#not hating on taylor swift herself but her music is not that good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sterredem · 4 months ago

Text

The Secret of Us

Driver!Singer!Reader x 2023/2024 grid

Face Claim Gracie Abrams

Warnings hate, not proofread, spelling mistakes (prolly)

Summary In the world where Y/n is a racing driver the current grid isn’t always supportive. So she proves everyone wrong that she can do more than just driving cars around.

A/N a little less with the grid then I would like but I still love it. Also as always there will be spelling mistakes.

Also for people that don’t know ‘y/f/n’ means ‘your friends name’ so you need to make that up too! (For the Gracie fans she is basically the replacement for Audrey)

Please comments and repost!! And dead back is also always appreciated🫶❤️!

Instagram

Like by Redbullraacing and 836.837 others

Yourusername Got P3 today! Happy with the results. Also had a great time exploring China. A little 2 week break before Miami. Looking forward to be in the US again. And thank you for the team @Redbullracing for the good calls.

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Y/f/n So proud 💕

LewisHamilton great job 👏

User1 why does the caption look so pr written? Like where is the emotion?

User2 prolly cause it is

User1 huh? Why?

User2 Y/n accidentally posted some things she wasn’t supposed to (a few times) (things like race strategy’s and some other milder things) so the PR team decided that it would be better to have all het social media managed (she can still chose her pictures and some caption and the posts from the off season)

User1 ahhh thanks

User3 Favourite racing driver

User4 she’s so pretty~

User5 I hope she gets control of her social media back soon that was the most fun times with her funny captions and pictures

User6 P3 Whohoo!

User7 does anyone know why almost none of the drivers like it comment on her posts? They always do it with the other ones. Even max didn’t like and he is het team mate

User8 we don’t know but there are a lot of speculations that either the WAG’s Forbit them or that they just don’t like her very much. Maybe even both

User7 why don’t the wag’s and drivers like her?

User8 the wags are prolly jealous and the drivers are just salty white men that can’t handle a girl being successful in motorsports (besides Lewis and some retired drivers they are great friends)

User7 thank you 🙏

User9 🏎️

User10 I don’t understand how people can dislike her

User11 I love her

User12 I love her and y/f/n’s friendship

User13 deserved💪

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Instagram

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 1.293.836 others

Yourusername A little trip with friends before going back to work✈️

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Y/f/n Cutie

Yourusername says you

SabrinaCarpenter beauty liked by author

User1 she’s so pretty

User2 it’s so woerd that no one related to f1 in het likes is not even her team only some fans

User3 so true!

User4 I love her friends

User5 I need a friend group like hers

User6 This is why you do so bad in the races

User7 why???

User6 she isn’t training and is doing other things

User7 well all the other drivers are also having a break and are on vacation and she is one of the top driver on the grid at the moment with a team that are on the top at the moment.

User8 you go girl

User9 wait Sabrina Carpenter in the likes and comments?!?! I didn’t know they where friends

User10 I would love to be friends with her

User12 how is it possible to be this beautiful??

User13 not still the or caption😭😭

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Instagram

Liked by user6 and 186.836 others

F1gossip Y/n y/l/n was seen numerous times going to Long pond studios (the music studio where a lot of artists like Taylor swift record their music). The driver has showed before that she has a talent for music. She showed that with the covers of popular songs that she posted in her YouTube. Is she there to make music herself? Or is she helping her artist friends with something?

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User1 OMG?! Y/n music???

User2 wait that would be so cool…

User3 what is it with f2 drivers and their side quests?

User4 more like f1 drivers and music.

User5 huh? Only Charles did that right?

User4 no! Charles did the piano but Lewis also featured on a few songs as XNDA!

User5 Omg? Cool!

User6 if she does it is going to fail. She is t talented enough for that she can’t even drive

User7 said you. With your fortnight videos

User8 besides the point… but she looks so good…

User9 so true

User10 I’m curious how she is going to promote it. Like is she gonna do it on her main insta en accounts? Cause that one is PR controlled but if she does another one than she doesn’t have a large following

User11 wow. You really thought about that huh? But yeah. I’m curious too

User12 I would love music!

User13 it would also be amazing if she would be on rep tv valt teach with Taylor

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Time skip to break between canada and Spain GP

Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 1.372.726 others

Yourusername Oops… I cut my hair… also follow @y/nmusic for a suprise on a few hours…

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OliviaRodrigo Beauty (also I followed)

Yourusername says you (yay!)

SabrinaCarpenter exited!!! Liked by author

User1 OMG?!?!

User2 MUSIC???

User3 WE WHERE RIGHT!!

User4 The hair is honestly so cute!

User5 what is that on the street?????? Perhaps a song title????

User6 it’s gonna be bad

User7 stfu with your fortnight

User8 how can one be so perfect?

User9 HOURS???? HOURS?!?!

User10 I followed!!

User11 Already at 1 mill followers?!?!

User12 Is perhaps the TS merch an Easter egg?

User13 So exited!!!!!

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Instagram

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 937.836 others

Y/nmusic 💛THE SECRET OF US💛 Comes out July 9th!!! I loved making this album, it was amazing working with the people I love. We had a great time writing all this! While it was great their where also tears. 💛RISK💛 will also be out June 19th!!! Y/f/n and I wrote Risk together on our couch. Aaron also produced the shit out if this! And the amazing Abby shot the cover art. I. Love. You.

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SabrinaCarpenter 💛💛💛

OliviaRodrigo So happy that the secret is finally out😉

Y/f/n AAAHHHH!! So exited!!

Laufey Thank god!!✨

Aarondessner ❤️❤️❤️❤️can’t frocking wait!!!!🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌

Noahkahanmusic can’t waaaaaait

User1 OMG?? A WHOLE ALBUM?!?!

User2 This is amazing!!!

User3 RISK?! WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

User4 Aaren produced this?!?! This is going to be crazy!!

User5 All these artist in the comments all of a sudden

User6 Untalented, it’s gonna flop

User7 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

User8 Still the grid ignoring her

User9 this isn’t race related so I understand it

User8 but with Charles’ album they liked and said that they were happy for him online

User10 THIS IS GONNA SLAP!

User11 she looks so good in this. Probs to Abby!

User12 R U KIDDING ME

User13 AAAAAAHHHHHH

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Instagram

Yourusername and y/nmusic

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 827.836 others

Yourusername Some bts shots of me recording this album. This is a little freak before RISK comes out!! Also teach list soon…?

View all 11.826 comments

SabrinaCarpenter You looks so cute while sleep deprived💛

Yourusername awwww thanks cutie

OliviaRodrigo How can one look so cute while working?

Yourusername You know all my secrets baby

Y/f/n I took these🤭

Yourusername yes you did🤭

User1 beauty

User2 does anyone notice that her account isn’t PR controles anymore?!

User3 OMG! Yes! I just notice it that you say it. You instantly see it with the comments amd caption

User4 Long pond studio you say? Where a surten Taylor swift goes??

User5 I love her friendship with other singers

User6 your not cute

User7 she is

User8 I just realised that she wrote and recorded this while also racing and doing all that work

User9 OMG YES! I’m so impressed. I also think she write most of it herself so that also takes quite some time

User10 💛💛💛💛

User11 so exited!!

User12 I love you!!!

User13 still not any drivers

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 826.836 others

Y/nmusic Risk out now!! The music video will be out tonight at midnight!!!! Also as a suprise Close to you will be out June 28th!!!! Thank you all so much for the support (and the track list WILL be out soon I promise!!)

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Y/f/n I had a great time directing this!!

Y/nmusic And it turned out amazing!!!!

User1 Probs to Y/f/n for making this masterpiece liked by author and y/f/n

User2 MOST AMAZING SONG EVER!!

User3 Still not other drivers

User4 let it go girl they aren’t obligated to like or interact with things that aren’t f1 related and also them it is only max than needs to do that because he is her team mate.

User5 The party part was amazing

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Instagram

Liked by ConanGray and 927.936 others

Y/nmusic Close to you out now!!! Also you can buy some new vinyls!! And now I PROMISE that the next post will be the track list!!

View all 7.636 comments

User6 Bad!

User7 stop being so childish bro you are 18

User8 BOTH AMAZING SONGS!

User9 JUST LET ME BE CLOSE TO YOU!!!

User10 CLOSE TO YOU

User11 CLOSE TO YOUUU

User12 your so gorgeous

User13 💛💛💛💛💛💛

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Instagram

Liked by TaylorSwift and 1.276.286 others

Y/nmusic Finally! It is here! The long awaited track list!! It will all be yours July 9th!!

View all 183.736 comments

Taylorswift Finally! Our little secret is out!!

OliviaRodrigo So proud!!

SabrinaCarpenter Aaaahhhhhh!!

User1 TAYLOR SWIFT?!?!

User2 it’s kind of funny that this is one of the only posts that the drivers like……

User3 I LOVE YOU IM SORRY?!

User4 og y/n fans know I miss you, I’m sorry

Yourusername OMG YOU REALLY ARE AN OG!!

User4 OMG HII!

User5 Charlie?! Blowing smoke?!?! What is this?!?!

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Instagram

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 972.826 others

Y/nmusic ‘The secret of us’ OUT NOW!!! Thank yiu somich to everyone that helped to make this possible!! I also took this time to thank my friends with helping me through this. You helped me both mentally and practically. I love you all

Comments are limited

OliviaRodrigo 💛🫶

SabrinaCarpenter love you😘

Y/f/n 😘😍🥰

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Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 2.183.936 others

Y/nmusic I had an amazing time playing with you Taylor. It was an honour to play with you on Milan n1!

View all 238.926 comments

Taylorswift always an honour to play with you💛 liked by author

Charles_Leclerc it was amazing seeing you

Landonorris What a great song

User6 not the drivers in the comments😭😭

User7 the drivers are begin for forgiveness now that she is FAMOUS famous

User8 it was rare I WAS THERE!!

User9 it was so funny to see how almost no one knew the text but also so sad cause it is such a good song😭😭

User10 This being at the show where Charles Pierre and a few other drivers where is so funny to me😭

User11 but it could just be accidental

Uset10 it could but they were in the section were all the people are that are invited by Taylor

User12 I LIV ETHEIR FRIENDSHIP!!

User13 best driver fr

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ilovemilestellersmoustache · 26 days ago

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Chase Two Girls, Loose The One

WC: 1.4K

Summary: Connors priorities drift and it gets him to a spot he knows he can’t get out of.

The night was suffocating.

Y/N stood in the middle of a crowded house, the air thick with the smell of spilled beer and perfume. Laughter echoed around her, but she couldn’t focus on any of it. The music was too loud, the lights too bright, and she felt out of place in her heels and lipstick. Her eyes flitted over her friends, who were already too drunk to notice her unease, and she clenched her fists, wishing she were anywhere but here.

She hated parties. Hated pretending she was having fun when all she really wanted was to be at home, in her room, curled up in one of Connor’s old vintage t-shirts. They were soft, comforting, and smelled faintly like him—like those late nights spent with his arms wrapped around her, whispering about nothing and everything under the moonlight. She missed those nights.

But here she was, surrounded by people she didn’t care about, trying to force a smile while the one person who mattered wasn’t even looking at her.

Connor was across the room, talking to Katie.

Katie—the girl who had slowly, steadily, started occupying more and more of Connor’s time over the last few months. The girl who had gone from being a distant acquaintance to what he now called “a really good friend.” Y/N hated how casual that phrase was when it felt like a punch to her gut every time he said it. A good friend, as if that excused how often he spent time with her, how often his phone lit up with texts from her when they were supposed to be spending time together.

She felt her throat tighten as she watched him laugh at something Katie said, his head tilted just the way it used to be when they’d sit in the backseat of his car, talking for hours, stealing kisses between conversations. She couldn’t help but wonder—did he laugh like that with Katie? Did he draw stars around her scars? Did he dance under the streetlights with her? Did he hold her hand the same way, kiss her the same way?

She wanted to scream at him, at the whole situation, but all she could do was stand there, feeling hollow.

It wasn’t like Connor was a bad boyfriend. He was sweet in all the ways that counted. He’d walk her home late at night, carry her books between classes, and whisper sweet nothings only for her to hear. He made her feel like the center of his world—on the weekends. Because that’s what it had come to, hadn’t it? She got his weekends, while Katie seemed to have him the rest of the week.

He swore it was nothing. That Katie was just a friend, that Y/N was the one he loved, the one he wanted. But when you’re young, people assume you know nothing, that you’re being irrational. That was what Connor always said, wasn’t it? “You’re overthinking it, babe.” Or, “Come on, don’t be jealous. She’s just a friend.”

But Y/N wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t some clueless girl who couldn’t see what was happening right in front of her. She knew what it looked like. She knew the way Connor had changed—the way his texts were shorter, the way his kisses sometimes felt absent, like his mind was elsewhere.

Her friend Inez had been the first to say it out loud, to whisper the truth Y/N had been trying to bury deep inside herself for months.

“Y/N,” she’d said, leaning in close one afternoon at lunch, her voice low and careful. “I heard something… about Connor and Katie.”

Y/N’s heart had dropped into her stomach, a slow, sickening spiral. She didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to know. But she had to.

“They’ve been hanging out a lot,” Inez continued, biting her lip as if she didn’t want to say more. “But… I heard they’ve been doing more than just being friends.”

Those words shattered her.

She had confronted Connor later that night. She’d stood in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, trying to steady her shaking hands as she asked him, point-blank, “Are you seeing Katie?”

His eyes had gone wide, his mouth falling open in shock. “What? No! Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t lie to me, Connor,” she had whispered, her voice breaking. “Please.”

He had stepped forward, reaching for her, but she had flinched away. “Y/N, I promise, it’s not like that. Katie and I—she’s just a friend. That’s it. I would never—”

But she had heard enough. The late nights, the missed calls, the way his attention had drifted—it all added up. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing with Katie what he used to do with her. The way he looked at her, the way he seemed to care more about spending time with Katie than being with Y/N… it was too much. She couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t keep ignoring the pit in her stomach, the ache in her chest every time she thought about them together.

So she had broken up with him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Connor,” she had said, her voice shaking, barely above a whisper. “I can’t keep pretending that you’re mine when it feels like you’re someone else’s.”

He had looked at her like she’d just stabbed him in the heart, his eyes filled with desperation. “Y/N, no. Please, don’t do this. I love you.”

But love wasn’t enough. Not when she felt like she was competing with someone else for his attention. Not when every time she looked at him, all she could see was the way he smiled at Katie.

“I’m sorry,” she had whispered, tears burning in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

And then she had walked away, leaving him standing there, his hands hanging limp at his sides, his face a mixture of shock and devastation. It had torn her apart, but what else could she do? She couldn’t live with the constant doubt, the constant fear that she wasn’t enough, that someone else had taken her place in his heart.

Now, standing in the middle of the party, watching him with Katie, that hollow feeling in her chest only grew. She felt like an old cardigan, one he had worn out, left behind, only to pick up again when the thrill of something new had expired. She knew he’d come back. He always did, didn’t he? He’d show up on her front porch under the light, looking regretful, apologizing, promising he’d be better. And maybe, for a while, he would be. But it would always end the same.

She knew this because Connor was the kind of boy who lingered like a tattooed kiss. Even when you thought you’d moved on, he left his mark, haunting your thoughts, your memories, your “what-ifs.” His smell would cling to your clothes, his laughter would echo in your mind, and no matter how much time passed, he’d always be there, a ghost of the boy you once loved.

Y/N glanced at the door. She could leave now. Slip out, change into one of his old tees, crawl under her blankets, and let the silence of her room envelop her. But she stayed. She stayed because some part of her—some small, foolish part—was still waiting for him to notice. For him to look across the room, see her standing there, and realize what he was losing.

But he didn’t. His attention stayed on Katie.

She turned away, swallowing the lump in her throat, and made her way to the kitchen, needing to put some distance between herself and the sight of him with her.

As she stood by the counter, staring blankly at the red solo cup in her hand, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her heart skipping a beat when she saw his name on the screen.

Connor: Can we talk? Please?

Her thumb hovered over the screen, her heart warring with her mind. She knew what would happen if she replied. He’d apologize. He’d tell her he made a mistake, that he missed her, that things would be different this time. And she’d believe him. She always did.

But then what? A few months down the road, they’d be right back here. She’d be standing at another party, feeling alone, while he laughed with someone else. She couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep letting him in, only to watch him drift away.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she typed out a response.

Y/N: There’s nothing left to say, Connor. It’s over.

She hit send before she could change her mind, and then she slipped her phone back into her pocket, ignoring the way her chest tightened at the thought of him reading her message.

The night felt colder, the noise around her more distant. She was alone, really alone now. But maybe that was what she needed. Maybe, for the first time in months, she could start figuring out who she was without him.

As she left the party, the cool night air hit her like a wave, and she breathed it in, letting it wash over her. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or the day after that, but for now, she was free.

And that was enough.

#connor bedard #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard x reader #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #chicago blackhawks #trevor zegras x reader #nhl x reader #matt rempe #matt rempe x reader #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes x reader #Spotify

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fuctacles · 7 months ago

Text

Trans is fine, but you better not be a Swiftie!

For @subeddieweek Day 5 | T | 1502 | cw: hinted transphobia | transfem Steve, PDA, rockstar Eddie, jealousy, possesive Stevie, bitchy Stevie | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

It took the whole of Corroded Coffin to convince her to go to the concert. It may make her sound like an unsupportive girlfriend, but she hasn't been to any of their gigs in months. Eddie never complained about it, aware that metal concerts aren't for everyone, even if they do like the music. She's also hit a weird stage in her transition when she didn't feel like going to public events.

But here she was, at their first solo concert, no festival to crutch on. In the newest band t-shirt, one she saw through every stage of designing, her tits barely making a dent (Eddie had a different opinion on that topic), while two skanks next to her had her cleavages on full display in their tiny cut-up t-shirts.

They were in the VIP lounge, waiting for the band to emerge from backstage. Stevie could have been there with them, but the rush and heat behind a concert like this gave her a worse headache than the actual music. So instead, she had to sit there with two textbook examples of a groupie. And one of them looked meaner than Carol, back from high school, when she didn't get her chocolate pudding.

"You sure you're in the right place?" one of them finally speaks up.

Stevie looks pointedly at her band t-shirt.

"Is this not a Taylor Swift concert?" she asks, eyes going wide. The second girl presses her lips, holding back a laugh. The first one narrows her eyes, though.

"Don't sass me, girlie, you know what I mean," she hisses. "Wearing plain jeans and a hoodie to meet Eddie Munson? That's so disrespectful."

Stevie wouldn't call her jeans plain. They were expensive mom-cut and made her ass look good. The girl didn't need to know she treated them like a premium version of sweatpants. And the hoodie was Eddie's. He gave it to her before going on stage tonight.

She shrugs off her words.

"I don't think he'll mind."

The girl scoffs.

"Oh, he's too nice to say anything, but he'll know you're a poser. Who goes to a metal concert dressed like that? He'd never go for you."

Stevie raises her eyebrows, taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse you," the girl barks back, nonsensically. Her friend touches her arm as if giving her a sign to back dial it down, but she either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore her. "You don't look like you're here for the music, hell, you probably can't name a single song!"

(Stevie named some of them herself.)

"So you must be here for Eddie," she concludes with a sneer.

"Well, I am here for him," Stevie deadpans truthfully. This seems to further fuel her VIP lounge companion.

"Keep dreaming. He's into real metalheads," she says haughtily, popping the collar of her battle vest. It's so cartoonish it takes everything from Stevie not to burst out laughing. "What do you even listen to? Country?"

"Taylor Swift, I already told you."

"See, Eddie hates normies like you. Swifties are so fucking mainstream, you'll just embarrass yourself. Maybe you should go," she suggests with a pointed look.

Stevie gives her a pitying smile back. Clearly, she wasn't as big of a fan as she claimed to be if she hadn't seen the photos of Eddie in official Taylor Swift merch that were trending just a couple of months ago.

"Eddie's looking for someone real, not a fake bitch like you."

She was going to play nice, but that was taking it too far. She felt her hackles rise and her face turned into a frown.

But before she could say anything, the second girl slapped her friend on the chest.

"What the fuck, dude?! You can't just say shit like that!"

"Like what?!" She slaps her back. "Do you think she actually cares about their music? She screams fake pop shit!" She throws her hand back, motioning at Stevie.

Who was too taken aback to react at this point.

"Fuck, I thought you were being transphobic." The girl lets out a nervous laugh. "Sorry."

"What?" The first girl takes a glance back at Stevie like she hasn't noticed before. It was kind of flattering, considering she wasn't that far in her transition, but she wouldn't take an idiot's oversight as a compliment. "I don't care about that! Mainstream music is a bigger sin than being transgender!"

"I'll drink to that."

The band chose this moment to appear at the steps to the lounge, Eddie raising the water bottle in his hand in a mock cheer.

"Eddie!" The two girls stand up in unison, and it takes all of Stephanie's willpower not to roll her eyes. Instead, she gives a wry smile to Jeff, who seems to be in a similar state of mind.

"We're here too, you know," he murmurs under his breath.

Gareth nudges his arm.

"Well, I'm glad they're not here for me," he whispers back.

Stevie snorts after hearing that, but the girls are none the wiser, too preoccupied with their beloved frontman.

"Hello ladies, hope you didn't wait too long," he greets them, accepting their enthusiastic hugs and letting them kiss his cheek.

Stevie keeps her face carefully neutral.

"It's okay, we know you're exhausted after the concert." The first girl smiles sweetly at him, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Stevie not to gag at the shift in attitude. "I'd wait the whole night to meet you." She might need a bucket right now.

Eddie laughs nervously, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

"Ashley and Xena, right?" he asks.

"I'm Xena!" The girl exclaims, clearly proud of her unusual name. Stevie does roll her eyes this time.

Gareth appears in front of her, snickering, and she punches him softly in the thigh before raising the same fist to fist bump him. He offers her the tray of cookies he picked up from the table.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." She shrugs and picks up one of the cookies. "Thanks."

He nods and retreats to one of the couches. There are three of them, set up in a triangle around a table with snacks and drinks. Which is very convenient, making Stevie think Chrissy has planned it out.

"You already know them, but it's rude not to introduce my friend." Eddie grins, making room for the rest of the band to properly greet the fans. "This is Jeff, Gareth, and Grizzly the Teddy-bear. He gives the best hugs," he says with a grin. Ted rolls his eyes.

"Just Ted is fine. But I do give the best hugs." He grins.

Eddie leaves them to it and finally goes to sit next to his girlfriend, throwing his arms over the back of the sofa and sinking into the cushions.

"I'm so tired," he groans.

"Too tired to greet me properly?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. She can feel the eyes of the other girls on them.

"Never." Eddie raises his head immediately. "Sorry, baby." He leans in to kiss her on the cheek, but she moves her head away.

"I said properly," she repeats, but her tone shifts into her more authoritative one. He hesitates for a millisecond, but his eyes don't even shift away to look at their surroundings. Stevie enjoys the power trip, seeing him uncaring of who's looking and where they are.

"Of course, sorry," he amends, straightening up to go in for a proper kiss.

He lets out a surprised whimper when she dominates it immediately, grasping his chin and claiming his mouth like she's been starving for it throughout the whole concert. Eddie goes limp in her grasp, but she wants to make it clear who he belongs to. She grabs his knee possessively, angling him even more towards her, and her other hand moves from his chin to his hair. His locks are damp with sweat after the concert, but she doesn't mind, because it's exactly how she likes him. Dirty, unkempt, falling apart under her hands.

She tugs at his hair, messing further the haphazard bun he's tied it into. He sighs, melting further into her, and it makes it easier to grasp his thighs and pull him into her lap. They finally part with a wet smack, and she can look into her boyfriend's glossy eyes.

"There's my good boy," she praises. "Hi."

"Hi," he croaks back with a dazed smile.

"Booo, get a room!" one of their friends speaks up.

Eddie groans and hides in the crook of her neck, too weak from the kiss to face the teasing yet. So Stevie takes over the social interaction for him, lacing her hands together at the small of his back while he collects himself. She sticks out her tongue to Gareth.

"Shut up, we'll behave now," she says, before turning to the two girls, her jaws shattered on the floor and there to stay for her to stomp on. She smiles charmingly at them. "You guys were saying?"

Shameless plug: @stevieweek

#cj x subeddieweek #subeddieweek #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #steddie #stevierything #transfem stevie harrington #transfem stevie #stevie harrington #transfem steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #trans steve harrington #mine

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finelinefae · 6 months ago

Note

Bestie I literally just read flower and I’m OBSESSED and I can imagine y/n trying to turn tattooh into a swiftie whilst he tries to explain the rap beef to y/n 😭

no bc this was such a good and unique idea i had to write a little something for it !!

wordcount: 1.3k

. . .

“Okay, so what was it again?” Y/N asked, a dip between her brows as she fastened the bow on a bouquet of flowers she was completing for a baby shower they had been invited to next weekend.

“So Kendrick-”

“The guy who featured on Bad Blood?” Y/N double-checked.

Harry chuckles, “I mean he’s also a Pulitzer Prize winner but that too.” She nods, waiting for him to continue, “So he featured on a song with a bunch of other artists basically taking aim at J Cole and Drake-”

“Oh I know him, he posted a picture of him and Taylor on his Instagram that one time two years ago,” Y/N says.

Harry nods, desperate to finish explaining to her the current online events he had been obsessively keeping track of over the past twenty-four hours, “Right, right. So anyway,” Harry continued to explain the ongoing tension in the world of rap circling the internet with Y/N nodding a long, nothing but confusion on her face.

Amongst many things, Y/N and Harry’s music tastes were polar opposites. Whilst Y/N loved pop - Taylor Swift, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo - Harry tended to lean more towards alternate music, genres like rap and grunge or anything before the 2000’s. He loved rock bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam. On their first New Year’s Eve together, they’d spent the entire night at a karaoke bar in the city, four Shania Twain sons deep by the time the clock hit midnight.

Although they were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to their music tastes, they loved talking to each other about what they were listening to. They would share their weekly Spotify stats over dinner at the end of each week and make playlists for each other to listen to whenever they were taking the train somewhere.

As Harry finished explaining, Y/N picked up the bouquet and carried it over to where he was sitting, placing it on the table in front of him.

Even as he was speaking, Harry automatically reached out to slide an arm around her waist beneath her fuzzy, pink cardigan rubbing circles with his thumb over the exposed bit of skin on her hip.

“That sounds… really complicated, H.” Y/N sighed, “I’d hate to get into an argument like that.”

Harry smiled at how adorable she looked with pouty lips and concern on her face, “Lucky for you flower, y’ much too difficult to get into any kind of argument with.”

Harry and Y/N rarely had major arguments. Typically, their disagreements were over minor or unimportant matters, often ending with Harry showering her with kisses as an apology or Y/N clinging to him until he forgave her.

“And he wants Drake to die?” Y/N gasps, “That’s awful.”

Harry nods, watching her hands carefully move around the flowers in the bouquet to get them in the perfect place. “Hmm, ‘s not the nicest thing to say to a person,”

Y/N sighed, sitting on his thigh when her legs got too tired from standing. His lips puckered against the base of her exposed neck from where she had tied her curls up with a scrunchie. He inhaled the floral perfume he had bought her for Valentine’s Day. She was obsessed with it, dousing herself in it every morning and before she went to bed.

“Have you listened to Taylor’s new album by the way?” Y/N wondered, turning to hook her leg over his other thigh so she was straddling him. She was pressed between him and the worktop, her arms moving around his neck and fingers fiddling with the curly baby hairs by his neck.

Harry winced, “Ummm…”

“Harry,” Y/N huffed, “You said you would listen to it so I could talk you through it track by track.”

“I know! I’m getting to it, y’know I’ve jus’ been busy this week.” Harry stated, which was true. It had been the school holidays and a lot more customers had visited both their shops than usual.

“The album came out weeks ago,” Y/N said, pushing herself off of him to start putting everything away for tomorrow.

Before she could take one step, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, “I will, baby - promise, I’ll get to it and then y’ can talk for as long as y’ want all about it. Y’ can even put your pj’s on and show me y’ little dance y’ used to do when I heard y’ havin’ y’ little solo parties before we met,” He smirked against her neck.

Y/N blushed, clearing her throat and moving away. Her eyes narrowed, “You better.” She walked back to the front desk, “And they weren’t solo parties! Marsh was there too,” She said, referring to her little cat.

. . .

During her lunch break, Y/N reached for her bag to eat the pasta salad Harry had prepared for her that morning before they left for work. When she unzipped the bag, she found his Star Wars lunchbox inside instead of her own.

She slid off her seat and walked straight to his tattoo shop next door, knowing he had probably mixed up their lunches and ended up with her Cinnamoroll one.

She pushed the door open, expecting to hear the strums of an electric guitar or the low grovel of an indie rock band playing over the Bluetooth speakers. But instead, she was shocked to hear the voice of her favourite singer.

Her heart soared even before she saw him as she walked past the front desk. "Hey Mike, what's with the music?" She asked as if she didn’t know already.

“Harry insisted he put it on this morning. You have to go in there and tell him it’s killing the vibe.” Mike grumbled, taking a puff of the vape in his hand.

Y/N smiled, “I quite like it.”

“Of course you do,” He rolled his eyes.

Y/N walked through to the back rooms where she heard the steady sounds of a tattoo gun. Her eyes found Harry, deeply focused on the design he was tattooing on someone’s wrist.

Y/N stood to one side and waited patiently, “Okay that’s all done,” Harry clicked his tongue, pushing his chair away and wrapping up the tattoo for the customer.

After the customer had left, she stepped into the room, “Hi Harry,” She beamed, floating over to him. He looked so cute and cuddly today, wearing a grey sweatshirt and black trousers with his usual Doc Martens and a navy-coloured beanie to cover his curls.

A smile carved onto Harry’s face, “Hi flower,” He removed his gloves and met her halfway, pulling her into a hug and kissing her softly.

“Missed you,” She murmured against his lips.

“Miss you always, flower.” He brushed a loose curl behind her ear, “Thought I wasn’t meeting y’ ‘til later?”

“Oh,” She pulled out the lunchbox and handed it to him, “I think we got our lunches mixed up,”

Harry furrowed his brows, grabbing the plastic bag with his lunch inside only to find her pink lunchbox instead. He chuckles, “Ah, must have been the early morning getting to me.”

“S okay,” Y/N grins, “I like your music choice by the way.”

Harry smirked, “Promised a girl something,”

“Oh really?” Y/N’s grin deepened, “Well I’m sure she’ll be very happy you kept your promise.”

“I’ve been thinking about her all morning, getting to hear her talk non-stop later about her favourite songs.” He says, her arms sliding up his torso to meet at the back of his back.

She stood on her toes, his head dropping and their noses brushing together, “All morning?”

“All the time,” He breathes, “Can’t seem to stop thinking about her since I met her.”

“Hmm, well she’s a very lucky girl.” Y/N murmurs.

His lips met hers, the low light above shining down on them as the Tortured Poets Department came to an end and ‘Lover’ played on shuffle over the speakers of his tattoo parlour.

#harry styles fic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #fic rec #harry edward styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #flower series #tattooartist x innocent reader

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wonysugar · 1 year ago

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hate rodrigo (literally) | aeri uchinaga

a/n: this is not even a fic this is a tiny little one shot that i wrote yesterday night AT LIKE TWO AM due to thoughts we had in a discord server ahem anyways I FELL ASLEEP THO. soo have this now!!

genre : really bad crack smut like i genuinely have no idea how to describe this

word count : like 600 something?

tags : one shot, smut (obvs), crack, ptv mention, falling in reverse mention, olivia Rodrigo mention, mcr mention, taylor swift mention (sorry @pupyuj)

pairing : angsty!giselle x whitegirlmusic!femreader (I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO LABEL THISSFJEKF)

your music taste wasn’t something you particularly shared with people, but you didn’t hide it, either. to you, it was music, nothing more, nothing less.

however, one of your friends, aeri, took music very, very seriously, and it really showed. she had a certain aesthetic, she wore certain things and god, did she listen to certain music.

“no like i genuinely can’t grasp the fact that you unironically listen to olivia rodrigo?” she laughed, leaning back on her bed as you stared at her in disbelief.

“god aeri, some of her songs are good, you just haven’t tried them.” you snapped back, wearing a convinced smile as you proceed to jokingly hit her arm.

“okay, sure, whatever. but just imagine getting to know someone, going on dates with them, all the sha-bang. then, when it’s time to get down and freaky, they turn on their sex playlist and motherfucking driver’s license starts playing??”

she was basically cackling at that point and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. defending your cause seemed like it would’ve been difficult, with how far up her own ass she was.

“yeah, because that isn’t a sex song? olivia rodrigo doesn’t make fucking sex music?? try putting a falling in reverse song while you get naked, see how that works out for you.” you fight back.

“oh i don’t know about you, but i’d be soaked for sure. plus, anything would be better than hearing young adult women sing about their previous relationship like it was a war they fought in.” she kid, crossing her arms in victory, as if she even won the argument in the first place.

“i’m gonna make you swallow those words right back up, uchinaga.”

“try me, l/n.”

“f-fuck y/n, go- mmh- slower..”

so, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way!

it originally was just the both of you, taking turns and putting different songs on the bluetooth speaker and rating them based on ‘how wet it got you’.

turns out, while that was a theory stage, there seemed to be a practice one too, and you’ve been in it for the past 10 minutes now.

thrusting your fake cock in and out of her, paying no mind to the very loud, very obnoxious pierce the veil song that was playing in the background, you pinned her hands above her head. your pace increased with time, and the decibels of her voice increased with the pace.

“oh my god y/n pleasepleasepleasepleasee i’m s-so sorry i- fuck me- i didn’t mean-“ she cried, poor thing probably didn’t even realize that her black eyeliner was running all over her cheeks. her arms and legs wrapped around you,

“shut your fucking mouth and take it, you emo fucking cumslut.” you slammed your strap into her as she yelled out your name. while she was pleading and begging for something, you were on top of her perfect laying-in-mcr-bedsheets body.

she, herself, wasn’t aware of what she was begging for, her mind was completely blank. all she could think about was how good her pussy felt when you pounded it so violently, when you were being so aggressive with her that you just used her body however you wanted.

you thought that whole thing would be a one-time occurrence, but no, it happened a second time, when she said that taylor swift had mid music. was she doing it on purpose or something?

anyways,

yes, you fucked her with the 1989 album playing.

#smut #kpop gg #female reader #aespa smut #aespa #smut aespa #aespa giselle smut #aespa giselle #aespa giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x female reader #aeri uchinaga #aeri my love #giselle smut #giselle #giselle x reader

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riordanness · 5 months ago

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okay so every single (okay some) pjo character and their opinion on taylor swift bc that’s all i think about:

percy jackson: isn’t the biggest swiftie in the world but adores her music if it’s on. he owns at least two copies of the 1989 cd and his fav song to blast while skateboarding is welcome to new york ofc.

annabeth chase: absolutely loves taylor, probably really resonated with her lyrics and storytelling style tbh. her favourite albums are definitely 1989 (the beach-y california vibe yk), lover, and midnights and folklore and evermore and fearless and reputation and speak now. (what can i say—she’s a swiftie)

grover underwood: he’s a music guy. ofc he likes taylor swift. probably only knows like four songs total, and they’re all from like debut and fearless but hey. that’s something.

piper mclean: you can’t tell me she doesn’t ADORE reputation. and probably fearless too actually. definitely has some kind of merch (a signed cd??) in her room back home.

hazel levesque: obviously didn’t know anything about her but once introduced, loves folklore and evermore and the tortured poets department. soft and soothing songs are defo her thing.

leo valdez: old mate probably listens to all too well every day tbh. he doesn’t love her and definitely isn’t a swiftie, but red (especially the vault tracks and the songs written for hunger games) are always welcome.

jason grace: my boy knows nothing. nothing. but you bet he finds out about her eventually and doesn’t really have an opinion either way. he neither hates or loves or dislikes or likes. it’s just music to him.

frank zhang: probably likes debut. but probably also never really thought about her or knew much about her music bc of his grandmother and stuff yk.

nico di angelo: to anyone’s face: absolutely not. but secretly? oh yeah. he would totally listen to folklore and shit are you kidding me?? he’s such a swiftie.

reyna avila ramirez-arellano: yes and no. a couple songs in her playlist but not like. that much. she doesn’t really mind her and doesn’t really love her either.

luke castellan: he’s lowkey a hater. probably listens to kanye just to spite swifties and writes those hate comments on all her fanpages and shit yk.

thalia grace: she likes about half of the reputation songs and a couple of ttpd too. (especially look what you made me do). but she’s more into older music like green day (iykyk hehe)

silena beauregard: UH. YES. lover girl in the flesh. she is totally the camp’s biggest swiftie and is the one who got annabeth into her. she’d defo have merch and posters and have memorised everything.

clarisse la rue: silena made her do it. that’s what she’d tell you,and it’s true!! but she has a secret soft spot for a good taylor swift song.

chris rodriguez: knows about her through clarisse, doesn’t really give a damn about her.

charles beckendorf: BIGGEST SWIFTIE EVER headcanon okok. owns merch. posters. go to her tours. the whole shibing shabong iykyk

apollo/lester papadopoulos: duh. he’s the god of music bro. i think he would appreciate the literal music industry herself

meg mccaffery: no way. she’s a professional hater for the pure fun of it, has probably never heard a single song other than shake it off, and comments ‘kanye better’ on all her fan accounts

carter kane: tbh he would appreciate her lyricism a lot, but doesn’t strike me as someone who listens to that much music in general?? also he wouldn’t really know a lot of normal pop culture stuff necessarily, so…

sadie kane: she likes her. she likes everything. she’s a pop girlie fs, so reputation/midnights are her BANGER albums. she would definitely have some taylor swift on her ipod playlist, but she’d be more into avril lavigne, lady gaga, olivia rodrigo and stuff like that.

zia rashid: who’s taylor swift?

magnus chase: the only canon swiftie magnus you have my heart. he’s also a basic white girl, thank you very much. he literally (IN CANON BTW) recognises ‘blank space’ and ‘i know places’ and identifies them as taylor swift. so. yeah. he’s a swiftie fs

coach hedge: lol nope. he’d have the worst music taste of all time. NEVER give him the aux

sally jackson: she would LOVEEE evermore and speak now and debut, fight me. she’s also just the perfect person ever so ofc she loves taylor swift

paul blofis: would defo vibe to it imo, but would never put any songs in his playlist tho cause he’s boring ok maybe he would for sally’s sake. and estelle’s

#just so you know i’m the argo 2 so i know all this personally #source: trust me bro #percy jackson #pjo #walker scobell #percy jackson and the olympians #perseus jackson #taylor swift #annabeth chase #taylor swift and pjo #book percy #swiftie #percy jackson as taylor swift #pjo swifties #percy jackson x taylor swift #pjo headcanons #taylor swift eras

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underneath-the-sidras · 2 months ago

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I'm Addicted to the 'If Only'

for @nessianweek Day 2: Yearning

Summary: There were times. Times when the ale in her cup had softened the roaring in her head to a dull hum. When she was half asleep, or bewitched by a particular tune the string players were playing at the tavern. Times when Nesta's mind would wander towards the shimmering light in the back of her mind, and picture what could have been. With Cassian.

Nesta gets drunk and is simply a woman with fantasies / ACOFAS AU?

A/N: Felt cute, might delete later. I'm going to be honest, I've never done this before. Done what you ask? All of it! Unfortunately, an idea wiggled into my brain and I needed to write it out. Fortunately, the stars aligned and this worked out for Nessian week! That and @separatist-apologist is very good at convincing others to write their first fics. It's very imperfect, but I'd like to think of it as a way to thank all the wonderful writers in the Nessian community who have kept me well-fed with all their beautiful work for so long. This fic is inspired by the song "I Look in People's Windows" by Taylor Swift.

On AO3

-------------------------------------------------

Snow was falling over Velaris.

Nesta watched as flakes the size of silver coins dropped onto roofs and the heads of passersby as they bustled by the tavern window. The city would soon be completely covered in white, the snowflakes layering on top of one another in the street until they became an impenetrable sea of snow. She used to hate the winter in the mortal lands, how it ran their food scarce, how it forced her to rely on snuggling close to her sisters for warmth. But as she observed from the warm interior of the tavern, she was beginning to appreciate the harsh beauty of the coldest season. She liked the hard structure that came from the cold, finding it far more appealing than the dripping nature of the summertime. That, and maybe she had also begun to appreciate the isolation that came with the onslaught of colder weather. Fewer bodies on the streets meant less chance of running into certain fae.

It had been four months since the final battle with Hybern, and Nesta had since effectively removed herself from the inner circle. Her sisters were now free to live their lives without her, no longer having to dwell on old wounds and painful memories. And Cassian…her thoughts stuttered. She tried not to think about the Night Court’s general when she could help it, casting any lingering thoughts of him to the farthest corner of her mind.

But.

But there were times. Times when the ale in her cup had softened the roaring in her head to a dull hum. When she was half asleep, or bewitched by a particular tune the string players were playing at the tavern. Times when she would wander towards the shimmering light in the back of her mind, and picture what could have been. With him.

Would he hold her hand while they sat at the tavern, she wondered, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand as the music played. Would he press soft kisses into her hair and carry her home after she complained about her feet hurting? The corners of her mouth threatened to lift at the thought.

She would teach him how to dance, firmly placing his hands on her waist and admonishing him when they slipped lower. His warm laugh would rumble across his chest, and she could feel it now. Feel how they were pressed together, how warm and smooth his skin felt against hers, and how her heart would thunder as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

One kiss would turn into two, then three until he was backing her up towards the wall of her apartment, his hands fisting in her hair as she cried out “Cassian–”

“Miss?”

Nesta jolted up from where her head rested at the bar, the bartender looking over her with a mixture of pity and weariness. Her head turned over her shoulder to survey the room, suddenly aware of the vast emptiness of the tavern around her.

“Bar closed about a half hour ago,” he said apologetically, “Is there someone I can get to take you home?” Nesta shook her head, her cheeks heating. She rose quickly from her seat, swaying slightly from the alcohol.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” She said in a clipped tone. Using everything in her power to remain balanced, she made her way to the door, decidedly ignoring the concerned look of the barkeep.

The cold wind greeted her instantly, a welcome sobering feeling brushing across her face. Nesta breathed in the chilly air, the ale having warmed her enough that the cold was almost enjoyable. But the bartender’s question still nettled in her mind. Was there anyone to take her home? Who would want to take her home?

The image of the Night Court’s general flashed across her mind. Cassian, her mind seemed to sigh at his name. Would Cassian have taken her home? Perhaps if she had not refused to speak to him after the war, and he had not given up so easily, he would be here. It was impossible given their history, she knew that, but it was at times like these when Nesta’s mind liked to play games of pretend. Pretending she lived in a world where she wasn’t broken and Cassian had stayed. Would he come to nights at the tavern with her or meet Nesta to walk her home, not wanting her to walk alone on the street?

Nesta didn’t even know if Cassian liked music, or what kind, where his favorite tavern was, or what he liked to drink.

She didn’t want to know.

She was desperate to know.

It was nonsensical to wonder about these things, she knew, but Nesta’s whole body ached with how much she did not know Cassian, and how much he did not know her. He should not know her, the roar in her head tried to scream out, but the foolish part of her was louder as she continued to walk through the snow-laden streets of the city.

Did it feel alright for him to not know her? Was he tormented by it, wondering what she liked and where she was at every waking moment? Her stomach fluttered at the thought of it. Her drunken mind liked that idea, of him aching for her.

She pictured taking Cassian to places she liked to go, her favorite tavern where they had string players on weekends, the bookstore on the corner of her street, the bakery next door to it with the chocolate-almond pastries. Letting him get to know her, and enjoying it.

As her mind wandered, Nesta found her feet continuing to walk deeper into the city, eventually pulling her to one of the main shopping avenues of Velaris. There were crowds on the street this evening for some kind of street fair, bundled but smiling fae faces gathered around food stalls and art vendors in the street. Children chased each other, throwing snowballs with all of their might in sorts of make-shift battles.

Nesta’s foolish heart warmed at the scene. Had she been in her right mind, she would have turned back as she usually did from crowds. But tonight was different, tonight it was almost as if there was a soft golden glow around the edges of her vision, making everything seem beautiful and soft.

She pushed forward, staying at the edge of the busy street, her stomach grumbling at the scents coming from the food stalls. She watched as a tall male turned from one of the stalls, half of his long dark hair tied in a makeshift bun.

Nesta froze as her heart dropped into her stomach. It couldn’t be. What were the chances he’d be in this part of the Velaris?

She should run. She would say something stupid to him, she knew she would. Something recklessly idiotic. But as her heart beat faster, it was not from fear but from hope. Had he come to see her? Desire surged in Nesta’s chest, but her thoughts halted as the male fully turned.

It wasn’t him.

Stupid. The male wasn’t even Illyrian, he had no wings. She was losing her mind this evening.

Nesta didn’t often come to the busier parts of the city, instead opting to stay in her secluded area of Velaris where she wouldn’t happen to run into any of her sister’s chosen family. But on the rare occasions she did, she couldn’t help but wonder if Cassian would be wandering the streets as well. Both fearful and hopeful while imagining their eyes meeting while sitting in a cafe by the Sidra, or finding him drinking in the tavern next to hers.

If they did cross paths, would he reach out for her, or would he simply pass by? Nesta’s traitorous fingers twitched as she pictured it. Knew how her hands would unconsciously trail after him, how she would inhale his lingering scent to memorize it, even if he paid her no mind.

Her mind was running wild now that she had opened the floodgates. Fantasies of lives she could never have, dreams she would not share aloud even if someone tried to torture them out of her. Marriage ceremonies, children’s names, what their home would look like, and where they would live. Nesta would at first insist on living separately, the thought of living unmarried with a partner a bit scandalous still. But Cassian would sleep over so often, she would eventually acquiesce and he’d move in with her. They would have dinner together every evening when he was not away, Cassian cooking his favorite Illyrian meals for her. She would sleep on the left side of the bed, and him on the right, closer to the door. On hard nights, he would hold her extra close and run his fingers through her hair, soothing her with soft Illyrian melodies. For once her home, their home, would be warm and safe.

Again it was as though she could feel it now, how her ear would press into his chest and hear the steady beat of his heart, lulling her to sleep. Her eyes closed.

A boisterous male laugh sounded out from nearby, warm and mirthful. Nesta’s eyes flew back open as she jerked towards the source.

It wasn’t his laugh, but Mother did she want it to be. She closed her fists and took a breath, frustrated and entranced by all thoughts of him.

Home. She needed to go home.

Nesta’s steps finally took her back towards the quieter residential side streets of Velaris, her pathway illuminated by the soft glow from the windows lining the homes. She focused her eyes forward, deliberately looking towards the cobblestone at her feet. Cassian was likely in Illyria, as he usually was, training Rhysand’s armies or whatever he did up in those mountains. She had at least had enough sense not to glance towards the peaks that loomed in the distance, a subtle ache nipping at her to think of him so far.

Instead she turned her gaze to one of the windows of the homes on the street, a rose-golden glow emanating from within. A table of friends, four males and three females gathered around a verifiable feast of a meal, laughing and chatting amongst themselves as they ate.

Nesta stood there entranced, trying to picture herself at that table, with a group of friends enjoying her company like that. Friends. What would it be like to have friends? She had a few in their village growing up, most abandoning her when her mother passed and father fell into debt. The roaring in her head started, threatening the blissful barrier the alcohol had provided.

Would she ever feel at ease with a group of fae like that?

One of the males looked up and met her gaze, and for a moment she swore hazel eyes pierced hers. Her breath caught, as she fumbled back towards the street, walking once again, embarrassed to have been caught spying.

It wasn’t him, Nesta assured herself. But she couldn’t get the image out of her head, of him in one of these houses, seated at a dinner table. It was ridiculous. She wasn’t even sure if Cassian had friends in Velaris outside of the Inner Circle. But the idea had sunk its claws into her mind, a desperate, pathetic hope. Every building she passed, Nesta’s eyes flitted to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was inside. She had to know if he was there. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t know.

From that point on, each home she passed was like a scene laid out before her, inviting her to insert herself into the lives of the fae within. Countless lifetimes and possibilities transfixed her, as she continued to watch. It was no longer strangers she was gazing at, but her and Cassian. They were in their living room, dancing with their two children, Cassian picking her up and spinning her while their girls shrieked with delight. They were snuggled up on a sofa together, in front of a roaring fire, Nesta closing her eyes and leaning onto his shoulder. Not a single flinch crossing her face. They were cooking together, Cassian stirring and adding spices to a pot on the stove, while Nesta chopped up something on the counter. Her turning to put what she had been chopping into the pot and pressing a kiss to Cassian’s cheek, who turned to beam at her. They were seated on the floor of their living room together, her handing a beautifully wrapped box to Cassian, who proceeded to open it.

Back on the street, Nesta reeled back as though she’d been struck. A horrid thought clanged through her.

What day was it?

She remembered she had gone to the tavern earlier to listen to some music and have a few drinks before going somewhere.

To Feyre’s, she realized.

Feyre had asked her to come to the townhouse this evening because it was…solstice. The tavern had closed early and there was the street fair because it was solstice. She had gotten drunk in order to prepare herself to face Feyre and her family at solstice.

Suddenly the festive lights and music ringing through the streets came into a sharp clarity, overwhelming her fae senses.

Panic clawed at her throat, she could not go. She was not ready to face Feyre on her birthday, or Elain. Or Cassian. He would be there, her heart swelled, pulling her feet forward. On this day, she knew where he would be, who he would be with, she just needed to see him. Maybe this could be her one solstice present to herself, she reasoned, to prove that Cassian was not just a being made of whispered fantasies and alcohol-infused delusion. She would just take one look, and then she could go back to her apartment. It was madness, she knew it was, but the sharp sting of reality had not yet taken hold this night.

Her pace began to quicken, every step faster than the next before she realized she had no idea which direction to turn, thoroughly lost in the maze of the city and her mind in the dark hour. She spun around, almost losing her balance in the slick snow, completely at a loss. The ache in her chest had now turned into a sharp stab of hurt, only to be soothed by the sight of the dark-haired general.

She should turn back, she thought, towards the bustling avenue to start her search there, maybe she would even ask someone for directions. The idea of doing so would usually sour her stomach, but something stronger than fear was driving her tonight.

She began to walk purposefully, taking only a few steps before her feet skidded to a halt.

As though it had been dropped from the sky, the massive townhouse loomed before her. Bright festive lights twinkled among the bushes that lined the windows, taunting her as they danced, inviting her to step closer.

Her traitorous feet had been leading her this way the whole time, unbeknownst to her. Nesta bit her lip, did she dare to risk facing her sister’s family tonight? There was a split moment of hesitation before she moved past the front gate. It would only be a brief glance, as soon as she saw those hazel eyes and dark waves she would leave. It would only take a moment.

Nesta didn’t bother going towards the door, electing instead to creep along the outside of the home. What room would they be in at this hour? She made her way towards the right set of windows she remembered as part of the living room. She could only pray the Shadowsinger and her sister’s mate were inebriated enough to not be on their guard tonight while she spied.

Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as she drew closer, a rainbow glow of holiday lights from within grazed her face as she peered up. She had guessed correctly, the inner circle was gathered around the fire, wrapping paper strewn all over the plush carpet. They must have just finished opening presents. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at her sisters, so at ease in their new lives, openly smiling as they engaged in conversation. Good, she thought, though a hint of bitterness flooded her tongue, it was good that they were happier without her. But her sisters were not who she needed to see this night. Her gaze turned frantic around the room, trying desperately to alight on the male who haunted most of her waking and sleeping thoughts. Her gaze made no purchase. He was not there.

Was he in Illyria after all? She wasn’t sure she could bear that after all the torment this evening. So she waited, watching her sister’s chosen family enjoy their holiday, as they laughed and shared stories with bright eyes, drinking deeply from their cups. It was not too far off from what she would be doing inside the house anyway, watching the inner circle play their little games while she kept to the outskirts. She was growing restless waiting for him, the urge to barge inside and ask where he was, growing by the minute. But at long last she was rewarded.

Cassian stepped, or stumbled rather, into the room with a grin plastered across his face. His dark hair was mussed, likely having fallen out of his bun hours ago, and two bottles of wine clutched in his hands. The room let out a cheer at his entrance, and Cassian handed off one of the bottles to the Morrigan. Azriel made to reach for the other one, but Cassian waved him off, uncorking the bottle with his teeth before drinking straight from it. She could have sworn she saw a look of concern pass between the Shadowsinger and her sister as they watched him, but Nesta was not interested in them. Her gaze fixed upon the male seated towards the end of the long couch, his hand gripping the wine bottle like a lifeline.

She had said she would take one look, but she was a liar. She could not move even if she tried, her eyes greedily drinking in the male she looked for in every window and every sky. Her focus snagged on his lips, remembering the soft touch of them against her own on the battlefield. How often did she feel that phantom press in the late hours of the night. He was dressed in a dark red sweater this night, one that clung to the contours of his large frame, as if to torment her. Nesta could not help but imagine trailing her fingers over the material, what it would feel like, what the skin beneath that sweater would feel like.

Cassian let out a booming laugh at something that was said, loud enough for her to hear through the window, and never did she wish so much to have a device to bottle sound. But the smile that remained did not quite meet his eyes, which were intermittently flickering towards the door.

The Night Court’s general was drunk, that much was clear, but something was troubling him despite the merriment he tried plastering across his face. The Shadowsinger clapped a hand onto Cassian’s shoulder, in what seemed to be a comforting gesture.

So badly did she want to be the one comforting him, and yet hadn’t she been the cause of most of his misery when she was around? A sober realization made its way to the forefront of her mind; all she could do was cause him pain . Those beautiful dreams of their life together could only ever be dreams. The reality was that everything she touched had crumbled and turned to ash, but she would be damned if Cassian did as well. She needed to leave, go back to her apartment and try and forget this whole night had ever happened, for both of their sakes. Preferably with the assistance of alcohol. Nesta’s foot stepped back from the window, yet couldn’t stop herself from one last glance at the male inside.

Hazel eyes met hers from across the room. Shit. Cassian’s eyes blinked slowly before widening. There was the sound of glass shattering, as the wine bottle left his hand and dropped onto the floor. Shouts of alarm rose up from the rest of the inner circle, as they jumped up to help clean up the mess. Cassian’s form quickly disappeared out of the room, his hand bracing against the door frame as he pushed around it. She needed to leave, now.

She scrambled backwards, towards the gate, snow hitting her shoulder from the tops of the bushes as she darted by. She rounded the outside gate and stopped out of breath, hidden by the tall bushes that separated the townhouse from the street. There was the sound of the front door being wrenched open and frantic footsteps down the entry stairs. She didn’t dare to breathe as the footsteps crunched closer, hoping they obscured her own.

“Nesta?” Cassian’s voice was soft, almost hopeful. She had expected him to yell out in his drunken state, alerting the whole inner circle of her presence, but he hadn’t. The quiet sound of her name from his lips was a different kind of bliss altogether, pulling at something deep within her core. Her lips parted, desperately wanting to tell him she was there, that she was ready to try together this time, but no sound came out.

A second pair of footsteps followed from the front door.

“Cass? What is it?” Feyre’s concerned voice floated through the entryway. Nesta bit her cheek, to keep from making a sound. The only thing worse than Cassian finding her out here would be Feyre and Cassian finding her together. She didn’t think she could survive the look of pity she knew would cross Feyre’s face if she discovered her out here.

“I saw her,” His words slurred slightly from the alcohol, but were determined nonetheless. “I saw her at the window.” Feyre did not ask who it was he had seen, seemingly understanding, but she waited a moment before softly saying,

“I miss her too, Cassian.”

A weight had dropped into Nesta’s stomach, she could not bear to hear this conversation.

“She was at the window,” Cassian insisted, “She was here, I need to…” he trailed off. Nesta’s ears strained for the end of his thought, but nothing came. Perhaps he did not know how to approach her either, also frozen by the neverending stalemate the two of them found themselves in. Feyre inhaled a slow breath, as though she were about to explain something difficult to a small child.

“Sometimes it can seem like we see things that aren’t actually there. Things that we want to believe are there, but they aren’t,” she said gently. Another moment of silence followed. Feyre tried again.

“Why don’t we go inside? I think Rhysand and Amren were going to pull out the chessboard.”

No reply came from Cassian. Had they gone back inside? Nesta didn’t hear the door slam shut, but her heart was beating so loud she easily could have missed it.

“I think I’m going to stay out here,” His voice quietly sounded once more.

“Cassian–”

“Just for a bit,” He amended. Nesta could hear the smile he forced onto his face, “Go, enjoy your birthday, Feyre.” She must have listened, as after a moment Nesta heard the soft snick of the front door closing. It was agony being so few steps from him now they were alone, even if he did not know it. But she wouldn’t risk him, not again. So Nesta quietly made her way from her hiding spot back onto the main road, and for once she did not glance back.

The holiday lights in the street now looked garish against the soft white snow frosting the streets. Golden glows that had once emanated from the windows, now dulled to a pale yellow. The wind blew fierce as flurries turned blizzardous, but Nesta did not bother to close her coat against the chill. Already she could feel the press of a hangover against her forehead, the walk having sobered her from the peak of her drunkenness. With it, the starkness of her reality began to return, as though she had never left.

But as she turned the corner to her apartment, she allowed herself one final solstice present. She let her mind drift to a world in which she had run from her hiding spot that evening and into Cassian’s arms. He would lift her up off the ground, and they would stay there intertwined, swaying with unspoken apologies to one another. She would bury her face in his neck, inhaling his pine and woodfire scent, and it would smell like home. Her home.

One last time Nesta closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as though she would smell it now.

But only the cold rushed in.

#nessian #nessianweek2024 #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #nesta x cassian #Day 2: Yearning

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rabnerd28 · 7 months ago

Text

Watching Cats (2019) DvD Commentary

Thoughts as I watch:

Tom is literally basing this entire movie on the one time he saw Cats in 1981 when he was 8 years old

He called the movie a coming of age film about Victoria meeting characters that effect her and that Tugger represents the sin of lust (yes I am laughing)

He said abandoned three times in a row to describe Grizabella

Tom made up the thing about Grizabella used to be with Macavity happened because he wanted to cut out the idea that she was a prostitute

Has Bustopher eat trash because he thought that's what cats would be more interested in

The pause in Bustopher Jones when he says to gather the cats is a meta joke about the cats actually being people

The food was CGI

"Sees the implication of his unchecked appetites" in reference to Victoria and Bustopher Jones

Hooper brought his niece and nephew to set to play on the Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer set

He keeps insisting that there is a learning and growing arc for Victoria, but I have no idea what he's talking about

He has barely talked about the characters as actual characters and mostly just talks about how great it is to work with famous celebrity number five or how they're symbolical. I think he's making things up at this point

He added the love story because he thought Misto trying to figure out how to be a magician was a good parallel with Victoria's story of finding herself

Originally the first barge scene was longer with a lot of improv from James and Rebel as Growltiger went on

"Robbie Fairchild is brilliant" that is the only thing Tom said that makes sense

This man really said "women can be the god of cats in 2019"

Judie and Ian were the ones to decide that Gus and Old D had a thing...well at least they followed the pattern of cats actors making weird decisions for their characters

I've come to the conclusion that Tom chose his cast based on which famous actors he's always wanted to work with

Tom has no idea how to describe choreography...just like how he has no idea how to film it

Giving Victoria a solo to sing was ALW's idea

He thinks the call and response of Beautiful Ghosts and Memory is brilliant and doesn't understand how he fucked that up

They almost cut "Moments of Hapiness"

He keeps talking about how great this film is for women, but where is Demeter sir!

He didn't know that it's Jellylorum that sings Gus' song and because Ian couldn't tell what the relationship between the two was he cut out her singing it for him

He talks about the advantage of mixing the CGI with the practical clothing, and I'm like, you know what would be even better? No CGI!

I don't know who's playing Bomba, but she was the first person to be cast in Cats

He said that he thinks Macavity works better as a solo and it didn't need to be a duet...I have never felt more like murder in my whole life

Taylor Swifts dad gave him the idea for the catnip

He likes the idea of Macavity being evil yet still plays by the rules...why?

He's talking about the changes from the musical to Mr Mistoffelees, and boy is he not bringing up that Tugger is the one that sings the number

Talks about community like there was any in this movie

This man has no idea who Jemima/Sillabub is, does he?

He finally mentioned Mette Towley as Cassandra at least. Recognize that she's the best character in this film goddamit!

Apparently Munkustrap was supposed to be learning about leading this whole film...wat

Apparently he watched the 98 film several times while writing the script...and yet this movie is straight

I'm not watching the commentary for the end credits. Fuck I hate this man

#cats musical #cats 2019 #tom hooper #i will keep my gag of not knowing who that is going even on my tumblr #cats the musical #cats movie

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 5 months ago

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Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self. She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her.

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job.

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative.

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work.

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift criticism #anti swifties #ex swiftie #taylor swift #taylor swift critical #literary theory #literary criticism #pathos #rhetorical appeal #rhetoric #rhetorical situation

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nartml · 6 months ago

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To Pimp a Butterfly and 1989: a rant

Listen here, three things about me are that I'm a) white as snow, b) Greek, c) still a minor.

What does this mean? It means that I obviously wasn't raised with hip-hop, and I got into Kendrick Lamar's music pretty late.

As in, early this year.

I've known of him for some time, and the moment I found out he had a Pulitzer prize at some point in late-ish 2023, I decided I had to sit my ass down and pull out Spotify.

Now, as an avid reader of both fanfiction (ao3 raised me) and books [I feel the immense need to clarify that I don't associate myself with mainstream booktok. Capitalism's consumerism has overrun that shit and all I see are the same 20 books being recycled and recommended (a substantial amount of those are Colleen Hoover and her variants). Tropes and spice* are officially the defining factors of whether a book is worth it (*your porn addiction ain't cute) and quantity is heavily prioritized at the expense of quality. Also, diversity who?], I was, for a lack of a better word, hyped.

A Pulitzer prize is nothing to scoff at in general, more so in music, more so in hip-hop.

(Edit: Upon quick reflection, I realize that putting emphasis on hip-hop can come across as coded.

I am in no way, shape, or form trying to undermine hip-hop or say that it's somehow less 'sophisticated' than, for example, classical music. I'm very aware of the amount of skill and technique one needs to write a masterful hip-hop album, and I'm not doubting that there are hip-hop artists out there who are also incredibly deserving of such a prize. I meant it in the sense that I've unfortunately never heard of another hip-hop artist who won a Pulitzer before, which is quite telling.)

That's some huge shit, and I'd be a fool not to be intrigued.

Admittedly, I didn't get on that immediately. For a while I procrastinated, because I wasn't in the mood to hyper-fixate on anything new just yet.

Which of course meant I ended up forgetting about it for a few months, because of course I did.

But then I came across a TikTok that talked about how it was insane that '1989' won the Grammy when To Pimp a Butterfly was right there.

Now, a fourth thing about me is that I don't fuck with Taylor Swift.

And a fifth thing about me is that I'm not baseless in anything that I do, say or feel, and that includes annoyance.

Her immature understanding of activism and feminism leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The way she built up her fan base around this portrayal of her as a relatable girl's girl, her refusal to accept criticism, and always making a victim out of herself (even now when she's in her thirties and is a fucking billionaire) while never using her position of power and privilege for good are all reasons that serve to fuel my dispassionate dislike.

And before any Swifties get on my ass, no, I don't think that "But she's a singer! Why are you expecting so much out of her, she isn't even qualified to speak on XYZ—" is a good enough excuse.

She has always been rich, and now she's a billionaire. There are no ethical billionaires, and that includes her.

Fame is influence is power. Uncle Ben said it all: With great power comes great responsibility.

And let me tell you, I don't see her owning up to that responsibility, especially after all that talk about how she supports women, supports the LGBTQ community, and supports the BLM movement. Has she ever actually put her abundant money where her mouth is?

I've never seen her speak about anything that doesn't immediately concern her.

Don't get me wrong. She's not the only celebrity like this out there. I'm sure there are worse cases. I know it for a fact.

To wrap this segment up before I get even more sidetracked, I'll outright state that I don't hate her, because hating her would by definition mean that I, in some way, actually care about her, and that just sounds exhausting.

Best way to describe me is indifferent, leaning towards distasteful.

She's annoying.

And that's how I feel about both her as a person and her as an artist.

I'm not denying her talent, nor her impact on the industry, nor the fact that she does have good songs that even I like.

A select few, of course, but still.

Apart from those...what? Ten songs? I have never, ever been able to listen to any other song of her's all the way through.

I get bored. They do nothing for me. They sound empty. Hollow. Plastic. Repetitive.

Her lyrics, that are praised by fans for being deep and complex, sound pretty surface level to me.

Not all of them. But I'm a sucker for analysis. A literature nerd. Greek is my native language. I can tell when something's deep and when something wants to be deep.

(Not necessarily including Folklore and Evermore in that category. Her storytelling ability is actually great.)

Her music largely sounds like it wants to be deep.

Most recent example being her latest release, The Tortured Poets Department.

Anyway, back to Kendrick.

My initial plan was to listen to 'DAMN.' first, because that's what he won the Pulitzer for in the first place.

There was a change of plans after that TikTok.

I decided to compare the opening tacks.

I put on Welcome to New York, and predictably, I felt nothing.

The rhythm is dance-y, I suppose. But there's nothing substantial about it. There's nothing exciting about it.

The lyrics are juvenile, and I get it, it's a pop song and she was in her twenties.

Nobody is expecting Shakespeare (no matter how much you scream or kick your feet, the only reason Shakespeare couldn't write Taylor Swift is because he's in another league entirely) or Odysseus Elytis. Nobody is expecting mind-blowing lyricism.

But it's the opening track to an apparently Grammy-worthy album. The very least I'd expect from it would be some additional levels of artistry.

Am I being harsh? Probably. Do I care? No.

Disappointed but unsurprised, I put on Wesley's Theory.

I ascended within the first minute.

Don't get it twisted, I barely understood shit.

Not only am I white, I am also entirely removed from America and its culture as a whole. I don't know what's going on there in y'all's daily lives.

And this was baby's first proper introduction to hip-hop as a whole.

My untrained, white-ass ear barely caught two references. I got what the gist of the song was about, and that's about it.

I had to look up analyses of the track to fully grasp what Kendrick was on about, and even then, there was obviously still a disconnect.

And I expected all of that.

I didn't expect to get hooked on that song within the first listen.

I swear to fuck, the beat is addictive. I swear to fuck, even when I was fighting to understand what the lyrics were referencing, I was having the time of my life.

Even I, an amateur in every sense of the word, could tell that there was depth and there was quality and there was intentional meaning in every line of that song.

It didn't matter that I couldn't understand it. It mattered that I knew it was there. Not because someone told me that was the case. But because it was audible.

I listened to the next track. And the one after that. And the one after that. I had listened to all of the tracks, before I knew it.

And the evident permeance of quality, of substance, carried on throughout the whole album.

It had exactly the type of lyricism I'd expect a Grammy-worthy album to have. It had exactly the amount of artistry I expected a Grammy-worthy album to have.

Even better, it had all the ingredients I expected a timeless album to have.

The poetry Taylor Swift fans insist hides in her discography, I found in plain sight within Kendrick Lamar's.

After meticulously reading the lyrics, I watched video essay after video essay, searched for analysis after analysis on this album, each time understanding the meanings behind it a little better.

Needless to say that the Grammy's are rigged and I love Kendrick Lamar.

Hip-hop is gorgeous.

#tpab #to pimp a butterfly #kendrick lamar #he's awesome #hip hop #1989 #taylor swift #just to be safe #anti taylor swift

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justinsentertainmentcorner · 5 months ago

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Edith Olmstead at The New Republic:

Fans of 11-time Grammy Award–winning singer Dolly Parton came to her aid this week, in response to a tacky, homophobic hit piece published by a right-wing magazine.

The Federalist is a conservative outlet that has previously taken aim at Taylor Swift, accusing her of indoctrinating her listeners into man-hating feminism, a thinly veiled grievance about their inability to control the thoughts of young women. Now it’s taken aim at the Queen of Country herself, likely for much the same reason. The newest article took issue with Parton using her Christian faith as a rationale for her acceptance of all people, including those who identify as LGBTQ+. “Parton’s version of love, which includes condoning immoral sexual behavior, (be who you are she said), is unaligned with God’s vision for humanity,” the author wrote, going on to compare Parton to a secular leader spreading “false gospel.” Trying to cut down such a beloved figure and awarded philanthropist is pretty ridiculous, and especially ironic for a publication that previously published an article pushing for her to be the next president of the United States.

The Federalist’s Ericka Andersen went after Dolly Parton in her column, and she got rightly dinged for blaspheming the good name of Dolly Parton.

#Dolly Parton #The Federalist #LGBTQ+#Ericka Andersen #Anti LGBTQ+ Extremism #LGBT Christianity #Religion #LGBT Religion #Christianity #Mollie Hemingway

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midnightshaze13 · 5 months ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#taylor swift #the eras tour #ttpd #the tortured poets department #lyrics #ts the eras tour film #eras tour #haters #fans #swifties #eras attendees #conclussion #thank you aimee #no i don't like you

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