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Sarahjswift - Sarahjswift - Tumblr Blog
I can’t even think about that or I’m going to
imagine if taylor brings maisie out during the acoustic set and they perform a mashup of peter x wendy
rules: put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for which one they like the most! 🎶
This such a random collection and I don’t even listen to Rihanna that much I thought?? 😛💕
Here is the third chapter of spotlight on me, baby where are you? (Originally a one shot named “emails I can’t send”)
I’m having so much fun writing this series!
Word Count: 1.7k
Enjoy! Please let me know what you think! 😚
~~
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Well, she couldn’t do that in the peace-killing device she wore. Aelin was pretty sure her dress was slowly suffocating her.
“At least you look hot,” Lysandra had shrugged when Aelin had mentioned this to her best friend and stylist. “And that’s all that matters at the Grammy after party, isn’t it?”
Now, Aelin blew out a breath as she stared out the tinted window to the building before her. Everywhere, celebrities were exiting their luxury vehicles and sashaying their way towards the party. She thought they looked like ants crawling over their nest.
“Ready?” Aedion, sitting on the other side of the car, asked. He was clad in sweats and a white T-shirt, hair pulled back. Lysandra leaned against him, a hand on her boyfriend’s knee, the green-eyed beauty wearing a simple black dress. For a moment, Aelin was overcome with a devastating envy; not just for her friends’ obvious bliss in their relationship, but for their life. After the Grammys performance, their job was done, and they could drive home and relax on the couch, watch Netflix, and go to sleep.
Not Aelin. No, because of the life she’d so desperately wanted, she’d squeezed into her dress and was carted off into the limo moments after the exhausting event that was the Grammys. Now, she would spend the next five hours maintaining her perfect image, avoiding the cruel paparazzi and pandering to the ones she knew her agent had paid. She’d be lucky if she got to sleep before five in the morning. That is, if she could sleep at all.
Aelin couldn’t help feeling alone. She’d never tell anyone else this, of course; complaining about her life just felt privileged and spoiled. The only person who truly understood was…
Was…
Gone. Somebody else’s to love.
Snapping back to reality, Aelin forced a smile and nodded. “Of course.”
She turned back to the window and took a final breath, closing her eyes as she let her face melt into the mask she’d perfected over the time since her break into the industry; the arrogance, the casual beauty, the always-present amusement. Looking over her shoulder, she shot her friends a wink before the door opened and she stepped out onto the street.
Instantly, she was overwhelmed by the chaos of it all; the flash of the cameras, the shouting of the paparazzi.
“Aelin, over here!”
“Aelin, how did it feel to perform at the Grammys without any nominations?”
“Here, Aelin!”
“Aelin, who are you wearing tonight?”
“Look here, Aelin!”
“How were the Grammys, Aelin?”
“One smile, Aelin!”
“Aelin, how did it feel to perform your pointed single in front of ex Whitethorn?”
A wave of cold washed over Aelin, and she swallowed and locked her spine. Plastering a smirk on her face, she moved toward the entrance, letting her hips swing with every step. She felt and saw the lightbulbs flash, and kept her eyes on the entrance. The guard at the door gave her a smile and a nod, stepping aside to let her in. Aelin walked through the threshold and sighed, shoulders slumping for one second before she forced her posture perfect again.
Here we go.
__
The music was too loud.
Much, much too loud - meant to drown out the chatter of the industry’s finest. Rowan wondered how much people paid to have their music played at events like these.
“Rowan?”
Rowan blinked and looked down, straight into big brown eyes. Lyria smiled softly up at him, the action lighting up her face from pretty to beautiful. She reached out, curled her fingers around Rowan’s dress shirt and tugged. Obliging her, Rowan leaned down, turning his head so she could whisper into his ear.
“Can we go find the rest of the group?” she asked, her lips grazing the shell of his ear. Rowan pulled back and nodded, offering her his arm to take as they left the room. Instantly, the chaos of the main room was muted as they stepped into a hallway. “Oh, it was agonizingly loud in there, wasn’t it?” Lyria asked.
“I don’t understand why they always crank the music up to the top volume,” Rowan grumbled, shaking his head. “I was about to lose feeling in my ears.”
Lyria giggled, a soft, breathy sound. “Good thing I saved you.”
“Good thing.”
They made their way through the crowds, craning their necks to find the rest of The Cadre. Rowan welcomed the quiet Lyria offered him, letting his mind wander. He still felt shaky, totally on edge. How could he go on through this stupid party, full of vain, vapid people, after what had happened just two hours before? He didn’t know how he’d held on so long without breaking down, honestly. Most likely thanks to Lyria’s sweet presence.
“There!” the girl in question said, pointing through the crowd. Rowan instantly saw the backs of the heads of Gavriel, Fenrys, and Lorcan, and began gently tugging Lyria towards them. He felt his spirits rise at the thought of talking to his friends, debriefing the Grammys, discussing the awards…They reached the group and his friends turned, letting him see who they were all talking to -
Oh, gods.
Oh, fucking gods.
Standing there, in all her glory. Dressed in a tight red dress that stopped mid-thigh and hugged every curve, sleeveless with a dipping neckline. A gold necklace was draped across a perfect collarbone, drawing the eyes to a delightful amount of cleavage - just enough to tease but modest enough to maintain control. Golden hair swooped back with gold clips, two perfect strands framing the face..that face. High cheekbones. A pair of full lips painted red to match the dress. Darkened eyelashes and a cat eye to accentuate those blue, fiery eyes.
At the sight, Rowan almost fell to his knees.
He thought half-hysterically that far below him, some dark god was laughing his ass off as Rowan drowned in those eyes…that perfect shade of blue, that untamable fire he’d always adored…
Rowan forced his gaze away from Aelin Galathynius, and just like that, he was in control again. His legs were once again steady and strong. His heart, on the other hand, was still hammering like he’d run a race.
“Oh, Rowan!” Gavriel stammered, looking nervous. Rightfully so. Rowan was going to kill him once they were out of here. “We - we were looking for you, but we couldn’t find you guys…” His voice trailed off, most likely thanks to the death-promise that was undoubtedly in Rowan’s eyes.
“We were in the main room,” Lyria replied for him. “It got too loud for Rowan, though. Old man.” She chuckled, patting his arm.
Old man. Rowan wondered if Lyria knew what she was doing, making that joke. He dared a glance…
Her eyes were full of flame, lips pursed. His gaze dropped to her hand, currently holding a flute of champagne, and watched her slender pointer finger tap against the glass, an almond nail clacking against the surface. Her tell, one that no amount of media training could stamp out of her. She was angry.
Rowan felt the ghost of a smile around his mouth. He loved the sight of Aelin Galathynius in a rage.
No. He tamped down on the thought before it could go any farther.
He knew why she was mad. He let the train of thought carry him away, to better times…
Old man…
Old man…
—“You old man!” The fond joke he’d grown accustomed to hearing. He’d rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair, smirking at her shrieks of fake rage.
“Sorry, we’ve got to get home…this old man here needs to be in bed before eleven.” The excuse she’d give their friends whenever his hands would trace below her lower back, or when he’d press pleading kisses to the back of her neck when nobody was looking. It was his favorite insult, given that it usually led to fingernails dragging down his back, a head thrown back in ecstasy, pleasure unlike he’d ever known.
“You’re such an old man.” The words he’d beheld in her eyes after his stiff and formal introduction to her father. She hadn’t even had to say anything for him to understand. He’d thrown her a wink and pressed a kiss to her mouth, reveling in her delighted laughter, arms around his neck. He’d pulled her to him, hugging her tight, breathing in her lemon verbena shampoo. Glancing up, he’d seen her father watching them at the door and knew the sight had won the man’s approval more than any conversation would. —
Rowan pushed away the memories. The joy of those days had now turned to despair. The once-beloved words, old man, as sacred as phrases of love, felt distorted and dirty coming from Lyria’s pink lips. Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth to speak-
“Rowan can’t stay in one place for long before he leaves, can he?”
All heads whipped to the cool-faced beauty standing before them. The words were dripping with acid, but in a voice so melodic it almost didn’t pierce Rowan’s heart.
Almost.
Gavriel, Fenrys, and Lorcan shifted, all finding the floor, their drinks, the ceiling suddenly riveting. Rowan swallowed and squared his shoulders. “Aelin-” he began.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had that problem with my boyfriend,” Lyria’s soft voice floated up from next to him, edged with a steel he’d never heard before from her. “We left because I wanted to.” She turned to him, smiling, and stroked his cheek once before letting her hand fall and grasp his tightly. “He’s always so responsive to my needs,” she said sweetly. Honeyed words, meant to choke.
Aelin’s nostrils flared, and she cocked her head in a move so animalistic a distant voice in Rowan’s mind wondered if she was descended from a leopard. A terrifying smile graced her mouth, eyes frozen in rage. Part of Rowan shrank back as his gaze darted from woman to woman. One feline and dangerous, the other doe-eyed and deceptively soft.
The soft part of Lyria, he saw, had gone as quickly as her loyalty to Aelin.
Aelin took one step forward. A single step, that had the entire group bracing themselves. Her words were breathy and tinged with dark amusement.
“Let’s see how long that lasts, sweetheart.”
@aelinchocolatelover @renxzs @throneofshadows @mariaofdoranelle
Hello everyone!!
I just wanted to let the few amazing people who read my fics know that I am going to be mostly posting my work on ao3 now, since it is much easier.
I’m going to be uploading many more updates to my fic “emails I can’t send” which is now titled “spotlight on me, baby where are you?”
You can find my ao3 through my master list, which is my pinned post, or just search for me through the same username!
Thank you! I adore all those who comment on my work 🥰
if you could only listen to three Taylor albums for the rest of your life, which ones would you pick?
The Great War fits Empire of Storms and Kingdom of Ash so wellll 🥺🥺
Literally every lyric but especially…
—“my hand was the one you reached for / all throughout the Great War”
—“I vowed not to cry anymore / if we survived the Great War”
—“I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone / you said I have to trust more freely / but diesel is desire, YOU WERE PLAYIN WITH FIRE”
—“somewhere in the haze, got a sense Id been betrayed” (EoS final scene 😭)
—“we can plant a memory garden…there’s no morning glory, it was war it wasn’t fair”
Was just talking about this!!
Throne of Glass is the most underrated SJM series. It’s so much better than the other ones in so many ways and I WILL die on this hill
After months…a tiny little update. For some backstory??? Idk lmao I reread this and then went back into the document that had the full story..most of it is garbage but I liked this sooo
I’m currently without a laptop but I will do my best to write more of this story since it is my favorite thing I’ve written!
FOUR MONTHS PREVIOUSLY
“Aelin, have you seen Rowan’s Instagram?”
Aelin gaped at Aedion. Her cousin, like the rest of her friend group, had been tip-toeing around the subject of her recent breakup. Just the sound of her ex-boyfriend’s name brought tears to her eyes, and the other day she’d had a breakdown over Rowan’s favorite fork. “N-no, of course not. Why?”
Aedion hesitated. “Well…” he trailed off, his eyes darting everywhere but her.
“What, Aedion?” Aelin asked sharply. When he didn’t respond, she snatched her phone out of her pocket, opened Instagram, and typed in Rowan’s profile with shaking fingers. She tapped on the newest post, and for a moment was caught in him, his beauty caught through the lens, beautiful eyes tired. He had dark circles and messy hair, but a huge smile was plastered on his face. Aelin tore her eyes off him and focused on the full picture - and sucked in a sharp breath.
Lyria stood next to him, curved around Rowan in a not-friends way. Leaning her head onto Rowan’s shoulder with her hand in his, Lyria was radiant with the force of her smile. The caption read; Can’t believe I finally get to announce this - Rowan Whitethorn, guitarist and backup singer for The Cadre - mine! My boyfriend, everyone! <3
Aelin was half-aware of the tears slipping down her cheeks as she flipped through the rest of the post. Millions of likes, picture after picture of the two, at the beach, Lyria’s house doing face masks, all those times Rowan had assured her they were “just friends”. There was a video, too, and knowing she would regret it Aelin clicked on it.
It was a short clip of Lyria zooming in on Rowan’s sleeping face as her cat burrowed into his neck. Lyria’s clear giggles sounded through the microphone as Rowan snored, and then Aelin’s gaze couldn’t see through the tears anymore.
“Aw, Ae…,” Aedion said softly, climbing up onto the couch with her and wrapping her into a hug. She sobbed onto her cousin’s shoulder, heart ripped open over and over and over.
“He…said…they…were…just…friends,” Aelin hiccupped, wiping away the stream of tears. “How…could he…do this?”
Aedion’s jaw was tense, eyes tight with anger. “I’m going to kill that bastard, I will...”
@aelinchocolatelover
@renxzs @mariaofdoranelle @blue-bird17
❤️
Emails I Can't Send-Rowaelin Fanfic
This is actually one of my favorite things I've ever written. It's based off of the song emails i can't send by Sabrina Carpenter. That whole album is so underrated - go listen to it! If you want, listen to the song while reading. The song is so so heartbreaking and I just had to write about it. :)
(I know I haven't posted in a while, so I thought this would be perfect because I love it so much. I wrote it back in August <33)
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Language, some suggestive language
Tag List: @backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @renxzs, @blue-bird17, @luell1q
__
The song had come from everything and nothing at the same time. She’d written it on a crumpled piece of paper, droplets of her tears weakening the page, at three in the morning. All of her hurt and pain and fear from that night put into a couple scrawling paragraphs.
Now, standing backstage in the wings, Aelin took a deep breath. The crew buzzed around her, Lysandra last-minute checking her makeup, hair and outfit before she went onstage. “Are you going to be okay?” her friend asked, emerald eyes filled with concern. “I know it’s an emotional song for you to sing live, and…you know, Rowan’s out there…”
Aelin winced as the sound of her ex-boyfriend’s name sliced through her heart. It was a pain she was used but not invulnerable to. “I’ll be fine,” she said, more to herself than anything. Nevermind Rowan was seated somewhere in the audience with the rest of his band, and soon he’d be about to hear a breakup song about him…no, never mind that.
__
Rowan was trying very hard not to think about what was coming next, about how the woman he loved with everything he had was about to be feet away from him. He’d never heard the song she was singing, very purposefully - whenever it came on the radio, which was every day, he’d cranked down the volume quickly.
Rowan took a gulp of champagne and tried to think of other things. He and his band, The Cadre, had given a decent performance, performing their song K. It was a crowd-pleaser, one of their first hits about Gavriel’s wife, Krystal. He sat at the table with the band - his brothers, really - their partners, and Maeve, the band manager.
Over the speakers, the host boomed; “Please put your hands together for Aelin Galathynius!”
__
Aelin took a deep breath and stepped out onto the stage, immediately hit with the white-hot spotlight. She stood in front of the standing microphone and smiled as the audience cheered.
“Thank you,” she said, her own voice echoing back at her through the earpiece. “And thanks to all the fans who got me here, performing at the Grammys. This is my new single, emails I can’t send.”
She tuned out the clapping and focused on the instrumentals leaking into her left ear. Nodding to Aedion, her cousin on piano, she took a deep breath.
__
“It’s times like these, wish I had a time machine so I could see what you did October 13th,” she sang. “At 10:15, were you really asleep or were you lying to me and the family?”
Rowan’s stomach emptied out. October 13th, the night of Aelin’s album release party and one of their biggest fights. The night he’d lied, saying he was with Lorcan when he’d been over at Lyria’s, comforting her while she cried. Comforting Lyria over the record label rejection, when he should’ve been with Aelin, celebrating with her.
He gazed up at Aelin, who looked heartbreakingly beautiful in a simple white crop top with princess sleeves and low-rise jeans, that showed off her muscled body in a stupidly perfect way. He couldn’t help but think of how he would peel those clothes off her if he hadn’t been such an idiot…get a grip, man. Creep.
“There’s no us in us when I’m lacking trust,” Aelin continued, and he forced his mind into the present - even worse. Her expression was reserved as her eyes floated over the audience, looking or not looking for one person. “You wanna discuss, ugh, you disgust me…”
The words sliced through him. You disgust me.
__
Aelin couldn’t tell if she sounded good or not, but she was getting into the mood of the song now. “Don’t make me cuss you out, why’d you let me down? Don’t say sorry now.”
Her voice was rising as she got to the climax of the song, the part she’d truly poured out of the sobs that had wracked her body that night. “And thanks to you I, I can’t love right, I get nice guys and villainize him,” she crooned. “Read their texts like they're having sex right now, scared I’ll find out that it’s true..”
As she sang, she closed her eyes and unlocked the gates she’d built brick by brick over the past five months, the pain and despair from Rowan flowing out her heart and into her voice. “And if I do, then I blame you for every worst that I assume; when I’m 45 someone calls me their wife and he fucks,” at that word, her voice broke in the crooning sort of way that she loves, “our lives in one selfish night.” The lyric, the story, the truth.
__
Rowan was in heaven because the subject of his every desire was standing in front of him singing with the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, and he was in hell because she was singing a heartbreaking song about him.
“Don’t think I’ll find forgiveness as fast as mom did,” Aelin said, and that was the moment when her beautiful, beautiful eyes rested on Rowan. Electricity coursed through him as she did, and he held her gaze as if her irises were his last lifeline. The most heartbreaking and despairing expression flickered across her exquisite face and it was all Rowan could do not to leap out of his chair and hold her as she pointed an accusing finger at him and cried; “And God, I love you, but you’re such a dipshit.”
__
“Please fucking fix this,” Aelin neared-whispered as the song crested, the instrumentals fading and becoming sadder, more mellow. She blinked away the tears blurring her vision, Rowan’s piercing green eyes sending sparks through her body, “‘Cause you were all I looked up to.” and Lyria placed a possessive hand on her boyfriend’s arm, placing a kiss to his muscled shoulder, “And now I can’t even look at you,” and Aelin looked away and lowered her arm as the roaring of the audience overwhelmed the room.
Rowaelin Month: PROMPT LIST
HERE IT IS! The Rowaelin Month 2024 Prompt List! We're so excited to spend the entire month of September celebrating our favorite Fireheart and Buzzard! By popular demand, we're posting the list early this year to give everyone plenty of time to plan and work on their lovely creations!
We’ve included a handy calendar image for you all, but if for any reason the image isn’t working or is hard to read, the full list is written out below the cut.
Please Remember:
1. Participation every day is not a requirement! You can create submissions for as few or as many of the listed prompts as you like!
2. Please remember to tag your creations with #rowaelinmonth so people following the tag can find your works and give us a mention @rowaelinscourt so we can reblog it!
3. Please remember that all works MUST have appropriate tags/or content warnings. NSFW content is welcome, but MUST be tagged clearly and hidden below a ‘Read More’ cut. We want everyone to have a fun and safe time engaging with content!
4. All genres of work are welcome, but please note any major warnings at the top of the work so that readers or viewers can have some idea of what to expect.
5. Canon week will be September 15th through the 21st ( indicated by the green squares on the calender/prompts marked with C on the prompt list below. As well as a special canon day on the 30th to end the event. While we encourage Canon Week prompts remain specifically for canon scenarios, remember that any and all prompts are welcome to be interpreted as a canon/canon inspired setting as well. With creativity and imagination, the possibilities are limitless!
6. Any kind of fanwork can be submitted for this event so long as it can be applied to the prompt. Fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, playlists or anything else you can think of! There are no requirements and you can submit multiple works for the same prompt if you so wish!
HAPPY CREATING AL!
- Your Friendly Rowaelin Month Admin Team
2024 Prompts List
1. Long Distance Surprise
2. Spies / Heist
3. Idiots in Love
4. Accidental Nude
5. Birthdays
6. Misunderstanding Leading to Disaster
7. All Dressed Up
8. Ocean/Beach
9. Meet Ugly
10. Concert/Music Festival
11. Song fic
12. “But Daddy I Love Him!” / Forbidden Love
13. Rowaelin finding out they’re pregnant
14. Survival
15. C: What if...?
16. C: Opening of the library or royal theater
17. C: Hobbies
18. C: Anniversary
19. C: A day with the kids
20. C: Nature
21. C: What happens next?
22. Performers
23. Second Chance Romance
24. Family
25. Strangers on a train
26. Matching Tattoos
27. Single Parent
28. Eloping
29. Percy Jackson / Star Wars / Barbie & Ken au
30. C: Alternate/Missing Scene from Canon
AHAHAHAHAHH
TRAVIS IS AT THE SHOW AND STEVIE NICKS LEFT RHE TENT
María if anyone can do it it’s you!! <33
Request here! (Don’t need to do it if you don’t want too!!)
A fic where Aelin is a really famous celebrity but she falls in love with a criminal (Rowan) so she secretly dates him until another famous person starts liking her and she can’t decline them or it will look bad so she dates the guy but also dates Rowan (and you can figure out the rest)
I’d love if you did this but it’d be completely fine if you don’t, love your fic’s ❤️❤️❤️
oh shit HAHAHAHAHHAH i’m gonna update a few fics while i plot this one but absofuckinglutely yes
i just don’t write rowaelin cheating on each other but i’m already figuring something out for the last bit of the prompt hehe
𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮…
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐠𝐨𝐰𝐧.
🎨: @spearthymint
Commissioned by me
𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑶 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑹𝑬𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻. 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻 𝑮𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑵.
idbaldnskan
💜 + dealers choice on ship.
💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss (hellooooo and thank you, I originally thought of branching out but then did firstprince anyway lmao. read all the kiss ficlets)
“And the Oscar goes to… Henry Fox!”
For a moment, Henry just sits there, stunned. This wasn’t supposed to be his year; yes, he’d gotten a lot of critical acclaim for his role, but he was going up against lots of huge names. Acting legends, people who had been in the industry for ages. Honestly, Henry hadn’t been able to convince himself this was anything more than a courtesy nomination. Then again, he always did feel the shadow of his father looming large during these times. Alex always used to call him out on it, used to help him see that he was more than just his father’s son—ironic, considering their first meeting. Maybe that was part of it, that Alex was the only one he trusted to be totally honest with him.
But Henry hasn’t had that for the past year. Hasn’t had Alex. Who is, as last year’s winner, the person that’s just said his name up on stage. Christ, he has to go up there now and say something coherent, when the only thing he can think of is how much he misses the man standing up there, smiling at him. How much he regrets what happened last year that tore them apart, and how he can’t stop wondering if there’s any way to repair the damage. Just now, Alex doesn’t look mad at him, but then again, he is an exceptional actor.
There are four other actors Henry has to shake hands with before he reaches Alex—and his Oscar. Honestly the little gold man has nothing on the golden god standing before him in a burgundy velvet tux. Henry sticks his hand out, unsure, but Alex hauls him into a crushing hug, his lips close to Henry’s ear as he whispers, “I’m so fucking proud of you, H.”
Maybe Alex is a great actor, but Henry knows him, to his bones. Knows what he sounds like when he’s trying to hold back real emotion. Knows that Alex could have sent him off with a handshake or a slap on the back and no one would be any wiser. And Henry knows, in that split second, that what he’s going to do will make history.
Henry pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes, and he can see the moment where Alex realizes what he intends to do. He relaxes his grip, but Alex doesn’t withdraw, so Henry does what he should have done a year ago, in front of the entire theater and millions of live viewers: he draws Alex into a kiss. As Alex kisses him back, grinning into like he’s the one who’s just won an award, Henry knows that, whatever else happens tonight, this will be the only moment that matters to him.
The cheers from the audience are deafening.
You all went above and beyond Tysm I love tumblr 🥹🫶
If you can, please reblog this with your favorite feysand fics!! I need some delicious new ones to cuddle up with 😚
If you can, please reblog this with your favorite feysand fics!! I need some delicious new ones to cuddle up with 😚
I BEG YOU DONT EMBARRASS ME MOTHERFUCKER
the way she sings “motherfucker”… i see you countrybrina
make a girl smile today.
give her a sword.
Three Brothers and Three Sisters - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Artist: @termesart
it was february and i blinked & now June is TOMORROW
🥹❤️
Letter on; The Tortured Poets Dept.
Dear Chairman,
On the morning of its release, I woke up at 4.44am (I am a UK Swiftie so it came out at 5am). I opened up my notes app pressed play and became transfixed, utterly speechless for 13 minutes it wasn’t until 'Down Bad' that I fully regained consciousness in the universe. It was an otherworldly experience that I cannot summarise in words I am not a literary expert tbh*.
The album ended, I had cried and screamed, cheered and awoken my entire household. My friends woke, listened and I relistened to the chairman’s confessional masterpiece once again. On second listen I actually was able to process the first three songs, and I was listening to a favourite ‘The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived’ when at 7.17am, sat on the sofa in my uniform, I saw the release of the anthology. I looked to my brother, on call with the ‘loml’ and cried. I pressed play on The Black Dog as tears fell involuntarily down my face. I continued to literally hyperventilate to the point of an anxiety attack until ‘How Did It End?’. I immediately felt drawn to it. Pulled into the cyclical melody and incomparable lyrics. This song, to me, proved the total power of this album. It is so real, so individual but entirely universal. As a teenaged lesbian, I honestly could not be further from the audience for this song, I have never been in love or fallen from it but the simple imagery of a miscommunication, misunderstanding and loss.
She makes me feel it, makes me feel present. That. She is the power I want to support and defend forever. I was barely alive; I didn’t live and I didn’t want to. Now I want the love in ‘So High School’, I want the suffering in ‘The Prophecy’ and I don’t want to just ‘Look In People’s Windows’.
Thank you for reading my soliloquy. I hate it here a little less and I love you, religiously.
Sincerely, em x
@taylorswift @taylornation
I will never get over this
The Inner Circle - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Artist: @tangerine.eileen
what is your taylor swift song, the one that nobody else gets or appreciates the way you do?