#oh he is SUCH a sweetheart. i would also be handling this anthem like this. actually. i'd be handling it worse. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamwritesimagines · 6 years

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Don’t You Love Me? 11-Wild Fire [Steve Rogers x Reader]

A.N.: Your feedback makes me so happy and helps me write faster, please keep it coming! <3

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of addiction, self destructive behavior, cussing, explicit language, mentions of sex.

Summary: Threats get closer.

Word Count: 3370

Read Chapter 1 here!

Read Chapter 2 here!

Read Chapter 3 here!

Read Chapter 4 here!

Read Chapter 5 here!

Read Chapter 6 here!

Read Chapter 7 here!

Read Chapter 8 here!

Read Chapter 9 here!

Read Chapter 10 here!

The beautiful moodboard is made by fictionwillneverdie

Gif’s not mine!

It was as if Steve had his own orbit when it came to keeping you away from your usual bad habits. Instead of whiskey, you had decided to get a huge cup of coffee that morning and Steve hadn’t even give you time to reach into your wallet when it was time to pay.

The barista looked way too starstruck by Captain America to notice you anyway.

You looked up at the huge tower, and turned to Steve who sipped his coffee.

“You know we will never hear the end of it, right?”

“I wanna say you’re wrong but knowing Bucky…”

“Bucky? Dude, wait until you see Tony!” You climbed a couple of steps but giggled when Steve tugged you by your hand, turning you around and pulling you closer.

“Steve!” You exclaimed, giggling as he lifted you slightly, while you tried your hardest not to spill your coffee, “Such a shame we can’t do it once we walk in…”

“Exactly why I’m doing it here.” Steve mumbled and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I mean we need to look…well-“

“Professional?”

“Less horny was the word I was gonna use, but-“ You grinned when Steve smiled slightly and put you down. “Yeah, I get it. Besides, I don’t wanna be accused of corrupting our hero-“

“Y/N…”

“But I will create lots of rumors; I hope you’re ready for it.” You stated, “For example, Steve Rogers sings national anthem before sex-“

“We didn’t even-“ Steve started but stopped when he saw how you wiggled your brows,

“That’s not what they think, Rogers. They think we’ve been getting it on for days.”

“…You wouldn’t.”

“Steve Rogers calls out the names of presidents before 21st century during sex.”

“Sure, you can lie about that if I’m allowed to say you cry during Titanic.”

You gasped, “Have you no honor?! That’s private!”

“And you can sign that song from beginning till the end- twice, if I may.”

“It’s catchy!” You called out as he started walking and you rushed to catch him.

“Speaking of, how do we play this?” You asked Steve as soon as you stepped into the elevator and he looked down at you,

“Hm?”

“Because if a roomful of geniuses and or super agents think we’re banging, it’s too much of an opportunity to pass.”

Steve frowned, deep in thought, “What do you have in mind?”

“Just uh… Okay, just follow my lead.” You said as soon as the elevator doors opened and both of you walked to the kitchen, and sure enough, all of them were there. You suppressed your grin and made your way to coffee machine.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey there,” Pepper said with a smile and Tony looked between you two.

“Nice to see both of you again, after holing up in your apartment,” he said, “But I guess you both needed it.”

“Tony!”

“Everything-uh… everything’s fine, Stevie?” Bucky asked, making him roll his eyes and you cleared your throat.

“Actually I have- we have an announcement to make.” You stole a look at Bruce “Dr Banner, what do you know about that uh… super soldier serum?”

Natasha frowned slightly as she looked at Bruce while Clint crossed his arms.

“Not- not much? Why?”

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” You cleared your throat, “It’s okay if I say it, right Steve?”

Bucky sat up straighter while Pepper’s grin faded slightly. “What’s going on?”

“I-um… I think I might be pregnant?”

Pepper’s jaw dropped as Bucky stared at Steve, smacking his arm and muttering something to him.

“Bullshit.”

“Yeah Tony, because I’m laughing so hard right now.” You stated with a solemn expression “And Steve is just the guy to joke about something like that.”

“I mean we’re not-“ Steve coughed “We didn’t know, obviously. But the serum-“

“Speeds everything up.” You nodded and Clint leaned forward, frowning.

“Actually I sort of see it.”

You pulled your brows together, “Wait, you do?”

“How much does it speed it up?”

“Bruce, she’s joking.” Tony shook his head and Pepper stole a look at you, then repressed a smile when she saw you wink,

“No it’s true.” She said, “She um- that’s why you called me crying yesterday, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine sweetheart, we’ll figure it out.”

“So it should take about a month?” Steve asked, “Give or take, right Y/N?”

“Yeah I would say so,” you nodded, “So we should probably shop for…”

“Cribs and everything.” Steve nodded, “Yeah, I was gonna say that.”

“Because you know-“ a smile you couldn’t stop made its way to your lips, “It’s better to be prepared- Jesus Christ guys, look at your faces!”

Steve started laughing and Bucky threw his head back, letting out a relieved breath. Natasha only rolled her eyes and Tony shook his head while Bruce sat back down.

“Also, I sort of see it?” You flipped Clint, “Rude.”

“You were pretty convincing-“

“Nah man, I’ll put a ring on it before I bang that.” You winked at Steve, making him shake his head while smiling at you fondly.

“Fury wants to see you two.” Tony interfered and you made a face,

“Great, I’ll avoid him again.”

“Might be a bit hard, seeing he’s standing behind you.”

You scoffed, “You know it’s not a good idea to answer to a joke with a joke-“

“Y/N.”

“Holy fuck!” You jumped up and pressed a hand over your chest as you turned around to see Fury glaring at you, “How are you so silent, man?!”

“You talk too loud to hear anything else,” Fury stated, “Both of you, in the conference room.”

“You- I was joking about the pregnancy, you know that?”

“Come on,” Steve said as he steered you towards the conference room and you groaned, throwing your head back.

“I haven’t even got my alcohol yet…”

“You’ll live,” Steve said as both of you walked inside.

“For the records…” Fury said as both of you took your seats, “I could not care less about what is going on here,” he motioned between you, “I don’t give a fuck who fucks-“

“Very wise words, sir.” You quipped, “Even if Steve’s ears are bleeding, I appreciate the sentiment-“

“I had to sit through a bullshit briefing because of you Y/N, so if I were you…”

“Got it.” You pursed your lips and leaned back while Steve only raised his brows. Fury cleared his throat,

“I should’ve let Hill handle this…” he mumbled to himself as he pulled open a drawer and took out papers, “Sign this, and I’m gonna need verbal confirmation that this won’t affect anything.”

“Well… I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t fire Steve, so am I being fired?”

Steve’s head shot up, “What? Fury, I-“

“No one is getting fired.” Fury cut him off and you looked down at the documents “You’re both working under SHIELD and it’s the standard procedure in case shit goes down…”

“We break up, you mean.”

“Break up?” You repeated and stopped yourself from asking “Are we even together?” at the last second. This was neither time nor place, so you managed to skim the lines, then looked up.

“Am I having a stroke right now or did SHIELD just ban us from having rough sex?”

Steve checked the document in front of you, then tried to find the page while Fury pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh.

“Both parties agree that neither of them will engage in any physical activity that may damage them outside missions and/or keep them from attending missions.” Steve read out loud and you tilted your head.

“Yeah, so no rough sex, Cap.” You grinned at the way Steve’s cheeks reddened a little, “No whips, no handcuffs, no riding crops-“

“We all understand what you mean, Y/N thank you.”

Steve massaged over his brows, closing his eyes but you shrugged your shoulders,

“Where’s the part where you give us a list of allowed positions?” You wondered out loud, and Fury crossed his arms,

“Did you think dating Captain America came with no strings attached?”

“Dating-“ you let out a nervous chuckle, “Let’s just… not jump on stuff sir.”

Steve’s eyes turned to you but he remained silent while you turned the page,

“Neither parties can give any details of their missions to one another- what if we’re working on the same thing?”

“Next paragraph clears that out.” Steve said helpfully, pointing at the next paragraph and you tilted your head.

“Oh-“ You heaved a sigh, as Steve turned the page “Fury come on. You know we’re both professionals so we won’t-“

“I’m sorry I’m interrupting but In case there is a third person is involved?”

Your head shot up, “Threesomes?! You added an article on threesomes?!”

“…Neither of the parties will give any secret information to the said third party.” Steve kept reading out loud and you scoffed.

“Yeah because my idea of dirty talk is giving away confidential government secrets.”

Fury looked like he would rather be anywhere but there, “Sign it and save us all from this situation which I will pretend never happened.”

“I’ll sign it and put it above my bed so that we can be sure we’re not breaking any rules.”

“Y/N…”

“Steve, you’re signing something that talks about threesomes and you can keep a straight face-“

“No, this is about cheating.” Steve said and looked at Fury, “Right? Third person?”

“It means whatever the way you want to interpret.” He stated “If you want to think it over, keep it. I’ll get it tomorrow and you-“ Fury turned to you, “You’re coming to SHIELD with me. One of the guys messed up your system, we need you to fix it.”

You ran a hand over your face and groaned, “I told everyone there a thousand times-“

“Yeah, save it for headquarters, be in the car in fifteen.” Fury walked out, muttering something about being too old for this shit and you turned to Steve, smiling slightly.

“So this is awkward…” You gathered the file in your lap and Steve nodded,

“Oh yeah.”

“Because like, there goes my list about threesome-“

“Are you okay?” he asked and you pulled your brows together,

“Hm?”

“Because I told you, the minute you are uncomfortable…”

“I’m not uncomfortable, I’m just- they’re pretending like we’re getting married or something.”

Steve stayed silent so you felt like you had to insist a little,

“Don’t you think so?”

“Yeah but like he said, if it’s the standard procedure...”

“What if something goes bad though?”

Steve frowned, “Like what?”

“Like- like everything. Like you could suddenly have a change of heart-“

“Nowhere here does it say we can’t break up, Y/N.” Steve’s expression was totally calm opposed to your crazy heartbeat, “No one is trying to trap you in something.”

Damn his observation skills.

You swallowed loudly and nodded, “Yeah.”

“You know that, right?”

“Mm hm.” You cleared your throat, “I should- you know… Fury. Doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Steve looked like he wanted to oppose but in the end he said nothing, then grabbed the papers, shaking his head.

“Jesus…”

“Sorry about the rough sex.” You smiled slightly and he pressed a small kiss to your lips, making your stomach do a flip.

“I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, you’ll be here?”

“I think so. Tony was talking about this new mission-“

“Shh, I’m not supposed to know,” You giggled, and he rolled his eyes as you walked out of the room. You took the elevator to go downstairs and got in the car before Fury started it.

“I can’t believe this is the standard procedure man…” You mumbled as you took a look at the lines once again, “But it doesn’t say here that we can’t have disgusting couple nicknames. What happens if he’s on a mission and I start referring him as my cuddle-cap bear?”

“Y/N…”

“My capcake?”

“Jesus Christ…”

“My spangle sprinkle?”

Fury shook his head slightly, making you smirk.

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe I disagreed with Maria.”

“I don’t even know what the subject is but that’s a mistake which you shouldn’t repeat.” You quipped, “On what?”

“Maybe it’s not that fucked up.”

“Steve and me?” You arched a brow, “And how is that not fucked up?”

Fury repressed a smile, “What is this, twelve o’clock?”

“Mm hm.”

“You’re still sober.”

You paused for a second, then a smile made its way to your lips before you looked out the window silently, the warmth filling your insides.

Yeah.

Maybe it wasn’t that fucked up after all.

You ran the algorithm in the system, stretching out your body as you leaned back in your chair. This was taking longer than you hoped it would and for some reason, you had missed Steve already so you were pretty restless to go back to the Tower.

Dating Captain America.

That was what Fury had said, wasn’t it? Dating Steve. And Steve had shown no sign of disagreement to that.

Maybe it was the time difference. It wasn’t like you knew how dating worked in forties, but you were pretty sure people were used to labeling their…

Their relationships.

Now to think of it, you had no idea when the last time you had labeled a relationship was. Except for the Trent situation of course.

Even the thought of it made goosebumps rise on your arms and you rubbed your arms, annoyed at yourself. You pulled open the drawer to check if you had any cigarettes but the package was empty, making you cuss under your breath. The second package you found had couple of cigarettes in it and you grabbed the package and the file to stand up, but you almost crashed into Sharon as soon as you did. The papers flew everywhere and you kneeled down to get them.

“Shit, sorry!”

“No problem, totally my fault.” Sharon said as she rushed to help you while you picked them up “Have you seen Fury?”

“Mm hm, he’s at his office. Hill was there too though, so I’d uh…wait a little.”

“Got it.” Sharon said and handed you the last page of paper, where your and Steve’s name was written. Her eyes fell on it and snapped back to you as you placed it on your desk and stood up.

“Is that the…um-“

“Yeah. Standard procedure.”

Sharon raised her eyebrows, “I see.”

“It wasn’t-“ You paused, “When you asked, nothing was going on. Very recent, so I wasn’t trying to hide or anything.”

Sharon nodded, “Oh- of course.” She tried to smile, “Congratulations, Steve is a really nice guy.”

You pursed your lips, for some reason, jealousy was running through you nonstop, “Yeah, thank you.”

“I’d better go find him.” Sharon said, “I’ll- uh… see you around?”

“Sure! Sure, yeah, I’m around.” You said as she walked away and you rubbed at your eyes, then grabbed the package and went to the balcony. As soon as you lit your cigarette, your phone started ringing, making you take a look at caller I.D and you smiled before you answered.

“Hey there Cap. Did you come across any other stupid article in the-“

“Where are you?” he cut you off and you pulled your brows together, exhaling the smoke.

“Um- I’m at the headquarters?”

“Inside?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Steve, that might not be a good idea-“ You heard Bucky’s voice and your heartbeat sped up, making you put down the cigarette.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m coming to get you, okay? Don’t go out.”

“Did any of you call Fury?” You heard Pepper ask but she was interrupted by Bucky once again.

“Steve, you can’t-“

“What the fuck is-“ You started but turned your head to see people rushing inside the office, some of them walking to their computers and some of them running to turn on the TV.

This was never a good sign.

The panic flooded you and you held the phone tighter, pressing the cigarette into the marble,

“Is it an attack?” You heard yourself croak out, “You guys- you guys are okay?”

“We’re fine, but don’t go outside until I get there, okay darling?”

“Steve, I’m coming with-” You heard Natasha before Steve hung up, and you swung the door open to rush inside. A lot of people staring at the TV made way for you to pass and Sharon looked almost hesitant before she stepped aside so that you could look at the screen. Someone turned the volume up and you held your breath.

“….and while it is not clear when it happened or who is responsible, the body on the stairs of Avengers Tower is most certainly a threat.” The reporter said, “Following footage may be disturbing to some viewers, so viewer discretion is advised.”

Then the screen changed, and everything around you started to spin.

The dead body was left on the top of the stairs of Avengers Tower, the one you had climbed down a couple of hours ago. He was wearing a Captain America mask and a shirt, on which there was a shield print. Right in the middle of the shield, there was a paper pinned to his chest by a huge knife, stained with blood but when the camera zoomed in, you could see what was written on the paper.

I warned you, sunshine.

Your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you tried to stop the bile climbing up your throat.

Trent.

It was Trent’s doing.

“Okay everyone, get back to work,” You heard Fury’s voice while you still stared at the screen, hypnotized, “I need everyone to work on Avenger’s Tower cameras, along with nearby cameras. Anything to get us a clue about who did this, come on.”

You could barely feel yourself walking back to your desk and pull open a drawer, then you took out the bottle of whiskey and a glass. You filled it, and took a huge gulp, alcohol burning the back of your throat and making you close your eyes.

“Y/N?”

“I’m okay.” You croaked out as you filled yourself another glass and downed it, slamming the glass down while Maria cleared her throat.

“Him?”

“Mm hm.” You mumbled and pulled open the second drawer, then snuck your hand inside the secret compartment and took out the small flash drive. Fury made his way to you and you plugged it in to check if the password was still valid.

“What happened to sobriety?”

“Nah man I can’t do this sober.” You said while Maria’s phone beeped and she stole a look at you, making you frown.

“What is it now?” You asked, exhausted and Maria licked her lips.

“Stark says Steve has already left the building but um-“ she handed the phone to Fury, “They just got this in mail for him.”

Fury’s frown deepened as he looked at the screen, and you silently held out your hand.

“Y/N, I really don’t think-“

“Don’t make me hack you for just one picture, Maria. I respect you and your privacy, but desperate times make me go bad and I’ll do it if I have to.”

She exchanged glances with Fury before she handed you the phone and you looked at the screen.

It was a simple sentence on the white paper, but you’d know that handwriting anywhere.

You should’ve known better than going after my leftovers, Captain.

You stared at the screen for a couple of seconds before you poured the whiskey into the glass to take a big sip, feeling yourself falling down that endless spiral was way too familiar to you but-

Well, Trent was the complete opposite of Steve. He always managed to bring out the worst in you.

You pulled the flash drive back, put it into your pocket and grabbed your jacket, “You might want to call in an Avengers Meeting.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, Steve is on his way already, probably Nat too, I’d call in the others if I were you.” You got into your jacket, grabbed the whiskey bottle and started walking to the exit,

“I’ll be in the conference room,” You called out as you walked past Sharon and took a swig of whiskey, “It’s about time they learned who that bastard is.”

Read Chapter 12 here!

A.N: Now repeat after me: I’ll leave feedback because Dream loves feedback! ❤️ 😂

Special thanks go to: @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @thorohdamnson @girlwhoisfearless @fictionwillneverdie @lilywoood @marss-anonymous @icameforthefanfiction @pandalandalopalis @barnesrogersvstheworld @evolutionofkatep @lostkizzy @reallyconfusednow @miss-jen-winter @dollbitxhes @fandomcrazie @latibulemark @aikeji @dans-les-details @evanstar @thatprofessionalfangirl @minuialeth75 @leviathan-luncher @optimisticheartyouth @laffers18 @kiwngsoo @myrabbitholetoneverland @itsyaboyo @avengemebuckyy @freightcarcap @stargeek727 @kerishet @superwolfchild-fan @fangirlbookworm @samwinchxtr @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @marauderskeeper @whogaveuspermission @thewhinersoldier @iamthemaskhewears @sasunarushiita @whatiswrongwithpeople @mischievous-fairy @agent-smoak @allison-rosewood-maximoff @petrashappyplace @swtltlmrvlgrl @imalittlebean @hey-garrett-shut-up@ruffdog921 @hogwarts-and-houseplants @go-crybaby @danielhowellstolemycamera @zabeth716 @imaginecrushes @attorneyl@missmidnightxo @renesmeeharelds , @sippinpeachtea @skeletoresinthebasement and lovely anons! Without you, I wouldn’t be able to write this, you’re amazing! <3

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listofnamesinred13 · 7 years

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Okay I’m about to spill some tea

SO “oh look, taylor swift is dragging up past drama to sell her new album, look at her playing the victim again, you’re still over”

is what all the haters happen to be screaming (among over ridiculous things) tonight, following the release of Look What You Made Me Do, the lead single to Swift’s 6th album: Reputation. But let’s take a little trip down memory lane to see if Taylor really is playing the victim. Hold on ladies, it’s gonna be a long one.

2006-2008

Taylor broke out in 2006, and when Love Story stormed the charts in late 2008 she became a global superstar and thus named “America’s Sweetheart” a bittersweet and dangerous title for any young female star, because it’s so easy to fall from the top. She was immediately held to an impossibly high standard of perfection, in every aspect of her life, and she handled this with grace.

2009 - early 2012

We know what happened here, no real need to recap, but the result of this event was Kanye being thought of internationally as a horrific bully. Which he is and continues to be until this day. Taylor went on to be the youngest artist to win album of the year at the Grammys, the world so does love an underdog.

Taylor responded to West the way she knows best: song-writing. she released her phenomenal 3rd album Speak Now and it featured a heart-breaking track named Innocent.

It's okay, life is a tough crowd 32, and still growin' up now Who you are is not what you did. You're still an innocent.

Swift, aged only 20, twelve years junior to her bully, responded maturely, forgiving him. At the same time she wrote a grammy-award-winning anti-bullying anthem of the name “Mean,” said to be about a critic who wasn’t constructive in his criticism, just plain cruel.

Soon after a standing ovation at the 2012 grammys, Swift brought the speak now era to a close.

Late 2012 - 2014

Taylor’s award winning curls disappeared with the release of her Hunger Games singles, and shortly after, she released We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Now 22, Swift was growing up, and, if you’ll pardon the pun, the release of the Red album caused a swift departure for her “sweetheart” title. Suddenly the romantic theme to her music was causing people to role their eyes. 2013 was a year of jokes about lists of ex-boyfriends, “keep your sons, brothers, dads and boyfriends away from Miss Swift, she’s destroy them, try to bury them with a song.” This is where the words “Playing the victim” first appeared. She was no longer seen as an innocent princess, the grown woman began to wear less fairy-tale-esque clothing, in favour of her now infamous black shorts. she attended award shows, knowing full well she was going to have to take an insult on the chin, and no one would stand up for her. Everyone was laughing. Her unforgettable but brief romance with Harry Styles caused insane online backlash, his fans taking her reputation for writing about personal relationships as an excuse to tear apart their relationship. Just one of many examples of the opinions of people that don’t know her, have never met her, believe they have a right to bad mouth her because “she’s Taylor Swift”

2014 - 2017

The released of the record-breaking 1989 album saw Taylor win back her popularity for the first time since before Styles. She declared that she could not be thrown off her game by her haters in “shake it off” insisting she will be herself more. But the real take down came in the form of “blank space.” Her satirical chart-topper saw her take back the narrative for the first time. She stated that she decided to play by their [the media’s] rules, writing and performing from the point of view of the “jet-setting man-eating psycho” they insisted she was. And the media, fickle as ever, lapped up every word. Impressed this silly little girl had played them at their own game, they placed her back on the pedestal.

Thus began the age of the “squad”

Taylor’s Victoria Secret Performance allowed her to form friendships with the angels, and the media nicknamed her ever-growing group of friends a “squad.” People mistakingly believed Taylor had formed this squad as an clique, an army against her latest enemy, Ex-BFF Katy Perry. We all know the details of their feud and Taylor’s smooth take-down track Bad Blood. I guess I can forgive the confusion, but members of the so called squad have stated that it’s not a clique, it’s just a support group of mostly women. Taylor had bitten back at the media’s representation of her, calling them out for being sexist. I however, personally don’t see it as sexism. I see it as bullying. The simple fact is that no other celebrity on the planet get attacked so much for so little crimes as Taylor Swift. This “squad” theory began positively but soon took a dark turn, as numerous times Taylor Swift was referred to as a “Regina George” Who famously played the victim in the 2004 blockbuster hit “Mean Girls” despite secretly being the mean girl herself.

Following her new popularity, an old ghost made an appearance in her life. With encouragement from their mutual friend Jay-Z, Taylor Swift and Kanye West made up.

Taylor even presented an award to him, mocking the infamous statement: “Imma let you finish...” by ending it with “but Kanye West has had one of the best careers of all time” The legendary feud was over. Taylor was on top of the world.

Or so we thought. With the release of Kanye West’s “Famous” came a rather degrading lyric:

“I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex Why? I made that bitch famous (God damn) I made that bitch famous”

Once again, we know the details. Taylor’s not completely innocent, maybe she shouldn’t have claimed she knew nothing of it. But take away your opinions on Miss Swift. Imagine if someone who bullied you, humiliated you, suddenly wanted to end all strife and flaunt an alliance. You’d jump at the chance, I know I would, and have. Taylor has previously proved to be the forgiving type, and in that phone call you can hear how eager she is to please. I believe Taylor did not understand exactly how degrading the finally song would sound, brushing her off, taking credit for her success, coupled with a video depicting a life-like naked wax figure of her he commissioned thousands into making right beside him in large bed full of controversial figures, including sex offenders and abusers. Imagine that had happened to YOU. Not Taylor Swift Trademark, the untouchable millionaire business woman, but a real woman, with real feelings. You would be scared. You’d be filing restraining orders. She had trusted him and let him in. He humiliated her for a second time, and in her panic she responded badly.

And yet, for some reason, the world took his side. This degrading song and disgusting video was somehow righteous over obscuring a little truth. Taylor’s response to the video release was such:

The internet wasn’t having it though. The final sentence became her death sentence, and thus began a meme and a #/taylorswiftisoverparty. Fans of Swift did try to defend her, but they also knew that Miss Swift was definitely not over.

2017 (present day)

Finally I have reached the release of “Look What You Made Me Do” the lead single of Swift’s 6th and highly anticipated album “Reputation”

So now we have tracked the history of Taylor “Playing the victim” I would very much like to address why LWYMMD is certainly not her playing it. I would like to push Kanye, Kim, and Katy aside, their actions were not to be admired, but this post is ultimately about the media and the public’s opinion of Miss Swift.

SO LETS ANALYSE SHALL WE:

The role you made me play Of the fool, no, I don't like you I don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie You said the gun was mine

It was the media and the public that insisted that Taylor was two faced, a snake, they forced her to play a role in their narrative. This public side of the role was like a villain, and the real way they played her was as a fool. The Media tricking her into trusting them, and then pushing her off the pedestal they put her on.

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined

Swift is no longer playing nice. Did everyone really expect her to lie down and let Kanye win? She’s out for revenge, and so she should be.

I don't like your kingdom keys They once belonged to me You ask me for a place to sleep Locked me out and threw a feast (what?) The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

This is a general address to those who supported her through her success at the start of the 1989 era, and then abandoned her when she fell from grace. They labelled it as Taylor getting what was coming to her, but she knows that eventually the tables will turn again and their time on the chopping block will come.

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

Their betrayal has lead to her inability to trust, and as she says, they all believe she’s a snake, she’s two-faced, if they don’t get her first she’ll get them. Her insane success has made her “untrustworthy” The world is forcing her to be someone she’s not.

"I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now." "Why?" "Oh, 'cause she's dead!" (ohh!)

This tongue-in-cheek spoken part is almost a throwback to Blank Space, she joins the taylor swift is over party, okay, we’ll play it your way, just before I destroy you. It also sadly suggests that their cruelty and endless abuse killed the forgiving version of her.

Ooh, look what you made me do Look what you made me do

At first, I didn’t quite get this line. She hasn’t done anything yet? What have they made her do? But then it clicked. They made her be a part of the narrative she wanted to be excluded from. They asked for her to play the bad guy, they insisted on her Villainous persona. They insisted she was a snake. So they made her become the snake.

Taylor has never once purposely “Played the victim.” Swift does not want to be the victim. So, this time around, she’s not forgiving. She’s not crying. She’s not ignoring it. She’s fighting it. Taylor Swift is angry, self-aware enough to know at this point she has no other route to take, bar buying an island and never being heard from again. She’s claiming her own fury, her own narrative, her own reputation.

And she’s out for blood.

Hiss Hiss.

#reputation #repuatationera #Taylor #taylor swift #Taylorswift #look what you made me do #lwymmd

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winnwinn-moved · 7 years

Text

love line

ten - angstish turned fluff - 2435

“what do you mean you can read palms!?”

ten is a man of many talents. from singing, to dancing, to making anyone and everyone fall for him with just a simple smile, ten can boast of many natural talents. but palm reading- now that’s something you haven’t heard of before. not like you don’t believe that ten can-okay, let’s face it, there’s no way in the world you believe that ten can actually see your future by inspecting the intricate lines on your palm. you would think that ten would have mentioned his special gift up earlier, yet here he here sits beside you on the sole couch in the apartment he shares with his friend johnny, trying to convince you that he can read palms. thank god johnny isn’t here to witness the scene; you would probably die of embarrassment if he saw the way ten is hounding you about his “talent”.

“look, give me your palm and i can tell you about your life, your career, and even your future love.” ten wiggles his eyebrows at the last possibility.

“you have to be kidding me.” you roll your eyes, your cheeks dark red. “where’d you learn this anyway, huh? youtube?”

“no, it’s a gift, i swear! just give me your hand and let me show you…”

slowly, cautiously, and a bit sheepishly, you stick out your hand, holding it up high so ten is able to clearly examine your hand. with a dramatic cough, ten grabs your hand in his, carefully pulling it closer towards himself so he can see the tiny little lines. gently, he thumbs over the thumb lowest on your thumb, mumbling nonsense to himself before grinning. you watch him curiously: the way his eyes light up, the way a pleasant smile pulls at his lips, the way he repeats his conclusion over and over under his breath. you sit on the edge of the couch patiently, trying your hardest not to burst into a fit of giggles, which you are convinced stem from the way his thumb tickles your skin. but it could also be the confused pout now apparent on ten’s face is way too much for you to handle, and he looks far too cute for his own good, that you can’t help but laugh- you bite the inside of your cheek. now is not the time to confess your undying love to ten.

with an exasperated sigh, ten gives the life line one final look before making up his mind on what in the world it all means. you’re beginning to wonder if ten really knows anything about palm reading- or if he’s just trying to tease you. he seems convinced of himself though, and so you decide that for now at least, you’ll trust what he says.

“well.” he begins, and you start to remember why you didn’t believe him in the first place. “your life line is extremely long. so you’re going to love for a long time. congrats!”

your smile falters. “so that’s it?”

you can’t hide the annoyance in your voice, or the childish whine that escapes your lips soon after. when ten said “palm reading”, you pictured your future career, the type of person people perceived you to be, heck, maybe even the initials of your soulmate. you did not expect ten to stammer out something completely random out. still, it’s your own fault for thinking he was a professional, and for thinking you would actually get something out of the experience.

ten notices your obvious disappointment. he frowns, and picks your hand up again, thumbing at the topmost line of your palm now. immediately, your complaints come to a halt and you sit in rapt attention as ten explains to you that he is a master at analyzing people’s love lines. your heart rate picks up at that, easily flustered by the way he so casually says love. as if it were no big deal. as if it didn’t matter. as if you weren’t in love with ten.

a startled laugh pierces the silence and you glance up at ten only to find him in near hysterics. panic fills your heart, and even though, seconds ago you were doubting his ability, his giggles begin to worry you. does he foresee an old cat keeper in your future? a broken widower who spends their days keeping up a lighthouse? an abandoned spouse who’s hero never returns from the war? you scold yourself for getting so absorbed in something so frivolous, but ten keeps laughing, and so you keep panicking, until finally, he manages to stop himself.

although, he’s wheezing, gasping for air, and his face is red, and his eyes teary. you decide it isn’t the most attractive look, but you also decide that it makes you love him more, and suddenly you’re wondering if maybe, somehow, miraculously, your love line leads to him.

ten holds your hand up to your face so he can accurately describe your future love life. he scoots close to you, too close for comfort maybe, because now your shoulders bump against each others and your thighs touch just a little, and you can feel his breath on the back of your neck as he turns his head in the slightest. it tickles. it tickles a lot.

you sit stiff, embarrassed at how close you are, and embarrassed at how casual and calm ten remains when you might as well be standing in front of an olympic stadium, preparing to perform the national anthem. ten gives your hand a tiny pinch and you swat at him, which means soon he’s cackling again and the talk of your love life is now forgotten. you bite your lip and nudge him in the hope he’ll get on with his vision of your future, but ten just shoves you back playfully.

“oh come on, i wanna know now!” you can’t help but smile. “aren’t you supposed to be the expert?”

“so now you believe me?” ten laughs, eyebrows quirking in the slightest. “no wonder your love line is tiny.”

“what’s that supposed to mean!?”

ten pinches the spot below where your pointer and middle finger meet. you stare down, obviously confused. your love line doesn’t seem so short to you. it runs from that point all the way down to the end of your palm, below your pinky. what’s so wrong about that? you’re pretty sure you’ve seen people with lines that measure less than three inches.

“look how late it starts.” ten explains, suddenly rather serious. “it means you’re gonna find your true love late in life. i don’t know how late, but i know it’s late. i don’t think i’ve seen many like this.”

he holds up his own right hand, using his left to point out his own love line. his starts at the edge of his pointer finger, and continues all the way to his pinky, arching in a nice little smiley face. “see how long mine is? it means i’ve already met my soulmate.”

your heart sinks in your chest. as long as you’ve known, never once has he mentioned a soulmate. and you consider yourself close to ten, on a best friend level if you want to add a label. you would think that he would bring something this important up with you.

ten has met his soulmate. you’re going to need to wait seventy-two years to meet yours. you know better than to believe in the old superstition, especially when ten is your psychic, but the revelation stings your heart. with love lines like this, it’s obvious ten and you are never meant to be. he’s probably going to be raising tiny justin bieber fanatics by the time you get your first date with your one true love. he’ll be holding someone in his arms who isn’t you. he’ll be kissing someone to sleep every night who isn’t you. he’ll be walking down the aisle, beaming and smiling brighter than the sun to meet someone who isn’t you. you’ve invested over a year now into loving ten behind a pretense of “just friends”, and now, a simple groove of skin has sent you spiraling into self-pity and disappointment.

ten doesn’t understand why you’re so upset. he doesn’t get why you look on the verge of tears. he didn’t think you believed in this kind of thing!! he was just playing around, repeating the little legends the aunties had revealed to him back when he was young. he never meant to upset you by his analysis, and now he feels absolutely guilty.

“oh come on!” ten nudges you again. “jaehyun has a late start too. maybe you guys are soulmates! wouldn’t that be cute?”

“i mean, i guess…”

you want to scream ‘no, no we would not be cute soulmates, me and you would be the perfect couple you dense idiot’ but you only smile instead. how in the world could ten think that you liked jaehyun of all people? sure he’s a sweetheart and all, but he isn’t ten. nobody can occupy the space in your heart that you’ve saved for ten and ten alone. yet now, it’s obvious to you that ten doesn’t think of you in that way and he never has, and never will.

it’s getting late. or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself anyway. despite the sun peeking in through the window to your back, you persuade yourself that you must be getting back to your own home soon. god only knows why; you’ll come up with a believable excuse soon enough. homework? yah, homework, is always a valuable reason to leave. and so you casually decide to mention that oh so easily forgotten essay you have due.

ten stops you though, frowning. “oh come on, don’t you want to stay a while? look, i’ll hold a seance on behalf of your love life.”

with that he smirks and inhales sharply, channeling his inner psychic abilities. he takes your hands in his own, giving them a tight squeeze before closing his eyes. for what seems like an eternity, everything is freakishly silent. too silent. if it gets any quieter, ten would be able to hear your heart slamming against your chest. ten’s hands are always how you imagined them to be while holding them: warm, but not clammy, soft, but not delicate. they cover your own completely, giving you a sense of protection and peace. it feels so right, but then you remember that the story is so wrong, and you’re not going to get your happy ending. not when ten claims to have already discovered his soulmate, when you still have yet to meet yours.

screw superstitions.

ten gives your hands another squeeze, and you swear that your heart is going to burst. you’re glad that you both have your eyes closed; otherwise, ten would see how scarlet your face must be, and immediately conclude that you’re smitten with him. wouldn’t that be a way to end the day? you shake your head in attempt to focus on your spiritual journey, but you continue to be distracted by ten. who wouldn’t be though? he’s the most perfect human you’ve ever met in your life. you’ve never met someone so selfless, so compassionate, so pure. ten has never ever treated you with contempt or looked down at you for anything you’ve ever done, whether it be crying over a quiz that really didn’t matter, to ranting and raving about your trashy coworkers after each and every shift. ten has always been there for you, even sacrificing his precious sleep if needed. no matter what wild things afflict your life, you can always count on ten to be there with you every step of the way, never leaving your side, even when things start to fall apart. you could never find the words to thank him, to express your eternal gratitude, to admit how greatly he’s impacted your life. all you want is to make ten as happy as he’s made you…

“i’m seeing it now…” ten murmurs, opening one eye to take a peek at you. he smiles softly, taking a deep breath. “there’s a tall man… okay, scratch that, he’s more of a medium height… but it’s good! he’s a very handsome man…”

he licks his lips nervously, continuing on with his spiel. “the spirits are telling me has a great smile, probably the best in the world. he’s really handsome, with a great body, nice hair, a strong jawline, cute nose…”

ten dares to glance at you again, and upon seeing the tiny smile on your face, adds, “he’s really talented too. he can sing, he’s basically a model, and boy, don’t even get me started on his dancing. out of this world.”

your smile falters. “oh… so it really is jaehyun, isn’t it?”

“you get jaehyun from all of that information?!” ten wails. “jaehyun, dancer? jaehyun, an amazing smile? jaehyun, handsome?”

he laughs a bit. “come on, i was describing myself… i thought that was obvious.”

“but, but-” you stammer. “you said you already met your soulmate! our lines don’t match!”

“maybe because i knew i loved you for like, seven years now, and it’s taken you this long to figure it all out…” he whispers.

he leans in, thumbing circles on the back of your hands. you close your eyes and wait- like you have been for so long now. but ten has been waiting longer, for too long now, and when he kisses you, it’s not timid and shy like you would have expected. it’s needy and sloppy but nothing seems more right in the moment, and soon your fingers are no longer intertwined with ten’s, but rather tangled in his hair. ten nips at your bottom lip, playfully, teasingly, and you’re about to fall back on the couch, but-

“oh my god. oh god have mercy ten, man, if you wanted to get it on, you could’ve told me to stay out a little bit longer.”

you and ten quickly pull away and fix yourselves up best you can, unsure of how to handle johnny’s sudden intrusion. awkwardly, he waves and then slips back out the door, mumbling profanities under his breath. as soon as the door slams shut, you and ten burst into a fit of giggles, your embarrassment soon replaced with amusement.

“seriously though… i can’t believe you got jaehyun from all of that.” ten says slowly.

“and i can’t believe you waited this long to admit your feelings to me.” you breathe, leaning back in for another kiss.

#ten scenarios #ten #ten chittaphon #nct chittaphon #i hate tagging him like that but #oh well #crappy ending but im exhausted #lol yikes #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct ten #NCT #nct fluff #ten fluff #ten imagines

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wellmeaningshutin · 7 years

Text

Short Story #82: Famous.

Written: 3/30/2017

Maria had been conflicted, since, more than anything else in the world, she wanted to be famous, she wanted to be one of the big time celebrities that everyone talked about, she wanted to be a household name, somebody that everyone had an opinion of, good or bad, somebody that was discussed on television all of the time, she just wanted to be a somebody. However, although she consumed gossip magazines as if she were addicted to them, she knew that there were major downsides to fame that she most likely couldn’t handle, mainly the lack of privacy. Maria was a very, very private person and rarely left her house, causing a lot of her family members to either think that she was agoraphobic, or involved in some sort of illegal operation, but she never told them one way or the other, it wasn’t their business, it made her comfortable knowing that she had a life that only she knew about, so the potential of having people root around in her trash, having pictures of her taken whenever she actually goes out in public, having every little bit of useless information published about her in the gossip magazines that she loved, the potential of having her personal pictures (none of which were sexual, she had no sex drive and didn’t understand the appeal of nude photos) stolen and put all over the internet, for all to see, it was just too much for her. Like a lot of people without real lives, Maria would get lost in these fantasies of hers, and started to feel like they were already real. Since she wanted, so badly, to become famous, it was only, in her mind, a matter of time, so it was more important for her to solve the issue of privacy.

Anonymity wasn’t an option, because that would have required her to be very talented in some field, but the fame she sought out wasn’t related to talent, or skill, it was all about existing, and people loving the fact that you exist, needing to watch television shows of you simply existing. Plus, how could you become a household name if nobody knew your name? And, nobody really knew her name already, so its not like, in her mind, she would have achieved anything at all, she would just be in the same position that she currently was in.

Laying on her couch, staring a coffee table that was completely buried in magazines at a television that was never turned off, constantly running talk shows, game shows, entertainment news channels, reality television, etc, as she would stuff her face with small, circular shaped microwaveable pizzas, Maria tried, desperately, to think of a way to solve her problem, she didn’t know how much time she had left, living as a shut in, until she was suddenly famous, and became lost in a whirlwind of paparazzi, slanderous rumors, companies that wanted her to become a spokesperson, and adoring fans. The fear of becoming famous would give her anxiety, sometimes even panic attacks, and she would walk around in circles, sometimes peeking out the windows, all the while with her lights off, so that nobody would know that she was home, in case it finally happened. At one point she considered buying a gun, a rifle or a shotgun that would look big and threatening, to scare off any adoring trespassers, but that could also have the downside of giving her bad press, like, career ending bad, and then she could end up, again, exactly where she was now, shut inside a house for weeks on end, with only two or three people knowing that she even existed. At that point, she thought, she would have to use the gun on herself, because going from being a somebody to being nobody is, she assumed, a trillion times worse than continuously being a nobody.

For some reason, the thought of plugging herself, when her career was over, seemed like a good idea, but she couldn’t tell why.

One night, after she had used eye droppers to ensure that she wouldn’t cause any damage from the prolonged exposure to the light of her television, she was watching a game show, one of those singing competitions that were hard to figure out what made them different from the others, and the contestants, that week, were supposed to do their songs while dressed as some celebrity from the 1970’s and earlier, as a part of some sort of desperate attempt to cash in on the nostalgia of the teens and middle aged viewers who made up a large majority of the viewer base. One of the contestants had dressed up as Marilyn Monroe and did a cover of The Sound of Silence, which was completely ruined since she tried to display her vocal range and strength, making the song feel like she was trying to sing the national anthem, in the showiest way she could, with ill fitting music and lyrics, but the crowd went wild anyways. It was around 9PM, and at this point in the night Maria was usually sitting directly in front of the television, on her knees, just so that she could reach out and touch the screen whenever she liked what was happening, and it usually took until late into the night for this to happen because she would get tired of laying on the couch all day, and would require a change of scenery, even if it was something as small as moving closer to the television.

As her fingers traced the outline of the fake Marilyn, she thought how sad it was that such a great woman (Maria had never seen one of Marilyn’s films, and had hardly seen any films at all, since she was mostly obsessed only with the celebrity aspect of it all, and whenever she saw films all she could never immerse herself further than “Oh, Brad Pitt is doing a funny accent” or “Why do they keep calling Scarlett Johansen by the wrong name, and why isn’t she getting upset by that?”), such a natural star, had taken her life so early on, being unable to grow into old age where she could- and all the sudden Maria couldn’t continue on. What would have happened to the woman if she did continue to live? Would everyone remember her as an older woman, or would she have stopped being a fashionable age, and would have aged right into obscurity, making her a wrinkled nobody. Would she have ended up like Madonna, desperately clinging to fame, hoping to cash in on her former self as long as she could, causing Maria to cringe every time that she heard Like a Prayer (Maria hardly listened to music, but often watched music videos, just so that she could stay in the loop when some had turned out to be scandalous. Most of the time, they would just be muted anyways). And then, in some leap of logic, she had realized that Marilyn had been a genius, because she had ensured that she would die young, beautiful, at the hight of her career, going out with a bang and sealing her fate as a legend. All legends had to die young, and all legends were house hold names.

That night, after finding a piece of paper that wasn’t covered in practice autographs, Maria scribbled this down:

The best way to become famous is to die at the peak of your fame, and then everyone will always have to remember you for your highest point, you will never ever never have to go down, back into B-List, C-List, or all the way to the lower lists that like stop having letters, past Z, and have to start using numbers, like 3-List. If your a 3-list celebrity, you might as well be an orphan, like an orphan that works in a coal mine or something, to ugly to be famous, having to make sure that their faces are covered in coal dust to hide their shame, hoping to die of black lung or whatever animals lurk around in coal mines, like alligators or whatever. And if you think about it, Jesus was the first person to understand this. He got a bunch of followers, everybody loved him, Christianity became a thing, like he gave “cult following” a whole whole new meaning, and then he was like “Hey, I’m going to crawl up on this fucking cross and die so nobody will forget me” and now there are like armies of fuckers of wear crosses around their necks, bringing him from the household to the worldwide, and its really just a stroke of genius, what he did. And like, his name also is a swear word, even people who don’t want to worship him use his names in moments of angers, the crafty fucker has woven himself into our language, but how can I do this? How can I take this model of fame and use it to sky rocket myself into legend status. What is the most famous I should be before I kill myself?

It was an answer she had trouble finding.

One of her biggest problems was that she wasn’t sure how she could tell when she had truly hit her peak, since most celebrities wouldn’t find out that they had peaked until it was much too late. That also happened to nobodies, especially all of her old friends from high school who used to be incredibly popular (although, Maria was the undisputed queen of the school) and now, whenever she ran into one of them, which happened about once a year, she would see that their lives had become pathetic, they were nearing their bottoms, but they would keep talking about all of the great things they were about to do, making Maria want to pat them on the shoulder and say, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re prime is dead and buried. You were great in high school, but that was high school, and now you’re in your thirties, like that makes this all of this just unbearably pathetic. Get your shit together, and accept where you are.” So, not wanting to end up like one of those people, after she would undeniably become famous, she had to think of a way to calculate the perfect amount of fame to commit suicide.

After some searches of dead musicians online, she couldn’t figure out what was supposed to be more important: wasted potential or legendary send off of people who seemed to be around forever. One one hand, you have people like Kurt Cobain and Tupac, who supposedly (she couldn’t have named one of their songs, but could prattle on for hours about her theory that Kurt had faked his suicide, had some facial surgery done, and is now living his life pretending to be Rivers Cuomo, of the band Weezer, who she has actually heard a song of, which was “Beverly Hills”) made wonderful music, but died before they could make any more, and people always thought about what could have been. On the other hand, you have people like David Bowie and Kanye West (who isn’t dead, she just gets her news from some very sketchy sources) who were in the industries for a long, long time, who might have changed a lot of things, she wasn’t sure, but seemed to be even more loved as they died, giving them perfect endings. And, don’t forget Michael Jackson who went from being a disgusting pedophile, to suddenly adored, just from dying.

After spending a day accumulating that information, she was a very slow reader, it lead her to realize that she didn’t know what any of the information meant, she didn’t really have an idea of how fame worked, and only knew that she was destined for it. However, through a couple accidental clicks and a stroke of luck, she realized that there was a whole section of celebrities that she had never thought of before: assassins. These were her notes on the subject:

In a way its a genius ticket to fame, like, all you have to do is find somebody who is extremely famous and kill them, then you instantly get their level of fame. Like you have Richard Kennedy who was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald, and no every time that people think of the dead president, they think of the man who got a couple shots in on him. Not only that, but suddenly that dumb fucker who was only known as “Lee”, like gets his full name used all of the time, like people can’t just say “Lee Oswald” they have to say “Lee HARVEY Oswald”, like he has a whole special level of infamy. Same goes for Jesus, who only goes by his first and last name, which makes him a chump, even if people pray to his mother to stop their periods or whatever they do, like, because like the guy who killed him, Judas Wilkes Booth, has his full name used, and people always associate him with the big J. There’s something about infamy that people have a certain amount of love for, like World War Two was supposed to be such a big deal or whatever, but the only thing that I know happened was that Hitler killed some Jews or something like that, and he is supposed to be the villain of that whole war. Who talks about the good guys? When the big drug dealers go down who like talks about the people who caught them, like the FBI agents who had to go through car chases or whatever to get the drug lords

And if you think about it, infamy (just learned about this word) is even bigger than fame, because theirs more letters in infamy than they’re is in fame. Two extra letters to be exact. So, I’m young, I’m almost thirty but I can lie about my age, and all I have to do is kill somebody as big as Jesus, kill myself afterwards to maintain a perfect peak (so not only will I have maximum fame levels but I will also never have to worry about having my privacy invaded because I will be dead, which is like the perfect kind of privacy) and then I will become somebody that people wear masks of. I will become a swear word. I will be a popular Halloween costume, people will get tattoos of my face on their body, maybe they will even tattoo my face onto their face so that they will look like me, or rich girls might even get their noses done to look like my nose.

There was another problem in her plan, which was she had no idea who was, right now, as big as Jesus. Would any head of a religion do, or would she have to kill one of the heads of a special religion? What were any of the big religions, right now? These were questions she couldn’t answer, so she just decided to watch reality dance shows, then reality dance shows where children danced while their unkempt mother’s yelled at them, then singing shows, then reality shows where people just existed, and that was when Maria realized who she could kill. She would find one of those reality shows, walk onto the set while the cameras were rolling, then kill the whole cast, gun them down, on live television (she thought that reality television was live, and figured that the differences in the times in real life in the show were due to “Time Zones”, which she didn’t really understand either), in front of the whole world (she assumed that everyone had the same habits that she did, except they were way less special than she was) and become Jesus/Judas levels of famous. If the cast of Rich and Spoiled were her gods, then they were the people she would have to kill, and since there was a lot of them she would soak up all of their individual fame, allowing her to transcend the current fame boundaries.

Maria believed that you had to be able to brutally murder the ones you loved in order to put yourself in a better position, but she wasn’t antisocial, she just had been isolated for so long, mainly interacting with people in extremely disconnected ways, that she kind of forgot that other people were real in the same way that she was, which was one of the reasons she believed that she was destined to be famous.

Buying a gun was the hardest part of her plan, mainly because there was a ten day waiting period to get her handgun, so she had to sit around in her house, staring at her television, knowing that she would soon be famous. In preparation, she always stayed close to her television, trying to feel what it would be like to be where the celebrities were. Sometimes when the cast of Rich and Spoiled, who she nightly dreamed of mass murdering (usually with a gun, sometimes with an axe, and, in one dream, she killed them with lasers that came out of her hands, but that also disintegrated her hands after they were all dead, so she couldn’t zap herself and had to continue living, slowly fading into obscurity, which caused her to wake up in a deep sweat and leave the lights on for the rest of the night, to fearful to go back to sleep), were talking to each other, or were involved in some pointless form of drama, she would talk to her television as if she were there too. This lead to her starting to forget that it was initial practice, and she would occasionally believe that she was actually a part of the drama, which had often made her so angry that she would threaten to hang out with her good friends on E!, but this was mainly a bluff since when she did switch back to R&S, she would find everyone hanging out without her, having a good time, and it made her afraid that she had peaked.

On a few occasions she had tossed her drink at the television screen, when she was upset at one of her friends, and once she clawed at the screen, trying to pull one of the girl’s, who she had believed to have insulted her, hair out. None of this felt any different than what she had already been doing, they were still as real as she previously believed them to be, and it made her feel as if she were some sort of spy, becoming buddy buddy so that they wouldn’t expect it when she opened fire on them. By the eighth day, she realized that she might have started to become famous, since she was hanging around all of these celebrities, and figured that she probably was having new levels of fame to add onto all of the ones that she would absorb, when she sacrificed the cast. The idea made her mouth water, and for the first time in her life she felt an urge that could be described as sexual, in her eyes, but was actually caused by a rash that was forming on her groin.

On the tenth day, when she finally had the gun, she paced around in her living room, waiting for the show to come on, half worried that they had caught wind of her plan and were hiding away from her, planning on never airing and successfully hoarding their fame all for themselves. In a moment of paranoia and desperation, she considered flipping over to MTV and killing whatever pop star may have showed up on the channel, but she knew that now wasn’t the time to be impulsive, assassins only had one shot to make, and if they missed it would all be worthless, and if they picked somebody who was hardly famous, then they would fade into obscurity in a matter of years. Certain kinds of fame had expiration dates, and trying to kill those types of celebrities would only be a temporary solution, and knowing this allowed her to stay away from the music channel.

Finally, as she was walking in circles around her magazine pile that was hiding her coffee table, she heard the theme song of Rich and Spoiled, spun around and dropped to one knee, aimed her pistol at the screen, and waited until the opening sequence was almost done, waiting for the part where the whole cast was standing side by side, and when she finally saw it, no time was wasted and she sunk five rounds into her television, shattering the gas and causing it to smoke. Then, already feeling her newfound sense of fame start to fade, she put the gun into her mouth, pointed at its roof, and pulled the trigger.

Almost a year had passed until anyone had found her body. There was no mention of her death, not even in the obituary, since her mother felt like it had been to late to be appropriate. There was no funeral, what remained of her body was cremated, and its ashes were left with all of the other ashes of the people who nobody cared about.

#Free Write #Short Story #Writers on Tumblr #Famous #Celebrity

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