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rosemariiaa · 1 month ago

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𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 02, 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

“Some things are better left unsaid.”

˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing: Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── synopsis: the feeling of regret

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie’s note: hi :), sooo don’t yell at me y’all know i’m sensitive, but yes apologies this was supposed to come out wayyy sooner but i’ve had a lot going on with my personal life i barely had time to write but luckily i finished this up! ik almost people were confused on the cliffhanger so i hope i explained it well in this chapter :) happy reading lovelies 💌

˖˙ ᰋ ── themes: hurt/comfort, guilt, angst

enjoy!!!

march 21, 2014

The cursor blinked at me, expectant. Judging.

Her name sat on the tip of my tongue. Not the one she introduced herself with, not the nickname she had tossed at me under the swing set like it was armor. Her real name. The one she’d trusted me with just days before everything shattered.

I hovered over the keyboard. How many times had I visited this account in the past two months? More than I could count. The anonymity she clung to should have been enough to keep me from connecting the dots. But the username—UnicornPuppy35—was a clue I couldn’t ignore, not after that rainy night, not after the slippers and the shirt that practically screamed it.

Azzi.

The realization should have made me stop, made me put down my phone and walk away. She didn’t know it was me. She didn’t know I was the one lurking, soaking up every word she wrote, piecing together her sadness, her anger, her loneliness. And she couldn’t find out—not like this.

If she did… God, if she ever found out, I wasn’t sure what would happen. She’d hate me more than she already did, and I couldn’t stand to see that look on her face again.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my face. The memory of her tears still burned, sharp as glass.

flashback ⤑ february 13, 2013

The rain came down hard that night, the kind of downpour that soaked through your skin and left you raw.

I didn’t know why I left the house. Maybe it was the yelling, or maybe it was the silence that followed. Either way, I ended up at the park. The swings creaked under the weight of the wind, and the only other person there was huddled on one, head bowed as rain dripped from her curls and onto her bright pink unicorn shirt.

I almost walked away. She looked like she wanted to be alone, and honestly, so did I. But something stopped me—a tilt of her head, maybe, or the way her shoulders shuddered even as she sat still.

“Hey,” I said, stepping closer. The ground squelched under my shoes.

She looked up, startled. Her eyes, wide and brown, met my baby blues for half a second before darting away. “What do you want?”

I hesitated, shrugging. “Nothing. Just… didn’t think anyone else would be out here.”

Her laugh was bitter, like she didn’t believe me. She didn’t say anything else, just looked back down at her feet, the tips of her sneakers brushing the muddy ground.

I should’ve walked away. Instead, I sat on the swing next to her.

Over the next two weeks, those nights at the park became a ritual. When the lights in our houses went out, we met under the cover of darkness, sharing pieces of ourselves with kind of fully unraveling almost everything.

She told me about the girl at school—the one who dunked her head in the toilet and called her the f-slur. Her voice cracked when she said it, and my chest ached with something I didn’t quite understand.

“She’s just a bitch,” I said, reaching out without thinking. My hand landed on her shoulder, the fabric of her hoodie rough and wet under my palm. “You didn’t deserve that.”

She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t look at me either. “It’s not just her,” she muttered. “It’s… everyone.”

The night Azzi told me about the girl at school, something in her broke. Her voice cracked, a sharp edge slicing through the usual monotone she used when talking about her day.

“I didn’t even do anything,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest. Her breath came out in shivers, her curls dripping rainwater down her back. “She just—she said I was looking at her skirt, and the next thing I know, I’m—”

Her voice wavered, and she stopped. She didn’t have to finish. I could picture it: the cold porcelain, the laughter, the humiliation.

“She has to be insecure or something,” I said quickly, fumbling for the right words. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Azzi. She’s just taking her misery out on you.”

Azzi didn’t look convinced. Her lip trembled, and she pressed her face into her knees, hiding the tears I knew were falling.

I sat there, helpless. I wasn’t good at this—comforting people, saying the right thing. But I didn’t want her to feel alone.

“You wanna egg her house?” I joked, my voice soft. “Or, I don’t know, slash her parents tires?”

She huffed a wet laugh, the sound muffled by her hoodie. “She’d probably call the cops.”

“She’s a snitch, too?” I gasped dramatically, hoping to coax another laugh out of her. “That’s it. We’re definitely egging her house.”

Azzi peeked up at me, her eyes red and puffy but lighter somehow. “You’re stupid,” she said, but there was a ghost of a smile on her face.

——-

A few nights later, that’s when things fell apart.

I was at the park first, waiting for Azzi, when a group of girls from my neighborhood showed up. I didn’t know them well, but they were loud and funny in that kind of way that made you want to laugh along just to fit in.

We were sitting on the picnic table, their chatter filling the silence, when one of them asked, “Hey, Paige, why do you always hang out with that girl?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Who?”

“You know, that Azzi girl,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Nobody hangs out with her.”

My stomach twisted. “Why not?”

The girl snorted. “Her mom’s, like, weird. Always with a new boyfriend or whatever. It’s embarrassing. She’s just a weirdo and looks weird.”

My jaw tightened. Before I could respond, another girl chimed in, laughing. “And her hair! It’s like, doesn’t she know what a brush is?”

The table erupted in laughter, but I couldn’t bring myself to join in. I glanced at the path leading to the swings, my heart sinking.

“Paige,” a voice said behind me.

I froze.

Azzi stood there, her face pale and her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she shook her head, stepping back as if I’d physically struck her.

“Azzi, wait—” I started, scrambling off the table, but she was already turning away.

“Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “Just… don’t.”

I ran after her, catching her arm as she reached the edge of the park. “Azzi, I wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t what?” she snapped, whirling around. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her voice rising in anger. “Wasn’t laughing at me? Wasn’t sitting there while they trashed me?”

“I didn’t say anything!” I protested, my chest tight.

“That’s the problem!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “You just sat there, Paige. You didn’t even try to stop them, you let them say those things.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck in my throat.

“Forget it,” she muttered, yanking her arm free. She wiped at her face angrily, her curls sticking to her cheeks. “I should’ve known better.”

“Azzi, come on,” I pleaded, my voice softer now. “It’s not like that—”

“What’s it like, then?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear. I just don’t understand after all those nights I cried to you P.. how could you?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. By the time I found the words, she was already gone.

present day 2014

It’s been weeks since Azzi and I started talking online, just the two of us, anonymously. We’ve gotten comfortable—well, as comfortable as we can with the fake names and hidden identities. I try not to think about the lies I’m keeping from her, but I know deep down it’s the only way I can stay connected to her. She has to trust me, or she’ll leave. And I can’t handle that. Not again.

It’s the last day of school, and I’m practically buzzing with excitement as I head to the bus. I can’t wait to get home, and send Azzi a message—anything really. I don’t care if it’s about her puppy or the weather or something ridiculous. I just want to talk to her.

I find a seat on the bus and pull out my phone. As the bus rumbles on, I open up Blogspot. I scroll through the messages Azzi and I exchanged earlier, just before school started. I can’t help but laugh at the part where she told me her dog, Stewie, peed in her shoe. That image—her tiny, brown wiener dog peeing in her brand new sneakers—was so perfectly her. Her humor, her frustration, her charm.

I giggle, but then it hits me. The guilt. It crashes over me, sudden and sharp, like a wave I didn’t see coming. My thumb freezes over the screen, hovering over the keyboard. I look at the conversation, at the funny banter we shared this morning, and my chest tightens. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve her.

If she knew who I really was, if she knew the truth about why I was pretending to be someone else… she would never look at me the same way again. She’d leave me. She would never trust me again.

I feel the tightness in my chest grow, and I look out the window, trying to distract myself. But it’s no use. The guilt is like a weight on my shoulders, pressing down harder the longer I sit with it. Every word I’ve typed to Azzi, every moment I’ve shared with her—it’s all a lie. And I hate myself for it.

But I can’t stop. I can’t let her go again. It pained me the first time…it won’t happen again.

I stare at the phone in my hand, biting my lip. What if she finds out? What if she figures it out before I can come clean?

What if? What if? What if?

The thought is too much. I set the phone down on my lap, staring out the window, hoping the weight in my chest will ease.

A few minutes later, my phone vibrates in my lap. A new message.

unicornpuppy35: p, i just got home and stewie’s tryna eat my shoelace again. i swear this dog’s scheming.

I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. My thumb hovers over the screen again. I want to reply, want to send something funny, something comforting, but all I can think about is how this isn’t real. None of it is real.

boogers_p: obviously. stewie’s prolly like, “shoelaces are phase one. world domination’s next.”

unicornpuppy35: no fr, this little dude really thinks he runs the place.

boogers_p: i mean… does he not? u literally pay rent in shoelaces and snacks.

unicornpuppy35: and socks. don’t forget the socks. he got one of mine this morning smh.

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh too loud as I typed back.

boogers_p: rip to the sock. gone but not forgotten.

The typing bubble popped up and disappeared a few times before finally settling on:

unicornpuppy35: ur so ridiculous, p. u know that?

boogers_p: i’ve heard rumors.

I paused, smirking at the screen. Then, a thought hit me, and her fingers flew over the keyboard.

boogers_p: ok, real question. what’s stewie short for? or did u just look at him and go, “yup, that’s a stewie”?

There was a pause before Azzi’s response came through.

unicornpuppy35: named him after breanna stewart.

I blinked at the screen, my smile softening. Of course she did.

boogers_p: oh damn, respect. stewie’s a legend fr but no surprise you chose her.

unicornpuppy35: p, language. and duhh, hence the name.

boogers_p: my bad my bad, but u really said, “lemme name my dog after greatness.” iconic move, puppy.

I knew the nickname would get to her. It always did. The reply came fast.

unicornpuppy35: stop calling me that!!!

boogers_p: nah. it fits too good. also, it’s cute. like u.

Shit. There was a long pause before I saw the typing bubble flicker again.

unicornpuppy35: u really know how to get on my nerves, huh?

boogers_p: talent, tbh.

Azzi’s response came slower this time:

unicornpuppy35: sometimes i wonder why i even talk to u.

Paige snorted, her thumbs moving fast.

boogers_p: cuz i’m funny. and charming. and u lowkey love me. just admit it.

The reply took a moment.

unicornpuppy35: …maybe stewie loves u. that’s as close as ur getting.

I barked out a laugh, the sound drawing a curious glance from the kid across the aisle.

boogers_p: i’ll take it. tell stewie i’m his #1 fan.

unicornpuppy35: he’ll probably steal another shoelace to celebrate.

boogers_p: a king. truly.

I stared at the screen for a second longer, my chest feeling warm and tight in a way I couldn’t even describe.

unicornpuppy35: u good, peanut? u seem kinda off lately.

My fingers hesitated over the keyboard, my mouth forming into a small smile at my nickname. Azzi always asked. I didn’t know how she managed to carry so much and still notice the little things about me. God.

boogers_p: yeah, i’m straight. just tired, you know?

unicornpuppy35: don’t let it get to u p. me and stewie got ur back.

Paige swallowed the lump in her throat, her reply coming slower this time.

boogers_p: thanks, puppy. u and stewie the real mvps fr.

Pup- I mean Azzi’s reply was just a string of eye-roll emojis, but I could picture the grin on her face. I wish I could just see it for myself.

boogers_p: love u too.

So much.

I send the message, knowing I can’t keep lying forever. But for now, I’ll hold on.

——-

Paige walked into her room, shutting the door with a quiet click, as if any louder might let her thoughts escape into the world. Tossing her bag into the corner, she kicked off her shoes and peeled off her clothes, leaving a trail toward the bathroom. The hot water scalded her pale skin, but she barely noticed, the familiar ache in her chest louder than the pounding spray.

When she came out, dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her damp hair sticking to her neck, she flopped onto her bed. She should sleep. She needed sleep. But instead, her hand reached for the scrapbook tucked under her nightstand.

Opening it, her heart clenched as she stared at the first photo—Azzi on the swing set, caught mid-laugh, her curls bouncing wildly as she leaned over, her dimple deepening with every giggle. Paige could still hear the sound of it, bright and free, almost as if Azzi were right there in the room with her.

The second photo wasn’t much better. Her and Azzi at the diner for her 15th birthday, Azzi’s arm slung around hers like it belonged there. Paige could almost feel the ghost of Azzi’s touch, the warmth of her hand on her arm, the way Azzi’s voice would soften when she scolded her for cussing too much.

She flipped the page closed before she started crying again. It didn’t help.

Her fingers brush over the closed scrapbook, tracing its edges. She knows it’s pathetic to feel this way, to let herself get so tangled up in someone who probably doesn’t even think about her anymore. It’s dumb, she knows that. But it doesn’t change the way her heart clenches at the thought of Azzi laughing somewhere else, with someone else, as if Paige never mattered.

Because the truth is, she’s never felt this way about anyone before. Not like this. Not about their friendship, or whatever it used to be. Friendship doesn’t even seem like the right word anymore. It feels too small, too simple for something that made her feel whole in a way nothing else ever has.

Will you miss me, Azzi? Paige swallows hard, her jaw tightening as tears blur her vision again. Will you miss what we had? Because I do. I miss you so much it hurts. It fucking hurts.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes closing as the words spilled from her heart. God I think I’d miss you even if we never met.

Paige dragged a hand over her face, trying to will the tears back, but they came anyway, hot and relentless. She clutched the scrapbook tighter to her chest. I miss you. Every day. Every second of every day. I miss you so much it’s pathetic.

She let out a shaky laugh that turned into a sob halfway through. “It’s so dumb,” she muttered, shaking her head. But no matter how many times she said it, it didn’t make it any less true. It’s the realest thing she’s ever felt.

Because no one had ever made her feel like Azzi did. Not before, not since. She wasn’t sure anyone ever would.

She wipes at her face, but the tears won’t stop. Because no matter how much she misses Azzi, Paige knows it’s her fault she’s gone. She clings to the scrapbook, the pictures inside the only pieces of Azzi she has left. And as much as it hurts, she knows she deserves this. Every ache, every tear, every lonely second.

Because she let her go. And that’s something she can never take back.

——-

Azzi sat quietly in the backseat, her hands clammy as she rubbed them over her shorts, trying to calm the nerves that had been with her all morning. Her brothers had hyped her up about making the team, calling her the coach’s “princess,” but it didn’t help. She was still terrified. What if she didn’t make it? What if she wasn’t good enough?

She whispered to Stewie, who was in her lap, his small body a source of comfort. “What if I don’t make the team, huh? I know it’s stupid, but it keeps running through my mind… what if I mess up?”

Her mom glanced back at her from the front seat, a soft smile on her face. “You’ll do fine, Azzi. You always do.”

But Azzi couldn’t shake the unease, the thoughts spinning in her head as the car pulled into the gym parking lot. Her stomach twisted into knots, and her heart raced in anticipation. They arrived early, her mom wanting to meet the coaches first, so Azzi was the first one there.

She stepped out of the car, still trying to calm her breathing. As her mom led her inside, Azzi forced herself to smile and greet the coaches, though her mind was a hundred miles away. She excused herself once the introductions were made, eager to find the locker room and settle in before tryouts started.

The gym was empty when she walked in, the silence amplifying her every step. She meandered down the hall, her fingers grazing the walls as she took in the pictures of past players, their smiles frozen in time. She felt her nerves rise again, the pressure of what was to come weighing on her.

But as she rounded a corner, her body collided with something—or rather, someone.

“Sorry!” Azzi blurted, quickly stepping back. But when she looked up, her breath caught. There, standing in front of her, was Paige. She froze, heart pounding in her chest. Her mind screamed for her to move, to say something, anything, but her body just wouldn’t cooperate.

Paige stood there too, her mouth slightly open in disbelief, her eyes wide. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Then, almost as if the world had shifted, Paige finally spoke her name.

“Azzi?” she whispered.

Azzi’s stomach churned, but she couldn’t stop staring at her. How? How could she be here? How had she found her, of all places? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not here, not now. Not ever.

But Paige was looking at her like she hadn’t missed a beat, like the time apart hadn’t meant anything. Azzi could see the recognition in her eyes, the same as she felt in her chest.

It was instant. Her face was older now, sharper, but it was still her. Those blue eyes. The way she stood. Even the slight tilt of her head when she was unsure of herself. Azzi hadn’t expected it to hit her this hard.

A year ago, she swore she’d move on. Swore that she’d forget what Paige meant to her. But now, standing here, all she felt was the sharp twist of memory and the burn of anger.

How could she not recognize her? Paige had been the first person to make her feel seen, to make her feel like she mattered. But she had also been the first person to hurt her more than anyone else had. Azzi couldn’t forget that. Not the way she laughed with her, not the way she’d come after her with apologies she could never quite believe.

Azzi had convinced herself she was past it. Past Paige. But now, here she was, staring at her as if nothing had changed. It was too much, too fast. Does she really think I’ve forgotten?

Paige stepped forward, her movements tentative, unsure. Azzi almost wanted to take a step back, to run, but she couldn’t move. She stood there, feeling the weight of everything that had happened between them pressing in on her.

“Azzi,” Paige said softly, her voice almost hesitant.

Azzi blinked, her heart racing. She forced herself to act like she didn’t know her, even though everything inside her screamed that she did. “Sorry,” Azzi said, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest. “Do I know you?”

——-

rosie’s note: well..yeah!

taglist ˏˋ°��*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @imaginespazzi @pazzilover101 @makethemhoesmad @pboogerswbb @kmoneymartini @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @melpthatsme @ashortyluvsports

#asks ❣︎#pazzi #halfway strangers fic #fic talk #paige x azzi #rosie’s works 🎧⋆｡ °⋆

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cloudcountry · 5 months ago

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1ST PRIZE WINNER, POP-SPARKLE! (@pop-sparkle)

— IDIA GHOSTS YOU ON YOUR FIRST DATE...OR DOES HE? (2013 words)

You try not to look too anxious as you chew on your bottom lip, eyes darting to each person as they walk past the cat cafe you are currently waiting in front of. Your first date with Idia Shroud had you pacing around your room hours before, picking out the perfect outfit and accessories that didn’t seem like too little or too much effort. You’d asked Grim a million times (much to his annoyance) if you looked okay, and had checked the mirror over and over to make sure nothing was stuck in your teeth and not a hair was out of place. You wanted to look perfect for him, you wanted to make him stumble over his words and feel that thrill of being so well put together it made his heart tremble.

You’d even tried to coordinate your outfit to Ignihyde’s aesthetic since you didn’t know Idia’s personal tastes yet. The plan was to ask him on the date what kind of clothes he liked, just so you could tailor some matching outfits for the two of you or make a cute Twisterest board of your aesthetics and how they’d play off of each other.

The plan was not to be waiting in front of the cat cafe for about thirty minutes now with no sign of your date, and all the giddy excitement you felt slowly evaporating into pure panic.

Had you done something wrong? You knew Idia was delicate socially but you tried not to treat him as such, knowing all too well how condescending that could be, but maybe you were too forward? Did you come off as desperate and he secretly didn’t want to come at all? Was he disgusted by you now? Did he just ghost you and intended to never talk to you again? Did Idia wish he never agreed in the first place? Did he forget, completely unbothered by your excitement, or got too wrapped up in his games to think of you?

You unlock your phone and scroll through you and Idia’s past conversations for any signs you may have missed that he wasn’t interested. He seemed enthusiastic enough, replying with longer looooools and kitty faces such as :3, but if anything that only made your current situation all the more confusing.

to: gloomurai ... 11:55am

-> hey idia! i’m at the cafe!! super excited to see you C:

to: gloomurai ... 12:10pm

-> hihi!! are you here yet? i can’t see you with all these people around lol

to: gloomurai ... 12:25am

-> ...idia? are you even here at all?

You read the last message over and over again, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over your eyelids. It was so jarring to suddenly be given the cold shoulder like this when he’d been so receptive before. You should just take the L, as Idia would say, and leave. It wasn’t like he was showing up anytime soon.

At this point, him showing up wasn’t even needed. You just wanted to go back to campus, ask him what the hell was going on, and maybe get some ice cream and cry over your amazing outfit if the conversation went south.

You do the walk of shame all the way up to the front gates of Night Raven, pushing the gates open with the strongest push you can muster (which comes off as very weak and half hearted.) For once, you look like the wet cat in your relationship, and at least that thought makes you chuckle when you feel like your world is falling apart.

You find your way to the hall of mirrors and go straight to Ignihyde dorm, summoning all of your courage as you step through the mirror. You don’t know where Idia is going to be, but knowing what you know of him now, there’s no way he’s anywhere but his dorm.

(You push down any thought that suggests he’s somewhere else just to get away from you—you won’t get anywhere thinking about things you don’t know to be true for sure yet. You know Idia is usually in his room, so that is where you’ll look first.)

When you make it to his room, it’s almost like you’re paralyzed with fear. You’ve never really been in a situation like this before—you have no idea if this is the right thing to do or not. Is this creepy? Are you stepping wildly out of line?

You almost chicken out, but then the door opens.

Ortho stands there, looking all too happy to see you.

You forgot he could read vital signs—he probably read your heart beat outside of Idia’s door and got concerned at its elevated rate.

“What are you standing outside for? Come on in!” he greets you cheerfully, like this whole fiasco didn’t just happen.

And, you suppose, was still happening.

You stumble dumbly into the room at his insistence, eyes locking with Idia’s all too soon. He looks ashamed, droopy flames flickering slowly in the darkness of his room. Seeing him in such a state proves to you that he didn’t forget—he looks so guilty, there’s no way he didn’t opt not to go of his own free will.

He chose to ghost you.

You bite your bottom lip, brow furrowing as you choke back the tears. It’s hard when you feel that telltale ball in the back of your throat that makes it just a little too hard to breathe, and you know if you start talking now you’re surely going to mess it all up and start sobbing in front of him. You clutch the fabric of your top and hope you don’t look as pathetic as you feel.

Things weren’t supposed to be this way.

“Why are you crying?” Ortho asks softly, cold metal hands touching your face gently.

He starts listing off a bunch of vital signs that indicate that you’re upset, and Idia makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a wounded puppy.

Ortho looks between the two of you and makes the executive decision to drag his brother out of his bed, forcing him to stumble his way over you with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen.

“Make sure you have a productive conversation!” Ortho cheers, exiting the room quicker than you could blink.

The door whirs shut behind him. Idia is shrinking in on himself more than usual, and you’re certain that if you don’t get your shit together first he’ll start breaking down.

“So Idia,” you cringe at how your voice breaks but keep going, “What happened?”

Silence.

“With the date, I mean.” you prompt.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles, and while it sounds halfhearted your ears have been trained to pick up on the inflections in his voice that indicate otherwise.

He’s crushed.

“That doesn't answer my question...why didn't you show? Did something happen?” you ask, keeping your tone as level and gentle as you possibly can even though you feel like crying.

“Well, uh, nothing really.” he mumbles, and he brings his hand up to grasp at his arm like he always does when he's nervous, “It's just that...the hit boxes on this quest were a little too finicky and I didn't know if I'd even be able to pull an SSR character like you. So, uh, I panicked and ditched the whole quest. A total botched mission. And I understand if you hate me now for being the worst player two ever, you deserve someone who would beat the final boss with you, not lose on the first one.”

So in short...Idia was so nervous he didn't show up?

You breathe a sigh of relief, all of your overthinking vanishing into thin air. He looks confused when you smile at him, clearly expecting an angry outburst or a disgusted snarl but instead you press a hand to your chest and thank him profusely.

“Um...lol, why are you thanking me?” he mutters, brow furrowing as he shifts his gaze to the ground, “I, like, totally ruined everything. You were willing to give me your time and I threw it away like level one materials you get when you've beat the game. I'm totally unworthy. My gacha luck should be at zero rn tbh.”

“Idia, are you kidding me? I thought my luck was at zero! I'm so glad I hit pity.” you huff, hurriedly wiping the tears from your eyes, “Listen, when I showed up and didn't see you there, I didn't feel joy or relief or anything close. I felt scared and anxious because I was worried I upset you. I didn't want you to think I was too desperate or intense. I just wanted to have fun with you. I wanted to spend some time with the guy I like more than anyone else.”

Idia shuffles his feet, the tips of his hair turning pink. You can feel your face heating up too, but you do nothing to hide your wobbly, flustered smile or the way he makes you feel.

He needs to see it if this conversation is going to go anywhere productive.

“Sorry, um, this is just...so new to me. I mean, you're excited to do things with me? You...you dressed up for me?” he swallows thickly, eyes catching on your outfit before flicking back up to your face.

You feel your stomach jolt at his gaze — it's a warm feeling, definitely not unwelcome. You'd almost forgotten how much effort you put into your outfit this morning. You're so glad he likes it. Just the approval alone makes the whole experience worth it.

“Get used to it.” you beam, “I want to do lots of things with you.”

He blushes, pink hair fanning out behind him like an angel’s wings. You're certainly looking at him like he is one, if the way he pulls his hood over his head and tries to cover as much of his face as possible is any indication.

You wish he wouldn’t, you love looking at his face, but you figure that’s something you can get him more comfortable with another day.

“I would also really like a second date. If Idia Shroud would be up for it, of course.” you say, a little softer, a little gentler, just enough to coax him from his hoodie.

“Um. I think it'd still be our first date. I don't want that to count.” he exhales sharply, turning away from you again.

Even after your talk, he's still embarrassed. He's still the same old Idia.

“Okay. Whatever you want, Idia.” you hum, happy that this situation wasn't at all what you thought it was and even happier that he suggested something so cute.

Oh, how did no one see his charm as deeply as you did? Idia was such a kind, warm soul—as warm as the flames cascading down his head, flickering pink as he stares at you.

He's still nervous, but so are you, the both of you shuffling your feet and exchanging shy glances. You think to suggest starting off your first date by gaming, a suggestion that wins you ten love points on his intimacy meter as he beams and scrambles to pick one out.

He asks you a million questions about what style of games you prefer and if a certain variable matters to you in your gaming experience. He digs deep in his collection, tossing away any single player games he finds and it makes your soul sing because wow, he wants to play with you. It’s the obvious choice—after all, this is a date now, but it still tastes sweet on your tongue as you whisper his name.

“I’ll like any game you pick out.” you offer.

“It can’t be any game for you. It has to be perfect.” he huffs, not even turning back to look at you.

Dedicated. Passionate. Hardheaded and laser focused. This is the Idia you fell in love with.

As you sit down next to him and riffle through his collection with him, you can’t help but feel so, so happy that you did.

#auburn's summer raffle <3 #auburn's fics <3 #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #idia shroud #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #twisted wonderland fluff #gn reader

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drvscarlett · 6 months ago

Text

About You Pt 11

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series

A/N: well, well, well.... anyone wants a drink? let me know your thoughts (and prayers) for this one

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444 @mploopssek @snakelore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @lordpercevalcharles

2013, Shanghai International Circuit

Everyone is staring at Sebastian.

It wasn't uncommon for Sebastian to be stared upon when he enters the track. He was the reigning champion so he has been used being the center of attention. He has been looked at by people before but this time it feels very different. A hint of judgement and anger was communicated by their gazes so if looks could kill then he would be seven feet under the ground now.

"It has been two weeks, why are people not getting over it"Sebastian grumbles.

Britta, who was walking alongside him, shakes her head. Sebastian seems to forget about the fighting words that he stated in an interview not so long ago.

"They felt like you are being arrogant with the whole I don't apologize for winning statement Seb"Britta reminded.

His bad, Sebastian admits.

Maybe its a mix of pride and ego that's why he callously stated those words. But Sebastian stands firm on that because he had a chance and he simply seized it. If he was born to concede then maybe he should look for other careers instead of being a Formula 1 driver.

"You have to be in a good mood today" Britta states "You have some interviews and conferences lined up"

"Who's on it?"

"You are partnered with Bianchi, Ricciardo, Bottas, and Alonso"

It was far from his usual pairings of his grid friends. Sebastian thinks Britta has a hand on this in order to lessen the fanfare. And besides, Alonso has his fair shares of controversy, surely he would understand

A slight scoff from a passerby brought him out of his thoughts. The stranger bumped him with no apologies or whatsoever as they only glared at him.

"Rude"

Sebastian could feel more muttering of the people as he gets closer to the media room. He puts up a brave face like he doesn't hear them but he will be lying to say if they didn't hurt. He felt truly wronged being portrayed as someone villainous when he is just doing his job.

The only thing that Sebastian is looking forward to is talking to Y/N.

With all the chaos, he has a sense of relief that Y/N understands. She was the first person who talked to her after everything that happened. She had understood the why and the whole situation. It brought him some sort of comfort that there is someone by his side.

Sebastian was craning his head all around the paddock to look for the girl, she must be here somewhere. He also tried looking for Jenson as they are often paired together but he had no luck with the McLaren driver as well.

And then he finds her busy with her laptop talking with Jenson. Sebastian made a beeline to the duo despite the protest of Britta.

"Y/N, I tried picking you up a while ago but then your hotel-"Sebastian explained.

"Seb"she was looking side by side as if afraid to be caught talking to him "We have to speak later"

"What's going on?"

"We have to go"Jenson excused.

There was a strained smile on both of their faces. They hurriedly exited the room which made Sebastian frown.

Did he say something wrong? Why are they acting weird?

"I heard some rumors about that"Britta piped in "They say that after the whole fiasco last time, McLaren is not allowing interactions between you, Mark, and Y/N"

That's the most bullshit that Sebastian heard. He could have handled the stares and the murmurings but this was his breaking point.

"This is so unfair. What does my fight with Mark have to do with them"

"Bad press, you know how Jenson is still recovering from his bad public opinion"Britta sighs.

But this is still unfair. The expression cannot be removed from the German driver's face. He felt like the anger that he has been trying to keep at bay is ready to burst out.

"Don't worry, this may be only temporary till things die down"Britta assures.

But those words fall on deaf ears. Sebastian has already made up his mind that if they truly want a villain then a villain they would get from this whole fiasco.

2013, Bahrain International Circuit

"Can we talk?"

This feels like a common occurrence between the two Webber siblings. Frankly, Y/N is a bit tired because she knows that this may lead to another argument again.

"I'm busy and I'm under strict orders not to talk to any of you"Y/N brushes off.

He knows that. Jenson had sent him a text that they are refrained from speaking to them publicly. This is why Mark waited until the end of the race where everyone is packing up and busy to talk to her.

"Please Y/N"Mark held on her wrist "I am just extremely worried about you"

There was a concern evident on his eyes. For Y/N, she truly missed that from her brother. How long have she longed for the hate and the irritation to disappear from his eyes. She felt like she could cry on the spot.

"I'm okay Mark"she assures.

"Are you really? Is McLaren keeping the media away? Aren't you getting bombarded? Are they treating you okay?"Mark's rapid question started.

He had been stupid for so long to allow his track rivalry to ruin his relationship with his sister. He made up his mind when he saw how she have been crowded by reporters that he would try to be better. He would try his best to earn her forgiveness and to stay by her side no matter what.

"I'm okay, you don't have to worry"she replies.

But it has been a difficult few weeks for Y/N. She felt very alone and very restricted with her moves around during the weekend. She felt watched by McLaren team for a single wrong move. She was afraid to be kicked out and be left out of the only world she knew.

"I know we have our differences but you have me by your side"Mark pulled her in a hug.

And this is where the waterworks started. It has been a long while since the siblings embraced each other. With all the drama and the stress that they shared the past few years, this brings a different kind of comfort.

"I'm really sorry when I said awful things to you Mark"

"No apologies, you were just hurt"Mark soothes "I should be the one apologizing for pushing you away and being a shit brother"

They were away from the eyes of the public but little did they know they have been spotted by someone else. Sebastian could only turn away with a hurt feeling thinking that Y/N choose a side in this rivalry and it was not by his side.

The necklace that hangs on his neck feels heavy. He quickly unclasped it and he holds it tightly in his hands. It was a reminder of Y/N and her support, now it seems to be mocking him.

Sebastian quickly left without making his presence known. The necklace tossed somewhere that he can't quite remember.

2013, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

"I think Seb is mad at me" Y/N was worried.

It was a common practice that even if they are not allowed to see each other physically, they would message each other. However, ever since Bahrain, Sebastian was acting off and cold. It was seriously stressing Y/N out.

"Look at you all troubled"Jenson has the audacity to giggle at her misery "And you say you don't love him"

"Jenson, this is serious"

"You are soooooooo down bad"he teased.

"Why did I ever think that I'll get a decent advice from you"Y/N huffs.

She could have asked Nico or Lewis for help. Or even Michael and Corinna but here she was sitting in Jenson's hotel room and wondering for advices. She classifies this as a desperate situation which is why she is asking Jenson's opinion.

"Hey hey"Jenson sits closer "I'm your lad for this one, you can trust me to give you the other perspective so you can figure out what's wrong"

"So tell me what's wrong"

"Well usually when guys are acting like that then maybe they simply want your affection or your attention to dote on them."Jenson explains.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

"Doesn't he get a lot of attention from the media and everything?"

It caused Jenson to laugh. He had to remind himself to take it easy on Y/N because Sebastian is about to be the first relationship that the girl is entering in.

"That's a different kind of attention"Jenson states "Maybe Sebastian was just feeling very alone with everyone being against him and maybe he just needs a little extra TLC from you"

"I have always tried to make him feel like I support him"Y/N notes.

"Yeah but maybe you can do something like making him letters or maybe a cheer up basket. I'm pretty sure you could get some people to deliver them to him, it will really cheer him up"Jenson listed out.

Y/N reopens her phone and saw the text messages that she has sent. She tried cheering him up because he lost a podium for the first time this season. He hasn't replied yet or even looked at it.

"Hey cheer up, Sebastian is too in love with you to lose feelings for you"Jenson reminds "He had been in love with you for ages and it took him so long to tell you so I'm pretty sure that he won't simply leave you there"

"You really think so?"

"Oh I know so, you have no idea how Sebastian nearly pushed me off track because I was close to you"

"No, he did not!"

And in another part of town, the man of the hour is in a very crowded area. The flashing lights, the smell of smoke, and overflowing alcohol was not his typical scene. However, Sebastian felt like he needed this break from everything that has been happening since Malaysia.

"Another round of shots for the world champion"someone pushed an array of tequila in front of him.

He gave them a smile as he chugs them all down.

Now he knows why some drivers opt to have drink after a miserable weekend. It makes the pain less and his mind is free from any of those thoughts that he could have done better.

"Sebastian?"a voice called out "Oh my god, I can't believe its you"

His drunken state has clouded his vision. He only made sense that the voice was a female and it was awfully familiar to him.

"Youu can come zit wid me" words were already slurred.

"Sebastian, I'm really happy to see you! I have been looking for you this weekend but you seem occupied"

"Y/N?"Sebastian could only think of one person that would have looked at him this weekend.

"No, I'm not Y/N. I'm-"

Maybe its the club's loud music but Sebastian didn't hear it. He proceeded to get closer to her until he envelopes her in a hug. He felt at peace suddenly being with someone familiar in a place full of strangers.

"Y/N, I missed you so much"Sebastian murmurs.

It was the very first mistake that he has made that night. The second one was bringing the woman back to his hotel and to his bed.

#sebastian vettel x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #about you series #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel angst

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girliism · 27 days ago

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LAST CHRISTMAS.

pairing: tashi duncan x reader

summary: in which tashi goes back home for christmas.

note: childhood friends that fell out to lovers, it’s 2013, use of y/n, tashi sexuality confrontation, ugly sweater party, me yearning to experience my childhood christmas again is manifested in light shows and tree mazes, semi proof read but only the beginning, word count idk i wrote this on tumblr but it’s kinda long (sorry), divider by @ issysh3ll

it’s cold. that’s the first thing tashi thinks when she steps out of her car and onto the snowy driveway of her childhood home. she hasn’t spent a christmas here since she left for college, but all the decorations are the same. save for the mini tree that her younger self would personally decorate. that was missing.

—

“tashi!” her mother greeted her at the front door. “we’re so happy to have you back this year.” it’s warm now, with the heat coming from inside the house and her mothers arms wrapped around her. she felt at home.

“we’re so glad you decided to come.”

“you’ve been gone so long.”

“how was the drive?”

“oh, tash we missed you last year.”

her family spoke all at once to her as her mother placed another plate of food in front of her. “you must be hungry from the drive.” she had said.

tashi answered their questions with a smile, just glad none of them had asked about art yet.

“so, where’s my future son in law? will he be joining us later?” she felt the eyes of her mom, dad, and little brothers staring her down. tashi harshly swallowed the food in her mouth before placing her fork down. she knew what they were expecting to hear, and it was not…

“we decided to call off the engagement.”

no one said anything, they just looked at her, processing what she had said. “good, i always knew he was a douche.” her little brother said, breaking the silence. “nico!” her mom let out a groan, smacking him on the head. she watched her scold him for the comment he made. he sent her a wink and tashi gave him a nod, silently thanking him for taking the focus off her and the bomb she just dropped.

—

tashi tucked herself into her old bed. her room hadn’t changed a bit, the same poster still littered her walls, fairy lights she put up at thirteen still working to make her room feel a little less dark.

her dad and brothers were gone by the time she woke up, only her mother sat in the kitchen writing what she assumed was a christmas dinner menu.

“morning.”

“good morning honey, how was your sleep.” tashi made her way to the coffee maker.

“good.”

her mom watched her move about the kitchen. filling up her cup with coffee, opening the cabinet to grab a bowl and some cereal then to the fridge for some milk. after assembling her breakfast tashi could still feel her mothers eyes on her. tashi slowly brought her graze from her bowl to her mom.

they had a silent staring match. tashi could tell her mom was holding back from asking her about what she said last night.

tashi rolled her eyes. “ok, go on, ask.” tashi’s mom shook her head turning her attention back to her menu pretending not to know what she was talking about. “i don’t know what you’re referring too.” another eye roll. “mom.” her mom let out a sigh taking off her glasses. “ok, fine. what happened? you two were perfectly in love the last time i saw you, and now you’re no longer together?”

she understood her mother’s confusion. on paper her and art were perfectly in love but behind closed doors tashi felt like she was trying to keep up with art’s affection for her. it also didn’t help that she made an unforgivable mistake in atlanta that still eats her up inside two years later.

“the engagement itself was already kinda rushed and after awhile it stopped feeling….right. i guess.” in the beginning tashi was happy to be engaged but then the more she thought about it the more out of control she felt, like she was suffocating. the title of future mrs. art donaldson reaching out and choking her.

tashi shrugged playing with the now soggy cereal in her bowl. “it was a clean break up. art was upset, i mean who wouldn’t be. but he uh… wants me to keep coaching him so i guess he doesn’t completely hate me.” she let out a sighed laugh. “oh, tash.” her mom placed her hand on top of tashi’s fidgeting one. “the two of you are so young anyway. and hey, if it ever starts feeling right again there’s still time.” tashi gave her mom a sad forced smile.

the air around them had turned all depressing and sad until her mom cleared her throat. “on a happier note. dad put an order out for a mini tree that’s waiting to be picked up. usually we’d go get and decorate it ourselves, but you’re here now and we thought maybe you could revive this old tradition?” her mom poked lightly at her cheeks with a small smile.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

—

tashi left her mom to go shopping while she made her way to tree shop across the street.

the smell of pine from the array of christmas trees took her back to when she was younger. running through the maze of giant trees with her brothers while her parents bought the tree.

“tashi?”

a voice calls her name. a voice she hasn’t heard in over seven years.

tashi turned around to be faced with you.

you had been coming back from helping a family load a tree into their car where you saw a tall figure standing near the entrance. you were going to pass her off as just another costumer but the way she was standing always with perfect posture felt too familiar.

“tashi, wow. i thought that was you. what are you doing back home?”

“y/n, hey.” after all these years your name felt for so foreign on her tongue. “i’m just back for the holidays.” tashi hadn’t prepared for this interaction. which she probably should have since this is your families christmas tree farm she’s shopping at.

you smile at her. you had stopped expecting tashi to come back after the first two years you spent knocking on the duncan’s door, not so discreetly asking if tashi was home. but she was here now and you had really missed her, even after everything.

tashi cleared her throat. “so, your dad still making you work.” you huffed a little laugh. “yeah, expect now he actually has to pay me.” having a family business that thrived during christmas ment spending your winter break freezing your ass off in a little christmas tree outfit, or twirling a sign, to now helping sell actual trees.

“it really isn’t that bad-”

“tashi duncan is that you?” a loud voice cut you off, turning your focus from each other and onto the person it belonged too. your dad.

“yes, sir it’s me.” tashi made her way towards him. “how have you been?” your dad immediately pulled her in for a hug, catching her off guard. “how have i been? no, how have you been? gosh it’s been years. you know, y/n complains constantly about how we had lost you to the superficial california life.” he let out a full belly laugh. tashi’s eyes flicked towards where you were standing, cheeks showcasing a slightly blush that’s could either be from the cold or embarrassment.

your dad turned to look at you. “y/n, why don’t you go and get tashi her tree while we catch up.” the man gave you no room to argue back, with an eye roll you stomped your way through the snow.

when you come back, your dad and tashi were laughing like a pair of old friends. topbled over clutching their stomach, you could hear their mixed laughter from the few feet away that you were.

“i got the tree.”

you and tashi carried the tree across the street to her car yourselves. her at one end you at the other. you could see her breath in the the cold air whenever she huffed.

the back door to her car is slammed shut after the tree is mounted onto the top of her roof.

“well, it was really nice seeing you again tashi.” the smile you gave her was tight lipped. “don’t be a stranger.”

tashi watched you walk away and it was giving her a sick sense of deja vu.

“y/n.”

you stopped and turned around.

“did you wanna help me decorate this tomorrow?”

it was a childish ask, helping decorate a tree but tashi was desperate. desperate to keep talking to you, desperate to try and mend the one good thing she once had.

“i don’t have anything better to do.”

numbers were exchanged and goodbyes were said. you made your way back across the street leaving tashi at her car.

“hey, was that y/n?” tashi’s mom came back with groceries in her hand. her voice snapping tashi out of her head. “huh? oh, yeah it was.” her mom opened the car door, dropping the bags inside. “hm, she was always a nice girl.”

—

you sat in your car outside tashi house, your thumbs anxiously drumming on the steering wheel. you eyed your watch a couple times until the hands read 12:00 before stepping out into the cold.

even in the day time the duncan’s lavishly decorated house looked amazing. candy cane sticks stuck out of the ground lining the driveway all the way up to the porch.

three knocks were delivered onto the door. you waited, staring down at the brown mat when the door opened.

“give me just one minute i’ll be right out.” tashi told you, disappearing back into her house.

you’ve done this a million times in your youth. waiting outside on the porch swing for tashi so the two of you can go play. old habits must die hard, because here you were falling into easy motion of swaying back and forth. the wood creaking every so often while you waited.

tashi finally stepped out in a white north face coat with matching gloves. she was carrying a big box full of christmas tree decorations, a wide smile on her face.

you silently wrapped the tree with light while tashi kneeled over the box rifling through the balls of ornaments, picking whatever caught her eye.

you cleared your throat. “so, what’s life like for you nowadays.”

tashi hummed, thinking back on her day to day. she’d wake up unbelievable early, train with art, take a break to answer emails and check schedules, another training session with art, have dinner together, then do it all over again tomorrow.

“to be honest, really fucking boring.” you both laughed.

“what, not having fun planing your wedding?” you cringed at how your words came out a lot snarky then intended.

tashi sighed, standing up and walked over to you with four ornaments in her hand. she passed two to you. “that’s actually not happening anymore.” she spoke softly, dropping one of the shiny plastic balls onto the tree.

“oh.” you bit at your lip and mumbled. “sorry.” tashi just shrugged.

“at least now you don’t have to send me a pity invite.” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. which seemed to work because tashi shot you the look she always gave when you would distract her. that unimpressed, slightly amused look that had you biting back a smile.

“shut up. you would have gotten a real invite.”

you gasped overly dramatic placing a hand over your heart. “are you saying i was really on the guest list?”

“of course you were.” tashi scoffed. “you’re supposed to my maid honor. remember.” she nudged your shoulder.

like most girls, you and tashi spent a lot of time planning your weddings. tashi’s wedding would be first then yours the day after because having a wedding on the same day was cliche in tashi’s eyes. though you wanted the wedding to take place on the same day for a totally different reason.

“i also remember you wanting a pink wedding dress. does that still stand?” tashi let out a loud laugh, shaking her head. “god no!”

the rest of the decorating went on like that. light laughs and joking until if was time to put on the star.

you passed the star off to tashi but she pushed back into your hands. “you put it on.” she insisted. you shook your head. “it’s your tree, you should but the star on.” tashi sigh obnoxiously, putting her hands on your shoulder. “exactly, it’s my tree meaning my rules and i want you to put it on.”

she was looking you right in the eyes and it was making your beat a little faster than normal. never being able to deny tashi, you place the star right on the head of the tree. “pretty.” tashi muttered, looking at the newly decorated tree while you looked at her. “yeah, pretty.”

tashi walked you to your car. “so, are you coming tomorrow?” tomorrow. the duncan’s annual christmas eve ugly sweater party. “yeah, i’ll be the one in the ugly sweater.” tashi laughed again and this was probably the most she’s laughed in the past year. “i’ll keep a look out.” you nodded and got in your car.

—

“do you think i should have brought more wine?”

“mom.”

“honey, one bottle is more than enough.”

“i should’ve brought the rosé”

you rolled your eyes as you mom argues with herself over which alcoholic beverage she should have brought.

the front door to the duncan house opened. tashi parents greeted yours then pointed you in the direction of the kitchen where tashi was.

inside the house was warm from the fireplace burning and the amount of bodies in it. christmas music played throughout the home and you followed the smell of gingerbread to find tashi hunched over a freshly baked try.

“nice sweater.” you said loudly over all the music and talking.

tashi playfully rolled her eyes at you. she knew her sweater her wasn’t nice it was incredibly cheesy, santa playing tennis. typical. “not as nice as yours.” she pointed out, handing you a glass of eggnog.

“doesn’t get as nice as santa on a stripper pole, does it.” you took a sip of the obviously spiked drink. tashi shook her head smiling and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

the party went on as it does every year. very intense games of charades are played, the team with you and tashi winning multiple times. the adults getting way to hyped on the spiked eggnog causing a very unserious but very heated discussion on what christmas movie is truly the best.

“you wanna get out of here.” you jumped at the sound of tashi’s voice echoing through your ears. you look up at where she was standing above you nodding her head to the back door she started walking towards.

you slowly slipped out your chair, grabbing your shoes from the front door and making your way to the kitchen, slipping out the doors to find tashi waiting for you.

snow covered the entire ground and in the distance sat the treehouse tashi’s dad built her years ago. it was still standing, looking in perfectly good shape. you eyed the treehouse then tashi, nudging her shoulder.

“last one there is a rotten egg.” you stated. tashi gave you a competitive look wasting no time bursting out in a sprint to the treehouse. you immediately chased after her, the cold wind blowing against your face. you won by a landslide, climbing up the ladder and into the house.

“wow.” you muttered to yourself. not a single thing had changed. the same bean bags and drawings filled the tiny space. tashi finally pulled herself up with a slight struggle. she rested her back against one of the walls, her head thrown back and eyes closed as she tried to steady her breath.

you placed yourself next to her watching as her hands massage over her knee. her knee. you knew what happened, everyone knew what had happened.

“does it hurt?” you spoke softly. “sometimes. only if i push myself to far.” you chewed on your bottom lip, a nervous habit you had yet to kick. “i wanted to call you know… when it happened.” tashi scoffed. “yeah, well you didn’t.” you flinched, her words were harsh.

“i know, and i’m sorry for not being there for you. i just—we hadn’t talked since that day.” you sighed, eyes locking with tashi’s brown ones. “i just figured i was the last person you wanted to see.” tashi moved her hand from her knee and slotted your hands together, fingers interlocking. her face was so close to your, noses nearly touching, you could smell the peppermint candy cane she was eating earlier on her breath.

“i wanted you there. god, i wanted you there so badly. probably would have felt less alone.” you squeezed her hand. “i’m here now.”

tashi would probably—definitely hate herself for doing this later but right now it felt right to inch her face closer to yours. you slowly mirroring her movements. your lips so close to touching, eyes closed… then a loud knock rang though the treehouse before the latch in the floor opened causing you and tashi to rip away from each other.

a head of brown curls popped through. “tash, mom’s looking for you, time to say goodbye to guest.” her little brother looked over to you. “hey, y/n.”

“hi, nico.”

the two siblings left the treehouse but you stayed for a while until the cold got unbearable.

“it was such a lovely party, thank you again for having us.” your mother and tashi’s hugged while your dads made plans to get beers together soon. you zipped yourself into your coat, making you way over to tashi.

“bye, tash.” you whispered. she gave you a short wave and closed lip smile. and you and your parents were out the door.

—

it was christmas morning and tashi hadn’t got out of bed yet. all night and all this morning she replayed in her mind what happened, or rather almost happened in the treehouse. what if her brother never interrupted, would she really have kissed you? her train of thought was stopped when her phone pinged with a message from you.

[from: y/n]

good morning, merry christmas.

tashi closed her phone, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes. she couldn’t respond to you, not yet. not while her was swimming with things she thought she got over.

making her way down the stairs, she could hear laughter coming from the kitchen and elf playing in the background from the living room tv.

“there she is. thought we were gonna have to have breakfast without you.” her mother placed a hand on her cheek and passed her a plate. the both of them moving to join everyone else in the living room.

seating here watching her family open presents, laugh and crack jokes had tashi questioning herself. why had she taken so long to come home?

every year you town sets up a light display where you come drive through and see all the decorations. and every year you and tashi would have your parents drive through the past all the displays before meeting up in the middle where hot chocolate was for a dollar was served.

you didn’t even know if tashi was coming, but you still stood outside the hot chocolate stand with a tiny wrapped present in your hand. then a black suv that you knew belonged to the duncan family pulled up and exited the vehicle, tashi being the last.

she wearing that same north face coat and you made you way to her.

“hey, did you get my message?” tashi hummed. “i did, merry christmas.”

you nodded, taking a deep breath holding out the present you had in your hand for her to take. tashi’s eyes widened as she took the box from you. “oh, you didn’t have to get me anything-” you stopped her. “it’s fine, i technically didn’t get this for christmas. it was the supposed to be the gift i gave you after you won the us open juniors.”

tashi’s heart fell at that. us open juniors. the open she met art and patrick at. the open she practically forbade you from coming to.

—

“ok, so we’re all set. i’ve made the playlist to last us the whole plane ride.”

tashi slammed the truck of her parents car shut before walking over to you. “about that… um, do you mind if you miss this on?”

you stopped what you were doing. “why?”

tashi shrugged, playing with a lose thread on her shirt. “it’s just, i really need to focus and you being there would throw me off.” you rolled you eyes. “i’ve been to every single one of your games, tash. how is this one different?”

tashi really didn’t wanna fight right now she just need you to listen to her. “it just is, ok.”

you narrowed your eyes. “is this about what happened last night? is that why you’re being all weird?” tashi’s head immediately snapped up to look at you. “no!” yes. the kiss that happened the night before had really messed with tashi’s head, a lot more then she could handle. “last night was nothing, it doesn’t have to do with anything. you just distracted me and i can’t afford distractions.”

you scoffed, not having the energy to argue with her. “whatever, tashi. good luck at game.” you walked away from her.

—

that memory played like a movie in tashi’s mind as she looked down at the box in her hand.

“anyways, it’s probably pathetic that i kept it after all these years but i thought you should have it.” you didn’t notice the tears had started to well in tashi’s eyes until she looked up at you. “tash?”

“i’m sorry.” her voice cracked. “i’m sorry for shutting you out like that.” you shook you head with widen eyes. “it’s fine, it’s ok. i’ve gotten over it, really.” you tried to reassure her.

“but it’s not ok. i was mean to you, i basically cut you out of my life because i was scared. scared of what that kiss ment. scared of what would happen after.” she took a deep breath. “i was scared of myself and fucking terrified of my parents. and i took it out on you. you, the only person to this day that makes my stomach feel all weird and my insides warm. so many times i wanted to call you or reach out to you but i kinda thought you hated me-” tashi’s rambling was cut short by your lips on hers. your lips that were warm despite the freezing cold.

for that moment where yours and tashi’s lips moved as one everything felt right, like the last seven years had been leading up to this moment.

tashi broke the kiss to look you in the eye. “sorry for being a bitch to you.” she apologized again, prompting you to roll your eyes. “just so you know i could never hate you.” you bumped your nose on hers. tashi let out a huffed laugh, bringing one of her hands up to your cheek to pull you in for another kiss not caring that you were standing were anyone could see because right now it was just you and her.

—

#girliism #challengers #tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan fluff

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likeadevils · 1 year ago

Text

1989 Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on 1989 in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing 1989 and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process

Of all the albums in Taylor's discography, I think this is the one that improves the most when you listen to it in order. All of those things Taylor was talking about in the promo for this album-- how this is an album of her coming into her own, figuring out her values, learning to stand on her own two feet-- it all clicks into place. Listening to it in order has made me cry on more than one occasion, and it's also the thing that made me start this whole crazy process of figuring out the dates she wrote each song.

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

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

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

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

Speculation: This date is based on guesswork and is highly likely to change, or, all that is known is the general season.

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

Without further ado...

Oct 6, 2012: Taylor seems to have been in a studio in London (Note: I have no idea where this photo comes from and I can not find a place that specifies if this is a music studio or radio interview.)

This Love: Oct 17, 2012 (Confirmed)

October 19, 2012: Taylor mentions wanting to work with Imogen Heap, prompting Imogen to get in touch with Taylor

Time Interview: Who’d be your dream collaboration, especially now that you’re taking more musical risks? Let me think. Imogen Heap! She’s amazing. Taylor: Someone asked me in an interview "Who would you like to work with?" and I said Imogen Heap. I get an email to my management, sent like "Imogen just saw that Taylor just said an interview that she would like to work together" She said "Why don't you come out to my studio." Imogen: I got a phone call [in 2014] saying Taylor Swift was in London, she'd love to work with me and the only date she could do (between 4 sold out 02 arenas!) was the day after we got back, Sunday. It was both unexpected and not at the same time as I'd heard Taylor was a fan a while back via this Time magazine piece but somehow didn't think it would actually happen.

Fall 2012: Taylor possibly writes a song with Harry Styles and Jacknife Lee (her producer for The Last Time).

Jacknife Lee: “It was out of my field of expertise and interest, but I was intrigued and my girls were thrilled. Taylor was nice and very professional. She knew what she wanted and there was no fucking about. She was seeing Harry Styles at the time, so he came to Topanga on her recommendation. She wrote a few songs with him, and it was the same thing – quick. But this time it was more directed by the management and label. They were after something specific. I wanted more acoustic and gentle, almost Americana, and they wanted bombast. They got what they wanted, and that was the extent of my foray into teen-pop territory. It was fun.”

All You Had to Do Was Stay: Jan 10, 2013 (Confirmed)

Taylor is photographed outside Conway, and then tweets "Back in the studio. Uh oh..." Later, Taylor confirmed that she was recording All You Had To Do Was Stay. Taylor: I had a dream that my ex showed up at my door, knocked at my door, and I opened it up, and I was about ready to launch into the perfect thing to say [...], Instead, all that would come out of my mouth was that high-pitched chorus of people singing, 'Stay!'...and then you go to say something else, and it's just like 'Stay! Stay! Stay!' And I woke up, I was like 'Oh, that was mortifying. But that's kind of a cool vocal part.'

January 11, 2013: Taylor is photographed outside Conway again

How You Get The Girl: Jan 15, 2013 (Confirmed)

Taylor posts a picture of her playing a guitar in the studio, captioned "Somewhere in LA..". Later, Taylor confirmed that she was recording How You Get The Girl. Given what was going on in her personal life, she likely wrote this sometime in the fall/winter of 2012, but all we know for sure is the date she recorded it.

February 9, 2013: Tweets "Grammy rehearsals last night, studio today, who knows what tonight holds! (I do. Laying around watching TV and eating candy.)"

March 6, 2013: Taylor is photographed outside a studio in LA

March 23, 2013: Posts a picture of her playing guitar captioned "Pre show. Columbia, South Carolina"

I Wish You Would: May 28, 2013 (Inferring)

Taylor is photographed out for lunch in Rhode Island with Lena Dunham and Jack Antonoff on May 27, before leaving for her show in Phoenix, Arizona the next day Taylor: "Max Martin and [Karl Johan] Shellback [Schuster] were the last people I collaborated with on [2012 album] Red, and I wished we could have done more and explored more. So going into this album, I knew that I wanted to start with them again. Then I thought, “Wouldn’t it be amazing to work with Ryan Tedder?” And then I was with Jack Antonoff and Lena Dunham at the beach, and we started talking about our favorite ’80s music. All of this started happening organically, and I found myself gravitating toward pop sensibilities, pop hooks, pop production styles." Jack: "We were hanging out at her house in Rhode Island and we were talking about John Hughes movies, and a lot of the music that inspired [them], and just this general culture of sound in that time period that was really larger-than-life in an anthemic, positive way. These songs could be at the end of films that were really, really beautiful and said a lot. That actually ended up being a song called 'I Wish You Would' which is going to be on her album. We first worked on that song together and realized we kind of have a good thing. Taylor: “This is a song I did with Jack Antonoff, and Jack is one of my friends and so we were hanging out and he pulled out his phone and goes "I made this amazing track the other day. It's so cool, I love these guitar sounds." And he played it for me and immediately I could hear this finished song in my head, and I just said "Please, please let me have that. Let me play with it, like send it to me" And so he sent it to me and I was on tour and this was me playing the track on my laptop recording me singing the vocal into my phone and it ended up being a song called "I Wish You Would", because Jack wrote back and said "I love that".”

June 7, 2013: At the CMA fest, Taylor is asked if she's started writing for her next album yet

“It's starting, all the anxiety is starting and when the anxiety starts, then the writing happens right afterward, usually. Um, so, yeah, I basically... I like to, I like to write for about two years before I'm finished with an album because I... at this point I kind of know that whenever I write in the first year is going to get thrown away, because, I'm going to like it, but it's going to sound a little bit like the last project I had, and the second year usually ends up sounding like the next project. So I think at this point, at this point I feel like staying the same is the easy way to go but it's not the way that I want to go, creatively. I think you need to challenge yourself, I think you need to change up your influences, I think you need to be inspired by different things that you've been inspired by before, and, uh, y'know, It's harder to call people you don't know, and it's harder to think of topics you haven't covered and think of new ways to say old emotions that everyone feels, but, that's the goal at this point."

June 20-21, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez hang out, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

July 15, 2013: Taylor gives a brief interview to Rolling Stone

“The floodgates just opened the last couple weeks,” she says of the songwriting process. “I’m getting to that point where I’m irritating to be around because I’ll be with you for half the conversation and then the second half of the conversation I’m clearly editing the second verse of whatever I’m writing in my head.” “I really loved collaborating [on Red],” she says. “You work with a lot of different people and you find the people you have this dream connection with in the studio. I know those people and I know the ones I want to go back to. But I also have a really long list of the people I admire and I would really love to go and contact. So that’s kind of where that is.” “I think that the idea of having a different approach to every single one of my albums is so exciting to me. I never want to make the same record twice. Why do it? What’s the point? It’s so overwhelming that when you’re starting a project there are such endless possibilities if you’re willing to evolve and experiment. If you’re willing to become a different version of yourself, you can really go anywhere with it. And that’s kind of where I am. The kind of the laboratory experimental stage of really catching onto a new thing that I’m liking.”

July 18, 2013: Taylor unfollows the three backup dancers that left her tour for Katy's, meaning Bad Blood was likely written sometime between July and November 2013.

Sweeter Than Fiction: Summer 2013 (Speculation)

Taylor wrote this one over email, and then it was recorded in New York (partially in Jack's living room, partially in an actual studio)

August 25, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez hang out at the VMAs, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

August 25, 2013: Taylor gives a brief interview on the VMAs red carpet

"But I think [songwriting is] about to start to kick into full gear. I'm about to go into the studio. It's about to get really intense."

Out Of The Woods: September 14 2013 (Inferring)

On September 14, Fun cancelled their show. Taylor was likely either flying to or from Charlottesville, where she had a show for the Red Tour. Jack: "When I did the track for Out of the Woods, which is a Taylor song that I'm really proud of, there was some issue at a venue and our show was canceled that night and I didn't have my stuff, I had left it on the bus, so I only had these old samples on what was on my laptop, and caught up that 'oh oh'' thing, and I only had one drum kit on there, and these dumb little things [sometimes turn into a great song]" Jack: "So 'Out Of The Woods' was the third thing we worked on together, and probably the easiest. I sent her the track for it, and she sent back a voice note with the verse and chorus in what felt like five seconds. And it was just perfect. It's eerie how similar it is to what the final product is." Taylor: "This is a track that Jack Antonoff sent me, and I was actually on a plane, I got it and I got on a plane and I'm listening to it, and I'm just like listening to it and mumbling melodies cause the song came to me immediately like, in full [...] I think what I should start by playing you, is when I got the track, what I sent him like an hour later, and it is, me.. um, me singing what came to me, which ended up being the finished version of the song, or at least really close to it."

September 20, 2013: In a brief interview with USA Today, Taylor says she plans to work on her next album between the next few legs of the Red Tour

"I’ll be in the studio, figuring out what comes next. I really like to take two years to make a record, and I’ve been writing and doing stuff for the last year. This is kind of the year that it goes into overdrive, and it’s all I think about and I become obsessive over it and I’m hard to talk to"

September 22, 2013: Taylor gives an interview to New York Magazine where she talks about her plans for TS5

These days, Swift is thinking a lot about her next record. While on the Red tour, she’d been writing songs and stockpiling ideas: reams of lyrics, thousands of voice memos in her iPhone [...] she plans to spend much of 2014 writing and recording the new album, a prospect she finds exhilarating and terrifying. “I worry about everything. Some days I wake up in a mind-set of, like, ‘Okay, it’s been a good run.’ By afternoon, I could have a change of mood and feel like anything is possible and I can’t wait to make this kind of music I’ve never made before. And then by evening, I could be terrified of the whole thing again. And then at night, I’ll write a song before bed.” Swift hopes to collaborate with new songwriters and producers. But she planned to begin, she said, by heading back into the studio with Max Martin and Shellback. “I want to go in with Max and Johan first, just to figure out what the bone structure of this record is going to be. “I have a lot of things to draw from emotionally at the moment. But I have to draw from them with a different perspective than on Red. I can’t say the same things over and over, you know? I mean, I think it’s just all the more important that I don’t ever allow myself to coast. At the same time, there’s a mistake that I see artists make when they’re on their fourth or fifth record, and they think innovation is more important than solid songwriting. The most terrible letdown as a listener for me is when I’m listening to a song and I see what they were trying to do. Like, where there’s a dance break that doesn’t make any sense, there’s a rap that shouldn’t be there, there’s like a beat change that’s, like, the coolest, hippest thing this six months—but it has nothing to do with the feeling, it has nothing to do with the emotion, it has nothing to do with the lyric. I never want to put things in songs just because that might make them popular, like, on the more rhythmic stations or in dance clubs. I really don’t want a compilation of sounds. I just need them to be songs.”

September 28-October 5, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez are in the same city, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

October 12, 2013: Taylor gives an interview to the Associated Press

Swift: I think the goal for the next album is to continue to change, and never change in the same way twice [...] How do I write these figurative diary entries in ways that I’ve never written them before and to a sonic backdrop that I’ve never explored before? It’s my fifth album, which is crazy to think about, but I think what I’m noticing about it so far is it’s definitely taking a different turn than anything I’ve done before. AP: You said recently you’ve been working on songs for the new album for about six months. What can you tell us about what you have planned? Swift: It’s too early to tell who are going to be my predominant collaborators, but I do know that my absolute dream collaborators were Shellback and Max Martin on the last project. I’ve never been so challenged as a songwriter. I’ve never learned so much. I’ve never just been so excited to show up to the studio every day, just because you never know what we’re going to put together. I’ll bring in ideas and they’ll take such a different turn than where I thought they were going to go, and that level of unexpected spontaneity is something that really thrills me in the process of making music. ... What if we did this? What if we made it weirder? What if we took it darker? I love people who have endless strange and exciting ideas about where music can go."

October 14, 2013: At the NSAI, Taylor talks about reinventing herself for different albums

"I’m making my 5th record now, so I think you have to change things up, you have to explore different corners of music as much as you can. Cause I really, it’s been a big goal of mine to never make two albums that sounded the same. I really want my fans to be able to be like "Oh that song? Clearly that's from the Fearless album", "No that one, that one was from Red" and so I’m in the process of doing that thing all over again for my 5th album and it’s amazing to be in the studio and to be songwriting again, and be honored for songwriting tonight"

Blank Space: October 26, 2013 (Inferring)

It looks like she’s wearing the same outfit in this behind the scenes footage and these candids Taylor: "I was going into write with Max Martin and Shellback, who are two of the primary collaborators on 1989, and I... was preparing all these things, and I, I think Blank Space was like the third thing I played them, and they just stopped and they were like "NO, this is the first thing we're working on today." [...] I had the idea for the chorus and I had the hook, but a lot of the verse was gibberish." Taylor (On what song took her the least amount of time to write): "Blank space, cause I'd written a lot of the lines down already in the year preceding the session"

October 29, 2013: Tweets "Sitting in the studio writing the next album (!!!!) and wanted to thank you for the American Music Award nominations!"

November 1 : While promoting Keds, Taylor is asked about her next album

"What I go through is going to be the story that I tell. I think lyrically, I always try to tell my fans exactly what’s happened to me in the last two years, and that’s the thing they can expect. Everything else, they won’t be able to expect. Having been in the studio with this one, I’m just like… oh, this is going to be fun"

Bad Blood: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

The backup dancer drama seems to have kicked off in mid-July. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

New Romantics: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Unfortunately, Taylor doesn't really talk about this song. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

Wildest Dreams: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Selena reportedly told a fan she was there when Taylor wrote this, and I've noted above all the times Selena could have been with Taylor in 2013 (Here's my personal ranking of how likely each date is). Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013.

Wonderland: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Another one Taylor just doesn't talk about all that often. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

Nov 20, 2013: Taylor posted "While in the studio, I came to the realization that my bangs are long enough to use as a sleep mask on long flights. Then I remembered I don't ever use sleep masks on flights. So really, I just need a haircut"

November 25, 2013: Taylor and Scott Borchetta have a meeting to talk about her plans for TS5 and are both asked about the next album at the AMAs

Taylor: “We got a lot already. There are probably seven or eight [songs] that I know I want on the record. It’s really ahead of schedule for me. I’m just stoked because it’s already evolved into a new sound, and that’s all I wanted. And I would have taken two years to make that happen, but it just kind of happened naturally, so that’s all I could really ask for.” Scott Borchetta: "Well earlier today we got together and she played me seven new songs, and she’s just on fire. The level of desire and passion that she has just to keep getting better, she’s an artist that just really never wants to just say ‘Well okay this is good enough’. It’s always gotta be better. She’s in amazing creative place right now." By the end of November, Taylor had likely recorded This Love, All You Had To Do Was Stay, How You Get The Girl, I Wish You Would, Out Of The Woods, Blank Space, Bad Blood, New Romantics, Wildest Dreams, and Wonderland. That’s 10 songs total, 5 of which were likely recorded in the past two months, and 7 that had been made since Taylor and Jack had their conversation about 80s music in May.

Dec 21, 2013: Taylor briefly talks to Billboard about TS5

"I’m really loving collaboration right now [...] I see it as a bit of an apprenticeship. I want to be around people who love writing songs and have done it for years. Every time I’m in a studio I’m learning, like how to build a drum track, and getting a new perspective on things. It’s so thrilling to keep learning on your fifth album. As soon as [an album] comes out I’m figuring out what the next one will be. It’s gotten to the point where each one is a reinvention, which is what I like best. I like it when it sounds new and people don’t know where you’re going to go next."

Say Don't Go: Jan 1, 2014 (Confirmed)

Diane Warren: Warren, who typically writes on her own, says the two of them “sat down and wrote the song […] from scratch” during the last few days of 2013. She remembers being impressed with how specific Swift was with her lyricism and how considerate she was about how her fans might receive it. “She was very particular about how she said certain things. It was a really interesting experience. She gets her audience [...] She’s deeply aware of how her fans want to hear something. I can’t explain it, but that’s probably why she’s the biggest fucking star in the world.” Several days after writing the song together, they got into Warren’s office to record a demo, where Swift played it on her acoustic guitar. “We demoed it on New Year’s Day. And I’m a workaholic, and that’s fine for me,” she says. “But I remember being impressed that she did, too. Everybody’s on vacation, but she showed up.”

You Are In Love: Jan 2014 (Inferring)

This song is copyrighted for 2014. Taylor has said a few times that Clean, Shake It Off, and Style were the last songs written for the album, meaning You Are In Love was likely completed in January or early February. Given Taylor's busy schedule in late January and early February, I'd guess this was written at some point in early January. Furthermore, I'd guess it was sometime after the 9th, when she returned from looking at house in New York.

I Know Places: Jan 22, 2014 (Confirmed)

Taylor: "I sent this voice memo to Ryan Tedder because I'd always wanted to work with him, and finally we scheduled some studio time. So I always wanna be prepared, I wanted to send him the idea that I was working on before we went into the studio just in case he wrote back and said "I can't stand that, I wanna work on something else, think of something else" So I just sat down with the piano, put my phone on top of the piano and just kind of explained to him where I wanted to go with the song, how I saw the melody sitting in and we ended up recording the song the next day and it ended up being on the record called "I Know Places" So this was the voice memo that I sent to him the night before we ended up finishing the song"

Welcome To New York: Jan 23, 2014 (Confirmed)

Ryan Tedder: "I thought we were going to walk in and start something from scratch because that's what I was used to. Then she calls me and says, 'Is it cool if I already have an idea?' I said, 'Sure.' She said, 'I have this song, I'm obsessed with New York and I just moved there, I want to write an ode to New York because no one's done it in a long time.' And then she sent me a voice memo. She's like, 'I want it to sound like 1980s.' So the next day I brought in a Juno-106, which is a very 1980s keyboard and I literally programmed that entire song right in front of her. It was very much on the fly, and that song was done in about three hours. And I did the rest of the production I think later that week. I was in Switzerland on a tour bus, and I did four versions of 'Welcome to New York,' one of which I liked personally more, but the thing about artists is they become very obsessed with the demo. She was in love with the demo so no matter how hard I fought, she brought it back to the demo, so really what you hear is what I did on the first day."

January 26 2014: Dianne Warren says that she recently wrote a song with Taylor

"I worked with Taylor Swift on a great song [...] I'm excited about the [song] that we did, it's pretty cool Dianne in 2016: “I know [Swift] likes it, so hopefully it will see the light of day. I know she really likes the song. She didn’t want me to give it away, so hopefully that means she wants it.”

January 26 2014: Taylor loses Album of the Year at the Grammy's to Daft Punk. She tells a few different stories about what the rest of the night looked like for her-- in some she goes home alone, in some she has some friends over-- but in all of them, this is the night where she decides that she's gonna name the album 1989, and she's not going to let her label tell her to put any country songs on it.

Clean: Feb 9, 2014 (Confirmed)

According to Imogen Heap's blog post, Taylor had the first verse and chorus by the time they got into the studio, and then wrote the second verse and bridge during the session. Taylor's part was wrapped up in 9 hours, ending at 8pm, while Imogen stayed up until 4am because she didn't want to stop working on it. Taylor: ""Shake It Off" and "Clean" were the last two things we wrote for the record, so it shows you where I ended up mentally. “Clean” I wrote as I was walking out of Liberty in London. Someone I used to date— it hit me that I’d been in the same city as him for two weeks and I hadn’t thought about it. When it did hit me, it was like, ‘Oh, I hope he’s doing well’. And nothing else. [...] The first thought that came to my mind was – I’m finally clean." Imogen Heap: I was really writing the tiniest amount just to help her do what she does. I put some noises to [“Clean”], played various instruments on it, including drums, and anytime she expressed she liked something I was doing, I did it more. It was a really fun day. She recorded all her vocals [for “Clean”] during that one session. She did two takes, and the second take was it. We always thought she would probably re-record it, because we thought it can’t possibly be that easy. But after we lived with it for a few months, we felt it was great.

February 15, 2014: Taylor posts "It was a studio Valentines Day with Max and Johan!"

Shake It Off: Feb 15, 2014 (Confirmed)

Lover Diaries (From Feb 22): "This week I’ve been in the studio with Max and Johan every day and it has been the most creatively successful and fulfilling time. The first day, Johan just made a really up tempo drum beat because we decided we needed something UP and light. We worked at it for a few hours before I just started singing “shake it off, shake it off.” And then the best way I know how to describe it is that the chorus just fell out of the sky. It ended up being this song about doing your own thing even though haters are gonna hate, and you just have to dance to your own beat. We all went home and I wrote the first and second verses and brought them in the next day. We wrote this chanty cheer leader bridge that I absolutely LOVE. We spent all day doing vocals and the next day recording background vocals. I think it’ll end up being the first single and Max said it’s his favorite song he’s ever been a part of." Taylor: "The problem was, I had all these lyrics, and I didnt have, like... writing session was coming up and I'm just like "I'm not getting a melody, I'm dead, I don't know what I'm gonna do." The thought terrified me, so I just sorta sulked into the studio and I was like "Guys, I have like an idea but its like, lyric, but I... and I know the vibe I want-- I want it to start off and the second the song starts, I want it to be the song where like, if it's played at a wedding, and there's this one girl who hasn't danced all night at the reception, all her friends come over to her and there like "You have to dance, come on, you have to dance on this one!". That's what I wanted. So I was like "Shellback, can you just go to the drum kit and try to play that?" Taylor: "There's one thing that I've always said to Max, is like "I don't like horns" I just always had a thing about it, I was always like weirdly scared of it, or intimidated by horns, I don't know what it was? It's a weird, like, nerdy studio fear of mine. I was like "No, no horns!" and I don't.. I don't even know, I don't have a reason for it, I love songs that have horns on them, I was just like "I don't think I can pull off horns." Strange. But, he goes over to the mellotron and he starts playing this horn sound. I'm like "What are you doing. Don't do that." and he's like, "No, I think this is cool" and I'm like "No it's not cool, and where are your chorus chords, because, that, you're just playing three chords over and over again and I can't make a chorus out of them, why don't you go to like a chorus chord that starts off the chorus, where is the one, like why don't you go--" and then there was this moment, where I thought of the whole chorus, and it's over the chords that I had just told him are not "chorus chords", which is a ridiculous thing to say."

February 18, 2014: Taylor is photographed entering Conway Studios

Style: Feb 19, 2014 (Confirmed)

Niklas Ljungfelt (guitarist): I played on “Style,” a song I started with Ali Payami for ourselves. He was playing it for Max Martin at his studio; Taylor overheard it and loved it. She and Max wrote new lyrics. But I recorded the guitar on it before it was a Taylor song. It was an instrumental. I didn’t have a clue that Taylor would sing on it. The inspiration came from Daft Punk and funky electronic music. Taylor: I'm pretty sure after we finished this one I knew the record was done. Shake It Off and Style were the last two songs to be written for 1989.

March 2014: Taylor's interview with Glamour is published (likely conducted two months beforehand)

TS: Working on this album has been unbelievable [...] I'm already in love with it. It's so different. CL: What's the new sound? TS: On Red I did three songs with Max Martin Shellback [...] I think we'll be doing a lot more than three songs together on the next album [Laughs].

March 26, 2014: Taylor is photographed entering a music studio in New York

"Slut!": 2014 (Unknown)

Taylor: The song “Slut!” is a song we wrote for 1989 and in it, I kind of cheekily play on the discussions at that time of my life around my dating life. And that’s not the only time on 1989 that I’d done that, I’ve done that on “Blank Space” and when I came down to having to pick songs for the album, I think I though, “Okay, well, I’m going to choose ‘Blank Space’” and, unfortunately, had to make some tough decisions in terms of what to put on the tracklist. But I love this song because I think it’s really dreamy. And I always saw 1989 as a New York album, but this song, to me, was always California, and maybe that was another reason it didn’t make the cut, because sometimes, thematically, I just had these little weird rules in my head. But I’m so happy it’s finally going to be something you guys hear, because I have always been proud of it, I’ve always wanted it to come out into the world and now it is, so yay!

Suburban Legends: 2014 (Unknown)

Taylor hasn't talked about this song, and it was produced by Jack Antonoff, who she didn't schedule time in the studio with in the same way she did with Max Martin and Shellback, so there's not a lot to work with.

Is It Over Now?: 2014 (Unknown)

Similarly to Suburban Legends, Jack produced this, so there's no obvious point in time to point to. She has spoken briefly about it though. Taylor: “Is It Over Now” is a song I wanted to end the album with because I think it’s kind of a fun play on words of like, “Is the album over now?” I always saw this song as sort of a sister to “Out Of The Woods” and “I Wish You Would,” I kind of saw those songs as similar, so, unfortunately, when we were making these decisions of what to put on 1989 and what to leave behind, I had to make some tough choices, and now it doesn’t matter anymore because you guys are going to hear all the songs. I’m so happy this song is out. I really love the “let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later,” that session, I just feel like head banging to every time it comes on. Hope you agree.

May 30, 2014: Taylor writes in her diary:

So a crazy story unfolded in the last 24 hours. Last night, I had this vivid dream where the photo I’d chosen for the album cover wasn’t good enough, intriguing enough, artful enough. It woke me up. I couldn’t shake it and it stayed with me all day. Because that nagging feeling I’d been pushing back for weeks was now confirmed in my gut … It wasn’t good enough. I went to the venue, mind racing, wondering if I’d have to do an entirely new photo shoot … I got to my dressing room with newer versions of the “cover.” I looked at it and felt nothing. The team pulled up this new scanned file of the Polaroids we had taken during the shoot. I saw within 10 seconds. The shot. The cover. It’s a Polaroid of me sitting against a beige wall with a blue seagull swear shirt on. You can see my red lips, but the photo cuts off my eyes. From some reason unknown to me, it’s the most intriguing photo I’ve seen. I think it’s the mystery of not seeing my eyes. Maybe it just looks effortlessly cool. The craziest moment came when something caught my eye. The cover photo is photo 13. I kid you not.

August 23, 2014: Taylor is photographed walking out of a studio in LA (Note: I can not find a place that specifies if this is a recording studio, dance, photography, radio, or television studio.)

Now That We Don't Talk: Summer 2014 (Speculation)

Seeing as Taylor said she didn't have time to figure out the production, I imagine this came fairly late in the process. Taylor has a habit of adding songs right up to the deadline-- with Folklore and Evermore, she added multiple songs a week before the album came out. The latest she added songs to albums while signed to Big Machine was September, though (both Forever & Always and So It Goes...), so I assume that's the absolute latest she could've added a song to 1989. Taylor: "Now That We Don’t Talk” is one of my favorite songs that was left behind, it was so hard to leave it behind, but I think we wrote it a little bit towards the end of the process and we couldn’t get the production right at the time. But we had tons of time to perfect the production this time and figure out what we wanted this song to sound like. I think it’s the shortest song I’ve ever had, but I think it packs a punch, I think it really goes in. For the short amount of time we have, I think it makes its point.

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

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

#txt*#timeline*#taylor swift #OH MY GOD ITS OUT ITS OUT ITS OUT I'VE BEEN RESEARCHING THIS FOR THREE YEARS AND IT'S DONE #!!!!!#as always let me know if you want further sourcing on anything/if you spot a typo or something

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archibaldtuttle · 4 months ago

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Alien : Romulus - a 7/10 reason to stop making Alien films

This review will be spoiler-free

When I came out of the theater yesterday, after having gone through a viewing of Alien Romulus, I caught myself agreeing with my friends - this was pretty good!

And I am beyond poisoned about the Alien franchise since Ridley Scott got his grubby paws all over it with Prometheus. The only reason I made the effort to move my ass to the theater to see this one was because he wasn't directing (and also I didn't have to pay for it) (thanks sib).

I knew Alvarez from two of his previous films, the 2013 remake of Evil Dead and Don't Breathe. I am pretty mixed on both - they demonstrate solid filmmaking abilities and (in the case of Evil Dead), a deep respect for franchises he's adding to. However they are also a little heavy on the jumpscares for my taste, and in the case of Don't Breathe I just can't praise the film without having to mention that the third act twist is gross in an entirely unnecessary, shock-value way, that does nothing for the film thematically.

That did give me some hope for Romulus however, because that third act twist told me Alvarez likes talking about rape and impregnation. And contrary to Don't Breathe... that's right at home in Alien.

So what about the film then? It's good. Solid premise, I like that we're finally, finally, seven films in, seeing the planet-side society that births all those rundown spaceships. Good pair of main characters with on one side a demonstrably resourceful Rain and on the other a very nuanced look at the franchise's synthetics with Andy. The others are more forgettable but I can't blame that too much on the film - they're well characterized in a few short scenes and that's all I can expect really. The build-up is solid, the various ticking clocks and sources of tensions well established.

What I find particularly notable is the really good setpieces and the use of facehuggers in a way I've wanted to see for a long time. Very good physical effects supplemented by good to ok-ish CGI. The writing is very heavy-handed - I wish more people looked at what O'Bannon did with exposition before they write their own Alien scripts. I do give credit to Alvarez and his co-writer Sayagues for the cool concepts explored and the way they thread Andy's character exploration through them.

The editing is mostly blameless - I wouldn't call it great or even that good, especially with how hectic it gets during some more action-ey scenes, but you can tell Roberts isn't specialized or even used to horror films. I guess he took from his experience on Pressure which would explain a lot... The score is really good, one of the highlights of the film in my opinion - I've liked almost all I've heard from Wallfisch so I wasn't surprised to find out he did this one.

So why did I give this review a very baitey title. It became clear as I was watching the fourth, then the inevitable fifth act unfold, that we were, collectively, scraping the barrel on what can be done with Alien. Prometheus and Covenant, beyond the fact that they were garbage movies, were already trying desperately to find new things to do with the concept. Romulus succeeded, for the most part, in finding new ways to twist it into something interesting, something we hadn't seen before (or at least not entirely). And I'm pretty sure that's it.

I don't want more directors to spend months racking their brains to try and find three or more scene setups that haven't already been done in seven main films, two AVP films and countless video games, in order to string them together into a coherent 2 and a half hour flick. I don't think it's impossible, Alvarez clearly demonstrated that he could do it and I'm pretty sure other people could. But why waste so much time, talent and energy on a series that objectively does not need expanding upon?

I know why, it's because the current studio system is allergic to anything that doesn't have brand recognition. But I think it's sad. And I think it would be a lot more gracious to put an end to a franchise after a pretty good film that did all it could to honor its predecessors rather than try to keep squeezing more out of it until it turns into the horror version of Star Wars.

#film talk #alien romulus #alien #film review

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certifiablyinsanez · 4 months ago

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This post is dedicated to our favorite sexual sacrifice, Emberlynn Pinkle, and why she is an important character even if we never see her again. Let’s buckle in for a crazy character analysis of someone we’ve only seen for 4 minutes.

There are many facets of this short that hold importance, including but not limited to the mysterious pendant, any potential foreshadowing, parallels between Emberlynn and pre-Ozzie’s Stolas, etc. What I want to talk about is the character of Emberlynn herself and what is truly represents.

Many anti’s of the show are foaming at the mouth over her, particularly the fact that Emberlynn is a caricature of the Hellaverse fandom that was created specifically to make fun of us. Funnily enough, many of us who have been in actual fandom spaces are not unfamiliar with people like Emberlynn, and at some point, a fair number of us admit to being like her, which is the main thing I want to touch on.

People watering Emberlynn and the short down to a cheap shot at fandoms and fans of the show is intellectually lazy. It can be seen as a critique of peoples’ own biases considering many of us that have been in fandom spaces have done so for a long time. And it’s funny, because these people have been threatening to doxx fans, harm them, send messages to their bosses to get them fired, to schools so they’d lose scholarships, etc. The kind of people that would order a hit on us in hell…Many anti’s and people who are against cringe culture often participate in it unwittingly. Take for instance, the anti’s of the Hellaverse shows who dedicate entire blogs to picking apart everything from character interaction to even three second frames. They take over the tags associated with the fandom just so they can pump bitter content out, and are actively hostile when fans confront them over their weird behavior. Because fans of Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel are normally not the kind of people who would watch entire seasons, keep up on content and lore, or interact with actors and fandom over something they hate. We would just…not watch it and not interact. And it’s that kind of strange behavior that is intrinsic in fandom. Fandom spaces have forever had a dark side, that much is undeniable, but now more than ever there has been an influx of people unaccustomed and socially unequipped to participate and interact in the spaces that have been infesting it.

I have been in fandom spaces since 2013 and my first fandom was Hetalia. If you know you know. Many people in these spaces have been targeted for being “freaks” for years, but the areas where we have thrived, made friends and enjoyed ourselves was relatively untouched by the “normies”. That’s definitely changed in recent years, especially when the pandemic forced people who would normally socialize in other spaces come to ours. We all remember alt fashion blowing up in 2020 just for people to be finding entire wardrobes of it at goodwill not even 2 years later. And when they came in, they started adding rules and stipulations. They would allow themselves permission to interact with us weirdo outcasts, but only in a way that could give them plausible deniability later when they knew the trend wouldn’t last. They would enter a space that was nerdy and when furry iconography would show up they would whine about furries “making it weird” when it was already “weird”. They would dress and call themselves punk but still think it was important to listen to “both sides”. And when it comes to the Hellaverse, it’s popular, and entering the mainstream via Amazon picking up Hazbin, but if you’re not willing to be critical of its unsavory parts then you’re complicit in things like rape, violence, drug use, etc.

These people have infiltrated our community, which sounds extreme but when I remember it from my teen years vs now, I think these people genuinely would’ve combusted on sight. Like I said before, I was in the Hetalia fandom for many years. If you don’t remember, people were cosplaying as Germany and doing the Nazi salute at cons and concentration camps. It was bad. It was equivalent to our new blackface Alastor controversy. Back then, the fandom handled it ourselves. We all agreed that that was unacceptable behavior, and people would express disgust, but they were also productive. Fans would post about how we needed to realize that there was real history behind this show and that we needed to be mindful when participating in that environment. I saw many cosplayers altering their costumes to be more mindful. Germany cosplayers would refuse to wear iron cross, which isn’t even technically solely fascisitic in nature, but did it anyway because it was seen as respectful. I’ve seen a resurgence of the fandom on tiktok recently and all of us are allowing ourselves to enjoy it, because for years we had to pretend that we were stupid weirdos for liking it to begin with. Fandom has to allow itself to be cringe again, as it has been affected by people that are in an echo chamber of self righteousness and acceptability.

Getting back to Emberlynn, I have hardly ever seen a take off of a character like this. Even when it was shown that Baxter was coming in season 2 of Hazbin I saw maybe a handful of fan arts and videos. But Emberlynn has EXPLODED. I watched the short when it had been out for only 26 minutes, and within the hour my feeds across all social media were full of her.

I genuinely think that it’s because she is the epitome of fandom, where all of our cringe has been rolled into one character. Her self insert name is literally a reference to old fandom. She’s a proshipper, a selfshipper, she gets into shipping wars and has been fighting with people online for almost a decade. She said the pendant was from an episode “569”, which is strange wording because episodes aren’t usually formatted that way in any sort of media, which could potentially mean that she’s watched over 500 episodes of Akuma no Otto. Her room is full of pornographic material, figurines, the BODY PILLOW. I mean come on. Her parents are fully aware that she watches hentai. She was upstairs moaning and crying while interacting with Blitz and being stabbed and her parents did not go up to check on her, nor think it was out of the ordinary. She is pastel goth, a subset of the gothic culture, and writes self insert fanfiction. She’s A MONSTERFUCKER. HELLO?? When everyone in the Hellverse is as hot as they are…come on. When she dies and goes to hell her sinner form has furry influences. All of us love her because even if we were never fully like her (ie stalkerish, obsessive), we’ve been like her in some way at some point, or even now. I write fanfiction. I’m part of alternative fashion and culture. I’ve been into cringe stuff for a while. I’m not necessarily super into furry stuff, but I love the suits, the artistry and even had an idea for an oc once. My profile pic is literally my Sinner OC.

Emberlynn is a return to form for the standard of fandom spaces and I think to those of us that truly embrace the lifestyle, it’s refreshing. She does not exist in the realm of acceptability; she’s fat, intense and unapologetic. And yet, she’s still super hot, funny, and entertaining. We don’t love her because she’s a respectable fan, we adore her because she’s insane. I’m a cofounder of a Facebook group about being fans of the Vees and we all agree that she would actually do well with Valentino, because that cutie needs some disrespectful eldrich cock ASAP lol. It’s refreshing, and even if we never see her again, I still find her completely relevant and interesting.

Emberlynn Light’ness Demonanya Pinkle, you are PRECIOUS.

#helluva shorts #helluva boss #helluva boss blitz #emberlynn pinkle #helluva boss emberlynn #Emberlynn Light’ness Demoanya Pinkle #hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin memes #tumblr fyp #hellaverse #vivziepop #i love fandom #fandom

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dear-ao3 · 4 months ago

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new to f1 - can i ask for some team history? have red bull always been so dominant? how often do the cycles change??

yes yes ok So who’s dominant depends on a lot of things, drivers yea but mostly the car and who can make the regulations work for them. you can be the best driver but if you’re in a shit box you’re Fucked.

so presently red bull is dominating, max won in 2021 but they properly started dominating in 2022. this was cause of the big change in regulations mostly.

they change the regulations all the time but big changes are every few years for a variety of things: driver safety sometimes, making the cars have a lesser environmental impact, making things just plain more interesting, putting people on a level playing field etc etc. the last batch of regulations that caused mercedes fall from grace was i believe the cost cap. previously you could spend whatever the hell you wanted on the car and everything else. and Now there is a cost cap. this was done to try and bring the teams all closer together because previously it was all the top four or so teams that had all the money and would win things and then the back marker teams were just there. i don’t remember offhand what the cost cap is but i do know you can’t spend more than that each year on Everything (including crash repairs i’m Pretty sure) which keeps things interesting. anyway that and the other changes that got implemented in 2021 (?) caused red bulls rise to dominance.

mercedes had been dominating before then and won the constructors (team championship) from 2014-2021 (max won the drivers in 2021) and lewis hamilton won in 14 and 15 and then 17-20. nico rosberg won in 2016 (lewis’s teammate. he then retired after his first win. no one has ever done it like him and no one ever will again but we do Not have time for that). mercedes i believe only became a team in 2010 (?) they had been on the grid previously like Years ago but made a return in 2010 and had a few shit years before, surprise surprise, a regulation change went in their favor and they built a rocket ship.

prior to mercedes it was back at red bull. they won in 2010-2013 both constructors and drivers with sebastian vettel winning the drivers championships all 4 years. and i’m pretty sure it was another regulation change that caused them to rise to the top. red bull had been doing Okay prior to then but they i think only entered the grid in 2004(????) after buying the jaguar team

prior to 2010 there were several years where there wasn’t really multi year dominance by any one team.

jenson button won in 2009 with brawn (???) and that was a surprise to everyone especially the team and turns out they just so happened to build a good car that year.

lewis hamilton won at mclaren in 2008 at the end of a very very close season. i believe he won in the last race and it was a matter of a few points separating him and felipe massa at ferrari

2007 was won by kimi raikkonen at ferrari in yet another close season, lewis hamilton nearly won this season and it was his rookie season

then we had two years of fernando alonso at i think it was renault (which is now alpine) in 2005 and 2006.

prior to that was the real era of dominance from 2000-2004 with michael schumacher at ferrari

prior to that i’m not really sure of the teams and i’m in a car and not fact checking Any of this so i could be totally wrong about what i’m saying lol. but there were several years of williams dominance in the 90s and mclaren again had another few years i Think.

anyway. to answer your question. yes there are eras of dominance but it is far more interesting when it’s not because then multiple people are winning the races. like this season is the first time since 2021 there’s a proper title fight (at least for the constructors) since 2021 and we’ve had something like 7 i think different race winners, which hasn’t happened in A While

i hope this was helpful? if not feel free to ask me more questions

#not a tag #from saph #f1 #i feel like daniel ricciardo in the championship ep of grill the grid lol

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oswildin · 3 months ago

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Debated making this, but oh well, here we are…

I rewatched the Loki series.

Going to add here quickly that I have been a fan of Loki since 2012/2013, and I personally relate to his character for a multitude of reasons.

Now, I enjoy the series, but I wish they made it more character focused than they had. I do feel like they prioritised story in terms of making it fit the next phase over exploring and expanding on Loki’s character to some degree (a lot of it was surface level).

For example, I would’ve loved to have seen:

Exploring Loki’s Jotun heritage, even if it was a variant of him in the void that embraced it, dropped his aesir form, a conversation between Loki and his Jotun variant as they explain why they chose to embrace it, giving a different view to maybe how our Loki sees himself/the Jotuns. If ‘What If’ could have a frost giant Loki variant, why couldn’t the show?

Expanding upon what happened to Loki during that year after his fall from the Bifrost. The reason for this is self explanatory really, it would add more lore/depth to his experiences/actions during the Avengers. Maybe address the trauma he has from it.

Loki fighting with his so-called ‘desire’ for a throne more. By this I mean, I felt he flipped pretty quickly from his plan to overthrow the time keepers to just following along with Sylvie - which is fine, but I kinda thought there would be more push back from him. I get it was a life or death situation and Loki’s whole thing is ‘survival’, but it would’ve added to their dynamic and the fact the writers clearly wanted to push how Sylvie was different to other Loki’s.

Exploring Sylvie’s backstory more. It really did feel like it was an afterthought, which is a shame. I suppose they left it ambiguous for certain reasons, but I think they should’ve had more flashback scenes of what Sylvie could remember. I think it would’ve helped people understand and relate to her more. (I do love her though).

Actually showed Loki’s gender fluidity & shapeshifting ability more. Again, self explanatory really & important to his character, plus the whole implied only ‘woman variant’ thing with Sylvie should’ve not been a thing, like at all.

They should’ve given Loki more time to process everything. This show really should’ve had 8 episodes each season, I get that’s not the writers fault, likely Disney/marvel’s doing. Perhaps then the shift in his character wouldn’t have felt so jarring, especially considering he’s 2012 Loki. I do agree they wrote him as if he was Ragnarok!Loki, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it just felt jarring considering the last we saw of this Loki was Avengers. But then I could also argue that maybe he thought ‘what’s the point of it’ because the TVA know everything about him, but I digress.

Used Sylvie more in S2. It did feel like they didn’t quite know what to do with her, her and Loki clearly just needed to sit and discuss the citadel fight, but the closest thing we got is in EP3 where Sylvie says ‘this is all rather familiar, isn’t it?’, referencing their different/opposing opinions on the TVA/He Who Remains. And also maybe the pie room scene, but it’s very vague/not directly addressed.

Explored the fact that Mobius is not a good guy more. Because, he isn’t. And that’s okay. To me, the whole point of the show is based on Loki’s quote of ‘no one good is ever truly good, and no one bad is ever truly bad’, and whilst they do reference Mobius’ own morally grey actions/traits, they don’t particularly make it clear and most just see him as this ‘happy go lucky old man who likes pie and loves Loki variants’. In fact, I actually really liked the scene where Sylvie confronts him - which is a very unpopular opinion to have it seems, lol.

Delved into the psychology of Loki further than surface level/what we already know about him. Yes, we know he’s the God of Mischief. Yes, we know he isn’t evil. Yes, we know he is redeemable. Yes, we know he’s cunning, manipulative and selfish. We get that he projects this ‘illusion’ of himself, but it was only really mentioned in S1 EP1, maybe slightly EP2, before it’s never really mentioned again. I suppose S2 does this to a degree with the bar scene and EP5 of S1 in the time cell with Sif - also I think they tried to take the narcissist angle from the pov that it’s because of his low self-esteem as to why he needs validation and it’s a defence mechanism, but they didn’t particularly make that clear and made it seem like he just thinks highly of himself.

I know it seems like I have a lot of issues with the show, and I do, but I still enjoyed it. It’s okay to be critical of a piece of media and still enjoy it.

I do prefer S2 to S1, mostly because I prefer the direction they took it in and whilst I, of course, wanted better for Loki, I can’t deny S2 EP6 is a stunning finale. I sobbed so hard during the ending and still feel the grief that I actually lost someone I knew personally. But I also have hope that this means Loki is now a main player in the next phase (am I delusional? Maybe).

I enjoyed the dynamics, the back and forth/chemistry, the story was interesting, the set & costume design, the acting, the directing/colour grading, the music (Natalie Holt, you are genius), the emotions, the fun, the characters…

So this is not a hate post by any means, I will once again state, I enjoyed the show. But, I do have issues with it, and that’s okay too.

Please, dni if you’re just going to be argumentative or confrontational. I also don’t want to hear that just because I enjoyed the show that I’m ‘not a real fan’ lmao. I’m sorry, but I’ve been a Loki stan for over a decade, and I will not have someone tell me I’m not a real fan because of a piece of fictional media. Also, please do not mention anything regarding ships on this post, I do not care for it because it always ends up in arguments and I am a multishipper so I don’t tend to fight for any side. Thank you! :) /gen

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki series #media critique #marvel #mcu #loki disney+

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bengiyo · 11 months ago

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Hi, i'm a newish bl drama watcher from thailand that just started watching thai bls. i'm a bit ashamed to say that for a long time as a gay man living here i've been avoiding bl shows like the plague cuz of both the fandom reputation and of misconception from my yaoi era which i leave far behind. i'm just want to ask how did you got into watching thai bls and what were you preconception before you got into it.

Welcome to the Tumblr side of BL fandom. I'd actually like to also hear more of your experience with yaoi and BL as a gay person growing up in Thailand if you're willing to share.

For me, I'm a Black American from the Gulf Coast (the South). I grew up in a Catholic city and spent my entire adolescence in the closet. Despite having a sense of who I was as early as 8 years old, I kept most of that to myself. Because I didn't talk about it much with people, I found out most information about queer media and queerness from the internet.

I entered BL via queer cinema. I think the first explicitly gay character that I remember from TV was Marco from Degrassi: The Next Generation. There were probably others, and definitely more subtle expressions, but when I think about the oldest gay character I remember and connect to, it's Marco. I don't like counting things like shipping Shawn and Corey on Boy Meets World or Tai and Matt on Digimon for oldest gay characters. Sailor Moon can't even count because we got a censored version of it in America.

I got access to satellite television away from observing eyes around age 16 and started watching content on Logo back when they aired gay content regularly. I watched basically whatever I could late at night. It's how I saw movies like Get Real (1998), Beautiful Thing (1996), and Bent (1997). It's also how I saw Queer as Folk (2000-2005) Noah's Arc (2005-06).

After hitting adulthood I mostly got lost in video games and standard American TV for a while, but I did basically show up to any Gay Event in TV. I appreciate that Stef and Lena from The Fosters (2013-2018) were some of the only TV lesbians to survive the horror of 2016.

I watched a bunch of movies in this time, many of which appear on the Queer Cinema Syllabus I made for a hypothetical Westerner new to BL and queer cinema, which @wen-kexing-apologist has decided to try to complete.

I got into Thai BL in 2018 accidentally. I started seeing gifsets of Kongpob telling Arthit he'll make him his wife passing around Tumblr and was basically like, "Right, what's all this then?"

I had watched a few Thai gay films, mostly notably Love of Siam (2007), Bangkok Love Story (2007), How to Win at Checkers Every Time (2015), and The Blue Hour (2015), but this was the first time I was seeing a long series made available so easily from any Asian country.

From there I got into Make It Right (2016-17) and Love Sick the series (2014). Once I realized that yaoi had moved beyond manga and a few anime adaptations, I went looking for a lot more. I basically haven't left since I started in about 2016 with SOTUS.

There's my basic entry into the genre. I don't think I was as worried about fandom and worries at the time because so much of being a fan of queer cinema was a mostly-private experience for me for so long. I didn't realize that BL fans active in the space would predominantly be women or queers figuring themselves out. It took a while to adjust to that, and also to adjust my expectations of the kinds of queer stories BL distributors were willing to fund.

That being said, I tend to agree with @absolutebl that BL has a useful role in normalization for non-queer audiences who encounter it. I like cheering BL when it does things I think work really well, and also deriding it when I think it does things that are offensive to help nudge the genre and offer my perspective as a gay man.

I like the place we're at right now where there's way too much to watch for any person with other hobbies and responsibilities because it means that people can pick and choose what's to their tastes.

More often than not, I'm probably most-invested in something airing from Japan because of my melancholy nature, but there's so much variety these days that it's okay if you don't like everything. I certainly don't!

I'm glad you joined us on Tumblr and look forward to your thoughts!

#answered #thai bl #fandom life #about me

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

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Yearling - Ch. 22: Storm

A spring snowstorm hits Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-21 found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE CONTENT WARNINGS, THIS IS A ROUGH CHAPTER!!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Past sexual assault vaguely described; animal death; PTSD response; sexual assault of a minor mentioned in a vulgar way (not seen); possible child death. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 8.6k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early May, 2013

You were outside when the woman rode up.

Your home was well hidden and you’d only seen five people since Mark had left almost a year earlier, each of them making their way into your land and telling you that he’d sent them your way. They were all kind, they were all vulnerable and they were all loaded down with things you would need. Flashlight batteries and bulbs, sugar and salt, rubbing alcohol and petroleum jelly. Thread, fabric, pain killers, antibiotics, guitar strings. One woman had been sent with a snack sized bag of Lays that were still sealed and a bottle of whiskey. That had made you smile, the clearest sign that Mark hadn’t forgotten about you.

All of the others had arrived on foot, seemingly with a good idea of where to go, mostly alone but two women has traveled together. The timing wasn’t predictable but you at least knew what you could expect when someone Mark sent your way came into your territory.

This woman was different.

You heard her before you saw her, the thundering footfalls and heavy breathing of her horse loud against the quiet of the forest. You didn’t have time to fortify your position, didn’t even have time to go get more ammo. So you stood your ground and raised your rifle, heart pounding, when she burst through the tree line and into the clearing that you called home.

“Back the fuck up!” You yelled, gun raised. The horse all but skidded to a stop, the woman on its back clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest with one hand, yanking back on the reins with the other.

“Easy!” She said dropping the reins and putting her hand up. She still clung to the bundle. You recognized the horse. It was Perseus, it was Mark’s horse. “Are you Texas?”

“Who’s askin’?” Your accent was thick, fear a knot in your stomach as you looked Perseus over. You didn’t see any signs of injury.

She kept her hand up.

“You knew Mark?” She asked. She had an accent, too. Georgia southern, like Mark. “Brown hair, criminally long eyelashes?”

You narrowed your eyes at her and tightened your grip on your weapon.

“He knew you,” she kept going. “He… he told me all about you. Doubt he ever mentioned me but… he talked about you all the time. He loved you and I think you loved him, too.”

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat and tightness in your chest. She kept using past tense.

“What about him?” You asked, keeping your gun raised but your grip loosened.

“He sent me to find you. We need your help,” she said, reaching and tugging her pant leg up just enough to reveal a festering bite mark on her ankle. “And I don’t have much time.”

***

Early April, 2027

“I can’t believe you’ve been calling her a fucking baby deer this whole goddamn time!”

Ellie was perched on Shimmer’s stall door, watching as you and Joel set out blankets for the horses. It has been snowing all day and winds were picking up. You were worried a blizzard was moving in and you wanted help getting the horses set to ride out the storm if you couldn’t get to them for a day or two.

Joel was happy to assist, especially since he had come back from patrol a week earlier with a copy of Bambi on VHS. Ellie hadn’t been able to calm down about it since and it reminded him of the giddiness she had when she started in on the puns the first time, almost four years ago now. He’d have done anything to get that back and, it turned out, all it took was an old Disney movie and a funny nickname.

“Thank you,” you laughed, almost smug. “Don’t talk for a few minutes and get saddled with the name of a cartoon deer for life…”

“Hey, needed somethin’ to call you and you try coming up with anything else after lookin’ at you with those big eyes,” Joel said, defensive but smiling. “Not my fault it stuck.”

“Yeah well Bambi here was gonna kick your ass the first time we met,” she replied. “Big bad contractor was gonna get beat up by a fucking cartoon deer from a kid’s movie…”

Joel tried to keep from laughing and raised his eyebrows at you.

“OK that’s an exaggeration,” you said. “All I was going to do…”

“I asked if you were going to try to kick his ass,” Ellie cut you off. “And you said ‘no try about it, I was gonna kick his ass.’”

“And what did I do to deserve that?” Joel asked, teasing.

“Well, Ellie tried to warn me about you…” You began, but Ellie cut you off.

“Should have listened….”

You glared at her.

“But she wasn’t very clear,” you said. “And if some grown man was messing around with a girl, I was going to kick his ass. Turns out I didn’t have a reason to.”

Joel laughed.

“Glad you spared me.”

You laughed before planting your hands on your hips, looking around the stable for a moment, taking stock.

“Think things are just about as good as they’re gonna get,” you sighed. “But I think they should be good for a day until we can dig out and get back over here. Just wait for them to finish dinner, put more feed in after…”

“Think there’s any chance of the patrols making it back tonight?” Ellie asked, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Probably not,” Joel said. “They got places to ride out shit like storms if they get stuck, they’ll be alright.”

“Still,” you said. “Had a group that was due back tonight, Jackson was probably the closest point to ride it out. Think I’ll hang out for a bit yet…”

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Joel said. “We’ll wait with you, head home after, settle in to ride out the storm.”

“Can we stay at Bambi’s?” Ellie asked. “She’s got a way better stereo.”

You smiled.

“Sure, kid,” you said. “On you to get Joel to dance party, though.”

“Dance party?” He frowned.

“You wouldn’t get it, Old Man,” she replied, the hint of a smirk on her face.

“Don’t get a lot of things about you, Baby Girl,” he said before stretching his back a bit. “Alright, back in a few. Try not to find too much trouble while I’m gone.”

You and Ellie both rolled your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way through the few inches of snow that had already fallen, heading for the mess hall.

One of Joel’s favorite parts of being back on good terms with Ellie was getting to see your relationship with her. Even before she was mad at him, he wanted her to have someone like you in her life. Another woman she could talk to, look up to, guide her in ways he didn’t fully understand. She needed that and he hadn’t been able to see it happening from the distance she was holding him at before.

He knew the two of you were close, he just hadn’t realized how close until the last few months. The two of you felt more like family than Sarah’s mother ever had and he treasured it, treasured that you seemed to love his daughter almost as much as he did.

The mess hall was getting ready for a storm, too, putting together baskets of food to send home with Jackson residents so people wouldn’t be struggling through the storm for their meals over the next few days. He gathered enough to last the three of you for a bit plus some sandwiches for tonight before he started back toward the stables, the wind more forceful and biting than when he’d left just half an hour earlier.

As he got closer, he noticed tracks in the snow, hoof prints leading to the stables. A patrol had made it back and, for half a moment, he was a little disappointed. If the storm wasn’t as bad as they were expecting and the patrol was able to make it back to Jackson without losing much time, he might not get to spend the day with you and Ellie tomorrow. Ever since the storm started moving in that afternoon he’d been excited for the chance to have some unexpected time just the three of you - almost like playing hooky but with permission.

But he knew he should just be happy the patrol made it home through the weather, hopefully with all the people intact. Which, he was. But damn if he didn’t love an excuse to spend time with you.

He opened the door to the stable and quickly moved shut it behind him, expecting to find you taking saddles off horses. Instead, you damn near slammed into him, your eyes wide, not saying a word as you shoved the door open and took off into the snow.

“Bambi?” He called after you. You didn’t even slow down. He jogged over to Ellie’s perch and set the food down, a tightness starting to grip his chest.

“No idea,” Ellie said, not waiting for him to ask. “Patrol came back, said something about some people they found outside… She just said ‘savvy’ and took the fuck off.”

Joel looked around for a second. Julie was standing next to her horse, a confused look on her face.

“You found people outside?” Joel asked.

“Yeah,” she said, still staring at where you’d run out. “Yeah, a group of five. We brought them back…”

“Where are they?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm.

“The clinic…”

“Ellie,” he said quickly. “Stay put here, alright? I’m gone more than half an hour, head on home. Mine or hers, don’t want you in that little place for this storm, OK Baby Girl?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, not giving him shit. She looked concerned, too. “Yeah, OK.”

He gave her a stiff nod and went out into the building storm, following your footprints to the clinic.

Joel heard you there before he saw you, your voice pleading and desperate as he shut the wind and snow outside.

“Anything,” you were begging. “Anything at all, a name, an age, hair color, anything, please…”

“I’m sorry,” a man whose voice Joel didn’t recognize said. “She did say much before she died, just that there was a girl…”

Joel found you then, in the same room he’d been in when he’d come in from patrol with a bullet in his leg.

“Where?” You asked. “Where’d you find her? Did she say where she escaped from, how far she’d come?”

“We picked them up about 15 miles north east of here,” Fred, one of the men on patrol, said. “Just south of Kelly.”

“Think she came from a camp ground near there,” the other man said. He was skinny, a patch of frostbite on his nose. “Said something about cabins…”

“Right,” you nodded. “Right, thank you.”

You turned and ran smack into Joel’s chest. You barely seemed to register it, hardly even glancing at him before ducking around him and running out the door again.

“She was asking about a girl,” Fred said quickly. “These folks here, had a woman with them before we found them. Said she escaped raiders, that the raiders had a teenaged girl…”

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath before looking at the other man. “Thanks, Fred.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just ducking back into the snow, the wind starting to howl now, running to catch up with you.

You were on your porch by the time he reached you. You didn’t even seem to be aware that he was following you, you were too focused on something else entirely. You didn’t even bother to take your boots off when you got in the house, just ripping the coat closet inside your door open and pulling out your patrol materials as Joel let himself in.

“Bambi,” he said gently. You looked up at him for a moment, like you were surprised to find him there before you focused back on your pack, shoving in blankets and flashlights. “Come on, honey…”

“They’ve got her, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him before you grabbed your bag and half walked, half ran to your kitchen. “Can’t just leave her out there with them, I…”

“There’s a snowstorm, Sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not safe…”

“Doesn’t matter,” you started stuffing food in your bag, no rhyme or reason to it that Joel could see.

“Yes, it does,” he said, trying to take the pack from you. You yanked it back, a vicious look in your eyes before you ducked around him. “Baby.”

“I’m not leaving her to those… those…” your voice cracked. “Those fucking monsters, I’m not, I can’t just leave her, I can’t just abandon her, I…”

“You getting yourself killed won’t help anybody.” It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from his voice. He’d never seen you quite like this. Close to it when out on patrol and there were signs that raiders were near, signs of their violence, but he’d always been able to pull you back from the edge. He wasn’t sure he could this time. “Bambi, you can’t…”

“Yes, I can.”

You moved around him and he followed.

“I know you want to help people,” he said. “But you can’t help anyone if you get yourself killed. I know you want to save everyone from going through what you went through…”

“That’s not what this is,” you said, turning in circles like you were looking for something but you couldn’t place it.

“Then what is it?” He caught you by the shoulders and looked at you, your eyes wide and panicky. “Tell me, help me understand. When the weather clears, I can go with you and…”

“It’ll be too late then,” you shook your head, tears starting to swell. “As soon as the snow stops they’re going to leave and it’ll be too late, I’ll never catch them and they’ll still have her and I can’t lose her again, Joel, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t do this again, please, don’t ask me to do this again I…”

“Do what?” He asked, pleading, his grip on you firm. “Let me help you, Baby, please, tell me what’s going on. Who…”

“My daughter!” You said quickly. Joel froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I have a daughter, I have a daughter and if it’s her I… I can’t lose her again, I can’t. I have to go get her…”

“You…” he breathed.

“My daughter,” you said, eyes wide. “Please, Joel. I think they have my daughter.”

***

Early May, 2013

You lowered your rifle enough that it was no longer an immediate threat and she relaxed a little, letting the pant leg fall over her ankle again. There was a small cry from the bundle in her arms and you frowned, looking between her and it. She carefully lowered it from her chest, looking down to it.

“Hey, you’re OK sweet girl,” she said gently. “It’s alright…”

The bundle fussed but didn’t cry again and she looked back to you.

“Can I get down?” She asked. “Got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. Figure I’ve got an hour left. Two, tops.”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, OK. Let’s talk.”

You didn’t invite her in, not wanting to deal with the potential hazard of her turning into one of those inhuman things in your house. She didn’t seem to mind.

Her name, she said, was Laurel. She was about your age, you guessed, with her dark hair in two thick braids, deep brown eyes and rich umber skin.

“This is Savannah,” she said, tilting the bundle so you could see inside. “She’s nine months old…”

You looked at her, awed for a moment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a baby and you resisted the urge to reach out and run your finger over her chubby, impossibly soft looking cheek. She blinked at you, her brown eyes oddly keen and exacting for a baby, her lashes almost obscenely long. You frowned, leaning in to look closer at her. You knew those impossibly soft, brown eyes set in her lovely russet-hued face.

“She’s Mark’s,” you said softly, looking up at Laurel. “She’s Mark’s, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is.”

“I…” your voice broke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had someone, I wouldn’t have…”

“It wasn’t like that,” she cut you off. “My husband died about three years ago. He got hurt, it got infected… Not even the fucking apocalypse kind, just the kind that you can clear up with penicillin if you can find the damn stuff. Mark… we were both lonely, looking for something to make it better for a while. It just kind of happened. She just kind of happened.”

The baby cooed, stretching and reaching for you.

“Where is he?” You asked, looking back at Laurel. “What happened to him?”

“Our settlement got overrun,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “They came out of nowhere and just… He tried. He tried so, so hard, you should know that he tried. But he got bit, on the neck, trying to protect us and… He told me where to find you. That’s what he did with the last few minutes of his life, he told me where to find you, he told me that you’d take care of us, make sure we survived. He told me to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted to come back to you…”

You found yourself nodding, tears on your cheeks as you looked into the eyes of the man you loved in his child’s face.

“He died before I got bit,” she said. “He died thinking we had a shot. I kept her safe, though. She was safe…”

“You did good,” you said, throat tight. “You really did…”

“I need your help,” she said before taking a deep breath.

“Course,” you nodded, tearing your eyes away from Mark’s daughter to look at her. “What…”

“I need you to take Savannah.”

You just blinked at her for a moment. “I…” you broke off, shaking your head. “What? I… no, no, I’m not who you want, I don’t…”

“I don’t have a lot of options,” she said. “I don’t have time to find another person let alone someone I know I can trust. And I know I can trust you with her. Mark loved you and you loved him, you won’t let anything happen to his child.”

“But I…” you looked back at the baby in her arms. “I don’t know anything about kids, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t…”

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wanted you to take care of her. I think… I think part of him knew it would just be her. That’s why he sent me here, to you. He wanted it to be you. He trusted you and he loved you, he wanted her to be with you. Please, I’ll beg if I have to, just please take care of her. Please.”

You looked at the baby in her arms, at Mark’s eyes with the impossibly long lashes.

“OK.”

Laurel held her daughter while she told you everything. You paused her to take some notes when you thought of it, things like a recipe for formula when she refused solids and what to do when she started crying but wouldn’t stop. She told you how much her daughter loved to gnaw on bits of apple and loved to bounce in time to her father’s humming and her birthday - July 20.

She started twitching more in what felt like no time at all, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead.

“You’ll be OK sweet girl,” she whispered to her. “You’ll be OK. Mama loves you, OK? Try to remember that for me, OK?” She looked up at you. “Will… will you tell her about me? About Mark?”

You nodded, the pinch of tears tight in your throat.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll make sure she knows everything you did for her. She’ll know about you.”

She nodded, passing you her child. Your child.

“I’d like to do it myself,” she said, nodding to the gun at your hip. “If that’s OK.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting Savannah in your arms and handing Laurel the gun. She took it and walked backwards away from you, her eyes on her daughter. Your daughter.

“I’ll close my eyes just before,” she said once she was about 20 feet away, still looking at her baby. “Can you cover hers for me? I want to look at her as long as I can but I don’t want her to see…”

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “I can do that.”

“Thank you,” she smiled tightly, actually looking at you this time. “I… I know this isn’t what you planned but… It’s easier, knowing she has someone.”

“I’ll take care of her,” you said. “I’ll love her. I’ll take care of her.”

Laurel just nodded and looked back at her child, watching her for a moment, the gun in her shaky hand.

“Mama loves you,” she said softly, raising the gun to her temple and closing her eyes. You quickly pressed Savannah’s face into your chest and held her close.

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, the longest second of your life, before there was the crack of the gun and the sharp cry of the baby who was all you had left in the world.

August 2018

“You have learn this, Savvy.”

“I don’t want to shoot them, Mama,” your daughter looked over at you from her spot on the downed tree, looking at the infected more than 100 feet away through a scope.

“These are the easiest things you’ll ever have to shoot,” you said gently. “It’s nice to shoot them, you’re making it so they’re not hurting anymore…”

“But they’re people.”

Her eyes - her father’s eyes - were so wide. The springs of her curls were bundled back away from her face, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

“I know they look like people,” you ran your hand over the crown of her small head. “But they’re not, not anymore. They’re things that are hurting and the only way to help them is to shoot them. And shooting them keeps you and me safe. Now, you can do this. Do it just like you do at home with the targets.”

She looked at you, her big eyes watery, before obeying and turning back toward the gun. You watched as she lined up her shot and took a deep breath, exhaling before firing.

Her shot went a little wide, catching the infected on the arm. It whipped its head around and shrieked before running for you.

“Mama!”

“It’s alright,” you said, looking down your own rifle for a moment before firing and hitting it in the head. It dropped like a stone. “See? All OK. This is why we learn.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was thick and trembling and you looked over at her, tears streaming down her face. “I tried hard, I promise…” she hiccuped and gulped in air and you set your rifle down and sat up before pulling her against you.

“You did so good,” you kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry, Honey, you did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t kill them,” she pulled her face from your chest, her lower lip quivering. “I did it wrong and…”

“You’ll get better,” you said gently. “No one is perfect when they’re learning. This is just to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll always protect you but it’s good for you to know how to protect yourself, too. This is just in case, OK?”

She nodded against you and you held her until she stopped crying. When she calmed, you ran your thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her small forehead, wishing you didn’t have to teach her these things. If you could just shelter her away from the world - from infected, from the people who has found power because of the infected - then it would all be OK. She wouldn’t need to know how to kill. It could be just you and her, growing things and raising horses and reading by the fire, until the end of time.

But the world, you knew, was not so kind.

“Want to go pick out some books?” You asked gently. She nodded and the two of you got up and you took her hand, leading her to the library.

In the more than five years you’d had Savvy, she had become your entire world. Everything you did, you did for her. To keep her safe, to make her happy, to teach her. You’d known nothing about children when Laurel brought her to you. The first night, you’d held her close while you both cried and you prayed to a god you’d never been sure existed that you would do right by her.

Loving her came easy. Living for her was harder.

But you fell into it eventually, guiding her through the world as it was now as best you could. If you found a family near your territory, you’d watch them from afar and, once you knew it was safe, bring Savvy to introduce her, give her a chance to know someone besides yourself. You taught her how to read, how to count, how to skin a rabbit. You had no idea if it was the right thing but you hoped it would be enough that, when she was older, she would survive if something happened to you. That’s all that mattered, that she would be OK.

“Mama?” She asked, setting her picture book on her legs as you browsed the shelves for more books on home schooling and small scale farming.

“Yes baby?”

“What else would I need to shoot?”

You frowned and looked down at her, your hand on the spine of a book.

“What?”

“Well, you said that the not people are the easiest things I would have to shoot,” she said, face serious. “So… what else would I have to shoot?”

“I don’t think you’ll like shooting animals much,” you said and she crinkled her nose. “But you’ll probably have to at some point.”

“But I like animals,” she pouted.

You smiled.

“I know you do.”

“What else?” She asked, still peering up at you.

You sighed.

“Sometimes…” you turned your attention back to the books. “Sometimes you’ll have to shoot a person.”

Her wide eyes somehow grew wider, a look of horror on her face.

“But…” her little voice broke. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “But sometimes we have to.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you looked down to her. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.”

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You knelt, getting down on her level.

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.”

She considered that for a moment, her face very serious.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you.

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.”

Her eyes were wide and soft and deep and you wanted, more than anything, to keep her safe.

“But I’ll take care of you,” you said, stroking her soft skin with your thumb. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll take care of you.”

September 15, 2023

“Mom?”

You looked up from where you were working at skinning a rabbit. There was a glow in your front window, a hold over from when Savvy was even younger and you had to leave to go check on the horses before bed. She got scared one night when she woke up and found that you weren’t in the dark cabin. Ever since, you always left the electric lantern on when you left in the evenings, even though she said she didn’t need it anymore. It was just enough to work by as the sun got lower outside.

“Yeah?”

“What…” she paused, an odd look on her face. “What’s in Gattling’s mouth?”

The dog was hovering behind Savvy’s legs and you leaned around from your position on a tree stump, trying to get a look at her. You frowned, not able to make it out in the low light, and set the rabbit and your knife down, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your belt.

Gattling’s tail wagged as you approached, her head low and you squatted down to be on her level, angling her head toward the house so her muzzle wasn’t in shadow. Her snout was red with blood, something dangling from her jaws. You held your palm out flat.

“Gattling, release.”

She obediently dropped it in your hand with a sickening splat. It took you a moment to realize that it was a pinky finger.

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was shaky. You dropped the finger where you stood and heard the crack of a gunshot in the distance.

“We have to move.”

You grabbed her arm and pulled her in the house, Gattling trotting close behind.

“What’s happening?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. “Mom, what’s…”

“Get packed,” you said, grabbing a pack and thrusting at her before running to the dresser in the corner. You shrugged out of the shirt you were wearing and traded it for the one you’d worn when you fled the ranch 20 years earlier, not willing to leave Justin’s shirt behind. “Some clothes, first aid, batteries, flashlights, all three kinds of ammo, sleeping bag.”

You went to the kitchen and started grabbing things you’d already preserved. Jerky, dried fruit, some seeds. Most of the canteens in the house were full and you grabbed a few. You grabbed the pistol, the shot gun and the rifles. You set it all out on the table and looked over to your daughter who was obediently filling her pack.

“Leave room for this,” you said, taking your rifle from the pile. “Meet me by the horses as quick as you can. Turn out the lantern on your way.”

She just nodded. You sprinted for the cabin you’d turned into a stable. Nike was huffed at your arrival and you grabbed her tack and saddled her up as quickly as you could, making sure there was room to add basic supplies. Savvy ran into the pen just as you led Nike and Perseus into the middle of it.

“Long guns,” you held your hand out as you tightened down straps of the saddle. She handed you the shotgun first and you tucked it into a strap on the saddle. The rifle came next. You stepped back and looked at it for a moment.

“OK,” you said turning back to your daughter, looking her over. She’d gotten so tall, she was only a few inches shorter than you now, you didn’t even need to stoop to press a kiss to her forehead. “Want you to head north, understand?”

“What are you talking about?” She asked as you took her arm and guided her alongside the horse. “Mom, you’re coming with me, I’ll just follow you, I’ll just…”

“I’ll get to you when I can,” you said. She shook her head, her eyes wide.

“No,” she grabbed your arms. “No, you can’t, you can’t just leave me, you can’t…”

“I’m not leaving you,” you held her face in your hands, looked into her eyes. She had her father’s eyes. “I’m not, OK? I will find you. I will always find you, sweet girl, I will always protect you. That’s what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to buy you time. Cut north, stick to the woods, off the trails. You know things here. Go out of the way, work your way around the long way to the library. Meet me there in three days, it should be safe…”

“Three days?” She gaped at you. “No, I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you said, firm enough that you believed it, too. “Yes you can. I’ve taught you everything I know, you can make it. It’s just three days, you’ll be OK. You’re so strong and you’re so smart, you’re going to be OK. I will always find you. I will always protect you, I will always keep you safe. I promise.”

You pulled her tight to you and kissed her temple.

“I love you,” you breathed, pulling back to look at her face. “More than anything, I love you. I’ll see you soon, OK? Ride through the night, switch horses at dawn and keep riding until tomorrow night. You can do this.”

“I can do this,” she repeated. “I can do this.”

You looked to the dog at your feet, her tail wagging and her muzzle bloody.

“Gattling,” you said. Her ears perked up. “Savvy.”

She immediately went to your daughter’s side, ready to protect her.

You boosted Savvy onto the horse, taking a final look at her.

“Just three days, right Mom?”

You swallowed, hard, before nodding.

“Just three days. Be safe. Be smart. I’ll see you soon.”

You didn’t have the luxury of watching her ride away. The second her, Nike and Perseus were clear of the paddock, you ran to saddle up Hercules.

You needed to buy her time.

October 13, 2023

You were still paying for your escape.

It was hard to keep track of time. You were with Mitchum and his crew about two weeks the first time. That’s what it felt like, anyway. You were pretty sure it had been about half as long since they got you back. It was hard to tell. You were so panicked, in so much pain that time stretched and expanded and every hour that passed was an hour that you were separated from your daughter and you needed to get to her, you had to. She was just 11 years old and the world was not kind to girls. You’d taught her everything you knew but you had to get back to her, you didn’t want her to have to hurt and kill.

When you’d escaped, you’d done nothing but search for her. You went to the library, tried to track where you thought she’d have come from but it had been weeks. There was no trail left to follow. You were about to return to your cabin to check there when Mitchum’s men found you again. You still had no idea where Savvy was.

You’d promised to take care of her. You’d promised her, you’d promised the woman who had given her to you a decade earlier. You’d promised.

You had to get back to her.

They’d chained you to a wall this time but you thought you might be able to pull the bolt out of the wood if you worked at it diligently enough. You pried at it until your nails were bloody and you kept going. You were covered in blood already, anyway. It was sticky on your skin where it had flowed from the cut on your head where your face had been slammed into the floor as one of Mitchum’s men had taken you from behind while you were on your knees. It had been a steady drip from inside of you since the first time Mitchum forced himself on you when you were brought back, whatever injury there was not given time to heal. The raiders seemed to like it when you bled on them. It even coated part of your arm where one man had cut you when trying to control you, not happy with your lack of compliance as he hurt you. A little more as you tried to pry yourself free wasn’t going to draw attention.

The door slammed into the wall without warning and you jumped, shocking back from the wall. The man standing there smirked, stalking over to you.

“Getting ideas are we?” He sneered. He didn’t wait for a response. “Thought you’d have learned your fuckin’ lesson last time…”

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff that held you before pulling you roughly to your feet. He didn’t give you any clothes, he just pulled you, naked, out to the circle of men around a campfire. Your heart sped up, tried to count them. You weren’t sure you could survive being at the mercy of the more than two dozen who were here, not at one time. He threw you into the dirt and you caught yourself on your hands and knees.

“Here’s my favorite little bitch,” Mitchum stalked forward. You sat back on your heels and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to protect what you could. “How have you liked being back home? We keepin’ you entertained?”

A few of the men laughed. You swallowed and peered around, hoping for something you could take advantage of, just one open space, one unguarded moment and you could escape. For good this time. You could do that, you could escape and figure out where you were and then find Savvy.

“Figured out what you were hidin’ back in that homestead of yours,” Mitchum said, a smirk on his voice. You looked at him, eyes wide. Your stomach dropped and he laughed. “Didn’t think you’d like that. Can see why you were workin’ so hard now, she sure was a pretty little thing.”

“Fuck you,” you spat.

He laughed.

“That can be arranged,” he said. “Fucked that girl of yours, too. Broke her in real good…”

You were on your feet before you fully realized what you were doing, running for him. You grabbed at his face, snarling and grasping as you sank your bloody nails into his skin. You dug deep and he punched you in the stomach as one of his men pulled you back, forcing you to the ground.

“I’ll kill you!” You shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

He stalked forward and punched you across the face before grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. You felt blood on your teeth and you wished it was his. You wanted to rip his throat out like an animal, wanted to claw and bite at him until he succumbed.

“I wanted to keep the both of you,” he said, holding your hair tight in his fist, fingers against your scalp. “Figured you’d be a lot more fun with her life on the line. Too bad she couldn’t take it.”

The world tilted on its axis. You hadn’t eaten in days but you still felt like you were going to be sick, like everything inside of you, the blood and the viscera that made you a living being, was going to come up.

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “Should’ve probably been more careful with her but it was just so much fun to hear her beg for her mama…”

“You’re a liar,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “A fucking liar!”

He kept his eyes on you and he whistled before forcing you to look at the fire. Two men stepped forward, each carrying burlap sacks. One was much larger than the other.

“Show ‘er.”

The first man, the one with the large bag, turned it over. A horse head fell out of the sack, landing on the dirt with a wet thud. It took you a second to recognize her, separate from her body, but it was Nike. You screamed, the sound clawing its way up from your chest and you instinctively reached for her only to have Mitchum rip you back by your hair.

“Wanna see what’s in the other bag?” He pressed his mouth against your ear as you sobbed. “Decided to keep her head, thought I should pass it around, see if it’s as good cold…”

You strained in his hold, trying to shake your head. You couldn’t get yourself to form words. There was the distinct feeling that someone was cracking you open, prying apart your chest and pulling your organs out one by one. They didn’t belong to you anymore. You weren’t sure they ever really had, they were hers and she was gone.

You couldn’t see her like that, see just her head, like she had only ever been parts and pieces to begin with.

“Please,” you managed through the gasping, racking sobs. “Please, please, no, I’ll do whatever you want, whatever…”

Mitchum smiled.

“Good.”

The pain of the brand barely registered in your mind, even as your body jerked with it. Everything seemed dulled and numbed. Time slowed and stretched and, for a while, the only thing that your body seemed to have space for was the agonizing pain of losing something you were never built to lose.

It was a year before there was room for anything else.

Early April, 2027

“Bambi…”

“Move, Joel.”

You shoved past him. You’d need a sleeping bag, two sleeping bags, actually. An extra pair of boots, she probably didn’t have those. She’d have out grown the last ones she had, she would be 14 now, she’d be even taller, have bigger feet, longer legs. They didn’t give you clothes when you were with them, you doubted it was different for her.

First aid, that you’d need.

“You can’t do this, Baby,” he was following close behind you.

“Yes, I can.”

“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” there was a strain in his voice. “Who knows what you’ll be walking into out there, how many there’ll be, how armed they’ll fuckin’ be, what they’ll do to you if they get your hands on you…”

“I have to try.”

You didn’t have a gun here. You’d have to get one, you were pretty sure Maria would give you one if you told her why you needed it.

“Just…” Joel sounded desperate. “Just wait, until after the storm, just wait, I’ll go with you, we’ll look, we’ll…”

“It’ll be too late,” you shook your head. “Someone got out, as soon as the weather clears they’re gonna move and we’ll lose them, it has to be now.”

“Have you seen how shit’s pickin’ up out there?” He came around in front of you, taking you by the shoulders. “Baby, the wind is gonna knock you off your damn horse, you can’t help her if you’re dead, please, I’m begging you, please…”

“What would you do?” You asked. “If it was Sarah, if it was Ellie. Would you sit here and wait? Or would you go get her?”

He froze, looking at you.

Your knife. You’d need your knife. You went to get it but Joel stopped you, his hand on your elbow.

“Bambi,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that it’s her.”

“It could be,” you said. “Joel…”

“It’s been years,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s been years, there’s… I’m so sorry but she’s… They wouldn’t have let her live this long, she couldn’t have survived this long, she’s gone, I’m so sorry…”

You shook your head. You had that feeling again, like the one you had that day around the fire when Mitchum had told you he’d killed her, the feeling that your whole self was being ripped apart.

But you’d never seen that she was gone. You never held her body, never saw the life leave her eyes. You didn’t know that she was gone. She could be alive. She could.

“You don’t know that,” you said, your voice thick. “You don’t…”

“You barley survived,” he said softly. “You, the strongest fucking person I know and you damn near died. A teenager couldn’t have survived that, Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and…”

“No,” you snapped, swallowing back your tears. “You don’t know, you don’t know them like I do…”

“I do,” he cut you off. “Sweetheart, I am begging you, stay here. Please. Don’t get yourself killed, if it’s her we will find her as soon as it’s safe…”

“You don’t know!” You pushed him back. He was costing you time, time you didn’t have. Savvy was out there, she was out there alone and afraid and you were going to find her. “Let me go, Joel. I know them, you don’t understand them, you can’t understand them…”

“I understand them because I used to be one of them!”

You froze. He was watching you, his eyes wide and desperate as he panted for breath. Your heart was pounding, there was a high pitched whine in your ears, something like a siren or when you first came to Jackson and could hear the electricity in the walls.

“What?” You whispered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to you, of his hand on you. You could feel the outline of his fingers, each individual callus distinct against your skin.

“I used to be one,” he said softly. “A… a raider, I used to be one. It was a long time ago but I know how they think, I know how they operate and… I’m sorry but if they’ve had her for three and a half years? She’s gone, Sweetheart. There’s nothing left for you to save…”

You thought Joel was still talking but you couldn’t hear him. It was like you’d just jumped into deep water, the cold of it shocking and painful and the rush of it drowning out everything you knew. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, could barely see.

Joel. Your Joel, the person you trusted more than any other, was a raider. He was like them, like the men who had torn you away from your daughter, who had raped you, who had tortured you, who now might be doing the same to your child right now and Joel knew them because he was like them because he had done those things, too.

“Don’t touch me.”

You were suddenly in your body again, out of that deep dark water and back in your house. Joel’s hands were on you and it was like they were on fire, you could feel it through your skin into your muscle, your bone, down into the marrow of you it hurt where his hands were on you.

“Baby,” he said gently and you forced yourself to look at his face. You couldn’t breathe. You’d kissed him, told him things you’d never told anyone, all but begged him to touch you and he was just like them.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed it and he ripped his hands away like you’d burned him. You could breathe again and gulped in air, reaching for the back of your couch. You needed something to keep you standing, you felt like you were going to collapse or throw up. Joel’s hands were up, like he was waiting to catch you if you fell. “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!”

“You’re OK,” he said, keeping his hands off of you but stepping closer. “I’ve got you, you’re OK…”

“Get away from me!” You backed away from him, looking for the best way out of here. You had to get away from him, he wasn’t safe, he was just like them and you had to get away from him, you couldn’t be anywhere near him. “Get away!”

You said it again and again and again and you kept backing away from him until you were pressed against the wall. Joel stayed where he was and, when you were able to look at him again, it looked like he was in pain.

“I’m away,” he said softly, his hands up. “Not gonna touch you, Sweetheart…”

“Don’t call me that,” you were sobbing and you weren’t sure when you’d started.

“What?” He whispered.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You bit out, staying back against the wall. He was so big, he could overpower you, he could hurt you, it would be easy for him. “Don’t call me that, not when you’re like them, you’re just like them, I trusted you and you’re just like them…”

“No,” he shook his head, voice thick. He closed the gap between you quickly and you shocked back from him but he didn’t seem to notice, taking you in his arms and clutching onto you. But his touch made your skin crawl, everywhere his body was against your own screaming in panic. “No, not like that, I never… I never did what they did to you, Sweetheart, please, you have to believe me, I never did that, never. I just…”

“I trusted you!” You sobbed, your legs collapsing from beneath you. Joel clung to you, keeping you from falling to the floor, but you hated his hands on you, suddenly feeling like hands you’d hated so much. You twisted and fought to get away but he just held onto you. “I trusted you, you made me love you, I let you inside of me and you’re like them, you’re just like them…”

“I’m sorry, Baby,” his voice was thick and wet. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back, wish I could change it…”

You managed to firmly plant your feet on the ground and you shoved against his broad, firm chest, desperate for distance from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

He let you go and you scrambled back from him, fighting to breathe. He was looking at you, tears in his eyes.

“Baby, please,” he whispered. “Please just… let me take care of you, I understand what…”

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” your voice shook.

“Bambi…”

“Get out,” you managed.

He said your name. Your real name.

“Get out!” You screamed, so loud and harsh you felt it ripping out of you. “Get out of here, get away from me, get out!”

“I’ll go!” He kept his hands up. “Just gotta promise me…”

“I don’t gotta do shit for you,” you shook your head.

“Promise me you won’t do anything that will get you hurt,” he said softly, He was crying, too. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want just promise….”

“I won’t, now get out!” You yelled. “Get out, get away from me!”

“I’m going,” he said quickly. “Please… Please, be safe, please.”

You watched as he made his way to your door but he stopped and looked back at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For… for all of it, I’m so sorry.”

He closed the door behind him and you collapsed to the ground and sobbed, clutching onto yourself like it was going to keep your body intact but it still felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces and there would be no one to help put you together again.

You weren’t sure how long you were there on the floor but, eventually, you were able to make yourself move again.

You thought of Savvy, of your daughter, of where she might be, of how you’d promised to keep her safe. You got up off the floor, body numb, and grabbed your pack before going out into the snow.

Next Chapter

A/N: Alright, yell at me. I'm ready for it.

There's a lot in this chapter, I know. It's long, it's rough, it's been coming for a while. We first got a hint of Savvy in chapter 4 when Bambi thought about Joel's possible relationship to Ellie and she's been hinted at regularly since. She's why Bambi knew to use ginger to help William's teething, she's why Bambi was specifically grateful to have another adult around when Marisa showed up, she's why Bambi keeps searching every time there's even a hint of raider activity.

And after everything she's been through, she can't just blindly accept Joel's past, that's way WAY too much for anyone who's survived what she has to bear.

I hope this didn't come completely out of the blue and I hope you're still up for reading more of this story. I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I think it will be.

Thank you for being here. This is a story that I feel like deserves to be told, even the dark parts of it, and I'm so thankful you're along for the ride. Love you ❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

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sgiandubh · 1 year ago

Note

@outlanderskin :"For those who have doubts: just research a little about Caitríona's dating history. See how she treated Dave and James and how she talked about them in interviews. See how she wrote about the Irish boyfriend she had in Paris in that article. Compare all of this to the impersonal way she treats or talks about Tony. Bingo🙃"

Good point 👌

Dear Good Point Anon,

You know, it's really serendipitous, as I have just finished a weeklong deep dive in very, very old press articles on (or at least mentioning) S and C, who clearly had a life before OL, thinking it would be nice to put some of my archive work skills to good service.

I think @outlanderskin was referring to C's New York Times article I reviewed and analyzed last summer, but I just found way better: a very long report in the Irish Independent's Sunday issue of July 11, 2004, focused on the next generation of Irish supermodels. Of which there could be only one, at that time: C, who dominates Roxanne Parker's 'Through Thick and Thin".

I am sorry, there is no link available to my knowledge, so we'll have to work with these very poor xerox scans:

I took the liberty of generously using my dreaded highlighter and, for the people who need to translate this post with Google, I am now taking my time to type what I find damn interesting in this almost twenty-year old article:

'If Ireland ever has a hope of having its own supermodel, then Caitriona Balfe is it. Sitting in the Pink Pony Café on Ludlow Street in New York, Caitriona swirls a wad of bread into her carrot and coriander soup while informing me that her musician boyfriend just brought her a breakfast-in-bed of cream eclairs and coffee a little over an hour ago. But that doesn't stop Caitriona from finishing her lunch and chasing it with a large cocoa-dusted cappuccino. Ebony-tressed and ivory-skinned, Caitriona clip-clops down the cobbled street after we leave the cafe, heading towards her apartment in Chinatown with Dave Mailone (sic!), the boyfriend, in tow.'

This reads, in 2024, like an interview with a more benevolent C clone from a totally different planet, indeed. A young, carefree, in love and hysterically funny C, who apparently had no problem heavily dishing out happy tidbits of her private life to her home country's press. A C also very much reminiscing anyone with a brain of the 2013-2018 bantering C, as this quote shows:

Again, you'll have to indulge me retyping it, Anon (tedious, I know - but helpful). She is remembering her real breakthrough, in November 2002, at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, in New York:

That was the most I've ever been paid for a show. I've got 18,000 euros for one day's work! They made me get a spray tan before the show, and I was still the whitest and the least well-endowed girl in the entire show! So what did she have to wear on the big day? `Not a whole lot! I think I described my outfit on the day as something Wilma Flintstone would wear on her honeymoon night. There wasn't a whole lot to it and it had bits of fur hanging off it.'

And, for good measure, we even have a (admittedly, awful) picture with the season's fiancé, with whom things did not end well:

I know, it looks like a Pravda pic, circa 1957 and I am honestly sorry. But it's still very clear. And, which is more important, very eloquent.

Anon and reader, you draw your own conclusions on this. I know where I stand. The only guy C has similar pics taken with and released in the press or on social media is the peasant some love to bash every single day in here. Their problem, not mine.

Yes, of course Mordor will yell and hiss. Of course they will throw rotten tomatoes at the blunt knife and scream THIS IS OLD. But hey, do you have any better than this poor (but oh, so endearingly authentic) picture or than any given S&C pic before the fucking EFH and IFH, when she gradually started to turn into today's Reclusive, Restrained and Rarefied Greta Garbo wannabe?

Oh, and please: don't give me the 'he's shy' or the paperwork crap again. Her public persona has drastically changed, and not for the better. It's plain to see and there are reasons for this.

Who's to blame? This question is so wrong, in so many ways.

The question should be 'what's to blame?'

I'll stop here, Anon and I hope it was somewhat useful. Thank you for dropping by.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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mattnben-bennmatt · 6 months ago

Text

Matt & Ben || John & Paul

Here’s a story. Matt Damon told it. But it’s not about Matt Damon. It’s about Bono. But it’s not really about Bono, either; it’s about Paul McCartney. But Damon heard it from Bono. One day, Bono flew into Liverpool. Paul was supposed to pick him up at the airport, and Bono was shocked when Paul picked him up at the airport alone, behind the wheel of his car. “Would you like to go on a little tour?” Paul said. Sure, Bono said, because Bono, you see, is a fan of Paul’s, in the same way that Damon is a fan of Bono’s. “Bono’s obsessed with the Beatles,” Damon said at the table in the lobby of the gated hotel in the little town in Germany. “He’s, like, a student of the Beatles. He’s read every book on the Beatles. He’s seen every bit of film. There’s nothing he doesn’t know. So when Paul stops and says 'That’s where it happened,’ Bono’s like, 'That’s where what happened?’ because he thinks he knows everything. And Paul says, 'That’s where the Beatles started. That’s where John gave me half his chocolate bar.’ And now Bono’s like, 'What chocolate bar? I’ve never heard of any chocolate bar.’ And Paul says, 'John had a chocolate bar, and he shared it with me. And he didn’t give me some of his chocolate bar. He didn’t give me a square of his chocolate bar. He didn’t give me a quarter of his chocolate bar. He gave me half of his chocolate bar. And that’s why the Beatles started right there.’ Isn’t that fantastic? It’s the most important story about the Beatles, and it’s in none of the books! And Paul tells it to Bono. Because he knows how much Bono loves the Beatles.”

— Matt Damon, interviewed by Tom Junod for Esquire (August 2013).

Ben Affleck and I actually had a joint bank account, and the bank account was money that we’d made doing local commercials, and we could only use it on trips to New York to audition […] If one kid had enough for a candy bar, then the candy bar was bought and split in half — that’s just the way it’s been.

— Matt Damon, interviewed by Piers Morgan for CNN (March 2011).

First of all, I think I should say that we pale by comparison to The Beatles. But my understanding of how [Lennon and McCartney] worked was that they would go off and work separately. Matt and I worked together in the same room most of the time, riffing off of one another’s ideas for scenes or certain lines of dialogue.

— Ben Affleck, interviewed for eDrive (February/March 1998).

Q: But you didn’t compose your stuff separately, as other accounts have said? JOHN: No, no, no. I said that, but I was lying. [Laughs.] By the time I said that, we were so sick of this idea of writing and singing together, especially me, that I started this thing about, “We never wrote together, we were never in the same room.” Which wasn’t true. We wrote a lot of stuff together, one-on-one, eyeball to eyeball.

— John Lennon, interviewed by David Sheff for Playboy (September 1980).

[Ben and I] have been bizarrely close for a long time. You know, I was watching Get Back—the Peter Jackson documentary—and at the end of that you see the Beatles playing on the roof in London and it says, “This is the last time that they ever played together, live.” And it made me so sad to think of; because you look at them and they’re so happy! And Ben and I, I called him and said, “Look man, we were talking about doing this and it’s been 25 years or something since Good Will Hunting. What are we doing? We both kind of hit the lottery! Why aren’t we working together more often?” And after my dad passed in 2017—and Ben was very, very close with him—it’s like it changed something in us, I think. You start to see the end game and to feel like, “I want to make every second count.” I don’t want to fritter away time anymore.

— Matt Damon, interviewed by Chris Wallace for CNN (July 2023).

I needed to make this post because way before the Matt & Ben brainrot had the chance to set in, John & Paul had already taken complete hold of my being. And even if this hold has gentled in recent years, they nevertheless rewired my neural circuits. And thus, everything now inevitably leads back to Lennon/McCartney. One day I'll make a (probably very tinhatty) post highlighting specific parallels between Matt & Ben and John & Paul. Today is not that day.

For now, I merely wanted to marvel at how it's not only me who inevitably sees same-sex friendships and creative partnerships through the Lennon/McCartney goggles, but, being Lennon/McCartney arguably one of the most famous same-sex friendships and creative partnerships in history, they influence how other friends who are also creative partners—such as Matt and Ben—see themselves.

For example, the Chocolate Bar story. First of all, I can't believe I only realized yesterday that one of my favorite bits of Beatles lore—a story so special Paul hasn't told it anywhere else—was made public by Matt Damon (which is kind of ironic, given how private and protective he is over his own friendship with Ben). But then, it made me re-evaluate one of Matt's quotes. You see, I thought Matt saying "If one kid had enough for a candy bar, then the candy bar was bought and split in half" about him and Ben was one of those crazy coincidences I could see thanks to my Lennon/McCartney vision. Rather, Matt seems instead to be directly referencing the Chocolate Bar story, even if only a handful of people would understand the reference at the time. By drawing this comparison, a candy bar is no longer just a candy bar. It represents the founding principles of generosity and equity on which a great partnership can be built. Like John and Paul before them, Matt and Ben chose to tie their fates together and share what they had so they could make it.

And as soon as they made it, the world started comparing them to Lennon/McCartney, as we can see by Ben's quote. And it's interesting to think how the generalized perception of Lennon/McCartney at the time might have influenced how they felt about the comparison. Imagine you and your best friend/writing partner just achieved your wildest dreams. But that also means the eyes of the world are now turned on you, and your very real friendship is being used as a marketing ploy and starting to be ravenously consumed by the public. Now imagine that people start comparing you to The Beatles, and the very famous songwriting partnership at its core, Lennon/McCartney: two friends who rocketed to the toppermost-of-the-poppermost, but who broke up very acrimoniously in less than a decade. The Beatle-People will know that they deeply loved each other throughout it all, but that was not the prevailing narrative until a few years ago, when Get Back came out. So no wonder Ben's first instinct was to go "RIP to John and Paul but Matt and I are different."

And then, Get Back comes out and it makes them realize that they both are and are not different. They are not different in the sense that the pressure of fame did affect their relationship. Not to the extent of John and Paul's, whose private troubles were made public. Whatever conflicts Matt and Ben might have had throughout the years, they gracefully kept it private, which allowed their relationship to naturally heal without the press poking at the wounds. However, I do believe the intensity of the public gaze made them shy away from collaborating again. They mention working on numerous projects throughout the years (particularly after their Oscar win with Good Will Hunting), but none of these saw the light of day. And even though they say they were working so much they did not have time to write, it's odd that it took them over two decades to even co-star in another movie again. I think that, much like John and Paul in the 70s, the pressure placed on an eventual reunion was so great—both in terms of living up to their past success and of inviting all that scrutiny again—that Matt and Ben opted to remain private friends, at the sake of their creative partnership. Which makes total sense, because, like John and Paul, there's no partnership without the friendship. But this sacrifice is tragic in its own way, because the creative partnership was a big part of their friendship. Acting, writing, directing—creating—was what drew them together in the first place! It's like asking them to amputate one of the fundamental components of their relationship.

Which is why I find the last quote so incredibly moving. While watching Get Back, Matt was not only reminded of the joy of creating with his best friend—he was confronted with the preciousness of it. Because this is where Matt and Ben are most different from John and Paul: Matt and Ben have been granted the luxury of time. Unlike John and Paul, Matt and Ben could get to their 50s and realize, "What are we doing? We both kind of hit the lottery! Why aren’t we working together more often?" They could realize that they didn't give a fuck about what anyone said or thought anymore. That being together doing something they loved was more important. And so, unlike Paul, Matt got to hear his wife say that writing with Ben was the most she'd seen him laugh in many years. And Ben, unlike John, got to feel that total happiness was seeing his children every day and working with his best friend, and that there's nothing more that he wants in life. In fact, working together on Air made them feel so profoundly accomplished and realized, that both Ben and Matt thought they were about to die, since they'd apparently reached the "mountain top".

And so, it is with great joy that I await what lies in store for Ben and Matt. They have just created their own studio, Artists Equity, and are slated to collaborate in some of its future projects. Nothing will ever replace John and Paul in my heart, and their love story is ongoing in its own way; oh, but how wonderful is it to be able to witness a creative partnership and friendship whose future is still ripe with possibility! And how poetic that the tragedy of John and Paul's story played a part in ensuring that?

#matt damon #ben affleck #john lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles #lennon/mccartney #mclennon #matt & ben #(this is the culmination of a month-long obsession)#(even if I'm speaking all of this into the void I just needed to speak it)#(but please can anyone join me in obsessing over these four)#quote #compilation #analysis #originals

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