#This profile is the most Taylor profile that I’ve read in a bit

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I feel like this profile really got Taylor’s essence and portrayed it accurately.

#taylor swift #major props to Sam for writing her as she is #very little of the author themselves #This profile is the most Taylor profile that I’ve read in a bit

[xoxodiluc]

tell me that i’m all you want, even when i break your heart | diluc ragnvindr ( genshin impact ) x female! reader

genre angst

summary y/n l/n, a member of the fatui who preferred keeping a low profile, unexpectedly becomes close to the darknight hero who happens to be the rich tycoon, diluc ragnvindr, later falling in love with him when she shouldn’t.

cw fatui! reader, spoilers if you haven’t read the genshin webtoon, spoilers for inazuma quest act III - duel before the throne (!!!), mentions of fighting, mentions of death | not proofread. no beta we die like hilichurls / i don’t think i’ve understood or researched enough about the connection of the fatui and diluc, so please let me know if i made any mistakes!

notes the title of this oneshot is from taylor swift's song "afterglow"! i just thought the lyric fits well with this work :) idek what this is tho

As a member of the Fatui, you are to serve the Tsaritsa and follow the orders of the Fatui Harbingers.

After your superior, La Signora, was killed by the Raiden Shogun in Inazuma, you were stationed back to Mondstadt. Some of your comrades wanted so badly to seek revenge after Signora's death, but you couldn't care less.

She was just your superior that you take orders for. Now that she's gone, she's nothing. You only ever cared about getting the job done and never concerned yourself with your personal feelings.

Now, you have yet to be a subordinate to one of the Harbingers left.

What you hated the most about in Mondstadt is staying at the Goth Grand Hotel. Sure, it was luxurious and you had your own room, but the Fatui agents were annoying, brawling about who owed them money for wine. Every time. It was stupid.

Another brawl happened once again, and this time you have had it — so you left the hotel at midnight.

You had a coat draped over your Fatui uniform when you left, and thankfully most of the people were already asleep, only leaving the Knights of Favonius to guard.

They were about to stop you from leaving till you showed them your Fatui insignia, and that was enough for them to back off.

After wandering around Mondstadt for a bit, you discovered a mysterious man and a few hilichurls lying in defeat beneath him. You quickly walked away when he turned around, but he noticed you before you could escape.

"Hey, stop. Show yourself."

You mentally cursed. You knew better than to escape now. You displayed a calm expression before you turned to face him. He had a mask so you didn't know his identity.

…And you realized you forgot your mask in your hotel room. Shit.

You took a good look at him, and you could almost recognize the red hair, but you weren't sure since the moon was the only source of light at the moment.

"Who are you?" He asked suspiciously. You didn't want to tell him that you were a part of the Fatui — you knew how much people hated the fatui — so you lied.

"…Just a wanderer from Snezhnaya."

Seeing as you weren't much of a threat, he nodded and headed off, not bothering to tell you who he was.

The red hair was familiar, though.

After a few days, you found yourself wandering Mondstadt late at night once again as you couldn't sleep.

You sat on a rock and heaved a sigh. Moments later, you heard someone panting nearby, so you decided to follow the sound cautiously.

Some guy was leaning against a tree, head hanging low as he held onto his arm. You tried to hide to look at the person’s face but to your dismay, you accidentally stepped on a leaf, making a rustling noise.

He raised his head in alarm, then he saw you. "…It's you."

It was Diluc Ragnvindr — you realized at that moment he was the 'Darknight Hero' everyone was talking about. He wore the same outfit from a few days ago, except he didn't have his mask on.

And you forgot to wear your mask once again!

Your eyes widened when you saw his injured arm, which explained why he was holding onto it earlier. "You're hurt… Hold on." Thankfully, your vision could provide healing. You walked up to him, offering to tend to his wounds.

He seemed hesitant for a moment, but he agreed and lent you his arm. After that, he cleared his throat. "Thank you. I suppose I could treat you to a drink at Angel's Share as a token of appreciation," Then he added, "As long as you keep my identity a secret, I don't want anyone finding out what I do during these hours."

As a Fatuus, could you really be involved with him? "...Sure, and of course, I won't tell anyone."

Since that night, you started getting close with Diluc. You did a great job at not being seen by the other Fatui what you've been up to during your spare time.

Always accompanying him during his late night duties, or sometimes when he was the one in-charge at Angel's Share, you'd just sit and talk to him while he was making drinks for customers. You knew it was risky, this whole friendship you're developing with Diluc.

You never knew what history he had with the harbingers, all you knew that the Fatui declared him to be 'persona non grata' in Snezhnaya, and you haven't even told him you were a member of the Fatui.

The thought of telling him scared you, because it's been so long since you made a new friend.

But being in the Fatui, did you really deserve to have a friend? A friend who despises the organization you're in?

"I like you." Diluc blurted out, and you froze.

After helping him fight off enemies in the city late at night, you were both resting on Starsnatch Cliff and he just blurted his feelings out.

This is wrong.

"I… I know this is a sudden confession, and I apologize but I just couldn't help it."

This is so wrong... because you like him too.

"I like you too, Diluc."

You looked at him, and you were surprised by the look he gave you. He looked aloof most of the time, but the way he looked at you... it was soft. And it was killing you.

Well… As long as you kept your identity a secret, right?

He smiled and kissed your forehead gently, and you both enjoyed each other's silence.

For the first time, you felt incredibly happy when you and Diluc started dating (secretly).

You always hung out with him whenever he was on his shift at angel’s share (and he would steal a few kisses here and there whenever people weren’t looking… which was always successful. he just couldn’t resist you), and sometimes he would even invite you to his manor.

The past few weeks truly felt like a dream.

But you almost forgot dating him had consequences… like Mikhail finding out when he saw you and Diluc holding hands secretly in the city at night.

“What the hell are you even thinking?! That man is hated by our superiors! Does he even know you’re part of the Fatui? Because once he finds out you might get— tch!” Mikhail was angry; Lyudmila shielded you to prevent him from trying to hurt you.

“No. He doesn’t know.”

Mikhail let out a frustrated sigh. “You have to break it off with him.”

‘I can’t…’ you wanted to say, but you can’t.

So you made up your mind to tell your lover.

You had no choice.

You didn’t know the reason why he hates the Fatui so much… but you knew it was something bad enough that when you brought up topic to him, he said he’d rather be crushed to death by a meteorite than join them.

“Diluc, I have something to tell you.” You were at his manor, and he was currently cleaning up his desk.

“What is it?” He looked at you, smiled, and your heart broke at the sight, “Is there something wrong?”

You were silent for a moment, but before he could respond, you said, “…I’m a member of the Fatui.”

Diluc’s face hardened when you finally told him. He let out a breathy laugh as if you were trying to pull out a ridiculous prank on him.

But when he examined your face to see if you were joking, he realized you weren’t.

“You’re what?”

“I’m sorry, Diluc, I—“

“I didn’t ask for your apology. Why— Archons—“ He felt betrayed. His heart dropped. “So you approached me to what? To spy on me? Is that it?”

“No… no! I didn’t!” On the verge of tears, you tried reaching out to him but he moved away. “I was only stationed here… I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was—“

“You should’ve told me the first time we met, so then I would’ve been smart enough to avoid you.” The look of love he gave you a while ago, turned into hatred. “My father… the Fatui was connected to the reason why he died and I… I can’t believe you—“ he gulped, trying so hard not to cry.

Tears welled up your eyes as you covered your mouth, “I’m sorry… Diluc, I—“

Before you could see the tears in his eyes, he turned away and whispered, “Get out.”

“Diluc—“

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You held in your sobs as you left the manor, and once you were far enough, you cried.

Was there any point in explaining yourself when you already broke his heart?

notes idk if i should make a part two lol ..

xoxodiluc © 2023 | all rights reserved. do not claim as your own, modify, copy or repost.

#♡.heather's writings #♡.sfw #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc imagines #diluc #diluc x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #Spotify #genshin angst #diluc angst #genshin impact angst

[lilpixielixie]

CHAPTER ONE: Delicate | hwang hyunjin x fem! reader

"This ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me"

- Delicate, Taylor Swift

Summary: Moving to Seul wasn't something that Selene expected to do, but her broken heart and tired soul were craving for peace. She didn't even think too much about it: she simply saw an opportunity that would let her hide from the media and Hollywood for some time and took it. However, she will have to make a decision by the end of the year and she hopes that, when the time comes, the same world that was hating on her right now would forget everything. Maybe she wasn't meant to be an actress, but she was sure she wasn't meant to be loved. At least, that was what she thought before meeting an idol who wasn't treating her like a broken and pitiful person.

Words: 1.2k

Genre: actress!reader x idol!hyunjin, SLOW BURN, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut (minors dni)

Warnings: none for this chapter.

Author's note: This chapter is pretty short because it's a bit of an introduction to the story. There will be only Selene, the female reader, and there is a mention of another kpop group which will be part of this story as side characters. Before you read this, you need to check out Selene profile and the series masterlist for more info!

Series Masterlist | Selene Profile

End of February 2021

Next Chapter

“We didn’t expect an actual reply after all this time” the manager in front of Selene admitted while looking at her hesitantly “but your manager told us your…hospitalization was coming to an end and you would reach to us as soon as you were out”

The girl was playing with her ring nervously while keeping a tight smile on her face “Yes, I apologize for the wait, I couldn’t use my phone or have any contact with anything related to work while I was there” 

The woman looked at her in a weird way - she still couldn't understand if they were judging her or pitying her - but didn’t comment on that. 

“Well, as your manager has already told you, we wanted to ask you if you could be one of the choreographers of our new boy group which debuted some months ago” she said, scanning some papers she had in front of her on the desk. The other two men, sitting at each side of the manager, hadn’t said a single word since she entered the door of that cold and pretty minimalist room. For being the company of the most famous kpop group they really saved money on the furniture. 

“You were an exceptional dancer for such a young age and your dancing challenge on tiktok went viral for months, really innovative” she continued “for these boys we wanted to assign not only the choreographers we worked with for years and trust, but also someone closer to their age and with your kind of creativity”

“I’m happy to hear that” Selene said with a little nod “I’ve never choreographed for anyone before, even when I was pursuing my dancing career” she admitted “I haven’t danced professionally or being in this kind of industry for the past six years and I was really young when I stopped; what I’ve been doing on social media was just really random”

The woman gave her a little smile “We are aware of your current career status, Miss Corti, it’s kind of impossible not to know your name right now” 

Selene turned red with embarrassment, mainly because she knew that they weren’t talking about her acting achievements. 

“That’s because it was meant to be a failure from the very beginning” a little voice said in her head. 

“Listen, Miss Corti” the woman said with a heavy sigh “your influence on social media and on the entertainment industry has been without doubt really significant since your debut. You were a natural at dancing and probably if you hadn’t suffered such a serious injury things would have gone very differently. Even though we know you cannot dance like that again, you still have those skills and those videos you posted prove it”

The girl didn’t say anything, she just stared at those boys’ manager expressionless. She didn’t like to think about the “what if” or being reminded of a dream that would never come true. 

“We thought that having you in the boys’ team of choreographers would have been a plus and helped them to gain fans and fame even in the western market” she spoke matter-of-factly “your name precedes you”

“But?” Selene asked even though her manager had already told her some details about this job offer. 

The woman pursed her lips as if she didn’t want to address the big elephant in the room “What happened last year between you and…well, we don’t have to talk about it, it must be something you don’t want to be reminded of considering the fact that you were hospitalized for six months” she cleared her voice “but your actions made our company rethink of offering you this position, but at the end we decided that it wasn’t something that would-”

“-not ruin your image, at least, not too much” she interrupted her with a sarcastic tone. 

The manager didn’t appreciate it. 

“Yes” she confirmed it “that’s why we reached out while you were still recovering. However, you can understand that things changed now” she smiled even though it didn’t reach her eyes “we didn’t except for all of this” she indicated her phone “to happen; you can clearly understand that we cannot associated the names of the boys with yours now that you’re in the middle of a controversy and your reputation is experiencing a downfall” 

“I get it, but you decided to see me anyways today; so you must still want my precious skills and natural talent” Selene pointed out using her sarcastic tone again. 

The man on the left coughed uncomfortably, the one on the right chuckled a little. The woman stayed unfazed. 

“Your name won’t be put anywhere: you will work with the other choreographers and the boys as we said before, but you won’t receive any credits. You will have to keep a low profile and, of course, don’t talk about this to the media, on your social media or to anyone who could leak this to the media. We know you’ve decided to take a break from your acting career and your manager told us you’ve also decided to disappear from public eye for some time, so we think this arrangement makes both parts happy”

“We will pay you double and we also wanted to offer you a place located not too far away from the company. At the beginning, we wanted to see your acting schedule so we could discuss your staying based also on the boys’ schedule, but with your break there isn’t any problem and we can provide you a visa for the a whole year if you accept”

“Ok, for me that’s fine”

Those words shocked the three people who were sitting across the table ready to coax the actress into accepting their offer. The girl looked back at them confused:

“What?” 

“You…you accept?” the man on the left asked, talking for the first time since the beginning of the meeting. 

“Well, I think moving to the other side of the world and working without being under the spotlight is exactly what I need now”

They still seemed pretty confused by how fast she accepted. 

“I’ve been credited for too many things in the span of two weeks, I won’t die if my name doesn’t appear in any kind of Enhypen’s choreography” Selene admitted with a shrug “and I really want to get as far away as possible from London for now”

The woman smiled, happy to have achieved her goal “That’s perfect, you can start from next Monday when you will meet the boys, they are…” she continued to speak over excited while asking the other two men to hand her the contract. She started to explain every single detail of her new job, but her mind started to drift away. 

She was sure her manager would take care of it. 

The voices turned into background noises and she started to think over her situation. Maybe this was the right way to depart from the stage she’s been performing on for the past five years so she could go back being an unknown face to the whole world. Maybe everyone will forget about her eventually. Then, she could finally live the normal life she left behind just because she wanted to be someone she had soon realized she couldn’t bear to be. At least, not anymore. 

© lilpixielixie all rights reserved | do not copy, repost or translate this fic.

#skz au #skz bang chan #skz han #skz lee know #skz x you #skz angst #skz seungmin #skz hyunjin #skz felix #skz changbin #hyunjin x reader #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #hyunjin x y/n #skz jeongin #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz oc

[hey-there-ghouls]

I know a few people who read ‘For Whatever We Lose (like a you or a me)’ follow me over here, and there’s been a weird (but lovely) uptick in traffic on that fic so I wanted to post a little update:

The penultimate chapter is about 87% done. I wanted it finished by the time Ghost Files came out on Friday but may not hit that deadline because....

My keyboard is busted custard! 

I had a moment of madness where the space bar kept sticking and thought I’d pull it off and clean underneath it. Macs being what they are, I now can’t reattach it and have been waiting for it to be repaired - but I’ve also been recovering from a small medical procedure so it’s been sliding down my priority list.

I’ve been trying to type the chapter on the busted keyboard, but the spacebar sensor is tiny so most of my sentences endup likethis if I don’t hit the exact spot. I’ve also been typing it on my phone, but I am well out of the age range of my zoomer counterparts who write this way, and I’ve been struggling to maintain any speed with this. 

HOWEVER I have come up with a solution - my work set-up has a keyboard I can pair with my laptop so hopefully I should crack through this last little bit soon. It probably won’t be in time for the premier but hopefully very soon. 

Now, if you’re read this far,  here’s a little preview:

Shane scoffs. “As if you need an excuse to start talking about aliens.”

“Listen here, Mister ‘I believe in Bigfoot but turn my nose up at aliens’ –”

“He’s meat and–”

“Meat and bone, yeah, yeah. I know, you’ve told me,” Ryan waves his free hand at Shane, close enough to brush his fingers up the profiler’s shirt. “Now this is no San Luis Valley Watchtower, I’ll grant you that, but Colorado has a long history of sightings. From the Conquistadors back in the 1500s to Senator Sam T. Taylor in 1955, lots of credible reports.”

Shane frowns, “Isn’t that guy who wanted to build a hydrogen bomb factory in the middle of the state?”

“We’re not going to hold that against him.”

“Oh, we’re not?”

“No. So.”

#this is for one person in particular #and also my dear anon commenter from this morning who begged me to write faster #i'm trying my friends but it's like trying to type on a seesaw

[sergeant-spoons]

C, F, H and T 🥰😘

Ask game linked here (it won’t show up on my blog, for some reason, and a chance to link to @mercurygray’s wonderful profile is always a plus - go read her work!).

C: What member do you identify with most?

Hmmm—that’s a hard one! I think, in a way, that my OCs all derive from a part of my own personality. Their core traits tend to be the traits I wish I could amplify in myself. So I suppose it’s fair to say that I identify with Phyllis Dotson’s love of baking and want for a family just as much as I identify with Verity Rich’s mom-friend instincts and introvertedness. The same goes for Harley Gibbs’ independence, Judy Hartmann’s love of writing (no surprises there, I bet), Leslie Sheppard’s die-hard loyalty; the list goes on.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This one took me a while to figure out. I think my favorite dialogue scenes are from this one shot—From May to June—this other one shot—There’s A Fine, Fine Line—and this scene in In Defense of Chicanery—Chapter 36.

For From May to June and There’s A Fine, Fine Line: I think these two pieces are some of the best characterizations I’ve done with George Luz and Bill Guarnere respectively. 

Ex (From May to June):

“I love that laugh.”

“Mine?”

He snorts.

“No, General Taylor’s.”

and (There’s A Fine, Fine Line)

Powler seems about to correct him, then decides it's not worth it.

"No. You're not sleeping there."

"Ain't ya choice, Miss-"

"If it's too small for me it's much too small for you," she argues before he can think of an applicable epitaph other than 'Gorgeous'.

"Are you callin' me fat?" He knows she isn't, but he thinks it will make her squirm, and he's right.

And from IDOC:

“Huh!” Skip waved, smirking with his usual cheer and charm. “Consider us blessed. Hey, Victor Rich, over there, huddlin’ up to Doc- not so lucky. Got knicked in the ear by a bullet from the heavens above.” 

Skip cupped his hands around his mouth as if Verity could no longer hear him quite so well. 

“How’s that old thing healin’ up, you poor martyr?”

She mustered an empty chuckle for his sake, consoled just enough by Gene’s distant warmth pressed against her side.

“Well, I can still hear, so not as hole-y as you think.”

For this ^^ excerpt, it was (and remains) one of my favorite scenes to write. This is the wounded list scene with Skip, Lipton, Popeye, Liebgott, Guarnere, and the rest of Easy in Bastogne right after Joe Toye returns from the aid station. The scene in the show is a breath of fresh air in the middle of a very difficult and damaging situation—writing it in IDOC felt very much the same.

Also, I love this bit, a little earlier in the scene...

“Perry Bloom over there,” he [Skip] announced, “got his fingers nipped at by the winter, but he’s got a mean left hook, so he fended off the freeze alright.”

“I taught him that,” Toye cut in, and Perry nodded along gladly, sharing a glance with Toye that made Verity shrink slightly into her scarf. They were being a bit bold, weren’t they? Then again, what she wouldn’t give for the chance to express warmth and seek comfort without having to hide it all the damn time.

...because it is one of very few moments in which we get to see Toye and Perry’s blossoming relationship.

H: How would you describe your style?

I think the biggest thing I would identify with my style is the habit I have of using actions between dialogue more often than dialogue tags (or, similarly, using a dialogue tag with an action attached). My ADHD leads me to pay attention to whatever a person is doing while they are speaking (if I am physically present with them) and something I have noticed is that there is very rarely stagnancy in a natural conversation/situation. Life is full of motion. Even the most minute actions—like the tapping of a foot, a glance at a passing butterfly, or the flickering of a smile—can add that pinch of realism I’m always looking to put into my writing.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

None that I can think of off the top of my head in the Band of Brothers fandom, but in The Hobbit fandom, there is a shocking number of (quick trigger warning) incest fics with the Durins (Thorin, Fili, and Kili), a ‘trope’ which makes me very uncomfy.

Thank you so much for this ask, Francy! ILY, my dear. 🥰💕

#author ask #writer asks #fic writing #about me #I love love love getting questions about my fics #ask game #send me an ask!

[angeli-marco-writes]

Elizabeth Debicki - Gorgeous

A/N & WC - Back again with Elizabeth and Taylor Swift. Reputation is my favourite album currently, with evermore as a close second. Two incredible women in one yes please. Listen to 'Gorgeous' while reading for the feel of it. 2.8k exactly.

Warnings - Legal alcohol consumption, mild cursing once.

Summary - Elizabeth is gorgeous, just look at her, the world can see it. A drunken night leads to some tipsy confessions, but does Elizabeth feel the same?

“YOU'RE SO GORGEOUS…”

“What was that?” Elizabeth swiftly cuts in.

Your eyes grow wide in an instant, looking down intensely at the black table, sticky with spilt drinks, and turn your attention away.

“Nothing…” you trail off. Frankly, you hadn’t realised you were thinking aloud, but if you said what you were thinking, then tonight's girls night out with your best friend is gonna be a whole lot harder.

“So as I was saying, this guy from Bumble, he comes and he looks nothing like his profile picture, right?” Her eyes are so animated when she speaks, her jaw agog in a remembering shock, she taps at her glass with ebony painted fingernails. “Like his picture was a solid eight outta ten, but in person, not even a four. But there was something about him, you know? That little twinkle in his eye, so I gave him more of a fair shot than I do other catfishes.” You hum noncommittally, not necessarily listening to the words, but the soft undulating animation in her beautiful accent is worth listening to any day, even if just hearing about her going on a date with someone riles you up intensely. “No personality,” she gapes, smacking her lissom hands down on the table with a slight thump, causing some of her wine to spill. “Absolutely none! It was like talking to a brick wall for half an hour. Can you believe it? And he asked what part of Australia I was from, and when I said Melbourne, you know what he said? ‘Is that in New Zealand.’”

She scoffs, and downs the last of her wine. Her magnetic field is so strong, so alluring, you can’t help but feel drawn to her even more. She really should think about the consequences of her charisma or else you might snog her and ruin everything before the nights even over.

“What a dick,” you play along.

“Ugh, I know. Refill?”

“Please. Whiskey—”

“On ice. I know, hon.”

She smirks, shooting you a wink before standing up and practically gliding across the room to the bar. Your eyes twinkle with hope, with sinful want, as you watch her, and you’re sure that with your wistful expression and flushed cheeks and the way your mouth suddenly goes dry the second she says or does anything that could be construed in the least bit flirtatious that she knows how much you like her. Your whole body tingles, your words and sense swallowed up by an intense fire the second she touches you, it’s beginning to make you furious that she’s able to make you feel this way and still acts so coy about it if she even does have the first clue how utterly besotted you are with everything she does.

Over at the bar, Liz has to hunch to lean her forearms on the countertop, kicking her feet back a little, her short dress showing off her long, shapely legs with grace. She looks so sultry, with her leather jacket shrugged so casually over her pale shoulders. But your mind and illicit thoughts plummet and die the second you peer around her and capture a look at the bartender she’s talking to. Tall and that muscular build of slim that only comes from years of sport, a pinched waist and full chest, tanned skin—perhaps of Filipina descent, dark inky hair falling in tendrils from her work ponytail, no makeup and she still looks stunning. And exactly like Shay Mitchell. And she's flirting with your Elizabeth. Not that she’s yours or anything, that would be absurd, unless…

This woman is gorgeous, and you’re already jealous of her, of the attention she’s receiving from Elizabeth; the suggestive touches, the coy laughs, the revealing tug of her dress, the tentative tilt of her head, the run of her slender hand through her choppy blonde locks. But because Liz is single, it’s actually worse, because she’s been a lot more open and experimental with her sexuality recently, not labelling it but trying more out, trying more partners out. And you don’t fault her for that for even a moment, but why she can’t experiment with you, a raging queer, is beyond your grasp. It’s almost undoubted that she’s going to be taking this incredibly scorching hot bartender home at the end of the night, and if you weren’t out with Elizabeth, you’d be making the same move. But Liz… she desperately needs to think of the consequences of her touching this romans hand in a darkened room. That should be you.

You can’t get too possessive, though, as Liz has done her fair amount of touching you all night on this signature girls pub crawl, but it’s not the same, it’s not… enough. She’s been holding your hand, hooking her arm through yours to do shots, hugging you with her lithe arm around your waist as you totter down the high street in heels too high. It’s all been too friendly, though. And now it’s getting late, your final destination of the night. You’re practically the only patrons with a conscience at this point. You’ll be turning in soon, the bar will be closing soon, it’s inevitable. Liz will have a warm bed, and you’ll be left to go home alone to your cats. She’s so gorgeous, you can't blame the bartender, but she can’t blame you wither; love made you crazy.

You’re busy brooding over the ice slowly melting at the bottom of your glass, condensation forming in droplets on the rim when Liz casts a glance over her shoulder, a bright beaming smile etched upon her face, every line drawn up to match her glee. She points a long raven-painted digit at you, and prompts you to smile back, which you do—without even half as much fervour—and ensure you incline your head towards the bartender, whose dark hazel eyes are now fixed on you, before turning back, pretending to have found something of interest on the table.

“That’s y/n,” she says in a happy, furtive whisper, “my best friend.”

With her ocean blue eyes looking in yours, your mind is all scrambled, and with the intense feeling you might sink and drown and die, you know you need to get it in order before she returns, so you push your own stool out and head to stand in the doorway, fresh air hitting you like a brick wall.

The smell of the city instantly prevents it being worthwhile.

The sun set long ago, and you can see vines crawling up the building across the road from you, even in the dim street light and shadows. Even in a tucked away corner of the city, down back streets in a quiet quarter, the incessant incense of exhaust fumes and chippy food and pigeon shit never quite leaves one alone.

Everything’s winding down, quietening, muffled by an indelible blanket of night. A soft mist fills the air, an impending storm infiltrating your senses, roiling you a little. The walk home will be made worse by the rain soon to fall, ire digging at you for more reasons than one.

Elizabeth… She can make you so happy with one simple look that it turns back to sadness the moment you see the flicker of friendliness in her eyes, never anything more, never anything deeper, not once. What can you say? She’s gorgeous, she’s everyone else's for the taking, whoever she deems rakish enough to take home for the night.

The silence of the night, of your thoughts, is hewn by a sharp siren whizzing past you, so you push your pain away, and sidle back through the doors, shutting the slow drizzle of rain out as you close the door behind you.

Once you return inside, your thoughts slightly more reordered, you see her back at the table, fiddling idly with the hem of her dress, her cheeks tinted a soft red.

“So?”

“I got her number,” she confesses, barely able to bite back a smile, even as her perfect white teeth graze her lower lip. “She gets off shift in an hour.”

You were right, then.

“That’s nice. She’s hot.”

“I know,” she replies dreamily, “and looks exactly like Shay Mitchell, can you believe it? I fancied her so much when Pretty Little Liars first came out.”

“Yeah, I did too.” you admit quietly, clasping your hands around your fresh whiskey.

“You okay? It’s getting late, we can head off now.”

“Nope, absolutely fine. In fact, I think I’ll have another. Tell me something.”

“But we haven’t talked about you all night, I wanna know how your life is going. Love life too.” she protests.

What, your life with the monotonous job and the zero romantic prospects so you spend all your free time sitting at home reading and the nights with your vibrator and Liz in your head? How the hell are you supposed to tell her that.

You simply shrug, and keep a mask of cold, hard resolve in place. “You know my life. I’m interested in yours. Go on.”

So she does. And you do order another whiskey after your first, to the point where you’re verging on the highest restraints of merely tipsy and if you have another you’re heading fast for straight out drunk, which you shan’t do. But you’re merry, and Liz’s words all sound weird, slurred a little from the alcohol, her Australian accent bending to accommodate the vowel sounds she’s making with the occasional slip of a Polish or French word in there. She gets like this when she’s drinking, and it’s one of her most endearing qualities very few are able to see.

“Your voice sounds really weird,” you chuckle, leaning back in your chair, “you’re talkin’ all funny.”

“No I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Am so not!” She’s persistent, she never did back down easy.

You half heartedly shrug, knocking your glasses into one another on the table. You tug your jacket further around you, and purse your lips readying for battle.

“You know, you really should take it as a compliment that I’ve got drunk and I’m making fun of the way you talk.”

She allows her precisely plucked brows to dance over her face in surprise, though quickly schools her features into a plain mask.

“Alright, what’s up?”

“Nothing, Liz. I’m fine.” you say adamantly, and take another swig from your drink, savouring the tang on your tongue. Your glass makes another thud when you slam it down with unplanned and unnecessary force.

“You see, your mouth says that, but your… mouth is telling me something else?”

Before you can help it, your fingers are clutching the edge of the table, your cheeks heating softly, “I haven’t kissed you yet, how can that be?”

A chill slithers down your skin as her eyes grow wide, her pale skin blanching a shade further. “I didn’t mean, um, what? I—” she breaks off with a cough. “I ju— just meant that, um, you’re… sulking.”

“Oh.”

You can’t ignore the way your stomach plummets into the core of the earth, embarrassment taking over every other rational thought within your mind and body. Your soul is already brittle, but this? Your pride has certainly taken a knock enough for you to down the rest of your whiskey in one gulp.

“I’m gonna take off,” you say at last, across the curious blanket of silence, ignoring the way her angular face—limned with hope—falls a fraction.

“Please stay.”

You don’t think you hear her correctly, if at all. For all you know, her words could just be a whisper in the blustering breeze beating outside, the storm you predicted arriving early. In the dim bar, you’re away from it all, sage, until the bartender gets off shift and snatches Liz away for yet another night.

“Beg pardon?”

“Please stay,” she repeats, louder this time, but her blue eyes don’t meet yours across the table. “Tell me what’s up.”

She’s not backing down, so you brace yourself, allowing brazenness to fill you with courage, allowing your alcohol to eddie around you, summoning the words at long last.

“Nothing…” you say at first, because really, it is nothing, but she cocks her head at you that authoritative way. God, she should be a teacher with her assertive glances. “Just that you‘re so gorgeous I can’t say anything to your face…” you snatch her cup across the table, and take a deep swallow before shrugging and casting your gaze outside to spare yourself the mortification of being rejected. “Sober at least.”

You’re met with a beat of silence, “Why?”

“Look at your face!” you shout, utterly exasperated. You’ve got a good mind to pull a compact mirror to remind her how drop-dead stunning she is. “I’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.”

“Why, baby? What way?” she croons.

Too caught up in your momentary lapse of judgement and rant, you fail to notice her edging closer to you, moving your glasses out the way, letting her forearms rest on the sticky table just so she can watch the way you lick your lips with nerves.

“Crazy, because you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts.”

“R—really?” she stammers.

You turn back to her, all thoughts evaporating with her ocean blue eyes looking in yours, driving you insane. Her pretty lips are all parted and awaiting, how much you want to kiss her… So instead, you pout, and begin to throw a strop in your tipsy state.

“Tell me more.”

“No.”

“C’mon,” she teases, a smirk toying at her mouth, giving her cheeks subtle dimples. “Don’t leave me hanging. “Tell me what you really think. How I make you feel. I wanna hear,” her voice drops to a purr, leaning over the table to husk in your ear, “every little thing.”

“Ok then,” you concede. “You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much.”

“I don’t see how,” she snorts, “but continue.”

Her attention never once fails you or turns away, enamoured with your every mere breath.

“You’re gorgeous. Your magnetic field is too strong for me to cope. Your energy draws me in. You’re all I want.”

“More.” she coaxes, a single word, but a whisper, and yet it stokes the embers of desire in the pit of your stomach, your forehead creasing to attempt to draw some concentration back from the depths of your mind where your fantasies about her saying that exact word in that exact breathy way linger.

Perhaps your adulation is excessive, but you don't miss the sparkle in her eyes at each compliment you dole. This is your final card, though, and you’re going to play it right, so you forget about the consequences of touching her hand in a darkness room, and simply intertwine your fingers, drawing your noses to meet over the table.

“You've ruined my life, by not being mine,” you profess, ensuring that your hot breath fans over her lips. You can feel her shudder. “And you know there’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have.”

“I’m all yours if you’ll have me.”

And just like that, the world stops turning around you. Your heart lilts, your mind prattles on about all you want to say, all you want to do. But then it stops. And all of a sudden, you’re intrepid, desperate to ravish her and ruin her for all other women, eager to kiss her voraciously until you can scarcely breathe, yearning to feel her words of reassurance wrap around you, if only she agrees to your proposal over that of the hot bartender.

“Well, I’ve told you what's up, so I guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats. Alone... unless you wanna come along.”

You push away from the table and stand with a slight shrug, turning your back on her, making strides for the door and the storm bristling outside. Only, you barely make it to the door before Liz’s slender hand is wrapped around your arm, and is turning you back to her, tugging you closer, chest to chest, nose to nose.

“Fuck yes, księżniczka. After that, of course I’m coming.”

Your lips meet in a fiery kiss, a desperate battle of will, and her tongue slides over the seam of your lips. You grant her entry with an open mouth, heat skittering over your skin as she holds you tighter, closer, with a deeper urgency you don’t hesitate to match.

Her crystal eyes simmer as she withdraws, her forehead on yours. Her lips brush yours as she breathes, and she grabs your hand, heading out into the night with Liz, at long last.

“For the record, you’re gorgeous and perfect and drive me crazy too. Everything you said tonight, I echo. What can I say?”

You’re gorgeous.

#elizabeth debicki #elizabeth debicki x reader #elizabeth debicki imagine #jed roper #jed night manager #elizabeth debicki tom hiddleston #liz debicki #elizabeth debicki fic #elizabeth debicki smut #elizabeth debicki fluff #elizabeth debicki angst #wlw fluff #Spotify

[spencers-renaissance]

Hear it in the Silence

Summary: A short, fluffy chronicle of Spencer realising in increments how in love with Derek he is, and navigating a real, beautifully sweet relationship that's not always smooth sailing, especially since he's been hurt before. (Based on Taylor Swift’s You are in Love.)

Tags: major fluff, angst, past abuse, hurt/comfort, fights, making up, falling in love, dev relationship 

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 3.7k

Read on AO3 (detailed cw in notes)

They’re careful to arrive separately but unsurprisingly, subtlety is not Derek’s strong suit. Spencer has a good poker face -- although logically he knows that a cheerful, passive expressive is the best actual poker face due to its non-threatening nature -- but Derek absolutely cannot get rid of the smug, pleased smile he’s wearing proudly. It’s a good thing Spencer looks as unsuspicious as possible because as soon as he enters the room, Emily’s teasing him about the hot date he clearly had last night. 

Derek might look smug but Spencer feels it: a soft swirl of satisfaction settling in his tummy, though he’s careful not to show it. He’s proud of himself for how smoothly the date went last night, much more comfortable than the first three, and he’s even happier that he can now call himself Derek Morgan’s boyfriend. He’d stayed the night for the first time last night and it couldn’t have been more special in Spencer’s eyes. 

He may not be grinning like Derek is, but he’s filled with a happy sort of warmth completely unmatched by any feeling that’s ever occupied his body before. It festers and grows and develops even throughout the gruesome briefing, even when discussing the profile of an enucleator, even when looking at crime scene photos. Pretty colours still ripple through his brain, comforting him with the promise of more, the promise of purpose beyond his day job.

The colours only intensify when they walk to the jet together with Emily and JJ, chatting about their weekends in vague as possible terms. They’re nearly at the door when Derek looks at him like he did last night: like he can’t quite believe what, who, he’s seeing, like Spencer’s everything he’ll ever need to be happy. If anyone caught it, they’d be found out immediately, but they don’t.

It’s a look meant just for him. 

He wants to bask in this moment for just a little longer, but they force themselves to pull their eyes away from one another and board the jet. At this point, he has no choice but to acknowledge that he will be working this case with his insides a messy, melted puddle of sentiment. And he’s not even mad about it.

⭐️

The insides of his eyelids don’t solely exist to serve their intended biological function anymore: they’re no longer just protection for his eyes but a cinema screen playing moments shared with Derek over and over again. Their first date, their first kiss, the first time Derek held him closely as he pushed slowly inside him. The looks he sends his way, the feeling of Derek’s hand in his, his broad chest and how it’s the perfect pillow for Spencer’s tired head. 

Time moves too fast so Spencer has no choice but to play it back, over and over again. 

“I’ve never been more jealous of your eidetic memory,” Derek chuckles when Spencer tells him this a little shyly on their next date. 

At first he’s terrified his boyfriend is mocking him, not appreciating just how deadly serious he’s being, but the earnest, adoring look Derek is wearing across his features tells him otherwise. His expressive face is one of the things Spencer loves so much about him; social situations and cues are hard for him to read, but one look at Derek’s face and he knows exactly what’s happening, exactly how to respond and behave. 

“It’s one of the few perks,” Spencer concedes, slipping his mittened hand into Derek’s. It’s late November and the evenings are cold, even in DC, but walking down the quiet street lit up by Christmas lights together after a delicious meal warms Spencer from the inside out. 

They pause a little way down the street when Derek points up at a Christmas light decoration in the shape of a mistletoe. “It would be bad luck if we didn’t,” he says seriously despite the playfulness in his eyes.

“Can’t have that,” Spencer hums, and he plays with the wide buttons on Derek’s double-breasted coat as he leans in and connects their lips in a soft kiss, feeling Derek’s hands come to his waist in the way he likes far too much, feeling small in his boyfriend’s hold. 

“An extra one for good luck,” Derek whispers as he leans in for one more after they pull away, brushing a lock of Spencer’s hair out of his eyes. “That’s how it works, you know.”

“It is?” Spencer laughs, eyes crinkling fondly at the look on his face. 

“Mhm,” Derek confirms, moving his hand to Spencer’s lower back as they continue their walk back to Spencer’s apartment. “I’m a Christmas tradition expert. I know more than you, probably.”

“Sure,” Spencer grins diplomatically, leaning in closer to the warm body next to him, contentedness flooding his insides.

Derek only stays for an hour before driving back to dump his stuff and repack his go-bag for the upcoming week, but it’s sort of a good thing. A lot has happened in a very short span of time and Spencer appreciates having a bit of uninterrupted alone time to really think about what’s been going on. 

They’ve had five dates by now: Derek had given him a little present to commemorate the moment, immediately making Spencer feel guilty for doing nothing of the sort, guilt which had quickly been assuaged by a gentle touch to the back of his hand. At first, he hadn’t known what to say. It was an understated necklace, a silver chain with a small triangle pendant on the end of it. He wasn’t a big jewelry person really, but on their first date, Spencer had talked at length about why triangles were his favourite shape (not his proudest moment) but Derek was so thoughtful. He could wear it all the time while easily concealing it at the same time, and it was just the most perfect gift he’d ever received.

He rolls it over in his fingers as he curls up in bed. He was falling in love with Derek, and he had absolutely no proof he was falling in love back; no proof, but he’d seen… something. Even just the present felt like statement enough. Maybe this was going to be it for him. Maybe Derek was going to finally give him the very thing he’d been craving all these years. 

It’s a comforting enough thought to dampen the doubts and fears niggling at him, and it sends him to sleep with the kind of peace in his heart he’d written off as impossible a long time ago. 

⭐️

Go-bags are packed, the case is wrapped up, and the team are saying their goodbyes to local law enforcement when Hotch gets the phone call. 

He’s wearing a mildly irritated frown when he heads back over a few minutes later. “There’s been a problem with the jet,” he informs them, grimacing at their annoyed reactions, “so you can either drive home yourself or wait. Garcia’s re-booking the hotel for the night and I’m informed that the plane should be ready to go by the morning.”

Spencer shoots a look at Derek who immediately understands and nods in return. Columbus, Ohio is a 6/7 hour drive back to DC, and the alone time after being so close but so far for almost a week sounds like heaven. It’s only 4pm: they won’t even get home that late.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Spencer muses once they’re on the road, curled up in the driver’s seat with his trusty blanket tucked around him as he admires his sexy boyfriend at the wheel. 

“What do you mean, baby?” he asks, looking over briefly. 

“Well just last week we were talking about taking a road trip together and then Hotch not only gives us the opportunity but also provides the transport,” he says, thumbing the pendant around his neck. It’s become almost a self-soothing thing now: even if it’s usually hidden under his ties at work, just knowing it’s there settles something deep inside him. 

Derek chuckles at that. “I’m not sure I imagined Hotch being quite so involved in our romantic get-away, but yes, it is one hell of a coincidence,” he agrees. “Although mark my words, I will take you on a proper road-trip one day. And I want to take you on a nice holiday, too. Paris, London, Florence. Bali, Thailand, maybe.”

Blush spreading across his cheeks, Spencer smiles over at Derek. “Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah,” Derek grins over at him, “I’m gonna treat my pretty boy like it’s my job.”

“You already do.” He feels shy suddenly, a little overwhelmed at the emotions Derek is eliciting in him right now. 

“Baby,” he says, shaking his head, mischief dancing in his eyes, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.” 

Spencer’s already thinking of counting it as their eighth date, but Derek seals the deal when he pulls off the interstate and onto a much quieter road as they near DC. It’s just gone 10 and the December night is cool and clear, but he still looks quizzically at his boyfriend as the engine shuts off.

“Trust me,” Derek says and gets out of the car. Spencer, of course, trusts Derek implicitly so obediently gets out of the car and joins him at the front of the jeep, leaning against the hood. “Look how beautiful it is.” 

They’re on a country road, surrounded by wheat and barley fields, but Derek’s looking up. The night sky is littered with stars, constellations clear as day against the inky black backdrop of mid-December. “My favourite constellation is probably Cassiopeia, you know,” Spencer explains, barely observing the sky before looking to Derek to impart his knowledge. “She’s one of the only figures banished to the heavenly realm as punishment and not in honour, and it was because she flaunted her beauty too much, and her vanity--”

He’s interrupted by a hand on his forearm. “Spencer,” Derek says softly, catching his attention and slowing his info-dump. “Look up.”

Instead of thinking about all the intellectual and academic aspects of astronomy, astrology, and physics, he takes a good while to just absorb the beauty of the night, probably for the first time in his life. He lets himself rest in that moment, sinking into Derek’s side as they shiver a little in the frigid air, staring at the bright, twinkling lights smiling down at them. 

For some reason, it feels like the universe’s blessing. The stars aligning, the inky sky approving, frozen air applauding. Derek leans over and kisses Spencer, holding his face in both his hands as their insides warm against the cold and in that moment Spencer knows. He still has no proof Derek feels the same way, but with one touch he knows that he’s in love. 

⭐️

Spending Christmas apart is hard, but they make up for it with their eleventh date, Derek driving them over to the National Zoo and listening diligently to Spencer’s info-dumping. They spend the whole afternoon walking through all the exhibits and Derek buys him a pretty steady stream of candy-floss, hot-dogs and cuddly toys throughout their time there, keeping Spencer flushed and happy, completely in his element. 

Derek cooks them dinner at his apartment afterwards, making Spencer’s favourite, a simple spaghetti bolognese with a healthy amount of homemade garlic bread on the side, and they eat at the cosy kitchen table, cheesy candles aflame as they chat easily. 

They get ready for bed in tandem, brushing their teeth together, toothpaste spilling down their chins as they laugh wildly at each other in the mirror. It’s a comfortable sort of ease, a domesticity that feels far too natural for such a youthful relationship. It works though, and neither of them are complaining as they fall asleep folded into each other’s arms. 

Spencer wakes up first but Derek isn’t far behind him, kissing his scrunched up nose almost as soon as he opens his eyes to find Spencer lazily curled up on his chest. “Breakfast?” he asks.

“Please.” 

The toast Derek puts in ends up burning when they get distracted by one another, but Derek just laughs and puts it in the bin and drives them to McDonald’s instead. “I hope you know I’m keeping this shirt,” Spencer teases as they pull on loose sweatpants and trainers and hop into Derek’s car. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, baby,” Derek says sincerely. “My entire wardrobe is open for your perusal. Seeing you in my clothes does things to me.”

“I know,” Spencer says, face full of faux innocence. “Why do you think I want to keep them?” 

“You are such a fucking tease,” Derek smirks, shaking his head disapprovingly, “but you know I love it.”

“Mm, I do,” Spencer agrees, reaching across the console and resting a hand on Derek’s thigh. 

“Oh, God, baby, you just wait until we get home.” 

Spencer pulls his hand away, satisfied smile playing across his lips. 

“Brat,” Derek mutters under his breath as they pull into the drive-thru. Spencer just smiles wider. 

Spencer lets his guard down with Derek in a way he’s never done with anybody else and you’d have to be stupid not to notice, so of course Derek is fully aware of the responsibility on his shoulders. Later that morning, after a greasy breakfast, satisfying fuck, and a shared shower, they sprawl across the sofa, nestled into one another comfortably as the TV plays some hallmark movie in the background. 

“My last boyfriend didn’t turn out so nice,” Spencer says when Derek brings up the topic of exes. It brings a heavier note to their light-hearted conversation, but he knows they’ll have to talk about it eventually and it might as well be now. “He got into it because he thought I was innocent and attractive, but when it came to actually spending time together and he found more out about me, he changed his mind.”

“Baby,” Derek murmurs into his hair, “dId he hurt you?” His voice is full of apprehension, afraid of the answer but needing to know. 

“Only once,” Spencer whispers. “I left him after that. But he was kind of emotionally cruel before that and it compounded on a lot of issues I already had from when I was little, you know, with my dad and bullies and everything. It took a long time to rebuild myself, I just…”

He trails off, not knowing how to put what he wants to say into words. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to know that I will never hurt you, not like that,” Derek says earnestly as he catches onto what Spencer’s afraid of deep down, caressing his arm softly. “I can’t promise I won’t make mistakes or accidentally say something wrong, but I will never hurt you like others have done in the past. You’re safe with me, pretty boy. And I am so proud of you for building yourself back up after trauma like that: you are absolutely the strongest person I know, and I don’t say that lightly, yeah?” 

And, yeah. That feels like proof for Spencer.

⭐️

They keep it a secret for as long as possible, but Emily finds out in late March and Rossi follows shortly after. Even once it’s out to everyone, though, they don’t change their work dynamic, they don’t give into any kind of temptation in the field, despite not having to hide anymore. They know the only way they’ll be allowed to stay on the same team is if it doesn’t affect their actions and choices one bit. So even though Derek’s protectiveness is ratcheted up several notches, he swallows it down and doesn’t comment on dangerous situations Spencer goes into. He’s sure Spencer would find that pretty hypocritical anyway; he’s constantly chastising his own recklessness in the field.

Just because Derek bites his tongue at work, though, doesn’t mean he can’t comment on it at home. So after a particularly irresponsible decision Spencer makes in a hostage situation, seriously endangering himself, he holds it in until they step into Derek’s apartment and Spencer looks at him, confused at why he’s clearly stewing in something and not talking about it. 

“What’s going on?” he asks as he toes his shoes off and makes himself at home in the same way he’s done for months now. 

“What’s going on?” Derek repeats incredulously, raising his voice ever so slightly. “You were so fucking rash and reckless today Spencer, you could have died! And you ask me what’s going on? Are you fucking kidding me?” Really it’s fear manifesting itself as anger but right now the rage bubbling up inside him feels almost suffocating. 

“I knew what I was doing,” Spencer says defensively, looking completely bewildered at the sudden outburst. 

“You know that what you were doing was seriously endangering yourself, Spencer,” Derek argues, voice rising even more. “Yes, you saved a hostage today. But you also could have gotten yourself killed, and you have to understand that your life is not worth less than anybody else’s, okay?”

“Derek, I signed up for this life, she didn’t--”

“No,” Derek shouts. “No, don’t give me that. It would fucking crush me to lose you, Spencer, and it seems like you don’t even care about that. Do my feelings even matter to you?”

“What? Of course, they do, Derek,” Spencer says, still looking caught off guard and confused as he tries to figure out the situation and why his boyfriend is so angry. He tries to temper the unpleasant feelings filling his chest cavity, like muscle memory, fingers remembering a piece of sheet music played far too many times. 

“Well then fucking prove it,” Derek yells. “You aren’t listening to me! You endangered yourself and that’s terrifying for me. Your life matters Spencer, and sometimes I feel like it matters more to me than it does to you!”

“Derek, please calm down,” he pleads, wanting to talk about this properly and not feel so ambushed. “You’re scaring me.” 

That immediately catches Derek’s attention and the anger seems to leak out of him like a stopper’s been pulled out, draining him dry for only a moment before fear and guilt fill its place. “Fuck,” he mutters, sitting on the sofa and burying his head in his hands for a second before sitting up and making eye contact with Spencer. “I’m sorry, Spencer, I shouldn’t have yelled. I just… you scared me. You went against protocol today. You know that the FBI does not mandate agents putting themselves at serious risk of death or injury, even if it would save a life. Your life matters so much, to me, to the team, to your mum. People care so much about you, baby, and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, okay? You put the fear of God in me earlier and sometimes… sometimes anger is the only way I know how to deal with those emotions.” 

“I know,” Spencer whispers, and though it’s unsaid they both understand he’s acknowledging every part of Derek’s speech. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you. I guess I’ve gone so long as a solo act, only having to think about myself and with very little to live for, it’s just taking time to adjust to remembering that I have you and your emotions to consider now. I need you to know, though, that I can’t deal with it when you shout at me like that, if you have a problem I need you to discuss it with me because I can’t figure out what’s going on when there are lots of emotions and raised voices, it confuses and upsets me.”

“I will, Spencer, I promise. I’m so genuinely sorry I handled it so poorly this time.” 

“Thank you,” he whispers gratefully. 

“Come here,” Derek says, the beginnings of a smile playing over his lips. He pulls Spencer into a gentle embrace, relishing the feel of Spencer, alive, pressed against his body. His warm skin, beating heart, soft curls, all shared with him, entrusted to him. 

“Next time I’ll stop and think about you, Derek,” Spencer says softly as he rests his head against his shoulder. “I’ll remember to prioritise us, remember that we can’t save everyone.” 

“Thank you, baby,” Derek says. “And I’ll be more patient; remember that you haven’t had anyone to remind you properly of the worth you have in a long time. We’re good, though, aren’t we?”

“So good,” Spencer confirms, pulling back and smiling properly before kissing Derek softly. He moves down to nose at his neck slightly, pressing a few tender kisses there, too. “Shall we head to bed? You look exhausted.” 

“That sounds like a plan,” Derek agrees before a cheeky smile plays across his features. “As long as you wear one of my shirts again…”

“Oh, what a hardship,” Spencer groans, winking at him in the lop-sided, awkward way he always does. “But I suppose I’ll do anything for you.” 

Spencer stays up for a little while after Derek falls asleep, reading over some casenotes, a few consults, and figuring out a new angle for a research paper he’s working on. Quiet, methodical work -- no matter how gruesome -- helps him wind-down after the high adrenaline of a case and it feels extra necessary tonight after the argument he’d had with Derek. 

He feels his boyfriend stir only a few hours after he’s dropped off to sleep, staring up at Spencer in the soft glow of the pink lamp on the bedside table bought for exactly these sorts of nights. A strange look plays across his face as he reaches for Spencer’s hand and holds it. 

“You’re my best friend, Spencer,” he says, completely serious. “You know that, don’t you?”

Spencer’s done obsessing over proof. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, looking down at their intertwined hands before back at his face, “I love you, too, Derek.” His smile softens even more when he sees Derek’s face relax into a relieved expression, knowing that his meaning was understood. 

“Good,” he whispers, kissing the back of Spencer’s hand before lying his head back down on the pillow. “Night, pretty boy. I love you.”

As Derek drifts back off to sleep, he hears those words echoing around in the silence, a soothing, methodic rhythm of reassurance that what he’s wished for since the very first look on the way to the jet has materialised. 

Knowing it is one thing, but hearing it is another. Derek loves him. He hears it in the silence, feels it on the way home, and when he curls up next to his boyfriend, he can even see it with the lights off. 

#my writing #moreid #moreid fic #derek #spencer #derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #criminal minds angst #tw abuse #criminal minds fluff #moreid fluff #derek x spencer #derek morgan x spencer reid

[the-lincyclopedia]

Fic writer questions I never get asked

Thanks for the tag, @khashanakalashtar! This is an interesting list! 

What date did you make your AO3 profile? What date did you post your first fic?

I joined AO3 on February 5, 2018. Seriously. I was FFN-only for so long. I posted my first fics on AO3 the day I joined. My first fics ever to hit the internet, however, were published on July 13, 2011, which is when I got my FFN account.

Do you cross-post your work?

Yeah, still. When I first got my AO3 account, I posted a bunch of things that were already on my FFN account, and these days I put basically everything on both. I like that FFN gives a pretty accurate and nearly complete timeline of my fanworks, which is the main reason I’m still posting there. Nothing I’ve posted there in the past three years has gotten much engagement, and I know the site is dying. 

What’s your fic with the most comment threads? The most bookmarks? Are the top 5 of those categories basically the same, and basically the same as the top 5 kudos?

Top 5 by comment threads: 

Face the Future with You (Check Please)

Man Oh Man, You’re My Best Friend (Check Please)

It’s Always You (Check Please)

Love in the Time of Influenza (Carry On)

I Love You, All Right? (Check Please)

Top 5 by bookmarks: 

Love in the Time of Influenza (Carry On)

The Aftermath of Angelic Assumptions (Good Omens)

Man Oh Man, You’re My Best Friend (Check Please)

Nightmares (Carry On)

Christmas Planning (Carry On)

Top 5 by kudos: 

Love in the Time of Influenza (Carry On)

Face the Future with You (Check Please)

Nightmares (Carry On)

The Aftermath of Angelic Assumptions (Good Omens)

Christmas Planning (Carry On)

So basically the Check Please fandom comments more and the Carry On fandom is more into bookmarks and kudos, and there’s more of a correlation between kudos and bookmarks than between either of those and comments. 

What’s the word count of your longest fic or series?

“The Jumper Chronicles,” my longest fic on FFN, is 111,223 words. I abandoned it in 2015 and I really would not recommend it. On AO3, my longest fic is “who could ask to be unbroken (or be brave again)” at 14,772 words. It’s part of my longest series on AO3: “Samwell Men’s Harmonies” at 29,921 words. 

What’s your most underrated fic?

MOST underrated? I have 132 fics on AO3, so there are a lot of potential answers. I guess I’ll pick my work with literally the fewest kudos: it’s a charming little rhyming poem about Harry Potter called “The Willow May Whomp You.” It has two kudos, fewer than 70 hits, no bookmarks, and no comments. I was so proud of it when I finished it, and AO3 really did not care. 

Does your early work contain any writing sins?

I had heard that not breaking up your dialogue was bad (which it’s not? Who told me this? Why did I believe them? Ugh), and I thought that adding adverbs to dialogue tags constituted breaking up your dialogue. So I had lots of unnecessary beats and adverbs and internal monologue mixed up in what otherwise might have been passable dialogue scenes. (I don’t remember whether this came up a ton in my fics and I don’t feel like looking, but I remember it pretty clearly in the original stuff I was working on back then.)

Have you ever had a work podficced?

Yes! I requested it for Fandom Trumps Hate, though, so I don’t know if it counts, exactly. It’s not like someone read my work and approached me about podding it. Anyway, my Yuri on Ice fic “When and If” has a podfic version. 

Have you posted any podfics? Fanvids? Fanart?

I was going to say no, and then I remembered that back in, like, 2009, I tried to make a couple Romione fanvids, one to Taylor Swift’s “You Belong with Me” and one to “I’m Not That Girl” from Wicked. Unfortunately for everyone involved, I didn’t have a clue how to pull bits of video from a movie (still don’t, actually), so they were basically slideshows. I’ve long since taken them down from YouTube and the computer I made them on has long since died, so I can’t prove any of this to you, but . . . uh, yeah. That happened. 

Are there any trends in your favorite ships?

I feel like there have been, like, eras of my shipping. When I first started shipping (i.e. before I realized I’m queer), it was basically “girl I can project on” shipped with “literally whoever her canon love interest is, regardless of anything about him” (Romione, Percabeth). Then it was “asshole guy” shipped with “other guy who interfaces between the asshole guy and the rest of the world” (Johnlock, Otayuri to a lesser extent). I feel like it’s becoming “broken person whose coping mechanism is meanness” shipped with “broken person whose coping mechanism is sunshine” (Zimbits, maybe Snowbaz). This is pretty similar to the asshole x interface-with-world, but the relationship is a little more mutual and balanced, and the mean one has a better excuse for being mean. 

Do you have fandoms you’ve written a lot for? Fandoms you’ve only written a one-off for?

Fandoms I’ve written a lot for: Check Please, Carry On, Harry Potter, Sherlock, Lizzie Bennet Diaries, and Yuri on Ice. (I’m defining “a lot” as at least five fics, and please note that I’ve got a 30k Lizzie Bennet Diaries fic that’s only on FFN because I really don’t like the ending.)

Fandoms I’ve only written one-offs for: Discworld, Turtles All the Way Down, Maleficent, the Chronicles of Narnia, Paper Towns, Six of Crows, Hoot, the Odyssey, Song of the Lioness, and Downton Abbey. (There are multiple other fandoms with two fics each.)

What fandom got you into fandom?

Harry Potter. I’d been writing next gen fics for like two years when a school acquaintance shared an FFN link to a Marauders fic on Google Buzz and I was hooked. 

Do you have a strategy for summaries?

I try to describe the premise/first part of the plot, and I add notes that might be relevant (i.e., major trigger warnings or other things that might put people off). I don’t use quotes, either from the story or from anywhere else. 

Do you use beta readers? For what? Do you have a go-to beta?

Occasionally for plot/general “is this good?” type feedback, or if they’re mandatory for an event, I guess. (I’m doing my first bang, so that’s a new thing for me.) I don’t feel the need to use a beta for spelling, grammar, or punctuation since I’m a semi-professional copyeditor. These days I do read most things to my QPP over the phone before publishing them. That’s usually more of a cheer-reading situation than a beta situation, though. 

I tag @doggernaut @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @birlcholtz @cricketnationrise and anyone else who wants to play! 

#mine #tag game #fanfiction #about me

[snlhostharry]

to be determined / one

harry styles x reader friends with benefits au

soon after moving to new york, you meet harry styles at a party. you convince yourself that there’s nothing between the two of you until it becomes too intense to ignore. if you keep telling yourself that he doesn’t mean anything to you, does that make it true?

a/n: hi everyone! welcome to my first harry styles series. This originally started as a challenge for myself to try and write a harry fic inspired by taylor swift songs so that’s where the chapter titles come from, it’s kind of become something bigger than that but I figured I would keep the theme anyway 

chapter 1: welcome to new york

The story starts in New York City. 

A place written about in countless stories, about love, about heartbreak, about giving up, about standing tall, and about putting broken hearts into drawers and slamming them shut. It’s easy to say that writing another story about New York is beating a dead horse, throwing characters into the same tired old setting and letting them live out the writer's wildest daydream. But it’s never been about the city itself, it’s always been about the people. Something about the city always manages to be the perfect stomping ground for people, for characters to find each other in a  whirlwind of A list parties and harsh billboard lights. 

Speaking of which you are suddenly very sick of said harsh billboard lights in the middle of times square. As someone who has read (and written) countless articles describing times square as a flurry of activity but also with some kind of inherent magical appeal, the center of everything it’s own small utopia, you know that everyone who wrote that had to be aware of their own bullshit. It’s a nuanced way of tourist trapping, smart, albeit annoying on a variety of levels. A gimmick to get wide eyed little girls to stand in the middle of chaos and think that maybe they could carve out a place for themselves here. 

You’re not trying to carve out a place for yourself, you’re trying to get to a stupid party. That and manage to not get any mud or other stains on this very nice dress you’re wearing. After what seems like forever of looking around and then suddenly looking back down at your phone just in case anyone wanted to even try to make eye contact with you, familiar faces appear out of the sea of people. 

You greet them with a look of disappointment, “Two questions: why did you want to meet here-” a tourist elbows there way past you mid sentence, inadvertently proving your point, “-and why aren’t we just taking an uber?” 

Molly, a tall black woman with objectively perfect hair (which is somehow gorgeous at all times), smiles and pats your shoulder like a kindergarten teacher, “I thought you would want to see Times Square.”

“I’ve seen it,” You shoot back, squinting again at the bright light coming from directly behind her head, and adjusting your jacket over your shoulders. 

She squeezes your shoulder quickly, “And also to teach you that any time someone asks you to meet them in Times Square  they’re fucking with you.”

“I figured you were fucking with me,” You tell her, “But thank you, god forbid the midwestern girl gets lost in Times Square waiting for someone to meet her who is obviously not coming.��� 

Molly laughs, and so do you. She looks down at her phone briefly, and then back at you, “To answer your question, why would anyone ever try to get an uber in the city at seven?” 

You shrug, “What kind of self respecting party starts at eight?” 

Fletcher, who’s name admittedly sounds like it should belong to anyone but him, finally stops staring at the large elmo mascot a few feet away and jumps into the conversation. “The kind with an age range, twenty somethings to late thirty somethings, who no longer have the energy to go from nine to six am.” 

You sigh, “So boring then or-?”

“It’s about networking,” Molly says, “And also drinking, but mostly networking.” 

“One of those unique business opportunities where you get free food, and possibly run into celebrities, singers mostly.” 

You roll your eyes, “Wow you had me at various singers.” 

“Says the woman who did an interview series with Tik Tok kids who all live in the same house,” Molly snips, half joking. 

You shiver, half from the memories of that objectively terrible experience and half from a sudden breeze. Needless to say a significant portion of the reason why you’d left LA, was because their entertainment section was suddenly drifting away from profiles on actors and towards compilations of one minute videos made by sun tanned twenty somethings that somehow made them millions a year. That and after you’d spent two weeks semi living with ten of said twenty somethings for a story that had gotten a lot of buzz you never wanted to see anyone connected to the app ever again. 

You give Molly your best ‘I’ll kill you’ smile, “You have to decide what you’re going to make fun of me for, is it the midwestern thing or is it the Tik Tok thing because one of those involves you admitting that I lived in Los Angeles for a year which means I’m perfectly capable of handling Times Square in all of it’s elmo public urinating glory.” 

Fletcher looks again at the mascot who is not in fact publicly urinating, but honestly if it did suddenly start none of you would be surprised. 

Molly looks at you for a second and says, “Both,” She looks at Fletcher. 

He looks at you then back and Molly and nods, “Yeah. Both.” 

You roll your eyes, “So can we get going now or-?” 

The ride to the location Molly had all but refused to tell you was filled with talks of the impending deadlines on Monday for pieces that were anywhere from fifty to seventy percent finished. (your’s is at the lower end of the spectrum because there is only so much one person can write about an art installation that you found less insightful and more literal in the sense that the sculpture was literally just large amounts of clay pressed together in something that shouldn’t even be considered a shape with no metaphor or meaning behind it). 

Soon enough you’re standing in what looks like mostly a residential neighborhood, with one precariously nice building in the middle of the block. You turn to Molly, “What the-?” 

“Don’t finish that, just be patient,“ She interrupts as a response. “You are very impatient, you know that?”

“I’m a journalist,” You say, “I need to know all of the facts, including what the-” You take a breath, “-heck we’re doing in the middle of a nice little neighborhood, I was expecting something more Gossip Girland Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” 

“You’re definition of journalist is a lot looser than mine,” Molly says.

“Have you ever watched Gossip Girl? And isn’t Brooklyn Nine-Nine set in a precinct?” Fletcher adds. 

“No, and Jake and Amy live in an apartment.” 

“Beyond the fact that you’re a TV writer who has never watched Gossip Girl-” Fletcher sighs, even though you know he hasn’t watched it either beyond random snippets for a hit piece he wrote on it a few months back (not received well by the way), “The top floor of that building-” He points to the precariously nice building, “isn’t apartments its a loft, the floor is huge and only one house.” 

You squint your eyes, “You’re kidding.”

“And the rest are offices?” 

“How did they get zoning for that?” 

They both shrug at the same time. 

“Guys I want to know that if the police bust up this party, speaking of loose terms, I’m going to say that you dragged me here against my will.” 

“I always knew you had good survival instincts.” 

Molly turns to you, “Look when you’re getting special press access to the inside of the met gala you will be saying thank you Molly for bringing me here to catapult my career.” 

“I have catapulted my own career thank you, the Tik Tok thing-” You shake your head, “Nevermind can we go in and stop loitering, then we’ll really get arrested.” 

Party is a loose term but you learn that's not necessarily a bad thing. It’s not a rager with strobe lights and pumping bass but there is music playing albeit classical. People mill around at tables talking to one another, both twenty somethings and thirty somethings, you recognize a few faces from the media mostly. Fletcher was right about the food, and Molly was right about the drinks. You talk to a few people just to introduce yourself, a couple of them have heard of you, if only because your sudden cross country move to newspapers that aren’t necessarily competitors but might have a bit of a rivalry was something that people talked about. You’d made a couple thirty under thirty lists (no not the Forbes one) while in LA, which meant nothing to you if you were being completely honest but apparently meant things to other people which is fine.

When you’re finally exhausted at putting on a smile and nodding like you’re actively engaged in conversation and not thinking about something completely you hang out by the bar, not even drinking, just watching the room and all of the people there. You never wanted to get a reputation for being the quiet girl in the corner who just watched and listened because those kinds of people are always seen as weird or doormats or both but if you’re being honest this is where you’re the most comfortable. Making small talk just to get some opportunity down the road has never quite been your style. 

You turn to go and find Molly when you suddenly come face to face with someone you recognise right away. 

In that moment you realize that Taylor Swift was in fact onto something when she said, “Didn’t you flash your green eyes at me?” As weird as it is, the first thing you think when you meet Harry Styles is how that song is definitely about him, because those green eyes are striking and they are staring right at you. 

“Hi,” He says, quick to the draw. 

You take a step back just because of how close you are and say, “Hello.” 

He looks at you like he’s thinking about something, and then holds out his hand, “Harry.” 

“y/n,” You shake his hand. You recover from your initial shock quickly, and plaster on that fake conversation smile again, ready for whatever it is he wants to say, if anything. You came here to ‘network’ and you’re not sure what kind of advantage talking to Harry Styles could possibly give you, but for some reason you want to talk to him. 

“What brings you here?” He asks you. 

“My co-workers,” You shrug, “I would much rather be at home watching Succession on HBO and listening to the Beatles on my record player, like true people of culture would.”

He looks at you for a second, as you try to keep a straight face. Then he laughs, “Seriously?”

“Fuck no,” You say, “That’s my impression of the girl who meets Harry Styles at a party and has to convince him that she is not like all the other girls, she is the one for him.” You smile, “Was that good? Or should I try again?” 

He thinks about it, “I think you should try again.” 

“Because you think it’s wrong or because you think I’m funny?”

“What do you think?”

“Well if you think I’m funny, then I’ve already won, I’ve tricked you into thinking that I’m not like all the other girls with reverse psychology .”

“Are you screwing with me?”

“Of course I’m screwing with you,” You take a sip of your drink. “If I were home right now I would be playing Lizzo on my record player, and drinking something with a medically unsafe level of caffeine.” You pause, “What brings you here?” 

“Honestly,” He looks out over the room, “I thought that this was going to be a much cooler party. Instead it’s just a bunch of reporters, and editors and media people.” 

“Who are inherent mood killers?” You ask. 

He narrows his eyes at you, “Am I allowed to say yes to that?” 

“You can do whatever you want,” You tease him, “You’re Harry Styles, who am I to tell you what to say?” 

“I feel like it was a trick question, which means that you are also a reporter.” 

You laugh again, “That was funny, I’m going to write that down for my story. ‘Harry is genuinely funny which he tries to use to make up for the lack of small talk abilities’.”

“You’re screwing with me again.” 

“Of course I am,” You say, “I work in the arts section of the Times, well not the actual art anymore but the movies and television.” 

“TV critic?” He says, “So you’re harsh.” 

“TV critics are just harsh for attention, I don’t need to be because no movie snob or well meaning director is going to go to the Times to see what we thought of any given movie. I write honestly, sometimes under the influence of caffeine and try to contain my excitement at narratively unnecessary plot twists.” You explain, “That and I get paid to watch TV, and usually private screenings of movies.” 

He leans against the bar a sign that he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon. You’re not going to say that you’re so awestruck by a celebrity that you have no idea what to say, or that he’s intimidating you but your hand shakes just a little as you clutch your fingers around the glass because he’s objectively attractive. Objectively attractive in the way that if he were on a dating app you would swipe yes and then put a lot of pressure on yourself to be funny and relatable even though you know that you don’t need him. 

“What did you think of Dunkirk?” 

“Oh!” You forgot that he acted, “That was before my time. I was working at the LA Times doing the music section then I think.” You know what he’s going to say next, “And before you ask yes there is a piece still posted of me reviewing your debut album. I think I reached out to get an interview with you, but I was suspiciously declined.” He looks embarrassed, “I was like under five years out of college I would’ve declined me too. They only gave me the story because it was the time where people weren’t sure that ex boyband members could make objectively good albums that meant something.” 

He tilts his head to the side for a second, “And? Can they?”

“I’m in no place to make a generalization,” You say, “But I think you did. Admittedly that album was something, very intimate.” 

“I don’t know if I should be taking that as a compliment.”

“I don’t want to give you a compliment because some people have a hard time with them, and this will get very awkward very fast. No shame, personally I have no mechanism to take compliments on my writing.” 

He laughs, “I think I can take it.” 

“Hmm.. okay,” You take another step back, “Okay are you sure you're ready?” 

“Yes.” 

“I think the entire album was very good, very unexpectedly good or at least I didn’t expect it to be. It was very open in that way that songs are vulnerable but still leave enough mystery that your fans don’t think you're a shitty person and I really like meet me in the hallway,” You say quickly, “In fact I listened to it just yesterday when I was working.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and then fake sighs, “See I don’t think that counts because it was more of a backhanded compliment.” 

“What?”

“You said you didn’t expect it to be good, that’s not really a compliment then-”

“I was saying it pleasantly surprised me,” You say, throwing your hands in the air in mock annoyance. “You surprise me, Harry.” He doesn’t say anything, and for a minute neither do you, but you snap back to life just in time to say, “Is that compliment enough to embarrass you?” 

He shrugs, but you know he’s messing with you. “It’s something but I don’t know if it’s really doing it for me.” 

“You are impossible, just another out of touch celebrity, is nothing ever good enough for you people?” It’s by now that you realize that you inadvertently closed the gap between the two of you, and you’re standing very close. 

He seems to realize this at the same time as you, “I-”

“Are you going to ask me to have sex with you?” You deadpan. 

“What?” He looks offended for a second, “No.” 

“I had to ask,” You tell him, “It’s happened before.” 

“I was going to ask you for your number.”

“See usually when a guy asks me that they’re asking so-” 

“It’s not for that.” 

“Then what’s it for?” 

He looks at you with something in his eyes that you don’t know the meaning of, “In case you want to do an interview, so that they don’t reject you this time.” 

You know that’s not it, but you give it to him anyway because he’s Harry Styles (which yes is not a valid reason but this ‘party’ is very boring and this is the most interesting thing to happen to you in at least the past week). It takes you a minute to remember which one is your real number and which one is the fake number you give off if a guy is asking because he wants a booty call, but you eventually give it to him. Then you scurry off with a quick goodbye when you realize how late it is, and how you do have work to do. There’s a new episode of Big Little Lies out tomorrow and you don’t understand why but people are very into the show, and very into your episode recaps. 

You corner Molly away from some guy you think might have actually been able to get her press access to the Met Gala and remind her that she also has a deadline tomorrow. The two of you go off to look for Fletcher and find him very close to sealing the deal with an objectively pretty girl, but you politely remind him that he has work to do and is very busy. The girl looks sad but let’s him go without much whining. You would’ve understood if she tried to get him to stay with her, he’s a little bit shorter than Molly but to be fair Molly is above averagely tall, and is nice and fit and has brown curly hair which you know from personal experience is sometimes just kryptonite. (you’ve kissed Fletcher before, long story, and can also say he’s on your top list of good kissers as well right up there with a guy you hooked up with in LA only to realize later that he was Robert Pattinson). 

Somehow the three of you are only able to make it back to your apartment. So the night ends with Molly and Fletcher in the living room on the couch and in a sleeping bag respectively, and you are comfortably in your bed. Your phone sits on your nightstand, suspiciously silent. You’re not waiting for Harry Styles to call you, nope, definitely not. 

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #my writing

[oneweekoneband]

Five Taylor Swift Photos From Magazine Spreads Which Make Me Feel Unmoored In Space And Time

This 2014 Rolling Stone piece is called Reinvention of Taylor Swift and heralds that she’s “left country behind”. I’ve always felt Taylor’s relationship to country music is more complicated than the simple case of a country darling seeing a chance at crossover superstardom and abandoning her down-home roots for bubblegum, namely because Taylor doesn’t actually have any down-home roots. Total domination was always the plan, and everything I know about this woman says it was always going to work, too. If anything, the country years represented a transactional relationship between an ambitious young woman and the genre best positioned to uplift and provide an instant audience for a white, blonde singer who wants to write love songs. The whole this is less A Star is Born, more A Star is Intentionally And Calculatedly Built. But 1989—the release of which feels so long ago now, so much more than six years, farther away in my mind even than the older albums for being less firmly planted in my own psychic landscape and heart, that to try and recall the experience of having been 22 and reading this article is close to impossible—mark a coronation of sorts for a whole new girl, shorn, shined, and repackaged for mass distribution, as this stripped down and honestly kind of hot cover shoot shows. During the interview, Taylor offers the interviewer a choice of six different flavors of sparkling water, which is a level of decadence that I cannot imagine, then starts talking about HBO’s Girls. In 2014 it was still basically talk about Girls or be instantly murdered by roving death squad. That was just what life was then. Taylor says she is a Shoshanna but my brain, brave ally, has erased every piece of knowledge I ever accumulated about that show so I don’t know if she was right. What I like about this particular photo, wherein “I like” means, “makes me a little feral” is how it calls to mind, like, the kind of black & white snapshot of lads being lads on a beach somewhere during a long ago war which, were it to find its way onto Twitter today, would be immediately quote RT’d like fifty thousand times like, “seems gay imo.”

The critical takeaway from this Vogue article is that until 2016 Taylor Swift hadn’t been to her Pennsylvania hometown in a decade. Yes, the family relocated to Nashville when she was a teenager to begin the construction of the Taylor Swift Industrial Complex but there’s still something odd and compelling to me about the fact that she never once went back to visit the supposed best friend Britany whose wedding is the impetus for the visit chronicled here. Maybe it means nothing! She did have kind of a busy decade, and things happen. Time passes faster than you’re ever expecting it to and the ten years between sixteen and twenty six are particularly slippery ones. Maybe! Or maybe Taylor Swift left that pre-fame life coolly in the dust, useless to her now, and doesn’t think of it at all except to clinically mine for content. Maybe Britany only had Taylor in her wedding because if you can get Taylor Swift to come, with a Vogue writer in tow, be your maid of honor, it would be difficult to resist the temptation not to do it, like, for the bit, and for probably a really expensive gift. Maybe the truth is more like a little bit of both. Regardless, there’s this proto-”seven” passage.

During a car ride earlier in the day, she excitedly pointed out landmarks: the creek where she and Britany used to play as kids; a weathered tree house in the front yard of the former Maack family home; the piney woods she and her friends used to think were haunted

Could be that Britany was the inspiration for the friend with the dad whose always mad in that dreamy piano track, but if pressed I’d put my money on Taylor just being enamored of the romantic americana of dirty children clamoring over creek beds full of ghosts, and unfortunately I can’t begrudge her that because same.

Every image from when Taylor did that Soft Focus Harley Quinn thing last year while in the throes of her full court press media blitz about how she is not only not a nazi but also Loves Gays, is to me an unbearable agony, a ruthless torment, a knife in my back, a stitch in my side, a terror I can’t unsee, a silent scream I can’t get out, but I find this one from Entertainment Weekly most upsetting of all. I am not saying that it is illegal to sit in the dirt wearing a pink and blue matching argyle sweater and short shorts combo with dumb dip-dyed hair and then not come out as bi, even, but I am saying abolish prisons for everyone except Taylor Swift, who should be in one.

This goofy goth photo shoot from 2017 is one thing, but the really important historical detail to note here is that UK Vogue, clearly absolute limp-wristed freaks, agreed to run these photos accompanied not by an interview with their covers star, but with a fucking poem she wrote. While I do think a poem in place of a proper profile is actually less morally objectionable than the famous person-”interviewed”-by-other famous person trend that’s eaten up so much of celebrity journalism, it’s still not really something a reasonable person can condone. If you have never read the poem... I actually think it’s not that bad! But, honestly, when I was sixteen I volunteered myself to edit my high school’s litmag (in order to be given a little money to have a litmag) and to my great surprise, having really assumed that I was basically just going to have, like, my own writing and some weird slightly, porny drawings from the anime club, shortly found myself inundated with piles of the most truly awful poetry ever produced, and was left to judge it all myself, and I believe the experience scarred my mind so badly that I still have great difficulty determining a good poem from a bad one with any clarity. “Hold on to childlike whims and moonlight / swims and your blazing self-respect” definitely would have made it into The Knightwriter, is all I’m saying.

When I am on my death bed, reeking and gasping, alive only technically, my family will gather close to provide comfort and receive my last words, hoping that they can offer me a sense of peace before the darkness falls. “Bring me my darling,” I’ll rasp, then choke on the air. And when nervous human children of my lineage are pressed to the bedside I’ll shake my head painfully, no, no, no, until finally they bring to me the one thing I truly love: this picture of Taylor Swift wearing a Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt in a 2015 Lucky Magazine photo shoot, for some reason.

#taylor swift #folklore

[karliesbuzzcut]

Okay, hi. I’m back from my expedition and I’m reporting back, as promised.

So, the Gaylor Subreddit has been gaining some popularity for quite some time. Which I’m honestly happy about since I always thought it was sad how deserted it used to be. When very rarely a brave new member would write a queer analysis, post it and then someone there would proceed to answer with a“yes, Taylor is gay and a liar and her face is puffy” — leaving everyone there a bit confused.

Now there’s a lot of activity and people actually seem to like Taylor. But as with any civilised society there needs to be rules.

Which doesn’t work great for PrettyAliens since she’s a proud TERF (or “turf” as she calls it🤷‍♀️), who’s predicting everyone will hate Taylor in 2022 for supporting Trans rights in 2019. Or something. To be honest, I’m not sure what she’s rambling about.

But she gives us her best material on her last posts. Messages which obviously were deleted (because again: ✨rules✨) after everyone else started looking at each other, wondering ‘who invited this person?’

PrettyAliens hasn’t been seen since then.

Moving on... yeah, PrettyAliens isn’t our only character this time around.

There’s a pinned post from a Mod introducing themselves and a new rule that goes something like “guys, let’s chill with all the body shaming going on here”. Which I think it’s fantastic but then again I’m a fucking snowflake.

Most people are okay with this but then Popparts — who in the past I’ve theorised she’s just one of PrettyAliens’ multiple personalities — writes a bloody essay on ‘why this is not okay’. I’ll spare you but it goes something like this:

“Body image is an integral part of Pop Music and if you don’t like it you shouldn’t be a Mod on a Taylor Swift board. You only have as much power as we want to give you”

Yes, it got very political — so much that she suddenly started going on about how the mod is silencing different cultures? Because Koreans don’t have any problems discussing Body Image? And something about Latin people being sarcastic? And as a Latina I feel identified with that statement but I don’t see how that’s relevant? Anyway I’m very confused so I’m just going to skip to the next part.

“What do you mean I can only speak positively about Taylor Swift’s body? What about MY rights? If you don’t like that talking about Taylor means talking about the way she looks, blame Madonna. It’s Madonna’s fault”

And that’s Popparts’ last relevant interaction.

Then, a new character comes in. Are you excited? I’m excited. This one is called CasuallyCruelHonesty which truly: great name. Really, ChefKiss of a name. But that’s my only compliment.

Anyway, CCH is also very angry about the new rules. What kind of dictatorship are we living in where I can’t say that Taylor Swift’s face looks puffy?

They went ballistic on the Mods. I’m talking “YOURE NOT MY REAL DAD” kind of tantrum.

Hey guys, are you still with me? Okay, good! Because CCH is about to make their grandiose exit. Ready?

In general, I just find it hilarious when people take silly matters on the internet so seriously. I mean, let’s all take a second to remember that these people are standing up for their ‘basic human right’ to call Taylor Swift “fat”.

Most of those comments were —of course— removed. Which led to this:

I’m sure most of you didn’t find that to be as funny as I did, but I freaking cackled because to me it read as that typical lousy comeback, e.g. “that looks like a parking lot” “your face looks like a parking lot”. Anyway, it’s funny OKAY? You just have to be inside my tiny curly head.

That would conclude the Gaylor Subreddit Saga for now...

But you know me, at that point I had to know more about CasuallyCruelHonesty. I’m just fascinated by people being so openly ~eccentric~ on the internet.

So I went into their profile and... they’re also a motherfucking TERF.

Serious question, here: WHERE ARE THEY ALL COMING FROM? Who forgot to close the Gate Of Hell on their way out?

Not only that, but just like PrettyAliens, Popparts and Rio211 before them: this person also feels really comfortable using the word “retard”,

Seriously guys, is it just me? Was I brought up inside a beautiful bubble? I honestly do not interact with anyone who uses that word these days. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe people around me know that if they say something stupid in front of me I’m going to write about it on my blog.

Whatever.

I wanted to leave on a high note, so here’s the best comment I found from them. I have no idea what they were replying to, nor do I care. All that’s important to me is that CasuallyCruelHonesty sat down and said to themselves “the fact that someone puts up with my bullshit on a daily basis is a great comeback”.

Apparently, they also take their mastubation lingo very seriously. I guess we all have matters we’re passionate about.

[dealbrekker]

Hey, I'm wondering if you have any good recommendations for books, movies or series? I followed you for soc and you seem to have a lot of other interesting fandoms and interests.

I like fantasy, but I don't want the world to be too different from our world. I like mysteries and paranormal stuff mostly but I can't seem to find any good ones lately. More realistic ones are good and I think that I need to read or watch more stuff like that.

I prefer if it has some of my favourite tropes like found family. Not too much romance or anything else.I read mainly YA but I really need to expand my taste more. I prefer series to be quite long but still bingeable. Movies are always good.

If you want to help me then that would be wonderful and I want to say thank you even before you answer.

Hello! I'd LOVE to give you some recommendations! I went through my goodreads and my own bookshelves to see what I have that match your interests and have compiled the following list!

Books/Series:

The Amelia Peabody mysteries by Elizabeth Peters: these are my most favorite books by my most favorite author. They're historical fiction/mysteries set in the 1880s to the 1920s Egypt. There are 20 books in the series. They're fantastic if you want a brilliant main character who is sassy, fun, smart, and crazy intelligent. There is some romance peppered in throughout, but this is extremely well done and isn't the main point of the books. Nothing explicit in the least either. Along the way more characters are introduced and become part of the found family trope. This series was started in the late 1970s. I highly recommend all of Elizabeth Peters' books, as well as those under her other pen name, Barbara Michaels. The first book in the Amelia mysteries is called Crocodile on the Sandbank. Not YA.

The Mercy Thompson series by Patricia Briggs: I'm a couple books behind in this paranormal/suburban fantasy series, but love it so much. There are currently around 11 books or so. Again, there is some romance, but the mysteries and supernatural elements are at the foreground. Werewolves, shapeshifters, vampires, the fae, and more feature. Mercy is a certified badass mechanic and coyote shapeshifter. First book is called Moon Called. Not YA.

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater. Now these you probably know and have possibly already read. Supernatural/paranormal YA series heavily featuring the found family trope. Beautiful and weird and just delicious. These books, for me at least, are more about the characters than the plot. First books is The Raven Boys.

The Constellation Trilogy by Claudia Gray: YA sci-fi! I'm not big on sci-fi but this wonderful trilogy is a fantastic way to dip your toe into the genre. It has one of my favorite characters I've come across in recent years, Abel Mansfield. He is the most darling, socially awkward Android you'll ever meet. First book is called Defy the Stars.

The Flavia de Luce series by Alan Bradley. This isn't YA but the main character is an 11 year old chemistry prodigy. She's fun and whip smart and has a nose for solving murder cases much to the local Inspector's chagrin. I think there are 9 or 10 in this series so far. The first is called The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

The Strange the Dreamer duology by Laini Taylor. Exquisite. Just gorgeous. The books read like a dream. Fantasy but not too fantasy. I'd consider these on the cusp of YA and whatever is above YA. The characters are in their mid to late teens, but it's a bit like SoC where the writing lends itself to an older audience. The first is Strange the Dreamer.

The Red Rising Saga by Pierce Brown. This is also a YA leaning more toward adult. Loosely I'd describe the first book, Red Rising, as Hunger Games on Mars. I've only read the first 3 books, but UGH the characters. UGH the action. Definitely has Found Family going on in it. If memory serves it can be a little graphic in the action and violence but isn't the worst I've ever read. More sci-fi that isn't too sci-fi.

Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson. Okay so here is where I deviate. This is higher fantasy than what I've recommended thus far. It's sprawling world building at its finest. That being said, it's still really humans, just on a different world where the plant and animal life is different. These are very long books, but just phenomenal. The cast of characters are incredible, the plots engaging. If you want to read this series, give it the time it deserves. Ive only read the first 2, and there are 4 currently. Sanderson has tons of other books and series that take place in the same universe, if I'm not mistaken, but I've only read the Stormlight Archive books so far. The first one is called The Way of Kings.

The Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss. Same disclaimer as the last one. More high fantasy. Tbh, I havent read these in a long, long time, but very much enjoyed them. A bit more complex as far as the magic, but the plot and characters are amazing so I wanted to mention them. First one is called The Name of the Wind and there are only 2 so far.

Shows:

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (on acorn TV and possibly bbca): 3 seasons of utter delight. Fun and flirty and moving. Takes place in the 1930s I believe, in Australia. Follows Phryne Fisher as she bursts her way into solving murders much to Inspector Jack Robinson's dismay. These two are AMAZING partners, no matter how reluctant. This is also a book series, but I haven't read them and have actually heard many people say they prefer the show

Lucifer (on Netflix.): I'm behind and I'm upset that I'm behind. Follows one cheeky devil as he assists a reluctant Detective Chloe Decker solve crimes (I am starting to see a theme in my own interests 😆). Funny but so emotionally moving as Lucifer navigates his way through his own humanity

Prodigal Son. Season 2 starts in January. It airs on Fox so I'm not sure off the top of my head where you can find season 1 readily available. Highly recommend. Follows Malcolm Bright, a serial killer Profiler for the NYPD. His father is a very famous serial killer, and he often gets tips from dear old dad to aid in his cases. Malcolm has tons of ptsd and trauma to work through, so the show touches upon these themes heavily.

Movies:

To be perfectly honest, I'm not a movie expert of any kind. I just watch what looks interesting to me. But my all time favorite movies are the 1999/2000 The Mummy and The Mummy Returns with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz. Just pure joy when I watch. Fun and so very quotable.

I also adore the Thin Man series from the 40s starring William Powell and Myrna Loy. Those 2 are absolutely relationship goals. So fun and sassy. A husband and wife crime solving team with a sassy dog named Asta.

This was so fun to put together for you! Let me know if you have anymore questions about anything I listed! Take care and happy reading/viewing!

#anon #ask #book rec #book recommendation #show recommendations #movie recommendation

[path-of-my-childhood]

Lana Wilson Says Her Female Crew Wasn't Taken Seriously While Filming Taylor Swift

By: Emily Tannenbaum for Glamour Date: February 10th 2020

The film, intentionally or not, explores Swift's shaky venture into feminism and how she understands her platform as one of the most famous women on the planet. So it should come as no surprise that director Lana Wilson and her all-female crew can relate to Swift's plight and have similarly learned to manipulate misogyny in their favor.

“When people see an all-female film crew, they assume they're not professionals. That's something I've encountered over and over again in my career and a lot of other female directors would probably say the same thing. People just come up to you and they're like, ‘Is this a school project?’” Even when they’re documenting Taylor Swift. “I do think it’s helpful for keeping a low profile,” Wilson adds.

Glamour spoke with Wilson one week after Miss Americana dropped on Netflix about the massive response to the film, working with the pop star, and, of course, that rumored ring.

Obviously you were an established filmmaker before this, but Taylor Swift is one of the number one pop stars in the world. How is life right now? It's been amazing. It's been overwhelming, and I have been totally stunned by the response. I usually make films where they're about subjects where I kind of have to coax or persuade people to watch them. And this is a film, I feel like everyone on earth watched it within the first 48 hours of it coming out.

How has the reaction to the documentary affected you? It was incredible, I knew there was going to be a big audience, but I hadn't been expecting anything like this. It's been such a positive reaction. People are connecting to it in a really deep way, which was, of course, my dream when making the movie. But I worked on it in secret, so for it to have this kind of reaction is the most gratifying thing in the world.

How did you keep your work a secret? Well, you lose a lot of friends, because everyone gets annoyed that you won't tell them what you're working on. [Laughs]

Considering the sensitive topics the film covered and her standing in the industry, how did you build your connection with Swift? I think one of the first things we connected about was about being artists in male-dominated industries. We had a lot of shared experiences even though we inhabit very different worlds. There were some things in common that I could totally understand about her experience because of my own experience as a female director. I think there's a layer of non-judgment, especially when it comes to stuff like talking about body image, talking about the sexual assault trial. I do think you have an extra layer of comfort there for sure.

Tell me more about how you chose to present her speaking out about her eating disorder? When she's in the car talking about body image, we put in these flat aspect images of her on the red carpet during the 1989 tour while she's talking because I think that those images of her when she was struggling with this makes it so much more visceral and more emotional.

I remember seeing those images, some of them in magazines or on the internet and I never thought that wasn't normal. You know how skinny she was. I didn't think twice about it. And I think when you see the images juxtaposed with her in the car now reflecting on it, you realize, wow, we all have a veil over our eyes. We're so used to seeing one type of body on every magazine cover in the supermarket and thinking that that's normal, and often beating ourselves up and hating ourselves if we don't look like that.

I think to see Taylor, someone who's an icon of beauty voicing these thoughts that so many people have had is incredibly, incredibly powerful because it's not something you would expect to hear, then it makes you kind of think back on everything you've seen in your own experience in a different way. I don't know if you read the incredible post that... is her name Nikki Glaser?

Yes. What did you think about that apology to Taylor? I thought that was so moving and brilliant, and I loved Taylor's response to her, too. I thought what Nikki Glaser was saying made so much sense. She said, "This is Psych 101; I was projecting because I was struggling with an eating disorder at the time." I thought that was a really brave and incredible thing to say. That made me think about if there's ever been a time where I've made fun of someone, I was probably projecting my own insecurities on them as well, you know? We did notice when we were looking at that archival material that a lot of that stuff was coming from other women.

God, I almost tear up like thinking about some of the notes I've gotten from teenagers about how they look in the mirror and they hate their body and they hate the way they look. But now that they've seen that Taylor has struggled with some of these same things too, and she's gotten through it and she's stronger and happier as a result, and that inspires them to keep going. It's just so moving.

What was the most unexpected thing about filming Taylor? The contrast between the extraordinary elements of her life and the ordinary elements. [There are] the very big and massive, spectacular, glittery times, but then these very mundane, normal moments. I really love the scene where she's eating a burrito. I know people have really responded to this scene, and I think it's because it's just her putting a chip in a burrito for crunch. There's something so great about when you get to a point when you're filming someone and they can relax enough to eat lunch and shoot the shit with their friends in front of you.

When you can film the boring stuff and you have that comfort level with someone, then you know you have access. You know, at that point. It's weird, but that was like a breakthrough moment for me because it feels like the camera isn't there.

When did that moment come? How long had you been filming her before you felt like you broke through to that point? At least a few months. But I will say that the first interview we did was the first interview she'd done in three years, and we did that audio-only. I think that was the moment when we really got to know each other and when I really started to see what the story of the film was, that first audio-only interview. It was just me and her, in a room for hours with a recorder.

Did any of that audio make it into the film? Oh yeah. When she talks about the sexual assault trial, that's from the audio interview.

Did Swift see the film at different points in the editing process, or did she not see it until it was finished? I wanted her to see it before it was finished because there's stuff in here - like her talking about an eating disorder - that I think is really important for her to be comfortable with that kind of stuff going out into the world. It was great because when we showed her the first cut, she loved it immediately. She was never like, ‘No, I don't want to go there.’ There was no off-limits area other than anything that would compromise her security.

Taylor's feedback was great. It wasn't like, ‘Oh no, we can't do this.’ It was feedback from another storyteller. She's such an extraordinary storyteller. So it made sense to me.

Before I let you go, I have to ask: When InStyle asked you about a potential engagement ring you said, "I'll have to watch the scene again." Did you watch the scene again? I was confused by what that person was talking about. They said it's the scene in the car where she was talking about her eating disorder, that there were flash frames of a ring. And I was like, I don't remember that. There was definitely nothing like that there. I know that people on the internet are freaking out about this later scene where she's wearing a ring. I don't know anything about... I think she just wears a lot of rings. I think people are overreacting to it a little bit. As far as I could see she's constantly just wearing lots of rings! [Laughs]

#thanks anon for sending me this =) #Lana Wilson #interview #about taylor #taylor swift #Taylor Swift: Miss Americana #body image #sexism

[custardcove]

Here’s a fifteen-questions meme I stole from my splat-blog! 

I’m not tagging fifteen people, but if you’re a mutual of mine that wants to take part, consider yourself tagged. 

1. Are you named after anyone? 

Pansy: A flower, if that counts! It’s a family tradition for the firstborn.

Ivan: Not exactly. I share a name with some video game character Alice liked the sound of.

Queenie: Sadly not. While I appreciate that my name stands out, sharing a name with one of my ancestors would’ve been a mark of pride.  

Taylor: Mmmnope. I like ‘Taylor’ enough because it starts with a T like Tomiichi, but I wasn’t named after anybody—though you know, as a point of interest, it was meant to rhyme with my brother’s name!

Neo: I was named after my grandmother.

-

2. When was the last time you cried? 

Pansy: Aw, man… I try to stay positive around Prim, but I do cry about silly stuff sometimes. Maybe a week ago? Sometimes the past just catches up to you.

Ivan: Longer than I can remember.

Queenie: What an invasive question! I don’t think that’s any of your business. I do not cry frequently.

Taylor: Now why’d you want to know a thing like that? I think I’ll keep it to myself!

Neo: Mind your own business.

-

3. Do you have kids?

Pansy: Have you met Primrose? That’s my daughter. She’s really sweet, but she’s also quite shy, so please keep that in mind.

Ivan: This is a difficult question to answer. I’d say no. I don’t think granting someone’s wish makes me a father.

Queenie: Not yet. I intend to.

Taylor: Woah, no! Do I look responsible enough to be a dad? Ahah…

Neo: No. I would rather not.

-

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? 

Pansy: I try not to, er, I’m not so great at it. And it’s kinda mean.

Ivan: I get reprimanded for being sarcastic. It happens regularly.

Queenie: What do you think?

Taylor: There’s always room for some well-placed sarcasm!

Neo: Any time I make a joke.

-

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? 

Pansy: I try to get a good read on folks—so, I guess their whole profile? That’s before I start looking at their individual features. If something sticks out to me from there, I’ll focus on that—but not in a mean way! Like, seeing someone’s smile, or if they’re carrying something, or their size, or claws. That’s what I mean.

Ivan: Their aura. It’s not difficult for me to discern a person’s moral alignment, and that’s important for my role.

Queenie: Their posture, how they walk, how they talk. It’s important for a first impression and can often be an indication of status. Or, perhaps more importantly, an indication of their intent…

Taylor: Their mood! I don’t want to step on the toes of anyone that’s angry, and happier people are more likely to give you the time of day, you know? Improving someone’s low mood is great too, but I have to gauge my limits.

Neo: I’m not known for noticing people. How social they are, I suppose.

-

6. What’s your eye colour? 

Pansy: Psychic pink! They do that thing where they get more vivid when I use my powers—just the psychic ones, though. And I don’t use those too much ‘cause I risk a headache… still, I like my eyes.

Ivan: Brown, orange.

Queenie: Smoky Quartz.

Taylor: Brown. You know, like coffee? If I were a coffee, I think I’d be a Caffe Latte. … But, yeah they’re darker than that.

Neo: …I don’t mind my eyes being green as much as my hair.

-

7. Scary movie or happy ending? 

Pansy: Don’t mind either one, but I’d prefer a happy ending, even in a scary movie. That said, there are scary movies I just won’t watch, so I guess happy endings win out.

Ivan: I don’t waste much time watching films unless I’m asked to, but I prefer a happy ending. A good story is the most important, though.

Queenie: Happy endings are far too sappy and saccharine, but I can’t say I receive much thrill from horror either. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy watching them … my favourite part of a movie is criticizing it.

Taylor: Happy endings, please! I can’t understand why anyone would want to scare themselves – unless it’s silly fun, but that’s different. Y’know, not that I scare easy or anything…

Neo: Scary movies tend to be more interesting, but… I don’t have anything against happy endings. Horror isn’t my genre, either, unless it’s psychological.

-

8. Any special talents? 

Pansy: I have a bit of a green thumb!

Ivan: That all depends on your perspective.

Queenie: I’m an excellent piano player.

Taylor: People tell me I’ve got a lot of charisma, and I consider that a talent!

Neo: I suppose converting myself into digital matter could be considered a talent.

-

9. Where were you born? 

Pansy: A town not so different from Erryton, actually! It’s not far.

Ivan: Great question.

Queenie: Enigma Island, not far from Thorn’s Peak.

Taylor: Would you believe me if I told you I couldn’t remember? Aha. I know we moved when I was really young.

Neo: Doesn’t matter.

-

10. What are your hobbies? 

Pansy: Well, like I mentioned, I quite like doing plant stuff. I used to sketch ‘em and make notes about ‘em too, but I stick more to the practical side these days. I also like to bake! Mainly pies, cakes and cookies.

Ivan: I play the flute and cithara. Next question.

Queenie: I have a wide array of hobbies. I enjoy painting, reading, and  playing the piano—as I have already mentioned. While I’m not … particularly adept at sewing, I practice cross-stitch on occasion. I also like to write poetry, and take a bit of interest in botany…

Taylor: Most of my hobbies have some aspect of music tied to them—I like playing the guitar, mixing tracks, and just listening to albums. But I also like playing videogames and taking apart machinery for fun. I can even help people fix things! Er, sometimes.

Neo: I read comics and watch movies, like most people. You wouldn’t be interested.

-

11. Do you have any pets?

Pansy: Not anymore, but I’ve had two cats – Mr Ravioli in my childhood home, and then Kiki later on. I’ve considered getting another, but I think I should wait until Primmy is a little older…

Ivan: No.

Queenie: Estelle! She’s a darling little kitty-cat and I love her so. <3

Taylor: One dog, a shibe—my father bred his, and I got a puppy. Tadashi!

Neo: My brother makes robots, and we have one of those roving floor cleaners. I would consider that a pet. We call him V.I.N.CENT.

-

12. What sports do you/have you played?

Pansy: I’m not really big on sports – I like magic fights? But I don’t do that a lot now.

Ivan: I may have taken part in some sport or another, but if I did, I did not commit it to memory.

Queenie: I like to swim, though I have not played any sports as such. I have also been horse riding—oh, and I’ve played badminton once or twice.

Taylor: Alice likes table tennis, and we play together sometimes. Apart from that, um… I’ve been asked to play football and baseball before?

Neo: I like to run. Parkour is fun too.

-

13. How tall are you? 

Pansy: Five foot seven, and I’m the shortest in my family…

Ivan: Depends.

Queenie: A reasonable five feet and ten inches without heels.

Taylor: Ahaha … let’s just skip this one, shall we? You don’t need to know that.

Neo: Taller than you.

-

14. Dream job? 

Pansy: I’ve pretty much got my dream job, all things considered! I guess I’d like it if I could get paid to do plant study, but I never really had the grades to do that as a job.

Ivan: I’m working on my rank.

Queenie: I have entertained the possibility of having a career before. Hotel management seems like an interesting prospect … or a jeweller, perhaps? Oho, I don’t know if I could be trusted to sell anything. Either way, I’m comfortable enough managing my home and finances.

Taylor: I’ve always wanted to be a big-name tv presenter—hell, even a small-name gameshow host! I’ve not given up on my dream yet, but being a radio show host is close enough. I can use it as a stepping stone. Yeah, a music quiz show would be great…

Neo: I don’t know. Even when it comes to things I like doing, I’m not sure I’d want to make a job out of it. Coding is just convenient.

-

15. Favourite subject in school? 

Pansy: Science! I also liked geography, ‘cause I was pretty decent at it.

Ivan: I have never attended school.

Queenie: I’ve both been to school and had private tutors, but my favourite subjects were history and literature. They rely on eachother, so were easy to write papers on.

Taylor: Apart from the obvious ‘music’, it was mathematics—and yes, I’m serious! I also liked science and IT.

Neo: From what I remember of school, I liked science and computing classes. The rest of what I learned was from online courses.

 That’s… that’s it? It just ends? Alright then.

#Pansy #Ivan #Queenie #Taylor #Neo #OC Questions

[shadyb00ts]

A Chromatica Review

So I never really use Tumblr, but when I do go on here, it’s pretty much to review something long-form. As you can tell from my profile picture here, and from my glowing review of ARTPOP from 7 years ago, I am and have always been a Gaga stan. Just read the melodramatic first paragraph of my ARTPOP review and you’ll get the gist of how much I idolize this woman. Well, idolized. Past tense.

That’s not to say I suddenly hate Gaga–I’m still going to follow her career and listen to whatever she puts out. There have just been several factors this past year that have changed my perspective on how I view her, this album being one of those factors. But I’ll get to those later. First I just need to lay out all my issues with this album.

Yes, this is going to be that type of review, so if you’re a fellow Gaga stan that isn’t able to criticize her work, this probably isn’t for you. Otherwise please read to the end if you can, because this is honestly about more than just the album.

Issue #1: The Mismatch Between Music & Aesthetic

When the cover of the album came out, I was so gagged. Like, just look at it! It’s striking, and Gaga has rarely ever disappointed me when it came to visuals. Actually, I can’t even think of any visual choices she made in previous eras that disappointed me. Even in the Joanne era, the pink cowboy hat became iconic and all of her aesthetic choices fit with the overall vibe of that album cycle.

So naturally, when she revealed to us the new visual direction she was taking for Chromatica, I assumed it would give us some insight into how the music would sound. The aesthetic of this era always gave me grungy cyberpunk and heavy machinery tease. When I look at the album cover for example, I can hear a song produced by SOPHIE in my head, the clink-clank queen herself. (There were rumors that Gaga was going to or did work with SOPHIE but that was never confirmed, unfortunately for us.)

For those unfamiliar with SOPHIE, here’s Ponyboy, which was most recently used in the ad campaign for Beyoncé’s Ivy Park clothing line.

That was the kind of production I was more or less expecting when taking the visuals into account; dark, metallic, basically similar to ARTPOP’s production (to be honest ARTPOP sonically fits better with the Chromatica aesthetic; think about it). 

But what did we get? Light, garden variety dance pop, a stark contrast to what the album cover and the promo images teased us with.

In the album, we get these orchestral interludes that are beautiful but don't really mesh that well with the actual tracks. The songs don't have any orchestral elements by themselves, so the interludes felt a bit misplaced to me. I wish they'd incorporated more of that into the individual songs, so that there could be an orchestral through-line to give more cohesion, like what Ariana did in her album positions by using strings. However I will say, the transition from Chromatica II into 911 remains unmatched.

I get that the album is supposed to sound happy, that it was her returning to her “dance pop roots” and singing about serious topics like mental health over happy-sounding beats, because it’s supposed to reflect her current mental state. I get all that. But if that was the case, I think she should’ve gone with a different visual direction to match. Personally I wish she went a different direction musically instead, but even if it was just the other way around and she changed the aesthetic of this era, my opinion of the album would probably improve slightly, cause at least there would be cohesion between the visuals and the sonics.

I look at that album cover, and promo images like the one below, and then I listen to songs like Fun Tonight or Plastic Doll for example, and there’s a noticeable dissonance there. 

You might be thinking “why are you so hard on her for this?” and I guess it’s because I’ve always held Gaga to a high standard when it comes to how she links those two elements. Think of every era she’s had in the past, and you remember how the visuals always just worked with their respective albums.

And that’s before I’ve even talked about the videos. Oh lord, the videos.

Issue #2: The Videos Are Lackluster (Except For 911)

It started with Stupid Love, the lead single. I had mixed feelings about that song in the beginning, but because I was so thirsty for new music from Gaga at the time, I played that song like hell when it leaked and it was on rotation for a good while. But when Gaga premiered the Stupid Love video, I’m not going to lie; I really didn’t like it.

The whole “shot entirely on iPhone” schtick really did the video a disservice. I’m sorry but it had to be said. If I imagined the video with a higher budget and more of a plotline as opposed to just being a dance video, I think it could’ve worked a lot better and been a decent introduction to not only Chromatica the album, but this fictional world/planet that she’s created. Which by the way, she didn’t really deliver in that regard either. 

The concept of Chromatica being a fictional world could have been expanded on further; she could’ve showcased all of the different factions (I know they were called “tribes” at first but that’s appropriative so I’ll call them factions) and perhaps had an overarching storyline about how these factions are at war, and it’s Gaga’s job as one of the “Kindness Punks”, as she calls it, to bring everyone together for a rave.

This is why I will always say it: Chromatica needed to be a visual album. Just imagine the storyline I mentioned just now being turned into a full-length feature, and now imagine the album’s orchestral intro playing as they’re essentially opening the gates to Chromatica and Gaga discovers this world for the first time, and then it goes into the first song Alice where she’s meeting all the factions and getting acclimated to her surroundings.

Honestly I could go on and on cause I have thought about this for SO LONG now and I’ll never shut up about it. It’s just such a missed opportunity cause the concept was just begging for a visual album. Anyway sorry for my tangent: back to the Stupid Love video.

The whole “shot on iPhone” gimmick really was unfortunate. Like she really ruined the quality of a music video because she wanted that Apple check??? Come on, Gaga, there could’ve been some other way to secure that check.

And then there was the Rain On Me video, which definitely have visuals that are a massive improvement from Stupid Love because it was professionally shot and cinematic. But even that was another purely dance video with not much in the way of storyline. Not that storyline is always required for music videos, but I think specifically when it comes to Chromatica, not having storylines in the M/Vs does a disservice to the overall concept.

I guess my issue with these two music videos, but mostly Stupid Love, is that Gaga isn't fully utilizing her COIN. Like she's successful enough to the point where she has budgets for these videos and can go all out, but doesn't. She has the capacity for extremely high production value, but up until 911, the last video she did that had that level of extraness was G.U.Y. I miss the days when her music videos were an event. I still remember where I was and what I was doing the exact moment the Telephone video came out. That's impact.

Taylor Swift I think is somebody who really knows how to blow her budget on a video. Look What You Made Me Do may have been a terrible song, but I always thought the video was sickening.

Anyway, I have no notes on 911. She's a masterpiece. If there was a music video category at the Oscars, I'd be campaigning for it right now.

Issue #3: Any Other Girly Can Do This

The thing I always loved the most about Gaga's music was that nobody was doing it like her. Everything she put out always felt like it was distinctly hers and hers alone, it's unmistakable. Even in Joanne, despite that album being a major departure from what she normally did.

I know Joanne is a very polarizing album, even for Little Monsters, but personally I've always loved it. Joanne was an album that I always knew she would make and I thought was essential to her career and body of work. Despite her straying away from pop for a more earthy, grass roots sound, it still sounded very much like her music. Even from the first track, Diamond Heart, her DNA is all over that.

It's difficult to explain what exactly I mean when I say there's a certain signature "Gaga-ness" or that she has a very specific DNA injected into her songs. If you've been a fan of hers for a long time or followed her career, you probably understand what I'm referring to. It's the way she laughs maniacally in the beginning of ARTPOP on Aura, how she says "I don't speak German but I can if you like, OW!" and proceeds to recite broken German on Scheiße, how she invented the phrase "disco stick", literally the ENTIRETY of The Fame Monster.

These examples probably give you the gist of what I'm trying to convey. Gaga is fucking weird. She has always been fucking weird and I love that so much about her. And her brand of weirdness was so specific that if any of the other pop girls tried to do what she did, it would have been cringey as hell. To me, the most disappointing thing of all with this album was that this weirdness that was so uniquely hers was missing.

It's there in brief moments, in tracks like Sour Candy, 911 and Babylon, but most of the album doesn't really sound like her music. It sounds like songs that she wrote for other people, like her old unreleased stuff. OG Little Monsters probably remember songs like Second Time Around and No Way. These were leaked unreleased songs that Gaga had written for other artists, and even though they were absolute bops, they didn't sound like her. They weren't supposed to.

A similar feeling I had was when her song The Cure came out a few years ago. I genuinely thought that was something she wrote for someone else, cause even though it was a solid pop song, it absolutely had zero Gaga-ness and any current pop girl could sing it. This pretty much encapsulates how I feel about the majority of Chromatica.

I was gonna say it sounded like songs that were written for Ally, her Star is Born character, but I think even those pop songs from the soundtrack sounded more Gaga than Chromatica does. 💀 I can easily imagine Hair Body Face being on The Fame.

Final Thoughts

It's funny that the last review I had posted on here before this was my review of Kingdom Hearts III. The Kingdom Hearts game series is something that's very near and dear to my heart, and I waited a wholeass decade for the third game to come out. And then it did, and I was so disappointed.

So you know what happened after that? What helped me deal with my disappointment of that game was my anticipation for Chromatica, or at the time it was still called LG6. I had no idea I would feel the same exact way about this album the way I do about KH3. Now when I think of both of these things, I'm mostly frustrated by all of the potential and the missed opportunities, but I also look at them with a certain fondness. I had fun playing KH3, and I also had fun listening to Chromatica, despite both of them disappointing me overall.

In the beginning of this review I said that there were certain factors that have stopped me from idealizing Gaga too much. Firstly it's because I'm much older now, and secondly it's due to the sheer state of the world this past year. The pandemic really precipitated the fall of celebrity culture, and all of that made me really examine how putting someone on such a high pedestal can be damaging in the long run.

Gaga is a human being and I haven't agreed with everything she's done, particularly how she handled the whole R. Kelly situation back in 2013. And also the simple fact that she's a white woman, we know how a lot of the time they can't help but show their asses and are bound to disappoint us in some way. I'm forever grateful for her artistry and how she saved my life when I was a suicidal little eighth grader, but I'm also going to hold her accountable for any of her mistakes, and I'd be ready to stop supporting her entirely if anything she does ever goes too far.

Now I stan artists for fun. It's not healthy to idolize them to the point of revering them. I mean, I like to make jokes like that about Beyoncé, like "no way on Beyoncé's green earth", etc. But even she is just a person that we shouldn't deify for real.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Chromatica being a lackluster album and era ended up being a good thing, because it helped me grow out of idolizing celebrities too intensely. Chromatica was pretty much the best disappointment I've ever listened to.

If you've read all the way to the end, thank you! Writing this was very therapeutic but also stressful; this is a second draft cause Tumblr fucked up my first post. 😭

Anyway, SAWAYAMA & Ungodly Hour are albums of the year. Argue with the wall.

#album review #gaga #lady gaga #chromatica #pop music #review #music

[heatherjeff]

2020 Book List

It has been ages since I have written and, like everyone else, there seems to be a bit more unstructured time in my everyday life. It makes perfect sense the impetus for a return to blogging is books, reading is fundamental! 

My friend, KDaddy, annually shares the list of books he’s read. The first time I noticed his list I was thrilled, took notes, commented on how happy I was, and proceeded to read many of his recommendations. When it became clear 2020 was going to be a little different books became an even bigger part of my days as well as an escape from the grind of the news and the pandemic.

When KDaddy tagged me with his book list this year, it occurred to me I have a little platform where I can post my own year in review. Books are the best and reading has served me well my whole life, 2020 was no exception.

First, a few facts. This year I read 35 books, for comparison I read 24 in 2019. That makes me happy especially since there are not a million things about 2020 to invoke a sense of accomplishment. I have long kept a book journal since my title and author memory is similar to a sieve. At the start of the pandemic everyone in my house was gifted a kindle, I was not a fan of the plan, paper books are my love language. As this time has worn on, the kindle has proven to be a brilliant and magical purchase. Libby is a completely modern wonder and the next time I am in NYC I will, for sure, treat myself to a library card from that library system.

With no further ado let’s talk books.

Definitely Read:

The Nightingale: A Novel by Kristin Hannah

Two sisters reacted to the unfolding atrocities of WWII in very different ways. Both were fierce, suffered in ways unimaginable to most of us, and illustrated the many ways women are impacted by a war. Such a powerful read.

The Home for Unwanted Girls by Joanna Goodman

Great read based on a true story about a teenager who became pregnant. Her family forced her to give up her baby and it was placed in a mental institution for the sole reason the child was an “orphan”. Many more plot twists follow, this was a gem of a book.  

Women in Sunlight: A Novel by Frances Mayes

This book kicked off as total cliche and morphed into complete life goals. Three older women, all single for a variety of reasons, strike up a friendship and move to a Tuscan Villa. I want to be them someday in Italy living with the locals.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer

YA This came highly recommended from my youngest. It opened his eyes to the world in a huge way and he was very committed to sharing this story with all of us. William is a complete force of nature and against (truly) all odds changes the trajectory or his family, his village, and his life with ingenuity and desire. Love this book so much.

Little Fire’s Everywhere: A Novel by Celeste Ng

Heard so much about this book and completely loved it all. So. Many. Plot. Twists.

Dear Martin by Nic Stone

YA read from my kid, a MUST read. This book was chilling on a 1,000 different levels. Race, police profiling, education, culture- Nic Stone packed it all in and it opened my heart and sparked some good conversations in our home.

Girl, Woman, Other: A Novel by Bernardine Evaristo

This thoughtfully constructed book was a gift from another reader friend and is one of my favorite reads of the year. It shares multiple first person layered viewpoints from British women who span every part of society. Great read.

Dutch House by Ann Patchett

Let’s be clear, I love Ann Patchett. Love. Whenever she authors a new novel I am jazzed and the Dutch House is no exception. The house becomes an actual character in the story and has everything to do with the brokenness of family who moves into it.

Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of Nike by Phil Knight

Unpopular opinion, I am not a fan of Nike. I am a tremendous fan of Phil Knight’s innovation and hustle. Phil is a visionary and expert storyteller.

The Tatowist of Auschwitz: A Novel by Heather Morris

The novel is based on interviews with Lale Sokolov, a Slovakian Jew who used his position of relative privilege to positively impact the lives of as many fellow prisoners as possible. I had to read this book fast since it impacted my sleep, which it should. Incredible read.

American Dirt: A Novel by Jeanine Cummins

Ooofff, this book is hard to read. I started and stopped because I could not sleep and opted to read it during daylight hours only. It is seriously terrifying in a million ways. It is about a family who has to flee from Alcopulcio to the United States due to extreme violence from the local and very well connected drug cartel. This book is a testament to the grit of illegal immigrants and an eye opening read about the terror they face.

Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson

True story of Bryan Stevenson’s quest to navigate the criminal justice system in the rural south where he aims to help the most disadvantaged in the system. Timely, eye opening, and full of action items we all need to help with for the betterment of our society.

City of Girls: A Novel by Elizabeth Gilbert

Books by Elizabeth Gilbert are some of my favorites and I was concerned when I started this book, it was a struggle. It came together and I ended up loving it. A story about NYC in the 1940’s centered around a girl/woman who is sent to live with her aunt at her playhouse full of showgirls. It was such an unrelatable read, it transported me to a time I have never really considered and it was a trip worth taking.

Totally Enjoyable:

True Colors by Kristen Hannah

Reads like YA fiction and I loved it. It’s about a ranch family, their horses, land, siblings, their live father and deceased mother. It is not deep and is a fun read.

In a Dark, Dark Wood by Ruth Ware

This book was intense, fun, & slightly scary. A “hen party” in a, literal glass house, becomes the scene of a murder.

The Queen of Hearts by Kimmery Martin

This is a fun read about two best friends who become doctors together and then the plot thickens. Can’t say more, it is complicated.

Freud’s Mistress by Karen Mack

This was my last library loan before the pandemic. It is a fascinating read based loosely on the dynamics of Freud’s family, drugs, affairs that feel a bit like incest, a huge male ego, this should not sound familiar in any way!

The Sun is Also a Star by Nicola Yoon

YA, loaner from my kid (which came to my nightstand highly recommended). This is a sweet, sweet love story of two teenagers who have very different backgrounds and lots of big feelings. The whole book takes place over the course of one day.

It All Comes Back to You by Beth Duke

This was a surprise hit and it sucked me in. The story is about a nurse in a retirement community who befriends a resident who lived a big life.

The Queen’s Fortune: A Novel of Desiree, Napoleon, and the Dynasty That Outlasted the Empire by Allison Pataki

I admit, I am a fan of royalty, it is so intriguing and this book was completely spellbinding. The story is based on Napoleon's France and it was messy.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

NF This book is amazing. A poor black woman has cancer cells removed from her body, these rapidly reproducing cells become known as HeLa cells and change the trajectory of modern medicine. There are so many consequences from this seemiling small discovery and the impact to the medical world and to Henrietta’s family are far reaching.

The Woman in the Window: A Novel by A.J. Finn

Read this in one day at the beach, I was sucked into this story of Anna Fox and her salacious neighborhood drama.

The Last Romantics by Tara Conklin

I know I liked this book and made a note about the “pause” taken over the summer when the kids in the family basically ran wild. That’s all I’ve got.

Untamed by Glennon Doyle

There was a ton of hype around this book and it is well deserved. Glennon tells it like it is and, like it or not, she has a lot of points that hit. I read this on my kindle and think I would have liked reading the physical book more.

This is the Story of a Happy Marriage by Ann Patchett

Short stories from Ann Patchett? Yes, 100% yes. The story of her relationship with Lucy, of Truth and Beauty: A Friendship, was wonderful as was the explanation of her book store in Nashville.

After You: A Novel (Me Before You Trilogy) by Jojo Moyes

I have zero idea that Me Before You was a trilogy! It is a total candy read, you are not going to learn much about your soul or the universe, but it is fun and better than TV. And yes, I will read the third book in the trilogy because candy is good! 

The Saturday Night Supper Club by Carla Laureano

Also a trilogy, another happy surprise. This book is fun, another candy read, and so appealing. When I was a kid I wanted to have a restaurant so this story made my heart happy. It is a bit too clean, a bit cliche, and an enjoyable read.

Daisy Jones & The Six: A Novel by Taylor Jenkins Reid

This novel will transport you to a land of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I read this was loosely based on the story of Fleetwood Mac, true or false, this book captures a moment in history and reads a lot like a play and is completely enjoyable.

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng

This is the book written before Little Fires Everywhere, similar deal-  family strife/mystery, kind of riveting with lots of twists. Solid read.

Maybe You Should Talk to Someone: A Therapist, HER Therapist, and Our Lives Revealed by Lori Gottlieb

NF, look at a therapist who finds herself in need of therapy. It is kind of a russian doll type of read with layers, upon layers, hidden within each other.

With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo

YA, another loaner from my kid. Such a great book about a kid who wants to be a chef and express herself through her cooking. She is a teen mother living with her abuela, it is a heartwarming book and I love the main character’s spirit.

Sidenote: schools around here are closed for the duration yet students can reserve library books and go to the local library of your choice where their school librarians greet them, warmly, in the parking lot for a drive by pick-up. It is a wonderful and much appreciated service being offered to our kids.

Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty

This book is ridiculous, it had a strong start, went sideways but was fun and overall enjoyable. The premise is nine people descend upon an exclusive health retreat. The woman who is in change morphs from motivating to overlord, obviously.

No Thank You:

13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher

YA read, loaner from my daughter. I did not like this one bit, it made sucide seem so glam. Glad I read it and am always happy when my kids share books with me and I will always hate stories of kids’ suffering.

There There: A Novel by Tommy Orange

This book was hard to follow, had too many characters, and there was a very dark thread that I did not enjoy.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

This book hit me at the wrong time this year. The dystopian nature felt a little too close to home. I know it is a work for the ages but it was all ouch.

Wow, that felt good to reflect on and process. I have never really looked for threads in my own reading and knew a few things already but like seeing the balance of candy books and hard, timely topics. All in all I feel great about my 2020 reading list and hope there are titles that interest or resonate with you too. Here is to libraries reopening someday in the near future so we can browse the shelves with abandon.

#bybye2020 #don't call it a comeback #maybe a comeback