#tabloids being tabloids

[khruschevshoe]

You know, it's rather interesting to me that Taylor Swift's parasocial relationship with her fans is honestly more akin to a YouTuber than a writer's. When I scroll through her tag on tumblr/Twitter, it's far more regarding the connection to her personal life/relationship developments than the actual metaphors/fictional story she might be telling. Everything comes back to how her songs reflect back on her relationships with Joe/Matty/Travis/Jake/insert ex-boyfriend here. And what fascinates me about it is that even though she complains about it, she leans into that very perception because it strengthens the parasocial bond.

The marketing for TTPD so clearly being about Joe Alwyn and the songs to Matty Healy. The marketing/video for Red TV so CLEARLY being about Jake Gyllenhaal, with so many of the new lines in All Too Well specifically being digs at him (I'll get older but your lovers stay my age, casting an actor that looks like him for the video, specific lines in I Bet You Think About Me). The fact that songs like Getaway Car and Bejeweled and Gorgeous and London Boy and Lavender Haze being picked apart at time of release and long after for signs of relationships crumbling. The way she uses surprise songs in relation to her relationship development with Joe/Matty/Travis. The damn TTPD "stages of grief" playlists where she deliberately undid/changed the meanings of old songs just to keep her audience speculating on her love life.

It's not sexist to point out that her wielding her love life is a marketing tool and that the strongest connection to her audience isn't the strength of her writing/the composition of her music- it's her deliberate crafting of a connection between her music and her personal life, leaving the audience invested in her music as an extension of Taylor the Person/Girlfriend rather than Taylor the Artist.

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

More of my diabetic Steve verse!

Steve, who doesn’t realize that Eddie is super famous and robin who could literally not care any less.

Steve and Eddie exchange numbers and text all of the time. It takes a week for Eddie to crack and send this message:

Eddie: Please for the love of god let me take you on a date I need to wine and dine you so hard I think I might pass out

Steve obviously says yes.

Eddie takes them to a small diner because he doesn’t want to risk being seen by crazy fans who somehow always find out where he is. If Eddie is being honest, he blames twitter.

Eddie gets there to find Steve already sitting at a booth, fiddling with something on his phone. His glasses are sliding down his nose again and he is wearing a Wham! graphic t-shirt and light wash jeans. He stands up once he notices Eddie and flashes a huge grin, which causes Eddie to also smile.

They both sit down on their respective sides of the table and get comfortable, making small talk. It takes a bit, but Eddie notices that Steve has the menu pulled up on his phone and laughs.

“Doing some homework?”

Steve looks confused for a second before glancing down.

“Oh yeah! I always make sure to look at it beforehand whenever I go out to make sure that I have options depending on my blood sugar level.”

“What’s your… number, is that the correct term, now?”

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yes! And let me check.” Steve pulls out a cute green pouch and takes out a bunch of supplies. “I just changed my CGM—“ At Eddie’s confused look, he says, “My glucose monitor. It’s not completely synced yet so I can’t rely on my pod to tell me what level I’m actually at.”

After he says that, Steve cleans his finger with an alcohol wipe, lets it dry, and then pricks his finger. He squeezes the pad of his ring finger and blood pools to the surface.

“Yikes. I’m gonna have to give myself a correction or two.”

Steve cleans up the space but leaves his pouch out, and then wraps a sparkly bandaid on his finger.

“What’s a correction?”

Eddie feels dumb. He wishes he knew more about diabetes and actually researched it before showing up to the diner with no prior knowledge.

“I just give myself a little extra insulin to make my blood sugar go down. I’m flirting with 250 right now and I really want a burger.”

—

The date passes swimmingly and the two men find themselves sitting in the same booth at the same diner, but on the same side. Their hands are intertwined and Steve wrapped up half of his meal to take home.

“I made this for you!” Steve says suddenly. He grabs a stack of stapled papers and hands them to Eddie. “I made you a ‘diabetes guide!’ Since I plan on our relationship being permanent, it would give me peace of mind if you knew what to do in case of an emergency.”

Steve begins thumbing through the packet and explaining everything, but Eddie can hardly focus.

Not with Steve clutching his hand or with him wanting their relationship to become “permanent.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “I understand if this is a dealbreaker or whatever, but I just like you so much and I want to be your boyfriend as of two weeks ago.”

Eddie just blinks. Then he smiles. “We only met a week ago, Stevie.”

Steve blushes, tucks some hair behind his ear. “I know that. I just had a feeling that I would meet the one.”

“Yeah?” A pause. “Can I kiss you?”

Steve releases a breath. Puts his hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask. I hope you don’t mind the taste of hamburger.”

Eddie laughs before lunging forward.

—

As they head back to Steve’s apartment hand in hand, Eddie tells him about his more than ordinary job. Explains what might happen when people see them together.

Steve just laughs and says, “I’ve fought literal monsters from hell, I can handle anything.”

Eddie falls more in love than he knew possible.

[transmechanicus]

If a band’s members haven’t revealed their identities on purpose i don’t FUCKING wanna know them, the modern obsession with parasocial connection is a disease and i have nothing but respect for artists trying to ward that shit off.

[sunwyrms]

May we have more Loopdile please?

(typically i dont do requests, but i suppose i can humor you since you were so polite~)

They do this every morning. Nobody has any idea why. Bonnie is sick of it.

[id in alt]

[diokiraceo]

so I've already seen a few ships for Reca being thrown around, but have we considered

[mariemariemaria]

the way christopher eccleston was right about rtd lmao

[littlefankingdom]

Bruce Wayne: It has come to my attention that people think Wayne Enterprises are profiting of the LGBTQ+ people during pride month.

Bruce Wayne: All year around, WE finance LGBTQ+ programs not just in Gotham, but all around the world, to support LGBTQ+ people and their loved ones through their journey.

Bruce Wayne: As a proud father of multiple queer children, this is the least I can do.

Bruce Wayne: I'm also not straight.

[okjii]

oh what I would give to experience aftg as an in universe fan. you thought it was a roller coaster being there right alongside Neil ?imagine seeing all that shit go down on early 2000s Facebook.

[luxen-r]

How do men claim that beauty standards are female-enforced and that they “don’t care about stuff like that” and claim women are the vain and vapid bitches who blame them and the patriarchy instead of themselves.

But then claim women hit the wall at 25.

But then they make up 80 percent of all plastic surgeons while women make up 90 percent of “patients”.

But then make thousands of podcasts about how 16 yr olds are in their “prime for reproduction”.

But then abandon their kids and wife because she gains 5 pounds after pregnancy.

But then whine that women who don’t shave are man haters.

But then are the owners of most makeup and fashion brands that push their shitty trends on women.

The day pigs fly is the day men gain an ounce of critical thinking and hold themselves accountable.

Fucking clowns.

[dollypopup]

the audacity of this fandom to call Colin an idiot and then immediately believe a Sun UK article smdh

[dalt0nyc0]

TvNotas Magazine featuring Ana de la Reguera y Tony Dalton. November 19th, 2019.

This is a tabloid filled with gossip however it is a magazine I own that features Tony so I figured I’d post it. It’s about their breakup and Tony not ready to get married.

[softquietsteadylove]

Thena. A movie premiere with Gil. Very intrusive Paparazzis. For the actor au 👀

It was a barrage of flashes as soon as they were out of the car. Of course they couldn't expect otherwise. The movie was a huge hit, and with them playing leads in a studio hit again, they were bound to have press at their heels.

But this was insane. Gil wasn't sure if he'd ever been swarmed by fans and paparazzi alike in such a way. There were cameras everywhere, people holding out things for signing, screams on all sides.

Gil reached back before Thena put her feet to the red carpet. His hand closed around hers. "Don't let go."

Thena had done some modelling work over the summer, and with a few other projects she'd done coming out, she was the hottest commodity of the year. She had always been a star, but it really seemed like she couldn't take a step outside without being photographed.

And that wasn't good. It meant he had a harder time seeing her outside of work.

Gil held his hand out. Security was already on either side of them, flanking their exit and direct route into the building for the screening. He kept Thena's hand in his, tight but not enough to hurt her.

"Thena! Thena, can you sign this? Thena, we love you!"

All the voices blended together into one monstrous hivemind. Thena did her best to sign a few things. She couldn't see from all the flashes in her face, and he could tell she couldn't.

Fighting through as best he could, he eventually made it to the doorway. He looked around. A few of his security guys were with him, but Thena's weren't. And Thena wasn't either.

"What the hell?" he glared at them.

They looked affronted. They were hired for his security, after all.

But Gil growled at them, "you just left her there?!"

They had no response. Gil pushed back into the crowd, which was a hellish mass of undulating bodies at this point. Thena was surrounded on all sides. He could barely see the top of her blonde head amidst the chaos.

"Please, back up, just-" Thena was trying to reason with them, but they were pushing and shoving and deafeningly loud. There were placards and books and magazines being shoved at her from all angles. "Back up!"

Gil shoved a few people out of his way. This was beyond out of control. "She said back up!"

"Hey!" the guy most in her personal space protested to being pushed. He had some big photo of her printed on a canvas, shoving it at her for it to be signed. "What's the-"

Gil tossed the thing aside, grasping the jackass by the front of his shirt. "You don't fucking crowd her like that."

The dirt bag was easy to toss, like the trash he was. The security guys around her were trying to keep people at bay, although he didn't know how hard they were trying, since they certainly weren't fucking succeeding at anything.

He took Thena's hand in both of his, refusing to let it slip away from again. He pulled her with him, closer, keeping people away by any means necessary, if it meant kneeing, elbowing, shoulder checking.

He didn't pause at the doorway, either. Only once they were inside and the door was closed did he lean away from her at all. He glared at her security, who were shaking out their jackets. "What the fuck were you doing out there?! Because it certainly wasn't your jobs!"

"Gil," Thena put her hand on his chest.

"How the hell did anyone get that close to her?!" he bellowed at them. Although, by the second time Thena called to him his eyes were on her. He smoothed down the odd hair of hers that had gotten tousled in it all. He tilted his head. "Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you? Did anyone put their hands on you?"

His hands would be laid on anyone who did, was his point. But Thena shook her head, straightening herself out after the anarchy. He could see on her pale skin where people had pushed and shoved and grabbed.

Thena looked up at him as he slipped the fallen strap of her dress back onto her shoulder. Finally, she managed a small smile for him. "Thanks for the save."

He was happy to save her. But he had never considered it saving her before because there hadn't been any peril quite like that. He looked at the security again. "I'm serious, how was anyone able to just come up and get that close to her? Isn't your job to keep people away from her?"

"Look, it's crazy out there," one made a pitiful attempt at defending their poor performance. "We did what we could."

"Really?" Gil's face darkened. He put his hands on Thena's arms. He could feel her shaking. "Because I seemed to do a lot better than you guys at keeping those animals off of her, so tell me right now why I shouldn't ask each and every one of you to be replaced?"

No one had an answer to that.

He could try to beat it into their skulls how useless they were all night. But he had more important priorities. He pulled his jacket off, leaving himself in the mockneck sweater he had worn underneath. Once it was on Thena's shoulders - completely dwarfing her tiny frame - he put his hand at the small of her back.

"You'll get a reputation," she said, either chiding him or amused by him. "Acting like a beast while you're ushering me away from people."

"I think 'people' is being kind of generous in this situation," he scoffed, letting his disgust ring out loud and clear. "That's no way to behave."

Thena sighed. "It is the craziest I've seen it in some time. I may have to stop signings again, just until people can calm down. Unless the studio can arrange barricaded carpets."

They were going to work out something, Gil was certain of it. Because he wasn't going to watch Thena's bodily safety come into question like it just did. He leaned closer. "Are you sure you're okay? It was pretty scary in there."

She smiled, and he could tell she was trying to put on a brave front. But he knew he had felt her trembling when he'd touched her arm. "I admit, when they came over me like a tidal wave I didn't quite know what to do with myself. The others were there with me, but in one instant--I don't know, I lost sight of everyone."

How it was possible for her security to allow her to lose sight of them, he didn't know. But Gil swallowed that feeling. It wasn't constructive and it wasn't what Thena needed now.

"So, when I say thanks for saving me," she continued, putting her hand on his arm as they started climbing the stairs. "I mean it, now more than ever."

He put his hand over hers, letting her hold onto his arm properly while her other hand pulled her dress just enough to allow her to walk up each step. "I'll always be here to save you, Thena."

She let out a fluttery kind of laugh, although he couldn't see when she was looking away from him. "Don't say things like that."

"It's true," he protested. He could feel some of the tension leave her the further away from the screaming they got. "Those security guards may not be worth shit but I'd like to see anyone try what they tried tonight if they know I'm there."

He thought he was making her laugh; putting on a front, flexing for her like some dumb, macho tough guy. But she eyed his bicep in the half sleeve of the sweater, then looked up at him. And then she was blushing, out of nowhere.

He cleared his throat, finding himself flustered as well. Once at the top of the stairs, Thena didn't really need to hold onto him anymore. He paused, letting them catch their breath. "Are you ready?--to go in there, I mean."

She sighed, smaller than the last one, though. She nodded, her expression solidifying into more of the fearless Thena he had come to know. She looked at his jacket swaying around her like a cloak. "Won't you need this back? I'm sure your stylist will have something to say about me stealing it."

He kept imagining that creep's hands, how they had come so close to grasping her pristine ivory skin. He shook his head, helping her fan her hair out. "The oversized blazer look is a thing, and everything looks good on you."

Gil blushed again; he really had to stop saying these things to his very trusted and respected colleague.

Thena gave him a more sheepish smile as she adjusted her hold on his arm. "It's my armour, to protect me from the wilderness outside."

[footsteps-on-the-dance-floor]

The thing about calling someone an "egg" is that it's extremely condescending. If an egg is someone who is transgender but hasn't realised it yet, then calling someone and egg is not just saying "hey I bet this person is actually transgender" it's saying "hey I bet this person doesn't understand themself"

it's SO rude. Trans people can have their own reason for not being out, or for not transitioning, or for not being 100% public about their sexuality/gender and it is not just about not understanding themself.

[reneesbooks]

character intro -- will

a bit of love for our favorite token florist, will moore from hurts, doesn't it? it's shelved right now but we still love our boy. @oh-no-another-idea this one goes out to you <3

The bell over the door rang and I turned to greet the customer. “Welcome to Lydia’s Fine Flowers, how can I help you?” The young woman smiled, running her fingers over the head of one of the flowers near the door. “Just looking, thank you,” she said. “Who’s Lydia?” “My mom,” I said, retreating behind the counter. “She grows all these flowers herself. Best florist in Jersey.” “Not that you’d ever brag,” the young woman said with a smirk. “That would be utterly unbe-leaf-able,” I replied, setting the broom back in its spot. “Bragging is very unbecoming.” “Plant puns must be part of the job,” she said. “The fun part.”

full name: william edward moore (tzemach ben eliyahu v'liylah)

occupation: florist :) until he goes to prison for something he didn't do, at which point he becomes a full-time prison seamstress. then kat breaks him out and he becomes a full-time criminal. and THEN they have to flee for the woods and join the resistance. who says you can't have a well-rounded resume before 25

known associates: katherine barrick, the runaway daughter of the executive. has been spotted with her around the black markets of d.c., usually armed with a bow and arrows. the public has been advised that the two of them are very dangerous and should be avoided. sources that prefer to remain anonymous for their own safety insist that the two of them were spotted rescuing a litter of abandoned kittens from the side of the road, but this story cannot be corroborated and should be disregarded as rebel propaganda.

i love my bisexual disaster boy he's one of my oldest children and has been with me for a decade now (wack). here's a very old character interview i did with him and kat together. here's a quick breakdown of some shenanigans our good jewish boy gets up to:

gets framed for art forgery despite failing every art class he ever took

gets beaten/put in solitary while he's in prison for sneaking a needle and thread into his cell to fix his cellmates' jumpsuit and then immediately does the same thing two weeks later anyway

makes a name for himself as a really scary dude at the d.c. black market, if only because everyone is freaked out by that weird fucking guy who shoots arrows over the other booths when he's bored

misses the olympic tryouts due to being in prison but still manages to make jokes about winning them anyway

hits his abusive dad over the head with a vase and then has a panic attack about it the whole drive home

tells everyone he knows that every part of a dandelion is edible, to the point that kat is able to use it as a way to check if it's really him

gets amnesia and uses it to tell kat all his terrible jokes to again experience her reactions for the first time

adopts kittens just like. for the hell of it. and gets really pouty and upset when kat insists that they're not their kids

a few more snippets because i love his bi dumbass:

“Peyton will be annoyed if we get mint because it's not on the list and Kat will be annoyed if we don't get mint because she's an addict.” Cassie shoved the list into her pocket and set off into the market at a brisk pace. “I'm going to blame it on you. Neither of them will get mad at you.” “Thanks, I think.” I kept stride. “Why won't they get mad at me?” “Because Kat's too busy with her guilt complex over you going to prison and Peyton thinks your butt is cute.” I blushed. “He does?”

“My dad used to joke that I would single-handedly stop the second coming with my bad singing,” Kat said. I could hear the smile in her voice but didn't dare to look at her for fear that she would hide it again. “The angels would be coming and hear me and figure that they had the wrong planet.” “I'm not much of a singer myself,” I admitted. “Nobody at shul ever complained, though. I definitely got the tune wrong when I was reading the Torah at my bar mitzvah, but nobody was going to correct me on that.” “Why not?” “Because the second I had finished, I threw up under the podium.” She cackled. “I'm not a great public speaker!”

Kat watched me pace for another two minutes before she hauled herself off the couch and limped over to one of the kitchen cabinets. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey and set it on the kitchen table. “Peyton's right. You're stressing me out. Shut up and come have a drink.” I stared at her. “A drink?” She poured herself two fingers of whiskey and threw it back without even a grimace. “Two if you'd like. I've got this, Peyton has some rum in the cabinet, or my mom has some coffee liqueur if you like that better.” I watched her pour another two fingers, but she didn't drink it this time. “You're underage.” “Legal drinking age is for nerds,” she said. I wondered, not for the first time that evening, how the Executive had raised a daughter with so little respect for the law. “What, you've never had a drink before?” I shook my head. “Only Kiddush wine.” She raised one eyebrow. “Not even bootlegged moonshine in prison?” I grinned. “I wouldn't touch the prison moonshine with a ten-foot pole; I've seen the kitchen.” She tilted her head, conceding the point. “Then this can be your first.” I eyed the whiskey. “I don't know if I want to start with something that strong.” “Oh my god.” She turned around and threw open the fridge door, rummaging around for a minute. I was impressed by how she managed it without spilling a drop of her drink. When she turned back to me, she was holding a bottle of wine. “Is this dilute enough for you?” I laughed, taking the bottle from her. “Sure. Fuck it.” She whistled. “Think that's the first time I've heard you swear since I broke you out of prison.” I shrugged and unscrewed the lid. It smelled cheap and sweet, like something a mildly drunk relative would have at the family reunion. “My dad hated swearing. He always said it made you sound less educated.” I took a tentative sip. It definitely tasted like the kind of thing you got drunk on at a family reunion. “Not bad. I guess it just became a habit.” “Hmm.” Kat hopped up onto the kitchen counter with her glass of whiskey and let her head fall back against the cabinets. “Fuck your dad.” I sighed, leaning against the kitchen table. “Yeah. Fuck him.”

that's will! i'm putting him in a jar and shaking it violently

[starkholme]

"Your audition tape" Maya doesn't take her eyes off the camera screen "It was brilliant, a personal favorite of mine but I'm only gonna say this once: do not improvise when you're not asked to"

"Thank you" soon she added up "I promise it won't happen again."

"And Carina? You're doing great" this time her piercing blue eyes stared directly at the lead actress, whose heart stopped for a second after recognizing the fire and sadness merging themselves behind the wall of feelings in front her.

"Thank you, director"

"Maya, you can call me Maya"

Carina felt that a tiny part of her wanted to impress Maya, do right by the end of the production. And a massive part of her wanted to get to know Maya better, break down all the walls surrounding her.

"Thank you, Maya" she smiled as she left the room not noticing the director's mirroring her smile.

Maya Bishop is known for having a mix reputation: some loved her, some hated her, few were ambivalent about her, some believed she was a genius, some believe she was just ruthless. Working with her demanded perfection, actors who worked with her confessed the challenge made them more focused on their jobs and most of them we rewarded with either Golden Globes, Oscars, Emmys, Critics Choice, anything you could imagine. On the other hand, some claimed she made the scene way too coordinated, wanting and demanding it the way she envisioned, no space for creativity outside the script. In the end, everyone had an opinion about the director, and yet none of them knew her personal life besides her producer Andy Herrera.

Carina DeLuca was not expecting Maya Bishop to be her new director. She set it up her audition tap as soon as she could, the script itself was amazing, a drama film set in Italy with a main character who had lived years apart from her family now struggles with going back to her origin country, a story much closer to home than what she anticipated. Studio 19 needed someone — preferably Italian or fluent in Italian — to be the main lead, but Maya's name was not attached in any sort of paper, and she's been enough time in spolight to have heard rumors behind the director's workplace. Although Carina never really deemed any of them to be 100% true, she was willing to learn whatever she could took from Maya's guidance, but once things start to get hazy between her and Maya, she beings to see this movie as more than just a job.

[petruchio]

thinking about. midnight you come and pick me up no headlights and if you like midnight driving with the windows down and if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms and they don’t know about the night at the hotel and remember the day we were giving up when you told me i didn’t give you enough and remember when we couldn’t take the heat i walked out and said im setting you free and you still don’t know what i never said and we don’t say what we really mean and you’re still all over me like a wine stained dress i can’t wear anymore and this isn’t the stain of a red wine i’m bleeding love and you’re making me bleed woman and if you never bleed you’re never gonna grow and it’s another day waking up alone and i don’t wanna be alone and you got a new life and i’m doing good i’m on some new shit and do you wanna talk and i just may like to have a conversation and i wish you were right here and don’t you know that i am right here?