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onyx-void · 4 years

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Answer 1 through 50

Okay. You called my bluff. (ok not really a bluff, tbh, thank you I appreciate you) Unfortunately, we're having an internet outage where I live, so this is gonna take a while. Also, I have to do this on the webpage, on my phone, cause otherwise I can't have an 'under the cut.'

1. Do you have a crush on anyone?

I suppose you could call it a crush. That's one layer to how I feel. Like an onion :p

2. What's your favorite candy?

Ferror Roche, or however you spell it, Unless it's a holiday, then I Love those chocolate covered marshmallow treats.

3. Favorite love song?

I don't really listen to music much, tbh, love songs included. The first one to come to mind is "Love Story" by Taylor Swift. My favorite when I actually think about it has to be "You Are My Sunshine" by Johnny Cash.

4. What was your first kiss like?

My first kiss. I had my first kiss last year, actually, at the same age I am now, 22. That was my first date, too, such as it was during a pandemic. I hadn't -still haven't, I guess- had many 'first's.' It was awkward, but nice. Chaste, to start.

5. What was your last kiss like?

My last kiss, was a goodbye.

6. Sexual/romantic orientation?

I'm reasonably sure I'm straight, heteroromantic. I've questioned all my orientations several times over the years, but nothing seems to fit as well as that does.

7. Do you prefer poems or love letters?

I would be over the moon to get either. I've written a few poems, though they weren't For anyone. I would prefer love letters, though. Poems can wax and wain to the individuals interpretation, but love letters can declare for all to see.

8. Favorite fanfic trope?

God, I'm Super self-indulgent with my fanfic. I love Mary Sue's, fix-it, time travel, amnesia, self-insert. I want everything to be okay, and for the main character to be able to have at least some idea of what challenges they'll face.

9. Have you ever been in love?

Have been, still am.

10. Favorite milkshake flavor?

Strawberry. Also favorite ice cream flavor. Chocolate's fine, but strawberry Hagen Daaz is The Best. (tbh it's also a sorta reference to my fav character/anime, Ryougi Shiki from Kara no Kyoukai. It's also just damn good ice cream tho

11. Dinner dates or Brunch dates?

Dinner dates could be a great end to the day, but brunch date leaves the possibility for a full day together to look forward to, so I'll go with that.

12. Favorite flowers?

Sunflowers. Though lilacs are nice too.

13. Favorite perfume/cologne?

I've used a vanilla sugar scent in the past? Don't use or have others use it enough to have a favorite.

14. Favorite candle scent?

I got a pack of incense a while back, a dozen different scents. I think my favorite is called Celestial. It's smells like... lavender and petrichor and stardust, I suppose.

15. What's your ideal first date?

Ideal, so everything's perfect. Hiking in the woods, a mountainous area, lots of ups and downs and winding paths and beautiful colors and views. We come to a clearing, and a picnic I've prearranged is already set up next to a glittering lake. We sit, and eat, and talk.

16. What's your favorite love story?

Just the other day, I was finally able to watch The Princess Bride. I absolutely loved it.

17. What's the most attractive thing a person could wear?

Easy. One of my shirts, and that's all that's visible. Could they be wearing something underneath it? Maybe. But you can't be sure, unless they show you one way or another It's a sort of, are they aren't they thing. That said, it works for just about anything where you can't tell if they're wearing short shorts or something, but it works best if it's something more casual than a dress, like a oversized hoodie or shirt.

18. Chocolate, vanilla, or red velvet?

Chocolate. Vanillas alright, red velvets gross.

19. Snow, rain, or sun?

God, we just got snow here that Actually Lasted All Day. That's a miracle tbh. I absolutely love it.

20. Sweetest romantic memory?

We were swinging at the local park, just talking. And I looked over, and the sun was shining through the trees onto the face of an angel. I could have spent eternity in that moment.

21. Favorite dating sim? (And favorite character?)

The only dating sims I know are yandere dating sim, and hautiful boyfriend. Favorite character in general is Ryougi Shiki

22. Fictional crushes?

...Ryougi Shiki...

23. What's your dream wedding like?

It's a small affair, outside, in our backyard on our plant of land, amongst the orchards and vegetable gardens. There's a living arch made of roses I've been growing in secret in preparation, and the bride's bouquet is made from cuttings we took on the spot. The sun is shining, everyone's full of joy, and our love is sure.

24. What makes you blush?

Sincere expressions of love, or even just Being Known. If you say you care for me I Will Melt and that is a Threat.

25. Do you believe in love at first sight?

I have to. I can't disregard my own experiences. That said, it's important to say that love is also something you work towards, together, day in and day out. It's not always hard work, it might not even seem like work, but it's an active thing.

26. Do you believe in soulmates?

I think there are several people you can meet over the course of your life you can call a soulmate.

27. Denim jackets, leather jackets, or bomber jackets?

Leather jackets cause I live in Texas. Otherwise, bomber jackets.

28. What's your sign?

Taurus. Lmk if you want my complete chart from that star app.

29. Are you single?

Unfortunately.

30. Do you prefer to charm, or be charmed?

I think I'm quite charming, I'd definitely say I'm in touch with people, though my execution probably leaves something to be desired. That said, I Love to be charmed. Tell me you like me, tell me I'm wanted. Hell yeah.

31. Guitar or piano?

Piano. Love the classics. I was actually looking at how much pan flutes cost just the other day.

32. Favorite romcom? (Or any romantic movie?)

Once again going with The Princess Bride here.

33. Do you fall in love easily?

Far too easily, I'm afraid. Show your interest in me, and you'll catch mine in you. Doesn't happen very often, though. And if it's just something like a dating profile, I'm far pickier.

34. Valentine's decorations, yay or nay?

If it's something personal, absolutely. As long as it has meaning, it's worth it. Even if the holiday itself is just to sell cards.

35. Would you like to propose, or be proposed to? What's your dream proposal?

I would propose, after it's been made mutually clear and discussed we're both up for it. As a kid I dreamed about proposing on one of those boat rides under Niagara Falls. Now, I think it'd be during a hike, on an overlooking cliff, basically like my ideal first date, actually. That, or somewhere personal to the two of us.

36. Cloud gazing or star gazing?

Star gazing, definitely. Out under the stars, looking up and sneaking glances at each other. Telling stories and making up constellations. What's not to love?

37. Do you like to dance?

Oooh, no. I've never danced, not really the social dancing type. Never really took the opportunity too.

38. What's your OTP?

....Ryougi Shiki and Mikiya Kokuto

39. Kittens or puppies?

You're gonna make me CHOOSE?! ...puppies, because they're more lively and willing to interact with me, generally speaking.

40. Coffee, hot chocolate, or tea?

Hot chocolate. Never got into coffee, I want to like hot tea, but eh. Iced tea is good tho y'all.

41. Favorite soda?

God as a kid I Devoured grape Crush soda. Like. 24 cans a week. Mainly drink juice nowadays. Or choccy milk

42. Do you prefer gazing wistfully out the window or lying dramatically on the sofa?

Window, definitely. Light as well have a view if I've gotta be dramatic, right?

43. Favorite ABBA song?

"Take a Chance on Me" followed shortly by "Dancing Queen"

44. Fuck/Marry/Kill?

You didn't name anyone, so... Fuck Lauren German (I've been watching Lucifer) Marry the one I love, and kill, idk, Trump?

45. Favorite pajamas?

For myself? They're fleece, I think. Usually I just sleep in my boxers tho. For my theoretical partner? How about my boxers ;)

46. Favorite liquor?

I've never had any alcohol, and I don't really intend to.

47. Do you think about love alot?

Every day. It's what drives me.

48. A walk in the park or a walk on the beach?

Walk in the park. More cover ;)

49. Hand kisses or nose kisses?

How about a hand kiss going up the arm, slowly, sensually, all the way up the arm, to the shoulder, taking a stop on the side of the neck, and right before it gets to the lips... Nose kisses.

50. What's your dreamhouse?

It's in a mountainous area. On at least 5 acres. Plenty of woods with trails in them, bordering a national park. On my land, there's an orchard of fruit trees, and greenhouses with herbs and vegetables. The house itself is actually japanese inspired. There's an outdoor garden you can access after coming through the entrance. The bedroom door is a sliding one, through a shortened circular opening. The whole thing gives off a cozy feeling. The love of my life has made their presence known in every room of the house.

#ask me stuff #ask me more questions ill tell you no lies #geez that took forever #thank you tho #i actuslly do appreciate it #i like being wanted #even if its just an anon wanting to know more about me #or even if you really Were just calling my buff #bluff #feel free to message me btw #anon #or anyone else #if you want clarification #or if you want to actually name someone for the FMK

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mosylufanfic · 5 years

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On a Wednesday, in a Cafe

<sidles in> ahem so.

I meant to have this done for Valentine’s Day. I really, really did. But then I didn’t. I don’t know what to tell you. But hey, it’s still February, I haven’t finished eating my giant heart-shaped box of chocolates, and I ship these two dum-dums the whole year round so I’m going to slap it up here anyway.

Title from “Begin Again” by Taylor Swift

On a Wednesday, in a Cafe

"Hi, welcome to Jitters," the barista said when she walked up to the counter. "Decaf chai latte from the app, right?"

"Right. Thanks." Caitlin forced a pleasant smile onto her tired face and reached out for her drink.

But instead of handing it over, the girl said, "Look who's here!"

Caitlin blinked at her. It had been a long day and she really just wanted to sit quietly in a corner and unwind before going home and to bed.

But the barista waved a hand. "Look!" she said insistently.

Caitlin turned her head and saw a man sitting at her usual table. She started to be annoyed, but something throttled the emotion before it could fully form. She knew those shoulders. She knew the sheen of that dark hair, even if it was caught back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. She knew that broad-palmed hand that lifted to tuck a stray lock behind his ear. She even knew that huge hockey bag down by his feet.

"That's your friend, right? You guys always used to be in here together."

"Right," Caitlin said faintly. She took her drink and walked over to the table. "Cisco?"

His head whipped around, and she knew that smile too, even if it was buried in a thick, dark beard. "Caitlin! Hey!"

He leapt up and hugged her. She hugged him back, the solid feel of his body against hers feeding some hunger inside her.

He let her go first, and she made herself release him. "I literally just texted you," he said.

She pulled her phone out and saw his message glowing on the screen. Just got into the CC, it said. Can I crash with you for the night?

She looked up. "Of course you can. You don't even need to ask."

He grinned. "Thought maybe I should check. Just in case you had a, uh, a guest already."

She felt her cheeks heat. "No guests," she said. "Not for awhile." Nobody but you, she almost said, and felt herself blush hotter.

He looked at her for a moment, and then said, "Well. Good."

She popped the lid off her drink and stirred it absently. "So," she said. "How long are you in town this time?"

He'd been gone for months, on the road checking out what had changed after Crisis. He would upload his findings to the Star Labs database and stop into Central City for a day or two when his path took him there. The last time, he'd stayed with Caitlin.

"I think," he said slowly, "that I'm back for good."

She looked up. "For good? Really?"

"Yeah, I've hit all the major cities with a meta presence. Think I got a handle on what's changed now. We'll probably still get the occasional shock here and there, but the project's done as far as I'm concerned. And - " He met her eyes. "It's time, you know? I took my break."

She put her hand over his. "You know there's a high chance you'll run into Kamilla. She still works with Iris."

"Yeah. I know."

"How are you doing?" she asked.

The night it had happened, he'd texted her. It's over. We broke up. I can't stay here. Can I crash on your couch?

She'd texted back of course immediately.

He'd come over with a bottle of vodka and no information other than that long distance had been too hard on their relationship. He'd asked to watch Star Wars ("original trilogy, obvs"), and had only cried a little, when Princess Leia told Han Solo she loved him and he'd said he knew.

He'd been gone by the time she'd woken up the next morning, her sofa bed folded up and the blankets and pillows stacked neatly on the cushions.

They usually texted when he was on the road, and when he video-called, it was to the cortex because he'd learned something everyone needed to know. So it had been hard to gauge how he was handling the breakup, and when she asked, he just texted back that he was handling it okay.

He did look okay. Not nearly as wrecked as he had been after Cynthia. Of course, it had been two months.

He met her eyes. "I'm doing okay," he said. "I won't lie, being out of Central City really helped."

"Your stuff is all in storage," she said. "Kamilla packed it all up for you."

"I know. She sent me the address of the storage place. And the bill, which is fair." He toyed with his phone. "I did a lot of thinking. A little drinking. And, uh, for future reference, 'I'm in town for a week and I'm newly single' is apparently, like, Tinder catnip."

It hit her like a thump in the chest, and she pretended to take a sip of her latte to cover her baffling reaction.

They'd talked about their sex lives before. Not in graphic detail or anything, but she'd always known when he was dating or had an FWB or having a dry spell, just like he had with her.

Of course he would have had a few hookups. She should have known he would. That was one of his breakup go-tos, along with drinking more than he should and watching the angstiest, most dramatic telenovelas so he would have an excuse to cry.

"Hey," he said, and she looked up. "I know what you're thinking."

She felt her cheeks heat. "What's that?"

"Yes, I was safe, and yes, they were nice."

That hadn't been even close to what she'd been thinking, but she went with it. "Well, good. That's all I ask."

His smile faded. "How's, uh, how's she doing?"

"I haven't seen her much," she said tactfully. "It would be awkward, you know."

"Right."

"But Iris says she's doing okay."

Iris had also added that if she never heard that one Lizzo song again, it would be too soon, but Caitlin didn't share that.

She bunched up her napkin and made herself drop it, smoothing it on the table. “Are you going to let her know you’re home?”

“I should,” he said, scratching at the edge of his beard. “Just as a heads up. Maybe we’ll get coffee or something, just for closure. But that’s her call.”

She was quiet a moment more, but he didn't seem to be up for talking about it. She thought closure and realized again that they really had broken up. Somehow it had been hard to believe it.

"So, how are things around here? You mentioned Frost and Sue were getting into it a little.”

“Oh, adjustment pains,” she assured him. “You know how Frost doesn't like new people in the group, and Sue is kind of like a cat, in that if someone doesn't like her, she makes it her mission in life to annoy them. It’s much better now. They've worked it out."

"Yeah? Really? What happened?"

"I don't have all the details, but judging by the hangover the next morning, tequila shots were involved."

"Just tequila shots?"

"Sue pleaded the Fifth and so far there's not a warrant out for Frost, so I thought it best to leave it there."

He laughed. "So otherwise, how is the famous Sue?"

She started filling him in on all the ways that Sue was tying Ralph in knots, and how much he was enjoying it, while acting like he wasn't. As usual with them, they found more and more things to talk about, until their drinks were stone-cold and they were the only people in the cafe.

She looked across the table at him as he was telling some story about his time in Gotham, and thought I missed you.

They'd had long stretches of separation before, like after Ronnie had died the second time or after Savitar. But this was the first time it hadn't been due to some trauma, and the first time they'd kept in touch. She'd started to live for the buzz of her phone, and more than once Barry had called her out for sneaking a look at her texts when they were trying to brainstorm about the enemy-of-the-week.

The night he'd broken up with Kamilla, she'd stared at the ceiling for close to an hour before she was able to make herself go to sleep, wondering why she had butterflies in her stomach, and why she kept thinking about him asleep in the next room, and why the door between them seemed so thin and the distance between the sofabed and her own bed seemed so short.

It would have been a bad idea, she knew that. Bad timing. But somehow she couldn't come up with any reasons not to do it besides that.

The barista started wiping down the tables near them, and she checked her phone. “Oh, they closed half an hour ago.”

“It’s fine!” the girl chirped in the tones of someone who’d been instructed by corporate not to ever kick someone out. “You stay as long as you like."

"No, we should go." Caitlin got up and tossed her cup into the trash. Cisco followed suit and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. She tried not to stare too openly at the flex of muscle in his arm as he did so.

The night was warm. He'd left in early February, hat crammed firmly on his head and mittens enveloping his hands as they said goodbye at the train station. She'd looked away from him kissing Kamilla and wrapped her arms around herself against the snowy morning, wishing as she always did that Frost could share some of her temperature imperviousness.

Now, they strolled down the street, just the two of them, in the balmy evening. The steam-heat of summer lurked on the horizon.

After nixing the idea of a taxi - "I've been traveling all day. Be good to stretch my legs. Unless you want one?" - Cisco was quiet. They'd turned down her street when he said, "So there's something I didn't tell you earlier about my Tinder dates."

"They weren't nice?"

"They were. But I made it sound like I had a bunch and actually I only had one."

She looked at the sidewalk, pretending she had to pick her way across perfectly flat and clear concrete. "You can have as many or as few Tinder dates as you want," she said. "It's really none of my business."

"They were nice," he persisted. "And I had fun. But I also felt kind of . . . empty afterwards. I'd gotten used to sleeping with someone that I loved, and just sex was like whipped cream without the hot chocolate. Still a good time," he added. "But not really satisfying, you know?"

She took that in, staring at the sidewalk. "Are - are you thinking of getting back together with Kamilla?"

He shook his head at once. "No. We were good together for awhile, but we had good reasons to break up."

"But you thought she was the one."

He was quiet for so long that she looked up, half-dreading his expression. But he just looked sad and pensive.

"You know, I think I wanted her to be the one," he said. "I wanted it so hard that I stuck with us way past our natural expiration date. And it wasn't good for either of us." He looked away, brushing his hair back. "But about a month into my trip, I started to realize that I missed - " He shot her a look. " - other people more than I missed her. And after that it was like things just started unraveling."

She felt her face heat and her heart thump, but he was talking again.

"So, no, I'm not getting back together with her, and I'm pretty sure she'd feel the same if I asked her."

"So you're going to start looking again?" she asked.

He was quiet for a moment. "Being on the road, you know, it gave me a lot of time to think. Time to look at my life from the outside. Figure out what was making me happy and what wasn't. I worked some things out."

"Good," she said. "I think you needed that." It was why she'd made the suggestion in the first place, no matter how much she'd missed him.

"And I got to see a lot of people who'd had different lives before Crisis."

Her mouth fell open. "Did you vibe?"

He shook his head. "Mostly my powers are still gone. But every so often something did happen where I'd look at someone, and I'd see their other lives, and I'd see where the path - " He waved his hands. "Where they sort of branched. Where one version made one choice and another version made a different one.”

"Wow," she said, because she couldn't think of any other response.

"Like, it was all chance which version won out, you know? Sometimes they were living their best life and sometimes their worst one and - god, this was a mindfuck - sometimes they were living one that was just as good. It wasn't the same, but it was just as good."

"That's pretty wild."

"And you know, a lot of times it was down to the stupidest little things like whether they braked for a yellow or not. But sometimes it was something big, like deciding to marry someone or move or take a job."

She frowned at him. He was rambling, and she couldn't completely follow his train of thought. "Well, yes."

"I know, I know, life's like that sometimes. We all know that. But seeing it like that really made me think, you know, about all the big and little choices I've ever made in my life and how just changing one of them could have changed everything and, you know?"

"Y . . . es," she said slowly. She wasn't sure she did, but it seemed important to him.

"And then I started thinking how I've still got time. We've all got time, right? We've got all the time in the world until we're dead."

"That's a little morbid."

"I know! I know. But, like, we have all this time, right? But we just spend it doing all the things we always do, in this rut, complaining about our lives and not actually doing anything that might change them. And then we keep saying, what if, what if."

If she hadn't been with him for the past two hours, she would have suspected him of being a little drunk. Instead, she cocked her head. "Cisco, how long have you been awake today?”

"I slept on the train," he said. "But do you get what I'm saying?"

"I don't think I do." Her heart was thumping heavily in her chest, dark and slow with dread.

What if he wanted to leave Central City? Or even just Star Labs? He’d said he was home for good, but what if he’d just meant he was done with his tour? What if he wanted to take off all over the world?

He rubbed his hand over his hair and muttered, "Okay, I - okay. Look. I'm saying I missed you."

Well. That wasn't what she'd expected.

She tucked her hands in her pockets. "I missed you, too."

"You did?”

“Of course I did. You’re one of my best friends.”

“Friend,” he echoed. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Long time now.”

“What’s it been, eight years?”

“Something like that.”

“So of course I missed you.” She unlocked the front door of her building and held it open for him. “I’m glad you’re back.”

He put his hand on her arm, stopping them in front of the mailboxes. "Do you ever think about that? About how our lives would change if something was different?"

"Who doesn't?" She searched his face. "Cisco, what are you getting at, exactly?"

His mouth opened and closed for a moment, and then he let out a soft groan. Before Caitlin could do anything else, he'd taken her face in his hands and kissed her.

For some reason, the only thought in her head was that kissing a man with a beard was surprisingly nice. Or maybe it was kissing Cisco that was nice. More than nice.

Oh.

Cisco was kissing her.

He let go before she could get her jumbled thoughts in order and retreated a step or two. "Shit," he said. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just - like that - I - "

She grabbed his jacket and hauled, and he stumbled back towards her until she could kiss him back. He was much faster on the uptake than she was, and it was only a moment before his arms wrapped around her.

Sometime later, his forehead rested against hers. "So," he said, eyes closed, "that's okay then."

"Very much okay," she said.

His hands skimmed up her sides and then down. "Every time my phone buzzed I grabbed it. Hoping it was you.”

“So did I,” she whispered.

He smiled at her, eyes bright. “I know the timing is weird and bad. But it’s always been weird, bad timing with us. That’s why I never did this before.”

She found herself smiling goofily. “You wanted to do this before?”

“More than once. A lot of times.”

“So we have some catching up to do.” She kissed him again.

Someone cleared their throat, and Caitlin pulled away from Cisco to see one of her neighbors looking judgemental at her for making out with a strange man in the middle of the lobby. "I need to get my mail," she said.

“Sorry,” she lied to Mrs. Trainor, not sorry at all, and scooted a few steps down.

“Hey Mrs. T,” Cisco said.

She squinted at him. “Cisco? Is that you?" She'd seen him reasonably often, and Cisco was the kind of person who could chat amiably to neighbors that Caitlin had never said two words to.

“Yep. The beard threw you off, right? I’ve been traveling and it was easier than shaving every day.”

She looked a little mollified. “Well, welcome back.” She looked between them. “Nice to see the two of you finally got it together. Only maybe not in front of the mailboxes.”

Cisco snickered, and Caitlin elbowed him. “Sorry about that. We’ll get out of your way. Have a good night.” She grabbed Cisco's hand and tugged him toward the elevators.

He gave her a delighted look. “I think your neighbor’s been shipping us!” he whispered.

Caitlin hit the button. “And to think all this time I thought she just had the hots for you, asking about you so much.”

He snickered again. “No reason it can’t be both.” He turned serious. “So, I’m still staying?”

She blinked at him. “I said you could.”

“Yeah, but that was before,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. I can crash at Barry and Iris's place. Or get a hotel.”

She took that in and smiled. He knew as well as she did that inviting a man you’d just kissed into your home was a different thing than letting your friend stay for the night. “It’s fine,” she said as the elevator doors slid open. “I don’t feel pressured at all.”

He took her hand, smiling back. “Good. We can talk this out. Figure out how this is going to work. And then kiss some more.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” she said, hitting the button for her floor and sending him a coy look. “And if we both feel like it, maybe we can have some hot chocolate.”

FINIS

#Caitlin Snow #Cisco Ramon #killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #apologies for any inaccuracies #I haven't seen the latest episodes #the flash

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expression-in-its-essence · 5 years

Text

I just woke up from a VERY vivid dream.

It was about Lover secret sessions. No way it could've been reality lol I live in Asia.

I saw myself at a huge huge house with a bunch of other kids around the pool and busy taking photos. Taylor not being there but her people were. To keep things under control.

I made my way through like a startled 4yr old on her first day of school (we start school early where I live) and asked a bunch of girls in crop tops and jean shorts what was the procedure since I was given very little information about the whole thing. Just a location where I had to reach if I wanted to, and I did, with my brother. (Who in real life doesn't even live here.)

So as I went through the happy crowd, I was steered into this slightly open fence door (yes, the five-holes-in-the-fence fence but brown.) Her people left me there alone and said go ahead, we won't accompany you from now on. Just knock and get in the door over there. As I started to walk away, a woman said, wait up, let me give you this slip first. It had the date and the barcode and a holographic image and the logo of the lover secret sessions and some rules that I was supposed to read and sign. I didn't need to read because I knew it anyway. Leak any shit and Taylor would sue your ass. That's what.

Anyway. I took it and went in, and to my surprise, a few kids were in there as well. The very first thing that I saw upon entering was an open kitchen, and JOE WAS THERE. EXCUSE ME? Taylor still not in sight. So automatically I went over to him and said hi and asked him if he knew what I was supposed to do with the slip (because of the bar code) and he was like, yeah I guess her assistant is not here right now, wait I'll scan it. You've read it though right?

I was like, yeah, yes, phsssh I mean cmon.

So he did the thing and tore apart a piece with the serial number and an important stamp from the slip and handed it over to me.

Then he just whipped out some cleaning detergent and started cleaning the surface of the fridge. (Because helpful boyfriend. I didn't understand this bit myself. Maybe I fell asleep thinking about the cleaning I have to do myself lol) So I offered to do the scrubbing with him because I'm good at it (but it was really a way to get to talk to him about the three movies I've watched of him.) and he let me. He was like, well, you're here, go on, I don't mind. Clean the fridge if you want. And I was internally screaming IT'S NOT A FRIDGE. IT'S TAYLOR SWIFT'S FRIDGE.

I was in the middle of it when Taylor Allison Swift The Fairy Godmother Maker Of Cookies Mother Of Great Music herself came into the kitchen and was like hey what are you doing?? To which, before I could reply, Joe said, well your fans are in the house, if they are helping cleaning up the mess then that's good, right? (Writing this now, I'm realizing that it was a New Year's Day reference for sure.)

I cleaned up my hands and shook her hand and she was like is that all I get? with a pout and she hugged me like hug hugged me. Then she and Joe just stayed there talking to me and in the middle of a conversation about something I did (can't remember what) she asked Joe if he'd offered me any cookies yet. He was like omg I forgot. So she just twirled around, went and came back with a tray of chocolate chip cookies and rice krispie treats. Which I couldn't eat for a reason. The reason I'm not typing but my future self will know what it was.

Taylor was like oh sorry my bad it was a short notice thing but hey I'll pack you some you can take them home and eat after how about that. Of which I was grateful.

As I was wondering why I hadn't heard the album yet, she asked me over to the living room and we got our picture taken and we got back to the kitchen. She asked me to show up at a different location a few blocks away for the album because they did things fragmented to lower the chances of any harsh things. And then all of a sudden, she was like, oh my god. The bar code. Can you show me your slip? I totally forgot. I was like hey calm down Joe took care of that. She said yeah I got worried because you have to show that little piece of the slip for entrance identification at the next location, keep it safe.

And just like that it was time to go to meet again. It was then that I realized that when y'all said that she meets people, she does meet them. With time and love and no rush. I thanked her for the opportunity but she thanked me for showing up and I was like DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT YOU'RE TAYLOR SWIFT? WHEN TAYLOR SWIFT ASKS YOU TO DO SOMETHING YOU DON'T SAY NO. to which she smiled so big oh god for a while there were no problems in the world and the darkness subsided because of her radiant smile.

I came back through the fence and out of the crowded lawn to get out the main entrance and meet my brother in his car. He asked about the plan. I was like.. Um.. I still haven't heard the album and this is the location we have to go to next. He was like whUAt did you just say? Why did it take you so long in there then? I was like hey I never imagined that this would happen in my wildest dreams (ironic how it's still a dream) and it still is so please take me there. After a bit of convincing he agreed and off we went.

#lover #taylurking #taylor nation #taylor swift #taylor swift lover

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littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years

Text

Wildest Dreams

Summary: A New Year’s. A wedding reception. Two parties, set apart in time, spell a begining and an end in Emily’s life.

Rating: M - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Notes: Hello, everyone! I wanted to do a Nathan piece for weeks now, especially after The Big Reveal on TJ. My first attempt was ‘An Opera on Separation’, but Zig ended up worming his way there and it turned out to be less about Nathan and more about Emily getting over Nathan and ending up on the arms of Ziggy-Pop himself.

Then, last Thursday, I heard ‘Wildest Dreams’ by Taylor Swift while trying to come up for a new number for my dance crew and it really inspired me!

Oh, and a fair warning, this is NOT a part of ‘An Opera on Separation’ universe. This is a completely separate one-shot. Perhaps I ought to take a page from my fellow authors and change the MC’s name, but I tend to prefer the default name for reasons.

And I used the ‘An Opera on Separation’ taglist. Sue me.

Emily was leaning against a wall and wishing she was dead.

Who the Hell decides to break with someone just outside a Starbucks? On the day before Christmas Eve, no less?

Emily’s ex does.

She sighed once more. Her holidays were miserable over it, as her family expected her to bring her significant other to the feast. Showing up alone was right depressive.

Returning to work on the 26th hadn’t been any easier, as somehow the entire office building where she worked as a secretary ended up figuring out about her shameful break-up before lunch hour. That certainly thwarted her hopes of having at least half a day of peace.

Consequentially, all her colleagues insisted terribly for her to attend the building’s New Year’s Eve party, as a way to ‘get back on the horse’, so to speak.

She pushed back as hard as she could, but she ended up caving. She supposed she could hang around until ten or so, have some cheap liquor and leave to spend midnight the way God intended.

Drunk and alone on her bed.

What the young woman did not count on was the fact that the hours between eight and ten would be Chinese torture in form of a company gathering.

Everyone around her seemed to be drunk on the sad excuse for champagne the company had provided, and the friskier were coupling up in bizarre pairings, like Crystal, the sour receptionist, and Dan, the Porno King from accounting.

Those scenes of moral decadence only served to further Emily’s depression. Despite attending a prestigious university and having academic honours, she was stuck at the same dead-end job as the woman who seemingly collected chocolate wrappings on her desk drawer.

Corporate America was a soul-sucking monster and that girl was out of soul to give.

Feeling claustrophobic, the woman unlatched herself from her spot on the wall and walked over to the balcony for some air. The place was thankfully devoid of people, except for a blond guy who was smoking and leaning against the railing.

She considered leaving, but the idea of returning to the crowd was enough for giving her a small anxiety attack. No, if she hung out on the opposite end as him, perhaps he wouldn’t notice, or would pick up the cue and leave her be.

And it worked for a while, she could sit down on the dirty floor and stretch her aching legs. The man finishes his cigarette and picks another one from his suit jacket and tries to light it, to no avail.

He sighed loudly and seemed to curse under his breath. He, then, turned to her and said, amicably: “Hi-ya.”

She looks over to him and takes a moment to realize he’s talking to her. Then, she responds with a lazy: “Hey.”

“Do you have some fire?” He asks, rather supplicant. “My lighter seems to have given up on me.”

“No, sorry. Non-smoker.” The woman answers, still wishing for the man to go away.

“Such is my luck. Perhaps it’s a sign that I smoked way too much today. It’s a nasty habit, but I never had it in me to stop.” He snorts, anxious. “What brings you to the smoking area?”

She looked at him, confused. “This is the smoking area?”

“Yep.” He popped the p and pointed to the ash dispensers around the balcony. “I’ll go ahead and say you wanted a break from all that inside.”

The young woman sported a small side smile over the comment. “Pretty much. And to stay out of Crystal line of sight. After she’s done with Dan, she’ll have nothing else to lose.”

“Dan still works here?” The blond asks, more to himself, surprised. “I was sure he’d be fired after all the data leaking.”

“You and me both, pal.” She says, while sipping her beverage. “ The virus got into the system through one of his porn movies, after all.”

“I think whom you really should look out for is Marcia from HR. I saw her pulling a busboy into a closet some half an hour ago. That woman is insatiable!” The guy bemoans, well-humored.

Emily raises a well-kept eyebrow, throws a smirk and says: “You speak out of experience?”

He laughs. “Jesus, no. It wasn’t over her lack of interest, though.”

“How conceited!” She accused, smiling. “I’m Emily, by the way.”

He also smiled, charmingly. “Nathan. Nice to meet you.”

“Nathan? Like the boss?” She asks, curious.

“You know the CEO?” He responds, surprised.

She nods. “Well, yeah, I’m one of his secretaries.”

“Ah, cool.” He shakes his fair head. “Life-long dream of being a secretary?”

The statement was ridiculous enough to drag a loud laughter out of the girl. “No way. I’m a writer. Well, I was a writer.”

“What happened?” He asks, taking a seat next to her.

“It happened no one wanted to pick up my manuscript. Then I tried to self-publish, but that fell through pretty quickly.” She sighed. “After that, I decided to cut my losses and had a friend wire me with this gig. So here I am.”

He grimaces. “I’m sorry for that. If it makes you feel better, I always wanted to be an anthropologist, but my dad thought going on field studies resembled too much a vagabond lifestyle and argued that corporate law would be much more my speed. And so, here I am, and guess what?”

“What?”

“Corporate law sucks.” They laugh.

“It does make me feel a little better.” She pokes.

“Well, I’m glad my misery is amusing to you.” The man smirks with his shiny pearly teeth.

“What brings you to this disgrace of a party?” Emily asks, blunt.

“It was a pretty good excuse not to attend my parents’ disgrace of a party.” He responds with a shrug. “You?”

“Some of the girls at the desk thought it’d be depressing for me to spend New Year’s alone, so they nagged me until I agreed to come.” She throws back an offending lock of hair.

He hummed. “That may be the reasoning of most of the people in here tonight.”

“Damn year ending on a Wednesday.” She huffs. “I suppose it’s fitting. A mediocre year ending on a mediocre day.”

“I’d drink to that.” The blond echoes.

“Cheers!” She raises her lonely red cup.

Emily was going all out for that party later tonight. She had only just left the hairdresser’s and was ready for putting on the dress, which hung at her closet door for over a week in anticipation for tonight.

The piece had been handpicked. She’d much prefer a Paco Rabane, but the evening required some demure, and so she went with a blue-and-gold, slit on the leg, Gucci ball gown and a matching clutch. The also blue high heels disguised her short stature and highlighted her lean legs.

Finally, the jewellery. She was covered in diamonds, from his earrings, neck and hands, everything was adorned with pieces which sported the precious gem. Even her hair was held up with an encrusted pin.

She put on the luxurious outfit and sat down to do her makeup. Supposedly, she could have had it done at the beauty parlour, but she rarely liked the results when she let others do it for her. Not to mention, she was rather disgusted with the shared brushes and products.

No, she was a dextrous woman. She could do it herself.

First, the base on her cheeks, to disguise small acne scars, some sun damage and the insistent swelling from the past few days. Then, a smidge of blush, for a healthy colouring. Emily was way too pale for her own good.

Next, the eyes. Eyeliner and mascara would make her eyes pop against the white, and now unmarred, skin. Then the mandatory red lipstick, carefully applied to her full lips.

It was a night event, she could humour herself and splurge a little with the products and not look like a clown.

When she was finally done, she picked up the clutch and checked her money, phone and documents. Then, fetching the car keys, left for the party.

“Have these naval charts approved by Tuesday, and have my car picked up from the shop first thing in the morning.” The greying-haired man ordered with little as much as a look to the young woman standing by his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Sterling, sir.” She nods and writes down his commands at her planner.

“You may go now, Emily.” He dismisses, and the girl excuses herself.

Closing the door with care, she returns to her seat at the desk she shares with two other secretaries, Kate and Jess.

“I don’t know how you can deal with that dick and keep that stupid smile on your face.” Jess mentions with a sneer.

Emily shrugged. “I’m happy these days. It won’t be Mr. Sterling who’ll pop my bubble.”

Kate scoffs, her sixth sense for a good piece of gossip tingling hard. “Happy, right. Just the other day you’re lamenting on the corners because of what’s-their-name. When we’ll know the name of this ‘happiness’ of yours?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The other responds but couldn’t contain the smirk.

“Yeah, sure!” Kate shouts and points accusingly. “You totally smiled. Come on! Please, please, please!”

“No! Just drop it.” Emily said, good-naturedly.

“Kate, Emily’s entitled to her secrets.” Jess said, not as much to defend her as to get the other girl to sit quiet. Emily never could understand why, but Jess was never much of her fan.

“Fine.” She huffed in response. “Meanie.”

The three women finished their shift and parted ways at the company’s doorstep. Emily walked over to the subway station with a skip on her step. She did not lie when she said she was very happy to be brought down these days.

Life was much too good when you’re in love.

Reaching her modest one-bedroom apartment, she quickly changed her clothes and put herself to work. Her boyfriend would be stopping by later tonight, and would stay for dinner, so Emily had to whip out a first-class meal and clean up the place by nine.

Dating her boss’ son was something that the redhaired did not planned for, it just happened, and it certainly took some adapting. Their relationship had to be kept under wraps, lest Jess and the other employees think she’d receive preferential treatment.

But it was worth it. When Nathan said he was actually Nathan Sterling, III, it shocked her. She felt rather betrayed, as he kept that slight detail for over a month of going out, and the ‘no-telling rule’ was rather uncomfortable.

But Nathan was also a caring, loving boyfriend. He makes her feel like a princess every day he’s with her. He called or texted three times a day, just to check on her and talk about their day. He showered with gifts, ranging from the romantic, like flowers, to the lavish, like diamonds, to the thoughtful, like a first-edition of her favourite childhood book, ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’.

In the end, forfeiting bragging rights to Kate was a too small of a sacrifice. She loved Nathan, she wanted to be with him. Waiting until such time she could quit her miserable job for ‘coming out’ to her friends was absolutely worth it.

At exactly nine o’clock, a knock on the door jump-start Emily from the oven to skip over to the living room. She opens the door with a wide smile and says: “Hello!”

Nathan doesn’t say a thing, he prefers to let down the bags he’d been holding, picking up the woman by her waist and twirl her over the cramped living room, eliciting giggles from the redhead.

Reaching the middle of the room, he smiled broadly, kissed her nose and said: “Good evening, Emily. How you’re doing?”

“I’m fine. Better now.” She unwrapped herself from his arms. “Just sit down, I’ll finish dinner in a moment.”

“Great, I’m famished!” He says, boisterous. “By the way, I brought some wine.”

“I’ll grab the bottle opener.” She shouts from the kitchen.

Soon enough, Emily emerges with a carbonara, two glasses and a bottle opener and sets them on the table.

“And I brought another thing, as well.” The blond says, a wicked smile on his face.

The redhaired couldn’t help but smile over the man’s childish antics. “What is it?”

“Well, remember you said Tuesday you wanted to go out dancing?” He asks, but before she could answer, he continues. “I felt really guilty I couldn’t take you, BUT, I could bring an iPod and a sound box. So get ready, Em, ‘cause tonight we’re dancing on the hottest and most exclusive club in the city!”

Emily beamed at the surprise. She walks over to him and kisses him deeply, until them both are out of air. After they break apart, she says: “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He smirks and bends down to kiss her again.

She was up in the sky, and no-one would bring her down.

The party venue was a good two-hour drive from her place, across state lines. But it did not matter, Emily enjoyed driving on the highway, with the high speed cleansing her frustrations and the hustle-bustle of people driving across the land engaging her mind.

She enjoyed looking at the vehicles passing by, looking at the faraway license plates and conjecturing stories about its passengers, where they were going and from where they came.

The ferry that took her to Martha’s Vineyard was no less of an enjoyable experience, feeling the salty wind hitting her face and observing the great reddish-blue expanse of the ocean beyond the sound.

Once at the wealthy suburb, she drove to a small, wooded area near the country club. She decided to walk to the venue, her old, rusty and noisy Kia would certainly be too much of a difference from the imported, luxury cars that filled the valet service.

No, she was aiming a low profile that night, and that sky-blue old machine would not do.

The fifteen-minute walk from the gates to the main salon was harder than she expected, given the heels were less for movement and more for show. Her feet would remember this night tomorrow morning.

Emily reaches the ostentatious French doors at the club entrance and gives her invitation to the usher. The young man greets her with a smile and walks her over to her seat.

A server comes and offers her champagne, which she gracefully accepts a flute and made herself comfortable.

The party was about to start.

“Emily, please, say something.” Nathan pleaded, looking hurt at her while she just shrunk further within the couch. The woman was silently looking at the void for over fifteen minutes now.

“I think you should leave.” Emily complied, letting out the phrase in a hoarse voice.

He really wanted to fight, to scream, to stay and have her react. Even if it meant she would throw something pointy and hard at him.

But, in the end, the whole thing was breaking his heart as well and he was never one with high threshold for pain, so he complied to her wish and walked over to the door. Before stepping out, he turns back one last time and says: “Call me if you want to talk. Anytime.”

Emily did not respond. After Nathan shuts the door on his way out, she did not make a sound. She enjoyed the silence of the house, she noted the tiny steps of bugs in the kitchen, the dripping of raindrops on the windows and the leakage on the sink.

The first thought that hit her with some reasoning came who knows how later in the day, and it was a simple phrase.

Nathan’s engaged.

An arranged match, he said. Kassidy Marquez’s family controlled port infrastructure around the Gulf of Mexico, and it was a big move for a shipping company, as large as it was, still confined within the Northeastern Seaboard.

He came by that afternoon to tell her of his father’s decision, to have him wed the young girl. He confessed to know Kassidy from college, and to have casually dated her in the past, but assured Emily of his ‘undying love and devotion’.

Nathan also expressed his intentions to maintain a relationship between them, even on the event of his marriage.

She didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t think about it now. She was out of breath, like she was drowning in dry land.

She just wanted to draw the drapes and pretend she was dead.

“Oh my, Emily, you’re such a delight!” The older woman says, laughing of something the girl had said.

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Franklin.” The redhead smiled politely.

“What’s your relation to the couple, again?” The other wonders, remembering she had not been told.

“Oh, I’m a working colleague of the groom’s.” She responded. “Speaking of which, it seems they’re ready to have their first dance. Would you care to accompany me?”

“I’m much too old!” The woman complains, good-naturedly. “Go along! I’ll see them from over here.”

“Please, Mrs. Franklin, you’re much too youthful to call yourself old. But if you excuse me, I love this part of weddings.” Emily stood up and walks over to the dancefloor, blending in with the crowd watching the newlywed couple.

The bride was a looker, with her long black hair and tanned skin, a shine on her eyes like a blushing virgin, that freshness of going on to a new life. Her luxurious and pristine Vera Wang dress highlighted the posture of a young aristocrat and flew through the room like a curtain dancing on the wind.

But if we’re judging by appearance, the groom was the pretty one. He looked every bit like a fairy tale prince, with his tall and lean frame, white skin as if he had never met the sun in his life, and the blond hair combed backwards. The suit was midnight black, perfectly tailored overseas, and with sapphire cufflinks to give a finishing shine of upper crust.

They twirled through the room the whole fifteen minutes of Blue Danube in flawless grace, and without breaking a sweat. Soon after, they started the rounds through the guest tables, to receive the congratulations from the various guests.

A good hour later, when Nathan and Kassidy reach table 13, which contained the looser relatives on the Sterling family, they are greeted by the recently-widowed Great-Aunt Susett Franklin.

“Oh, my darlings!” She kisses each of their kisses, much to the displeasure of Kassidy. “Congratulations on the nuptials! It is such a wonderful adventure, and I hope yours to be filled with bliss and bounty.”

“Thank you, Aunt Susett.” Nathan says, politely. “How do you like the party? I hope you’re not feeling too alone out here.”

She laughs, dismissively. “Not at all! Emily has been keeping me in good company the entire party. Lovely girl, that one.”

Kassidy made a face. “Emily? I don’t remember an Emily at the guest list.”

“I don’t think you’ve met her, honey. She says she’s Nathan’s colleague, from work.” The older woman comments, in passing. “A shame you’ve come by just when she left to freshen up. She seemed so eager to congratulate you!”

A cold shiver shot through Nathan’s back. It couldn’t be, could it? After months of silence, she wouldn’t come to great lengths to attend the reception. However, he certainly did not know any other Emily, lest one who worked for him.

His ocean-blue eyes run through the venue, looking for that unmistakeable red hair.

And, then, he sees her.

She looked as beautiful as ever, with the dress and the accessories he had gifted her over the months of their relationship. But her eyes were different, they seemed dead and filled with tears.

She set her sights on him and seemed to pierce his soul with it and all he wanted to do was scream.

But it did not last long, as on the next second she turns around and leaves the party.

The blond muster some stupid excuse and dashes after her, not caring what anyone would think or say. He underestimates a seasoned woman on heels with a very good reason to run, as he couldn’t find her on the hallway by the salon, nor at the entrance hall to the country club.

Nathan would only be able to catch up under a willow, a short walk from the main gateway of the club. “Emily! Emily, wait!” He says, and reaches for her arm, pulling her close and forcing her to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“I came for the free booze. What do you think I was doing?!” The redhead shouts to his face. “I was torturing myself like the idiot I am.”

“You’re not an idiot.” He responded, severe. “Why didn’t you call me? I’d come to you.”

The woman scoffed, incredulous. “And drop your wedding?”

“I dropped it now, didn’t I?” He shoots her a side smirk, trying to dispel her hostility, to no avail.

“Don’t do that!” She shouts. “Don’t try to charm your way out of this. It won’t work.”

He sighed. “Okay. But I can honestly say I really missed you.”

“It. Won’t. Work.” She repeated.

The blue-eyed man shrugged. “It’s no trick, but believe what you want. Why you’re here?”

“I thought I needed to see it for myself.” She declared, her voice wavering. “Shock therapy, I guess. To force myself to let go.”

“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want it.” He looked pleadingly at the woman, who stood tense and straight like the willow next to them. “I love you. I want you. We can make this work if we really want to.”

“Look, Nathan, I get why you did what you did. I get that you left me for Kassidy, and that what we had wouldn’t have a future. But don’t ask me to be a part of your Boston Brahmin fantasy.” She shot him a look. “If you can’t be in it for the whole thing, at least let me find someone who is.”

The reality of things start to catch up to the young aristocrat. “So you’re just gonna leave? You’re abandoning me?”

“You left first, Nathan.” She coldly accuses. “You left me all those months ago when you said you’d be marrying Kassidy. And I’m not going down with the ship, I’m sorry.”

The blond start taking steps backwards, trying to focus his eyesight, blurred by the pain he felt on every muscle of his body.

Seizing the opportunity to leave, Emily looks back at him and says: “I really loved you, you know?”

“I know.” He manages to respond. “I love you, too.”

“I truly hope Kassidy makes you happy.” She said with a melancholic smile on her face.

“She won’t.” He responded, but the redhead had already left.

Emily ran the rest of the distance to her car, where she hastily took off every piece of jewellery and tried to clean off the make-up, ruined by the tears.

When she calmed herself minimally, she started the engine and drove away.

Taglist: @alicars; @boneandfur; @choicesfannatalie; @diamond-dreamland; @emerald-bijou; @kennaxval; @liamxs-world; @lizeboredom; @mfackenthal; @mrsdrakewalkerblog; @radiantrosemary; @topsyturvy-dream

#the freshman #nathan sterling

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mrswearword · 7 years

Video

youtube

In “honor” of this video’s premiere at the VMAs, let me go open season on this petty bitchfest.

The lead single from sssssssssinger/ssssssssssssssongwriter/SSSSSSSSNEK joke Taylor Swift’s upcoming album Reputation. Let’s get this out of the way right now. All of this “beef” with Katy Perry over backup dancers is some misguided PR stunt to combat the media attention in pitting female artists against one another. Or at least it better be because if “Swish Swish” was indeed a diss track against Swift and “Look What You Made Me Do” is indeed the response song, they’re both petty, childish, inept excuses for women in the music industry.

Especially ol’ SNEK Wrangler herself, Swift if the best she can do in this petty pissing contest is an immature chorus of “Look what you made me do”. Yeah, apparently at some point she was considered a sharp lyricist. Time flies when you’re so full of shit, the toilet is suing you for copyright infringement.

“Petulant utterance no one above the age of 13 should use” at least in production terms is legitimate pop ground Swift is experimenting with; having her music sound as juvenile and as near psychotic for no reason as apparently, she is over a bunch of fucking backup dancers that you can replace is weirdly fitting or “on brand”. The first few lines read as “I don’t like your little games/Don’t like your tilted stage/The role you made me play; as the fool/no I don’t like you”. She actually sings “No, I don’t like you.” Being blunt is one thing but what the hell made her think this was acceptable as a lyric? Again, she has apparently been considered as a great lyricist among her peers cough, BULLSHIT, cough cough. One line in particular which had two major fandoms in Kanye stans and Little Monsters think this song [or this line] was about Kanye or Gaga was “I don’t like your tilted stage”. Leave it to human Twitter stan, Zachary Campbell to point out that Katy [who this song is about, release date of Reputation be damned] had tilted stagework for her Superbowl Halftime performance. Reexamine the lyric video for “I don’t like your little games” and “don’t” is a knight or a black horse or in context…a “Dark Horse”. What could potentially give away the fact that this was a PR stunt gone awry or at least should give it away is the lyric “The role you had me play; of the fool” with emphasis on “The role you had me play”. It’s more than likely that Taylor is trying and failing miserably at making a larger point as a woman in the music industry, specifically with women being pitted against each other in the music industry. Perhaps, she and Katy are in on the whole thing and this manufactured beef was supposed to teach us all that pitting artist against artist over backup dancers is pointless and that blah blah look at the lyrics for these two and see if they actually had the ability to make this a larger picture about women in the industry.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Swift continues to petulantly write out “I don’t like your perfect crime/How you laugh when you lie/you said the gun was mine; isn’t cool”. To Swift, all I ask is what perfect crime did Katy commit, if all this feuding boils down to is you looking petty over expendable tour personnel? If the worst she ever did was refer to you as “the Regina George in sheep’s clothing” on Twitter, why the hell have you actively come out taking verbal swipes at her years later in a song for your upcoming release which will more than likely be a mediocre at best album? The remaining lyrics here are probably vanilla, trite and vague jabs at the court of public opinion or something of the sort.

Then, the lyrical pyrite from Swift’s amygdala controlled pen gets worse. The pre-chorus reads “But I got smarter/I got harder/in the nick of time/Honey, I rose up from the dead/I do it all the time/I got a list of names/and yours is in red, underlined/I check it once/then I check it twice…ooh” cracks knuckles oh boy, is there a lot wrong with how these lyrics present themselves from someone more pissed at some other singer for using backup dancers instead of say; Kim Kartrashian or Kanye West for the Snapchat incident no matter how much of a two-faced bitch she ended up coming across. First, let’s take a look at “I got smarter/I got harder/in the nick of time” which only makes sense when you consider her putting her catalog of 6-9 actual good songs and dozens of other middling shit back on Spotify the day Katy Perry’s album Witness was released. Yeah, Swift was smarter in releasing “Look What You Made Me Do” the same day Katy’s video for Swish Swish was released. All these moves made “in the nick of time” were apparently to spite Katy again, for using backup dancers. Hey Taylor, want to spite Katy Perry of all people with minimal effort? Show her pictures of your Grammy awards and MOVE ON.

Second, there’s the line of “Honey, I rose up from the dead/I do it all the time”. The only death she went through was well after 1989 had wrapped up and Kim Kartrashian’s Snapchat videos of Kanye calling her about the “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex” line in “Famous” and her trying to weasel her way out of saying it’s OK to use but then be all pretentious Grammy speech that means nothing given the circumstances. Coming back from that, months later after relatively keeping her mouth shut about a lot of things isn’t that frequent for her. Alas, here she is acting like a fucking phoenix from the ashes of losing out on acclaim for her album and era all because of Snapchat videos. Keep in mind, she still won the Album of the Year Grammy for 1989 in spite of SNEKgate. Third, “I got a list of names/and yours is in red, underlined”; bitch, who the fuck are you fooling acting like you’re The Bride from Kill Bill about to kill Vernita Green or O’Ren Ishii? Have several seats. The other line not dissected still sucks but what’s next is the petulant as fuck chorus.

“Look What You Made Me Do/Look What You Made Me Do/Look What You Just Made Me Do, Look What You Just Made Me…ooh” is already a poorly written chorus but probably just sanitized enough for Swift because she couldn’t sell “you got me so fucked up” or anything that could be considered well written in this mood of hers. Then, there’s the second set of lyrics which are less directed at Perry and more sounding like vague-posting on Facebook [or “vague-booking”] about someone who did her wrong. Well, at least after the contradictory lyric “I don’t like your kingdom keys/they once belonged to me”. So, if they were your keys to your kingdom, how did she get them but you still hate them…oh wait, it’s a shit lyric so who cares. Then, the vague-booking lyrics kick in; “You asked me for a place to sleep/locked me out/and threw a feast”. Two words to solve this problem; SPARE KEYS. What proceeds to be sung next is all this “My karma’s gonna run over your dogma” bumper sticker bullshit which begs the question…you’re really choosing to be this petty to someone and it’s apparently not a publicity stunt? Over backup dancers? REALLY?!

The bridge for this song further drives this manufactured tiff over the edge when she histrionically sings “I don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me/I’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams” four times in a row [someone please tell me where the hell the alleged lyrical genius of Taylor Swift is if she can’t deliver lyrics better than a double negative and a high fallutin’ way of saying nightmare] before delivering a spoken word declaration so wannabe teenage angst ridden, Lorde should sue her for plagiarism. “I’m sorry, the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, ‘cause she’s dead.”

What else is that spoken word portion supposed to prove other than that aggression delivered by Taylor Swift reads as girl drama over nothing. Hell, the “oh, ‘cause she’s dead” bit sounds like her pulling that from her ass in the middle of recording it. “I need to explain why old Taylor isn’t coming to the phone…” “Taylor, we’re recording this” “…OH ‘CAUSE SHE’S DEAD.” “Fuck it, we’ll keep that in anyway.”

Overall, Taylor Swift’s latest stunt is a disgraceful, vindictive, bitchy effort which smears the reputation of every female songwriter past and present and upcoming if they’re dumb enough to listen to this and get songwriting inspiration. Then again, this is the same manic lunatic dumb enough to pull her catalog from Spotify when streaming was starting to count in music sales all in the name of “artist representation”. This is the same publicity craving stunt queen who once used her fans to improve upon her “can do no wrong” image in the name of Christmas present reaction videos on YouTube. This is the same person who takes after Lena Dunham’s interpretation of feminism which apparently means “anyone who doesn’t like what I do must clearly not be a feminist.”

The video itself? Empty gloss, self-deprecating humor that only worked on “Shake it Off” and Taylor acting like her videos have that many memorable looks. A 1/10 just like the song itself.

#Taylor Swift #Look What You Made Me Do #LWYMMD #Katy Perry #Petty Drama #Pop Singer Drama #VMAs #2017 #2017 VMAs #MTV #MTV VMAs

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gleefuldarrencrissfan · 7 years

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Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Characters: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, Rachel Berry, Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman, Santana Lopez, Sue Sylvester, Brittany S. Pierce, Artie Abrams, Carmen Tibideaux, Jesse St. James, Quinn Fabray, Sam Evans, Mercedes Jones, Kitty Wilde, Sebastian Smythe, Jake Puckerman, Marley Rose, Ryder Lynn, Will Schuester, Emma Pillsbury, Coach Beiste Additional Tags: Competition, Reality TV, Alternate Universe, Eventual Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson & Sam Evans Friendship, Kurt Hummel & Rachel Berry friendship, Duet, Slow Burn Summary:

Chapter 12

"Blaine searched the house frantically for Sam, checking every room to find the kind-hearted blonde. He finally found him, strumming his guitar while leaning against the fence.“What’s that you’re playing?” Blaine asked, with a small smile.“Uh, don’t laugh,” Sam frowned. “It’s ‘Mean’ by Taylor Swift. Sorry I took off. I told myself that I wouldn’t let him get under my skin like that, but he kinda brought up a sore spot.”Blaine nodded. “I get that. I’m sorry, Sam. We can talk about it, if you want to.”Sam shook his head. “Thanks, but it’s hard to talk about. I don’t even know how he found out about that. It was a couple of years ago. I’m not stupid, you know,” he said, laying down his guitar.“I know that, Sam,” Blaine assured him with a pat on the shoulder. “I struggled in school, due to my dyslexia, but I tried really hard. Dad hired me a tutor, and I passed most of my classes. Then, my senior year, dad was laid off. We couldn’t afford the tutor, and I got a job to help my dad with extra expenses. That’s when my grades slipped”. A tear slid down his cheek. “I took the SAT’s when I was trying to hold two jobs and keep my grades up. I fell asleep on my test document. We couldn’t afford the test again. I have a brother and sister, and they needed shoes and clothes. I couldn’t get a scholarship with my grades, so I just decided that college wasn’t for me.” Blaine just nodded and patted his hand. “Sam, it’s ok. All families have rough times.”“Dad got another job after six months, but we had already lost the house. That’s when I got the stripping job. I never told my parents the truth. They didn’t realize I was stripping. They thought I was working at Dairy Queen and delivering pizzas.”“You didn’t seem ashamed of stripping,” Blaine stated. “It was the remark about being a loser, wasn’t it?” “I’m not ashamed of the stripping gig, but my parents would be. I want my Father to say he’s proud of me, and so far, he can’t be. I have nothing to really show for all of his hard work. I didn’t make it to college. I haven’t gotten a modeling gig yet, no girlfriend, nothing. I moved here hoping to land a modeling gig, but I could barely afford the head shots.”“I understand that. My brother is an actor.”“Seriously? Has he been in anything I know?”“He’s landed a few commercials. I guess the most notable one is the ‘Free Credit Rating Today’ one.”“Slash savings! That’s your brother?” Sam grinned. “I should’ve known. You look like him. I bet your parents are proud of him.”“Yeah, Cooper’s the success story, according to my Father. High school football star turned tv star. Although they wish he would settle down already, he talks about him like he’s the perfect son. And Cooper refers to himself that way as well. I’m the short, gay child that can’t do anything right, even though I was valedictorian, belonged to twenty-three clubs, and lead soloist of my glee club. None of that mattered. It kills my dad that he’s the father of that gay kid in the Glee Club.”“I’m sorry man. Is that why you came out here?” Sam inquired.“Yeah. I live with Coop. He can be critical sometimes, but at least he doesn’t ignore me or remind me what a disappointment I am,” Blaine sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be cheering you up.”“You have. It let’s me know I’m not alone,” he said, patting Blaine on the shoulder. “My parents are proud of me, but I just I just feel like I’m going to fail before I even begin. I thought life in the big city would be fun, but everything just moves so fast. I can’t keep up. I’ve been here for six months, and I haven’t really landed any gigs yet. I had offers to do some low budget movies, but those turned out to be gay porn,” he chuckled. “This was a last attempt. I figured if I got on the show, I’d have some free advertising, and maybe I could endorse something after the show,” Sam stated. “It’s got to be better than the gigs in the club, moonlighting as ‘White Chocolate’. ”“Man, I get it. I’ve performed at theme parks during the summer to make extra money, and it was humiliating. And hot. Those suits they make you wear are stuffy,” he chuckled. “But hey, you made it this far. This is exposure.”“Hey, I’m good at that,” Sam laughed. “Not that kind of exposure, Sam.” Blaine laughed. “I do need to talk to you about something. About Sebastian.”“That guy is a jerk,” Sam huffed.Blaine looked solemnly at Sam. “That jerk is our new roommate,”“What?! How did that happen?” Sam asked, a little louder than he intended..“He got kicked out by his roommates,” Blaine explained.“I’m sure they had plenty of justification for that,” he yelled. Sam stood up and leaned in toward Blaine, looking him right in the face. “How could you agree to let that jackass room with us? You heard the way he talked to me. I can’t agree to that,” he shook his head.“Sam you don’t understand,” Blaine attempted to explain, but Sam cut him off. “I promised Kurt I wouldn’t let Sebastian mess with you, but I can’t do that if you allow him to be in our room. You’ve seen all the trouble he’s tried to stir already, and it’s only been a few days. I’m already stuck singing with him for the next duet. I can’t room with him too!”“Sam!” Blaine tried to place his hand on Blaine’s shoulder, but Sam jerked away. “No Blaine. There’s a bed free in Artie’s and Finn’s room. I’m going to go check with them,” Sam shouted as he stormed into the house and slammed the door.

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