#(is it the internalized homophobia and trauma? mayhaps)

[transfloppa]

been thinking alot about their dynamic agaim... hfgdgjf

[sagemoderocklee]

i just remembered one of the more popular tropes that i can’t stand: character x has a sexual awakening

like i feel like it’s always been common to some degree cause it was used as like a “character x realizes they are gay/bi/etc and has a crisis” thing but like i see it all the time used in a way that’s like “this character has NEVER experienced sexual attraction ever” to like suggest asexuality without outright stating it, is almost always followed up by said character jerking off, and then it’s immediately followed up with “character x is a dirty dirty homo for being attracted to their same gender friend” to really drive home the homophobia

like it rlly is so ugly and i want this trope to DIE

[leighsartworks216]

Sodomy

Damien x male!DA!reader

IT'S FINALLY COMPLETE Y'ALL GAMIEN IS HERE

I did not proofread this and I'm not going to until I decide to read this again late at night and cringe at all my mistakes

Edit: I fixed some spelling errors and changed a few minor things here and there to make it flow better so it has officially been proofread 👍

Warnings: internalized homophobia, religious trauma, lowkey emotionally abusive parents (only hinted at tho), old timey sodomy laws, googled 20s slang

Word Count: 2915

Slang Reference:

Wise head (wise-head): A smart person

Stuck on: Having a crush on

Masterlist

Oftentimes, Damien missed his old university days. Back then, his responsibilities didn't stretch so far. His parents had been breathing down his neck for so long, expectations as high as a Heaven he never believed he would reach, that university had been his only escape. His parents influenced his career choice, as it was them who pushed him into a politics major. But once his sister left, his eyes were opened, and he distanced himself from their wishes so he would have room to grow into a better person.

He’d also met you during this time.

Somehow, you both just clicked. Where one was, so too was the other. Perhaps it was this closeness that drew out feelings in him that had long been repressed, by his parents, priest, and even himself.

Homosexuality was a sin. At least, that’s what he was raised to believe. Why should you think any different? Sexuality as a whole in this day and age was changing and evolving, but… Sodomy was still a serious crime. If he or you were accused, you’d both be ruined, surely.

Damien was sleeping rough. He hated to admit it, truly, but his mind was focused more on you than his work. How could one attend meetings and prepare speeches when you existed?

As he got ready for the day, his mind began to wander. He kept it under control, for the most part, but then he imagined you fixing his bowtie, smoothing out his lapels, and he had to rush to pick up those few minutes he wasted staring dazed in the mirror. Then, as he was grabbing a mug from his cabinet, his hand had subconsciously begun to grab a second one. He went without coffee that morning.

-

“Damien?”

His head shot up, tearing his attention from the paperwork on his side of the desk to where you were sitting across from him. You’d taken up residence in his office today, using the other side of his desk to file court cases and shuffle folders around. Your brow was furrowed, face laced with concern. A lump formed in his throat as he thought of how cute you looked like that.

“You’ve been staring at that graph for a while now,” you observed. A sly smirk crossed your lips. “Does our mayor need help with his paperwork?”

It was hard not to get used to your teasing after so long. And yet, somehow, even as he rolled his eyes and shuffled papers around, he could feel his heart fluttering against his ribcage and a warmth heating his cheeks. “Of course not, dear district attorney.” The floating feeling inside of him almost died as he saw the large block of text he had flipped to.

Damien cleared his throat and folded his hands on top of his desk, leveling you with a knowing look. “I was simply thinking of breaking for lunch,” he lied. “If you’re still as careless as you used to be, I can almost guarantee you have not even had breakfast yet.” He didn’t mention his own lack of a full breakfast with coffee that morning; you could tell he was preoccupied enough already without him having to admit it.

You chuckled, averting your eyes back to your own work as you slipped papers into different folders. “You know me too well, Dames.”

“An honor and a privilege,” he teased with a self-satisfied grin. The Mayor stood from his desk, grabbing his cane in the process. “How about we go to lunch? Somewhere close by - mayhaps that diner down the road? My treat.”

Your head snapped up. You almost looked afronted at the idea of him paying for your meals. “I couldn’t possibly let you do that, Damien! It’s completely inappropriate and-”

He waved a hand, silencing your protests. ���Please, I insist! This is a lunch between friends, not the mayor and district attorney.”

And how could you possibly say no to those pleading eyes of his?

-

“Do you remember that one party we went to where - What was his name? Markus… Lynch? Where he broke a table doing a keg stand?”

Damien chuckled. “Oh, you mean the party you dragged me to because I was, and I quote, ‘working too hard’ on a term paper due the next day.”

You laughed at the memory. You must have forgotten that you did that, as you looked off wistfully into the distance, as though you were searching through dusty files of old memories in your mind. His heart fluttered as he studied the dreamy look on your face.

It was a marvel being able to know you, truly know you. He had seen nearly every side of your beautiful personality, from your overwhelming joy to your lonesome sadness. The set determination in your eyes was ever so familiar from uni. It carried over to your days as a lawyer, and as DA, but he remembered seeing it very clearly when you would work for much too long on an assignment, or when you would tell him he had been working too long and he needed a break. He remembered seeing them as you dragged him to that party, where you laughed and chatted and dragged him over to the poker table almost immediately. (You were always so skilled at cards, he never had a chance to beat you in the first place. Lots of money was lost and gained that night.)

Admittedly, other than the poker, the table mishap, and you dragging him there, the party was rather dull. It wasn’t long after you arrived that you were dragging him outside again, this time to the roof. The two of you laid out on the hard shingles of that frat house and spoke of your dreams, your futures, your aspirations, until the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon.

Perhaps he didn’t fully realize it yet then, but he believed now, as the orange lights of the diner highlighted your nose and cheekbones, bathed you in their warm light; as the coffee steam from your mug and the steam from his hot chocolate drifted between you; as your eyes shined like those stars. Yes, he knew it now.

He was in love with you.

-

Damien’s brow furrowed as he read over the same paragraph again and again and again. His mind was elsewhere, despite how many times he tried to bring it back down to reality, to business.

Ever since his epiphany at lunch, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was never anything indecent or suggestive. Rather, he simply imagined what it would feel like if you caressed his cheek. Or ran your fingers through his hair, freshly washed after a shower. Sometimes he imagined what it would be like to kiss you. He imagined too often that it would be soft, sweet.

He found himself praying more often. His heart ached to be closer to you, to hold you. But guilt ate away at his soul every time it did. It felt wrong to feel this way for another man, especially as he’d never before felt this way about a woman. He asked God questions he’d been asking since he was a child.

If God made humans in his own image, and if he was supposed to love every one of his children, did that mean he loved Damien too? If he had these terribly lovely thoughts about kissing another man, did that mean he was no longer deserving of God’s love, even if said love was supposed to be unconditional? Was he born a sinner? Or did the Devil turn him into one somewhere along the path of life?

He never received any answers, of course.

His only solace was that you had decided to work in your own office as of late. The cases were piling up, it seemed.

With a sigh, he pushed his paperwork aside. He wouldn’t be getting through it anytime soon. Instead, he grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment from his drawer along with a reservoir fountain pen. For a long moment, he just stared at the blank sheet. Then, he began writing.

My dear DA,

Our reminiscing during lunch got me thinking of those old university days - it seems you’ve opened a floodgate that does not wish to be shut just yet. As such, I was wondering if you would like to come to my estate for dinner tonight. You need not reply in such short notice, you simply must show up if you choose to attend.

Best Wishes,

Damien

Before he could overthink what he was doing, he folded the letter into thirds and slipped it into an envelope. With careful care and precision, he proceeded to heat up some wax and pour it at the ‘v’ of the envelope. Once it was cool enough, he pressed the signet ring he wore on his left pinky finger into it. The sigil of his family was left in the red wax. Damien addressed the backside to you and gave it to his secretary, telling her to have it delivered before the end of the day.

And when he sat down again, pulling his paperwork back in front of him, he desperately tried to ignore the sinking feeling of dread pooling in his gut.

-

The chime at the door shocked Damien from his task. He fumbled for a moment, cursing under his breath as he hurriedly finished what he was doing to run to the door. Once he was actually at the door of course, he paused, took a deep breath, and pulled it open.

You were both dressed down. Working in the positions you did, suits were a must, and Damien especially had to look the part of a good, upstanding Mayor (which he was, thank you very much). So, seeing you in such simple clothes again after so long, well, if made his heart stutter.

He greeted you with your name, saying it as though he hadn’t seen you in ages, when it had only been a few days since your face graced him with his presence. “Come on in! I’m, uh, not quite ready,” he admitted through a nervous chuckle.

You laughed good-naturedly as you followed him inside. “It’s okay, Dames, take your time.”

Your presence had an oxymoronic effect on his emotions. On one hand, he was nervous and energetic. Being around you made him antsy, worried he would make the wrong move at any moment in a giant chess game of your friendship. On the other hand, you had a comforting effect on him like no one else, not even Celine. It was like his body didn’t truly know how to act when it was around you.

He left you in the living room, telling you to “Feel free to explore” as he disappeared back into the kitchen. He double-checked that everything was as it should be, running through an ever growing checklist in his mind. He made sure he had sandwiches, grapes, cheese, wine and glasses. He wondered if he should throw in crackers, if he needed to grab a blanket or if it would dampen the familiar experience. He was at war with himself.

Resigned to grabbing a spare blanket from his linens closet, he was stopped abruptly when he was met with you in the doorway. He felt - and perhaps even looked - like a deer in headlights.

You just grinned, lopsided and knowing, like you were trying to bite back a full-blown toothy smile. “A picnic?” It was less of a question than it seemed, especially as you nodded to the basket he’d just finished packing everything into.

He floundered, mouth silently opening and closing. It was truly a spectacular sight to see the Mayor at a loss for words this great. But, after a moment, he straightened up, swallowed the thick lump in his throat, and then cleared his throat. “I- Well, I was hoping we could- I had planned for us to maybe-” He cleared his throat again, nervously running a hand through his hair. He desperately wished he had his cane so that he had something to wring with his hands - an awful nervous habit that he hopelessly wished he could act on. “That night,” he began slowly, ”at the party, we snuck onto the roof to look at the stars and talk instead. I thought it would be… nice. To do something like that again.”

Dark eyes looked to you for approval. You were smiling. He turned away, blushing, playing it off with a scoff. “Stop smiling like that,” he scolded, but it was half-hearted at best. “I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not stupid!” you cut him off quickly. You made your way to the basket on the counter, and peeked inside. Your smile became less mischievous and more sincere as you saw the care he put into making a nice dinner for the both of you. Not only had he thought through what wine would go best with the cheeses he picked out, the sandwiches he made were your favorite. Honestly, you were amazed he remembered. “It’s very thoughtful of you… It’s sweet.”

He couldn’t possibly hide how red his cheeks and the tips of his ears were now, but he certainly tried. With a nervous ahem, he excused himself to grab a blanket. And if he closed himself in the linen closet for a moment to hide his hands in his face, breathing deeply multiple times to calm his racing heart, you would never know.

-

The stars seemed to shine brighter tonight than he’d ever seen them shine before. They twinkled and winked down on Earth, like they were concealing some secret from all of humanity. After all, what did they really know about space?

Dinner was simple, good. Damien found himself on his second glass of wine before you finished your first in hopes it would settle his nerves. (It didn’t. Instead, it allowed his mind to feel more free to think about you.)

But now all that was left was you, him, the blanket underneath you both, and the stars above.

He was smart enough to choose a section of his roof that faced away from the road, away from the prying eyes who may think that any of this was scandalous. Though, he supposed, it was, on some level. Two men, laying this close to each other… Even if it wasn’t in a sexual sense, if any word of it got out, your reputations, your lives would be ruined forever. He frowned at the thought.

“Okay,” you broke the silence abruptly, turning on your side and propping your head up on your hand. “What has gotten into you lately?”

Damien stared up at you with wide eyes. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s not like you to reminisce about university. Why now?”

He looked back up at the stars, trying to avoid your interrogative gaze. But, even as he stayed silent, you just kept staring at him, waiting for an answer. He couldn’t avoid it any longer.

Your eyes followed him as he sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared down at the shingles of his roof. He silently prayed that God would forgive him.

“When you brought up uni the other day…” He sighed. His heart was pounding so hard against his ribs. “I realized something. Something I had… repressed for a long while, I think.”

You sat up fully, sitting on your knees and facing him. The stars, no matter how much they twinkled, shined, sparkled, and shimmered, would not pull your attention away from Damien.

His dark eyes, almost too dark to see in the dim light of the moon, finally looked up at you. He opened his mouth, closed it, and swallowed thickly. “I… I love you.” He held his hands out, in a gesture one would use to calm someone down. “A-And I know sodomy is illegal and a sin, and you don’t have to reciprocate anything at all, b-but-!”

Your laughter stunned him silent. He blinked owlishly. You leaned forward and grabbed his hand, pulling it close and pulling him closer in the process. “I knew you weren’t a wise-head but c’mon, Dames, I thought you realized!”

He stammered, trying desperately not to look at your lips. He had to prop himself up with his free hand just to keep himself from falling over into your lap. “Wh- Realized what?”

You chuckled again, softer this time. “I’ve been stuck on you since we first met!”

Unlike him, you weren’t shying away from glancing at his lips. You leaned forward and brushed your nose against his. He practically shuddered in anticipation, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I don’t care about sodomy,” you whispered.

His eyes shot open to look at you. This time, it wasn’t just shock. It was wonder. This whole time, he’d been so worried how you would react to his admission, but you were in the same boat as him all along.

With a jump of his heart, he leaned forward and finally closed the distance. Your lips connected in a passionate crash, desperation from years of pining finally finding a release. Hands found their way to tangle in hair, fingers gripping onto shirts, all in an eager attempt to bring each other closer.

He loved you. And he couldn’t even begin to fathom that you loved him, but you did. The stars dimmed as they witnessed your love finally come to fruition.

[loveistrueblue]

I’m aware Taylor Swift is not sapphic but you are so right that song is undeniably WLW, heterosexuality not found

Yesss, exactly!! I interpret it from the text alone, death of the author, and all that jazz, so the song to me is about two women in a relationship who break apart because one is not ready for marriage. 

I mean, “You told your family for a reason / You couldn't keep it in” ---- very common lgbtq experience is that desire to let family/friends in on such an important part of their life. It physically hurts to keep it in sometimes.

“Now no one's celebrating” ---- the notorious bad coming out experience, mayhaps?

“No crowd of friends applauded / Your hometown skeptics called it / Champagne problems”  ---- ‘champagne problems’ is something that refers to a problem that is entirely meaningless in the grand scheme of things, kinda like ‘rich people problems’ or ‘first world problems.’ “Hometown skeptics called it “champagne problems,”---- ever had a cishet lesson your experience or suffering and act like it’s a trivial or meaningless thing?

“I never was ready so I watch you go / Sometimes you just don't know the answer / 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you” ---- a lot, and I mean a LOT of WLW (and MLM too, but I am reading this from a lesbian lens primarily), have a very complicated relationship with the concept and structure of marriage. I know I sure do. Marriage is something we’ve been barred from for so long. I was 14 years old in a deeply homophobic household and very deep in the closet when the supreme court struck down all bans of same-sex marriage in the states. Ohio was one of the states that had a ban and I remember everyone around me throwing the biggest fit, calling it unconstitutional, and terrifying that “the federal government can just overrule something like that when so many states don’t want this to happen.” Everyone around me treated it like some perverted and evil attack on “marriage.” Some of the community, myself included, kind of reject the idea of marriage. I don’t want to have to get married and mimic the heteronormative experience to be accepted. I don’t care so much to be accepted anymore if it means having to fit my experience and personhood into a box. But at the same time, the idea of marriage can be kind of beautiful---- this idea of love and commitment. And that’s where that “sometimes you just don’t know the answer” comes into play. 

"She would've made such a lovely bride / What a shame she's fucked in the head," they said”---- Where are my “it’s such a shame she’s so anti-marriage and man-hating :( she would make such a good wife to a good man :(((” girlies at???? 

And a lot of Taylor’s songs follow a story and the way I read the story here is that it’s about two women who are deeply in love. Woman A comes out to her parents about her relationship with Woman B. She experiences a negative reaction, but she loves Woman B so much that she decides to propose to her. Woman B loves Woman A, but she, for whatever reason (trauma, internalized homophobia, simply not interested in marriage, etc.--- take your pick), isn’t ready at all to get married, so she rejects Woman A. Then the song goes over Woman B’s regret, looking over how much Woman A loved her and how much Woman A was willing to sacrifice for her, when Woman B simply wasn’t ready to jump all-in, and now Woman B is left alone and wishing for Woman A to find a new woman who will mend her broken heart and heal her from the pain Woman B has caused her. 

And boom! That’s how I, a deeply deeply deeply gay bitch, read queer subtext into literally everything lmaoooo. 

(I do apologize for rambling a bit here---- you mentioned three things I love the most: Taylor Swift, lgbtq+ stuff, and textual interpretation, and I just got really excited to talk about it.)