#PRomance

[ladyamanda123]

Oh FFS 🤦🏼‍♀️

Everyone going gaga over the mic’d up clip…..

Guys it’s literally created and posted BY the NFL……this wasn’t some random reporter capturing a private moment…..it was an orchestrated PR performance!!

They’ve got it pinned to the top of their TikTok feed, they’ve commented on it to promote more mic’d up coverage. IT IS PR!!!!!! It is staged! It was planned! They KNOW the world is watching and listening! They’re PERFORMING!

#taylor swift #travis kelce #pr relationships #promance #mic’d up #nfl #nfl football #super bowl #kansas city chiefs #gaylor

[jennyboom21]

#did the leaker burn a hand shake deal? #haylor #stunts and shows #promance #gaylor swift #merkins and beards #gaylor swift x the sun #Swiftgron 2012

[alltoooooowell]

#i felt this #taylor swift #gaylor #travis kelce #promance

[voxina]

Do you get déjà vu?

How original... 🥱

#PRomance #pr strategy #fauxmance #pr relationship #holivia #hussell #stunt package #shared stunt wardrobe #so organic 🙄 #so embarrassing #yawn-licious #🙄🙄🙄 #🥱🥱🥱 #the script never changes #Same old shit but a different day

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Part Four

My heart jumps into the back of my throat, and I’m halfway off my stool before my brain catches up with what I’m actually seeing. In the light of the overhead lamps, the person’s hair only looks red.

Not him.

"Snacky," I stage-whisper all the same, committed now that I’m on my feet. Mau drops my befouled phone into my hand.

"Colin," Hadi says, grabbing my sleeve before I can head over. 

"The Rules?" I tap my temple.

"The Rules," she agrees, and lets me go.

As I work my way through the crowd, I try to shove away the weird flutter that even thinking I had spotted him caused. It's a stupid thought. There's no way someone like him—upright, posh, snobby—would sit and shoot the shit with the bartender for funsies. 

So why had I been excited when I thought it was him? 

People like him don’t date people like me. 

Do they?

It's just curiosity. It has to be. Because of the access, right?

It would have been the perfect excuse to finally bridge that customer-service gap. Sidle up to him, actually meet in a place where I didn't have other duties to attend to, where I could casually drop the fact that it was my birthday and I wouldn't say no to a celebratory drink.

Actually get a conversation out of him.

Yeah, right.

He never talks to me. I stopped trying to have a conversation with him over a year ago, because he'd always looked like I'd smacked him between the eyes with a wet fish whenever I tried. It seemed kinder to just let him hide behind his newspaper—an honest-to-god paper paper—and stare at me.

And he does stare.

Sometimes I think the staring is the kind you do when you appreciate the look of another person. Sometimes, I think it's some weird split-tongue thing. It's gotta be, ‘cause if he was into me, he would've said something by now, right?

The part of me that’s still a writer sometimes makes up stories about my fussy regular. Why he's here. What he's thinking about. Whether he really sleeps on a pile of gold (if that’s not a speciesist stereotype.) What the no-doubt beautiful maiden he goes home to every night thinks of his morning routine. Or if maybe he’s into something a little more me-shaped.

Oh my god, I am such a romance novel cliché right now. 

Also, dammit Colin. 

Maybe focus on the dude you are actually trying to get between the sheets?

"Hi." I slide onto the bar stool beside the guy.

He's arrogantly fashionable, dressed like he just got off shift at a bank or a law firm, swaggering without standing, if that makes sense. But he's not him. 

It's not this guys' fault he's not him.

"Hi. I couldn't help but overhear it's your birthday. Happy birthday."

"Gee, thanks." I flash him a smile. "Though I think half the bar heard, actually."

It's about half the wattage I can usually manage.

I'm tired. The long train ride, the unexpected surprise... and I remember doing this with Caden. Whom I'd met just like this, in the exactly the same place. Backwards from Caden, brain jumps to Rebekah, and how last year for my birthday we'd done one of those boat cruise dinners at Niagara Falls.

How I'd already had the ring in my pocket, and was worrying more if she'd appreciate the cliche than if she was going to say yes. I definitely should have been worried more about whether she was going to say yes.

And I just…

… I just don't wanna anymore.

"Sorry," I say, before he can offer to buy me a drink, or suggest another way for the two of us to celebrate. "I thought you were someone else. My bad."

"Wait, you don't have to--"

"Sorry for wasting your time."

I slink back to the table.

"Not into you?" Mauli asks.

"Not up for it." 

"Up for it," Mauli snickers, and I pinch them hard on the shoulder.

I leave at closing time, after a few beers too many, frustrated and manhandling Mauli into one of the cheap cabs that prowl St. Paul street for desperate fares. Dike had headed off with one of the ladies hours ago, and Hadi had bailed before I came back from the bar.

Happy birthday to me, I think morosely as I trudge home. 

Alone.

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#Coffee Sho pRomance #RomCom #Queer RomCom #Friends To Lovers #sunshine and grumpy #Secret Royalty #Fantasy #Contemporary Fantasy #Dragons #Dragon Romance #Mutual Pining #Two Halves Of A Whole Idiot #Meet Ugly #Meet Cute #Meet Awkward #Romantasy #romantasy books #romantasy booktok #romantasy reads #lgbtqa+ #queer romance #gay romance books #boys love #bi romance books #queer romance books #bisexual pride #wattpad #wattpad romance #wattpad reads #tbr

[kwyw]

So according to the interview:

- TK can't shut up about Taylor, even though she "hates" him flapping his mouth about their relationship. (I see some seeds being down.)

- Travis sells himself hard as a sweet, sensitive guy, but even his friends don't know the real him, and Taylor is still trying to figure it out. (I smell an escape strategy.)

- Scott Swift arranged all of this. Like we suspected.

- Travis was a celebrity in Kansas City and a complete nobody outside it, before the promance. Slice it any way you want - Taylor made him famous, is the message here. (Can we say C-L-O-U-T C-H-A-S-E-R? All together now, come on, kids! Spelling is fun!)

- Travis lacks direction and has no idea what to do when his football career expires. He's just throwing whatever at the wall to see what sticks. He needs money. He thinks about money a lot, while driving around town in his half a million dollar customized car. It's not at all obnoxious.

- Travis has no problem telling Taylor's security guards to step down so he can take charge and feel like the man . . . but he can't assert himself against a friend who talked smack about him on a podcast, or argue his worth to the employers who underpay him.

- He doesn't seem to understand Taylor's popularity, thinking a Hollywood reporter will need the concept of the Eras Tour explained to him. Huh? That's not being "a Swiftie" - that's proving how little attention he pays to her as an artist. It comes across like he only knows the most basic, surface level things about her career. 1989 was a smash hit, the Eras Tour is huge right now, Taylor is known for her emotionally-resonant break-up songs. Maybe his team wrote him out a little primer. Taylor 101.

- I did enjoy the comedy of Blank Space being his favorite song though. Someone somewhere is having fun with all of this.

- Everyone who falls into this man's orbit is struck by a sudden desire to write fanfiction about his relationship with Taylor Swift. It's uncanny. She's probably at his home right now! Tapping her toes impatiently while a home cooked apple pie cools on the window sill! Sure, Jan.

- Stalking Taylor's jet has gone mainstream, apparently. Major publications are just openly admitting they track it to guess where she is. So respectful. Let's just put this in a magazine for millions of readers and normalize it. Why the heck not? What could go wrong? No wonder she cut the wings off the damn jet five years ago

- Travis may be the most cornball of all Taylor's beards. "Wish on a star and you might manifest dating Taylor Swift into being!" I need someone to drag Karlie to the nearest observatory and get her wishing, stat 😂

The main takeaway: this was hilarious, and sure was illuminating 🤭

#exactly all of this #the pr of it all #gaylor swift

[awesomefringey]

so harry started dating a taylor to burry the ts stories resurfacing bc of the 1989 release and they still fuck it up and link them together fdgdhdjkskd

Harry called an entire album Harry’s House to fuck up Google search about his actual home forever. It’s not a stretch to consider that this was at least part of the reason they went with Taylor Russell, just in time for the album release of 1989 and its expected warming up of a decade old 3 months PRomance that is now part of marketing lectures at universities.

#ask #hussell

[silvyysthings]

Good for Timmy for getting the money...alas this also means more bearding and PRomances. Only downside.💀

It depends from the conditions that he has imposed 🥴

This is an achievement anon and we have to be' proud of him

💚💙💚💙

#timothée chalamet #warner bros #anon ask

[gayloringinplainsight]

oh look. Travis is making his debut as a film producer. WhO cOuLd HaVe EvEr SeEn ThAt CoMiNG?!?! 🙄🤮

PRomance is not dead or whatever tf she said

#gaylor #gaylor swift #Taylor swift

[rainbowdaisy13]

Sometimes gaylors are so childish (I'm gaylor myself)🤦they all the time are repeating how Midnights era is the worst era how they hate football era and Tayvis PRomance. What did they expect exactly? She planned Midnights era as her stunt era where she's doing high profile public PR relationship with some previously arranged man like how she did with Calvin and Tom years ago. Every era she's showing another version of herself and this era is her high profile PR relationship WAG era💆🫠 for TS11 era she'll show up with totally different version of Taylor. If wasn't Travis we would get Matty if wasn't Matty Taylor would find another beard it's all same for her. I prefer Taylor kissing someone himbo like Travis rather seeing her with Matty 😷 PS: sorry for my bad English my English is not my first language 🤗

Agree great points and never apologize for your English!! It’s always so good!

[chosetherose]

The email wasn't leaked it's been in a public lawsuit since 2008 people are bringing back now for whatever reason, probably because of how much her parents are involved in this PRomance, especially Scott, but I have never heard of it and it seems that a lot of her fans haven't either.

True. Then maybe not a leak now. But was it brought to attention for some reason? I haven’t been active outside of Kaylor tumblr so I’m not sure if it’s really making waves.

#CTRask

[ladyamanda123]

Know what I DON’T do when my boyfriend and I are long distance and he flies across the world to be with me……take him to the same tourist spot I visited the day before.

Know what I DO in a PR relationship….take my pap walk to a location my team and I are familiar with to control the exposure and the narrative.

Just saying…..

🎶 Privacy sign on the door

And on my page and on the whole world

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

#taylor swift #travis kelce #pr relationships #PRomance #smile for the camera

[jennyboom21]

#you can’t fire me I quit #stunts and shows #toe the pr stunt #promance #Taylor swift x pr team

[voxina]

La maggior parte delle faide tra celebrità, non importa quanto reali possano sembrare, sono magistralmente orchestrate dal team di Pubbliche Relazioni allo scopo fondamentale di far fare ai loro clienti più soldi e fargli guadagnare ancora più fama.

Dai battibecchi in TV (pensiamo per esempio alle " animate discussioni" tra i giudici di programmi come X Factor e simili) fino ai litigi più accesi, si tratta sempre di una delle più classiche ed elementari strategie PR. Il tutto per attirare l'attenzione del pubblico, suscitare la sua curiosità e aumentare di conseguenza il social engagement.

Il risultato? Tanta pubblicità gratuita per le celebrità in questione. E così due wannabe star di serie D diventano per qualche tempo rilevanti e finiscono per conquistare qualche titolo di giornale. Chi l'avrebbe mai detto, vero? How convenient...

Ora però mi sorge un dubbio. Adesso che Danielle ha danielled Louis, come pensano di spiegare il baby mama drama? No perché, a questo punto, sorto un dubbio ne spuntano altri.

Se Louis e Danielle non sono mai stati insieme, come ieri hanno suggerito (*confermato) diversi media , allora anche la faida tra Briana e Danielle era tutta una montatura. Stavano tutti recitando una parte e i tabloid hanno sempre mentito (sapendo di mentire). Anche questo scioccante, vero?!

#Louis has been danielled #danielled #douis #PRomance #PR marketing #stunts #pr strategy #fauxmance #pr relationship #always been fake #lounielle #celebrity feud

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Part Six

I get all of the gear flicked on, checking water levels and pulling the wands out of the sanitizer, then grind the first pot for the perc. As the espresso machine chugs its way to wakefulness, I peer into garbage cans and inspect tables. The till is all counted out neatly, with a post-it note reminding me to buy a roll of quarters stuck to the crisp purple stack of tens. 

Obviously Min-soo closed last night, ‘cause she always kills it.

In the dark kitchen, I crank the industrial oven up as high as it will go to pre-warm, scoop dough from the huge bowl Min-soo made last night onto trays, and climb the ladder to dump a burlap sack of fresh beans into the massive stainless steel bean roaster in pride of place in the corner of the kitchen. 

In my back pocket, my phone starts playing a punk version of You're the Cream in My Coffee. Shit. That's my alarm to start the second batch of scones. Dammit. I don't have time to let the oven preheat properly. I shove the tray in.

Then it’s back out to the front, where he is sitting primly in his corner, eyes on his newspaper. 

Yeah, I'm a basic bitch and prefer coffee that's more sugar and froth than bean juice, but there’s something so good about fresh-brewed black coffee first thing in the morning. That's art in its own right, my loves. I interrupt the drip machine to pour myself a mug, and I take one selfish minute to revel in a perfect sip.

But what is usually a soft symphony of my mornings is instead a self-inflicted agony. The plink of coffee into the carafe, the hiss of the espresso machine, the hum and clunk of the bean-roster in action, all punctuated by the crisp rustle of his newspaper? Agony.

A year ago, I would use this quiet time to work on my thesis. Before that, it would have been an essay, or a lab, or something else I’d procrastinated. Now, I have nothing to work on. Nothing to do but this. Nowhere to go but here. No career, no demand, no drive, just… 

Me. 

And him. 

And the stretching, hissing, clunking, dripping silence. 

 "Ugh, get your ass in gear, you embarrassment," I mutter to myself.

"Beg pardon?" he asks, voice raised politely.

Shit. 

"I said, uh, the espresso machine is warmed up. Caffe tobio?" 

"Please." He crosses his legs. There's a flash of turquoise at his ankle. I only catch it for a second, but it looks like he's wearing socks with cartoon dragons on them. Huh, okay… that’s more playful than I expected him to be. 

"Coming right up."

"I appreciate it. And you are well?" he says, which is the longest string of words I've ever heard out of him. Shame.

"Yeah." I turn to the machine, tapping out a careful twenty-seven seconds with the toe of my chucks, timing as the espresso fills the demitasse. So I'm completely in my head, and totally not expecting it when his voice comes from somewhere much too close, just over my left shoulder. 

"Oversleeping could be the sympto—" 

"Gah!" I shout, and Christ no, the wand in my hand goes flying up, up, sprinkling boiling-hot grounds like freaking pixie dust. 

He ducks and snaps the newspaper over his head as they rain down. The sharp clatter of the wand hitting the tile makes us both wince. We stare across the counter at one another, eyes wide, with what I assume are matching shocked expressions.

"Are you—" he starts again and I hold out a hand to stop him. 

"I'm fine." 

"I've never known you to—" 

"Shit, you're chatty today," Maybe that came out cattier than it should have. He flinches, stung. A glob of espresso grounds plops off his shoulder and splats on the tile floor. "Sorry, sorry! That came out wrong. I'm not… I'm not having a good morning." 

"My apologies," he murmurs mournfully, and aw, no. 

"I'll make you another one," I say quickly. "On the house. Just… sit, and I'll—" 

"Perhaps I should go." He lowers his paper and flicks grounds off the toe of his shoe. Oh, shit, are they expensive? Am I going to have to pay for, I dunno, shoe dry cleaning? 

"No, please." That lurch in my stomach again, and it's only because a morning that has started terribly (and has only gotten worse) would really become awful if he wasn’t sitting in the sunlight, glimmering and reading.

It would be just wrong.

"If you are ill, you ought to be taking care of yourself first. Don't you have a colleague who could cover—" 

"I got a new alarm clock, I didn't wake up, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter."

"It does to me." He crunches the ruined paper in his hands, flexing and twisting. "In fact, I, er, perhaps it is time I confessed that… I smell something burning." 

"You smell burning?" I swig another mouthful of coffee from the mug I'd left by the till, and take a deep breath to calm myself. Wait. "I smell it, too." 

His eyes flick to the door behind me, slit pupils dilating. "The kitchen." 

"The scones!" I squawk and spin on the spot. I slip in spilled espresso, toppling sideways. Before I can hit the ground, he lunges across the countertop, catching my arm in a grip that's stronger than I think he realizes. It also prickles. 

Trying to get my stupid feet under me, I catch the barest flash of red scale and black, long-tipped nails. Then his hand is back to perfectly pale peach, fussily manicured, and human. 

I shrug him off and push through the door. I shouldn't have gasped, that was a stupid thing to do when the air is heavy with smoke. But I do, and jerk to a stop, folding double, coughing. He runs into me. I nearly topple. That prickling grip pulls me upright again. 

"What can I do to—" he starts, but the fire alarm cuts him off.

"I forgot to turn down the goddamn oven!" 

"I'll get it." He reaches out with his free hand. It's covered in deep red scales, his fingertips ending in delicately curved claws. 

Holy crap.

He's dexterous, able to work the knob, then swing down the oven door. Black smoke, oily with burning fats, cascades into our faces. I cover my mouth and nose with the edge of my Henley, eyes burning. 

"Oven mitts!" I warn. 

"Not necessary!" He's got the tray balanced in his claws. "Where should I—?" 

And that's when the fire suppression system kicks in. 

It lets out a sharp, high whistle that startles him so badly the claws of the hand holding my arm spasm. They go right through my shirt and into flesh. 

I holler. 

Five things happen at once. 

First, he drops the tray of scones. It clatters off the tile, sending burnt pucks of dough into the air. One smacks into my leg, and two pelt him as we dance away. 

Second, he yanks his claws out of my arm, blood on the tips, and freaking hell, it stings. 

Third, white foam pours from the pipes that ring the kitchen ceiling, coating every surface in a bitter-tasting cloud. Including us.

Fourth, the guy makes a sort of gurgling belch noise, then a sharp bony click accompanied by a spark that looks exactly like the kind you get from a lighter. 

Fifth, he spits fire. 

Right into the corner. Where the giant custom bean roaster is. The drum is perforated, and the beans inside it immediately go up in flames. They're so hot they burn blue. The steel drum starts to goddamn melt.

"Coc y gath," he gasps in horror, dithering on the spot.

"Holy shit," I say, clamping my hand down over the punctures in my arm.

"I'm terribly sorry!" he shouts over the sound of the alarm and the hiss of the foam deflating around us. "I didn't mean to—I was startled!" 

The urgency of the situation suddenly hits home, fire crawling up the wall toward the ceiling, and I scream: "Put it out!" 

"What do you want me to do? Suck it back up?" he shouts back, all his cool calm evaporating in the heat of the inferno. "I'm a dragon, not a fire extinguisher!" 

Well. 

Fuck this meet-cute straight to hell, then.

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#Coffee Sho pRomance #RomCom #Queer RomCom #Friends To Lovers #sunshine and grumpy #Secret Royalty #Fantasy #Contemporary Fantasy #Dragons #Dragon Romance #Mutual Pining #Two Halves Of A Whole Idiot #Meet Ugly #Meet Cute #Meet Awkward #Romantasy #romantasy books #romantasy booktok #romantasy reads #lgbtqa+ #queer romance #gay romance books #boys love #bi romance books #queer romance books #bisexual pride #wattpad #wattpad romance #wattpad reads #tbr

[spade-riddles]

What if the pivot was necessary bc of the tiktok algorithm? It put a lot of info in front of a lot of people who would never have been involved otherwise. I found you, sr, bc of a tiktok video of some girl claiming you are Taylor lol. I didn’t even care about Taylor swift until I got involved by accident in the midnights mystery roll out drama going on on that app at the time. I maybe could name two 1989 songs. I don’t think kaylor and swiftgron and promances would be the same kind of hot goss they are now if everybody was still in their corners on tumblr and xitter, I don’t think those terms would have gotten escape velocity like they have. Maybe there is a specific video that the dandelion is referring to, that stirred things up originally to set the pivot in motion. Can you do a poll and see how many of us came from where to find you? Oh wait that won’t work since we are all anons 😂 maybe ask everyone to chime in on anon? Idk that might annoy you. 💋

(this part is a joke but let’s not forget that maybe the golden one outed the cheeto’s white collar crimes, perhaps the great wall is trying to blow their cover too soon and spoil their plans of adding an office to the lover house?)

Interesting!!! Also, this is the first I have heard that a TikToker thinks that I am Taylor. 😂