At approximately 8:18 PM on June 15th it was brought to my attention that noted pop songstress and multimillionaire cat lady Taylor Swift was dating fellow willowy blonde Tom Hiddleston:
Celebrity culture gives me the cringes but I have like one tiny exception because I’m a hypocrite and that exception is problematic fave Taylor Swift, whom I love unconditionally and want only the best for in this world. I would defend her honor against one and all, even if it’s my boss, even if it’s my first week of work. (Real: this happened. I’m only 20% embarrassed for myself.) I would follow Taylor Swift into battle in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. I would not, however, respect her wishes to have no one gossip about her private life, because I can only do so much. Join me in the trash, folks.
The real question on everyone’s mind: COULD THE CONSPIRACY THEORIES BE TRUE? IS IT ALL A PUBLICITY STUNT??
Bless your hearts.
I myself was not sure what to make of this, until I remembered that goofball “Loki’d” sketch Tom Hiddleston did with MTV back around the first Avengers film, and then I was like, “Oh, no, yep, this is allllll coming together now, story checks out.”
I mean also have you even seen the extensive paparazzi documentation of their PDA? I try not to seek these things out because oooo it makes me so uncomfortable–can you imagine trying to live your life like that? They got the cages, they got the boxes, etc., as the lady says. But sometimes the internet shows you things you didn’t ask for but also you’re not complaining? Like, “No I didn’t really need to know about the person who made a giant Snickers bar out of other Snickers bars but I confess it is fascinating?” “No I didn’t really need to know how to knit socks for a cat but you never know when that could come in handy, I guess.” “No, I didn’t really need to see creeper pics of Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston smooching on top of the Coliseum but goshhhhhhh….? I mean stop it. Stop it right now.” I also try not to seek these things out because tbh now that I’ve seen it, the combined glory of their mutual happiness is so radiant I cannot bear to look upon it too long for fear that, like the sun, it would burn out my retinas.
Let’s try this again!
The REAL question on everyone’s mind: in a hypothetical universe where Disney has the X-Men rights, does Tom Hiddleston have enough pull with Kevin Feige to get Taylor the starring role we all know she deserves in the Dazzler solo film we all know WE deserve?
Okay maybe asking for an entire second female-led solo movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe is dreaming TOO big.
…Can we at least get “Shake It Off” as the Avengers’ hold music to be MCU canon?
What they bond over:
- How to cultivate a commanding stage presence
- How they are both secretly giraffes that were transfigured into humans by a witch
- Faking Southern accents to become country singers
- (Have they ever sung Hank Williams tunes together? NO don’t think about it, my heart can’t take it.)
Taylor Swift lives in this absolutely bananapants world where she throws Fourth of July parties at which all her friends wear matching bathing suits and there’s a giant waterslide and Tom Hiddleston is there displaying his notably defined abdominals (cf. Cara Delevigne’s Instagram), and I just want to remind you that we live in this same world? We live in a world where these things exist, and are happening, and sometimes this world generates excerpts from like, every near-future media-industrial complex dystopian YA novel you read in middle school. For example, my favorite sentence from any article I have read about this couple *clears throat* ahem:
“Swift’s friend Martha Hunt, Victoria’s Secret model and Fourth of July party attendee, told People at a Pepsi event celebrating World Emoji Day that ‘I love that they’re both happy and free together. It’s amazing, I’m all about people being happy in love.’” — “Hiddleswift’s Friends Now Officially Allowed to Talk About Hiddleswift,” at Elle.com
The future is now, people! I can’t even. I mean, I’m all about people being happy in love, too. I’m also all about Scott Westerfeld spinning morosely in his desk chair.
An abandoned lot, somewhere in New York City. The air shimmers, and uncloaks a gleaming silver pod. It’s a spaceship, y’all. A hatch springs open, and the robot emerges, shaking out her artfully messy bob. Eyes narrowed with purpose, she swings her long legs over the side of her ship and drops to the ground.
Her target tonight: BAFTA-nominated heartthrob of nerds into men-type people Tom Hiddleston. She does not know what crime this human committed against her masters, but she does not ask. There is only The Mission. The sidewalk rings with each stride of her stiletto heels as she makes her way across the city to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Attaining the red carpet, she glares at the crowd with its flashing cameras. She makes no attempt to conceal her alien origin. These organic lifeforms are beneath her. Inside, she takes her seat and awaits Hiddleston’s arrival.
“Excuse me,” says a gentle voice with a pleasing accent. “I believe our mutual acquaintance, publishing icon Anna Wintour, wanted us seated together.”
The alien robot assassin rotates her platinum blonde head. Her target. Perfect. Coincidentally his teeth are also perfect, but this is irrelevant. He is wearing an impeccably tailored tuxedo. She smiles and awaits her best moment to strike.
Meanwhile, her target insists on conversation. He is a well-regarded actor of stage and screen with a down-to-earth personality and easy nature. He cares about animals and children. He continues to have perfect teeth. None of this accounts for her decision to let several opportunities to kill him pass, as of course she is a robot and can feel no attraction of any kind to earnest, handsome Englishmen.
She suggests that they dance, thinking this will provide an opening to stab him with the blade cunningly concealed in her left index finger. He complies, and instead she finds herself fascinated by the enthusiasm of his moves to the sweet R&B stylings of The Weeknd.
So fascinated, in fact, that a month later she has still not killed him, and, in fact, is going for a walk on the beach with him in Rhode Island.
“I think I’m in love with you,” Hiddleston confesses as they stroll beside the water. He puts his jacket around her shoulders.
“What is lah-vuh?” the robot asks. Though she does not feel the cold, she accepts the jacket
“I–I’m not sure,” he stammers. “But I think you can–you can hear it in the silence? I can’t even see anyone when you’re with me? It’s a ruthless game unless you play it, ah, well? Help me out here.”
“Oh,” she says. The robot is intrigued. The robot would like to learn more about this love. The robot will put aside her mission for another day, or perhaps ten. The opportunity to study alien behavior will only make her better at her job. This is an acceptable reason to hold the oddly soft, warm hand of this human creature, concealed finger blade retracted until further notice.
Did you ever think I would write terrible Robot Assassin AU RPF for this site?
No, me neither.
Aren’t you glad I did though?
Don’t answer that.
Y’all can keep your Met Gala meet-cutes, Rhode Island beach rambles, and Coliseum canoodling–the most romantic act of this relationship thus far is double-dating to a Selena Gomez concert with Taylor’s high school bestie.
I would like you to take this moment.
Picture Laurence Olivier Award-winning actor Tom Hiddleston not only attending the concert of a former Disney Channel child star, but allegedly dancing like a fool at said concert with his notoriously fool-like dancer gal pal.
Just take a moment. Capture it, remember it. Discover that, contrary to popular belief, Love is, in fact, Real.