#taylor tags

[chronically-ghosted]

is this why i love the underrated pedro boys? 🤔 game recognizes game? probably . . .

picrew | quiz

thanks to @saradika for the tag, this was sweet!

@swiftispunk @hier--soir @basicoccult @legendary-pink-dot @clickergossip @iamskyereads @haylzcyon @goodwithcheese @darkroastjoel

[chronic-ghost]

WIP Wednesday

Today has been a very busy day and to come home to this, it's wonderful! I have tomorrow off so fingers crossed I can actually make some progress on these.

Feel free to ask about any of them!

Part 3 of Just One More Thing (Javier Peña x f!reader)

“You made one mistake, though.” You can feel your stomach drop out, goosebumps break out like a sunburn across your back. “But you know what? I’ll get to that in a minute.” He takes another swig from his beer, casual, relaxed. Annoyingly unbothered.  Fuckin’ nonplussed son of a bitch.  “Right now,” he drawls, running his fingers down the line of his mustache. He finally turns towards you. “All I wanna know is whh–,” His eyes land on your black dress, your thighs, and heels. You’re sure to push up your chest just a bit.  “–hhyy are you dressed like that?” 

Untitled 5+1 "Do you trust me?" for pedrostories (Max Phillips x f!reader)

“Max, if we’re ever going to do this thing for real, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me naked. I’m not letting you fuck me and bite me while I’m in riot gear.” “Okay, but, baby,” he whines and he can’t help himself from rubbing the satin bow above your crotch between his fingers. “You look like a birthday cake.”  Is the baby blue lingerie with a strapless bra that catches around your biceps with white lace a bit overboard? Yes. But last time was ridiculous.

The Riders of the Purple Sapir (Din Djarin x f!reader)

“The Creed says we live on in the songs of others.” His fingers drummed the top of the rifle. “That we are the memories of the people who know you. Not the other way around.”  You nodded slowly, the smile now easy and genuine. “That’s comforting. Memories as songs. Like a chorus when all played together.” The silence stretched, the tension no longer gripping. And then a mischievous grin crept across your lips in the low lamp light. “Does this mean Din Djarin can sing?”  His frown was palpable. “It’s not those kinds of songs.”  You laughed, soft and gentle, and he wished he wasn’t so predictable. Still smiling, you dropped your legs out in front of you, crossing them and leaning back. Your eyes fall to the rifle in his lap.

Tagging in order to bother: @luthien-under-bough @iamskyereads @trulybetty @fortysevenswrites @astarkey @northernbluess @stormikins @jyngerpeach @theywhowriteandknowthings and anyone else who sees this!

[helpimstuckinafandom]

I'M FUCKING CRYING LMAOOO

[frankierotwinkdeath]

Y’all want Taylor Swift to be gay so bad but you won’t even write femslash about her

[willgrahamscock]

You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

[inkskinned]

the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.

women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.

what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.

i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.

fuck, man. write better material.

a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.

god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.

this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.

we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.

i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -

it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.

[cametotheshowinsd]

My beloved ghost and me Sitting in a tree D-Y-I-N-G

[nataliescatorccio]

RED WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE + Letterboxd Reviews

[thethiefandtheairbender]

Taylor Tomlinson: Have It All (2024)

[khawla-gfm2]

Campaign Information:

Camapaing Link:

$35,097/$80,000 as of [November 20th]

Vetted by association link, asked Mohiy directly by a tumblr user like you: https://www.tumblr.com/dlxxv-vetted-donations/759083705638731776/this-campaign-is-vetted-by-association-through

Family Members:

[Mother] Khawla: 34 years old

[Father] Adel: 33 years old

[Son] Muhammad: 5 years old, contracted hepatitis from contaminated drinking water, currently recieves limited treatment for his condition.

[Daughter] Sham: 3 years old

[Daughter] Ghazal: 1 and a half, she's lactose intolerant so they need to work with her dietary needs.

Original Dedicated Blog @khawla-gfm was shadowbanned as i couldn't send messages anymore, or look up the blog in the search engine. @khawla-family was made by a connected family member to help reach people for the fundraiser.

Pinned Post In Original Blog: https://www.tumblr.com/khawla-gfm/760987567153872896/moved-to-khawla-gfm2-for-updates-and-messaging

[chronically-ghosted]

WIP Wednesday 🎉🎉

kisses all day long for @almostfoxglove and @sp00kymulderr for the tags and 😱 i actually have something things to show off! (proof i am not mostly just sitting on my ass)

Opening scenes from Lover Share Your Road Part 3

With your elbow, you tip the brim of your hat until it slides off the crown of your head and falls against the knot of your spine, held tight to you by the dirty cords around your neck. You are suddenly intimately aware of the layer of grime and sweat against your scalp when the cool cellar air strokes you over your forehead and behind your neck, the chill erupting goosebumps down your arms, the small wooden box in your hands shaking. Against your sun-hot skin, it’s relieving, comforting, a respite against what has been feeling more and more like trying to dig through concrete with your fingernails. The fine layer of dirt over the most recent harvest in the box shifts. The dirt in the curves and crevices of your skin and shirt and pants, over the potatoes and carrots, shifts, sprinkling the cellar floor with a cruel mockery of rain. The dirt is everywhere these days.

(and here comes the downward spiral of my shame)

a while back (i mean a WHILE BACK) I got a request for an ABO Joel and . . . listen. it's something - mostly a lot of Seether and Rise Against - but it's also this:

“And as an Omega,” her gaze rolls over you, as if inspecting a new machine for cracks, “you’re supposed to be intimidated.” You lift your drink to your lips, grinning as it dribbles around the corners of your mouth. You lick your chin. She smells like magnolias, faintly. Like dead magnolias, stuffed and pickled. You wonder what she’d smell like clean of inhibitors. “‘Supposed to be’. None of that shit matters anymore. It’s the end of the world, didn’t you hear?” “So Alphas don’t bother you.” “Nope.” You pop your lips on the p, catching a drop of condensation on the side of your glass with your thumb, then your mouth. “Alphas can’t control Omegas like that anymore. But I think you knew that.”

(yes that is Tess 👀)

And, yes, there is one more. It's what I've been using to get back into writing after a rather long break. The original concept started as "being in love with someone who doesn't age would be a gift because they would see you and know you, really know you, all your life, as a sort of guardian angel." and then, well, it feels long, it feels self-indulgent, but i'm actually having some fun with it. No, I'm not going to tell you what character its for - you can just come publicly shame me in my ask box as god intended.

Despite him being several inches taller than you, you somehow manage to yank him down to your level, nose inches from the back of your hand, which is still sealed over his mouth. “I’ve worked my ass off to get to the top of my graduating class and I’ve been a good girl all my life and, goddamn it, I want a fucking beer. If I were anywhere else in the world, I could waltz up and buy one, but I’m not and I’m fucked, here in this specific bar . . . so just shut – up!” Get caught by the bouncer and tossed out on your ass or assault a former professor and a current mutant with truly hair-raising, deadly abilities you’ve seen repeatedly in action; the devil you know or the devil you-sort-of-kind-of-know-but-really-just-know-from-being-in-proximity-as-long-as-you-can-remember-combined-with-an-age-inappropiate-hero-worship-complex. And of course, he just had to remember that stupid nickname you were once so proud of you legitimately considered tattooing it on your arm. But if he was going to tease you with it, your hand over his mouth was doing a smashing good job of preventing that. Your hand over his mouth seems to be preventing a lot of things actually – he’s still standing there, hunched down – until he realizes he’s fallen right into your heinous trap of tomfoolery.

that's it for now, folks. passing along the love to:

@clawdee @covetyou @iamskyereads @imaswellkid @sweetercalypso

[chronic-ghost]

tag game!! 

rules: tag nine people you want to know better( @transrjmacready ur username is an inspiration to us all - never ever change)

last song: GOOD GRIEF by cleopatrick

last show: TLOU (had me screaming crying throwing up on the floor)

currently watching: The Mandalorian, The Legend of Vox Machina (which just ended), and TLOU

currently reading: Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb (for my local library’s book club that I started!)

current obsessions: Pedro Pascal, Jedi Fallen Order, vague plot bunnies from 2015 where I was going to prove in a point-by-point presentation about how Rey was in fact Kenobi’s granddaughter but we’ll save that for another time, Pedro Pascal

tagging some folks I’ve never had the pleasure to directly interact with or only interacted with briefly but would love the chance to get to know more!

@waytkayt @tess-joel-me @omnikillr @therosejamjournal @meraus

[tvventystitches]

i looove taking songs literally. can you believe taylor swift got abducted by aliens and fell in love with one of them. she also killed a man

[themoon-andtosaturn]

zurich n1

[stood-onthecliffside]

this is me trying by taylor swift // black swan by darren aronofsky // the bear by christopher storer // i, tonya by craig gillespie // normal people by lenny abrahamson and hettie macdonald // untitled by me // this is me trying by taylor swift // fleabag by phoebe waller-bridge // euphoria by sam levinson // eternal sunshine of the spotless mind by michel gondry // vicky cristina barcelona by woody allen // pearl by ti west // not strong enough by boygenuis // the Painter and the pianist ny lionello balestrieri // crying girl on the sofa by peder knudsen // dead poets society by peter weir // the prophecy by taylor swift // brutal by olivia rodrigo // lady bird by greta gerwig // gilmore girls by amy sherman-palladino // dreams of mickey mantle by bleachers // untitled by me // la la land by damien chazelle // little women by greta gerwig // right where you left me by taylor swift // reality bites by ben stiller // friends from college by francesca delbanco and nicholas stoller // the edge of seventeen by kelly fremon craig // i’m trying (not friends) by maisie peters // hoax by taylor swift

[cherriielle]

summer/fall cards 📷✨