#eras attendees

[midnightshaze13]

I must say something because since I attended the Eras shows I feel this and I need to say it.

I've been a fan since crazier came out and she appeared on the cover of a disney magazine that my mom got me because I liked the song and wanted to know more about her, around 2010. Since then, I've always respected her and her work and came more and more in love with her writing and music. That hasn't changed a bit. But these family that we used to be has changed now a lot.

Lately, I've seen on social media and at the shows of the eras that many people who attended recognized to have had hated on her in the past, but they now "adore her". Something about this feels wrong to me.

Literally, "the old taylor is dead" was made to win over the general public. She had to metaphorically kill all her previous versions that people didn't trust or tolerated; these versions of herself with which she managed to make her name in the music industry AND those are the same ones they all rejected and now they sing with their mouth full.

She was FORCED to get the approval of people like these who pointed and criticized every little nonsense*¹ about her in order to be able to do what she does now: succeed, fill stadiums with thousands of people and create a legacy which will be in the Music History books.

What I want to get at is that Taylor Swift, in order to continue growing in the industry, has had to overcome and prove wrong all of them who were at hater position 2, 3, 10 years ago.

In order to be valued and respected for her job which is creating music, and for her is specially writing her own songs, she was forced to learn how to dance "better" to beat the "she doesn't know how to dance" allegations; she had to change her dressing style and many other things like that to be what people wanted her to be so she could have the recognition she deserved previously and all.

To this day I think many don't like Taylor Swift for what she is and has been. Many people attending the Eras are people loving the results of her growing into someone "different" to earn that respect and admiration. And most of those love that performance of a (now considered) cool girl on stage that she puts on every night on the Eras more than her for what she is and more than the music.

But to all those I must say, she's on the bleachers. That's how it was and that’s the narrative most of them rejected her for. It's not okay to me that they claim to love her now that she's cheer captain, as if they never said a bad word about her.

If these people would have known taylor swift at that age when she wrote those and wasn't "cool" they may have bullied her for the same things they claim to love her for now.

These are the same people who have bullied me and my other Swift's fans friends for decades just for us liking taylor's music. I had to battle and fight for tickets & a seat at The Eras Tour against people who used to bully me at school for liking her music.

In her own words: maybe you've reframed it and in your mind you never beat my spirit black and blue. But I don't think you've changed much.

I welcome those who discover her recently with open arms. But to the "haters to fans" that "now I can see how good she is" no thanks.

I've been here through a lot watching from a distance (tumblr, youtube) and I always dreamed about going to a Taylor Swift's show. I watched the videos of the speak now world tour when my parents wouldn't let me go because I was 13 years old. I watched the Red Tour while experiencing my first romantic heartbreak and the 1989 world tour when I was 16 and decided to not have boyfriends for a long period of my life. When I started uni and had the clean speech tied to my folder binder to see it every day, these people looked at me like if I was GREEN. And then at the Uni I watched the reputation stadium tour every late night before falling asleep wondering what it must felt like to be a part of it and I grew more into the desire of traveling to a show but couldn't afford it back then. The Eras Show was amazing, it absolutely blew all of my expectations, it truly is my once in a lifetime experience that I'm so grateful for. To have been able to experience all the past eras that I dreamed of in my past.

It feels wrong to see every person who once bullied me for dreaming about it out loud back in the day standing there making their own of the lyrics that for so many time were mine to scape real life and dream.

*¹nonsense: there was this time when every day we had a battle on twitter and other social media of people attacking taylor for the absurd fact that she was blonde, rich and famous and also thin. It was like that back then, they didn't had anything else to attack her for.

[leftneb]

okay final thoughts on the collision because I've had time to think it over properly now

TLDR;

the contact itself was caused by max

they both had to be driving aggressively (=racing) for it to happen

stirring personal drama and/or refusing to admit to fault is ridiculous (and I'm including the media in this)

I. max moves off the racing line to block lando from taking the inside line

this move makes sense, max is trying to prevent an overtake

it also means that he's left the racing line open

II. lando takes the outside line in turn

it's important to consider WHY he does this here, lando at this point has 2 options

option 1 -> follow behind max on the inside this option makes no sense, no sensible racing driver would willingly file behind their opponent, that would be handing max the lead here, lando isn't about to roll over

option 2 -> stay on the outside with this he wouldn't neccessarily be able to overtake max, but he can keep the pace

natually lando went with the 2nd option. from then on (if max had kept the inside line, which was a sensible assumption to make considering their positions) I can imagine this going 2 ways

-> lando keeps off the breaks and runs wide he likely would not have made this mistake

-> lando takes the outside line, untimately stays behind or wheel-to-wheel with max this creates an opportunity for an overtake later on

with those possibilites in mind all lando has to do is: not fuck it up

he IS absolutely taking a risk here, but again, to run a good race you HAVE to take those risks, you HAVE to see the opportunities that are presented to you and HAVE to atleast try taking them. otherwise why race?

III. max takes an unusual line instead of staying on the inside

this is the direct cause of the collision

generally speaking when you take a line you're expected to stay on it

max here is driving almost erratically, he veers off the line he was taking a moment ago, even moving after he started breaking into the turn. this is almost completely illogical

it does NOT line up with what lando would have been expecting, if max had seen that lando was already at his side I highly doubt he would have drove off his line, but appearantly that wasn't the case

you could excuse this by saying that max just didn't see lando at this point (which I think might be true, though we can't know that for sure without a statement from him) but you have to consider just how WEIRD this move is

max blocked lando from taking the inside line - which leaves lando the outside - and then tried going back on the racing line - which lando already took (logically so)

this leaves lando to either run himself off the track to prevent the collision, or to not move at all. I think it would be within reason to assume lando could not have predicted max basically driving into him instead of staying on his line and (even more importantly) leaving lando the space

IV. they collide

max basically set them on the collision course, yes lando took a risk by the outside as quickly as he did, but not doing so would have left him out of the battle. the contact required both drivers to make risky decisions in the heat of the moment. but ultimately it was max who caused the incident, putting lando out of the race entirely

I also went over the other overtakes/attempts in my previous analysis

about their statements post-race

I've actually changed my mind (a bit) about this since yesterday

first of all, lando's statements are getting MASSIVELY exaggerated by the media and fans, often being paraphrased to implying he'd end his friendship with max outright

he did not say that. what he DID say was

"depends what he says. if he says he did nothing wrong then I lose a lot of respect for that. if he admits to being a bit stupid and running into me - being a little reckless in a way - then I'd have a small amount of respect for him."

even though the interviewer included the term "friendship" in their original question, lando wasn't talking about that

I'd also like to point out (and this is the most important bit IMO) that interviewers and the media in general try to stir up drama and conflict, partially through getting reactions out of the drivers, on purpose.

don't ever forget that they put these interviews right after races, when the tensions are still high and they haven't had a real opportunity to debrief yet. after getting his race ended (a race he could have WON, regardless of whether he was driving fair or reckless before) obviously he's going to be a bit pissed about it. I think he gave a relatively fair statement

I don't think conflating friendship with their on-track rivalry is particularly healthy (I don't think I have to elaborate on why we've all seen alpine) but that's obviously not my (or anyone's) place to say whether either lando or max is handling their interpersonal relationships right

as for max's denial of responsibility, I think he's just plain wrong. but again, he was interviewed at a time when he would have still been emotional (though this shows up differently for him than it does for lando, which is why people have such varying reactions to it) for max that means he's not yet thinking completely rationally, every driver denies their fault at first

KEEP IN MIND that this is all just my opinion and I am by no means a mind reader. and that I very likely missed some things or interpreted them in a way that was comfortable for me despite trying my best to stay unbiased.

[pinksparkl]

istg someone needs to stop me making more wips

[tolerateit]

tomorrow is the 8th 😳

[likeanageoldclassic]

she’s resetting the surprise songs for 2024… which means we’ll lose and mourn our favorite surprise songs AGAIN. don’t mind me i’m crying in the corner.

[elle-smells]

"is that concrete? ew they should´ve done it somewhere else" "omg they´re gonna have the worst time from that far away" "what is that stadium? they must have somewhere better

shut uppppp

[snowgloberoundandround]

Swifties in 2023 we’re bringing back the metallic leather skirts and crop tops

[breakbleheavens]

THE ERAS TOUR March 17, 2023 - December 8, 2024

Thank you to the fans who came to this show. You were what made The Eras Tour what it became. At the start of this, I never could've imagined that you would cheer so loudly it registered as an earthquake on seismic charts (this happened multiple times) or that you would lift economies of whatever city we went to. More importantly, you lifted the spirits of those around you with your intricate and clever costumes and outfits. You made people feel included by making friendship bracelets and friends, teaching each other our little tour traditions, and looking out for each other. I heard so many people say that The Eras Tour felt like a safe space. A place for radical girlhood, boyhood or personhood and unapologetic joy. Your excitement was truly contagious. The Eras Tour had no typical age demographic or stereotypical attendee. It was for everyone, because you made everyone feel included. For that, I will never be able to thank you enough.

[tswiftupdatess]

1 year ago today, Taylor Swift at 'The Eras Tour' Film Premiere in Los Angeles, California

Attendees included Taylor's backup dancers, band, Beyoncé, social media influencers, and fans that were hand-picked by Taylor and her Team!

(On October 11, 2023)

[egcdeath]

the old college try

summary: you reconnect with an unexpected guest at the creator of your scholarship’s dinner party.

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

warnings: stanford era, sassy reader, situationship, a touch of family drama, mentions of putting an etsy love spell on someone, arguing, emotional immaturity, maybe not the best decisions from our lovely characters, kindaaaa open ending

word count: 4.6k

author’s note: i am absolutely addicted to all things ex!patrick. i hope you enjoy reading this!

“This is my son, Patrick.”

Your stomach dropped the second the woman’s son turned around, familiar light eyes and scruffy appearance immediately taking you back to your tumultuous third semester of college. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday—the extended periods without contact followed by a surprise appearance at your dorm room, or the drawn out arguments on the phone that left every passerby giving you—the angry woman on the phone in her pajamas on the sidewalk—a strange look, and even the few good times you had with him. 

You blinked once to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you, then felt an onslaught of realization hit you at once. Despite your several month on-and-off situationship with Patrick, you never learned much identifying information about him, including his last name. In fact, that had been something you’d argued about multiple times. The two of you barely knew each other, save for each others’ bodies, which you unfortunately both knew very well.

Had you known that Patrick was the son of Mrs. Zweig, donor to your scholarship, you wouldn’t have accepted the invite to this family event. 

Mrs. Zweig seemed to recognize the shock and confusion on both of your faces. While you didn’t think your mouth was agape, there was certainly a high chance that it was. “You two already know each other?” she asked, looking amused. 

“No,” you quickly replied.

“Yeah,” Patrick said, his words coming out at the same time as yours. 

“Yes,” you tried again, trying to get your story straight. 

“No,” he said this time, your voices overlapping once more. 

She glanced between the two of you skeptically before humming aloud. “Hmm. Well, I’ll let you two chat and connect, or reconnect, whatever it is you’re doing.”

She was off without much more fanfare, leaving you very flustered in her wake. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Patrick asked you, getting right in your face like he always did when the two of you argued. It was almost slightly nostalgia-inducing. 

“What are you doing here?” It was a stupid question, given that he had been introduced as the son of your beneficiary. Of course he would be at a family function. This was his family, after all. But you were flustered, as anyone else in your shoes would be, and words were currently failing you. 

“Zweig doesn’t ring a bell?” he asked. When you responded with a wordless shake of your head, he chuckled in annoyance and disbelief. It all felt very familiar. “What was it that you always used to say to me? ‘You don’t even know what my middle name is?’”

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes, not knowing where the discussion was going, but not liking it regardless. 

In response to your non-verbal response, he leaned in close to your ear, clearly not trying to let on to the rest of the attendees the level of drama that was currently occurring in their midst. 

“You hypocrite.”

The words he spat were simple, but effective—leaving you simultaneously filled with rage and oddly, a little aroused.

He walked off after that, using self restraint that you weren’t actually sure that he had. Knowing Patrick, he would be back and spewing vitriol in your face or in your ear whenever he next had the opportunity. 

You were taking a very different approach to the situation. Now that you knew Patrick was at the event, you were determined to do everything humanly possible to avoid bumping into him. 

You talked to any and everyone you could find, trying to ignore the fact that you could feel Patrick’s eyes searing into you, no matter what part of the room you were in. He was clearly waiting for the moment he could pounce on you once again, evidenced by the way he seemed to start going on the move whenever you stopped talking to someone. 

Somehow, you were still one step quicker than him, quickly maneuvering yourself into new conversations or inserting yourself into the conversations of others. 

You weren’t sure what Patrick so badly wanted to tell you anyway. Maybe taunt you about some new conquest he was with, or to beg you to come home with him after dinner. Unfortunately, the latter proposition didn’t sound all that bad. 

Other than your issue of avoiding conversation with Patrick, you were also facing another challenge: People trying to introduce the two of you to each other. You weren’t sure what it was that made people think that the two of you needed to meet so badly—from Patrick’s mom, who had been insisting for weeks that you meet her son, to a random cousin who happened to think that you’d like each other. You wished you could tell them that you’d already met each other, and that you’d magnificently crashed and burned. 

Briefly wanting to get away from the repetitive small talk and questions about if you’ve met the person you were in a messy situationship with, you found your way to a bathroom—but not without being followed in. 

“What the fuck?” you said immediately as the door behind you shut. 

“We need to talk,” Patrick said plainly, locking the door behind him. 

“Unlock that,” you demanded, not because you were all that afraid of your safety, but because you wanted a quick exit plan if he started to really piss you off. 

“Fine,” he conceded, unlocking the door. “But don’t act weird if someone walks in on us.”

“Walks in on us?” you laughed, parroting his words. “There won’t be anything to walk in on. I mean, you can’t seriously think I’m going to fuck you at a family dinner.”

You were about 95% sure of your words, but that other 5% was thinking about the logistics of getting your tight dress off in that small bathroom.

“I didn’t come in here to fuck you,” he explained.

“Then what are you here for?” you asked, confused about what else he could possibly want from you. 

“We need to get our story straight. I can’t have a repeat of that conversation with my mom.”

“Why does it matter? I’ll just stay away from you for the rest of the night. I’ll expect you to do the same, then there won’t be any issues.”

“That won’t work. Have you seen the seating chart for tonight?”

“Seating chart?” you scoffed. It seemed ridiculous, but it made sense. For people rich enough to create and fund scholarships, it made sense that a large dinner for friends and family members would come equipped with a seating chart. Besides, you were sure there were people with dietary restrictions in your midst. “How would I have known there was a seating chart, let alone look at it ahead of time?”

“Well, a little spoiler: you and I are sitting next to each other.”

“What the hell? Who did that?” 

“I don’t know! Stop looking at me like this is my fault.” Now that he mentioned it, you were currently glaring at Patrick. “It must’ve been my mom. I swear she’s been telling everyone that you and I need to get together. Everyone’s been telling me all night that we need to meet.”

“God, I thought it was just me. Is this a family of matchmakers or something? Or are they trying to help you out with your fear of commitment?”

“I don’t have- can you just focus instead of trying to be funny? We’re gonna be next to each other all night and people are going to be asking us questions. So what are we going to tell them?”

“You don’t want to tell them about you leading me on for months?” you asked innocently, not trying very hard to hide the contempt behind your words. 

“No, you’re right,” Patrick agreed with you, fake thoughtfulness in his tone. “Now that I think about it, maybe we should tell them about the love spell you paid some Etsy witch to put on me.”

You instantly felt your cheeks warm at the mention of such an embarrassing action.

“That was a joke and you know it.” It wasn’t a joke. It was a dark period of time for you. “So what do you suggest we tell them?”

“That we’re just friends,” he said simply. 

“They aren’t gonna be suspicious that you’ve never brought me up before?” you probed, part of you wondering the logic behind his decision, and the other part of you wondering if he’d ever brought you, his situationship, up to his friends or family. 

“Doubt it,” he dismissed with ease.

You were only a little disappointed, but not at all surprised. “So what’s the story?”

“That we met when I was visiting Stanford.”

“That’s true, though.”

“Just leave it at that. We met once or twice through mutual friends,” he directed. 

“Okay,” you shrugged. “Anything else I should know?”

“Just that you look really hot tonight,” he said, biting his lip and unabashedly checking you out. 

“Okay. Goodbye,” you didn’t bother humoring him, though his words did satisfy you. You left the bathroom and didn’t spare a glance back, even as you heard him leave a few minutes later. 

After the torture that was socializing with people whose sole purpose seemed to be setting you up with your ex fling, you’d all been summoned to sit down for dinner. Just as Patrick warned you, you sat down at a seat that was directly next to him. You wished you could switch seats with someone else, putting their nameplate next to him and hoping that no one would be any wiser, but you couldn’t see a world where that would work out for you.

Eventually, Patrick sat down next to you, clearly trying his best not to look at you too closely, lest someone catch on to the fact that you two knew each other. 

You did your best to be a fly on the wall in the conversation that the people around you were having. You poked around at your salad and wondered if you focused hard enough on the leaves, if you’d be able to disappear. 

“So, have you two had the chance to meet?” someone asked from across the table, directing the question to you and Patrick. Clearly, your plan of disappearing hadn’t worked out after all.

“Yeah! We actually know each other already,” you explained, directing a friendly smile towards whatever cousin or family friend you were speaking to. Clearly, Patrick didn’t trust your answering abilities, as he butt into the conversation before you could finish speaking.

“We have some mutual friends, so we’ve crossed paths once or twice,” Patrick clarified, attempting to give more context to your relationship. Technically, it was true. While you weren’t necessarily friends with the man who inadvertently set you up, you’d been invited to a party being hosted by some tennis player in your accounting class who played with Patrick at some point, and met at that very event. 

Despite the many partygoers, Patrick seemed instantly drawn to you, or at least, was instantly attracted to you, based on the way that he openly checked you out as he approached you. Normally, that kind of thing would make you roll your eyes and walk away, but you’d been intrigued by his looks and his shameless demeanor. If only you could go back in time to tell yourself to roll your eyes and walk away. 

“But we don’t know each other very well,” you added. That, you firmly believed was true. Patrick may have known what position made you cum quickest, but he didn’t know a thing that actually mattered about you. He probably couldn’t even tell you what your major was. 

“What a coincidence you ended up here, then,” the other man, whose name you couldn’t remember, commented. “Did Patrick help you get the scholarship?”

“What?” you tried not to sound too offended, though you very much were. You tried to remind yourself that saying the wrong thing could cost you your entire higher education, and ended up laughing off the very rude allegation. “It’s really just a funny coincidence.”

To your surprise, Patrick jumped to your defense. “Unlike you and your seat on the board, there’s no nepotism here. We met long after she already got the scholarship, which she earned. She’s one of the most dedicated students I know.”

His words surprised you. The argumentative ones calling out his relative, not so much, but you were a little impressed by the way that he stood firm on the fact that you were a good student. Sure, he witnessed you studying for midterms in your dorm room every now and then—even if at the time he’d been trying to distract you from your work to get some attention—and now that you were thinking about it, he did bring you flowers after he found out you’d made it onto the Dean’s List. 

Maybe Patrick hadn’t been all that bad of a… you didn’t even know what, after all. But that was certainly a thought you were only entertaining due to his sweet behavior he was currently exhibiting. The fact that you were a whole year out from your entanglement and still couldn’t define what the hell happened between the two of you was a testament to how much of a mess your relationship was. 

“Not that you know too many students,” his relative laughed in that stuck-up rich person's laugh they all seemed to have. You tried to ignore how you were already getting caught in family politics, getting your academic ability called into question in the crossfire of an easy insult Patrick dealt to his family member. “Pat’s too busy going around the world hitting balls. How’s that going, by the way?”

From what you’d observed in your own efforts to see what he was up to, they weren’t going great. Notably, after you’d cut things off with him, his performance decreased significantly. 

“It’s going well,” Patrick said with false confidence that you saw right through. If you could see right through it, you were sure that his family members were able to do the same. A brief glance at the woman in front of you who was clearly attempting to suppress a laugh confirmed this for you immediately. 

It was almost a little pathetic to see, watching Patrick lie so obviously to an audience that couldn’t even pretend to believe him. Seeing how he stepped in to help you out, it was only fair that you did the same for him. Even if he hadn’t done so, you were starting to become embarrassed for him.

“Have you been to any of his matches recently?” you asked, interrupting their mockery of Patrick. “He did a really great job at the French Open. I mean, even making it to the French Open is really impressive.”

Not that you’d been at any of the matches, but you occasionally Googled his name to see what he was up to. Even more occasionally, you turned on ESPN to see if you could catch any footage of him playing. But it wasn’t like you even really cared. 

Okay. You cared a little bit. 

Most of the time, you were rooting for him to fail, as is the right of all bitter exes. But now was not the time for you to share that information. Not when Patrick was looking at you like you were crazy, and his family members were eyeing you suspiciously. 

That was when you remembered that the two of you weren’t supposed to know each other very well. You instantly tried your best to cover up your tracks. “But I don’t know a lot about tennis, that’s just what our friend told me.” Considering that you hadn’t spoken to Art since Accounting 223 ended, he did not actually share this information with you.

“Huh. Do you guys talk about Patrick a lot?” you were trying your best not to fold under the skeptical look she was giving you. 

“Only when he’s doing something cool. Which isn’t very often,” it was a good save, which left the rest of the table laughing at your little dig at Patrick. You were starting to understand his family dynamic a little more, and it didn’t exactly seem like a pleasant one. 

You could practically feel his betrayed gaze searing into you, but you did your best to ignore it. You were already feeling guilt gnaw into you about hanging him back out to dry with a family who already liked to pick on him. 

“You know, that actually reminds me. You said you don’t know much about tennis, but I remember seeing you play a little bit. How’s that going?” Patrick asked you, his question obviously trying to reveal something embarrassing about you. You instantly felt the blood drain from your face at the mention of your attempt to play the sport.

Your brief stint with tennis was mainly born out of your desire to see Patrick more often. After your run-in at his friend’s party, you were determined to put yourself in the type of situations that would allow you to ‘accidentally’ run into Patrick. 

You started off simple, going to the tennis matches for Stanford’s men’s team, hoping that Patrick would eventually show up in the stands to support his friend. Despite your incessant searching of the stands, you were never able to find Patrick amongst the crowd of students, fans, and supportive family members. 

Never one to give up easily, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Maybe if you were a little sportier, Patrick would take an interest in you, reaching out to you so you wouldn’t ever have to make the first move. You spent the evening perusing sporting goods stores with your roommate, putting cute tennis outfits and equipment that you couldn’t really afford on a credit card. 

The next morning, the two of you got up bright and early to hit the tennis courts before anyone else arrived. The game seemed simple enough, but proved to be far more difficult than either of you anticipated. After half an hour of attempting to play with frankly awful technique, you decided to call it quits and do a photoshoot instead. 

Feeling satisfied with pictures that featured your best angles and the slightest hint of breeze blowing up your skirt, you decided to post your photos on social media with a caption about how much you loved tennis. That was sure to get Patrick’s attention.

Just as you’d suspected, not long after you posted, you received a message from Patrick, casually asking about how things were going with you. Your faux interest in tennis had been promptly abandoned. 

Surprised at the fact that Patrick was bringing up your very blatant bait of him, you were caught slightly off guard. “Oh, I was never really super into it,” you attempted to dismiss.

“That’s news to me,” he chuckled. “I swear, you told me about how you were super into tennis. Was that just a phase, or…?”

He eyed you mischievously, clearly challenging you to a match of whatever mind game it was that he wanted to play with you. Unluckily for him, you were in the mood to play–and win.

“Something like that. I guess I just figured out that tennis really wasn’t for me. But you know, college is a time to try out new things. See what you like, what you don’t like. And man, I really didn’t like tennis.”

Obviously, you weren’t talking just about tennis. You hoped that Patrick was able to catch onto the not-so-subtle subtext. 

“I don’t know, I thought you liked tennis a lot. Thought it was good for you,” Patrick commented casually, going back to his food before looking back at you.

“It was surprisingly pretty toxic,” you replied easily.

“Are you sure you didn’t share a part in that toxicity? With a sport like tennis, you really get out what you put in.”

“Sure, but I didn’t put in nearly as much toxicity as I was getting from it.”

“Of course you’d think that,” Patrick murmured. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“It means that you think you’re so guiltless, but you played a bigger role in… tennis not working out than you’re acting like you did.”

“Please, enlighten me on how I could’ve made tennis work out better for me.”

“I just think maybe you’re being a little too hard on tennis in comparison to what really happened.”

“Just because you have a nice racket and a little more experience than me doesn’t mean you’re an expert on how bad things were for me. Seriously, Patrick. You actually don’t have a clue about what I was going through.”

“Are you guys still talking about tennis?” someone asked with a forced laugh, breaking the thick tension at the table. There was a stiff, awkward chuckle from your fellow dinner companions. It was almost as if you’d forgotten that you were at his family’s dinner, bitterly arguing with Patrick in loosely coded language. You should have the shame to feel embarrassed, but you mostly felt agitated with Patrick. 

“Obviously,” Patrick replied. “What else would we be talking about?”

“Oh yeah. Obviously,” they said stiffly. “So like, are you sure you two don’t know each other that well?”

“We really don’t,” you quickly replied.

“Why would we lie about that?” Patrick said, your voices overlapping.

As if arguing about something that was very obviously a metaphor for your relationship wasn’t suspicious enough, this reaction certainly didn’t help your case. It was ridiculous to attempt to keep up this façade when it was becoming more and more clear to anyone at the table with eyes to see and ears to hear that you two were more than casual, mutual friends.

“Actually, we did lie. We were friends for a little while,” you confessed.

“Friends?” Patrick parroted with a scoff. He looked at you with disbelief before shaking his head. “Excuse me,” he announced before standing up and walking off from the table.

The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, which you took as your cue to follow Patrick to wherever he was sulking off to. “Sorry. Excuse me.”

The two of you said nothing as you followed Patrick out to his back patio. The fresh, cold air felt nice after a suffocating, stressful evening. As Patrick sat down on a piece of comfortable furniture, you wordlessly sat across from him.

“Just go. Back inside, back home, I don’t give a shit. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Clearly you do,” you replied, watching him dig in his pocket for a cigarette to no avail. He finally found a loose cigarette and brought it to his lips, ignoring you as he lit it up. 

“Don’t blow it in my face,” you warned him, though you wouldn’t mind taking a drag or two from it. 

“I won’t,” he replied, words muffled around the cigarette at his lips. 

The two of you sat in silence before he spoke once more. “Do you seriously feel like we were just friends?”

“Jesus,” you laughed at the question, unbelieving that Patrick would think all of your desperate acts to try to get him to commit to you could be interpreted as anything but romantic. “Of course we weren’t just friends. But you try describing what we had to someone who wasn’t a witness to the train wreck that was our relationship.”

“We were…” he trailed off as he thought about how to describe your relationship. “Friends with benefits?”

“Sure,” you replied, though you obviously disagreed with him. “You know, this is exactly why things didn’t work out. I wanted to be with you so badly and you refused to acknowledge that we had a connection any deeper than physical until it was convenient for you.”

“Did you expect me to spell out how I felt about you when I was showing you how I felt?” he asked as if it were the most obvious question in the world.

“Actually, yes. Clearly we were not on the same page about how we felt if you thought that you were being so obvious while I was over-analyzing every single word you’d ever said to me to try to figure out how you felt about me.”

“Are you serious? You were the one who was impossible to understand. One day you wanted me to take you out on a date and hold you in your little twin sized bed afterward, and the next you didn’t want to speak to me. How was I supposed to interpret that?”

“Patrick, you were doing the same thing to me! I was just so mad at you. Like, constantly. Even though I had feelings for you. My friends were always telling me I’m an idiot for letting you treat me that way, so obviously I tried to start pushing you away. But even with everything, I still really liked you, so I couldn’t fully stay away from you,” you explained, hoping that your disjointed words would make sense to him. 

It truly was a very complicated situation. Part of you wondered if you had communicated this earlier, if things might have ended differently for you. 

Patrick seemed to be thinking deeply about your words before he spoke again. “Do you ever still think about me?”

You had two options for approaching his question. You could lie, like you hadn’t made it abundantly clear earlier that you still, at the very least, pay attention to his tennis career, or you could tell the truth and risk having your feelings hurt again. 

“Sometimes,” you confessed, going with the latter. “I’m mostly still really annoyed with the way you treated me, and the fact that I let you treat me that way. But sometimes I miss you, anyway.”

“Then let’s do things differently this time,” he proposed as if it was the best and brightest idea he’d ever had. “I miss you, too. It shouldn’t have taken us breaking up for me to realize how much I need you in my life, but it did.”

“What are you saying, Patrick?” you asked, trying to make sure that you fully understood his proposition. Was he trying to get you back?

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he spelled out for you. “I want to treat you better than I ever did before. I’ve thought about everything that went down between us, and I think that we can make it work this time if we just try to be honest with each other. What do you think?”

You were shocked at the offer. If someone had told you going into this dinner that you would end it with your former situationship asking you to be with him, you would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, his proposition, and the fact that you wanted to say yes, didn’t exactly feel like a laughing matter.

You paused as you stopped to consider your options. Your gut instinct was to say yes—you’d wanted him for so long, and he clearly wasn’t over you. You obviously had some things you needed to work through before you really made this relationship work, but the feelings were there. The more logical part of your brain was telling you to say no—Patrick had hurt you so many times before, that there was no telling if he would hurt you again. 

“Sure. Let’s try it,” you said, ignoring all of the logic in your head and fully following where the passion in your heart wanted to take you. 

You couldn’t be sure if this would end in another heartbreak for you, but you weren’t so sure that you cared either.

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse v); s.g.

synopsis: it's utahime's birthday and you play spin the bottle... bonus, you're tipsy! content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, underage drinking, seven minutes in heaven (probs done wrong? idk), semi-first kisses, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: here's another one shot for my gojo anthology series! I found out it's utahime's birthday (2/18) so I managed to pull something together for this lil series (happy birthday utahime)! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

"Happy birthday, Utahime!" Shoko exclaimed, wrapping an arm around the dark haired girl, clinking her beer with hers as the two chugged. There was an obvious buzz in the air, not only them, but everyone else. Mei Mei managed to get a private room where no one would question what was going on inside, seeing as some of the attendees were underage—yourself included. Your interest had always been piqued by it, this not being the first time your friends had beer around you. However, this was your first time having it... And you weren't the only one.

"Who would've thought you were a lightweight," Mei Mei piped as she nudged Gojo with her shoulder. "You never bothered to drink with us before, what's changed your mind?" Smirking at him, already knowing the answer, the older woman gazed at the white haired boy as his cheeks burned a bright pink. His eyes shifted in your direction—where you had been huddled up with the birthday girl and Ieiri. "Oh, trying to impress someone, huh?"

"Shut up," Gojo mumbled, rubbing his cheeks as his body slightly swayed. "I didn't want to be a party pooper..." Eyeing you as you laughed, Satoru felt his heart race faster than it ever had in his life. He blamed it on the alcohol. "It tastes like shit."

"Then why do you keep drinking it?" Geto asked, now settled beside his best friend. "You hate beer, the first time you tried it at Shoko's birthday was enough to stop you."

"It's because he's trying to impress little miss sweetheart over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. Suguru looked over, not surprised that he was doing this just to look cool in front of you. 

"She's not gonna care if you hate it, Satoru," Suguru nudged him. "This is her first time, too."

"That's exactly... why," Gojo hiccuped. "If she can do it, so can... I!" He nodded, lifting his bottle to take another swig. Instantly hissing at the taste, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head, Geto laughed beside him before patting his back. "I'm trying to find a way to enjoy this but, god it's aw—"

"Satoru!" You exclaimed, waving at him before stumbling over. Falling to your knees in front of him and smiling wide, waving your own bottle before him. "This is really good, right?" You asked, realizing he had chosen the same beer as you. 

"Y—" choking on his words, Suguru smacked his back. "Yeah! To— Totally!"

Giggling, you made your way beside him as Mei Mei crawled away to sit with the other girls. "This is so much fun... what a great party," you beamed, leaning your head on his shoulder. Gojo grew stiff, grip on the bottle tightening as his free hand clutched onto his knee. Geto sat there with a smug grin, an idea coming to mind as his focus shifted towards the empty bottles. 

"Hey, I've got an idea," he spoke up, moving onto his knees to grab an empty bottle. "Let's play spin the bottle, hmm?"

"Yes!" Utahime nodded, tugging on Shoko's sleeve and waving for Mei Mei to move over so they could form a circle. 

"That'll be fun!" You nodded after lifting your head from Gojo's shoulder, grabbing his wrist so he could join you. 

He wasn't sure if it was the liquid courage, or maybe he was hyper aware, but you were being more touchy with him. Normally, you kept things cordial, constantly smiling or laughing with him as he was the one finding ways to touch you... Now with the tables turn? His heart was basically at the pit of his stomach, slightly trembling as you sat practically thigh to thigh with him. 

"Okay, let's do truth or dare," Suguru said as he settled the bottle, "whoever it lands on has to answer. Got it?" Seeing everyone nodded, the dark haired man grinned as he eyed his best friend, who basically looked like he was disassociating from the world. 

"Let's go!" Utahime exclaimed before clapping. 

"Birthday girl has the honor," Suguru nodded as Utahime beamed before reaching over to spin the bottle. 

Everyone watched with curious eyes, and like that, one by one everyone took a turn to spin the bottle. Most answered with truth, only to earn an annoyed groan from Mei Mei saying how things need to change up. 

Spinning the bottle, Mei Mei smirked as it landed on Gojo, "truth or dare, blue eyes."

Gulping, he eyed everyone as they eagerly watched him. Sucking in a sharp breath, he sat up, "dare."

"Finally," Shoko mumbled as Utahime stifled her laughter. 

"Perfect, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with cutie over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. "No take me backs, get in there," she pointed at the tiny supply closet behind the two of you. Gojo looked over with hesitation as you blushed. 

"Okay!" You nodded, standing up and grabbing his hand to join you. 

He felt like he had no control over his body, following you along the way and nearly tripping over his own feet as you practically shoved him inside once opening the door. Watching as you followed inside, shutting the door behind you as you were pressed against one another, Satoru held his breath. Looking down at you with wide eyes as your own looked up at him, hooded, he felt his heart thudding against his ribcage. 

Pressing your hands against his chest, you smiled up at him. "We've got seven minutes in here..." you said. 

"You— you think they'll make us... stay that long in here?" He stuttered as you shrugged, only to shyly look away. 

"I hope so..." you admitted, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

Eyeing you and wanting nothing more than to touch you, Gojo clenched his fists at his sides before throwing his head back. His mind was racing, thoughts rushing around as he felt not only your hands on him, but your whole body. It took his entire being—and willpower—to fight the blood rushing towards a place it shouldn't be. Not in a moment like this. Even if it was meant for that. "You... Uh..."

"Hm?" You looked up at him as he lowered his focus to meet yours. 

"N— Nothing, heh..." he awkwardly looked away, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. 

"Satoru..." you spoke up. 

"Yeah?" He mumbled. 

"Please look at me..." you begged but he stubbornly kept his eyes on the wall beside him. "Toru..." you quietly spoke as the man shivered at the sound of his nickname. "Please..."

Feeling your hands snake their way up to his face, you gently turned his head to look at you. "I— I—"

"At a loss for words?" You tilted your head, teasing him as he blinked. "Can I kiss you?"

Feeling his heart sink as you gazed up at him with lazy eyes, Gojo took in deep breaths, "you— you want to... kiss me?" He asked, gulping. 

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to..." you nearly whispered, causing Satoru to shiver yet again. The feeling of your nails gently caressing his skin as you didn't bother to look away, Gojo squeezed his eyes shut. How were you being the bold one? How did you have the power to always turn him into mush? Sure, you had liquid courage, but even when you weren't tipsy you had him so easily wrapped around his finger! "Toru?"

"Yes," he nodded. 

"Yes... I can?" You asked as he nodded again. 

"Please..." he whispered, begging. He knew this wasn't the right time to get his first kiss from you (or ever) but he was so desperate and so needy. He should've said no, should've said another time. However, he was a teenage boy. He didn't entirely use common sense...

Tiptoeing as you tugged him down gently, hands moving to the back of his neck, your lips pressed against his. Feeling his heart in his throat as he gazed at your closed eyes, Gojo's shaky hands settled on your hips as he kissed you back, indulging in this (what felt like) once in a lifetime opportunity. Surely neither of you would never forget. 

"So, how was it?" Shoko asked as she sat beside you on a bench, enjoying a pair of strawberry milk boxes during your break from training. 

"How was what?" You tilted your head. 

"Your seven minutes in heaven with Satoru," she chuckled, only to earn a confused look from you. "Y'know, last night?"

"Seven minutes in heaven with Satoru?" You asked as she nodded. "I don't remember that..."

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

[taylorswiftstyle]

Meet & greet | Sydney, Australia | February 23, 2024

Adidas 'Adicolor 70s T-Shirt' - $50.00

Taylor notably hasn't been doing official fan meet and greets on the Eras Tour (a worthy sacrifice in favour of a longer setlist, imo). But there is often an exception made for the offspring of celebrity guest attendees. In Sydney it appears she made time to meet Hugh Jackman friends' children post-show and she was wearing a very cute casual sporty tee by Adidas.

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde.

¿ En serio alguien pensaba que al finalizar el rodaje esto iba a ser pasto del aburrimiento ?

La promoción de NY no necesita más conversación, la interacción entre Sam y Cait habla por si sola por mucho que Mordor se empeñe en echar balones fuera pero llega el ultimo día de rodaje y firman que aquí acaba todo, cada uno por su lado, después de todo su relación solo se basa en el trabajo pero ¡¡¡¡¡ SORPRESA !!!!! Sam tiene un acto marcado con la etiqueta de negocio y su compañera de trabajo, después de un día de muchas emociones que pide calma y relax, aparece en el. Vamos a pensar que como ella también está en el negocio del alcohol va para tomar nota pero ¿ donde esta su "socio" en el ? La aparición de Cait en la fiesta del primer aniversario de Thegardensheddrinksco acompañada de su "socio" caballero con claros signos de pasar mucho frío a pesar de los looks más veraniegos del resto de asistentes, levantó una buena polvadera por qué era normal que asistieran juntos, entonces ¿ Porque el no asiste a este si todo está relacionado con el negocio del alcohol ?

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Gracias por los excelentes comentarios que haces aquí. Siempre es Navidad cuando envías algo, así que me apresuro a traducirlo:

'Did anyone really think that the end of filming was going to be boring?

The NY promotion doesn't need any more discussions, the interaction between Sam and Cait speaks for itself no matter how much Mordor insists with the blaming game, but the last day of filming arrives and they are adamant that this is where it all ends, each one on their own, after all their relationship is only based on work. But SURPRISE!!!!! Sam has a business event and his coworker shows up there, after a day of many emotions that requires calm and relaxation. Therefore, we could think that since she's also in the alcohol business she showed up to make some contacts, but where's her "partner"? Cait's appearance at The Garden Shed Drinks Co's first anniversary party, accompanied by her gentleman "partner" with clear signs of being very cold, despite the more summery looks of the rest of the attendees, raised quite a stir because it was normal for them to attend together. So why didn't he attend this one if everything is related to alcohol business?'

And just like this, boom! A lightbulb moment, here.

This. This is the million-dollar question: 'why didn't he attend this one if everything is related to alcohol business?'

Exactly. Where is the Director/Secretary/Director of several British and Irish companies, either in-common or separately owned, dealing with alcohol or pubs (LOOOOL)?

The answer is in those damn papers, of course. But there are none so blind than those who wouldn't see.

So, let me sum up the reasoning panic attack across the street:

Stage 1: filming just ended. She will go back to the Glasgow Taj Mahal with no double glazed windows and that's it. He will endlessly get drunk in some random sleazy bar with or without that incompetent saleswoman. They hate each other. So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu. And oh - he is, of course, gay.

Stage 2: ugh, another booze related event in Glasgow, featuring S and his permanent shilling, I am not giving this the light of day. Perhaps nobody will notice?

Stage 3: Queen C would never attend that sordid event, especially when the Peasant is shilling his booze. Nope. Over her dead body.

Stage 4: 🚨🚨🚨there was a woman in that car 🚨🚨. I repeat: 🚨🚨🚨there was a woman in that car 🚨🚨🚨. We know who she is [insert random name here], oh my (pearls sway), he has no shame!!!

Stage 5: there was no woman in that car.

Stage 6: there was a woman in that car, but I am going to fix myself some hot cocoa and fuck you all. In my world, the Eiffel Tower can be a Twinkie. Or the other way round.

Stage 7: confirmation that C attended the event. I have been called out for hiding things. I am, therefore, a victim. I am starting the drama, full cycle. Divert, divert, divert attention. Engage!

Stage 8: this was an OL-related event. The second wrap-up party. No, this was a common friend's birthday. No, this was... ok, this was an after work thing. Nooooo....

Stage 9: there has been an, as yet unexplained, shortage of babysitters in Glasgow on Friday October 25th, 2024. Fathers babysit. That is modern enough and hopefully that avoids more inconvenient questions. Right?

Stage 10: let's quickly post something about irrelevant social media statistics. No, nope, no, I am not unsettled by anything. Nope.

Stage 11: nobody brought his/her better half. Fact.

Stage 12: they are co-workers.

Stage 13: everything happened because of the Shippers.

[hitsdifferents]

london eras attendees i wish you all of the safety and calmness of heart during your shows!! <3

[avaults]

chapter one - welcome to society

from false pretense - a bridgerton!au starring suguru geto

pairing: suguru geto x female reader (zenin)

ch. summary: as daughter of the zenin household, your parents expect no less than perfection of you - their precious emerald! so what happens if the queen sees you; will she have the same perception of you? (3.8k)

content/warnings: bridgerton au, regency era au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, misogyny, bullying, jealousy, mentions of alcohol and explicit contents, mental health issues, death,  academic themes, breaking society’s norms and expectations, geto is as prideful as ever, reader pretending to be someone else, both being a pain 

author's gossip: bonjour, it's me - Anna! so the first chapter has finally arrived and I hope you like it. thank you very much for taking your time to read - please enjoy! special thanks to @fushitoru <3

Dearest gentle reader,

welcome to yet another season of  family representatives entering into society. Alongside mamas making sure their daughters shimmer as brightly as a star, are young eligible men using the opportunity to check whose sparkle might fit themselves. Weeks, months and hours are spent on preparing these young women for their debut to society - all in hopes of impressing her majesty. Though whom may the queen deem worthy enough to take place among her most prized collection of jewelry and will therefore earn the title as this year’s most desired debutante; earning this season’s title as the most incomparable - the diamond of the season.

Upon society’s excitement on to whose daughter will bedazzle the crowd and especially the queen the most to make the final cut, are also rumors lingering as to whom may grace us with their decision to fully participate in the courting related events regarding public. But before we will dive into every mother’s most anticipated part of this very column, I shall inform you about whom many males and also the queen herself have set their sights on. There are two young women who are currently being favored not only for their looks, but also for their standings in society as well as their exquisite mannerisms proven in minor gatherings before. Both are of exceptional lineages. One being miss Iori, daughter of viscount Iori and the other one is in fact a close friend of hers; miss Zenin of the Zenin household. Bear with me as we pay attention to what future will hold spare for these two little birds.

Now onto the most important part for many - during most recent days it has come to my attention that whispers surrounding this season’s attendees have steadily increased in volume. So much so, that I could not do other but to investigate those myself for I can confirm wether it is of great value or impact to society. So now this very author can confirm with joy that none other than Suguru Geto, heir to duke Geto, is preparing to pay his full attention on finding himself a match. Will he succeed on the mirage market though? We certainly shall see as men of the Geto household are said to be rather demanding and expectant. So far every woman that has entered into this house’s rows excelled with not only a grande skillset in music and literature but also in holding proper conversations to entertain audience. Additionally these women were able to continuously display more than perfect knowledge of their ranks in society and value to their partner. Though sir Suguru Geto holds quite the reputation for being much too prideful, causing him to be rather distant and disregarding towards others - especially those lower in rank. Will this apply to the dames and debutantes as well? We certainly will be kept on edge for this forthcoming quest.

Yours truly - Lady Whistledown

A huff escapes your mother’s lips as she laid this weeks print aside on the surface of your vanity, taking one last judging look at your appearance. A certain expression begins to take place on her visage, indicating that she is not yet fully content with your attire. Intrigued, you gather your nerves in order to speak up properly: „Mama, I fear you are not content with my looks so how may I improve them to your liking? Dare I recommend some striking jewelry?“. Your mother pauses with examining you to contemplate said thoughts of yours. After a moment of thinking, she responds: „My dear, that is certainly a sparkling idea. But what pieces shall we choose upon? We must keep your attire a certain amount of interesting, yet without making your look overbearing.“. „I share those very thoughts . As of now I dare say I look rather plain and I am afraid that colorless or neutral jewelry may not do much on improving the simplicity of my looks, instead it might further the dullness of it.“. Mindlessly you rise from your seat to leave for the room inside the manor where all the prized jewelry is stored and cared for.

As you are strutting down the hallway leading to the room, you glance over your shoulder to see your mother following suit with a pleased smile gracing her lips. Though you love your mother dearly, you can not deny the frustration lingering deep within your stomach. All throughout your life, you were raised to obey and please you parents every wishes in order to prepare you for mirage - according to Zenin’s standard of values of course. A certain amount of pressure constantly being laid upon you. You shall not disappoint and dishonor this family’s name ever by making a fool out of yourself or others. You shall experience quite the education; enough to uphold a proper conversation and interest potential suitors, enough to entertain audience with your social skillset during gatherings - but never shall you receive too much education to form a mind of your own and cause commotion with it. Do not speak up and do not talk back. Especially to your elders.

Once your reach the desired spot, you bring yourself to break away from those constricting feelings and to focus on the task at hand. Finding the right piece of jewelry is hard, especially from such a vast collection as that of your family. Rows and rows of silvers or golds either covered in sapphires, rubies, pearls, diamonds or emeralds are in front of you. Thus making it hard to choose from, especially the emeralds which your family is known for. Fully engulfed in the sheer beauty by the gems, you do not notice the presence of your brother Naoya until he clears his throat, making it known that he is in the room with you. His disapproving stare is burning through your skin, leaving residuals deep within your bones. More than enough to leave you with chills regularly.

Shaking off those unsettling stares, you redirect your attention and soon enough decide on a pair of sapphire studded earrings to try on along with a matching necklace. Once you applied the jewelry you study the improved look in the mirror, just to hear Naoya’s typical disregarding scoff: „Dear sister, I do not interfere with your looks much for neither do I care or share some interest in, though if you might ask me you should refrain from using anything blueish. It seems blue dulls your complexion by far, letting you resemble that of a corpse’s.“. „Naoya Zenin, this is certainly no way to treat a woman, especially your sister!“. „I am only stating the obvious. I am not at fault for my sister being so sensitive to critique. I suggest you improve that trait of yours instead of focussing on some jewelry in an attempt to do so with your looks. After all you did not inherit this family’s genes much; you are hideous. Your skills I will not fur-„. „Naoya Zenin, you are to leave this room immediately as I no longer tolerate such disdainful behavior! If you dare to refuse my very command then you leave me no other choice but to talk to your father regarding your allowances. In fact I will have him cut them.“. „But mother-„. „Enough! Now take your leave.“. As Naoya takes off, you relax a little. Letting out a breath you absentmindedly withheld. Though, his words keep circling your mind the time you turn your attention back to the mirror. It seems you can not let go of this hurtful comment and form judgement of your own. Sadly you do see his point, which makes you even more frustrated.

Just then you hear your father calling out for you, signaling you that you do not have much more time left to make choices. Unfortunately this only adds to your level of stress, that build up in the recent hours. So without another thought left to spare you quickly put the sapphires back in their place: „Oh mommy, this will simply not do! I hate to admit it, but my brother is right. Blue does not favor my complexion and actually makes me look like living death. Additionally it seems I do not have enough time left to make the right decision in jewelry as father already called out for me. I am afraid I will be at fault for us not making it to the announcement in time.“. „My dear do not fret too much. Sadly we do have not more time left, but I am certain you will select the right set of accessories soon. Just close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, then let your heart choose.“. Those words of wisdom offered you some reassurance and without a doubt you follow suit. Breathe in - breathe deep - breathe out et voilà, your gaze lands on emerald embedded earrings with an equally decent necklace to pair with. You can feel your whole face sparkling up upon applying them, knowing you just made the perfectly right decision. The emerald’s color accentuates your features nicely and boost your complexion. An additional prospect is that it adds some touch of color to your otherwise very dull ensemble of all white fabrics. Your mother can not help but let out a squeal of pure joy as she takes your gleeful appearance in: „My precious girl, these pieces of jewelry suit you so well! They make this whole attire of yours complete - making you shimmer like a gem yourself. A positive aspect that comes along with it is that you subtly represent your family’s color with it as well. Like a true Zenin indeed. Your father will be very pleased by that. But now we shall leave or else we might really be late.“. Just then your father calls out for you yet again, this time though you can hear the slight agitation in voice. Your mother already hushes you out the room and down the stairs, where you meet your fathers expectant gaze. „I am sorry daddy, I just put a lot of effort into looking perfectly presentable and also representable. I guess it took up more time than I initially calculated it would. I will make sure to keep that in mind the next time we will prepare for an event.“ Your fathers stern visage softens at your words: „It is alright, we are still on time though I would have appreciated it if you responded to my calls instead of letting me believe it fell to death ears. I was getting worried for a moment. Other than that I see you managed well. So far I am very content with your looks and I see that you added our house’s color to it - makes me really happy.“. Besides him is your brother trying his best to keep the already forming disgust on his face at bay. Instead in an attempt to to mask it he clears his throat, drawing the attention: „As much as I hate to interrupt this conversation, I might remind you we shall take our leave or I fear we will not arrive in time.“ Silently agreeing you step to the carriage to take a seat for the ride ahead. The ride itself is not long and also not filled with much talking as everyone is lost in their own thoughts based on the anxiety and stress swirling the air.

Though the moment you enter the grounds of the palace your thoughts seem to falter and you are mesmerized by the palace’s beauty of architecture. This interest keeps your nerves at bay until you are pulled out from your daydreams by your mother, pulling you inside the preparation room for the presentation. Your father and Naoya have split from you two prior, to secure themselves a good spot in the audience. After all Naoya still has to find himself a wife. Preparations for the parade are fleeting, only tucks and tufts of feathers and fabrics are left to do. Otherwise the looks are already set. Every young woman in attendance is clad in white, though there are attempts to from each to draw attention with details; Either with the arrangement and amount of feathers, the distinct scents of perfumes applied or the ever so bedazzling jewelry the decided on. Scanning the room, your eyes land on a head of raven hair not too far away.seeing that as your opportunity to calm your steadily rising nerves by striking up a small conversation with your friend prior to the parade. „Viscountess Iori, Utahime! It is such a delight to see you two.“. Utahime spins around, a bright smile latched on her lips: „Madame Zenin, Y/n - I am relieved to see you. Stress is steadily consuming me. So much so that for a second I felt like I was on the verge of crying.“. „I see what you are talking about, I actually feel the same way about this event and everything regarding it. Though dare I might say, that your attire is really stunning today.“. „Thank you very much, it is really kind of you. But I may say so about your ensemble as well - truly shimmering. I fear you are greater completion than I expected.“. „Truth be told, it will be very exciting for us. But I worry we are not the only ones in competence unlike lady Whistledown has reported.“ Looking around the room she agrees: „You certainly are right, I can spot several who have diamond worthy potential.“ While approximately 15 young ladies are adding finishing touches in attempts to calm their nerves, only a handful of them stand out - at least to you; one woman in particular. A striking aura to fit her upright posture, clad in a dress tailored to favor her already slander shape. Sadly your observations are disturbed by to footmen  ordering the guests into positions, announcing we will parade alphabetically. Unfortunately you are the last in line to present themselves, adding only further to the stress. You know that as time goes by, it will be harder for the queen to focus and therefore making it harder for her to decide, especially if there are several shining young ladies. So what if she has already made her choice by the time you step foot into the very hall. Your patience begins waning resulting in your posture lacking necessary tension, but your mother aside you is quick to notice and reminds you of it. After collecting yourself and fixing your posture, your name is being called - indicating for you to parade.

Once you are making your way down to the queen, you take chance to check for familiar faces. You even manage to spot your father and Naoya, some of your cousins, viscount Iori and even some dukes you have heard of, but there is someone among them who catches your eyes - one you have not seen or heard of before. Tall and lean with hair black as ink cascading down his shoulders and onto his chest. His raven hair framing his face, pulling focus on his striking features matching his even complexion. Eyes sharp and lips so soft adding to his extraordinary facial structure, one unlike any other you have seen before. As if god himself carved this very man out of marble. Simply heavenly. To your demise though he seems to notice your stare and averts his gaze somewhere into the audience, his eyes narrowing. His facial expression switching from discontent to boredom occasionally. Feeling the blush of embarrassment building on your chest, you redirect your own gaze ahead. Upon arriving in front of the queen, you present her your long practiced greeting. „My my, what do we have here? Please rise so I can take a better look.“. You follow the queens order wordlessly. „Th emeralds you wear are very dazzling. I must admit it suits you well - they are accentuating your beauty. And as I recall these emeralds equal your family’s colors, am I right?“. „Yes, your majesty.“. „Mhmm, very sparkling indeed…“. With these words you are dismissed along with the rest of society for the queen has to take a break in order to close her diamond wisely.

Seeing as your parents are pleased with your behavior, you excuse yourself to go fetch some fresh a air on the terrace. There you find Utahime and enjoy some catching up before deciding to head back inside. But you are interrupted by Naoya who stands in the entrance to the hall leading back to the ballroom, blocking you from entering. Your brother lets Utahime pass, telling her you two will follow soon after. But something is off; it is unlikely for your brother to meet you unless it is either in his favor or to torment you: „Do tell brother, what brings you outside?“. „Am i not allowed to catch a breath of fresh air myself before accompanying my dear sister back to the hall?“. „There is no problem with that, though it seems very unlike you for you to be so caring. So what do you want to tell me this time?“. „Well it is not something I want to tell you but rather something I want to question you about.“. „Alright go ahead so we can return as fast as possible, I am sure the queen will announce the diamond soon.“. „Well then, what happened during the parade?“. Taken aback, you respond confused: „I do not know what your speaking of? I paraded perfectly, no tripping or loss of balance.“. Naoya begins to circle you, mustering you: „Hard for me to admit, but you did. Though I did not meant that. What I want to know is what your relationship with him is?“. „What do you mean? Which relationship? With whom?“. Naoya stops in front of you, taking a step closer to you: „Do not play dumb. I am speaking of Suguru Geto!“. „I swear I do not know whom you are talking about. I have not heard of a so called `Suguru Geto´ except in lady Whistledown’s article, I do not even know what he looks like.“. „Oh sister, this will not do so let me rephrase my question. The raven haired man I saw you staring at earlier - what is your relation to him?“. You scoff at his ridiculousness, deciding it is enough you make way for the hallway. „I am tired of this nonsense so I will return on my own.“. Stepping in, Naoya threatens you: „You will not or else I will share my suspicions with the rest of the family and ruin your very being like no-one else will. So tell me, are you involved in an affair with this man?“. „No, i am not involved with this man or anyone. I would not ever dare to even think about adultery. Are you content now?“. „No, no, no… then why was there a bush all over you? This usually only happens when two parties engaged in improper activities before…“. „Or this happens out of embarrassment. Embarrassment of him catching me staring.“. „But that is exactly what I was talking about? If you keep avoiding me, then I am afraid you leave me no there choice but to walk up to-„.

Luckily your father disrupts the two of you tough upon seeing the anger splashed across his face, you consider yourself not so lucky anymore: „Young lady just what do you think you are doing here? Catching some fresh air? Or rather having a chat with your brother? Whatever it is ends now and so does your reckless behavior. Just this morning I thought you will not cause commotion for once, but I was disappointed yet again. You missed the announcement - missed the chance of becoming the diamond and making up for all your missteps along the way. This will have consequences; for the both of you! Naoya you should only fetch her so why did I end up doing it myself instead?“. Naoya is the first to speak up: „I am sorry father, but she just threw a fit and got me involved into this. I am innocent, I swear!“. „Spare all your excuses for later, when we will discuss this thoroughly. Now let us return to the hall and fetch your mother. She already took over and congratulated the diamond in our name.“. Leaving you no option, he drags you down the hall way and into the ballroom to fetch your mother rather quickly before scurrying off into the carriage. The carriage ride home is filled with your father’s rage on what happened at the announcement. Your mother sits in silence besides him, disappointment all across her face and it does not seem to leave until hours later. Once your father finished with scolding you and your brother, you apologize thoroughly without trying to explain yourself as it will not change the situation for the better. Instead it will only worsen it, potentially earning you more punishment. When nothing else is left to say, your mother rises from her seat and takes word: „Although it was quite disappointing you were not elected as diamond of the season for obvious reasons, this situation does have it’s positive aspects. While I was engaging in conversations earlier, in the over heard people’s whispers about you. It seems that you have received the title of ´the emerald of the season´ from society. Many were mesmerized by you, at least that is what I heard duke Nanami say.“. Your fathers sour expression lifts to one a little lighter: „Well if that is not a pleasant surprise. So then you may get ready for we have to present the emerald at duke Gojo’s ball.“. With that you are dismissed from this family’s gathering, allowing you to get ready for the masquerade ball ahead. Though this time everything ran quicker and more smoothly.

So you find yourself in the carriage once more, this time though on your way to the Gojo estate. The ride itself is not as suffocating as the one before, letting you relax a little for all the dancing that will happen soon enough. Several minutes later you find yourself switching between conversations and dances with potential suitors. But not one who catches your eyes in sight, much to your disappointment. Otherwise everything is well; no man causes some sort of commotion by misbehavior and no one is making you uncomfortable. So far a good start into festivities. Engaging in social activities like this one does tire you out, you need to admit. So in order to clear your mind a bit and regain some energy, you decide to take a quick stroll around the hallways of the estate. You are aware that this behavior is not accepted in society but no one is there to catch or judge you because they are in fact all present inside the ballroom. So when you see a pair of doors ajar, you pay no mind and enter quickly. Inside your met with shelves full of books. And before you can skim through some,  you light a few candles to be able to read. What you do not see though is someone slipping inside behind you, keeping watchful gaze on your every move.

a/n: publishing the first chapter has been a wild ride y'all - from my laptop not allowing me to copy and paste to tumblr being a lil' bitch about the format of the text. i had like seven mental breakdowns until I could finally publish lol 🥹 - but @fushitoru was there to save my ass. thank you looks - I appreciate you looking out for me🫶🏻. now on to the other matter; I added a taglist. so if you want to be added please notify or message me - don't be shy 😌

taglist: @tiramisuandlove @gojouology @not-ur-average-fangirl /taglist is open!

[heda-heather]

I’ve seen some confusion in all spaces.

Look, I don’t know if she’s coming out. But I never really believed she’d come out during the set dates of the Eras Tour (even if I wanted her to— mostly just wanted her to drop 🏈).

But the whole point of the tour was to give everyone one last souvenir. She was never going to NOT give the last show attendees the same show everyone’s been raving about for 2 years.

I think the surprise songs held a message. I think there’s more to the story, but I think she’s made one thing clear: TS is going to do whatever she wants to do and none of us are going to be able to predict it. 😂