#like these people going ‘she’s basically Taylor swift’ like NO baby girl

[poisonoyous]

It’s fine if you don’t like Chappell Roan’s music but I haven’t seen one person express as much without getting weird and morally righteous about it and I 100% guarantee you that’s bc she’s a lesbian.

[gracerings]

lestat somehow ends up having beef with taylor swift because she released the 15th version of her new album the same day the vampire lestat album came out and made it go number two on the charts. his fans are mad and they say she’s not a ‘girl’s girl’ because they think lestat is secretly using she/her pronouns. this causes MAD discourse on twitter because people say lestans (official name of his fandom) are co-opting struggles of real trans/genderqueer artists and that lestat is clearly just a cis white man who thinks his aesthetic is cool and hip with the times but he’s actually super cringe. lestat has killed his pr team so he tweets himself in response to the drama and says that mademoiselle swiftié is a perfectly fine musician but she’s basically a baby compared to his long relationship with music. swifties ratio him on twitter calling him ‘an old queen’ and ‘world’s worst father’ (this is because they read international bestseller interview with the vampire). lestat has an emotional breakdown and cries for three days and he eats his makeup artist for making him look old. his producers are desperate and they ask daniel molloy to fix him because daniel is the unofficial vampire therapist now. vampire daniel’s idea of fixing lestat is to go on a blood bender with him. somehow this works because in between victims daniel tells lestat to stop being a little bitch and grow the fuck up. here lestat understands for the first time why daniel and louis are friends and asks daniel to telepathically call louis for him because he needs him. daniel tells him to eat shit. as they return to lestat’s shack (yes he still lives there when he’s not touring) they find out that swifties have doxxed him and showed up to the shack to ravage it. lestat starts crying again while daniel falls over himself laughing and records everything and posts it on tiktok. armand likes the video 0.3 seconds after it’s posted. throughout all of this louis is on a beach somewhere enjoying a quiet night, he telepathically asks daniel how lestat’s doing and daniel tells him to not even worry about it.

[freelancearsonist]

in shades of gray and candlelight

➔ Marcus Pike x fem!Reader - 7.2k

➔ Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

➔ Rated MA for artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily [please let me know if i missed any at all :)]

➔ this is my (first 😈) submission to @beskarandblasters Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! i really did mean for this to be a drabble especially since i didn't know anything about marcus before receiving this prompt but he has my whole fucking heart and mind now 😩 thank you so much for the challenge lovely kel, and special thank u to my baby @fhatbhabie for betaing and screaming with me ily <3 (dividers by the amazing and talented @saradika-graphics)

You meet Marcus Pike on a Friday night and it’s obvious from the start that he’s going to change your life forever.

He looks a little disheveled when he enters the gallery–brown hair ruffled and standing up in places, tie loose, top shirt button undone. There’s an alluring five o’clock shadow burgeoning across his jaw and cheeks. He looks like he’s had a long day, and it’s only going to get longer. It’s all part of the plan, of course. He’s supposed to look like a standard blue collar worker, and he pulls it off with ease.

It’s the exhibition’s opening night, so it’s a little more packed than the gallery normally would be. It works in his favor–he’s able to collect a plastic cup of champagne from the refreshment table and blend seamlessly into the crowd.

His eyes are diligent as they scan the faces that come and go. He tries to commit them all to memory–the tall woman with the slight limp, the short guy wearing the Hawaiian patterned shirt. There’s dozens of people that pass by, and so many of them are forgettable. It’s exhibitions like these that make him dread undercover work.

The art on the walls isn’t exceptional, but it’s not bad. Nothing that seems worth stealing, that’s for sure. But his source is good, and his source said that this place was getting hit tonight. So he keeps his watchful eyes vigilant and pretends to sip the champagne in his hand.

Until he finds your exhibit.

There’s a depth to your art that he’s come to be familiar with–something he sees often in work of high value. Anyone can make abstract art, it’s as simple as flicking paint at a canvas. But few can charge it as emotionally as you have. To convey feeling and passion and heart through abstraction is a separate art form all its own, and it’s one you’ve mastered.

He’s seen original Rothko’s, Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s; he’s held their frames in his own two hands. But nothing’s ever made his breath hitch in his throat quite the way yours does.

He stands in front of a canvas simply labeled “Waves In Motion” with your name printed neatly underneath, brow creased with a concentration that seems a little unnecessary given the subject matter of the painting. It’s all shades of blue and violet, swirling together in a way that seems partly sensuous, partly violent. It makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle, and he takes a step closer. That’s when he notices it: a single dot of red paint right in the middle, a focal point of all the swirling cobalts. So small that he wouldn’t notice it if he wasn’t close; so small it could almost be interpreted as a mistake.

But he knows without having to ask that it’s not an answer. He wonders who that dot represents: you, the artist? Most likely.

Without meaning to, he smiles. It’s been a long time, years really, since a piece of art provoked such thought. 

“Hi.”

The voice Marcus hears next to him is soft, dulcet. He doesn’t turn to the noise quickly–from the tone in that word alone he senses a hesitance, as if you’re a fawn that’s lost its mother and you’re bound to run if he makes any sudden movements.

And, truth be told, part of him thinks he might not be able to look away even if he tried right now. There’s something so beautiful about this painting–and underneath, something so ominous. There’s an air about the work that says he might unlock the secrets of the universe if he just keeps looking.

“Hi there.” He keeps his eyes trained on “Waves In Motion” as he responds–playing the game. He’s here to brush shoulders, after all; to be the right amount of forgettable yet memorable. 

“This is my best, I think,” you murmur while taking a step closer. “It took the least time of all of them, surprisingly. But… I think when you know exactly what you’re trying to convey, it just comes to you easily.”

“These are yours?” There’s admiration in his eyes and an air of something akin to disbelief in his voice as he takes in the group of canvases proudly displayed on the plain white gallery walls.

And then he turns and lets himself take you in. More specifically the curling strand of hair that falls out of your updo to frame your face, the deeply plunging neckline of your dress, the way your calf muscles work even standing still in your high-heeled shoes. You’re a work of art in your own right; the most beautiful piece he’s seen in a long time.

“Yeah.” You duck your head–shyly, modestly–and he’s hooked. There’s one thing in this building that deserves awe and reverence more than your painting, and it’s you. “You know, you’re only the second person who’s come over tonight.”

“No way. They’re all just working their way back here,” he whispers before he can calculate a more articulate response.

But it works in his favor–your giggle is gorgeous, if a sound can be described that way. Sweet and syrupy, it seeps over him as if he’s standing under a cracked honeycomb. He hasn’t actually taken a drink of his champagne, and yet he can feel his nervous system tingling. You’re just that intoxicating.

“The gallery closes in half an hour,” you tell him–a little wistfully at that. “In my defense, I don’t have any family or friends in the area. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to show, not with so many other talented artists here.”

It seems so indignantly unfair to Marcus. That you’re shoved into the far back corner of the gallery, that people haven’t come in droves from all over the country to see your work.

“Where are you from?” He asks as his mind finally starts to clear from the haze it’s been in the past few minutes. With only half an hour left on the job, he allows himself a small sip of the drink that he’s been cradling all night.

“New York. This is actually only my second exhibition,” you explain, and you almost sound shy about it; as if you need to be embarrassed about being young and fresh-faced in the art industry, as if you aren’t the most talented artist Marcus has ever met in person.

He hums in response, eyes unconsciously dragging over you once more. “You came a long way for this.”

You smile so prettily up at him, and in that moment he sees something in your eyes. He can’t describe it–maybe it’s something akin to longing. Something incomplete, unexplored. It’s familiar; it’s the red dot from your painting. Solitary amidst the swirling, lost yet not hopeless.

And just like your painting, he finds himself wanting to get lost in your eyes.

“Well, it’s not every day a gallery wants to host you,” you say after another sip of your drink. “Plus, I’ve never been to Texas before, and I needed a change of scenery.”

There’s something so charming, so boyishly intoxicating about the smile he graces you with. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s hotter than I’m used to,” you say with a chuckle that he echoes. “And I haven’t been able to do any exploring yet, my flight only got in a couple hours before I had to be here.”

“That’s a shame,” he hums in a tone that reveals deeper meaning. “How long are you here for? Do you have any plans?”

“A week,” you murmur. Subconsciously he leans in closer, on the edge of his proverbial seat. To seal the deal, you lean in too. “And not a damned one.”

There’s no air between you and Marcus. You exist in a vacuum for this moment–unable to breathe, choking on anticipation. He’s so close, yet way too far away. You want to be consumed by him–for him to be swirling blue; and you, a single speck of red in his midst.

The moment shatters with an audible sound–a deep, penetrating voice. “He’s still not here, huh? I don’t think your boyfriend’s coming. If he even exists.” There’s something strange in the raspy voice that drawls these words–something strange enough to immediately put Marcus on the alert.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion into your vacuum, but you recover quickly. You have to, because this intrusive stranger is standing way too close and has way too much alcohol on his breath.

And then something strange happens–you worm your arm around Marcus’s waist and press yourself firmly into his side.

“Actually, he’s right here,” you say. There’s a quality to your voice that wasn’t there before when you were just talking to Marcus–it’s firm, clipped, bordering on hostile. “He just got held up at work. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Thankfully, Marcus has always been one to think quickly on his feet. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, unconsciously moving an inch or two in front of you. Protecting without really meaning to. “I’m sorry, honey. I got here as soon as I could.”

The man–burly and balding, probably a good twenty years older than you–scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

“Is there a problem here?” Marcus draws up to his full height–towering a good few inches over this strange intruder.

Whoever this guy is, he’s not completely stupid. He senses this isn’t going to be a fight he’ll win, so he backs off. “Not at all, man. Just didn’t want little miss standing here all alone the whole night.”

“Thanks,” you say with bitter reprehension. You wind even closer to Marcus–closer than this sudden farce demands. “But we’re fine now.”

He nods once–curt and unhappy, but seemingly satisfied that he’s not going to get what he wants. “Have a good night, ma’am. Sir.”

Marcus takes a mental inventory of the man as he storms off, committing his physical description and his outfit to memory. He doesn’t look like a casual art viewer, and he doesn’t look like a collector. He’s exactly the type that Marcus came here to look out for.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you step out of Marcus’s personal space. “He’s been hovering all night, asking me who I’m going home with and shit.”

“That’s the other guy who came over to talk to you?” It brings a deep frown to his face, a crease forming between his brows. It certainly raises a red flag–if the guy has any eye for value, of course he would be drawn to your exhibit. And if he has an eye for value, he could be the guy Marcus came for.

“Yeah.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly and avert your gaze, as if you should be embarrassed for drawing that guy’s attention. “It’s not been the greatest night.”

Marcus hates that. He hates that you came all this way to be let down, that this is only your second exhibition and you’ve had such a bad experience with it. More than anything, he hates that he can still see the spark in your eyes when you look up at him, and he can tell that it’s dimmed.

“Gimme just a minute.”

He doesn’t mean to be so abrupt, but he wants to make it quick. He hustles to the single-stall men’s room and tugs the radio out of his inside jacket pocket to call in the man’s description. Then he turns it off, tucks it back into its concealed pocket, and goes over to the sink.

He thought he looked perfect for the part he had to play when he left his house to come here. Now, he’s too disheveled. He wets his fingertips and tries to tame the mess on top of his head; he re-buttons his shirt and tightens his tie. He looks flustered, and he’s not even surprised by it. You’ve got his heart pounding with anticipation in a way he doesn’t think it ever has before.

Butterflies fluttering on in his stomach, he emerges from the restroom to resume his position by your side.

Except you’re not by your exhibit anymore, and the crowd has thinned considerably. He checks his watch and realizes there’s only five minutes before the gallery closes for the night. Maybe you’ve decided to cut your losses and leave early.

He hates the way his gut twists with disappointment, but then he reminds himself that he didn’t come here for you. He’s working, and he needs to stay vigilant. No distractions, no complications.

“You’re still here.”

There’s a wave of relief that washes over him as he hears your voice, and this time he’s not too timid to turn towards you. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Thought I might’ve scared you off.” There’s a fresh cup of champagne in your hand and a hint of vulnerability in your voice, and it makes his heart pick up pace just the slightest bit. You duck your head–that shy, modest gesture again. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just done that without permission.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells you, more earnestly than he’s ever said anything in his life. “I didn’t mind at all, I swear. Just had to hit the head.”

You look so deeply into his eyes he almost wonders if you aren’t looking through him. But whatever you find, you must like it.

He clears his throat and tries to not show how thoroughly unraveled he is by your gaze. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus.” You pause for a moment, and he can tell that there’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue–so he remains silent in hopes of drawing it out.

“Do you have someone to go home to?”

There it is–the invitation he was both dreading and hoping for. He should really lie. He’s here on a job, after all–he’s supposed to avoid complications, and some instinct tells him you’re going to be much more than a simple distraction. But he’s told you the truth so far, and he doesn’t want to stop now.

“No. No, I don’t.”

This is everything that Marcus has never even considered doing. It’s late, it’s dark, it’s a little chilly for spring in Austin. The alley is grimey and drafty–your hair blows in the breeze even as you kneel down before him.

All he can do is stand there, dumbstruck with his back up against the rough brick wall, and stare down at you. 

He’s still breathless from the way you’ve been kissing him–all heat and passion, fire and brimstone. Your hands ran through his hair and undid the effort he put in while in the bathroom, and his hands clutched your waist in a futile attempt to ground himself. Your lips are so soft; he thinks he could kiss you forever and never get tired of it. He was certainly planning on finding out, until you dropped to your knees in front of him.

“You… you don’t have to–”

But the way you look up at him through your lashes makes his throat close up around whatever protest he was going to try.

“I want to,” you assure him–more of a purr than a spoken statement.

And this really isn’t the place. He shouldn’t let you do this here. But he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t make him harden in his boring gray work slacks.

Marcus has never been about excitement. He’s always strayed to the comfortable and familiar–he falls into the sweet, caring companion role with grace and ease.

And tonight doesn’t have to be that different. If you’re going to suck his dick in a dark, dingey alley, he’ll let you. But he’s going to lay his jacket down on the ground so you don’t scrape up your knees first.

You keen at the thoughtful gesture and grace him with a grateful smile as your adept fingers work his belt open. He’s straining against the seam of his pants now, begging for the attention that your gaze promises him.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think you’re every bit as eager to get his trousers and boxers down as he is.

And Lord help him, he delights in the gasp you emit when his cock springs free from its confines.

“Fuck, Marcus.” Your lips actually part as you freeze for a moment, just taking him in. He’s thick, maybe an inch longer than average, swollen head peeking through uncut skin as if begging for your waiting mouth. He curves to the left just a little bit, and you can almost see his pulse thrumming through the prominent vein that runs along the length of him.

“S’not that impressive,” he mumbles, and you know that he knows that he’s full of shit.

Your fingers almost don’t wrap all the way around him, and suddenly you’re second-guessing this back alley stint, too. You want him in bed. You want him deep inside you, kissing your face as he fucks you, hands all over your body, thrusts hard yet slow. You want it languid, you want it desperate, you want it any way he’ll give it to you. You don’t want to blow him and say goodbye.

He calculates your hesitation as something other than pure unadulterated lust, and he lifts your chin gently with his index and middle fingers.

“Hey, we don’t have to–”

Again, you cut him off–this time, by dragging your tongue from the seam of his balls all the way along his length to swirl messily around his tip. You taste every heady inch of him and then moan at the salty foreshadowing on your tongue when you catch a droplet of precum leaking from his slit.

Your hand springs into action with a long, slow stroke along his cock, and then you sink your mouth around him and he moans. Without caution or pretense, like you’re not in an alley that anyone could walk down at any moment. It’s a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be and his head thumps back against the brick wall hard enough to hurt, and even still he’s never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure before in his life.

Your nose meets the neat patch of hair at his base and your free hand comes up to his hip, effectively pinning him against the wall when he tries to buck greedily even further into your mouth.

No one’s ever taken him so relentlessly before. You’re insistent, pressing onward even as you gag on his length, and it makes his balls tighten in a way he’s never felt before. It’s like you’re hungry for him; like you’re doing this more for your own pleasure than for his.

Marcus Pike has been a giver his whole life. Tonight, with you, he finally decides to take.

He’d be embarrassed about how fast he comes if you weren’t so eager for it. You moan around him and push yourself as deep as you can, throat working around him desperately not to choke on the size of him. Before he can warn you he’s spilling into your mouth, maybe more than he’s ever come before, thick and salty but undeniably sweet too. You allow yourself a moment to savor him as he pulses in your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head of him in a way that makes him shiver and whine.

He’s panting, nearly light-headed, when you finally pull off of him and press one last gentle kiss over his slit.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, because there’s nothing else to say.

You giggle, and he realizes with a strange wistfulness that he would do anything to keep this girl–a girl he’s just met, a girl who’s leaving to go back to her home on the other side of the country in just a week–smiling and laughing the way she is now.

“My hotel is only a couple blocks away,” you tell him as he helps you to your feet. “Would you like a nightcap?”

You pick up his jacket and dust the grime off it–it makes him chuckle. Everything about this encounter has flown in the face of what he’s used to. 

He’s never felt so alive.

“I would love a nightcap.”

Your senses wake up slower than normal.

First it’s your eyes–they tune in on the bright mid-sunrise light streaming through the open balcony blinds on the far wall. It falls in slivers and shards over the rumpled white hotel-standard bedding–the second thing your senses tune into. Everything is so soft and light, but it’s a little cold too. Especially the other side of the bed; there’s no heat remaining there at all.

You push yourself up with a grunt and let the sheets fall away from your bare torso, tired eyes scanning around the room. You notice clothes scattered all over the floor while your ears wake up enough to hear water running in the bathroom, and you can’t help the involuntary smile that spreads over your face. He’s still here.

Marcus lets the too-hot water wash over him in scalding waves, muscles still a little sore after a long night tangled together with you.

He checked his phone first thing this morning, and the gallery was quiet all night. They think the suspect he radioed in was the guy they were looking for, but they weren’t able to apprehend him. The running theory is that he might’ve recognized Marcus and decided low-value art wasn’t worth the hassle, but one guess is as good as the next until they can bait and catch the guy.

It’s the weekend now, and Marcus is thanking his lucky stars. Not only does he have a successful mission to celebrate, but he has the most beautiful woman in the world to celebrate it with.

He emerges after a few minutes, wet hair messily scattered over his forehead and wide hips straining against a low-slung hotel towel. He’s a languid Saturday morning wet dream on two legs.

“G’morning,” he hums with a smile–he doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes dip down to hungrily take in your naked torso.

“Good morning, Marcus.”

He stalks towards you slowly, eyes darkening with each advancing step. It doesn’t take more than a second to realize he didn’t get his fill of your body last night, but you’re certainly not complaining.

He’s already starting to harden as he drops his towel and crawls over the foot of the bed, surging forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. If last night was desperation and passion, this morning is syrupy and sweet. He explores your mouth slowly, tongue sweeping between your lips and tracing every curve and ridge he can–almost like he’s trying to commit you to memory.

There are universes in the depths of his dark eyes. He may not say exactly what he’s thinking, but you can see it playing out in those baby browns of his. There’s something simmering underneath the surface–something more than just lust or desire.

Something dangerous.

You tug him closer and cup his face in your hands, enjoying the gentle scratch of morning stubble underneath your palms. He surges forward and presses you into the pillows as he settles himself comfortably between your spread legs. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs through kisses scattered along the length of your jaw.

You know you probably look like you got run over by a bus–you toss and turn in your sleep, and it always leaves your hair a matted mess. And that’s not even mentioning the slight tremble in your thighs, left over from Marcus’s enthusiastic attention last night. But there’s so much sincerity in his voice; you don’t think he would waste his breath saying it if he didn’t mean it, and that fact alone makes your heart pound with desire.

There’s a syrupy slowness to the way he moves down your body, lips leaving behind heavy wet kisses as he works down your chest and over your stomach.

And it’s almost like he senses the protest working its way up your throat when you feel his hot breath on your thighs, because he looks up at you and there’s sternness in his gaze. You got your fill last night, and now it’s his turn.

“May I?” He looks up at you from the apex of your thighs with big, round puppy eyes that are impossible to refuse–so you nod eagerly and don’t even try.

If you were eager to have him in your mouth last night, he’s desperate.

There’s no hesitation, no build-up. It’s almost aggressive, the way he buries his face in your heat. He laps like a dog at a bowl, hips canting into the mattress involuntarily as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growls into your sopping cunt. “You taste incredible.”

You keen at the praise and card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the damp, spiky strands when his tongue laves heavily over your sensitive clit.

Marcus’s greedy hands grip underneath your thighs and push them as far as you can comfortably spread them. You’re still so sensitive after at least three orgasms last night–you lost count after a point–and it serves to wind your nerves tighter than they’ve ever been wound before.

One hand slides to the junction of your thigh and his thumb comes to take over the pressure on your clit as his tongue plunges between your soaked folds. It’s even more overwhelming like this, and there’s not a thing in the world that you want to do more than let him have his fun. Especially when that hand and his tongue switch spots–his lips seal and suck around your clit while he presses two achingly thick fingers into your waiting entrance.

It actually makes your muscles tighten and your back rise off the bed as he curls his fingers just right to find that spot that makes you fall apart for him. 

He can tell you’re getting close–he’s already so intune with the way your muscles twitch, the change of pitch in your moans. You whine and cry for him the tighter he winds the rubberband, and he’s eager to make it snap.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says over the overwhelming flutter of his fingers scissoring and curling inside you. “Let me have it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut so tightly as pleasure wracks through your body that you can see constellations. Large hands come to pin your thighs open as his tongue keeps working, lapping and gliding against your cunt with ease as a wave of arousal gushes from your entrance.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, and he’s just getting started.

He trails open-mouthed kisses up your body as you catch your breath–his slick-soaked lips coat your skin with your own arousal as he works his way up to allow you a taste of yourself.

The first wet lick of his tongue into your mouth makes you moan. It’s not the first time you’ve tasted your own slick–you’ve had a moment or two of curiosity–but it’s never been quite as enjoyable as it is on his tongue. It pairs so perfectly with the minty tang of toothpaste left on his breath and makes you hungry for more.

He moves fluidly under your direction as you push him onto his back and roll to straddle his lap all in one graceful movement. It’s perfect like this–he doesn’t have to support his weight so he can run his big meaty hands all over every inch of you, and you can kiss him as deep as you want while you grind down on his aching length.

“Shit, baby,” he pants against your lips. Those aforementioned beefy palms grasp hard at your asscheeks to guide your hips, pulling you into a slow, long grind that bumps the head of his cock against your clit deliciously.

Your pulse thrums with desperation until you’re seeing white–no more teasing, no more preamble. You take his girth in your hand and give him a firm stroke; if you had a little more presence of mind, you might be embarrassed at how wet his dick is simply from grinding against you for a few seconds.

“Go ahead, baby, take it when you’re ready.”

He gasps at the first press of his cockhead against your entrance, head flopping back against the pillows as his hands squeeze your asscheeks with bruising force.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he murmurs, throat working around a thick gulp. “You can take it baby, I know you can. Did so good for me last night.”

You think you would honestly do anything he asks of you so long as he just keeps talking like this.

It takes a moment for you to work your way down his length–he’s so mouth-wateringly thick and the curve of his cock hits the most delicious spot inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Atta girl,” he praises breathlessly as your hips settle flush against his. “Just sit there for a minute. So pretty on my dick.”

God, he makes your entire body flush with heat. He turns your blood to molten lava with his words, lighting every inch of skin on fire. You’ve never felt a sensation like this–so overwhelming yet so intoxicating.

You start with slow movements as his hands trace up and down your sides sweetly–it’s more like you’re grinding on him than anything else. His thumbs rub abstract little patterns into your skin as his hands work up to your tits; when he finally takes them in the palms of his hands and squeezes all pretense of soft, sweet morning-after sex flies out the window.

You drop down hard on his cock and it nearly punches the wind out of him. 

“Yes!” He growls darkly. His eyes flash with something dangerous–it’s the only warning you get before his hand slaps the meat of your ass and grabs a greedy handful. “Just like that baby, use my fuckin’ dick.”

And maybe, if he was someone else, you wouldn’t be nearly as eager to follow instructions. But with Marcus, you’re nothing if not obedient.

Last night was exploration and discovery–hours into the early morning spent learning each other’s bodies, finding what makes the other squirm and whine and beg. This morning is in perfect juxtaposition to that sweet, soft, probing sex–you know what drives each other crazy now, and you each use it to your advantage. Aggressively.

He surges up to suck a pert nipple into his mouth as you set a hard pace on him, long fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He lands another sharp smack to your ass when your thighs start to shake–a reward for using his cock exactly how he asked.

”M-Marcus—”

”I know, sweetheart,” he purrs through a guttural moan. He cants his hips up to meet your thrusts at just the right moment—he hits something so devastatingly pleasurable that your vision prickles white around the edges. “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? It’s okay, you can let go. Come for me.”

There’s a condescending note to his voice that only makes you squeeze harder around his cock, and within seconds you’re hurtling uncontrollably into ecstasy.

He fucks you through the telltale fluttering of your cunt even when your hips stop moving; strong hands hold you in place and work you through the ebbing waves of pleasure that wrack through your entire body.

”M’so close, honey,” he grunts with a particularly sharp thrust upward. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Where do you want me?”

”I-inside,” you gasp. “Come inside me, Marcus.”

He fills you as soon as he has your instruction—hard thrusts punctuated by breathy moans as he pumps you full of his release.

There’s a long, silent moment where Marcus pulls your bare chest tightly against his own and you pant into the crook of his neck while trying desperately to even-out your breathing. His fingertips dance across your skin-feather-light, soothing.

The sun is higher in the sky now and meets your eyes with blinding rays through the balcony shutters when they finally open again.

”That was amazing, honey,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. He’s caught his own breath now, but he doesn’t make any attempt to let you go. “How’re you so perfect?”

”M’not perfect,” you mumble into his shoulder; but even to your own ears, it sounds half-hearted. The truth is, he’s so earnestly honest that you believe him.

He hums his dissent with a kiss pressed to your hairline. ”You are to me.”

And you so desperately want to believe him that you don’t even try to argue.

You bask in this warm, lovely afterglow for a few moments longer before Marcus gently taps your hip. ”Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll buy you breakfast.”

You pull off of his softened cock with a whine and try not to get worked up all over again at the feeling of his cum leaking down your thighs. ”Th-there’s a free continental breakfast downstairs.”

”Oh, then I’ll definitely pick up the tab,” he jokes with a smirk—all you want to do is kiss his goofy, stupidly handsome face.

He pulls you into the bathroom and starts the water running to fill the tub—he’s never really been a bath guy, but your legs are a little too shaky to endure a shower. He’s so attentive—from running a damp cloth between your legs to helping lower you into the water. He doesn’t complain in the slightest when you catch his hand and ask him to join you; he just shuffles you forward and slides in behind you like it’s a casual act that he performs with every hookup.

It’s intimate. That’s really the only way to describe it. You sit between his spread legs, back to his chest, head rested back against his shoulder while his fingers ghost idle paths over your skin. You don’t talk; you don’t really need to. Somehow, you fit together like souls who have known each other for years. Like all you’ve been missing is each other.

You drift off in his arms as he traces soap over all the curves and ridge of your body, the steady beat of his heart thumping in your ear.

It breaks his heart a little bit to wake you—the fact that you’re so comfortable with him, that you trust him with such vulnerability, makes his head spin a little bit. But the water’s turning cold, and the last thing he wants is for you to come down sick or something.

He rouses you with gentle, feathery kisses scattered over your rosy-scented shoulders and neck.

”Mmm… what time is it?” You grumble, pressing your sleep-addled face further into the crook of his neck.

”Just after noon,” he whispers into your hair after glancing up at the clock on the wall.

He can feel the way your mouth shifts into a pout. “Shit. We missed breakfast.”

The adorable downward tilt of your frown as you lift your dad to look at him makes his heart flutter. “Let’s go out, then. The first farmer’s market of the season is going on downtown. I’m sure we can find something good for brunch.”

”Kinda sounds like you’re asking me on a date,” you hum with a slight smirk dancing at your lips.

”Maybe I am.” His tone is light, his meaning clear—he knows this goes beyond a one-night stand, and there’s no harm done if you’re not wanting to cross this boundary. He’d understand not wanting to get too serious about someone who lives thousands of miles away from your home, of course. He’d never blame you.

You give him your best appraising look, staring deep into those constellation-filled brown eyes. ”You’re not sick of me yet?”

”I have a feeling I couldn’t get sick of you if I tried.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone, in his eyes. He genuinely wants to spend time with you, even if there’s nowhere for this to really go.

You hum thoughtfully. “I do love farmer’s markets.”

You’re with Marcus more often than not over the course of the next week.

He takes you sightseeing to some of his favorite spots around Austin, brings you to his favorite restaurants, shows you his favorite movies. But he multitasks—while teaching you about himself, he learns as much as he can about you and picks activities he knows you’ll love, too. 

He’s a pragmatist; he knows your time together is short, and he wants to make himself unforgettable. If he never sees you again, he wants you to think about him every once in a while and look back on this time fondly.

You spend your days while Marcus is at work painting or drawing or lingering around the gallery, and you fall asleep in his arms every night. With shades of gray moonlight and candlelight cast over your hotel room, it almost feels like this could go on forever.

He tells you to wear something nice before he picks you up on the last night–he wants to celebrate in style, which starts with reservations at an up-scale restaurant. 

He’s so achingly handsome. He’s in a matching gray suit over a white button-up, top two buttons undone and no tie to be seen. His face bears the slightest five o’clock shadow and your eyes gravitate to the curve of his lips–the instant smile that takes over his face when those gorgeous brown eyes of his land on you.

If you never see him again, this is exactly how you want to remember him.

“Wow,” he whispers reverently. “You look amazing.”

It’s not the most impressive dress you own, but he looks at you like you’re wearing something worth millions–like you’re worth millions.

You lean up and kiss him, and everything feels right. His hands rest on your waist and it’s so easy to pretend that you won’t be on the other side of the country twenty-four hours from now.

The restaurant is beautiful. Dimly lit and romantic, tables spaced enough to give you some privacy. He takes your hand on top of the table and holds it the entire meal. The conversation is light and airy–you’re both stubbornly dancing around what really needs to be said.

Dessert is cleared and the wine bottle is empty by the time Marcus finally works up the courage to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“I don’t want you to go.”

You knew this would be coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier. You avert your gaze, instead focusing on his large hand wrapped around yours and the windshield wiper motion of his thumb tracing back and forth over your palm. No one’s touch has ever sent such electric tingles through your nervous system the way his does.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all.

“Look, I…” He takes a deep breath and straightens his spine a little bit, hand leaving yours to gently cup your chin. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he breaks your heart. “I think this could really be something, if we gave it a shot.”

You haven’t lied to him yet, and you don’t plan to start now. “I… I think it could, too. If I didn’t have to go back.”

“Don’t go back then.” There’s a firmness to his voice, but it couldn’t be any more obvious that he’s begging if he actually got down on his knees. “Stay here with me. We’ll figure this out. Just… don’t go.”

And here–with his earnest eyes on yours and his gentle, loving touch on your skin–it’s easy to pretend that it’s that simple.

He takes you back to your hotel room and sheds you easily out of your dress. As cliche as it sounds, it’s not just sex this time. Things that it’s too early to say are buried deep within every kiss, every thrust. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and looks deeply into your eyes while he fills you and you’ve never felt so overwhelmingly connected.

The thud of his heartbeat is insistent in your ear as you come down from your high–so calming, so heartbreaking. You lay on his chest while his breathing evens out and soak up these last few moments of bliss. And then, once you’re sure he’s sound asleep, you carefully worm out of his grip. There’s one more thing you have to do before you go back to New York.

Loud, insistent ringing pulls Marcus from the depths of sleep. He tries to ignore it and go back to sleep, but now that his senses are alert, the sound in combination with bright Saturday morning sunlight won’t allow him the luxury. He presses his face deeper into the pillow that he’s somehow wound himself around in his sleep, but that damned ringing won’t stop.

He sits up slowly and tries to rub the sleep from his eyes–and that’s when he notices the empty sheets next to him. Your side of the bed is long cold, and he knows. Before he even sees the note on the dresser and your room key next to it, he knows you’re gone.

He finds his trousers discarded halfway between the bed and the door and pulls his blaring phone out of the pocket.

“The gallery got hit sometime early this morning. They took everything. Every goddamn piece. You need to get here now.”

His body moves on autopilot as he pulls yesterday’s clothes back on, fingers numb to all sensation as they work to button his shirt. This can’t be happening. It can’t be you.

He notices the note on the dresser as he’s threading his belt through the loops of his trousers, and his gut twists with a sickening sense of foreboding.

I really did fall for you, Marcus. But nothing good starts in a getaway car.

He’s not sure if you knew who he was the whole time and this whole thing was calculated, or if you just got lucky. He doesn’t want to believe you’re that cunning and cruel. He wants to believe that this is just a misunderstanding, that you’re out for ice or something and you’ll walk back through the door at any moment.

But you don’t.

The note is enough of a confession for him. He’ll have the power of the FBI on his side to find you–and he will find you. What he’ll do when he does, he’s not sure. He guesses he’ll know when he sees you.

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[here-comes-the-moose]

Bad Batch Modern AU Headcanons Under the Cut

Echo

Does not like red wine. It gives him a headache and heartburn (he’s just like me fr).

Plans Friday Fundays with Omega after she gets out of school.

Great at cooking and baking, but absolutely needs to follow the recipe. If he’s tries to improvise or experiment, the food is not edible at all.

Can flawlessly do a shot with no hands.

Has done a keg stand.

Before the loss of his limbs, he used to NEVER get hungover, no matter how much he drank. Even now, his hangovers are pretty mild. He’s just built different.

Was recruited to be one of the room parents for Omega’s class.

The only one who can get through to Crosshair when his mental health gets really bad.

Has their house decorated like the most stereotypical suburban mom. I’m talking Live Laugh Love signs, a beach-themed bathroom, so many throw pillows and blankets that you can barely sit, a rotation on of seasonal decor, the list goes on.

Hunter

Cannot sing for shit.

The king of dad jokes.

Has absolutely no fashion sense. Negative drip. He’s wearing socks and sandals unironically.

World’s worst cook. Managed to burn and undercook a pancake. Gave Crosshair food poisoning.

Banned from grilling after he set all the food they got for their 4th of July barbecue on fire.

Gets migraines. He gets extremely sensitive to sound and smells.

The only person Crosshair lets look after him when he isn’t feeling well.

Views expiration dates as suggestions. Somehow has never gotten sick.

Constantly going on Tinder dates.

Tech

Total chick magnet.

Does not realize this.

Constantly drives over the speed limit (except in school zones) but miraculously has never gotten a speeding ticket.

Best at making cocktails.

The most intense one about making sure they all eat healthy.

His shoulders and neck get really tense, from sitting at a computer and from carrying most of his stress there.

Does not like crispy bacon.

Wrecker

Grill master.

Actually great at cooking and baking. He can improvise and experiment with ease and the food comes out even better.

Always showing off photos of Omega when he’s at work.

Saw the Barbie movie more than once. He cried each time.

LOVES to listen to Kesha.

His music taste is basically just 2000’s-2010’s party girl music.

Used to choreograph dances that he would then perform with Crosshair and Fives for the rest of their family when they were kids.

Gives the best massages.

Wears the New Balance dad sneakers. Crosshair HATES them.

Crosshair

Banned from their local Applebee’s for getting extremely sloppy off their dollaritas.

Gets motion sick sometimes, mostly in cars.

HATES air travel.

Top three artists on Spotify are My Chemical Romance, Taylor Swift, and Lana Del Rey (he’s just like me fr)

Also gets migraines. Unlike Hunter, he isn’t that sound sensitive, but he gets extremely sensitive to light and smells and gets auras with his migraines.

Also saw the Barbie movie more than once (he went with Wrecker). He also cried.

Has a crush on Tony Soprano (don’t ask why the thought came into my head and wouldn’t leave)

Babies and toddlers love him for some reason.

Will not eat or drink something if the expiration date is within two days. Gets extremely grossed out by Hunter not caring for expiration dates.

Secretly a hopeless romantic.

Omega

Learned her first curse word from Echo when he let one slip while driving.

Repeated the word in front of Hunter, who nearly had a heart attack.

Looks just like Crosshair when he was a kid.

Likes going out with Crosshair because he almost always gets her a little treat.

Gets annoyed by how many people in her class and some of their parents have a crush on one of her brothers.

Has tried to play matchmaker for her brothers before.

All of her brothers give amazing hugs, but she secretly thinks Echo’s are the best.

Batcher

She was a rescue dog.

She’s a gray pittie.

Her favorite person is Crosshair and she’s always following him around and is always at his side.

Goes crazy for cold cuts.

Was originally going to be brought to the shelter if they couldn’t find an owner, but Hunter agreed to keep her when he saw how happy she made Omega and Crosshair.

Her tail has a kink because it broke and didn’t heal properly.

Feel free to add more if you’d like! I have included some of these in my Modern AU works.

[livi-in-digital-circus]

Here are some songs that I think would match Ragatha/Miss Agatha and Jax/Jackson in your AU!!!

Ragatha/Miss Agatha:

- the grudge by Olivia Rodrigo would work with her and her terrible fiancé, especially after what he did to her baby. I think it could also work with her and Jax after she slapped him.

- Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey would work both Ragatha and Jax. It fits their will-they-won’t-they narrative.

- Bigger Than The Whole Sky by Taylor Swift. This song reminds me a lot of Agatha’s miscarriage and the horrible feelings that came with it. It’s the moment where everything in her world fell apart.

- Lose You To Love Me and Single Soon by Selena Gomez. The first one would work with Ragatha’s regrets over her past relationship with her ex, while the second one highlights a happier ending for her. It’s her new start with Jax, specifically her getting ready for the dance with him!

Jax/Jackson:

- Dancing With Our Hands Tied by Taylor Swift. I feel like this matches the dance scene, before everything fell apart of course.

- teenage dream by Olivia Rodrigo. This song would probably reflect the aftermath of Agatha’s coma and all the pain Jackson went through after finding out. Although this isn’t canon to the story, I feel like this would fit his 18th birthday party without her.

- Love You Down by Ready For The World. This song would resonate a lot with Jackson’s one-sided crush on his brother’s teacher and the dreams he had about her.

- Colors by Halsey would definitely work with Jax’s dreams about his past. It summarizes all the people and all the feelings he ignores to avoid feeling anything.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy these choices :D. Your AU has been one of my favorite TADC AUs I ever read. The amount of emotion, drama, and romance was captured perfectly without feeling OOC. Keep up the great work Livi!

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO SO MUCH 💕

I don't know why I didn't think of adding more Taylor and Olivia songs to my playlist, but I actually had those two Selena songs somewhere in the back of my head while making it!

I'll listen to all the songs when I get home from school in 10+ hours (it's past 1 AM here lol)

I would also like to take this opportunity to explain some of the Korean songs on the playlist:

Prologue by aespa is about feeling immature and not ready for adulthood, to me it fits Agatha perfectly because even though she has been an adult for some time, she still has the heart of a teenager and has trouble dealing with some adult issues

Checkmate by Xdinary Heroes is about feeling confident because of a won game, I relate this song to the moment when Jax's attack on Ragatha during their stage play was successful

The Ugly Duckling by YENA, well I interpreted the song's lyrics much differently than it should be interpreted, I relate it to Agatha's miscarriage due to the lyrics being about trying to move on after a horrible event and there is also a child mentioned so-

War of Hormone by BTS is a very controversial song which that has been accused of considering girls playthings for boys, basically Jax's attitude towards Ragatha before she almost abstracted

Doll by (G)I-DLE, the title says it all, it perfectly describes how Ragatha was treated by Jax and how she's fed up with it

Quarter Life by TOMORROW X TOGETHER is another song about finding adult life kind of hard and trying to go on despite you already screwed up a lot of things, every time I hear this song I think of Jax and how he feels after remembering his former life

Lonely Boy by TOMORROW X TOGETHER is a breakup song that in my opinion fits how Jackson felt after losing Agatha

Happily Ever After by TOMORROW X TOGETHER (yeah, it's my fav boysband lol) is the song I had in mind while writing the last chapter, even though it's upbeat it tells about how cruel life is and that there's actually no happy end, just like in the story :D

And thank you for enjoying my AU! At first I thought it would fail as it has no drawings (I'm really terrible at drawing + I can't do digital art) and focuses more on writing, but the amount of support and love my work has received in these few months makes me incredibly happy 🥺

[bitethehnd]

omg i’ve had the biggest brainrot over ur naomi & taylor!reader & rewatching the eras tour i have 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ thoughts

i can imagine reader! having a chat w naomi when they’re ready to make it official and actually tell everyone they’re together (god knows everyone’s figured it out but shh let them have their moment) & reader! asks if they can make it official during the show but doesn’t tell Naomi how,, they’re just like trust me it’ll be good and naomi is like ok !! anything for u !! & during karma reader! sings “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” & they somehow get naomi’s live reaction on the big screen megatron thing of reader fully making it official to everyone mid show and they’re just in AWE

& in the same show when reader! sings “you’re in love” they do a lil speech about how this song was written for someone else completely and after everything that went down, they hated this songs because it brought back so many bad memories (or something) but now they have someone who makes them feel like this song is the reason for existence again and it just cuts to lil naomi sobbing aAAA i truly love that fic so much i still have so many thoughts about it thank u thank u thank u

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ you are in love

pairing : naomi mcpherson x popstar!reader

a/n : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN KISS KISS

at this point during your eras tour, the two of you are already together. you think you’re all sneaky but literally everyone knows… naomi looks at you like you gave them the moon so it’s quite obvious, but everyone lets you two have your fun!

the first people you told were obviously katie and jo. they both had fake surprised looks on their faces but said the two of you deserved to be happy. then ensue the countless jokes and comments from jo.

the boys were thrilled too! since phoebe had also opened for you, she had taken a guess that you two had a thing for each other and then her suspicions were confirmed. julien fist pumped naomi and lucy gave you a big hug!! you guys are adorable fr.

next came telling the world about the relationship. you two held off for a few months, wanting privacy, but it seemed twitter was already aware of it. everyone had their theories and some were so outrageous that you just wanted to tell everyone yourself.

you told naomi your feelings on the matter and they immediately agreed, no questions asked. they were ready to show you off and not have to hide. you suggested doing it during your next show, and like anon said, naomi is just like “whatever my princess wants, she gets!!! anything for her!!”

you quickly put your plan into motion. you decided your surprise song for the next show would be “you are in love” from 1989. it perfectly described how you felt about naomi. you came up with some ideas for the speech you would give before hand and it went something like this…

“the next song that i’m going to play is one that i haven’t performed in so long. i wrote it about someone who i thought was going to be my forever, but it just didn’t end up that way and it left me with some sad memories. i have never felt the need to play this song since then, but now everything has changed. even if i originally wrote this about someone else, my partner renewed it into something so pure and now has a reason to exist again. i love you.”

the camera doesn’t pan to naomi just yet, since you wanted to build suspense. for dramatic effect, of course. but jo and katie make sure to get their reaction on video. it’s just naomi basically happy crying and laughing with tears under their eyes. even when you guys are a whole stadium apart, the invisible string between you is there.

when it was finally time for the last era of songs, from midnights, you were planning to do a lyric swap in “karma.” the actual lyric was “karma is my girlfriend,” but obviously naomi was not a girl and the song originally wasn’t written about them, you planned to change it to something that made you happier. when the time came to sing “karma,” you looked right into the vip section where naomi was and sang “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” cut to the camera panning to naomi and they’re just giddy, laughing and crying all at the same time. when you told them you were going to make it official, this is definitely not how they imagined it, but they weren’t complaining.

you just wanted to show the world your love for them and honestly didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. the two of you just existed in your own little bubble, feeling like you were just singing to them.

after the show was over and naomi practically sprinted backstage, their beaming smile lit up the room as they saw you. they pulled you in for a fierce hug and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead.

“that was the sweetest thing in the entire world, baby. i love you so much.”

“so you liked it? it wasn’t too much?”

“never. that was, like, magical. can’t believe you did all that for me.”

“i’d do anything for you, nom.”

© bitethehnd

[taylortruther]

performance of gender in the taylor swift cinematic universe //

is her music her giving us a peak into the romanticisms of her inner life and the places she allows herself to get lost, taking on many different narrators?

i'm not sure i understand the question!

but no, my performance of gender thoughts are more about how taylor presents as uber hyper feminine, travis as uber masculine, how their ever so slight deviations from their stereotypes (taylor's wealth/power, travis being idk willing to shed a tear) seem so huge when looked at through a heteronormative lens, which is most of society tbh so i understand why most swifties lose their minds over it even though i also find it funny.

or how good girlism has infected taylor for most of her life and how we see it even in ttpd and how it tells us a lot of what her views of gender are. because the archetypes of good girls and bad boys are basically just gendered relationship norms.

or how the story in ttpd - leaving a ltr, rebounding with someone bad for her, centered on marriage/babies/public shaming/propriety - feels SO traditional, so 'straight'! and it's super common because the expectations put on women are so flimsy and difficult to achieve while maintaining personal satisfaction, and we see this pattern when they crack in some way (sacrificing oneself for a man, seeing that blow up in your face, very badly wanting babies/marriage, being hyper-aware of how people are going to judge you for leaving or moving on or making different choices.)

...also how that relates to taylor's now-common descriptions of feeling tortured by the choice between career and domesticity.

the way parts of the fandom don't know what to do with the fact that taylor WANTS traditional things like marriage, a masculine partner, etc. and they have to twist to explain how she wants them in nontraditional ways (such as, considering joe unmasculine, which, lol) because they are very concerned with her losing her power. that in itself is a symptom of how shame and empowerment coexist in women. and taylor so clearly finds so much power in being a woman and presenting as a pretty traditional one.

the physical presentation of her gender (the clothes, makeup, mannerisms, whatever) but the artistic presentation (witches, hester prynne, cassandra, good girl, hunter, prey, the man, smart, fearsome, caged animal, bride, wife, mother, boss)

...among other things! this doesn't touch on the gaylor of it all which is a very interesting way of considering how her gender is presented when NOT viewed so heteronormatively.

[eggtqrt]

EAH Music Headcanons

I am slightly too scared of people judging my music taste to share the ever after high playlists I made so instead I will share some headcanons I have about their music taste!

obligatory mention that dexter is the biggest swiftie and convinced raven to get into her music

usually though raven prefers goth or punk rock music, maybe some metal when she's angy, some alt rock, but she has a sweet side and is trying to go against her mom so she also gets really into tswift

apple is kind of a basic baby gay UAHFJDJF like girl in red and phoebe bridgers vibes

darling likes oldies, billy joel, elton john, I need a hero bonnie tyler, etc etc (side note: she is okay with taylor swifts music but she is so fed up with dexter being obsessed with her)

90s music is faybelle and briars THING (although faybelle acts like she doesn't like it but she totally does) like NSYNC, backstreet boys, Selena, destiny's child that era is so them TO ME

cupid is open to listening to literally anything like she loves all music so much and she picks out songs for her radio show that she knows milton would never allow but he hasn't noticed yet so she keeps doing it (but if she had to choose she probably leans towards r&b, hip hop, chill vibes, and anything super unique, AND OFC any type of love song)

ashlynn loves anything relaxing, mostly classical music, jazz (loves laufey), indie, and folk (her playlists would have super ethereal, cottagecore picnic vibes) oh and! Ghibli music or music with those vibes for sure

hunter likes similar music to her but leans more towards the folk side (he likes listening to relaxing music to calm down when he gets too fed up with pesky)

Cerise likes indie rock and alt rock, but also I feel like she secretly loves some really girlypop Taylor swift songs

Cedar I think would enjoy r&b and classical (tho maybe more like movie soundtracks...) And maybe some folk and indie as well (like cupid she's probably pretty open to anything)

Duchess obviously listens to some ballet music just for practice BUT I think she'd also have a music taste that's really embarrassing to her and one time someone overheard her singing really badly in the shower (like to one direction or smth idk)

I just thought of this on the spot but maybe Humphrey likes edm LMAO

The wonderlandians are my fav characters but I don't have a solid headcanon for their music tastes because I think it would be so purposely chaotic and random and eclectic and strange

[shut-up-danny-kun]

Disclaimer: OP is aggressively neutral about Taylor Swift.

The way the internet collectively bullies swifties makes me sick. Oh, you've decided you like this (extremely popular) (world-renowned)(award-winning) singer? Lol ur sooo basic, you have no taste, you're delusional about this boring-ass white girl, try and listen to some real music (like me)! It's always “don't make fun of people for their interests” with y'all until it's something you've decided to performatively hate in order to seem more special.

“Oh, but they deserve to be made fun of” stop right there.

“Her music is boring” I'm sorry, but popular things are popular for a reason - people like them. Not everyone wants to listen to Orangutang Johnson and The Men of The Seven Seas, and that's okay. You're not - and I repeat - you're not any better than a swiftie for listening to less popular music. It does not make you good. It does not make you more special. It does not give you arcane abilities to judge other people. If you have a musical education and want to critique Taylor's music from a quality standpoint, that's another thing, but it's not what the majority of haters are doing.

“she's queerbaiting fans by refusing to talk about her sexuality” NOT WHAT QUEERBAITING MEANS. THAT'S NOT QUEERBAITING. Celebrities are not characters, they are real people and they don't owe you a revelation of their sexualities. “But she's straight, I 100% guarrantee it!” and what happened to our precious “don't assume people's sexualities until they tell you”? Huh? Apparently that's okay to do if a girl looks straight enough? Imagine for a second that she was queer. Imagine how she would feel. She doesn't have to be a lesbian to be LGBT+, so what if she's, say, aromantic? She would risk facing public outrage over “tricking” the public with her love songs. You can see how quickly this goes south.

“She's a nepo baby! And she's a millionaire, eat the rich!” Look me in the eye and tell me you're not obsessed with a famous white man who is also both of those things. Go on. If you're not, you're off the hook for this one, but keep in mind you should also be making fun of virtually every popular singer, not just Taylor Swift.

“It's okay to make fun of swifties because there's a lot of them” it still hurts, you know. Especially if you don't get a lot of contact with other fans. Especially if you're very young or feel like you can't be yourself in your daily life and Taylor's music speaks to you.

In the end, all that you're doing is taking something that someone really loves and telling them it's worthless, and that's just plain mean. To any swifties reading: keep having fun. Listen to whatever music you like.

[readinglatenights]

Can you write a cute fanfic with belly and jere?

i got carried away... if this is too deep then just send another ask LMAOO

call it what you want babe

lol second thing i've ever written but i've had this idea for SO LONG!! you can totally skip the lines i just thought it was so applicable, this is based on the taylor swift song call it what you want!! warnings: angst w susannah and mentions of conrad BUT UNBEARABLE FLUFF AFTER BEGINNING!! IT GETS CUTE IM SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY paring: jeremiah fisher and belly conklin word count: 749 premise: takes place the summer belly and jeremiah get together, so basically after season 2 (basically canon complicit?)

all the jokers dressing up as kings; they fade to nothing when i look at him

it had been eight weeks since susannah fisher had died. it had been fourteen weeks since belly had broken up with conrad.

but it had been four weeks with jeremiah fisher.

belly realized shortly after reconnecting with the brothers that jeremiah had loved her. he had loved her more true, and more pure than anyone ever did.

and i know i make the same mistakes every time; bridges burn, i never learn

her life came to a devasting halt. people have come and go in her life, but susannah was someone who loved her from the moon to saturn. she always repeated that she was destined for one of her boys, but never understood jeremiah's undying fire for belly.

at least i did one thing right. i did one thing right.

so here she was, fingers interlocked as they walked down the boadwalk of cousins beach, wrapping up their time out. jeremiah looked down at the girl he had loved for so long, ocean eyes adoringly meeting hers. he asks, "d'you wanna find a keepsake for tonight?" she smiles up at him, barely focusing on his words. his language was entangled with the blaring sounds of the rides and people around them. nodding, he leads her to the ring toss stand and purchases 6 rings for the each of them. as easy as it was to love jeremiah, it was hard to win at ring toss.

i'm laughing with my lover; making forts under covers

jeremiah had gotten a ring to stay on a bottle, and the worker asked what prize he had wanted. he gestured to belly, "pick any one you want, bells." she points to the giraffe.

as she walked with him to the cousins beach house they all loved, she made a mental note.

trust him like a brother

as complicated as her life was, she needed someone who would be her anchor. she needed the boy who let her feelings run wild, but would still tie her to home. she unlocked the door to the cozy abode, leaving the keys on the seashell hooks. the air was reminiscent of moments she had had with susannah, conrad, her mother, steven, taylor, and even cam.

yeah, you know i did one thing right.

she let the thoughts clear her head, and let her heart lead her. jeremiah had taken off his shoes and turned on the tv, opting to play music instead of turning on a movie. belly sits the giraffe down on the kitchen island, slumping over slightly as she prepared dinner.

"what are you gonna name him?" jeremiah asks, walking over to her. his hands meet her sides, resting comfortably on her hips, pressing light kisses on her cheek and neck.

she poured the uncooked pasta into boiling water, then turned to face him. "i'm not sure yet," she giggles, choosing to lightly bump his nose with her finger. "you don't have to decide yet," he kisses her forehead. "we have all the time in the world."

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

and they did. as jeremiah prepared their pasta, belly couldn't help but feel that everything in her life was worth it if she got to be with him. exciting nights alone couldn't even fathom replacing the most mundane nights with jeremiah fisher.

my baby's fit like a daydream, walking with his head down

plating their food and mixing a fruity concoction for both of them to drink, jeremiah grabbed the unnamed giraffe. belly sat on the couch close to jeremiah, and he pulled her closer. he wrapped his arms around her, cradling both her and the stuffed animal in his arms. the food was abandoned on the table as they laid together. for all the mistakes that she had made, for all the trouble they had gone through together, it had all amounted to this.

"jeremiah, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be with you?" she asked, nervously. he looked stunned, perplexed that she would say something like this. his features softened as he answered, "bells, you don't have to."

i'm the one he's walking to

"i think i'll never truly comphrehend how lucky i am to be with you." he pauses, looking at her. his pupils would morph into hearts if they could.

this was their ending.

so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to.

[myloveforhergoeson]

taking icy’s lead and sending you the playlist thing for rames!

hi hi hi!! so excited to do this~ i was obsessed with your jelisa post and your answers hehe. normally i try to keep my playlists centered around the time the story takes place but if i'm allowed to pick, my taste is a bit more modern-ish lol! i do my best to put the chapter titles as little soundtracks to go along with the story, but that doesn't always work out. most of the time they're just reflecting the chapter content with the title, not the lyrics

opening credits: l.a. baby (where dreams are made of) by the jonas brothers!

perhaps i'm cheating by picking a song that's already an opening credits song, but i think if their life was a TV show/movie this would be so perfect for them!

meeting for the first time: tracks of my tears by smokey robinson and the miracles

not because i think it reflects their situation but because i think roxy remembers this as the song she first heard him sing. their meeting isn't really anything miraculous + not love at first sight, but i think if they were a movie it would be cute if this was playing in the background when they first meet :)

hey, i kinda like you: crush by david archuleta

super super rames; playing on the radio when roxy decides to ask james out as like a little peek into what's running through her mind

i’m going to kiss you now: dig what you dug by wallows

:) love this song its sooo so so rames, but especially right after they kiss for the first time and james tells roxy he loves the way she says his name. that scene was inspired by this song in the first place!!

falling in love: jump than fall by taylor swift

self self-explanatory and chapter title stealing again...

your place or mine: last man in the world by the band camino

:)

naked in bed: hands down by dashboard confessional

my one mistake is using this to title a dak centered chapter... but it is also so very rames

first fight: that's what you get by paramore

cheating again and stealing chapter titles... but i mean come on! that's basically what happens lol

maybe we should take a break: my happy ending by avril lavigne

speaks for itself i think... especially because rox is pretty far gone for him at this point...

i want you back: iris by the goo goo dolls

I KNOW I KNOW but just imagine it's raining and james and roxy are in the street and they're apologizing to each other after their break because they realized it was such a bad idea and that they're better together and they love each other too much to see the other hurt and the instrumental part is playing in the background AHHH

will you marry me: songbird by oasis

not only is this their song (to me...) but everything about it is just so loving and tender and i think it fits this section perfectly. while i don't know if james and roxy are marriage people just yet, i think i could see this being something rox walks down the aisle to or perhaps their first dance song :)

first child: cecilia and the satellite by andrew mcmahon in the wilderness

like the last one, i'm not sure if james and roxy are parent material lol and i don't know many songs about children, but this is one of my favorites :) i think if anything james would be a super cute girl dad (as i think all boy band members would be) and i could imagine him writing/singing a similar type of song :)

we’re getting older: 18 by one direction/act my age by one direction

<3 we can forget they're 17 when they start dating okay <3

if you die i’ll go with you: i'll follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie

if you've never heard this one you might want to grab some tissues. my hands are shaking as i write this.

end credits: the flower garden by joe hisaishi

im imagining the screen fading to black after their story ends while this plays and seeing the credits roll and GAH IM SUCH A MESS HELP!!!!!! (and now im imagining a howl's moving castle au so someone needs to take google docs far FAR AWAY FR OM ME but they fit those roles so well HELPPP)

[milesonthenet]

Let's talk about Scream Queens (Season One)!

2015 saw Fox debut Scream Queens, a horror comedy series produced by Ryan Murphy. Yes, the same Ryan Murphy who produced Glee and American Horror Story. Clearly going off of those shows, he's got a thing for scaring his viewers, right?

The Story:

Scream Queens focuses on the residents of the sorority house Kappa Kappa Tau. Kappa Kappa Tau is struggling to keep itself together in the midst of a masked serial killer haunting the campus. Our mysterious villain, the university's mascot, the 'Red Devil', targets the various people there for malevolent reasons.

Throughout the series, we discover more about the Red Devil's origins. All of it ties back to a baby born on a sorority party. Who is the killer, and who has their eyes on vengeance against Kappa Kappa Tau?

The Cast:

The various sorority sisters are a pretty colorful cast when you get down to it. I admit that a lot of them are purely used for comedic effects. Deaf Taylor Swift for example is a pretty obvious death, and she's mostly just there for the jokes.

When you get down to it though, the cast is surprisingly fun enough on its own. The characters also give some strong impressions on what there are. More than that, their actors give some strong performances as well.

Let's run down the list, shall we?

Chanel Oberlin, played by Emma Roberts, is basically the apex predator (Heh, Mean Girls) of the Sorority House. A mean-spirited elitist, Chanel is one of the focal characters outside of Grace. She has other followers behind her, including the deadpan Chanel #3, played by Billie Lourd, and the suck-up Chanel #5, played by Abigail Breslin. In addition, there was Chanel #2, played by Ariana Grande, who was quickly killed off.

Just beneath the Chanels are the various 'Pledges'. Half of them are actual characters, like Zayday Williams (Played by Keke Palmer), Grace Gardner (Played by Skyler Samuels), and Hester Ulrich (Played by Lea Michele). The other half? No, not so much.

The cast doesn't just end with Kappa Kappa Tau, however. The Dickie Dollar Boys are an established fraternity at Wallace University, led by Chad Radwell who is played by Ben Powell. Behind him is Boone, played by Nick Jonas, and Earl Grey, played by Lucien Laviscount.

Outside the university's institutions stands Dean Munsch, played by the iconic Scream Queen Jamie Lee Curtis. She is a consistent antagonist to Chanel Oberlin, and also the catalyst for many of the new pledges' induction into the sorority.

Denise Hemphill is a riot act played by Niecey Nash, and the acting university security guard. Gigi Caldwell is the sorority den mother played by Nasim Padrad, who is stuck with part of her psyche trapped in the 90s. Wesley Gardner, played by Oliver Hudson, is Grace's overprotective father who stays on campus because of the Red Devil. Pete Martinez is the campus barista, an ex of Chanel Oberlin's, and a current boyfriend to Grace Gardner.

The Kills:

Scream Queens fashions itself off of the iconic horror movies of the past. A masked killer stalks a group of scared youths and then chops them up. It's a very basic premise, so it plays with a lot of the more 'obvious' tropes. This is all loving though, so it's nothing to poke fun at.

The Red Devil can get quite brutal when acting his kills. One moment he's using a lawnmower to brutally decapitate a young woman. The next he's just using a chainsaw to slice off a guy's arms. He also uses it to decapitate a guy in an ice cream cone costume.

When I was younger, I was bothered seeing Miss Bean get her face pushed into a fryer. The way that she's still alive, and her fingers are peeling off the burnt skin on her face. It bothered me, and it's one of those kills that's stuck with me ever since.

The experienced horror fans might be one of two categories. A, you will probably be bored by the overall kills, or probably just imagined they were done better elsewhere. OR Category B; you will actually find some of them alright.

Conclusion: Scream Queens is Totes Worth It (If you like the Comedy).

Scream Queens is a series that knows its genre in and out. Overall, I would rate the series pretty well. There is a lot of fun that I got out of watching the series.

Should there be a sequel? It's an important question to ask when it comes to certain TV Shows. Obviously, you would want to be aware of seasonal rot setting in. Some shows are just okay with ending and having the comfort of knowing that they happened.

Scream Queens is a fun series, and I would watch a new revival for it. However, I just find that there is nothing to really 'bring back'. The cast have gone on to do greater things beyond the show. The series is fine as it is, and I'm not sure if a revival would bring in a new audience.

If they somehow find a way to revive the series with good prospects, then I'd be interested. They could potentially rope in an all-new cast, preferably with some older characters as well. Kudos to the writers if they find a way to make Scream Queens work eight years after it's time.

Overall? I hope you enjoyed this bite-sized review! I'll be using something like this format for my TV Show reviews going forward. I'll try and hit up numerous other avenues for discussion.

[sopheadraws]

When it comes to Brittany S. Pierce, people’s interpretations are all over the place. It ranges anywhere from <3 innocent babie <3, to severely cognitively impaired, to manipulative liar who pretends to be stupid so others obey their will (which I’ll later accuse her mother of, but that’s neither here nor there). Anyways, I’m adding my opinion into the cacophony because, despite the indecisive fanbase, thorough Brittany meta is lacking in quantity. Also, I tend to think my opinion is best, as is human nature.

This analysis is rooted in autistic!Brittany, and while its unnecessary since I’ll go through many of her autistic characteristics, here’s a post detailing the headcanon and a medical article describing the diagnostic criteria in simple terms if you’re unfamiliar with the disorder. I understand that not everybody considers Britt neurodivergent, and that’s totally fine - I’m always up for a healthy conversation/debate! - but please give me a heads up if you plan to respond critically because a lot of this is based on my own experiences as an autistic teenage girl, so unmentioned critiques can feel personal fast. Now without further ado:

A Deep Dive Into Brittany S. Pierce <3

Auditory Processing Disorder “APD” is a subdivision of Sensory Processing Disorder “SPD” which is a quintessential element of an autism diagnosis. APD is pretty much exactly what it sounds (haha pun) like: despite somebody’s hearing abilities, the brain fails to process auditory input properly. The APD trait I hear discussed most in autism spaces is the inability to filter out background noises, but Britt seems to struggle most with interpreting meaning from words. Sometimes when people talk to me (“dolphins are just gay sharks”), even though they’re speaking clearly and I’m very literate in English, it sounds like jumbled nonsense (“dulfanz-our-goost-gae-shorcks”). This accounts for what I’m calling Brittany’s “so close you can taste it” lines. Think of her claim that Christopher Cross discovered America or that O is the capital of Ohio; a man named Christopher C. is indeed credited with discovering America and O is the only capital letter in Ohio. As a whole, they often misunderstand things told to them directly, and it seems a lot less foolish if she only understood half of what was being said via APD.

I’m calling the category of Brittany lines that can’t usually be rationalized as possible by anybody over seven (e.g. Rory the leprechaun, storks delivering babies, and anything with Lord Tubbington) the “stranger than fanfiction lines.” Now, I could take these at face value and say she’s tapping into a magical dimension, but I have my own set of autism driven realism issues, so, without a pre-existing fantasy world, I’m using my significant brainpower to twist Brittany into plausibility =D I ultimately think the best explanation for the stranger than fanfiction lines is echolalia. Echolalia is the repetition of words or phrases, and it’s usually associated with autism. Autistic people often reuse other people’s words, and since we usually think in pictures and have various social communication problems, it’s easier than formulating new sentences. Or we just like the tongue movements/sound a word makes. Personally, I quote songs a lot - if you say something loosely related to a Taylor Swift, musical, or Glee lyric, chances are I’ll sing it - and dipsomaniacal is a new fave to say randomly. There’s some evidence for Britt doing this in canon, unrelated to the stranger than fanfiction lines. While Brittany is known for calling him Blaine Warbler, it actually originated from Rachel and the infamous spin the bottle kiss. They also repeat ‘uber weird after Blaine in the That’s So Rachel reading, and the last line of that scene is them talking in time with Blaine, a behavior seen in S1 with Santana. However, it interests me most that she calls Artie a robot, as we see her dad call Stephen Hawkin, another wheelchair user, a robot in S6.

Basically, I blame the Pierces for how terribly adjusted their child is <3 (Mostly Whitney. Assuming Pierce actually has an IQ of 40, he’s disabled too and deserves some slack in terms of spreading misinformation.) In her admittedly limited screen time, Whitney manages to do two positive things: be an LGBTQ+ ally and let her younger daughter do soccer, I guess. Otherwise, she kept the truth about Stephen Hawking from Brittany for 20 years, cheated on her husband on their honeymoon for claiming infertility, crapped in random barns, insulted her husband’s intelligence, publicly insulted her husband’s appearance, and arguably restricted her daughter’s intellectual growth. To be honest, I realize Whitney isn’t that deep and I don’t actually hate her, but if people can hate Brittany for being a comedic character from the 2010s, I’ll do the same thing to their mother in defense of Brittany. Fight stop the violence with violence, baby! Anyways, I don’t think echolalia alone can explain the stranger than fanfiction lines. At least, not without a source. And that’s usually where upbringing comes in.

I’m ruling out nature automatically because there aren’t chromosomes telling people to believe in unicorns. Well, some people - including autistic people (hehe see what I’m doing here?) - are more inclined to believe falsehoods, but falsehoods have to be fed by someone else. With autism, the reckless believing tendencies come from literal thinking in part. Also, since SPD makes processing the outside world difficult, we often can’t recognize “obvious” truths in the first place. My extended family hated watching movies with me because I used to ask questions every five seconds lol. Setting Pierce aside because he seems to follow Whitney blindly; Brittany’s unnamed sister, Sue, and Whitney are the remaining suspects.

I assume Brittany’s sister is significantly younger than Britt because she played soccer with a seven-year-old in S1 (technically she could’ve been the coach, but that throws off my theory that the Klaine/Brittana wedding was child free), and children aren’t clever or mean enough to throw off anybody’s world view so badly :) Sue does seem the obvious answer, but she didn’t meet Brittany until they started high school, and she’s consistently baffled by Britt’s behavior despite encouraging her own eccentricities in the other Cheerios. And that leaves Whitney as the perpetrator, blaming her Scientology and gambling addiction on a cat.

Finally, I do think there’s a few times when Brittany intended for her jokes to be jokes. I don’t think it happens as much as you might expect, but there’s a scene in S3 when JBI is interviewing Brittany about her class president candidacy, and she tells him she’s voting for Rick “The Stick” Nelson before turning to Santana and laughing that clued me in. I think the mentality behind these lines (the “pun intended” category) is best explained with an anecdote from my own childhood.

When I was little - maybe six or seven - I really wanted to be funny. Well, I wanted to be liked, and since I didn’t understand social cues, my solution was humor because I knew my dad told jokes which made me laugh, which made him likable! Unfortunately, as a literal thinking child, I had no idea how to do this, which meant I parroted the only joke I knew (“What time is it when an elephant sits on the table?” “Time to get a new table!”) in hopes of chuckles. This went about as badly as you would expect. After a while, my parents got rightfully fed up with this joke and got me a joke book. I had no sense which of these jokes were funny, which wasn’t helped by most of the book being about taxes, bad marriages, and other stuff aimed at adults.

It wasn’t until a routine walk to the convenient store that my comedy dreams were fulfilled. My dad, little sister, and I used to walk to the “snack store” to buy a drink each and share a candy bar. While we had some routine favorites, we also tried out new candies together. However, there were a few bars my dad refused to buy because he’d disliked them prior to our snack store outings. Most infamous of these forbidden fruits was the Zero Bar. We tended to reference the Zero Bar when picking our next treat, and on this fateful day I said, “It’s called the Zero Bar because zero people like it.”

And my dad laughed. He laughed because of something I’d said. I was elated!

The only catch up was I hadn’t actually intended it as a joke. After all my attempts to be funny, the only thing that apparently worked was speaking my mind. This singular incident didn’t rewire my understanding of humor - I attempted the parroting tactic with the Zero Bar joke after all - but it’s the most pivotal moment in my mind. To this day, I play up my neurodivergent thought process to make others laugh. I reference Glee at seemly unrelated times with mock enthusiasm to callback times I’ve mentioned Glee with real enthusiasm or talk about my other interests in forced monotones.

There isn’t any actual evidence that Brittany has the same weird complex about humor, but some of their interactions regarding stupidity parallel it. In general, when they’re away from Santana, Brittany appears fairly insecure about her neurodivergence. I might even go as far as to say that she doesn’t joke without Santana around. Now, I don’t think Britt knows what her atypicalities are until they’re presumably diagnosed at M.I.T., but every neurodivergent person I know knew something was wrong before being diagnosed. (I want to talk about how Blaine’s diagnosed autism is a foil for Brittany’s undiagnosed autism at some point, but you didn’t sign up for autistic!Blaine, so now isn’t the time.)

Anddd, that’d pretty much it for now :) I intend to write more in depth Brittany meta in the future, but this is a decent overview for the time being. I hope this made you think, and I’d love to hear your thoughts if it did!

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Have you read the NYT piece on Taylors sexuality? Would love to know if you have any thoughts?

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/04/opinion/taylor-swift-queer.html

I didn't think it was a good piece - and I think it was wildly inappropriate for anyone to write that for the NYT or the NYT to print it.

The piece is far too long and because of that length it has many contradictory ideas. This is probably best seen through the fact that it seems to want to argue that reading Taylor Swift is queer is legitimate (it's possible to do a great version of that article), present proof that Taylor Swift is queer, and argue that it's a problem that people aren't reading Taylor Swift as queer. Given current understandings - it's impossible to make a coherent argument for all these at the same time and the arguments frequently undercut each other.

You can see this in the many false endings of the piece there's a paragraph above the picture of Taylor in her reputation outfit - which is basically 'queer readings must be seen as possible'. Perfectly fine ending, reasonable thing to say. But then the last section opens: "I remember the first time I knew I had seen Taylor Alison Swift break free from the trap of stardom." And the certainty is never undermined, even though the argument is incredibly flimsy (basically there is only one possible understanding of Hits Different).

The Hits Different argument - which doesn't seem to consider the possibility that the narrator could be talking about herself with the line 'argumental antithetical dream girl' is part of a really unsophisticated reading of Taylor Swift's work. The reference to anti-hero - which turns the sexy baby/monster on a hill into a statement about how she's supposed to look rather than how she feels - simplifies the song massively.

The fundamental problem (as is so often with these sorts of pieces) was that this was someone whose thoughts had been developed in fandom and was responding almost entirely to fandom discourse. Fandom works in binaries - there is only one legitimate reading and therefore in order to prove your argument is legitimate you need to show that other readings aren't. But that's definitely not a cultural discussion of queerness and celebrity. It reads to me like she's not self-aware enough to separate what she desperately wants to say about fandom, and what is a cultural argument that is appropriate for this forum.

**************

And I disagree with some of the really basic premises of the argument - that she's too cowardly to make explicit - which is that outting is OK.

Taylor Swift has not come out - and this article includes a list of reasons why this person thinks she's gay - and ends with a claim of knowledge.

Lets stick to basics - if you think there's reason to believe that a celebrity was going to come out and didn't - then it's totally OK to talk about that with your friends. It's not OK to write an article about it in the New York Times. If someone doesn't

Likewise - the point of queer coding is that only people who are familiar with queer culture will pick it up. It's a fucked up thing to do to translate queer coding to a wider audience - because the whole point is that the person doing it only wants to speak to those who know.

One of the bizarre things about the article is that it seems to take as a starting point that things only exist if they're talked about in the New York Times. It asks the question about what queer people who see queer themes in her work are supposed to do and suggests the answers are: "Right now, those who do so must inject our perceptions with caveats and doubt or pretend we cannot see it (a lie!) — implicitly acquiescing to convention’s constraints in the name of solidarity."

The idea that the only options are lying or talking about why you think a celebrity who is not out is queer in the pages of the NYT is completely bizarre - and erasing so much of queer culture. Speculation about the sexuality of prominent figures is definitely queer culture - but not done on broadcast - done within queer communities. To me that so invalidating of what happens within queer friendships and queer communities to say that the only options are lying or stating your opinion in the pages of the New York Times.

There is nothing wrong in seeing queerness in Taylor's life and work. There's nothing wrong with talking about the queerness you are seeing in Taylor's life and work - even for major publications. But the certainty - the idea that your responses are only valid if you can prove that you're right about someone else's experience - I think that's damaging for the person that is making the argument, the person they're talking about, and queer culture more generally.

[charlieswanismydad]

about me !!!

links

drawn by the amazing @ghosttoastx !!! if you read this ily you’re never getting rid of me now

Hi!!! I’m Alice.

I do stuff. It’s pretty cool.

Enfp, hufflepuff, Capricorn Sun, Libra moon, Pisces rising, he/she, and more!! I’m also a non-partnering aromantic and gray asexual!

I stalk blogs I like, don’t be alarmed if I like a bunch of posts at once!! In fact, be happy!! I love you!!!!!

If you want to talk to me please do!!! I want more friends. Just keep in mind I am a 15 year old minor!

You have been warned!

DNI:

racists, homophobes, sexists, etc. general dni criteria ig

people who just hate for no reason!! (anti-furry, just hating on certain fandoms, etc. ticks me off!)

proshippers

frans/fontcest

exclusionists

radqueers

radfems

pro paras. go to therapy

nsfw (also sorta related to above, pro cnc/ageplay. go to therapy)

WIPS:

Wilting Flowers - My actual baby. My pride and joy. It’s imperfect but that’s okay.

The actual grim reaper falls in love with a mortal. I can’t do it justice, you’re just gonna have to trust me.

don’t break my heart - Shameless Sans fanfic. All of the self indulgence ever, but it brings me joy :) semi discontinued, might come back!

I love it man. It makes me so happy. Basically yn is an awkward dumbass and so is Sans and they fall in love and stuff :)

Fandoms:

My main fandoms are Twilight and Undertale (obv), but I’m in a bunch more!! :D

The Arc of a Scythe by Neil Shusterman

Harry Potter by Daniel Radcliffe (JK…)

Steven Universe by Rebecca Sugar

Doki Doki Literature Club by Dan Salvato

Omori by Omocat

Arcane by Riot Games

The Walten Files by Martin Walls

The Amazing Digital Circus by Glitch Studios

The Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber (the book’s by Gaston Leroux but i haven’t read it lol)

Deltarune by Toby Fox (is that an anagram???)

Meet the Robinsons by Disney

And more that aren’t off the top of my head!! Just ask bros :)

I’m kinda obsessed with UTMV, soooo….

Fav AU - Insomnia (link to chapter 1)

Fav Sans - Dust by Ask-Dusttale and Geno by LoverofPiggies

Music:

Ranked by popularity, with my fave songs from each! Just like the fandoms, it's all over the place.

Taylor Swift - Haunted

Hozier - In The Woods Somewhere

Muse - Soldier's Poen

Mitski - Last Words of a Shooting Star

Will Wood - Suburbia Overture/Vampire Culture/Whatever the hell the name is idek anymore

Dazey and the Scouts - Maggot

The Oozes - I Still Adore You

Lemon Demon - Action Movie Hero Boy

Tally Hall/Miracle Musical - Misery Fell

Teddy Hyde - Terry’s Taxidermy

Destroy Boys - Crybaby

The Crane Wives - Little Soldiers

Steam Powered Giraffe - Malfunction

Writing Requests:

HEY SO HERES A FUN FACT: I WANT YOU TO ASK ME TO WRITE THINGS FOR YOU!! LIKE I LOVE THAT!!! I WILL WRITE YOU LITTLE ONESHOTS IF ITS A FANDOM IM IN!!! OR I CAN WRITE ABOUT MY CHARACTERS IF YOU’RE INTO THAT!!! JUST PLEASR PLEASE PLEASE ASK ME AAAAAAA

Things You Might Want to Be Aware Of:

i tend to isolate myself when i’m having a Big Sad™️ moment. please do not be mad if i act cold!!!

i’m a very empathic person and i get really upset around negativity. please do not send me or mention me in anything political or controversial.

i get in my head about disturbing/sexual things. once again, don’t show me this stuff. don’t ask me to write about it, either!!

i am uncomfortable around religious discussions. i get enough of them irl!!! please keep them away from me :')

i’ve got adhd and possible ocd so yeah and also my auditory processing sucksssss so if we ever interact on call or *gasp* irl then i’ll say “what?” every five seconds

books. @bunny-on-a-bookshelf for books.

i’m just a silly little girl who is also a boy. we have fun here

Tags:

(new so they haven’t been used much)

#mootie patooties - mutuals

#irl alice - real life shtuff

#reblogs - self explanatory

#alice writes sometimes - my writing!!!!

#skeleposting - undertale/utmv

#is that an anagram??? - deltarune

#sparkly - twilight

#im aspec BUT - simping, fangirling, i do a lot of it

#liveblogging homestuck - reading homestuck and making vague comments about it.

#ALL HAIL - welcome to nightvale stuff!!!

#rock n robinson - meet the robinsons

#musical automatons - steam powered giraffe!!!! the best band ever btwwwew

Moots:

I literally love you guys 😭😭

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[wonik1ss]

cruel summer — hy.n

pairing : non idol!hyein x reader

synopsis : Your summer was horrible! You were sent to see your grandparents and made to not come back until the summer was over! But maybe a certain someone could make it just a little more bearable. Maybe being sent to the beach wasn’t so bad at least now you had a friend.

song rec : cruel summer - taylor swift

*PURELY PLATONIC*

“ ARE YOU SERIOUS ?! “. You yelled as parents sat still on the couch were they just told you they were basically shipping you of to Cali.

“ Y/n baby it’ll just be for a months or two!! “. Your mom tried to reason as you walked around the couch stoping in front of them.

“ MONTHS ?!?! “. You yelled as your dad sighed.

“ You spend every summer here honey we just.. wanted one to our selfs “. Your dad also tried to reason as your mom nodded.

“ SO YOUR SICK OF ME ?! “. You started yell louder as you gave up and ran to your room slamming it. You couldn’t believe you were being sent of to Cali to see two old people you barely new! As sat on your bed angry as ever your mom and dad talked.

“ If she broke that door I’m beating her- “. You dad tried to calm your mom down. But that was the least of his problems an angry teenager was way worse.

-

“ Your face is going to stay like that forever if you don’t move it! “. Your dad yelled, you held your angry face all the way from the airport to the drive now to your grandparents house.

But your face softened when you saw the view. Beautiful beaches, tall trees and a big blue house near the shore. “ That’s your grandparents house! “. Your mom said as she smiled while you rolled your eyes.

2 months or so with old grumps who don’t know you.. how fun. As your dad parked in the parking lot two miles away from your grandparents house you all got out; as your dad got your bags while your mom slung her arm around your shoulder.

“ It’s not going to be that bad I swear! “. Your mom said as you walked to the blue house, she held out her pinky and you reluctantly hooked your pinky with hers.

“ If they make me play chess I’m running all the way back home “. You said as your mom laughed, but your face was still that was no joke you were making.

“ Ok we’re here! “. Your dad said as he sighed. Maybe you shouldn’t have backed half your room in your bag..

“ Y/N! “. You went bug eyed eyes your grandma ran out to hug you.

“ You sure she’s my grandma? “. You said as your grandpa came out laughing.

“ This is what happens when you get pregnant with a baby girl at 18! “. Your grandpa said as he went to hug you.

“ Come on now princess let’s get you settled into your castle! “. Your grandpa said as he hauled your stuff inside as you said goodbye to your parents.

What a summer this will be..

-

As you stated at the oceans water while you sat at the shore you felt someone’s eye on you. But when you turned around you weren’t expecting to see a girl your age staring back at you. She smiled as she got closer and sat next to you.

“ Are you the new girl? “. She said her eyes seeming to never leave your face. You nodded, who the hell was this creep girl.

“ I’m Hyein.. I live in the purple house right next to your.. “

“ Grandparents house “. Here mouth went into an O as you told her.

“ ..Everyone’s been talking about you but no one’s seen you so I’m happy I’m the first “. You giggled as she blushed.

“ Was there anything else you wanted to know? “. She nodded her head so much you felt like you were getting wip lash.

“ I wanted if you wanted to see my butterfly sanctuary!! “. You titled your head.

“ You mean your parents? “. You asked as she laughed.

“ Kinda.. they built it.. But I got the butterfly’s! “. Hyein said trying to impress you as you giggled more.

“ Sur- “.

“ Y/N DINNERS READY “. You looked back and gave a thumbs up to your grandma as you stood up and Hyein followed.

“ How about tomorr- “

“ Definitely! “. She said as you smiled and ran to your house as she stood there and watched.

She could finally have a friend..

-

As you skipped over to Hyein’s house she ran in front of you almost making you trip before she grabbed your hand.

“ Mornin’ Y/n! “

“ Morning Hyein! “

“ Ready to see the butterfly’s “. As the girl talked she wiggled her eyebrows and acted like a butterfly’s as you giggled.

“ Definitely! “.

With that Hyein dragged you into her house. You were only able to say a simple hi to her parents as she dragged you over to her sanctuary’s doors.

“ Are you ready to rumble “. Hyein said in and announcer voice as she opened her sanctuary’s doors quickly pulled you in and closed the doors.

“ Wow “. You said, Hyein had about 500 purple butterfly’s in different shades. As you looked around in aww she smiled. You liked it.. someone finally liked it.

She dragged you around telling you there names.

“ This one’s Peanut.. this one’s Butter.. This one’s Ja- “.

“ I’m guessing you were really hungry while naming them “. Hyein shyly nodded as she dragged you to her desk and showed you her notes.

“ I write everything about them in here.. “. You read through the girls pages as she stared at you.

“ Hyein “

“ Ya! “

“ Why do you seem so happy to show me stuff.. “. You said as you slowly looked at the girl as her smile slowly dropped as she walked; it ver to a bench patting the spot next to her for you to sit.

“.. All of the people living on the beach think I’m weird.. so when I heard you were coming.. I just hopped you wouldn’t think I was weird too.. “. As she said that you lunged at her for a hug.

As you both hugged Hyein held on tight making you have to tap out like you were in a boxing ring to tell her you couldn’t breathe. She apologized profusely as you giggled and side hugged her.

“ As long as I’m here you’ll never be lonely Hyein! And I mean never! “. You said as you tickled the girl and she giggled.

-

You keep your promise by always hanging out with Hyein from morning to night. One night you both laid on the beach under the stars when Hyein asked you.

“ Hay.. Y/n are we friends “. As you turned to face her you laughed and her face dropped.

“ Hyein we are bff’s “. She smiled as she tickled you.

Maybe you wouldn’t have such a cruel summer after all…