#p: Taylor Swift

[taylorftparamore]

i was a flight risk with a fear of falling -> i can see the end as it begins -> cause i knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch -> and if i get burned, at least we were electrified -> wonderin why we bother with love if it never lasts -> i was a robber, first time that he saw me, stealin hearts and runnin off and never sayin sorry -> should've know i'd be the first to leave -> and they nicknamed her "the bolter" -> i see how this is gonna go -> but i've seen this episode before and still loved the show -> love's a fragile little flame, it can burn out -> please don't be in love with someone else -> all the people i've ghosted stand there in the room -> and she's laughing, drawing aces but none of it is changing -> you gotta leave before you get left -> i packed my bags, left cornelia street before you even knew i was gone -> but it always ends with a town car speeding out the drive one evening

[seeinganewlight]

none of *waves at everything taylor has ever made* this would exist without debut so y’all better fucking respect her

[lemoncupcake]

i know everyone already knows but taylor swift owns her masterssssssss we cheered

[goodgirlwhoshopeful]

SHE GOT HER MUSIC BACK!!! I’m still so emotional!!!!

                               Don’t read the last page… but I stay.

     “New Years Day” x “This is Me Trying” disappearance parallels 

all I can think of when I hear this lyric is how she talked to us at the very first reputation session about how she really had not been sure that she would ever be able to be that famous singer/songwriter ‘Taylor Swift’ again and she had been so worried we would leave but partly why we got invited to a session/why she did them again was because she went online and saw the community was still here even when she was gone and I JUST–

[crumblingidleworship]

TAYLOR SWIFT FEAT. HAYLEY WILLIAMS - CASTLES CRUMBLING

[keepyourlife]

Wo do you think is the album about, do you think Joe is the bad guy or Matty or none?

i'm gonna be real with you, i didn't expect so many songs to be matty-coded, given we all thought they were an item for, like, a minute but oof.

personally, i think it's nuanced. and i love that! we got personal songs (i can do it with a broken heart), we got some rep-coded stuff (thanK you aIMee, cassandra), we got the media and her fans (who's afraid of little old me), but we also got joe, we got matty, and ultimately, we got travis (and thank god we did, so high school makes me grin like i'm the one in love. it sounds like something i would have danced to in my bedroom in 2009)

[cametotheshowinsd]

TAYLOR SWIFT: THE ERAS TOUR (2023)

[meltinglikeasugarcube]

Gp reader and taylor are in a relationship. Taylor decides to surprise reader by wearing the lover bodysuit for sex.

WARNING: THIS IS FILTHY!!!

Title: DO YOU FEEL BETTER NOW?

Word Count: 2553

Pairing: Taylor Swift x G!P Reader

Rating: Explicit

The door shuts behind you with a thud that echoes too loudly in the silence. You peel off your coat and kick your shoes into the corner, your body moving like it’s done this a thousand times. The muscles between your shoulders throb from standing too long under artificial lights, smiling through conversations you barely registered.

Personal shopping was supposed to be a stepping stone. Something temporary. You never imagined it would become the entirety of your days. Now it’s all tight smiles and people too rich to speak in complete sentences, all of them clutching desires they don’t understand and expecting you to make sense of them. It’s not fashion. It’s customer service with better lighting. And today had been a particularly difficult day.

Taylor called earlier. Her voice helped, soft and certain, familiar in a way that made your throat tighten. You tried to sound okay. She didn’t buy it. Of course she didn’t. You know she heard it in your voice, the cracks you couldn’t disguise.

You end up on your living room floor, staring up at nothing. The version of you that used to thrive under pressure, who could improvise a runway fix with a single safety pin and a borrowed belt, feels distant. You don’t hate who you’ve become. But you don’t recognize her, either.

You don’t hear the door open at first. The sound is too soft, swallowed by the noise in your head. But then it clicks shut, and your body jolts upright.

You weren’t expecting anyone.

Your heart kicks like a warning. You scramble to your feet, still groggy from lying on the floor too long, the fabric of your clothes wrinkled and sticking in places they shouldn’t. You turn the corner, every nerve braced.

Taylor is standing in your doorway.

No warning. No text. Just her, glowing like something conjured from a memory that never quite left you alone.

Your mouth falls open. You blink, but she doesn’t disappear. She smiles; real, quiet, impossibly present.

Your breath leaves you in a stutter.

“Oh my God.”

She takes a single step forward, and your body moves without thinking. You close the space between you in seconds, but when you’re inches from her, you stop, suddenly unsure if touching her will break whatever spell this is.

“You’re really here,” you whisper, voice barely holding together.

“I’m here,” she answers softly, her hands sliding up your arms. “Couldn’t stand it anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes stinging.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I did,” her tone cuts through whatever protest you thought you had. “I had to.”

She leans in and kisses you and it’s not tentative, not soft. A firm press, lips parted just enough, mouth warm and familiar. Your hands find her waist, and she sinks into your touch, her body flush against yours for the first time in far too long.

You don’t realize your hands are shaking until she pulls back and takes one in hers, lacing her fingers through yours, grounding you.

“I missed you,” you murmur, voice rough with restraint.

She nods. Her thumb brushes the inside of your wrist.

“I know, my baby, I know,” she tilts her head softly. “Me too. You have no idea how much.”

Your body wants to drag her to the floor and stay there for hours. But she has other plans; you can see it in her eyes, the flicker of something controlled, simmering just beneath the surface.

She leans in again, presses a kiss to your jaw, then your neck. Her voice drops.

“How long do we have?” you ask. She only has a small bag in her hand so you know she won’t be staying long.

“About two hours,” she mumbles sadly then sighs.

“You flew in just for—”

“For you,” she strokes your cheek with the back of her fingers. “God, you’re trembling.”

You feel yourself blush. She steps back, just enough to scan your face, her gaze slipping down your body and then back up. A look passes through her—something like decision. The mood shifts. She straightens.

“I have something I want you to see,” she says, voice suddenly low, more commanding. You raise your eyebrows. She presses a kiss to your temple. “Go to your bedroom, please.”

“Uh, why?” you ask, half-laughing, dazed.

She tilts her head, eyes heavy-lidded and unreadable.

“You’ll see.”

You look at her for another beat, trying to read her, but her expression is cool, composed. You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, and back toward the bedroom, feeling the anticipation thick and electric, humming just beneath your skin.

You sit at the edge of the bed, hands between your knees, your pulse spiking in strange rhythms. You’re expecting food. Maybe a gift. Something small. Something comforting.

You’re wrong.

When she enters the room, she’s stripped down to one of her tour costumes—the pink and blue one that you love so much. Her legs look impossibly long, her skin glowing in the dim light.

You swallow hard.

She moves slowly, eyes never leaving yours, then kneels between your legs, her hands spreading your knees apart with gentle pressure. Her palms rest on your thighs. Her gaze drops to the bulge already forming beneath your jeans.

“I wear this one all the time ‘cause of you, you know?” she says, voice almost teasing, her hands moving to unbutton your fly.

You don’t respond. You can’t. The moment she drags the zipper down, your cock is nearly fully hard. She slides your jeans and briefs down enough to free you.

“Look at you,” she whispers. “Kept thinking of you on the flight here. Kept thinking of having you inside me.”

Her fingers wrap around your shaft and squeeze gently, base to tip. You suck in a breath as she strokes once, twice, then leans in and presses her tongue to the head, lapping at the precum like it’s nothing. Her eyes stay on yours as her lips part and she takes you into her mouth, wet heat wrapping around you inch by inch.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hand finding her hair. “Taylor…”

She hums around your length, and the vibration makes your knees twitch. Her tongue swirls, tracing the underside, then she sinks lower, her lips sliding down until you feel the back of her throat constrict around you. Your hips jerk, and she lets it happen. She pulls back, her mouth wet, her lips shiny with spit.

“You don’t have to hold back,” she murmurs. “I can take it.”

You groan, breath stuttering as she dives down again. You thrust up, slowly at first, then harder. She relaxes her throat, takes you deep, her hands gripping your thighs for balance. You can feel the mess on her chin, your cock thick and slick from her mouth.

Just before you come, she pulls back again, breathing hard, saliva connecting her bottom lip to your shaft.

“No,” she says, voice ragged. “Not yet. I need it inside me.”

“Tay—”

She stands and peels off the bodysuit in one motion. Nothing underneath. Her breasts bounce free, nipples pink and stiff, her stomach taut, her thighs gorgeous. You don’t even have time to react before she climbs into your lap.

“I’m sorry if I’m like a dog in heat,” she murmurs, pressing her slick cunt against your cock, grinding slow. “I’m losing my mind. I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

A half-laugh escapes you, breathless.

“I don’t see any cons about that.”

Then she lowers herself, slowly, letting your length press between her folds. She rubs against you in long, teasing drags, her slickness coating every inch. The head of your cock catches at her entrance over and over, but she doesn’t let you in yet. Her breasts sway with each movement, her mouth falling open, eyes glazed.

On the fifth stroke (or maybe the sixth, you lose count) she lines you up, takes a breath, and sinks down.

You both moan. Her heat engulfs you inch by inch. She moves slowly, until she’s seated fully in your lap. You feel everything, the squeeze, the twitch, the pulse. You grip her waist hard enough to leave marks.

“So tight,” you groan into her neck.

She whimpers, her hands braced on your shoulders as she begins to move. Her hips roll in circles, building rhythm from nothing, finding the pace that makes you grunt low and helpless beneath her. She throws her head back, her back arching in a fluid curve, riding you in deep, gliding thrusts.

“You feel… so… fucking… good,” she pants, each word syncing with a slow grind down. You dig your fingers into her waist, guiding her faster.

“I’m not going to last,” you warn, unable to stop yourself.

“Don’t pull out,” she whispers near your ear, her breath hot.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I need to feel you dripping out of me,” she gasps. “I need to feel you all day, knowing you want me…”

“I want you so badly,” you shiver, trembling beneath her. “I wish I could stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah?” she mumbles, her pace quickening.

“This right here,” you manage, voice guttural, “is what I was made for, I’m sure.”

Taylor lets out a breathless giggle and you thrust up hard. Her hands brace against your chest as your rhythm turns frantic. The room is filled with wet sounds, skin against skin, and the rising whine of her voice.

She tightens around you, back arching again as she comes with a sharp cry, her pussy clenching in pulses. You’re seconds behind. You slam into her one last time and come hard, deep inside her, holding her still while you empty yourself with ragged moans. She stays with you through it, her body shaking, head buried in your neck.

After, you lie back, still joined, your hands smoothing over the sweat on her spine.

She lifts her head, cheeks flushed, eyes soft.

“Are you feeling better now?” she whispers.

You laugh loudly and roll your eyes.

“Am I feeling better now?” You say it in the same tone she used. “I’m killing myself when you leave.”

[thecorvidforest]

during the Super Bowl, while Americans were distracted, Israel launched heavy bombardment on Rafah, where well over 1 million Palestinians are sheltering. Rafah is the furthest south you can go in Gaza, where Israel promised time and time again Palestinians would be safe while they bombed the evacuation routes. there are reports of a ground invasion. they told them to evacuate. there is nowhere for them to go.

right now it is vital that we do not look away. boost everything you see coming out of Gaza. keep an eye on updates from trusted sources and spread them where you can. take breaks if you have to but please. please i am begging you, do not look away.

[rainbowmarta]

I wish I were normal instead of having war flashbacks whenever someone mentions the Chelsea hotel

[taylorftparamore]

love's a game, wanna play? -> back when we were card sharks, playin games -> what if none of it was accidental? -> baby let the games begin -> oh no, i'm fallin in love -> i wanna be your first string -> you know i love the players, and you love the game -> the whole school is rolling fake dice -> and i bet you thought you'd beat me -> baby, i'm the one to beat -> fighting with him is like trying to solve a crossword with no right answer -> and she's laughing, drawing aces -> i play em like a violin -> it's poker, he can't see it in my face but i'm about to draw my ace -> you're calling the bluff on all my usual tricks -> the sickest army doll -> just playthings for me to use -> uh oh, i'm fallin in love again -> i wanna be your end game ->

that child's play back in school is forgiven under my rule -> devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes -> with your hair falling into place like dominos -> the dominoes cascaded in a line -> i'm fallin in love again -> but there was one prize i'd cheat to win -> just like any good trophy hunter -> i lived in your chess game, but you changed the rules every day -> begging for footnotes in the story of your life, drawing hearts in the byline -> you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes -> my boy only breaks his favorite toys -> love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right -> video games, you pass me a note -> no one wanted to play with me as a little kid -> i felt more when we played pretend -> i wanna be your a team ->

twenty questions, we tell the truth -> luck of the draw only draws the unlucky -> i've been breakin hearts a long time, toyin with these older guys -> excellent fun til you get to know her -> i've been scheming like a criminal ever since -> pull the string and i'll tell you that he runs because he loves me (he loves me) -> lose something, babe, risk something -> i'm tryna see the cards that you won't show -> we broke all the pieces but still wanna play the game -> like any real love, it's ever-changing -> cause we were born to the pawn in every lover's game -> they're off to the races -> push the reset button, we're becoming something new -> we've been on a winning streak

[seeinganewlight]

i would love for swifties to stop making anything and everything taylor does about her most recent ex or her current partner, but i guess that's too much to ask! 🤷🏻‍♀️

[lemoncupcake]

i fully believe taylor is the one who picked the hint for swiftie and getting it made me emotional bc no matter what the haters say it might be parasocial but it's like a two way street

[keepyourlife]

What is your favorite song of ttpd?

i'm really bopping to i can do it with a broken heart, so high school and florida. but i also love i can fix him, down bad, who's afraid of little old me, my boy only breaks his favorite toys and the smallest man who ever lived. clara bow already holds a special place for me bc i LOVE stevie nicks

[cametotheshowinsd]

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? (2024) written & directed by Taylor Swift

So tell me everything is not about me …but what if it is?