#swift made herself famous

[d1sheclectic]

tumblr bitches try to be normal about taylor swift challenge (IMPOSSIBLE!!!!)

“She’s not a tortured poet, she’s a billionaire!🤓☝️”

i did not expect people on TUMBLR of all places to make shitty, insensitive, misinformed comments about mental health and the ways it can devastate ANYONES life.

Not liking her music is one thing but y’all will find ANY EXCUSE to justify your biases concerning talented women in the music industry. same mfs who preach about feminism and how taylor swift is somehow its antithesis will endorse hole as a great feminist band in the same breath.

you aren’t bettering the lives of minorities by denouncing taylor swift’s music. you’re not partaking in a revolution. you just come across extremely bitter.

you guys aren’t activists. revelling in your own hypocrisy isn’t cute.

[soular-sisters]

The most common celebrity/fame Astrology placements ✨🤩📸

The glitz, the glamour, the endless number of fans that seem to be mesmerized by them… have you ever notice how a lot of famous individuals have a certain grab and magnetism about them? Well, they might have more in common astrologically than you thought. Without further ado, here are some of the most common traits you will find in famous individual’s natal charts:

1. Pronounced Leo and Cancer placements in personal planets, especially sun, moon, and ascendant.

In the world of Hollywood, Leo energy is prevalent with countless Leo suns in the industry including: Demi Lovato, Steve Carell, Robert De Niro, Kylie Jenner, Daniel Radcliffe, and Madonna just to name a few. Cancer energy also runs strongly, with cancer sun celebrities also finding major success such as:

*Lana Del Rey (a Cancer sun with a Leo Moon, Scorpio Ascendant, Leo midheaven and Venus conjunct her north node)

*Ringo Starr (another cancer with a Leo moon)

*Margot Robbie (a cancer sun with a Taurus Midheaven & Aquarius north node)

Cancer & Leo personal planets can be found in a wide range of celebrities including:

*Dua Lipa (a Leo sun/Cancer Moon)

*Taylor Swift (a Sagittarius sun/Cancer moon)

*Micheal B. Jordan (an Aquarius sun/Cancer Moon)

*Drake (a Scorpio sun/cancer moon/Leo ascendant)

*Julia Roberts (Scorpio Sun/Leo Moon)

*Megan Fox (Taurus Sun/Leo Moon)

*Paul McCartney (Gemini Sun/Leo Moon)

*Bruno Mars (a Libra sun/Leo moon)

*Blake Lively (a Virgo sun/Leo ascendant, with plenty of positive sun aspects including sun conjunct her natal Mars, venus, and Mercury, & also sun trine her Jupiter)

There are many more celebrities who have these similar placements.

2. Prominent north node aspects or favorable house placement.

The North Node shows our Karmic Destiny. Certain placements show where an individual might see fame more than others, including the 1st, 5th, 10th, and 11th houses. Some celebrities that have these placements include:

1st house of identity:

*Martin Luther King Jr. (North Node in Taurus: who showed fearlessness in the face of racism to unite the people)

*Amy Winehouse (North Node in Gemini: who’s songs about her life have remained popular long after her untimely death)

*Megan The Dutchess of Sussex (Leo sun/Cancer Ascendant with North Node in Leo: who is one of the most famous women in the world now whether you like her or not)

*James Dean (North Node in Aries: who’s image as a bad boy heartthrob has been solidified in history long after his untimely death)

5th house of creativity, children, and happiness:

*Angelina Jolie (who is also cancer Venus and Ascendant at 28°, has her North Node in Sagittarius. She is a talented actress that has also traveled the world and made it her mission to help and adopt children)

*Selena Gomez (who is also Leo Ascendant, with moon & part of fortune conjunct her Taurus midheaven, has her North Node in Capricorn, and is also a talented actress, who due to her illness cannot have children. Unfortunately, the planet of Saturn, Capricorns ruler, may deny children entirely, or only bring very few)

*Christiano Ronaldo (who is also Leo moon, has his North Node in Taurus, he has had a stable career playing soccer, known as a heartthrob with the Venus energy, and also the father to five children)

10th house of public image:

*Donald Trump (who is also Leo ascendant & Taurus Midheaven, with sun & Uranus conjunct his North Node in Gemini, he has captivated audiences on a global scale with his words and with Sun and Uranus being opposite planets conjunct his north node, he is extremely polarizing with his supporters absolutely loving him and his opposers absolutely hating him)

*Beyoncé (who is Mars conjunct her Leo North Node in the 10th house. Beyoncé is also known on a global scale and the amount of time and energy she puts into her craft is very evident, she also carries herself with a mars-esque energy in her public persona.)

*Britney Spears (with her North Node in Cancer. While she is extremely talented, her career has had a lot of exploitation of her and her assets and made her a victim in the public eye)

11th house of social circles aspirations and collaboration:

*Lady Gaga (who has her North Node in Taurus, which rules the voice, has famously collaborated on singing projects with other creatives including Tony Bennett, and Bradley Cooper)

*Robert Downey Jr. (who has his North Node in Gemini has famously gotten himself into heaps of mischeif when he was younger turned his life around when he associated himself with Marvel and propelled himself further into stardom, eventually getting his Oscar winning role in Oppenheimer)

*Ariana Grande (who has her North node in Sagittarius. In Jennette McCurdy’s book “I’m Glad My Mom Died” she recalled being jealous of how lucky Ariana was for all the opportunities that were being granted to her though her association to higher ups at Nickelodeon)

3. 1st house planets, 5th house planets, 10th house planets, and 11th house planets (especially Sun, Jupiter, Neptune, and Venus)

House placements are always important to check when looking at a natal chart and this area is no different. We see many of the same placements among famous individuals such as:

*Blake Lively (who has a first house stellium consisting of her sun, mercury and Venus, and a fifth house stellium with Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune)

*Paul Rudd (who has a fifth house stellium with Neptune, moon and mars, and a 10th house stellium with his Mercury, sun, Venus, and Saturn)

*Vanessa Hudgens (who is also Leo ASC & Taurus MC also has a fifth house stellium with her sun, Uranus, Neptune, Saturn, and Mercury)

*Kim Kardashian (sun and mercury fall into her 11th house and she has a 10th house stellium consisting of Jupiter, Pluto, and Saturn. She also has Neptune in her first house which is another popular fame placement that is also seen in Marilyn Monroe) A stellium is not needed in these houses either.

*Rihanna (her sun & mercury is in the 11th house with her Jupiter in the first house and though her moon & Venus fall in the 12th house, they do conjunct her ascendant)

4. Having a fixed midheaven: Scorpio, Taurus, Aquarius, Leo

The midheaven shows where the most ideal career placement for an individual. Usually fame can been seen amongst fixed midheaven placements. Some examples include: Taurus MC:

*Margot Robbie

*Timothée Chalamet

*Emma Stone

*Vanessa Hudgens

*Miranda Kerr

*Nick Jonas

*Justin Timberlake

Leo MC:

*Harry Styles

*Daniel Craig

*James Gandolfini

*Chevy Chase

*Robin Williams

*Nicole Kidman

*Jim Carrey

*Aretha Franklin

Scorpio MC:

*Hilary Duff

*Zendaya

*Jane Fonda

*Johnny Knoxville

*Barack Obama

*Willem Defoe

*Carrie Fisher

Aquarius MC:

*Miley Cyrus

*Pamela Anderson

*Will Smith

*Drew Barrymore

*Gordon Ramsay

*Tim Burton

*John Krasinski

5. Having personal planets at 5°, 17°, or 29° as they are degrees ruled by Leo.

In degree theory, these degrees are ruled by Leo and can also be seen as a common placement among many different famous individuals including:

*J.P. Morgan (successful banking mogul, who actually used astrology in his personal life, had his Taurus mercury at 29° and he once famously said, “Millionaires don’t use astrology, billionaires do.”)

*Post Malone (also has his Gemini Venus at 29°, and he has made his career diverse in various genres and has been extremely loved wherever he goes)

*Morgan Wallen (has his Aquarius moon at 29°, and his 5° Libra Jupiter conjunct his Midheaven)

*Steven Tyler (who has his Aries Sun at 5°. He has amassed many fans among his decades long career)

*Jim Carrey (who has both his Gemini moon at 17° and his Capricorn mars at 17°, once wrote himself a check for a million dollars before he became famous to manifest his future as a successful actor and around a year later found himself with major roles)

*Loretta Lynn (the iconic “Coal Miners Daughter” singer has her Aries Mercury at 17°, and her songs have stood the test of time)

6. Having personal planets at 28° ruled by cancer. Makes an individual a “household name”

Cancer rules the home, so it goes hand in hand with creating a household name among 28° holders. A few examples include:

*A$AP Rocky (who has his Leo Venus at 28° is famously known for his music and style)

*Miley Cyrus (who is 28° Taurus ascendant is definitely a household name and made her way into homes being a child actress and singer)

*Rihanna (has her Sagittarius mars in 28° as well, and she has had a fruitful career full of energy that she has put forward to become a self-made billionaire before 40)

7. Strong 11th house energy

The 11th house in astrology is the realm of Aquarius. Think of these individuals being innovators, and different. 11th house energy is commonly seen in famous individuals including:

*Johnny Depp (world famous actor has his Gemini sun in 11)

*Beyoncé (billionaire and one of the biggest singers in the world also has her sun in the 11th)

*Angelina Jolie (renowned actress and philanthropist has her Gemini sun and Mercury in the 11th house)

*Rihanna (another one of the biggest singers in the world has her Pisces sun and Aquarius Mercury in the 11th house)

*Lady Gaga (has her Aries sun, Aries venus, and Taurus north node in the 11th house)

*Kim Kardashian (A-list reality television star, model and business woman, has her Libra sun, and Scorpio mercury in her 11th house)

*Zayn Malik (another one of the biggest boy band & solo singers in the world has his Capricorn sun, nept, Uranus, and Mercury in the 11th house)

8. Prominent Jupiter Aspects

Jupiter the planet of luck, optimism and abundance having prominent energy in the natal chart can have a “lucky” influence on a famous individual, a few examples include:

*Elizabeth Taylor (world famous actress has natal, Jupiter trine ascendant, Jupiter trine Uranus, Venus trine Jupiter)

*Quentin Tarantino (talented movie director has natal Sun conjunct Jupiter, Mercury conjunct Jupiter, and Jupiter trine North node)

*Zendaya. (world famous actress, singer, and model has natal sun trine Jupiter, moon trine Jupiter)

*Samuel L. Jackson (another one of the most famous actors in the world has natal sun conjunct Jupiter, moon trine Jupiter, Jupiter trine Saturn, and Mercury conjunct Jupiter)

9. Aspects made to the ascendant and/or midheaven.

Our ascendant (how we portray ourselves) and our midheavens (career placement) having plentiful aspects can be seen in a wide range of well known celebrities in both old Hollywood and in recent time. Here are a few examples:

*Jayne Mansfield (one of the biggest sex symbols of her era before her untimely death had, North node trine ascendant, Neptune sextile ascendant, mars sextile ascendant, ascendant trine Midheaven)

*John Wayne (world renowned western actor, was a natal holder of, Mercury conjunct ascendant, sun conjunct ascendant, ascendant trine midheaven, sun trine midheaven, Mercury trine midheaven)

*Judy Garland (who played Dorothy in Wizard of Oz, had ascendant trine midheaven, moon sextile midheaven, mercury conjunct ascendant, Mercury trine midheaven)

10. Positive mars & Jupiter aspects

Mars the planet of action in a harmonious aspect with Jupiter the planet of luck, abundance and optimism can bring lucky opportunities with action and can be seen in famous individuals such as:

mars conjunct Jupiter:

*Ariel Winter

*Channing Tatum

*Lily Collins

*Ludacris

mars trine Jupiter:

*MGK

*Rachel McAdams

*Heath Ledger

*Joaquin Phoenix

mars sextile Jupiter:

*Nicki Minaj

*Emma Stone

*Bella Thorne

*Reese Witherspoon

11. Natal Midheaven conjunct north node.

Our career placement, the Midheaven, in conjunction with our North node, karmic destiny can be seen in quite a few famous individuals including:

*Jared Leto (We the Kings singer and actor has his conjunction in Aquarius)

*Jaden Smith (actor, rapper, and nepo baby has his conjunction in Virgo) *Donald Glover/Childish Gambino (actor, writer, rapper and producer has his conjunction in Gemini)

*Meryl Streep (world famous actress has her conjunction in Aries)

*Mike Tyson (world famous boxer has his conjunction in Taurus)

12. Gemini energy is very common amongst rappers.

Gemini energy is extremely prominent amongst rappers, for the sake of keeping this example shorter I will just be using sun sign Gemini’s. The list of sun sign Geminis:

*Kendrick Lamar

*Sage the Gemini

*Fetty Wap

*Ice Cube

*Kanye West

*Tupac Shakur

*Notorious B.I.G.

*Trippie Redd

*Kodak Black

*Takeoff

*G-Eazy

*Don Toliver

*Azaelia Banks

*Macklemore

*Swae Lee

13. A 10th & 11th house conjunction. If two planets are conjunct but fall into the 10th house of public image and the 11th house of friends/friend groups.

Both of these houses are major players when it comes to our public life. A few examples of these placements are:

*Kim Kardashian (sun in 11 is conjunct her Pluto in 10th)

*Eminem (sun in 11 is conjunct his 10th house Uranus)

*Nicki Minaj (her 10th house sun conjunct her 11th house Venus)

*Marilyn Monroe (11th house sun conjunct her 10th house Mercury)

14. Having prominent Mercury aspects.

Mercury is the planet of communication and self expression. Having mercury aspects are common amongst famous individuals as well including:

*Stephen King (who has had an extremely long career with countless dark books written and movies made, has natal Mercury sextile Pluto & Mercury conjunct Neptune, and Mercury sextile Saturn)

*Drake (has natal Mercury conjunct Venus, common amongst musicians and actors)

*Beyoncé (has her natal Mercury sextile North Node, Mercury sextile mars, and Mercury conjunct Saturn, and her songs have been listened to around the world countless times)

*Justin Bieber (who unfortunately has had a lot of hardships explaining himself and expressing his truths has Mercury square North Node, Mercury square ascendant, and Mercury square Pluto)

*Liam Neeson (the world famous actor has his natal sun conjunct Mercury, Mercury conjunct Venus and moon opposite Mercury)

Research Disclaimer:

All research was conducted by Arielle in April & May 2024. This is all information found by her own research. There are definitely more celebrities that fall under these categories not listed. There is more room to further research this topic.

-AH

IG: @starlit.artistry

[b14augrana]

The Death Of You

The pursuit to being the greatest of all time comes above everything, including your health

Barça Femení x reader

masterlist

Warnings: slight overshadowing of injury

A/N: edited this author’s note way too many times buttttttt im not making a pt 2 of this because its just a silly little blurb that’s been rotting in my drafts and thats i wanna say okay thanks enjooooyyyyy

“When you think of passion, you think of someone that does anything for their club, and that’s (Y/N). The blaugrana is everything to her, and it is a part of her. She puts the badge before herself, and all she emits, all they admire of her, everything she represents, is Barça.

(Y/N) is Barça, Barça is (Y/N)” — Mapi León.

For Barça, you would give your life. You have put your body on the line and taken the hits until your skin turns the colours of the jersey you truly believe you’ll die in.

It’s what your mother says will eventually kill you. Going down with the jersey, for the jersey, your love for the greatest club in the world coming before all. It’s proof, almost, that Barcelona is so great, it’s worth dying for.

But, the funny thing is, you hadn’t loved living in Barcelona growing up. In fact, you hated everything about it. It felt like an asylum or some sort of confinement where the only things left to stare at are the four walls you’re enclosed by, except, those four walls were littered with posters of men you constantly watched play at the stadium of your dreams, and the only thing that made staring at those four walls so much of a punishment is the fact you were a girl and there was no such thing as a woman footballer.

You had shitty friends to remind you of that every single time they caught you stopping in the street (though you don’t even stop, your foot just drags along the ground a bit slower than usual) just to take a closer look at a mural of some Barça legend.

You hated living in Barcelona because you had nobody on your side that believed there was a place for you or any other woman behind the huge, towering walls of Camp Nou.

Barcelona went from being an asylum to a garden that was nurtured with every match played and goal scored, a title or medal sprouting from the buds of every stem and bush.

You would die for Barcelona. Hell was worth living through, for Barcelona, just to feel whatever emotion devoured you when you step out to a full stadium in the famous blue and garnet.

You want to be the best. That comes above everything — there is no point in devoting your life to something if you’re not going to be the best at it, and you had given more than what was required for Barça.

What you also want is to create a legacy not only for yourself, but the club as well, one title at a time. A legacy associated with winning, and being the greatest of all time. The last thing you need to implement this reputation? The Champions League.

You take in the stadium, the raindrop-covered grass, the noise. That headache inducing noise, caused by the record attendance in the stadium. The headache inducing noise that, when you focus on it, begins to become coherent and recognisable as the Barcelona anthem. With every step closer to the pitch, you find it harder to pay attention to anything around you, and the anxiety in your stomach is more apparent than ever before.

You kill the period of time between exiting the tunnel and finding your place on the field by warming up (or in other words, doing whatever you can to shake the nerves). You step out onto the pitch and feel the pinch of the cold wind which, for some reason, elicits an epiphany; the only thing separating you and that trophy is these 90 minutes.

Those 90 minutes drag on. Pass after pass, unsuccessful dribble after unsuccessful dribble, you’re not getting any closer to the goal but you can’t feel disheartened or unmotivated because all you have is 90 minutes. Everything can change in 90 minutes.

Everything does change. You don’t know how it happened, or who passed you the ball, or whether you even called for it, but you had it and you were moving quickly with it. Managing to glide past Renard, leaving her behind you to grapple at your jersey hopelessly, you find yourself up against Endler on your own.

Although there are 20 other players on the pitch, discarded behind you, it feels like it’s just you and Endler in an empty stadium. The goal looks bigger than it should be as your foot swings down onto the ball, and the raucous noise of the stadium can only intensify when the ball just misses the tip of Endler’s glove and meets the back of the net.

It is hard to ignore the unfamiliar discomfort in your knee, but you do it anyways. You run off to celebrate and don’t pay it another thought. You don’t mention it to anyone amidst the celebrations because how could you possibly ruin this moment, and it’s basically gone by the time you return to the midfield.

For a moment, there's hope. Your goal sparks new light into the eyes of your teammates. One golden boot shines brighter than a golden glove and there's a connection between your foot and the ball that just makes sense, and it's put away in the back of the net.

But when the ball starts rolling again and it meets the feet of Van de Donk, you realise 1 goal isn't enough.

No, it's like hanging off the edge of a cliff, fingers clawing for whatever jagged edge of a rock they can reach, clinging onto the little thing you have keeping you up. But with every minute, every intercepted pass, missed or deflected shots, the cliffside is crumbling.

Lyon is an exceptional team. That's why they manage to put one past Sandra, and you're back to square one. Your mind, drunk on pride, pushes you to do more, to give more. Your body feels like it can't possibly give anything more, yet you still run up and down the pitch without slowing down once and you throw yourself at the ball every time you find the opportunity.

It’s what your mother says will eventually kill you.

So it does, internally. When the final whistle pierces your ears and the minority of Lyon fans in the crowd burst into cheers, it kills you, because you would die for this club and it hurts to come so close but fall short.

The winning legacy you were so close to completing, was now tainted by your failure to actually win.

Your knee also hurts. A lot.

You lie down on the pitch, its soggy and uneven surface being the only comfort you have in this place where everywhere you look, there are reminders that you’re not good enough. The more you think about all the sacrifices and things you put on the line for this title, you wonder, ‘When’s it gonna be my turn?’

Disappointed fans filing out of the exits, your teammates surrounding you trying to hold in their tears, the dancing and celebrating from Lyon.

The sound of sniffles can be heard from beside you, and you roll over to see Mapi, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks dusted with patches of red.

As you line up to receive your medal, you don’t even want to wear it. Silver will never be better than gold, there’s nothing good about being second to best, being outperformed is nothing to be proud of. But you still keep the medal on.

You hang your head and look away from the winner’s stage, because your heart is too sore to take in the fact that would’ve, could’ve, should’ve been you.

‘When’s it gonna be my turn?’

[zot3-flopped]

Sylvia Plath did not stick her head in an oven for this! When Taylor Swift took the Grammys stage last month to claim her award for Best Pop Vocal Album for Midnights, she saw that spotlight as an opportunity to announce her 11th studio album: The Tortured Poets Department. The follow-up cut to audience members—Swift’s music industry peers, mind you—told us all that we would ever need to know, and the collective disinterest across the crowd echoed through our TVs.

Folks from all walks of life took to social media to express a multitude of reactions. Swifties clamored to their beloved monarch’s forthcoming era, while others lambasted the terminally cringe title and artwork and ridiculed Swift for making a night recognizing musical achievements across an entire industry about herself—knowing perfectly well that it would send her fanbase into a surge that would, no doubt, overpower the excitement around the ceremony itself.

Quite a few people questioned whether or not that moment suggested that a critical—definitely not commercial—tide would turn against the world’s most-famous pop star. And, perhaps it has—but, to most, it will look like nothing more than a single ripple in Swift’s ocean of successes.

Swift remained relatively hush-hush about The Tortured Poets Department up until its release, leaving her fans, admirers and haters alike with nothing but an album title to ponder about. And it’s a bad title.

If you have never been in Swift’s corner, her taking the route of labeling her next “era” as “tortured” was likely catnip for your disinterest. If you are a fan—not necessarily a Swiftie, but even just a casual lover of her best and brightest work—you might be beside yourself about the first Swift album title longer than one word in 14 years.

In terms of popularity—certainly not always in terms of quality—no musician has been bigger this century than Swift, which makes it impossible to really buy into the “torture” of it all.

This is not to say that Swift being the most famous person in the world makes her immune to having multi-dimensional feelings of heartbreak, mental illness or what-have-you.

But, she has made the choice—as a 34-year-old adult—to take those complex, universal familiars and monetize them into a wardrobe she can wear for whatever portion of her Eras Tour setlist she opts to dedicate to the material.

Torture is fashion to Taylor Swift, and she wears her milieu dully. This album will surely get comparisons to Rupi Kaur’s poetry, either for its simplicity, empty language, commodification or all of the above.

And, sure, there are parallels there, especially in how The Tortured Poets Department, too, is going to set the art of poetry back another decade—as Swift’s naive call-to-arms of her own milky-white sorrow rings in like some quintessential “I am going to take pictures of a typewriter on my desk and have a Pinterest mood-board of Courier New font” iPhone fodder. 2013 called and it wants it capricious, suburban girl-who-is-taking-a-gap-year wig back!

Soaking our book reports in coffee or having our moms burn the edges with a kitchen lighter cannot come back into fashion; the cyclical notions of culture cannot make the space for such retreads.

There is nothing poetic about a billionaire—who, mind you, threatens legal action against a Twitter account for tracking her destructive private jet paths—telling stadiums of thousands of people every night that she sees and adores them.

Tavi Gevinson says it well in her Fan Fiction zine: “When 80,000 people are also crying, you become less special, too.” If Swift can return to one of her dozen beach houses across the world, kick up her feet and say “I’m a poet of struggle,” then who is to say that millions—maybe billions—of people with access to a notes app and a social media account won’t dream that dream, too?

Maybe that looks like a net-positive, but it’s inherently damning and destructive to take an art form that has long stood on the shoulders of resistance, of love and of opposition to power, systematic injustice and climate warfare and boil it down to the new defining era of your own 10-digit revenue empire. “My culture is not your costume,” yada, etc.

The Tortured Poets Department does begin with a shred of hope that, just maybe, Swift knows what she’s talking about—as she sneaks in a cheeky “all of this to say,” textbook transitional phrasing for poets, on opening track “Fortnight.”

But “Fortnight” unmasks itself quickly as a heady vat of pop nothingness, though it isn’t all Swift’s fault. “I was a functioning alcoholic, ‘til nobody noticed my new aesthetic,” she muses, attempting to bridge the gap between a behind-the-scenes life and on-stage performance—only for it to occur while propped up against the most dog-water, uninspired synth arrangement you could possibly imagine.

Between producer Jack Antonoff’s atrocious backing instrumental and the Y2K-era, teen dramedy echo chamber of a vocal harmony provided by out-of-place guest performer Post Malone, “Fortnight” chokes on the vomit of its own opaqueness.

“I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary,” Swift muses, and it sounds like satire. This is your songwriter of the century? Open the schools.

The Tortured Poets Department title-track features some of Swift’s worst lyricism to-date, including the irredeemable, relentlessly cringe “You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate, we declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist / I scratch your head, you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever” lines glazed atop some synthesizers and drums that just ring in as hollow, unfascinating costuming.

Aside from the Puth nod, which I can only discern as a joke (given the fact that he is one of the 150-most streamed artists in the world and is one of the blandest pop practitioners alive—I don’t care if he can figure out the pitch of any sound you throw at him), I think Antonoff should stick to guitar-playing. Get that man away from a keyboard, I’m begging you.

Synths can be, if you use them correctly, one of the most emotional and provocative instruments in any musician’s tool-box. There’s a reason why keyboards defined the 1980s; they rebelled against the very oppressive nature existing outside of the cultural company they kept. There’s resistance in electronic music that, while they brandish an aesthetic that, to a layman’s ears, seems like technicolor hues for any infectious pop track, it’s a genre that aches to tell its own story. That is simply not the case here, and that electronica hangs Swift out to dry when she drags us through the lukewarm “I laughed in your face and said, ‘You’re not Dylan Thomas, I’m not Patti Smith’ / This ain’t the Chelsea Hotel, we’re modern idiots” lines, only to hit us with a softly sung F-bomb that sounds like a billionaire’s rendition of that one Miranda Cosgrove podcast clip.

I used to rag pretty heavily on Reputation—mostly because I thought (and still do, mostly) that it sounded like Swift had given up on making interesting, progressive pop music; that, in the wake of her (arguably) best album, 1989, it seemed like she’d lost the plot on where to go next. But as she’s put out Midnights and The Tortured Poets Department back-to-back, I find myself clamoring for the Reputation-era more than ever—at least seven years ago, Swift wrote songs like she had something to prove and even more to lose.

That was the always-obvious charm of Reputation, even despite the downsides—that she took a big swing from the echelons of her own musical immortality, that the comforts of winning every award and selling out the biggest venues in the world were no longer pillowing her aspirations. Even though that swing didn’t land, she still made it in the first place—and Swift is at her best either when she is clawing upwards (Reputation) or faced with nowhere to go but into the studio and noodle with the bare-bones of her own sensibilities (folklore).

You get something like The Tortured Poets Department when the artist making it no longer feels challenged, where she strikes out looking.

The mid-ness of The Tortured Poets Department will not be a net-loss for Swift. She will sell out arenas and get her streams until she elects to quit this business (a phrase decidedly not in her vocabulary, surely).

She will sell more merch bundles than vinyl plants have the capacity to make, and rows of variant LP copies will haunt the record aisles of Target stores just as long as Midnights has—if not longer.

Perhaps, in five or six years’ time, we will speak of this record just as we now do of Reputation. But right now, it is obvious that Swift no longer feels challenged to be good. The Tortured Poets Department is the mark of an artist now interested in seeing how much their empire can atone for the sins of mediocrity.

Can Swift win another Album of the Year Grammy simply because she released a record during the eligibility period? The Tortured Poets Department reeks of “because I can,” not “because I should.”

On “I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can),” Swift tries stepping into the shoes of the country renegades who came before her—the Tammy Wynettes and Loretta Lynns of the world. But her self-aggrandizing inflation of importance, glinting through via a seismically-bland bridge, is backed by a minimal set dressing of guitar, drum machine and keys.

“Good boy, that’s right, come close,” she sings. “I’ll show you Heaven if you’ll be an angel—all mine. Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man. No, really, I can.” On “Florida!!!,” Swift calls upon Florence + the Machine to help her sing the worst chorus of 2024: “Florida is one hell of a drug / Florida, can I use you up?”

Even Welch, who is a fantastic pop singer-songwriter in her own right, delivers a grossly watery verse: “The hurricane with my name, when it came I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away.”

Not even the typos on the Spotify promotional materials for this album could have foretold such offenses. I won’t even get into the sonics, because Antonoff just rewrites the same soulless patterns every time.

What separates The Tortured Poets Department from something like Reputation is that, on the latter, Swift made it known what was at stake and who she was making that album for—herself, in the aftermath of her greatest long-standing criticisms (“Look What You Made Me Do” triumphs exactly because of this).

On The Tortured Poets Department, there is a striking level of moral nothingness. The stakes are practically non-existent, and the album sounds like it was made by someone who believes that they had no other choice but to finish it, as if Swift fundamentally believes that her creative measures are firmly embedded in the massive monopoly her name and brand currently hold on popular music. That’s how you get meandering pop songs about hookups, wine moms, Stevie Nicks comparisons, Jehovah’s Witness suit mentions, hollowed-out, tone-deaf nods to white-collar crime in lieu of empowerment and, topically, Barbie dolls.

(Don’t even get me started on the Anthology lyrics, which feature these absolute barn-burners: “Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto” and “My friends used to play a game where / We would pick a decade / We wished we could live in instead of this / I’d say the 1830s, but without all the racists / And getting married off for the highest bid.”) This album and its hackneyed grasps at relevance exist as “Did I just hear that?” personified, but in the most derogatory sense of the notion.

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” features another low-point in Swift’s lyrical oeuvre, as she sings “I felt more when we played pretend than with all the Kens, ‘cause he took me out of my box”—perhaps a measure of her capitalizing on the Barbenheimer mania that none of us could escape, not even the musician who spent most of 2023 flying across the world from one country to another.

But you, us, the listener—we want to believe that Swift makes these records because she has the artistic will, drive and interest to continue giving us parts of her story in such ways that they exist as an archival of her life.

But the problem is that, on The Tortured Poets Department, Swift is packaging her life into a form that is easily consumable for the 17 or 18 years olds who pour over her music. Just because her Eras Tour film is on Disney+ doesn’t mean she has to strip her songwriting (which we know can be, and has been, phenomenal) down for the sake of it being digestible by a wide spectrum of ages.

And, sure, maybe that makes the work accessible. But on The Tortured Poets Department, Swift makes Zoomer jargon her bag—titling a song after one of the most popular video games in the world and conjuring flickers of “down bad” and “I can fix him”—and it feels like she’s cosplaying because the Fountain of Youth was out of order.

Now that Swift is in her 30s, it sounds like she is infantilizing her own audience more than ever before—that singing to them at a level that could force them to reckon with something more akin with adulthood would be some kind of kink in the coil or her consumeristic threshold, that writing lyrics that sound like they were penned by a 30-year-old would, somehow, deter the interests of the billions of people who adore her.

If making one, continuous coming-of-age album is what Swift has been doing for 15 years, folklore and evermore were hiccups in the timeline—existing as the most fully-formed renderings of Swift’s own insecurities and concerns. They mirrored our platitudes towards an uncertain future with sweet, stirring remarks about isolation and heartbreak and the unavoidable, hard-worn truth about getting older. On those records, her larger-than-life living seemed, for once, to truly feel as close to the ground as ours.

Now, though, Taylor Swift is at the top of the mountain. Far better artists have made far worse records than The Tortured Poets Department, but you can’t read between the lines of this project. There is nothing to decipher from a place of quality.

Sure, Swift’s fan base will pour over these lyrics for the rest of their lives—insisting they know, for certain, which song is about who. But you cannot place a bad album on the shoulders of lore and expect it to be rectified.

We are now left at a crossroads. Women can’t critique Swift because they’ll run the risk of being labeled a “gender traitor” for doing so. Men can’t critique her because they’ll be touted as “sexist.”

And, sure, Swift is probably too easy a punching bag in this case—and most of the time, I would argue she is undeserving of being a victim of such barbs. But, you cannot write about someone being a “tattooed golden retriever” and get away with it and still retain your title as the best songwriter of your generation. You just cannot.

Sisyphus should be glad he never got the boulder to the top of the mountain—because Taylor Swift is showing us that such immortality and success ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. And, when you’re standing on the peak alone, who else is there left to hit?

In a recent interview with The Standard, Courtney Love said that Swift is “not interesting as an artist,” and I think The Tortured Poets Department proves as much. She has nothing to fight for, no doubters left to drown.

So where does she turn? Well, to boredoms of celebrity thinly veiled as sorrow everyone and their mother can latch onto—because we’ve all had to “ditch the clowns, get the crown” at some point in our lives, right?

The billionaire is having an identity crisis, but there are no social media apps for her to buy up. So she sings like Lana Del Rey and writes meta-self-referential songs about looking like Stevie Nicks.

What’s hollow about The Tortured Poets Department is that the real torture is just how unlivable these songs really are. No one can resonate with “So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street, crash the party like a record, scratch as I scream ‘Who’s afraid of little old me?’ You should be.” And normally, that wouldn’t be an end-all-be-all for a pop record—but when your brand is built on copious levels of “I’m just like you!” as the demigod saying it to their fans does so from a multi-million-dollar production set, it’s hard to not feel nauseated by the overlording, overbearing sense of heavy-handed detritus we’re tasked with sifting through on The Tortured Poets Department.

Love’s words to Lana, her advice to “take seven years off,” should be applied to Swift. Now, that doesn’t mean that, to make a good album, you must sit on material for years and labor extensively through the sketching, shaping and recording in order for it to be transcendentally landmark. But it’s obvious now that not even Taylor Swift wants to be the head of an empire—that she, too, can’t outrun the damning fate of being plum out of ideas by hopping in her jet and skirting off to God knows where.

See you at the Grammys.

****

[redbullgirly]

Hi, how are you? I saw your requests are open so can you please write a social media au where charles leclerc is dating a singer similar to Taylor and Travis's relationship and just the internet reactions to it the rest is up to you, thank you 🫶🏻

sabrina carpenter as face claims if you're okay with it

HEART ON TOUR [CL16 smau]

Charles Leclerc x singer!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Everybody wants to attend Y/N's world tour and that clearly includes the Ferrari star driver, Charles Leclerc. Though when at a concert, he doesn't get the chance to speak with the famous singer and ask her out, and then gets asked about it in an interview, he isn't shy to admit what his intentions were. Maybe that'll bring Y/N's attention to him... and it definitely will bring the fan's attention. Soon enough, rumors about the couple dating start running around.

Warnings: I worked on this for like 8 hours straight so it's very much possible there are some mistakes or spelling errors I didn't even notice after all that time XD.

Author's Note: Here you go Anon, hope you'll like it! I used Sabrina Carpenter as face claim because let's be honest, she has great photos for this type of social media au and is a singer as well. I made this more like a story of how Y/N and Charles started dating and the fans reaction to that and also somehow tried to replicate Taylor's and Travis' way of meeting, some events and timelines, but to match it with Formula 1 world. Thanks for the request and enjoy! :)

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by arianagrande, charles_leclerc, blakelively and 7,230,197 others

yourusername It's always great to be home, even if you're on a world tour!🇺🇸 Thank you LA for having me, singing in the rain with me and creating special atmosphere I'll remember my whole life!❤️‍🔥 And now Rio de Janeiro is waiting as the next stop of my Heart On Tour!✨🎤

view all 15,492 comments

user1 NO ONE looks that good in the rain except her

arianagrande perfect💋

liked by the author

user2 the concert was so good y'all don't understand now I can't live without knowing I'll see her sing again 😭💔

user3 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user4 Real angel right here 🤍

taylorswift Nothing screams girl power more than you honey!❤️‍🔥

yourusername thx sm taylor!!! you're literally my biggest inspo ever, love youu 🥰

user5 I love how they're fighting for the most successful and profitable tour ever but still support each other!

user6 omg stop it this is so sweet🥹

user7 The tabloids that constantly try to pit them against each other should be embarrassed XD

user8 STOOOOP NOT MY TWO PARENTS INTERACTING!!!

user9 taylor swift & y/n y/l/n... the best celebrity duo ever😻

user10 ur literally the people‘s pop princess

charles_leclerc Great concert!😍

user11 ARIANA WHAT R U DOING HERE

user12 lol user11 the fact that Ariana herself is under this post as well 😭

user13 not charles trying to shoot his shot with your queen

user14 Why is my fav f1 driver randomly commenting under Y/N's post?!����

user15 waiiittt does this mean he's been at the concert???

user16 omg NO WAYYYY🫢

user17 guys I think he was trying to flirt w her and you kinda ruined it💀

liked by charles_leclerc

user17 what the hell-

user18 you left a whole country speechless💗

user19 More like the whole world!!!

spotify WOW 🤩

user20 I wanna be Y/N so baaad

victoriassecret If you ever retire from singing, come and be our angel!💘

user21 so who's here just to first handedly look at charle's sus comment? admit it🤨

user22 meeee

user23 I thought I'm the only one 😭

user24 well when you put it like that user21...

user25 I wish I could repost comments on ig 😃

user26 🫢🫢

user27 Yeah me too guys

user28 honestly i'm not even ashamed🤷‍♀️

user29 Models are lucky you’re not a model

user30 FR

user31 BRASIL IS WAITING FOR YOU 🇧🇷❤️

user32 i seriously dont get the hype she has 🖕

user33 Then go away lol

user34 I can sense the formula one side of twitter is going to eat this upppp

user35 It's so funny how the crazy fan girls can get hyped over one comment... like be fr yn is a world famous singer ofc charles knows about her and can be her fan 🙄

user36 yeah plus I think she said herself she knows him too and is f1 fan bc she watched it with her dad or smth

user37 OMG they're each other's fans?!🥺 Idgaf about being crazy fan girly if it means we'll get this romance story!!!

user38 UR STYLIST DESERVES A RAISE 'CAUSE DAAAMN😘

user39 maybe i'm broke now but this concert was worth the money

twitter

interview with Charles

twitter

instagram direct messages between Y/N and Charles

charles_leclerc posted on instagram

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, yourusername, shawnmendes and 2,590,231 others

charles_leclerc Good days off. ❤️

view all 4,385 comments

user1 no way a woman made it to his babygirl filter instagram feed😧

user2 it's not a woman anymore... it's THE woman

user3 Uhmm...who is that girl?? In the second picture??

user4 I have a feeling that it's Y/N Y/L/N 🤭

user4 No way oh my god?!

user5 calm down guys it isn't confirmed or anything😑

carlossainz55 You are giving everybody a headache mate

liked by the author and yourusername

user6 you tell him carlito!!!!!

user7 OMG look at who liked his comment😃

user8 WAKE UP NEW PHOTOS OF CHARLES DROPPED 🗣🗣

user9 ehm charlie honey... who is that???🧐

user10 Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/NNNN

user11 Manifesting in real life lmao

user12 whats hapeningggggg

user13 he isn't single anymore 💔💔

user14 but it's y/n ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

user15 I hope so 😔❤️‍🩹

user16 What a way to start my day

user17 i literally spat out my morning coffee

user18 this is such a random soft launch help😭

user19 You see, I know that blonde hair from somewhere... 😏

user20 DAMN

user21 sorry not sorry but that's clearly y/n in the third pic🤷‍♀️

user22 💯💯💯🥇🏆

scuderiaferrari Let's rock the next Grand Prix!❤️‍🔥

liked by the author

charles_leclerc ❤️‍🔥

user23 ADMIN TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW RN

user24 interesting choice of emoji that's associated with y/n and the heart on tour 🥸🥸

user23 SUS

user24 Hard smash

user25 i love that even while soft launching he can't let go of the aesthetic filter he uses for his whole ig💀

joris__trouche lol true

user25 ohhh hi joris😭

user26 Idk who she is and tbh idgaf 'cause she's hooot 🥵😩

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by charlec_leclerc, f1, emilia_clarke, pascale.leclerc.355 and 8,016,555 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari

yourusername cruising down the street in my red car, feeling the wind whisper secrets, oh so far. 💄🎸🏎

view all 19,120 comments

user1 i never knew i needed ferrari coded y/n to live till we got her 😩

yourusername me neither babes

user1 oh my god what does that meeaaannn???!!!

user2 pop princess is living the dream so happy for you and all of your success

scuderiaferrari Everybody is a Ferrari fan ❤️

yourusername ofc!!🫡

user3 Yes we are... just pls stop giving us depression

user4 ohhh the caption screams NEW SONG

user5 right?! it's giving ✨lyrics✨

user6 let's pray for a release soon

user7 🙏🙏🙏

charles_leclerc Red suits you ❤️

liked by the author

user8 omg

yourusername wonder why ❤️

user8 OMG

user9 i dont want to be delusional... but c'mmon they gotta be dating

user10 THIS FEEL LIKE A HISTORICAL MOMENT YALL🤭

user11 ...so we're not talking about how the gp ended (or started) for charles, right?🥲

user12 idk what you're talking about🥲

user13 formation lap? naaaah it didn't happen🥲

user14 um so like you’re actually perfect

spotify you are GLOWING 🤩

user15 mommy- sorry... mommy-sorry... MOTHER

lilymhe my girl crush strikes again

liked by the author

user16 she's just like us xd

user17 I can't blame you Lily😌

user18 PLS I'M BEGGING YOU TELL US IF UR DATING CHARLES OR NOT

user19 Yall think she's real?😍

user20 congrats on dating our babygirl driver y/n!

user20 (delulu is the solulu if you're wondering)

user21 Does Charles' mom in the likes mean something??🤔

user22 i bet he talks about y/n at home 😏

user23 you two are making me too obsessed with this couple that isn't even couple and their family relationships

user22 isn't couple YET!

user24 That's the thinking I like user22 😂

user25 ICONIC❤️‍🔥

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, sophiet, charles_leclerc, kellypiquet and 11,920,374 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername secret's out i guess... love u with my whole heart and i'll be forever glad you went to my concert!💝

speaking of music, he's also my muse y'all so be prepared for new album coming soon 😚

view all 20,199 comments

user1 AAGGHAHGDGADGASDHJGAD

user2 only acceptable reaction

user1 I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I'M MORE EXCITED ABOUT THEM DATING OR Y/N MAKING NEW ALBUM TBH

user2 again, only acceptable reaction

charles_leclerc Proud of you mi amor!😘

liked by the author

yourusername and i'm proud of you too honey 🥹🫶

user3 they're so sweet I caaaaan't

user4 FINALLY!!!! big congrats to you both

arthur_leclerc How did he even get you to date him?😆

yourusername let's say your big bro can be charming when he wants to... 😌

arthur_leclerc Okay NO NEED for details😅

yourusername xdd

user5 MY ROMAN EMPIRE

user6 everybody's roman empire im afraid😍

user7 how can you both be so damn hot?!

carlossainz55 Does this mean free tickets? 😏

yourusername we'll se about that

landonorris pls y/n

danielricciardo hiiii y/n

alex_albon think of my gf y/n

yourusername okay okay you convinced me

maxverstappen1 I bet it was Alex's comment that convinced you

yourusername ...no need to expose me like that max emilian ☹️

user8 they're the IT couple

user9 Look at how cute Charlie looks in the 5th photo🥰

user10 OMG YEEES

user11 hey am I the only one who's instagram is glitching and not working???

user12 loool Y/N and Charles broke the internet😭

user13 Yeah and they took it too literally 'cause my ig is acting weird as well 💀

user15 look at my fav couple 😻

user16 I hope she'll bring him luck in the next f1 season

scuderiaferrari Everybody is an Y/N fan ❤️

liked by the author

charles_leclerc 🫡

user17 FACTS!!!

user18 mommy and daddy right there

user19 idgaf about her and Charles THE QUEEN IS WORKING ON MORE SONGS YEEEES

f1 Welcome to the family Y/N! 🫶

liked by the author and charles_leclerc

user20 she's the best wag ever 💕

user21 THE MOMENT I WAITED FOR IS HERE

user22 I'm looking at the third photo respectfully 🤭

user23 i love this soft side of Charles omg🥺

user24 righttt? he should post photos like this as well, its better than those professional ones on his profile

user25 Totally agree with this

user26 my jaw dropped but I'm happy about it

user27 idk but charles & y/n definitely won my heart

user28 😍😍

user29 NEW ALBUUUUM

user30 Y/N Y/L/N you'll be forever famous!❤️‍🔥

BONUS

Enchanted Wheels by Y/N Y/L/N (lyrics):

Cruising down the street in my red car,

Feeling the wind whisper secrets, oh so far.

Monaco lights, they dance in the night,

As I search for a love that feels so right.

In this city so bright, I'm lost in the haze,

But I know deep inside, I'll find my soul's maze.

I'm chasing dreams, like chasing the moon,

In this journey, I'll find my love soon.

Enchanted wheels taking me away,

Through the starlit skies, where love will stay.

In the magic of Monaco, my heart takes flight,

Hoping destiny guides me to my soulmate tonight.

Driving through the streets, past midnight's hour,

Looking for heartbeats that give me the power.

In every stranger's eyes, I see fleeting sparks,

But I won't settle for less, only love from the heart.

Monaco's captivating, but love's the real deal,

I won't let go until my heart can finally heal.

The city's alive with endless possibilities,

Somewhere out here, there's a love meant for me.

Enchanted wheels taking me away,

Through the starlit skies, where love will stay.

In the magic of Monaco, my heart takes flight,

Hoping destiny guides me to my soulmate tonight.

I've been searching high and low,

Through the crowds, I hope you'll show.

I believe in fate, destiny's plan,

Perhaps you're just one turn away, my soul's lifeline.

Enchanted wheels taking me away,

Through the starlit skies, where love will stay.

In the magic of Monaco, my heart takes flight,

Hoping destiny guides me to my soulmate tonight.

With every passing mile, my hope grows stronger,

In this journey for love, I won't wait any longer.

Enchanted wheels, lead me to my greatest win,

In Monaco, I'll find my soulmate, love from within.

THE END

Author's Note: Wow, this took m longer than expected (and the worst part was finding that one picture that somehow matches Charles' instagram filter), but I'm really satisfied with the result. Hope you liked this social media au and once again, I'll be grateful for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of showing your support. Also a little disclaimer: I didn't write the whole song, just a part of it and then helped myself with AI because I'm not really good in songwriting. Though I'm still curious if you liked the bonus, so let me know. Good night! :)

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 8: you’re losing me, part 7: revenge dress, series masterlist

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 8! taylor swift deserves jail time for creating you’re losing me. taylor swift also deserves jail time for not officially releasing it. def recommend listening to it reading the chapter! (might have to stream illegally bc mother is being stingy 🙄.)

INSTAGRAM, july 17 (midnight)

liked by paulwesley, ninadobrev, and 13,333,112 others

yourinstagram and just like that, the final chapter of Midnights, is out now. this is my most personal body of work that i'm putting out into the universe, and i'm so scared yet excited to share her with u. thank u to my team, my producer jackantonoff turned dearest friend of almost 7 years (woah!!!) we spent many noons & midnights on this album and i'm forever in debt n grateful. thank u to all my other friends who i didn't mention, yk who u are. to everyone else, thank u for your persistent patience and support. it does not go unnoticed. from my heart to yours, midnights (till dawn edition), is available on all streaming platforms. i love u. thank u 💗.

View all 101,273 comments

leclerccharl ain’t that the teddy bear charles won for her at the fair forever ago??!

y/nsfeverdreamhigh leclerccharl o em gee yeah..

fernandoalonso_offical Proud of you cariño

barbie 🥹🥹💗💗

landonoriss screaming crying shaking throwing up

danielricciardo gagging choking ascending to god

authur_leclerc Love you always, Proud of you always ❤️

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 17

zendaya 30m

viewed by alexademie, tomholland2013, and 64,134 others

badgalriri 2h

viewed by harrystyles, bellahadid, and 3,262,128 others

sabrinacarpenter 5h

viewed by zendaya, lola.tung, and 1,524,211 others

TWITTER, july 17

The song’s big question: “Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?”

BY: ALLY PUBLISHED: JULY 17, 2023

Y/n L/n’s lyrical candidness is what has always made her standout as a songwriter. Whether she was writing about young love, relationships, or breakups, her songs never flinched from trying to paint a full picture, even if it was one that was hard to look at.

It’s been a while since the super star has released a breakup song, but it was only a matter of time; since the singer split with Charles Leclerc, fans have already began anticipating the inevitable breakup album. But it turns out they didn’t have to wait long. At Midnight (July 17), L/n released a second deluxe edition of her 2022 album Midnights, which included four new songs, among them the release of “You’re Losing Me,” a song fans have deciphered as ostensibly about her split with Leclerc.

via @yourinstagram on instagram

The nearly 5-minute track is a devastating relationship ender if we’ve ever heard one, as it details the hopeless and tragic dissolution of a relationship. Though L/n doesn’t include any names or details, it’s not hard to see why fans are interpreting it as being about her and Leclerc. 

When Entertainment Weekly first broke the news of their split in April, sources for both parties diplomatically described the breakup as amicable, and that “it was not dramatic.” “The relationship had just run its course,” one source told ET. However, that story was debunked as L/n herself, stated Leclerc had an affair with Australian Youtuber Lola Ransdell, in one of her Eras Tour Shows.  With the release of “You’re Losing Me,” L/n seems to offer a window into her perspective of how things ended while also releasing one of the most devastating songs she’s ever written.

Its lyrics don’t waste any time getting into the tragic heart of the matter. “You say, ‘I don't understand,’ and I say, ‘I know you don’t’/ We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won’t/ Remember looking at this room, we loved it ‘cause of the light/ Now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time,” she sings in the first verse, painting a portrait of two people who are unaligned and have seemingly grown apart in their relationship.

The pre-chorus lays out the song’s big question: “Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?” But waiting for resolution feels like something L/n doesn’t want to do anymore: “I'm getting tired, even for a phoenix/ Always rising from the ashes/ Mending all her gashes/ You might just have dealt the final blow,” she sings.

The most heart-wrenching part of the song comes in on the chorus, as she warns her other half, “Stop, you're losing me/ Stop, you’re losing me/ Stop, you’re losing me I can't find a pulse/ My heart won't start anymore/ For you/ ‘Cause you're losing me.” The lyrics mirror the song’s production which sounds like a quietly pulsing heartbeat, driving the knife’s blade of the song in even deeper.

Perhaps L/n’s biggest skill on this song is being able to convey all the heartbreak and roiling emotion without actually providing any specifics into the breakup. 

“You’re Losing Me” is rife with frank, confessional lyrics, but still keeps many of the exact contours of the split obscure. There are no accusations or fingers pointed at who’s at fault. There are no mic drop moments or explosive gossip; The closest L/n gets to revealing any details is on the second verse, when she seems to suggest that the relationship hadn’t been OK for a while now.

“Every morning, I glared at you with storms in my eyes/ How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?/ I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick/ My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick,” she sings.

On the bridge, L/n reveals that she “wouldn’t marry me either,” perhaps offering the tiniest, sliver of hints into one of the other reasons why they ultimately fell apart: “And I wouldn't marry me either/ A pathological people pleaser/ Who only wanted you to see her/ And I'm fading, thinking/ Do something, babe, say something (say something)/ Lose something, babe, risk something (risk something)/ Choose something, babe, I got nothing (I got nothing)/ To believe, unless you’re choosing me.”

It’s the lack of details, the palpable restraint despite L/n’s clear heartbreak behind its lyrics, that makes “You’re Losing Me” perhaps the most devastating song in her catalog (yes, even more so than “All Too Well.”) Amid the grief and sadness of the song, there’s also a feeling of inevitability, of sorrow that nothing more could be done, of pointlessly waiting for action when you know nothing is coming.

 In some regards, it’s one of L/n’s most mature breakup songs in her catalog, regardless of whoever it’s about. And if this is just a “from the vault” track, it makes one wonder what an albums-worth of these songs would sound like.

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• Lola Ransdell Cancelled over resurfaced racism tweets

• Lola Ransdell loses brand deals over Y/n L/n drama

• Charles Leclerc finally breaks his silence over Y/n L/n Breakup

ally’s radio 📻:a filler chapter im sorry😞 but anyways, the related stories r a sneak peak of the next chapter🤫 if u asked me to tag u and i didn’t, pls send me a message or inbox me bc it might’ve gotten lost 😭 i try to stay up-to-date but sometimes i miss people so pls lmk!!!

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[dragonbarbie]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 2

aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au

series summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up. loosely inspired by the tv series one day!

rating: 18+, minors dni.

tags: alcohol, substance abuse, making out, titty sucking, blink and youll miss it dry humping (lmk if i missed something)

word count: 5.1k

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A/N: im so overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter! im so sorry this took so long, this chapter was originally well over 8k so ive just decided to split it, which means the next chapter is pretty much ready maybe ill have it up by wednesday. thank you so much to everyone who interacted, hope you like this. [not beta read!]

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

divider credit @cafekitsune ! title of fic is from 'peter' by taylor swift.

Age 18

“i think that’s enough pictures, mum.” y/n held up her arms to shield herself from any more photographs her mother might take. she felt self-conscious enough already, grimacing at every picture, thinking how the flaws glaringly stood out. her parents thought she looked beautiful as always though, and wanted as many photos as possible to keep as memories of their daughter’s special night. only she didn’t want to believe there was anything so ‘special’ about it anyway.

she heard an impatient car honk coming from outside, just in time for her to make her exit. “let me at least take a picture of you and your date.” her well-meaning mother attempted, earning a whine from her daughter, “for the last time he’s not my date.” not really he wasn’t, they were just going as mates, nothing more, she reminded herself as she waved her parents a quick goodbye.

then why did her stomach flutter seeing aegon leaning against his irritatingly green, flashy sports car. taking a drag of his cigarette, his platinum hair was mostly gelled back, few strands allowed to fall to his eyes either fashionably or as a result of hurry. he was dressed simply, black suit and a white shirt. but seven hells did he wear the hell out of that suit, y/n had to admit. he looked neater than usual, the light stubble he usually carried had now been shaved off, his eyes didn’t look nearly as red as she was accustomed to. he even wore dress shoes, when truthfully y/n had been betting on him showing up in his usual jordans.

she couldn’t help but beam as she realised walking towards him, that all this effort he had made for her. aegon hadn’t even wanted to go to their senior prom. he’d said he would simply throw the after-party for the prom back at his mansion, where he wouldn’t be required to ‘come dressed as a penguin,’ in his words. the entire school knew about aegon’s famous ragers by now, and the night of senior prom was guaranteed to be the greatest ‘one-last-hurrah’.

it was y/n who had wanted to go, in order to live the full high school experience before they would be forced to enter the adult world after summer. and there was no one else she would have rather taken to prom. so, after countless hours begging and pleading (and some threatening), aegon finally relented. but his acquiescence hadn’t guaranteed to her that he would even bother following the dress code. yet, here they were.

she was going to comment on what a pleasant surprise it was to see him look like a ‘penguin,’ when she saw the look on his face. his eyes were suddenly alert and his mouth slightly agape, cigarette in his hand forgotten momentarily with his hand hanging still in the air holding it.

“what is it? do i have something on my face? on the dress?” she patted her cheek in alarm, before looking down at her dress. she’d chosen a simple black, satin dress that hugged her just right, pairing it with the deepest red lipstick she could find. she smoothened the front in anxiety, scared her high heels were going to make her trip on the fabric any second.

“no, it’s just...you look nice. very pretty.” her eyes focussed on aegon’s trying to gauge his expression, but his gaze remained transfixed on her figure.

“is it that shocking that i would look pretty, that you have to go and make that face?” she snorted. that snapped aegon’s attention back to her face with an eyeroll, “i didn’t mean it like that and you know it. you look good, would it kill you to just take the compliment?” her lips turned upwards at his words, “yeah i’m just messing with ya.” she tried to hide how the praise made her feel warm inside her chest.

“you don’t look so bad yourself, targaryen. look you’re even wearing the shoes and everything.” aegon grinned at the words giving a quick twirl to show off his full look. “who knew you had it in you?” she teased.

“had to step up my game. can't let my date outshine me, can i?"

date? the word rang in her ears. did aegon think this was an actual date?

“oh, please,” she tried to maintain a cool façade, seemingly uncaring of his words, “i've always outshined you.”

“only because i let you.” he claimed, flashing her one of those lazy half smiles of his that would make her mind wander to what else he was capable of doing with those lips—

she immediately shook her head to get that image out of her mind.

“got you something. well, technically mum got you something” aegon opened the passenger seat of the car, and retrieved from it a beautiful, very expensive looking bouquet. “she wouldn’t let me leave the house without flowers for my date” there it was, that word again, ‘date’!  she thought, astonished as she received them.

did aegon think this was a date? a date-date? was he expecting something? did she expect something? her mind started to race with a hundred things.

she had to clear her throat to bring herself back to the present, “these are beautiful, tell alicent i love them.”

“great, can we go now? i want to get the boring part over with so we can properly party later at my place.”

the prom itself ended up being less dreadful than aegon had been sure it was going to be. aegon spiked the drinks, and then proceeded to get his friends leon and martyn as drunk as possible. it didn’t escape y/n’s notice that aegon himself, was merely buzzed. she even dared to hope for a second that he was limiting his cups out of respect for her, and her very known hatred of his drinking himself into blackouts.

he remained clear-headed enough to laugh about and reminisce with her over their years at the academy. “no, i remember clearly, you’ve never once said sorry about making me fall on my first day.” y/n accused as she attempted to drink the very strong punch aegon had made for her. “and i remember very clearly, you came in my way.”

she narrowed her eyes at his blatant lie. “cunt.” he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at her drunken-vitriol. “and i think that’s quite enough for you.” he grabbed the cup out of her hands in spite of protests. “good gods, aegon targaryen preaching moderation? must be the apocalypse.” she nudged him playfully.

in that moment, smiling and laughing with her best friend, she couldn’t help but realise that this time of their life was coming to an end. come fall, they would be on different sides of the country.

y/n had been accepted at her first choice, sunspear university only weeks ago, but she hadn’t discussed it with aegon. he hadn’t spoken of his plans for university either but helaena had told her that their grandfather was using his pull to get him into the family alma mater, oldtown college.

any time she had attempted to so much as talk about life beyond school with aegon himself though, aegon would get irritated and cagey, eager to shut down any and all conversations about the future. then again she couldn’t blame him, for some reason her first instinct too had been to hide that acceptance letter from him.

yet as they stood there, she had a feeling that he was thinking about the same great uncertainty that lay ahead too. thinking, that their days of being by each other’s side like this every day were numbered.

“come on” he suddenly offered her his arms, getting a puzzled look in return. “you wanted the ‘full high school experience’ right? dancing at prom is kinda the main thing.”

she let him lead her to the dance floor, feeling her cheeks going red. he brought them right in the middle, and when he placed her arms around his neck, his own hands becoming placed around her waist, she couldn’t find a word to say.

couples around them were slow dancing to some song she couldn’t quiet place, and she couldn’t believe that aegon had willingly placed himself in the scene around them. this suit, the shoes, the dancing, the flowers – none of it was remotely close to his scene. yet she had barely heard him complain. she had to give it to him, he had been on his best behaviour because he knew how much the night meant to her.

“thank you,” she finally said, looking at him with adoration in her eyes. “for agreeing to come.”

aegon’s expression was unreadable at first. after a second he seemed like he was going to lean in towards her to say something, when his eye caught something behind y/n shoulder.

she turned her neck to see who it was and felt her heart drop down in her stomach.

cassandra baratheon, the most sought-after girl at school, her golden hair and confident demeanour were hard to miss. y/n looked up to see aegon was transfixed on the tight red dress she wore.

she felt his hands drop from her waist, “get you something to drink?” but he didn’t so much as look at his friend.

“sure” she mumbled, trying to mask her disappointment, but he didn’t wait for a response before he started walking towards the blonde.

she watched as aegon approached cassandra, his charm on full display. y/n sighed, tired of how predictable his routine was. she danced with a few classmates, trying to keep her spirits up, but it wasn’t the same without aegon.

after a while, she grew tired of pretending and slipped out of the ballroom, certain she wasn’t going to be followed by the only person she wanted to be with. she started walking in the direction of her home, too angry to think to call someone to pick her up.

the sound of her heels against the pavement and the chattering of her own teeth from the unexpectedly cold night couldn’t distract her from her woeful thoughts.

she should have expected this, she chided herself. aegon’s attention had always been fleeting, especially when it came to pretty girls. but it still hurt. she had hoped, maybe just for tonight, things would be different. at the beginning of the night he’d been giving her all his attention, and making her feel as if she was the only one who mattered in that room.

yet, he had to go ahead and ruin that, by chasing one more skirt to add to his long list of distractions from anything that could actually matter.

when she reached her house she was grateful her parents had long since gone to bed, not wanting to talk about her night.  she walked up to her room and changed into some comfortable clothes.

she curled up on her bed, but sleep seemed to escape her. she tossed and turned but she could not forget the look on her best friend’s face when he looked at cassandra baratheon, ignoring her. she couldn’t help but wish that the way his eyes trailed down her figure, the open lust with which he watched her, the desire that carried him away from her – she wanted it all to be hers.

it was perhaps the first time she had admitted it to herself. she wanted this, she wanted him and not just as a friend.

her mind then wandered to that one moment of hope she had not dared to let herself dwell on. the way his hands felt rested on her back, how he looked for a split second as if he were going to lean in to her, what might that have felt like if it had been allowed to go on? would he have kissed her? would his lips have felt as soft as they looked? would his tongue—

she didn’t realise when in the middle of all these wandering thoughts her hand had slipped down to underneath her shorts. over the cloth of her panties, she could feel a wetness building as she slowly rubbed the top of her entrance, her imagination building up the tension between her legs.

just as she was getting comfortable though, she got the fright of her life when she heard her window open. “fuck me!” she sat up straight on her bed, clutching her blanket in front of her chest.

she let out an exasperated breath at the now-messy platinum hair glinting in the moonlight, that she could make out even in the darkness of her room. she moved to get up and turn on the lamp next to her bed. the light revealed a slightly different aegon to the one she had left back at the dance, stumbling into her room.

his jacket now gone, his white shirt was untucked and the first few buttons had been left undone (one of them was missing, from what she could tell), the semi-open shirt allowed her to make out lipstick smears trailing his chest. his eyes were red, and the fact that he couldn’t seem to walk straight, told her he’d returned to drinking at his usual pace once she’d made her exit.

“what are you doing here?” she sighed, crossing her arms across her chest, both defensively and because her bra had been long discarded, which left the tank top she wore revealing far too much for her liking.

he almost looked earnest when he answered “came looking for you. you never showed up to the party at my place.”

“yeah, well i don’t like your parties” “sure you do!” he snorted

“no, aegon i don’t! i never have. i only ever come for you and i’m miserable the entire while, and you never notice!”

he looked hurt at her accusation, blinking as if it had never crossed his mind that she didn’t enjoy getting high and causing chaos as much as he did. that hurt quickly turned into anger of his own as he shot back.

“fine, even if you didn’t wanna come to the party, why did you leave prom so early? for weeks it’s all you wanted to do, going to prom. you dragged my ass there and then just ‘puff’ i turn my back for one second, and you’ve disappeared.” he sounded almost as if he felt abandoned, wounded.

“you seemed busy.” she cooly replied.

“busy?” aegon echoed, his brows furrowing. “i was just talking to people.”

y/n shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and frustration. “you always do this, aegon. you leave me for the first pretty girl that catches your eye.”

he shook his head as if y/n were being the unreasonable one here “it’s not like that.”

“then what is it like?” she demanded, her voice rising. “because it feels like you’re always looking for a distraction. and tonight, i needed you.” her eyes burned as tears pooled in them. “it was our last night in school. it meant something.”

he flinched at her words, the truth of how much he had bruised her, cutting through the haze of alcohol. “i didn’t mean to—"

“didn’t mean to what? make me feel invisible?” y/n's voice softened, the anger giving way to sadness. “it’s like you don’t care.”

aegon stood there, steadying himself by leaning against the desk, looking deflated. “i do care, y/n. you’re my best friend.” she could tell he was trying, trying to make her see he cared, trying to be a good friend. the fact that he had left his own party simply to come look in on her, hadn’t gone unnoticed by her.

but unluckily for him, y/n was tired of his constant trying when she knew it never led to any real change.

she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “we need to talk about something else, too. we’ve been avoiding it all year.”

aegon looked up at her, confusion and apprehension mingling in his eyes. “what do you mean?”

“college, aegon. you’re going to oldtown, and i’m headed to sunspear,” y/n said, her voice trembling slightly. “i’ve tried to bring it up, but you always change the subject.”

he looked away from her, fiddling with the rings on his fingers almost anxiously. “because i don’t want to think about it.”

“well too bad, because we have to discuss it” she insisted. “this is big. we’ve never so much as spent one summer break apart, you’ve dragged me to every family vacation and christmas dinner. but come fall, that’s over. you don’t think that’s important enough to even talk about? doesn’t it matter to you at all?”

“of course it matters!” he finally spat out, taking stumbling steps towards her. “i don’t want to talk about it because i know it’ll change everything.”

aegon’s eyes were glassy, his emotions threatening to spill over. “because you’ll be far away, making new friends, living a different life. you get to conveniently walk out on me and my fuck ups. i don’t want to talk about it because you’re leaving me.”

“leaving you?” the aegon that stood before her was shaking like a scared child, gone was the playful, laid back popular boy. for the first time that night, she could see clearly through him, the first time he’d allowed her to.

y/n moved closer, taking his hands in hers. “aegon, i could never leave you.” she promised. “you’re a part of me. distance doesn’t change that.”

“you say that now…” he mumbled, looking away as she caught tears running down his cheek.

“i’m not leaving you,” she repeated, more firmly this time, her heart aching for him. “we’ll find a way to make it work. i promise.”

“do you really mean that?” her hand reached out to his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of her thumb. “with all my heart,” she whispered. the vulnerability in his eyes was raw and unfiltered as he confessed “i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t,” she assured him, putting her arms around him as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “we’ll figure it out, together.” she sounded sure, determined.

he clung to her, and she could smell the weed and cigarettes on his shirt, she knew that he wasn’t as clear-headed as he should have been for the conversation they were having. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, y/n.” he muttered into her hair. she smiled against his chest. “lucky for you, you don’t ever have to find out.”

as one of his hands trailed down to her lower back, she suddenly felt her shorts were far too short for her to be having company. his other hand started to rub at her side, his thumb brushing up against the side of her breast and lingering just enough that she knew he could tell she was bare beneath her flimsy cotton top.

they’d been standing in silence for a minute when he suddenly spoke up, “i’m sorry that i mess everything up, you deserved to have me there with you tonight.”

his hand had stopped right by her cleavage, causing her throat to dry up. “it was just a stupid dance.”

“yeah, but it mattered to you.” he brought his other hand to her ass, as he pulled apart slightly to look down at her. her breathing became rapid as she looked back up at him.

in that moment, the tension between them shifted. aegon leaned in, his lips brushing against hers hesitantly. y/n responded, closing the distance again, with more passion.

there was a sense of urgency, a rush as his tongue entered her mouth. the hand on her ass moved to slip past her shorts and panties to grab at her bare skin, causing her to moan into his mouth. her own hands attempted to undo the few remaining buttons on his dress shirt, before letting her fingers roam around his exposed chest.

he pushed them back, till she felt the edge of her bed behind her making her fall back on it, pulling him down with her as she went.

his mouth moved to trail sloppy, wet kisses on her neck, and then down to her collarbone. she could feel him use his teeth, marking her for the next day.

situated as he was between her legs, she could feel his semi-hard on from under his pants, rubbing against her in the most delicious way making her wrap her legs tighter around him, to feel that friction more intensely.

his mouth broke away from her now-sensitive skin momentarily, as he lifted her top enough to expose her breasts to him. his hands roughly gripped the flesh, making y/n gasp with how cool his rings felt pressed to her skin.

his mouth then took in one of her nipples, as she whimpered at the sensation, her fingers pulling his hair as he flicked it with his tongue, before sucking on it.

when he finally lifted his head to look up at y/n, she couldn’t believe the scene before her. in that moment aegon was looking her with a hunger and wanting, that she didn’t think he’d even given cassandra baratheon.

what might come next though, made y/n nervous. she’d never gone this far with a boy before, reasoning with herself that she’d never liked anyone enough. but she could admit to herself now that she’d been waiting to share that experience with aegon, waiting for him to come around.

still, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go all the way, or how to do it if she was.

thankfully for her, aegon reached ahead and merely kissed her lips once more, softer this time. then, even more unexpectantly, he placed a final, tender kiss atop her head, before climbing off from between her thighs and crashing down on the pillow beside her.

she blinked at the figure of him, lying next to her completely relaxed, as if what they’d just done was so routine, it didn’t warrant another thought. “get that lamp light next to you, would you?” he yawned.

as if in a daze, y/n wordlessly switched the light off, plunging the room into darkness.

she could hear him breathing beside her, close enough to block her nose with the smell of cigarettes she was sure she’d have to wash out of the sheets the next day. but with his pale hair falling like that against his fluttering eyes, she knew he was the only person she wanted, flaws and all.

drowsiness began to take over her after sometime, and she wasn’t sure if she actually heard him mumbling “love you” or if she’d dreamt it but she drifted off with a faint smile on her face nonetheless.

the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over y/n’s room. she stirred awake, stretching out lazily when her eyes fell on to the snoring boy beside her. she couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful his face looked, her hand stretching out to tuck behind the strands of platinum falling to his eyes.

she tried to be as quiet as she could in walking to her bathroom. standing in front of her mirror, she noticed the now purpling hickey right by her collarbone. she still couldn’t quite believe that the events of last night had actually occurred, but the evidence was staring her right in the face. her fingertips grazed the bruise, and the corners of her lips turned upwards automatically.

she washed her face and brushed her teeth in a haze, where all she could think about was what was going to happen next. would she and aegon have a conversation about it, or would he pretend it was nothing? oh god, what if he regretted it? the thought made her tense. instead of going back to her room she sat on the edge of her bathtub, nervously thinking about what impact last night would have on their friendship. she couldn’t imagine losing aegon, she thought. if it came down to taking whatever happened yesterday forward or saving their friendship, she would pick the latter, she determined. before she could lose her nerve, she decided to go back to her room with that thought.

upon her return she realised the object of all her anxiety was already up, rubbing his eyes with his palms and groaning, clearly nursing a hangover. her heart suddenly started to pound in her chest. “you’re up early. it’s not even noon yet.” she teased as she came to sit by him. “and morning to you too” he grumbled.

“how are you feeling?” she hesitantly asked, “like i got hit by a bus,” he said, attempting a weak grin.

she gave him a faint chuckle. she looked around the room as silence filled the space. she was hoping that he’d be the one to bring up last night, rather than making her go through the embarrassment and awkwardness of coming to that topic.

how did you even start that conversation? she wondered as she pulled at a few strands of embroidery coming untethered from the rest of her bedsheet. ‘hey last night was the best kiss i’ve ever had, let’s do it again sometime soon’? no, that wasn’t it. she stole a glance at aegon who had picked up his phone, neither of them having said anything to break the silence. i could start by telling him how i’ve always liked him? no that would definitely activate his commitment-phobia, and he’d go running out the door, she realised. sitting this long without either of them talking felt far too weird and she started to panic slightly.

she kept thinking if he was going to approach the topic, wondering if she should instead, when suddenly aegon got off her bed.

“what have we got here” he walked over to the basket where some of her old toys had been kept for her mother to donate when she went to college. “nothing just some old things” she replied, surprised that this was what he wanted to discuss now. he seemed to be entertaining himself by going through her things as if he hadn’t been in her room a hundred times before.

well, if he was going to avoid it, y/n decided she should be the one to rip off the band-aid. she cleared her throat to start speaking, when he suddenly cut her off, “do you still have that lightsabre i gave you for your 12th birthday? the one that used to light up and all?” “no, because you broke it playing with it in my garden that same day you gifted it.” she reminded him, “right…” he muttered, before going back to his rummaging.

this time she stood up and walked over to him, and started to say, “y’know i think we should talk—” “what’s ollie doing here?” grinning, he grabbed an old red octopus from the basket and lifted one of its stuffed tentacles to wave at her. “did this mean old lady steal you from me ollie?” “no, you stole him from me, remember? and alicent had to return it back” she reminded him, snatching the toy back from him in irritation. if he was going to keep mucking about, she was never going to be able finish what she wanted to say.

she exhaled a big sigh, and built up her courage again, “we have to talk about last night—” “yeah, what did happen last night?”

she could only blink, as aegon nonchalantly asked, not even bothering to look up from the box of broken, dusty toys. “what do you mean ‘what happened’?”

“as in how did i end up in your bed?” he laughed, “don’t remember much after us arriving at prom” her heart sank at his words. “you blacked out.” she said in realisation. she turned around and walked back to sit on her bed so he wouldn’t see her wounded expression.

he didn’t even remember what was possibly one of the biggest moments of her life, something so monumental that she’d woken up this morning as if waking up to a new life. all those years she'd spent unknowingly pining for him, she’d thought that now there was finally some hope that she could actually be with him. but one little sentence from him had made her memory of last night dissipate like a mirage.

what had she even been thinking, he was drunk out of his mind and was probably barely in knowledge of himself when they did what they did last night. it was a mistake, and it should have never happened. she couldn’t control the tears slipping down her cheeks, her back facing aegon to shield herself subconsciously.

“you were pretty drunk. you climbed up to my room and we talked for a while. you fell asleep here.” she answered in robotic narration, not daring a look at him. she wiped her face quickly as she heard him stop with his aimless search and come sit next to her.

“sounds accurate. i do anything stupid i should know about?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern. it was the standard question he asked when he blacked out. for a second, she wondered if she should tell him everything.

y/n shook her head, smiling faintly. “no, you didn't. just needed a place to crash.”

she thought about it rationally – even if they did talk about last night, what was going to be the best-case scenario? he would be glad of what he did? but even then, what would happen next? she was going to dorne, and him to the reach, and a long distance anything was going to be impossible enough. here they were nervous about their friendship surviving the distance, but a relationship? she couldn’t see any way this would end well.

and this was considering if aegon even wanted any of it. last night may have been special for her, but if drunken fooling around and crashing into bed was all it took to get him to pursue someone romantically, half the school was ahead of her in that line.

this was the best thing for both of them, she sadly thought, to preserve their friendship.

him putting his arm across her shoulders and squeezing her brought her out of her miserable thoughts, “thanks for looking out for me, as always.”

“of course,” she replied softly. “that's what friends are for.”

aegon met her gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “yeah, best friends.”

a few minutes later she left momentarily to get herself a glass of water but by the time she returned, her room was empty with her window left open and her red octopus missing once again from her bed.

[artyandink]

the art of heresy forged 2022

SUMMARY: Modern day, 2022, and you have no clue what’s going on. You knew what you went through. You knew it was real, but why were there people trying to convince you that everything that happened to you wasn’t real. Hell, you called bullshit. But you get your chance to fight back when you get a call at your door.

TW: psychological torture, trauma, angst, smut, drinking, consumption of drugs, smoking, mentions of sex, blood, murder, gore, Ben (cause he’s an individual warning), derogatory remarks, gunfire, murder, killing, lots of it, it’s The Boys so be careful guys, really creepy shit, crack, literal crack

STW: fingering, Ben being Ben, degradation, explicit spoken detail, practically manhandling

A/N - divider by @chachachannah

Song Inspo: Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift

keep it quiet

NICARAGUA, 1983:

The sun hung low in the Nicaraguan sky, casting long shadows over the dense jungle. The air was thick with humidity, clinging to every leaf, every blade of grass, and every breath the small town's inhabitants took. A deep, unsettling quiet had settled over the place, punctuated only by the occasional call of distant birds or the rustle of leaves. The tranquility of the town was deceptive, however, masking the turmoil that had gripped the world beyond its borders.

In the heart of the town, a small news station buzzed with a rare energy. Reporters shuffled about, their voices tense, their faces drawn with concern. The camera lights were harsh against the evening gloom, casting sharp shadows on the walls of the makeshift studio. Outside, a handful of locals gathered, their curiosity piqued by the unusual activity. News had traveled fast, as it always did in small towns, and the disappearance of Soldier Boy was no exception. For the people of this remote corner of the world, the arrival of a famous superhero—however dire the circumstances—was an event worth witnessing.

Inside the studio, the main anchor, a seasoned reporter named Esteban Garcia, sat behind a worn wooden desk, straightening the stack of notes before him. His dark eyes were set with a determination that had been honed over years of covering stories that often blurred the lines between the ordinary and the extraordinary. But today, the story was unlike any other he had ever covered.

Esteban had been one of the first to receive the report that Soldier Boy, the legendary superhero and symbol of American might, had gone missing during a covert operation in Nicaragua. The details were still murky, shrouded in a haze of classified information and official denials. What was clear, however, was that the man who had once been invincible, the man who had been the living embodiment of strength and bravery, was now feared dead.

As Esteban shuffled his notes one last time, the door to the studio creaked open, and in walked a woman who seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. Crimson Countess was a striking figure; her red hair, usually fiery and untamed, was pulled back into a tight bun. Her crimson suit, once a beacon of power and confidence, seemed to have lost its luster, the fabric dull and wrinkled as if it, too, had been drained of life.

She moved with a heaviness that Esteban hadn't seen before, her every step measured, her every breath labored. As she approached the interview chair, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly. This was not the Crimson Countess the world had come to know—the fierce, unyielding force that had fought alongside Soldier Boy for years. This was a woman on the brink, teetering between despair and the desperate need to hold herself together.

"Thank you for coming, Countess," Esteban said, his voice gentle but firm. He gestured to the chair opposite him, and she lowered herself into it, her movements slow and deliberate. "I know this must be an incredibly difficult time for you."

Countess nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, she seemed unable to speak, her throat working to push down the grief that threatened to spill over. When she finally did find her voice, it was hoarse, raw with emotion.

"Difficult doesn’t even begin to cover it," she murmured, her eyes fixed on some point in the distance, far beyond the walls of the studio. "I’ve… I’ve been through a lot with Soldier Boy. We all have. But this… this is different."

Esteban nodded, giving her the space she needed to gather her thoughts. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words, with the weight of shared history and the looming specter of loss. Outside, the gathering crowd pressed closer to the windows, straining to catch even the faintest whisper of what was being said inside.

"He was… he is," she corrected herself quickly, as if to banish the thought of his death from existence, "the strongest person I’ve ever known. Indestructible, or so we all thought. To think that he could be… gone… it’s like waking up in a nightmare you can’t escape from."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she closed her eyes tightly, as if that could somehow block out the pain. Esteban felt a pang of sympathy. He had seen many interviews like this before—family members of the missing, the grieving, the lost. But this was different. This was Crimson Countess, a superhero, someone who was supposed to be beyond the reach of such ordinary, human emotions. And yet here she was, broken in a way that no enemy had ever managed to break her.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Esteban asked softly, careful not to push too hard, but knowing that the world was desperate for answers. "Anything at all that you know?"

Countess opened her eyes and looked at him. For a moment, she seemed to be weighing her words, deciding how much to reveal, how much to hold back. Then, with a deep breath, she began to speak.

"It was supposed to be a routine mission," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "We’ve done this kind of thing a hundred times before—go in, neutralize the threat, get out. But something went wrong. I… I wasn’t there when it happened, I was in a different part of the field, but I spoke to him on the comms. He was… he was confident, as always. He didn’t think anything could go wrong."

She paused, swallowing hard, as if the memory of that last conversation was too much to bear. "But then we lost contact. Just like that. One minute, everything was fine, and the next… nothing. No signal, no word. Just… silence."

Esteban leaned forward, his brow furrowing in concern. "And you haven’t heard anything since? No communication from Soldier Boy or anyone else on the mission?"

Countess shook her head, her expression one of helplessness, an emotion she was clearly unaccustomed to. "Nothing. It’s like they vanished into thin air. The government’s been tight-lipped, as always. They’re saying it’s classified, that they’re ‘looking into it,’ but I know what that means. They think he’s dead. They just don’t want to say it."

The words hung in the air, heavy and ominous. Esteban could feel the tension in the room rising, the weight of the world’s expectations pressing down on this woman who had spent her life fighting battles that most people couldn’t even imagine. And now she was fighting a battle of a different kind—one that she had no idea how to win.

"What does this mean for you, Countess?" he asked after a long moment, his voice soft with understanding. "For the team? For the world?"

Countess looked at him, her eyes filled with a deep, abiding sorrow. "I don’t know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I really don’t know. Soldier Boy was… he was the heart of the team. The backbone. Without him… I don’t know how we go on."

The room fell silent again, the weight of her words sinking in. Outside, the crowd had grown larger, their faces pressed against the glass, their eyes wide with fear and fascination. They had come to see a superhero, but what they were witnessing was something far more profound—a woman laid bare, stripped of the armor that had always protected her, struggling to make sense of a world that no longer made sense.

Esteban knew that he had to tread carefully now. He could see how close she was to the edge, how fragile her composure had become. But he also knew that the world was watching, waiting for answers, for some kind of closure. He took a deep breath, choosing his next words with care.

"Countess," he began gently, "the world has always looked to people like you and Soldier Boy for strength, for hope. In times of crisis, you’ve been the ones to lead us, to show us that even the darkest times can be overcome. What would you say to those who are watching right now? To those who are afraid?"

Countess stared at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if looking for something—perhaps a lifeline, perhaps an escape. When she spoke, her voice was stronger, more certain, as if she had found some small reserve of the strength that had always defined her.

"I’d say that fear is a natural response to the unknown," she said slowly, the words coming out measured and deliberate. "But fear can’t be the end of the story. Soldier Boy… he wouldn’t want us to give up, to let fear consume us. He’d want us to fight, to keep going, no matter how hopeless it seems."

Her voice grew steadier as she spoke, the words seemingly giving her strength. "I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t know if Soldier Boy is… if he’s really gone. But I do know that he wouldn’t want us to stop fighting. He’d want us to keep pushing forward, to keep believing that there’s a way out of this, even if we can’t see it right now."

Esteban nodded, feeling a sense of respect for this woman who, despite everything, was still finding a way to inspire hope. "Thank you, Countess," he said quietly. "I know that wasn’t easy."

Countess managed a small, tight smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Nothing about this is easy," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it’s what we have to do."

As the interview drew to a close, Esteban could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her body seemed to sag with the weight of it all. He knew that the moment the cameras stopped rolling, she would retreat back into the private hell she was living, the grief and uncertainty gnawing away at her resolve.

"Do you think he could still be out there?" Esteban asked, unable to resist the question that had been on his mind since the beginning of the interview. "Do you think Soldier Boy could still be alive?"

Countess looked at him, her eyes filled with a quiet desperation. "I have to believe he is," she said softly, the words laced with a fragile hope. "Because if he’s not… I don’t know how we move on from this."

The camera panned out, capturing the room in its entirety—the small, stark studio, the gathering crowd outside, and the lone figure of Crimson Countess, sitting in the harsh light, her face a mask of controlled despair. The broadcast would soon be over, but the impact of her words would linger long after the screen went dark.

NOW:

“Whatever you’re experiencing, it’s not real.” Your shrink - you still didn’t know whether her name was Emily or Earhart - assured you, but you knew better. “Vought only wants to help you get better.”

“They’ve been so called helping me for forty fucking years.” You gritted out, your fingers gripping the chair you were sitting on. The maroon chair, with some fugly beige cushions in this fugly beige room. You hated it.

Fuck all.

She sighed, leaning forward. “You exhibit signs of anger issues and PTSD. Vought is merely facilitating your recovery and return to glory.”

“They’re fucking with my head!” You burst out, standing up abruptly, surging forward and grabbing her throat, your eyes turning black, gleaming with wisps of purple. “Tell me the truth.”

Tell me the truth. It resonated through Eleanor’s head, and her eyes turned the same colour as yours, her jaw going slack as she stopped resisting.

“You’re not crazy.” She whispered, her eyes wide and unfocused. “You never were.”

You let her go, and her eyes returned back to normal, a shaky gasp escaping her lips. You bent forward, trapping her between yourself and the chair.

“You tell anyone what I just did, sweetie,” You warned lowly, “and I’ll snap your neck by the time I next come in here.”

“Of course.” She whispered, her voice cracking.

You sat back down on the armchair, cracking a smile as you examined the fear in her eyes. Good. “Shall we continue?”

They’d gotten into some weird shit.

“Is he always gonna be doing that?” Hughie whispered to Butcher, watching Ben crush some medicine and snort it like it was nothing. They’d broken him out of his cryogenic capsule, and it’s safe to say that he was an incredibly pissed off individual. Understandably so.

“Just let ‘im, it ain’t killing us.” Butcher replied under his breath, and then snapped into suave gent action when Ben cleared his throat and looked up. “Everythin’ alright, there, guv’nor?”

“Gotta add another name to my kill list.” He cleared his throat again, grunting distastefully.

“One more?” Hughie asked, eyes widening slightly, but he recovered. “Uh, w-who is that - the one you want to kill - who?”

Ben grunted again, snorting up more crushed pills. “Tricky bitch, she is. Superhero by the name of Psyke, she was my co-leader and fuck buddy. Real tricky to get past. She can create illusions that you’ll fall for if you’re a dumb piece’a shit, and if she gets her hands on you, game over.”

Butcher crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“One, she’s hot as fuck. And a great fuck.” Ben chuckled, reminiscing the days. “Second, she’ll just whisper a command and you’ll do it no questions asked.”

“No problem, guv.” Butcher smirked confidently, but Hughie raised his hand. “Put your hand the fuck down, we ain’t in school.”

“Cocksucker.” Ben snorted - not recreational drugs this time - drinking his beer. “What is it?”

“Psyke, she… she’s impossible to get to.” Hughie revealed, scrolling on his phone. “Apparently she had a psychotic outbreak after you were put in the freezer in ‘83. Vought’s holding her for rehabilitation and therapy. Has been for forty years.

Ben saw the picture of the old newspaper, the title blaring in his face. ‘Psyke in Rehab for Violent Behaviour’, but no explanation. It told him one thing— that you must have known something was wrong.

And Vought imprisoned you for it, the bastards.

There wasn’t a world in which Vought would imprison their darling, their golden girl. Not unless she went rogue.

“That means she’s deep in a Vought facility.” Butcher smirked, glancing between the two others. “We get the team together, launch an attack on the cunts holdin’ her, we can get her out quick an’ easy.”

Ben’s protective instincts over you flared up when he thought of what Vought could’ve done to you. “She gets out unharmed, y’hear?”

“Loud and clear, guv. Not a scratch.”

Oh, fuck. You could go for one of those at the moment.

You were left on the ground, on your back, trembling. Your brain felt like it’d been stretched and then left to rebound against all four walls of your brain, close to turning into mush had you not been fighting the drug injected into your system with everything you had.

“She’s resisting.” You heard one doctor mutter to another, just as searing, white hot pain made the corners of your vision turn black.

And then they shaped into the nightmare land, taking over your vision until it was half reality half illusion, messing with your perception until you weren’t sure which was actually happening.

You could see Nicaragua.

The blood, being distracted by a legion only to find Ben being subdued by Novichok.

Fighting off every member of Payback, making them turn on one another with nothing but a hand on their shoulder and a persuasive whisper.

Getting hit with a cheap shot from behind, and both yours and Ben’s bodies were dragged across the dirt.

Only difference was that you were barely awake. Awake enough to see his unconscious face as they took him away and put him God knows where.

“Have we tried giving her a stronger dose?” A male doctor replied, the corners of your vision blinking from reality, back to nightmare, reality, nightmare, reality- nightmare—

Keys jangled. “We give her a stronger dose and she’ll go up in a stroke. Homelander wants her alive.”

“I don’t understand why, she’s a walking weapon.”

“Talking like I’m not there.” You rasped out, like you hadn’t spoken in a hundred years. A rough chuckle left your mouth as you shakily pushed yourself up, the pounding in your head still there but finding it easier to regain muscle control. “Ballsy move, especially for a couple of dickless scientists.”

You pointed at the lady. “You’re already dickless, so you don’t count.”

The two doctors looked between each other, getting more and more anxious as you found your feet, staggering towards them, almost shuffling, footsteps uneven.

“Uh, what are you-” They froze when you clapped your hands on their shoulders, leaning forward so you were speaking in their ears, your iris turning into gleaming purple mixed with black.

“Kill each other.” You whispered, and the command resonated. The urge to pick up their pens and go postal overtaking them.

Kill each other.

Kill each other.

It went through their mind, body, soul. Clipboards flattering to the floor as their irises turned black and swirled with purple, turning to each other slowly. Teeth gritting, veins popping as the two doctors looked into each other’s eyes with pure hatred and a chuckle left your lips as you watched them click their pens and go straight for the jugular.

Over and over again.

“Sleep tight, bitches.” You muttered in satisfaction just as armed Vought soldiers burst in, two forcing you to your knees while two others went to check the tangled, lifeless bodies of the two doctors running rampant.

And you did that.

It felt amazing.

1980:

Mmh, fuck.

“Bet you’re so wet for me, pretty thing.” Ben chuckled against your lips as you stumbled back into the his hotel room, the rapid undoing of clothes not privy to the two of you as the curtains were wide open. Everyone in the street below could see the filthy way yours and Ben’s lips joined together over and over again, eyes closed but hands familiar with where they needed to go to make the other moan.

Ben separated from you to go and close the curtains, leaving the taste of whiskey on your tongue, still in his slacks from the press conference while he’d ridden you of everything but that delicious fucking lace you’d worn under your dress.

He’d been eyeing you all day in that thing, and all he thought about was having it off.

“Didn’t have enough after coming like a faucet on my cock this morning, hm?” He added, toeing his shoes off and working on his belt, his lips descending to your neck and leaving hot trails of kisses and rough sucks. “Nah, you didn’t.”

Your hands slid up his chest, and then one went down to palm him over his slacks, which had the vein in his neck popping, jaw tensing as his head fell back for a quick second.

Then he took control of the situation, tearing your panties off and throwing you onto the bed, the bra going with it as he sank two thick fingers knuckle deep in your pussy.

“Shit-” You gasped, arching off the bed, your legs widening instinctively as he set a brutally delicious pace, leaning forward to lick and suck at your nipple, biting and tugging at it with his teeth at his fancy.

Ben only laughed, manoeuvring your body how he wanted, rocking your hips in time with his fingers, hearing your moans, seeing your eyes roll back, knowing you were close-

NOW:

“TMI.” Hughie groaned, putting his hand out and shaking his head. “Really, dude. Ew.”

Ben frowned. “TMI- the fuck does that mean?” He thought for a second, then waved Hughie off. “Eh, I don’t give two shits.” Then he chuckled at the memory, nodding and hitching his shield higher on his arm. “Psyke, man. Best fuck you could ask for. She’d ride me like a damn champ, knows how to suck you off too. Had a mouth like a goddamn vacuum-”

“As much as I want to hear about your old buddy’s jerkin’ off talents, guv,” Butcher cut in with a wave of his hands as they walked, “we have half an hour to get in an’ out.”

“We’ll get her.” Ben assured, finding a Vought guard and slamming his shield into their face, successfully breaking their nose and making them drop, crumpling like a wet sheet of paper.

“Fuck you.” He added, sneering at the unconscious guard before trudging further through the halls, Hughie and Butcher keeping up right as the alarms blared red.

The moment they did, you - in your cell - smirked, finding an opportunity. The guards were about to restrain you, but you used their grip on your arms to knock them into each other, rolling out of the way and grabbing their handgun, shooting them both once each in the head before anyone could react.

You barely dodged a bullet (literally), jumping and spinning, whipping your leg around so your heel could connect with the side of one’s head, snapping it sideways and sweeping another guard’s legs out from under them, grabbing their head and snapping their neck.

All the guards were down, so you got up, looking at the massacre - the art - you’d created with a small smile on your face and an approving nod.

“Cocksuckers.” You muttered under your breath before shaking your head, clearing the corners of your vision of Nicaragua, induced by whatever shit they put into your system. Wasn’t the good shit either, it was bad shit.

You really needed a smoke round about now.

But now wasn’t the time, so you picked up the guard’s assault rifle and pocketed a few rounds, making your way through the clinically white halls with it held up, popping a few rounds through the heads of the guards you met.

Eventually, of course, all your rounds were depleted soon enough, and you resorted to using your hands (and not in the sexy way), Nicaragua threatening to take over your vision

“You can check that way, guv, she might be there.” A voice with an accent said gruffly, and when you looked around the corner, you saw a boot disappearing down a side corridor, and two other guys. You stepped up behind the smaller one, your bare feet silent on the cold floor.

With a sharp movement, you grabbed the smaller one’s shoulders, yanking him against you as your powers activated again, ready to strike. “Move a muscle and I tell this one to dislocate his own shoulder. Maybe break a leg.”

“What the fuck- I don’t wanna break a leg!” The dude held to you squeaked to the taller guy, who turned around, taking one look at you and smirking.

“Guv, we found ‘er!” He yelled, and a large red and brown boot stepped out, connected to a much larger body that you knew all too well. Only difference was that his hair was darker and he had a trimmed beard. Oh, you’d have fun with that - you mused, right as a grin spread on your face.

“Son of a bitch.”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[taylortruther]

also re: the racial component of TS/fan base, if you haven't you should watch Alex Avila's video on Taylor Swift, I think it was really well done

this is SO good. thank you SO much for this recommendation.

i really liked how avila noted how masterfully taylor blends authenticity and social normativity - "the reason taylor swift seems so authentic to young girls is because she's conforming to an image [of white patriarchal girlhood] that young women internalized from a young age." similarly, the popular feminism of 2014 (when 1989 was released) was flimsy and did not challenge patriarchal norms, and we see how she made feminism part of 1989's branding.

and he asks a question i often pose: is there anything subversive in idolizing the most popular cultural object? does poptimism (the critique of pop music as a serious form of art) simply reinforce existing power structures??

taylor swift and whiteness

understanding how someone becomes a legend and icon means understanding how they challenge, but also reinforce, the biases in society, which includes race, class, gender, and so forth. and "there IS something deeply white about [taylor's] image" (1:18:33). her image is cultural whiteness! taylor swift's relatability (which is and has always been part of her brand), her social capital, her social normativity, is directly tied to the neoliberal racial philosophy that, instead of calling whiteness superior, establishes whiteness as the norm (1:21:23).

millennials want celebrities to be morally pure. this is a mistake.

also - LOVE that he points out that millennials don't judge female celebrities by their sexuality or modesty anymore, but instead they judge based on political awareness, which is just another way of continuing the "patriarchal history of regulating narratives around women's actions" (1:42:39). avila focuses specifically on millennials here, cautioning us not to consider this a a sign of true political engagement from millennials. as he points out, systems of oppression adapt to our ever-changing culture. when we try to 'cancel' or 'hold a celebrity accountable' for their ideologies or missteps, sometimes it's because they're truly terrible, and other times it's because we hold women to "unrealistic standards of purity." ie, this isn't necessarily real political engagement, it is just another example of judging women. often it's both (pointing out missteps, and also being sexist.)

whiteness again

avila goes on to discuss how white women have long been held up as virtuous, moral centers of american families - and while this is a racist and sexist practice, given that woc aren't seen as virtuous, it also lays the foundation for why white women in particular dominate conversations about politics in the public sphere. it is an Event every time a white celebrity frames their political awakening as a personal, spiritual journey of self-realization. yes, this act is important, because women must learn about their own oppression, and talk about it, in order to educate others.

but when taylor (or any other famous white woman) frames politics solely through the personal, it relieves her of the obligation to critique systemic issues. her own political awakening is all that matters - she must prove her own political purity (instead of sexual purity, as before.) there is a deep problem in society demanding this, rather than larger systemic change, but we'll get to that later.

this personal political purity awakening earns her a lot of goodwill, but her resistance ends with herself. and this is a pattern that we see happen all the time, in what robin james calls "neoliberal resistance discourses" in pop: someone is damaged by oppression (sexism), she overcomes it brilliantly with an awakening (miss americana/lover/denouncing trump era), and she absorbs this goodwill into her brand. these individual damages and awakenings supposedly symbolize society's own awakening and resilience(!). (1:52:48)

🚨 some readers might be getting tired/annoyed at this; i can hear y'all saying "well, what do you even WANT from her omg!!!" just stay with me here. 🚨

she holds a mirror up to society, tho

what avila so brilliantly points out is that... this cycle of damages and resilience isn't helpful. it goes nowhere! and we are all at the mercy of the same patterns as taylor. it's not about taylor, it's about us, and how capitalism commodifies everything, including social movements! including personal 'goodness'! a neoliberal system wants individuals to care about their individual choices and looking like good individuals; it encourages the use of "purity tests" and "commodified algorithmic social movements" to discourage challenges to systemic issues (reminds me of the celebrity blackout situation earlier this year, and conversations we have about politics, well, daily on here.) and the pattern of a person failing politically as an individual is part of this machine. if we're too busy policing individuals for their purity, we won't ever organize together for shared material goals. unfortunately, unlike taylor swift, most of us are not extremely powerful, wealthy, and influential as individuals. she does have more power than us in this regard.

taylor as cultural hegemony

anyway, avila goes on to talk about how taylor had this musical renaissance with folklore, and became more honest about her masterminding her own career in midnights. she has shown herself not just to be a musical chameleon, but a cultural one as well, positioning herself as white teenage purity when the culture called for it (circa 2008-2010), neoliberal pop feminism (1989 -> lover), pandemic escapism (folkmore) - and the culture has become part of her brand, part of her music. music that is already heavily wrapped up in her own life. she is the brand she is the culture. of course she put the work in, and not just anyone could do this. but imo, her whiteness (which, again, gives her this "default" "neutral" background to work with) is part of this success. "sure, she's challenged the institution but all in the effort to become the new face of musical hegemony" (2:06:25.) she challenges systems to assimilate into them, or create them in a way that requires assimilation.

of course, this is all based on her REAL experiences, her REAL life. she is living her own life, and also living it in this metacognitive way that mirrors culture.

but we don't have to hate taylor, actually!

and MOST interestingly, avila closes out by suggesting: it's not actually super healthy to always be suspicious and critical of art (2:17:24.) yes, there is a long political history of "paranoid reading," of critique based on marx, freud, and nietzsche's philosophies. it is the basis of A LOT of our frameworks for thinking about the world, including art.

as i've said before, it's interesting to discuss taylor or celebrities because they hold a mirror up to society. but we can't just relentlessly critique ourselves - after all, the critique is supposed to protect us from being bad! the critique is what keeps us good! and it's why we project so much onto them (the celebrities, or "bad" people.)

this video dove into a term that may be new to a lot of people (i only learned of it recently) - "reparative reading." rather than relentlessly critique art or what-have-you, engage with it in ways that is "affirmative, creative, and caring." this does not mean you toss out critical readings - reparative readings can coexist, and give us hope, optimism, feelings of beauty/appreciation, and affirmation.

for example, it's why -while i enjoy critiquing taylor (or what she Represents) - i am also here to just... have fun. i don't want to linger 24/7 on her emissions, or what she hasn't done, or who she's friends with. it's also why, as a fan of color, i hate that she is often dismissed and minimized to "white musician making music for white women." i find affirmation in a lot of her music, regardless of her race; i find optimism and hope in the way women so deeply relate to her, and how queer fans (also like myself) relate to her! (which avila points out too 2:21:00.) it's why i stopped debunking stuff, because queerness - like any other aspect of the fandom - is such a critical, significant part of why her music is beloved. it's so important for people to recognize that she is more than just 'music for straight white heterosexual cisgender women.'

[justevelynnnn]

hiii! i was wondering if you could do bunny!reader and Connie doing something maybe a bit wholesome like maybe grocery shopping? 😭😭

Hellooooooo! My first request 😭😭! Ok so, basically for this is had to do a bit of research because I never heard of the bunny!reader thing so idk y my mind went to like and actual half human, half bunny situation but hopefully I got it right let me knowwwww!

You hopped right into my heart

Warnings: none

Content: just fluff 👍🏾

- People would describe you as a bunny a lot of the time

- You were shy, curious, easily startled…

- So how did someone like you, end up with some on like him?

- You went with your friend one day to the mall and that’s when he saw you

- You wore a whole white outfit that contrasted well with your darker skin. It was simple really, a white crop top and a short lacy skirt, white stockings and some white flats.

- He just had to have you

- Luckily for him your friend saw him and pointed him out to you as he walked over

- You were nervous at first and tried to hide behind her but she reassured you it was fine and stepped out the way

- He was fine enough so you did end up giving him your number and the rest was history

- Connie Springer was the town’s bad boy. He wore ripped jeans and buzz cut his hair a lot and messed around in school all the way up until graduation

- You however, while jumpy and sometimes silly when comfortable, was an exceptional student who was often quiet and to herself

- You went to college but he didn’t. He was wild and edgy and you were tame and soft

- So why did you chose him?

- Well it’s like they say, opposites attract!

- You calmed Connie down, he pulled you out your shell

- You guys first date was going on a picnic.

- Connie chose the perfect day, it was sunny but not too hot with a nice breeze. He knew you liked vegetables so he brought some ingredients to make a salad which you thought was sweet 🤍

- He loved your softness and almost purity

- After a while you guys would go grocery shopping

- He would take care of your stuff first so berries, lettuce and carrots and other healthy things would fill the basket

- Connie goes to the gym so he knows about being healthy but he would also get things like potion powder and eggs

- He would always pay and push the basket no matter what you said and he would put all the bags in the trunk too.

- Then you guys would drive around and listen to music. He listened to a lot of rap and a bit of rock even but you didn’t.

- “Some of these lyrics are so….violent..” You’d say and Connie would just laugh.

- You listened to softer music and pop and you even introduced him to Taylor Swift

- When the town saw you with the famous “bad boy” there were mixed reactions. Some people were worried you’d become like him and some were hoping he’d become more like you..

- Eventually everyone got used to it and now you guys were the walking definition of couple goals

- Connie would eventually nickname you his bunny because of how you reminded him of them so often with how you act

- You absolutely loved it, he really made your heart melt

- “Man, when I saw you at the mall that day, it’s like you hopped right into my heart..” He said on you guys one year anniversary of being together.

- You didn’t do much other than smile and peck him on his cheek :)

I liked this idea a lot 😭👍🏾 I hope it’s what you wanted or that I got it right at least

[jflemings]

— birthday wishes

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: you make sure jessie has a good day for her first birthday in portland

warnings: a lil suggestive & not edited

a/n: a lil smth smth for the birthday girl (i don’t rlly like this ending but fuck it we ball)

contrary to popular belief, jessie actually really liked celebrating her birthday. she liked that her mum always baked her a cake when she was growing up, she liked that you made the effort to always give her flowers and she liked it when her and her sister designated a time to facetime. the thing that she liked most of all though, was being able to have all her favourite people in one place,

this year was different though. jessie’s mood had seemed to get deplete the closer her birthday got. she had been adjusting to the move well enough but she didn’t exactly have the time to get really settled before she was off win team canada for the gold cup, the semi final loss leaving her more restless then when she left.

still, you made the effort to at least attempt to make this birthday feel somewhat normal. you bought her a bouquet of pink tulips and baby’s breath from a florist you spotted one afternoon on your way home from work, a lego flower bouquet set that the two of you wanted to build together and a proper, high quality photo album so that all of her favourite photos she’s taken can be in one place.

you sneak back into your shared bedroom with her flowers in one hand and coffee in the other, placing them down on a flipped cardboard box that your girlfriend had been using as a makeshift bedside table, before pouncing on her. you practically jump onto her back and lay yourself down flat on top of her, placing your head on her shoulder as she awoke.

jessie, in all her sleepy-faced-bedheaded glory, flashes you a smile as you trace patterns on her back through her sleep shirt.

“good morning birthday girl” you whisper quietly to her “how does twenty six feel?”

“not any different than twenty five” she rasps out whilst beginning to roll over onto her back. you slide off her effortlessly before she pulls you into her, one arm wrapping around your shoulders whilst the other hoists you onto her chest. she wraps both arms around you protectively and tightly, leaning her head on your own as she lets out a content sigh.

you reach over her as best you can and grab the bouquet “your birthday flowers madam”

jessie gives you one of her famous soft smiles “thank you, they’re beautiful” she praises gratefully, sniffing them before taking them from you and placing them on the ground, grabbing your torso so she can guide you up the front of her body, kissing you sweetly and slowly.

you pull away from her and lift your arms so that they’re on either side of her head “only the best for my girl” you say before taking advantage of the position your arms are in and pulling yourself up so you’re straddling jessie’s hips.

“as much as i would love to lay around with you all morning, you” you emphasise by poking a finger into the canadian’s chest “have training and then lunch with the girls, and i have work that needs to be done.”

jessie rolls her eyes and trails her hands up your sides “just five more minutes” she exhales “i don’t feel like getting up yet”

you swing your leg over jessie and roll onto your side of the mattress, sitting and then standing in one swift motion. you then walk to the end of the bed frame-less mattress and grip the bottom of the duvet that jessie is comfortably under “if i let you lay here for five more minutes then i’m going to feel the need to lay down with you, which will then turn into morning sex, which means that when janine comes to get you in about an hour not only will she be interrupting us but she’ll also be late because you won’t be ready” you explain pointedly, finally ripping the blanket off your girlfriend.

jessie shivers slightly at the sudden loss of warmth before sitting herself up on her elbows and forearms “i’ll be quick, promise” she smirks amused, raising her eyebrows in an almost challenging way.

you’re almost half convinced, her position on the bed paired with the confident smirk she doesn’t wear often slowly drawing you in. you tilt your head in faux thought, slowly leaning down and propping your knee up near her feet, planting your hands flat on either side of her legs. you hover for a moment and open your mouth to say something before a blaring alarm sounds off through the room.

jessie rolls her eyes and picks her phone up, quickly turning the alarm off and tossing it to the side. by the time she’s done that you’re up and halfway out the door.

“y/n” she draws out frustratedly “five minutes!”

“your coffee is going cold jess”

——

jess huffs as janine pulls up to the curb in front of the home she shares with you. lunch had gone longer than expected and although she appreciated the fact that the team celebrated her birthday with her, she had begun to miss her ex teammates even more.

“you tired jeffery?” janine muses “wouldn’t wanna be, y/n’s probably gonna keep you up all hours of the night”

“ooookay!” jessie hastily says as she reaches for the door handle “thanks for organising lunch, i had a really good time”

janine nods and smiles before reaching behind her seat and handing jessie a cobalt blue gift bag “this is from me and sinc” she says just as jessie opens her mouth to protest “and don’t say that we didn’t have to because we know! we just wanted to give you a little something”

jessie takes the bag off her teammate carefully, opening the door at the same time and awkwardly sliding out. she gathers her training bag, phone and gift bag before shooting janine a wide, genuine smile and shutting the car door. as the midfielder walks to her front door she notices the warm light peaking through the windows.

it’s not dark outside but the sun has started to set, so she finds it odd that you’ve already turned on the lamp in the front room. she thinks nothing of it as she opens the door and steps in sideways before kicking it shut, slightly cringing at the loud slam. when you don’t scold her for slamming the front door, like you had always done, she becomes puzzled.

magenta light that she hadn’t seen from outside bounces off the walls and the smell of sandalwood slowly invaded her senses as she begins to creep into the main living area. you’re still no where to be found and she’s about to call out for you when she stops herself, her jaw going slack and eyes going wide.

next to the window on the furthest wall hangs her canada and chelsea jerseys that she received for reaching one hundred games, underneath multiple framed photos and trinkets sit on top of the buffet, a birthday banner and balloon numbers two and six find themselves near by. the magenta light is coming from a lamp that you had at your place back in london and next to it sits jessie’s burning sandalwood candle, other bits of decor like potted plants, a ceramic mug with miscellaneous pens and pencils, unread books and small collectables have all found homes in her home. her home that wasn’t like this when she reluctantly got up this morning.

she hears the bathroom door open and watches you round the corner, a towel messily drying your hair as you hum to yourself. you haven’t seen her so she places her things down next to the kitchen table, slightly startling you.

you just about jump out of your skin when you hear the unknown noise, dropping the towel and placing a hand over your racing heart “jessie fleming! you scared the absolute shit out of me” you exclaim half out of breath “you could’ve announced yourself when you walked in”

you pull a ladybug patterned gift bag out from under the dining table as you walk past and place it in front of her, nodding in the direction of the bag “open it” you say giddily, practically bouncing on your toes as you watch her reach into the bag.

she pulls out a plain white faux leather photo album that’s bound by brown leather strings and the lego flower bouquet set that the two of you had said you’d wanted to build together once you got settled. she opens the photo album to reveal a photo that was taken of her, niamh and zećira on her birthday last year.

the three of them were dressed nicely and standing in your old kitchen before everyone went out for dinner. you had taken the picture on a cheap disposable you’d had for ages so the film was a bit discoloured and jess and niamh were both laughing at zećira’s expense after she’d almost tripped over her own two feet, but it was one of you favourite photos of the three of them.

jessie looks to you with tears in her eyes, and she watches your mouth quickly turns into a frown. you reach for her without a second thought, already thinking the worst “are you okay? did something happen?” you ask concerned, pulling her into you and wrapping your arms securely around her body.

“no i’m good” she mumbled weakly, sniffling slightly “you did all this today?”

you nod “did the bathroom as well, thought it might de stress you a little bit” you explain softly “why are you crying jess?”

jessie shakes her head and detaches herself from you “i’m just so tired” the canadian mumbles “and i just love you so much.”

you run your hands up and down her biceps “too tired for cake?” you ask cheekily before moving to the fridge. jessie watches you pull out a white frosted cake with small red hearts littering the surface, placing it down and allowing her to see 26th piped on with black icing. you reach into a drawer and pull out a brand new pack of colourful birthday candles, quickly sticking the red one in and lighting it.

“make a wish birthday girl” you say whilst pushing the cake almost directly under jessie’s nose.

she quirks a brow “what? no birthday song?”

you shrug “i figured janine would’ve had the whole team singing it at lunch, thought you’d be content with hearing it once”

the footballer nods in agreement and closes her eyes, blowing the candle out in one go and waving her hand to disperse the smoke. you tilt your head curiously, leaning your forearms on the dark wood of the dining table “you didn’t even make a wish!” you exclaim.

jessie rolls her eyes and sits down, patting her lap so that you can sit on her “i did make a wish, thank you very much.” she defends as you oblige happily and throw your arms around her neck. once situated you swipe your pointer finger through the frosting and holding it up to her mouth. she licks the icing off your finger and snakes her hand up your back to hold your neck, pulling you down to her level so she can kiss you.

the kiss is sweet but hard as she holds you delicately whilst swiping her tongue on your bottom lip. you smile and open your mouth, adjusting yourself on her lap so that your body is facing more towards her.

it feels like the two of you sit there making out for almost an eternity before jess pulls away to come up for air, her lips pink and slightly swollen “wanna know what i wished for?”

your lips ghost over hers “if you tell me then it won’t come true”

the hand that was holding your neck slides down to cradle the small of your back whilst jessie’s other hand runs over your thighs aimlessly. she shrugs and the same smug smirk that she wore this morning returns to her face “i’ll just show you then”

in the blink of an eye she’s hoisting you up and standing quickly before racing off in the direction of your bedroom. you giggle loudly at jessie’s sudden burst of energy and quickly become grateful that the two of you don’t have a bed frame when she pins you to the mattress.

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

Never Grow Up

Word count: 3.0K

Summary: Taylor's still going on tour despite having a teen kid and reader just wants to spend quality time with her but Taylor's too busy. Reader thought that Taylor would reschedule the tour dates around daughter's birthday until she saw the tour dates being released online. Reader got mad and that was her final straw so the relationship is fractured.

Warnings: angst, single mom, mention of abortion, hurt/comfort

Pairing: Taylor Swift X Daughter!Reader

First time writing for Taylor! Hope you like it💜

———

Being Taylor Swift’s Daughter had it’s own perks and flaws.

She had you in when she was 20, and your father has always been out of the picture. You never got to know him, never met him and never asked about him but as far as you knew, he wasn’t one of the famous Taylor’s exes, he was just a random guy your mother had fallen in love with. She never talked about him, not her, or her family and since the subject was apparently so delicate, not once did you ever dare ask. There weren’t any pictures in the house, not in photo albums… it seemed like everyone had tried deleting his existence.

However it’s not like you ever needed a father figure. Your family always made you feel loved, you had all the attentions you could ever ask for and you have always been happy, no matter where you were in the world. However the first years of your life weren’t easy for your mother. She was still very young herself, but at the same time she was supposed to be going on tours, concerts and make her fans happy, all while also having to take care of you. Thankfully, her mother was a big help in that too. She would help take care of you and watch you when Taylor was on concerts. She was busy, yes but she always, always made time for you, no matter where you were around the world, wether it be a couple days, and some times even a full week, depending on bow busy her schedule was.

Were you a fan of hers? Yes, of course you were. You have no reminiscence of when you were younger, buy ever since you turned 5 you had been going to every concert of hers. You would either stay in the backstage, or in the booth with your grandma, Andrea, with one of the best views in the stadium, and slowly people had started to acknowledge you too. Taylor had never publicly talked about you, buy everyone knew she had a daughter, and it was easy to know it was you, because you were identical, you were like Taylor’s mini-me, and also because of her song “Never Grow Up” which she wrote and published when you were just one year old. You knew every single one of her songs, you screamed each and every one of them while at times Andrea filmed you and posted it on her social, which is how Taylor’s fans found your social and start following you as well.

Going a bit back in time, when she took a break from music, you were just 7, you hoped to spend more and more time with her and you did, but to an extent. Her mental health wasn’t the best, and she was always busy writing/recording songs and getting ready for her next tours, so her time with you became less and less and less, to the point where you’d rarely get to spend time with her, however, you tried. 

During Covid you finally got to spend so much time with her, after her Lover Tour was canceled. That’s when you decided to follow in on her footsteps. You were 11 and you already knew how to play the guitar, but you wanted to learn how to play the piano as well. One night you were supposed to be sleeping but you couldn’t, so you went where you knew your mom would be. She was in the soundproof room playing the piano and humming, trying to get ideas for a new song. You stood there at the door, waiting for your mom to acknowledge you. That happened pretty soon. She turned around and saw you standing there, in your pjs as you were holding your favorite teddy bear. Taylor smiled brightly at you and beckoned you to walk over to her.

“Hey little one, why aren’t you asleep yet?” She asked in a low, soothing voice. “I can’t sleep” you said in a tired voice, rubbing your eyes as Taylor made you sit in her lap sideways, so that you were laying your head on her shoulder and she could look at you. She kissed your nose and cheeks and forehead, before moving some wild hair away from your face. “How about I sing to you?” She said with a smile, you looked up at her with your big, wide, sweet (e/c) eyes expectantly and she didn’t even need a reply before she started playing “Never Grow Up” on piano. That song is originally meant for a guitar but here she was, playing it on piano and singing it, turning it into a lullaby only for you to hear.

You were asleep in a matter of seconds, and even though Taylor noticed, she still continued singing until the song was over and then she picked you up and put you into her own bed, staying snuggled up to her for the night, feeling as safe as ever in your mother’s arms. “I love you little one” she whispered.

That was the last time your mother sang something to you.

The last time she cuddled you.

The last time she told you she loved you.

A few weeks after she started planning her Eras Tour. She needed everything ready in such a short matter of time, setlist, choreographies, stage shape and instruments, transitions, lights and all the stuff regarding a regular concert. Not a day went by without her on the phone, or working on her laptop, or in studios either dancing or singing. It was moments like this where you wished you had a father figure. Not even the holidays you two spent together anymore. It was like she had completely forgotten about you, it was like you were just one random person in her house she had to cook for.

Two years later, On another identical night of your mother working, you decided to disturb her, just this once. “Hey mom” you said, walking over and sitting next to her on the couch. She was leaning forwards to the table where her laptop was placed. However, she didn’t reply to you. “Mom?” You asked again. You heard her sigh as she gave you an answer, not taking her eyes off the screen. “Yes, sweetie?” She asked, “Can we watch a movie tonight? Maybe we can order McDonalds and watch something?” You said as you leaned in closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder. “(Y/N) I can’t, I’m busy” she said and for a moment you were quiet as you looked towards the screen of her laptop, you could see she was scheduling the dates for the concert. You just hoped she would have a free day on your fourteenth birthday, like she promised.

“Oh come on, it’s just a movie, only for tonight. Please?” You pouted and wrapped your arms around her, hoping this might convince her. “I said in busy. Tour starts soon and I still need to figure out a few dates” she said and you groaned. “Please mom, we haven’t cuddled in a while-“ she interrupted you by removing your arms around herself. “I said no, (Y/N)!” She said, raising her voice which made you look at her with wide eyes, and kind of in shock. She never raised her voice at you until now. “God these days you’re so bothering, just go sleep!” You knew she didn’t mean it, but in this moment you couldn’t help but be hurt at her words. She couldn’t even be bothered to look at you when you got up and ran to your bedroom, locking yourself in as you cried into the pillow.

That was the last time you asked your mother to cuddle you.

From that day on, you barely talked to her. Not that you even needed to, either way. She was still always on the phone. The only differences where the fact that you’d go to your room immediately after lunch, and not stay and watch TV with her, and you’d go to Andrea’s place all day. She noticed you were sadder than usual. She noticed that you were more cuddly with her than usual. She also noticed you were quieter. When she asked if you were okay, you shrugged and said you were, And she also asked Taylor, who replied telling her that nothing was different, and most likely you were just acting up. It was weird to you, how your mother didn’t realize that she was neglecting you and your grandma had realized that just seeing you a couple days.

You ended up telling Andrea what was happening, and she tried to reassure you, saying that she was just nervous for the whole eras tour thing, and when it started things would become easier… but you weren’t sure of that.

A couple weeks later, what you feared became true. You were in your room when your mom made a post on instagram announcing the Eras Tour dates and you scanned through it, until you read it. “KC night 1 7/7/23”. Your birthday. She was having a concert on your birthday. You took your phone and rushed to the living room, where your mom was on the phone with her publicist, Tree. “Mom, seriously??” You asked her, not caring if she was on the phone or not. You heard her sigh “Tree, wait a second” she said and put the phone on mute, looking at me. “What is it?” She asked and you rolled your eyes. “You put a concert date on my birthday” you said and she sighed again. “Can we not do this now? This is important-“ you interrupted her again. “More important than your daughter?” You talked back.

Taylor was silent for a while, before excusing herself with Tree and ending the call, and you repeated what you said. “You put a concert date on my birthday” she nodded, looking confused “yeah, and?” You shook your head. “You had promised me you’d have the day free so you could spend it with me! It’s been a long time since we last had a day together, just you and me…” you looked down, but she didn’t seem to be bothered. “We’ll spend some time together after the concert like we already did.” She looked away from you, eyes back on her phone. “But that’s not what you promised!” You said and raised your voice, making her look at you. “(Y/N), right now, tour’s more important-“ you interrupted her, “then why did you have me?” She looked up back at you, looking more confused than ever.

“Huh?” She asked and only now did she notice that you had tears in your eyes. “Why did you have me if tours are more important than me?” At that, Taylor got up and walked over to you, eyes full of worry and remorse, maybe. “The fact that I’m now busy with tour doesn’t mean that I love you any less” she said and knelt down in front of you. “But you don’t show it! You don’t show that you love me…” You said and she furrowed her brows, even more confused. A couple tears leaving your eyes. “do you remember when was the last time we celebrated my birthday together?” You asked her and saw how she shook her head, thinking of a reply. “It was 6 years ago. I was 8, mom” you said “it was 2017, remember what period it was?” Once again, she didn’t reply, but you both knew what period it was. “When was the last time you told me you loved? I don’t remember it” you didn’t remember it, but Taylor did. You had fallen asleep in her lap and she had just stopped singing you “Never grow up.” She stood up and sighed, watching you cry but she didn’t feel like apologizing would be enough.

“If you knew you weren’t going to have time for me, you could have aborted me” your voice broke as you were saying this, and you rushed back into your bedroom, not knowing that in that precise moment, your mother was bawling her eyes out too. She wanted to spend more time with you, she really did, but at the same rime, she really didn’t have time.

The day of your birthday, you wouldn’t be seeing your mother until the concert. You woke up to no text from her, which made tears well up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away and went on with your day. Andrea had gifted you a necklace with a dream catcher, which you really liked, but you would have needed no gift if only you could spend your day with your mother, but by now you had given up on that occasion.

The concert went by normally, like any other, and you had spent it in the booth with Andrea, smiling whenever people asked pictures of you as well and exchanging friendship bracelets with them, like grandma had showed you. Soon it was the moment of the surprise songs and you were expecting her to take her guitar, but she didn’t.

She sat at her piano, and started talking. “Well, welcome to the surprise songs” she started and everyone clapped their hands, screaming in joy and adoration. There was a reason behind every surprise song she chose for every night and you were curious as to what tonight’s reasons would be. “On normal occasions I would be playing this song on guitar, but this isn’t a normal occasion” she smiled at what she was about to say, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Was she talking about your birthday? “As I’m pretty sure all of you know, I have a daughter, her name’s (Y/N)” everyone began cheering even more. Yes, she was talking about your birthday. “I have never talked publicly about her, but tonight’s her birthday, so I wanted to surprise her. She’s here tonight, and she’s in that booth over there with my mom” she pointed over to you with a smile, and everyone cheered again.

“It’s been a rough period for both of us. I’ve been very busy with tour, and she’s been wanting to spend more time with me and I feel like a very bad mother for not being able to give her what she wants, and apologizing doesn’t really work all the time, she’s stubborn as hell” the crowd laughed and you couldn’t help but smile at her words and you leaned into Andrea, who gave you a side hug. “Well anyway as I was saying, this is a very special occasion as it’s her birthday so I’ll play this song on piano instead of guitar, and I would like you all to look at the screen behind me as I play this song. Happy birthday little one, this is for you”

With that, Taylor started playing “Never Grow Up”, the song she wrote about you, for you.

Your little hand’s wrapped around my finger and it’s so quiet in the world tonight Your little eyelids flutter ‘cause your dreamin’ So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

A video started playing on the huge screen behind her. Photos and videos of you as a child with her, both so young and happy. Taylor was smiling brightly and you laughed whenever you were around her and her family, now you understood more the words:

To you everything’s funny you got nothing to regret, I’d give all I have honey if you could stay like that

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up Just stay this little Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up It could stay this simple I won't let nobody hurt you Won't let no one break your heart And no one will desert you Just try to never grow up Never grow up

You started tearing up more with the chorus as you sang along, and behind her more videos of the both of you were being played. No matter where or how Taylor was in life, she always loved you, every day more than the other. A side screen showed her as she was playing this song in this very moment, tears leaving her eyes and more forming in them. As the song came to an end, she spoke again. “Happy birthday babygirl, mama loves you so so much” she said and sniffled, wiping her tears. The crowd was louder than ever, and like other times she stopped to take it all in.

“Can I go to her?” You asked Grandma and she nodded, explaining that she had anticipated this would happen and already had a bodyguard ready and waiting for you. He quickly took you backstage and showed you the way up to the stage, even if you knew it already.

The stage doors opened to reveal you, and everyone cheered even louder as you started running your way to the front of the stage, where your mom was. Taylor turned around to look at you, smiling brightly as she got up and made her way towards you, arms opened for you to get into a tight, warm embrace. When you were finally in her arms, you both cried a bit more as you placed your head on her chest, and her head was right on top of yours. When you pulled back she took her in-ear monitors off, cupped your cheeks, looked at you and said “I love you so so so much, please never forget that”

“I love you too mom” you said almost in between sobs. She kissed your forehead and pulled you into another, tight hug.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

A Love Worth Fighting For

Bodyguard!Lando Norris x Fem!Actress!Reader

CHAPTERS 3, 4 & 5

Genre: Forbidden Bodyguard to Lover

Warnings: Smut (Not yet), This is (MY VERSION of) a Slow Burn story!

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

Chapter 3: Lando

From the moment I was assigned to protect Y/N L/N, I knew this job would be different. She wasn't just any client. She was one of the most famous actresses in the world, a superstar known for her roles in the Avengers movies and her solo Marvel films. But beyond the glitz and glamour, she was also a target. There had been multiple kidnapping attempts, and it was my job to ensure her safety at all times.

When I first met her, I was struck by her beauty and poise. She was everything I expected and more. But as the days turned into weeks, I began to see the real Y/N – the woman behind the fame. She was kind, compassionate, and surprisingly down-to-earth. And despite the walls she had built around herself, I could see glimpses of vulnerability that made me want to protect her even more.

But no matter how strong my feelings grew, I had to remind myself of my duty. My job was to keep her safe, not to get involved. And as long as I was her bodyguard, I had to maintain a professional distance, no matter how difficult it became.

Chapter 4: Lando

Y/N had a close-knit circle of friends, and one of her best friends was Daniel Ricciardo, a driver for Red Bull Racing. When she told me she wanted to attend one of his races, I knew it would be a logistical nightmare. But I also knew how important it was to her, so I did everything in my power to make it happen.

The day of the race was hectic, to say the least. Security was tight, and the crowds were massive. But Y/N was in her element, cheering for Daniel and mingling with other celebrities. I stayed close, my eyes constantly scanning the crowd for any potential threats.

As the race ended and we made our way back to the car, I couldn't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes. She was genuinely happy, and it was a sight that warmed my heart. But as we drove back to the mansion, I couldn't shake the feeling that this happiness was fleeting. The dangers that came with her fame were never far away, and it was my job to ensure she stayed safe.

That evening, as we were leaving things took a turn for the worse. A group of men, clearly intoxicated, approached us with aggressive intentions. They recognized Y/N and started hurling insults, their behavior quickly escalating.

I stepped in front of her, my body tense and ready to defend her at any cost. "Stay behind me," I instructed, my voice firm.

The men continued to advance, their intentions clear. But I wasn't about to let them get any closer. With a few swift moves, I managed to subdue them, ensuring Y/N's safety.

As the police arrived and took the men away, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. This was exactly why I needed to be by her side at all times. The world was full of dangers, and I couldn't let anything happen to her.

Chapter 5: Y/N

The next few days passed in a blur of interviews, photo ops, and public appearances. Lando was always by my side, his presence a comforting constant. Despite the hectic schedule, my mind kept drifting back to the confrontation at the race track. Lando's bravery, his unwavering dedication to my safety – it all made me see him in a new light.

We were back in my mansion, preparing for a quiet evening. I had invited Blake Lively, Ryan Reynolds, and Taylor Swift over for dinner. They were my closest friends, my support system, and I needed their company now more than ever.

As we sat around the dining table, laughing and sharing stories, I noticed Lando standing discreetly in the corner, his eyes never leaving me. It was like he was always on high alert, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

Taylor leaned over, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, Y/N, how's it going with your dashing bodyguard?"

I blushed, glancing at Lando. "It's...fine. He's very professional."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Professional, huh? Is that code for 'I have a crush on him'?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, it's not like that. He's just...different."

Ryan chimed in, a grin on his face. "Different how? Come on, spill the beans."

I sighed, feeling the weight of their curiosity. "He's always there, you know? Always looking out for me. It's...reassuring."

Blake's expression softened. "It sounds like he cares about you."

I glanced at Lando again, my heart skipping a beat. "Maybe. But he's made it clear that he's just doing his job."

Taylor placed a hand on my arm, her voice gentle. "Just be careful, Y/N. It's easy to confuse gratitude with something more."

I nodded, appreciating her concern, but deep down, I knew that my feelings for Lando were growing stronger with each passing day.

After my friends left, I found myself alone with Lando in the dimly lit living room. He was standing by the window, staring out into the night. I walked over, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Lando," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did at the race track. You saved me."

He turned to look at me, his eyes softening. "It's my job, Y/N. I would do it again in a heartbeat."

I took a deep breath, my heart racing. "But it's more than that, isn't it? I mean, you could have been hurt."

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

I stepped closer, my eyes searching his. "Why?"

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. "Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I should."

My breath caught in my throat. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment when he finally acknowledged what I had been feeling all along.

"Lando, I..." I began, but he held up a hand, stopping me.

"We can't," he said, his voice firm. "It would compromise my contract. And more importantly, it would put you in danger. My job is to protect you, not to be with you."

I felt a pang of disappointment, but I understood. He was right. Our relationship was complicated, and there were too many risks involved.

But as I looked into his eyes, I couldn't help but hope that one day, things might be different.

And with that thought lingering in my mind, I knew that this was just the beginning of a long, complicated journey. A journey that would test our resolve, our feelings, and ultimately, our fate.

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

Feedback and Suggestions are ALWAYS welcomed.

Taglist:

[rabnerd28]

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

[folkloreintime]

I was thinking if you could write an imagine where the reader uses a strap-on with Taylor, thankk uu

bigger than the whole sky

Taylor Swift x fem!reader smut

warnings: smut, 18+ only, strap-on, mommy kink, overstimulation

summary: Taylor fucks you with a strap-on.

requested: yes

word count: 1,261

You heard a key turn in the door and you instantly felt your heart soar. It had been a long and tedious day, all you wanted was to cuddle up with the person you loved the most in the world. The wildly famous pop star was known to many but to you she was just your girlfriend, Taylor, and that was enough.

She walked over to you with a big smile on her face, “Hi, baby.” she said, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You helped her with her bags and coat and asked “How was your day? I missed you so much.” She sighed and gave you a look, you instantly knew, she had a tough day and she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

“I just want to be here – with you.” Her blue eyes were fixed on yours as she leaned in and pressed your lips together in a kiss. Her lips moved over yours in tandem as you reached your hands in her fluffy blonde curls, trying to pull her closer. Her movements became more volatile and passionate as her tongue swiped over your bottom lip, anchoring to find solace in your mouth. Breathing quick and shallow, you pulled away to see her gaze transfixed on you, the smear of her red lipstick looked so inviting.

“I need to fuck you. Now.” She said darkly, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom. “Take off your clothes.” She ordered and you instantly obeyed. With shaky hands you began to take off each article of clothing. The cold air nipped at your skin but the thin sheen of sweat creeping up on your brow made the room reverberate with anticipation and wanting.

Taylor was rummaging around in a drawer, the curve of her back looked so tantalising, her hair sloped around the sides of her breasts and her long legs arched so perfectly. It made your insides weep and long for her touch. “Close your eyes and lay back for me, baby.” The tension was palpable as you waited for her to speak or touch you or just do anything to you.

You heard the creak of the bed and felt the presence of her warmth beside you. She stroked your hair and gave you a kiss on the forehead, it made you melt and a hot flush spread throughout your body. Suddenly, her lips were on yours again, looking for any patch of skin to bite, tease or nip at. Moaning, you reached out and found yourself running your hands over her smooth body. You ran them from her jaw to her collarbone and down the middle of her chest.

You grabbed one solid breast with your hand and in the other you pinched one of her nipples, taut and pink from the stiff air. She let out a gasp into your mouth and ground herself onto you. Immediately, you could feel the outline of her strap-on through her sweatpants, pushing down onto your naked thigh. You felt a jolt of electricity and an ache between your thighs. “Ugh, I love it when you wear the strap.” You groaned out, the pressure of her on top of you feeling so delicious.

“Mm, I love it too, baby. It’s all for you.” She trailed a finger down your midsection until she arrived just before your pubic bone. Lightly, she teasingly rubbed her fingers over your clit. You instantly moaned hoping your noises would push her to give you more pressure. But just as quickly, the feeling dissipated as she removed her fingers. She tilted your jaw up with her thumb and forced you to watch as she gave little kitten licks to her fingers, staring deeply at you. Watching her lick your wetness off herself sent you into overdrive, begging and pleading with her to be touched.

“Please, Mommy.” You whimpered, running your hands down her pants, pressing on her bulge. She threw her head back and breathed deeply, “Patience, baby.” She smirked. You felt her move between your legs and she pushed her sweatpants down slightly, not even bothering to remove them so just the strap was visible.

It was long and thick, it looked so striking against her perfect legs. It made you feel tingly and by now you were dripping with excitement. She held the length in her hand and tapped it on your clit in small movements. The pressure was absolutely delightful as you became a babbling mess underneath her. Despite your pleas, she continued teasing you, now rubbing the strap-on up and down your pussy, her eyes unwavering. The ridges felt heavenly against you as Taylor teased you.

Time felt fake and inconsequential as the only thing that mattered was you and her and the explosion of pleasure she was causing. “Are you sure, baby?” She asked, her chest moving up and down rapidly. “Yes, Mommy.” You replied just as her hands gripped on your waist. Suddenly, Taylor thrust into you. 

She started to move in and out, pushing in until she couldn’t anymore and then waiting before rapidly thrusting again. You felt so full, the movement felt like it could make you cum in less than a minute but you knew Taylor would tease you just the right amount. You watched her thigh muscles flex as the bed creaked and groaned. Overwhelmed, you covered your eyes with the back of your hand but Taylor roughly moved them off, splaying them over your mid section instead. 

Your moans were getting louder and louder which prompted her to speed up her movements. Your mind was unable to comprehend anything except the feel of her so when she leaned down and sucked on your neck it felt blissful. Everything felt hazy and the grunts you could hear from her were coaxing you on. You wrapped your arms around her neck, trying to hold her infinitely closer as her pace hit its fastest.

“Please! Mommy!” You whined as you felt yourself so close to the edge. Clumsily, she moved the tips of her fingers to your clit and rubbed it to placate you. The motions coupled with her intense embrace sent you into a climax. It felt like a million little stars over your vision as the jolts of pleasure rang throughout your entire body. Every little gasp and whimper edged Taylor on as even when you felt the aftershocks of your orgasm she didn’t stop.

She continued pushing in and out of you, using her hand to grab the slope of your breasts and biting sweet red marks all over you. The overstimulation made you feel gooey and quicker than before you felt another climax coming. The noises were obscene and you cried for Taylor as the hurricane of allure wrecked you. 

Her thrusts slowed and she slipped out of you, the only noises were both of you breathing heavily. She moved down so her head was between your legs and gave light kisses to your clit as you came down from your high. She clasped one hand in yours and her kisses to your clit became softer and softer until you were able to breathe properly.

When your mind felt clearer and you could actually think straight, you looked down to see her resting her head upon your thigh, looking up at you with a sweet smile. You pushed her fringe out of her face and lovingly ran your thumb over her bottom lip, knowing that after the day you had both had, this was exactly what you needed.

end.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Take it from a black trans femme who's autistic with a special interest in this genre:Indie means indipendent i.e not 'obscure white boys' or 'white girls only femininity'.It's an aesthetic and lifestyle too yes but one that requires being self-making,low-budjet or preferably both for the best experience speaking as someone who's learning to diy and has been for a while.That's why even though she's famous,Megan Thee Stallion is an indie artist since she's not signed to a record label and earned her success with hardwork and her beloved status by being an activist who enourages universal self-love and why a lot of popular games are still indie because they weren't made by companies and why Taylor Swift isn't because she's a violently hateful nepotism baby who actively uphoalds and spreads white supremacy and the only 'empowering' she's doing is giving power to white woman fragility and the racist men she dates and from research and looking for media to stimulate my spin,there's a lot more indie creators of color than white ones.There's a reason for that btw and there's also a reason why the indie scene is largely whitewashed and unwelcoming to poc despite being more sutible for us.If i say any more though i'll get called a gatekeeper from people who can't name a black female rapper except Meg herself and Nicki Midnaj