#sapphic tings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sytoran · 6 months

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟏𝟐 — 𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌

kinktober day 012 | agent!peggy x lieutenant!reader

you're eating your wife out under her office desk as she speaks to - or least, attempts to speak to - her military soldiers. tinged with the angst of a classic 1940s 'forbidden' sapphic romance.

cont. office sex, fingering, edging, angst (what a combo) word count. 2065

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

“Oh, babe, m’so close,” Peggy gasps in pleasure, gripping onto the handles of her arm chair, as your fingers curl inside her pretty cunt.

“Almost there already?” you tease, mouthing at her pretty breasts and leaving light marks with your teeth. “I haven’t even been here that long, Agent Carter.”

“Enough with the Agent Car- Oh, just shut up and fuck me properly,” she responds exasperatedly, hands twisting into the navy green of your military uniform. You move your fingers in tight little circles, smirking as she throws her head back.

These forbidden little trysts that always ended up in Peggy’s office fed into every one of your desires and fantasies. As much as the element of ‘forbidden’ excited you to no end, there was always this sick little want in your mind to show Peggy off, show everyone how good you made her feel, show everyone that you were the only person who could make her feel like this.

Today is no different, the both of you in Peggy’s office. You had purposefully left the door closed but unlocked, only with the woman’s reluctant agreement. That thought in itself, that any of her soldiers could see her unravelling like this — that thought made you so, so wet.

When Peggy brings her hands up your shirt to palm at your tensed abdomen, you feel a surge of arousal, and it causes you to slam the back of her chair against her office desk with need. Peggy whines beautifully as you tower over her with purpose, hands wrapping around her pretty neck to kiss her.

You get lost in the haze of lust, only registering Peggy’s stifled moans and those pathetic whimpers, only registering her warmth and wetness clenching needily around your fingers.

“Coming!” Peggy cries out, and just as you’re about to push your fingers once more against her sweet spot, there’s a knock on the door.

“Agent Carter, it’s important,” a gruff male voice sounds from behind the door.

You halt your movements, eyes locking with the brunette, fingers stilling themselves inside her cunt.

You don’t miss the way Peggy’s eyes dart to the door in fear, her breath hitching, but her hips still trying to chase that pleasure.

It excites you.

“You have to go,” Peggy squirms under your grasp that holds her still. “We can’t be seen-”

“You want me to jump out the window of the sixth floor?” you ask seriously, helping to button up her blouse. She looks so pretty, with her face flushed and her lipstick smeared. You swipe a thumb along the bottom of her lip to clean it up, and Peggy looks at you pleadingly.

“Agent Carter, it’s the 107th Infantry Regiment here to see you.”

With a determined huff, Peggy lifts up a leg and promptly kicks you under her desk, the heel getting you in the side. “Come in,” she says loudly, glaring at you as your face screws up in pain.

Eyes narrowing at her brattiness, you reach up from under the desk and pull off the entirety of Peggy’s grey skirt in one fluid motion just as the door swings open, leaving her completely bare and vulnerable from the waist down. Her panties were still in your pocket, saved for further use.

Peggy lets out a strangled sound of frustration mixed with pleasure as she rolls her armchair into place, hiding her nudity from view of the entering soldiers. This means that you’re face-level with her bare, glistening cunt, and it doesn’t take a genius to find out what you’d do with that.

“Agent,” the soldiers chorus as you make yourself comfortable under the table. You’re seated cross-legged, gripping at Peggy’s thighs, mouth dangerously close to her throbbing cunt.

“R-Right, this better be important,” Peggy begins, clearing her throat and trying to regain her composure. Her hands are clammy, nails digging into her palms in an attempt to calm her growing arousal.

Your hot breath is on her wetness, unbelievably simulating, and your presence under her desk while her soldiers were in the same room was electrifying.

“It is,” that same gruff voice sounds, and you recognize it as Bucky Barnes. He was a bit too arrogant for your liking, and you detested the way he looked at Peggy sometimes.

She was yours.

Your hands slide up the length of Peggy’s bare legs, dragging goosebumps along with the gentle touch, then grabbing fistfuls of the sides of her ass.

Peggy jerks in her seat, and you can imagine her sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

“Is something the matter, ma’am?” another voice asks. It’s Steve Rogers, Mr. Captain America. You feel another round of jealousy coursing through your bloodstream. It was no secret around camp that he had a puppy love for your lady.

You wrap your bulky, muscled arms around her big thighs, forcefully prying them apart as your tongue pushes into the slit of her leaking pussy. Peggy was already sensitive from before, and the sensation of your long tongue entering her cunt made Peggy let out a disguised moan.

“I- oh, I- I think that I’m just a bit unwell today,” the agent says with a quavering voice, forcing a polite smile onto her face in an attempt to hide the pleasured expression that fights its way there.

“Sorry to hear that, Agent Carter,” Steve offers sympathetically. “We’ll make this quick. We've got new intel on the Red Skull and we think he's a more dangerous threat than we initially envisioned."

When you start dragging your tongue up and down in long stripes, teasing at Peggy’s entrance but not truly letting her experience a high, she knows that her squelching sounds would be embarrassingly loud if she didn’t do something.

Peggy reaches for the remote and turns up the Stark-sponsored fan to its highest setting. The loud whirring sound creates more noise, and you gladly take the opportunity to dive into her cunt, tongue lapping fervently at the wet heat like you were worshipping a sacred temple.

“I’m just – oh, Christ – have a – mhm, bit of a fever going,” Peggy says brokenly, fanning at herself with an awkward chuckle. She’s screaming internally, your mouth buried in her pussy like you would nest in there forever.

"Right,” Bucky says with a raised eyebrow. “So we thought we might need more backup before our infiltration into the HYDRA base. The senior-rank soldiers, Agent Carter, if you could allow us that permission."

Peggy nods, the words going in one ear and flying out the other. Your fingers are in action now, as well,

"We know that it's a last-minute change,” another soldier says, and Peggy looks in his general direction but she can’t even focus on how he looks like to recognise him. Her vision is swimming, her thoughts are dizzying.

The centre of her universe was you.

She was so close. So, so close.

But you leave her hanging there, at the edge of a precipice, between inexplicable pleasure and unrecoverable shame.

Peggy almost sobs.

"Changes like that have to be made in the face of all possible scenarios,” Peggy says, clamping her thighs around your head. It helps fractionally with the overwhelming arousal, and the agent desperately seizes that small chance. “I appreciate you all coming to me with this information. It should take a bit of paperwork to settle but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Agent Carter,” Steve says sincerely, and you roll your eyes under the desk at the stupid smile you can hear in his voice. She was yours. You push your fingers in a little deeper.

Fuck, Peggy needs it. Needs to release all that pent-up arousal.

"Oh, Agent Carter, have you seen Lieutenant L/N? We want to ask her about the added arms and ammunition," you hear Bucky ask, and you almost snort into Peggy’s dripping cunt.

"No, I don't suppose I've seen her around,” Peggy forces out, trying to subtly grind her hips against your face. She’s that desperate, that needy for the pleasure you’re dangling in front of her.

You’d been edging her, controlling her pleasure like you were a puppeteer and she was your marionette.

She needs it. She needs it or she’s going to die.

"Is that all?"

“Yes, Ma’am,” Bucky answers, and following his lead are the rest of the soldiers who leave Peggy’s office in an orderly manner.

Your two fingers curl in the glory of her dampened cunt, tongue still lapping at the flowing nectar that tastes like honey to your lips.

Finally, Peggy cries internally. Finally, she can get her sought-after release—

"Peggy," Steve begins desperately, putting his hands on the edge of the desk you’re sitting under. He’d hung around while the others had filed out, clearly wanting to speak to the agent.

Oh, fuck no.

Peggy wants to cry in frustration at her prolonged denial of pleasure, and you fume in deadly silence. How dare he address her by her first name, with more fondness than a close friend. How dare he think he’s good enough for your Peggy–

"About that dance I asked you to-" Steve continues, none the wiser to the raging conflict going on beneath the surface.

Your fingers thrust deep into Peggy’s sweet spot, and a lewd squelch sounds, and it takes everything in her willpower not to cry out your name. Steve is too flustered to notice, and Peggy thanks the heavens for his oblivious nature.

"I'm not–, in- oh, interested, Rogers. Exit my office now.”

By the grace of some God, Steve takes ‘no’ as an answer. The dejected man hangs his head, turning around in resolution. Peggy’s vision is blurring, not because she feels for Rogers, but because the amount of pleasure you’re filling her to the brim with.

She can feel you, gripping the flesh of her thighs and leaving dark fingerprints, your tongue ever so languidly tracing the outline of her dripping hole, just waiting for the opportune moment like a predator about to pounce on its prey.

The door’s barely clicked shut before you’re making the most carnal noises into Peggy’s cunt, tongue diving deeper than what she thought was physically possible. “Oh, mhmm, fuck!” she cries, head thrown back as she weaves her fingers into your hair.

“You have no idea,” you growl, throwing both of Peggy’s legs over your shoulders to give you better access. “No fuckin’ idea how much I wanted to make you cum in front of that good-for-nothin’. Make him see you become such a fucking slut for me.”

Peggy mewls, practically humping your face, so insanely desperate for you to make her feel good. She can’t differentiate your rough hands or your long tongue, stimulating her across her whole body, like a raging fire has been ignited and it can’t be doused.

“Please,” Peggy pants, one of her hands going to grip the top of her armchair, trying to reach a semblance of non-existent control. “Oh,” she moans, husky and low, when your nose bumps against her enlarged clit. You proceed to do it repeatedly, and Peggy’s frighteningly close to passing out from sheer pleasure.

“Say you’re mine,” you whisper, almost unheard.

Peggy hears the desperation in your voice. Like she’s not the only one who’d die without your touch. Like she’s more than just a simple game of cat-and-mouse. Like you’re not the forsaken lovers who’ll go down in the history books as ‘best friends’.

Like the two of you could ever be something more.

But it doesn’t matter, not now when she’s crying for your touch, and not ever.

“I’m yours,” Peggy answers, with more resolution in her voice than any military call, with more steadfastness in her voice than she would ever care to admit. It’s a promise, a sacred one, and with that the two of you were bound.

All it takes is a harsh curl of your fingers into Peggy’s sweet spot that has her coming undone, ropes and seals unwinding for the maker that is you.

Wave after wave of pleasure rolls over Peggy’s body, white-hot liquid making its way into the crooks and crevices of your face Peggy found her religion in.

The look that passes between the two of you as Peggy finally topples over the ledge is unsaid. It doesn’t need to be said. It can’t be said.

I’m with you till the end of the line.

"in the crooks of your body, i find my religon." -sappho

how was the characterization of peggy? it's my first time writing for her, and it was pretty interesting as compared to writing for natasha and wanda. i mean, peggy's speech is generally more refined, and i would think she would be more prudish about sex in general. (my personal opinion, i've never watched her series)

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

#sytoran's kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #peggy carter x reader #marvel smut #gxg smut #wlw smut #peggy carter x reader smut #peggy carter #the winter soldier #top reader #dom reader #1940s

917 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 2 months

Text

Raspberry Lips

Elain x reader

a/n: sapphic playlist to read along to, if you’d like 🧡💛

word count: 896

The sun shimmers atop the rippled surface of the Sidra, glittering gold undulating between soft pinks and peachy oranges, mixing with the aquamarine blue of the painted houses and the warm magentas from storefronts below. The two of you remain quiet as you take in the wonderful vista from atop the small balcony, held up on oxidised copper, pale blue and a little patchy in places but tinged with an almost mossy green, artfully curved into bars that swirl and wrap around to form a railing.

Her sundress flutters in the late evening breeze, the floppy straw hat she’d chosen sitting pretty atop her gently curled hair, forming soft ringlets of golden brown, like the tops to the perfectly baked goods she makes. Small wildflowers are tucked behind her elegantly pointed ears, left over from your lunch in her carefully cultivated garden—picking a few of the unplanned but not unwelcome flora that had cropped up in the grass.

She opens up the wicker basket, pulling out something swaddled in pale cream cloth, setting it down between you, carefully revealing the contents to be two slices of pie. The pastry looks perfectly flakey and crisp, with powdered sugar dusting its surface, sun-dried raspberries lining the circumference. The cross-sections appear a mix between a spongey and custard-like texture, rhubarb baked into the main body of the pie.

“I made this yesterday,” Elain pipes up, raising a slice from the fabric, perching it upon her dainty fingertips, offering it up. Your heart flutters a little as it usually does around her, your lips helplessly curving into a smile as you lean forward across the chequered picnic blanket. It’s easy to bite into, teeth and tongue able to effortlessly pry it apart with little effort, slightly crumbly on top but soft and plaint in your mouth.

You hum, hand coming to cover your mouth as you chew, pulling back a little, swallowing. The setting sun sparkles in her cocoa eyes, like melted chocolate that swirls as it sinks into gently simmering milk. Rosey lips soften, curving to reflect your own as matching grins broaden your mouths.

“You like it?” She asks through her laugh, eyes crinkling as her cheeks warm with an apricot flush, rounding as the corners of her mouth lift upward, smiling with her slightly uneven teeth. It has your own smile broadening, eyes gleaming with affection as you manage a nod. “It’s perfect,” you reply through your smile, meeting her twinkling gaze. “Just like you,” you murmur, vaguely aware of how her hands have lowered the slice, making room for the two of your to gravitate toward one another.

Her lids lower a little, lashes obscuring some of the fascinating colours of her irises, but then her head is tilting a little, and you’re only a few inches apart.

Your lips tingle with heat as they settle against hers, soft and plush, and you’re almost certain some powdered sugar has gotten between you. Maybe she’s just that sweet.

Your hand raises, cupping her jaw as you kiss her, feeling how she pushes against your touch, mouth slanting against your own as she copies your movement, her thumb brushing the crest of your cheek, middle and forefinger tucked behind your ear. Lips stretch out, smiles playing on soft, sugared mouths as you pull away, keeping close.

Elain blinks, smile fading a little before widening into a sunshine-filled grin that has your heart aching, throat tightening.

“What?” You ask, voice lilting with laughter at her smile. “You’ve got sugar on your cheek,” she whispers over your mouth, thumb stroking over the area. The two of you crane together, mirth ringing between you as your stomach flutters.

“I should’ve known that’d happen,” you mumble, fingers gently wrapping around her wrist to ply it away. Her laughter is still prominent as you swipe the tip of your tongue over the pads of her digits, removing the sweet powder she’d so carefully dusted the pastry with. “That tickles,” she laughs softly, watching as you move to her thumb, sliding it over your lower lip as she presses down a little.

Her flush deepens as you press a soft kiss over her skin, observing with a quiet heat that has your skin warming.

“I love your hands,” you murmur into her palm, raising it higher until her fingertips could brush your brows, nosing at her skin. “They’re so clever.” Her flush deepens, neither of you really able to look away. “So good at making things,” you mumble into her palm, feeling the slight roughness that’s begun to surface from the incessant pruning of the plants in her garden.

“I like yours more,” she says breathlessly, leaning closer again, making your eyes twinkle as she pulls away, cupping your jaw. “Why’s that?” You reply, so eager to press your mouth to hers again. To feel them. To taste them. Taste her.

“You’re so gentle with them,” she answers, feeling as her words take shape on your lips, so, so, close. “I love it.”

Your mouths push together, slow, soft motions echoing between you, lips parting to feel the other, flicking gently—as she’d wanted. Elain makes a small noise, breathy and hot as she applies more pressure, opening a little wider, food forgotten as a new appetite is stirred within her.

Stirred within both of you.

Soft and sweet.

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644

#elain x reader #elain x f! reader #elain archeron #elain fic #elain fluff #x f!reader

63 notes · View notes

dotster001 · 11 months

Text

Happy

Summary:Yan! Diavolo x gn!reader. Diavolo reflects on your relationship.

A/N: I'm not a huge fan of nightbringer, but it's allowed me to get lots of inspiration, so that I can feed my Obey me followers 😂

CW: general Yan! Stuff. Nothing really happens, but there's a lot of implications of past yandere occurrences

He was the most powerful creature in all three realms. He could have anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers, no matter what or who it inconvenienced.

And now, he had you. The one thing in all the realms that he yearned for above all others. The one thing he was willing to risk all his principles, all his dreams for.

So why wasn't he happy?

Everyday, he would wake up in the morning to you in his arms. He would receive a kiss on the cheek, and a sleepy, "Good morning, My Lord." Then he would dress for the day, and dress you in the finest clothes the Devildom had to offer, before promising he'd be good and do his work.

And if he was good, like today, you would bring him his lunch at noon, give him another kiss on the cheek, and sit with him while he ate.

So why wasn't he happy?

Perhaps it was the way the light no longer showed in your eyes when you looked at him.

Perhaps it was the way every smile seemed strained, and every kiss seemed cold and rehearsed.

Perhaps it was the way you quickly left the moment he said you were free to go.

"Is there anything else you need, my Lord?"

My Lord. It was never "Dia" anymore. Nor was it "my love." Neither was it "Diavolo". It was simply "My Lord".

He hated it.

Lately he'd found himself just staring at you, wondering what he could have done differently.

"Is there anything else you need, my Lord?" You asked again, a tinge of impatience entering your voice.

"Yes. Your love," he said.

Your eyes widened, before you heaved a heavy sigh and sat back in your chair.

You buried your face in your hands for a moment, before looking back at him, and squaring your shoulders.

"You already had it."

It felt like you'd just stabbed him in the gut. He should correct your behavior. He should teach you how to address him properly. For that's what his station demanded of him.

But he knew you were right.

So, instead he just stared, and swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. He stood up, and cupped your small, fragile, human face, in his large, strong demonic hand. You didn't flinch like you used to, but you also didn't react. You just looked at him with empty eyes.

He sighed and pulled away, sitting down and getting his paperwork ready.

"You may go. I'll see you at dinner."

You bowed deeply, and left without another word.

He used to be happy.

You used to be happy.

....

Tag list- @leonia0 @eccedentesiast-sapphic @your-next-daydream

#yandere obey me #obey me #obey me x reader #yandere obey me x reader #diavolo #om! diavolo #diavolo x reader #yan! diavolo x reader #yan! diavolo

246 notes · View notes

starryrain · 3 months

Text

a long night

a cute little fic i wrote today! it is set like a year after s2 of good omens and you can read it just under the cut !! both of them are male presenting in this, but i might write a fem one because i am a sucker for sapphic stuff.

let me know if you want a part 2 !!

description: aziraphale and crowley aren't talking, but they decide to meet one final time.

Crowley looked out of the window of the Bentley, their glasses slung low. He turned his head, the phone in his palm buzzing absurdly. With a clench of his jaw, he flung it into the backseat, where it undoubtedly hit one of his new plants.

“Sorry, darlings,” he said, patting a leaf. “But that’s what happens when leaves go the slightest tinge of yellow.” He sighed, slamming his foot down on the accelerator. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t care.

A chirpy, familiar voice rang through the speakers of the phone. “I don’t have leaves, Crowley. And I’m a singular being!”

A skid of tyres against asphalt. A chain of hastily muttered curses. And the scramble into the backseat to retrieve his phone.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” He yelled into the phone. “I don’t talk to…to-”

“What? Your friends?” Aziraphale’s voice was soft, and Crowley hated himself for having missed it.

No. No. You did not miss a thing. You do not miss that cowardly bastard.

“You are not my friend. I don’t have friends. I despise you.”

A soft laugh and a twinge struck the heart that Crowley didn’t have. “So you’ll talk to your plants, but not me?”

He hung up the phone with no words, only a sigh, resting his hands on his temples. Flipping off the cars that were honking behind him through the window, he set his foot onto the pedal, heading for his flat, where he would put his new plant, and then drink copious amounts of alcohol. Whisky, preferably. Crowley likes whisky. Aziraphale hated whisky and had always complained about the sharp-

NO! No thinking of that useless slop! He bit down on his tongue, driving faster and skidding as he parked the Bentley in front of his flat.

The door flew open with a flick of his hand, and Crowley walked through the hallway, his new plant in hand. Setting them down, Crowley flung himself onto his chair, taking his glasses off before leaning his head back and closing his eyes, before opening them again to find one of his bottles of Talisker.

The Talisker was smooth and everything that Crowley needed. Before he knew it, night had begun to drape its’ sleepy embrace over London. And if he could see the stars, Crowley would’ve laid back on the roof of his flat, watching his creations dull out with the light pollution of the city. It was a punishment of the highest cruelty, but he had accepted it long ago. Running a hand through his crimson hair, Crowley cradled the half-empty bottle, his peace undisturbed.

Well, his peace was undisturbed until the answering machine rang. He frowned, letting the caller talk.

“Crowley! You answered!” Crowley shot up in his chair at the sound of hearing the angel’s voice for the second time that day.

“No! I am not talking to you!” He went to hang up, but he tripped on the chair, hitting his head on the edge of his desk. “Fuck!”

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Shut up!”

Crowley could practically hear Aziraphale’s eyebrows raising. “Very well.” He sighed and gritted his teeth.

“Why are you calling, Angel?”

A pause. Silence that Crowley hated. “It’s been a while since one of our dinners. I thought we could go somewhere and eat. The Ritz-”

“Things have changed,” choked Crowley. “It’s like you said, nothing lasts forever.”

A sigh came from the answering machine. “Just one last time? Then I’ll never talk to you again.”

What was once a threat, now an offer. How the tables turned. Though it still felt like a threat.

Crowley sighed. “Just this one time. And then we’ll never see each other again.”

“Done.”

Aziraphale paced around the bookshop, ignoring the concerned look that Muriel was giving him.

“You haven’t actually sold any books, have you?” He asked, frowning.

Muriel shook their head with a smile. “Of course not! Crowley comes in every week to check in, too! We’ve decided to keep it open one day a week and close the rest! And nobody even cares!” They let out a laugh. “Humans are so interesting!

Aziraphale continued pacing, adjusting his bowtie. The last time. It’s the last time. And then we’ll never talk again. That’s good, right?

The door swung open, and a bell rang. “We’re closed-!”

“I know, Angel,” remarked Crowley dryly, and Aziraphale spun on his heel, finding Crowley at the door, leaning against the frame, in an all black double-breasted suit that looked oddly similar to the one that he wore on their 1941 escapade.

And Aziraphale was back in the same spot as a year ago, and the ghost of Crowley’s pressed his lips on his. It ran a shudder down his spine. Shaking himself out of the memory, Aziraphale smiled at Crowley, locking the shop up and sitting in the Bentley for a second before Crowley flashed a grim smile at him and slammed his foot down on the pedal.

The Ritz twinkled with many lights, and as they passed through the building, Crowley settled into the familiar feeling of being with Aziraphale. They sat themselves at a miraculously empty table, ordering quietly and waiting for their food to arrive. In the meantime, Crowley popped open a bottle of champagne that he had swiped from someone else’s table, gave himself a generous serving of the drink, and then poured the same into Aziraphale’s glass, ignoring his bright smile.

Bless him and his smiles, scorned Crowley. Stupid, pretty angel.

“For the record, this doesn’t mean I like you,” he said, sipping on his champagne.

Aziraphale shrugged. “Nor do I. The feeling is mutual.”

“Very mutual. But I don’t like you more than you don’t like me.”

Aziraphale frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.” He sipped his own drink, eyeing Crowley carefully.

FUCK.

“So, what’s new?” He asked, setting down his glass and slouching further in his chair. “Y’know, in Heaven. Because you went there. And left me.” He smirked, drinking some more champagne and saying nothing, only making a bemused expression at Aziraphale’s face.

“Well, doesn’t the food look lovely?” grinned Aziraphale as his plate was set on the table. Crowley rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

Aziraphale and Crowley were both terribly, horribly full. And awkward. The drive back to the bookshop was quiet between the two of them; the air was heavy with tension. Crowley had played on Aziraphale’s feelings, and he seemed actually regretful about his actions. Aziraphale couldn’t do much; he could only eat his food and drink the alcohol. So he settled for looking at Crowley the entire night.

Crowley noticed, of course. He noticed anything Aziraphale did.

It wasn’t hard; he looked fantastic. Of course, Aziraphale wouldn’t admit that out loud. Well, he would, with the right amount of alcohol and coercion. But Crowley didn’t really feel like coercing his… whatever Aziraphale and he were into admitting that he looked fantastic.

He parked a block away from the bookshop, a habit that he had clearly not forgotten. In comfortable silence, they walked inside and settled on chairs. Crowley’s chair crinkled with a sound of paper, and he realised that it was because he was sitting on a note. Standing up and tossing his glasses aside, he read the note aloud:

Mr. Sir Aziraphale,

I am out for a walk to go communicate with the funny humans down the road. They said I can stay ‘for the night’, so I am going to do that, whatever it is. Mr. ‘I’m Not Nice’ Crowley knows what I mean. I think. Thank you!!!

-Muriel :)

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Mr. Sir Aziraphale?” He laughed, putting the note away.

Aziraphale shook his head. “Mr. ‘I’m Not Nice’?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Aziraphale smiled that fucking smile. That. Fucking. Smile. And the fact that, from the angle he was at, it looked like he was kneeling-

Crowley looked away, giving himself a moment to regain composure. “Why did you leave, Angel?”

Aziraphale’s smile dropped. “Why didn’t you stay, Angel? I…I needed you!” He choked out, blinking hard.

Crowley shook his head, clearing his throat. “And yet, you still have nothing to say.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Crowley scoffed. “Yes, you bloody did!”

Aziraphale stood up, his hands trembling. “No. Look at me, Crowley.” Crowley, against his will, looked at Aziraphale. “I. Didn’t. Have. A. Choice.”

“You still left,” sulked Crowley. Aziraphale threw his hands up, scoffing.

“What are you scoffing for? I have a genuine issue, and you’re all, ‘Oh, it’s not my fault’, like that’s going to help!”

Crowley was frowning now, his hands on his hips as he ranted. Aziraphale had turned around, pressing his hands to his temples.

“And you’re all wishy-washy and nice, and-”

Crowley stopped talking. Because Aziraphale was holding his head in his hands. And he was kissing him. And Crowley was kissing him back.

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Aziraphale whispered, his breath tickling Crowley, before kissing him again.

Crowley pulled back, his chest heaving with heavy and rapid breaths. Clenching his jaw, he pushed a confused-looking Aziraphale back onto his chair, cradling the angel’s jaw.

“I still don’t like you,” he whispered. "But... there are some things I need to do,” he said, before clambering on top of Aziraphale.

Oh, it was going to be a long night.

#anthony j crowley #aziraphale #crowley #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic rec #good omens fic #good omens angst #good omens possible smut

48 notes · View notes

goldenempyrean · 1 year

Text

Empyrean’s Advent: Day 10

Prompt: “Let me look after you.”

Pairing: WandaNat x R (Sick Wanda)

Wordcount: 642

< Previous || Next >

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

“Wanda, just let me look after you.” You groaned, following your feverish woman as she stumbled around your apartment for the 4th time that evening, “You have to lie back down sweetheart.”

“Noooo.” She whined, fighting to keep her drooping eyes open as clumsily sat herself down on the sofa, “Don't need to- we gotta get Nat.”

“Nat's away right now, she's on her way home. We’ve had this conversation earlier.” With an annoyed sigh, you sat beside her and clasped your hand over her burning forehead, “You’re hotter than before.” You worriedly mutter, cracking your knuckles nervously.

“I want Natasha.” She whined again, and your heart sink with pity, “Where- where’s Natty.”

“Nat's not here baby, she's on her mission. She’ll be home soon, okay? We need to get you back in bed though, you’re burning up again.”

Wanda sniffled damply and scrubbed the back of wrist against her nose, and you grimaced at the sheen it left on her skin.

“Wanda if you weren't so out of it, you’d see how gross that was.” You shook your head, finding the irony in the situation. Usually, Wanda was the cleanest and most hygienic of you all.

“‘Mm’ don’t care.” She mumbled but still she stayed still when you took a tissue and wiped her red-tinged nose.

Everything was calm for a minute, giving you the impression that Wanda had finally ran out of energy, but she was soon standing up, swaying in place as you supressed a very-irritated groan. You definitely owed God an apology for the string of curses that you were mentally screaming at the time...

“I gotta go find Nat.” She stumbled, walking into the edge of the sofa, she would’ve tripped over it entirely if it hadn’t had been for your insanely fast reaction. Holding her, Wanda looked around anxiously and it was only as looked upon her confused feverish expression felt your gaze soften slightly. She really was out of it.

“Baby cmon’. Nat isn’t here, shes on her way home, we spoke to her on the phone earlier remember?” You sighed as you practically forced Wanda to sit back down on the sofa only to grit your teeth in fustration when she stood up again a moment later.

“No…. We need to go get her-.”

“Wanda, God help you if you don’t stay still. You have a fever. Sit. Your. Ass. Down.” You growled, finally letting some of your irritation slip out. You hadn't meant to snap but, in that moment, it was the only thing you were able to do.

“But-“ Wanda began but was interrupted but a different voice this time, a voice you both instantly recognised.

“I’d listen if I were you.”

You both look behind you to see Nat stood in the doorway still dressed in her Black-Widow suit, a large back slumped over her shoulder.

“Oh, thank god.” You sighed in relief as Wanda rushed over to Nat and practiced collapsed into her arms, the fire fuelling her seemingly endless energy finally flickering out and diminishing, “Can we finally get you to lie down now?”

Nat chuckled and held Wanda, taking her into her arms, “Y/N’s right, you need to lie down baby, you’ve been giving Y/N a hard time, hm?” She cooed, as Wanda clutched to her chest.

“I didn’t mean too.” Wanda whispered as she allowed Nat to pick her up.

“It's okay Wands, I know.” You her an understanding look before her let her head rest against Nat’s shoulder.

“We should get you both to bed, you’re both exhausted.” Nat added, seeing just how worn out you were, she came towards you and wrapped her hand around your shoulders, still managing to support Wanda with only one arm. She hummed and pressed a kiss to both of your heads “It's my turn to look after you now.”

✧*̥˚ Taglist! *̥˚✧ @somber-sapphic @lyak12 @natashamyl0ve @scrambled-brain-eggs @ceiestiaie @santana1437 @lovethewhumps @likefirenrain

268 notes · View notes

cobaltsoulsearcher · 3 months

Text

Role Model Farishta Bandi

Fannish February Day 3. Prompt - A character who deserves more love from @thepromptfoundry

This might seem like an odd choice to discuss, since I’ve yet to hear anyone actively dislike Freddie, but I still feel like she doesn’t get all of the credit she deserves.

Why?

She’s not just an incredible best friend, beautiful nerd, and lovely romance option.

She’s an amazing role model. And here is why.

(Spoilers below the cut)

First of all, I feel like as a romanceable character, Freddie is almost always considered solely with that in mind, or in comparison to folk’s romance option of choice. When she isn’t, that part of her is stripped away entirely for (most often) a 2D characterization of a perfect friend. While I understand why, intellectually, I also feel like this does her a disservice because a good part of her growth is related, not to the romance, but how she interacts with the mechanic as a whole.

After Grace brings Freddie back from the dead, whether or not she is chosen as a romance option, she admits that her one-sided obsession with Grace was not healthy. I think this is unique from a character growth perspective because from the outside, she didn’t do anything wrong. Her obsession did not harm Grace or endanger anyone, unlike the errors of other characters; what harm she did herself is plausibly deniable, since she is still incredibly close to Grace afterwards. She does not abandon Grace’s friendship, she sets boundaries with herself in regards to it.

I don’t think I have to say how incredibly rare it is for a character to have to heal their relationship to someone without giving up on said relationship, or to improve themself without first causing harm when there was not an external prerogative.

For one clear example, I think it important to point out the difference between the reconciliation of Freddie and Grace before and after this realization.

If Grace apologizes for dragging Freddie in to this , causing drama, or choosing Pan (a situation where Freddie was absolutely in the right to have caution, even if she was a tinge angry) or to go alone over Freddie, Freddie has none of it, forgiving Grace immediately and voiding her of responsibility.

The confrontation after Grace brings her back is different. She admits to not being okay, rather than pulling her feelings back to be a good best friend like earlier; she holds her ground if Grace tries to smooth thing over or offer empty reassurance. And she stands by Grace at the trial anyways.

This is something I think this is incredibly important to see, and only more so given that Freddie is a sapphic woman of color, where women are after taught to prioritize others, and women of color especially so. Likewise, it is especially important, whether or not you romance her, to see this while she is in love with Grace. We are taught that infatuation and placing yourself second is natural and expected when you have a romantic interest in someone, and generally the “protecting yourself first arc” is only given to characters who have already been led into abusive or toxic relationships, or at minimum after a rough breakup. Seeing this happen without this, not as a prerequisite as moving on, but as a character taking stock of herself while still holding romantic interest, is incredibly valuable.

#stray gods #farishta bandi #fannish february #character study #analysis #stray gods Freddie #stray gods analysis

13 notes · View notes

lucy-the-cat · 4 months

Text

Sapphic Mareven (Holiday Exchange)

Unfinished, but I tried

For @martianmaestro

Roses.

Dancing.

Kisses on the cheek.

They still played in Mare’s mind even after she was imprisoned. Even after Maven’s eyes had grown cold, forcing Mare to kneel to the hem of her gown and kiss her shoe. A vengeance then, for the mother she killed. A vengeance faded, now that she was hers.

Hers.

The word sent shivers down her spine. How she longed to be so, when they were engaged. How she thought they were destined, two stars in the sky, the only one who understood what needed to be done. Dust now, all of it. Dust that should’ve been blown in the wind.

She still remembered Maven’s words on the balcony, how she’d touched her cheek and kissed it despite the makeup tinting her lips. I’ll never let go, no matter what. Not even if they find us, not even if they kill us, not even if they rip us apart, limb by bleeding limb. I will always find you, Mare. I will never leave your side.

A rose had slid behind her ear. Blood had trickled from the thorns. Maven had touched it, smearing her fingers. The same fingers that then touched her lips. I like it better, when you bleed.

Her breath had hitched. I do too.

Their first kiss had tasted of iron, the tinge of blood growing as Maven too, pricked her finger. Silver and Red, pain made passion, the divide between them healing with each brush of tongue. Mare almost bit her. Not like she would’ve protested.

There would be no dancing, not anymore. Maven wouldn’t show her face to her. Their love was always meant to die. If Mare didn’t murder it, Maven would.

But her heart faltered when she returned from the gardens to find a familiar face in her sheets. Maven had curled beneath the blanket, her waves fanning across the pillow. Crystal eyes fluttered, lined with soft lashes. For a moment, Mare was lost in them.

Then she smiled.

The same smile she’d had as Mare knelt before her. The same smile she’d had as the shoe touched her lips. The same smile she always had, a gentle perfection of the mask she wore at all times. She was fake as her promises, fake as her virtue, fake as the feelings Mare once had for her.

“I was borrowing your bed, if you don’t mind.” She yawned. “And you don’t mind, right?”

Mare lunged at her, but she rolled out of the way. Her hand lazed in her hair. “It seems you do.”

“Get out.”

“No.” She drew the blanket over her head. “I don’t think so.”

All her limbs seized at once, her lungs burning as her manacles refused to melt off. Maven could take them off, if she wanted to, as she could’ve so long ago.

Mare sat at the foot of the bed. “Why are you here?”

Maven grunted. “My bed was giving me nightmares.”

“You can’t dream.”

“It’s a metaphor, Mare.” She lolled her head. “We all dream when we’re awake. And I have more nightmares than most.”

“You deserve them.”

“I suppose.” Her lashes wobbled, and Mare almost took it back. Would’ve, were it not for the truth lying beneath them. “You would know, after all.”

“I do.”

She smiled. “Words for a wedding.”

Mare yanked the blanket, teeth gnashed. Maven huffed, shielding her eyes before reaching for her flamemakers. “Careful, Mare. It only takes a spark for things to burn.”

That's as far as I got. I also wrote the line "I was thinking of making you a consort." but never had the attention span to connect it. Maybe I'll finish this one day.

#red queen #maven calore #maven #mare barrow #mare #mareven #red queen series #mare x maven #maven x mare #red queen fanfiction #red queen fanfic #king's cage #kings cage

11 notes · View notes

iwanthermidnightz · 2 years

Text

Taylor Swift is best known and beloved as a storyteller, often weaving personal details, cultural references, and double entendres into her songs.

"I love to communicate via Easter eggs. I think the best messages are cryptic ones," she told Entertainment Weekly in 2019. She cited clothing, jewelry, and music-video sets as favored hiding spots, adding that she has been "encoding messages into the lyrics" since her debut album in 2006.

Because Swift is proudly meticulous and intentional with her art, fans delight in dissecting her lyrics and visuals, treating each album like a trail of breadcrumbs to be found and interpreted.

A certain branch of Swifties, known as "Gaylors," have long found queer subtext and themes in her music — particularly sapphic listeners who find solace and camaraderie in Swift's accounts of quiet yearning, forbidden love, and female intimacy.

In fact, some believe that dismissing the queer narratives in Swift's music does "a disservice to her genius and lyrical prowess."

Songs like "Welcome to New York" and "You Need to Calm Down" boast overt nods to LGBTQ causes, while others contain subtle phrases and slang that are widely known within the gay community — and therefore highly unlikely to have flown beneath Swift's diligent radar.

Insider's music team analyzed 31 songs in Swift's catalog from a queer perspective, listed below in chronological order.

"Mary's Song (Oh My My My)"

"Mary's Song (Oh My My My)" was apparently inspired by a couple who lived next door to Swift's family while she was growing up.

Swift seems to narrate the story from Mary's perspective, opening with a female pronoun: "She said, I was 7 and you were 9 / I looked at you like the stars that shined."

Because the other half of the couple is neither named nor gendered in the lyrics, Swift seems to fill the role herself, as if she and Mary share these intimate memories ("Our very first fight," "Our favorite spot in town").

Their relationship is defined by fate, but also by disbelief: "Our daddies used to joke about the two of us / They never believed we'd really fall in love." This could point to attraction that breaks with convention, or a fantasy tinged with the fear of familial rejection.

Notably, those fathers are mentioned in the first two verses but absent in the final chorus, when Swift recounts Mary's wedding.

"The Very First Night"

"The Very First Night" was released as a vault track on "Red (Taylor's Version)," meaning it was cut from the album's original tracklist in 2012.

Fans immediately found the song notable for its apparent bait-and-switch.

In the pre-chorus, Swift sings, "They don't know about the night in the hotel / They weren't riding in the car when we both fell," establishing a classic rhyme scheme known as AA BB.

However, the next couplet doesn't rhyme: "Didn't read the note on the Polaroid picture / They don't know how much I miss you."

The final "you" is jarring since the ear is trained to expect a four-line stanza made up of two rhyming couplets. "Her" would have been the natural word here, and the substitution seems designed to be obvious — particularly for a lyrical expert like Swift.

This strategy continues throughout the song as she pairs words like "whispered" and "whisper" with "you."

The song also features the lyric, "We broke the status quo / Then we broke each other's hearts." It's difficult to argue that Swift having secret rendezvous with a man would break the status quo in any significant way.

"Welcome to New York"

"Welcome to New York" is the opening track of "1989," Swift's official pivot to pop.

She said the album was largely inspired by the "celebration of being unique" in New York City, noting the "freedom" she felt after moving there.

"Everybody here was someone else before," she sings in the second verse. "And you can want who you want / Boys and boys and girls and girls."

When asked specifically about the aforementioned line on a 2014 episode of "The Talk," Swift responded, "I wrote the song kind of following when gay marriage became legal in New York."

"So many of my friends had to be kind of scrutinized for who they were in love with from the time they came out," she continued. "I didn't want to make a big deal of it because I don't think it should be a big deal who you love."

The state of New York legalized same-sex marriage in June 2011. Swift moved to the city three years later in March 2014 and released "1989" in October of that year.

"Style"

"Style" is ostensibly about Harry Styles, whom Swift reportedly dated in late 2012 and early 2013. But the lyrics describe a relationship that evades commitment and clear boundaries, so both people were romantic with others in their downtime.

"I say, 'I heard that you've been out and about with some other girl,'" Swift sings in the second verse. "He says, 'What you heard is true but I can't stop thinking 'bout you and I.'"

Swift replies: "I've been there too a few times."

Given the vague phrasing, this could easily be interpreted to mean that Swift had also been "out and about with some other girl."

Swift kept her interpretation similarly vague while discussing the line with Ryan Seacrest in 2014.

"It's basically one of those relationships that's always a bit off. The two people are trying to forget each other, they both have been out with other people and are trying to forget one another," she explained. "So, it's like, 'Alright, I heard you went off with her and you came back, and well, I've done that, too.'"

"Out of the Woods"

"Out of the Woods" recycles the image of a Polaroid picture that Swift used in "The Very First Night," perhaps indicating the songs were inspired by the same person.

"You took a Polaroid of us / Then discovered / The rest of the world was black and white / But we were in screaming color," she sings in the first verse.

The juxtaposition between the monochromatic world and the relationship's "screaming color" carries the implication of a queer awakening, as gay pride is heavily associated with vibrance and rainbows.

"Out of the Woods" also embodies an anxious, claustrophobic feeling that many closeted queer people may relate to. Swift draws a parallel between the thrill of falling in love and the fear of being discovered.

"I Wish You Would"

"I Wish You Would" features the lyric "We're a crooked love in a straight line down," which echoes the prejudiced idea that queer love is deviant, unnatural, or "crooked" in a culture that deems being straight as the standard.

"How You Get the Girl"

"The song 'How You Get the Girl' is a song that I wrote about how you get the girl back if you ruined the relationship somehow and she won't talk to you anymore," Swift told Audacy in 2014.

"Like, if you broke up with her and left her on her own for six months and then you realize you miss her," she continued. "All the steps you have to do to edge your way back into her life, because she's probably pretty mad at you. So it's kind of a tutorial."

While this song could be read as Swift doling out advice for clueless men, it's not outrageous to imagine that she's speaking from experience. Because Swift only uses "she" and "her" pronouns throughout the song, both interpretations are able to coexist.

"Wonderland"

"Wonderland" is a source of much speculation among Swift's fans. The song is built upon a bed of references to "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," the famous 1865 novel by Lewis Carroll that was animated by Disney in 1951.

Swift uses "falling down the rabbit hole," which transports Alice to Wonderland, as an extended metaphor for falling in love.

"Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?" is a nod to Alice's observation that "curiosity often leads to trouble." Swift also aligns herself with the book's band of outsiders with the lines, "Too in love to think straight" and "We both went mad."

Many fans have noted that Dianna Agron — who was frequently photographed with Swift in 2011 and 2012 before abruptly distancing from each other in 2013 — had a "Wonderland" quote tattooed on her ribcage that has since been removed. She also reportedly had a Tumblr, deleted in 2013, that was called "felldowntherabbithole."

"I believe that love comes in many ways, shapes, and colors," Agron told Nylon in 2015. "I feel proud that we as a society are starting to understand and support more than just the social norms."

"New Romantics"

Just the title of "New Romantics" could be interpreted as a cheeky nod to queerness, especially since the public support for gay marriage began hitting new highs in the years that Swift wrote "1989."

"'Cause baby, I could build a castle / Out of all the bricks they threw at me," she sings in the chorus.

Throwing bricks is symbolically linked with the 1969 protest at Stonewall Inn in New York City, which is often cited as a turning point in the national fight for LGBTQ liberation.

It's safe to say Swift is aware of this history: She gave a surprise performance at Stonewall Inn in 2019 and included a nod to the landmark in her music video for "You Need to Calm Down." (Ryan Reynolds is shown creating a painting of its facade.)

Another noteworthy lyric arrives in the second verse when Swift sings, "The rumors are terrible and cruel / But, honey, most of them are true."

"Don't Blame Me"

"Don't Blame Me" employs drug use as a metaphor for love, broadly evoking themes of experimentation and rebellion.

In the first verse, Swift draws a contrast between the men she's used as "playthings" and a new kind of relationship, one that's authentic and private: "Something happened for the first time / In the darkest little paradise." Shortly after, she admits, "For you, I would cross the line."

In the second verse, she gets more specific: "Halo hiding my obsession / I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy."

Fans have theorized this points to Karlie Kloss, Swift's one-time best friend. They were nearly inseparable for several years before a rumored rift in 2018.

Kloss is best known as a model and Victoria's Secret Angel. When Swift performed at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show in 2013 and 2014, the two women would exchange playful touches and strut down the runway holding hands ("Halo hiding my obsession").

In March 2014, the duo took a road trip through Big Sur, which Kloss described as "an adventure of a lifetime with my girl." She also shared a photo of a yellow daisy, tagging Swift as the center of the flower ("Now I'm your daisy").

"Gorgeous"

"Gorgeous" is plainly about forbidden love — or, more accurately, forbidden attraction. Swift is agonized by the subject's beauty because, as she admits, "there's nothing I hate more than what I can't have."

This song could certainly be about Joe Alwyn, Swift's current partner of nearly six years, who she may have met while dating another man.

It could also be about sapphic desire. As Lindsay Zoladz wrote for The Ringer, "the listener has to accept that there exists something, or someone, that Pop Overlord Taylor Swift cannot immediately command with the snap of a beautifully manicured finger."

"Doesn't 'Gorgeous' sound like it's about having a crush on a woman?" Zoladz continued. "Wouldn't that be the only kind of love forbidden to Taylor 'I'd Never Alienate My Republican Fan Base' Swift?"

(Note: "Gorgeous" was written and released several years before Swift expressed liberal political views and aligned herself with the LGBTQ community.)

(Also note: During the "Reputation" stadium tour, Swift would use the song to introduce the "gorgeous women" onstage with her.)

"Dancing With Our Hands Tied"

"Dancing With Our Hands Tied" is another example of Swift associating love with anxiety and panic, a striking motif of both "Reputation" and "Lover."

The title applies a common idiom, "used to say that someone is unable to act freely because something (such as a rule or law) prevents it," according to Merriam-Webster.

As a hyper-famous woman, Swift is likely "unable to act freely" in a new relationship for fear of rumors, tabloids, and paparazzi.

In a queer context, "Dancing With Our Hands Tied" captures the fear of coming out and being met with homophobia. This is illustrated in the song's second verse: "I loved you in spite of / Deep fears that the world would divide us."

"Dress"

During every show on the "Reputation" stadium tour, Swift would dedicate "Dress" to Loie Fuller, a pioneer of modern dance and an out lesbian. According to Vogue, who photographed Fuller in 1913, she lived with her girlfriend from 1905 until her death.

"Dress" is perhaps Swift's most explicitly sexual song ("Only bought this dress so you could take it off"). Although Swift is a noted fan of wearing dresses, it's possible to read this line as the song's subject taking off her own dress.

"Dress" also includes the line "I don't want you like a best friend" twice in each chorus, indicating a friends-to-lovers arc. This is notable because, one, falling in love with your best friend is canonically queer, and two, Kloss described Swift as her best friend on more than one occasion.

Later, Swift sings defiantly, "Everyone thinks that they know us / But they know nothing about us." This doesn't seem to match the tone of Swift's relationship with Alwyn. At the time "Reputation" was released, the public knew hardly any information about their dynamic or history.

"They have quite a low-key relationship, which Taylor likes," Swift's pal Ed Sheeran said in October 2017. "It's normal, and no one really knows about it right now."

Even the song's name invites speculation that it could be about a queer relationship. Put plainly, the song is about sex — so it's interesting that she represented that concept with a dress, a widely recognized symbol of femininity.

"Me!"

Swift described her seventh album "Lover" as "very, very autobiographical," citing "extreme catchiness and moments of extreme personal confession."

She released its lead single on April 26, which is recognized nationally as Lesbian Visibility Day. She promoted the flamboyant music video with a post on Instagram, writing in the caption, "ME! Out now!"

She seems to nod to the gay-pride flag in both the video and the lyrics, singing of herself, "But one of these things is not like the others / Like a rainbow with all of the colors."

In her Netflix documentary "Miss Americana," Swift explained the video's aesthetic concept to Brendon Urie, who is featured on the song.

"Whatever makes you, you — emo kids, theatre, dance sequences, 'La La Land,' everything," she began, to which Urie replied, "Nailed it."

"And when it's me, it's like — dancers, cats, gay pride, people in country western boots. I start riding a unicorn," she continued. "Everything that makes me, me."

"You Need to Calm Down"

"You Need to Calm Down" is Swift's most emphatic declaration of support for the LGBTQ community.

Although Swift doesn't explicitly identify herself as a member of the community, she sings in the song's pre-chorus that "shade never made anybody less gay."

This may be a callback to "I Forgot That You Existed," the opening track of "Lover," in which Swift said she "lived in the shade you were throwing."

In the music video, Swift also wears a wig with the colors of the bisexual-pride flag.

"Cruel Summer"

Fans speculate that "Cruel Summer" was written in 2016 when Swift was socially ostracized due to her feud with Kim Kardashian and Ye, formally known as Kanye West. A photocopied page of her diary was included with physical copies of "Lover," in which Swift had written, "This summer is the apocalypse."

Some believe this song was inspired by Alwyn, although according to that same diary, he didn't begin dating Swift until October 2016.

Instead, phrases like "angels roll their eyes" and "no rules in breakable heaven" may be references to Kloss' legacy as a Victoria's Secret Angel.

In the bridge, Swift sings, "I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you," calling to mind a closeted queer romance.

"The Man"

"The Man" exposes sexist double standards in Hollywood, exploring how Swift might be perceived if she were born a man but made all the same choices.

Swift explained the song's concept in an audio clip for Spotify's storyline feature.

"I've had the thought several times in my career, wondering if I had been a man instead of a woman, and if I had lived my life exactly the same way — had the same triumphs, made the same mistakes, dated the same people — what would people have said about me if I was a man instead of a woman?" she said.

The phrase "dated the same people" becomes relevant when paired with the song's bridge: "What's it like to brag about raking in dollars / And getting bitches and models?"

"The Archer"

In "The Archer," Swift compares falling in love to preparing herself for "combat" and expresses a deep-rooted fear of being seen and understood. Queer fans may relate to this as a fear of being outed.

The song's bridge is particularly foreboding: "'Cause they see right through me / They see right through me / They see right through / Can you see right through me? / They see right through / They see right through me / I see right through me / I see right through me."

"False God"

While superficially a love song, "False God" contains clear undertones of religious guilt and shame, recognized by queer people who were raised in God-fearing households.

"They all warned us about times like this / They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith," she sings in the pre-chorus. In this context, "they" would refer to those who use religion as a reason to oppose gay rights.

Indeed, Swift's early work hints at a relatively religious and conservative upbringing. She references praying and keeping faith in tracks like "Our Song," "Christmas Must Be Something More," and "Come in With the Rain."

Although her current relationship with religion is a bit murky, Swift does mention Jesus in her 2019 track "Soon You'll Get Better," and in "Miss Americana," she self-identifies as a Christian.

"It's Nice to Have a Friend"

"It's Nice to Have a Friend" thematically mirrors "Mary's Song (Oh My My My)," describing a childhood friendship that blossoms into an adult relationship.

The songs even follow the same structure, describing a youthful crush in verse one and a budding teen romance in verse two, concluding with the couple's wedding and happy ending.

"It's Nice to Have a Friend" doesn't use any male or female pronouns, but several details suggest girlhood and shared femininity: swapping gloves, sleeping in a tent together as kids, "light pink sky," "call my bluff, call you 'babe.'"

"The 1"

"The 1" is the opening track on "Folklore," which Swift described as a collection of stories, visuals, and characters as a vehicle for expressing her own "whims, dreams, fears, and musings."

"The lines between fantasy and reality blur," she told fans upon the album's release. "Speculation, over time, becomes fact."

"The 1" broadly explores the question of "what could've been," recounting details of past relationships with overtones of nostalgia and regret.

"We were something, don't you think so? / Rosé flowing with your chosen family," Swift sings in the final chorus. "And it would've been sweet / If it could've been me."

Swift has used "chosen family" to describe friends she made in her 20s, specifically those she left behind: "It's sad but sometimes when you grow, you outgrow relationships," she wrote in 2019.

But the term is also deeply entwined with the LGBTQ community, where it's used to describe a group of friends, usually queer, who support and celebrate your identity — especially in the face of homophobia or familial rejection.

"Seven"

"Seven" is clearly in conversation with "Mary's Song (Oh My My My)" and "It's Nice to Have a Friend." This trilogy seems to excavate queer feelings and connections that arise at a tender age, especially within friendships that begin platonically or appear platonic from the outside. (See also: "I knew everything when I was young," the pivotal line in "Cardigan.")

Of the three songs, "Seven" contains the brightest glimmers of queerness. Swift sings about someone with "braids like a pattern" whom she wants to run away with: "Pack your dolls and a sweater / We'll move to India forever."

Swift even references the famous idiom "in the closet," used to describe someone who's hiding their sexuality: "I think your house is haunted / Your dad is always mad and that must be why / And I think you should come live with me / And we can be pirates / Then you won't have to cry / Or hide in the closet."

The dad who's "always mad" recalls the father figures in "Mary's Song," who didn't believe their kids would really fall in love.

"Illicit Affairs"

"Illicit Affairs" is widely interpreted as a song about marital infidelity, but a love affair could be "illicit," or forbidden, for a variety of reasons — including laws, rules, or societal norms.

Swift sings of a relationship full of "clandestine meetings and longing stares," an experience that could be applied to a variety of queer love stories throughout history and pop culture. Fans have paired the lyric with TV shows and films like "Call Me by Your Name," "Portrait of a Lady on Fire," "Heartstopper," "Happiest Season," and "My Policeman."

Another line in the bridge, "You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else," recalls the rainbow-infused allusions in "Out of the Woods" and "Me!"

"Invisible String"

The central metaphor of "Invisible String" was likely inspired by an East Asian folk myth known as "the red thread of fate," visualized as a red string tied around the fingers of soulmates, connecting them by either end.

The song is also rich with Easter eggs and callbacks. Swift opens by referencing Centennial Park in Nashville, Tennessee, known as her adopted hometown. In verse two, she references the title of her 2014 single "Bad Blood."

Because much of the song draws from real details in Swift's life, fans were quick to note the intentional phrasing in the final chorus: "Time, wondrous time / Gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies."

Blue-purple-pink is the exact arrangement of the triple-striped bisexual-pride flag, from bottom to top.

"Betty"

I previously wrote about the queer interpretation of "Betty" and how it can, and should, coexist alongside Swift's official explanation that it's written "from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy."

Within the song itself, the narrator is only known as James, named after Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's eldest daughter. (Swift herself was named after James Taylor.)

The song declines to give the narrator any gendered pronouns or identifiers. This vagueness makes it easier to visualize your own versions of the characters — and with Swift's feminine voice serenading a girl named Betty, it's arguably easiest to visualize two girls.

The core listening experience of "Betty" is hearing a girl sing about wanting to kiss another girl.

"Gold Rush"

"Gold Rush," the second track on "Evermore," is about pining for someone who "everybody wants" and refusing to submit to their charms ("I can't dare to dream about you anymore").

Swift describes this person's beauty as "gleaming, twinkling," and perceptibly feminine: "What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? / With your hair falling into place like dominoes."

One year before the release of "Evermore," Kloss shared a photo of herself in a golden dress for the 2019 Met Gala. She captioned the post, "Gold rush."

Swift had previously described Kloss using terms like "gold" and "sunshine." She selected the sun when asked to describe Kloss using a single emoji in 2015. (In return, Kloss selected the princess for Swift.)

"Tolerate It"

Swift told Apple Music's Zane Lowe that "Tolerate It" was largely inspired by "Rebecca," a 1938 Gothic novel by Daphne du Maurier.

"I was thinking, 'Wow, her husband just tolerates her. She's doing all these things and she's trying so hard and she's trying to impress him, and he's just tolerating her the whole time,'" she explained. "There was a part of me that was relating to that, because at some point in my life, I felt that way."

The song's central couplet captures this heartbreaking indifference: "I know my love should be celebrated / But you tolerate it."

During a 2019 interview with Elvis Duran, Swift echoed this very sentiment while discussing her public support of LGBTQ rights and the Equality Act.

"I just wanted to make it known to everyone around me, and my loved ones, and my fans, and my friends and my colleagues, like, I don't just tolerate the way that you are, I celebrate the way that you are," she said.

"Dorothea"

Much like "Betty," "Dorothea" is a love song addressed to a girl. Swift described the titular character as "a girl who left her small town to chase down Hollywood dreams."

But unlike "Betty," Swift has never declared that "Dorothea" was written from the male perspective.

"If you're ever tired of being known for who you know / You know, you'll always know me, Dorothea," Swift sings in the chorus.

"Friend of Dorothy" is popular queer slang; you may have heard the term in The 1995 film "Clueless", or more recently in Netflix's "The Crown". It was originally coined as a synonym for a gay man, but it's more commonly used today as a catchall for any member of the LGBTQ community.

"Ivy"

On its face, "Ivy" is the "infidelity" chapter of "Evermore's" failed marriage anthology.

The narrator seems to be a married woman who's in love with someone else, terrified that her husband will find out.

Many fans have theorized that "Ivy" was inspired by Emily Dickinson. Scholars believe the poet was a lesbian and in love with her childhood best friend, Sue Gilbert, who ended up marrying Dickinson's brother.

The two women shared plenty of intimate letters and Gilbert apparently inspired much of Dickinson's poetry, the most famous of which ends with the line, "Sue - forevermore!" (Not to mention, "Evermore" was announced on Dickinson's birthday, December 10.)

The Apple TV+ series "Dickinson" celebrates the poet's queerness and focuses largely on her clandestine romance with Gilbert.

At the end of a 2021 episode titled "Grief Is a Mouse," the women reunite for a passionate sex scene that leads into the credits, soundtracked by "Ivy."

Swift herself approved the song's usage in the show, according to showrunner Alena Smith.

"I really wanted to use that song — I mean I love that song and also the fans have sort of developed a mythology around it as being a song that relates to Emily and Sue on some emotional level," Smith told the Hollywood Reporter, adding, "We were lucky that Taylor said yes."

"Cowboy Like Me"

"Cowboy Like Me" uses the titles "cowboy" and "bandit" as euphemisms to describe two people in cahoots, hiding who they are from the outside world.

"You're a cowboy like me," then, could be interpreted as a private recognition of shared queerness.

"You asked me to dance / But I said, 'Dancing is a dangerous game,'" Swift sings in the first verse, a clear reference to "Dancing With Our Hands Tied" and the risk she associates with being openly in love.

Later, Swift sings of "the old men that I've swindled" and pretending she was in love for financial gain: "Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear / Like it could be love / I could be the way forward / Only if they pay for it."

Celebrities have been known to engage in relationships for PR purposes— to promote a film, for example, or rehabilitate a person's reputation.

PR relationships have also been historically used to conceal a celebrity's sexuality. Stars like Michael Bolton and Colten Haynes have described the "isolation" and emotional pain this caused before they felt comfortable publicly coming out as gay.

"Right Where You Left Me"

"Right Where You Left Me" one of the most heartbreaking songs in Swift's catalog, also contains one of her most conspicuous queer references.

"I swear you could hear a hairpin drop / Right when I felt the moment stop," Swift sings in the pre-chorus. "Glass shattered on the white cloth / Everybody moved on / I stayed there."

The commonly used idiom is "you could hear a pin drop," meaning it's very quiet. But Swift intentionally changed the noun to "hairpin."

"Dropping hairpins" is a well-known euphemism in the LGBTQ community, described by the New York Times as "a traditional gay gambit."

"This means to drop clues, if not outright statements, about one's own homosexuality in an effort to induce one's interlocutor to follow suit," the Times reported in 2015.

The Stonewall Inn protest is also known was "the hairpin drop heard around the world."

#THIS WAS SO NECESSARY TO HAVE ALL IN ONE PLACE #the writer did their homework

141 notes · View notes