#not in that stage of their relationship at least.

[fiamat12]

Re: "What side do you want to get a pic? Yep." 📸

Oops he did it again. This time it was more polite than "Let's get this done" except his constant nostril flaring was a dead give away to his DIScomfort level. At least he doesn’t have a baby on the way in the next few days this time.

Bottom line: this *line* reads job, obligation, staged pose and not even w/ someone he seems very familiar. (Btw, A does sheepishly reply "This side" before he says "Yep"). If he's been dating her for 2 yrs., don't you think he'd know which side she prefers, and/ or is most flattering to her? If they pose for pics all the time, or hug all the time or have any sort of ongoing physical relationship, certainly he would know.

You know who L never seems to have to ask? His two apples tall co star, and "best friend" - the one who everyone seems to want him to marry. 💍

So girlfriend or posed PR? I'll let you think about that for the 20 secs it takes to watch the vid... Sunny the AI Robot decided in record brevity. Thx @jmuz09! ⬇️

Original video ⬇️

Half speed ⬇️

Close up ⬇️

[helpless-blond]

Retired!John Price x Pop-artist! Female!Reader

I had this little idea for a fic were the reader is a pop artist. She’s shy and reserved, her pop star persona a complete opposite that gives her confidence on stage. (She inspired by Raye’s songs, but you can see her as any artist that you see fit, or any music genre).

I’m crazy about this man at the moment

Content warnings: younger woman x older man (reader is in her late 20s and Price is his late 30s), mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating (on the reader, not by Price tho) masturbating and horny thoughts.

Word count: 2000

This is my first posted fic ever, so I hope you’ll enjoy it!

You are a talented singer with years of experience both on stage and in the producer booth. Industry veteran at this point. Mainstream media think of you as an overnight sensation, but the truth is that you’ve been working behind the scenes, creating hits for other artists for years. You’ve been around for a long time, but you never really got your big breakthrough moment.

You have few pop hits in your discography and your voice as well as the ability to paint the scene with your lyrics is what captured your small, but very loyal fanbase. You are reserved, not interested in venting your private life into the world. In truth you are very unproblematic, you don’t get into drama and don’t make many public appearances at galas, you barely go to any of those fancy events. You just want to make music that moves people.

So you moved to a small city in England about 2 hours from London. You lived in a small suburban house with a little front yard where you loved to lay down on a blanket and listen to your surroundings. Chirping of the birds as well as laughter of the neighbors kids, even the card passing by, it was so… normal, calm. The complete opposite of what your live has been for the past few years.

You cherished the quiet, that’s what you told yourself, even if it infuriated you at times. The silence made your thoughts run around, as if they tried to beat a marathon in half the time. So you busied yourself with writing your heart out, at the local cafe place. Every traumatic relationship or situation you found hard to heal from was written into your notebook, that turned helpless blabber into heart-wrenching songs.

Focused on your artistry you didn’t notice him at first.

Although it didn’t take much for you to spot him. The tall, well built, slightly older than you man, with magnificent beard. Your first interaction with him was a bit embarrassing if you had to be honest. He pointed out that you almost took his coffee instead of yours, which you apologized for, as you looked away nervously. After this little incident you exchanged a few smiles from a distance or a quick “hello” on the way in or out of the coffee shop. You overheard his name once as the barista called for him to get his coffee. John. It suited him, you thought so, even if you didn’t know him.

For some reason you kept on coming back to the coffee shop to write, hoping you’d see him again. You did. Multiple times you’ve seen him enjoy an afternoon coffee on Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays. You never came over to say hi, why would you? You were in your late 20s, but to him you must have seem like a kid. At least that’s what you believed.

So whenever you had the chance to see him you’d steal a glance or two, or three but who would count that. You’d admire him for a bit and then go back to your writing. Sometimes your eyes would meet the bright blue of his and you’d smile shyly, looking away quickly, feeling embarrassed that he caught you staring.

You told yourself that it was just a silly infatuation on a stranger, even though at night when you felt too lonely, he would creep into your head. Visions of him making you feel hot and bothered. You would slid your hand down your stomach slipping between your thighs. You would strach yourself with your fingers, mind filled with thoughts of him. Wishing it were his fingers stretching you out, dirty words spoken in the low tone, dripping like honey from his soft full lips, that so kindly wished a good day to the barista.

The moment you hit your high you were completely shocked with yourself, never having thoughts like that about anyone, especially not about strangers. The confusion and bashfulness you felt didn’t stop him from visiting your fantasies.

You did try to look for a wedding ring as he passed your table a few times. You don’t think you’ve seen one, but honestly what’s the chance a man like that doesn’t have a gorgeous wife waiting for him with a delicious dinner and a soft kiss on the cheek, placed there with her plump lips.

You couldn’t help but imagine he already must have everything he wanted, judging from his confidence and kindness. People who were unhappy rarely showed those two characteristics, at least from your experience. You felt ridiculous with how you felt about him. Your thoughts were running wild, only because of this man, which was so unlike you. You never got so attached to people especially, the ones you’ve barely spoken to.

At least that’s what you told yourself.

The truth was that you once again found yourself walking into the coffee shop, notebook in hand as you let the door close behind you. The aroma of coffee beans hit you instantly. The entire place felt packed even when there wasn’t many people visiting, but it didn’t feel crowded. That was one of the reasons you liked it here so much, it was cozy and warm, the space felt thick and heavy in a pleasant way, like a weighted blankek. Looking around you were trying to find an empty table to sit at. Not that you payed much attention, but John wasn’t around at the moment.

You ordered your favorite drink and sat down with it at a table hidden farther inside the coffee shop. You opened the notebook and read few of your most recent lyrics. The pages filled with words written in different colored inks, some were crossed out some circled and highlighted. You were almost done with 2 new songs that you were ready to try out in the booth. Sometimes you would come into the recording studio with only half a concept and just few key frazes and freestyle a bit. Right now though you loved what you were reading, feeling excited to sing it aloud at home again.

The lyrics made your chest feel tight. You were still getting over a bad break-up, many songs you’ve been writing focused on your failed relationship. Your engagement turned into a disaster with just few text from a guilt eaten girl who your then fiancé cheated on you with.

The next thing you knew was that you were alone, your shared apartment empty as you left. Trying to forget the last few years of your life, pretending it didn’t happen. First you moved in with your family, and just as quickly as you moved in you moved out. You loved them but it wasn’t right for you. So you moved in with your closest friends, the ones that made music with you. You’ve been through so much together. Few to many bad decisions, drunk nights spent with strangers and days waisted on crying in the studio, made you run away once again. Now, alone with your music you tried to heal. It was a process though.

You continued to write down your rawest feelings in short sentences that were stuck in your head the entire morning, sitting there scratching at your brain until you put them on paper. Then you’re free of them, a first step to healing.

Lost in your little creative bubble you didn’t notice John come up to your table. Your brows were frowning as you focused on a particularly tricky combination of words that didn’t flow right no matter how you rearranged them. You were biting your bottom lip, fidgeting with your pen as a deep velvety voice brought you back to reality and you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me, could I sit here?” He asked with a soft smile as he looked down at you. Your back straightened slightly as you fixed your posture from leaning over the notebook. You looked around quickly, realizing that all tables have been occupied by at least one person.

“Yes, of course.” You moved your things out of the way a little, to make sure you weren’t taking up too much space. You could feel your heart skipping a bit as he sat dawn at your table. You took notice of his shortsleeved button-up that showed his sculpted arms. You didn’t stare, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, your eyes on instinct going back to your notes, you turned the page so he wouldn’t see what you’ve been scribbling on about.

You could see from the corner of your eye how he adjusted himself comfortably in his seat. His eyes moved to you, the beautiful shade of blue sky, meeting yours. He smiled at you and offered you his hand.

“I’m John, nice to meet you.” You took his hand, his grip firm, but not strong enough to crush your delicate hand. Considered. You squeezed his hand back, giving him a soft smile as you introduced yourself.

“That’s a beautiful name, dear.” His complaint made you let out a breathless giggle. The little nickname making you blush. You felt a bit self-conscious about your outfit and hair all of the sudden.

“New around here?” It was more of a statement than a question, but you suspected it was a reasonable one. After all you moved here over 3 months ago, it took you some time to get used to your new house and surroundings. You’ve been visiting the coffee place regularly for the past month.

“Yes, I moved near by not to long ago,” you responded, averting your gaze from his. Looking back from time to time, your fingers playing with your notebooks page, curling in the page and rolling it out. “I assume you’ve been living around here for a while?”

“Yeah, I’ve lived here for a few years already, it’s a nice area, although there’s a lot of old people,” Price joked giving you a little wink at which you giggled. You have noticed the locality was mostly occupied by older people. There were few young families here and there, living close to their older parents. You knew it was a joke on himself as well, but you could tell he wasn’t as old as the joke would imply. You’d say he was 15 years old or 20 at most, which didn’t make you feel any less confused about your little crush on the stranger. At least now you two were introduced.

“So what is a young thing like you doing here?” You blushed a little, you might have looked a bit younger than you actually were, which made you feel self-conscious at times.

There wasn’t much to do around, few restaurants and coffee places, maybe four bars to go at night. There was quite a few small businesses around, but most of them were owned by local families, so in truth there wasn’t much for newcomers. You of course didn’t mind it, being a freelance artist.

„I was hoping to find somewhere nice and quiet,” you answered simply, as you brought the mug to your lips, taking a sip of your beverage.

„Sorry for intruding on your peace and quiet then,” he said with a little smile and you could feel warmth spreading through your chest, both from getting slightly nervous about what you’ve just said, implying he’s presence was unwelcome. His smile was the other reason for your sweater feeling a bit to warm all of sudden.

„Oh no no, that’s not what I ment, it’s really nice to meet you,” you assure him, face still blushing, one hand playing a bit nervously with the pages of your notebook that you were flicking back and forth, the the other holding the mug.

You two talked a little bit longer, about meaningless nonsense like weather or how the local super market is closing for a week because of pest control. When he finished his coffee, he bid you goodbye, giving you one last smile, before leaving the coffee shop. It was a while since you’ve spoken so casually and comfortably to a stranger. It made you feel light, as is he genuinely wanted to talk to you, not for his own benefit. It was refreshing.

You really hoped to see him again soon.

English is not my first language, so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes.

Thank you for reading 🩷🌸

[ghoul-slime]

Mushy May Day 7 - Better Now That You're Here

Once again very, very late with this entry! Thank you again @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

Summary: Dew injures himself on stage, Aether does whatever it takes to help him. 1,820 words.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, mild injury, fluff, established relationship, light angst, Aether is the boyfriend of all time

Read here on Ao3

Divider by @ghuleh-recs

Aether is lounging in bed, waiting for his nightly post-ritual call from Dew, when there’s a knock at his door. Right away he knows something is wrong, the hairs on his arms stand on end and his blood goes cold, his mind instinctually turning to the safety of his mate away on tour. His fears are only confirmed when he opens the door to see a nervous looking Frater Imperator on the other side.

Frater assures him Dew is safe before he breaks the news that he’d been injured during tonight's ritual. A fall offstage had left his mate with two broken bones in his foot and a bruised ego - but otherwise fine. Physically speaking, at least. But at only four shows in, Perpetua had expressed concerns over the fire ghoul being able to continue the tour. Human doctors could only do so much for an injured ghoul and Phantom, though talented, was still working on his quintessence healing abilities.

When he finally gets a hold of Dew on the phone, he sounds terrible. 

“Aeth, I…,” Dew trails off, voice shaky. Aether can tell he’s barely holding it together and the thought alone makes him want to cry sympathetic tears. “I fucked up real bad this time, Aeth. It’s only the fourth ritual and I can barely stand up. I… I’m afraid he wants to send me home,” Dew’s voice cracks and he goes quiet. Aether knows him well enough that he’s trying his hardest to fight back tears of frustration and disappointment.

Aether’s heart breaks. If Dew is admitting to being this hurt then it must be bad. Normally he’d brush an injury off and insist he was fine. Aether thinks back to the tour where he’d injured his shoulder, how he’d played night after night in pain before his body finally gave out, too stubborn to admit defeat until he couldn’t go on any longer. If Dew was admitting he was down for the count, then he truly had to be scared and hurting.

“Nobody’s sending you home,” Aether bristles at the idea of the new guy sending Dew back over an injury. “You belong on stage, Dew. You love performing more than anything. And besides, our pack needs you there.”

On the other end of the line, he hears Dew sniffle.

“Nobody’s sending you home,” Aether repeats, resolved. “I won’t let them. I’ll come there and fix you up myself. Just like last time.”

“Aether, what - no,” Dew sounds taken aback, ready to argue. “They’ll never let you-”

“I’m already on my way to the airport,” Aether cuts him off before he can spiral any further. Papa - I mean Frater, booked me the earliest flight we could find. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

He hears Dew exhale a shaky breath, but otherwise he remains quiet.

“Just get some rest for now. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay,” Dew answers, still uncharacteristically quiet. The exhaustion in his voice is apparent. Then he adds, “Love you, Aeth.”

“I love you too, Dew. More than anything,” Aether answers. “I’ll be with you soon, my love.” And then reluctantly he hangs up the phone.

He lands early, before the sun is even up, and makes his way through the nearly empty airport to the car waiting for him. The drive to the hotel is quiet, and Aether is beyond exhausted. He’s been awake for almost twenty-four hours now, but the only thing on his mind is getting to Dew.

Once they make it to the hotel, Aether sprints to the elevators, making his way to the room he’d been told Dew was staying in. When he knocks, Swiss opens the door and they hug immediately. Aether takes comfort in the familiar almost-too-tight squeeze of a hug from Swiss. 

“How is he?” he whispers as soon as they part. Swiss steps to the side and motions Aether towards the bed.

��He insisted on waiting up for you,” Swiss chuckles quietly, “but the doctors gave him lots of painkillers. He tried his best, but he finally knocked out around two hours ago.”

Dew is sleeping quietly in the center of the hotel bed, his brow furrowed. His foot is propped up on several pillows and there are discarded towels and ice packs at the foot of the bed. Aether frowns at how swollen it looks even from where he stands across the room. His heart aches when he thinks about how much pain Dew must have been in when it happened and how uncomfortable he must have been for the entire night, even with the human pain-killers he’d been given.

In his sleep, Dew’s nose twitches, catching the scent of his mate nearby, and he stirs immediately.

“Aether, s’that you?” he calls out, voice raspy and words slurred from a mix of sleep and pain meds. He rubs his bleary eyes as he struggles to prop himself up on his elbows and locate his mate in the dim early-morning light of the hotel room.

Aether crosses the room in two strides to be by his side, kneeling carefully on the bed to kiss the little ghoul on the lips. Dew grabs for him, pulls him in by the fabric of his shirt and holds him close as they kiss.

Swiss takes that as his cue to slip out the door, giving the reunited ghouls their privacy.

They kiss for a moment longer, and when Aether pulls away, Dew reluctantly lets him go with a disappointed whimper.

Aether sits beside him on the bed, mindful of Dew’s injured foot. He cards his fingers through Dew’s sleep-tousled hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” he asks, despite knowing Dew can’t possibly be feeling very good at all.

“Mm, better now that you’re here,” he answers. Aether leans down to plant another kiss to the crown of Dew’s head, and the little ghoul smiles wearily up at him in response. Dew must be exhausted, in so much pain, and nervous about the future of the tour, but Aether can tell that his mood already seems to be lifting from the darkness of the night before.

Aether helps Dew sit up, piling pillows up behind him to prop himself up on. He moves to the end of the bed to carefully look over Dew’s injured foot as he tells him all about everything that happened the night before. How he’d forgotten about that new set of stairs behind Mountain’s drum kit. About the horrified look on the crewmembers’ faces when Dew had fallen completely off of the stage and into the tech areas below the decking. He tells Aether how Phantom and Rain had helped him work his pedals for the rest of the night. And he tells him about the human emergency room he’d been whisked away to as soon as the ritual had ended, and how difficult he’d found it to uphold his glamour between his frazzled nerves and the pain in his foot as the doctors looked him over. 

Right away Aether hits Dew with a pulse of quintessence, just enough to dull whatever pain the human medicines weren’t enough to handle. Between that, and being able to unpack the events of the night before, Dew is already starting to relax under Aether’s touch.

“Swiss threatened to put me in the cone of shame if I didn’t behave for the doctor,” Dew says with a frown on his pretty face. Aether barks out a laugh and Dew swats at him for it, laughing along with him as his mood is lifted by Aether’s calming presence.

Aether finishes his assessment of Dew’s foot, confirming that yes, there are broken bones, and that without quint-accelerated healing, it could take months for it to heal on its own. Unfortunately, Aether tells him that the break is bad enough that even with the help of his quintessence, it could take weeks to fully fix, and Dew would have to continue to wear his medical boot onstage in the meantime.

Dew frowns at the thought, but acquiesces. 

As the morning light grows brighter through the hotel room curtains, exhaustion begins to set in for both ghouls. Dew lets out a giant yawn, settling himself back down into the pile of pillows as his eyelids grow heavy once again between the pain medication and the quintessence. Aether yawns as well, adrenaline finally wearing off. He’d been on high alert since the moment Frater Imperator had knocked on his door the night before and he could tell his body was ready to crash.

Aether stifles another yawn, but plants himself at the foot of the bed again nonetheless.

“Lemme just get one quick round of healing in while I’m still awake,” he insists, despite the need for rest clawing at him.

“Uh uh,” Dew shakes his head with a frown, reaching for Aether with grabby little fingers. “Naptime first. You said yourself before that you’re of no use when you’re this tired.” 

Aether wants to argue, to insist that he’s good for another hour or so just to get a headstart on the healing process, but of course Dew is right. He needs proper rest to be of any use to either of them. So he lets Dew pull him to his side. He carefully helps Dew scoot over on the bed, just enough that Aether can gently lay himself at Dew’s side, ever mindful of Dew’s hurt foot.

As he finally drifts off to sleep, he feels Dew thread their fingers together, hears Dew turn his head towards him and whisper,

“Thank you, for always taking care of me.”

Later that day, after a restful nap and an initial round of healing from Aether, all the arrangements have been made. Aether will travel with the band for the next few weeks, helping to heal Dew in between tour stops. If they’re lucky it should only be a couple of weeks. Frater gives Aether his blessing and Perpetua seems pleased to be able to retain his star lead guitar player. He’d even been willing to give Aether and Dew his (much larger) bunk on his private tour bus while Aether worked on his mate’s health.

A week later, with Dew well on the mend, Aether and Dew lounge in Perpetua’s luxurious bunk after the night’s quintessence session. Dew rests his head on Aether’s chest, ready to fall asleep.

“You know, Aeth,” he says, looking up at his mate with a toothy little grin, “if you would have told me all I’d have to do was break a few bones to get you back out on tour with us, I would have done it a long time ago.” He laughs, pleased with himself.

Aether looks down at his little mate incredulously, and he can’t help but laugh along with him. He leans in for a kiss.

“Try it again and I’ll put you in the cone of shame myself.”

[pokeybananas]

I think also things that are sparkling also can potentially fit in this category. The biggest thing for me is she seems to reserve clothing covered in sparkles for the stage, when she's performing!

Let's look at the 2025 Grammys dress!

This dress is worthy of something she would wear on stage. It's a striking color, It puts her as the center of attention, because we are meant to pay attention to her. She was even yupping it up on the carpet. I don't know if I would call this character an ingenue, or coquette, but I have never seen this woman act this way on a red carpet, especially near the end of the video. Putting her hands flat in front of her and sticking her butt out?!

Mirrorball also features the lyrics "you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinnin' in my highest heels, love. Shinning just for you". Apart from talking about parasocial relationships, and all that jazz, this outfit is the very definition of mirrorball. Her heels are so high, and the stilettos are so thin, walking in the shoes is a performance. Just standing in the shoes is a balancing act ("I'm still on that tightrope",and "try and come for my job"). Trying not to accidentally show your butt or front butt would be a challenge in that dress! (Her thighs though!)

I know Taylor occasionally mentions pageants in her songs. Something I learned about them (thank you "Toddlers and Tiaras") is that you practice your walk, you practice your posing, you practice not falling in those crazy shoes ("all I do is try, try, try")! When Taylor mentions pagents in her work it's usually dorgatory, but I bet it's something Taylor's team hired out a consultant for at one point to teach her how to walk and act in those kinds of shoes (just a note, please don't wear heels that tall for extended periods of time a lot, it can mess with your calf muscles).

Taylor was wearing those heels ALL NIGHT. She did not take those shoes off (I was keeping track) (at least at the televised parts). She is a performer to the very core. And she's very good at it (she's had almost 20 years of practice)

The Mirror Atlas: An Intro to Taylor Swift’s Reflection

I’ve been fascinated by Taylor Swift’s use of mirrors for a long time and the deeper I look, the more prophetic it becomes. Mirrors in her world are never just props. They’re signals. Symbols. Tools of revelation and concealment. A mirror might reflect a self, or fracture it. It might hide a truth in plain sight... or hold someone else entirely.

Now, nearly a decade after Kaylor, I remain ~unashamedly~ convinced that there is still a story being told. Whether it’s past or present, I don’t claim to know. I’m willing to wait, watch, and listen as it all unfolds. One thing is for sure, it's impossible for me to ignore. When I see a compact mirror in Karlie Kloss’s hand at the 2025 Met Gala, I can’t unsee it. The mirror is a portal—and she opened it on camera.

It’s no secret that Reputation was misunderstood when it dropped. What amazes me is that, even now, most of the fandom still doesn’t seem to get it. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe Taylor only ever meant for it to be revealed in hindsight. And maybe that’s why the rerelease is taking so long... When it comes, it’s going to be just as devastating as the first time watching it go over people’s heads again.

As I explore this, it's important to note that I see the mirror theory and eye theory in the same vein. So, if the visible eye on the Reputation album cover really is Karlie’s (and I believe it might be), then what we’re looking at isn’t just a concept album. It’s lore buried so deep, it’s taken years to even begin surfacing. Yeeeears to really start clicking.

This post is the beginning of a larger project, tracing the moments where mirrors appear in Taylor’s visual storytelling. Not as decoration, but as active participants in the mythos. This is about symbols that shimmer with double meaning—about what Taylor tells, and what she leaves unsaid. These are three mirrors that matter.

We begin in the present, with a mirror held by someone who’s never really left the frame.

1. Karlie Kloss, The Compact Mirror, and Met Gala Moments

On May 6th, 2025, Karlie Kloss posted a carousel of “getting ready” images to Instagram following the annual Met Gala. Her look that night? Glamorous, gleaming, and a little too Reputation coded, especially given who's watching. However, the morning after brought the smoking gun.

In one image, Karlie holds a compact mirror. The reflection shows an eye that doesn’t quite look like hers. It appears softer, rounder. There’s a flash of blonde bangs in the frame.

Peculiar, for sure...

A video in the same post, sped up to near-invisibility, shows nothing unusual at first. But slowed down, the reflection seems to catch the shape of someone else entirely. Some say it’s Taylor. Some say it’s just a trick of the light.

But to those of us watching closely, it’s giving the Call It What You Want Miss Americana clip all over again. Five years going strong.

Even the background audio adds weight. The song playing over Karlie’s video is “U Weren’t Here I Really Miss You” by Cult Member and Mia Martina. Released in 2019, the title alone echoes themes of absence and longing. It’s soft and moody and truly feels like a fever dream. If this was a curated moment, the music choice may be the quietest clue of all.

At the same time, Taylor is currently selling a compact mirror on her official site. It’s etched with the lyric, “Are you ever dreaming of me?” from Delicate.

A lyric about vulnerability, desire, and the terrifying risk of being truly seen. The mirror in Karlie’s hand lives in a video viewed thousands of times. Sure, they're not the same object, but they speak the same language. One asks the question. The other hovers near the answer.

Oh, the compact mirror... This wouldn’t be the first time it's made an appearance in their shared visual universe. In 2015’s Bad Blood—the cinematic music video where Karlie played the knife-throwing assassin Knockout—compact mirrors flash a couple of times.

In one shot, a mirror is held by Selena Gomez's character, Arsyn, and reflects Taylor (her character, Catastrophe) mid-battle. Right after, Arsyn blows smoke off the mirror into Catastrophe's face and she falls, shattering the glass wall behind her. In another moment, Gigi Hadid’s character, Slay-Z, holds a compact that functions more like a weapon than a beauty tool. The mirror isn’t for touch-ups. It’s used to see, to target, to surveil.

For my own entertainment, while we're at it and talking about Bad Blood, I wanted to note what I see as Bad Blood callbacks in two of Karlie's Met looks: 2025 and 2016… go figure.

The Met madness is deep within Gaylor lore and it's something that deserves it's own dissertation. For the sake of chronicling, let's turn our eyes to 2019. On the night of the Met Gala themed Camp: Notes on Fashion, Karlie posted a photo holding a compact mirror with the caption: “Looking camp right in the eye.” It was clever and pointed. For most, it was totally misunderstood. For some, it felt like the photo winked.

Camp, in its purest form, is queer—an art of exaggeration, subversion, and coded visibility. The fact that Karlie chose a mirror to make that statement only deepens the meaning. It wasn’t just a nod to the theme. It was a reflection held up to the gaze itself.

When a motif returns like this: same object, same players, years apart... it stops being aesthetic and starts being intentional. The compact mirror isn’t just a prop. It’s a reflection of things unsaid. When Karlie picks it up in 2019 and again in 2025, we’re not just watching a routine beauty shot. We’re seeing something resurface. A deep portal. A time travel. All the love we unraveled and a whisper that says: I'm still here.

2. Reputation – The Disappearing Act

If there’s an era where mirrors stop reflecting and start breaking, it’s Reputation. The visual and lyrical language of this album is all about distortion, erasure, and strategic self-construction. It’s not about being seen—it’s about being watched. And what better symbol to carry that weight than a mirror?

Let’s start with the cover.

EYE THEORY TRUTHERS, RISE.

The Reputation album cover is a grayscale newspaper layout that blankets half of Taylor’s face. Some believe the visible eye belongs to Taylor, and the obscured one? Karlie’s. (It’s me. Hi.) A theory, sure—but the ambiguity holds. The cover itself becomes a mirror. Or maybe a mask. Either way, it’s hiding as much as it reveals.

I need to make my own Eye Theory deep dive (and I will)... but if you're interested now, there are so many lovely Tik Tok creators that are a total wealth of knowledge :)

Digging into the album, the use of mirrors continues. For the sake of this being an intro, let's touch on a relevant music video from this era.

We’ve already seen the compact mirror show up in Bad Blood, where it’s held like a weapon. But in Delicate, the mirror becomes something more slippery—something emotional. In this video, Taylor isn’t fighting anyone. She’s trying to find herself. And the mirrors in the video don’t reflect a consistent identity. They shift. They vanish. They resist.

Let’s break it down.

00:33–00:36 In the opening hallway scene, Taylor walks with her bodyguards through a grand hotel corridor. She catches a glimpse of herself in a passing mirror, and something strange happens: she and the guards stop, walk backward, then charge forward again. It’s as if the sight of her own reflection interrupts the performance. The self in the mirror is the managed one. The one who turns around? That’s the version trying to break free.

00:44–1:02 In the dressing room scene, Taylor stands alone, making wild faces into the mirror. It’s one of the only moments in the Reputation era where she’s truly unguarded, and it’s with her reflection. She isn’t performing for the world. She’s performing for herself. It’s silly, strange, and a little unhinged. It’s honest.

1:03–1:12 But then, the spell breaks. Three women enter the room. Taylor vanishes. And so does her reflection. The moment she’s no longer alone, the mirror erases her. That is not subtle. That is design.

2:34–2:45 Later, in the elevator scene, a woman stands beside Taylor, smiling, applying lipstick, completely unaware of her presence. Taylor is still invisible. She exists outside the reflection, outside the frame, outside the narrative.

To me, Delicate is one of the most emotionally rich videos in Taylor’s entire visual canon. It’s a meditation on freedom—the kind that only comes when no one is watching. The moves she makes in the video are strange, almost feral. And I think that’s the point. She’s showing us how she behaves when the mirror no longer holds her. When she’s unseen and alive.

There are more mirror moments in Reputation that we’ll get to in the Mirror Atlas, but Delicate stands alone in its depth. It isn’t just a pop video. It’s a reflection of what happens when the reflection disappears.

3. mirrorball – Shimmer, Performance, and Emotional Reflection

If Reputation was about erasure, mirrorball is what’s left behind in the spotlight. It’s one of Taylor’s most quietly devastating songs—soft in delivery, but sharp in what it reveals. This time, she isn’t looking into a mirror or breaking one. She’s become the mirror itself.

In the Long Pond Studio Sessions, Taylor describes mirrorball as a song about performing through pain, about the exhausting need to be “everything for everybody.” She compares herself to a disco ball—beautiful because it’s broken, casting fractured reflections for others to enjoy. “If you break it, it’s just made of a million pieces of broken glass.” That’s the metaphor. And it’s not just poetic—it’s literal.

She didn’t perform mirrorball in a mirrored outfit on the Eras Tour, but that detail only makes her earlier choices more significant. In 2018, at the American Music Awards, Taylor stepped out in a full mirrorball dress. A mosaic of tiny mirrored tiles wrapped around her body. She wore it to accept awards for Reputation, the album that she’s still letting us unravel. The look was bold, but intentional. She showed up shining—reflective, beautiful, unreadable.

In 2023, at The 1975’s concert in London, Taylor made a surprise appearance wearing another mirrored mini-dress. It wasn’t just a callback. It was a performance of an identity. She was stepping into a space filled with speculation, projection, and fantasy—and she wore exactly what the crowd would expect. Not because it was her. Because it was what they wanted her to be.

And that’s what makes mirrorball so devastating. The mirror isn’t something she holds. It’s something she becomes. In the crowd’s gaze, in the fandom’s theories, in the industry’s demands—she reflects, refracts, and never quite settles into her own outline. Even her absence is curated. At the 2025 iHeartRadio Awards, Taylor didn’t attend, but sent a performance clip of mirrorball from opening weekend of Eras. She didn’t appear. The mirror did.

Some may believe otherwise, but to me, this isn’t a song about love. It’s about exposure. About what it costs to be adored, interpreted, and seen only in fragments. mirrorball doesn’t reveal who Taylor is. It reflects who we ask her to be.

And maybe that’s the point. I mean, the last thing we’ve heard from her in months was a clip of mirrorball standing in for her at the 2025 iHeartRadio Awards. Now, there's many buzzing fan theories of all sorts stirring around the 2025 AMAs. If she were to break her silence there, it'd be on the same stage where she first wore that Balmain beauty in 2018. it’s hard not to feel like the loop is closing. The timing is too sharp to ignore.

The End of the Intro, The Beginning of an Atlas

So, given this brain dump, I hope it’s clear that my interest lies in the mirror—not just as a visual, but as a motif woven through Taylor’s body of work. What I've started here is just the beginning, but even with only three moments, the pattern starts speaking for itself.

It’s enough to say with confidence: the mirror isn’t just a flourish. It’s a signal. A portal. A language. And once you see it, it’s everywhere.

This post isn’t a thesis. It’s a foundation. A first pass at something deeper, something still unfolding. The Mirror Atlas will grow—moment by moment, frame by frame—as we trace this reflection through Taylor’s universe.

If you’ve noticed a mirror—literal or symbolic, lyric or live—share it. The comments are open. The story is still being written.

And if you ask me, this mirror trail feels less like theory, and more like an invisible string tying Taylor to… her.

[crustyfloor]

[thelibrarian1895]

Bat Space Adventures

Just a quick thing, was looking back at another post and made a decision.

Anytime any of the various Wayne children and Wayne adjacent children are in space and involved in space shenanigans, there is always the possibility that they might lose their mask. They might, in fact, for some reason be forced to give a name for themselves other than their chosen vigilante moniker.

All of them, without coordinating it at all, give the same name.

Bruce Wayne

Space criminals are all terrified of the shapeshifting earth hero Bruce Wayne who takes many similar but unique forms as they bring fear and justice to the galaxy.

And on at least one occasion some really dumb space warlord has come to earth to capture Bruce Wayne in order to bring an end to the symbol of galactic justice and assert their own dominance over the galaxy.

In that particular occasion, whatever tech the war lord was using to translate their demands didn't work quite the way they thought and the planet earth was under the impression that the war lord came to Earth to demand Bruce Wayne as their bride rather than their prisoner. (Tim, Luke Fox, and Barbara did some very fancy, very fast maneuvering to sabotage the warlord's translation tech. The last thing they wanted was B finding out about their respective space shenanigans)

Dick had to don the cowl during that incident since Brucie Wayne could hardly fight back against a space war lord. Lois argued for and successfully got Jimmy a raise when the photographer managed to get a picture of Superman carrying Bruce Wayne back to earth and Wonder Woman in the background holding Batman. Superman x Bruce Wayne and WonderBat shippers around the world went nuts. Lois could not stop laughing. Clark is resigned at this point. Diana is amused.

The whole incident does not stop any of the Gotham vigilantes who are not Batman from using the alias Bruce Wayne while in space.

[kitsquared]

I love that in alien stage Sua and Till have the least interaction/ awkward relationship in their friend group

But in off the record theyre both senior actors while the rest are juniors and thus you can make them have the most amicable if not lowkey bestie relationship among the actors

[ozcarma]

In light of the TGWDLM remount I’m tempted to make a compilation of my favorite parts of various student and community theater productions that have been uploaded onto YouTube…

[spacedustmantis]

starkid is for the aromantics i know this to be true in my heart

[blondieart]

Since @voiddrawss asked what my fav "Sector VII" scene is I finally found the time to doodle it. 'v'b So here it is.

Rufus keeps trying his luck with Yazoo but they are not having any of it. Usually Yaz just lets him talk (they're internally going: "bla bla bla, I'm so bored...") and ignore whatever nonsense is thrown at him. But eventually Rufus casually mentions how he would never want a family cuz he hates the commitment; even sees it as a waste. Yazoo who has always been the one to look after his two siblings and treasuring his family life with them and their adoptive mom Jenova sees this as such an insult sooooo... get juice'd idiot. The whole Rufus and Yazoo stuff is inspired by the song "People I don't like". I listen to it a lot, mainly while walking cuz it has a nice beat to it. And my brain just takes the wheel and imagines these two being stuck with each other at every stupid party they go to.

[tv1xx]

I will continue to spread Cecil and Debbie propaganda, he would treat her right. (Sorry Nolan)

[lulling-riot]

ALIEN STAGE SEASON 40 CONTESTANT: INNAMORATI

[UPDATED PROFILE]

NOTES

Belonging to Guardian Dottore, INNAMORATI is a contestant of the 40TH season of ALIEN STAGE. He used to be a much more excitable person, friendly with most, but with the sudden death of student, MACBETH, he seemed to lose quite a bit of his charm. If anything, he began to isolate himself from others, with the exception of student TOKI, and on the worst cases, got aggressive with student YAEL.

On another note, we’ve tried to get in contact with his guardian, however he seems to be very against hearing or participating in anything related to INNAMORATI, even going so far as to say, “If it dies, then good. Leave me alone about that boy.” It seems that even if INNAMORATI wins ALIEN STAGE, it won’t be celebrated.

CURRENT STATS: [ALIVE]

- ROUND SIX: YAEL VS INNAMORATI

- ROUND TWENTY-THREE: CLEMENTINE VS INNAMORATI

RELATIONSHIPS

- TOKI [ @verdantlights ]

Someone who he is in love with, having been in a relationship with him for a long time, having spent more time together rather than not. Despite his love for him, he is aware of his involvement of MACBETH’s death, as well as his more sinister qualities TOKI tries to hide from him. While he wishes he can just love him, he knows he must do something to keep TOKI from getting away with it.

- YAEL [ @lookatmysillies ]

A close friend of MACBETH turned enemy of INNAMORATI. At first the dislike came from a misunderstanding of YAEL, it shifted to a hatred and a belief YAEL had some influence over MACBETH’s death, as well as the realization that MACBETH went to YAEL instead of him. A major part of his hatred for YAEL is misdirected self loathing and a way to deny TOKI’s involvement with it. Their relationship ended with no closure for INNAMORATI in ROUND 6, with INNAMORATI win.

- MACBETH

One of INNAMORATI’s closest and first friends in ANAKT GARDEN. INNAMORATI grew close to him despite MACBETH’s resistance to it, mostly out a curiosity for who they are, and a protectiveness over him since he seemed to be rather introverted. However as INNAMORATI began to become closer with others, especially TOKI, and MACBETH began to become more focused on his goals, as well as YAEL, the two had grown apart, before MACBETH’s eventual death.

[kodokberjamur]

What I really love about TreyJade is the fact that you can enjoy shipping them for entirely different reasons. Some TreyJade enjoyers like them for their matching freakiness. Some enjoy shipping them because their banter can be fun and enjoyable. Others ship them because they look good together. Or you can ship them because they're both mature and observant. Some enjoy shipping them because of their compatible interests. They're also enjoyable because they're like puzzle pieces from different puzzle sets that fit each other anyway. Others may enjoy shipping them for their intricate relationship and deeper connection. They can be freaky, they can be domestic, they can be cute and playful, they can have immense tension, they can understand each other on a deeper level.... A lot of writers and fanartists potray them differently, and I love every single possible dynamic of their relationship.

As for me? Well, I love them for all of the reasons mentioned above KSHFKSHDK

[visions--of--collisions]

miles in the pit getting buffeted around like a sweet wrapper bc he doesn't know what tf he's doing and doesn't want to hurt someone or give himself away as enhanced .... hobie having to wade in there to help him out or watch it happening from the stage without losing his shit .....

[teagrammy]

I love how Paris toys with Helen's sense of her own destiny and her sense of humanity as a demigod, especially in relation to her own feelings toward Paris. She implies that she's seen visions/had premonitions about Paris since childhood

In "Perfect Stranger" there's a sense that Aphrodite has guided her to the beach to engineer this meeting with Paris. However, in a less supernatural sense it could indicate that since she's a child she's had an underlying desire for someone who encourages her to be emotive and give into the desires of the heart.

She establishes in both "Long Time Coming" and "Thoughts of Love" that she's lived as a figurehead for her whole life, and in "Chorale" the chorus outright states that she is fashioned in the image of the gods. She feels like she cannot be human, and in a way she's correct because even at the point Paris meets her she's already mythologized. Paris on the other hand is human to a degree that she finds embarrassing, but also intriguing and endearing. It helps that when they meet, Paris doesn't know her identity as the Queen of Sparta, but just sees this beautiful woman Aphrodite has promised to him. He worships her, but in a way that seeks to prioritize Helen's comfort and feelings and make her feel loved. It makes her uncomfortable because she's been worshipped in a way previously that distances her from her humanity. Menelaus outright states this in "Thief in the Night."

Menelaus clearly adores Helen, but in a way that makes Helen feel alienated. She's admired but in a way that makes her more symbol than human. Yet at the same time, Helen has this deep sense of dread that indulging in this human part of her will bring ruin for everyone involved. If she's seen visions, she understands the fate of her relationship with Paris is not going to end happily. But what Paris ultimately argues, and she ultimately accepts is that these sacrifices are needed for her to actually progress and have some sort of fulfilment as a human. In a twisted way, even though Paris dies, the whole affair shifts Menelaus' perspective of Helen and makes him more attentive to her human needs afterward.

Anyway, it's just wild an 80s rock opera gave Helen better characterization and more depth than she's gotten from supposed feminist retellings in the past ten years, but that's neither here nor there.

[throughpatchesofviolet]

I do think part of why I'm not too worried about losing my focus on Heathcliff is because, somehow, he is the only character who I feel would understand and respect when I go into a romance or affection repulsed/apathetic mood--mainly because it's very easy to imagine Sherry is like that a lot.

Yes, it was initially confusing for him, but he knows her repulsion/apathy isn't because she doesn't love him. Rather, it's because her comforts have shifted, for the moment.