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#1989 week
whatiwillsay · 7 months
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live on the patreon now!!! torry joins me to go through all the 1989 girl squad and we discussed if they’re still friends with taylor, were they ever actually friends with her, did they maybe hook up with her, and what was that big fight with katy perry really about???
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ilostyou · 7 months
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stood-onthecliffside · 11 months
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cover
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album making (video)
promo
(physical)
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(digital)
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brand collaboration
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merch website
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1989 (taylor's version) : an experience imagined
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teejaystumbles · 25 days
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Against all odds (part 6)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5
@tryan-a-bex
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I will not let you fall again.
Dream let's Hob gently sink into the deeper, dreamless areas of sleep and watches his dream of the White Horse slowly disperse. What remains are the stains of blood on his fingers and the sweetness of strawberry on his lips. Slowly, Dream lifts his stained fingers to his mouth and tastes his friend's offering. A shiver runs through him when the warm, metallic taste hits his tongue and he clenches his other hand into a fist to contain his emotions.
What a thing to do, to offer him all this and mean it. Foolish, and dangerous.
Dream should not be surprised. After all the things Hob has written and told him his affection for Dream is obvious. Still. To declare his devotion like this, here in Dream's realm where Hob's subconscious might be truthful but still prone to exaggeration… let's just say that Dream is wary of how this offer will hold up in what Hob considers to be the real world. Hob must have read his journal entry by now. The urge to offer Dream food and comfort surely stems from it. Dream will not hold his friend to a pledge made while dreaming, at least not without further acknowledgement in the Waking.
Would it be hasty to assume Hob might have written an answer already? 
Dream is not proud of how abruptly he stopped writing and left Hob with the equivalent of a loaded gun to the heart without even a goodbye, as if he had meant to write more. He had, but hadn’t been able to muster the strength to pick up the pen again after finally voicing his fear about what Hob will think of him once he knows his name. Dream had dropped the book back at Hob’s flat in haste before he succumbed to the urge to rip out the entire entry once more.
Silently Dream steps out of the Dreaming and into Hob’s bedroom. The man lies asleep on his bed, his breathing calm. Nothing short of a very loud noise will wake him now, so Dream should be safe to take a look at the journal. He steps towards the desk where the book lies open. A few lines are indeed newly added underneath Dream’s abruptly ended entry.
Dream’s eyes widen as he reads the words of his friend, hastily scrawled as if he had hurried to put his thoughts to paper in a rush of emotion.
“You are more dear to me than anyone else.” “All I need is you, and our conversations.”
Dream shakes as he reads and rereads Hob’s short few lines. It seems his friend is not finished writing and Dream regrets coming here to read this prematurely. But what if Hob wakes up and decides to rip out this bit, like Dream tore two pages from the book? His first two attempts had not been much different from what he had finally written but his resolve to lay himself bare before his friend had wavered several times in the beginning. After starting to write for the third time Dream had simply forced himself to continue and face Hob’s reaction to such honesty with as much grace as he would be able to muster.
What if Hob wakes up and is afraid he’s gone too far, that Dream will react unfavourably to his ardent declaration of friendship? He cannot allow that.
He picks up the pen and writes.
My dear Hob,
I thank you, for your reassurance, and your offer of comfort and help. I do not feel deserving of such a good friend as you are.
Dream falters, unsure of what to write. He opts for putting down exactly that. He feels like by now this is what writing these entries is about, to simply let his thoughts flow to the page as if he were talking to Hob. Except that this is somehow easier than talking.
I confess I do not know what to say. I feel like I have run out of words to put down, after my last entry. Perhaps it is no wonder, I am interrupting your unfinished answer, after all. Please forgive my hastiness, I simply wanted to make sure you did not feel your last entry was not appreciated. On the contrary, you have taken a weight off my chest with your words.
I miss the quiet comfort of your company, my friend, and therefore I beg your forgiveness if I stay at your side for a few minutes, while you sleep and are unaware. I promise to never harm you in any way that I can control, not on purpose, but I will of course not bother you in the future if this breach of your privacy is uncomfortable to you. 
I would like to meet you soon, when you are awake. I will let you know when I am ready. May I rely on your experience to choose a suitable place? Preferably not indoors. Thank you.
He hesitates for a moment but then signs, With affection, your friend.
Dream puts down the pen and then slowly sits down on the edge of Hob’s bed, the mattress not moving under him at all as he has decided to not distribute any weight to his form so he won’t disturb his friend. He indulges himself and lets his gaze linger on Hob’s familiar features, face slack in sleep. Hob’s hair is about the same length it was in 1889. It forms a tangled dark halo under his head, still slightly sticky with some kind of oil or cream Hob seems to have put in it. Dream preferred his friend’s hair loose and longer, thinking back on their last few meetings. He remembers longing to brush his friend’s hair in 1689, when he looked so terribly unkempt. Dream also remembers seeing his friend’s lush chest hair for the first time that night. It had been something he had been quite fascinated with, a morsel of personal information he had stored away for later perusal. Now Dream eyes his friend’s sleeping form curiously, taking his time to commit what he can see to memory - Hob’s strong nose and beard shadow, the length of his dark lashes, the dark hairs peeking out of his shirt collar and covering his naked forearms, curling around his slender wrists-
Hob shifts and sighs in his sleep and Dream startles. Quietly he gets up and steps away from the bed. What is he doing, watching his friend sleep? Surely Hob will answer that he finds that kind of behaviour weird, unseemly even. Dream shouldn’t have done it. He shakes his head, annoyed with himself, and goes back to his realm. There is always work to be done.
**
Hob wakes up with the unsettling feeling that he dreamed of something very important, but he can’t remember what it was. He groans and buries his face in the pillows. His head, and weirdly his tongue, hurts. He moves it around a bit in his mouth. Yeah, he definitely bit himself in his sleep. What the fuck?
He sits up and his eyes fall on the open journal. He left it like that last night, but the pen… the pen has been moved to lie neatly above the journal. Hob knows he left it on the side, or in the middle of the pages even. He’s not that tidy.
Hob scrambles out of bed and picks up the book. There are new words in his stranger’s cursive, small handwriting. He reads it two times, then once more for good measure. His stranger has been here? He has been watching Hob sleep?
“My dear Hob.”
“I miss the quiet comfort of your company.”
“I would like to meet you soon.”
“With affection, your friend.”
Hob feels himself shiver and his skin break out in goosebumps. Then he feels heat rush through him and hurriedly he puts down the journal and goes to take a long and relieving shower. 
His mind is all over the place for the rest of the day. Hob cannot stop thinking about what this change in tone might mean for him and his friend. He won’t deny that he has been yearning for this, this gentleness, the quiet understanding and open show of affection Hob never dared let himself hope for too much. His friend likes him! Even if it’s meant in a strictly platonic way, there is no doubt any longer that his stranger cares for Hob. That he likes being with him. Every time the realisation hits him he has to swallow back tears of joy and one time even excuse himself from a meeting to punch the air and grin stupidly at himself in the bathroom mirror. This century is finally turning out for the better, he thinks.
Part 7
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andsjuliet · 7 months
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nace week 2023 day 3 → taylor swift ships nace (or other song lyrics)
nace playlist this love → taylor swift
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diiambee · 6 months
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if the multiverse and aus of aus exists this means theres an au out there where they stay happy (clawing at the curtains)
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Aftertale sans/s (?) belongs to @loverofpiggies
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mayalovestay13 · 24 days
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3 day till Tortured Poets
(Well technically 2 now 😏)
@taylorswift @taylornation
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aberooski · 1 month
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GX10
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Meet them at midnight...
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docwormie · 6 months
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Starmania iceberg, done in collaboration with fellow starmaniacs on our starmania discord server !! we tried to go from well-known/obvious facts to more obscure references. How many of these do you know ?
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poptastrophe · 29 days
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suburban legends ;; taylor swift
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septembersghost · 7 months
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x*com/swifferupdates/status/1711078343146410046?s=20
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this is wild
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rachelhankeart · 6 months
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I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it
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latebloomerdivine · 7 months
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The autumn bisexual urge to binge watch the holy Nora Ephron trilogy and imagine an alternate reality where I get to kiss 90s Meg Ryan on the mouth
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lunar-years · 7 months
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i feel like there are two sides to swiftie lunacy and on the one side you've got the people who accuse her of lying about when songs were written, pick apart every artistic decision she makes to the point where it's very unclear whether they ever actually liked her writing and music to begin with, make up weird excuses to criticize every person she's seen with, and generally behave like they despise everything about her despite parroting as a "fan" running a stan account. and then on the other hand you have the people who will burn other fans at the stake and rip you to shreds for like. saying her merch prices are ridiculous and the stuff is cheap quality. or listening to the vault tracks first instead of the album in order. or daring to listen to a cd you bought in 2014. because "ThAt'S NoT wHAt TayLOr WAnTS!!!!" Like.....what if we all tried being normal.....
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linda-rose · 7 months
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something about taylor reclaiming the ENTIRE 1989 rollout with the album. the cover, the CD polaroids, even the handwritten lyric countdown....UGH ❤️
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vmpkai · 1 month
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the heathers movie is something crazy like actually
tw: guns, suicide mention, murder, death
i finally got around to watching the movie the other day and all i gotta ask was did anybody actually care about what was happening?
jd pulls out a gun in the middle of the cafeteria and nobody seemed phased after a while.
kurt and ram. . . i don't even wanna say what they did but everyone was just so chill about them. cuz it ain't like what they did was a secret or anything-
veronica kills people with jd and seems only mildly inconvenienced by it all like girl-
whenever they found out someone died, the general reaction was "oh no! anyways-"
LIKE EVEN VERONICA'S MUM LOW-KEY BRUSHED OFF HER DAUGHTER WHEN SHE THOUGHT SHE HUNG HERSELF LIKE MISS MA'AM WHY ARE YOU SO NONCHALANT? THATS YOURE KID
y'all hear an explosive go fucken' BOOM and then a fucken burnt up, bloodied and bruised veronica walks in and no one even batted an eye???
look, i get it, it's ohio. that place was built different. it's also the late 80s, shit was crazy back then. but there was no way in hell that they could just act like this shit was another tuesday and walk like shit wasn't happening.
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