#SO YOU ARE SAYING THAT YOU NEED TO LIKE TAYLOR SWIFT TO BE A FEMINIST

[agent-44mc]

the phrase "girls girl" is sexism evolved and created in fear of being labeled as misandry and/or the south's fear of being labeled of a leftist, liberal, or feminist.

I am all for being a girls girl, but men aren’t required to like all men. Women now are required to like all women and everything about them. We must like someone’s music just because a woman made it. They can’t be competitive and trash talk like men because that’s not being inclusive for all women. We can’t talk about how we dislike a certain style, god forbid we hate a certain style; god forbid we say we hate something a woman is a part of.

women can take the same amount of criticism a man gets. BUT. Women shouldn’t be criticized just for being a woman. They shouldn’t be harmed, discriminated, hated just for BEING a woman.

I hate this new “girls girl” culture. I hate how people criticize Taylor Swift (womp womp) for being competitive on the charts and calling her “not a girls girl” simply for doing what a man would do with other men.

men don’t have to be a “boys boy” or whatever. Why?

Even in “feminist culture” we see harmful things.

don’t just say you’re a girls girl to gentrify and make yourself less scary to men. Say you’re a feminist. Criticize women. Advocate on your own life that every woman, even the ones you criticize are safe and treated as equal.

We are now held to the same standard we were in 1950 to always be pleasant and never to hate anyone. But it's been re-branded to being a girls girl.

But it's so entertaining when we are, isn't it? That's something we may never escape no matter what we do.

Be someone who fights for women. Be someone who believes all women are equal and all deserve to live life as freely as men. But you do not have to like every woman, just as you come prepared in mind that you may not be liked.

All that is truly important is that we don't put down other women to intentionally HURT them. There is a line between simply not liking a woman and putting them down intentionally.

AND WHILE I'M ON THE SUBJECT, I am also tired of this "pick-me" shit that's been going around. Blatant sexism that comes stems from the expectation of how women should act. You have no cause to call a woman a pick me just for mentioning that she likes video games, or may just get along better with boys- it depends on how she treats about women. That is all that matters!

And yes- you get to not like her. Because? We're human too.

Writing this very essay has made me feel inhuman. We need a guide on how to be morally right because we keep having to put up with how society wants us to be. We should be girls girls, but we also need to entertain by getting pulled into rivalries intentionally for the sake of.

If you skipped everything I said, this is the only thing you need to worry about. TREAT EVERYONE AS EQUAL AND HAVING SUCH EQUALITY TO EXERCISE AN INHERENT LIKE TO OUR OWN FUCKING FEELINGS TOWARD PEOPLE. TREAT EVERYONE AS EQUAL; AS YOU WOULD NOT CARE FOR ONE TO DISLIKE YOU, BUT WOULD CARE VERY MUCH IF THEY ALLOWED YOU TO BE HARMED, EMOTIONALLY OR PHYSICALLY. BUT- HATING OR DISLIKING SOMEONE FOR A QUALITY THEY WERE BORN WITH CANNOT BE JUSTIFIED BY ANY FORM; UNLESS SAID QUALITY HARMS OTHERS.

THAT IS FEMINISM. LIBERATE YOURSELF FROM THE NARRATIVE AND GO FREELY.

[tasteless-lemonade]

so sorry for the spam i think your blog is so cool and your posts are cathartic and healing my soul i'm blessed we are mutuals i NEED comic book fans who can read on the piss poor website 😭

same 😭 also i need some positivity because so many comic blogs i see have posts full of free hate (see: my post about the oliver queen tag)

[edsheerankinnie]

Being a swiftie rn is so hard like. Maybe you are Wretched. Maybe you are Fearsome. Maybe you are Wrong.

@taylorswift SPEAK NOW🍉🇵🇸

[quinnfebrey]

it’s really funny that taylor has adopted a reputation for being well-read and book smart because every time she opens her mouth about a real world issue i am forcibly reminded that she stopped going into school after 10th grade (her words), and even then, her formal education was provided by the state of tennessee.

because… what?

to frame patriarchy as this inherent thing that has ALWAYS existed and is as naturally occurring as a blue sky, is just not true. and to frame capitalism as this thing that is inherent is also just… not true. i could never unpack in just a post why those claims are ahistorical, but i will say that it is fucking nuts to look at an issue of capitalism and say “yeah it’s a problem, but, well, i’m just going to win at it 🤩” and call it feminism.

and that is the problem with white feminism. it just turns into idiots trying to speak on single topics and cherry pick their agendas, even though, in a sociopolitical or socioeconomic sense, it doesn’t work like that. you cannot talk about feminism without discussing western society, organized religion, global superpowers, communities of color, colonization, climate change, corporations, monopolies and more. anything less is useless at best and misleading at worst.

(because when you don’t, you get brain dead hot takes like “patriarchy has existed since the dawn of time, and so has money!”)

it’s like how greta thunberg said that she started as just a climate change activist, but now she’s basically a total anti-capitalist advocating for a complete disruption and overthrow to the way the world currently runs because she realized that advocating for that and advocating for climate justice are one and the same.

and if you criticize taylor swift for talking out of her ass, you’ll be hit with brainwashed swifties throwing out the word “misogyny” or “you’d never ask another celebrity this” or “you’re holding her to her own standards” because they’ve been hearing taylor’s bullshit feminism for so long that now they’ve adopted it as their own

taylor’s feminism will NEVER surpass the self-serving role it fills in her life because to do so would mean confronting the bigotry she has upheld, the questionable people she spends her time with, the wealth she is hoarding, her impact on the environment, and much more.

which is… fine, i guess. she doesn’t have to be a good feminist. but in that case she needs to pick a side and shut her fucking mouth about it. because letting her romp around spewing out the most egocentric and individualistic interpretations of it is boring and unhelpful.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

if you ever did an in-depth post about ‘you need to calm down’ i would love to see it because that is my most-hated taylor swift song. like why are you comparing your beef with katy perry to homophobia 😭😭😭

As a lesbian- I have a lot of feelings pent up about "You Need to Calm Down" and all of them are negative.

At the songs core- Swift is showing herself to be horribly ignorant. Are we really all going to accept her propping up the idea that homophobia is the same as having a public disagreement with another celebrity? Not only is she negating the power dynamics that often exist within the propagation of homophobia, by insinuating that homophobia is the same as a disagreement between equals in society, but she is also trivializing it down to a simple disagreement over career related bullshit.

Not to mention that she is NOT an ally- I cannot stand the people who think she is a left-leaning, feminist, LGBT advocate. It's like they have created a fanfiction concept of Taylor Swift in their heads.

She profits off the LGBT community when it is most beneficial- but when legitimate rights are being stripped away, she is silent.

Taylor Swift is really good at commodifying social trends without actually risking anything. She waits until it is safe- then pretends to speak up for people's rights, when, in reality, she is just finally able to turn the social trend into part of her brand. Therefore, she gave a stupid line in the song "Welcome to New York" (2014) about how New York City is somehow a utopia of gay freedom (not true but whatever), and then in "You Need to Calm Down" she was profiting off the excess of emotion and democratic enterprising seeping off the US Election cycle.

Her first use of this profit-first tacit happened in 2014- what happened in 2015? The US supreme court legalized same-sex marriage. Swift simply saw the social trend- and captialized off a topic about which the youth were passionate.

The second time, in "You Need to Calm Down" she published this song in 2019- firmly within her faux activist era, and well-aware that the youth were interested in politics. This was right before the 2020 US election- she once again saw the increase of young people paying attention to the ideological split within the country- bearing in mind her target audience skews young, progressive, and American, she pounced on the opportunity to capitalize off their impulse towards supporting ideological-progressive media. As we all geared up to vote down the conservative-leaning Donald Trump, who aligned himself with right-wing religious ideologies standing to threaten the previous supreme court decision on Same-Sex rights, Swift swoops in with a silly pop-beat and a fake country accent to pretend she is the savior of the young and gay.

If it wasn't so shady- it would be a brillant use of rhetorical analysis to sell product. Capitalism has made a cynic of me- I fear.

Swift saw the fear of young LGBT people- during an election cycle-and decided to profit off that fear not through distancing herself from them, but by pretending to care. Notice, again, how she only mentioned gay rights during these very specific cultural conditions which allow her to somehow make a profit off ideologically aligning herself with one side of an issue or another.

Personally, I find fake care even more heinous than outright hatred.

Once again- in this current year she is using the endorsement of a US presidential candidate to further her own brand and try to re-affirm her place within the general rhetorical circles of "progressive and therefore morally upstanding individual" to the youth.

It's all a calculated move to shake-off whatever negative press she got through her associations with right-wing Footballers and keep her prime audience of young Americans.

I have much more to say on this topic- but for now, this is where I leave you. I have to go eat lunch.

[mlqueen89]

One | Flyboy 

so cross your thoughtless heart  she's the albatross  she is here to destroy you 

The Albatross by Taylor Swift | TTPD |     

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x f!oc (top gun: maverick) 

rating: 18+ (minors dni) 

w a r n i n gs : smut, mentions of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, one-night stand, jake being a cocky, self-assured man who leaves no crumbs after he eats. 

word count: 8,997

summary: in affairs of the heart, eleanor rigby has one strict rule: no pilots. Less than 24 hours back in the US, she breaks it. 

A/N: this whole entire fic literally started with the (full) name of eleanor. i also have a radar tech in the family, so that helped a bit. snowball met a steep hill and picked up speed. i've planned for ~10(ish) chapters, but it may be open ended with a few more random scenes/chapters here and there.  

proud to say that this one was beta read by my bestest friend, so you know she was mean to me helpful. 

also! i saw the asks - super excited to dive into those, tysm. ♡♡

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ next chapter ❥

Eleanor Rigby hadn’t wanted to go to the Halloween party, not really.    

The boxes stacked in the spare bedroom of her friend Nicole’s four-bedroom house desperately needed unpacking and the 10-hour time change from Western Turkey to San Diego was kicking her ass. She’d done about as much unpacking as was required to find a suitable outfit for her new job in the morning, folded them carefully and set them out.   

When Nicole had invited her out, Ellie had fallen asleep, mid-unpack of the rest of her belongings, waking only when the bubbly blonde burst into the room and jumped onto the foot of her bed, dressed in all her glory as Barbie.   

“Ellie does San Diego! Let’s goooo.” Nicole tugged at Ellie’s arm as Yanique flicked on the light in the ensuite, reapplying a purple-ish shade of lipstick as Ellie blinked against the sudden light in her dim room, her arm jiggled aggressively by an enthusiastic Nic.   

Bleary-eyed, her voice just a croak, Ellie politely declined, muttering something about starting her new job early the next morning and making a good impression. Nicole eventually relented with a huff and left, a little less than impressed, with their other two roommates, Yan and Sophie, in tow.   

Within 45 minutes, her phone buzzing against the hardtop of the nightstand, the voice messages started flowing in.   

Nicole’s first voice message was short, 12 seconds. Ellie’s thumb jabbed at the play button as she gathered the dishes from her girl dinner of toast and coffee and used her elbow to push down on the paddle door handle, making her way to the shared kitchen.   

Ellieeeeeeee... Eleanor Rigbyyyyyy ....   

There was a dull thud of base in the background somewhere, behind the long, pronounced whine of Nicole’s voice as she sang the beginning of her namesake Beatles song, horribly off-key.   

Ellie, please you have to come out. It’s Halloween, the most magical night of the year! Just make an appearance. An hour, tops. Please?   

Ellie moved through the kitchen, rinsing out her cup and placing it on the drying rack. Her head was in the fridge, scrounging around for an apple in the crisper drawer, when the next three messages came in.   

Please, pretty, pretty, pretty, please with like, a million cherries on top, even though I know you hate cherries.    

Bradley’s not here yet, Yan already left with a weird guy in a Frankenstein costume—do we know what kink that is? That has to be a kink, right? I’m not kink shaming though, I promise. He was just like... weird. Do you think I should get her to drop her location? Like, just in case?   

Soph is requesting Chappell Roan for the like, twentieth time, and I think she’s going to start a fight with the DJ about being an anti-feminist incel if he doesn’t play “HOT TO GO!” again... did you know that she broke up with that witch, wiccan girl from Hinge? HingeWitch? The one that had that study of cheeses in her bio, that blue cheese description—Ellie thought she heard Nicole pause to gag—anyway, I think she thinks she got cursed or something...    

The voice message cut off even though Nicole’s tone suggested that she wasn’t finished talking about Sophie’s ex.   

There was a garbled message in between the last one and the next, one in which Ellie could hear Nicole begging the DJ not to leave and promising to talk to her friend about the excessive requests for Chappell Roan.   

Don’t abandon me in my time of need, El. Desperate need. Like, jumping off of very tall somethings desperacy.   

Ellie smirked. Nicole, her very best friend in the whole wide world, quite possibly the vast universe, was, in fact, very dramatic.   

Quickly, before another voice message could roll in, Ellie hit record on her own before she bit into her apple, wrestling the third box out of a teetering tower of boxes in the corner of her room and hit send.   

Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.   

The response pinged back quickly.   

Ohmygodohmygod, thank you! Remember, the theme is Icons through the Ages!   

Wear something sexy. Iconic sexy. Iconically sexy? But not Hawaiian Barbie. Or whatever Soph is dressed up as. I want to say is either Frida Kahalo or Mama Imelda from Coco. Basically, avoid anything with a Mexican gothic vibe.

Once Ellie had managed to pull her vintage leather aviator jacket from the box, the one she’d mislabeled in her hurry to pack everything up, the rest of her costume came together fairly quickly.   

When she found the venue, a small bar off a main street, she still had around 30 seconds to spare on her twenty-minute promise to Nic.   

Eleanor had always known that Nicole was popular, but the Halloween party, a party which Nicole had demurely announced was just “a small thing” with “a few work friends” was in actuality, not quite a small thing.  

Weaving her way through the crowd, Ellie scanned the room, trying to pick out the hot pink of Nicole’s costume or the flower crown Sophie had carefully woven into her voluminous red hair.   

Squeezing her way through a group of Spanish Conquistadors (notably with less armour and more exposed skin than was historically accurate) Ellie paused short of the small DJ booth in the corner of the bar, her eyes still scanning for Nicole when her eyes fell on him.  

Sandy blonde hair peeked out from under a neon sweatband, shoulders stocky and solid in a sleeveless denim vest over a t-shirt that read, No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem. The white sneakers, short shorts, and that unmistakable lanky sway to the beat of Footloose pumping through the venue that could only belong to one person.   

It was Ken.  

Specifically, the Ken to Nicole’s Barbie.    

“Bradshaw?” Ellie called, squinting.  

Ken spun around with the beat of the song, a lopsided grin already on his lips as he faced her. “Holy shit, Rigsy?” Swiftly, Bradley Bradshaw was over to her, scooping Ellie off her feet, squeezing her tightly in a bear hug, shaking her frame slightly with a growl, before she groaned and he set her back down, feather light.   

“You didn’t say you were back stateside.”   

“My flight got in last night.” Ellie shrugged, straightening her jacket and adjusting the thin white scarf around her neck, “Just wanted to surprise you, Rooster.”   

“Well, damn it,” Bradley nodded in approval, all dimples and easy charm, “colour me surprised.”  

It was no wonder Nicole had fallen for him, head over Barbie heels. Even Ellie liked him, and that was saying something.   

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was less pilot and more golden retriever, a good heart wrapped in an all-American charm with an easygoing, dopey grin that made people feel like they’d known him for years. He was the kind of guy who’d lend you his jacket and forget to ask for it back or show up at your door with takeout and Sleepless in Seattle cued up on a streaming service he had to pay an arm and a leg for, because he “just had a feeling.” The Batman who responded to the Emotional Needs and Mercury Retrograde Bat Signal™. The hero the people deserved. Ellie was pretty sure she caught him watching videos of a baby hippo getting into shenanigans at a zoo in China on loop for 14 minutes while Nic tried to pick an episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians that would really pique his interest and get him invested enough to make it his “new Roman Empire”.  

Ellie remembered the night Nicole and Bradley had met with perfect clarity.   

Nicole had been in the middle of swearing off all men for the foreseeable future, her voice thick with the brand of determination that came with a prosecco-fueled resolution. Ellie had watched as her friend declare a new era of singlehood and Taylor Swift before turning to Sophie, slurring out a request for “gorgeous, single women willing to humor an experimental phase.”   

It wasn’t two minutes later that Nicole lurched forward, losing all her resolve—and her prosecco—in a sudden, graceless bout with the sidewalk.  

As Ellie rubbed her back and tried to get her standing, a group of pilots had come down the street—Bradley Bradshaw among them, flanked by two others they’d later get to know as Phoenix and Bob. Bradley had been the one to stop, eyes quickly scanning the situation, assessing and then moving in with expert precision. He’d peeled off his jacket immediately, holding it out to Nicole as she moaned her embarrassment and weakly gestured at the puddle of what had once been bubbly and appetizers a few feet away.  

“It’s okay,” Bradley had told her, voice soft and reassuring. “If you throw up on this one, I’ll just get another jacket tomorrow.” When she’d protested, he’d grinned, shrugging in that effortless way of his. “Honestly, they just give these jackets to anyone,” he’d joked, as if he hadn’t spent years earning the right to wear it and every single patch stitched on it.  

Nicole had blinked up at him, mascara smudged, his jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at him like he was some knight out of one of the many cheesy rom-coms she loved. And for once, Ellie hadn’t blamed her for it.  

That night, Bradley Bradshaw had seen her best friend at her worst and treated her like she was worth sticking around for.  

And that was Rooster in a nutshell—a steady warmth that lingered long after he was gone, the guy who would do just about anything to make Nicole smile, including, but not limited to, dressing up in the ridiculous costume he was currently wearing.  

Nudging her, Rooster grinned. “So,” he drawled, “does this mean I finally get the best friend stamp of approval?”  

Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning a reluctant sigh, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d approved of him long before now. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bradshaw.”  

“Too late,” he laughed, mimicking his head expanding dramatically before throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Already there.”  

Rooster grabbed his drink off the small table bordering the dance floor, draining the glass. “Love the costume, by the way," he sucked his teeth against the burn of the whiskey he’d downed, “I’ve not seen one Amelia Earhart here.” He craned his neck, searching in the dimly lit room.  

“You think the goggles are too much?” Ellie adjusted the strap on her head, pushing a loose strand of hair up underneath the band. “I think they might be cutting off circulation to my brain..."  

“An aviator is only as good as their headgear,” Rooster tapped the top of his head. “You’re just missing your call sign.” 

“Guess you must not be a very good one, then.” Ellie smirked, snapping the neon sweatband on his head with a laugh.  

Rooster levelled her with a narrowed gaze, but there was no heat behind it, “one day someone is going to love that you’re kind of mean.”  

“Sorry, Bradshaw—” Ellie pointed at her ears, shrugging as she stepped back, a smirk on her lips, retreating into the crowd “—I can’t hear you.”  

Rooster flipped her off, in an affectionate way, she assumed. “Sit and circumnavigate, Rigby.” 

With another laugh, Ellie turned and set her sights on the bar, squeezing her way through a grouping of zombies and a Michonne, who stood shoulder to shoulder with a Negan, complete with Lucille, tugging her scarf out of Zombie #1s grasp on the other side. 

The last tug, sharp and forceful, sent her stumbling over the tattered chiffon hem of the La Llorona’s dress at her back.  

Ellie braced for the rough landing as she attempted and failed to steady herself. She felt the fall in her stomach, the way it pitched as gravity pulled her down. She figured it served her right, the swift intervention of karma coming for her after she’d insulted its favourite pilot — Rooster was going to have an absolute field day over this. 

Ellie had been so lost in the idea of bracing for the impact of the ground, hard and sticky, she didn’t notice that she hadn’t fallen until she looked up and saw a lopsided smirk and green eyes, looking down at her. The realization there were hands hooked under her arms, holding her up came quickly after. 

“And here I was thinkin’ that Amelia Earhart had a reputation of staying upright.” The man was all smirk, dimples ghosting his cheeks, as Ellie blinked up at him, processing the situation. 

“Guess I’m overdue for a refresher course on emergency landings.” Ellie cleared her throat, righting herself with his help before she tugged her bomber jacket back into place. 

When she glanced up from her improved angle, Ellie could see just how striking he was—sharp jaw, confident eyes, and a natural swagger that suggested he knew it, suggested he knew women sized him up in more ways than one. 

“What are you drinking, Amelia?” 

“Nothing, yet.” 

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”  

The music pumped anew, the DJ spinning a Thriller remix, as she approached the bar, the presence of the man at her back as she weaved her way through the crowd. She could feel the hover of his hand at her lower back, ready to catch her if she took another tumble. She hadn’t been expecting much from the night—just a few drinks, maybe some small talk with Nic, a short discussion with Sophie on Chappell Roan’s representation of duality in the midwestern identity to prove that she’d come out and spent the appropriate amount of time there. But as she took the beer the bartender slid her way and the man leaned against the bar next to her, she couldn’t help but smile. She definitely hadn’t been expecting this. 

“Let me guess,” Ellie’s eyes scanned his costume then, taking a moment to take stock. Carefully, she scanned the skull patch, dagger in its teeth, VFA-151 stitched in below, the chevrons, patches, carefully piecing the images and small details of his costume together before she replied, eyebrow raised, “you’re a pilot—” she paused to sip her drink, her eyes falling on the patch on his bicep, “—Navy.”  

A grin pulled up the corner of his mouth as he gave her a slow once-over, a scan he didn’t bother to hide, before he leaned casually against the bar beside her. “Hangman,” he said with a smirk, and Ellie’s eyes dipped to the patch on his chest, the golden wings stitched above the call sign. “Best pilot you’ll ever meet.” 

She tilted her head, gaze sliding from his call sign back up to his face. “Best pilot, huh?” She gave him a once-over that was part skepticism, part intrigue. “You Navy guys really know how to sell it.” 

Ellie leaned into the bit hard. Tonight, she was Amelia, and he was Hangman, the name stitched into hundreds, if not thousands, of storebought costumes. If she were Navy, she might have been insulted. 

If he heard the skepticism in her tone, he ignored it and chuckled, not breaking eye contact as he matched her smirk. “Only because it’s true. Besides,” he said, letting his voice drop lower, “don’t have to sell anything when you’ve got it all.”  

Ellie raised an eyebrow, meeting his challenge head-on. “Big words for someone who still hasn’t proven a thing.”  

“Oh, don’t worry, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning in just close enough to lower his voice to a rumble, “I’m very good at proving myself.”  

She laughed softly, a glint in her eyes as she set her drink down. “Okay then, why don’t you start with this—” Ellie leaned in, her finger tapped lightly on the golden wings over his heart, her touch lingering. “Explain why they call you Hangman.”  

She waited, waited to see if he’d squirm, held his gaze and paused for the story that was sure to come. Some feeble attempt at role playing for an unpracticed character, just a call sign with no real bite, no real story.  

He smirked, clearly used to that question but still savoring her attention. “I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” he teased, straightening, “after all, you strike me as a curious type. And I’d hate to ruin the mystery.”  

Ellie chuckled, leaning back as she looked him over. That was his game, wasn’t it? A tennis match, a steady volley and lob. Two could play at that game. “Maybe I’ll get bored before I do.” Ellie added a shrug to punctuate her words for effect.  

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” His voice held a hint of challenge, his gaze lingering, his grin lazy but sharp. He straightened up, hand resting on the bar, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.  

“Guess we’ll see,” she murmured, lifting her drink to her lips, her gaze unwavering as she took another sip. She looked away for just a second, but not before she caught his confident grin widening.  

“Believe me,” he said with that maddening confidence of his as he leaned in, so close that his voice was low, the heat of his words warming the shell of her ear, “I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you entertained.”

Ellie had barely unlocked the front door to Nicole’s place when he was on her, his hands on her hips as he pressed her into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He kissed her like a man starved, his fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair at the base of her neck, anchoring her to him.  

This was the culmination of the barely veiled innuendos, the heavy-handed flirting that had gone on all evening.  

When he’d slipped out of the bar and onto the street with her, Ellie knew what would happen. He knew what would happen. She could tell in the way his eyes raked over her, all want, pupils blown wide. He wanted her and she wasn’t shy to admit, maybe not out loud, but to herself, that she wanted him too.  

“Maybe we should—” Ellie’s breath was uneven, her mouth missing his the moment they broke apart, just long enough for her to tip her head in the direction of the stairs.  

“Yeah—” his reply was equally breathy, his eyes on her lips even as she spoke, his tongue jutting out to whet his lips. A thrill shot through her, one that dipped low and pulsed between her legs.   

She was wet already, she could feel the slickness of herself, the material of her panties weighted with the evidence. In response, in a swift motion, he picked her up and Ellie instinctively spread her legs so that they framed his waist, her ankles locking at his low back. Ellie didn’t need to be told, she gripped him with her thighs, squeezing tight as he chuckled.   

“Good girl,” he smirked against her mouth before he kissed her again, deeply, his tongue pushing inside to taste hers.  

When they reached the top of the stairs, she broke from him only just long enough to give directions to her room in as few words as humanly possible, reaching out to grip the door frame of her room as he carried her down the hall and almost walked past it.  

Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he wasted no time in pressing her up against the wall. His fingers worried the buttons, slipped each from their place, starting from the bottom up as Ellie took her bomber jacket off, tossing it and the goggles to the floor before she joined him in working on the buttons from top down.  

“So many—” his breath came out with an edge of frustration and Ellie gave up on her buttons to tug the zip of his flight suit down to where her hips met his waist.    

“Just rip it,” Ellie huffed out, voice unsteady as his lips dipped to her neck, teeth grazing the spot where her collarbone met the base of her throat. One less thing between his mouth and her skin warranted the sacrifice of a shirt.  

He didn’t waste time, didn’t question and the sudden coolness on her skin and the sound of the buttons hitting the floor, scattered, had her grinning. She liked a man who followed orders. “You owe me a new shirt, Captain.”  

“Lieutenant,” his voice rumbled into her skin, making quick work of her bra next. By the time it hit the floor to join the other articles of clothing, his hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples, every pinch and pressure, every touch of his lips, every nip of his teeth sending surges of raw pleasure pulsing down.  

Ellie hated the way he ripped the sounds, raw, unabashed, desperate, from her. Hated how she’d folded under his smooth charm — she could have stopped it, could have said good night and left him at her door. Touched herself, alone, in bed, thinking about the way he’d been so eager to prove he was the best, picture how his touch would have felt, how he would have filled her as she coaxed herself over the edge and leave it at that.  

But she hadn’t, she’d wanted him —she’d own that. She wanted him to fuck her stupid. She could feel him, the hard outline of his cock pressing against her as he held her to him. 

“Easy, darlin’,” he chuckled lowly, rough around the edges as she shifted, reaching to touch him over top the Nomex. “We haven’t even started yet….”  

He was across to her bed in a few easy strides, carefully setting her back so that she sank into the pillows, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned over her, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze held hers, steady and unhurried, as he let his fingers trace lightly over the edge of her jaw, his index finger coming to rest under her chin, his thumb smudging her bottom lip.  

As his thumb traced her lip, smudging her lipstick, she caught his hand and pulled his index finger into her mouth, closing her lips around the digit, tongue tracing purposeful patterns as she slowly dragged it out. Her eyes never leaving his as he huffed out a heavy breath, a thrill running through her. 

“You should know that I have a rule, sweetheart.” He murmured, leaning over her so that his arms framed her, so close that his nose brushed hers as he spoke, his voice low, deep, edged by the hard edge of desire. “Ladies first.” 

Her pants were off quickly, leaving her in nothing but a whisp of material separating her from the man who wanted all of her. She heard the jingle of dog tags as he lifted the white shirt that had been under the flight suit over his head and abandoned it. 

Before she could sit up to see him, stripped down to his boxers, he was back on her, lower.  

Softly, he kissed her inner ankle, the next kiss trailing higher, her calf, another on the inside of her knee and the next, on her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him, she was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her core.  

She was a wreck, a hot, wet wreck and she was barely holding onto the part of her that was ready to beg him to touch her. The part of her that wanted all of him in a way that was driving her mad every moment he wasn’t touching her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was steady, measured as he touched her over her panties, his rough fingers brushing over the dampened spot of the material. The sound that left his lips, a quiet hissing intake of breath, told her he knew what he was doing to her, knew that he had her right where he wanted her.   

In response, Ellie writhed, sensitive to even the smallest brush and despite herself, a small moan left her lips, one she couldn’t have contained even if she had wanted to. What was the question again?  

He moved up from the altar between her legs, nipping a sensitive spot on her side where her ribs ended before he remedied it with a soft kiss, blazing a trail up her body with his mouth. Carefully, holding himself just above her, he bent to tease her nipple with his tongue, whetting the already hard peak, before he closed his lips around one and then moved to the other.  

Ellie was barely holding on, her vision edged with haze as he looked up to finally locked eyes with her. If he kept it up at this rate, he wouldn’t even need to fuck her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was husky, his body propped up over her as Ellie tried to order her thoughts, process them into coherent words. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”  

She could feel him against her thigh, hard, ready, the thin material of his boxers the only thing between her and all of him. There was some small satisfaction, a thrill that swept through her and coiled low in her stomach, that there was a part of him he was barely controlling a part of him that wanted to be inside of her now. The wet spot of precum on his underwear ghosted against her bare skin and she swore she could feel him twitch.  

Hangman, she’d asked at the bar, explain why they call you Hangman.   

Mystery solved.  

“I want—” she started, barely a whisper as he kissed the corner of her mouth, kissed her jawline, his fingers slipping under the top waistband of her panties as he continued to nip at the most sensitive spots on her neck.  

“You want…?” He prompted, waiting, even as his hand slipped lower, slow, calculated.   

“I want you to—,” Ellie lifted her head and muffled her moan into his shoulder as his fingers found her slick clit, massaging lazy circles, steady, calm, “Mmm.” Her nails bit into the muscles on his back as her head fell to the pillow, arching into his touch.  

“Guess, it is then.” He murmured, that infuriating smirk in his words as he pulled his hand away from her slick, stopping the steady rhythm she’d just gotten used to. She whined after the loss, but he didn’t give her much time to mourn before he was down between her legs again, his fingers dragging her panties off.  

Swiftly, he pulled her to the bottom of the bed, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Ellie gasped, her hips bucking up into his tongue as he swept it up through her folds. Calmly, as she inched closer to unravelling completely, ascending the slope at dizzying speed, he gripped her hips, controlling her movements as she pressed down against his mouth. 

She could feel the pressure building with every expert movement of his tongue over her, through her. Reaching down, she combed her fingers through his hair, gripped into it and tugged him over, directing him to her need.  

“Oh, god….” Ellie whined, the words just barely words as they dissolved into a moan, her free hand gripping the mess of sheets underneath her.  

“Hangman’s fine, gorgeous.” The response was quick, cocky. The response of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her and taking his time. 

“Wait,” Ellie’s hips chased after his mouth, a groan on her lips as she threw her arm across her eyes. “Don’t stop—.”

He was torturing her now, bringing her just to the edge and then allowing her to come down just enough to bring her back up again. He was fucking good and he knew it. It was going to drive her insane with want. 

“You have to say please, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath on her inner thigh almost too much, carefully, he touched her with his thumb, a light pressure as he teased her. Ellie could hear the smirk in his words.  

Words. What were words? Ellie's mind was short-circuiting. Short-circuited, past tense. Already gone. Wires crossed— leads jammed in the wrong place, signals crossed.     

She hadn’t wanted to fall apart under his touch so easily, she'd wanted to seem like she wasn’t desperate for him, but his touch was a warm fire on a cold night.    

“Ple—fuck,” Ellie moaned, her words dragged out, long and torturous as she felt his thick fingers slip inside her, slow and deliberate.     

She didn’t even know his real name, wasn’t even sure if she could manage to say it even if she did. He was undoing her carefully, piece by piece, sensation by sensation, she was malleable under his touch.    

“What was that darlin’?”    

Ellie might have been embarrassed at the squelch of her wetness as his fingers stroked in and out, excruciatingly measured, but she couldn't think about anything. Just the way he filled her while still leaving her wanting more, more, more.    

“Please—” her nerves crackled like livewires as she moaned, her hips moving against his fingers with each stroke, her movements almost involuntary, the wild need in her chasing the high, just out of reach.     

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” his voice was husky, lower now. He gripped her hip, holding her, steadying her rhythm before he added another thick finger, three deep in her now, his thumb moving in circles around her swollen clit.    

“Jesus,” he breathed, taking a moment before his mouth dipped to her hot center, alternating between sucking and the slow caressing tip of his tongue, creating just the right amount of excruciatingly perfect sensation, his fingers stroking and curling inside her. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Might not—” 

He might not fit. She finished his words in her mind, a secondary thought, one that made her mad with want. 

She breathed through the sensations, jolted and writhed as his pumping digits searched for the spot that made her see stars. She felt drunk, high, soaring, just on the edge of release, her muscles aching to reach the peak before she tumbled over, completely undone.    

When she finally broke, her back arching off the mattress, her hips grinding harder into his hand, she moaned into her forearm to muffle the sound. 

That air of self–assured cockiness he carried himself with at the bar, the swagger. It was all well–earned, she was coming to realize. Pun intended. 

“You know what they call a pilot with at least five confirmed air-to-air kills?” His voice was low as he drew his fingers from her, slipping his arm behind her still arched back as he leaned over her, his heavy cock pressing up against her throbbing pussy through his boxers, hard, ready.  

She was hyper aware that she still wanted him, inside her, filling her, spreading her to her limit in a unique mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Hmm—Ace?” Ellie’s mind was still hazy, vignetted around the edges as her heart hammered against her ribs. 

It happened in a moment, a quick change of position, as he lifted and turned, positioning himself under her so she straddled him. Smooth and calculated, precise and fast, an expert maneuver.  

Ellie could feel her bare wetness against him, her hands bracing on his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath her touch. In the dim light of the room, she could see the glint of his dog tags hanging off to the side, a small detail of his costume she wished she might have looked at before, in the bar.  

“Ace.” He smirked up at her before he shifted her hips up and he pulled her down over his face. 

Ellie gripped the steering wheel tightly, the worn pleather creaking under her hands as she leaned forward and angled the rearview mirror sharply so she could get a better look.   

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed, her fingers hovering just over the purple mark on her neck, just above her collarbone. How she hadn’t noticed it in the mirror this morning, she wasn’t quite sure.  

“Seriously? A fucking hickey?” She was already digging around in her purse as she huffed, her fingers blindly searching for the concealer she knew wouldn’t be there because she could see it in her mind’s eye, sitting on the edge of the porcelain countertop in her ensuite bathroom. “Are we fourteen?”  

This was definitely topping her list of things she didn’t need her first day on a new job site, especially not Miramar.  

When Ellie had woken up that morning, the sun barely peeking through the half-shut blinds, she wasn’t surprised that she was alone in bed. There was no note, no forgotten sock, no evidence, save for the dull ache between her legs and a tender, purple love bite on the inside of her right thigh as evidence that last night had even happened.  

That was what one-night stands were though, right? One night.  

Even under the hot stream of water from the shower in the ensuite though, Ellie closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back, only shaking herself from the thought of him when the alarm from her phone buzzed it right off the counter.   

Groaning, Ellie blew out a noisy breath, abandoning the purse search when she found nothing other than a stray mint.  

Guess today was going to be a hair down kind of day.  

It wasn't the look she normally felt comfortable with on military bases with all the formality of rank and protocol, but she was a civilian contractor, it was unlikely anyone would notice. Hair down was better than the talk that might follow her around if anyone saw the mark on her neck.  

Sighing, Ellie pulled the pins out of the bun she’d spent her morning perfecting and allowed her hair, dark, still damp and wavy from the shower, to fall around her shoulders. Carefully, she pulled the tresses forward, over the rouged mark on her skin, peeking just out from under the collar of her white blouse.  

It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do in a pinch. She made a quick mental note to head off base on break to stop at a CVS to grab some concealer before she twisted the rearview mirror back into place.  

Tony Cudmore, the Crew Staffing Supervisor she had been coordinating with solely through email before now, was already waiting for her just outside the gates, his eyes on his wristwatch as Ellie approached. “Rigby, glad to have you on board. Heard we snagged you from your work on base in Turkey.”  

“Yeah, well. When Uncle Sam comes knocking, right?” Ellie snagged a tress of her hair as it lifted from her shoulder in the wind, carefully patting it back into place.  

“Don’t I know it,” Tony chuckled, his white, push broom straight moustache blustering as he waved at the officer stationed in the booth by the gate before he scanned his security pass. “How’s your old man?”  

“Ah, you know the type, Tony.” 

Ellie had perfected the art of sidestepping questions about her dad and Tony didn’t push further, seemingly content with the non-answer. 

As they reached the security clearance office, Tony slid a few documents under the glass and Ellie stepped up in front of a camera, the flash going off quickly before she had a chance to adjust.  

Whoever thought DMV photos were bad had clearly never had their photo taken by a Naval Officer a few months away from retirement.  

“Given name?” The man behind the glass murmured, so low that Ellie had to strain and lean toward the hole at the bottom of the glass to hear him.  

“Eleanor.” 

“We have a lot of work here that could really benefit from your expertise. The boys are flying Super Hornets nowadays, so the tech is good, but the improvements from your research could really give ‛em the edge.” Tony continued at her side, distractedly flipping through emails on his phone as he waited, “Now of course, those Super Hornets are far and away from the Tomcats your dad would have been flying in his heyday here, let me tell you….”  

“Surname?”  

“Neven - but you can just put Rigby.” It was Ellie’s turn to murmur now, edging closer to the slot in the glass, her voice just loud enough to be heard over Tony’s absent chatter behind her.  

The Security Officer paused, fanning out Ellie’s passport and glancing up at her for a moment, eyebrow raised before he punched something into the computer. She offered him a tight smile a beat too late.  

When the man slid her the newly printed security pass, Ellie’s eyes scanned for any sign of the hickey and was thankful that, though her hair looked like a bird's nest and her eyes were half-closed in mid-blink, at least the hickey wasn’t memorialized in her security pass.  

As they stepped out of the security office, Tony untucked a manila folio from under his arm and passed it to Ellie as they walked. “I’ll take you around. Give you your bearings. You’ll be working with the tower crew lots. Some good people up there.”  

They were out of the outbuilding now, Ellie’s heels clicking across the tarmac, past the line of F18s lined up on the hardtop and gleaming in the early morning California sun.  

“The ground crew might ask for some help with the planes, so you’ll be in the hangars. I’ll take you for a quick flyby,” Tony chuckled to himself, pleased with the pun, “we’ll pick up the tour after since the meeting with Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Stark is at 0900 sharp and those suits don’t mess around.”   

Tony’s strides were long, and it took Ellie a moment to jog after him, catching up just in time for him to open the door for her.    

“If you’re not five minutes early—” Ellie started, half playing into the old Navy saying she had grown up hearing as she slipped into the hangar.  

The nostalgic scent of jet fuel and oil hit Ellie hard in the closed space — it didn’t seem to matter how long she did this, how long she worked around planes and crews, in different countries, different airfields, this part never changed. Part of that was comforting in an odd way. It felt like home to her. 

Tony snapped his fingers in response, the sound of agreement. Tony opened his mouth to speak when a loud peel of laughter echoed in the closed space. Tony glanced at his watch, confused for a moment before his face turned toward Ellie, excited. “Oh, well, will you look at that, lucky you, we’ve got some of our Flyboys here. Must have some free time before drills.”    

Ellie followed a few steps behind Tony as he rounded the front of a line of Super Hornets, a spring in his step. As they approached, she took in the group of aviators in their flight suits from a distance, casually talking and laughing — and then her stomach twisted, her gait faltering for a moment. 

There, leaning against one of the jets, was the last person she expected to see again, let alone here: Hangman.

He looked almost exactly as he had last night, though somehow the daylight amplified everything about him— his height, the confident set of his shoulders. He turned, mid-laugh and Ellie watched as his eyes caught on her, like he recognized her for a fraction of a second before the look was gone just as quickly. 

Hangman’s easy smile shifted when he saw her, an eyebrow shooting up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression settled into something like amusement.

The last time she’d seen that look, she’d been over top of him, hovering, before he pulled her down over his mouth greedily, his tongue painting pictures over her most sensitive nerve endings as she moaned. She was pretty sure she’d broken one of her fingernails as she gripped the headboard, biting into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood, his other hand reaching up to cup her breast roughly.  

Yet here he was now, in the light of day, truly in his element, looking like he belonged here as much as the jets around him. 

Ellie felt her heart kick up a notch, a reaction she’d hoped she’d managed to stow away. She forced herself to play it cool, lifting her chin slightly as they neared the group. She didn’t have a choice – there was no running from this. The consequences of her own actions coming back around to haunt her. 

“Hangman, Payback, Harvard,” Tony greeted, nodding to him and the other pilots. “Good to see you guys. Just giving our new radar tech a tour.” 

Ellie felt her pulse quicken as his gaze slid back to her. He wasn’t going to say anything, right? They were strangers here, well, coworkers now. She wasn’t Amelia Earhart, and he wasn’t the pilot from the party, except, he very clearly was and Ellie had miscalculated, mis-stepped. A TOPGUN pilot no less. 

As she held his gaze, she could see the recognition flickering behind his eyes. He knew exactly who she was, but his mask didn’t slip, not for a second. 

“This is—”  

“Rigby. Eleanor.” Ellie interrupted Tony sharply. The introduction as herself, not as Amelia, would be on her own terms. At least she could control that. Here, at Miramar, she was Eleanor Rigby. 

“Welcome to the team, Rigby,” he said smoothly, holding out a hand as if they hadn’t already met in the most intimate of ways. The way he said her name sounded off, like he was testing it out in the context of their previous… encounter. 

Ellie held her breath, pausing only a moment before she forced herself to shake his hand. “Thanks,” she replied coolly, her voice even, though she was silently praying for the ground to swallow her whole. She refused to let him get the upper hand. Not here, not in front of people she had to work with.  

His grip was firm, his eyes amused. Ellie caught the brief flicker of his gaze to her neck, his eyes resting where Ellie knew she’d tried to hide the hickey, admiring his work, likely.    

Tony chuckled, oblivious to the tension. “Lieutenant Seresin’s one of the best we’ve got. You’ll probably end up working on his bird now and then.”  

Ellie forced a smile, though she could feel the bottom of her stomach drop out and she cleared her throat in an attempt to press down the nervous, incredulous laugh that threatened to escape her. Technically, she’d worked on it last night, right?   

“Looking forward to it,” she said instead, even though the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near him right now.  

He released her hand, stepping back into the group of pilots. “Catch you around, Rigby” he said casually, before turning back to his crew, who began to stalk off, out of the large open hangar doors, not looking back.  

“Anyway, you’ll be working here between—” Tony continued, oblivious. 

Ellie let out a breath as Tony waved at her to follow him, continuing the tour. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on Tony’s voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of Hangman’s eyes on her or the memory of last night still lingering between them. This complicated things. This really complicated things. 

At least he’d set a standard: he didn’t know her and Ellie was only happy to play along with that pretense. She didn’t know him either. At least, that’s the story she was sticking to. 

The fluorescent lights in the conference room felt harsher than usual, and Ellie shifted uncomfortably as Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Ingrid Stark watched her closely, their expressions unreadable.  

Standing before two of the Navy’s highest-ranking officers, Ellie tried to steady her breath, tried to ignore the slow trickle of panic coursing through her. The same panic that churned the small bit of breakfast she’d managed to eat while maneuvering in and out of San Diego traffic all the way to North Island.  

All she had to do was focus, recenter her mind on the presentation. The presentation that culminated the last three years of her career, it was important, she knew – it had been the sole focus of her work in Turkey and yet, here she was, hiding that stupid hickey and thinking about the man who made it. Thinking about how he looked at her in the hangar not but twenty minutes ago, a glance exchanged that held a shared secret between them as he took her hand and treated her like a stranger. Cool, calm, collected, all charm.  

It was the same easy charisma she’d leaned into just last night, at the Halloween party, blissfully unaware of who he really was. Except now she knew he’d been telling the truth the whole damn time and she’d just called his bluff wrong. And now, now with all those thoughts running through her mind at Mach 2, she was standing here, in front of the highest-ranking personnel on base, expected to deliver a groundbreaking presentation on her research, trying to ignore the lingering flush of that unexpected run-in this morning.  

Ellie cleared her throat, tightening her grip on her tablet as she began walking the Admirals through her research. Running through her practiced script, she carefully outlined her new detection algorithm—a project that had garnered their attention in the first place, the same work that had pulled her back here, to Miramar.   

Truthfully, if they’d asked any probing questions, Ellie would have to confess that the technology was in its earliest stages but had the potential to counteract enemy jamming of GPS signals. In theory (because that was the key word theory), the algorithm she’d developed, on paper, had the potential to become an un-jammable navigation system.  

Ellie clicked through to the next slide, “The reason this algorithm has the potential to give our pilots the advantage is because the enemy would have -”  

You have to say please, sweetheart. 

The memory from last night, his words a steady command, sent a pulse through her, from her chest, down into her core, where it settled, hot and pulsing. 

Ellie’s voice caught in her throat, and she coughed, before holding up her index finger and pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher at the head of the table. Quietly she sipped the water, her eyes landing outside the window at the tarmac as ground crew guided an F18 out of the hangar. She waited for a beat, measuring her sips as she calmed down. 

Get your shit together, Rigby. She coached herself, draining the last of the water as she caught Admiral Simpson checking his watch from the corner of her eye. You are not going to screw this up because you had sex last night.    

Incredible sex.     

The best sex you've had in the last two years... possibly in your entire life.    

Top tier sex... with your new co-worker. Who just so happens to fall into the off-limits category. 

If she could have shaken her head without it seeming strange, she would have, but she suspected she was getting into foot tapping territory. With Admirals, time was money. 

“I’m sorry, as I was saying—” Ellie straightened her blazer, setting the glass down and resuming her presentation, determined.      

When she finished, Admiral Simpson leaned back, giving her a thoughtful once-over as he drummed his fingers on the folder containing her research on the table in front of him. “Well, Ms. Neven,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The best of the best. That’s what they told me about you. I suppose that must run in the family.”  

The weight of the comment hit her immediately, and her mind reeled again. This time for an entirely different reason. She hadn’t anticipated Rick’s reputation coming up so soon—or at all.  

She managed a quick nod, hoping it looked confident. “Thank you, sir,” she said, barely keeping her voice steady.  

Simpson’s smile deepened. “When we saw you were one of the top minds in the field, it was a no-brainer to bring you in for this project. Your research is intriguing.” His gaze softened slightly, just enough to give her a glimpse of the man behind the rank and she wondered if, for half a second, it had anything to do with the fact that he had a daughter her age. “You’re going to do great things here. Your dad’ll be proud, no doubt.”  

Ellie nodded again, murmuring her thanks, feeling an odd pressure bubbling under the surface. Truthfully, she had expected some bluster about her family, some comments about her father and his Radar Intercept Officer being wingmen for the late Fleet Commander Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. She hadn’t expected it this soon. 

“Admiral Stark and I will take a look over your documentation and see how best to get the testing started. I trust you’ll let us know if you need anything in the meantime?” Admiral Simpson stood then, and an Officer stationed outside the boardroom opened the door from the outside.  

The meeting adjourned, and as everyone began to filter out, Ellie felt herself unraveling by the second, anxiety pushing its way to the forefront. She wanted to scream or laugh, possibly both. Instead, she was rooted in place, unable to decide whether to escape to the nearest empty room or brace herself against the wall and breathe. If she didn’t leave this room for the rest of the day, what were the chances she’d run into him again? Probably slim. 

This was her first day here. The first day and she was thinking about how she’d been laid bare and fucked out of her mind by a man she’d never thought she’d see again, much less work with. All in the middle of one of the most important presentations of her entire life, in front of the people who could make that research into something tangible, a finished product, a cornerstone of new technology in aviation, a reality.   

The lights in the boardroom automatically flicked off and Ellie sighed, gathering up the last of her things before exiting the room. She could hide in the women’s bathroom, right? 

“Ms. Neven.” RADM Stark’s voice approaching from the hallway behind her startled Ellie. As she turned, Ellie watched as Stark appraised her with a mix of curiosity and approval. “Impressive work. It’s good to have some estrogen in the room for once.” Her lips curled into a slight smirk, and Ellie let out the measured breath she’d been holding.  

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m—excited to work here,” Ellie's voice was a little steadier now, a bit of genuine enthusiasm breaking through her nerves as she reminded herself why she was here in the first place. Her work. Her career. Her tech.  

Stark raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, producing a small stick of concealer from a crisp tan pant pocket. She held Ellie’s gaze, a message or a warning behind her cool eyes, Ellie couldn’t be sure, as the ranked Officer handed the makeup to Ellie. “I think we might be the same shade.”   

Ellie’s heart stuttered as the realization hit her, broad-sided. Her hand shot to her neck before she could think, the heat in her cheeks flaring brighter than before as she accepted the concealer, mumbling a mortified thank-you.  

Stark gave her a knowing smile, a curt little nod as she tapped the side of her nose, before walking away, her stride as calm and confident as when she’d approached.    

Ellie waited until the RADM was clear from sight before making a beeline for the bathroom, practically stumbling into the mirror over the sink. She tilted her head to confirm what she already knew was there: a very visible, very damning mark on her neck. The scarlet letter.   

Great.    

She didn’t waste a second applying RADM Stark’s concealer, muttering under her breath as she blended it carefully with the tips of her fingers, dabbing. “One day at Miramar, Ellie. One day.”    

As she swiped on the secondary layer of concealer for good measure, she felt the rush of everything hit her again. The tension of the presentation, the equal parts pride and pressure from the Admiral’s praise, and him—Lieutenant Seresin, Hangman, with his easy, cocky grin and the piercing eyes that, despite everything, she could still feel on her.  

tags: @mrsevans90 , @avengersfan25 , @hookslove1592

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[that-was-a-bit-stupid-of-you]

I don't understand, what's going on with Taylor and Matt trash being a couple? Could you explain to me?

nothing is really going on at the moment tbh, cuz they broke up a pretty long while ago, but the issue is the album (if that's what you're referring to) and taylor swift herself.

[will add sources and more stuff when I find the links and if I realise I missed something out, cuz this is a general thing based off of memory]

Context: dating history

Basically she and matty had been friends for a few years (there are rumors of them hooking up ig in 1989 era maybe, but I don't really care enough to believe shit like that). Apparently he had also been pining for her (according to stuff he said in interviews and tweets) for years, but again, you can still chalk it up to rumors if you wanna.

The thing is that post her breakup with joe alwyn, she started dating him (in like april I think) [there had been dating rumors of them since 2014 tho, and again in March 2023] and the fandom kinda got divided.

Here is the link to their entire timeline

Context: what matty healy did

Matty healy (you prolly know this) is basically racist, sexist, antisemitic, homophobic and God knows what else I have missed out or not been aware of. He did shit like doing the nazi gesture on stage, mocking asian accents, tastelessly making fun of ice spice on her race and bodyshaming her, laughing and basically confirming that he watches violent rape porn of black women on a site that is known to be highly problematic and force their actors (gender neutral) to do things they dont consent to (there was also an actress who was assaulted or something but im not informed on it). Even when he was called out on stuff like this, he accused people (who were poc, btw) of overreacting.

Context: taylor and activism

Taylor had also, in the past (lover era, and miss Americana the doc) had talked about how she had been too quiet about political issues and politics itself for too long, that she understands her influence and power in society, and that she "needs to be on the right side of history" and even specifics such as that she thinks it's spineless to go on stage and say "happy pride month" and not acknowledge the political oppression that queers in USA were facing (something about a bill or the republican party idk man I'm not american, i dont remember but i did research when i watched the doc tho). She has claimed she was gonna be clear about where she stands (many republicans had considered her to be one, and many thought she's conservative or something, but she was always quiet about it, until the lover era). However, she just stopped that activism after the lover era, and went back to being quiet on where she stands (I've seen many swifties refer to the lover era as the activism era) and hasn't spoken about anything substantial really. She did some things like post a black square with 13 hearts during blm, and stuff that every celeb who wasn't openly a pos did, but that's kinda it. Even as a self proclaimed feminist, she didn't speak up on issues such as roe v wade, or about an issue regarding drag queens despite having them in yntcd, or talking about trans/queer rights until she was in a blue state (im not an American, I just like to keep up a little with stuff in usa cuz it's always up in my face sadly, and thus i cant be specific, but anyways, correct me if I'm wrong, or if I missed something).

So even after saying she'll be vocal, she was just... not. And that's basically her on politics or giving a shit about minority communities.

Context: Fandom's reaction

Swifties were extremely disappointed that taylor CHOSE to associate with a man like this, and there were fans calling her out, and she received backlash, too.

Most of these swifties were poc (myself included) and they felt hurt that an artist that they not just supported and developed such a deep connection with, but also financially supported for years, would have such disregard for them. Not just was she dating him, but she kept saying things such as "I have never been happier in all aspects of my life" or saying "I love you" or "uk who you are" in romantic songs on the tour, which was just adding insult to injury. She also did a collab with ice spice (which was completely out of nowhere, and the collab itself seemed badly made and rushed), which fans and others speculated to be a pr cover up for the fact that matty healy had mocked her (many ppl also believed that it was too quick for it to be a pr cover tho).

Now, in the fandom, when poc swifties were calling her out on dating mh, (mostly) white swifties started harassing poc swifties for doing so, or saying that they are hindering with her happiness or some bs about it being "just a fling" (again, myself included). They said it's the same as seeing a friend get out of a long-term relationship and make bad dating choices, and poc swifties should let it go (as if taylor is our close personal friend). In a mostly white fandom, poc swifties felt alienated and sidelined.

Ofc, taylor never addressed any of this backlash, and after she broke up with him, there were articles saying that sources say (which mostly means her pr team atp) that her breakup had nothing to do with his controversies or behavior.

The album release (lyrics, references and reaction)

Now, with the release of ttpd, contrary to what most of the fandom believed, most of the songs on both the albums are believed to be (and heavily hinted on) about matty healy. These include 4 songs- "ttpd", "but daddy I love him", "I can fix him (no really I can)", and "guilty as sin?"

Ttpd, the title track, talks about mh being "a tattooed golden retriever" (wtf) and about him love-bombing her, and her pining after him, thinking about marriage and shit. But daddy I love him and I can fix him, are basically that no one supported her dating decision and she's claiming that she loves him oh so goddamn much, but more importantly, her talking about her fans' reactions. Specifically, describing her poc fans to be "vipers" and "judgemental creeps" who hate her and them being hurt as "bitching and moaning", and basically took the side of the (white) fans who defended her, indirectly. She described his racist bs as "crazy" and said shit like she could "handle a dangerous man." She also has another song, "Guilty as sin?" and while I genuinely don't give a fuck about what she chooses to do in her private life, unless it is problematic, it is about her fantasizing about being with that racist man while being in a long term relationship with joe alwyn. She sings about how she wants him and wants to be with him... in multiple ways, iykyk. Again, out of context, I love this song so much, but that doesn't erase the context, right?

She also has a song "I hate it here" where she says the following lines:

"My friends used to play a game where

We would pick a decade

We wished we could live in instead of this

I'd say the 1830s but without all the racists and getting married off for the highest bid"

And while there are many reasons why this line by itself is racist (romantisization of a time that was extremely shitty to many communities, most of which she is not a part of, showing herself to be "oh look I'm so woke I still remember the bad things even when I romanticize bad eras in history" which is something you expect from an ignorant white high schooler maybe, not a 34 y/o billionaire who claims to be well-read, etc.) but taylor swift herself saying these is adding insult to injury cuz she has shown time and time again she has no problem with racism (she kept quiet when antonia gentry, a black actress, received hate and racist threats by swifties because of a line BY NETFLIX that taylor didn't like, and she shouldn't ofc, but it wasn't the actress' fault), or associating herself with them (matty healy, for example). It is hypocritical to write something like that after writing an album about pining after a man and his "dangerousness," which is just bigotry. Way to romanticise racism, sexism, and antisemitism, taylor.

Even now, after listening to the album, she clearly doesn't like mh anymore, NOT because of his actions, but because he broke her heart, showing that she still enables and is okay with everything he did.

And that's kind of it (ig) about her and matty healy. I'm not really sure exactly which part you wanted to know, so this is just a gist of it all. Hope it helps :)

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 1: "La détermination qui coule dans mes veines"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: While the other ladies have grown with the mindset of marrying and having children, you, as the daughter of a man who wanted a son, grew up being both. You learnt how to embroider, play the pianoforte, fence and manage the estate. However, there were some things that not even the Duke of Burgundy could do, so after he passed and you thought there was nothing left for you, you decided to move to London for a while and go to the Royal Academy of Art.

Nothing was going to keep you from what you wanted, and you would do whatever it takes: you would lie to everyone, you would live to death, you would pretend to be a man. You had a plan and it would be a piece of cake for you. But again, when has something that she wants and should not do easy for a woman? Especially when a man like Benedict Bridgerton gets in the way in more ways than one.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, love triangles (but not really), lgbtq+ themes, bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: Going to London was an easy decision though a difficult change, but nothing was going to stop you from getting what you wanted, and what you wanted was to go to Art School. For now, you only had to arrive and attend whatever event your godmother told you to. The only good thing that came from all of it, was that you reunited with a dear old friend of the family.

Word count: 2.9K

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You knew you would leave for London for a while. You had made the decision, you had sent the letter, you had packed the suitcases, but you were yet to announce your departure.

The possibility of being stopped by your cousin was higher than the mountains, and in order to avoid it, you would only let him know about your trip to London the day before you left. However, his plans did not leave you the chance to.

Running away was not easy because everything you have keeps you attached to that piece of land that belongs to you, that is your father's legacy and your responsibility to keep alive.

Not a change was easy for any human, and you wouldn't be the exception.

So you looked at yourself in the mirror, hesitation long gone after minutes of silence.

You didn't know how to do it, you just hoped for the best of fates as the scissors cut short your dampened hair. No hairdresser would give you the cut you wished for, the one you needed, so you had to do it yourself.

After a quick glance at the packed suitcases and the room that will remain vacant for a pair of months at least, you put on the black cloak and ran away.

The determination ran through your veins just like you were running through the hallways of the Château de Germolles, it has been doing so since the moment your father passed because there was nothing left for you at home if you did not have a man by your side saying the opposite. Certainly, your cousin replaced your father as the lord of the house, but he has never given you any sort of security in your own home. Two years have passed, and you would wait no more.

"Lady Y/N," le Seigneur Cartier, your father's right hand, interrupted your path. "Are you entirely sure about this?"

"Lord Carrington is expecting me, Seigneur Cartier," you answered. "And I have never been more sure about anything in my life."

He nodded, helping you get inside the carriage. "I will send you letters weekly."

"I will be expecting them," He closed the carriage door, and you peeked through its window. "I trust you to honor my father's wishes while I am gone."

Cartier nodded and made a gesture for the carriage to start, and you looked at the Château for the last time in God knows how long.

"One day until we arrive in Calais, one hour to Dover and seven hours to London," Antoinette, your maid, commented with a tired sigh. "Lady Y/N, are you sure about this journey?"

"I am sure, and I would appreciate it very much if all of you just stopped asking me that," you stated, annoyance slipping through your voice. "I am to be received by Lord Carrington, my godfather, and I will live in London for however long it takes."

"They are not in the Social Season, or so I have heard." You pursed your lips.

"I am not looking to marry as of now, my wish is to fall in love, Antoinette, because whoever is to be my husband must love me dearly before I display my everything to him. There shall be love, trust… He must be a man capable of ruling, not some mere lord. I will not hurry, and a specific time of the year will not stop me from finding a reliable husband. And I am not here to find a husband either way."

"I apologize, Lady Y/N."

The following hours were ruled by silence, there was little to no sentence said even during the hours of rest before continuing the lengthened voyage. No thing other than instructions were told during the two days and a half that it took to arrive in Lord Carrington's mansion.

It was bigger than you remembered, but again, the last time you were there was about ten years ago.

You were welcomed inside, not without looking around and admiring the art your godfather was a fanatic of.

"Oh, Lady Y/N! You have grown so much! You are a ravishing young lady, dear," Lady Carrington exclaimed, taking your hands in hers with a smile. Her loud nature was always remarkable, annoying to most but adored to you. "Hugh, darling! Lady Y/N just arrived!"

Lord Carrington appeared in the room with a smile that matched his wife's, an exuberant chuckle as he saw you. "Dear Heavens, you look just like your Mama!"

You laughed tiredly. "I am grateful to you, Lord and Lady Carrington, for welcoming me into your home. I had been setting my heart on spending some time here in London."

"So were we," he noted with a nod.

"Hmm, you must be dead tired, my dear. Let me show you your room for your stay." Lady Carrington motioned you to follow her.

"I am indeed, thank you," You smiled, to then announce your departure. " Excusez-moi."

You followed her through the infinite hallways and endless words, hearing her talk about the ball they were invited to just last week and the one they will host in five days.

"Did you bring ball gowns with you, my dear?" she asked you. "You must attend the ball as our guest of honor."

"I could not fit much in these suitcases, Lady Carrington," you replied. "However, I figured you could take me to the modiste soon. I will pay whatever the price is for some Paris here in London."

She smiled. "The modiste, Madame Delacroix, is French, my dear! I shall take you there tomorrow first thing in the morning."

"It is a plan, then, Lady Carrington."

"Perfect, dear," She nodded. "Rest, I will have someone wake you up for dinner. Tomorrow, in the afternoon, you will accompany me to Lady Danbury's for tea. She is a lovely woman, you will get along pretty well, I am certain!"

"I'd be honored."

"There is a lot of catching up to do, my Lady," she commented. "I had not seen you in a year."

"Not many remarkable events in my life, but I sure will have thought of one by the time we speak," you complied. "Uh, I was wondering when, and if, I could join Lord Carrington to the Royal Academy of Art."

"Well, that you must converse with him." She smiled and left your room.

You quickly changed your clothes to your nightgown, and fell asleep in less than a minute.

"Bonjour !"

You smiled politely at the woman who greeted you and Lady Carrington. " Bonjour, ça va ?"

"Very well, merci." she replied. "I am afraid we have not been introduced yet. Madame Delacroix, enchantée."

"Lady Y/N Voclain," you nodded slightly. "Êtes-vous française ? Lady Carrington m'a dit."

"Oh, speak in English, dear," Lady Carrington commanded. "Some of us don't speak French."

"Of course, I apologize," you chuckled slightly. "Lady Y/N Voclain, enchanted as well… Lady Carrington told me you were French, Madame, that is what I was asking."

Madame Delacroix just smiled. "Oui, indeed. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"My dearest Lady Y/N of Burgundy, always so modest… She is the daughter of the late Duke of Burgundy," Lady Carrington informed, and you nodded uncomfortably. You did not want people to know about your title during your stay in London, but perhaps it was inevitable. "Her dresses must reflect her greatness."

You approached the table where many colorful fabrics were displayed. "I will have one red that matches the rubies my Grandfather sent from their mines in the Americas, as well as some in different shades of green for the emeralds. Oh, for the ball I will have a white one with gold here and there… I would adore embroidered flowers but not too many, crystals, sequins, your finest silks," you explained everything you wanted in your dresses. "I trust you entirely, Madame. I want them unique, no one else will have the same dress, not even a similar one. I am willing to pay the price. Eight dresses for now, and the urgency is the dress for the ball. Do not disappoint me."

"Bien sûr," she replied with a nod. You raised your eyebrow at the odd pronunciation, but ignored her. "The length of your hair will be a challenge, Lady Y/N."

"Yes. Why did you cut it, dear?"

"Uh… I-" The bell saved you as its sound announced the arrival of a woman and her three daughters, calling for Madame Delacroix.

"I will be right back." she promised, and left you and Lady Carrington alone.

"Lord Carrington agreed to take you to the Academy tomorrow."

You smiled widely, making her curve her lips. "Oh, that is wonderful news, Lady Carrington! I am beyond grateful!"

"He wants your portrait painted, Lady Y/N, so it seems that you will spend many hours there."

"I am eager to!" you exclaimed.

She gave you a look you couldn't quite decipher, but if there was something you recognized in it, it was a threat. "Careful with the artists, Lady Y/N… We would not want you involved with any of them."

"Oh," You frowned. "I- I will not-"

"I know, dear… A lady like you has nothing to do with men like them, you deserve a man of title, with a surname that speaks for himself."

"Can't there be both?" you wondered out loud and she chuckled dryly.

"Those men spend their nights in clubs and brothels, and will certainly not stop doing so after marrying. Poor Lady Goldwyn, married to an artist who had a bastard child before having hers… Never at home, I got lucky with Hugh, but God forbid you stumble upon a similar fate."

You gave her an amused glance. "I know I can make a suitable pick."

"He must be rich, dear, how else will you afford living the life you always have had?" she commented. "A true gentleman, one that respects you and loves you dearly. If he has brothers or sisters it will be ideal, that way you will know he is a man of his family… Oh, Her Majesty, the Queen has a nephew, a prince, she brought to London last season, maybe he is still an eligible bachelor."

"A prince?" you questioned, surprised.

"The Prince of Prussia, my dear. I suppose that is a man worthy of a duke's daughter."

A laugh left your lips. "Do you truly believe that he would be interested in courting me, Lady Carrington?"

"Oh, he most certainly would!"

"Seeing is believing, then." You chuckled.

While you and Lady Carrington were talking, Madame Delacroix's clients struck up a conversation.

"I have never seen that lady before, who is her?" Lady Featherington questioned, seconded by her two daughters.

"Lady Y/N of Burgundy, daughter of the Duke of Burgundy," she replied. "She is French, a relative of the Carringtons."

"Oh, you two should befriend her! The Carrington ball is next week and we have not received our invitation yet."

"You are right, Mama," Prudence agreed. "I will go now."

Both sisters approached you and Lady Carrington, gaining a look full of disdain from the latter.

They introduced themselves, and their mother soon joined.

"We would be delighted to have you this afternoon for tea, Lady Y/N."

"I am afraid there is no empty spot in my schedule for now, but I will make sure to let you know once I am available." you replied after noticing Lady Carrington's discomfort.

"Well then." Lady Featherington nodded, and so did you. Then, she looked at Lady Carrington with a slight smile and disappeared.

"That woman is insufferable!" your godmother yelled.

Then you couldn't contain your laughter.

"Lady Carrington!"

"Oh, Lady Danbury!"

You both stood up as she entered the room, and you greeted her with a smile.

"This is Lady Y/N of Burgundy, she is my guest and Lord Carrington's," Lady Carrington introduced you. "She will stay until she finds a husband!"

You widened your eyes at her explicit purpose. "I- I am not- well, I am, but-"

She laughed. "Oh, dear. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. This woman has not stopped talking about receiving you."

"Enchanted to meet you, Lady Danbury," you finally said, chuckling slightly.

While it is true that you must marry and that your requirements are vast, on this particular visit to London, you are not looking to find a husband. You, however, were planning on doing a thing you clearly should not. An alibi was needed, and that way you could kill two birds with one stone.

"Take a seat, let's wait for the other guests," she commanded and you and Lady Carrington complied. Not many seconds later, three women joined you. "Well, this is Lady Mary and her daughters, Miss Kate Sharma and Miss Edwina Sharma… These are Lady Carrington, as you know, and her guest Lady Y/N of Burgundy."

You smiled. "Enchanted to meet you all."

"Us as well." Miss Kate Sharma answered for her mother and sister.

They took a seat, and soon another woman arrived.

"Lady Bridgerton!" Lady Danbury welcomed her.

"Lady Bridgerton?" You stood up at her mention and excitement painted your features.

Lady Bridgerton raised her eyebrow in confusion. "Yes…?"

"Oh, my bad!" you excused yourself before a happy grin. "Of course you don't remember me, the last time you saw me I was nine years old! Y/N, daughter of the Duke Sébastien of Burgundy."

"Oh, Heavens, look at yourself!" she exclaimed when she realized. "Dear, you have become a wondrous young lady!"

"Do you know each other?" Lady Danbury asked.

"Her late father, the Duke, was great friends with my husband," she replied with a tender smile. "I met her when she was a baby and saw her last about eleven years ago."

You laughed. "Oh, it has been so long, Lady Bridgerton! How are your children?"

"They are all great, Daphne married the Duke of Hastings just last season."

"How thrilling! Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton."

"Thank you, my dear."

"So you know the Bridgertons?" Lady Carrington questioned.

"Only Lady Bridgerton," You smiled. "I have not met her children yet, will you be attending the Carrington Ball next week?"

"Of course we will, especially knowing you will be there."

"I cannot wait, Lady Bridgerton."

"You are always invited to our home, dear. That invitation is still current."

"Many years ago, Lord Bridgerton said to me that I was invited to their home whenever I pleased, but I have yet to make honor of the offering." you explained to the rest of the ladies.

Lady Carrington smiled before interrupting. "So, Lady Y/N traveled from France to be here."

"Was it a long way?" Edwina wondered.

You nodded, taking the cup of tea that was offered. "Yes, it took almost three days to arrive here in London."

"And why did you decide to come?" Lady Danbury asked.

"To find a husband, of course." Lady Carrington announced, and you accidentally spilled your tea all over your dress.

"Dear!"

"Mon Dieu !, I- my apologies, it's-"

Miss Sharma and Miss Edwina were trying hard not to burst out laughing, but it was almost impossible when they noticed Lady Carrington giving you a handful of napkins and scolding you for being so clumsy. Then, as the other women in the room chuckled, they did too and so did you.

When everything was in order, you looked at everyone. "I apologize."

"Do not," Lady Danbury stopped you. "Are you not looking for a husband, then?"

"Uh, yes," you lied, an embarrassed look in your eyes.

"Miss Edwina came from India to find a husband here, dear, do not be ashamed!" Lady Carrington noted. "I was telling her about the Queen's nephew that came the previous season."

"He was a charming young man." Lady Bridgerton mentioned.

"And there are still one or three Bridgertons available to wed." Lady Danbury added, making Lady Bridgerton laugh slightly and the three Sharmas look at each other uncomfortably.

"There is also the new Lord Featherington, he has mines in the Americas, just like your Mama's family."

You nodded. "I shall ask Grandfather about the Featherington mines in my next letter, then… You would not believe the amount of men in Europe swindling the rich, saying they have the most prosperous mines in the Americas while that is the furthest thing from the truth," you mentioned. "My cousin, Lord Voclain, almost made a tremendous investment until I took a look at the jewelry the man gifted him for me. Glass painted green, as if he could cheat my eye."

"And Lord Featherington is engaged to his cousin Prudence." Lady Bridgerton reminded.

Cousins?, dear God.

"Well, he was courting Miss Cowper when that happened, so forgive me for being skeptical."

"It is disgusting nevertheless." you said.

"It is."

"I will be ready to list the eligible bachelors in London at the upcoming ball just for you, Lady Y/N."

You chuckled. "I am not in a hurry to wed, Lady Danbury. I wish to fall in love instead of marrying as if it is my duty."

"Is it not your duty to marry?"

"Technically, it is, yes," you replied to Miss Edwina as her older sister gave her a look. "But my father raised me to know my worth and not marry a man I do not love… He married my mother against his family's wishes, all because they loved each other dearly. That is what he wanted for me."

"He was an amazing man." Lady Bridgerton smiled.

"He was indeed." you agreed, an afflicted grin replacing your smile.

[wonwoosthetic]

AllKpop 240210 🌷 Minnie

< series masterlist

Carats were surprised with SEVENTEEN’s Minnie’s sudden appearance at Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour concert in Tokyo, February 9th. The idol had expressed her love and appreciation for the pop singer multiple times before, yet fans were shocked when she attended the concert 700 miles away from Seoul with no other member in sight.

Minnie seemed to have enjoyed her time during the concert, singing along to the songs by the American musician, making Carats turn to Social Media almost instantly, updating other fans about her whereabouts and well-being. Yet, some netizens were left unamused, disappointed and angry by the idol’s spirit.

“Singing during a concert is one thing, but the way she shouted out certain words seemed almost disrespectful.“

“Taylor Swift is known for her misandrist songs. No idol, especially not someone with a popularity like Minnie, should even think to sing those lyrics so passionately.”

“I don’t care if she likes her music, to be honest, but she doesn’t have to be so open about it.”

“I wonder what her members are thinking about her singing songs belittling men…”

“This is what happens when you let her go out without the other members”

“She knows how famous she is, she must know there are hundreds of cameras on her and still, she decided to scream such disgusting words out loud”

“I want to like Seventeen but she is making it very hard.”

“I really hope Seungcheol will lecture her about this”

“This is so embarrassing for her omg”

“Her European friends have always been a bad influence on her, this is your proof”

Social Media users spread videos of Minnie singing along to songs like “The Man” and “Ready For It…?”, as well as “champagne problems”, where the K-Pop singer can be seen “passionately” shouting out curse words - “Bitch” and “fucked” being only a few of them. The critique of enjoying feminist songs followed quickly after.

Carats did not hold back as they came to defend the only female member of the widely popular idol group.

“She’s 26 years old, you don’t expect her to curse?!”

“I remember when Vernon said ‘shibal’ by accident and Carats found it funny. Here is Minnie singing along to lyrics, that she didn’t write, that hold the word ‘fuck’ and she gets criticised for it…”

“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why we need to sing The Man even louder.”

“Minnie is finally able to go out of the country and enjoy her free time, seeing her biggest idol and you guys aren’t letting her have a good time while I bet you’re throwing around even worse curse words every day”

“I bet she’ll come home and laugh her ass off reading all the hate comments.”

“She grew up around multiple dudes in their teenage years, I promise you, bitch and fuck are the softest curse words to come out of her mouth hahaha”

“Just wait until they find out all of the members of Seventeen hate men😂”

“You can’t be serious about this…”

“You guys are calling her bitch, whore, and what not on the internet, but as soon as she says it, it becomes a problem? Lock yourself into a basement pls”

“Oh sorry, I forgot, you guys don’t curse?”

“I can hear the guys clapping and supporting her from here haha”

Swift, who is an advocate Democrat and open Feminist, has been a big inspiration for the female idol, as she has often mentioned in the past, explaining why she would be enjoying finally getting to sing along to the Pop singer’s songs. Minnie has yet to respond to the hateful comments, but Carats are positive that she won’t address this issue and continue enjoying her life as a happy “Swiftie”.

[rainbowdaisy13]

Hi, I hope you're doing ok. I was browsing down your blog to read some of the asks about what is happening in the Taylor Swift fandom and I had a lot of ideas to share.

I'll start off by saying I'm not American, therefore I'm not gonna actively take part in the 2024 elections and I don't know all the details about US politics outside of what my country media outlets say and write. Also English is not my first language so sorry for any misspelling or mistake.

To focus just on the Taylor Swift current matter: to me this situation is yet ANOTHER proof of her sheer disinterest in speaking up about anything polarizing and potentially dangerous for her net worth. And the worst part is that if she stays bland and money driven like this she'll only show how she considers everything an era. There is no commitment for her.

Lover era feels comically fake now for the stark contrast to nowadays, it was all a stunt. Where's all that activism now, especially as an "ally" for the LGBT+ community? How can we really define her as a feminist when she only speaks up when it affects her (let's not forget her radio silence on reproductive rights)?

And granted we will never know where "Taylor Swift real person" ends and "Taylor Swfit TM" begins, and I personally don't really care, what I mostly care about, and that I noticed recently, is the consequences she - and people like her - have directly or indirectly on media and pop culture: I may be extreme when I say that NO philanthropic billionaire/multi millionaire will ever do enough good for the world EVER, because the very same system that got them to that level of wealth is the faulty system that condemns the majority of the worlds population to exploitation and poverty.

Add this to the fact that most of the ultra rich and rich people don't give a damn about anything if it's not affecting their pockets, while they're also powerful and influential enough to drive politics and culture in their favour (ie. anything concerning taxes, systemic exploitation of low income countries, etc, and don't get me started on the absurdity of finance as a whole), we are in a situation where we actually are influenced by these people that have all the interest of staying out of anything for the sake of their money.

All of this to say that to expect Taylor Swift to be a source of information and potentially an inspiration to decide who to vote is very dangerous and takes away all the agency that every single one of us ideally has in a democratic system (let's not forget that Taylor herself keeps very conveniently reminding that she does not want to be a 'guiding light', that she's 'too soft for all of this' indeed).

I don't want I try not to and am not driven by celebrities in my choices but I do recognize their influence on pop culture as well.

I'm not the first to say that lately there has been a need of belonging to a community, to feel a part of something, and music has always had this power, but has been enhanced with social media and especially after the pandemic imo. For a lot of people, and I'm personally not totally immune to this as well, supporting an artist and interacting with their fanbase became a way to define who they are/want to be and it can be difficult to keep some distance from the idol, because you more likely support someone if they seem to have an affinity with you, your interests, what you stand for, etc. Sometimes it pushes us to believe we have more intimacy with what are complete strangers and sometimes it can bleed into parasocial relationships, which I don't think are healthy and can get quite extreme (respect Chappell Roan please!)

In the end, my personal impartial advice to this would be to discern the art from the artist, and detach the fields that don't concern the artist from said artist, unless they are active in those fields.

This doesn't mean that I don't think celebrities don't have the power to influence and change important events, nor that they shouldn't speak up and get more involved, but I find myself growing more and more disillusioned with celebrities and more and more eager to reclaim my agency as a commoner.

This doesn't even exclude the fact that we shouldn't criticize Taylor for her general inactivity (from the AI crap to the Democratic endorsement) when she has every mean avaible to do differently and actually have an impact.

P.S. I'm still uncertain about the whole matter with BM, and Taylor being surrounded by people with questionable opinions, because we can't blame her for the doings of others BUT she still hangs out with those people. But again it's very likely they don't talk/don't give a damn about politics.

Sorry for the long ass ask.

First of all, whenever you guys say English isn’t your first language it just blows me away—all of you read & write better English that many Americans, so please never feel weird about sending in asks! They are always very articulate and have less spelling mistakes than I make 😆

Secondly, you bring up lots of good points—for me, Taylor getting involved this election isn’t because I hope she will sway votes away from Trump and towards Kamala—I agree it would be dangerous to rely on wealthy entertainers and billionaires as beacons of the common persons best interests. Rather, Taylor speaking up would confirm for me and many other fans that she IS who we all thought she was back in 2018-2021. That the person she claimed to evolve into—a more empathetic socially conscious braver Taylor who knew that her voice does impact so many younger impressionable minds, one who wanted to stand up for what and who she believed in, someone who claimed the LGBTQ causes, the BLM protests, gerrymandering, etc were worth speaking up about, wasn’t just an era to try on until she got tired of it

Damn you have so many excellent points here, but yeah you’re right, at the end of the day Taylor and other billionaires aren’t going to stand against a system that is still actively keeping them at the top

Thanks so much for your input 🙏🏼

[jewishbarbies]

I think a few days ago when talking about antisemitism in media you mentioned Anne Frank and how we really shouldn’t have access to her diary and that for me thinking… we really SHOULDN’T have access to her diary.

like maybe I’m reaching, but I feel like by making her and her writing a spectacle, they stripped her of her humanity and her girlhood.

I’ve never thought too much about her, but it just hit me that Anne was literally a CHILD. A 15 year old girl. You have so many people writing think pieces about her and making her into a feminist icon, I see people on TikTok speculating on her sexuality and whether she was a lesbian or a bisexual or straight or whatever, etc and it’s like… this poor child can’t even rest in DEATH.

Like that was a young Jewish girl going through something absolutely horrific while still trying to navigate teen hood and we made that a SPECTACLE. As if she’s a zoo animal.

Like she had no idea that what she was writing in what she probably thought of as a silly little diary for her and her alone was going to be publicised and picked apart for all to see. She was just a girl. And that wasn’t our diary to read.

I’m not sure if it was me saying that, but there was a reason it was made public. her father wanted to share that firsthand account of what happened bc they were sorely needed at the time, but also to show that the jews who were murdered were human and a lot of them were children. however, i think the way discussion has evolved surrounding her and the diary has become so incredibly disrespectful and irresponsible over the years. like trying to make her a symbol of feminism or, most recently, claiming she’s a “queer icon” and “jewish rep”. she was a murdered child. no more, no less. we do need these stories but the way goyim continue to choose to handle them without any care at all is so disappointing.

somewhat recently i had a run in with some swifties who were claiming Anne Frank would’ve gone to the eras tour, and some argued that taylor swift was Anne Frank reincarnated. it’s a symptom of the fandomization of real world figures and issues. young people are not taught how to properly handle these stories and the people in them, just told the stories and sent home.

[comradekarin]

That last ask you got here, just reminds me of the fact that while TS fandom claims to be all about feminism and women supporting women, it surely lacks intersectionality and it SHOWS and this is in great part because that’s the kind of advocacy they get from the celeb they worship, that’s why is dangerous to just pander to one kind of feminism as if everyone had an universal experience, when it couldn’t be further from the reality, we need to have those conversations we need to learn from one another and whoever has a privilege, should make good use of it to uplift those who can’t at the moment

Yup!! That’s basically the point I’m trying to hone to be honest. Again, I absolutely believe we should support female artists in the music industry, especially when they will be held to higher standards than other male artists (even in that area we can have a conversation about the dynamic race plays between male artists, too). However, it’s imperative we discuss how Taylor and her fans only use feminism to tell other people they can’t be mean to her, or critique her. Are these group of people the minority in the fan base? Maybe, sure. But should we sweep it under the rug and let it fester just because it’s the minority? No.

Do I believe the average Taylor Swift stan is normal and doesn’t hate black women? Yes. I believe there’s a lot of them who just enjoy her music and don’t feel the need to bash other black female artists in order to prove how much better Taylor is. Nonetheless, there’s still a large group of her fans who claim to support all women but will not hesitate to degrade and shut out the voices of woc making valid criticisms against Taylor. Just look at the Matty Healy situation. A white woman’s partner is exposed for making disgusting racist comments about black women, and the responses are not “this powerful rich white woman is continuing to date this man and is being complicit through her silence, which is enabling his repulsive behavior and she needs to be held accountable” but instead “we need her to stay away from this bad man!”. Yes, because the image and reputation of this white woman is more important than the dangerous rhetoric her partner is spreading about the same women she claims to support! Yes, because this white woman can have a collab with the same woman (ice spice) her boyfriend was making racist remarks about and everything is ok! Yes, because it is the white woman who is the victim here, and if you can’t see that you’re a misogynist!

Taylor’s silence during the wave of transphobia, the criminalization and banning of drag shows, the uptick of hate against black women, and so much more just makes sense when you look at the company she keeps. Didn’t her team try to sue a journalist for stating Taylor constantly toes the line with conservatives and white supremacists a few years back? Just look at the CO2 emissions drama where everyone was like “man I hate privileged white millionaires” and then she dropped an album and everyone forgot? Any critique for Taylor is met with these responses: A) Taylor isn’t the worst apple out of the bunch so why is she getting attacked like this B) Y’all would never do this to male celebrities so just say y’all hate women C) Why is Taylor blamed for the actions of other men or D) [justifying anything Taylor has done].

So, what you’re saying is correct anon. We can not talk about feminism and supporting “all women” while also trying to lump the struggles of all women into a single category. The initial Feminist movement itself excluded other women of color, it was something only meant for white women. White women have a level of privilege over other women of color, and we can’t pretend they don’t because they’re just “women, too”. White women and their fake white tears have done so much harm to marginalized communities, especially my own black community. I want this conversation to actually mean something, for it to be a moment of self reflection, for it to actually be about supporting, advocating for, and uplifting the voices of all women. I don’t want this talk of “support all women” to only be brought up when someone attacks your white fav.

[pink-lemonadefairy]

no cause the hate chappell roan is getting is actually pissing me the fuck off. people got so upset at her for setting boundaries and going off on fans who disrespect her private time and make her uncomfortable and for what? just because being harassed is “normal” when you’re famous doesn’t mean it can’t bother her? have you ever for like one second thought that maybe things should change and famous people can start receiving the respect and privacy they deserve? people purposefully misconstrue her words and/or don’t listen to watch she’s actually saying. this whole situation with her not wanting to endorse kamala harris as if that immediately makes her a republican. are y’all dense on purpose or just…actually that stupid? where are the critical thinking skills. where are the listening skills. endorsing and voting are two different things, and she IS voting for harris, she just says it’s important to be critical of both parties (IT IS! EVERY POLITICIAN AT THAT MATTER) and the democrats have done shit that isn’t great either. cause they fucking haven’t (giving money to a “country” aka actively helping it commit genocide + also passing a bill that names any critique of said “country” antisemitic). nothing is black and white in politics, many things can be true at the same time and there needs to be room for nuance!!!!!!! chappell said nothing wrong but people still wanna be pissed at her.

if what she said makes you so angry i have no clue how you plan on ANY change whatsoever taking place in the states. decolonisation and dismantling systems that hurt minorities happens from the ground up TOO and one vote of yours in a presidential election isn’t gonna change everything overnight. it’s the START, the step in the right direction. the work doesn’t end there though and half of democrats (cough cough white people cough cough) are not comfortable enough with disruption to do that work. anyways.

& after she cancelled her shows somewhere people are attacking her personally. nothing wrong with being upset about not being able to see her, that’s completely valid, but people need to stop acting like she’s taking a break for no reason. she has severe depression + is constantly under scrutiny, of course she’s gonna need a breather.

and now people are comparing her to taylor swift and saying how taylor is soooo much better than her cause she’s endorsing kamala…she’s friends with a trump supporter you fucking morons and she hasn’t ONCE raised her extremely loud voice about palestine (a feminist issue, too btw!) and other issues. i’ll NEVER forget how she toured certain states and said NOTHING about the bans against drag queens and the violence against trans people. but oh right she’s supposed to be an ally. but i guess the yntcd music video was enough? and people wanna say she’s doing more than chappell roan like actually stop speaking or im gonna set the whole world on fire.

anyways whatever chappell roan they could never ever make me hate you

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Someone smarter than me needs to do an in-depth analysis on how swift weaponizes sex. So many of her lyrics involve cheating as revenge and picking fights with her partners about other girls. She makes it sound like some godly privilege to be with her and if she masterminded her way into your life you're just soooo lucky. Even "touch me while your bros play GTA" plays into that. Like "why would you want to have fun and game with your friends when ill let you finger me". (Sidenote a bunch of her lyrics and all of Me! sounds like an abusive partner daring you to leave and dare to find someone better) It's creepy how she's so juvenile and egotistical at the same time. She's mastered the "any mention of my bfs, even the underage ones, is slutshaming" move and uses it to get out of any criticism. Like, have all the sex you want be safe whatever but don't act like some sad little girl who got taken advantage of when the game you started goes poorly.

Ask, and ye shall receive. Because this a very insightful observation! Thanks!

It is true that Swift clearly uses sex and sexuality like a "gotcha" moment. I was always quite perturbed by her songs that glorify cheating. It's just so strange, but I think it ties into her enjoyment of revenge fantasies. Anyway, I was planning to write about how Swift's music often engages with and reinforces heteropatriarchal social standards. I think your idea adds an interesting new layer to the ways in which she manipulates through sex- both in the performance of passivity to masculine authority, as the patriarchy, and the ways in which she commodifies female sexuality by weaponizing it.

You're right it's incredibly egotistical and juvenile.

Also, I have a major bone to pick with the way Taylor Swift uses feminism to shut down criticism- like OMG do I have a problem with her there. She's only ever spent her career crying about how "women who talk bad about me are bad women" yet, she never really does or says anything actually feminist. In fact, most of her music, like I said above, reinforces the patriarchy. She herself is guilty of so much slut-shaming, too. I will go into detail, with a real argument, in a separate post soon. And I thank you for pointing out the weaponized sexuality aspect of her, often, overtly patriarchal tone.

BTW- "ME!" is Such a weird song -> "I know that I went psycho on the phone" uhh... excuse me?

[oh-my-damn]

I am devastated by the news that Taylor Swift had to cancel three shows in Vienna due to a threat of a terrorist attack.

This comes right after the horrifying news that children were targeted and murdered during a Taylor Swift dance class in the UK recently.

And yet, as I sit here, dwelling in the devastation of it all, I know exactly who to blame.

I don't blame the swifties, who waited for so long and travelled so far to go see her in Vienna. I don't blame them for spending a probably tremendous amount of money (no matter how much) to be there.

I do not blame the families or the children or the teachers involved in the absolute tragedy in the UK.

I blame the perpetrators. But I also blame the media. I blame the culture.

I blame the fact that we currently live in a world where it is okay to not only hate (especially female) artists to a degree where you want to harm them and their fans, but where it is okay to hate women to such an agree that you would act like this.

I have, to my enormous outrage, seen comments on how Taylor somehow deserved this. That its a "shame they caught" the people intending to harm and kill possibly thousands of concert goers. Human beings.

I have seen comments blaming Taylor for the deaths of three innocent children in the UK stabbings.

How fucking dare you.

How can you wake up in the morning and look at your own reflection in the mirror?

How can you face your family and friends?

How dare you pretend to be normal, to be a well-adjusted person while harboring these outright evil feelings.

What's wrong with this world is NOT that women and girls of all ages gather to celebrate a female artist.

What's wrong with this world is the fact that there are people out there who not only think they should not be allowed to do so, but violently try and do keep them from doing so.

I want to tell you what, and who, the common denominator in 99% of the issues the world has, are.

But I fear you're not ready to hear it.

Perhaps my opinion and response to this would be different were I not born a woman.

But I was.

And because of that, it is my eternal curse and burden to suffer under the rule of men.

To suffer under the violence of men.

To suffer under the opinion of men.

To suffer under the volatility of men.

To suffer under the oppression by men.

Every single day, I hear another story.

I will hear another story of how a man ruined a woman's life. And a lot of the time, they are never truly punished for it.

I am sick. and. tired. of men ruining the world. I am sick and tired of men running the world. I am sick and tired of men ruining women.

I am sick and tired.

Call me a misandrist. Do so rightfully. I am one.

Call me a liberal radical feminist. Do so rightfully. I am one.

Call me a social justice warrior. Do so rightfully. I am one.

But do also call me a liberal. Do also call me a feminist. Do also call me a fucking JUSTICE WARRIOR.

I refuse to diminish this, I refuse to live quietly among humans who behave this way.

My sister's boyfriend once asked me if I "could truly kill a man if it came to it."

The argument was regarding someone breaking into my home and/or rape. He did not believe I would be able to if it really came to it.

I told him, without hesitation, that I absolutely could and would.

If you try to take from me, I will snatch whatever you try to take right back. You try to rip away my dignity? My feeling of safety? My feeling of being? My right to existing? My right to living?

I will rip away yours thousandfold. I would rather die trying than give in.

I am sick and tired of men actively, aggressively and purposely ruining safe spaces for women.

We have so few of them.

And the fact that we cannot EVER keep them safe says everything we need to know about how much men in general value women.

[rollercoasterwords]

rae give us your thoughts on taylor swift more specifically her rich white feminist thing she’s got going on and her influence on the current ‘girlboss’ trend and the current perception of women in media today???? asking bc i love reading your opinions on this stuff 💕

it sounds like u have some opinions of ur own lol but sure i can talk abt taylor swift! will be putting it under a cut bc i love my swiftie mutuals tho...swiftie mutuals look away im going to be mean sorry....

i mean yeah overall u kinda summed it up lol. i don't think i'd really care much about taylor swift were it not for the way she's been branded as some sort of groundbreaking feminist and subsequently played into that perception to profit ("the man" makes my eyes roll out of my skull sorry...)

i think my dislike of her was first seeded when "you need to calm down" came out--before then i just hadn't really cared abt taylor swift, knew a few songs but wasn't crazy about them, etc. but then she dropped "you need to calm down" and suddenly she was getting TONS of praise for doing SO much for the queer community and i was like. well first of all the song is bad second of all she's literally comparing her online haters to violent homophobes as though those two things are in any way equal or similar experiences third of all she's getting praised for profiting off positioning herself as a #ally. like this song and music video are not some sort of feminist praxis they are a way to funnel money into her already bulging pockets.

but because literally everyone around me (many swiftie friends) was gushing over how amazing she was for hiring all those dykes + faggots to dance behind her i felt like i was being gaslit + the fact that taylor swift was just happily accepting the money + accolades at the same time made me dislike her

when folklore came out i actually did enjoy the album which was. the first time that's happened for me lol i usually like maybe one or two of her songs and think the rest are mediocre at best but i was like huh maybe she's like changing as an artist and sort of settling into a new groove that's kinda cool. and then i didn't like evermore as much but i was still like okay cool new sound new vibe. and then she dropped midnights and i tried really hard to like it for my swiftie friends but...honestly i was shocked by how bad it was lol. just felt like a new level of low in terms of bad lyrics and the music was incredibly bland and boring to me, nothing new or interesting going on there. and then i felt gaslit again by all the swifties raving abt the lyricism of lines like "draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man" like!!! babe that is a tumblr post from 2014...

but aside from finding it genuinely incomprehensible that she gets so much credit for being an amazing writer or lyricist when the bulk of her discography is simply incredibly mediocre or straight-up bad imo (bc honestly that alone wouldn't be enough to make me dislike her; ik these are all subjective measures so even if i find it annoying to hear people rant + rave about music i think is bad it's not gonna make me dislike the artist or the people raving necessarily) what bothers me more and solidifed my dislike of her is the continuation of the way she acted when "you need to calm down" dropped. which is to say, it's infuriating enough that her fandom has sainted her, but what's more infuriating to me is the she seems inclined to play into that sainthood.

she often leans in to portraying herself as either a victim of misogyny or a #girlboss feminist. and like--this isn't to say taylor swift hasn't experienced misogyny, or that she shouldn't talk about those experiences, or that rich white women are exempt from sexism. but her feminist consciousness seems to begin and end with her own personal experiences of sexism, with no effort at a deeper political engagement made. she flies her private jet around and poisons the environment and when people try to call her out for it she sits back and lets her fans accuse anyone that criticizes her of being sexist. in fact, it seems that any criticism of her is met with accusations of sexism, which is an infuriating obfuscation.

at the end of the day, her politics such that i have seen are incredibly liberal and toothless, and her feminism seems largely focused on making herself more money ("the man" being about "getting ahead" faster, the whole thing with that one guy owning her masters centering around a dispute over property + who gets to make money, etc). she is a capitalist first and foremost, and because of that her feminisn kind of sucks, so i hate seeing people treat her as a Feminist Figure. i also think the gaylor thing is sooooo stupid and annoying and reinforces the concept of identity first and foremost as a discrete ontological category rather than something socially constructed + materially rooted. like the idea that taylor has some mystical gay Essence inside her that exists regardless of how straight her music + lifestyle is, the makes her Queer--sorry but give me a fucking break lol. i don't give a shit if she kisses other girls, taylor swift is not a Queer Icon, and i don't understand why people desperately scrabble to find proof that she is when there are already plenty of openly gay pop singers!

in conclusion taylor swift is the epitome of #girlboss liberal feminism to me and her supposedly genius music being aggressively mediocre is just the icing on the cake lol