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thesillestluxeandcastiel · 7 months

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Don't!

Cordell Walker x Suicidal!Child!Reader

Author summary: Reader suffers from self harm and Cordell is blind enough to ignore the warning signs untill they fully try to commit.

Tw: Cursing, Heavy agnst, Heavy Fluff, Self harm mention, and Suicide mention.

S/C = Selected Clothes

W/J = Wanted Job

So, here we are folks! As much as I'd like to send all of you to therapy myself, I cannot. As someone who struggles with the same things, if you can, PLEASE get help. Either that, or call the suicide and self harm prevention hotline. (988) thank you for listening to my rant as someone who goes through the same things, and has lost quite a few people from these things.

Also, the x reader (romantic) will be out shortly. Probably the same storyline, just adjusted.

Thank you for reading my rant lovelies. Looks like I've kept you long enough, so let's get movin on, shall we?

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You groaned softly as you woke up. Smelling Grandma and Grandpas 'famous' bacon. You smiled, and got up. Quickly realizing the blade you had used yesterday was still left on your counter. 'Shit, shit what if dad saw? What if August saw? Stella?!' You thought, rushing over to lock it in one of your drawers. You sighed, hoping it was none of the above.

See, you were the middle child. August was the youngest, and Stella was the oldest. Obviously, you were different. Y/n Walker. 'What a wonderful name,' You thought sarcastically as you got up to look into the mirror. Last night you had only worn a S/C and some underwear, so you lifted up the sleeves of your S/Cto see the damage.

'Holy shit. That...that might be permanent.' You thought as you stared at self-inflicted scars with wide eyes. Then, suddenly Stella bursted into your room. "Hey, dad sent me in here to wake you- oh your already up!" She smiled at you. You quickly pulled down your sleeves, smiling back at her. "Yes Ms Blue, I am. Nowww I would like to get dressed, if you don't mind." You retorted, smiling and leaning your head towards the door. She groaned, and walked out the door with a smile.

'Now, what the fuck do I wear to hide all this shit?' You thought, staring at yourself in the mirror again.

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You had chosen a simple sweater and jeans. Also a belt. Only problem was it was a very hot day in Texas, so you were sweating bullets. Especially because you were doing chores with your dad.

Cordell quickly noticed something was wrong with your outfit. It was what, 90 degrees? Why are you wearing a sweater??

"Yknow, it might be easier if you just took the sweater off, N/n." He stated, focusing on carving the new post just right.

You bit your lip and mentally panicked because what the fuck were you supposed to say?

"Uh- well, it's my favorite sweater so... I'll just wear it for now!" You knew that wouldn't keep your father away for too long, especially sense it's... Him. But he brushed it off for now, making conversations here and there as he worked. You let out a quiet sigh of relief.

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You sat down at the dinner table. Luckily, no one was here currently so you could just relax for once. You sighed, and put your head into your hands, rubbing your temples. 'Today has been one hell of a day,' you thought, chuckling slightly. Then, you felt a figure slide into the chair in front of you. You looked up to see a very serious Liam staring back at you.

"N/n." He started, staring at your arms. Then, the anxiety rushed to your head, fearful of what he could've found.

"Do you mind explaining," he started, and then whipped out your journal and slammed it onto the table. "This? And don't play dumb with me, I read it. All of it." He explained, staring at you with worried eyes.

"U-uncle liam, i-" you started, tearing up. Quickly, you forced the tears back down. After mom, you promised yourself you wouldn't cry.

"I, uhm, have been struggling, a lot recently. As you probably read." You stated, motioning at the journal. He nodded.

"I understand that, but talk to one of us. Me, Your grandpa, hell, does your dad even know?" He asked, staring at you with concerned, but angry/disappointed eyes. Suddenly, Cordell walked in.

"Do I know what?" He asked, looking between you and Liam.

You looked at Liam with 'please, I'll tell him on my own time. Just don't do this!' Eyes, holding a breath. Liam sighed.

"Oh, uhm nothing much. Just discussing career paths with N/n over here. Yknow, it's crazy, they told me they want to work at a w/j!" He responded smiling quickly to cover the act, and you sighed a heavy sigh of relief. He probably got that from your journal. You smiled and looked at your father, nodding.

Cordell shrugged. He knew something was up, but it couldn't be Serious enough that his brother would lie to him about his own kid, right? He smiled, and went to sit next to you.

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It was, what? 3:30 am and here you are. Having a panic attack over cutting yourself. Again. 'Screw it, I'm ending this. Tonight.' You thought, sneaking out of your room quickly and quietly, trying not to make a lot of noise to wake anyone. Successfully, you had made it out the door.

See, Y/n walker didn't take special classes for nothing. You pulled a little trick, and managed to grab the keys for the mercadi on the way out. You grabbed them carefully, turning on the car and speeding off. Did you even have a license yet? 'No, but who the hell cares!' You thought speeding off. Little did you know, August had seen the whole thing.

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"Dad, DAD! wake up!" Stella shook her dad awake, he groaned and turned over to look at her.

He coughed and sat up, blankets still around him. "Yes, Yes Stella what's up? Why must you wake a tired ranger at, 4:00 in the morning?" He asked, yawning.

"Y/n is gone! August told me he saw them drive off with the mercadi! Dad, they don't even have a license!" She practically yelled at him.

"THEYRE WHAT?!" he yelled, springing out of bed quickly. He ran and put his ranger equipment on quickly, before returning back in front of Stella.

"Stella, listen." He crouched down in front of her. "They'll be okay, we'll find them I promise alright? Now, you go grab August and get him in the car." Stella nodded quickly, running out of the room to go grab August. Truth be told, he was worried. Enough of his family had died already. 'No no, no dark thoughts right now, N/n is more important. ' he thought, and nervously stepped out of the room, practically running downstairs and outside into the car.

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There you were, just peacefully sitting on the not so safe side of the railing. You took a deep breath in of fresh air, staring down at the busy street below you. 'I could just jump now, what am I waiting for?' You thought, and slowly wiggled your way off the edge. Starting to fall, untill a hand grabbed you back. You looked confused, turning around you saw August.

"August?! Wha- what are you doing here?" You asked nervously. Staring at your brothers worried face.

"Oh I don't know, I'm here because I'm not gonna let my sibling KILL THEMSELVES?! DAD! STELLA! HELP!" He yelled.

'Shit, shit, shit. This is not good, holy fuck.' You thought, letting go of his hand. "August, just let me go. I don't have to be a burden anymore." You said, staring at him with upset eyes as you teared up.

"Wha- NO! DAD- STELLA, PLEASE!" he yelled again, grabbing your hand tighter and trying to pull you up untill eventually your dad and Stella bursted through the door. Staring at you dangling off the edge. Cordell looked at you with shock, his mouth making a small O shape. Stella immediately started to tear up, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Uh, a little HELP, please?" August yelled at them, untill they snapped out of their trance. Quickly, you tried to wiggle your way out of August's grasp, but it was no use, as Cordell had a hold of your hand now, along with Stella. Quickly, you were pulled over the railing. You broke down, watching them all stare at you like some kind of lab experiment. Then, Cordell hugged you, as tight as he could.

You gasped, staring into his chest. Then, August joined the hug, along with Stella.

Shortly after they let go, and Cordell crossed his arms, staring down at you. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say, don't do this again, N/n. We love you. What would this family be like without you? You can always talk to any of us, you know that, right?" He asked, almost crying himself.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I just didn't wanna be a burden.." You sobbed out. He sighed, and smiled at you.

"Well, let's take you somewhere where you aren't a burden then. Let's go home, okay?" He asked, smiling down at you. You smiled back, and nodded, still crying.

And eventually, maybe you would get better. Maybe, just maybe, you could actually get better.

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Originally written from wattpad, so if you recognize this from that you know who I am now!

1627 words! My best so far 😈

Bonus: Cordell watched you intently as you emptied your drawers for anything sharp as he held out his hand. You groaned and handed them to him. He frowned softly. "Yknow we all love you, right?" We're all here. Even if your grandpa seems like.. A meanie sometimes, even he'd listen about this. Okay?" He asked. You nodded, tearing up again. He smiled softly. "Alright, alright." He hugged you tightly, and for once, you hugged him back.

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zee-has-commitment-issues · 1 year

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Thoughts from planes with Zee (an unhinged and incomplete list) Part 2

Hey friends! I traveled again, which means I wrote down every unhinged thought I had. Part 1 of this post is from August and you can find it here. And if you haven't heard my insane travel story yet, you can find it here.

Some of these are headcanons, some are random thoughts, some are responses to posts I saw while I was travelling. I wouldn't say any of these are particularly controversial, but I can see where people could disagree with me so everyone know that almost everything is a joke and should be taken with a grain of salt. Love you.

Do you think Wille went straight to Felice after the ball and was all giddy and telling her about the kiss? I think about this every day. Did he teenage freak out over it with his best friend? Does Felice know?

Of all the random shit I put into Screwed about Erik, I think the funniest might be: Erik not being able to say anything other than “he’s pretty” when he meets Simon for the first time, and Erik’s least favorite month ironically being November.

Wilhelm wears sweatpants on planes so he has pockets and Simon wears pajama pants, making Wilhelm hold everything for him.

Just saw a post that said “Edvin looks at Omar like he’s in love with him” and after I’ve finished cringing, my response to that is: everyone looks at Omar that way. It’s Omar.

Simon listens to the Beatles, but he does it in secret. Wilhelm only knows because he found the records in his room. Wilhelm, to this day, is the only person who knows.

Thinking about how Henry didn’t think to knock on Wilhelm’s door because he probably knew after the locker room interruption just how heartbroken Wille was and therefore assume Wilhelm wouldn’t have anyone in his room. Henry didn't knock because Henry understood everything about Simon without being told.

Stella screams at airline representatives while Fredrika cries about plans being ruined.

Wilhelm loves the rain

Concept: season 3 opens with another dream like season 2 did, but this time it’s August and Sara. (Prompted by the song love, or the lack thereof by Isaac Dunbar)

I truly and utterly appreciate Young Royals for showing what it is actually like for a teenager with anxiety to be forced into therapy. Like you don’t want to be there. For a while you do just sit in silence. But slowly you open up. It isn’t just "lay on the couch and share all your feelings" and then you’re suddenly better. It’s a process. It takes time. ESPECIALLY when you don’t want to be there. Just… god I’m crying about it again.

Nils gives Tony Award worthy performances in his kitchen with a wooden spoon as a microphone. Change my mind. You can’t.

Maddie is the first person in their year to get a license, but no one will get in a car with her behind the wheel.

I feel like Walter is a Billie Eilish fan, but won’t admit it.

Fredrika can sing every Hanna Ferm song from memory

Stella sucks on lollipops because people got annoyed with her chewing gum.

The entire Hillerska student body teases Wilhelm about not knowing Simon’s song was about him. They tease him for years. The administrators catch onto the teasing too and it’s mentioned subtly in their graduation address. None of the parents can understand why the entire student body started laughing at the headmistress’ speech, and they don’t understand why the crown prince is annoyed when he starts his own speech.

Felice started learning Russian as a joke and now she actually speaks Russian and uses it often even though no one can understand her.

Somewhat off topic, woke up rn to an Omar song, and was nice.

Every rumor at Hillerska can be traced back to either Walter or Fredrika. They didn’t mean to, they just literally cannot keep their mouth shut.

Henry watches ice age when he’s sick

Moulin Rouge AU

Thinking about ✨that✨ scene again

If any of them were going to be a greyhound runaway, it would be Sara

Follow up to that one^: Would like to see a fic where August is a greyhound runaway. Like canon still happens, but after s2 he just decides to run from his problems.

Somewhere in Hillerska Erik graffitied his name

Off topic again, but noise canceling earbuds are a god send

Felice+Adele. Send tweet.

Want something to fuck you up? Actor for Nils is older than actor for Erik.

Breaking up with my gf was such a good idea knowing what I know now💀

Madison loves flying. In comparison, Nils would rather die

Omar songs + sunrise part 2

I have never been more convinced that Vincent listens to fallout boy unironically

Simon drinks peppermint Mochas

Rowing team blamed their loss on “karma”

Wilhelm has a crippling fear of being forgotten, but more so he has a debilitating fear of Erik being forgotten.

Things I have now done: had a panic attack at 30,000ft (twice)

Felice makes sure everyone else eats and then forgets to eat

Nils and night drives

Carefully by Ben Platt is Wilhelm season 2

Jag hatar mannen bredvid mig. han gjorde ingenting. Jag är bara arg på hela världen.

If Dani and I started a podcast, would people listen to it?

I hope Henry knows the names of Simon’s fish. Like maybe not right now in the canon story, but at some point. I feel like he’d appreciate the fish having names .

I wrote the beginning of a fic and I think it’s like kinda good but I did write it at 2am so maybe I’m just tired

Is It Just Me? By Emily Burns is about to become the most painful Wilmon edit. Try me. One like and I’ll do it.

Sara can’t swim

Was thinking about a 1950s AU and then realized I have no reason for them to be in the 50s. Like why do they need to be in the 50s? Poodle skirts? That’s literally it.

Growing Sideways by Noah Kahan is a Hangman Song. This is a top gun thing. Specifically Aftershocks fic by @the-navistar-carol.

How… how are people gonna watch a show in which Edvin plays a queer character, and makes out with another man, and then accuse him of being homophobic? How do you even-?

Sometime in the future August gets sober and people more mature than him begin to forgive him. Not because he deserves it, but because they don’t want to put the energy into being angry anymore.

I want Omar to start yelling at people. Like he has to want to yell at people at this point. I think he should.

Ayub 100% knows every detail of Wilmon. He is a walking Wilmon dictionary. Simon told him everything. Like he could tell you where Wilhelm’s least favorite freckle was or some shit even though he’s never asked Wilhelm about it, nor has he seen the freckle.

Vincent’s guilty pleasure movie is Chicago and his ringtone for August is “cell block tango” aka "he had it coming."

Paparazzi catch Wille teary eyed, and it becomes a big “Boys DO Cry” Moment but really he just saw a really cute dog or some shit

Wilhelm asks “would you still love me if I was a worm” and Simon replies “yes” without hesitation

And that's every thought I felt like writing down. I hope it was delightfully unhinged. Much love to all of you.

#unhinged zee hours #zee travels and zee's brain consumes them #young royals #young royals headcanons

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paisholotus · 6 months

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Zimbini

Jamaica

Stella's Pov

We finally made it back to Jamaica. And Erik was sleeping soundly on my lap. I brushed my thumb across his cheek, smiling softly at the boy. Then I frowned a little. How was I going to tell him his father was killed by his uncle? This whole situation broke my heart. Erik already doesn't have his mother, and he just lost his father and doesn't even know it.

Our plane smoothly landed, and two of my men waited in the front for me to exit. I looked down at Erik, and my smile returned as I softly shook him. "Erik, wake up, honey. Wi here." He slowly sat up, wiping his eyes, and looked out the window, looking surprised with a tiny smile on his face.

I got up, grabbed his hand, and my men grabbed his belongings as we walked off the plane. He looked up and said, "This is Jamaica?" He asked. Scrunching up his face, I chuckled and nodded. "Yes, we'll be at the palace soon. There's sum people mi wa yuh tuh meet." He nervously nodded and squeezed my hand.

"Yuh hungry?" I asked, and he smiled and said yes. We walked to our car, and I told the driver to go to one of my favorite restaurants. Riding down the strip, passing all the restaurants and shops, Erik stared at everything, amazed, looking out to the clear ocean.

"Yuh, like it?" I asked him, and he nodded, continuing to look out the window. I chuckled and told the driver to stop the car. We pulled to the side of the street, and I decided we would walk to the restaurant so Erik could get a better look at everything. I told my men to just meet back here after we're done eating. They were hesitant but followed my orders anyway. I don't need guards 24/7; I can take care of myself.

"Yuh, eva ave Jamaican food?" I asked Erik. "I think once, but I don't remember what it was." He said, looking up at me. I nodded and walked into the restaurant. It wasn't that crowded today, probably because it was only 12:00. But wait till 2 or 3; this place will be packed. "Well, yuh, inna luck dis mi favorite place, dem ave di best food." I told him excitedly. I love food; it's good for your soul.

"Have you talked to my dad yet?" He asked. I froze and put on a nervous smile. "Not yet. But I'm sure he'll call soon." I said, grabbing his hand and holding it. As we ate and asked simple questions, I could tell he was a quiet kid. He didn't really talk much, but it made me feel better that he was still enjoying his food.

I paid and got us desserts for later. We got into the car, making our way to the palace. It was 30 minutes away from the restaurant. We came up to the gates, and Erik stared wide-eyed as we drove over the bridge, overpassing the ocean. The sun was just now setting, and it was truly beautiful. But I guess I could bitterly say Wakanda had better sunsets.

When we finally got in front of the palace, I heard Erik mutter. "Damn." I chuckled. "It's nice, right?" He looked back at me and laughed. "It's ight. Probably not as nice as Wakanda." I rolled my eyes. Boy, hasn't even seen the place yet. "Mmcht, Wakanda nuh get nothting pan mi. Now, let's go. It's getting dark." I said, stepping out of the car.

My men and women greeted me by bowing. Erik kind of leaned into me, looking up at them. They were kind of intimidating, but that was a good thing. My general approached me, bowing and giving me a kind smile. "My Queen. It's good to see you." She said, hugging me. "Gud seeing you too, Milla." I said, stepping back. She looked down at Erik and gave him a tiny smile. "Who is this, little one?" I pulled Erik close and gave Loric my second command, Erik's belongings. "Take these to his room. This is Erik, N'Jobu's son." She looked confused as to why he was here. I gave her a look so to not say anything.

She looked back down and nodded her head forward. I led him past the fountain that looked like it was shooting out fire; at least, that's what my granddaughter says. I looked down at Erik with a big smile on his face, talking Milla's head off. Probably the most he's talked since he's been with me. I looked back and huffed. This was going to be a long night.

Milla- General Of The Oorun Jagunjagun (Sun Warriors)

Loric- Second Command Of The Oorun Jagunjagun

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loverrrgirl · 2 years

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KISMET- Austin Butler x reader- PART 10

Warnings: this is where the reallllll good setup starts. No warnings yet but I’m drooling thank u.

I’ve never written a fic before so any feedback, comments, etc are super helpful for me! Be nice to me tho.

Here’s the masterlist

I’ll cry that I’m not Stella.

Stella's Point of View

The Uber picked me up not too long after I sat on the bench in front of the hospital. A red mustang pulled up and I checked the plates against my app to make sure I wasn't about to get myself kidnapped.

There was an older man in the driver seat. Maybe in his later 60s. He introduced himself as Miguel and told me if I wanted to sit in the back seat I was welcome to fold the seat and climb back but it may be more comfortable here in the front seat. I opted for the front seat so I didn't feel squished.

The entire drive down was sweet. We laughed, he told me about his grandchildren, we sang oldies at the top of our lungs. This had to have been the most memorable Uber ride I'd ever had.

Except for the drive with Austin. I guess he doesn't count as an Uber though. He wouldn't be thrilled I was in this car right now.

But he'd never know and that made me sad, then made me smirk thinking about what he'd have to say about it. Oh well.

It didn't seem like long before Miguel pulled up my driveway and carried my bags to the door for me. I tipped him well and gave him a hug.

"Thank you Miguel. It's been a hard week and this was one of the highlights of it. I hope you have a great day!" I smiled as he walked back to his car.

Once I was inside, I brought my suitcases in to my room. My parents didn't change it yet since I moved out. It probably felt too soon.

I left some of my favorite clothes here because the season wasn't right for them in New York. After I showered, I ransacked my closet. Although there was no reason for me to get dressed up to hang out at the hospital all night, I missed my things. Cute and casual. That's what we were going for. I also wanted to feel like a human again. Not just a girl who only owns leggings.

I found a pair of black ripped mom jeans. I remembered how often I wore them before I left for New York. For some reason I thought I'd never wear jeans again once I took a dive into the chic professional style world I'd need for my job. Boy was I wrong. And I missed these.

I threw them on, along with a cropped, long sleeved, black button up cardigan with nothing underneath. I left the top button open, to give it some edge. Or some cleavage. Whatever you wanted to call it. I look fucking cute.

After I styled my hair and put some of that trusty waterproof mascara on, I dug out my favorite oversized denim jacket. I found my pastel pink and white checkered slip on vans and was re living my casual style dreams.

I had a little bit of time so I decided to go on a bike ride just to look at the water. I'd have to lay on the sand a different day. I checked my weather app and had just enough time before it started drizzling again.

The weather has really been fitting my mood lately.

The whole time I rode I thought about how I should have left Austin with my phone number. I could have left a piece of paper in his car. It would have been so easy.

I really missed my shot there. Woof.

Once I got back home, I grabbed my toiletries bag and some fresh clothes and jammies and headed to the garage to get my car.

Good ol' Matilda.

I named her Matilda when I my parents gifted her to me for my 16th birthday. A black Lexus IS 350. I named her Matilda because, well, she was magical. I got in my car and mindlessly drove through streets that were starting to feel less familiar to me. I grew up in this house my entire life. And I didn't think I'd start losing the street familiarity so soon after moving. It had only been 6 months.

I finally pulled in to the parking lot. Even though there was some cloud cover and a light sprinkle, you could tell we were getting to that point in the day where the sun is slightly less bright but not setting yet. Not quite dusk, but the sun was thinking about it.

I grabbed my bags and got out of my car. I was thinking about what I could order for dinner even though I definitely could have just gone and picked something up on my way.

I was so lost in thought, I almost didn't move out of the way for someone walking in the opposite direction. "Sorry about that" I said with my head still down in thought and kept walking.

I was nearly half way to the door when I felt a firm hold on my wrist.

What the fuck.

As I hesitantly turned around I heard "Stella." In a low, almost raspy voice. My stomach turned in to knots immediately. I hadn't even seen him yet and I knew. My knees started to feel weak.

I turned and looked up at him immediately after hearing my name. "Austin?" I whispered. I couldn't get it to come out any louder than that. I was surprised I could speak at all. His blue eyes burned in to mine.

He looked down at my hand and realized he was still tightly holding on to my wrist. "I'm sorry to scare you but I said your name and you didn't hear me." He said, releasing my arm to rub his thumb across his bottom lip.

"I must have been lost in thought. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" I asked, concerned he was here visiting someone. The thought that he might be here to see me hadn't crossed my mind yet.

"Everything is good now that I've found you." He said to me with that smoldering look he does so well. It wasn't just an on camera thing. And those baby blues were searing right through me. I looked at him, unsure what he meant by his words. I was taken aback. "You uh- left your sweater in my car. I wanted to make sure you got it back." He continued.

My eyes lit up. "My sweater! I was looking for it. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to leave it. It's my favorite sweater!" I exclaimed as I pulled it out of his hands and into my clutches. "Thank you Austin. You really didn't have to drive all this way to bring it to me though."

"I know." He said. His direct eye contact was simultaneously giving me butterflies and making me feel nervous. Not because he scared me. But I was nervous to feel this way about someone like him. I realized I didn't have a choice in the matter. I was drawn to him like a magnet. And I felt on fire.

"You look beautiful tonight." He said with that smile he gets when he talks about something he's passionate about.

Wait. He's talking about me while he looks like that? Fuck. This can't be happening.

"Oh yeah, I don't look like 7am emergency flight across the country today." I chuckled. "Thank you Austin. You look very nice today as well." And boy was I feeling nervous now.

"No, you were beautiful then too." He said with that smirk he does. And the light in his eyes was dancing around. I couldn't tell what he was thinking but I liked it. And I wanted more of it.

I looked down, feeling slightly bashful. He really knew how to make me blush and he didn't even say anything blush worthy.

"Did you have a decent birthday then?" he asked me.

I had honestly forgot it even was my birthday a few days ago.

"Oh. I honestly didn't even think about it being my birthday. I don't think anyone even remembered, given the circumstances though it's okay. Being here is gift enough." I said with a hint of sadness.

This would be a birthday to remember that's for sure. I can't even believe he remembered. The flight attendant mentioned it at the beginning of our flight 4 days ago and he still knew.

"I get that. I wish the circumstances were different for you. Can I make it up to you? Take you to dinner?" He asked me. And although he was nervously fidgeting with that ring he wears on his pinky, he never lost eye contact with me.

Take me? To dinner? To celebrate my birthday? Fucking pinch me.

"Oh. I uh, I would really enjoy that actually." I said looking up at him with mostly just my eyes. He was also nearly a foot taller than me.

"Great. Give me your phone." He said. He didn't ask. And I handed my phone right to him, no questions asked. I wanted to make his every wish my command in that moment. He added himself as a contact and handed it back. "When I was upstairs talking with your mother, I realized I didn't even know how to address her. So let's start over. Hi, I'm Austin. Butler." He held his hand out to me to shake it. I was giggling. How cheesy. But god damn, so cute.

"Stella. Porter." I replied while grabbing his hand to shake it back. He grabbed my hand lightly, and pulled it up to his lips. He didn't stop looking right at me. He gave my hand a gentle kiss. And he slowly brought my hand back down.

Shut the fuck up. This isn't real.

"Nice to officially meet you Stella Porter. Is tomorrow alright for dinner?" He asked in his low, quiet voice.

"Tomorrow is great" I replied. Stunned. Shook. Deceased.

"I'll pick you up at 6." He said, smirking.

"Okay. Yeah. Um. Maybe from my house? I don't have the things to get ready for that here." I said, timidly. I wasn't sure if I was asking too much.

"I'll be there. Text me the address. Goodnight Stella." He said to me with a wink. And just like that, he turned around and walked back to his car.

I think I'll go throw up now. Wait. HE TALKED TO MY MOTHER?

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fluff #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler elvis #angst with a happy ending

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chelleztjs18 · 1 year

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Hello you who loves tofu and eats dark chocolate, and is going to do archery lefty eyebaf 😅 one day, your nickname will just fill up an entire page!

Her new room? Did she sleep with you guys then? Or is it new because you guys redecorated it and such?

How big is the tree? Do you like getting big trees that reach all the way tonthe ceiling? My little plastic tree is probably 2 ft tall haha

No, it's a yellow cap, made by Maggi. I went to look in the pantry, it's literally called seasoning sauce haha 😄

Onion rings are my favorite fast food side if they have it. But I understand that the greasy part can be ick. I only really order it from red robin, it's so good and crunchy, and its not oily at all. I love green onions too, I always put it on my egg drop soup whenever I make it. My friend's mom would make carne asada during summer, and she would grill the green onions. We always fight for it because she would only grill like a few.

I don't eat spicy food very much. I'm a baby when it comes to spice. If I ever eat spicy food, I better have 2 to 3 bottles of water ready haha do you like spicy food? Also are you talking about herbs and spices to be used in cooking?

Do you like stuffed mushrooms then? I remember making a stuffed mushroom dish before, and it was so good.

Hm I don't think I've seen the black ones. I've seen the one with sea salt but not with the orange. You like chocolate with fruits then? Have you had an orange ball?

Yeah I would be, I definitely don't know how to discipline a kid. I'm trying to learn to be more strict or "adult" when I am around children though.

I love the part where Mitch was wearing the hat and they made jokes about it. And the part where Gloria was cutting Luke's hair ahahaha oh and the part where Hailey just walks in and they're like whaaaaat 🤣 another episode I like is the one where Gloria loses Stella, then she and Cam goes looking for her, and Cam starts screaming STELLAAAAAAA.

I'm also going for smart and boring. Even though I am smart, I can still make jokes, just certain people will get it haha

Would you rather have a personal chef or a housekeeper?

- CuriousGeorge

Oh my goodness, that was a long nickname 🤣🤣🤣 how can u come up with them? Lol.

My daughter sometimes sleep in my room or in her grandpa's room (my father in law).

We just slowly changed the guest room to her room.it used to have nothing in it n was also her toy room. But now with mound her tv n put up some Frozen and disney princess wall decal, n also curtain. We bought some toyboxes n also a small extra protable closet to hang her dress. We sorted her toys n put up some shelves for her plushies.. u know, stuff like that. N pretty soon we gonna move her bed into that room.

We got a smaller one than the one we usually have. Last times we had 9ft tree but this time we picked a 7ft one. Last year i got them flocked with fake snow but not this year.. the last two years we had another 3ft one for her own tree but not this year because we will be going to CA for christmas n her grandma already bought small ones for her at her house.😁

Yes i love getting a big one, the taller the better 😅 i like the flocked one so it looks like a greenish white. I love the smell of pine tree. I like christmas light but the white ones but of course for toddlers the color ones better.lol.

Do u wanna see the decorations i put? It's not totally done yet, some of the lights are out, i have to buy a new one.

Aw 2 ft is cute.. i grew up with plastic tree n small too. Thats why now im here n i can get a real n very tall ones so i always go all out.hahaha.

Haha i think i know which seasoning sauce is that. 😅 that one is good too. Mine, some part of the labels on the bottle not even in english 🤣

I think onions themselves are greasy when u cook it, so when it's deep fried, for me is too much. Hahah. I'm not really a fan of fried food (but i will still eat certain fried food). i love grilled food n soups. �� what about u?

Ah i see. I love spicy food.. the spicier the better.haha.

Yeah i meant herbs n spices that r used in cooking.. do u like food that uses lots of herbs n spices? Most asian food use herbs n spices. My favorite is Indian food. Omg.. i love it.hahah. the second favorite is thai food. But of course number one is indonesian food.hahaha.

Yeah i think i had stuff mushroom n it was fried.. it was pretty good.. i love grilled or baked stuffed mushroom. Maybe someday u can share me the recipe for that stuffed mushroom u made. 😁

When i go to the store i will take a pict n share it with u, but promise me u will try it. 😅🤣

Haha yeah i remember that part, Jay compliments the hat Mitch got n he said "what if i tilt it a little bit?" N Jay said "u ruined it" 🤣

Haha the mohawk on luke because he lost bet with Phil. 🤣

Oh yeeah i know that episode. Haha i can hear that "STELLAAAAA" in Cam's voice 🤣 n then what's funny is Cam n Gloria scream back n forth with the little girl that found Stella, n Jay n Manny heard it from far n thought coyote might just eat a dog. 🤣

Haha so u r good at making joke? U should tell me some.

As much as i like food, i would pick housekeeper.hahaha. i can try to cook anything n have someone to clean after that, is awesome.hahaha. what about u?

Next question?

Cheerio!

#chellez answers #ask answered #anon answered #curious george anon

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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path-of-my-childhood · 3 years

Text

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!

#this just might be the longest post I have ever posted #I have so much work so I'll read and edit later #taylor swift #paul mccartney #Rolling Stone magazine #interview #folklore era

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sgt-paul · 3 years

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MUSICIANS ON MUSICIANS: Paul McCartney & Taylor Swift

❝ 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. ❞

interview below the cut:

Paul McCartney: Yeah!

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

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: Wow.

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.”

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

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?

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.

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: 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.

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

Swift: Thrilling, absolutely thrilling.

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

McCartney: You do that, do you?

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.

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.

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.

Swift: Ohhh!

Swift: Cares about that stuff?

Swift: I think that sounds like a perfect day.

Swift: That can’t happen in Downton Abbey.

McCartney: [Laughs.] Exactly.

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”?

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.

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: 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.

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.

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.

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: 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?”

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

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!

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.

Swift: “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!

#paul mccartney #old paul #taylor swift #*m #💖#grandpaul #silver stubble #(aahh king)#(I LOVE HIM SO MUCH F*CK OFF EVERYONE)#(the thumbs lads. its always about the thumbs)

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years

Text

Family Business

A/N: It took me a while to write and finish it, but I like the idea a lot. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x F!Reader Word count: 3,008 Warnings: Death, weapons, mention of blood, swearing.

(Gif is not mine, by super-madi16)

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the way you expected to spend an average Thursday night with your daughter.

Everything was going perfectly fine. The two of you were making dinner together in the large, modern kitchen of your New York penthouse, surrounding by the glimmering of lights from other buildings and down below in the bustling streets that never sleep.

Carbonara was on the menu. It was one of Stella’s favorite things to both make and eat. At the independent age of 16, it was rare that she wanted to spend time with you and Steve anymore. She would much rather be out with her friends and her dad’s credit card than to be cooped up in this rather ginormous penthouse the family called home.

But here she stood, stirring the sauce as you monitored the pasta, complaining about her day and about how stupid boys her age were (as she always put it she was looking for a man, not a boy which always resulted in Steve chocking on whatever he was eating or drinking at the time). That conversation resulted in complaining about school in general, and how much it sucked being a teen.

As you continued stirring the pasta and she went back on her phone to play another song from the Bluetooth speakers in the kitchen, a sudden gunshot erupted. Both of you froze, your eyes scanning the room to see all of the guards rushing in the direction of the noise. But it only took a fraction of a second for your mother bear instincts to kick in. Grabbing your daughter and pushing her into your chest, you desperately ran back and into the secret room behind your clothes in your walk-in closet, that Steve had designed especially for emergencies.

Running your fingers across the area, the door popped open. You desperately pushed your daughter in than yourself, shutting the metal door back with the huge lock and bar, and hid with her in one of the corners, turning the lights off. You could hear her heavy breathing, as clearly she was having a panic attack. Grabbing onto her and her soft hair, you held her and murmured sweet words of endearment in an attempt to calm her down, which seemed to work... some.

It wasn’t until you heard a loud bang against the door that you yourself softly gasped and clung onto your daughter, she let out a soft sob. Knowing someone, who was probably not an ally, was on the other side of the door frightened you and both her. She was the first, you noticed, to throw herself away from your and to a box only a few feet away. Through the dark, you could see her open the wooden box and grab a gun inside, her shaky hands visible. She slowly and as silently as she could, cocked the gun. “Stel,” You whispered to her, “I got it.” She shook her head. “Stella I told you-”

The loud crash from the metal door that one divided safety and danger between the two of you and the outside world came colliding down. You couldn’t identify much but a man with a gun in all black, his silhouette disrupting the light from your closet that seeped its way through the doorway. None of Steve’s men would dress in all black.

You weren’t sure what to do. In a fluster within your mind as your daughter held the sole weapon you two had and a man who could end it all right here, or worse, drag it on further out. Your eyes froze in a complete panic your hands involuntarily shaking and shivering cold with fear.

A gunshot sounded, the man falling to the floor in a single second as blood surrounding his body and ricocheted onto the walls. You gasped in relief, looking over to your daughter, “Stella?”

There the young girl, long brunette hair with delicate waves at the end, sat on her knees in complete horror and awe, staring at the dead body. She dropped the gun from her right hand and let out a horrid sob. Cupping her face in her hands, you rushed over on your hands and knees, holding her as tightly as you could without suffocating her body. You cooed her, brushing her soft hair in your fingers and placing your own chin on her head, engulfing both her body and soul within yours.

“I-I,” She mumbled, “I killed someone.” It took everything within your being not to start crying yourself, or worse, lash out at someone or something. The genuine and pure form of anger that pulsated in your veins made you want to rip something to shreds.

While ultimately this wasn’t Steve’s fault, you were mad at whoever did this. You had chosen this life with your husband, you two had chosen to have a child together. You brought her into this world, without her permission, and you always tried your hardest to keep her out of the world of Mafia.

She had been interested since day one of getting involved, being the head man, or headwoman just like Steve. And when she asked him about it all he wasn’t only happy to hear about her interest, he was proud. Something that Steve rarely meant, unless it was for Stella.

But you knew after tonight, that would change.

It was only a few minutes later, you were sure, but it felt like an hour for Steve himself and a whole military worth of his men to arrive. “Y/N?” He called out, running into your closet judging by the pattern of his feet moments on the hardwood floors, “Stella?”

His figure appeared in the light, his face turning from concern to sadness. Dropping the anger that once tensed his muscles, he walked over and dropped to the floor next to your daughter, as Bucky and Sam rounded the corner to see both the scene and the body in awe.

“Baby?” Steve cooed to your daughter. For the first time, she looked up with swollen and soaked eyes. Another sob escaped her lips as she moved from you to him, clinging onto his dress shirt for dear life as she cried into it, his large arms embracing her in a large hug as he kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.”

“D-dad,” She stuttered out, pulling away to look at him.

“Yeah, sweetie?” He looked down at her, still holding her partially.

“I killed someone.” He looked with big eyes at her, then calmed down and sighed.

“Okay.” He huffed out, “We’ll deal with it okay?” He looked back to Bucky and Sam, snapping only once and looking to the body which they had other men help them out with, as Steve turned both you and Stella away.

“Dad, I’m a murderer.” She mumbled as more tears fell down her red cheeks.

“No, sweetheart, no you’re not.” He sighed, “It was self-defense.”

“But I killed someone!” She argued.

“To protect you and your mother.” He repeated himself, “Darling, that’s self-defense. You’re not a murderer, and you never will be.” She continued to hold onto Steve, still crying. “Let’s get out of here, okay?” She nodded, her head still buried in his chest.

He helped you up onto your feet first, checking over your face and giving a quick kiss to the top of your forehead, before retreating back to Stella. He picked her up, carrying her bridal style into the living room. Placing her down on the couch gracefully like she was a porcelain doll, he cooed her a bit more before barking at the men around the room to remove themselves and go elsewhere in the house.

“Baby? Are you okay?” The two of you sat down on the couch. He was on her left, you were on her right. Running his hand through her hair to calm her down, he genuinely looked worried.

“I can’t do that again, Dad.” She leaned into his chest, “I can’t.” She mumbled.

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He sighed, still running his hand over her head. “You won’t ever have to again. I promise.” He gave her a tender kiss on the top of her head, you now rubbing her back in circles with one of your hands. “Do you want some dinner?” He asked her next, aware that no one had eaten yet. She shook her head. “Mkay.” He sighed, not wanting to push her.

“I just- I just wanna go to my room.” She pulled away a little, giving both you and Steve one more hug.

“You sure, honey?” He asked very lightly. She nodded.

“We’ll text you with dinner options, alright?” You spoke up and she nodded. “We love you.” You smiled at her. She nodded and walked away. Once she was up the stairs, Steve let out a sigh and moved closer to you, throwing his arm around you. You sank back into his chest, closing your eyes to absorb the warmth and safety.

“And how are you?” He asked, giving you a kiss on the head.

“As good as I can be.” You replied. “I’m just worried about her.” He nodded.

“I am too.” He admitted, “I’m so sorry that happened, it’s my job to protect you two and-”

“And you weren’t here so it’s not your fault, Steve.” You fought back peacefully.

“But if that fucker wouldn’t have-”

“Steve, stop.” You told him firmly, “There’s no need to blame yourself for any of this, okay? If we should be worried about anything it’s Stella.” He nodded in agreement.

You felt some guilt as well. You should have been the one to have the gun, you were the adult in the situation. Granted Stella was exactly like Steve; she was persistent, she was stubborn. Usually, that would get her places, she could even get more money out of Steve for shopping trips or to go out with her friends because of her negotiation skills and how she would never stop. But today was drastically different, this was a situation where you didn’t want those traits to play out. Especially the way they did.

You curled into his chest, his arms wrapping around your body, your back to his chest. “I love you, so much.” He mumbled into your hair.

“I love you too.” You slightly smiled, rubbing his arms with your hands.

“So you know what you want for dinner?” He asked you next.

“I don’t care,” You sighed, “Maybe that Italian spot a few blocks away. The one that Wanda’s family owns.”

“Oh yeah,” He responded, “Let’s get take out from there.” He pulled out his phone, still holding you with one arm, and got the menu. “Should we get Stel something?” He asked, you nodded.

“Even if she doesn’t eat it tonight we can keep it in the fridge.” He nodded in agreement.

“What do you think she would want?” He asked you again and you lightly laughed.

“You know what she wants.” You rolled her eyes.

“Chicken tenders.” You both said in tandem, light laughter following. “Mkay love,” He got up, letting you set yourself back on the pillows, “I’m gonna go order, alright?” You nodded in agreement.

As he departed down the hall to order, to leave you without any disturbance, you chose to watch some TV. More as a mindless distraction, something to keep your eyes from replaying the scene in your mind of your daughter defending you. Something to occupy the ringing in your ears between the gunshot and the sobs of the one you loved most.

You tried so hard to be calm and collected, for both her and Steve. You knew Steve would loathe himself enough about all of this, now was your time to be the rock in the family. Even if you weren’t all that solid at the moment.

“Love? Baby, you there?” You heard Steve, breaking you from your trance.

“Huh, what?” You looked up with a soft smile as you glanced at his face. He smiled back.

“You zoned out there for a sec,” You nodded as he came to sit next to you again. He examined your face for a moment, seeing right through you as if your walls were made of glass. “Baby, I need you to talk to me.” He said softly, with a slight tinge of worry in his voice. You sighed, looking down to your hands and then back up at him.

“I’m just-” You tried to contemplate which words would accurately fit how you were feeling, “I’m conflicted.” You admitted to which he gave an inquisitive look.

“How so?” He asked.

“I want to- I need to be there for Stella,” You began, “But I also haven’t had time or space to process this myself. and maybe that’s selfish, I’m sure it is. But it’s all just so much-”

“It’s not selfish,” Steve insisted plainly, “Not at all. Stella’s been through a lot today, but so have you. And if you need all the time and space in the world to figure this out, I’ll figure out a way to give it to you.” He offered a kind smile. “I can be there for both you and Stella. That’s my duty.”

“But it shouldn’t be.”

“But it is,” he continued, “Because you willingly chose to immerse yourself in my lifestyle, which was enough to ask for, and Stella didn’t have a say.”

“But still I’m her mom and-”

“And you’ve both been through a lot and you both need time.” He gave you a peck on the cheek, “I love you, and you deserve all the time that you need.”

It took a few days for Stella to come back and begin to interact with you guys again. You had brought food to her room, some candy and ice cream too, everything and anything she needed. Steve had called her off school after yelling at the principal and using the excuse, “I pay enough for that damn school the least you can do is give my kid a few days off” which seemed to work.

It was minimal interaction at first. Initially, she was just grabbing some water. Then it turned to snacks, then to a very small conversation, then to her finally spending some time with you guys.

It wasn’t until you had all sat down for a family dinner that she had begun to open up, just a bit though. It was primarily you and Steve attempting to talk about things of interest that related to her: politics, books, anything you could. She remained silent, in her own mind and world. You weren’t sure what she was thinking, but you didn’t want to push or interrupt her either.

“Dad?” She finally spoke up, her voice reaching just above a whisper. Both of your heads shot up to where she sat, next to Steve and across from you.

“Yes, sweetie?” He asked, putting his full attention on her.

“I- um,” She began contemplating what she was going to say, looking down at her food which she has slowly been eating, “I need to tell you something, now, but you have to promise me that even if you get mad, you won’t yell or anything.”

“Of course not,” He grabbed her free hand and held it on the table, “I promise.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few brief moments before looking back up to him, “I don’t think I can take over all of this.” She admitted, clearly awaiting a response with little breath.

“All of what?” Steve asked.

“Your position.” She clarified.

Naturally, she was next in line to be the mob boss. Sure she was a girl, Steve didn’t care though. He had been preparing her for most of her life. But you knew from the moment she pulled that trigger that that was it. She would never be able to be in the mob.

Steve stared for a few seconds, looking down and giving off a quiet sigh before clearing his throat. “That’s fine.” He lightly smiled, still holding her hand. She gave a confused look.

“A-are you sure? You have to be mad-”

“No, no I’m not. I get it.” He admitted, “And don’t worry. We’ll find someone to take over. We can’t forget Will, Uncle Buck’s son, he could take over too.” She nodded lightly.

“Thanks, dad.” She looked up at him with a tight smile, to which he smiled back.

“Darling, I hope you realize that your mother and I didn’t just have you to take over the business,” He clarified, “You’re our daughter, and that’s your first and only role to us.” You nodded too, silently agreeing with what he was saying.

“Thanks, Dad,” She softly smiled, “I love you guys.”

“We love you too.” You smiled, grabbing her other hand, before looking to Steve raising one of your eyebrows. He gave you a confused look, pondering over what you were trying to communicate, before finally getting it.

“Oh,” He sighed, with a soft smile, turning his attention back to Stella. “Your mother and I thought it might be best to take some time off, with you, of course, so we scheduled a three-week trip to stay down in Palm Beach, at the house there.” He smiled at her, to which she smiled back.

“Wait, but what about school?” She asked. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I dealt with it don’t worry.” He began, as you got up to begin taking plates to the dishwasher, “fuck school anyways.” Stella began laughing as water flew out of her mouth, to which she covered her mouth with her hand in shock, and Steve began laughing too.

“Hey!” You scolded him, “We should not be preaching that to our daughter. Or any kid for that matter.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m also allowing you to take three friends. No boys though, and their absence will be dealt with too.”

“Thanks, again, dad.” She smiled, genuinely, for the first time in weeks.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #mafia!steve rogers #marvel #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers x y/n #mafia!steve rogers x you #Mob!Steve Rogers #mob!steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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chefdoeuvre · 3 years

Text

Under Control

Kelly Severide

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Sister!Reader

Description: Even when you think you have things under control older brothers always worm their way into helping.

Words: 1,595

Requested: yes by @ticklepete; Okay so can you do a Kelly x Sister where y/n is being seriously threatened by someone who she had a run-in with in the past (like an arsonist or former victim, etc) and of course Kelly's overprotective brother side kicks in. Her being the independent woman she is gets a little annoyed but ultimately is thankful. I feel like #46 and #12 would work with this.

Warnings: mention of minor injuries, blood, fluff as per usual.

A/N: I just love Kelly Severide and his overprotective ways. This can be counted as a stand alone or a part two for Rivalry. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

There they were again, flowers sent to the firehouse addressed to you. At first, you thought it was sweet how you had a secret admirer. Now after a month and a half of this you were starting to be fed up with it. Of course, you couldn't throw the flowers away they were too pretty for that, clearly, someone had spent a solid chunk of change to get them for you. Obviously, Kelly offered to tell Jay and get him to find out who they were coming from but being the stubborn Severide you are you declined.

The next shift came by in the blink of an eye and this time instead of a large bouquet of fresh flowers you were simply handed an envelope. The envelope didn't have a return address on it only the firehouse's and your name printed on it. You stuffed the envelope into your locker when the announcement system went off signaling a call. The call was a fairly normal rescue. Thankfully, there was a simple solution to saving the victim and it didn't take long to get them to safety.

After heading back to the firehouse you went back to your locker and pulled out the envelope that's been invading your thoughts since you got it. Ripping it open you unfolded the single piece of paper in it and let your eyes scan the words. Reading over them multiple times you felt a pit in your stomach. It was clear to see that they were threats aimed at you. This only confused you, if this wasn't some secret admirer who the hell was this? The words were generic threats you'd expect from a regular old crime show so that's not what scared you. It was the fact that they went through these lengths just to get your attention. Instead of doing what a rational person would do you stuffed the envelope back into your locker and tried to get your mind off of it.

Making your way out of the locker room you bumped face-first into a hard chest. Immediately two arms reached out and grabbed onto your shoulders to steady you. Looking up with wide eyes you're met with the familiar steel blue ones of your brother.

"Hey, you all right?" Kelly asked as he scanned your facial expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded quickly.

You tried to sidestep away from him, but his strong arms kept you planted there. Given the fact that he's your brother, he knew you like the back of his hand and he knew what you were like when something was bothering you.

"No, you're not. Talk to me." Kelly urged as you all but looked him in the eyes.

Sighing you shoved his hands off your shoulder and turned on your heel assuring him that you were fine. In truth, you were far from fine but you'd deal with it your own way. Which was being majorly stubborn about it and completely ignoring the fact that you weren't okay. You made your way into the common room and took a seat in between Herrmann and Mouch who were watching an old movie.

Kelly, being the nosy brother he is took it upon himself to check out your locker. Granted he only knew your combination because it was your birthday and as your brother of course he knew you would use that as the passcode for your phone as well. Pulling open your locker the envelope fell out and he quickly pulled it open. Reading the words across the page he suddenly felt the urge to punch someone.

Soon enough, the announcement system went off signaling a call. Apparently, it was a large abandoned warehouse on fire which meant all of Firehouse 51's help was enlisted.

Pulling up to the scene Boden started giving out directions to each unit. Squad was taking the brunt of the work by checking the building along with some of Truck's help. You and Kelly were paired up to go the furthest into the building, biting back a joke about the sibling power duo the two of you were you headed into the burning building. Kelly stood close beside you with a clenched jaw, still angered by the threats aimed at you.

"We're clear on the West wing." Cruz's voice sounded from your walkies.

"Same on the East." Stella agreed.

"All good on the North wing. South?" Casey asked.

You and Kelly were still making your way through the building about to reply when you heard a shrill scream. Looking up in alarm, the two of you shared a glance before setting toward the sound.

Taking the lead you made your way weaving through the crates to where the sound came from. Another high-pitched sound shocked you into place before you started toward the louder noise again.

"I've been waiting for you." A deep, gravelly voice sounded from behind a large crate.

"We have to go, this place isn't gonna last long." Kelly chided looking between you and the wooden crate.

"That doesn't seem to be in my agenda, Lieutenant Severide." The deep voice tutted.

You and Kelly shared a look of confusion. How the hell did this guy know who he was?

"Oh, allow me to introduce myself." The man all but cackled as he stepped out from behind the crate.

In his hands was a familiar-looking bouquet of flowers. He had a devilish smirk planted on his face and dark eyes that made him look demonic.

"It's Charles, but you can call me Chuck." He greeted with a sickly sweet smile and looked dead at you.

Kelly immediately stood to step in front of you and practically growled at the man.

"Cool it, Kell." You shoved your brother aside with a roll of your eyes.

"All right, Charlie was it?" You crossed your arms nonchalantly, "take your flowers and leave or I promise you I'll let the hound at you." You gestured a hand toward your fuming brother.

Of course, you were naturally sassy, but in times of danger, your sass levels would go up by a hundred. Was this the smartest idea to agitate the guy who lit this place up? No, probably not, but your instincts decided otherwise. The man was rendered speechless, to say the least. He was expecting a sobbing woman not a lady who could even out sass Jay Halstead on a good day.

While the man was a blubbering mess Kelly took the initiative to call it into Boden because of course this had to all go down in a burning building. A few moments later you turned on your heel and began dragging Kelly with you.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kelly berated.

"I'd rather get the hell out of dodge before I turn into a crispy treat." You hissed pulling him toward the exit.

Chuck still stood there trying to mutter out a response when he bolted after the two of you. Pushing Kelly ahead of you, you turned around to see Chuck barreling toward you. Grabbing his wrist in a tight grip you all but dragged him out of the building. Just in time the three of you made it out of the building before a huge explosion erupting out of the ceiling.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught sight of the Severide sibling's favorite detective and pulled Chuck along with you.

"I think your package was sent to the wrong building." You shoved Chuck forward as Jay pulled the man's arms behind his back and cuffed him.

"Thanks, Y/N." Jay nodded with a smirk adorning his features.

"Anytime, detective." You flashed a quick smile before heading back to your fellow firefighters.

Letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding you ripped your helmet off and dropped it to the ground.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kelly placed his hands on your shoulders before pulling you into his arms.

"Oh, come on. That was totally badass." You chuckled.

Kelly stared at you bugged-eyed, tilting his head in confusion.

"Come here, you big teddy bear." You wrapped your arms around Kelly's waist, hugging him tightly.

Locking your hands behind him you pulled back hissing in pain.

"What? What's wrong?" Kelly scanned you for any injuries.

"Damn bouquet had thorns in it. I'm fine though." You scrunched your brows pulling at the thorns embedded in your palm.

"What do you mean you're 'fine'? You're bleeding!" Kelly exclaimed.

"Dude, they're just thorns." You dismissed.

Kelly pushed you toward Gabby and Sylvie wordlessly as you wiped the little bit of blood escaping your hand.

After getting all cleaned up and heading back to the firehouse you went to find Kelly who was hunched over his desk in his bunk room.

"Thank you." You spoke up leaning against the door frame.

Kelly snapped his head toward the sudden voice.

"What?" Kelly asked with a small smirk.

"I said it once, that's it." You crossed your arms with a pout.

Kelly raised his brows and you let out a defeated sigh, "thank you for being my protective brother, even if I don't need you to be." You stepped forward and placed your hands on his shoulders with a small smile.

"It's in the job description." Kelly reached his hand up to ruffle your hair.

"Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you not to touch my hair?" You laughed, pushing his hand away.

"You're gonna be the death of me, I swear." Kelly rolled his eyes playfully.

#request #fanfiction #imagine #one shot #one chicago #one chicago imagine #chicago fire #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire imagine #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide x you #kelly severide imagines #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide #lieutenant kelly severide

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charmixpower · 2 years

Text

Harmonix rant up coming because it just appeared and I remember why I disliked it so much

Fun fact! I have something called aphantasia, which means I can't see images in my head

Nomrally I need to conceptualize what ever I'm thinking of in words and then make it into a 3d object that I necessarily see but more get the vauge idea of what is supposed to look like. Like an outline I have to constantly retrace to keep the shape there or else it will disappear

This is half of the reason I draw, because if I wanna see a concept I need to draw it (the other half is that I love character design)

If I want to remember something thats visual I can only do it by remembering distinctive features, because I cant see them in my head

When I was a kid I only watched up to season 5, and I can tell you straight up that Harmonix was my least favorite transformation period (If your wondering why I liked Sirenix more it's because of the colors, and Harmonix looks like it would be a nightmare to swim in. Though underwater Sirenix hair and the 3d is hideous, and I've always despised it... I guess I like Harmonix more often in the show than Sirenix then?? Idk man)

It's not anymore because I am aware of Mythix's...unfortunate...existence, but the problem I have with it is the same today as it was back then

I know there are small differences in the style of their trains and tops but that really doesn't mean anything to someone like me who won't be able to remember these small differences as soon as I look away

Like at most I'll be able to remember that Stella's has straight up and down pattern on her top, maybe Flora's corset top of I really try to commit it to memory. But the rest??? There's literally nothing for my brain to latch on to! Unless you'd like to count Musa's sharktail hair?? I don't count it but it's the only Harmonix hair style I'll be able to remember

But my main problem is that all the outfits have same silhouette. Which just isn't fun when you have a series based on the fact the main characters getting new cool DIFFERENT transformations

Enchantix was that bitch because they all gained it on different ways and they all looked so cool and different! I can love Flora's and Aisha's Enchantix and dislike Stella's and Musa's Enchantix. Because their all so different. Magic Winx was partly iconic for the same reason. But Harmonix (and I'm focusing on Harmonix for now), theres no room for strong feelings for each girl's look. Their all so similar that if you really like one you probably have vauge positive feelings for all of them. There's no room for strong opinions. I can't even bother to bitch about Tecna in a skirt, because she literally couldn't be in pants with this transformation. There's no point!

Also the shoes, are the fucking worst. Like at least there's a passing attempt to make all the girls trails and bodice's look different but they blatantly gave the fuck up with the shoes. It's so goddamn lazy it actually makes me mad. In magic Winx and Enchantix they all had the same style of shoes (go-go boots and sandles) but their all difference sizes (Bloom's shoes in both only goes to her ankles and in both Stella's goes up to her knees) and they all have different designs to them. The Enchantix decorations in the middle of the sandles, Musa having wedges Tecna's weird heels and Aisha's two tone heels stick out to me. Like if you want you can compare them to the Enchantix gloves, but gloves take up a lot less visual spaces compared to shoes that go up to their thighs. I'd compared the gloves more to to the pastel thing Harmonix as going together, which I don't like but that's more of a personal thing. I don't like pastels all that much, buts it's not like a flaw

Also the transformation sequences are so fucking similar. They all have the Winx girls waving around fabric that will become their dresses, and all have the weird thing where the girl disappears for a moment (completely breaking the flow of the sequence) to move her wings from her skirt to her back :( Why? I mean it's fun the first time but can't you do something different for each girl?

I'll have to watch more and see if any of their outfits grow on me but for now...yep, still don't like it that much

#rus rants #rus chatters #harmonix #ive mentioned i dont like harmonix before lol so this shouldn't be surprising #winx season 5

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im-in-love-with-pizza-bites · 3 years

Text

It Takes A Village Chapter 4

Chris Evans x Pregnant!daughter!reader

Series Master List

Series summary: You find out that your pregnant. After being kicked out of your mom's house you go to live full time with your Dad who you only saw once every few months. Will he react badly to you being a mom at such a young age?

Chapter Summary: You tell your family about the baby, and they're for the most part supportive.

Series Warnings: swearing, fighting with a parent, teen pregnancy, speak of abortion.

Chapters Warnings: Teen Pregnancy, swearing?

Y/n means your name. N/n means nickname. I feel like it's kinda pointless to keep telling you that but whatever.

On also... Like I know very little about his family.. So what I am using is all that I know about them... Also you are gonna refer to Carly's husband as uncle in this.. Just cause I grew up referring to my biological aunt and uncle's spouses as aunt and uncle so like idk if you guys do that too but whatever.

It was the day after the appointment and you sat on the couch nervously. Your dad was on the phone, and Scott was on his way over. You decided to go slowly on telling everyone who don't know your pregnant that your are, starting with Scott who you believe would be the least judgemental about it. Chris was going to be with you when you told him. Scott walked in taking in your nervous form staring into the distance.

"Y/n?" Scott snapped you from your thoughts. "You okay?" He asked you taking a seat next to you.

"Uh yeah..." You looked toward the kitchen where your dad had disappeared. When you realized he probably wouldn't be coming out for a little while you looked at Scott. "I'm pregnant. That's why mom kicked me out... I'm keeping the baby. And the dad doesn't want to be in their life." You rambled nervously and almost too fast for him to understand what you said. He looked at you surprised not saying anything for a moment.

"Your having a baby at fifteen?" He asked you cautiously after a few minutes, you hesitated but nodded. "And the dad is Jake?" He asked you again you nodded. "Okay." He said.

"Okay?" You questioned.

"Okay." He pulled you into a hug as you sighed in relief. Chris walked in looking at you two hugging.

"Did you tell him?" Chris asked you once you pulled out of the hug.

"Yeah."

"Your gonna be a grandpa." Scott began to teased him. "Old man."

"I'm not that old am I?" Chris frowned.

"I mean... Your not exactly young." You said shrugged. He gave you a playful glare. "Well I'm going to go to my room call me down when they get here."

You excused yourself upstairs to your room, leaving the two men to talk. "She's going to be a mom? How do you know if she can handle that?" Scott ask Chris.

"It's her choice at this point we both know I didn't want this! But I can't force her to abort! I couldn't just tell she would fail at being a mom! I think she'll do fine she's a strong kid you and me both know that.." Chris said sitting on the couch next to Scott.

"Well I'm here to help you both.. I'll tell her when she comes back."

"Thanks she's been stressing about telling everyone." Chris said sighing.

"But what about the media? They're going to notice when she grows a baby bump."

"We'll figure that out when we get there." Chris said shrugging.

---

You sat in your bedroom looking down at your belly where a baby would be growing, your baby. You still can't believe that. You sighed, whenever your alone you process what all happened, the breakup and your mom kicking you out being what you've been thinking about lately since you decided to keep the baby. You dated him for a year and knew him for most of your life but he gave it all up after you found of you were pregnant. Your mom, you always thought she'd never just give up on you, but now your living with your dad which means you'd probably be going back and forth from LA and Boston with your kid until you were old enough to not need to live with Chris.

Our thoughts were broken from Chris calling you downstairs after a half hour.

"Ready to tell everyone else cause they're on their way." Your dad told you once you made it to the living room. He had invited them all over for a small family get together since it's been so long since you've seen most of them. So your aunts, cousins and grandma were coming over and you were going to have to tell them. You were going to tell your grandpa later.

"Yeah." You said sighing as Dodger jumped on your lap licking your hand. You moved you hand petting him.

"Chris said your not going to name the baby after him... So are you going to name them after your favorite uncle?" Scott asked breaking the tension.

"Maybe." You giggled as your dad let out a hurt gasp.

"But not after your own dad?""

"I only said maybe.." You said rolling your eyes, as the doorbell rang letting you know that your aunt, her husband, and your cousins were here. "Okay I'm not ready. I don't know why I said I was ready I'm most definitely not." You said sighing. Chris gave you a reassuring smile as they walked into the living.

"Y/n!" Your youngest cousin, Miles ran into your arms his brother and sister closely behind.

"Miles!" You hugged the three younger kids smiling.

"Hi Aunt Carly, Uncle Ryan." You said looking up at the pair smiling. Your cousins pulled away from the hug going to play with Dodger so you hugged Carly.

"Hey y/n." She said once you pulled from the hug.

"Uh.. I have to tell you guys something." You said hesitantly. They nodded, looking at you curiously, Ethan the oldest of the three of your cousins, looked at you as well but you didn't notice. "I'm pregnant... And that's why I moved back to boston... Mom kicked me out." You mumbled. Well they weren't expecting that.

"Your only fifteen." Ryan said

"Mhmm..." You nodded looming at the floor.

"I thought only adults could get pregnant?" Your only female cousin, Stella asked. You looked at her not knowing how to respond.

"Why don't we go play with dodger outside..." Scott said taking the kids to the yard with dodger ignoring Stella's question.

"Who's the dad?" Carly asked you.

"Jake."

"How far along are you?" She asked.

"Two months. I'm keeping the baby. Jake knows about the baby he was the first person I told." You said. She nodded hugging you again. You sighed in relief. After you hugged her, Ryan pulled you into one too.

"Told ya nothing to worry about." Chris teased when you sat down next to him.

"I still have to tell aunt Shanna and grandma. Then I have to tell grandpa." You said rolling your eyes at him.

"And you have to explain to Stella not just adults can get pregnant." Ryan said.

"Okay, I didn't think they were listening!" You defended yourself.

"Well you'll have to get used to little kids being around your about to have one of your own." Carly said.

Scott and your cousins came back in after a few more minutes, Dodger following and jumping on your lap.

"N/n? How come your having a baby? We thought only adults could have babies?" Miles asked you stella standing next to him both of them looking at your curiously.

"Uh... I.." You looked at one of the adults for help but they just watched amused. "Wel-" you were cut off by your grandma walking in. Your sighed in relief. "Look grandma is here!" You stood up going over to her hugging her.

"You didn't answer our question!" Miles demanded pouting at you. "How are you having a baby?" Your eyes widened as your cousin just revealed to your grandma that you are pregnant. Ethan was laughing at the look on your face.

"You're having a baby?" Your grandma asked you looking at you.

"In my defense! I was going to tell you that myself! But yeah... Your gonna be a great-grandma! Surprise?" You said sheepishly pulling out of the hug. You looked at Chris begging for help but all he did was shake his head an amused smile on his face.

"Is that why you moved back here?" She asked.

"Yeah." You nodded, Miles and Stella stood beside you still awaiting your answer on how your having a baby, and Ethan's laughs had subsided after Carly shot him a warning glance.

"Answer our question!" Stella demanded pouting at you.

"She had Sex obviously!" Ethan said rolling his eyes. All eyes turned to him looking at him shocked.

"What's sex?" Miles asked. You tried your best not to laugh.

"Ethan! You can't tell your little siblings that!" Carly said.

"Miles don't worry about it. Uh go play with my old toys they're in my closet." You shooed your youngest cousins out of the room while, Carly and Ryan began to talk with Ethan on what's appropriate to tell your younger siblings. "Well! Wasn't that more event full then it should've been?" You asked Chris and Scott sitting next to them.

"Whos the father of the baby?" Your grandma asked you.

"My ex, Jake. I'm 8 weeks, and I'm keeping the baby." You said answering all the questions she could possibly ask.

"Okay." She smiled at you.

This definitely wasn't going as you expected. You excused yourself going with Ethan to find Miles and Stella. What your didn't know was your family were going to be discussing the information you just told them.

"Did she tell you?" Carly asked Chris.

"Her mom did. But I don't doubt that she would've on her own time if her mom didn't."

"Are you going to help her raise the baby? She's still a baby herself she can't raise one on her own." Lisa said.

"She made her decision. A hard one at that, her life just got flipped! I just have to help her." Chris said making it clear he wasn't going to turn against you. It seemed your family weren't either after his explanation.

Back with you, you sat in your room with your cousins, remembering how much you missed it. Missed being with your cousins and laughing. It was helping you forget everything that happened the past two weeks.

"What's Texas like?" Stella asked.

"It's nice." You said.

"Cool! Do you have to go back to texas in a few weeks?" Stella asked.

"Nope I'm here for good!" You said smiling.

"Yay!" Miles jumped onto your lap. "N/n? Why did you have to go back to Texas before?"

"Because my Mommy lived over there."

"But your daddy doesn't live there!" Stella said.

"I know but my mommy wanted me to live with her."

"So why are you living here now?" Ethan asked you but your pretty sure he knows.

"I made a mistake and she sent me here to help me fix the mistake." You explained laying back on your bed. Oh how you wish you never had to explain this to your cousins. How you wish you could go back a few weeks and say no. After a little bit Chris called you down so you could tell Shanna.

"Hi Aunt Shanna!" You said hugging her.

"Hey y/n." You guys walked to the couch to sit down and you gathered up all the courage you had to tell her.

"I have to tell you something." You mumbled. She nodded smiling at you. "Your gonna be a great aunt! And before you ask, yes that's why I live with dad again, I'm 8 weeks along, the baby's dad is Jake." You rambled looking at her sheepishly.

"Your pregnant?" She asked looking over at your dad for confirmation he nodded.

"Yep..." You said sighing.

"And you keeping the baby?" She asked, to which you nodded. "Okay." You let out a relieved smile and hugged her.

"Well this went better then I expected." You said to everyone in the room. Chris chuckled as you plopped next to him on the couch beginning to catch up with your family on anything besides the baby. He was happy to see you relaxing though he did notice that whenever he found you alone the past few days you didn't see so relaxed. You were always in your thoughts, he had an idea of what it was about but didn't know how to talk to you about it, this was your first heartbreak. When you told him you had a boyfriend last year he assumed it would be over after a little while seeing as you were 14. He didn't expect it to last so long.

TagList: @toastisgood @coldmuffinpartycloud @thevelvetseries

#chris evans x teen!reader #cevans #chris evans #chris evans x daughter!reader #teen pregnancy #daughter!reader #teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #i'll be there to help you the whole way #it takes a village

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annabethy · 3 years

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under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 13: princess

Character A’s little sibling/child wants to meet their favorite celebrity/writer/person for Christmas. Character B is said “Christmas Present” ,, percabeth. for that one anon

Percy can honestly say that he didn’t think this would end up happening.

When he had sent her a message, it had been done absentmindedly, fully expecting it to be ignored. He’s well aware that celebrities don’t respond to people like him, but it was Christmas, Estelle was on his last nerve, and he figured that he could at least try.

Somehow, all of that ends with him meeting up with a super hot Hollywood actress.

As Percy holds Estelle’s hand, who can’t stop bouncing excitedly, he thinks back to that moment. Estelle’s dramatic cry of meeting the princess in the live action remake of Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses had gotten to the point that he decided he was done and took things into his own hands.

It went something like him sending her, hey so my little sister is being annoying about the barbie movie and won’t shut up so can you come meet her so I can get a moment of peace?

When she responded, yeah sure when and where, he thinks he may have had a heart attack. It was surreal, setting up a mini meet and greet through instagram dms of all things, but it worked well enough because here he was, looking out for Annabeth.

“Where’s the princess!” Estelle demands, and Percy wants to bang his head into a wall. She’s practically screaming, and she’s pulling on his arm so arm that it may fall off.

“I don’t know,” he tells her.

“Find her.”

“Estelle. I don’t know where she is. Relax.”

“I want to see her now!” Estelle is only five years old so it’s understandable that she’s so annoying. Percy loves his baby sister dearly, but sometimes he questions why is mother had a baby so many years after him.

“The movie isn’t even that good. She wasn’t even a convincing princess.”

Estelle stomps. “Yes she is!”

Percy snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

It’s then that he feels hot breath on his ear, and he freezes, well aware that he’s just made a very dire mistake.

“Not a convincing princess?” someone whispers into his ear, a hint of humor in their voice. “You offend me.”

Percy whips around, and of course, there she is in all her glory.

He finds Annabeth Chase staring at him with eyes that look much more vibrant in person. She looks small and shy, and Percy thinks she would be the perfect person to hug in the cold.

He thinks she sure looks like a princess with the way her hair falls in old ringlets down her back, and her eyes shimmer in the sunlight. She’s not even dressed as a princess right now, but he could have been fooled.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Sure you didn’t.” Annabeth tightens her coat around herself, clearly cold, and she leans down to say hello to his sister. “You must be Estelle!”

Estelle gives her a wide grin, and Percy doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so happy before. “I am!”

“You look like a princess,” Annabeth tells her, bopping her on the nose gently. “You could be one of my sisters!”

Estelle’s eyes go wide. “You think so?”

“Of course I do, silly,” and wow, even her voice is elegant. Percy’s starting to think that maybe she really is a princess. He considers bowing to her.

“My brother says he’s your friend and that’s how he got you here,” she says, crossing her arms. Percy shoots his sister a look as she continues saying, “Is that true? My brother is a loser so I think he’s lying.”

“You don’t think your brother is cool?”

“Not to be friends with you,” Estelle says proudly.

“But I think he’s super cool! You’re super lucky to have him as a brother.”

Percy can see the change in Estelle’s demeanor having just got told that her brother is cool. Percy knows full and well that she’s about to suck up to him because her idol told her to, and that’s what children do. It makes him want to stick his tongue out at her as though saying told you so, and he would have if Annabeth wasn’t standing right there to see it.

“I’m kidding,” Estelle swears. “I play with him all the time,” which is a blatant lie.

When Estelle is no longer looking, Annabeth gives him a wink and mouths you’re welcome. Percy feels his face turn red because despite not loving the Barbie movie, he’s still all over everything else she’s been in, which is a lot. She’s practically royalty, and she’s talking to him. He’s breathing the same air as her.

At some point, they migrate over to a set of chairs outside the park they’re in. It’s pretty cold with the snow falling around them, but Estelle is vibrating with excitement to the point that he wouldn’t be surprised if she generated her own heat. Percy sits to the side, letting his sister have her moment. As entranced as he feels by the celebrity sitting in front of him, he knows that he probably shouldn’t show it, risking further teasing from both parties.

Annabeth’s super kind, he learns quickly. She laughs with her whole being and brightens up the room with her smile. She tells amazing stories about the fantasy, and Estelle listens intently. She’s so young that she doesn’t entirely realize that she’s not a real princess, and it warms Percy’s heart.

(And from the look Annabeth gives him, it warms hers too.)

It feels like hours that they’re sitting there before Percy decides they’ve had enough. As pleasant as Annabeth’s been for his sanity, he knows she’s probably getting tired herself.

“I think it’s time to say goodbye, Stella.”

And, of course, this cues the meltdown.

“No.”

Percy sighs. “We need to go home soon.”

“I don’t want to.”

Percy’s temper is beginning to shorten again, and he can tense the temper tantrum that’s about to occur. It’s just a question of which sibling is going to start it at this point.

“We can’t leave Princess Genevieve here without a way to get home!”

Percy almost laughs in his little sister’s face because Annabeth is not a Genevieve by any means. Genevieve is a ridiculous name for a princess anyways. Annabeth is much nicer for a princess. “I’m sure Princess Genevieve has her own ride home.”

“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend!” Estelle loudly blurts. “You never offer girls rides home!”

Annabeth chokes on air, and Percy considers jumping into the Hudson river and swimming away.

“I don’t want a girlfriend anyways, so good,” he says, tugging her hand into his.

“If you were a nice person, then maybe Princess Genevieve would’ve been your girlfriend.”

“They don’t date peasants like us. Come on.”

“Can we please take her home?” Estelle asks.

Percy sighs, dropping her hand. “Ask her yourself.”

He genuinely expects Annabeth to say no, so when his sister walks right on up to Annabeth and stares up at her, he is blatantly shocked as she says, “I would love to.”

It becomes very obvious that Percy ends up losing the fight against a five-year-old as he’s driving the car with Annabeth in the passenger seat and Estelle in her car seat in the back. Estelle’s continuously asking questions, and Percy is somewhat mortified because as time went on, Estelle gets more and more daring with what she asks.

Everything is mainly along the lines of having a boyfriend and pointed coughs in Percy’s direction. Each time, Annabeth would give him a knowing smile and he’d do everything to look anywhere but at her.

Percy can’t be thankful enough when they make it to his mom’s apartment, and he gets to kick Estelle out of the car. She gives a heartfelt goodbye to Annabeth and a glare at Percy before she’s out the door. It leaves him and Annabeth alone in the car, a silence settling between them.

They’ve been together for at least a couple of hours, but they haven’t truly interacted until now, so he’s at a loss as to what to do. It’s as though he’s blacked out during the last few hours, and maybe even the last few weeks, because last he remembers, he was just sitting on the couch doing nothing, and now Annabeth Chase is sitting in his car, looking at him expectantly.

Finally, she says, “Are you going to look at me, or…”

Percy turns his head like a deer in headlights. “I’m sorry.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I might. This is kind of weird.”

“What is?”

“Having you in my car.”

“Why?”

“You’re a celebrity.”

She smirks at him. “Do I intimidate you?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Well, don’t be intimidated.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re very famous. I will be intimidated, and you will let me be.”

“I mean, I get that, but there’s really no reason to be intimidated. The other day, I walked past a mirror and actually got excited to meet a celebrity.”

“What? You just forgot your own identity?”

She smiles. “Something like that.”

Percy laughs, slightly more at ease. He’s at least able to look her in the eyes now. She looks back at him and leans against the seat with her shoulder.

“Percy,” she teases. “You can talk to me.”

“Believe me, I’m trying.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes fondly. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“For my sister.”

“It wasn’t really for her.”

Percy frowns, confused. “But you said…”

“I know what I said. The reason I even opened the message wasn’t because of her, though.”

Percy bites his lower lip nervously because the mood in the car has suddenly changed, and he’s certain he doesn’t have tinted windows.

“I opened it because I thought you were hot.”

Percy blinks, a beat passes, and then he bursts out laughing. “You thought I was hot!?”

“You are! I thought maybe it would be fun!”

“You live in LA with a ton of super rich and famous people, and you come after me? The guy that can barely afford his own apartment?” “I mean… it doesn’t really matter if you can’t afford it because I can. But that’s only if, like, this actually goes anywhere.”

“Are you always this forward?”

“Absolutely not, but you couldn’t even look me in the eyes, and I have to leave soon.”

“So you’re saying you want to, what? Marry me?”

“Exactly,” she deadpans.

“Woah, baby, I hardly know you! How could I marry you!”

“Hilarious.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“My point is,” she says pointedly, “I like you and would want to see you again. Without a child there.”

Percy’s brain is going bonkers right now because Annabeth Chase just asked him out. It’s even crazier because he’s thinking of saying yes. He tries to withstand, because he knows that he’ll never fit in with everything she’s surrounded by, but something tells him that she won’t mind, so he gives in.

“Fine,” he says playfully. “I guess I’ll take you on a date.”

“Oh shut up. I’ve been around Estelle all day telling me about how much her brother wants me to date him.”

“I didn’t say that, but to be fair, she’s not wrong.”

Annabeth shoots him a surprised look. “You’re not as shy as I thought.”

“Neither are you,” he counters, and it’s true. Annabeth has been making the first moves, and it’s different than what he usually sees. The thing is, he can tell this is exactly the way Annabeth is, and he’s determined to switch things up for her.

“Hey princess,” he says. “I feel like there should be a true love’s kiss before people go on a date, don’t you think?”

“Is that what this is? True love?”

“Isn’t it? You live in a fairytale.”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out, then.”

Percy pouts and whispers, “Bummer,” and then he’s pulling her in for a sweet kiss. It’s not at all him, and he’s sure this is no longer at all her either, but it feels right to both of them. Then, Annabeth bites his bottom lip, lets out a breathtaking whimper, and Percy deepens the kiss.

“These windows aren’t tinted,” Percy jokingly breathes out against her when she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“That’s okay,” she replies, smiling into the kiss. “I’m not one to be shy.”

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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dc41896 · 3 years

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It All Makes Sense

Another quick Christmas idea I had based on the first instastory of him watching a Christmas movie with Dodger☺️. Probably super cliché lol but hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff💕!

“Look who finally decided to join us bubba,” Chris smirks watching you get settled under your blanket propping your phone against one of your pillows.

“I know, I’m late I’m sorry,” you yawn making him laugh.

“You’re gonna be out within the first 15 minutes.”

“No I’m not, it was just a little yawn.”

“Sure, just like last weekend when that same little yawn left me watching Home Alone by myself.”

“Whatever. Are you gonna play the movie or what?,” you smirk back picking up your remote.

Counting to three, you both hit play on your respective TVs starting the opening sequence of the Grinch. For the past month this had been a weekend routine where one of you would pick a movie and you’d both FaceTime each other as if you were watching it side by side. Of course it didn’t compare to him physically being there, lazily dragging his fingers up and down your spine as your head lied on his chest gently rising and falling with every breath. It’d have to do for the time being though.

Having his phone further away, you could see his full body clad in a navy sweater and jeans lying beside Dodger who looked to be falling asleep himself with his droopy eyes.

“Are you watching me or the movie?,” he asks catching your gaze.

“For a second I thought I was looking at my grandpa since you have the same sweater and slippers,” you retort causing his head to tilt back on his pillow in laughter.

“This sweater and these slippers are very comfortable, so if me liking them makes me a grandpa then so be it.” Now was your turn to laugh at him sticking his tongue out at you as if he was a little kid. Sinking the side of your face deeper into the pillow, you sigh as you both adoringly look at each other softly smiling.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he replies bringing the phone closer.

“Actually I was talking to Dodger, but yea you too I guess,” you joke making him gasp.

“I should hang up on you.”

“But you won’t. You love me too much.”

“Yea,” he sighs bringing his free hand behind his head. “You got me there.”

Throughout the movie, you caught up on each other’s day and how your families were doing along with your plans for Christmas Day. Continuing tradition, he’d be at his mom’s with the rest of his siblings and their families, who he couldn’t wait to see. Being with his family was the main reason he loved the holidays, and seeing his face light up at the mention of them or when he’d talk with them over the phone, you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

Not hearing you laugh at the Grinch trying to find something to wear, your favorite part, Chris looks at his phone to find your eyes closed and lips slightly pouted making him snort as he shakes his head.

At this point, it’s me and Dodger having the movie nights😆 he types attaching the screenshot of your sleeping form to his text before hitting send.

———

“Come play!,” Stella giggles pulling Chris’ much larger hand trying to get him to move from the couch.

“Okay, in a minute,” he laughs at her adorable efforts trying to use all the strength her tiny body could muster. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“Kay.” With a tiny huff, she turns on her heel running to her mom so she could help put on her winter coat and boots leaving Chris on the couch once again checking his messages.

He called you as soon as his eyes opened to wish you a Merry Christmas, only to immediately be sent to your voicemail. He didn’t worry too much at first, thinking maybe you forgot to charge your phone overnight since you fell asleep early. However as the day progressed and you had yet to call back or reply to any of his messages, he grew a little hurt.

“Maybe she’s just busy with family,” he thought standing up to retrieve his hoodie and coat from the closet before being stopped by Scott coming through the front door motioning for him to come outside.

“Hey there’s another package out here for you.”

“Scott come on, you’re not gonna get me like that again,” he counters still trying to head towards the backyard before having to be turned around by his brother and guided outside.

“It’s not a trick! I’m telling you, it just got delivered.”

Walking outside with a sigh, he scans the wooden floor of the porch not finding any sort of box but instead being pleasantly startled with smile growing on his face seeing you rise from behind the bushes. Equally bright smile tugging at your lips as well.

“I hope I’m not too late. Shipping took a bit longer than expected.”

He immediately picks you up crashing his lips onto yours as your legs wrap around his waist and arms around his neck not wanting to let go. Burying his face in your neck, the sensation of his nose and beard nuzzling against your skin makes you giggle.

A string of “aww’s” coming from the front door surprises both of you, taking a moment from your tender reunion to look up and see his immediate family all smiling at the sight of the both of you.

“Get a room!,” Scott shouts leaning against the frame and earning a playful smack to the arm by his older sister.

“So this is why you weren’t answering,” Chris smirks as you softly nod with your fingers grazing his beard. “Did you have this planned the whole time?”

“Well yes and no..”

“Don’t hurt baby!,” Stella shouts only to be hurriedly shushed by those around her and mouth covered by Scott only making her giggle more. Slightly panicked, you and his family both look at Chris hoping he didn’t hear what she just said. Judging from his confusion as he looked between all of you though, you knew hoping was futile.

“Baby? Is she calling you baby?,” he chuckles thinking maybe she’d somehow picked up his pet name for you from overhearing your conversations.

“No...she means baby as in our baby.” Sliding out of his grip to stand on your own, you unzip your carryon backpack removing the Santa themed gift bag to hand to him. His heartbeat quickens in anticipation for what he thinks you’re saying pushing the tissue paper aside to lift up a silver picture frame with four separate squares. There was only one empty slot left with the rest having pictures of the two of you cuddled on the couch, Dodger tilting his head with wide smile on his furry face, and an ultrasound of a small body. In the empty slot was a note that read “can’t wait to meet my family!,” making him quickly wipe his eyes as a soft laugh escapes his lips.

Smiling at you also trying to wipe your tears before they could pass your lids, he kneels down in front of your tummy as one hand roams where your protrusion would soon be and the other stays attached to your side.

“And you must be the reason mommy’s been so tired huh? Well more than usual, between you and me she could never watch a full movie without knocking out.”

“Hey,” you laugh smacking his shoulder. “Just for that, I should go back home.”

“But you won’t,” he chuckles, standing up with thumbs rubbing back and forth near your bellybutton. “Because you love me too much.”

“Hmm..maybe..”

“No, definitely.”

“Possibly,” you giggle as you peck his lips nearly touching yours.

“Absolutely.” Connecting your lips once more, he rests his forehead on yours loving the feeling of his arms around you, body fitting perfectly against him.

“Merry Christmas Chris.”

“Merry Christmas Y/N.”

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in my masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans

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wind-goddess-eri · 3 years

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Lemons in the Hospital (Hannibal King x F!OC)

Okay, here me out. I was watching Blade and It was on my mind cause I’m weird. I made a little smut thing......Enjoy!

Warning ⚠️: mental hospital, death, abuse of power, needles are mentioned.

The Mental Institution seemed even gloomier today than usual in Nurse Stella Mercer's eyes. Granted that she worked in a hospital that not only took care of the physically, mentally and strangely disabled, but also for those with 'certain qualities'. Qualities like being vampires that were somehow disabled in some form or another, vampire slayers that couldn't work anymore, demons that passed as humans, like Nurse Mercer who was a half demon half human herself, that couldn't 'function properly' around human mortals. This place took care of not only humans, but the inhuman as well.

Working here made anyone's day gloomy but today the supply for candles as lighting only made it gloomier. The hospital was trying to cut back on using so much power so the main doctor ordered all the staff to use every candle available for light in rooms that didn't have light bulbs. The room Nurse Mercer was currently in was one of those rooms, filled with probably 100 candles or more out of reach of the three patients she had today. Running a hand through her light brown hair she sighed deeply at the sight before her.

There was Deacon, a vampire patient in here because of his mental disability he'd gotten a while back during one of his hunts in Africa. With his medium length hair that was pulled into a ponytail and his toned body he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb because his posture was that of a child's, clearly not looking like he was 'normal'. His case was so severe that he only had two options; Let his vampire clan kill him so the secret would be safe or come here, where all abnormality was welcome, even to humans who were the doctor's favorite type of patients. Deacon had somewhat of a bipolar personality; in one moment he'd act like a child and seemed to take everything around him like any child would. Other times though, when he was really mad he'd claim he was going to break out and kill as many humans as he pleased. Since he was a vampire, the staff took him seriously. If anyone tried to take away his bagged blood (which was how they fed their vampires) he'd become violent, so no one bothered him too much. It was only bagged blood, no harm no foul. He was calm today. None of the human staff were allowed to be near the vampires. Even if they worked at the institution, no human was allowed to know of supernatural beings. It wasn't hard to keep that secret when there were mind wipers working in the building.

Hannibal King was a curious case really. Clearly the man was human, with his tanned skin, muscled chest and arms but what gave him away most was his scent. His reflexes weren't that bad either. The ruggedy look he always had on also gave away that he was an aging mortal. With short cropped hair and eyes that just pulled anyone in he would have made a very impressive vampire, which he claimed he once was until he found a cure. No one but Danica believed he was ever really a vampire because none had ever changed back into a human. Danica knew all his thoughts and knew he was telling the truth. The fact that Hannibal had chosen to become human again scored him high in Danica's book, though Danica wished she could have that choice. Hannibal King had once been a human vampire hunter or slayer but had gotten into a bad accident on a mission with the daywalker Blade that had paralyzed him from the waist down. All he could now move was the waist up and was bound in a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. He seemed to take life as a handout; whatever he got he deserved. Sometimes though, he would write in his notebook with such vigor that he'd look like he was cursing the world for what he'd lost. Hunting was all he knew. The fierceness in his eyes almost made Nurse Spenser fearful every time she was around him, which was strange to her. Like somehow he'd be less human than what he was. Strangely though, him and his roommates Deacon and Danica, both vampires, got along well.

Casually Stella's eyes looked over at Danica Talos. She had black, messy hair with golden, yet unfocused eyes. Her case was simple, yet just as hard to believe as Deacon because it was hard to damage a vampire, let alone make it permanent. She was blind from an incident that was so freaky it actually blinded her permanently and nothing could be done. Since she'd also gone partially deaf she couldn't be allowed into the world on her own.

These three were now Stella's permanent patients. Only about four times before today had she actually taken care of them in the past six months she'd worked here; mainly because she'd only substituted for their main care giver before but now she'd been assigned as their permanent Nurse. Mrs. Cole, their old nurse, had passed away. Now she was responsible for merely three patients at all times instead of different patients every day. They seemed to like her enough to not complain. Deacon claimed that she was like an older sister to him, Danica always expressed her gratitude for Stella 'clean thoughts' by playing songs for her on her keyboard for her when she asked. Hannibal King always let Stella read his journal entries about his life before he came here. He wouldn't let any other read his stuff and he used violence to enforce that. He may have been in a wheelchair, but the man was still deadly.

As Stella gazed about the small common room the three of them shared, she saw that Deacon was playing with his toys (clearly mentally five years old right now), Danica was playing her keyboard messing with melodies and Hannibal was staring out the window. Straightening out her uniform, Stella made her way over to Hannibal and started to wheel him away. "It's time for your bath, Hannibal," she whispered in his ear trying not to disturb Deacon and Danica even though both could clearly hear her. They were still vampires even if damaged ones. Stella took him to the entrance of his door and walked away for a moment or two.

Before she knew it even happened, Hannibal had grabbed her hand and looked her in the eyes. She'd never seen that look in them before and could not distinguish what it was. "Don't leave me," he whispered so quietly that she knew not even the others would hear. She walked back to him from her short distance, getting even closer with every step. With ease she removed his hand trying not to blush because as much as she didn't want to admit it, she thought he was too sexy for his own good. Sweetly she smiled at him. "I must Hannibal. I have to get everything ready for your bath." With that she walked away again. Not even four steps later she heard the sound of glass break. Quickly turning around she entered into his bedroom and found that he'd taken his night drinking glass and broke it. As she bent down to pick up the big broken pieces she felt his eyes staring at her. She ignored him for a moment but when she used the broom and dust pan to remove the little pieces and still felt his eyes on her she turned around to find him staring at her ass. Slowly she raised her left eyebrow at him until he noticed she was watching him watch her.

Finishing up with the broken glass Stella turned to head for the trash can in the other room then heard a 'thud'. Quickly dumping the shattered pieces of glass into the plastic purple bin she turned around to find the source of the sound. Before she even took two steps she saw Hannibal at the doorway crawling towards her. Having no clue as to what to make of his suddenly strange behavior, she did the logical thing; her job. Making sure not to walk over someone, she paced herself carefully and picked him up, making sure not to squeeze too tightly and crush him with her demon strength and put him in his wheelchair and rolled him to the bathroom.

Speak of the devil, right as she turned the water on in the tub to the right temperature Deacon came in with a goofy child-like smile on his face. "What are you doing Nurse Mercer?" he asked in a child-like way, his voice sounding innocent. His ruby red eyes gleamed of curiosity.

She didn't turn to him as she answered him, continuing to adjust Hannibal's bath water. "It's time for Hannibal's bath Deacon." The water was perfect now.

Unexpectedly, Deacon's voice took on a tone of humor. "Ha ha, Hannibal's a dirty boy! Hannibal's a dirty boy!" Before he could continue his chant, Nurse Mercer got up, took Deacon by the hand and led him back to the common room the three of them shared. "Where are we going, Stella?" his attention completely distracted.

"It's time to play with your army men, Deacon," she answered. While setting Deacon G.I. Joe in front of him, she noticed Danica was wandering around, as if she was searching for something. "Danica, are you looking for something?"

She paused where she was at. "Just keep staring at me so I can see through your eyes where the bathroom is. I need to discard this shirt and puke in the toilet." "Why do you need to do those things?" Stella asked politely.

"For one thing, Deacon poured something all over me. Secondly, he made me swallow some of Hannibal's human food." With understanding she took Danica to the bathroom, ignoring her protests and led her directly to the toilet.

Quickly unbuttoning her shirt, Stella turned to leave. "Are you ok from here?" she asked again.

"Fine, thank you, Stella," she whispered as he regurgitated into the toilet. She hoped Danica wouldn't miss the bowl by accident SOMEHOW. She was a vampire after all.

When Stella came back to the other bathroom where Hannibal was, she noticed that he had already stripped down butt-naked on the floor. Using her massive strength, she picked him up and set him in his bath water. The soap slipped from her hand as she'd reached for it and dropped on top of his legs. Eventually getting to his back after she'd made her way from the legs up. Out of nowhere, she heard him speak. "You're very pretty, Stella," he whispered very quietly. Momentarily she stopped washing him and looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in them; and she found it.

Then she shrugged and continued washing him, remembering that this was her job. "I'm serious. You are beautiful," he continued, his voice a little louder than the first time. Again she shrugged, trying not to blush (which wasn't working). Her eyes did not meet his this time as she could tell he was waiting for her to answer but she remained silent. After cleaning his neck she reached for the shampoo and proceeded with going after his succulent, thick and short brown hair. As her fingers dug the cleansing product into his scalp, moving through the soft hair her attention was so caught up that she didn't even see him reach for her until she'd been pulled into the tub with him.

Too shocked to do anything else, she merely got out of the tub. In doing this, she'd noticed that both her white pants and undergarments were completely soaked. Slightly irritated she grabbed two towels, placed them next to the wheelchair, picked Hannibal up, put him back into it and placed the towels over his crotch. "Bath time is over." The words came out harsher than she'd meant them to be but he ignored her anyway.

Wheeling him to his room she heard him speak again. He seemed to be getting on her nerves a lot today. "You should change," he suggested. Apparently he seemed to not notice her predicament of having no extra clothes.

"Uh, no Hannibal. I don't have spare clothes here." There, that was logical, wasn't it?

Unfortunately he wouldn't let it go. "Just grab a towel. No use walking around in wet clothes." The way he said it was so calm that as he said this it actually seemed to make sense to her. So she did. Once she'd removed her wet clothes and the towel was around her waist (her shirt still on) she started to dry him off, sadly attempting to NOT stare at his crotch. Yes he was one of the sexiest beings alive to her but just because she was his nurse didn't mean she could just ogle his private parts while changing him.

While she was drying off his chest he'd grabbed her so quickly behind her neck and kissed her passionately. For a lack of better judgment, she merely gave in to his power he'd had over her from the moment she saw him, sitting in his window. She was his if he wanted her because somehow, this man had claimed her half demonic heart even though they hardly knew each other. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you, Stella." he whispered into her ear when he went to take a breath. This got her heart racing faster than it had ever gone before in her life. He pulled her face away from him so she'd look into his eyes. The lust and passion was evident in those brown orbs. "I don't care if you're half demon, I want you!"

With that he quickly unbuttoned her blouse and worked his magical hands over her skin, making sure to touch every inch of her flesh. For the first time in over twenty three years, she'd made a rash decision without thinking and just let her lust take over as she let him over power her body. Once the garment was removed he unclasped the front of her bra and released her breasts from their confines. His hungry mouth latched onto one of them, causing intense heat to build up in her lower abdomen. He taunted the tight nipple, making it hard as rock and just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, he moved to the other one, giving it as much attention as the one before. But she could only take so much torture. As the pressure built inside her she felt the need to create some friction, hoping it would ease some of the tension. Just as bare as the day she was born she rubbed her nude body against his slightly, only intensifying the build-up. Pushing him down against his mattress, she straddled his waist just above where she wanted him most.

His cock stood hard and firm, waiting for her make him sink deep within her. She kissed up and down his chest, tasting every inch of him before returning to his lips. Those lips looked like they needed a good sucking and she was happy to be the sucker to taste those babies. The pressure of his hands guiding her hips near his length brought back her fierce arousal. Without even another thought she rammed herself on his painfully erect cock. She couldn't wait for the foreplay; she needed a release as much as he seemed to need a good fuck. God only knew he looked like he needed one badly.

The feeling of his hard member inside her made her pant hard as she started to move fast, taking the lead instantly. Faster and faster she rocked her hips to match his as he used his arms to thrust up inside her, hitting that sensitive spot. Sweat started to pour over the both of them as they felt the tip of their orgasms. Bucking harder it was only seconds a few minutes later until they both completed the race to the finish with a mind-blowing, out of this world first rate orgasm.

Removing herself from on top of him she laid next to him, still not believing that they had just shared a passionate moment together and that he was in love with her. But as the seconds ticked by she started to believe because I DID happen. Both of their bodies were covered in sweat, the room smelled like sex, and the fact that they were both flushed pink only hardened the evidence.

Just as she was about to say something to break the silence that had been going on for several minutes there was a loud banging on his door. Apparently she'd locked it and forgot why at the moment. By the sound of the person's voice it was the doctor with his weird, raspy voice. "OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR!" he yelled. Not wanting to either upset the doctorshe quickly threw on her (now) dry clothes and helped Hannibal dress as fast as they could then opened the door with a smile. The look on his face showed his annoyance at once. "Why as the door locked?" he asked, using his calm voice suspiciously.

The answer came to her only that quickly because it was completely true. "Deacon was bothering Hannibal today so I locked the door while changing him so he'd have some privacy." Quickly her eyes darted to the movement of doctor's hand. "What's with the needle?" she asked, suddenly noticing how huge it was as he waved it around in his hand.

The doctor smiled evilly, like he always did. "It's time for Mr. King's check-up. Wouldn't want our little human to die on us, would we?"

Suddenly she noticed how eerily quiet it was. It was never this quiet, not when you had a vampire that never slept who thought he was five years old and another vampire who again never slept but played the keyboard almost constantly. Something felt wrong. "I'm just going to check on Deacon," she mumbled as she walked out of the room. Briskly walking to Deacon's room, what she saw made her heart stop cold. His body laid lifeless (more than normal) on the floor. His frame was perfectly still, flat on his stomach with a giant needle standing straight out from his spine. It was the same exact kind that Hannibal was going to be given.

Without another thought she raced back to Hannibal's room, not bothering to check on Danica, knowing that she was already dead. If the doctor was going to start killing off his patients, he would start off with the ones that would warn the others. In this case, it would have been Danica. At least she could have given a fair warning that would have alarmed Deacon, Hannibal and herself. Deacon would have probably just kept playing with his toys.

There he laid on his side, coughing and gasping on the floor, his life fading before her very eyes. NO! This couldn't be happening. Not when she'd finally found someone to love her just the way she was. She didn't know what to do since she had no clue what was in the needle so she started to freak out, pulling her hair and such. Kneeling next to him she took his pulse and found it almost non-existent. He only had seconds left to live. Pulling out the needle she was about to try and suck out the drugs he'd been given but his hand pulled her to his face. "Just let me die. Trust me," he whispered, a smile dancing his face she saw for the first time. And with that, the heart of Hannibal King, former evil-vampire slayer's heart stopped beating and he died.

#n/sfw text #smut #tw death #hannibal king x f!oc #blade trilogy #fanfic #my writing

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