prize i'd cheat to win

@ivyindreamland

raye. 27. still thinks reputation is a good album.

3,560 posts

ok I know my following has shifted in its interests due to me stepping back from swiftieism. however. I reblogged the fic post yesterday but I need to plug this fic by @ivyindreamland which is an extremely delightful ummm. let's say bitchy camp retelling of kaylor ca. 2016, with name changes. every time I read a chapter I cackle.

some extremely good moments for your perusal

She froze the frame on a shot of her clad in leather and holding a whip in front of rows of female mannequins. As if. Dorothea won't even do handcuffs.

—

beard-on-beard violence:

“Well maybe I don't need help from a guy with an eyeball-licking kink,” I snap at him. He pales. “That's uncalled for,” he scolds after he's taken a second to recover. “Kinkshaming is wrong. Anyway, I told you about that because I trust you.” “Kinkshaming is homophobic,” I correct him. “And I eat pussy every day, so it doesn't matter.” He raises an eyebrow. “Found someone?”

—

“What?” I snap. “You think you can win me over with some bullshit sob story about what you do or don’t deserve? You’ve been ignoring all my texts for weeks. You didn’t even comment on the cute corgi I took a picture of for you last Tuesday.” “I’m a cat person,” Dorothea barks.

HELLOOOOOOOOOO????? MWAH ILY THANK YOU FOR SHARING!!! 😭😭😭

#🌹✨️💅❤️‍🩹💫

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 1: Mansion With a View [AO3]

"Oh, there's your brother in law." Dorothea angles the remote at my screen like she's got half a mind to throw it. "Looks like shit." "Uh, yeah," she agrees, opting to drop it onto the carpet instead. She lowers onto her elbow then climbs back on top of me again. "Who's he wearing?" "Nobody," I snort as her stubby fingers brush my cheek. Dorothea raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug against the pillows. His wife is in Carolina Herrera, like I give any fucks about men's suits if I don't have to stand beside them. Getting it into my contract that neither I nor Sam could be made to look like Republicans was already a bitch and a half and I had to borrow Dorothea's lawyers: the less I have to think about James, the better.

This is obviously fiction, but it is based on Taylor and Karlie's relationship circa 2016 onward with some... uh, twists. Actually, everyone is OOC. The story is offensive so if you're especially vulnerable don't read it. The characters are portrayed as misogynistic, homophobic, bitchy, and manipulative. I don't endorse the actions or opinions of the characters.

new chapter!

BOYFRIEND 💖: u good? BOYFRIEND 💖: [Link] Apparently Sam thinks I don't know what The Sun will have to say about Dorothea before the articles are even written. What's he doing reading The Sun anyway? There's no reason for an all-American couple to be reading British newspapers unless we're in them. I tap on the link. Who is Dorothea Rose's boyfriend William Harkness? Blah blah, he's British, he's played in a bunch of movies no one's seen. It's not worth the cents of ad revenue we've now both thrown some foreign company. KHLOE: you're in-laws with the president's daughter. maybe pick from the ny post next time

oops i did it again

this one's a bit graphic so plz read the warning in the note

Bear Morgan — not to be confused with Barrie Morris, the record executive for Dorothea's label, or Barry Rose, Dorothea's dad — is a world-renowned entertainment manager the Sperrys put me in touch with who has managed tens of the most influential artists in the world. He also manages me. Dorothea is convinced Bear has a grudge against her because his insane client Bradey called her a bitch and put a naked model of her in his music video and Bradey’s wife, Jen Jones, made everyone think he had Dorothea's permission to do it. Obviously I don't condone Jeney’s actions. Sexual harassment and revenge porn are unforgivable affronts both to Dorothea's personal dignity and autonomy and to feminism and women's rights writ large. I think Ey's actions are despicable and I publicly apologized for modeling his sneakers. But I don't know what Bear has to do with it.

eye theory canon

Dorothea wants me to be in her album. Well, she claims PERSONA is all about me, but she wants me to really be involved. This means doing what I do best: posing for a camera. We're hovering behind her album artist as he superimposes my eye over hers. “Because only so many people really see us,” she overexplains the message, but still — it's clever, and it tells the world I'm part of her. I see what she sees. No beauty in the world matters except filtered through me. No one knows how to recognize beauty in the world except for me. Dorothea said something like that to me once. That I'm one of the world's last true believers. I turn, I close my fingers around her jaw. She looks surprised, her eyes dart to the editor — oh, who gives a fuck what some NPC named Joey thinks, Dorothea — and I kiss her. She's tense for a second, and then she melts into my touch, pulling me into a hug. It's… too sweet. “Khloe,” she whispers. I watch her - her blue-grey eyes, her lips pillowy with well-settled filler. “You're gonna be immortal.”

magazines are making her cray again

If she weren't such an attention whore Dorothea would've made her career on usurping Banksy. Quaint little stunts are her obsession, and how the press can still report on her renewed commitment to keeping her private life private while also doling out “juicy, exclusive revelations” from the Club Confidential meetings she hosts for fans in her literal house is an irony I'll never understand. Club Confidential is a new Dorothea tradition; she plays them the album and tells them the true stories behind the songs, and the fans go home thinking a multimillionaire trusts them with her precious secrets. It's brilliant in a prostitute kind of way. I'm at LAX flanked by my sisters and waving politely but curtly to the paparazzi. You never want to seem like you like their presence – that's slutty – but you also don't want to go too far with the annoyance. They're vindictive little shits. Kourtney is trying to whisper something to me as if I can hear her over all the shutters clicking. My sisters are my best friends the way a clingy, asthmatic pug is man's best friend. “Have you met Dorothea Rose's ‘angel boyfriend,’ Khloe?” a paparazzo shouts firstname lastname at me as if there's another Dorothea. My eyes are not rolling because I am a beacon of grace and self-control.

it's not cheating if you're not dating

Not everyone in the world is a backstabbing traitor. Jordyn is gorgeous, tall, hot and British but in a sexy racially ambiguous cocktail way, unlike Dorothea’s pasty pickup, and she’s been one of my best friends since before we both became world-famous models. She was one of the first girls I slept with after Sawyer, everyone calls us Khlordyn, and lesbian forums have for years made a diligent habit of reposting the picture where she’s holding my boobs. “We should totally make her jealous,” Jor’s eyes sparkle and I grin at her because she still completely understands me.

Tonight’s pick is one of the Harry Potter movies – a favourite of Dorothea’s that she usually refuses to reference in public because she doesn’t like acknowledging anything bigger than her and JK Rowling definitely is. I’m hoping by showing I take an interest in foreign film and culture it might help me a little with my Queen family problems.

did you say kaylor and weddings ???

In the middle of my sprawling living room, Dorothea dances drunk under rainbows. She twists and twirls like that first night, her curly hair sticking to her gloss. We were both young, she’s singing, but it looks like she’s mouthing the words from behind the frosted glass. I press my hands to the pane.

“Dorothea?”

She smiles at me, girlish, not quite free. She’s wearing one of those trick dresses and the glitter is swallowed by swan feathers as she spins closer to me. Who designed that? Her hand reaches through - she grabs me by the Yves Saint Laurent blazer and pulls me in. I fall into her arms and she holds me by her elbows under my pits like I’m drowning. Maybe I am.

“Khloe.”

I blink. Sam’s manicure is in my wrist and his parents’ chandelier is blinding me with colour.

Cheryl and Charlie Sperry are watching me with bated breath.

Sam looks at me and I nod.

“Let’s announce it.”

Sam and I are engaged.

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 1: Mansion With a View [AO3]

"Oh, there's your brother in law." Dorothea angles the remote at my screen like she's got half a mind to throw it. "Looks like shit." "Uh, yeah," she agrees, opting to drop it onto the carpet instead. She lowers onto her elbow then climbs back on top of me again. "Who's he wearing?" "Nobody," I snort as her stubby fingers brush my cheek. Dorothea raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug against the pillows. His wife is in Carolina Herrera, like I give any fucks about men's suits if I don't have to stand beside them. Getting it into my contract that neither I nor Sam could be made to look like Republicans was already a bitch and a half and I had to borrow Dorothea's lawyers: the less I have to think about James, the better.

This is obviously fiction, but it is based on Taylor and Karlie's relationship circa 2016 onward with some... uh, twists. Actually, everyone is OOC. The story is offensive so if you're especially vulnerable don't read it. The characters are portrayed as misogynistic, homophobic, bitchy, and manipulative. I don't endorse the actions or opinions of the characters.

new chapter!

BOYFRIEND 💖: u good? BOYFRIEND 💖: [Link] Apparently Sam thinks I don't know what The Sun will have to say about Dorothea before the articles are even written. What's he doing reading The Sun anyway? There's no reason for an all-American couple to be reading British newspapers unless we're in them. I tap on the link. Who is Dorothea Rose's boyfriend William Harkness? Blah blah, he's British, he's played in a bunch of movies no one's seen. It's not worth the cents of ad revenue we've now both thrown some foreign company. KHLOE: you're in-laws with the president's daughter. maybe pick from the ny post next time

oops i did it again

this one's a bit graphic so plz read the warning in the note

Bear Morgan — not to be confused with Barrie Morris, the record executive for Dorothea's label, or Barry Rose, Dorothea's dad — is a world-renowned entertainment manager the Sperrys put me in touch with who has managed tens of the most influential artists in the world. He also manages me. Dorothea is convinced Bear has a grudge against her because his insane client Bradey called her a bitch and put a naked model of her in his music video and Bradey’s wife, Jen Jones, made everyone think he had Dorothea's permission to do it. Obviously I don't condone Jeney’s actions. Sexual harassment and revenge porn are unforgivable affronts both to Dorothea's personal dignity and autonomy and to feminism and women's rights writ large. I think Ey's actions are despicable and I publicly apologized for modeling his sneakers. But I don't know what Bear has to do with it.

eye theory canon

Dorothea wants me to be in her album. Well, she claims PERSONA is all about me, but she wants me to really be involved. This means doing what I do best: posing for a camera. We're hovering behind her album artist as he superimposes my eye over hers. “Because only so many people really see us,” she overexplains the message, but still — it's clever, and it tells the world I'm part of her. I see what she sees. No beauty in the world matters except filtered through me. No one knows how to recognize beauty in the world except for me. Dorothea said something like that to me once. That I'm one of the world's last true believers. I turn, I close my fingers around her jaw. She looks surprised, her eyes dart to the editor — oh, who gives a fuck what some NPC named Joey thinks, Dorothea — and I kiss her. She's tense for a second, and then she melts into my touch, pulling me into a hug. It's… too sweet. “Khloe,” she whispers. I watch her - her blue-grey eyes, her lips pillowy with well-settled filler. “You're gonna be immortal.”

magazines are making her cray again

If she weren't such an attention whore Dorothea would've made her career on usurping Banksy. Quaint little stunts are her obsession, and how the press can still report on her renewed commitment to keeping her private life private while also doling out “juicy, exclusive revelations” from the Club Confidential meetings she hosts for fans in her literal house is an irony I'll never understand. Club Confidential is a new Dorothea tradition; she plays them the album and tells them the true stories behind the songs, and the fans go home thinking a multimillionaire trusts them with her precious secrets. It's brilliant in a prostitute kind of way. I'm at LAX flanked by my sisters and waving politely but curtly to the paparazzi. You never want to seem like you like their presence – that's slutty – but you also don't want to go too far with the annoyance. They're vindictive little shits. Kourtney is trying to whisper something to me as if I can hear her over all the shutters clicking. My sisters are my best friends the way a clingy, asthmatic pug is man's best friend. “Have you met Dorothea Rose's ‘angel boyfriend,’ Khloe?” a paparazzo shouts firstname lastname at me as if there's another Dorothea. My eyes are not rolling because I am a beacon of grace and self-control.

it's not cheating if you're not dating

Not everyone in the world is a backstabbing traitor. Jordyn is gorgeous, tall, hot and British but in a sexy racially ambiguous cocktail way, unlike Dorothea’s pasty pickup, and she’s been one of my best friends since before we both became world-famous models. She was one of the first girls I slept with after Sawyer, everyone calls us Khlordyn, and lesbian forums have for years made a diligent habit of reposting the picture where she’s holding my boobs. “We should totally make her jealous,” Jor’s eyes sparkle and I grin at her because she still completely understands me.

Tonight’s pick is one of the Harry Potter movies – a favourite of Dorothea’s that she usually refuses to reference in public because she doesn’t like acknowledging anything bigger than her and JK Rowling definitely is. I’m hoping by showing I take an interest in foreign film and culture it might help me a little with my Queen family problems.

did you say kaylor and weddings ???

In the middle of my sprawling living room, Dorothea dances drunk under rainbows. She twists and twirls like that first night, her curly hair sticking to her gloss. We were both young, she’s singing, but it looks like she’s mouthing the words from behind the frosted glass. I press my hands to the pane.

“Dorothea?”

She smiles at me, girlish, not quite free. She’s wearing one of those trick dresses and the glitter is swallowed by swan feathers as she spins closer to me. Who designed that? Her hand reaches through - she grabs me by the Yves Saint Laurent blazer and pulls me in. I fall into her arms and she holds me by her elbows under my pits like I’m drowning. Maybe I am.

“Khloe.”

I blink. Sam’s manicure is in my wrist and his parents’ chandelier is blinding me with colour.

Cheryl and Charlie Sperry are watching me with bated breath.

Sam looks at me and I nod.

“Let’s announce it.”

Sam and I are engaged.

Where the Armour Ends

Chapter Seven: I Want Your Midnights

Kaylor

Read on AO3

In this chapter: I HEAR WE'RE DISCUSSING KAYLOR AND WEDDINGS??

In the middle of my sprawling living room, Dorothea dances drunk under rainbows. She twists and twirls like that first night, her curly hair sticking to her gloss. We were both young, she’s singing, but it looks like she’s mouthing the words from behind the frosted glass. I press my hands to the pane.

“Dorothea?”

She smiles at me, girlish, not quite free. She’s wearing one of those trick dresses and the glitter is swallowed by swan feathers as she spins closer to me. Who designed that? Her hand reaches through - she grabs me by the Yves Saint Laurent blazer and pulls me in. I fall into her arms and she holds me by her elbows under my pits like I’m drowning. Maybe I am.

“Khloe.”

I blink. Sam’s manicure is in my wrist and his parents’ chandelier is blinding me with colour.

Cheryl and Charlie Sperry are watching me with bated breath.

Sam looks at me and I nod.

“Let’s announce it.”

Sam and I are engaged.

#kaylor #taylor swift rpf #where the armour ends #kaylor by any other name

You can make friends over the internet by posting about wanting to see male celebrities having gay sex

#this works just as well for female celebrities btw

sometimes i like to ruin everybody’s day <3

If you experienced this, what were your thoughts then v now?

I thought it was cute at the time, I still do

I thought it was cute at the time, I am apathetic about it now

I thought it was cute at the time, I am horrified now

I was apathetic about it then, now I think it’s cute

I was apathetic about it then, I still don’t care now

I was apathetic about it then, I am horrified now

I was horrified about it then, now I think it’s cute

I was horrified about it then, now I don’t care

I was horrified about it then, I am still horrified

Voting ended onMar 13

no nuance beyond these options. do your best with what’s here !

have a suspicion as to what will win but let’s see! i’m pretty bad at guessing where polls will go

#didn't care still don't #I just thought it was boring

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 1: Mansion With a View [AO3]

"Oh, there's your brother in law." Dorothea angles the remote at my screen like she's got half a mind to throw it. "Looks like shit." "Uh, yeah," she agrees, opting to drop it onto the carpet instead. She lowers onto her elbow then climbs back on top of me again. "Who's he wearing?" "Nobody," I snort as her stubby fingers brush my cheek. Dorothea raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug against the pillows. His wife is in Carolina Herrera, like I give any fucks about men's suits if I don't have to stand beside them. Getting it into my contract that neither I nor Sam could be made to look like Republicans was already a bitch and a half and I had to borrow Dorothea's lawyers: the less I have to think about James, the better.

This is obviously fiction, but it is based on Taylor and Karlie's relationship circa 2016 onward with some... uh, twists. Actually, everyone is OOC. The story is offensive so if you're especially vulnerable don't read it. The characters are portrayed as misogynistic, homophobic, bitchy, and manipulative. I don't endorse the actions or opinions of the characters.

new chapter!

BOYFRIEND 💖: u good? BOYFRIEND 💖: [Link] Apparently Sam thinks I don't know what The Sun will have to say about Dorothea before the articles are even written. What's he doing reading The Sun anyway? There's no reason for an all-American couple to be reading British newspapers unless we're in them. I tap on the link. Who is Dorothea Rose's boyfriend William Harkness? Blah blah, he's British, he's played in a bunch of movies no one's seen. It's not worth the cents of ad revenue we've now both thrown some foreign company. KHLOE: you're in-laws with the president's daughter. maybe pick from the ny post next time

oops i did it again

this one's a bit graphic so plz read the warning in the note

Bear Morgan — not to be confused with Barrie Morris, the record executive for Dorothea's label, or Barry Rose, Dorothea's dad — is a world-renowned entertainment manager the Sperrys put me in touch with who has managed tens of the most influential artists in the world. He also manages me. Dorothea is convinced Bear has a grudge against her because his insane client Bradey called her a bitch and put a naked model of her in his music video and Bradey’s wife, Jen Jones, made everyone think he had Dorothea's permission to do it. Obviously I don't condone Jeney’s actions. Sexual harassment and revenge porn are unforgivable affronts both to Dorothea's personal dignity and autonomy and to feminism and women's rights writ large. I think Ey's actions are despicable and I publicly apologized for modeling his sneakers. But I don't know what Bear has to do with it.

eye theory canon

Dorothea wants me to be in her album. Well, she claims PERSONA is all about me, but she wants me to really be involved. This means doing what I do best: posing for a camera. We're hovering behind her album artist as he superimposes my eye over hers. “Because only so many people really see us,” she overexplains the message, but still — it's clever, and it tells the world I'm part of her. I see what she sees. No beauty in the world matters except filtered through me. No one knows how to recognize beauty in the world except for me. Dorothea said something like that to me once. That I'm one of the world's last true believers. I turn, I close my fingers around her jaw. She looks surprised, her eyes dart to the editor — oh, who gives a fuck what some NPC named Joey thinks, Dorothea — and I kiss her. She's tense for a second, and then she melts into my touch, pulling me into a hug. It's… too sweet. “Khloe,” she whispers. I watch her - her blue-grey eyes, her lips pillowy with well-settled filler. “You're gonna be immortal.”

magazines are making her cray again

If she weren't such an attention whore Dorothea would've made her career on usurping Banksy. Quaint little stunts are her obsession, and how the press can still report on her renewed commitment to keeping her private life private while also doling out “juicy, exclusive revelations” from the Club Confidential meetings she hosts for fans in her literal house is an irony I'll never understand. Club Confidential is a new Dorothea tradition; she plays them the album and tells them the true stories behind the songs, and the fans go home thinking a multimillionaire trusts them with her precious secrets. It's brilliant in a prostitute kind of way. I'm at LAX flanked by my sisters and waving politely but curtly to the paparazzi. You never want to seem like you like their presence – that's slutty – but you also don't want to go too far with the annoyance. They're vindictive little shits. Kourtney is trying to whisper something to me as if I can hear her over all the shutters clicking. My sisters are my best friends the way a clingy, asthmatic pug is man's best friend. “Have you met Dorothea Rose's ‘angel boyfriend,’ Khloe?” a paparazzo shouts firstname lastname at me as if there's another Dorothea. My eyes are not rolling because I am a beacon of grace and self-control.

it's not cheating if you're not dating

Not everyone in the world is a backstabbing traitor. Jordyn is gorgeous, tall, hot and British but in a sexy racially ambiguous cocktail way, unlike Dorothea’s pasty pickup, and she’s been one of my best friends since before we both became world-famous models. She was one of the first girls I slept with after Sawyer, everyone calls us Khlordyn, and lesbian forums have for years made a diligent habit of reposting the picture where she’s holding my boobs. “We should totally make her jealous,” Jor’s eyes sparkle and I grin at her because she still completely understands me.

Tonight’s pick is one of the Harry Potter movies – a favourite of Dorothea’s that she usually refuses to reference in public because she doesn’t like acknowledging anything bigger than her and JK Rowling definitely is. I’m hoping by showing I take an interest in foreign film and culture it might help me a little with my Queen family problems.

in like two chapters i can finally start the actual plot so im excited lol

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 6: Hostage to My Feelings [AO3]

Not everyone in the world is a backstabbing traitor. Jordyn is gorgeous, tall, hot and British but in a sexy racially ambiguous cocktail way, unlike Dorothea’s pasty pickup, and she’s been one of my best friends since before we both became world-famous models. She was one of the first girls I slept with after Sawyer, everyone calls us Khlordyn, and lesbian forums have for years made a diligent habit of reposting the picture where she’s holding my boobs. “We should totally make her jealous,” Jor’s eyes sparkle and I grin at her because she still completely understands me. We’re filming the fourth episode of Movie Night with Khloe Klass and I haven’t seen her in a while so I caught her up about Dorothea, who Jordyn thinks is a pussy ass bitch for not standing up for me. She’s so right. I invited our other model friend, Freema Snare, to join too, because I’m a philanthropist. They’re both almost as pretty as me but I’m the only supermodel between us. Freema had her fifteen minutes in the spotlight when Dorothea was still associating with me, but I’m able to keep everyone’s attention even when she’s gone cold.

#kaylor #taylor swift rpf #where the armour ends #kaylor by any other name #the bitch is back <3

Where the Armour Ends

Everything was fine until the 2016 elections.

Chapter 1: Mansion With a View [AO3]

"Oh, there's your brother in law." Dorothea angles the remote at my screen like she's got half a mind to throw it. "Looks like shit." "Uh, yeah," she agrees, opting to drop it onto the carpet instead. She lowers onto her elbow then climbs back on top of me again. "Who's he wearing?" "Nobody," I snort as her stubby fingers brush my cheek. Dorothea raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug against the pillows. His wife is in Carolina Herrera, like I give any fucks about men's suits if I don't have to stand beside them. Getting it into my contract that neither I nor Sam could be made to look like Republicans was already a bitch and a half and I had to borrow Dorothea's lawyers: the less I have to think about James, the better.

This is obviously fiction, but it is based on Taylor and Karlie's relationship circa 2016 onward with some... uh, twists. Actually, everyone is OOC. The story is offensive so if you're especially vulnerable don't read it. The characters are portrayed as misogynistic, homophobic, bitchy, and manipulative. I don't endorse the actions or opinions of the characters.

new chapter!

BOYFRIEND 💖: u good? BOYFRIEND 💖: [Link] Apparently Sam thinks I don't know what The Sun will have to say about Dorothea before the articles are even written. What's he doing reading The Sun anyway? There's no reason for an all-American couple to be reading British newspapers unless we're in them. I tap on the link. Who is Dorothea Rose's boyfriend William Harkness? Blah blah, he's British, he's played in a bunch of movies no one's seen. It's not worth the cents of ad revenue we've now both thrown some foreign company. KHLOE: you're in-laws with the president's daughter. maybe pick from the ny post next time

oops i did it again

this one's a bit graphic so plz read the warning in the note

Bear Morgan — not to be confused with Barrie Morris, the record executive for Dorothea's label, or Barry Rose, Dorothea's dad — is a world-renowned entertainment manager the Sperrys put me in touch with who has managed tens of the most influential artists in the world. He also manages me. Dorothea is convinced Bear has a grudge against her because his insane client Bradey called her a bitch and put a naked model of her in his music video and Bradey’s wife, Jen Jones, made everyone think he had Dorothea's permission to do it. Obviously I don't condone Jeney’s actions. Sexual harassment and revenge porn are unforgivable affronts both to Dorothea's personal dignity and autonomy and to feminism and women's rights writ large. I think Ey's actions are despicable and I publicly apologized for modeling his sneakers. But I don't know what Bear has to do with it.

eye theory canon

Dorothea wants me to be in her album. Well, she claims PERSONA is all about me, but she wants me to really be involved. This means doing what I do best: posing for a camera. We're hovering behind her album artist as he superimposes my eye over hers. “Because only so many people really see us,” she overexplains the message, but still — it's clever, and it tells the world I'm part of her. I see what she sees. No beauty in the world matters except filtered through me. No one knows how to recognize beauty in the world except for me. Dorothea said something like that to me once. That I'm one of the world's last true believers. I turn, I close my fingers around her jaw. She looks surprised, her eyes dart to the editor — oh, who gives a fuck what some NPC named Joey thinks, Dorothea — and I kiss her. She's tense for a second, and then she melts into my touch, pulling me into a hug. It's… too sweet. “Khloe,” she whispers. I watch her - her blue-grey eyes, her lips pillowy with well-settled filler. “You're gonna be immortal.”

magazines are making her cray again

If she weren't such an attention whore Dorothea would've made her career on usurping Banksy. Quaint little stunts are her obsession, and how the press can still report on her renewed commitment to keeping her private life private while also doling out “juicy, exclusive revelations” from the Club Confidential meetings she hosts for fans in her literal house is an irony I'll never understand. Club Confidential is a new Dorothea tradition; she plays them the album and tells them the true stories behind the songs, and the fans go home thinking a multimillionaire trusts them with her precious secrets. It's brilliant in a prostitute kind of way. I'm at LAX flanked by my sisters and waving politely but curtly to the paparazzi. You never want to seem like you like their presence – that's slutty – but you also don't want to go too far with the annoyance. They're vindictive little shits. Kourtney is trying to whisper something to me as if I can hear her over all the shutters clicking. My sisters are my best friends the way a clingy, asthmatic pug is man's best friend. “Have you met Dorothea Rose's ‘angel boyfriend,’ Khloe?” a paparazzo shouts firstname lastname at me as if there's another Dorothea. My eyes are not rolling because I am a beacon of grace and self-control.

it's not cheating if you're not dating

Not everyone in the world is a backstabbing traitor. Jordyn is gorgeous, tall, hot and British but in a sexy racially ambiguous cocktail way, unlike Dorothea’s pasty pickup, and she’s been one of my best friends since before we both became world-famous models. She was one of the first girls I slept with after Sawyer, everyone calls us Khlordyn, and lesbian forums have for years made a diligent habit of reposting the picture where she’s holding my boobs. “We should totally make her jealous,” Jor’s eyes sparkle and I grin at her because she still completely understands me.

Tonight’s pick is one of the Harry Potter movies – a favourite of Dorothea’s that she usually refuses to reference in public because she doesn’t like acknowledging anything bigger than her and JK Rowling definitely is. I’m hoping by showing I take an interest in foreign film and culture it might help me a little with my Queen family problems.

it's probably too late for taylor to cover a song for you but i'm still holding out hope

#listening to this and yearning again

Raye's "Taylor Songs that are Like That" Ranking

Call It What You Want

I Know Places

Wi$h Li$t

Paris

Long Story Short

the lakes

Sweet Nothing

the new raye taylor swift canon

evermore

The Life of a Showgirl

Fearless

Speak Now

Reputation

i lied

The Life of a Showgirl

evermore

Fearless

Speak Now

Reputation

the new raye taylor swift canon

evermore

The Life of a Showgirl

Fearless

Speak Now

Reputation

#yes TLOAS dropped Reputation four albums for me #ranking her other albums is pointless it depends on my mood

Helly R. - Bullet With Butterfly Wings (short version) [Watch on YouTube]

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage

severance filled me with the powerful urge to learn video editing so behold my first (short) fan video! may make a not-quite-full-but-longer-than-this version in the future!!

tiktoks-for-dead-pope

prize i'd cheat to win @ivyindreamland - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag