#taylor swift young

[iavender-haze]

taylor swift at country music awards, 2007.

one thousand followers special

[hromantics]

TAYLOR SWIFT DEBUT ANNIVERSARY: Taylor Swift talking about meeting Toby Keith (2005)

[debut-era]

its fearless

[swiftholiday]

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor Swift's ''Only The Young'' earned its biggest streaming day since May 2022 on Election Day 2024 (up 200%)

(November 7, 2024)

[thdalsk]

This was originally just supposed to be my MC in her dress but then I drew M’s reaction and things spiraled from there… 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

The Ballad of the Young Gods by @childrenofcain-if! <3

[childrenofcain-if]

Will we be able to write songs with D? I want to be on that Daisy Jones and Billy Dunne beat like 👀

dust motes swirled like confetti in the amber glow of D’s open window in their dorm room. a half-empty coffee cup sat cold on the floor beside a sprawl of crumpled lyric sheets, their edges stained with frustrated scribbles of ink.

D was perched on the edge of their bed, their old yamaha acoustic guitar balanced on their knee, fingers absently plucking a chord progression that had gone stale hours ago. their brown hair fell in a disheveled curtain over their face, pale skin flushed with agitation, grey eyes narrowed at the notebook propped open beside them.

you sat on their desk, your back against the chair, a dog-eared copy of ‘dead souls’ by nikolai gogol cracked open in your lap. but you hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes. how could you, when D had been muttering curses under their breath for the past hour, tossing guitar picks at the trash can (missing every time), and sighing like a mediaeval peasant sentenced to the gallows.

finally, they slammed their palm against the guitar’s body, the sound a dull thud.

“this is such bullshit,” they lamented, voice frayed with the gravitas of an emmy award winner. “my creativity’s completely left me. you might as well kill me now and arrange the flowers for my funeral.”

you glanced up, biting back a smile. “drowning in self-pity? that’s a new look for you.”

“don’t even get me started,” D said with a groan. “all i’m doing is playing a sad little E minor and G like some washed-up loser in a dive bar trying to play wonderwall while everyone boos.”

you raised an eyebrow. “that’s oddly specific.”

“it’s a gift,” D said, waving their hand. “hyper-specificity happens to be my expertise.”

you snorted in amusement before setting the book down on the desk and tilting your head at them. “want help?”

there was a beat. just long enough for six full seconds of silence to settle, for you to wonder if it was the right thing to even offer.

“you want to help me write a song?” they asked, a little slower this time, like they were testing the words on their tongue.

you shrugged, trying to look casual. “i mean, i’ve already sat through an hour of you beating yourself up over this. might as well help you get out of your slump.”

a slow smile crept onto their face, lazy and crooked, but delighted all the same. “huh. alright. let’s do this.”

little did you know that D hated co-writing. their bandmates had complained about it to anyone who’d listen—how D would bristle, huff, and leave the room if anyone tried to suggest a lyric. songwriting was a refuge that they wouldn’t let anyone share alongside them.

but for you? they’d made an exception. of course, that was one of many exceptions D had made for you since you’d met—letting you stay until morning in their dorm room. letting you nap on their shoulder even though they hated it when other people did it. waiting to light their cigarette until you weren’t around because you said the smoke made you dizzy.

they couldn’t name them all. couldn’t count how many times they’d happily let you in past the walls they never let anyone even scale. but that didn’t matter right now.

you reached for the keyboard on the desk—a little synth D had barely touched in weeks—and switched it on. they watched you skeptically, but didn’t protest when you tapped a tentative melody—a minor key, wistful and slow, like smoke curling from a dying fire.

you hummed, the tune catching in your throat, your brow furrowed the way it always was when you were trying to fish something delicate out of your mind and set it gently out into the world.

D’s smile deepened as their fingers resumed plucking at the guitar strings, softly, just a counter-melody behind yours.

“and the tennis court was covered up…” you hummed, testing the cadence.

“with some tent-like thing...?” they muttered, a little unsure before brightening up at your encouraging nod.

“and you asked me to dance,” you continued, your voice gaining strength, “but i said, ‘dancing is a dangerous game.’”

D blinked once, then twice. then: “oh. oh. how the hell are you so good at this?”

you laughed, cheeks warming at the unexpected praise. “am i? i’m just winging it.”

D nodded, almost reverent. “winging it better than i’ve been trying for three days.”

you chuckled, shaking your head and continuing as the lyrics formed in your head like a bunch of threads being tied together.

“oh, i thought this is gonna be one of those things…”

the melody started to build underneath your fingertips, a natural kind of belonging threaded in each note which matched the longing in D’s grey eyes. their chords caught up to yours almost effortlessly, harmonizing without stepping on the lines. it was like you’d found a secret corridor, somewhere between you two, where the song already lived for decades before you found it together.

you looked at D. “now i know...”

“i’m never gonna love again,” D sang as they inhaled slowly, eyes still fixed on your face.

“i’ve got some tricks up my sleeve,” you continued, “takes one to know one.”

D’s voice followed yours, low and rasping and so beautiful it made your stomach twist pleasantly. “you’re a cowboy like me...”

their guitar picked up, louder now, catching momentum like a river current.

“never wanted love, just a fancy car,” you smiled as you sang it, because it sounded just like them.

“now look who’s the one getting specific,” D quipped with a smirk.

you laughed, but the music didn’t stop. your voices layered together, overlapping like sheets of glass. the story was forming, piece by piece, between your fingers. a story of two people too clever for their own good. bandits and cowboys. lonely grifters who fell in love because they saw themselves in each other.

D shook their head in wonder, like they couldn’t believe this was happening. like you were magic. like you were prometheus handing them fire and not asking for anything in return except companionship.

“it could be love,” you whispered-sang, trying your best not to make it sound too real in D’s presence. “i could be the way forward only if they pay for it.”

D followed up as their expression turned even softer, “you’re a bandit like me, eyes full of stars...”

it was then that you’d come to the realisation that you were both singing to each other rather than making up something about two fictional people. you didn’t know if D had a similar epiphany but you revelled in this quaint little process.

a strange sort of ache filled your heart, it was like falling in love with a ghost, or dreaming out loud. how you longed to reach out and cup their cheek, never breaking your gazes and only closing your eyes when you feel the brush of their lips against yours.

your longing was spelled out as you sang, “now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon...”

D’s fingers stumbled on the frets. their throat worked, eyes flicking to your mouth as if the words had physically pulled their attention there.

“i’m never gonna love again…” D’s voice cracked on the final line as the guitar rang out with a hum.

you sat in silence afterward, breathing hard, as if you’d just ran a marathon together.

D set the guitar to the side with care, and turned towards you. their eyes were softer than you’d ever seen.

“that was…” they started, then stopped, shook their head, and tried again. “where had you been hiding all that talent?”

you smiled. “being in the presence of a good songwriter helped a lot.”

D laughed almost in disbelief before the room went silent again. they then nodded once, as if agreeing with something only they could hear.

“we should do this again sometime,” they said as they looked away, although it sounded strangely like a plea more than anything.

you frowned, worried about their sudden change in tone. you dragged the chair closer to side of the bed until your knees touched. “of course. anytime.”

D lifted their gaze back to you, looking a little too vulnerable for their own comfort. at the moment, they felt as fragile as the spiderwebs clinging outside their windowpane. slowly, as if moving through honey, their left hand reached out and traced your cheekbone before tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. their fingertips lingered, calloused and warm.

“no one could ever compare to you,” they whispered in reverie.

“takes one to know one,” you whispered back, quoting the song you two had just written.

a smile took over your face as they leaned in to rest their forehead against yours. “you know, we actually forgot to write the lyrics down.”

you pulled away with your jaw on the floor. “what?! and you’re reminding me just now?!”

D couldn’t help but laugh as you got more agitated.

“it’s not funny! we didn’t sit here and do all that for no—”

you and your thoughts were promptly shut up by the feeling of D’s warm, plump lips on yours. it was a distraction you didn’t mind having after all.

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

You ever listen to a Taylor song and just get hit with a lyric and you’re like “damn she was how old when she wrote this?!?!”

[ricochetyears]

it physically hurts every time i listen to labyrinth by taylor swift because it’s SO wolfstar and SO jegulus coded like their whole feelings realization is just uh oh i’m falling in love / on ho i’m falling in love

star you would break your back to make me break a smile chaser

wolf I thought the plane was going down how'd you turn it right around star

[swiftdreamsandmagic]

who remembers Fearless tour?

[rogata453]

Sirius „and I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes: I’ll get older, but your lovers stay my age” Black

[n0anix]

enjoyed this podcast very much (he is ignoring all the angst)

anyways, doodles

[debut-era]

Fearless Tour (2009) - Manchester, UK

[s1r1us0black]

I feel like these songs were written for wolfstar.

Fool's Gold by Lucy Dacus: ♪"He'll blame the alcohol and you'll blame the full moon."♫︎

Cardigan by Taylor Swift: ♫︎"You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin'."♪

[pendragaryen]

It was rare, I was there I remember it all too well Wind in my hair, you were there You remember it all Down the stairs, you were there You remember it all It was rare, I was there I remember it all too well...

Pics by @merlination and me. Please don't use without my permission. In memoriam September 2012, shooting of Merlin BBC's last season in France, Chateau de Pierrefonds. Forever and always grateful that we had the chance to witness it, to be there.

It was rare... indeed. So much love. Always.

[taylorlq]

taylor in her re-e-ed era !!