#but you dont understand what you are reading

[poppy-metal]

fail marriage au…………………….

having your first big blow out fight after marriage counselling. putting everything you ever found aggravating or disrespectful or wrong or even just a bit annoying on the table. art doing exactly the same. it gets mean. it gets personal. it gets ugly. you scream at him, scream like a banshee and he shouts back. veins you didn’t know he had bulge in his neck, his fingers flex as he wildly gesticulates. you throw something, a plastic tv remote that shatters against the wall. it all passes in a heated blur, you hardly know what you’re doing or saying but that blood is pumping through your veins and you’re alive and so is art. alive. furious, at you. you stalk up to him, and he stands tall above you, looming like a storm cloud. a sweet faced angelic storm cloud that right at this second you couldn’t fucking stand. you jab at his chest with your finger as you yell, lay into him. why couldn’t he tell you how he feels? why did he have to be so fucking passive aggressive? why was tashi the centre of his fucking universe? why couldn’t he be a fucking man and tell you what he really wants? be a man art. be a fucking man for once in your goddamn life.

his nostrils flare, his anger rising with every poke. he grabs your wrist, yanks it up and leans in close. stooping, showing you that he is bigger. he would stoop to your level. he will fight back. you feel his breath on your nose and seethe. he’s still minty fresh. stupid cunt.

“what i want is for you to shut the fuck up and stop acting like you know everything.”

“fuck off, you limp dicked sack of shit.”

“fuck you cunt.” he flicks those brutal syllables at you, chewing his words, opening his mouth so you can see his tongue forming them. you feel the severity in the pit of your stomach. you feel something else lower.

“fuck me? fuck you!”

and in that moment you drew together, moving as one, in the most violent kiss of the modern age. he squeezes your wrist, still held aloft. your other hand grips his shirt collar, pulling so hard it hurts his neck. good. you hope his delicate little neck gets a friction burn and a rash and you hope it stings forever. he tongues furiously at your mouth, mashing his lips into yours and licking the side of your mouth. eating your face like he eats pussy. which he hasn’t done in a while, another thing to yell at him about later. his other hand grips the back of your head, holding it still so you have no choice but to recieve his hot, angry love. you kiss back with equal fury. you want to make him suffer your love. don’t want it? tough luck. it’s his. and he will take it. he grunts into your mouth, it vibrates your tongue. you pull back, but he doesn’t let you. he forces you back nearer to him, spine curving in hateful ecstasy. he kisses you for a few more seconds before drawing back only a few centimetres to rest his forehead on yours and breathe. your lips are wet with him.

“i love you,” you breath.

he caresses the back of your head.

“prove it.”

me when i overachieve.

anyway this is apart of my failmarriage au and you should probably read this part first to understand whats going on here. or just follow the #failmarriage au tag that i have.

your breath shudders out of you. you'd never heard that tone from him before, or rather, never directed at you. not exactly cold but, chilled. serious and pointed. dominant.

your hands fall from his hair, sliding down his throat, his shoulders. you stare into his eyes - he stares back. you feel like you're on a razor thin wire. concede or push back.

you wonder what this will fix. but you don't think you care. you want him. you miss him. your heart is pounding just thinking about it. you take a step back, two, three, several paces.

"okay," you say. you dont even know what you're agreeing too, just that you want it, whatever it is.

before you even have time to linger on that thought though -

because art is already stalking towards you, undoing his soft leather belt and letting it drop to the floor. you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. just watching in this kind of stupified silence as art unczips his pants and slides his delicate fingers under his waistband. In three strides, art was right up in your space, owning it,  staring you down with a cool kind of control in his eyes, heavy cock in his hand, already hard and flushed and mouthwateringly beautiful. you couldn’t speak. you couldn’t think. all you could see was art. 

when art spoke, his voice was an iron grip closing around your throat. each word as clear and distinct as a brand to your hot skin.

“get on your knees”

you sink to the floor. It felt like falling, your knees knocked out from under you by the invisible string of his command that binds you to him. breath punches out of your lungs as you let yourself go under. art was already reaching out and grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock past your waiting lips, pushing all the way to the hilt as his leaking head slammed into the back of your throat.

“god,” art breathed out, vice grip holding you in place. “You’re beautiful like this” and you were lost. years of built resentment and anxiety dissipating like smoke as art took over your senses. the taste of him, the smell of him, the warmth of him, the silk soft press of his cock down your throat. It was everything you’d been longing for from him. 

your hands fly up to grip art’s waist, fingers trying to find purchase, pressing him deeper, holding him deeper, worried he might pull out but not able to hold yourself back. when art didn’t say anything, didn't tell you to stop, you sank forward and started to suck greedily, tongue running over art’s throbbing length, trying desperately to take him apart, to please him, to worship him, to give him what he wanted. 

you heard yourself whine, felt your body sway forward, but you managed to hold yourself still, keep your tongue flat, keep your mouth wide and waiting, holding art still against the back of your throat, wanting desperately to prove you were good. that you loved him. That you wanted, wanted, wanted him.

"give me your hand,” art breathes, looking down at you, and you think briefly of the ancient greek god apollo, and how if art was a deity, you.d gladly stay right where you are. lovingly holding him in the back of your throat. 

your mind was already starting to go fuzzy with the heavy weight of art on the back of your tongue, salt slowly leaking from his pink slit, the slow stretch of his your lips around art’s shaft starting to ache in your jaw. , but, still you had enough awareness to look up confused, meeting art’s eyes in a question. but art didn’t offer an explanation. just looked down at you, hand held out, patiently waiting, like it wasn’t a question of whether you would obey; it was just a matter of when.

shakily, your hand reaches out to his. by instinct or by pure coincidence, its the hand with your wedding band on it. your fingers brush against each other, and then arts fingers, lithe and strong, an athlete's fingers, slide between yours. he brings your clasped hands together against his chest. if your throat wasn’t stuffed with cock you’d gasp at the gesture, the intimacy of it alone. your palm against his bare chest, his right pectoral. right over his thunderous heartbeat. his wedding band presses against yours. 

“Im gonna move, okay?” he breathes down at you, and his hand squeezes yours. “If you want me to stop just squeeze my hand two times.”

you nodded, a slight movement, eager and unbidden. art ran a finger under your jaw, fluttering his fingers against you. you had to shuffle a little to keep as much of art in your mouth as you could as he exhaled and used his free hand to slide against the back of your skull, cupping it tenderly.

a little punched-out gasp falls from arts lips as he slowly rocked his hips, pushingas deep as he could go as you moaned around him. art took a second, waited for you to look at him, blink the tears from your eyes, before he started the slow glide out of your mouth. you laid your tongue flat against the underside of him, tracing the veins, unable to move forward to chase him back down your throat as arts hand kept you firmly in place.

when he was all the way out, spit slick and gleaming, he rested the flushed head of himself against your bottom lip. rubbed himself there, traced every contour of your mouth with the slit of his cock. glossing your lips with the sheen of his precum. 

“I love you.” he said - voice choked and you couldnt tell if it was from emotion or lust, maybe a combination of the two. 

you felt something flare hot in your belly, but before you could utter a word, art was sliding back home, right back into the silk pallet of your throat. and you welcomed him greedily, lapping up every inch he gave you. 

the whole while you held his hand, still pressed against his chest. you tilted open your jaw as wide as it could go, imagining you wanted to be a snake and swallow him whole. you took everything. you breathed through your nose when he was settled fully inside you - you sucked around him when he began to pull back, suctioning your mouth around him to mimic a pussy. a tight hole.

arent i such a good wife, you thought. no one could take his cock like you could. no one would drop to their knees and let themselves be used this way, but you would. to you, this was love. this was passion. 

art lasted a few more minutes before he was dragging himself free from the warm hug of your throat -

“I want you spread out on the kitchen counter," art panted, jerking his chin. he reached down to wrap a loose hand around his wet cock, stroking it languidly. your throat ached with missing it. “I need to be inside you. I want to -” he swallows. “I want to fuck you."

you inhaled sharply. it was a word you didn't often hear from arts lips. especially in reference to sex. the crude word coming from him made your belly clench warmly. more, you wanted more of that.

you stared at each other for what felt like forever but was probably only a couple seconds, art’s cock still only inches from your face. you watched transfixed as art’s leaking head slipped between the tight circle of his fingers, flushed tip disappearing and pushing back through. It was filthy, it was gorgeous, and your whole body shuddered imagining what it would feel like at your entrance: the slow press, the slick head, the aching burn as it slowly pushed inside. because it would burn. the last time you’d had sex….. you didnt want to think about it.

Instead you hurriedly scrambled to obey. shoving the straps of your dress down as you went, feeling it pool around your waist as you bent against the cool marble of the counter. you’d never fucked here. suddenly that was a crazy thought to you. wasnt it a kind of ritual for a couple - to christen the house? your fingers curled into your palms as you pressed your bare chest down. 

you felt art come up behind you and your breath hitched when you felt his palms skimming up the backs of your thighs. you hadnt realized you’d been trembling until that moment. something about his touch calmed you though. 

ridiculous,  to be shy when this was your husband. he’d seen your cunt a hundred times.

all thoughts fled your head when those familiar fingers parted the lips of your cunt - finding you wet. “baby” art’s strangled voice reached your ears as he felt through your delicate slit - he sounded beside himself with wonder. that you,d be this wet for him. this ready. he slid two fingers in easily - just a slight pressure at your entrance and there was a give of the flesh. and he was in - inside you. pumping steadily. “that’s it,” a kiss at the base of your spine, soft and special. “let me in. give me whats mine.”

yours, you dont know if you breathed it or just echoed it in your head. hips pushing back into him, opening yourself further. the stretch was full but it felt so right. 

“god - you’re so responsive - how could i forget -” he was working himself up. his thumb nudged your clit, circled it with the pad before pressing down on it, his own goran covering up your keen. like it affected him more than it did you, to feel how you throbbed against him with need. “gonna put my tongue on your clit everyday and you’re going to let me. let me worship what i married, spread your legs and fucking take it-”

“oh god,” you’re whining. practically humping your cunt on his fingers. “whatever you want, baby. take it, its all yours.” 

you clench around nothing when he suddenly yanks his fingers free, but you dont have to mourn the loss long, your empty spasming hole feeling the silken pressure of his cock in the next second. he grips your waist, wholly possessive as he drags you back onto him and, oh. Its so blissful. that tender ache in your cunt as its filled to the brim. You’d-

“fuck - i missed this - missed your pussy -” 

yes, yes missed. you’d missed this.

art adjusts himself. spreads out his legs so he can really move, leans his broad chest over your back, covering you, smothering you, squishing you into the countertop but he doesnt care. you dont care. pinned beneath him and speared open like this - you’ve never felt more loved by him. 

“so tight and warm - god - i never wanna leave -” he watches, pink lips parted where you’ve taken him. the flared open lips of your pussy hugging the base of his cock. a groan rips from his chest, loud, because he wants you to know, really fucking know, how overwhelmed he is, how much you make him feel, as he slowly drags himself out - only able to make it halfway before he has to bury himself back into that tight heat. your walls tighten and squeeze around him in these luxurious pulls and he feels spit pool in his mouth, the sensation enough to empty his brain. he rocks there, barely pulling free from the clutch of your body. 

“treat me so well with this - little cunt - “ wet desperate kisses are pressed wherever he can reach, his mouth hungry for the salt of your skin. he pulls it between his teeth, some raw animal part of him just wanting to naw on you. he rubs his forehead against your shoulders as he starts to move his hips faster. finally pulling out all the way before he slams back in, knocking your hips into the hard marble, and he should say sorry, he should take more care, you’ll be bruised surely, but then his mind flits back to your therapy session - at the words you’d both said - how you felt - and the words exchanged in your fight. and he feels something kindle in his chest, sparked to life by the liquid heat pouring through him - you fucking - you’re so cruel sometimes and you dont even know - you dont even see what you’re doing to him, the power you hold, how much he’d give to you if only you’d fucking open up to him. get angry at him. demand more of what you want instead of fucking expecting him to read your goddamn mind. 

he hadn’t felt the wet grip of his wifes pussy in months until just now. that couldn’t happen again. 

he pulls himself to his full height - using his ringed hand to make a makeshift leash of your hair, wrapping it around his tan fist. anchors you back onto his hard dick again and again in hard punishing pulls that seem to punch moans from you.

“this is how i should have treated you from the beginning, huh? come home every day and bend you over the minute i step through the door. pound out all my frustrations on this tight cunt. use you to masturbate my dick.” he grunts - that viseral fury that’d you’d seen spark in him briefly before was back in full force now. you could feel it in the reverberating clap of his balls against your ass. the forceful grip on your hair, yanking your neck back, nearly pulling your chest off the counter, your tits bouncing. “maybe then you’d appreciate me.”

you dont know what part in you is broken that soaks his cock at his treatment instead of clamping up. his anger, his vitriol, it all speaks to a deep part inside of you that screams to be wanted. you whimper and bear down around him, meeting him instead of shying away. 

“g - od - oh god, art - “

“would that make you my happy little wife?” he slows back down. drags his thick length in and out of you in purposeful rolls of his hips. “I bring all my shit to you and you devote this hot little pussy to warming my dick. you’ll take care of me, right? drop to your knees and give me a proper fucking welcome home.”

you cant think. your eyes are rolling back, your brain fogging. Its so good, oh god, how is it so fucking good. you’re drenched between your thighs, you can feel it running down your thighs. you can feel the hot raw part of your pussy that is being penetrated again and again on his cock as it retreats and then glides back in. 

“Im gonna cum.” is all you can say. “art, im so close -”

“fuck,” he stops his movements. grinding his hips into yours, churning his dick inside you. his mouth skims your ear, he lets go of your hair to grip you around the throat. “tell me you love me. tell me you love me when you cum, baby, or i swear to god, i cant do this anymore -” 

“I love you!” the words are the truest they’ve ever been in years. you’re on your tippy toes, squirming, trying to get away or trying to get closer, you cant tell. probably closer. you want art to carve apart for himself inside you - brand himself on you forever so you can never leave, never forget, never doubt this marriage. “I love you, i love you, i love you, i love-”

“I love you too. fuck - i need you to cum. cum on my cock and show me you still want this -” 

you shatter apart. a million stars exploding in a galaxy. arts strong arms come around you like a band, wrapping you up against him as you shake. your breaths come out harshly in sync. the beats of your heart a fast thrum between you. 

you turn your head, desperately seeking, and he’s there, already leaning down to take your lips in a kiss. 

the weight of him still inside you is one you take comfort in. you dont want him to leave your body. you dont want this to end. 

“stay,” you whisper against his mouth. 

his hand cups your cheek, strokes his thumb over the swell of your flushed skin. “always,” he says back. 

[lovers-rck]

okay. i finally wrote something. it's extremely short and stupid and cliche but i grew very fond of it. it doesn't have name yet but feel free to baptized it however you like.

enjoy and thanks for sticking around.

daily click for palestine

☆

the dim light of the room hits the yellowish walls. one of your posters is falling out.

ellie looks at you. you are hunched over some papers, your eyebrows are furrowed and you are making a non-intentional funny face.

"what are you reading?" ellie says, from the bed, her body sinking into your soft and warm sheets.

you are at your small and extremely messy desk. your back hurts, your head hurts, the ink of the letters printed on the crumpled paper mocks you and you are starting to lose your patience "um, acropolis and the greeks? i dont know. i can't wrap my mind about it."

ellie hums. she knows shit about art history.

"maybe i can help you" she says

she may not know anything about art history and the greeks and acropolis, but she know one thing: she is in love with you. she has been in love with you for a while now, and everytime you look at her, or you smile at her, o even when you flip your middle finger at her, she feels like being hit by a warm ray of sun in a cold day of winter.

"i just need a break" you say, and your body crashes into the bed. next to her.

"when is the exam?" ellie asks, her phone resting in her stomach.

"next week. im cooked"

your fingers run through your hair, you can feel how frustration and anxiety are spying behind the door waiting for the right moment to jump at you

"it drives me crazy not being able to understand anything of it, i really can't fail this exam" you continue, your eyes burning.

"you won't. you will be able to figure it out before the exam, you have time."

"no" you say, and ellie makes a face "i don't have time. im not like you ellie, i can't go to that exam and hope that luck is on my side."

ellie stays in silence. she can feel, and see, your anger and fear.

the jazz music that emanates from your cell phone is in the middle of a saxophone solo, slow and sweet, tints of melancholy color the strings of the instrument, causing the strangest feelings in ellie.

she ponders what to respond. she doesn't want to make you angry, but she is aware that she can't get rid of the frustration that reigns in your body no matter how much she would like to, so ellie thinks.

she thinks and thinks so much that the jazz solo ends withouth her noticing and the next musical delight that ellie hears is your voice.

"im sorry" you murmur, looking at her. your eyes are a bit glassy "i didn't mean to imply that you're dumb, or anything like that, it was stupid."

ellie smiles slightly "come here"

ellie opens her arms and you melt into her body. your head rests on her chest and your legs collide with ellie's, making the freckled girl's heart race slightly. her almost ghostly arm encircles your back, her fingertips hover tentatively over your shoulder, not daring to concretize the touch.

this has been going on for a few days now; ellie and you cuddling, but not so cuddled as to imply anything more than friendship, but not completely like friendship. sometimes ellie, at times like that and with a bit of foggy, dreamy thinking, pretends that you and her are more than just friends.

she hasn't dared to question it out loud, nor have you ever discussed it with her, all you both know is that your bodies respond instantly and instinctively to the hint, to the hidden desire, to the unspoken love of the other.

[killerlookz]

to my joost fic writers some lame ass blog is literally just rbing joost fics to complain abt ppl sexualizing him wahh wahh... just thought you guys should be warned <3

anyways... for those who feel offended by my blog's content, joost will literally never see my tumblr, so there's no need to "feel bad" for him, he literally has no clue who i am, and is living his day to day life completely unaffected by my, and any other writers work... and you rbing it, or bringing the work outside of tumblr is only bringing more attention to it- if he ever says he is uncomfortable with fics being written about him in this manner, i will obviously respectfully take them down <3 as i actually do respect him as a human being! im not some weird gross little freak who is actively trying to make him uncomfortable (and same can be said for the rest of the joost fic writers on here) contrary to what the twt and tiktok fans may believe

rpf has been apart of fandom forever, and i understand that this is definitely a debate that has been going on for awhile and people may absolutely have their own opinions and personal boundaries, YOU are not joost, nor are you any other celebrity- and therefore you cannot speak to what makes them comfortable or not, and it is not your job OR your place to make that decision for them.

please do not act like fic writers are actually being invasive or equate this to any sort of harassment, we aren't shoving this shit into joost's face, or forcing him to read these fics.

but this being said, i always tag rpf as such, and therefore, if rpf bothers you, literally just block the tag. people's tumblrs are THEIR personal space, it is not your job to police the internet for your fav! you literally have to ACTIVELY seek out these works to read it. there's a reason all my content is kept behind the "read more and tag rpf and smut" because i dont want you to see it if you DONT want to!! that's why it's hidden behind tags/read more because those "technically" act as consent for you to see the works.

but creating an ENTIRE blog to be weird abt fic writers is strange behavior! however i assume this person is probably a child and i will give them grace for that fact, and with that being said, you shouldn't be on NSFW blogs to begin with!

also please do not actively seek out content that upsets you!!!! it will do just that!!! upset you

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

I can completely break down the notion that jews do not experience ethnic discrimination within western countries, specifically the USA.

for context I am genetically half jewish and half italian, and since I was born i have been more connected to judaism in a cultural and a religious sense. though its not a huge part of my life like judaism is it's definitely still important.

a lot of people like to argue that jews were once not seen as white and now we are, just like Italians, Greeks, Irish, etc were (at least in the USA) and I can confirm that's total bullshit. I have, not once in my life, been treated badly for being Italian. I have never had someone shame me for my appearance, make fun of my cultural food, threaten me, insult me, insult my father, say they wish I died, harassed me, or any other violent or demeaning acts because im Italian. not once in my entire life has that happened. even living in the rural USA where traditional white supremacy is alive and well that did not happen.

yet I have absolutely been harassed, verbally abused, demeaned, belittled, etc. for being jewish. Ive experienced antisemitism since I was 5 and possibly younger. ive heard holocaust jokes, nose/eye jokes, had swastikas drawn on my things, received death threats, gotten rape threats, been called a murderer, been told I should burn, was told I was poisoning the seas, had people deny my very real trauma, was told that I should've stayed dead (for context I overdosed and had to be resuscitated once), and many more things all because im jewish. these are just instances in which it was specifically mentioned or heavily heavily implied that its because im jewish.

Many of these things happened when theae people didn't even know I'm a practicing jew and some even when I stopped practicing for a couple years. a lot of the time the only reason they had to believe I was jewish was my appearance and yeah sure they were right but what it shows is that appearance alone is enough for people to be antisemitic. you know, if jews weren't ethnically discriminated then why do people target us for having things like large noses and curly hair? or for the foods that we eat? or for anything that isnt directly related to religious practices?

anyway I dont believe for a second that anyone who thinks jews dont experience ethnic discrimination in the USA has ever had a genuine conversation with a jew about antisemitism. 5 year old me did not deserve to feel like he was ugly all for some assholes to say that jews are making all this up.

☆this is part 2 in which I will add important context bc if anyone is gonna overanalyze my argument its me. u can read it if you want its not necessary to understand the post.

like I said I have spent most of my life in rural areas where there are many less jews than in big cities and obvious white supremacy is common. im 100% sure this affected a lot of the antisemitism i received.

I am sephardic, not ashkenazi. most goyim do not have a clue what this means. those who do generally think it means "jewish but spicier and more exotic (aka less american)" which could have contributed to some of the discrimination i faced for not being seen as American enough.

this is my experience not anyone else's! I am not discrediting what other people have gone though regarding any experiences with discrimination

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.  

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self.  She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her. 

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.  

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.  

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job. 

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative. 

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.  

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?  

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.  

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.  

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.  

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work. 

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

[joeyspissstain]

i hate very little things more than i hate those 'fake disorder cringe' videos that keep popping up on my feed. literally a good fucking majority of the people in those tiktoks have no reason for people to believe theyre faking it. most of the time theyre just talking about their experiences with a disorder, people with DID and tourettes get it the worst usually, and theyre told theyre faking it. a disabled person will do ANYTHING related to their disorder and theyll be put in one of those videos

"but its so rare so they have to be faking it!!" dude what do you think rare means. rare means very uncommon, not that its a myth and no one on this planet actually has it

"people with xyz disorder dont talk about it so they have to be faking it!!" this might be shocking to you but not everyone with xyz disorder is the same

"thats not how it works!!" womp womp read the previous paragraph i wrote

you have no fucking idea whats in someone else's head or body so how dare you dictate it for them. i dont give a shit if you have the disorder yourself, i would hope you'd understand that not everyone's experience is the same. i dont give a shit if it actually seems like it might be fake, cause that doesnt mean you get to harass them. im not gonna fakeclaim someone for saying they have ADHD just because their experience isnt a carbon copy of my own

so moral of the story those 'fake disorder cringe' videos are extremely ableist and also just incredibly stupid and i hope anyone who watches them is ashamed of themselves

[mutsukiss]

Reading the first book is actually insightful on the last episode because without it the whole "you're so boring!!!!" rant comes very out of the blue. In the show Louis is SUPER tame about himself as a vampire and vampires in general because he reduces himself to this weird self flagellation cycle of "oooh I'm so bad and evil I kill people how will I ever live with myself *becomes a serial killer*" and he doesn't have much,, care? Love? Appreciation? For himself and his life. He's just stumbling around and being a victim of the narrative. Things happen to him and sometimes he's an active participant, and that's it.

In the book Louis is SO eager to go and learn to be a vampire and do vampire things and explore what being a vampire is. He makes references constantly about how his first experiences were rushed and messy and got him this extreme high he searches for everywhere, and is immensely frustrated because Lestat is instead reduced to someone who is solely focused on his own damaging cycle and has no desire to enjoy the trip, just to chase the high. Show!Louis engages in hobbies and has his own opinions and boundaries and makes them know but he also doesn't ask or suggest or even demand a lot of times, specially/specifically with Armand. He says "this is how I'm going to go through this thing, you are free to take it or not but I'm not following after if you decide to not agree" and it puts people in a position. He's paradoxically giving others the freedom to follow their own rules, but by creating a punishing situation. Don't come to see me if you want me to join the coven, we don't need to put a name to our relationship, ignore that I imagine Lestat when I'm with you. These are mostly understandable requests knowing his background and context that still put Armand in a difficult position and he's not really given any wiggle room around them. Armand attempts to get into Louis' world and enter him in Armand's, but Louis isn't really interested in anything outside of what he finds comfortable or familiar and doesn't have a lot of drive to go and pursue new things about him nor others around him unless he's accompanied or pushed by another character, the being exception the interview in the present.

The overzealous, identity-missing, heartstruck Armand; in all of his own manipulative and calculating skills and habits, agrees to Louis roaming around to cruise and drug, fuck, kill and get high from 128 !! persons in the 70's only, cleaning after him, and we are given the image that he has never complained about this ever, not ONCE. We see Armand giving in to whatever Louis says, having kind gestures to him, spending time with him, having what I believe is infinite patience. I dont think these are difficult or unpleasant tasks for him, i dont think they are tasks at all. He is courting and ¿dating? someone and these interactions are obviously pleasurable to him. Armand says if Louis wanted for him to go away he just had to ask, and even after we are made aware of him tampering with Louis' and Daniel's memories, i believe that had Louis asked him that he would have complied. So WHAT is Louis looking for that he couldn't ask Armand for and have him agree to. If what he is expecting or wanting is resistance, HOW does that make Armand boring. How can Armand refuse Louis when that implies a complete negative, a total refusal of future positive interactions. What more was there for Armand to do in that situation?

Ultimately I think Louis is coping as best as he can and he has realized he is resorting to harmful behaviors and attempting to recreate past toxic dynamics, and that it won't make him happy because it didn't make him happy in the past, but that he is equally unhappy now even when things are supposed to be "fine", whatever his defintion of fine is. And this is something that would have been incredibly more clear if Show!Louis had been given Book!Louis' wanderlust and eagerness to learn and do new things, because with that in context, the conversation in the flat makes complete sense to me, even if it's still unfair for both parties, but it's something that may feel so sudden and out of the blue for show only viewers.

[inkyray]

Do you have any suggestions for my page? I’m new to this and I love your writing so I wanted your opinion 🫶 and do you have any tips to first getting started on writing etc

took a quick stalk to ur account (UR AWESOME) and im no professional but here's my quick help on what i learned lol

in ur blog intro, write a little more about urself! share ur interests and hobbies, let whoever presses on your account get a brief understanding of you, and separate the different topics on ur with headers and fonts

for instance

" ✔What I will write about!

blah blah blah blah blah

❌What I won't write about!

blah blah blah blah blah "

now what i have trouble with is helping out with writing bruh that shit is so hard for what

here's what NOT to do: do not write in abbreviations or dialogue in a way of texting, unless they actually ARE texting

for example: Matt furrowed his eyebrows, "Idk what ur talking about." He shrugs. (BIG NO NO IMO!1! i hate seeing this in fics)

once you got ur plot down and ready, instead of explaining what's happening through dialogue, make sure you make the reader reads whats happening too.

dont do: "Wanna go to the festival? I'm bored." Y/n suggested. "Sure." Chris responded. (time skip) "Oh my God! I can't believe a clown jump scared us!" Y/n laughs.

feels very bland honestly, take your time with your scenes and write it how you'd want to read it yk

-

do! : Y/n sighed, feeling boredom swallow her whole. Letting her mind roam free with the desperation of wanting an answer to keep her occupied, her mind takes her back to the festival that was supposed to happen around the area. Her eyebrows shoot up at the thought and she feels herself grow excited. She turns to her best friend Chris. "Wanna go to the festival?" She wonders, noticing he's just as bored as she was. He perks up at the suggestion, "Sure."

(necessary time skip after writing out a few more scenes)

They wearily stepped through the mirror maze, seeing too many replicas of themselves look back at them. Chris's heartrate picks up as he hears footsteps that didn't belong to either of them. The lights were a dim red, he looked around himself to spot where the footsteps may be coming from, only seeing you and himself in reflections of mirrors. "Chris," you mutter, "I'm scared."

He bites his lower lip, going to stand next to you, no doubt also a little on edge. In seconds, the footsteps turn into stomps and a clown emerges from behind the two of you, in your vision it popped out from everywhere considering the mirrors. You yelp out in surprise and Chris flinches toward you, losing breath because of a mere prank from a clown.

-

Last thing, make sure you add this feature to your fics!

so that if someone is scrolling by and isnt in the mood for a fic, they wouldnt have to scroll too long past a bunch of paragraphs. hope i can help ily guys :3 lmk if u wanna know more lol

[veryinnovative]

Can you please explain seme/uke on jeggy that u dont like? Just curious bcs i didnt know what the term meant 10 mins ago and now i wanna know more about it and your relationship with jegulus on it

alrighty! i must preface this by saying that these are personal observations. I have my own opinions about this sudden shift, which in no way establishes a definitive standard for jeggy characterizations or an attempt to censor shit. if any of the information presented is wrong....please do let me know. I'm mostly using info from here

that aside, time to talk about yaoi and how i can see a trend of the seme/uke dynamic being applied in jegulus's case.

what is seme/uke?

If a fanfic or doujinshi 同人誌 is sexually explicit, pornographic, hentai 変態, and it features gay sex, then anyone with a pair of working eyes can tell who's "top" and who's "bottom" in it. (A harmful rhetoric is that the 'uke' is often perceived as the woman, which makes it worse in this case because Regulus is, afaik, generally written as a transman) Since BL puts less emphasis on sex itself and more on the relationship between characters, one could say that which character is depicted as "top" or "bottom" in the sexual act merely reflects the dynamic of the relationship itself.

as you can see, the influx of nsfw posts has led to a version of jegulus that increasingly conforms to this textbook definition. to reiterate, i am NOT suggesting that this long-established dynamic in the world of BL is inherently 'bad,' but it's something I've observed and, personally, don't find all that appealing. i think there's more to explore, especially when it comes to their sexual relationship, and can't help but feel icky when i keep seeing trans regulus assuming the role of the 'uke'. he's submissive, tiny, troubled, gives up control and submits to james who is dominant, bigger, and for some reason the embodiment of masculinity.

i could also really get into the yaoi-ified aspect of it but i think this speaks for itself:

Homophobic because instead of acknowledging it's a man-man or woman-woman relationship, it pretends it to be a man-woman relationship, which can be taken as heteronormative, promoting the idea that hetero must be normal. And sexist because it attempts to define what is the role of a man and a woman in a relationship. (NO ACCUSATIONS WHATSOEVER HERE, but I do think one must approach a seme/uke dynamic carefully if it involves (trans) regulus and some extent of feminization)

again, this is my personal opinion. i write jegulus switching quite a lot. i write james get his ass eaten out. i write dominant regulus because i like to explore how he exercises control after escaping an environment with restricted freedom. i know I'm the last one to talk considering my lack of knowledge on canon but reducing them to solely seme/uke is just not for me. but!!!! each to their own! I'm not one to yuck someone else's yum :) i just really miss the jeggy i frequently encountered when first joining the fandom last october and the variety of takes I read, that's all

but again, the seme/uke dynamic is a staple so i understand why posts involving the dynamic gain more traction and inevitably end on my dash.

EDIT: @prongsfish <3 addition

[grantmentis]

(feel free to not publish this btw this is absolutely shit stirring) omfg im so glad someone else doesn’t like alex i find her journalism to be extremely lacking and she refuses to acknowledge any faults in the pwhl even when a mn sports writer that has CONSISTENTLY COVERED WOMENS SPORTS comes out with an opinion piece about the situation that i think a lot of fans agree with she argues about ethics of journalism and it’s like!! i don’t think everything ian kennedy says is gospel but this situation is so fishy!! and i hate it so much!!!

she is like, very clearly a mouth piece/PR Arm for the PWHL/PWHPA and gets information from them and won't be critical of them because then she'd lose her insider information

ian kennedy is like her narrative foil in that he basically gets most of his information from like two player agents he's friendly with and one or two former phf vets and does nothing to fact check what they tell him. which is also bad but it is kind of funny that him and alex do the same thing but for different "sides" and drive each other nuts lol. as for fans reading either of their stories that they break its mostly trying to pick out what i think has merit or understanding that there's probably some truth to something but it's incredibly one sided.

that said azzi annoys me more because 1) her league connections give her more power in this space 2) she apparently treats people even worse in person and was a nightmare at the isobel cup finals in florida 3) when the ice garden shutdown on sbnation she pissed everyone off by being like "your work sucked but i dont believe you should be out of a job :(" and never apologized and imo shes very lucky no one threw hands with her over that

[error404vnotfound]

why is there such a big gap in teens' math knowledge man

im trying not to lose my mind as i tutor kids but still

i suffer

[jaypentaghast]

I love them please bring them back to meeeee

[bottombaron]

oh ok so its the usual no-homo bullshit you always hear, good to know.

[cemeterything]

anyway while i'm thinking about it i will never understand people who are like "why would you ever watch a movie/read a book/play the same game/etc. more than one when there are always new media to experience, it's just a waste of time" because like. how else are you supposed to fully appreciate the themes and narratives, the artistic choices made, your personal feelings and interpretations and the creator's intentions, the nuances of the story and the characters? every time i revisit a story i already know, i realize there's something i missed last time. i always discover there's more to learn if i'm willing to keep looking for it. there's nothing more exciting to me than searching the same cave for more hidden treasure.

[toytulini]

listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.

yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?

maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".

get a better joke

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 71: shy