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.
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.
“I have a female friend who lives alone and she has BTS songs in her playlist, so I asked if she was their fan. “Oh, that’s for turning on when I go pick up the delivery,” she said. I asked her what she meant, and she told me they’re actually not songs but recorded conversations of the members called “skit”. You can see which skit it is in the photo below.
She said “Want to hear it?” and played the skit on on her computer’s speaker. It sounded like there were people inside when hearing from the doorway, and it became an even more plausible disguise with two pairs of dirty men’s sneakers on the shoe rack. I was heartbroken.
My friend started joining a hip hop club after she moved out to live on her own, and she learned a survival tip (?) when living alone from a senior member there, which was to turn on skits when picking up delivery. She said after looking through various skits, that group’s skits were the most natural-sounding.
My friend turned off the speaker and said, “I’m really thankful to them~ I think I’m gonna buy their album, to repay them~”. It’s just… It’s not like they did anything directly, but I’m kind of thankful to them too. They eased the anxiety of a girl living alone, even if it’s just for a while.
Sometimes when I listen to skits, I think “Why did they put these in?”. I just feel so bitter that someone is using them this way. Anyway, since this seems like a good method, I’m posting this to share with other people. The world is sad.“
Oh my God, we're so sorry we blocked your doorway. Now go get your ear muffs.
I’ve had a long respectable career in game development. A couple of years ago I’ve abandoned it for a cushy corporate job, and now spend most of my days missing gamedev.
This story takes place about 10 years ago at the apex of my career.
I was the lead on a AAA project. Our parent company, for which videogames was just one of many lines of business, was going through changes. We had to move offices three times in one year. Second of the three moves, always intended to be temporary, put us into the basement of an older building long occupied by satellite departments not involved with development.
The basement we were given had been empty for years, save for the most distant office. You entered the basement through a dimly lit staircase. Then, after you snaked through a horror-movie-like maze of corridors and interconnected small rooms, you’d eventually arrive at the farthest room of all.
Could you please write a Peterxreader where reader is the youngest
member of the team. One day they have a movie date in the tower and the
team spies on them?Could it be in the point of view of the team?[bonus
points if deadpool is in it] thanks <3
Wade has created a chatroom.
Wade has added Natasha, Tony, Thor, Bruce, Steve, Clint, Vision.
Clint: What, Wade?!
Tony: Can we text later? You’re going to distract me!
Bruce: I need to
ask, but is it not weird that us, adults, are spying on Y/N and Peter,
our youngest and most loved members movie date in a very cramped up
Natasha: If you
don’t like it, then you can leave, Banner. It’s not weird. We are just
being protective parental units/uncles/adopted android sibling.
Steve: Should they be sitting so close? Natasha, should they? Maybe I should go in and sit between them.
Tony: I will kick your ass, Rogers! Don’t you dare ruin their date!
Thor: Grab him, Stark! I shall lay Mjolnir upon him so he may not move.
Steve: Try it and I will run off with Mjolnir!
Thor: You? Worthy? HA! Do not fight us!
Steve: I know you
have your doubts. I know deep down you know that I was faking not being
able to lift Mjolnir. Would you like to test me?
OKAY BUT LISTEN because bebe has spoken multiple times about being mistreated in the music industry, being criticized for how she looked or how her voice sounded, being written off because she was a younger girl trying to join the dudes’ club of pop songwriters, and she’s just been treated really badly by really important and influential people in the business, and basically through dumb luck she ended up working with louis, who is just genuine and unpretentious, who makes eye contact with her the entire time they’re speaking, who is respectful and kind and talks about how talented she is every chance he gets, who also jokes around with her and gives her shit and treats her like a sister instead of a sex object, and as far as i’m concerned their friendship is ART and i hope they stay friends forever and ever and ever so jot that down.
Eeeh… so this is kinda long. But I loved writing it. Also: it’s from Shiro’s POV. So… have this:
Monsters don’t have
It took everything in him
not to scream. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Wouldn’t let
them know how afraid he really was.
He had survived this
once… He would do it again. Because now he knew how the cruel
machinery of the arena worked, relentless and precise like clockwork.
He knew what the Druids would do to him. He knew the rules.
to the rules and survive.
And rule number one was to never show your fear.
Shiro could do this, he
would survive and find his way back home. Home… wherever
that was. A small, fragile smile crept onto his face. Of course he
knew where home was. It was somewhere among the stars… Sitting in a
giant robot lion and hunting every single Galra cruiser down in order
to find him. He would survive this… for now there was Keith,
burning with the force of a thousand suns, fiery red and blazing with
anger. He had seen glimpses of what the Red Paladin was capable of…
This man would tear the universe apart and burn the whole Empire to
ashes, if that’s what it took to get Shiro back.
For now he would stick to
the rules and buy his friends as much time as possible to come and
find him. Him and-
Movement from the shadows
caught his attention, followed by a soft sob. If it hadn’t been so
eerily quiet in their cell, he might’ve missed it. Shiro froze at the
sound, eyes trained on the the figure that laid curled up on one of the cots.
The first time he’d seen
him, Shiro had actually lost it. He still had no idea where he
came from – it didn’t really matter anyway. Because he was there
nonetheless. He existed. He breathed. There was a soul in his yellow
eyes, when he gave Shiro that look. That look of utter betrayal, like
he’d hoped for something more, something that was definitely not a
beaten and bruised Shiro.
He couldn’t really
remember when or how the guards had maneuvered him into the same cell
he occupied. At some point he’d simply checked out, mind going
blank and numb, because it was all too much.
The Druids had taken his
arm, stripped him off any right he thought he had, put him through
fights against aliens twice his size… but THIS. This had been the
It was the day he met his
clone, that Shiro actually cried for the first time in ages. He cried
for himself. It was the same day he realized, that this would never
end. They’d always find a way to break him, to bend and twist him,
until his mind turned into something ugly. The evidence, the actual
personification of their madness driven efforts, sat right in front
of him and stared at him with piercing yellow eyes.
He had no idea how long
they’d stayed like this. Huddled against opposite walls of the same
cell and staring off into nothingness, until one of them had started
talking. It had been awkward, looking at his own face and listening
to his own voice, somewhat sounding off. More guttural. Some words
even sounded a little…purred? It was almost off-putting to see his
own face staring back at him and moving with expressions that weren’t
his. It felt like watching yourself in a mirror, but your
reflection suddenly stops moving along with you. Familiar features
turned into something otherworldly, because someone else controlled
them and poured their very soul into every twitch and pull of muscle.
They’d created a whole new
being. The clone might’ve looked like Shiro, but under their shared
features, there was a different person. Individual. Original. And so,
so human. He even had a name.
fitting, Shiro had thought at
first. But he’d come to realize quite fast, that Kuro wasn’t the dark, evil
minded counterpart he’d expected to hide behind that name.
fact, the more they talked, the more Shiro got the impression, that
their Galra-hybrid was more human than most people Shiro had met back
had suffered. He had seen horrible things, survived even worse. He’d
been ripped open and put back together, just to be torn apart again.
Some days he would find the strengh to laugh at all of this… And some days he would break under the pressure and fear. Like
any human being would do.
Days had passed. It was easy - too easy - to believe that Kuro was
anything but a monster. Especially so, after he’d been carried back
into their cell, right after one particular hard fight. Kuro had won, of
course… But was the damage his body and mind had taken really worth
Seeing him like this morphed repulsion and mistrust first into pity,
then into something else. Something Shiro didn’t really want to think
about. It felt way too close to compassion.
He couldn’t let that happen.
to the rules and survive.
And sticking to the rules meant no sympathy for Galra-clones.
In the end the universe wouldn’t have any of it.
Another sob brought him back to reality. It tore through the silence
that hung between them. As far as he could tell, Kuro was still
asleep on his small cot, but he thrashed wildly against invisible
enemies and restraints. Maybe he relived his latest fight? His latest
torture? Tears glistened in the dim purple lights.
In this moment he looked almost completely human… Vulnerable and
scared and just so much younger.
Shiros throat went dry. Kuro wasn’t a monster… never had been…
And that tore at his heart.
Despite what the Druids wanted him to be, Kuro was anything but a
Without thinking, Shiro stood up from where he sat, back against the
wall, and silently made his way towards the clone. Said clone was a
mess; twitching and and clawing at the nightmares that plagued him.
Another whimper. Small and heartbreaking. He couldn’t take it.
Shiro couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, trying to soothe Kuro
with a warm hand on his shoulder. But it wasn’t enough to make the
Soon he found himself huddled up on the small cot next to the other
man, arms wrapped around shaking shoulders and metal
fingers stroking carefully over a tense back. There were scars on his
back. So. So many… Shiro didn’t even want to know what had caused
these scars. Or the nightmares.
This man was definitely no monster.
I know I promised there will be a happy ending to my Kuro week… But for now… suffer with me? @kuroweek
Summary: Bucky’s a cop and got called to a crime scene to arrest a criminal but he realizes the criminal is the person he’s dating
Warnings: Police!Au, Language, Drunk Shenanigans, Major Floof
A/N: Written for Manu’s writing challenge, couldn’t help but write cop!Bucky again. @jurassicbarnes thank you for the fun opportunity.
It had been a quiet night for Officer James Buchanan Barnes
and his partner. So far, they had to deal with a fight between two drunk men,
an exhibitionist and a few reckless drivers.
Bucky had started his shift at 10 p.m. the previous night
and it was now just after 4 a.m. He kept repeating ‘only two more hours’ like a mantra and tried to imagine you all
wrapped up and sound asleep in your bed. He really wanted to be with you.
(A chance meeting with a stranger at a bar helps
you recover from a bad breakup.)
Warnings: 11000+ words of mostly sex stuff. Bad ex boyfriends. People doing inadvisable
things. Listen up kids: in real life you
should be more cautious about who you let take naked pictures of you! Lots and
lots of sex. If you’ve read my stuff
before, you know the drill.
You thought it would be fun to work in sales
after you graduated from university; you would travel around the country,
meeting new people, holding meetings in fancy high rise office buildings in big
cities, wining and dining clients at gourmet restaurants while you closed deals
and made boatloads of money. The reality was that you were selling
industrial wastewater management systems, making a moderate income, while
traveling four days a week to factories and chemical refineries in some of the
least glamorous locations on earth. You didn’t mind the work itself, but
the evenings alone in small town hotel rooms were dull and disheartening, so
you would frequently head out to a local movie theater or neighborhood bar to
distract yourself from the loneliness on the road.
It was pouring down rain outside and you decide
to run to the closest place you could find to grab a drink, rather than risk
driving around and getting lost. That’s how you found yourself sitting
alone at the bar of the Applebee’s restaurant that was adjacent to your hotel,
sipping on something called a Blue Hawaiian, in a town you couldn’t even
remember the name of.
Unruly children sat with their families having
dinner in the nearby booths, while innocuously bland pop songs played overhead.
You took one sip of the cloyingly sweet blue cocktail in front of you and
immediately regretted your decision to come here tonight. Given the lousy week
you had experienced, you would have been better off drinking cheap whiskey at a
dive bar filled with unapologetic alcoholics. Here, the family friendly
atmosphere mixed with the empty promises of a fruity cocktail that was designed
to trick you into thinking you were on a tropical island vacation instead of in
your real life. Your real crappy life.
You had totally blown the sale today. The
clients had a million questions about the technical specifications of the
products you were trying to sell, but you kept tripping over your words and
making yourself sound like an idiot. You blamed your poor work
performance on lack of sleep. And you blamed the lack of sleep on your
boyfriend, David. Actually, he was your ex-boyfriend now. After
more than a year together, you dumped him for cheating on you.
He claimed he was faithful, but you were certain
he was lying. He never picked up his phone when you called him from out
on the road. He would eventually call you back, but his stories about
where he was and what he was doing always sounded a little off. The final
blow came when your friend Stephanie told you she saw him going into a movie
theater with another girl. David claimed Stephanie was mistaken and that
you were just paranoid and jealous for no reason. You wanted to believe
him, but deep down you were sure that Stephanie was right. All the
unresolved questions you had about what David was doing while you were working
could easily be answered if he had been cheating on you. David cried when
you told him it was over, he begged you to reconsider, but you were resolute
and just walked away.
That had been a week ago, and every day since
then, you questioned whether or not you made the right decision. You had
no hard proof that he had been unfaithful. Sure, Stephanie said she saw
him, but she only saw from a distance. Maybe she was mistaken.
Maybe it was just someone who looked like David.
“Bobby, you can’t keep doing that to him.” Bob raises his eyebrows, putting down his fork. “Doing what, Alicia? Corralling our son into talking about his crush?” “Exactly.”
Or, A fic about Bob and Alicia noticing Jack’s feelings for Bitty before even he does.
Bob Zimmermann is kind of messy, only a bit of a smart ass, and just a tad hard of hearing. Yet even without perfect hearing Bob can’t miss the affection in his son’s voice when talking about a certain line-mate.
Bob Zimmermann is many things, but he is no idiot.
“Did you get that paper done for your…what was it again- american pie class?”
Bob looks over his shoulder just in time to see Alicia send an appraising look from the couch. He catches a hint of a smile.
He winks back and she rolls her eyes in return.
Bob turns again to the large window, the white light blinding him for a moment. The large expanse of grass is still littered with snow, lining the way down to their lake. A blank sky hugs the horizon.
“Women, food, and American culture, Papa.”
“Right. So how’d you do on the paper? Did Eric help you out?”
You have not met Colonel before the party so he introduces himself
You are a district attorney
Damien trusts you and knows you well. Yet you haven’t seen one another in a while, indicated by his “well catch up”.
Drinking likely started around 7 in the evening.
The Colonel had a loaded gun in the house.
Tylers cotton gloves leave no fingerprints on the glass
You are very good at poker
You went into the kitchen
Colonel’s hand held The Ace of clubs, The Ace of Hearts, the 3 of hearts, the 3 of diamonds, and the 10 of spades. All the cards shown were colored in black
Colonel had the detective in a choke hold.
Colonel threw a flask at Tyler.
Colonel then was shown loading a very familiar gun.
You got uppercutted by the detective, then checked up on Damien.
Mark did not take the red robe off.
At least You went to bed around 1:30.
The alarm was already set to wake you at 8:30
Tyler was waiting for you when you woke.
Seltzer with cocaine for hangover remedy
Damien was up before you as well.
“Aah, there’s our little monster. You really knocked them dead last night, I haven’t seen you go wild like that since our days in university. Good to let the beast out every once and awhile, ey old friend. Then again, i’m not exactly sure what we’re supposed to be celebrating here, i mean it’s good to have the gang back together, but out of the blue like this seems…” Damien seems unsettled.
He still has work to do, in the manor.
As soon as you enter what may be a parlor, Marks body falls from the ceiling. Nearly crushing you.
The detective arrives after the fall, Then tyler, then the chef. Damien is not there.
Damien shows much later, after the body’s been found and covered.
The lighting picks up, starting at the fall of mark’s body.
There was no blood on mark’s body, at least that we could see.
Tyler thinks they should call the authorities, the detectives thinks otherwise.
Damien leaves to speak with the colonel, who was also not in the room when the body was found.
The detective was left alone with the body. Stating that mark was killed around 1:30am
You overhear the argument between Colonel and Damien.
“Don’t give me that horse shit! I know you hated him, but goddammit he reached out to you-” “Oh what do you want from me?!” “I want you to care!” “Just because i’m not weeping like a child does not mean that i don’t care.” “I can’t believe you…You come find me when you pull your head out of your ass.” Damien storms off, sounding hurt and near tears. He spoke harshly to you before storming out.
The colonel mistakes you for Damien, then greets you warmly then disregards the detective.
The colonel then bad mouths Mark, who did not drink the entire night. Colonel on the other hand was shown with a loaded gun and drinking from a flask.
We already know the colonel hates Mark.
He states that Mark left during the poker game, because he can’t hold his booze. Yet we never saw him drink.
He claims that mark died after falling down the stairs.
It appears that tyler may have been waiting for you outside the in home cinema.
He leads you to the wine cellar.
There are 14 wine bottles on the middle two shelves of the second rack. On the first rack there lies a flask.
There is a broken wine bottle on the floor, tyler is panicking while cleaning it up.
You leave him to that, you walk up to the kitchen and find the chef working on chopping up some food.
The chef speaks in harsh tones and words but they sound as if they are not directed at you.
He introduces you to his ‘little buddy’ Aka the viewing point for a set of security cameras.
Authors Note: To the Anon that requested it end in fluff, I hope you’re okay with the ending! It’s not all that fluffy, but it’s all I could come up with, especially with putting two similar requests together! But I still hope you enjoy! Also, I’m very aware that the ending of this is kind of rushed and I apologize!
“Thank you SO much Gil! I really appreciate you taking over my shift!” You exclaimed, your hand reaching out and taking your friends hand as you made your way off the lower part of the dock.
“No problem, Y/N!” He smiled, his voice so full of enthusiasm that it sounded as though he was going to burst. “You’ve been put on watch every night this past week. I think you could use a break.”
You laughed, your shoulders bouncing in a ‘what can you do’ type shrug before slouching in acknowledgement. “Well, I guess that’s what happens when you start a fight with Uma.”
Gil let out a giant laugh, his eyes lighting up in childlike innocence before nudging you in the side.
“Yeah, I guess.” He agreed, quickly taking his sword out of his belt and laying it on his chair. “But you better be careful. She might try to throw you overboard next time, and I don’t think Harry would be able to stop her.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, the image of Harry even trying to stand up to Uma roaming your mind and making you laugh.
“Harry would let Uma throw me overboard without a second thought.” You joked, not once meaning your words, but knowing that Gil would find them hilarious.
Gil let out a small giggle, his shoulder nudging yours once again as he led you back into Ursulas Fish and Chips and toward your dorm.
“Anyway, thanks again, Gil! I really do appreciate this!” You proclaimed, your arms wrapping around Gils’ waist in a friendly hug. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.” You playfully winked, the joking nature of your friendship with Gil as innocent as it was flirty.
“With what? Candy? Popcorn? Candy AND popcorn?”
“All of it you can eat.” You replied, a small laugh escaping your lips before gently pulling away from him and making your way into your room.
You let out an exhausted sigh, the air heavy against your skin as it warmed you from the cold wetness of the dock. Breathing in deeply, you removed your belt and walked towards your drawer, your hands reaching down and removing you shirt as you prepared to change out of your ‘watch’ clothes.
Then, suddenly and without any type of warning, a loud bang rang through your room, the sound catching you off guard and making you stop in your tracks. Lifting your shirt so that it covered your barley covered chest, you reached down and grabbed your sword, immedietly pointing towards the entrance and at whoever dared to barge into your room without a reason. That’s when you saw your best friend Harry standing at your door, his eyes staring straight into yours as he completely disregarded the fact that he had walked in on you in a personal state.
“What the hell, Harry!? I could have killed you!” You shreiked, immedietly throwing down your sword and putting on your shirt.
“C’mon, love. You and I both know that that would never happen.” He slurred, his accent thick and rich in your ears as he made his way inside and shut the door behind him.
You rolled your eyes, quickly making your way over to your bed in order to take off your shoes.
“Yeah, whatever. What are you doing here?”
Harry breathed in deeply before making his way closer to you, his eyes showing an intense amount of anger that you weren’t used to seeing from him.
“What’s your problem?” You questioned, a light giggle leaving your lips as you assumed he came to rant about something Uma made him do.
Harry cocked his head to the side, his lips curling into a playful smile as he stood mere inches from you.
“Are you and Gil dating now?” He questioned, anger and sarcasm heavy on his voice as his darlky outlined eyes bored straight into yours.
“No.” You laughed, immedietly pushing him out of your way and heading to your closet to put away your shoes.
You had never even considered the idea of you and Gil dating, and you didn’t understand why anyone else would either. Gil was one of your best friends, and you did seem to playfully flirt with him a lot, but still. Everyone on the Isle knew that you’ve had a thing for Harry for years now. You were in love with him and it was completely obvious.
To everyone but Harry, that is.
“Really?” Harry suddenly continued to question, the glare from his hook bouncing off the wall and shining into your eyes as he made his way over to you. “Then what’s with all the hugging, huh? And the flirty comments?” He asked, leaning against the wall beside you. “I saw you just now, and people don’t talk like that with people that are just friends.”
“Then you obviously don’t have very many friends, do ya stud?” You joked, a small shrug leaving your shoulders as you heard him give you an angry sigh. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Harry. Gil and I aren’t dating.” You continued, not understanding why he would care so much about it in the first place. “Besides, why is it any of your business who I date?”
Harry looked at you in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed in a strange mixture of shock and anger before he leaned away from the wall and hovered over you.
“Damn, Y/N. Are you really that blind?” He seethed, his voice so full of venom that you felt as though you’d been bitten.
“Hey, back off.” You demanded, completely confused as to what had made Harry so mad at you all of a sudden. You and Harry had had plenty of fights during your friendship, but he had never been angry at you. Not like this.
But the fact that he was angry at you wasn’t even the problem. It was what he was angry about. He had no reason to question you about your completely non-romantic relationship with Gil, and if anyone had a right to be mad, it was you for his complete inability to see that the only person you wanted to date was standing right in front of you.
“What the hell’s your problem, Harry? Why are you questioning me all of a sudden?” You asked, quickly walking over to him and poking him in the chest. “Besides, you may be my best friend, but you don’t have the right to get angry with me about something as personal as dating. That’s none of your business.”
“Best friend? Just…seriously, Y/N? Don’t you see that that’s the problem!” He scoffed, his eyes becoming glassy as his anger turned into disbelief.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, confusion filling your face as you questioned why your friendship was suddenly a problem for him.
“Because…” He started loudly, his voice fading to a whisper as he realized what he was about to say. “Because I just…” He continued, not being able to find the right words as his eyes traveled across your confused stricken face. “Oh, screw it.” He breathed, his hands suddenly reaching out and bringing his face towards yours.
Letting out a surprised squeal, you couldn’t help the shock that crossed your face as Harry’s lips connected with yours. You were frozen for a moment, your eyes wide open and looking into space before you finally gave in and kissed him back.
The kiss was slow at first, the deep flavor of sweat and saltwater heavy on your tongue as you pulled him closer to you. Harry pressed against you softly, his hands quickly leaving your face and wrapping around your waist as he lightly dug his hook into your lower back.
Giving you a relieved sigh, Harry removed his hook from behind your back and pressed you against the wall, his hot tongue immedietely making its way towards your lips as your nails ran diligently down his sides.
Letting out a gasp, you pulled away, the need for air becoming too strong as your mind tried to register what exactly was going on.
“I…I um…” You started, your speech completely gone as you tried to figure out what to say. “I..I -”
“That,” Harry interrupted, his face mere inches from yours as he continued to press against you. “That’s why I wanted to know.”