#and then years later when i moved into the new place and quarantine was over he went into storage

[freebooter4ever]

sometimes i forget that people new here probably don't know teddy's name so missed the irony of this. back in 2020 i named him eugene. and this hockey season i put a r*angers jersey on Eugene. cause i think im funny. ive also started to worry that i pushed my luck and criss crossed my loyalties too much and now both teams are backsliding ;_; but Teddy Gene has been sporting this jersey since the start of the season so i dont think its his fault. both teams have back to back games starting tomorrow before the break and im Concerned :(

[darlingdarkly]

New Year, New You Part 3

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.7k Words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes

Part 2, 4

The next day is what you can only describe as controlled chaos. The office is a whirlwind of papers, people and pieces of presentation sent to and fro across the building. Maureen in marketing needs approval from Mark in finance who’s busy balancing the budget for this year and the spreadsheets from last year. Sharon has been on the phone for Three. Whole. Hours. trying to make sure the prototypes will be ready before noon tomorrow.

Tom called in sick and Mrs. Magna told Nancy to tell him that if he doesn’t show up today to never show up again. Period. That was ensued by a thirty minute yelling match between Nancy and Tom that ended when you gently took the phone from Nancy’s white-knuckle grip and told Tom if he didn’t come in you’d personally shove your foot up his ass.

Tom was in the office fifteen minutes later, quarantined in the conference room with his laptop, a growing mountain of crumbled Kleenex and very, very, grumpy. The day dragged on and on and while people who had finished with their portion of the project headed home for the day you stayed, even after your piece of the pie was secure, because at the end of it all you knew it fell to Nancy to review and review and review the final product for any mistakes and you weren’t about to let her do it alone.

As you worked, you caught up with each other, not having time to really talk since the white elephant party over a week ago. “So how was break?” You asked as you filed away two early projection models in their appropriate folders. She sat cross legged in front of you, stapling documents together. “It was nice, mom came this year, and I thought it would be a lot more barbaric but it actually was very civil. I'm proud of them for working out their differences. The way it went down last year I was still cleaning fruit cake off my ceiling a month later, remember?”

You giggled together because you did remember. That was Nancy’s Christmas reunion debacle from the previous year. You hadn’t been there but you did drop by to help her clean up and have a little wine. A bottle and a half in you both were too drunk and giggly to climb the ladder and scrap the candied fruit and cake from the ceiling.

“What about you? Did you go see your parents?” You smiled and answered. “Yeah they’re doing good, they said to tell you hello by the way. My brother too.” And the side eye she gave you was hilarious and aggravated all in one. “What? He still asks about you.” She rolled her eyes and restacked the papers in her hands. “Well he can stop.” You laughed as she shook her head. “He’s still got a crush on me after all this time.”

“Yes! He’s obsessed! I don’t know why you won’t go for him, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone anyways.” She scoffed at you. “I am not dating your brother. Not after what he did.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Nance, you can’t still be on that.” She looked offended. “After we both nearly drowned at the lake that summer. You remember, he practically pulled me under!”

You laughed remembering. “He was trying to save you!” She laughed with you and pushed on your arm. “Yeah well he sucked at it. We both nearly died.” You both were in fits of giggles at this point, papers nearly forgotten in the glow of your memories. “Besides, how do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

Your eyebrows raised at this. “Ohhh, something to confess?” She looked up from her work, eyes sparkling. “You know the guy that moved in across the hall?” You did. You both had run into him one day coming back to her place for a drink after a Saturday outing together. “You mean Mr. Dark Eyes, the one who came over and fixed your window for you?”

She practically beamed. “That’s the one. He asked me out for drinks tomorrow night.” You waggled your eyebrows at her and she laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.” It was your turn to give her an accusatory look. “It’s absolutely like that Nancy! He’s into you. I can see it! I think you should go for it, I’m glad for you, it’s time you got a little action.”

She picked up the stack she’d finished stapling and set it to the side, beginning another. “You and I both. I mean it’s not like you’ve been seeing anyone either.” You paused, thinking of Johnny. You wouldn’t call it seeing someone, but there was something between the two of you, it was momentary, your lapse in response but enough for her to notice and immediately catch on.

“Oh my god, wait. You have been seeing someone haven’t you?” You immediately refuse. “No.” “Bullshit.” “Seriously! It’s nothing.” And she wouldn’t stop until she’d pried it out of you so you began recounting your encounter at the gym, leaving nothing out.

“You’re fucking with me.” You shake your head. “No, I’m serious. Just like I told you.” She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “He legit did all that?” You nodded and she smiled. “I think you should go for it.” Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious?” She nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s totally into you. All that weird shit just means he’s obsessed. Is he hot?”

You immediately nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s strong and tan. He’s got this pretty white smile and dark hair. I knew he was a personal trainer the minute I saw him.” She hummed approval. “Definitely go for it.” You laughed nervously. “I don’t know, we'll see where it goes.”

The sun had long descended past the horizon, but you had it done. Two hundred and fifteen pages of statistics and sales projections that concluded the project. You both cleaned up the papers and put everything away. She turned to you when the elevator had stopped at the ground floor and the cold night air chilled you as the doors opened. “Wanna go out for a drink, I know I sure could use one.”

You shook your head. “I’m beat, I’m going home, eating and sliding into bed.” She nodded in understanding. “Don’t forget your homework.” She winked at you mischievously and giggled as you let out a frustrated groan. “I’m thinking about skipping it.” She shook her head. “Better not, with what you’ve told me so far it seems like there’d be consequences.” And she was right, who knew what kind of thing he’d cook up if you slacked out on it. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You find yourself in front of your door, mentally exhausted. You slide the key in the lock and feel it give as you push the door open and walk into the cool interior of your home. Flipping the lights on you drop your purse and jacket on the couch and head for the kitchen. It’s been a long day and you hadn’t even had a chance to go grocery shopping this week but you’re pretty sure you at least had a couple of eggs left in the fridge.

If all you could manage was a few scrambled eggs before you did your homework and fell into bed then so be it. You’d eat better tomorrow. You open the door on the fridge and are immediately taken aback by what you see. It’s fully stocked. There’s a whole pack of water bottles on the bottom shelf of your fridge. The chiller drawer is packed with spinach, sweet peppers, broccoli and carrots. There’s deli meat and boneless skinless chicken breasts, a few types of cheese and a new gallon of milk. Individual packs of yogurt and gatorades in all different flavors.

You open the door on your freezer to find a few more frozen packs of chicken breasts, pounds of lean hamburger meat and sausage. Rushing to the cabinets you pull them open and find low carb tortilla wraps and bread, granola bars and some kind of chips called “Veggie Straws” that you’ve always seen on the shelf but never tried.

As you turn around you finally notice the bowl of fruit on your counter. How could you have overlooked it walking in? Bananas and apples and oranges, all ripe and fresh. You didn’t do this. Either you were losing your mind and key moments in your life we’re missing like puzzle pieces lost or someone had been in your house.

Your eyes widen, breath hitched. They could still be in the house. You turn around and survey the space around you, the dark comforting tone had a queer eerie feeling setting in around the edges. The corners and shadows leering with the unknown. Nothing looked out of place or was missing, but what kind of a person came into a home to stock the fridge and leave without taking anything?

You checked the doors, the windows, no broken locks or pried open hinges, no immediate signs of forced entry. Your shoulders stiffened when the realization hits you, it takes your overworked mind a moment to remember but there it was. Your gym bag, you were nearly certain you had closed it but it was open when you opened your locker to change. Johnny.

You grabbed your purse and pulled your phone out, flicking through your contacts and hovering over his name. You momentarily waver between calling him or the police. What were you going to say? Yes officer, my home has been broken into. Did they take anything? Well, no. The opposite really. What did they leave? Groceries. Lots of them, stocked my whole kitchen with fresh meats, veggies and fruit. Yeah, we’ll get right on catching the ever elusive grocery fairy, ma’am. Top priority, don't you worry.

You started the call and he answered on the second ring, tone light and cheery with enthusiasm. “Bonnie! How was work?” You skip the pleasantries. “Do you have something to tell me, Johnny?” And you don’t know why you expected him to take the matter seriously.

“Aye lass, I did think about ye all day, sometimes with mah cock in hand, how’d ye know?” His response momentarily scatters your thoughts to the wind but you take hold of them once more and push on. “What? No! Johnny, have you been in my house?” He laughs, actually laughs. “Oh that. Yeah, did you check the fridge?”

Your brow furrowed in frustration, of course he doesn’t see it as an intrusion instead of some kind of regular thing. “Johnny, how did you get into my house?” You sit down in a chair and what he says makes you bolt upright again. “Easy, hen. I just made a key.” You’re pacing now. “You made a key to my house! How?”

And he says it casually like he’s explaining how to tie a shoe or giving someone easy directions. “I went into yer bag, found yer keys, pressed it into a mold and had one made. Simple really.”

“You can’t do that Johnny.” He interrupts. “S’alright Bonnie, I’m yer personal trainer.” There it is again. That phrase, like it’s the simplest thing to understand in the world, normal even. He’d picked you out, told you he was going to train you, you didn’t exactly protest and now anything was fair game, including crossing every single kind of boundary you could have and making copies of the keys to your home so he can come and go as he pleases.

“Besides, yer fridge was empty. What were ye gonna have fer dinner?”

“None of your business. And what if I don’t know how to cook? Did you think about that Johnny?” And this seems to be the first real thing to give him pause. “Yer right, lass. I didn’t even think about that. I’m about five minutes away, I’ll be right over.” Your eyes widen in panic. “No Johnny! Don’t come over!”

“S’alright lass, it’s really no trouble. I’ll be right there.” The last thing you needed was him showing up at the door. “No! Johnny I’m serious, don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and it feels long, you almost expect a knock at the door, even though he couldn’t possibly be there that fast, unless of course he was lying about being five minutes away and was actually right outside the whole time, or even in the house still.

“Alright. I won’t come over on one condition.” You grab for it, ready to agree to anything that will keep him from showing up. “Yes, anything.”

“I want ye tae FaceTime me while ye do yer homework.” And you’re almost relieved with the simplicity of it, but there was an underlying unease that you couldn’t shake, what was he up to? You answer slowly when you can’t come up with a good reason to say no. “Ok, I’ll call you back.”

But before you can hang up he interjects. “No. Don’t hang up, talk to me.”

“Talk to you? About what Johnny?” You start to look around the kitchen for what you’re gonna have, if he’s making you talk to him the whole way through it then it’s better to get started now. “For starters, How yer day was.”

It starts slow, your relinquishing of the accounts of the day, but as time went on and you kept talking it all just came to the surface. The stress of the day, the brutal meticulousness of it, and he made it so easy, he was so attentive, listening and responding, asking questions and letting you vent it. He even laughed so hard when you told him about threatening Tom that you couldn’t help but laugh with him, bent over in front of the stove as you let the stress bleed out of you.

It felt good, right even, like something you'd been missing out on, a key component you hadn't realized you’d been without for so long. And you found a peculiar twinge of adoration for him in the bottom of your heart, like tea leaves spelling out your heart's true desires, whether you like what you read in them or not, there they were.

You sat down to eat and he told you about his day as you ate. It was much more appetizing than a plate of scrambled eggs, you had to admit. You nearly choke on a cherry tomato when he tells you he missed you. “It’s only been a day since you last saw me Johnny, you can’t miss me.” And is there longing in his voice, or just your tired mind playing tricks again? “Aye, but I did.”

There’s a momentary pause, a space of uninterrupted silence, pregnant with things unsaid. You finally break it. “Well, I’ve got dishes and then I’ll do my homework.” What he says next makes you smile, and you’re glad he’s not able to see it. “How will I know ye’ll call me back?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll call you. If not, you'll be pounding at my door, won’t you?” You can hear the smile in his response. “Better believe it, lass. Call me.” And he hangs up.

You quickly finish up your dishes, change into something comfortable, just a tank top and shorts, and prop your phone up. Pressing the call button on Johnny’s name in the contact list you see the screen go black as you wait for him to pick up. Your image is reflected back at you in a little square in the top right of the screen and you use the time to adjust your hair and pull the hem of your shorts down lower to cover more of your thighs.

His face pops into frame and he’s smiling ear to ear and you ignore the eruption of goosebumps on your arms when you see it. “Hi, lass” You back away from the screen and into the open space you’ve made in your living room to do your exercises. “Hi Johnny.”

“God yer beautiful.” And you feel your cheeks heating under his compliment. “Stop it, Johnny. Let’s crack on.” You see him sit back on his bed as he responds. “Alright lass. Start.” So you do, starting with the sit ups. You don’t have him there to hold your feet so you slide them under the couch to hold you steady as you do the exercise. He talks you through it, counting for you so you can focus on just your movements, keeping track of your pauses in between sets so they’re evenly spaced and consistent.

“Good lass, now yer toe touches.” You rise and face the camera, bending down with legs straight as your fingertips brush your toes. “Good, just like that.” And each line of praise is like a shot of vodka, a shock of ambrosia to your system, intoxicating. You know he’s looking down your shirt with each rep, but it’s a thrill you find exhilarating instead of embarrassing for once. Halfway through he has you turn around so he can make sure you’re not dipping at the knees.

You do the first one and he groans, quiet but you still catch it. You call over your shoulder and ask if he’s ok and he clears his throat, voice full of audible gravel even in his one word response. “Aye.” You finish and all that’s left is your lunges and stretches. You bend your knees and step into the first lunge, one leg at a time til you reach your goal of ten.

You’re finished and you turn to face the camera, you see he’s laid down on the bed, eyes intense and holding yours even from the small screen of the phone across the room. “Stretches now, lass.” He sounds out of breath and you wonder what you’d see if he flipped the view to his back camera.

You sit on the floor, legs V’d and begin to stretch them wider and wider. You curse your decision for shorts and blame it on being tired and not thinking it through. You know the crotch of your shorts is pulling taut against your pussy, barely covering your panties as you stretch further and further. You start to strain, little puffs of breath and groans escaping your lips as you widen your stretch. “Hold it, bonnie.” And you do just as he asks, holding it against the potent pain accumulating in your calves and inner thighs. “Just a little more, doing so good fer me.”

You hold it for another five seconds and he finally lets you release. You’re breathing heavily as you draw your legs back together and if you aren’t mistaken you think you can hear his labored breathing as well. “Johnny.” His voice is thick with strain. “Aye, lass.”

“What are you doing?” His smirk is devastatingly handsome as he speaks. “Nothing yet, lass.” You feel emboldened and press your luck, eyes connected with his as you command him. “Flip your camera Johnny.” His eyes hold yours raptly for a few seconds before he does as you ask and the shot flips to his chest and legs lying on his bed. He’s got a dark blue comforter and you can see in the frame a pull up bar and a few weights on a rack in the corner, just what you’d expect but the first thing to catch your eye is the raging bulge in his gray sweats and your breath hitches as his hand comes into view, wrapping around the base of the stretched fabric and adjusts it to better accommodate his length.

“See what ye do tae me, hen?” You do see, you can’t look away as his hand squeezes himself through the cloth cage. Your mind, overworked and fried is trying to get you to say something, anything, but the only thing that will compute is his name. “Johnny.”

“Get up and sit down on the couch, lass.” His voice holds a tone of gentle authority, you could probably protest but you’re tired and trying to swim against the current of what your body wants is a task you’re not up for at the moment, so you give in and let him command you.

You sit on the couch at first, eyes still glued to where he’s fisting his cock through his clothes. “Sit back, hen and spread your legs.” You do sit back but you don’t spread your legs, at first. “Come on, bonnie. Jus’ like we practiced.” So you do, not as wide as you would when stretching but enough to give him a view and the tingles of anticipation thrumming through you has you on edge, like you’re standing before a cliff and about to jump, there’s no going back from this.

He groans and you watch with keen eyes as he pulls his sweats down until he’s just in his boxers, the same dark blue shade as his bed spread. “Ye wanna see more, lass?” He’s tempting you and it’s working, you do wanna see more but it’ll come at a price. “Yes.” He wraps a fist around his cock and you shift uncomfortably as your panties dampen. “Take yer shorts off.”

You sit up and tug your shorts down your legs, feeling dirty but heightened as you do, like you’re liberating something inside yourself even you don’t quite understand. He hisses air through his teeth as he spots the wet patch quickly growing and soaking the gusset of your panties.

He pulls his boxers down and his cock springs up into view, finally free and it makes you bite your lip. He’s thick and has length to boot, a good seven inches of it guessing by the comparison of his hand up against it.

There’s a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair spreading out from the base and you can’t help but moan as he wraps his hand around it and begins to tug lazily. His voice is husky and deep when he speaks.

“So pretty, hen. Are you that wet all fer me?” And you’re beyond words so you just nod, eyes glued to the way he tugs on himself. He curses under his breath and your pussy aches from the lack of stimulation. You snake a hand down your chest, descending toward the pain, itching to relieve the tension. “That’s it, lass. Let me see ye touch yerself fer me.”

So you do, just overtop of the fabric, a roll of your fingertips overtop your clit, enough to make your head tip back and moan blissfully. “Good girl.” You look back up to see him working his shaft in earnest, firm grip and steady movements. You feel emboldened by his reactions and lean forward again to rid yourself of the cloth barrier. He stops and watches as your pussy comes into view for the first time.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Fucking gorgeous.” He resumes his movements as your fingers settle over top your bare clit and you start to rub tight little circles over it, just how you like. “Show me Bonnie, show me just how you like it.” The sexual tension between the two of you, the stress of the day all come to a head and you reach down to spread your wetness up and around your clit, moaning low and sultry as he watches you play with yourself.

You reach your other hand up and squeeze one of your breasts through your top and look back up into the screen. Watching him pick up the pace, making fast even strokes over the tip of his cock with each movement. The motion of his hands, the way his tip disappears into his fist and reappears with each pass is mesmerizing. You can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building and it just drives you on as you think about coming in front of him for the first time.

Your fingers pick up speed and your moans rise in pitch as he talks you through it. “Mmm such a bonnie little pussy. I wanna see ye come for me lass. Can ye do that fer me? Come nice and hard fer me?” You suck in a deep breath as you work your body into a frenzy, pinching a nipple between your fingers as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

You look up to see him vigorously stroking his cock. His breathing is heavy and loud through the speakers and you wonder if he’ll be loud when he comes. You’re close and even though he’s not even in the same room as you he can tell, spurring you on. “That’s it hen. Just like that. Do it. Cum fer me.”

It’s all it takes to send you spiraling. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you fall over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. You let out a long drawn out moan as you do, body tensing as you pant and writhe on the couch in full view.

You look up when he calls your name, watch as his strokes quicken and shorten and then all at once he’s coming undone, legs tensing and white hot cum shooting from the tip of his hard cock. It arcs through the air before landing in spattered lines across his thighs. The guttural yell that falls from his lips as he does is loud, just as you’d expected and you wish you could feel it, the rumble of his chest when it sounds.

You’re both breathing heavily and coming down when it hits you, the post nut clarity. You just had very raw, hardcore phone sex with a man who made a copy of the keys to your home, came over without you knowing while you were at work and invaded your personal space.

You’re ashamed and a little sickened by what you’ve just done. Quickly closing yourself off from view you snatch your panties and shorts from the ground and redress. “Fuck, lass. That was fucking amazing.” You’re already working on damage control in your mind, blocking out the experience, no matter how much you enjoyed it, it was wrong.

“No Johnny. It wasn’t.” You can see him switch the camera around and he’s way more relaxed now, smile a mile wide on his face. “Aye, it was. Cannae wait tae see ye, tomorrow.”

You don’t even know if you’ll show up now, how could you after that? It was just a mistake you told yourself, a tired slip up, absolutely a one time thing. You close your eyes and when you open them he’s looking at you and you swear you can his adoration for you swimming in them. “Go to sleep, lass. I wanna see ye tomorrow at 4:30.”

You say nothing and hang up. It’s very late before you fall asleep that night, debating whether or not the consequences of not showing up tomorrow are something you can afford to risk. If you don’t show up he could just pop into your house at any time. It’d be better to just show up and act like nothing happened, that was the key, just brush it under the rug and hope he’ll do the same.

You’re nervous about it all day at work, and you know Nancy knows something is wrong but you insist everything’s ok. You’re too ashamed to tell her about any of it and she relents and leaves you alone but she knows you’re lying. When four o’clock hits you’re out the door, won’t be able to stop this frenzied state of mind until you can clear things up with him and make things go back to normal.

The next day when you walk in the door and sign in he meets you at the desk and before you even have a chance to say anything he’s on you, lips crashing into yours in a passionate and very explicit kiss right in the lobby of the building surrounded by patrons and gawking onlookers.

He doesn’t even give you room to breathe let alone get a word in as his body presses up against yours and he grabs ahold of the back of your neck to keep you locked against him. When he pulls away you’re shell shocked and silent. As he pulls you against him and walks you further into the building you know things have taken an irrevocable turn.

[9w1ft]

hey so i was looking at some of your old posts and saw that you mentioned that karlie and taylor were actually neighbours/lived close during quarantine, could you break down the timeline a bit for me? i wasn't a kaylor then so now i'm interested how/where did they spend time in 2020/2021

thanks for the question, anon!

i’m going to try to keep this as a summary and i won’t be getting too technical with my language or submitting anything that can’t be figured out by watching interviews, googling stuff, and scrolling instagram. people can add stuff in the comments if they’d like.

okay so, basically, at the start of quarantine in the US, march 2020, karlie documented herself being in upstate new york (bedford area, specifically) along with josh, mikey, and misha at this rental property they have often been seen at over the years. so the basic concept is that this was her quarantine pod.

it is worth noting that after folklore was released in july 2020 and we got the visuals and subsequent interviews for the album, that we learned that taylor shot the photoshoot and video content in upstate new york, spending time at blake and ryan’s place, shooting stuff at a place located in lewisboro (not blake and ryan’s place iirc), which is located right by bedford. adjacent towns. connected by the same lakes ponds and forests (pound ridge). so she would have been there in upstate new york where karlie was sometime before album release in july, and it would have had to have been early enough so as to be able to send the artwork for the folklore physicals to print.

but deduction aside, taylor did not really document herself being anywhere until may, where she did her “biiig isolation” instagram post from goldwyn mansion in beverly hills california. however in a subsequent rolling stone interview taylor says that she and william bowery were “stuck in LA” at the beginning of the pandemic. and we also have been told that she reached out to aaron dessner in april about recording music, and in the long pond studio sessions movie, it is implied in the conversation she has with jack and aaron that she stayed in california until around august before meeting up with them at long pond. folklore was still finished when she was in LA. when taylor was in upstate new york remains a mystery iirc but we can say between april and july.

back to karlie… in mid june, karlie posted to instagram from the puck building apartment, saying she was on her way out west to be close to family. then she starts putting out klossy vlog content from a rental property located in california, and around july her and josh are papped around santa monica. iirc misha was seen at the same house seen in the klossy vlogs? she posts a lot from california, she attends and documents going to a protest in LA as well. so we have a general idea of when she was there.

at the end of 2020, we get articles saying karlie and josh have been revealed as the buyers of the many arched, echoey miami mansion, and articles say that the property was sold “over the summer” so at some point karlie moves out of the california rental. in the back half of the year karlie is sort of obscuring where she is and what she posts so it’s hard to be certain exactly when she was where, but we later get an explanation for this because soon enough we learn that she has been hiding the fact that she’s carrying. but we do know from some of her adidas photo shoots that she did spend some amount of time back in nyc. once she makes the announcement, the focus of karlie’s posting shifts to the florida(!!), which becomes positioned as her main location for the duration of the year, through levi being born in march 2021, and the newborn haze period of it all.

taylor is less consistent with showing off her locations during late 2020 and 2021 but the general swiftie lore is that she spent time in london and nyc? she didn’t make many appearances (covid was still very much running the world) but there were the grammys, she was doing stuff for red tv, announcing red tv at the end of september and releasing it in november, filming and then promoting the all too well short film, the i bet you think about me mv was shot in la iirc, and such.

as the pandemic became a part of everyday life and the world adjusted to the new normal, both taylor and karlie began varying their locations again, and it’s been a mix of things again ever since. but this 2020 period is so interesting to me, given how things played out, how they were in similar locations at noteworthy times, and in locations that taylor went on to feature visually and lyrically in her work— folkevermore and red tv, ttpd and arguably the eras tour visuals for the opening and closing lover and midnights segments, if you are inclined to see the parallels in the arches as seen in the miami property etc.

anyway lmfao and i still consider this to be a summary!!

[potatomountain]

“Bad Week” -Yunho Comfort

Synopsis: after a bad week, and mother nature hitting, you try to deal with it yourself only for your ever attentive and loving boyfriend to catch on <3

Genre: Comfort/Fluff

word count: 2.2k

pairing: Nonidol!Yunho x (afab)reader

A/N: I decided to also do a wee bit of SMAU here or idk, just some fake texting <3 so any feedback is appreciated!!

tags: @candypop1611 @hwaightme-recs @justhere4kpop​ @layzfeelit​

You wish you could chalk up the whole week to nerves or stress, maybe even blame it on mother nature who reared her ugly head in the middle of your work shift: but that would be a lie. Simply too much happened, and you brushed each thing off with a simple "it's fine, I can handle it."

Things had always been tough since Covid struck, but you got through it. It hadn't helped you had moved to Seoul just before Covid, making adjusting to the large city harsher than you had expected, but because it had been so hard you had started working at a nearby arcade right after quarantine. Not many people would come in, there was still a pandemic going on, but your now boyfriend was a regular.

Over a year with him and despite the struggles he made it the best year of your life, that didn't mean he had to fix all your bad days. Grudgingly you moved through your apartment, looking for your heating pad as your lower abdomen twisted with pain sharp enough you felt bile rise in your throat. Yet you couldn't find it anywhere.

So it was going to be that kind of day.

Frustrated, you messaged your boyfriend, looking just where he had said a moment later. Your frustration spilled over with red cheeks, grabbing the pad and heading to your room with every intention of just curling in a ball and playing Minecraft, such an easy and mind-numbing game it'll be fine.

Accept it wasn't. You told Yunho he didn't need to come, that you would be fine, but as he announced he was on his way any reply died on your fingertips as an email flashed across your screen.

One click and your shoulders dropped further. "Another one…" this was the third gaming company to deny your application this week. It was a far shot to begin with, with nothing but your degree under your belt and the arcade your current job- well it wouldn't be at the end of this week.

Just a week ago you were given the news that this coming Sunday was the last day the arcade would be open, the owners wanting to cut their losses from Covid and sold it to some other company. You didn't know what company but you knew they were getting rid of the arcade, and in turn your place of work. You hadn't told Yunho yet, holding onto a small bit of hope you would have a new job by Sunday and that instead of the depressing news you could celebrate with him.

As you curled into your desk chair in sweats and one of Yunho's shirts hanging over your frame, heating pad over your stomach and blanket wrapped around you like a cocoon, you knew you were going to have to tell him. As no job meant no money, which meant no rent-

You cut the thought off, starting up your pc you built yourself, watching the three monitors come to life. Games were your passion, playing and making them, so computers and game systems were a second passion by association. You just weren't confident you were any good at it, the recent rejection email solidifying that in your heart a bit more.

You had just started building your starter base for the new game you started when you heard your front door, knowing Yunho was being true to your word but you just didn't have the energy to get up- or call out.

"CUPCAKE I'M HERE WITH CHOCOLATE!" You could hear him setting down bags, moving around the kitchen, only to pause when you didn't respond. "Cupcake?"

Footsteps and then the bedroom door was open, Yunho's tall frame leaning in and blocking most of the light from the hall filtering into the dark room.  You looked up and gave your best reassuring smile, but you could tell it didn't work. "Hey Yuyu bear, what about game night? Yeosang was looking forward to it, wasn't he?" It also might have just been the fact it was his turn to order the take out.

Yunho covered the distance between you two with ease, leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "He'll have his chicken, and I convinced Mingi to take my spot- my baby needs me so of course this is where I should be."

"I'm fine-" Your immediate protest was cut off by his finger against your lips.

"Nu-uh, you only play minecraft when you aren't. And not just because of mother nature either." He turned the chair so you had no choice but to face him, his hand moving from your lips to cup the side of your face. "So movies or funny youtube compilations? Markiplier has a new video we can watch, or we can watch the guys' stream and watch Mingi epically fail? And of course with all the cuddles and snacks and chocolate!"

Yunho refrained from asking what's wrong but you could see the question in his searching eyes. Here he was ready to shower you with care, affection, and just overall baby you all night just because you needed it, no questions really needed asked. Yet you felt the need to tell him, just not yet, right now you wanted nothing more than to accept the comfort he was offering.

"I'd love that Yuyu… but I don't want to move." You whined, reaching up and placing your hands around his wrist, leaning into his palm.

"That's fine I can carry you." He was smiling so sweetly. "Save your game and shut it down, I'll go set everything up. Are we watching the guys?"

You nodded, watching him run off before saving and shutting down the computer. Moments later, after he took your heating pad, Yunho was picking you up bridal style in your bundle of blankets and carrying you down the hall. The lights were low, coffee table covered with your favorite snacks and drinks and candies, the bear Yunho had bought you for your birthday sat on one end of the couch with the heating pad in the middle where he set you down.

Several more moments, the stream playing on the TV already, and you were copied into his side with the bear on your other, snack in hand and laughing at something Yeosang was scolding Mingi for in the stream.  "They just started and Mingi is already getting on Yeosang's nerves." Yunho tsked, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "Tell me if you need anything, cupcake."

"Just you…" We settled together in comfort, eyes on the screen. He got more and more vocal as we relaxed, pointing out Mingi's mistakes and laughing as Yeosang roasted him, reading the comments as Yeosang was a big streamer anyways.

It was only when he finally addressed several comments asking where Yunho was, that your lightened mood plummeted once more. Right, he should be with them.

Your ever attentive boyfriend noticed, especially when you tried to shift away. "Cupcake… are you ready to talk?"

You weren't sure if it was the sweet understanding tone of his voice or the way he pulled you up into his arms and tilted your head back that did it, but when your eyes finally met his softened ones, the tears started. "I'm sorry- you're missing out on your friends because of me. Because I can't keep my shit together-"

"Hey. Hey hey hey none of that!" He stopped your ramblings with his thumb over your lips, only to push it gently over your cheek and wipe away your tears. "You are entitled to your breakdowns and sad days, and even if it's just a break day, you don't need to force yourself to be happy. Please don't do that for my sake either."

"But-"

"No buts, at least not those buts." He leaned down, pressing a few kisses along your brow. "I love you, on your good and bad and ugly days equally- in fact I want to love you more on days like this. You do that for me all the time. When I have a particularly complicated student that frustrates me or takes up more of my energy than usual, or have to deal with parents- or when everyone is being chaotic back at my house. You know living with three other men is no fun. Wooyoung alone can get on all of our nerves."

He kissed away each and every tear he didn't wipe away, holding you so close in his embrace it was hard not to feel safe and secure. That was the thing with Yunho, he really was like a big teddy bear. "No wonder Hongjoong moved out as soon as he could, despite the blow to Hwa's sanity."

"I'm surprised Seonghwa didn't leave with him- but that's not the point right now, you are and how much I love you. How much you do for me, how much you keep me sane and happy and help me. I want to do the same for you, but I can't if you won't tell me what's got you so down." He nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head now that your tears had slowed some, your hands gripping his shoulders as he held you closer.

"It's just…" Sighing, you knew he had a point, and you couldn't say no or keep anything from your love. "The arcade closes permanently this Sunday and I don't think I'm cut out to be a game developer. I haven't finished my solo project and I got my third rejection email this week… if I can't find another job, I don't know what I'm going to do- games are my life I-" You broke off on a choked sob, turning your head to cry into his shirt now that you have finally spoken your fears.

He held you tighter, muttering sweet words of comfort and urging you to let it all out. "It's okay, I'm here for you, cry all you want Darling. I got you. I always got you." His words just had you crying harder; why didn't you come to him sooner? Your sweet Yunho.

He didn't sound aggravated or annoyed with you once as you cried for who knows how long, in fact he teared up himself, berating himself for not noticing sooner and not taking care of you properly. This wasn't just a little something, this was a big change and he felt horrible that you felt like you couldn't come and talk to him about it just because it wasn't a good change. 

He racked his brain for a solution, for anything he could do to help and make it up to you, as a partner not just as someone in love with you. And finally, when your sobs died to quiet muffles, he spoke. "Don't get another job right now, why don't you focus on your game?"

Your head flew back to stay up at him wide eyed, shocked he would even suggest it. "I don't have a way to pay my bills, Yunho! I can't just-"

"I'll pay them. In fact, let me move in with you. I want to be with you, and I'm here so often anyways… I want to wake up to you and go to sleep with you every day. I want to take care of you, for as long as you'll have me." He smiled down at you, his sweet smile you adored with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze as he once more wiped your tears away. "So? What do you say, cupcake? Me, you, this apartment? I can afford to pay for it and take care of us both while you finish up- I promise."

You wanted to protest, not wanting to put all that weight on his shoulders, but you knew Yunho had been saving for his own place already- and you very much liked the idea of living with him. "I love you, you know that?"

"Mmm yes, but I can never get tired of hearing it." He nuzzled his nose against yours before placing a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you so much, let me take care of you. Let me support you and love you unconditionally in these apartment walls- come on, let me in."

You knew he meant more than just physically letting him into the apartment by those words, your heart softening further. "On one condition." You pressed closer, arms locking around his shoulders. Neither of you noticed the stream was over. 

"Name it. "

"You have to be the first to play my game when I finish it."

He gasped against your lips, holding you tighter in a bundle in his arms. "I thought that was already the plan!"

"Admit it, that's the real reason you want to move in- you want to play it sooner."

He chuckled, trailing kisses all over your face. "Caught red handed- I wanted bragging rights to be the first to play the next best game to exist; aside from the fact that my genius Cupcake is the one who built it."

Laughing at the assault of his kisses you could only accept. Just like that, a bad week, turned into the best week.

[sixofcrowdaydreams]

There's a handful of reasons I relate to Wylan so strongly, but one of them has to be the unique experience of being an illiterate adult.

A few years ago, right before the pandemic, I moved across the world to work in a country where I didn't speak the main language. None of the languages commonly spoken in my new home uses the Latin alphabet so attempting to read and pronounce any letters/words in an unfamiliar writing system has been difficult.

Just don't be ignorant, you might think. Learn the language! For the record, I did. Well, I started to, but then the pandemic hit. My language class stopped and strict quarantines limited opportunities to practice. Two years and two babies later the world opened back up. Work and my tiny dictators, I mean, toddlers have kept me too busy to throw myself into learning the language with the gusto I once had. But over the years I've learned enough to get by with basic pleasantries: hello, goodbye, thank you, yes, no. Numbers 1-10. And how to order food at a restaurant. "How are you?" "Good." Unfortunately, that’s the limited extent of my conversational abilities.

The alphabet still trips me up and I often feel like a kindergartner slowly stringing syllables together and incorrectly sounding out words. Plus, there's the bonus of pronouncing the words but still not knowing they actually mean.

So I relate to Wylan a little bit in having to navigate the world at a disadvantage, one he cannot fully understand. Luckily for Wylan he can speak even though he can’t read, which gives him more coping strategies than are available to me. But you don’t realize just how much is written, especially in the modern world, until you are unable to read it.

Being an illiterate adult is a humbling experience. I cannot emphasize that enough. Book Wylan is a teenager, but was thrown into the “real world” and left to fend for himself as if he were an adult. Show Wylan is an illiterate adult who was also more or less thrown into the wild world. And I’d like to imagine that he shares similar illiterate adult encounters and experiences with me.

There isn’t a moment that I forget that I can’t read the language around me. However, it’s very easy to tune out the writing. To be blind to it and not see signs or labels because my brain stops looking for them, unable to to understand them.

Getting lost. Knowing the name of the place, a building, an address, the street that I'm searching for, but not being able to locate it by sight even though it is right there.

Walking past shops and stores unable to read their name and wondering what’s inside. What do they sell? What business do they hold? There’s no way of knowing unless I go inside myself.

Shopping and buying items based on the image on the packaging. Trying to figure out if there’s any difference between two items. Occasionally guessing wrong, buying the wrong thing.

Need instructions? Written directions (like for cooking)? Lol, Guess I'm going to wing it and hope for the best.

Being unable to read a written menu and ordering something generic because the restaurant probably serves it.

Putting off chores that require using the skill I don't have.

Having to act overly polite to everyone (regardless of how I feel) because I am the inconvenience when everyone else is just living their normal life.

Being treated like a child because, in my inability to read, I have the skills of a child so people will treat me the same way they would a child. And worse, all the while still having to act so polite about it because again, I am the inconvenience, even though I am being spoken down to like a child.

Accidentally, unintentionally being rude because I can't follow the sign's directions.

Pretending that I can read (or speak). Sometimes nodding along and agreeing with without any context is easier than a admitting I don't have a clue what's happening.

And in the modern day... I rely heavily on my cell phone to translate the way Wylan would use speech to text features. And there are times when there's no cell service, the phone or app stop working correctly. The translations/transcriptions are imperfect and confusing. It's scary when those safety nets stop working.

So yeah, being an illiterate adult is quite the experience. It can be exhausting. I am incredibly lucky that in my case it's due to living in a multicultural world and that given the time and patience, I could became literate and fluent in another language. The entire experience gives quite the insight on the hurdles and experiences Wylan might face.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Humor (6) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

7 Places Not to Have Sex, a Guide by Dan Howell - ttathinker

Summary: because not every time dan and phil have sex results in careless whispers in the background and scented candles.

an elemental match (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: “one moment can change a day, one day can change a life, and one life can change the world”

- not buddha

dan and phil, who like everyone else in their world have some level of superhuman powers, are out and about when tragedy strikes. they have powers, though. they can fix this, right? right.

(right?)

Baby, I'm a Star (ao3) - cactusgal

Summary: Phil is a lighting designer. Bored with the community concert gigs he has worked for a couple years, he applies at a touring company. He is assigned to a popular band, the dreamx, to cover a world tour. Getting paid to work on nearly every continent: how rad is that? Phil's excited until the first day of rehearsal when he learns something vital: the lead singer is a complete twat. Will Phil quit his job? Will Daniel, the lead singer, realize how much of a dick he's being? Will they eventually forget their differences and become friends? Who knows. Only time will tell.

can dan and phil nut (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: dan and phil try no-nut november

Christmas with a few Kinks (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Phil’s a cheeky lil’ shit and inspires Dan to set them up with a Mrs Claus they only know for about an hour.

i jump for my phone every moment it lights up (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan left YouTube behind to become an actor, but years later when coronavirus hits and forces him into self-imposed quarantine he rediscovers an old passion of his - AmazingPhil. He hadn't counted on becoming internet friends with him, or falling in love for that matter.

It all started with a snake bite (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Dan accidentally turns Phil on. Ribena gets all over the couch. While cleaning it up Dan finds out some surprising, and arousing things about Phil's university life.

Kick Me While I'm Down (ao3) - jerseker

Summary: Dan and Phil meet in an adult kickball league. Phil is just there to make friends. Dan is - not.

Lipstick (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Inspired by an Instagram filter, Dan tries lipstick.

Moments (ao3) - TwistedRocketPower

Summary: Dan and Phil had a file. A file of moments that were for their eyes only. Until one day, they were broadcast to the world.

One Last Time (ao3) - greensweater

Summary: When Dan Howell moves in with Phil Lester to help pay the rent, Phil isn't expecting anything but a new friend. What happens, however, is a connection neither of them can deny, even as much as they want to. A Housemate!Phan au.

Practice Makes Perfect (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Phil said he would paint Dan’s nails in a live show, and doesn’t think much of it until Dan finds someone else to do it. Dan is surprised and amused at Phil’s reaction.

Reflections (ao3) - howlthenight

Summary: After the US TATINOF tour, the guys decide it's time for a day at the beach.

“This is perfection, isn’t it?” says Dan peacefully, feeling what he assumes others consider the lightness of being. Phil makes a noise of agreement. Serenity permeates the air. A cruise ship appears as if it’s sitting at the edge of the ocean. They dig their toes into the sand.

Ring It On (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: @danielhowell: come hang out with dizzle and pizzle while we tell you the true life tale of how phil desecrated our marriage

seasons change (ao3) - sadlybunny

Summary: The boy is irresistible. He’s got that “couldn’t be bothered” attitude that has always intrigued Phil, always made him want to know Danny a little bit better. Phil knows falling in love with his best friend’s younger brother is wrong. But he just can’t seem to do the right thing.

The Boy In The Garden (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester had nothing in common. But when the two of them end up working together in the abandoned school garden, will friendship- or something more- develop between them?

the money summits - LetGladnessDwell

Summary:

You might think you’re talking about numbers, but it’s always more than that, Kath had said.

(Or, what Dan and Phil talk about when they talk about money.)

You push all my buttons down. (I know life would suck without you) (ao3) - sinking_wthatship

Summary: Dan and Phil are together, but they have a fight. They don’t speak (only to argue), and have to film a video together. They act civil and what not but it is obvious that they aren’t as close. After the filming, there is a lot of sexual tension, so Phil kisses Dan and it ends up as angry/make-up sex.

[ozzni]

genius idea, I've been looking for a way to do a Worm/Stellaris crossover fic for a while, and while there are certainly some difficulties to making that happen (Ziz stopping humans from going to space mainly), I think I have an idea: The Horizon Signal. maybe, at about the same time Scion appears (or really any time before Simurgh appears), NASA or some other space agency picks up a strange signal coming from a nearby black hole (I really hope black hole theory was around in the eighties or else this is gonna be weird sowwy), and begins to investigate it. Maybe this black hole has something to do with all these magic people appearing?

Partway through this, Zion also picks up on this Horizon Signal, and moves to investigate. He is convinced to enter, an dissapears. a few years later, Scion reappears on Earth, a prophet of the Worm in Waiting (yes I know this sounds dumb but he was convinced to be a hero by some random british guy yelling at him, plus, in Stellaris, the player gets convinced pretty easily so I'd say The Worm is very pursuasive).

Cauldron, understandably, is freaking the hell out over this Worm thing that appears to be stronger than Scion, and try to sway the world into believing Scion is evil very proactively (and successfully, because of the human sacrifices), while also trying to path a way into killing the Worm in Waiting.

Not too sure if Contessa should be allowed to path against the Worm, though. she's not allowed to path the entities, but the Worm isn't one, BUT Scion has kinda sworn himself to protect the Worm in Waiting now, and would likely protect the Worm against Contessa and her paths.

So the story will be taking place but with a new existential threat going on: Cauldron now fears Humanity's enslavement to the Worm in Waiting rather than total annihalation. I'm gonna say that the Worm cultists replace the Fallen and are also a good bit more prevalent, maybe like, as nationally powerful as The Elite or something? Also, the Endbringers are gonna be diffirent; The first one will be Bohu, the second will be Khonsu, and the third will be the Simurgh but instead of normal Ziz Bombs people become followers of the Worm in Waiting, and city quarantining becomes a lot more difficult when the Simurgh'd have guaranteed help from the outside, no matter where they are.

[saturrnss]

My shifting journey!

Hoping that somebody can find some comfort in this 🙏

Hello everybody, You may know me as versetravel on tiktok or just a random person you’ve never heard of until now as you’re reading this, but I say hi to you nonetheless! I want to re-tell my 3 year shifting journey up to this point (2024) to see if anybody is in the same situation as me. As my procrastination to shift slowly takes over, I hope that since it’s finally spring, writing this can get me off my ass and finally shift to the places I actually want to be.

Just note that I forget a lot of things so if the timeline doesn’t match up than it’s my fault, I’m just retelling it.

I was always the daydreamer type, I once at a chuck e cheese whispered to the person In the chucky costume that I was a secret agent and spy. I was…. Different, but one of the only things I reminisce fondly about my child was my wonder and the way I would create stories to make my life a tiny bit more interesting. So When I found out about shifting in 2020 during quarantine and I was intrigued and kind of mindblown, I could finally live the life, or lives I always dreamed of having.

I actually think I mini shifted to this reality/universe because when I was 3 but on new years eve, there was a news segment about the celebrities who didn’t make it to the new year and one who was featured was robert B. Englund, he died due to lung cancer. They also showed a scene from the first Nightmare on Elm street where Freddy was chasing tina. (Traumatized me)

So I was under the belief that he was dead for years because I literally remembered it. When i watched the kill night for Elm street movies I was confused why he didn’t say rest in peace to Robert like he usually did to horror actors who passed on.

It took me until 2022 TO FIND OUT HE WAS ALIVE AND WELL when I found his twitter account.

(back to the story…)

My first script was for a 10th member of twice dr and I’ll be the first one to admit - It was so outlandish and cringy that I deleted it a year later because of shame. The first time I tried to shift, I used the Raven Method and I chickened out half way through. The thought of leaving my reality and being somewhere without guidance scared me, so I just turned over and went to bed.

For my scripts I used the notes app, I had an unfinished 6th member of itzy dr before I moved onto notion and just forgot all about it. I kind of miss the simplicity of my scripts back then, and that I had so much faith in them. (my first marvel script was also NOT it bro lmfaoo)

Now with the whole 2020 shiftok thing, I was all that invested in shifting as a whole and I was still living my life as normal so I was fortunately spared from all the misinformation, though I still remember some tiktoks from that era.

2020 was also the start of my depression and mental issues so I kinda just forgot about shifting and moved on with my life (NEVER became an anti-shifter btw).

2021 was the worst year of my life mental wise, I was miserable every single day and I had an overwhelming urge to kill myself but i was to scared to tell anybody in my real life because they might tell my parents, but it was also the year I was “Re-introduced” to Reality Shifting. It was more appealing than ever at that point so I Decided to make my own tik tok account solely dedicated to shifting.

When I got my first 100 followers and counting due to tiktok I posted using a manifesting sound hoping my followers would shift. I was so shocked because I never got this amount of followers ever. I had this new will to live and motivation to shift. When I attempted to shift to my decades dr It was the closest I had ever gotten to getting to my dr by that point. It felt like I was floating and separating from my body, when it was over I was so happy that I was getting somewhere.

The next handful of attempts were flops but I didn’t let that get me down, I was riding that high from my earlier almost-shift for as long as I could. I almost made the attempt to try suicide but I chickened out (A pattern I know)

But then, something happened again that made me so happy.

I was just getting into Hinduism. One night I decided to pray to Lord Shiva and I felt- different afterwards. It wasn’t a negative or positive feeling, I just felt more calm than usual, and a bit dizzy. So I just decided to hop on my phone for a little and then go to sleep after.

I woke up in the middle of the night. Everything looked normal so I decided to check my phone for the time, when I did It was like someone Injected Adrenaline into my body. It was the middle of the night but the year was the same year as My model dr- 1967.

I was shaking that point, I tried to check if my fingers went through my palms but they didn’t- Everything felt so real. I looked around even though I could barely see anything, and tried to snap my fingers 3 times (safe action) but I was too panicked. I opened my phone and I didn’t have a password on it like I did my cr. I had no wifi but it was open to tiktok and It was paused on a video of Nayeon doing the dance for her solo (on the official twice account I think?)

I put my phone down and freaked out some more, just as I was going to accept this universe as my new forever home, I returned back to my cr. I was breathing really heavily and checked my phone again but It was the normal time.

It took a while but I went back to sleep and still to this day whenever I wake up I check the date.

I find myself downplaying that shift. Maybe because it’s not my dr/ I freaked out but at least I actually got symptoms from the subliminals I used.

2022-2023 is when I really slowed down and got stunted. The shifting attempts were all flops and I was angry. Why did everybody else’s attempts work but mine didn’t? Did I do something wrong? Was I not meant to shift? Weeks between my shifting attempts became months- every time I was attempting Fear took over me that I would get stuck there.

All I was holding onto was a couple almost successful shifting attempts and mini-shift, that was the only thing keeping me from giving up hope that shifting was ever real in the first place.

There was something in me that would never give it up, I didn’t want to give it up, I wanted to spend my most boring days there, being with people who actually loved me- I couldn’t just give up completely.

2024 was going to be no different until something changed that.

I was on the reality shifting subreddit and someone was offering readings. I was very skeptical at first but they didn’t demand money so I decided to try it. They said some really personal things. It was accurate that I was a bit freaked out, But the reading they gave me made sense to me. So I thanked them and before it was gone, took the opportunity to ask them to find out why I wasn’t shifting.

It took a minute (they were talking to multiple people at the same time) but they responded that I had so much negative energy weighing me down and that I needed to focus on being able to shift.

As of right now I don’t know what to feel, many contradicting feelings go through my mind. I don’t know what the negative energy exactly is for me to eliminate it.

But after everything I still have faith- My friends and loved ones are in all these different realities and I want to see them, hug them. I know after all this time it’ll be worth it.

I just know.

[iron-bullogna]

I'm going to vent a bit about it here then. I'm a bit flustered so hopefully it isn't all over the place. Over my life I've experienced a lot of cruelty, primarily at the hands of white cis women and men. I grew up in a town of 1,000 people and my graduating class was 32. I went to the same school my entire life. The area was predominantly white and I mean that in a "I can count on my fingers and toes the amount of POC I encountered in my life before 18" way. I was also born AFAB. It was very clear from a young age I wasn't "normal". I have preschool paperwork highlighting my very obvious autistic traits (playing alone, organization, and at one point I could see from one quarterly report to the other how I taught myself to mask a behavior the aids noted as an issue, etc). My first "best friend" was a boy from the Ukraine who no one wanted to befriend because everyone assumed his English wasn't good. I can't even tell you how his English was because I don't remember that. I just remember he didn't care that I was a little weird and liked "boy" stuff and wore boys clothes when I could cause he liked "girl" stuff.

The boy and girl stuff mentioned here are literally as simple as Pokemon and Britney Spears. We were bullied by our peers, family, and parents for just being children. The only female friend I had growing up that I chose myself was bullied for being indigenous, looking masculine, (I believe Shoshone/Cherokee but I was 9 and I can't recall now apologies) and liking "boy" stuff. She moved only a few years later. I did not have another female friend until my senior year in high school and big shocker that a few years ago she was diagnosed with autism alongside her son. I knew from age 12-14 roughly that I was trans. I thought I was a transman back then. This was pre-internet btw folks. I had NO IDEA wtf a trans person was or that it was even a real thing. I just felt like I wasn't a girl and I couldn't possibly be a girl, all because of how those around me treated me. I'm not saying every transman is just a traumatized cis woman, but I know for a fact for me and my personal situation, being told I looked like a boy, all the stuff I liked was for boys, just literally everything about me = well that is what boys do, not girls. I genuinely think in my case, that it impacted me psychologically in a way so deep it gave me a lot of mental health issues surrounding gender. I would go through phases of hyper performing femininity and hypersexuality to try and fit in. I developed a huge complex around my self worth and being desirable that still persists to this day. This is the part Twitter was angry about and wouldn't let anyone interact with. I'm now 34 and it's manifested in a new way since quarantine since I didn't have interaction with people outside of close friends for that entire time. I find myself with an intense fear of pretty cis women, particularly white women. It's a genuine uncontrollable fear response where my entire body starts trembling because I can't stand the thought of being perceived by them. I feel so lacking. I don't even fucking identify as a woman anymore either but I can't even describe the dread I feel about being near them. It isn't even their fault either. They can be the nicest in the world to me but societal pressure and the treatment of women, cis and trans alike, has caused me so much harm I'm actually actively searching for a new therapist to help with this issue. TERFS out here literally causing the issues they say are "plaguing women from being women". Like HUH? You're literally reinforcing stereotypes babes!!! The same stereotypes you say are misogynistic! You're the problem!!! I actually have surgery on Monday and I told my husband I'm more afraid at being perceived by the beautiful women in the clinic (it has an attached MedSpa, trust me, they're all flawless goddesses in there) than I am being awake for the actual surgery. I don't doubt I would still come out as trans (rn I identify vaguely as non-binary/transmasc) because I just don't really vibe with the concept of gender as a whole. I would have just probably figured out that those feelings weren't necessarily me wanting to be or actually being a man a lot sooner. My heart just hurts for Imane Khelif because I can't imagine if she legit is just a normal ass cis woman with higher testosterone how it must feel right now to be attacked like that. And if she is intersex, how much she probably faced a lot of similar treatment that I did growing up. At this point I'm just rambling, but it has all made me very very sad and just brought up a lot of trauma from my own life.

[sunnyworldwidelogistics]

From inquiry to VIP, Hongmingda’s high cost-performance ratio of logistics from China to USA was irresistible

"It's incredible! I actually got this order for a shipment of 3 tons of clothing goods from China to the United States!"

Hearing RITA, a logistics salesperson from Hongmingda, everyone turned to look. It turned out that she successfully closed the deal for this shipment of clothing goods logistics from China to USA in less than 2 hours.

That afternoon, RITA, a senior salesperson from Hongmingda ,for logistics from China to USA, received an inquiry from Michael, a US customer, inquiring about the airfreight cost for 3 tons of clothing logistics from China to USA. The goods were already ready. RITA learned that Michael's company was a large trader specializing in high-end products. She then provided two options: direct flight and connecting flight, with clear notes and a VIP-style quotation format. Upon receiving the quotation, Michael did not negotiate on the price and sent the booking order to RITA at 3:45 pm on the same day.

In fact, the real story was a bit more complicated. This customer had been served by two companies of logistics from China to USA before, but in the past year, there had been cases of minor damage to goods and a week-long delay in the cargo yard with no one to attend to them. The customer gradually became dissatisfied with these two logistics companies and was looking for a more reliable company of logistics from China to USA through this order. Although pricing was important, the customer believes that service was even more crucial.

The customer spent a lot of effort searching for new international logistics from China to USA through various channels and comparing them repeatedly. By chance, they found our company and learned through many real-life cases that our company's service is excellent, ensuring that goods are not damaged or delayed. Even if there are unexpected situations at customs or quarantine authorities, the company can coordinate and handle them promptly, which has moved many customers. Many of them have become loyal customers for years, "I'm at ease when I hand over my goods to Hongmingda."

After comparing multiple logistics services and prices, only Hongmingda International offered the most cost-effective service and price for logistics from China to USA, so the customer placed the order directly.

The rest followed smoothly. When Michael successfully received the goods and was extremely satisfied, she later became a VIP customer of Hongmingda International Logistics. Even the supplier, impressed by our professional and excellent service, became our customer as well.

The ability of one person to serve customers is limited, so Hongmingda International Logistics has always operated as a team to achieve satisfactory service. Over 60% of Hongmingda Logistics's employees have over 8 years of work experience, especially for logistics from China to USA, and they provide solutions within 24 hours in case of emergencies. Once, a peer joked, "It seems like your international long-distance calls at Hongmingda Logistics don't cost anything." But we believe that resolving customer issues promptly is even more important.

If you also have needs of logistics from China to USA, please consider giving Hongmingda International Logistics a try.

Hongmingda Worldwide Logistics cares more about the client's needs than even the client themselves.If you have business of logistics from China to USA, feel free to contact us at: sunnyglassware2014@gmail.com You will be pleasantly surprised.

[buildingthegrandtour]

The Seance

My friends and I are logical people. We know you’re not supposed to mess around with forces that are stronger than you, but being stuck in quarantine for so long we got desperate to find anyway to entertain ourselves.

It was Abigail that came up with the idea to do something that was a cross between bloody Mary and a seance. And Uncle she had just the previous year discovered that she had had lost a battle with cancer not too long ago. She had wanted to see him again because they did not have much time to get to know each other. She thought instead of calling for bloody Mary that she could call for him. It was supposed to be a lark, a passing thought. We always loved our games when we were children and we were feeling in a childish mood after having a few weed blunts smoked between us.

We didn’t do it that night of course. We were high a little too lazy. But about a week later the thought came up again. Once again during our circle, Abigail brought her uncle up again and I believe it was Brianna that decided hey why not?

Since Lacey had actually owned the house that we all inhabited together, she was the one that used the master bedroom. The master bath was built like a hallway, the 10-ft long marble countertops across from the large closets with sliding mirror doors moving on to lead to a large bathtub that was big enough to fit all four of us. The other bathrooms were of a decent size but not big enough to accommodate everybody, so we decided we would use Lacey’s bathroom for the ritual. We all decided our parts. Brianna got the candles, Lacey cleaned up any clutter on the bathroom counter, and I coached Abigail in a dream ritual that would help focus her concentration on her uncle. After about 20 minutes had passed everybody was ready to commence.

We scattered the candles all across the countertops and even put a few in the bathtub. We lit maybe 30 candles, what a lovely fire hazard! But we got a nice ambient lighting when we turned the bathroom light off, and we were able to have a good distance between us all as we stood in front of the mirror. Abigail chanted. And then his face appeared.

He was a very handsome man, had a very Humphrey Bogart quality about him. He was well-dressed, well groomed, he had an air of charm about him that made us involuntarily want to swoon. The smile on Abigail’s face widened to show her teeth.

The rest of the ritual was rather unremarkable. They spoke of inane things, such as how he enjoyed people watching it Coney Island when he was alive, and how Abigail enjoyed going down Wikipedia rabbit holes whenever she discovered a new movie or TV show.

At one point she asked: “what’s it like to-”

Instead of finishing her sentence, she paused, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling as she held a pensive gaze, the gears in her brain working overtime. After nearly a minute she continued.

“I seem to have lost my train of thought.”

I often wonder if she was going to ask what it’s like to die, and her sudden lapse was the supernatural’s way of letting her know that question was against the rules.

We dismissed the specter, turned on the lights, put out the candles, and everyone cleaned up except for Lacey who stayed behind to put her bathroom back in order.

2 weeks later at least he had gone on a business trip. She had decided to visit Coney Island while she was in New York. She had heard snatches of rumors about people disappearing over a long period of time. One person speculated it was the work of the same culprit, while another person insisted that it was just how New York is sometimes and they are not connected.

During her down time Lacey had decided to investigate. Going back in internet archives, newspapers, and even microfiche, she had discovered some disappearances from Coney Island. She agreed with the second person that none of them seemed connected. The victims were all different people of all shapes, colors, sizes, and ages. They did not disappear from the same places. They did not seem to have any correlating hobbies.

Still, when Lacey came home she had become obsessed. She spent her free time hunched over a computer looking for more information on these disappearances. Trying to look into the lives of the victims to discover what it is they had that strung them all together. Maybe it was just New York, but she insisted the perpetrator was the same.

After cities started to lift their quarantine, we went out more. We did more things and we’re no longer bored to tears and childish games. Lacey, however, never left that computer. She never stopped looking for that connection.

One evening as everybody was sitting around deciding what to do for the upcoming holiday, we heard a scream, a crash, and thuds coming from Lacey’s bathroom. We all ran to check on her, being greeted by the site of her grabbing her eyes, blood running through the cracks of her fingers, knuckles torn and bleeding, the broken mirror still picking off shards falling down.

The lights went out.

The screaming and banging stopped.

A suddenly came to the realization that I had not been breathing for a while. In fact I had heard no noise even breathing coming from Brianna and Abigail. Then suddenly it was loud. I wanted to scream for everyone to shut up, the noise was too loud.

Then it fell silent again, and the light suddenly came back on. Lacey was nowhere to be seen.

I’d like to tell you what I did after that but I honestly don’t remember. I woke up the next morning, a huge chunk of my life missing from my brain. Something seemed very very wrong. I went downstairs to Lacey’s room. She was not there. I went to the bathroom and everything was fine. No broken mirrors, no blood stains on the carpet or counter, nothing that seems like it would be out of the ordinary.

But I couldn’t shake that feeling that something terrible had just happened.

I don’t know how long it took for that memory to come drudging its way back up to my consciousness again. Lacey clutching at her face. The Scarlet liquid seeping through cracks dripping down her wrists. The frantic movement as Lacey threw herself around the perimeter. It was haunting.

Soon I myself became obsessed. Just another person disappearing, but this was not Coney Island.

But I see him sometimes. And Lacey was right. The first person she had heard about this from was right. All of these disappearances were connected.

Abigail got a little too drunk and a little too high and decided that she wanted to try the seance ritual again to talk to her uncle one more time. We all agreed we would try the ritual again, but I insisted it was in a different bathroom from the master. The other two girls couldn’t understand why I suddenly held an aversion, why I wouldn’t go near the master bedroom. It was like they had completely forgotten what had happened to Lacey, like she was still on that business vacation.

I relented and followed suit to set up the ritual one more time. Once again I played coach to Abigail in the dream witch wool to keep her focus on her uncle while Brianna took up the task of gathering the candles and cleaning off the bathroom counter. Even though there were less of us it took less time to get prepared, and before long we were standing in front of that mirror, our faces glowing in the candlelight.

Abigail chanted his name.

And within seconds we all found out quickly how it was that these disappearances Lacey obsessed over were connected.

Lacey’s face appeared, her eyes had been gouged out. She was scratching her face, nails bloodied, those knuckles of her still torn. There was a crash as she launched forward, the mirror breaking, shards falling down onto the counter.

The candles didn’t flicker when they went out. Instead it was like the lights being turned off, every flame extinguished immediately as though they were connected to a switch that somebody had just turned off.

Screaming, crashing, banging, and I could even hear the faint sound of a drip. Abigail was screaming and pleading for it to stop.

The candles lit up again, and we could see that the mirror was not broken or even slightly damaged. Again there was no sign that anything had dripped onto the floor or the counters. It was like none of it had happened.

Save for the fact that Abigail was missing.

And in that perfect mirror was Abigail’s uncle. That charming smile painted across his face, his eyes sparkling in the flames though they seemed hollow.

“It seemed your friend was getting a little too close to my secret,” the man said and a voice like honey.

It was in this moment that I realized why it was that Abigail had not been told about this Uncle.

He lost his charm when his smile widened and the sparkle from his eyes faded.

“Which one of you shall I choose next I wonder.”

His voice was like an oil spill drowning me in salt water filled with decaying crawfish corpses. I couldn’t move. Brianna couldn’t move. We looked at each other, the horror we felt was palpable enough that it could be cut by one of those shards of broken glass that seemed to mend themselves so easily.

Brianna doesn’t seem to remember. But me, I am obsessed. I cannot stop learning about these people that he had abducted, wondering if he had gouged their eyes out like he had done to Lacey. Wondering what other sick things he had done to them. And I see him sometimes in the reflection of the monitor. And I know who it was he picked.

[illumielnox]

In Memoriam

You made my life brighter in the darkest hours and left a paw print in my soul.

･ﾟﾟ･..･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･..･ﾟﾟ･ I love you forever. ･ﾟﾟ･..･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･..･ﾟﾟ･

Hiro ❤

Your life did not start well, but you were lucky. Kind people found you, your mum and siblings and brought you to safety. It was warm and safe there and soon you had even more playmates your age, because your mother adopted three orphan kittens.

Actually I was there because of another cat, but the nice lady asked me if I wouldn't have time to play with some older kittens. So I sat down in the room with all of you, played with your sisters while you and your brother had a bit of a tussle. Your mum, who was actually quite shy, came and sat next to me and looked at me. As if she wanted to test me. The zip of my jacket made you curious, you came to me and played with it. Then you climbed onto my lap and you didn't want to leave. Even your brother was not allowed to join you. Your mummy looked contented and purred.

You chose me.

You moved in and my other two cats accepted you immediately. You came, saw and won everyone over. The perfect fitting missing piece. You just had to be loved. You were so sweet, so friendly and outgoing. Balm for the soul.

Maybe that's why you had to depart so early, because someone somewhere else needed a friend like you. And we would somehow manage here.

Your loss came suddenly, quite abruptly, and the other two looked for you for a very long time.

Of all of us, you were the best and I will always miss you.

･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.

Capi ❤

Actually, you weren't even planned. To be more precise, I didn't know about you at first. But when Speedy came from Spain, you joined him after quarantine and you became friends. One heart and one soul. I couldn't separate the two of you. And so you and Speedy moved in with me.

My first own cats. The pretty black and white one who lived under the bed for the first few weeks. Who wouldn't let me touch him. And you. The black cat with the expression on your face as if you wanted to bite someone's hand off. You immediately explored your new realm and took over my armchair. (Your favourite place was always mine, too).

Not much was known about you. You also came from Spain, from Madrid, where you were found in a park. Young people had thrown firecrackers at you, drunks had thrown bottles. And yet you kept coming to people, you obviously knew how to live with them. You were taken in and a family in Germany wanted to adopt you… Only not to pick you up from the foster home. You lived there for weeks and months. Until Speedy arrived and decided you should be his friend.

Only later, when I looked at your passport, did I discover that you had a cat disease. FIV - Feline immunodeficiency virus, more commonly known as feline AIDS. I was a novice cat owner and knew nothing about it. The vet explained it to me, and also that you really only kept animals together that were infected. Because if you were to bite Speedy, he could get infected. The vet advised me to give you back. But I didn't want that. You had been let down so often by humans. I wanted you to stay with me, no matter how long you would live with the disease, and I was quite sure that you would never bite Speedy, or he you. The vet also said you were definitely older than the 3 years stated in the passport, probably more like 8 to 10 years.

Under your rough exterior and behind your grumpy look, however, you were a very sweet cat. You just liked to sit or lie relaxed on your favourite spots and look at your surroundings from there, warm and safe. You liked to be petted, but only when you asked for it.

In the seven years you were with me, you relaxed and warmed up. You knew that no one would hurt you. You were the diva, the little doll, everything had to be the way you wanted it, otherwise you would sulk. The cuddles became longer and at some point you slept with me in bed, of course on a pillow just for you.

You were never alone, Speedy was there and the guinea pigs, who were your favourite target for observation. Then came Hiro and after he died much too early, the nail in the coffin of your quiet life: Taiga. You probably loved him as much as you hated him. But raised him, showed him how to be the master of the house and make Hooman do what you wanted her to do.

In the end, the FIV won out because it completely shut down your immune system. Your body couldn't fight like that and so I had to let you go.

I hope you were happy here with me and your cat friends. And I hope you continue to watch over us from the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.

You were my mirror; if I were a cat, I would probably be like you.

･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.･ﾟﾟ･｡.

[quarantinehomies]

Richard: Stuck in the Middle with You

Nothing would have prepared for the news I would receive at 10:00AM on September 30th. Still sleeping, a knocking at the door awakened my conscious mind. I slowly awakened and took my time getting up, but soon the knocking turned into slamming and scratching. My legs got caught on the sheets as I open the door to find John, Zeltzin, Valerie, and Lily standing outside. Zeltzin, the one I presume was knocking at the door, presents to me a positive COVID test. Let me remind you that I had just woken myself up from a deep sleep and refused to believe that I may possibly have contracted COVID. The last time I had contracted COVID was a year before where I had suffered one of the worst fevers and headaches of my life. One COVID test later, I was faced with the undeniable truth… I had COVID. Soon after, Zeltzin, John, and I began our quarantine in my room; thankfully my roommate was back home for the time being.

As the world kept moving forward, time froze in this small dorm room. Concern for academics and well-being ceased to be of importance as we contemplate our options... Except one life-changing decisions had been made the night before this diagnosis that would alter the quarantine experience all-together. The night before this occurred, I had finally built up the courage to subtly ask Lily out on a date by writing “Do you wanna go on a beach date?” in her sketchbook. The anxiety of waiting for a response the next day worked as a distraction amidst the chaos of COVID but it wasn’t until later that day when Lily had found the note whilst we had already separated rooms. The sheer excitement and joy a simple “yes” can create was enough to forget the immediate problem of COVID. But in spite of the joyous occasion, the group had a much larger issue on our hands.

The process of emailing professors, warning friends, and calling relatives is not one I would ever like to repeat. With the sickness only getting worse and worse by the day, every moment in the room would became a blur with many of our days constituting of rotting away in bed, watching Netflix shows, and catching up with homework. But one key issue that would perpetuate this “lifestyle” was the inability to leave the room. Without the ability to get food at the dining hall or attend important lectures, our symptoms and unease would only be amplified. We would either resort to expensive fast food delivered through Grubhub or the awkward request of asking an RA or friend to deliver us dining hall food. But the longer and longer we quarantined, everyday would feel as though it were repeating itself. That was until we were faced with a dilemma… my roommate wanted to come back.

Around this time, Valerie had tested positive for COVID and had moved into my room while Lily remained in the other room. With the majority of use already occupying the whole room and my roommate insisting to return, we were forced to weigh our options. With no where else to go, quarantining in the room Lily was staying at was our only real option. The problem with that was that Lily was still testing negative despite experiencing minor symptoms. We decided to give ourselves time to think about our course of actions but as days went by, my roommate would persist. After a few days and my roommate practically demanding to return to the dorm, Lily finally tested positive. Despite what most might think, this was good thing. With my roommate satisfied and a place to quarantine, things would begin to look up.

Now reunited in one room, we would claim our respective territories; Zeltzin and Valerie in their beds, John sprawled on the floor by the entrance, Lily and I huddled together by the window. We were closer than ever before. But after a moment of joy over this reunion, we were reminded why we had to quarantine in the first place. With Lily’s symptoms getting worse overtime and the rest of us slowly recovering, we made the most of any activities we could do together before we had to separate once more. “Let’s go on a walk”, someone mentions half-jokingly. Soon, that joke would become reality as we make our way from the mountainous Merrill dorms to vast East Field. This event would later spark inspiration for more outdoor walks, which did an effective job clearing my sinuses and improving my overall health.

Soon enough, after a few more days of quarantining, Zeltzin and Valerie would be the first to test negative with John following shortly after. However after countless COVID tests with Lily everyday, there seemed like there was no hope in ever testing negative. Since John, Valerie, and Zeltzin had left for a quinceanera, we were alone in our isolation. That was until the very next day when it finally happened, a negative COVID. Freedom at last, but with the ability to reintegrate with the outside world, I tended to Lily till the very end.

[jadegrey711]

Achey Thighs

Henry Cavill x Fem!Reader

A/N: For some reason i randomly find myself writing about Henry Cavill yet again. This guy really needs to be in more movies specifically romance movies lol. So this little story is based solely on true events, the true events being that i recently tired to workout and fucking killed my legs with lunges lol. Also the source for this gif can be found in the tags

*NOT MY GIF. Source is in the Tags*

Summary: Reader decides to workout with Henry and whilst doing some lunges she overexcerts herself and her muscles ache like crazy the next day. She assures Henry that she’s fine but he sees her limping and tells her the best thing to do is to rub it out.

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

It was a new year so that meant it was time for a new you. You had to admit that during quarantine you had gotten extremely lazy; Henry did too for a bit at the very beginning. And you had to admit that having him home all the time to cook for the both of you, along with lying about and messing around anytime you wanted was pure bliss. However, as soon as production was able to ramp up again;  he was right back to his early morning routines. So, you decided that you weren’t going to be a lazy lout anymore and decided to join him in his routine one day. 

You heard the alarm buzz and gasped awake, feeling a hint of drool on the pillow. “I’m awake. I’m awake.” You muttered and twisted in bed to find Henry already sitting up and smiling down at you. 

“Babe. Are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean it’s four in the morning, this is not your usual prowling hours.” he chuckled. 

“No.” you said sitting up in bed. “I said I wanted to do this with you and I meant it.” You stated before, gruffly getting out of bed, hearing Henry’s chuckles behind you. 

“Alright then. I’ll see you downstairs in ten to fifteen minutes yeah? Make sure you bundle up. It's cold out there.”

You let out an involuntary shiver at the thought of going outside this early in the morning. 

*****

Well that wasn’t too bad of a way to spend the morning. 

You knew that Henry purposely went easy on you this morning, knowing full well that his training and morning routines don’t consist of power walking, but it made you smile to think that he did it for you. Plus, even though it was freezing outside the walk itself was wonderful; being able to take in the early morning before the world was awake, with you and Henry chatting as you walked. Towards the end of the walk and as you neared closer back to the house, Henry noticed you were starting to shiver and wrapped a strong arm around you and brought you close to him. 

You immediately let out a low moan of appreciation as you felt his heat radiate into your cold skin. “God, you’re still so warm, even after being out here for an hour!” You smiled, snuggling closer into him. 

He let out a small chuckle, tugging you tighter to him. “Don’t worry this next part won’t be nearly as cold.” he smiled. 

“What are we doing?” You asked tentatively. 

“I thought we could work on some strength training together. I know you said you wanted to get in better shape.” he paused, a smile coming to his lips. “Although I personally think you are perfect as you are.” He smiled again before placing a quick kiss to your lips, causing your cheeks to heat. “However, I thought that strength training would be a good place to start and of course it won’t be something insane.” 

“Okay, that sounds like fun. Then after that are you going to bench me?” You chuckled as he opened the door. 

“Oh hell yes. That’s the only reason for me to stay in shape. So I can pick you up and throw you over my shoulders any time I please.” He said before his hands shot out to your hips and you let out a squeal of delight; as he stole you away into the house to begin your first day of strength training.

*******

“Fuck.” You groaned as you slowly got up from the couch, trying not to wince too loud as you made your way upstairs for another ibuprofen. You knew those lunges were a bad idea, you’d never been able to do them right and in consequence you’d always gotten hurt. 

However, this time you didn’t think you’d actually hurt yourself you were just this out of shape.

As you grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, you heard Henry coming up the stairs. 

“Babe? Are you still sore?” 

“Yeah!” You shouted back from the bathroom, and a moment later Henry was standing there leaning on the bathroom door frame. 

“How bad does it hurt?” He asked, concern etching his face. He came up behind you and began rubbing your shoulders. 

You smiled. “My thighs don’t necessarily hurt, their just sore like fucking crazy.” 

Henry nodded and thought for a moment. “You’re not used to this kind of training but I’ll get you there.” He smiled. “But, I have an idea that I’m sure will help you out. Go lay down baby and I’ll be there in a second.” He said kissing your head. 

“Okay.” you nodded and tried so hard not to limp away but it was useless. You let out a loud groan as you sat on the bed, your legs outstretched in front of you as you waited for Henry to come out of the bathroom.

When he came out of the bathroom and into the bedroom he had your bottle of Aveeno lotion. You cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“What do you think you’re going to be doing with that?” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He smirked. “I know you’re sore, and it doesn’t matter how much ibuprofen you take right now the only way to really help with that soreness is to rub it out.” 

“Alright.” You said, and bit your bottom lip. “I’m liking this much better already. So you’re going to massage me? And it’s not even our anniversary!” You giggled and Henry let out a loud laugh. 

“Are you going to let me help you or are you gonna give me shit the entire time?” 

“Giving you shit is my born prerogative.” You chuckled, then got up onto your knees and reached out for him and pulled him into your embrace so you could kiss him. 

Henry slowly pulled away. “Alright, you’ve had your fun, now lay down and take off your pants.” He smirked.

“Oh! Now we’re cooking with fire!” you giggled.  

“Y/N.” He said, his face showing that he means business now. 

“Alright!” You giggled and started to take off your leggings, until you were laying on the bed in only Henry’s oversized shirt. 

“Good. Now tell me where is it sore the most? On the back of your thighs? The front? Does your calves hurt at all?” he asked his face filled with seriousness. 

“It’s the front of my thighs that hurt the most.” You said as you positioned yourself so you were laying completely flat on the bed the only thing that was elevated was your head. 

“Alright. Henry said simply, and then proceeded to climb on the bed and position himself so he was between your legs. He guided your legs so they were wrapped behind his back, and you laid open to him. 

“Henry. What are you doing?” You asked confused but intrigued just the same.

He lightly shushed you and grabbed the lotion bottle and rubbed some into his hands before he brought those strong hands down on your aching thighs.

You let out a soft hiss. But his hands didn’t waver as they continued to softly rub your thighs. He started out by using the tips of his fingers, so his touch was soft at first. Then as he continued working on your sore muscles he started using the palm of his hands. So he could work the deeper knots in the muscle. 

You let out a small sigh, as you felt your aching muscles ease under his touch, but you also felt something else as his strong hands worked you. You felt your arousal growing, watching him there between your thighs, his hands alleviating your pain but also bringing you pleasure as you watch them glide up and down your skin. His face a mask of shere concentration as he massaged you, only to look up at your face every now and again and each time he did, you could see his own arousal growing in his eyes. 

His hands moved a bit lower than they needed to, grinding them into your hips before coming back up your thighs and stopping at your knees; repeating the same motions. 

“How does this feel?” He asked, and it came out breathy. This had to be affecting him as much as it was affecting you. 

“It feels really good baby.” You purred, knowing now that you were a puddle in his hands now. 

“How good?” He licked his lips, then you felt his hands trace the inside of your thighs and before he could touch you where you needed him to, his hands went back up again. 

“Henry.” You gasped, feeling just how drenched you were for him and those hands of his right now. 

“Tell me how good it feels, Y/N.” He said, his voice holding a tone of command. His hands went back down to where they almost brushed your mound. 

“It feels so good, baby.” You purred and arched your hips up to him, letting him know exactly what you want. 

“Oh yeah?” he teased. 

“Yes.” You hissed. “Henry please, touch me.” You pleaded and to your sweet relief felt his fingers brush your pussy lips, separating them as he traced down your folds. 

“You’re so wet for me Y/N.”

You couldn’t think coherently with Henry’s fingers tracing your folds with him in between your thighs so you just nodded, feeling like you were going to explode if he didn’t properly touch you soon. 

“Such a good girl.” He purred as he put down your legs so he could lean over you and kiss you deeply. You let out a low moan as you finally got what you wanted and you felt Henry’s finger slide into, and started crooking it in a come hither motion. Adding gas to the already roaring fire inside you. 

“You know how much I love you Y/N.” he said against your neck, sucking your skin knowing that it’ll leave a mark there. 

You moaned and grabbed onto his curly locks as he pushed another finger inside of you, and you could feel that familiar climb in your lower belly as you knew you were about to reach your climax. 

“So good.” he purred in your ear and you felt yourself go over the edge and grip tightly onto his fingers as your climax raked over you. 

“God, I love you so much Henry.” You moaned somewhat unintelligently. Henry didn’t seem to mind at all as he slipped his fingers out of you and fell to the bed next to you. 

“Well that’s not at all where i intended that to go.” He laughed and you laughed with him. 

“You started it! Telling me to take off my pants then putting yourself between my legs!” you laughed. 

“Okay, maybe I did mean for it to go there.” he laughed. “So, does this mean that we’re doing this every time we work out?

[hangovercurse]

Until You Fall Asleep

After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.

Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3487

Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.

Day five

Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.

Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.

After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.

“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”

You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”

Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”

Day eight

You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.

“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.

You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”

A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”

The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”

You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”

He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”

You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”

Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”

A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”

He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”

“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.

“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”

Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”

He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”

You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”

“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Colson, you really don’t have to-“

“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

Day Twelve

“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”

Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.

The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”

You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”

“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.

You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”

“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.

Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”

Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”

You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”

He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”

About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.

Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.

Day 17

Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.

Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.

So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.

You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”

His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”

He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”

You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.

Day 25

“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”

Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”

“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”

He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”

Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”

“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”

You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”

You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”

“Darn,” you huffed.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”

Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”

He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”

“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”

Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”

“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.

You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”

It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.

Day 31

To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.

You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.

“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”

“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.

Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”

You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”

He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”

You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”

His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.

You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”

Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”

He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.

Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.

Day 37

Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.

At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.

Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.

But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.

There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”

You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”

You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.

He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”

“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.

Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”

You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”

Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”

He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.

Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”

Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.

You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.

And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?

So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.

The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”

“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”

He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”

You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.

The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”

Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”

You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”

Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”

He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”

You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”

He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”

“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”

The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”

You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.

You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”

Tag list:

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[path-of-my-childhood]

Musicians On Musicians: Paul McCartney & Taylor Swift

By: Patrick Doyle for Rolling Stone Date: November 13th 2020

On songwriting secrets, making albums at home, and what they’ve learned during the pandemic.

Taylor Swift arrived early to Paul McCartney’s London office in October, “mask on, brimming with excitement.” “I mostly work from home these days,” she writes about that day, “and today feels like a rare school field trip that you actually want to go on.”

Swift showed up without a team, doing her own hair and makeup. In addition to being two of the most famous pop songwriters in the world, Swift and McCartney have spent the past year on similar journeys. McCartney, isolated at home in the U.K., recorded McCartney III. Like his first solo album, in 1970, he played nearly all of the instruments himself, resulting in some of his most wildly ambitious songs in a long time. Swift also took some new chances, writing over email with the National’s Aaron Dessner and recording the raw Folklore, which abandons arena pop entirely in favor of rich character songs. It’s the bestselling album of 2020.

Swift listened to McCartney III as she prepared for today’s conversation; McCartney delved into Folkore. Before the photo shoot, Swift caught up with his daughters Mary (who would be photographing them) and Stella (who designed Swift’s clothes; the two are close friends). “I’ve met Paul a few times, mostly onstage at parties, but we’ll get to that later,” Swift writes. “Soon he walks in with his wife, Nancy. They’re a sunny and playful pair, and I immediately feel like this will be a good day. During the shoot, Paul dances and takes almost none of it too seriously and sings along to Motown songs playing from the speakers. A few times Mary scolds, ‘Daaad, try to stand still!’ And it feels like a window into a pretty awesome family dynamic. We walk into his office for a chat, and after I make a nervous request, Paul is kind enough to handwrite my favorite lyric of his and sign it. He makes a joke about me selling it, and I laugh because it’s something I know I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. That’s around the time when we start talking about music.”

Taylor Swift: I think it’s important to note that if this year had gone the way that we thought it was going to go, you and I would have played Glastonbury this year, and instead, you and I both made albums in isolation.

Paul McCartney: Yeah!

Swift: And I remember thinking it would have been so much fun because the times that I’ve run into you, I correlate with being some of the most fun nights of my life. I was at a party with you, when everybody just started playing music. And it was Dave Grohl playing, and you...

McCartney: You were playing one of his songs, weren’t you?

Swift: Yes, I was playing his song called “Best of You,” but I was playing it on piano, and he didn’t recognize it until about halfway through. I just remember thinking, “Are you the catalyst for the most fun times ever?” Is it your willingness to get up and play music that makes everyone feel like this is a thing that can happen tonight?

McCartney: I mean, I think it’s a bit of everything, isn’t it? I’ll tell you who was very... Reese Witherspoon was like, “Are you going to sing?” I said “Oh, I don’t know.” She said, “You’ve got to, yeah!” She’s bossing me around. So I said, “Whoa,” so it’s a bit of that.

Swift: I love that person, because the party does not turn musical without that person.

McCartney: Yeah, that’s true.

Swift: If nobody says, “Can you guys play music?” we’re not going to invite ourselves up onstage at whatever living-room party it is.

McCartney: I seem to remember Woody Harrelson got on the piano, and he starts playing “Let It Be,” and I’m thinking, “I can do that better.” So I said, “Come on, move over, Woody.” So we’re both playing it. It was really nice... I love people like Dan Aykroyd, who’s just full of energy and he loves his music so much, but he’s not necessarily a musician, but he just wanders around the room, just saying, “You got to get up, got to get up, do some stuff.”

Swift: I listened to your new record. And I loved a lot of things about it, but it really did feel like kind of a flex to write, produce, and play every instrument on every track. To me, that’s like flexing a muscle and saying, “I can do all this on my own if I have to.”

McCartney: Well, I don’t think like that, I must admit. I just picked up some of these instruments over the years. We had a piano at home that my dad played, so I picked around on that. I wrote the melody to “When I’m 64” when I was, you know, a teenager.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: When the Beatles went to Hamburg, there were always drum kits knocking around, so when there was a quiet moment, I’d say, “Do you mind if I have a knock around?” So I was able to practice, you know, without practicing. That’s why I play right-handed. Guitar was just the first instrument I got. Guitar turned to bass; it also turned into ukulele, mandolin. Suddenly, it’s like, “Wow,” but it’s really only two or three instruments.

Swift: Well, I think that’s downplaying it a little bit. In my mind, it came with a visual of you being in the country, kind of absorbing the sort of do-it-yourself [quality] that has had to come with the quarantine and this pandemic. I found that I’ve adapted a do-it-yourself mentality to a lot of things in my career that I used to outsource.  I’m just wondering what a day of recording in the pandemic looked like for you.

McCartney: Well, I’m very lucky because I have a studio that’s, like, 20 minutes away from where I live. We were in lockdown on a farm, a sheep farm with my daughter Mary and her four kids and her husband. So I had four of my grandkids, I had Mary, who’s a great cook, so I would just drive myself to the studio. And there were two other guys that could come in and we’d be very careful and distanced and everything: my engineer Steve, and then my equipment guy Keith. So the three of us made the record, and I just started off. I had to do a little bit of film music - I had to do an instrumental for a film thing - so I did that. And I just kept going, and that turned into the opening track on the album. I would just come in, say, “Oh, yeah, what are we gonna do?” [Then] have some sort of idea, and start doing it. Normally, I’d start with the instrument I wrote it on, either piano or guitar, and then probably add some drums and then a bit of bass till it started to sound like a record, and then just gradually layer it all up. It was fun.

Swift: That’s so cool.

McCartney: What about yours? You’re playing guitar and piano on yours.

Swift: Yeah, on some of it, but a lot of it was made with Aaron Dessner, who’s in a band called the National that I really love. And I had met him at a concert a year before, and I had a conversation with him, asking him how he writes. It’s my favorite thing to ask people who I’m a fan of. And he had an interesting answer. He said, “All the band members live in different parts of the world. So I make tracks. And I send them to our lead singer, Matt, and he writes the top line.” I just remember thinking, “That is really efficient.” And I kind of stored it in my brain as a future idea for a project. You know, how you have these ideas... “Maybe one day I’ll do this.” I always had in my head: “Maybe one day I’ll work with Aaron Dessner.”

So when lockdown happened, I was in L.A., and we kind of got stuck there. It’s not a terrible place to be stuck. We were there for four months maybe, and during that time, I sent an email to Aaron Dessner and I said, “Do you think you would want to work during this time? Because my brain is all scrambled, and I need to make something, even if we’re just kind of making songs that we don’t know what will happen...”

McCartney: Yeah, that was the thing. You could do stuff -  you didn’t really worry it was going to turn into anything.

Swift: Yeah, and it turned out he had been writing instrumental tracks to keep from absolutely going crazy during the pandemic as well, so he sends me this file of probably 30 instrumentals, and the first one I opened ended up being a song called “Cardigan,” and it really happened rapid-fire like that. He’d send me a track; he’d make new tracks, add to the folder; I would write the entire top line for a song, and he wouldn’t know what the song would be about, what it was going to be called, where I was going to put the chorus. I had originally thought, “Maybe I’ll make an album in the next year, and put it out in January or something,” but it ended up being done and we put it out in July. And I just thought there are no rules anymore, because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, “How will this song sound in a stadium? How will this song sound on radio?” If you take away all the parameters, what do you make? And I guess the answer is Folklore.

McCartney: And it’s more music for yourself than music that’s got to go do a job. My thing was similar to that: After having done this little bit of film music, I had a lot of stuff that I had been working on, but I’d said, “I’m just going home now,” and it’d be left half-finished. So I just started saying, “Well, what about that? I never finished that.” So we’d pull it out, and we said, “Oh, well, this could be good.” And because it didn’t have to amount to anything, I would say, “Ah, I really want to do tape loops. I don’t care if they fit on this song, I just want to do some.” So I go and make some tape loops, and put them in the song, just really trying to do stuff that I fancy.

I had no idea it would end up as an album; I may have been a bit less indulgent, but if a track was eight minutes long, to tell you the truth, what I thought was, “I’ll be taking it home tonight, Mary will be cooking, the grandkids will all be there running around, and someone, maybe Simon, Mary’s husband, is going to say, ‘What did you do today?’ And I’m going to go, ‘Oh,’ and then get my phone and play it for them.” So this became the ritual.

Swift: That’s the coziest thing I’ve ever heard.

McCartney: Well, it’s like eight minutes long, and I said, “I hate it when I’m playing someone something and it finishes after three minutes.” I kind of like that it just [continues] on.

Swift: You want to stay in the zone.

McCartney: It just keeps going on. I would just come home, “Well, what did you do today?” “Oh, well, I did this. I’m halfway through this,” or, “We finished this.”

Swift: I was wondering about the numerology element to McCartney III. McCartney I, II, and III have all come out on years with zeroes.

McCartney: Ends of decades.

Swift: Was that important?

McCartney: Yeah, well, this was being done in 2020, and I didn’t really think about it. I think everyone expected great things of 2020. “It’s gonna be great! Look at that number! 2020! Auspicious!” Then suddenly Covid hit, and it was like, “That’s gonna be auspicious all right, but maybe for the wrong reasons.” Someone said to me, “Well, you put out McCartney right after the Beatles broke up, and that was 1970, and then you did McCartney II in 1980.” And I said, “Oh, I’m going to release this in 2020 just for whatever you call it, the numerology...”

Swift: The numerology, the kind of look, the symbolism. I love numbers. Numbers kind of rule my whole world. The numbers 13... 89 is a big one. I have a few others that I find...

McCartney: Thirteen is lucky for some.

Swift: Yeah, it’s lucky for me. It’s my birthday. It’s all these weird coincidences of good things that have happened. Now, when I see it places, I look at it as a sign that things are going the way they’re supposed to. They may not be good now, they could be painful now, but things are on a track. I don’t know, I love the numerology.

McCartney: It’s spooky, Taylor. It’s very spooky. Now wait a minute: Where’d you get 89?

Swift: That’s when I was born, in 1989, and so I see it in different places and I just think it’s...

McCartney: No, it’s good. I like that, where certain things you attach yourself to, and you get a good feeling off them. I think that’s great.

Swift: Yeah, one of my favorite artists, Bon Iver, he has this thing with the number 22. But I was also wondering: You have always kind of seeked out a band or a communal atmosphere with like, you know, the Beatles and Wings, and then Egypt Station. I thought it was interesting when I realized you had made a record with no one else. I just wondered, did that feel natural?

McCartney: It’s one of the things I’ve done. Like with McCartney, because the Beatles had broken up, there was no alternative but to get a drum kit at home, get a guitar, get an amp, get a bass, and just make something for myself. So on that album, which I didn’t really expect to do very well, I don’t think it did. But people sort of say, “I like that. It was a very casual album.” It didn’t really have to mean anything. So I’ve done that, the play-everything-myself thing. And then I discovered synths and stuff, and sequencers, so I had a few of those at home. I just thought I’m going to play around with this and record it, so that became McCartney II. But it’s a thing I do. Certain people can do it. Stevie Wonder can do it. Stevie Winwood, I believe, has done it. So there are certain people quite like that.

When you’re working with someone else, you have to worry about their variances. Whereas your own variance, you kind of know it. It’s just something I’ve grown to like. Once you can do it, it becomes a little bit addictive. I actually made some records under the name the Fireman.

Swift: Love a pseudonym.

McCartney: Yeah, for the fun! But, you know, let’s face it, you crave fame and attention when you’re young. And I just remembered the other day, I was the guy in the Beatles that would write to journalists and say [speaks in a formal voice]: “We are a semiprofessional rock combo, and I’d think you’d like [us]... We’ve written over 100 songs (which was a lie), my friend John and I. If you mention us in your newspaper...” You know, I was always, like, craving the attention.

Swift: The hustle! That’s so great, though.

McCartney: Well, yeah, you need that.

Swift: Yeah, I think, when a pseudonym comes in is when you still have a love for making the work and you don’t want the work to become overshadowed by this thing that’s been built around you, based on what people know about you. And that’s when it’s really fun to create fake names and write under them.

McCartney: Do you ever do that?

Swift: Oh, yeah.

McCartney: Oh, yeah? Oh, well, we didn’t know that! Is that a widely known fact?

Swift: I think it is now, but it wasn’t. I wrote under the name Nils Sjöberg because those are two of the most popular names of Swedish males. I wrote this song called “This Is What You Came For” that Rihanna ended up singing. And nobody knew for a while. I remembered always hearing that when Prince wrote “Manic Monday,” they didn’t reveal it for a couple of months.

McCartney: Yeah, it also proves you can do something without the fame tag. I did something for Peter and Gordon; my girlfriend’s brother and his mate were in a band called Peter and Gordon. And I used to write under the name Bernard Webb.

Swift: [Laughs.] That’s a good one! I love it.

McCartney: As Americans call it, Ber-nard Webb. I did the Fireman thing. I worked with a producer, a guy called Youth, who’s this real cool dude. We got along great. He did a mix for me early on, and we got friendly. I would just go into the studio, and he would say, “Hey, what about this groove?” and he’d just made me have a little groove going. He’d say, “You ought to put some bass on it. Put some drums on it.” I’d just spend the whole day putting stuff on it. And we’d make these tracks, and nobody knew who Fireman was for a while. We must have sold all of 15 copies.

Swift: Thrilling, absolutely thrilling.

McCartney: And we didn’t mind, you know?

Swift: I think it’s so cool that you do projects that are just for you. Because I went with my family to see you in concert in 2010 or 2011, and the thing I took away from the show most was that it was the most selfless set list I had ever seen. It was completely geared toward what it would thrill us to hear. It had new stuff, but it had every hit we wanted to hear, every song we’d ever cried to, every song people had gotten married to, or been brokenhearted to. And I just remembered thinking, “I’ve got to remember that,” that you do that set list for your fans.

McCartney: You do that, do you?

Swift: I do now. I think that learning that lesson from you taught me at a really important stage in my career that if people want to hear “Love Story” and “Shake It Off,” and I’ve played them 300 million times, play them the 300-millionth-and-first time. I think there are times to be selfish in your career, and times to be selfless, and sometimes they line up.

McCartney: I always remembered going to concerts as a kid, completely before the Beatles, and I really hoped they would play the ones I loved. And if they didn’t, it was kind of disappointing. I had no money, and the family wasn’t wealthy. So this would be a big deal for me, to save up for months to afford the concert ticket.

Swift: Yeah, it feels like a bond. It feels like that person on the stage has given something, and it makes you as a crowd want to give even more back, in terms of applause, in terms of dedication. And I just remembered feeling that bond in the crowd, and thinking, “He’s up there playing these Beatles songs, my dad is crying, my mom is trying to figure out how to work her phone because her hands are shaking so much.” Because seeing the excitement course through not only me, but my family and the entire crowd in Nashville, it just was really special. I love learning lessons and not having to learn them the hard way. Like learning nice lessons I really value.

McCartney: Well, that’s great, and I’m glad that set you on that path. I understand people who don’t want to do that, and if you do, they’ll say, “Oh, it’s a jukebox show.” I hear what they’re saying. But I think it’s a bit of a cheat, because the people who come to our shows have spent a lot of money. We can afford to go to a couple of shows and it doesn’t make much difference. But a lot of ordinary working folks... it’s a big event in their life, and so I try and deliver. I also, like you say, try and put in a few weirdos.

Swift: That’s the best. I want to hear current things, too, to update me on where the artist is. I was wondering about lyrics, and where you were lyrically when you were making this record. Because when I was making Folklore, I went lyrically in a total direction of escapism and romanticism. And I wrote songs imagining I was, like, a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair [laughs]. I was completely...

McCartney: Was this “I want to give you a child”? Is that one of the lines?

Swift: Oh, that’s a song called “Peace.”

McCartney: “Peace,” I like that one.

Swift: “Peace” is actually more rooted in my personal life. I know you have done a really excellent job of this in your personal life: carving out a human life within a public life, and how scary that can be when you do fall in love and you meet someone, especially if you’ve met someone who has a very grounded, normal way of living. I, oftentimes, in my anxieties, can control how I am as a person and how normal I act and rationalize things, but I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and what they do and if they follow our car and if they interrupt our lives. I can’t control if there’s going to be a fake weird headline about us in the news tomorrow.

McCartney: So how does that go? Does your partner sympathize with that and understand?

Swift: Oh, absolutely.

McCartney: They have to, don’t they?

Swift: But I think that in knowing him and being in the relationship I am in now, I have definitely made decisions that have made my life feel more like a real life and less like just a storyline to be commented on in tabloids. Whether that’s deciding where to live, who to hang out with, when to not take a picture - the idea of privacy feels so strange to try to explain, but it’s really just trying to find bits of normalcy. That’s what that song “Peace” is talking about. Like, would it be enough if I could never fully achieve the normalcy that we both crave? Stella always tells me that she had as normal a childhood as she could ever hope for under the circumstances.

McCartney: Yeah, it was very important to us to try and keep their feet on the ground amongst the craziness.

Swift: She went to a regular school...

McCartney: Yeah, she did.

Swift: And you would go trick-or-treating with them, wearing masks.

McCartney: All of them did, yeah. It was important, but it worked pretty well, because when they kind of reached adulthood, they would meet other kids who might have gone to private schools, who were a little less grounded.

And they could be the budding mothers to [kids]. I remember Mary had a friend, Orlando. Not Bloom. She used to really counsel him. And it’s ’cause she’d gone through that. Obviously, they got made fun of, my kids. They’d come in the classroom and somebody would sing, “Na na na na,” you know, one of the songs. And they’d have to handle that. They’d have to front it out.

Swift: Did that give you a lot of anxiety when you had kids, when you felt like all this pressure that’s been put on me is spilling over onto them, that they didn’t sign up for it? Was that hard for you?

McCartney: Yeah, a little bit, but it wasn’t like it is now. You know, we were just living a kind of semi-hippie life, where we withdrew from a lot of stuff. The kids would be doing all the ordinary things, and their school friends would be coming up to the house and having parties, and it was just great. I remember one lovely evening when it was Stella’s birthday, and she brought a bunch of school kids up. And, you know, they’d all ignore me. It happens very quickly. At first they’re like, “Oh, yeah, he’s like a famous guy,” and then it’s like [yawns]. I like that. I go in the other room and suddenly I hear this music going on. And one of the kids, his name was Luke, and he’s doing break dancing.

Swift: Ohhh!

McCartney: He was a really good break dancer, so all the kids are hanging out. That allowed them to be kind of normal with those kids. The other thing is, I don’t live fancy. I really don’t. Sometimes it’s a little bit of an embarrassment, if I’ve got someone coming to visit me, or who I know…

Swift: Cares about that stuff?

McCartney: Who’s got a nice big house, you know. Quincy Jones came to see me and I’m, like, making him a veggie burger or something. I’m doing some cooking. This was after I’d lost Linda, in between there. But the point I’m making is that I’m very consciously thinking, “Oh, God, Quincy’s got to be thinking, ‘What is this guy on? He hasn’t got big things going on. It’s not a fancy house at all. And we’re eating in the kitchen! He’s not even got the dining room going,’” you know?

Swift: I think that sounds like a perfect day.

McCartney: But that’s me. I’m awkward like that. That’s my kind of thing. Maybe I should have, like, a big stately home. Maybe I should get a staff. But I think I couldn’t do that. I’d be so embarrassed. I’d want to walk around dressed as I want to walk around, or naked, if I wanted to.

Swift: That can’t happen in Downton Abbey.

McCartney: [Laughs.] Exactly.

Swift: I remember what I wanted to know about, which is lyrics. Like, when you’re in this kind of strange, unparalleled time, and you’re making this record, are lyrics first? Or is it when you get a little melodic idea?

McCartney: It was a bit of both. As it kind of always is with me. There’s no fixed way. People used to ask me and John, “Well, who does the words, who does the music?” I used to say, “We both do both.” We used to say we don’t have a formula, and we don’t want one. Because the minute we get a formula, we should rip it up. I will sometimes, as I did with a couple of songs on this album, sit down at the piano and just start noodling around, and I’ll get a little idea and start to fill that out. So the lyrics - for me, it’s following a trail. I’ll start [sings “Find My Way,” a song from “McCartney III”]: “I can find my way. I know my left from right, da da da.” And I’ll just sort of fill it in. Like, we know this song, and I’m trying to remember the lyrics. Sometimes I’ll just be inspired by something. I had a little book which was all about the constellations and the stars and the orbits of Venus and...

Swift: Oh, I know that song - “The Kiss of Venus”?

McCartney: Yeah, “The Kiss of Venus.” And I just thought, “That’s a nice phrase.” So I was actually just taking phrases out of the book, harmonic sounds. And the book is talking about the maths of the universe, and how when things orbit around each other, and if you trace all the patterns, it becomes like a lotus flower.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: It’s very magical.

Swift: That is magical. I definitely relate to needing to find magical things in this very not-magical time, needing to read more books and learn to sew, and watch movies that take place hundreds of years ago. In a time where, if you look at the news, you just want to have a panic attack - I really relate to the idea that you are thinking about stars and constellations.

McCartney: Did you do that on Folklore?

Swift: Yes. I was reading so much more than I ever did, and watching so many more films.

McCartney: What stuff were you reading?

Swift: I was reading, you know, books like Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, which I highly recommend, and books that dealt with times past, a world that doesn’t exist anymore. I was also using words I always wanted to use - kind of bigger, flowerier, prettier words, like “epiphany,” in songs. I always thought, “Well, that’ll never track on pop radio,” but when I was making this record, I thought, “What tracks? Nothing makes sense anymore. If there’s chaos everywhere, why don’t I just use the damn word I want to use in the song?”

McCartney: Exactly. So you’d see the word in a book and think, “I love that word”?

Swift: Yeah, I have favorite words, like “elegies” and “epiphany” and “divorcée,” and just words that I think sound beautiful, and I have lists and lists of them.

McCartney: How about “marzipan”?

Swift: Love “marzipan.”

McCartney: The other day, I was remembering when we wrote “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds”: “kaleidoscope.”

Swift: “Kaleidoscope” is one of mine! I have a song on 1989, a song called “Welcome to New York,” that I put the word “kaleidoscope” in just because I’m obsessed with the word.

McCartney: I think a love of words is a great thing, particularly if you’re going to try to write a lyric, and for me, it’s like, “What is this going to say to that person?” I often feel like I’m writing to someone who is not doing so well. So I’m trying to write songs that might help. Not in a goody-goody, crusading kind of way, but just thinking there have been so many times in my life when I’ve heard a song and felt so much better. I think that’s the angle I want, that inspirational thing.

I remember once, a friend of mine from Liverpool, we were teenagers and we were going to a fairground. He was a schoolmate, and we had these jackets that had a little fleck in the material, which was the cool thing at the time.

Swift: We should have done matching jackets for this photo shoot.

McCartney: Find me a fleck, I’m in. But we went to the fair, and I just remember - this is what happens with songs - there was this girl at the fair. This is just a little Liverpool fair - it was in a place called Sefton Park - and there was this girl, who was so beautiful. She wasn’t a star. She was so beautiful. Everyone was following her, and it’s like, “Wow.” It’s like a magical scene, you know? But all this gave me a headache, so I ended up going back to his house - I didn’t normally get headaches. And we thought, “What can we do?” So we put on the Elvis song “All Shook Up.” By the end of that song, my headache had gone. I thought, you know, “That’s powerful.”

Swift: That really is powerful.

McCartney: I love that, when people stop me in the street and say, “Oh, I was going through an illness and I listened to a lot of your stuff, and I’m better now and it got me through,” or kids will say, “It got me through exams.” You know, they’re studying, they’re going crazy, but they put your music on. I’m sure it happens with a lot of your fans. It inspires them, you know?

Swift: Yeah, I definitely think about that as a goal. There’s so much stress everywhere you turn that I kind of wanted to make an album that felt sort of like a hug, or like your favorite sweater that makes you feel like you want to put it on.

McCartney: What, a “cardigan”?

Swift: Like a good cardigan, a good, worn-in cardigan. Or something that makes you reminisce on your childhood. I think sadness can be cozy. It can obviously be traumatic and stressful, too, but I kind of was trying to lean into sadness that feels like somehow enveloping in not such a scary way - like nostalgia and whimsy incorporated into a feeling like you’re not all right. Because I don’t think anybody was really feeling like they were in their prime this year. Isolation can mean escaping into your imagination in a way that’s kind of nice.

McCartney: I think a lot of people have found that. I would say to people, “I feel a bit guilty about saying I’m actually enjoying this quarantine thing,” and people go, “Yeah, I know, don’t say it to anyone.” A lot of people are really suffering.

Swift: Because there’s a lot in life that’s arbitrary. Completely and totally arbitrary. And [the quarantine] is really shining a light on that, and also a lot of things we have that we outsource that you can actually do yourself.

McCartney: I love that. This is why I said I live simply. That’s, like, at the core of it. With so many things, something goes wrong and you go, “Oh, I’ll get somebody to fix that.” And then it’s like, “No, let me have a look at it...”

Swift: Get a hammer and a nail.

McCartney: “Maybe I can put that picture up.” It’s not rocket science. The period after the Beatles, when we went to live in Scotland on a really - talk about dumpy - little farm. I mean, I see pictures of it now and I’m not ashamed, but I’m almost ashamed. Because it’s like, “God, nobody’s cleaned up around here.”

But it was really a relief. Because when I was with the Beatles, we’d formed Apple Records, and if I wanted a Christmas tree, someone would just buy it. And I thought, after a while, “No, you know what? I really would like to go and buy our Christmas tree. Because that’s what everyone does.” So you go down - “I’ll have that one” - and you carried it back. I mean, it’s little, but it’s huge at the same time.

I needed a table in Scotland and I was looking through a catalog and I thought, “I could make one. I did woodwork in school, so I know what a dovetail joint is.” So I just figured it out. I’m just sitting in the kitchen, and I’m whittling away at this wood and I made this little joint. There was no nail technology - it was glue. And I was scared to put it together. I said, “It’s not going to fit,” but one day, I got my woodwork glue and thought, “There’s no going back.” But it turned out to be a real nice little table I was very proud of. It was that sense of achievement.

The weird thing was, Stella went up to Scotland recently and I said, “Isn’t it there?” and she said, “No.” Anyway, I searched for it. Nobody remembered it. Somebody said, “Well, there’s a pile of wood in the corner of one of the barns, maybe that’s it. Maybe they used it for firewood.” I said, “No, it’s not firewood.” Anyway, we found it, and do you know how joyous that was for me? I was like, “You found my table?!” Somebody might say that’s a bit boring.

Swift: No, it’s cool!

McCartney: But it was a real sort of great thing for me to be able to do stuff for yourself. You were talking about sewing. I mean normally, in your position, you’ve got any amount of tailors.

Swift: Well, there’s been a bit of a baby boom recently; several of my friends have gotten pregnant.

McCartney: Oh, yeah, you’re at the age.

Swift: And I was just thinking, “I really want to spend time with my hands, making something for their children.” So I made this really cool flying-squirrel stuffed animal that I sent to one of my friends. I sent a teddy bear to another one, and I started making these little silk baby blankets with embroidery. It’s gotten pretty fancy. And I’ve been painting a lot.

McCartney: What do you paint? Watercolors?

Swift: Acrylic or oil. Whenever I do watercolor, all I paint is flowers. When I have oil, I really like to do landscapes. I always kind of return to painting a lonely little cottage on a hill.

McCartney: It’s a bit of a romantic dream. I agree with you, though, I think you’ve got to have dreams, particularly this year. You’ve got to have something to escape to. When you say “escapism,” it sounds like a dirty word, but this year, it definitely wasn’t. And in the books you’re reading, you’ve gone into that world. That’s, I think, a great thing. Then you come back out. I normally will read a lot before I go to bed. So I’ll come back out, then I’ll go to sleep, so I think it really is nice to have those dreams that can be fantasies or stuff you want to achieve.

Swift: You’re creating characters. This was the first album where I ever created characters, or wrote about the life of a real-life person. There’s a song called “The Last Great American Dynasty” that’s about this real-life heiress who lived just an absolutely chaotic, hectic...

McCartney: She’s a fantasy character?

Swift: She’s a real person. Who lived in the house that I live in.

McCartney: She’s a real person? I listened to that and I thought, “Who is this?”

Swift: Her name was Rebekah Harkness. And she lived in the house that I ended up buying in Rhode Island. That’s how I learned about her. But she was a woman who was very, very talked about, and everything she did was scandalous. I found a connection in that. But I also was thinking about how you write “Eleanor Rigby” and go into that whole story about what all these people in this town are doing and how their lives intersect, and I hadn’t really done that in a very long time with my music. It had always been so microscope personal.

McCartney: Yeah, ’cause you were writing breakup songs like they were going out of style.

Swift: I was, before my luck changed [laughs]. I still write breakup songs. I love a good breakup song. Because somewhere in the world, I always have a friend going through a breakup, and that will make me write one.

McCartney: Yeah, this goes back to this thing of me and John: When you’ve got a formula, break it. I don’t have a formula. It’s the mood I’m in. So I love the idea of writing a character. And, you know, trying to think, “What am I basing this on?” So “Eleanor Rigby” was based on old ladies I knew as a kid. For some reason or other, I got great relationships with a couple of local old ladies. I was thinking the other day, I don’t know how I met them, it wasn’t like they were family. I’d just run into them, and I’d do their shopping for them.

Swift: That’s amazing.

McCartney: It just felt good to me. I would sit and talk, and they’d have amazing stories. That’s what I liked. They would have stories from the wartime - because I was born actually in the war - and so these old ladies, they were participating in the war. This one lady I used to sort of just hang out with, she had a crystal radio that I found very magical. In the war, a lot of people made their own radios - you’d make them out of crystals [sings “The Twilight Zone” theme].

Swift: How did I not know this? That sounds like something I would have tried to learn about.

McCartney: It’s interesting, because there is a lot of parallels with the virus and lockdowns and wartime. It happened to everyone. Like, this isn’t HIV, or SARS, or Avian flu, which happened to others, generally. This has happened to everyone, all around the world. That’s the defining thing about this particular virus. And, you know, my parents... it happened to everyone in Britain, including the queen and Churchill. War happened. So they were all part of this thing, and they all had to figure out a way through it. So you figured out Folklore. I figured out McCartney III.

Swift: And a lot of people have been baking sourdough bread. Whatever gets you through!

McCartney: Some people used to make radios. And they’d take a crystal - we should look it up, but it actually is a crystal. I thought, “Oh, no, they just called it a crystal radio,” but it’s actually crystals like we know and love.

Swift: Wow.

McCartney: And somehow they get the radio waves - this crystal attracts them - they tune it in, and that’s how they used to get their news. Back to “Eleanor Rigby,” so I would think of her and think of what she’s doing and then just try to get lyrical, just try to bring poetry into it, words you love, just try to get images like “picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been,” and Father McKenzie “is darning his socks in the night.” You know, he’s a religious man, so I could’ve said, you know, “preparing his Bible,” which would have been more obvious. But “darning his socks” kind of says more about him. So you get into this lovely fantasy. And that’s the magic of songs, you know. It’s a black hole, and then you start doing this process, and then there’s this beautiful little flower that you’ve just made. So it is very like embroidery, making something.

Swift: Making a table.

McCartney: Making a table.

Swift: Wow, it would’ve been so fun to play Glastonbury for the 50th anniversary together.

McCartney: It would’ve been great, wouldn’t it? And I was going to be asking you to play with me.

Swift: Were you going to invite me? I was hoping that you would. I was going to ask you.

McCartney: I would’ve done “Shake It Off.”

Swift: Oh, my God, that would have been amazing.

McCartney: I know it, it’s in C!

Swift: One thing I just find so cool about you is that you really do seem to have the joy of it, still, just no matter what. You seem to have the purest sense of joy of playing an instrument and making music, and that’s just the best, I think.

McCartney: Well, we’re just so lucky, aren’t we?

Swift: We’re really lucky.

McCartney: I don’t know if it ever happens to you, but with me, it’s like, “Oh, my god, I’ve ended up as a musician.”

Swift: Yeah, I can’t believe it’s my job.

McCartney: I must tell you a story I told Mary the other day, which is just one of my favorite little sort of Beatles stories. We were in a terrible, big blizzard, going from London to Liverpool, which we always did. We’d be working in London and then drive back in the van, just the four of us with our roadie, who would be driving. And this was a blizzard. You couldn’t see the road. At one point, it slid off and it went down an embankment. So it was “Ahhh,” a bunch of yelling. We ended up at the bottom. It didn’t flip, luckily, but so there we are, and then it’s like, “Oh, how are we going to get back up? We’re in a van. It’s snowing, and there’s no way.” We’re all standing around in a little circle, and thinking, “What are we going to do?” And one of us said, “Well, something will happen.” And I thought that was just the greatest. I love that, that’s a philosophy.

Swift: “Something will happen.”

McCartney: And it did. We sort of went up the bank, we thumbed a lift, we got the lorry driver to take us, and Mal, our roadie, sorted the van and everything. So that was kind of our career. And I suppose that’s like how I ended up being a musician and a songwriter: “Something will happen.”

Swift: That’s the best.

McCartney: It’s so stupid it’s brilliant. It’s great if you’re ever in that sort of panic attack: “Oh, my God,” or, “Ahhh, what am I going to do?”

Swift: “Something will happen.”

McCartney: All right then, thanks for doing this, and this was, you know, a lot of fun.

Swift: You’re the best. This was so awesome. Those were some quality stories!