Swiftie In Evermore

𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐢, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬~ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲~𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰

Swiftie In Evermore

Box Of Chocolates

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

She wants to know his secret. He hasn’t decided what it is yet. "Everyone has a secret. And in this game, we have to tell each other the secret.” That’s what she said, anyway. Problem is Greg didn’t have one. At least, he did, but it wasn’t a secret anymore. "I peed in my mums closet," started Bethany. "I shoplifted from Sephora,” confessed Ava. "I took twenty dollars from the swear jar,” admitted Rich. Then it went on and on. Around the circle. Until it was his turn. "Come on, _Greg," _pressed Mallory. "Yeah, man. Or you eat the moldy chocolates!!” "Yes!” "Make him do it!” they chanted. “DO IT, DO IT!!” "Um…” I started. "Yessss…?” the others hounded. "You probably all know this but yesterday I was caught dumpster diving and throwing food at passerby’s by my diving coach and I will never ever go diving ever again and plus I have detention for a week for throwing a rotten banana at Coach Eissel’s face,” I blurted out. Face red, panting from the speed of saying this.

Humour

Telephone

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

The telephone box light flickered on and off, hurting my eyes. "Come on, come on, COME ON!!!" I whispered. The screen made a sad dzzzt and powered off. "URGH!!" I screamed, unable to control my temper. I always had a temper. And a tendency to do stupid things. I guess I was mad at myself. And that telephone box. I was 500 miles away from my home. All because of a train. The Parcher Express was the train taking me from Lovell City to Rikerpool. The driver had messed up, and taken me to Sidsdale. And here I was, not knowing where I was. My phone had died and I was running out of coins to put in this stupid telephone box. Everytime I put a coin in, it would make a strange sound and temporarily shut down. I was running out of coins, and my patience.

Lipstick And Daggers

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

true story <3

I love you I HATE YOU! I’ll do anything for you WHY SHOULD I HELP YOU?! You’re my best friend forever I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO LEAVE!! You’re never mean at all YOU’RE TOXIC! You make me feel happy that I’m alive YOU PUT ME DOWN AND MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I HAVE NO SELF WORTH. YOU PRETEND TO BE NICE JUST SO YOU CAN STAB ME IN THE BACK. BECAUSE OF YOU I CAN’T TELL IF SOMEONE’S FAKE OR REAL NOW. BECAUSE OF YOU I HATE MYSELF.

hate won in the end.

Poetry

23 Cornelia St

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

Delicate hanging lights Turn it off, afterglow Daylight turns into midnights

The lakes outside overflow Willow trees in backyard Over a painting of Monroe

Walking to the boulevard Ivy over the bricks Tolerate it, it’s hard

quiz: how many Taylor Swift songs can you spot?

Poetry

Fantasy

How To Change Your Life

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

Three things to change your life Pixie dust can be helpful Although rare, Although expensive, It is worth it, Shimmering with brilliant colours Azure, mauve, canary, veridian Only for the desperate. A five letter word can change your life, The word is none other Than the word ‘peace’. Peace can bring everything Happiness, luck, wealth. But the last is the most important Something you need For both of the above. And that is hope.

Poetry

Unforgiven

Swiftie In Evermore

2 min read

I ran. Tears streaming down my face, breath catching, bushes tearing at my skin. My heart was ramming against my ribcage, my mind like a tsunami with thoughts slamming into me. Desperately, I shook them away with my tears. I didn’t want to think of what I did. When I closed my eyes, I saw visions of what I did and heard echoed screams. When I opened them, I saw the endless woods, reverberating with howls and eerie patters of snow-frosted footsteps, getting closer and closer by the second. I stopped. Panting, sweat dripping, my lungs on fire and my legs stiff and as cold and hard as ice. I felt faint, almost buckling to the floor,my head spinning with terrible thoughts. Behind the tall, looming oaks, a pair of eyes stared back at me. It’s steely gaze did not match my terrified, tear-stricken expression, even after me believing that it must have been a reflection of me. But it wasn’t, of course. The first wolf stalked out of the trees, large and intimidating, teeth pulled back, snow cascading from its silver coat. I was shell shocked with horror, mouth silently moving. Trembling all over, I screamed as I scrambled back, before falling over and curling into a pathetic bundle. What was I to do, other than accept my inevitable death? By what I had done, I was sure I deserved it. I closed my eyes and began to sob. After what seemed like an eternity, I opened one eye. Surely I was dead now. But I was still in the woods, with the wolf, with the terrrible memory, with the guilt. But the wolf began to shrink back into the leaves, it’s eyes never leaving what was above me. Confused, I looked up. In a moonlit hollow, there was a hoarse breathing and a rustling. Another wolf? But it proved to be much worse. Much, much worse. “HELOISE KEIR," a voice in the wind whispered, harsh and rough. "THE GODS KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. YOU HAVE BEEN PROCLAIMED UNFORGIVEN." What did that mean? What would happen? What gods? The air around me became even colder than before, and the wind swept around my feet. Another echoed scream, just like before. Only it was mine.

Fantasy

Horror

Cat Café

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

a blanket of fur wrapped around the feline’s frame vibrating with purrs

a cozy, warm smell balmy scents floating to me snug, milky coffee

some café au lait milk foam cat for latte art tastes like a nice day

faint lofi music soft, ambient piano tinkling through my ears

cats laid on my feet ragdoll, persian and tabby hazy eyes staring.

Poetry

Who Are You?

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

I followed Ailith into the old, abandoned inn. She walked-no, _floated _into the dark, dank room with her graceful frame and jet black hair. Her footsteps were soundless-even with her black stilettos. I myself was wearing fluffy coquette boots and still had trouble muffling my footsteps. Ailith was strange. With her piercing, seemingly unblinking eyes, and her red mouth which was always locked shut, Ailith was like no girl I have ever seen. Her chest, never rising, nor falling, her gaze, which she held above everything else, and her milky, alabaster skin. My hands were slick with sweat, and my gut was twisting in that sickening way, when you have a revelation but need time to stop and think about it. But I couldn’t do that. Ailith was moving too fast and I couldn’t keep up with my padded boots and poofy, frilly dress. Ah, yes. The juxtaposition between me and Ailith was too cliché. But I continued to follow her, as I felt drawn to her in an interesting way. Trailing behind her for a few minutes, Ailith suddenly stopped. "Interesting how some people can think it’s fine to follow someone,” said a voice. With a held in gasp, I realised it was Ailith’s. I had never heard her voice before, she never spoke. But this time was different. Her voice was musical and smooth like a wisp of wind. I had never been afraid of Ailith. But now, with her back turned, and her voice steely and firm, I began to shake uncontrollably. Ailith slowly turned her head. Her eyes were now glowing red, mouth twisted into a devilish smile. I couldn’t even scream.

This is my first time writing something like this, do you guys like it?

Horror

The Red Scarf

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

note: prompt unrelated. Standing in front of a townhouse, 23 Cornelia Street. A woman, standing there an old cardigan and a vermillion scarf tied around her neck red lipstick and thirteen diamonds hung round, a golden-tressed angel holding three majestic felines, purring and trilling two Scottish folds and a ragdoll with the bluest eyes Who was she?

no seriously who is she? pweez answer in comments

Poetry

Pumpkin Spice And Cedar Wood

Swiftie In Evermore

1 min read

note: prompt unrelated. I WILL START DOING PROMPTS SOON!! The wind was a gentle breeze, rustling my hair. I pushed the knitted sleeves above my wrists, and rested my hands on the smooth, milky planks. The barista came-a young girl with cinnamon skin and a lacy beige version of a maid dress. “What would you like?” I hesitated. The creamy cinnamon frappe, or the rosy raspberry mocha? There were so many options. “I’ll have the Pumpkin Spice Latte, and a vanilla wafer roll, please,” I replied. The girl nodded, and headed off. I glanced towards the window. The fawn-brown window framed the sky, billowing with snow. My coffee and cake were brought to me. The Pumpkin Spice Latte was a milky dream, dusted with sepia. As I took a sip, I tasted the sweetness of clove, the earthiness of nutmeg and the everlasting taste of pumpkin purée. The vanilla wafer roll was crisp, layers in between of cloying vanilla cream, soft and crunchy at the same time. The buttery vanilla essence was definitely enough to warrant another visit to the Cedarwood Café.

question: what was the aesthetic colour the story was based on?

a) soft yellow b) rose beige c) brown academia d) creamy white