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dreamsofbroflovski · 2 months ago

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Kenny McCormick x Reader - i luv your girl

Also available on ao3!

Summary: Being stood up when you have the absolutely perfect anniversary date planned would be enough to send anyone spiraling and make them question if anything is even worth it at this point. Luckily for you, the perfect loverboy is willing to sweep you off your feet and show you a good time to help you make a decision.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content (everyone involved is above the age of consent), Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cowgirl Position, Semi-Public Sex, Cheating/Infidelity

A/N: Ugh, I am so fucking sorry. I had this thing like, 75% done on my Docs, and then something else on my life took complete chokehold on me and I couldn't make any progress on it at all for several days. I promise I'll try to write quicker and post more often in the future. Next up on the chopping block (I'm not actually chopping him up, though he deserves it) is Kyley-B, for a request (I'm taking those now) (Also sorry to the follower for taking so long to get to it I am a disgrace)

“Come on… Come on… Pick it up, will you…”

Clutching my phone in my hands firmly, close to my face as I stared at it with my eyes drifting between the ‘Call’ screen and the battery icon, I paced back and forth on the sidewalk. The sun shined bright and beautiful in the sky, still my mood was anything but - the nerves were exponentially starting to get to me, and I was on my last line.

It was supposed to be my two-year dating anniversary with my current boyfriend, and I had the whole day planned to perfection. Taking advantage of the fact that the weather forecast was announcing a very warm and sunny day - which is rare for our town -, I planned to spend the whole day with my man, starting off with a whole picnic in the park around the local pond. I was wearing my prettiest floral sundress and had a whole basket full of goodies to be enjoyed under the sunlight. Had made sure to arrive early and wait in a place that was of easy access for both me and my partner so we could walk to our destination together. It was all perfect.

Perfect, except for the absence of my other half.

For three hours now I had been waiting, sitting on a bench near a local restaurant that I usually frequent for lunch on workdays, looking around all the time for any signs of him, and he had not arrived. I called and called with my phone but they all went to voicemail, sent a bunch of texts that stayed on delivered - and worse, my battery was now close to dying out, since I forgot to charge it before I left, not thinking it was important since I didn’t plan on spending so much time on my phone anyway. It was currently running at 4% as I tried to call him as many times as possible before it died out and I had to think of another plan.

My heart skipped a beat as the call was answered.

“Baby? Baby! Where are you?” I exclaimed as I put my phone to my ear, my agitation clear on my voice.

*“Mmmmm… Hey, babe… What’s up…” *An extremely groggy version of my boyfriend’s voice came through the phone’s speakers, not nearly close to matching my anxiety.

“What do you mean, what’s up? Where are you?” My mind already had a faint idea of the answer, but I had a sliver of hope in my heart that it might be wrong.

“Huh… In bed.”

Of fucking course. “In bed? How? It's almost 2pm! We were supposed to meet three hours ago!” It was not my intention to scold him, but in my exasperation it sounded exactly like that.

A few seconds of silence from the other side of the call as my partner seemingly processed the information. *“Damn… Sorry, babe. I stayed up late gaming with the boys and slept through the alarm.” *He sounded slightly less groggy now, like my revelation was a shock to his brain, but not by much.

“I called you so many times, though!” I countered, “Why didn’t you pick those up?”

*“Yeah, sorry about that. I thought it was telemarketing or something.” *His voice didn’t carry a hint of remorse.

I took a deep breath, trying not to scream or make a scene right there on the street. The day was so beautiful, I just didn’t wanna waste it arguing. “Well, you’re still coming, right?” I asked, trying my best to sound patient and less accusatory. “Can you give me an ETA or something?”

“Babe, let’s just… Let’s just take a rain check, alright? It’s late already.” *He sounded as nonchalant as could be as he said that, as if the thing he was cancelling wasn’t our literal anniversary date. *“I promise I’ll make it up to you some other time.”

“It’s our anniversary, baby! I’m already here! What do you-”

With a jolly ringtone, the call was cut short. I put my phone in front of my eyes just in time to see the animation of it turning off on the screen, my battery breathing its last before the device died completely.

And then there was just me.

In small, shaky steps, I made my way to a street bench nearby and sat down, setting my picnic basket to my side and watching with glazed eyes as the cars went by on the street, still clutching my phone in my hand. After waiting for so long, making excuses for my boyfriend’s tardiness on what was supposed to be a date to celebrate the day our relationship started, a date I planned from beginning to end and made sure was completely flawless, it all went to shit in the span of one phone call that didn’t even get to end because I ran out of battery before it could. I was left alone, heartbroken, stressed and with no way of going back home except on foot.

Allowing myself to have at least one thing I wanted, I lowered my face, hiding it with my hands, and let the tears roll fast and plentiful. My whole body shook as I sobbed, all the nerves of the day taking physical form in the salty droplets running from my eyes, as I recalled not just how much of a bad current situation I was in, but all the previous disappointments in my relationship that I swept under the rug because of love. And, deep down, I knew I was likely to let the broom of my self-neglect swipe this one, too.

For what felt like forever, this was all that I had. One of the prettiest outfits of my life, a basket full of food, painful memories running through my mind, tears that didn’t seem to be able to stop running down my cheeks. Until I got something else.

“Hey… Ma’am? Miss?” A gentle male voice called near me, seemingly out of nowhere, bringing me back to the world of the living, so to speak. “Can I help you? Do you need anything?”

I shook my head, still not looking to the source of the sound, now feeling deeply ashamed of myself. Engrossed in my own feelings, I forgot this was still public space and someone was bound to question me at any time, considering how nosy people in this small town tend to be. “I’m fine,” my voice cracked a bit as I said it.

“I am pretty sure you aren’t,” The voice responded, with a sliver of irony, but still gentle, like he wanted to make sure I knew he wasn’t laughing at me. I felt a hand on my bare shoulder - calloused fingers shook it with just as much kindness as I heard in the voice behind them.

“It’s alright, sir,” I sniffled while trying to steady my voice, hoping my fake reassurance would be enough to make this unknown person leave already. “I’ll be leaving soon, don’t worry about it.”

“‘Sir’ is my dad,” He chuckled, “My name is Kenny. At least to all the pretty girls. So call me Kenny.”

His response took a small giggle out of me, even if my whole mind found it inappropriate to do so considering the circumstances. Whoever it was that tried to talk to me was actually making an effort to make things better, not just ask questions out of obligation or curiosity. Slowly, I wiped my tears away with my hands, answered him with my own name and lifted my face up, trying to put an image to ‘Kenny’. And put an image to it I did.

It was almost like the head and body of two different action figures smashed into one. From the neck down, it was simple and rather elegant. The man wore all black, as was common for that restaurant’s waiters; The usual dress shirt with the restaurant’s logo had its first two or three buttons open, making it just slightly more stylish. The charcoal gray apron wrapped around his hips was perfectly spotless like it had never been worn before, and he wore a pair of dress shoes that seemed to have been recently shined.

Once my eyes went up, though, everything seemed to change. His blond hair was styled in some sort of shaggy mullet. The very visible dark circles under his eyes came as a stark contrast to his laid-back posture and the youthful energy I just felt emanating from his body. On the matter of his eyes, I couldn’t pinpoint their color for the life of me; Some trick of the sunlight was clearly at play in them, because in some angles they were blue and in others I could’ve sworn they were lavender. Some tiny reddish nicks speckled his jawline and chin, likely from shaving and not doing a very good job at it. When his mouth was open, I could see that his teeth were slightly crooked, and he had a bit of a gap between the front two on the top row.

The things that were the most startling about his appearance, though, were the scars and piercings on his face, and those he had several of. I could count two eyebrow piercings, a nose ring, a single earring on his right ear and an industrial bar on the other that seemed to still be healing. On the matter of scars, all of them were healed and faded, but screamed gruesome stories; One on his upper lip that went up to end at the side of his nostril, another one on his temple, and a third, the biggest, started on the right side of his jaw and went all the way down to the start of his neck.

To be honest, I liked the look of the top part more than the bottom.

As he saw me looking up at him, the corners of his lips curved into a smile, a genuine one filled with kindness. “Wanna talk to someone about it?” He asked as he pushed my picnic basket on the bench away and sat to my side, leaning forwards with his face towards me.

“Ugh… No, I just…” My fingers ran through my hair in stress as I threw my head back, feeling my eyes burn with tears again and trying to chase them away so I could at least leave this situation and go home without further questions.

“Let me guess… boy troubles?”

It was a rather sexist guess on his part, but I wasn’t about to fight it, because he happened to be right. “How do you…?”

I turned my face to look at him and he pointed to my hand on my hair, where on my ring finger rested a thin silver band with my boyfriend’s name engraved on the inside. “You’ve got a ring.” Turns out he wasn’t being misogynistic at all. He was just too attentive, something I’m not used to.

With a sigh, I slouched forwards with my face down again.

“Now I’m curious,” Kenny admitted as he leaned back on the seat of the bench, resting his arms on top of it, “What kind of monster made a goddess like you cry like that?”

I shook my head again and pointed to his shirt, specifically to the restaurant’s logo embroidered on the uniform. “Don’t you have somewhere to be right now?”

“Don’t worry about it. The place’s practically empty right now. Most people are at the mall or at Stark’s Pond anyway.” He shrugged. “And besides… I shouldn’t tell you this, but my boss is acting kinda crazy thinking you’re scouting the place to rob. So me being here probably puts his mind at ease because now he has a witness.”

Great. Just lovely. Now, on top of my whole shitty life situation, I’ll also have to find all the workers at that place looking at me funny whenever I go in for lunch. “So you told him you’d come here to teach the possible thief a lesson?”

“No. I told him there was no way in Hell someone as adorable as you was up to no good.” It was the third compliment on my appearance in less than five minutes of interaction. Apparently he was the type of man to not be deterred by something as ‘insignificant’ as a woman’s boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Well, your boss can rest assured,” I said, “I was just waiting here to go on a date. No robbery plans.”

“That’s what I thought.” He nodded slowly. “But I saw you while I was working. You’ve been here quite a while. What happened?”

“Well…” I took a deep breath, trying to put it all into words without bawling immediately - it still didn’t stop some tears from falling and my voice from cracking as I finally spoke again, “Apparently, my boyfriend slept past his alarm and forgot our anniversary date.”

Sudden movement to my side had me startled and I looked up again. Kenny was on his feet, an exasperated expression on his face. “What a bastard! YOU’RE sitting here, looking like a fucking snack for him, and your stupid ass boyfriend is at his place sleeping when he could be ravaging you?”

This man sounded genuinely indignant, even if extremely crude - in a twisted way, it only served to fill my brain up with more thoughts that maybe I wasn’t being treated as decently as I deserved, because I found myself not wanting to dispute him or make excuses for my boyfriend’s behaviour, either. “Don’t put it like that…”

“I always put it in in many ways,” Kenny sat back down next to me on the bench, the double entendre he spat definitely understood and ignored by me when I tried my best not to laugh, “And the only thing your boyfriend there seems to be putting is stress on your shoulders.”

He put his hand on my back and rubbed it gently slowly, as if trying to physically remove this figurative weight he mentioned - and, surprisingly, I felt it working even if just a little bit. My facial expression probably gave my enjoyment away, because he didn’t remove his hand even after he stopped moving it, and I let him keep it like that.

“I mean, it’s not that bad…” I avoided Kenny’s gaze as I uttered those words, and immediately the pain he had soothed came crashing down again. “”It’s just one date. I’m sure it’s-”

“Don’t you start this on me now,” Kenny interrupted before I could continue my poor attempt at a dispute, “You know it is that bad. It’s your anniversary. Fuck, if I had a chick willing to do all that for me, I’d stick to her like bubblegum on a shoe,” he chuckled nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair, the thought of having someone who cared about him that much apparently making his brain run amok - he was probably the type of person to try to get things done for people instead of the other way around.

“And I’ll say more,” he took a deep breath and continued as he took note of my silence, “Even if it was just a date, you should still be pissed. You agreed on something and he fucked it up. And now you’re here, looking sad and hot. If this happened to any of your girl friends, you’d tell them to send the garbage dick to the gutters, wouldn’t you?”

I tried opening my mouth to argue further, try to defend my man’s behaviour or justify it, but found myself running dry of the excuses I usually had on hand. It was like something inside of me had snapped, and if there was one goddamn day of my relationship where I would allow myself to be angry and expect reparations, it would be this one.

“Thanks, Kenny,” I murmured, nodding slowly and letting my gratitude shine through my eyes as well when I gazed into his, “Means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it,” he shook his head, making his shaggy hair flow beautifully and frame his face even better, “Consider this my first real attempt at becoming employee of the month.”

In a weird way, Kenny’s presence and his charisma were starting to make me feel better. I felt drawn to continue talking to him, if just to hear his voice more.

“Are you a new hire?” I asked, signaling with my head towards the restaurant where he worked at, “I come here often and I’ve never seen you there before.”

“Oh, no no no, I’ve been there a couple of months now,” Kenny was quick to answer, waving his hand in front of him to emphasize the negative, “But I usually just do cleaning duty and help in the kitchen. They don’t want me waiting tables because I ain’t exactly got a face for customer service.”

I didn’t argue with his comment, but it wasn’t for a lack of wanting to. The man sitting next to me was absolutely handsome. Every single one of his features displayed intense personality and charm, and the words in his voice always sounded extremely seductive no matter the subject. Kenny had a natural magnetism to him that most men could never have no matter how hard they tried. However, he was nonetheless a bit rough around the edges, and the piercings and scars probably were a red flag when it came to employment. Not his fault and there was nothing wrong with him, the only one to blame was our current society.

“Anyway, today I’m actually covering for a friend of mine,” Kenny continued, “Got in some sort of trouble and couldn’t be here, so he asked me to cover for him and it was the least I could do.”

Using my amassed knowledge of the restaurant’s usual waiters, I went through my mental images of all of their faces to try and guess who his friend could be. There was this other young man, about our age… “Is it the other blond guy? Also with the… You know, over his eye?” I moved my finger in front of my left eye, tracing a scar I remembered the other man having. Were facial scars an integral part of the restaurant’s uniform?

“Butters. That’s him.” Kenny nodded with a smile. “Really nice dude. Reliable. He’s covered my ass a couple of times, vouched for me to get this job too. I gotta check on him later to see if everything’s alright, he never misses a workday.”

The sincerity in Kenny’s voice and the way he beamed about his colleague made my heart feel warmer. There was obviously more to their friendship than just being work buddies, and I was sure this ‘Butters’ guy was very near and dear to him. Maybe next time I went in there for lunch we could strike a conversation or something.

But all good things must come to an end. With a stinging reminder that I still had a phone with zero battery on me and a whole walk to my house ahead, which would set me back on my ‘not think of my life’ objective a lot, I decided I should just cut that umbilical cord and let my new buddy go back to living his own.

“Well, Kenny… I think I really need to go. Don’t wanna take up any more of your time.” I run my hands over my eyes one more time, even though the tears have already all spilled by now and are basically dry. “Thanks for everything. All the best to you.”

I get up from the bench and wave him a goodbye, but feel him grab my wrist and tug at it as I try to leave. When I turn to him again, he’s holding up my picnic basket in his hand. “You forgot your… your thing here.”

He pushes it toward me, but I don’t pick it up, instead just making a dismissing motion with my free hand. “Keep it.” I shook my head. “I’m not hungry anyway. Think of it as a token of appreciation for keeping me company.”

“You’re not hungry? That’s bullshit!” He gets on his feet as well and tries giving me the basket again, more insistently this time. “You were waiting here for hours without eating. You must be starving.”

Kenny wasn’t wrong. During our whole conversation, I could feel the familiar pangs of hunger in my belly, my body’s painful way of begging me for sustenance. However, just thinking of coming back home all alone and having to eat all the food I prepared for me and my boyfriend, knowing full well that it was supposed to be for a special occasion and I had instead been bailed on like it was nothing, was enough to make my eyes burn again with the threat of another crying session. I wouldn’t be able to do it.

To keep myself from crying again, I just let out a downcast sigh. “It’s alright. There’s too much for just me anyway, I don’t want it to go bad. If you keep it you can at least share with your buddies or something.”

“Well, I’m still not taking what’s yours, that’d be fucked up. But…” His eyes darted to the side, looking towards his workplace, then back to the basket his holding and then finally to me again.

“But?”

“Well, as it turns out, I haven’t had my lunch break yet.” His hand releases its grasp on my wrist and he picks up his phone in the pocket of his apron briefly to check the time, putting it right back after he does. “So I think you can still have that picnic.”

It was unbelievable. “You’d… Do that for me?”

“It would be a real mistake to let such a perfectly prepared meal go to waste.” He made a gesture with his hand, towards my picnic basket - a gesture that I could’ve sworn encompassed me as well, theory only made stronger by the mischievous glint I definitely saw in his eyes.

His boldness had me flabbergasted. In any other situation, I’d be nothing short of horrified at the thought of an unknown man inviting himself to my business like that and basically taking over my day - but Kenny had been so kind, helping me with nothing but caring words as I bawled my eyes out, taking time away from his work to make sure an unknown woman was safe and okay while asking for absolutely nothing in return. And he seemed so genuine about it, too - even if he had made some playful passes, I wasn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable around him. He was being extremely nice about all of it and I found myself not ready to go back home and face the music of my terrible life just yet; Maybe Kenny and I really could have a great time together, even if it wasn’t what I originally planned.

“If you really want to…” I give him a gentle smile. “Let’s go, then.”

His eyes light up like a child’s as he hears my acceptance, and he hands me my basket to hold before starting to walk with purpose past me, leaving me confused. “Just stay here for a bit, okay? Don’t go nowhere.” He calls out to me, but as he sees my eyes widening and a little sadness flash behind them - I hadn’t considered that I’d had to wait even more for Kenny now, and my whole experience with today had me a little paranoid -, he’s quick to add: “I swear I’ll be quick, it’s just to warn the other folk! Be back in a flash!”

With a deep breath, I decide to trust him on this one. “Go, go!” I yell with urgency, turning my attention to other parts of my surroundings while he goes do what needs to be done.

Luckily I didn’t have to wait long. After just a couple minutes my ears picked up rushed footsteps coming in my direction - Kenny was now straight up running to meet me. He looked mostly the same, with a few key differences; He had ditched his apron completely and was now wearing a big orange parka with brown details on the hoodie. It looked cheap , old and beat-up, with a bunch of very visible stitching on the seams, like it had ripped off and been sewn back together multiple times before. It also had a couple dried dark stains splattered around it, but I wasn’t about to ask what they were.

“Feeling cold?” I pointed at the new addition to his outfit.

Kenny shook his head and shrugged, the jacket making a very characteristic plastic-like sound with his movement. “Just thought I might need it.”

You’re gonna sweat in that was my immediate thought, but the judgement that followed was to not to waste any time debating his decision, he’s a grown adult and must have his reasons. I adjusted the basket on my forearm as I began to walk, but Kenny quickly moved to my side and pulled it away from me, locking his right arm with my left one and holding the basket with his other hand. I turned to him with a confused look, but he said nothing about it, instead choosing to go on about something entirely unrelated as we made our way to our destination.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The trip to Stark’s Pond was quite short, but filled with fun and laughter all the way nonetheless. Kenny was making progress on his objective of keeping me distracted from my current situation, telling me lots of jokes and sneaking compliments every other sentence like it was second nature for him to say them, which it might as well be. I had no doubt that, for anyone who went past us on the street and didn’t know who we were, the only thing they saw was one extremely happy couple.

I ended up learning lots of stuff about him, too. He opened up like a library book, probably to compensate for the fact that he saw me so vulnerable earlier. I found out that he was an extremely hardworking man, needing money not only for his daily expenses but also to help his little sister pay her university tuition - between that and his treatment of me, a person he barely knew, I had no doubt he truly had a heart of gold.

Besides the daily shifts at the restaurant and some odd jobs here and there whenever he got some free time, he was regularly busy during weekend nights, working as a bartender at a club in Main Street. I knew the place like the back of my hand. It was my old stomping ground - I had spent many a crazy Friday and Saturday night there, and it was also where I had met my current boyfriend, a drunk hookup that became a bigger thing. Ironically enough, once we made it official, he began to get bothered whenever I talked of going there and would give me the silent treatment if I did, so I eventually just abandoned it altogether to keep the peace.

“Well, if you ever feel like coming back,” Kenny said after I commented on the coincidence, “Then keep me company at the bar. Drinks on me. And not that overpriced stuff full of ice we usually make. Real alcohol.”

I told him he was full of shit and waved him off, but made a mental note of what he said… Just in case.

When we arrived at the lake, it was immediately verified that Kenny’s predictions about what the people in town were doing for the sunny day were correct. The park surrounding the pond was peppered with couples in love whispering sweet nothings to each other while watching the clouds, families with children throwing frisbees to their dogs, and groups of teenagers being as loud as they usually are and causing stress to everyone around them. My eyes scanned the space around me, looking for a decent open spot to sit down - meanwhile, Kenny just kept walking like he already knew where he wanted to go, and I absentmindedly followed him.

The realization that we had deviated a little from the main path only comes to me when the sound beneath my feet goes from soft grass to crunching twigs. We were breaching the forest nearby, Kenny bringing me swiftly around the trees like his legs had their positions down pat. I knew for a fact that there was a trail of beaten dirt through this same forest for those who wished to take a stroll in it, but we weren’t following that path. As I shoot an inquisitive glance and a frown towards my new friend, he just smiles, acknowledging my confusion but not missing pace over it.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, I have the perfect spot,” He turned to me, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Unless you wanna go back and we can go sit next to those highschoolers with the speakers blasting 6ix9ine.”

I shook my head quickly and emphatically, immediately getting a pep in my step. “Oh no, I trust you on this one.”

Our little unexpected promenade didn’t last for much longer. Soon the trees started to spread more distant from each other, and we arrived at a small open area, a random glade I had never seen before. The tree canopies bunched together didn’t create their patchy roof over our heads any longer, so the sun was free to shine and warm up my skin. The branches fallen on the ground were few and far between, and the grass was decently smooth and level, perfect for relaxing on it. No animals were to be seen, probably scattered away much earlier after hearing our noises, but I could hear birds singing in the distance and catch one or two flying high above our heads.

“This is a nice place, Kenny!” I exclaimed, turning to him with a smile. “How much roaming around the forest did you do to find it?”

“I guess I’ve known about it for a while. Me and my bros come here all the time to have a smo- Think. We come here to think.” I laughed after hearing Kenny immediately try to correct himself, his sudden interest in a tiny pebble on the grass not going unnoticed either.

“You don’t have to hide it from me, I’m not a prude.” I shrugged. “Think anyone else might get the same idea today?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. And if they do, trust me, they’re gonna leave.”

Deciding once again to not question Kenny’s words or his methods, I opened up the basket in my arm and picked up a yellow and white checkered picnic blanket, opening it up and stretching it over the grass. My unexpected companion immediately started to help me spread the contents of the basket neatly on top of it, making all our food options easily visible.

And there were many of them. I had been quite proud of myself beforehand for managing to prepare a decent amount of stuff for my date, but it dawned on me that if I hadn’t had Kenny by my side it would have taken me a couple of days to get through it all on my own at home. Me and my improbable new friend talked a bunch more while we made quick work of the small club sandwiches, homemade chicken pie, carrot cake, some assorted snacks and drinks from the grocery store, and…

“Chocolate-covered strawberries? Seriously?” Kenny held up the small red box, shaking it slightly. “The big expensive ones too. You really went all out for this.”

“Hey, I forgot I had that! These are the best!” I let out a small squeal of surprise, the memory of having picked up the sweet treat earlier at the candy store having gotten lost in my head over all the stress I went through. I reach my arm towards Kenny, the tiny box too far away for me to get to it naturally. ”Can you pass me one, please?”

After I finished my request, my ears picked up some particularly close chirping, and I quickly turned my head around to look for any sign of a small bird that could be producing it, my hand still extended towards Kenny with my fingers wiggling as I waited for him to give me one of the sweet treats. I heard the characteristic noise of the box being opened, and something being shuffled inside of it, but nothing ever made its way to me. When I turned to see what was taking Kenny so long, I realized why - Kenny was staying put with one of the strawberries held between his teeth with half of it sticking out of his mouth. He couldn’t speak, but his eyes held the message of what he wanted me to do next.

I had to admit, I considered it for a brief moment. It was a simple act of play, but so sensual as well - I hadn’t been able to do this kind of silly stuff in quite a while, and it ignited something in me that had been dormant for a while now. I felt wanted. However, my moral compass was still blaring its sirens loudly in my brain, and I didn’t want to lead my whole life astray just because one guy I just met was giving me all the attention I needed. “Oh, come on, give me that!” I feigned annoyance and reached over to try and pick the fruit out from between Kenny’s teeth, but he quickly just gets all of it inside of his mouth and starts chewing.

“Had to at least try.” He chuckled, with his mouth still full, before picking out another strawberry from the box and handing it over to me properly this time.

“Do you try this with every girl who offers you food?” I inquired with irony in my voice as I plucked the small leaves off the top of the fruit, “The whole loverboy act?”

He swallows before answering this time. “Only when they’re as cute as you are,” He replied, “Which means I’ve never done it before in my entire life.”

If my eyes could roll back further into my head, they’d dislodge from it. “Like I said, Kenny, you’re full of shit,” I retorted right before popping the whole strawberry in my mouth, closing my eyes to savor its taste. My next words came slightly messed up, as I spoke with my mouth full, covering it with my hand. “I bet the girls are all over you with that.”

While I chewed on the fruit, Kenny stayed totally silent, his eyes scanning the plaid pattern of the picnic blanket under him. “What if it’s not an act, though?”

The sudden seriousness in his tone made my eyes shoot open immediately, and I flinched a bit, a frown creasing my forehead.

Kenny started scooting closer and wrapped his arms around me, suddenly pulling my body in one quick motion so I was seated between his legs while he hugged me tightly from behind. I tensed up completely in his arms, and didn’t dare make a movement even when his heavy breathing on my shoulder made the fine hairs behind my neck stand up. “Ken… I…” My uttering was almost non-audible, voice still strained from the surprise.

He grinned against the crook of my neck. “Ken, huh?” Kenny’s murmurs came out slightly muffled by my skin, “I can be that today, if you need me to. Just say it.”

“What are we doing, Ken?” My voice slowly started coming back to me, and I looked down towards the grass, seeing Kenny’s leg stretched right next to mine, barely touching it. He was too close now for me to be able to shake off his advances or pretend they’re just jokes; There was nowhere to go but right through them. “I shouldn’t be here…”

“What you *should *be is with someone who values you.” He cut my sentence with a firm and decided tone in his voice, getting a tighter hold of me between his arms. “A real man, not that sucker you’re dating right now. Someone who treats you right.”

I wanted to argue with him, ask him who he thinks he is to assume things about a woman he barely knows - but I knew his words to be true, there’s no point I can try to make that will make them not so.

Seeing that I was both not moving from my position and not disputing his claims, my guess is that he had newfound energy to get his point across, because he continued talking. “Do you know what I would do if I had a woman like you by my side, huh?” Kenny rhetorically asked, his voice almost a growl. “I’d wake up at the crack of dawn every day to provide for her. I’d make love to her every single night. I’d be the one planning dates and showing her a good time. I wouldn’t leave you alone to cry in the middle of the fucking street, I’d be too busy making you happy instead.”

“You said ‘you’ right now.” I immediately pointed out, even though it’s unnecessary. “Not ‘her’. ‘You.’”

“And I fucking meant it.”

With that, one of his arms loosened its wrap on my body and reached far for the tiny box containing the chocolate strawberries, and he picked one up in his hands, bringing it close to our faces. This one had a different design from all the others - instead of the usual white chocolate lines over the milk chocolate covering, this one’s got small red hearts as well. It’s more detailed, a tiny touch of romance to what is usually a very sexy treat in nature. Kenny cleaned the leaves out of the strawberry and took a bite out of it, holding the other half close to my lips. My nostrils immediately took in the sweet scent of the fruit, but I didn't open my mouth just yet.

“Look, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t wanna do. But if you let me, I’ll make you feel real good. Promise.” He murmured, digging his left hand’s fingers on the soft side of my belly one last time. The ball was fully on my court, but I could still feel the hints of his desperation for my body as he waited patiently for my answer.

Slowly and nervously, I parted my lips and let Kenny put the small piece of strawberry inside of my mouth himself, hearing him sigh in relief behind me as he did so. Once he withdrew his fingers from my mouth, that’s when I finally bit down on the small treat. This one isn’t as sweet as the others; It might not have been as perfectly ripe, so it had a tiny tinge of sourness mixed up in the fruit’s flavor. The milk chocolate around the fruit almost masked it up completely, though - the whole combination tasted absolutely heavenly, not just for the fruit, but also for the implications of it. I was in deep now.

Kenny almost doesn’t wait for me to swallow what’s in my mouth before turning my face to his and kissing me fiercely, his left hand getting tangled with the hair in the back of my head. I kissed him back with the same amount of fervor almost immediately, and all of my worries over this whole situation dissipated from my head like dry ice; Fuck what needed to happen for us to get to this point, fuck my problems and how I’d sort them out, fuck morals and especially fuck the outside world. This tiny little section of the forest was our own personal bubble, and I’d live in it for as long as I could.

When the tip of Kenny’s tongue brushed my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to grant it access, I realized I hadn’t accounted for one more piercing of his. The tiny little ball sitting in the middle of his tongue didn’t feel as cold as I thought it would, so it was more the sudden change in hardness and texture that threw me off a bit. I kept my cool, though, as I put my hands on both sides of his face and pulled it even closer to mine. I decided to try something out and touched his piercing with the tip of my tongue, flicking it ever so gently - I immediately felt Kenny’s hard-on twitch inside of his pants against my lower back.

As our tongues slid around each other and explored our connected mouths, his right hand slowly made its way up my thigh, sneaking under my clothes, ghosting over my bare pussy. I had been having so much fun with this man today, I’d completely forgotten I wasn’t wearing anything under my dress. Just this slight contact was enough to make my breath hitch and Kenny broke the kiss, his hand freezing in place.

When I opened my eyes, he was unapologetically staring at me. Mouth agape in surprise, pupils wide, it almost seemed like the whole galaxy was behind his eyes with the way they shined. Kenny looked like what someone would if you told them all of their dreams had come true at the same time.

“What a lucky son of a bitch.” He uttered almost non-audibly, the corners of his mouth slowly curving upwards into a delighted smile. For a moment, I wondered if he was talking about my actual partner or about himself. I wasn’t able to ask, though - Kenny’s left hand immediately grabbed my chin and tilted my head up, holding my face, ear and neck in perfect positions for him to start kissing, sucking and biting them voraciously.

The middle and index fingers on his right hand went back to gliding up and down my folds, picking up the building slick from my entrance and spreading it all over before settling over my clit and drawing quick tight circles over the bundle of nerves. Before I knew it, I was putty in Kenny’s hands, squirming and arching my back as much as I could in his grasp, my moans filling his ears and working as fuel for his ministrations.

Eliciting a whine of annoyance from my mouth when he did, Kenny took his hands away from me, not without planting one last wet kiss to my jaw. While I cooled down, steadying my breath, he brought his fingers over to his mouth, sucking on them and licking slowly. Then he sighed. “Fuck, no. This won’t do at all. Need you on my face, baby.”

I didn’t even have time to register what he said or the implications of it before he let go of my body and started moving behind me, stretching his legs under mine. When I quickly turned back to see what was up, he was already fully laid down with his head on the blanket, hands pulling at my thighs like he wanted to bring me closer to his upper body.

“Wait, what?” I tried to get up at my feet, but his pulling made me lose balance and I quickly sat back down as gently as I could, my knees now at both sides of his abdomen.

“Come on, over here,” he called, still trying to drag me over his body towards his face, “Or do you want me to beg? Because I’ll do it.”

Somehow the idea of Kenny begging for something like this made a blush spread quickly across my cheeks and ears, which probably burned bright like a beacon. How to explain to this man that I had never done what he wanted me to do?

My question was answered almost immediately - like everything else in my interactions with Kenny, I didn’t have to tell him, he knew straight away. “That fucking asshole,” he let out a disgruntled huff, rubbing his face with his hand as if completely stressed.

“Excuse me?”

“Your damn boyfriend,” he immediately responded, huffing again as if the mere thought of that man made him angry, “Can’t even eat out his own fucking lady properly.”

“I never said…” Once again with all my damn defenses, but this time it was aimed at myself. I’d feel awkward admitting to Kenny that even though I was fairly experienced, what with the long-term relationship, I still knew very little about my own pleasure.

“It’s written all over your face, baby,” he said, gesturing towards my beet red features, his expression softening. “But it’s alright. You take a seat and enjoy the show. This is my shift.”

He then started playing with the hem of my dress, twirling it between his fingers, waiting for my next move. Slowly, but surely, I started scooting on my knees towards his face, turning my face away as I got closer to his mouth. As I finally got to it, my bare cunt hovering above his face, his arms wrapped around my thighs and started pulling me down as if he wanted me to fall on him - was this guy trying to have his neck broken? To stop him from actually succeeding in this endeavor, I lowered myself steadily to where my folds were touching his lips.

And he got to work right away. His tongue started by licking tentative stripes through my slit, capturing on it my already plentiful arousal - I could hear Kenny’s satisfied groans as he tasted it, but the front of my dress falling over his head shielded me from any facial expressions.

His fingers splayed on the soft flesh of my thigh tightened their grasp as he started licking and sucking faster, and I leaned forward, putting my hands on the floor near Kenny’s head for stability.

“Yes, Ken! More! Aaah!” I called out once his tongue picked up speed, tugging fistfuls of my own picnic blanket as my fingers tried to dig into the floor. Seemingly content with my feedback, he mumbled something against my pussy, as if trying to speak, but the only thing that was definitely caught by my senses were the vibrations against my folds, all the way to my core.

Then and there I realized that Kenny might be an actual genius. Whenever his tongue would lap at my clit, or make its way to fuck my cunt again, I’d feel the tiny piercing on top of it - and it increased my pleasure tenfold. The extra stimulation of the hard metal ball with his soft tongue had me seeing blank before my eyes with every quick successive movement, and he knew it too, because I could hear him groan as he’d purposefully lap and flick and curl with his tongue mercilessly.

Before I could catch myself, I was rocking my hips against Kenny’s face, trying to get more contact, more of anything he could give me. His jaw and tongue followed my movements perfectly, like he was well prepared for this exact reaction. My thighs were quivering from the pleasure he was giving me as well as the strain of the position while I tried not to completely fall on his mouth. It didn’t take much long for me to figuratively do exactly that, though; With a loud cry that probably scared every single animal in a radius across the forest, I came on his mouth, my hands grabbing a fistful of the grass under them while I rocked shamelessly against Kenny’s face, riding it through my release. I could feel his nails digging at the flesh of my ass, but he never made a movement to pull me away, eating me up like a man starved.

Once I started coming to my senses again and brought back enough strength to my thighs, I lifted myself up away from Kenny’s face slowly and hiked up the front of my dress, looking down to be able to see his face at that moment. He looked back at me through half-lidded eyes, his cheeks and nose sporting a reddish flush that definitely didn’t exist before. My juices are splattered all around his mouth and he has this massive stupid grin on his face, showing almost all of his teeth.

“Gorgeous.” He uttered once he saw me staring back, his voice raspy and lazy. I merely chuckled, going backwards on my knees until I was close to his hips, where I finally settled, lowering myself back down to sit right on top of the generous tent formed in his pants.

Kenny lifted his upper body up on his elbows once he felt me positioned against his still clothed cock. “Oh, aren’t we eager now?” He teased, patting the ground next to him. “Lay down here, baby. Let me sort that out for you.”

I shook my head with a smirk. “I don’t think I will. This is my shift now.”

His eyes widened, astounded, as I put both my hands on his chest and pushed him back down with full force of my arms. His head was still lifted as his back hit the ground, and I made sure to maintain our gazes connected as my hands drifted to his pants, unbuckling and unzipping them with dexterity.

“Are you sure?” Kenny inquired, his eyebrows arched, but I was positive I could see the faintest hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. “I mean, I’m all for it, but aren’t you tired?”

“I’m fine. I wanna do this.” I tug down his pants and boxers just enough to free his cock, rolling my hips a couple times over it just to see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Besides, it’s good thigh workout.”

“Not that you need it.” Kenny’s hands ran over my legs, giving my thighs a light squeeze. Once he saw my hand going towards his dick again as I prepared to take him inside of me, however, his grip released and his arm reached over somewhere. “Wait, wait, wait! Time out!”

I glanced confused to the side and saw Kenny dragging closer to us his parka, which had long been discarded to one end of our blanket, and he stuffed his hand inside of one of the pockets. “What is it?” I tried to ask, but he just rummaged around in it for two or three seconds more before bringing out a blue foil package.

So that’s why he needed to bring the damn jacket. “Someone’s well prepared.”

“I mean… Better be safe than sorry.” Kenny replied, handing me the tiny square. “Come on, I was about to hang out alone with the hottest chick in town. A guy can dream, you know?”

I twisted the wrapping between my fingers, analyzing the information in it. Average size - though that tells me next to nothing about what I’m really working with - and of the ‘Ultra Thin’ variety. This fucking guy. “You’re clean, right?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely!” He answered at record speed, nodding for extra emphasis. “But I mean… It’s for your best, right?”

I placed the condom right back on top of his parka. “I’m on the pill,” I reassured him as his face sported a totally confused expression, “So, if you’ll let me… I want to feel you, Ken. Really feel you.”

He swallowed hard again, his dick twitching with more precum leaking out of the tip as he took in my words. Still pleasantly surprised by my decision, he slowly nodded, closing his eyes and seemingly letting himself relax - though I could almost see all the little cogs in his brain moving wildly with all the lewd thoughts he had of me, and it made for great fuel to my ego.

My hand wrapped around Kenny’s cock again and I lifted my hips up to get in perfect position on top of it, moving the tip around my entrance teasingly, spreading his pre over it and getting it mixed with my own slick. When I finally slipped about an inch fully inside and my cunt gave one small initial clench around it, Kenny’s eyes shot open and he grabbed my thighs again, like he was fighting the temptation of pulling me down immediately.

“Tight… So fucking tight…” He grunted between gritted teeth, his dick twitching once again. His words like fire on my lower abdomen, I steadied myself over him before slamming my hips fully down and burying him to the hilt in one motion, both of us letting out loud groans as he stretched my walls with little preparation. Kenny’s nails dug at my thighs with this, leaving the tiniest crescent marks on them.

After a few seconds to adjust to his size - the longest seconds of my life - I lifted myself up agonizingly slowly before sinking back down again, trying to keep a slow and teasing pace, but failing miserably as I quickly began picking up speed and riding him in earnest. His enthusiasm matched mine, his hands on my thighs moving to my ass, feeling every jiggle and bounce of my flesh.

And that wasn’t the only thing of mine that bounced that he seemed interested in. Now that Kenny’s eyes were open, he basically zeroed in on the movement of my breasts, pupils glazed over with hunger. Determined to give him the show he was so interested in, I quickly removed the straps of my sundress from my shoulders and pulled down the neckline, so that my tits were on full display for him. That same stupid grin he had exhibited earlier showed up yet again.

“Mmmm… Like what you see, Ken?” I teased, brushing a wild strand of hair off his face with one of my hands, my soft touch lingering.

“Fuck yes,” one of his hands left my behind to knead at one of the perky mounds, “You’re perfect. Your boyfriend is a fucking-” I silenced him immediately with a particularly hard crash of my cunt on him. I needed not hear further from his mouth except for grunts or praise.

With every roll of my hips and slap of my skin against his, I wondered more why I took so long to surrender to him. My decision to let him hit it raw might have been irrational, but I didn’t regret it one single bit; He filled me up so perfectly, his length like the perfect massager to my inner walls, bringing me bliss like I hadn’t felt in quite a while. My hands grabbed and tugged at his shirt while I moaned with the full force of my throat, throwing my head back as his cock hit that sweet spot inside of me with every movement I made.

“Ken… Ken… Aaaah…” His nickname left my mouth like the chorus of an earworm song, ever present, the only thing I could think about in life. And I continued to say it over and over, making sure that it would permanently stick to his brain as well, my voice his only true companion even with the deafening music of the club he worked nights at.

“Hell yeah, baby,” he groaned between gritted teeth, “Let it out… You keep saying my name like that and I’m gonna lose my fucking mind here…”

Even if he said it like something that was yet to happen, lowering my gaze to Kenny’s face told me that he was already absolutely going* through it*. His eyes were tight shut and his eyebrows were furrowed, almost in a manner of deep concentration; He was trying his hardest to not finish before I did, and it was awkwardly endearing.

The pace of my hips slowed briefly as I lowered my upper body down towards Kenny’s chest, keeping balance by holding myself on my elbows bent to the sides of him. Once he’s not as overwhelmed with pleasure and felt the tip of my nose ghosting against his, he dared open his eyes to meet my caring gaze and soft smile. He immediately wrapped his arms around me and lifted his head from the ground just barely, his lips chasing mine, yearning for their velvety touch - which I granted them gladly, taking him in a luscious kiss as my hips slowly regained their previous momentum.

“Beautiful… Like a damn angel… Heaven’s got nothing on you…” Kenny whispered against my lips as soon as they parted from his, and those words on his voice made my heart skip a beat yet again - it was like he knew all the buttons to press to make me melt for him, even though we barely knew each other - but I knew that after all this I was definitely keeping him in my personal circle.

Our slight experiment with real affection didn’t last long, though. In my new position, my clit was making contact with Kenny’s skin and being stimulated with every movement I made; Soon I had to take my face away from Kenny’s to bury it in the crook of his neck as I moaned, feeling my orgasm fast approaching again from the combined effort on my pleasure spots.

My thrusts became shorter and even quicker as I felt my muscles tightening again, the upcoming climax threatening to consume me, with my thighs also trembling and burning from the straining ‘workout’. I continued grinding on him with wild abandon until I came on his dick with a shuddering cry of his nickname; the sun in the sky feeling almost cold in comparison to the electric warmth that coursed through every inch of my body, sparks of pleasure jolting through my muscles, making my cunt contract wildly around that man’s dick as if trying to make him a whole part of me.

As a tough roar reached my ears, the motion of my hips was abruptly interrupted by Kenny’s hands grabbing the sides of them and holding me firmly in place; He replaced my movement with his, bucking upwards in an intense burst of stamina as he now allowed himself to chase his own release. Given how long he had been holding back and how quick and powerful each of his thrusts were now, it doesn’t take long to catch up to him - soon his hips jerk up one last time and stay firmly in place, and I feel his cock twitching as it fills me up with jet after jet of his warm seed.

He stayed put like this for a while, with his hips raised to meet mine, the sounds of our heavy breathing the only thing audible in the little clearing at that moment. When I decided to make the first move and get up, Kenny’s softening dick sliding off of me and allowing his cum to start dripping down my legs, his arms fell to his side and he stretched his legs, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

“Someone’s happy,” I commented with a smile as I laid down beside him, watching the sunlight hit his golden hair just right.

“Ya think?” Kenny responded with a rough chuckle, immediately wrapping his arm around me and pulling me closer so I’m resting on his chest with my legs draped over his. “Damn, baby… I’m never letting you go now.”

Coming down from my high, I expected all of the usual occurrences associated with descriptions of cheating you see in fiction to wash over me: Regret, sadness, anger at myself - or, if I was a narcissist, at this man for indulging me -, despair, maybe I’d even start running some excuses in my head. Absolutely none of these thoughts came to pass. Instead, as I laid on top of the picnic blanket soaking in the warm sun with a peaceful Kenny lazily petting my hair, I felt a sense of absolute bliss; After so many things that seemed wrong in my life for the past two years, I was finally having a moment where I’m certain something is right, and the definitive decision was made in my heart to never let it be otherwise again.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

We unfortunately didn’t make it back to the restaurant before Kenny’s lunch break ended, which meant he’d probably get a scolding from his manager for being unpunctual. When I apologized for making him late, though, he didn’t seem the slightest bit worried about it - his boyish grin stayed on his face the whole time, and he was actually acting more mad about having to leave me and go back to waiting tables.

He did bring me inside of the restaurant through a door in the back and led me to the employee’s break room, where one of his colleagues had a charger I could borrow. I used it just enough to be able to call an Uber and have battery for the ride home, not wanting to overstay my welcome when Kenny was already on thin ice because of our escapade. Before I left, though, he still made sure to put his number on my contact list, under the pretext of ‘me sending him an album I mentioned earlier that he might like’; However, as he winked and blew me a kiss before being called over by one of the cooks to pick up an order that was ready, I knew music would not be one of our top 10 subjects in conversation.

Only two text messages were sent from my phone that night. One very long paragraph to my now ex-boyfriend, listing all the problems I had with our relationship with several examples and telling him to disappear from my life before blocking his number - not wanting to give him even the slightest chance to manipulate me - and deleting it for good. Another much shorter message, to a contact just named ‘🧡’, containing detailed information about my favorite drink in the whole world and telling him to have it ready by 10pm.

Dividers by

@cafekitsune

#south park #south park fanfiction #south park smut #south park x reader #sp x reader #south park fanfic #south park x y/n #kenny mccormick #sp kenny #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick x you #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny x y/n #kenny x you #ao3 #x reader

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torturedtypewritersdept · 2 months ago

Text

of canyons + wildflowers - pt. one

✯ pairing:

ex!cowboy!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

it's time to head home to Montana

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, mentions of Montana, nostalgia, heartbreak, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, mentions of gunshot wounds (not rafe), etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

This isn’t your scene – well, it was at one point in time. But, it’s not now. Not anymore. The barstool you are perched on is rickety. It compliments the aged wood floors beneath you well. You’re shocked really, because you were sure all traces of life outside of the city were left behind when you packed up your car and fled from Montana. It’s been so long since you’ve been in a situation like this, remnants of home littered around you. It feels foreign, like a life you were meant to live but didn’t. You were almost positive that New York didn’t have dive bars, yet, here you were; in one. You cursed Danica, thinking about how she practically threatened to kill you if you wasted one more minute on your hometown sweetheart, whose name you’d never reveal to her. This version of you is what she knew; an act on your part that was purposeful in an attempt to erase the girl you used to be – the girl that only he could know. She’d never know the girl that he knew or the pain that was left in his wake. You’re not sure why she’d been so obsessed with finding you someone to have casual sex with. But she was. So, she did what she does best – she held her metaphorical loaded gun to your head and forced you onto Tinder; somewhere you swore you’d never be because it was fucking beneath you. You take a sip of the apple flavored beer in your hands, waiting for prince charming, hoping he wasn’t going to be a raging cunt. You’d had enough of that, you didn’t need more exposure to it. You almost don’t hear his voice over the music, but when you do, you turn quickly away with wide eyes and furrowed brows. Tall, dark, and handsome – that’s what he is, drenched in work clothes and a cowboy hat. For someone who didn’t know you pre-city, pre-business meetings, pre-college, she sure pulled this nightmarish trick out of her magician’s hat. For the normal broad, it’s a dream come true. But, for you, it’s quite frankly the worst scenario you could’ve possibly dreamed up. Because Patrick from New York isn’t your Rafe from Montana. He never could be because no one can mimic that kind of charisma – the kind that emulates blowing wind that knocks you off your horse, yet, somehow keeps you coming back for more. Nope, no one could ever be him and even if they could, you’re not interested. But, Patrick is easy on the eyes, that doesn’t get past you. Nor, does his sickly sweet southern drawl or attempt to have one. You can’t tell if he’s a real cowboy or not, or if he’s trying to emulate being a big fish in the small pond of New York – pretending to be something he’s not in an attempt to create an edge for himself. That’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of when he grabs your elbow and speaks again.

“Well, howdy darlin’ – are you with me?”

He questions, wondering if you are the girl that he’d been speaking with on the other end of the phone. That girl, she seemed to be pretty gungho to meet him, but as he approaches you and drinks you in, he’s not so sure that you’re her.

“I’m y/n.”

You smile warmly, though a bit dejected.

“Patrick.”

He replied, his smile assaulting you like molasses on your tongue. It’s not fair how smooth he feels against your skin when he speaks. It should create butterflies in your tummy, but it doesn’t. Instead, all you can think of is blue eyes and the purple hues of a Montana skyline and a horse named bronco. It makes you miss home, miss him; to have a stranger this eerily similar to him in your vicinity. You know Patrick can’t win the great war between your heart and Rafe mother fucking Cameron – no one can. Many have tried and no one has ever succeeded.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think I need to go home.”

You said, kindly.

“Am I that bad looking?”

He replies with a smirk and a deep chuckle. It’s something Rafe would say, you notate on the invisible pen pad in your brain. You almost smile, but you don’t, your face instead sporting a furrowed brow at his insinuation that you need to find him cheeky.

“Patrick – it’s Patrick right?”

You ask and his smile lines seem to retreat back toward his lips, the fullness of his cheeks that are adorned with a five o’clock shadow is dissipating before your very eyes. He nods at your question after pondering on it for a moment.

“I’ll spare you the ‘it’s not you, it’s me' speech. It’ll save us both some embarrassment, just know that it really is me and no matter how inviting and warm you seem, nothing will change that.”

He smiles at you again. This time it’s confusing – the way he wears his smirk almost earnestly.

“So, what’s his name then?”

He asks, tucking a stray hair away from your eyes that were now cast down toward the beer in your hands. Your eyes almost pop out of your skull as your gaze shot up toward his chiseled jaw. Shock littered your features as this total stranger saw right through you.

“What?”

You asked, mouth agape.

“You heard me darlin’ – what’s his name?”

He asks again and you chuckle dryly.

“Rafe. Rafe Cameron.”

You whisper in what you think is a voice only loud enough for you to hear. But, you’re wrong. Patrick hears you and he nods, his hand coming to the small of your back.

“I hope it works out with Rafe, sweet girl. But, he’s a loser for letting you go.”

You chuckle at his remark, brought out of the conversation you’re in as your phone rings – Dad littering your screen.

“Excuse me, I’ve gotta take this. It’s my dad.”

You mutter, pushing through the crowd and answering the phone as you exit the doors, the crisp autumn new york air hitting your skin.

“Hey, daddy. What’s up?”

You ask, as the ringing stops.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s your night?”

He asks with a quiver in his voice.

“You saved me from a bad date, actually. What’s wrong? You sound funny.”

You ask, unsure why you’re so unnerved by his tone.

“listen, baby — you need to come home.”

He states and immediately you know that something has gone morbidly wrong. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you wait for the blow of his news.

“What is it? Is it mom? O-or the horses? Does the ranch need money? What’s wrong daddy?”

You can’t see it, but he’s smiling tearfully at your incessant questioning. You – always the worrier; his sweet girl. It guts him to tell you the truth.

“It’s your brother, baby. He was shot. It’s touch and go right now. We don’t know if he’s going to make it. Just – just come home, baby.”

You're gutted by the revelation. Yet, somehow you knew, like only a twin can. You weren’t aware of the home you were referring to when you had previously spoken to Patrick about leaving. But, now you are.

Montana is no longer in the rearview mirror. That’s the last thing you think about before you frantically hail a cab to the airport with no thoughts of retrieving any of your belongings from your apartment. Getting to your brother, the only thing driving you.

TAGLIST:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron prompt #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafecore #cowboy!rafe #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe <3 #rafe cameron imagine #cowboy!rafe cameron

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serxinns · 11 months ago

Text

Yandere class 1a x mocha bunny reader: Bunnynapped

Yandere class 1a x mocha bunny reader

It was a nice day for a picnic so you and koda decided to head off on your own picnic basket in hand and blanket whenever you needed a break from all the overwhelming attention from your classmates you always headed to this secret spot to clear your mind and to play and chat with the small animals

You placed your blanket while Kota placed the basket down taking a breath it smelled like freedom you endured the beautiful and quiet nature there was a lake nearby the pond just in case you felt like swimming everything was perfect quiet and peaceful

"I'm gonna go get something to drink and berries at the lake koda!" he nodded "B-be careful tho there are big predator birds that will mistake you as a snack," he said while taking out the food and his favorite book read you nodded and ran off into the "Safe" forest, you made it to the lake glazing how the fish gracefully swam into their destination and the frogs leaping catching the bugs you grabbed your basket and went deeper into the woods until you saw a blueberry and a shiny red raspberry bush you grabbed your basket and started picking them unaware that someone was watching you

A teen with yellow eyes with messy space buns was observing you watching every move that you made like a hawk waiting for it's prey she watched you were were picking berries off the bush and putting them in the basket while also eating some as well "that bunny look so cute! Oh she's gonna be my little pet when I catch her" the blonde carefully sneak up behind herb making sure she wouldn't make a noise when her hands was just hovering away from you She quickly snatched you up and threw you in the sag

You struggled and struggled to try to turn into your human form but it was no use you squealed in discomfort and fear while the girl tried cooing and hushing you like you were some baby "Shhh ahh it's ok! I won't hurt you at all just gonna take you to your new home" you panicked even more when she said that you tried struggling and struggling but it was no use you were trapped hearing crunching of the leaves and dirt the girl happily hummed satisfy with her catch

Kota was getting worried about your long absence you shouldn't be gone for that long he looked around hoping you would come back until a panicked bird flew quickly on Kota's finger chirping in distress and panic kota gently comforted the poor animal by stroking its feathers and body the bird was calmly panicked but calmed down "Now tell me what's the problem" he said quietly and gently the bird chirped a few times and kota was shocked

You were taken...By toga Himiko

He needed to get the others even his teachers

"im back!" toga happily skipped along inside the Bar twice happily waving to her and Dabi completely ignored her focusing on the drink Kurogiri gave him but Shiggy was furious "Toga how many times have I told you about going out, especially in the day WITHOUT A DISGUISE" he said while scratching his neck toga scoffed and paid attention to the bag and giggled "I'll be fine nobody saw me plus I got myself a goodie!" she said shaking a bag a little and out came a squeak everyone's attention turned to her now curious of what she brought

"Woah toga did you bring a living snack nice!" Twice said excitingly reaching to hold the bag but Toga blocked his hand "No it's a.." she reached into the bag and pulled out the helpless creature (aka you) "A bunny!!" she squealed petting the distressed bunny's soft fur until she heard a poof and you turned into your human version now everyone was shocked "I'm not a bunny you phyco im a human! Just with a bunny quirk" you angry said not pleased with the "Suprised adoption"

Everyone was speechless for a second still in shocked while Toga's eyes sparkled brightly "EEEEEEK IT A BUNNY HERO" she tackled you with a hug squeezing you very tight you could barely breath nuzzling her head on your ears

"Well look what we have here..." Shigaraki darkly chuckled slowly walking up to you and circling you while observing the little bunny trapped in the cage but Toga shielded you "No shiggy I want them as a pet!" "A PET?!?" you and everyone else yelled in shock "I don't wanna be some villain pet!" toga completely ignored you kept going "Please take good care I'll feed them wash they'll put them in pretty outfits I promise I won't even get as much blood promise!" she pleaded with shigaraki and Dabi looked at him and chuckled "I mean I pet wouldn't be bad plus once we break them they'll be kinda useful," Dabi said with an evil sly smile shigaraki thought for a second and decided his answer "Fine we'll keep them BUT if they pissed me off and start to cause trouble im killing the rodent" you gulped nervously while toga and twice cheered "I just wanted a nice picnic..."

"Guys! Guys!" Koda ran into the common room trying to catch his breath everyone stared at him in shock and looked to see where their bunny darling was "Kota kun! What happened where's y/n?!" Mina said her voice filled with worry "They were taken by Toga she took them to their lair!" Everyone was in a panic that their precious darling was stolen away from them they were beginning to plan to save them until Aizawa stepped in "Nobodys going nowhere im going to inform the pro heroes it's dangerous to do that anyway" the class tried protesting but Aizawa quickly shut that down immediately and all told them to go to bed upset they were they had to go to bed sad and enraged that they couldn't do anything

During your stay with the LOV wasn't even that bed honestly except for the constant cuddling and her dressing you up into frilly and girly dresses and outfits and putting so many bows and accessories on your hair but you tolerated it you made sure not to say any snarky remarks due to shigarakis warning toga would twirl you around and dance with you while twice joined in doing embarrassing dancing while toga laugh but gave you 2nd hand embarrassment dabi was annoyed like an older brother always picking on their little siblings enough to make them tell their parents teasing you about how your not getting out of here and picking on you pulling on your ears until you squeaked until toga came and comfort you while being scolded by her

Kurogiri Was kind to you whenever you had enough he would always tell Toga, twice and Dabi to back off a bit and make sure you were ok he would give you healthy and actual edible food then just fed carrots and grass all day so he was the most decent out of all of them in your opinion next was Magne was another decent one but was just like toga she was adored about your features always petting your hair she wouldn't try and force you into your bunny form like a toga but whenever she gets the chance she always pets and brushes your fur which you enjoyed it a bit

But all things had to come to an end when an explosion was heard and a large hole filled with pro-heroes police, Aizawa was here as well kurogiri quickly formed a portal for them to go inside everyone went but you struggled out of the togas strong gripped, and fall on the ground she called your name until the portal was closed good riddance, you were questioned by a bunch of police and pros and we're checked to see if you had any injuries or tracking devices they put it felt like hours until they finally let you go

When you got back from the dorms everyone crowded around you cheering for your return There were a bunch of hugs from everyone even Shoto formed a small smile but Bakugo lectured and yelled at you about being reckless and how you should be careful you were gifted with a lot of stuff and the girls invited you to a sleepover you wanted to complain but you were just glad you weren't with the LOV

#yandere bnha #yandere ua #tw yandere #yandere x reader #tw obsessive behavior #yandere class 1a #yandere mha #platonic yandere #tw stalking

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taylor-on-your-dash · 5 months ago

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WRITING OF FOLKLORE & EVERMORE TIMELINE

“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.”

December 18, 2019: Taylor records my tears ricochet. On folklore: long pond sessions, she confirms that my tears ricochet was the first song written for TS8 and she knew right away that it would take the 5th spot on the track list.

“I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There's no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote "My Tears Ricochet" and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both. It’s definitely one of the saddest songs on the album. Picking a ‘Track Five’ is sort of a pressurized decision but I knew from day one this was probably going to be it. It’s a song about karma, about greed, about how somebody could be your best friend and your companion and your most trusted person in your life and then they could go and become your worst enemy who knows how to hurt you because they were once your most trusted person. Writing this song, it kind of occurred to me that in all of the superhero stories the hero’s greatest nemesis is the villain that used to be his best friend. When you think about that, you think about how there’s this beautiful moment in the beginning of a friendship where these people have no idea that one day, they’ll hate each other and try to take each other out. I mean, that’s really sad and terrible.”

March 5-12, 2020: Band rehearsals for Lover Fest. The band rehearsed 32 songs and Taylor sings on a few.

March 11, 2020: Taylor lands in LA. She'll stay there for the whole lockdown until May 22nd.

March 19, 2020: The state of California issue a stay-at-home order. The lockdown starts. During the Eras Tour, Taylor says that she started writing songs with Jack soon after. It's possible that illicit affairs and august were two of the first songs, as Taylor confirmed that august was the first song she wrote for the Love Triangle. This first version of august doesn't include the bridge.

[Taylor about illicit affairs] This was the first album that I’ve ever let go of that need to be 100 percent autobiographical because I think I needed to do that. I felt like fans needed to hear a 'stripped from the headlines' account of my life and it actually ended up being a bit confining. Because there’s so much more to writing songs than just what you’re feeling and your singular storyline. And I think this was spurred on by the fact that I was watching movies every day, I was reading books every day, I was thinking about other people every day. I was kind of outside my own, personal stuff. I think that’s been my favorite thing about this album: that it’s allowed to exist on its own merit without it just being, ‘Oh, people are listening to this because it tells them something that they could read in a tabloid’. It feels like a completely different experience.

[Taylor about august] In my head, I’ve been calling the girl from ‘august’ either Augusta or Augustine. What happened in my head was: ‘cardigan’ is Betty’s perspective from 20 or 30 years later, looking back on this love that was this tumultuous thing. I think Betty and James ended up together. So in my head, she ends up with him but he really put her through it. ‘august’ was obviously about the girl that James had this summer with. She seems like she’s a bad girl, but really she’s not. She’s a really sensitive person who fell for him and she was trying to seem cool and like she didn’t care because that’s what girls have to do. And she was trying to let him think that she didn’t care, but she did and she thought they had something very real. And then he goes back to Betty. So the idea that there is some bad, villain girl in any type of situation who ‘takes your man’ is a total myth because that’s not usually the case at all. Everybody has feelings and wants to be seen and loved. And Augustine…that’s all she wanted.

[Taylor] I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective. It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is—Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

Taylor had previously written down the phrase ‘Meet me behind the mall’ in her phone years ago, wanting to write it into a song.

April 17, 2020: Lover Fest is cancelled. Taylor writes mirrorball and this is me trying shortly after.

MIRRORBALL

On folklore there are a lot of songs that reference each other or have lyrical parallels and one of the ones that I like is the entire song 'this is me trying' then being referenced again in ‘mirrorball,’ which is, ‘I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try’. Sometimes when I’m writing to an instrumental track I’ll push ‘Play’ and I’ll immediately see a scene set and this was one of those cases. I just saw a lonely disco ball, twinkly lights, neon signs, people drinking beer by the bar, a couple of stragglers on the dance floor. Sort of a sad, moonlit, lonely experience in the middle of a town you’ve never been. I was just thinking that we have mirrorballs in the middle of a dance floor because they reflect light, they are broken a million times and that’s what makes them so shiny. We have people like that in society, too. They hang there and every time they break it entertains us. And when you shine a light on them it’s this glittering, fantastic thing. But then, a lot of the time when the spotlight isn’t on them they’re just still there, up on that pedestal but no one is watching them. It was a metaphor for celebrity but it’s also a metaphor for so many people. Everybody has to feel like they have to be ‘on’ for certain people. You have to be different versions of yourself for different people. Different versions at work, different versions around friends. Different versions of yourself around different friends. A different version of yourself around family. Everybody feels that they have to be in some ways duplicitous and that’s part of the human experience. But it’s also exhausting. And you learn that every one of us has the ability to become a shapeshifter. But what does that do to us?

THIS IS ME TRYING

“I’ve been thinking about people who are either suffering through mental illness, addiction or who have an everyday struggle. No one pats them on the back every day but every day they are actively fighting something. There are so many days that nobody gives them credit for that and so, how often must somebody who’s in that sort of internal struggle wanna say to everyone in the room: ‘You have no idea how close I am to going back to a dark place.’ I had this idea that the first verse would be about someone who is in a life crisis and has just been trying and failing in their relationship, has been messing things up with people they love, has been letting everyone down and has driven to this overlook, this cliff, and is just in the car, going, ‘I could do whatever I want in this moment and it could affect everything forever.’ But this person backs up and drives home. The second verse is about someone who felt like they had a lot of potential in their life. I feel like there are a lot of mechanisms for us in our school days, in high school or college, to excel and to be patted on the back for something. And then a lot of people get out of school and there are less abilities for them to get gold stars. Then you have to make all these decisions and you have to pave your own way. There’s no set class course you can take. I think a lot of people feel really swept up in that. And so I was thinking about this person who is really lost in life and then starts drinking…and every second is trying not to.”

March/April 2020: the lakes was also done remotely, but written before Taylor started collaborating with Aaron, placing it between March and April 2020:

[Taylor] “We’d gone to the Lake District in England a couple years ago. In the 19th century you had a lot of poets like William Wordsworth and John Keats who’d spend a lot of time there. And there was a poet district, these artists that moved there. They were heckled for it and made fun of for being these eccentrics and kind of odd artists who decided that they just wanted to live there. I remember thinking, ‘I could see this.’ You live in a cottage and you got wisteria growing up the outside of it…of course they escaped like that. And they had their own community of other artists who’d done the same thing. I’ve always, in my career since I was probably about twenty, written about this cottage backup plan that I have. I have been writing about that forever. I went to William Wordsworth’s grave and just sat there and I was like, ‘Wow. He went and did it.’ And you kept writing but you didn’t subscribe to the things that were killing you. And that’s really the overarching thing that I felt when I was writing folklore: I may not be able to go to The Lakes right now – or to go anywhere – but I’m going there in my head. The escape plan is working.”

[Jack] On one of my favorite songs on folklore, “The Lakes,” there was this big orchestral version, and Taylor was like, “Eh, make it small.” I had gotten lost in the string arrangements and all this stuff, and I took everything out. I was just like, “Oh, my God!” We were not together because that record was made [remotely], but I remember being in the studio alone like, “Holy shit, this is so perfect.”

This version of the lakes was released on folklore's first anniversary.

April 24, 2020: For his birthday, Aaron Dessner goes on an Instagram Live where he plays a bunch of songs including “Gaite” aka “happiness” and “Stella”, like his daughter, aka “invisible string”

April 27-28, 2020: Taylor contacts Aaron Dessner and asks him to work with her. He sends her a folder of instrumental tracks he had recorded over the years. The first one that inspires Taylor is called “Maple” which will become cardigan. She sends back a voice memo, and right after, she posts a selfie on Instagram with the caption “Not a lot going on at the moment”. What a troll.

[Taylor] The song is about a long lost romance, and why young love is often fixed so permanently within our memories. When looking back on it, why it leaves such an incredible mark and how special it made you feel; all the good things it made you feel, all the pain that it made you feel... The line about feeling like you were an old cardigan under someone's bed, but someone put you on and made you feel like you were their favorite.

[Aaron] That’s the first song we wrote. After Taylor asked if I would be interested in writing with her remotely and working on songs, I said, “Are you interested in a certain kind of sound?” She said, “I’m just interested in what you do and what you’re up to. Just send anything, literally anything, it could be the weirdest thing you’ve ever done,” so I sent a folder of stuff I had done that I was really excited about recently. “cardigan” was one of those sketches; it was originally called “Maple.” It was basically exactly what it is on the record, except we added orchestration later that my brother wrote. I sent [the file] at 9 p.m., and around 2 a.m. or something, there was “cardigan,” fully written. That’s when I realized something crazy was happening. She just dialed directly into the heart of the music and wrote an incredible song and fully conceived of it and then kept going. It harkens back to lessons learned, or experiences in your youth, in a really beautiful way and this sense of longing and sadness, but ultimately, it’s cathartic. I thought it was a perfect match for the music, and how her voice feels. It was kind of a guide. It had these lower register parts, and I think we both realized that this was a bit of a lightning rod for a lot of the rest of the record.

[Taylor] “The quality that really confounded me about Aaron’s instrumental tracks is that to me, they were immediately, intensely visual,” Swift wrote in an email. “As soon as I heard the first one, I understood why he calls them ‘sketches.’ The first time I heard the track for ‘Cardigan,’ I saw high heels on cobblestones. I knew it had to be about teenage miscommunications and the loss of what could’ve been. I’ve always been so curious about people with synesthesia, who see colors or shapes when they hear music. The closest thing I’ve ever experienced is seeing an entire story or scene play out in my head when I hear Aaron Dessner’s instrumental tracks.”

Aaron Dessner shared a screenshot from when Taylor sent him back cardigan.

April 29-30, 2020: Taylor writes seven and peace. seven is the only song that was entirely recorded at Long Pond.

SEVEN

[Aaron] This is the second song we wrote. It’s kind of looking back at childhood and those childhood feelings, recounting memories and memorializing them. It’s this beautiful folk song. It has one of the most important lines on the record: “And just like a folk song, our love will be passed on.” That’s what this album is doing. It’s passing down. It’s memorializing love, childhood, and memories. It’s a folkloric way of processing.

PEACE

[Taylor] “I think this is a song that is extremely personal to me. There are times when I feel like with everything that’s in my control, I can make myself seem like someone who doesn’t have an abnormal life and I try that every day. It’s like, 'How do I make my friends, and family, and my loved ones not see this big elephant that’s in the room for our normal life?' Because I don’t want the elephant in the room. If you’re gonna be in my life I feel like there’s a certain amount that comes with it that I can’t stop from happening. I can’t stop from you getting a call in the morning that says, ‘The tabloids are writing this today.’ I can’t help it if there’s a guy with a camera two miles away with a telescope lense taking pictures of you. I can’t stop those things from happening. And so this song was basically like, ‘Is it enough? Is the stuff that I can control enough to block out the things that I can’t?' So it makes me really emotional to hear this song.

[Taylor] To know that a lot of people related to it who aren’t talking about the same things that I’m talking about. They’re talking about human complexity. It’s about someone who you wanna provide with peace, someone you love, so you want them to have as much peace in their life as possible and reconciling the fact that you might not be their best option for that. But is it still a deal they wanna take?

[Taylor to Paul McCartney] 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.

[Aaron] “I wrote this, and Justin provided the pulse. We trade ideas all the time and he made a folder, and there was a pulse in there that I wrote these bass lines to. In the other parts of the composition, I did it to Justin’s pulse. Taylor heard this sketch and she wrote the song. It reminds me of Joni Mitchell, in a way — there’s this really powerful and emotional love song, even the impressionistic, almost jazz-like bridge, and she weaves it perfectly together. This is one of my favorites, for sure. But the truth is that the music, that way of playing with harmonized bass lines, is something that probably comes a little bit from me being inspired by how Justin does that sometimes. There’s probably a connection there. We didn’t talk too much about it [laughs]. The song “peace” — when she wrote that, it was just a harmonized bass and a pulse. She wrote this incredible love song to it that’s one vocal take.”

May 2020: Taylor and Aaron spend the entire month writing all the songs on folklore.

EXILE (FT. BON IVER)

Taylor and William Bowery, the singer-songwriter, wrote that song initially together and sent it to me as a sort of a rough demo where Taylor was singing both the male and female parts. It’s supposed to be a dialogue between two lovers. I interpreted that and built the song, played the piano, and built around that template. We recorded Taylor’s vocals with her singing her parts but also the male parts. We talked a lot about who she thought would be perfect to sing, and we kept coming back to Justin [Vernon]. Obviously, he’s a dear friend of mine and collaborator. I said, “Well, if he’s inspired by the song, he’ll do it, and if not, he won’t.” I sent it to him and said, “No pressure at all, literally no pressure, but how do you feel about this?” He said, “Wow.” He wrote some parts into it also, and we went back and forth a little bit, but it felt like an incredibly natural and safe collaboration between friends. It didn’t feel like getting a guest star or whatever. It was just like, well, we’re working on something, and obviously he’s crazy talented, but it just felt right. I think they both put so much raw emotion into it. It’s like a surface bubbling. It’s believable, you know? You believe that they’re having this intense dialogue. With other people I had to be secretive, but with Justin, because he was going to sing, I actually did send him a version of the song with her vocals and told him what I was up to. He was like, “Whoa! Awesome!” But he’s been involved in so many big collaborative things that he wasn’t interested in it from that point of view. It’s more because he loved the song and he thought he could do something with it that would add something.

[Taylor on exile] “Exile was a song that was written about miscommunications in relationships, and in the case of this song I imagine that the miscommunications ended the relationship - that they led to sort of the demise of this love affair. And now these two people are seeing each other out for the first time and they keep miscommunicating with each other, they can’t quite get on the same page, they never were able to. So even in their end, even after they’ve broken up they’re still not hearing each other, so we imagined that the beginning of it would be his side of the story, second verse would be her side of the story, and then the end would be sort of them talking over each other and not listening to the other, sort of like an argument. Yeah, I’m really stoked about how it turned out because it really does seem like this sort of tragedy of two people, two ships passing in the night.”

[Joe Alwyn] Alwyn doesn’t consider himself a musician or songwriter and insists that he is, in fact, an awful singer. He was merely “messing around” on the piano when Swift heard and walked over, intrigued. He had been singing the fully formed first verse to the song that became “Exile.”. “It was completely off the cuff, an accident,” he says, shrugging. “She said, ‘Can we try and sit down and get to the end together?’ And so we did. It was as basic as some people made sourdough.” I’d probably had a drink and was just stumbling around the house. We couldn’t decide on a film to watch that night, and she was like, ‘Do you want to try and finish writing that song you were singing earlier?’ And so we got a guitar and did that. I press him on this point — he wrote an entire verse to a Taylor Swift song without trying? “Who doesn’t walk around the house singing?” he asks. I explain that it’s unusual for hit songs to spring forth like that from non-musicians’ heads. He says he wasn’t trying to write to Swift’s personal sound but had been listening to a lot of the National.

[Aaron] It was Taylor’s idea to approach [Justin Vernon]. I sent him Taylor’s voice memo of her singing both parts, and he got really excited and loved the song and then he wrote the extra part in the bridge.

INVISIBLE STRING

[Taylor] When I first heard the track that [Aaron] sent me I thought, ‘I have to write something that matches it’. And pretty quickly I came upon the idea of fate. ‘Cause sometimes I just go into a rabbit hole of thinking about how things happen and I love the romantic idea that every step you’re taking, you’re taking one step closer to what you’re supposed to be, guided by this little invisible string. I wrote it right after I sent an ex a baby gift and I just remember thinking, 'This is a full signifier that life is great!'

[Aaron] That was another one where it was music that I’d been playing for a couple of months and sort of humming along to her. It felt like one of the songs that pulls you along. Just playing it on one guitar, it has this emotional locomotion in it, a meditative finger-picking pattern that I really gravitate to. It’s played on this rubber bridge that my friend put on [the guitar] and it deadens the strings so that it sounds old. The core of it sounds like a folk song. It’s also kind of a sneaky pop song, because of the beat that comes in. She knew that there was something coming because she said, “You know, I love this and I’m hearing something already.” And then she said, “This will change the story,” this beautiful and direct kind of recounting of a relationship in its origin.

MAD WOMAN

[Taylor] [“mad woman” has] these ominous strings underneath it and I was like, ‘Oh, this is female rage.' And then I was thinking the most rage provoking element of being a female is the gaslighting that happens. For centuries, we were just expected to absorb male behavior silently. And oftentimes, when we – in our enlightened and emboldened state – now respond to bad male behavior or somebody just doing something that’s absolutely out of line and we respond, that response is treated like the offense itself. There’s been situations recently with someone who’s very guilty of this in my life and it’s a person who makes me feel (or tries to make me feel) like I’m the offender by having any kind of defense to his offenses. It’s like I have absolutely no right to respond or I’m crazy. I have no right to respond or I’m angry. I have no right to respond or I’m out of line. So [Aaron] provided the musical bed for me to make that point that I’ve been trying so hard to figure out how to make…How do I say why this feels so bad?

[Aaron] That might be the most scathing song on folklore. It has a darkness that I think is cathartic, sort of witch-hunting and gaslighting and maybe bullying. Sometimes you become the person people try to pin you into a corner to be, which is not really fair. But again, don’t quote me on that [laughs], I just have my own interpretation. It’s one of the biggest releases on the album to me. It has this very sharp tone to it, but sort of in gothic folklore. It’s this record’s goth song.

EPIPHANY

[Taylor] I remember thinking, ‘Maybe I wanna write a sports story.’ Because I had just watched The Last Dance and I was thinking all in terms of sports, and winners, and underdogs. But actually, what I had been doing really frequently up until that point was I had been doing a lot of research on my grandfather who fought in World War II at Guadalcanal, which was an extremely bloody battle. And he never talked about it. Not with his sons, not with his wife. Nobody got to hear about what happened there. So my dad and his brothers did a lot of digging and found out that my granddad was exposed to some of the worst situations you could ever imagine as a human being. So I kind of tried to imagine what would happen in order to make you just never be able to speak about something. And when I was thinking about that I realized that there are people right now taking a twenty minute break in between shifts at a hospital who are having this kind of trauma happen to them right now, that they probably will never wanna speak about. And so I thought that this is an opportunity to maybe tell that story. I often feel that there have been times in my life where things have fallen apart so methodically, and I couldn’t control how things were going wrong, and nothing I did stopped it. I just felt like I’d been pushed out a plane and I was scratching on the air on the way down. I just felt like the universe was doing its thing. It was just dismantling my life and there was nothing I could do. And this is a weird situation where – ever since I started making music with [Aaron] – I felt like that was the universe forcing things to fall into place perfectly and there’s nothing I could do. It’s one of those weird things that makes you think about life a lot. This lockdown could’ve been a time where I absolutely lost my mind and instead I think this album was a real floatation device for both of us.

[Aaron] For epiphany, she did have this idea of a beautiful drone, or a very cinematic sort of widescreen song, where it’s not a lot of accents but more like a sea to bathe in. A stillness, in a sense. I first made this crazy drone which starts the song, and it’s there the whole time. It’s lots of different instruments played and then slowed down and reversed. It created this giant stack of harmony, which is so giant that it was kind of hard to manage, sonically, but it was very beautiful to get lost in. And then I played the piano to it, and it almost felt classical or something, those suspended chords. I think she just heard it, and instantly, this song came to her, which is really an important one. It’s partially the story of her grandfather, who was a soldier, and partially then a story about a nurse in modern times. I don’t know if this is how she did it, but to me, it’s like a nurse, doctor, or medical professional, where med school doesn’t fully prepare you for seeing someone pass away or just the difficult emotional things that you’ll encounter in your job. In the past, heroes were just soldiers. Now they’re also medical professionals. To me, that’s the underlying mission of the song. There are some things that you see that are hard to talk about. You can’t talk about it. You just bear witness to them. But there’s something else incredibly soothing and comforting about this song. To me, it’s this Icelandic kind of feel, almost classical. My brother did really beautiful orchestration of it.

BETTY

[Aaron] This one Taylor and William wrote, and then both Jack and I worked on it. We all kind of passed it around. This is the one where Taylor wanted a reference. She wanted it to have an early Bob Dylan, sort of a Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan feel. We pushed it a little more towards John Wesley Harding, since it has some drums. It’s this epic narrative folk song where it tells us a long story and connects back to “cardigan.” It starts to connect dots and I think it’s a beautifully written folk song.

[Taylor] I just heard Joe singing the entire fully formed chorus of ‘betty’ from another room. And I was just like, ‘Hello.’ It was a step that we would never have taken, because why would we have ever written a song together? So this was the first time we had a conversation where I came in and I was like, 'Hey, this could be really weird, and we could hate this, so because we’re in quarantine and there’s nothing else going on, could we just try to see what it’s like if we write this song together?' So he was singing the chorus of it, and I thought it sounded really good from a man’s voice, from a masculine perspective. And I really liked that it seemed to be an apology. I’ve written so many songs from a female’s perspective of wanting a male apology that we decided to make it from a teenage boy’s perspective apologizing after he loses the love of his life because he’s been foolish.

[James] has lost the love of his life basically and doesn't understand how to get it back. I think we all have these situations in our lives where we learn to really, really give a heartfelt apology for the first time. Everybody makes mistakes, everybody really messes up sometimes and this is a song that I wrote from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy. I've always loved that in music you can kinda slip into different identities and you can sing from other people's perspectives. So that's what I did on this one," the superstar explained of the song's premise, before revealing, "I named all the characters in this story after my friends' kids... and I hope you like it!

[Joe Alwyn] I’d probably had a drink and was just stumbling around the house. We couldn’t decide on a film to watch that night, and she was like, ‘Do you want to try and finish writing that song you were singing earlier?’ And so we got a guitar and did that.” Initially, Alwyn didn’t want his name credited, anticipating that what he describes as the “clickbait conversation” would distract people from actually listening to the music. So he went by William Bowery as a nod to his music-composer great-grandfather and the Manhattan street.

[Taylor] With ‘betty,’ Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that’s exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people’s. It’s been really fun to watch.

THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY

[Taylor] When [Aaron] sent me the track to ‘the last great american dynasty’ I had been wanting to write a song about Rebekah Harkness since 2013, probably. I’d never figured out the right way to do it because there was never a track that felt like it could hold an entire story of somebody’s life and moving between generations. When I heard that [the track] I was like, ‘Oh my God, I think this is my opening. I think this is my moment. I think I can write the Rebekah Harkness story!' It has that country music narrative device.”

[Aaron] I wrote that after we’d been working for a while. It was an attempt to write something attractive, more uptempo and kind of pushing. I also was interested in this almost In Rainbows-style latticework of electric guitars. They come in and sort of pull you along, kind of reminiscent of Big Red Machine. It was very much in this sound world that I’ve been playing around with, and she immediately clicked with that. Initially I was imagining these dreamlike distant electric guitars and electronics but with an element of folk. There’s a lot going on in that sense. I sent it before I went on a run, and when I got back from the run, that song was there [laughs].She told me the story behind it, which sort of recounts the narrative of Rebekah Harkness, whom people actually called Betty. She was married to the heir of Standard Oil fortune, married into the Harkness family, and they bought this house in Rhode Island up on a cliff. It’s kind of the story of this woman and the outrageous parties she threw. She was infamous for not fitting in, entirely, in society; that story, at the end, becomes personal. Eventually, Taylor bought that house. I think that is symptomatic of folklore, this type of narrative song. We didn’t do very much to that either.

[Taylor] “Anyone who's been there before knows that I do 'The Tour,' where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.”

Dessner and Swift were working intensively and at high speed throughout 2020, so much so that on one occasion the producer sent the singer a track and went out for a run in the countryside around Long Pond. By the time he got back, Swift had already written ‘the last great american dynasty’ and it was waiting for him in his inbox.

Late May/Early June 2020: Taylor sends Aaron the last two folklore songs, the 1 and hoax.

[Aaron] “the 1” and “hoax,” the first song and the last song, were the last songs we did. The album was sort of finished before that. We thought it was complete, but Taylor then went back into the folder of ideas that I had shared. I think in a way, she didn’t realize she was writing for this album or a future something. She wrote “the 1,” and then she wrote “hoax” a couple of hours later and sent them in the middle of the night. When I woke up in the morning, I wrote her before she woke up in LA and said, “These have to be on the record.” She woke up and said, “I agree” [laughs]. These are the bookends, you know?It’s clear that “the 1” is not written from her perspective. It’s written from another friend’s perspective. There’s an emotional wryness and rawness, while also to this kind of wink in her eyes. There’s a little bit of her sense of humor in there, in addition to this kind of sadness that exists both underneath and on the surface. I enjoy that about her writing. The song [began from] the voice memo she sent me, and then I worked on the music some and we tracked her vocals, and then my brother added orchestration. There are a few other little bits, but basically that was one of the very last things we did. [Hoax] is a big departure. I think she said to me, “Don’t try to give it any other space other than what feels natural to you.” If you leave me in a room with a piano, I might play something like this. I take a lot of comfort in this. I think I imagined her playing this and singing it. After writing all these songs, this one felt the most emotional and, in a way, the rawest. It is one of my favorites. There’s sadness, but it’s a kind of hopeful sadness. It’s a recognition that you take on the burden of your partners, your loved ones, and their ups and downs. That’s both “peace” and “hoax” to me. That’s part of how I feel about those songs because I think that’s life. There’s a reality, the gravity or an understanding of the human condition.

[Taylor on the 1] I think, ‘I’m doing good, I’m on some new shit, been saying 'Yes' instead of 'No’ has a double meaning. Opening the album with that line applies to the situation that this song is written about where you’re updating a former lover on what your life is like now and trying to be positive about it. But it was also about where I am creatively. I’m just saying ‘Yes’, I’m just putting out an album in the worst time you could put one out, I’m just making stuff with someone who I’ve always wanted to make stuff with, as long as I’ve been a fan of The National. I’m just going to say 'Yes’ to stuff and it worked out.

[Taylor on hoax] The word ‘hoax’ is another one that I love. I love that is has an ‘x’ and the way it looks and sounds. I think with this song being the last one on the album it kind of embodied all the things that this album was thematically: confessions, incorporating nature, emotional volatility and ambiguity at the same time, love that isn’t just easy. And it’s the most symbolic and poetic thing, listing all these things that this person is to you. That line, ‘You know it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart’ – anyone in my life knows what I’m singing about there but everybody has that situation in their life where you let someone in and they get to know you and they know exactly what buttons to push to hurt you the most. That thing where the scars healed over but there’s still phantom pain. I think the part that sounds like love to me is, ‘Don’t want no other shade of blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do.’ To me that sounds like what love really is. Who would you be sad with? And who would you deal with when they were sad? And like, gray skies every day for months, would you still stay?

[Aaron] We didn’t talk about [the meaning of the album] at first. It was only after writing six or seven songs, basically when I thought my writing was done, when we got on the phone and said, “OK, I think we’re making an album. I have these six other ideas that I love with Jack [Antonoff] that we’ve already done, and I think what we’ve done fits really well with them.” It’s sort of these narratives, these folkloric songs, with characters that interweave and are written from different perspectives. She had a vision, and it was connecting back in some way to the folk tradition, but obviously not entirely sonically. It’s more about the narrative aspect of it. I think it’s this sort of nostalgia and wistfulness that is in a lot of the songs. A lot of them have this kind of longing for looking back on things that have happened in your life, in your friend’s life, or another loved one’s life, and the kind of storytelling around that. That was clear to her. But then we kept going, and more and more songs happened. It was a very organic process where [meaning] wasn’t something that we really discussed. It just kind of would happen where she would dive back into the folder and find other things that were inspiring. Or she and William Bowery would write “exile,” and then that happened. There were different stages of the process.

May 21, 2020: As stated in the folklore: long pond sessions, Taylor started recording the vocals on this day. She also finishes august while in the vocal booth.

[Taylor] In my head, I’ve been calling the girl from ‘august’ either Augusta or Augustine. What happened in my head was: ‘cardigan’ is Betty’s perspective from 20 or 30 years later, looking back on this love that was this tumultuous thing. I think Betty and James ended up together. So in my head, she ends up with him but he really put her through it. ‘august’ was obviously about the girl that James had this summer with. She seems like she’s a bad girl, but really she’s not. She’s a really sensitive person who fell for him and she was trying to seem cool and like she didn’t care because that’s what girls have to do. And she was trying to let him think that she didn’t care, but she did and she thought they had something very real. And then he goes back to Betty. So the idea that there is some bad, villain girl in any type of situation who ‘takes your man’ is a total myth because that’s not usually the case at all. Everybody has feelings and wants to be seen and loved. And Augustine…that’s all she wanted.

She previously had written down the phrase ‘Meet me behind the mall’ in her phone years ago, wanting to write it into a song.

May 22-June 5, 2020: Taylor leaves LA and goes to Upstate New York to touch up some vocals (Betty), and shooting the photoshoot at Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds' house. She also records Carolina at Long Pond. The song was recorded in one take using only instruments available before 1953.

[EW Interview] “I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a mood board and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.”

[About Carolina] About a year & half ago I wrote a song about the story of a girl who always lived on the outside, looking in. Figuratively & literally. The juxtaposition of her loneliness & independence. Her curiosity & fear all tangled up. Her persisting gentleness & the world’s betrayal of it. I wrote this one alone in the middle of the night and then Aaron Dessner and I meticulously worked on a sound that we felt would be authentic to the moment when this story takes place. I made a wish that one day you would hear it. here The Crawdads Sing is a book I got absolutely lost in when I read it years ago. As soon as I heard there was a film in the works starring the incredible Daisy Edgar-Jones and produced by the brilliant Reese Witherspoon, I knew I wanted to be a part of it from the musical side. I wrote the song “Carolina” alone and asked my friend Aaron Dessner to produce it. I wanted to create something haunting and ethereal to match this mesmerizing story.

June 5, 2020: The Inner Circle posts the Oxford definition of the word folklore: “The traditional beliefs, customs, and stories of a community, passed through the generations by word of mouth.” adding “Taylor, your secret is safe with us.” later that day.

June 16, 2020: The Inner Circle posts the Oxford definition of the word cardigan: “A knitted sweater fastening down the front, typically with long sleeves. (Taylor, your secret remains safe with us. Here at the IC we are anxiously awaiting your big reveal)”

June-July 2020: During June and possibly early July, Aaron and Jon Low mix and master the album. It's a complicated process.

[Aaron] If there was trouble it started to be because of track counts. I probably only used 20 percent of what was actually recorded, ’cause we would try a lot of things, y’know. So, eventually the sessions got kinda crazy and you’d have to deactivate a lot of things and print things. But we got used to that. [...] I think the main thing was I wanted her vocals to have a more full range than maybe you typically hear, because I think a lot of the more pop oriented records are mixed a certain way and they take some of the warmth out of the vocal, so that it’s very bright and it kinda cuts really well on the radio. But she has this wonderful lower warmth frequency in her voice which is particularly important on a song like ‘seven’. If you carved out that mud, y’know, it wouldn’t hit you the same way. Or, like, ‘cardigan’, I think it needs that warmth, the kind of fuller feeling to it. It makes it darker, but to me that’s where a lot of emotion is.

[Aaron on the mixing process] In some instances, the final mix ended up being the never bettered rough mix, while other songs took far more work. “‘cardigan’ is basically the rough, as is ‘seven’. So, like the early, early mixes, when we didn’t even know we were mixing, we never were able to make it better. Like if you make it sound ‘good’, it might not be as good ’cause it loses some of its weird magic, y’know. But songs like ‘the last great american dynasty’ or ‘mad woman’, those songs were a little harder to create the dynamics the way you want them, and the pay off without going too far, and with also just keeping in the kind of aesthetic that we were in. Those were harder, I would say.

[Mixer Jon Low] In the beginning it did not feel real,” recalls Low. “There was this brand new collaboration, and it was amazing how quickly Aaron made these instrumental sketches and Taylor wrote lyrics and melodies to them, which she initially sent to us as iPhone voice memos. During our nightly family dinners in lockdown, Aaron would regularly pull up his phone and say, ‘Listen to this!’ and there would be another voice memo from Taylor with this beautiful song that she had written over a sketch of Aaron’s in a matter of hours. The rate at which it was happening was mind blowing. There was constant elevation, inspiration and just wanting to continue the momentum. “We put her voice memos straight into Pro Tools. They had tons of character, because of the weird phone compression and cutting midrange quality you just would not get when you put someone in front of a pristine recording chain. Plus there was all this bleed. It’s interesting how that dictates the attitude of the vocal and of the song. Even though none of the original voice memos ended up on the albums, they often gave us unexpected hints. These voice memos were such on a whim things, they were really telling. Taylor had certain phrasings and inflections that we often returned to later on. They became our reference points. “Taylor’s voice memos often came with suggestions for how to edit the sketches: maybe throw in a bridge somewhere, shorten a section, change the chords or arrangement somewhere, and so on. Aaron would have similar ideas, and he then developed the arrangements, often with his brother Bryce, adding or replacing instruments. This happened fast, and became very interactive between us and Taylor, even though we were working remotely. When we added instruments, we were reacting to the way my rough mixes felt at the very beginning. Of course, it was also dictated by how Taylor wrote and sang to the tracks.”

[Jon Low on the mixing process] Throughout the entire process we were trying to maintain the original feel. Sometimes this was hard, because that initial rawness would get lost in large arrangements and additional layering. With revisions of folklore in particular we sometimes were losing the emotional weight from earlier more casual mixes. Because I was always mixing, there was also always the danger of over mixing. “We were trying to get the best of each mix version, and sometimes that meant stepping backwards, and grabbing a piano chain from an earlier mix, or going three versions back to before we added orchestration. There were definitely moments of thinking, ‘Is this going to compete sonically? Is this loud enough?’ We knew we loved the way the songs sounded as we were building them, so we stuck with what we knew. There were times where I tried to keep pushing a mix forward but it didn’t improve the song — ‘cardigan’ is an example of a song where we ended up choosing a very early mix.

Fun fact, the released version of exile is the 41st mix. I can't link you a source, you just have to trust me on this one.

July 2020: While folklore is being finished, Taylor continues to write songs. The first two songs, that at first seem like Big Red Machine songs, are dorothea and closure.

[Aaron] A lot more of [evermore] was made from scratch. After Folklore came out, I think Taylor had written two songs early on that we both thought were for Big Red Machine, “Closure” and “Dorothea.” But the more I listened to them, not that they couldn’t be Big Red Machine songs, but they felt like interesting, exciting Taylor songs. “Closure” is very experimental and in this weird time signature, but still lyrically felt like some evolution of Folklore, and “Dorothea” definitely felt like it was reflecting on some character.

[Aaron on closure] Vernon provided the grainy beat that kicks off ‘closure’, one of two tracks on evermore that started life as a sketch for the second Big Red Machine album. “It was this little loop that Justin had given me in this folder of ‘Starters’, he calls them. I had heard that and been playing the piano to it. But I was hearing it in 5/4, although it’s not in 5/4. ‘Closure’ really opened everything up further. There were no real limits to where we were gonna try to write songs.”

In the Billboard interview above, Aaron says he thinks that Taylor wrote them after folklore was released, while in the Rolling Stone one he says they were written while finishing up the folklore mixes.

“I think I’d written around 30 of those songs in total,” Dessner recalls. “So when I started sharing them with Taylor over the months that we were working on Folklore, she got really into it, and she wrote two songs to some of that music.” One was “Closure,” an experimental electronic track in 5/4 time signature that was built over a staccato drum kit. The other song was “Dorothea,” a rollicking, Americana piano tune. The more Dessner listened to them, the more he realized that they were continuations of Folklore‘s characters and stories. But the real turning point came soon after Folklore‘s surprise release in late July, when Dessner wrote a musical sketch and named it “Westerly,” after the town in Rhode Island where Swift owns the house previously owned by Rebekah Harkness.

Dorothea is the only evermore song to have been recorded at Taylor's home studio in LA, she left LA 3 days after the release of folklore so Occam's razor, I'm guessing that the RS interview is the correct one and dorothea and closure were written in late June/early July, while the Folklorians were finishing up the album.

July 24, 2020: folklore is released, after being announced the day before.

August 6-18, 2020: To celebrate how well folklore was received, Aaron composes an instrumental track called Westerly, named after the town in Rhode Island where Taylor owns Holiday House. Taylor writes willow on it, then sends a voice memo to Aaron.

[Voice Memo] “Here's the Westerly one, written in Westerly!”

[Aaron] And I, sort of in celebration of Folklore, had written a piece of music that I titled “Westerly,” that’s where she has the house that she wrote “Last Great American Dynasty” about. I’ll do that sometimes, just make things for friends or write music just to write it, but I didn’t at all think it would become a song. And she, like an hour later, sent back “Willow” written to that song, and that sort of set [things in motion] and we just started filling this Dropbox again. It was kind of like, “What’s happening?”

There are so many stories I could share. When I sent Taylor the music for our song 'willow' — I think she wrote the entire song from start to finish in less than 10 minutes and sent it back to me. It was like an earthquake. Then Taylor said, 'I guess we are making another album.'

I liked opening the album with ['willow'] because I loved the feeling that I got, immediately upon hearing the instrumental that Aaron created for it. It felt strangely witchy, like somebody making a love potion, dreaming up the person that they want and desire, and trying to figure out how to get that person in their life. And all the misdirection, and bait and switch, and complexity that goes into seeing someone, feeling a connection, wanting them, and trying to make them a part of your life. It’s tactical at times, it’s confusing at times, it’s up to fate, it’s magical. It felt a bit magical and mysterious, which is what I want people to feel going into an album that was a collection of these stories that were going to take them in all kinds of directions. I just wanted to start them off with a setting of the vibe.

August/September 2020: Taylor writes no body, no crime, possibly while in London.

[Taylor] Working with the HAIM sisters on 'no body, no crime' was pretty hilarious because it came about after I wrote a pretty dark murder mystery song and had named the character Este, because she’s the friend I have who would be stoked to be in a song like that. I had finished the song and was nailing down some lyric details and texted her, 'You’re not going to understand this text for a few days but... which chain restaurant do you like best?' and I named a few. She chose Olive Garden and a few days later I sent her the song and asked if they would sing on it. It was an immediate 'YES.'

[Aaron] Taylor wrote that one alone and sent me a voice memo of her playing guitar — she wrote it on this rubber-bridge guitar that I got for her. It’s the same kind I play on “Invisible String.” So she wrote “No Body, No Crime” and sent me a voice memo of it, and then I started building on that. It’s funny, because the music I’ve listened to the most in my life are things that are more like that — roots music, folk music, country music, old-school rock & roll, the Grateful Dead. It’s not really the sound of the National or other things I’ve done, but it feels like a warm blanket. Taylor had specific ideas from the beginning about references and how she wanted it to feel, and that she wanted the Haim sisters to sing on it. We had them record the song with Ariel Reichshaid, they sent that from L.A., and then we put it together when Taylor was here [at Long Pond]. They’re an incredible band, and it was another situation where we were like, “Well, this happened.” It felt like this weird little rock & roll history anecdote.

[Aaron] [We realized evermore was going to end up being another album] after we’d written several songs, seven or eight or nine. Each one would happen, and we would both be in this sort of disbelief of this weird alchemy that we had unleashed. The ideas were coming fast and furiously and were just as compelling as anything on Folklore, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. At some point, Taylor wrote evermore with William Bowery, and then we sent it to Justin, who wrote the bridge, and all of a sudden, that’s when it started to become clear that there was a sister record.

September 16- 23, 2020: Taylor and Jack go to Upstate New York to record the Long Pond Studio Session. She writes 'tis the damn season there on the 17th. Afterwards Taylor stays a few more days to record the bulk of the evermore vocals: willow, champagne problems, gold rush, 'tis the damn season, tolerate it, no body no crime, coney island, ivy, long story short, marjorie, closure, evermore, and it’s time to go.

After the Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions, [Taylor] stayed for quite a while and we recorded a lot. She actually wrote 'tis the damn season when she arrived for the first day of rehearsal. We played all night and drank a lot of wine after the fireside chat — and we were all pretty drunk, to be honest — and then I thought she went to bed. But the next morning, at 9:00 a.m. or something, she showed up and was like, “I have to sing you this song,” and she had written it in the middle of the night. That was definitely another moment [where] my brain exploded, because she sang it to me in my kitchen, and it was just surreal. That music is actually older — it’s something I wrote many years ago, and hid away because I loved it so much. It meant something to me, and it felt like the perfect song finally found it. There was a feeling in it, and she identified that feeling: That feeling of... “The ache in you, put there by the ache in me.” I think everyone can relate to that. It’s one of my favorites.

[Aaron] She stayed after we were done filming and then we recorded a lot. It was crazy because we were getting ready to make that film, but at the same time, these songs were accumulating. And so we thought, “Hmm, I guess we should just stay and work.”

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

[Taylor] Joe and I really love sad songs. He started that one and came up with the melodic structure of it. I say it was a surprise that we started writing together, but in a way it wasn’t cause we had always bonded over music and had the same musical tastes. He’s always the person who’s showing me songs by artists and then they become my favorite songs. ‘champagne problems’ was one of my favorite bridges to write. I really love a bridge where you tell the full story in the bridge. You really shift gears in that bridge. I’m so excited to one day be in front of a crowd, when they all sing, ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head’. Cause I know it’s so sad, but it’s those songs like ‘All Too Well’. Performing that song is one of the most joyful experiences I ever go through when I perform live, so when there’s a song like ‘champagne problems’ where you know it’s so sad… I love a sad song, you know?

GOLD RUSH

During the willow live stream premiere, Taylor revealed that “gold rush” is Jack's favourite song and that it takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.

[Jack] gold rush was a pretty different sound than what was on folklore. Even the movement in the chorus and some of the chord changes, they're very outside of the realm for what we've done together. We have different processes. Sometimes we sit in a room, sometimes she'll send me a song, sometimes I'll send her a track. That was one where I had the track going. And she did the classic thing where you send it to her, and a very short time later, she sent back a voice note with all of these brilliant ideas of what the song is.

'TIS THE DAMN SEASON

[Aaron] '‘tis the damn season' is a really special song to me for a number of reasons. When I wrote the music to it, which was a long time ago, I remember thinking that this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever made, even though it’s an incredibly simple musical sketch. But it has this arc to it, and there’s this simplicity in the minimalism of it, and the kind of drum programming in there, and I always loved the tone of that guitar. When Taylor played the track and sang it to me in my kitchen, that was a highlight of this whole time. That track felt like something I have always loved and could have just stayed music, but instead, someone of her incredible storytelling ability and musical ability took it and made something much greater. And it’s something that we can all relate to. [Note: The instrumental Aaron is talking about is called Ingrid and was written in 2013 when his daughter Ingrid Stella was born. It was released in 2018 on the album Songs Without Words.]

TOLERATE IT

[Taylor] When you watch a film or you read a book and there’s a character that you identify with, most of the time you identify with them because they’re targeting something in you that feels that you’ve been there. That’s why we relate to characters. When I was reading Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier I was thinking, ‘Her husband just tolerates her. She’s doing all these things, trying so hard to impress him and he’s just tolerating her the whole time.’ There was a part of me that could relate to that because at some point in my life I felt that way. So I ended up writing this song ‘tolerate it’ that’s all about trying to love someone who’s ambivalent.

[Aaron] When I wrote the piano track to 'tolerate it,' right before I sent it to her, I thought, 'This song is intense.' It’s in 10/8, which is an odd time signature. And I did think for a second, 'Maybe I shouldn’t send it to her, she won’t be into it.' But I sent it to her, and it conjured a scene in her mind, and she wrote this crushingly beautiful song to it and sent it back. I think I cried when I first heard it. It just felt like the most natural thing, you know? There weren’t limitations to the process. And in these places where we were pushing into more experimental sounds or odd time signatures, that just felt like part of the work.

CONEY ISLAND

[Taylor on coney island] “The story behind writing Coney Island - Aaron Dessner had sent me this track that he had created with his brother Bryce and I wrote the lyrics and the melody with William Bowery. I think I might have been coming from a place of somebody who’s been in a relationship for decades and wakes up one day and realizes that they have taken their partner completely for granted. So whether you wanna look at it from the perspective of somebody who’s in a new relationship or very long-standing relationship, I think it just really speaks to if people are trying to communicate but they’re two ships passing in the night, they’re trying to love each other but their signals are somehow missing each other - I just found that really interesting... and yeah, we’re really proud of this one. There were elements of it that immediately reminded me of Matt Berninger‘s vocal stylings and his writing, and I kind of targeted some of the lyrics of the second verse to sound sort of like what he might do - cause I hoped that he might sing on it. Because, you know, we already had two members of The National on the song, with Aaron and Bryce. So we got our wish and Matt sang on this song. I think he did an amazing job, I’m such a huge fan of the band and I’m really honored this was able to come together with The National.”

[Aaron on coney island] One key track on evermore, ‘coney island’, features all of the members of the National and sees Swift duetting with their singer Matt Berninger. “My brother [Bryce] actually originated that song,” says Aaron Dessner. “I sent him a reference at one point — I can’t remember what it was — and then he was sort of inspired to write that chord progression. Then we worked together to sort of develop it and I wrote a bunch of parts and we structured it. Taylor and William Bowery [the songwriting pseudonym of Swift’s boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn] wrote ‘coney island’ and she sang a beautiful version. It felt kind of done, actually. But then I think we all collectively thought — Taylor and myself and Bryce — like this was the closest to a National song. Dessner then asked the brothers who make up the National’s rhythm section, drummer Bryan and bassist Scott Devendorf, to play on ‘coney island’. Matt Berninger, as he often does with the band’s own tracks, recorded his vocal at home in Los Angeles. “It was never in the same place, it was done remotely,” says Dessner, “except Bryan was here at Long Pond when he played. It was great to collaborate as a band with Taylor.”

MARJORIE

[Aaron] “Taylor’s family gave us a bunch of recordings of her grandmother,” Dessner explains. “But they were from old, very scratchy, noisy vinyl. So, we had to denoise it all using [iZotope’s] RX and then I went in and I found some parts that I thought might work. I pitch shifted them into the key and then placed them. It took a while to find the right ones, but it’s really beautiful to be able to hear her. It’s just an incredibly special thing, I think.”

EVERMORE

[Taylor] When Joe wrote the piano, I based the vocal melody on the piano, and we sent it to Justin, who then added that bridge. And Joe had written the piano part so that the tempo speeds up, and it changes. The music completely changes to a different tempo in the bridge. And Justin really latched onto that, and just 100% embraced it and wrote this beautiful sort of... The clutter of all your anxieties in your head, and they're all speaking at once. And we got the bridge back, and then I wrote this narrative of, 'When I was shipwrecked, I thought of you.' That sort of thing, where there was this beacon of hope, and then in the end, you realize the pain wouldn't be forever.

IT'S TIME TO GO

[Taylor] it’s time to go is about listening to your gut when it tells you to leave. How you always know before you know, you know?

Aaron Dessner, Jon Low, Stine Dessner and Taylor at Long Pond in September 2020.

October 6, 2020: Taylor and Paul McCartney get to chat for Rolling Stone. Taylor softly references tolerate it, ivy and willow.

Swift: 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?”

October 14, 2020: Jason Treuting records the glockenspiel on willow. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

October 28, 2020: Bryce Devendorf records the percussions on willow. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

October/November 2020: Aaron goes to see Justin Vernon in his home studio in Wisconsin, where they work on the album. Aaron writes the instrumental sketch to right where you left me before going on this trip.

[Aaron] I went to see Justin at one point — that’s the one trip I’ve made — and we worked together at his place on stuff. He plays the drums on “Cowboy Like Me” and “Closure,” and he plays guitar and banjo and sings on “Ivy,” and sings on “Marjorie” and “Evermore.” And then we processed Taylor’s vocals through his Messina chain together. He was really deeply involved in this record, even more so than the last record. He’s always been such a huge help to me, and not just by getting him to play stuff or sing stuff — I can also send him things and get his feedback. We’ve done a ton of work together, but we have different perspectives and different harmonic brains. He obviously has his own studio set up at home, but it was nice to be able to see him and work on this stuff.

November 4, 2020: Taylor shoots the evermore cover, the Red TV cover, and the EW photos.

November 7, 2020: Taylor films the willow music video.

November 20, 2020: Aaron records the bass on willow. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

November 25, 2020: Taylor is at Marcus Mumford's studio called Scarlet Pimpernel to finish evermore. They record vocals for two new songs, happiness and right where you left me, they touch up the vocals for coney island, they record Joe's piano on evermore the song, and Marcus records backing vocals on cowboy like me. She possibly stays more than one day.

Taylor has mentioned that you recorded “Happiness” just a week before the album was released. Was that something you guys wrote, recorded, and produced all at the last minute, or was it something you’d been sitting on for a while before you finally cracked the code? There were two songs like that. One is a bonus track called “Right Where You Left Me,” and the other one was “Happiness,” which she wrote literally days before we were supposed to master. That’s similar to what happened with Folklore, with “The 1” and “Hoax,” which she wrote days before. We mixed all the tracks here, and it’s a lot to mix 17 songs, it’s like a Herculean task. And it was funny, because I walked into the studio and Jon Low, our engineer here, was mixing and had been working the whole time toward this. And I came in and he’s in the middle of mixing and I was like, “There are two more songs.” And he looked at me like, “…We’re not gonna make it.” Because it does take a lot of time to work out how to finish them. But she sang those remotely. And the music for “Happiness” is something that I had been working on since last year. I had sang a little bit on it, too — I thought it was a Big Red Machine song, but then she loved the instrumental and ended up writing to it. Same with the other one, “Right Where You Left Me” — it was something I had written right before I went to visit Justin, because I thought, “Maybe we’ll make something when we’re together there.” And Taylor had heard that and wrote this amazing song to it. That is a little bit how she works — she writes a lot of songs, and then at the very end she sometimes writes one or two more, and they often are important ones.

[Taylor on cowboy like me] Take yourselves back to 2020, and I put out folklore, and I just kept writing. I thought, 'Let me make a sister album to folklore and call it evermore.' And so I started immediately. Aaron, Jack, and I were just writing remotely. And the challenge at the time was trying to figure out how to record things. Most studios were completely shut down due to Covid, understandably. I could not find a studio, essentially. So Aaron is like, 'Let me call around to see if there is anyone who is cool, and nice, and generous, and might be willing to offer up their home studio, if we do the right amount of testing, we're totally locked down, and quarantined.' And I was like, 'Okay, please, I really hope someone comes through.' And so he calls me ,'I have really really good news. Marcus Mumford said that you could record at his home studio.' So I first of all, I am so excited that he's saving us, because without this trip, we wouldn't have recorded five or six of the songs on evermore, which came from me getting in a car, driving six hours out into the country past thousands of beautiful sheep, to Marcus Mumford's beautiful house where he has a studio. So I got to do this, we get there, and the whole time I'm thinking, 'Okay, wouldn't it be so cool if he would sing on something?' Because I'm such a Mumford & Sons fan. I just think he's brilliant and has one of the most gorgeous voices in the world. So I'm like, 'Will he sing something, please?' But I didn't want to be weird about it, so I'm like, 'I wonder if fate will have him wander into the studio at the right time.' So sure enough, we're recording a song, and he wanders in at the perfect time and just kind of started humming a harmony. And I turned to him as if I hadn't been thinking of it the whole time, and I was like, 'Oh! You sound really good on that harmony! I wonder if you might sing on this song?' And he said, 'Yep, I would love to!' So essentially, because of Marcus Mumford we have a lot of the songs that probably we wouldn't have been able to put out evermore as quickly as we did. And we also have a gorgeous harmony on a song called 'cowboy like me.'

[Aaron] The music for happiness is something that I had been working on since last year. I had sang a little bit on it, too — I thought it was a Big Red Machine song, but then she loved the instrumental and ended up writing to it.

[Taylor] right where you left me is a song about a girl who stayed forever in the exact spot where her heart was broken, completely frozen in time.

Taylor at Scarlet Pimpernel Studios, and a signed sheet with cowboy like me lyrics which Taylor gave to Marcus Mumford.

December 3 & 4, 2020: Aaron works on willow for the final time, recording some synthesizers. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

[Aaron] On evermore, I would say willow was probably the hardest one to finish just because there were so many ways it could’ve gone. Eventually we settled back almost to the point where it began. So, there’s a lot of stuff that was left out of willow, just because the simplicity of the idea I think was in a way the strongest. It almost felt like a dare or something. We were writing, recording and mixing all in one kind of work stream and we went from one record to the other almost immediately. We were just sort off to the races. We didn’t really ever stop since April.

[Low] The final mix stage for evermore was “very short. There was a moment in the final week or so leading up to the release where the songs were developed far enough for me to sit down and try to make something very cohesive and final, finalising vocal volume, overall volume, and the vibe. There’s a point in every mix where the moves get really small. When a volume ride of 0.1dB makes a difference, you’re really close to being done. Earlier on, those little adjustments don’t really matter.

December 11, 2020: evermore is released.

With folklore, one of the main themes throughout that album was ‘conflict resolution’, trying to figure out how to get through something with someone, or making confessions, or trying to tell them something, trying to communicate with them. evermore deals a lot in endings of all sorts, shapes and sizes. All the kinds of ways we can end a relationship, a friendship, something toxic and the pain that goes along with that.

I have no idea what will come next. I have no idea about a lot of things these days and so I've clung to the one thing that keeps me connected to you all. That thing always has and always will be music. And may it continue, evermore.

#so it's up #cannot believe it #there are some quotes i left out bc i don't know where to put them #and i know it's a very dense timeline bc it's two albums #taylor swift #taylor swift timelines #writing of folklore timeline #writing of evermore timeline

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paper-mario-wiki · 1 year ago

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Do you do farm stuff Scout? Or would you like to? Like owning chickens or tending an outdoor garden, that sort of thing?

From ages 7 to 19 I lived on farms, and was made to be an active participant in maintenance and usages of the facilities I don't know why the fuck I'm typing it like this, but I grew up on a farm. I was kinda in charge of everything, but slacked a lot and my brother had to cover for me. That said, I still spent a LOT of time doing chores.

At one point or another I've been responsible for most every farm chore you can really think of. All the basics like raking leaves, milking goats, collecting eggs, feeding chickens- but also the big stuff like moving tons of hay, herding flocks, caring for large animals such as llamas, alpacas, horses, and cows, as well as delivering babies, gutting and plucking fowl (only chickens and turkeys, though I've also cared for ducks and geese), dehoring, hoof cleaning, corpse transportation, crop maintenance, winter ice removal by breaking up frozen water troughs in 10 below weather (thought this was usually circumvented by anticipating the cold and setting up water heaters beforehand), constructing enclosures, slaughtering pigs, and etc etc etc etc etc all that shit. Bunnies snakes mini horses donkeys. All that shit. Farm stuff. Ya know.

Moved away when I went to college and immediately plunged into a mixed-zoning district in the Fushimi district in Kyoto. This was a really good transition from rural living to city living, because mixed zoning districts have blocks dedicated to apartment complexes and family homes right next to blocks of rice fields and ponds, which was behind the 7-Eleven I bought most of my food from.

Now I live in a SHITTY mixed zoning area in SHITTY America where we never stop hearing cars because there's a massive parking lot nearby and constant police sirens, not because the area is particularly dangerous, but because there's like 2 police stations nearby.

My ideal housing goal, which also happens to be my current goal in life, is to reach a slightly more rural version of the Kyoto living situation. The goals are very distinct:

0. I'm editing this one in after the fact to note that while I've used Kyoto as an example a few times in this post, I'm just looking for an area that feels right and would happily live in any prefecture that fits my needs.

I want to not be tied directly to a visa which would draw me away from doing whatever work I really want to do, like my student visa did later on when school started getting worse as professors were struggling to learn digital classroom mechanics. The visa I'm shooting for is dependent on a few ideas I have for businesses, but that's still kind of a long shot.

I want to be in a position of relative financial freedom so that I can spend enough time genuinely living there instead of just being tied to a computer all day, limiting me to the world I already know. This one's the big one, so I'm still workin on that. That said, recently I've been taking some pretty massive steps towards making this a more tangible circumstance. Fingers crossed.

I want to have a home that I own instead of renting, and I'd like to work with a Japanese architect to actually construct it. Again, these are big big plans, but I think a life goal is a thing worth thinking big about. And it's not like I'm trying to build a mansion, or even a family-sized house, I think I'd be content with three bedrooms, a kitchen, and common room. Of course, in keeping with the "dream big" spirit, in a world where I've got enough money to have a nicer, slightly bigger home, I can imagine as many as 5 bedrooms. It's nice to imagine in this "perfect" outcome that I've got a reason to have enough space for guests to sleep over. A local community, or an otherwise tangible, real-world web of relationships would be nice. Like, Real Adult Socializing Shit.

I want to have a significant emphasis on self-reliance on this home. As far solarpunk as I can reasonably go, without biting off more than I can chew as someone who's kinda limp-wristed. In a gay way and a feeble way. I figure this will come down to solar panels, water filtration, a well, and a garden (or at least the space to have gardening stuff like pots and soil). Some chickens would be nice too, but I don't know that I'd ever take on livestock proper.

I want to be properly submerged in trees without being more than a 5 minute bike ride from a train station. Somwhere like Yase-Hieizanguchi Station in north Kyoto is a good example of station that's on the edge of a metropolitan area and the forest. There was an apartment there I almost got, but backed out when covid hit cuz I decided moving across town would be a whack decision.

This is a BONUS goal, but I think it'd also be nice to not compromise on a single location, and instead have a home out in the inaka, while also having a small apartment rented in the city I can go between whenever I need to. In a world where I can afford a plot of land out in the country, but would still need to travel into town for business, that would be nice. Though in that scenario I'd likely need to also take on the arduous task of getting a Japanese drivers license. If I know far enough in advance that I want to take this specific route then I could bypass that last one by getting an international license before moving to Japan, but after moving to Japan you're barred from getting an international license.

I couldn't tell you in honesty that I'm a Salt of the Earth, Red Blooded American Farmer in my heart, and in fact I could not WAIT to move away from the farm. I hated that I didn't have a say in living on a farm, and was made to take care of animals. But what I DID enjoy about that life was the stillness. The opportunities of perfect silence. The stars unobstructed by light pollution. The ability to explore. Those things I was incredibly grateful for. And as such, in my perfect world, I would like to live on something like a farm again one day, just on my own terms.

#anon

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expectiations · 9 months ago

Text

Thinking of how "left me like a book on a shelf" is from River's POV and therefore does not mean it is the entirety of the story much like how "the Doctor does not and has never loved me" was uttered from a River who was grieving.

Like the Doctor could have spent a long time putting the TARDIS in stationary orbit around the Library. The Doctor could have puttered about with the Library from years before it was shut down to ensure that everything would go smoothly while doing his best not to change a single thing. And on days when it is too hard, he just stares at the Library from his perch on the TARDIS door. Waiting, hoping, thinking. Trying to find a way out for her. For them.

And he does!

He finds a hundred ways to get her out of the data core. But...something always goes wrong. It's somehow never good enough. She's back, but she's not entirely there.

So he scratches it out, slaps himself, and tries again.

And again.

But his plans always fail.

But they don't. Not really. His plans could work. Could have worked. His beloved Sexy would help him. She'd always help him when it comes to her Water. But he was too scared. Too frightened of failure. Because one single mistake. One. Single. Mistake. And she's gone. He can never get her back. Forever.

So he runs. And runs. And runs. Until centuries has gone by and companion come and gone. Until he met a younger, more alive version of her. And then they had Darillium. And oh the joys of wonderful joys, what a night that was.

But things end. Even for him. They had to part ways again. Had to say goodbye. So he tries again. Picks up what his previous self had shelved. He tries. Oh how he tries.

But still. That fear exists. Is it worth it? Can he finally accomplish what he'd started a literal lifetime ago?

(He doesn't.)

Off on another lifetime with a new body. He's a...she now? Oh and shorter! Wow. That's new! I wonder what Ri–

On the rare moments she allows herself to succumb to sleep she goes to their his her study. She takes a moment to take everything in. It's unrecognizable now – the study that once was theirs filled with warmth and laughter and-

Every single space was taken. Covered by plans of plans of plans spanning...two...lifetimes now. Sexy still kept it just as it was the last time he she had been in there.

Their His Her favorite throw was still where it was – on their his her favorite corner of their his her favorite couch.

Nothing had changed but everything had changed.

She curled up and buried her face hoping it would still smell of her (It did. They never knew how it worked but somehow her smell still lingered anyway. They thought they were hallucinating at first but other people had been able to smell it too. Sometimes they forget but Sexy also lost her too).

She was a he again. The same face they had four lifetimes ago. The same face who was the first to keep the memory of their meeting.

But wh- what? Why? How? Is this it? Is this the body that finally brings her back home? A fitting act really. He put her in there and so he'll also put her out of there.

But... she wasn't there. Nothing was there. Nothing but chunks of debris and ashes and smelted...somethings.

When he blinked his eyes open (when had he closed them?), Donna's worried face greeted him. He blinked again and blinked. Nothing changed. Everything has changed. He had waited for far too long. He had made her wait for far. too. long. He feared of failing her but now he actually has failed her.

Everything was bland now. Was it just him or is everything a bit...on the side of grey? Donna looks at him like he might break. (He won't. He's a Time Lord. Time Lords don't break.) Even Sylvia had taken to treating him a bit more kindly.

He goes off alone with Sexy. His return to the Noble-Temple (Temple-Noble) household becomes fewer and further in between. One day he finds himself in Venice. Wonderful Venice. His Pond and her Roman (who wasn't yet a Roman) had gone here. There were vampires. And running and –

River?

No silly. River wasn't there.

He blinked. And blinked again. Made sure the sky was blue and the clouds still fluffy white. But was that his leather jacket that just whizzed by past him? Wait. Hold on. That was... Was that? Oh no. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Did they? No. They couldn't have.

But of course, apparently they did. Because that was actually his leather jacket wearing self that just passed by him again(?) tugging along his very-much-not-dead wife along running from... Hold on. Why are they running? What- Who's shooting at her?!

#cues in iconic doctor who intro lmao #hi don't mind me. i'm just being my melodramatic PMS self #it's reaaally wonky i think but argh whatever just spitting out my grief and frustration. come to think of it i find words flow easier when #i am upset lol? hmmm what does that say about my high school self who used to write chapters with 1k as minimum.#it's difficult dealing with people who simply say river is just another one of the doctor's marriages so this is me dealing with it #i had trouble knowing where to stop and then thought OH why not put nineriver in but make it Post-Library River???#lmao and i ended it there because i needed to stop (i have 3 – THREE – exams tomorrow)#dw musings #that turned into a sort of fic ish #doctorriver #doctor x river #doctor who #tia talks tish #river song #eleventh doctor #tenth doctor #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #ninth doctor #the doctor's wife #tardis #what other thing can i tag my sort of fic #tia writes tish #post-library river song #yowzah #i pond queue #11th doctor #12th doctor #10th doctor

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fishsticksloser · 2 years ago

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Can i request rottmnt x female reader (separately) hc of reader who have a pet male turtle from the same type as their boyfriend and how the turtles (separately) react to it? Will they be proud, amazed or straight up jealous?

Pet Turtle

RotTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: jealous turtles, fluff, aged up, swearing

A/N: Thank you for your 3 requests after I opened my requests again <3 I'm so happy! Do you like the names I gave the pet turtles :] Also in captivity alligator snapping turtles have been known to live up to 70 years!??? Does that mean Raph can live to be far over 100? How does that work?

Donnie

You had someone you wanted him to meet

So he was panicking, of course

Your parents? Your best friend?

So when he showed up to your apartment, he looked shaken

You looked him to your bedroom, which he's never been in

He sees a giant glass box with water and plants inside

This box took over an entire wall (Spiny Softshells get big)

"This... is Plato."

"Plato?"

He goes up to the box and sees a Spiny Softshell, basking under the heat lamp

"You have a pet turtle? Not just any turtle, but a Spiny Softshell... Like me?"

"Yeah, he's been my pet for... 15 years."

He's very confused

Why do you have a pet?

Why are you dating a humanoid version of your 15 year old pet?

"I...... What the fuck?"

He puts his hand in the enclosure and the softshell hisses, snapping at his hand

"Careful, Dee. He's aggressive."

"15? I've got 8 years on this guy."

Leo

"Hey, Leo? Can you come here?"

Leo came to your bedroom, stopping at the door and knocking

He's never been in your room, so he didn't want to overstep

"Come in."

He stepped inside and saw you feeding your pet

He didn't know you had a pet so he froze

"You can come closer, he doesn't bite... Well... He does sometimes..."

Leo came closer, seeing a turtle in your hand

"You have a pet turtle?"

"Yes, this is Apollo. My red eared slider."

"You've got to be kidding me..."

He watched as you pet Apollo's head, the turtle rubbing his face against your hand

"Been with me for 15 years."

15 years? That's 13 more years than he's had with you.

This was an outrage

Hold on... Why is he jealous of a turtle?

He's your man, your #1.

Still he couldn't shake his jealousy, watching you talk and pet Apollo

Mikey

You asked Mikey to come over

You told him that you wanted him to meet your pet

He was excited

Did you have a dog? Cat? Bird?

He was shocked to see a tank with water and plants

He didn't think of you as a reptile or amphibian person

You leaned over and picked up whatever was in the tank

"This is Monet."

"A box turtle?"

He held his hands out, asking to hold him

"Wow... He's pretty."

He really didn't know what to say

The turtle was very beautiful

You placed the turtle in his hands and he froze

"Are you okay, Mike?"

"He's just like me!"

Mikey looked up and smiled widely

He absolutely loves Monet

He comes over when you're not home sometimes to hang out with Monet

Then he learned Monet was 15

Blown away that you've had him for so long and didn't tell him

Raph

He was meeting someone important to you

He was dressed up, anxious about meeting whoever it was

He got to your place and you showed him to this pond outside your house

"What are we doing out here?"

"Raph, I'd like you to meet Popeye."

He looked where you were pointing and saw an alligator snapping turtle

He wasn't as big as he's heard they get, maybe half the size

"You have a turtle?"

"I've had him for 15 years."

He knelt down and Popeye rushes him

"Raph!"

You knew that Raph could take care of himself

But Alligator Snapping Turtles are very aggressive

Popeye tried biting Raph, but didn't have much luck

His arms were far wider than 5 inches (which is how wide they can open their mouths)

So it barely managed to pinch him

Raph laughed as Popeye continued to try and get a good hold

He had a feeling they'd be good friends

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choosingwhatmatters · 6 months ago

Text

Music in The Loyal Pin, Episode 4

Welcome back to my music rambles. Buckle up, creampuffs, this is going to be a long one. Luckily, it was very easy to structure. Let me tell you about four different types of kisses.

Handkiss – Big emotions

Last week I talked about a piece I call “Big emotions.” It is connected to situations in which our princesses (Pin is the princess of my heart, and nobody can take that title away from her) have a lot of feelings. Snake bites. Tears on letters. Happy reunions. And, in this episode, giddy memories of a kiss to the cheek, as well as the angry chuckage of rocks into a pond.

Although this piece sounds relatively tame, there’s a lot going on in the music, especially the harmonies. A harmony consists of all the notes that accompany the melody at any given time of a piece, plus the notes of the melody itself. Harmonies are the melody’s clothing. They are the bed in which the melody stretches and writhes.

Usually, there is one harmony that everything comes back to. Some call it first chord; some call it tonic. I call it home. Our piece starts out at home in D major. So far, so snug. But then, suddenly, there’s a c in the accompaniment and the first music theorists are already raising their eyebrows: there’s no c in the D major scale. The music is trying to throw us off balance. The whole phrase is repeated and then there’s even more shenanigans in the harmonies. First we greet a chord that is a welcome guest in the house of D major: B minor, its sad little sibling. But suddenly, B flat major appears. A foreigner! Not one, but two notes that do not belong to the D major scale. B flat major waves through the open door before the melody comes to rest in A major, another regular in the household, and there it stays without ever going back to D major.

The whole thing happens in the span of seconds, but it leaves us with several instances of startled surprise and a quality of unfinished-ness. Much like a character grappling with a big emotion, our ears must come to terms with what we’ve just heard.

We hear the melody of the piece one last time at the end of the episode, when Anil is kissing Pin’s hand. It’s only the beginning of the melody, and there’s hardly any accompaniment. No harmonies to throw us off guard. The piece only lasts for a few seconds, hinting at big emotions to come before it floats away.

Butterfly kiss – Anil’s theme

Anil’s theme has undergone a lot of changes in the course of the first four episode. It starts out as a sweet, playful melody that matches Pin’s wistful one. It is often played by a glockenspiel but is fully orchestrated in moments in which Anil twirls for her family. Or sneakily returns from the UK without anyone knowing.

Anil brings back with her a new version of her motif. This one we can hear when she is plotting against the men in Pin’s life or manipulating those around her. Instead of the usual, cheery major scale we’re used to, we can hear the melody in a minor scale. Minor scales tend to sound melancholic or sad. In the piece at hand, the melody sounds sinister which, again, goes back to the harmonies underneath. Harmonies are powerful allies and even more formidable foes.

In episode 4, we can hear the minor version of Anil’s motif when she schemes against Kuea, shortly after being interrupted at the pond with Pin. We hear it again when Pin remembers Pranot trying to kiss Anil’s hand.

And then there’s a brand-new version of the motif when Pin learns about the butterfly kiss.

The time signature is different now. Instead of our usual 4/4 time, we are in 3/4 time. This time measure often has a waltz-y, swaying quality to it. Together with an airy keyboard sound I cannot identify, the whole thing sounds whimsical and innocent. Anil’s theme glistens in silvery glockenspiel notes above this soundscape in a high octave. We are putting a pin (heh) in this fact, namely the use of the glockenspiel and the high pitch.

Lip kiss – Pin’s theme

Pin’s theme is a constant in the first four episodes. Sometimes we can hear the whole piece, sometimes it’s just the first three notes, but it’s everywhere. It hardly changes.

Up until that fateful moment in episode 3, when Pin becomes aware of her heartbeat when she is massaging Anil. The melody evolves. There are more notes and shorter note values. The same thing happens when Anil kisses Pin’s lips.

Y’all, I don’t even know where to start gushing because this is so beautiful. As Pin has these life-changing experiences, her melody expands. It’s played by a glockenspiel now, the same instrument that has been mostly Anil’s up until that point. The tempo is off, restless. It doesn’t fit the accompaniment. Yet. Something shook Pin’s world, and she has yet to regain balance.

French kiss – Pentatonic flourish

In my last post, I promised to take a look at the pentatonic shenanigans that happen every time Anil and Pin are close. When Pin massages Anil. When Anil smells Pin’s hair. When Anil draws Pin close at the pond. When Anil kisses Pin in a way from which there is no return. Semi-quavers are drizzling on our eardrums, the measure is almost undeterminable.

Pin’s theme is back to its usual piano, but it's off beat now. Accomplished, less tame. Then Anil explains the French kiss to her and leans in a second time. The accompaniment narrows to one sequence that is repeated time and again, and once more there's Pin's theme, off beat. She has found her confidence. She is part of the music, and part of something even more beautiful.

Remember the other pin I was talking about earlier? How, during the butterfly kiss, Anil’s theme is played on the glockenspiel in a high octave? Well, during the French kiss, we can hear the first three notes of Anil’s theme, on the piano. Just as Pin has borrowed Anil’s instrument, Anil is now borrowing Pin’s, and even more importantly: they're on the same instrument now. Both of their themes are reduced to the first few notes, Anil's in a low octave that we haven't heard before. The low pitch has a calming quality. It provides the foundation for the last two high piano notes: the first note of Pin's theme, played twice. In my head, Pin is saying "I ... I ...," without even knowing how to finish that sentence, and instead giving up. Giving in.

Dear friends ... this show is so bloody beautiful! I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’ve spent way too much time revelling in the soundscape of this episode, and I regret nothing. If the show ended now, there would still be heaps of things to talk about. But it's not ending. It's just starting out and that is making my undescribably happy.

The fact that the premise of the show seems designed for me (sapphic, historical, South-East Asian) tells me that The Loyal Pin is not the most lucrative story to tell. To have hundreds of people dedicating time, work and skill into telling this story, supported by the Ministry of Commerce, no less, leaves me in tears. What a journey! Thank you for travelling with me!

#long post #sorry again for the quality of the soundclips #if I had recorded everything the way I wanted to #this post would have been published around christmas #if at all #thank you so much for reading #this show y'all #this show #the loyal pin #thai love you #Utsch choosing music

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the-fandom-crossroads · 10 months ago

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Just finished rewatching Advent Children with bro and wow that explained a lot more than I thought it would. Bro had never seen it and I remembered the white void showing up there and that the 3 villains were sephiroth clones. I completely forgot the other hints towards Remake.

But Spoilers for Remake and Rebirth I guess?

I now understand why everyone insists Remake Sephiroth is Advent Children Sephiroth. Like the exact same monologue about going to space with cloud. And Advent Children was him revealing this new bigger plan to cloud. If Remake Sephiroth was the original VII sephiroth he should still just want to use meteor because it's "mother's" will.

But like all that is old news for folks who remembered Advent Children when playing through Remake 4 years ago.

I think the things Rebirth builds on about the lifestream is more interesting. The pond that forms in Aerith's church in AC is a natural mako spring like the countless ones we find in rebirth. Flowers are able to grow there long after Aerith's death because of this spring just below the surface.

When Cloud "dies" in Advent Children he meets Aerith and Zack in the white void before they decide to put him back. He's released from the lifestream in the natural mako spring now in Aerith's church just like how Tifa is tossed back out when she enters with the whale.

Again for anyone who's recently watched AC it's obvious the white void is meant to represent the lifestream. But that means Rebirth is confirming the Lifestream is a bridge between the different universes. Zack enters the Lifestream and runs into Remake cloud who's also been pulled in. AC is all about how Sephiroth is still in the lifestream and that's how Kadaj is able to be possessed by him once he has enough Jenova cells. Cloud kills Sephiroth putting him back in the Lifestream. The Lifestream that connects all vii worlds.

AC Sephiroth then uses the lifestream to start appearing before a Cloud that has only just reached Midgar. His Meddling summons the whispers which fight back to keep things to the "cannon" timeline. Sephiroth of course tricks team Avalanche into destroying the head Whisper allowing him to take control of them. Again old news for anyone that knew Sephiroth wanted them to break the bonds of Fate.

But if Sephiroth is using the lifestream to mess with other worlds. it shouldn't be a surprise one of the Aerith's also already in the lifestream got involved too. As other's have pointed out the Aerith that gives cloud the not empty White materia isn't remake Aerith. But another Aerith that pulled him into that universe to give him a functioning white materia. But somehow Remake Aerith knew the hand over happened? Because in the white forest she asks cloud for the materia and they swap so she has a functioning white materia. That part confuses me a little. How did our Aerith know the handoff happened?

Also Rufus and Kadaj have a conversation about how everything's a cycle. That Jenova "Mother" will always try to destroy the planet and the lifestream/humanity will always fight back. Made me realize AC Sephiroth wasn't going back on his timeline to make a new one but hopping into the next timeloop. OG VII and Advent Children's cannon is locked in. Remake is truely that a remaking of the timeline made possible by Cloud and Co defeating the whispers that enforce the timeloops. So now instead of one spiral after another and infinite number of spirals are forming while the remake loop is still happening.

That's why Sephiroth waited until the *spoilers* cannon event to appear in Rebirth. It's an all the stars a line situation. All timeloops have that moment, regardless of how it's different in different versions.

But Rebirth's cannon event was just a test run. Sephiroth wanted to see how much power he could gain just from multiple timelines merging at one point.

Sephiroth already told us what he really wants. The Black materia but not the one from the remake universe no the ultimate black materia forged from all the black materia. And what's the next big plot point that could be a cannon event? Cloud's breakdown at the northern crater after handing the Black Materia over to Sephiroth. If there's any point where the timelines would over lap it would be there. We already saw the power boost Sephiroth got. If that power boost happens to the black Materia yeah that's a multiverse destroying meteor right there.

Wow was that a long wall of text about stuff everyone else probably already knows. But I just had to put all the clarity Advent Children gave me about Remake and Rebirth somewhere. Expect a spiral timeline graphic in the future. Cause I feel like i'm forgetting to explain some of it right.

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy vii rebirth #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #final fantasy vii advent children #ffvii advent children #rebirth spoilers #cloud strife #sephiroth #douglitheories

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lale-txt · 5 months ago

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𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 (𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤

♫ Soap&Skin - Safe With Me

No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me

✰ 𝐜𝐰: slightly suggestive themes in both SMAU & written portions

⭅ back to m.list

He kissed you once.

You’re sure he remembers it. You wish he wouldn’t.

Sometimes, when Akaashi is deeply focused on capturing every shape of you in coal and ink, he’d get this expression that makes you want to cry; a deep loneliness that’s hidden so deep down you’d scrape your fingertips trying to dig it up. It’s too familiar, like looking down the bottomless pond of his soul, dead water luring you in.

Sitting model for a bunch of spoiled rich art students has been by far the easiest job you ever had. You didn’t mind getting undressed for them; a body is just that–a body, a temporary home for your soul, a shield you carry with grace and the air of a silent threat. A few hours, three times a week, getting on the pedestal in the classroom like a fallen goddess climbing up the stairs to Mount Olympus to claim her rightful throne. Sitting, standing, lying down, it’s you who dictates how you want to be perceived that day, how you’ll allow them to lay their eyes on you, like an offering. They’re not chipping away from you, some of them don’t even see you.

But Akaashi does.

Love drunk. Longing. Lonely.

At times he feels like a cat, pawing at the window of your soul, begging to be let in. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. Every now and then you think about letting him catch a glimpse, just enough to scare him away, so he’d stop looking at you with those sad eyes of his. To prove him that you’re nothing like the version of yourself that he sculpted in his mind.

You’re not sure why you keep agreeing when he asks you to sit for him in the evening hours. It’s for the money, you tell yourself. Everyone who goes to this university must be well off, so you don’t feel too bad taking whatever absurd sum they’re offering to you to pose for a few more hours after regular classes.

It’s always the same, like a dance you memorize each and every step to. You know your way around this campus, having been here countless times and at different departments, but even after three years Akaashi would wait for you by the huge iron gate, leaning against the red brick wall and mindlessly fidgeting with his fingers, almost as if they’re itching to create something to calm his nervous system. He’s there, no matter the season or weather. It’s a ten minute walk from the gate to the east wing where his private atelier is at, and every time he already has a lighter in the pocket of shirt and a perfectly rolled cigarette behind his ear prepared for you. Sometimes, when you lean in to light it, his hands would tremble slightly when he cups the small flame to shield it from the wind for you.

Most of the time you do the talking–about new releases you got at the record store, any upcoming live shows you managed to get a guest list entry for, or whatever movie you watched the other day. Akaashi listens intently, his eyes always pinned on the path in front of you, only occasionally stealing a side glance at you, almost as if he’s saving those up for when the door of his atelier closes behind you two.

You still remember what his lips tasted like. A sweet oblivion, paired with the gentle caress of his palms against your face, so soft it made you want to cry more than you already did that night. Like a forbidden fruit offered to you on a silver platter.

The east wing of the uni building feels pretty abandoned and eerie quiet at times. You learned that all students were granted their own ateliers and the sculpting department had the bad luck of being assigned to what they call the catacombs, even though the rooms were on the second floor and not below surface. It’s probably thanks to the ancient hallways with the dark bricks and broken stained glass windows–once magnificent, today barely a shadow of what they once were. No matter the season, it was always cold here, too.

Akaashi’s atelier is a stark contrast to this. The high ceilings are plastered with sketches and notes, some polaroids of his friends, too. Blocks of clay and marble are scattered across the floor, some wooden blocks too, as if he needed every single material of the world to convey the story he wants to tell with his art. There’s an omamori from when they all visited the shrine for New Year’s together next to some dried flowers that you recognize from one of Yukie’s projects a few semesters ago. A dozen blankets are draped over the chaise lounge by the big window, the one where you usually take your position. In one corner stands a decorative paper screen that he put up for you to get changed behind, as if he didn’t spend hours studying every dip and curve of your body once you step out from behind it.

It feels homey and cozy. You hate to admit that.

Sometimes you’d stay here till past midnight. Akaashi lets you play your music over the small portable speaker while his pen scratches over the paper, his eyes darting back and forth between the sketchbook in his lap and your bare figure standing still for him. He never touches you when he asks you to shift your pose, his slender hands only ghosting over your skin, like a puppeteer pulling your strings. It feels almost reverent. He also never comments on the blemishes of your skin, the love bites and scratches and hickeys, but you can tell that he notices them, his eyes darkening for a split second before he’s back to his usual, calm composure.

At times you’d study his hands–his flawless, tender hands which look as if they never had to do dirty work even once–and you wonder how they’d feel wrapped around your throat, a quiet “Please” on the tip of your tongue.

“Have you thought about the theme of your final assignment yet?”, you ask, a cigarette dangling from your lips as you smoke by the open window. The blanket draped around your shoulders is warm and heavy, the material feels expensive. The ornamental carpet you’re standing on is one Akaashi got for you when he noticed how you shivered and shifted from one foot to the other during your cigarette breaks. You blow out a mouthful of smoke towards the night sky and look over to him. For someone as put together as him, with his dark green linen pants and the black button up shirt, his hair was always a bit unkempt, barely contained by his glasses pushed up into it.

“Phantom pain.”

His voice is quiet, almost not audible, but his gaze feels like it could spark a thousand small fires inside of you if you let him.

He kissed you once.

Your heart still aches from it.

•┈••✦ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

Problem Child Records has an attached rehearsal room which local bands can use for free (or in exchange for tickets to their upcoming shows)

the sofa in there has seen to many things (Issei and y/n are the biggest culprits)

Kunimi already has some practice in taking y/n's makeup off, she lets him do it whenever he sleeps over at the Ukai-Takeda househould and they do sheet masks together afterwards

Ukai & Takeda are high school volleyball coaches in this universe too and whenever they're off for training camps or tournaments, the remaining four are in charge of the store (usually Kiyoko is handling things best)

Akaashi doesn't smoke but he knows how to roll a mean cigarette (Kuroo taught him)

we bless Yukie for her service (putting pretty men in lingerie)

i haven't decided who the Semi's drummer in question is yet and i'm taking suggestions in the comments

•┈••✦ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@wyrcan @spacekedi @kentocalls @hhoneyhan @walllflowerrrsss

@rory-cakes @jaynawayna @zq13

taglist open! dm/ask/comment to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

#akaashi x reader #hq smau #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #hq x you #haikyuu smau #haikyuu reader insert

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pekoehoneyncream · 4 months ago

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Ghoaptober # 27

Prompt: Fear

Words: 500~

TW: None (sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

Really short one today

Enjoy!

Ghost could admit to himself that he was afraid of a great many things, he never let that fear stop him from doing what he had to do, but he felt that fear all the same. One thing that he wasn’t afraid of was snakes. He had no reason to be. They were just animals following their instincts, if he left them alone they’d leave him alone. It was a good deal, but one certain Scottish naga had apparently missed the memo.

He was nattering on to Ghost now, talking about how some recruit had made another joke about St. Patrick having missed one, and acting completely innocent of any wrongdoing, despite the way his tail was slowly sliding closer to Ghost, steadily wrapping around the base of the Lieutenant’s chair. He was always doing something similar, standing too close, sitting pressed against Ghost’s side, and curling up at the bottom of Ghost’s bed anytime he was allowed. The cold-blooded freak trying to steal the warmth from Ghost that he couldn’t produce himself.

“-like it’s no’ a clever joke either, Ah’m no’ Irish an’ this isnae Ireland-”

“Soap.” Ghost cuts over the naga before he can work himself back up, “You’re crushing my feet,”

It wasn’t too far off the truth, Soap’s coils had circled in on him until they were draped on top of each other a couple layers deep and all that weight was piled atop of Ghost’s boots.

“Oh!” Soap exclaimed with passable surprise, and whipped his tail back to himself so fast Ghost was shocked his chair wasn’t sent spinning like a beyblade. “Ah’m sorry, L.T. Didnae mean to.”

It was the same explanation he always gave, and as always Ghost easily dismissed it.

“S’fine, just don’t squish me,” Ghost’s implied permission lit Soap up brighter than Trafalgar Square on christmas and his tail darted back to it’s place entrapping Ghost’s chair and, subsequently, Ghost.

Those tawny-gold scales gleaming improbably brightly under the base’s disagreeable fluorescents, the warm-brown of the markings speckled over his back rippling in entrancing patterns. Pulling Ghost in like quicksand.

“Kaylins?” Ghost prompted, and Soap gifted him a bright long-fanged smile.

“Aye,” He musters himself, “Private Kaylins was runnin’ worse than a heifer on an ice-pond an’ lookin’ jus’ as coordinated. An’ Ah said tae him tha’-”

Ghost ostensibly turns his focus back to the sisyphean back-log of paperwork, that he was dutifully helping Price work through, but the whole of his attention truly rested on Soap. Watching and memorizing every expression he twisted his face into. Mesmerized by how he threw himself into his retelling with such fervor that it rippled through his whole body. His arms swinging, hands gesturing, his torso rearing, and contractions juddering down his tail that sent tremors rocking up the legs of Ghost’s chair.

Gently clamping his left hand around the bold tail-tip that had ventured over his knee to creep into his lap, Ghost waved off Soap’s stuttered wary hesitation and picked up his pen to actually buckle down to work, letting the welcome shower of Soap’s chatter wash over him.

Thank You For Reading!

The only idea I had going into this was Naga!Soap and it shows.

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

#ghoaptober #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #pekoehoneyncream #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #john mactavish #naga soap #naga au #human ghost

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doverstar · 1 year ago

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A paltry 3 people have asked me to expand on my opinion that Clara (who I like) is bad for the Doctor, so here I go below.

Strap in, this will be long. I disliked Clara back when her tenure was happening live, but upon rewatching the show now, with my husband, I completely changed my mind and grew to really appreciate her and cried when she died. I like Clara. But I came to this conclusion you’re about to read during that rewatch. In a nutshell, Clara and the Doctor’s relationship is unhealthy. Stop wait let me explain-

*hands you the nutshell* First. The show itself acknowledges that this Doctor/companion relationship is something unprecedented and ugly and bad for both of them towards the end. Why? Is it Clara? YES AND NO children. Clara as a companion, personality-wise, is not different from or more special than many Classic Who companions, and Jenna Coleman is ridiculously likeable as Clara. I know Clara is The Impossible Girl (because Moffat can’t write 100% ordinary people), and I know she has met all of the Doctors up to Twelve at least once, but take away her decision to throw herself into his timeline – take away the fact that the Master literally orchestrated events so that Clara and the Doctor would travel together because their personalities would create something dangerous and unhealthy in the end – and Clara herself really is just a twenty-something who wants to travel and acts like she’s the coolest person in the room. So Clara herself on the surface wasn’t the catalyst for the relationship becoming unhealthy. At least not the way she was written in the beginning. At first, it’s the Doctor making big Red Flag decisions. And I say that with so much love towards Matt Smith’s Doctor, who is dearly missed in these trying times. The Doctor meets the first version of Clara (from his perspective) as a barmaid/nanny in 20th century London. She’s exceptional (and unnecessarily flirty because Moffat can’t write women who don’t lust after the protagonist) and the Doctor invites her to travel with him. This is huge because the Doctor has just spent who-knows-how-long mourning the Ponds, who he was not ready to lose and who he had grown increasingly afraid of losing before he lost them. He sits on a cloud and has sworn off of travelling or helping anyone because he is that sick of losing people. He’s hurting and he doesn’t want to go through something like that again. The Ponds were just the latest in a very long line of lost people—remember, directly before Amy and Rory, the Doctor had to say goodbye to Donna, Martha, Wilf, Mickey, Jackie, Jack Harkness, Sarah Jane Smith oh my goodness, and Rose Tyler. And then he loses the Ponds. It’s agony. And it just keeps happening to him over and over again, and the Eleventh Doctor is especially vulnerable because he’s so tender-hearted and raw from Tennant’s losses, and this is the first time he’s lost companions with this face. The Eleventh Doctor is literally described by Moffat as the incarnation of the Doctor who chooses to forget. He’s consistently not addressing things like Gallifrey, the Time War, Rose, Donna, Martha, etc. When he’s reminded of them, the only thing he really reacts with is a strained admission of guilt (Let’s Kill Hitler and The Doctor’s Wife, anyone?). Eleven does not focus on what he has lost and worked really, really, selfishly-at-times hard to preserve the safety of the Ponds in particular. And then he loses them and throws a Doctor pity party on a cloud in a top hat.

Enter Nanny Clara, and she reminds him of what he’s missing and how things should be and helps him get his mojo back. Great, good. But she also reminds him of this one chick in the Dalek Asylum who begged the Doctor for help and was already dead. And the Doctor not only loves a mystery, but hates losing (losing people in particular). So he invites this Clara to come away with him and begin his never-ending adventure all over again, because she seems perfect for the job. And then she dies. Just like Oswin the crazy Dalek. Just like Amy and Rory, and the DoctorDonna, and Rose Tyler on the list of fatalities during the incident at Canary Wharf. Like Adric. But the Doctor doesn’t give up and pout in the 20th century this time. Instead, he gets determined to figure out what is connecting Nanny Clara and Dalek Clara, and determined to find a version of this mystery girl who can travel with him and not die this time. Third time’s the charm.

He finds Clara Oswald in the present, saves her life, freaks her out with his desperation to befriend her, and then she finally comes away with him. It’s played incredibly sweet specifically because it’s the Doctor trying to entice a companion and working for it, because he’s already seen she’s the one—twice—and is determined to keep her. This is an inversion of what usually happens, which is that the companion has to prove themselves worthy of the position to the Doctor during a meet-cute adventure. Classy. Fun. But we see from that point forward that the Doctor is kind of…weirdly obsessed with Clara. And not just because she’s appeared as three different-but-the-same people in his life lately, but because he’s the man who forgets and he lost people and never deals with that, and now he has this girl who he’s been unable to save twice before and he wants to make sure that doesn’t happen again. What’s worse, Clara becomes “the ultimate companion”, saving the Doctor throughout all his lifetimes by jumping into his timeline so she’s technically companion to all of him at one point. This is bad because not only is it not fair (as the gamers call it, it’s OP, yes I’m hip with the kids) it solidifies to the Doctor that she is the culmination of all his past failures in companion tenures.

She’s not the ultimate companion; she’s the ultimate do-over.

He’s obsessed with keeping Clara safe. He’s obsessed with keeping her with him. It’s not because Clara is this gorgeous, super-special, Not Like Other Girl(s). It’s not because he’s madly in love with her (though Moffat wants repeatedly to be able to imply that without properly saying it because he can’t write a female who is not in lust with the protagonist, hey let go of my soapbox I’m using that-). It’s not even because he lost two Claras previously and he feels really bad about that. It's because he’s projecting every single failure to keep a companion onto this one girl. The Doctor is trying so hard not to be controlled by the circumstances around him. He is trying so hard to keep this one, just this one, with him this time that he kind of turns into a withdrawal maniac when she’s in danger or choosing to do anything other than travel with him. The Master (Missy) orchestrated events so that Clara and the Doctor would be able to travel together because it was obvious the two of them would destroy each other in the end. The Doctor was such a person (Eleven) at such a time in his long life that could not stand the idea of losing one more friend and would do anything to keep history from repeating itself. He has to have Clara. He can’t quit Clara. She’s all of them. She’s everyone. And poor Clara—Clara is great, but being with the Doctor brings out only the worst in her. The woman is obsessed with herself. She was better off before he came around! Keeping pace with the Doctor, traveling the universe with him, feeling like she had something with him no one else could touch—all of that inflated her sense of importance; she has to be special. She has to be in control. She’s bossy and confident and as long as the Doctor is around, she’s the most incredible human being in her species and he is lucky to have her. That’s how he makes her feel—because it’s obvious he can’t let her go. (“Traveling with you made me feel really special.”) And worse, Clara can’t let him go—but not even specifically the Doctor. The Doctor, to Clara, is only as valuable as he makes her feel. It’s very sad because the two of them are kind of convinced they’re best friends and that’s why they’re together, but that’s not it. They’re not best friends. They’re toxic.

(Best friends do not trick other best friends, lie to them, threaten their way of life and only home to get their boyfriends back and then say “I’m sorry but I’d do it again”. Best friends do not notice that their best friend is there for them in spite of that line of action and then still disregard their best friend’s safety and needs in order to get what they themselves want above all else. Death in Heaven, I hate you.) And! Clara was so rattled by Eleven changing into Twelve. The sweet young man who flirted with her and made her feel so romantically important was gone, now there’s this grisly old fella who is rude to her and makes disparaging personal remarks about her physical appearance, and who doesn’t like hugs. But they’re not done. Because now the relationship has changed even further—we went from “he likes me and he should because I am Important” and “she’s staying with me and she should because I am gonna keep her safe and it won’t be like last time(s) and that’s why she’s special, that’s why she’s Impossible” to “I’m with him because he needs me and because I am Important like he is” and “she’s staying with me and she should because I am gonna keep her safe and she’s still special and she’s still Impossible and I can’t lose her no matter what”.

Clara is controlling and the Doctor is controlling. Missy would have you believe the Doctor won’t be controlled, but that’s just another form of control. The Doctor can’t stop travelling with Clara. Twelve will not let her rest, Twelve will not let her die. Clara will not stay home, Clara will not put anyone or anything else before herself, before traveling and saving the day and feeling special. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where the Doctor treats Clara with such reverence, she actually believes she’s 100% his equal and should be him. That was not a typo. I did not say she should be like him. I said she thinks she should be him. It gets worse and worse as time goes on. Clara thinks she can be the Doctor. She can travel anywhere, she can do whatever she wants, and she will always win. Because she’s important. Because she’s special. She doesn’t realize that she can’t, and that that’s not who the Doctor is anyway. And the Doctor watches Clara get eaten up by this addiction to travel, addiction to heroics. Clara loses Danny and that’s her last tether to normal life. It’s sad because Danny was twice the man anybody expected him to be and he was almost there, almost good enough for Clara to stay and be safe with. But the Doctor and time and space are a tough act to follow, and when Danny died, Clara felt she was owed better. She wasn’t angry because Danny was young and she loved him and she wanted better for him. She was angry because as a time traveling hero, she deserved to have her boyfriend alive and not hit by an ordinary car in the middle of an ordinary day on Earth. (But she wouldn’t have stayed with him anyway, and she wasted so much time with him treating him like he wasn’t special enough and then it was too late. If the Doctor had not been part of the equation, treating her like she hung the stars and making her believe it, they could have been happy. She could have been okay.)

More adventures, more close calls. At this point everything likeable about Clara in the past has faded away because she is just not the same person anymore. She’s ruined. And it’s her fault, and it’s the Doctor’s fault. Clara isn’t addicted to travel or heroics. Now she’s addicted to feeling important. She’s addicted to being special. And she needs to feel that so badly that she decides she is the Doctor and can do what he does and ignores the danger and ignores the rules and the risks and what it might do to the Doctor to lose her, and she faces the stupid raven. This girl legit dies a painful, scary death because she thought she could do whatever she wanted, control every situation, and it couldn’t possibly turn out badly because she’s Clara Oswald, the Impossible Girl. Did the Doctor ever give her any idea that that wasn’t true? Didn’t he worship the ground she marched on? She dies for it. And the Doctor, bless his poisoned hearts, cannot handle it. No way, it is not happening again. Not Clara! He’s avoided her death every other time. It’s not even about Clara anymore—Clara is actually a pretty rotten friend to the Doctor at this point; he’s nothing to her, not really, just a means to an end (and you can tell because when push comes to shove, she will choose herself and time and space over him, and over any sense at all, but if anyone asks, that’s her best friend and do you know why? because it’s very special to be the Doctor’s best friend). It’s not about her, it’s about them. About Adric, and River, and Rose, and Donna, and Tegan and Susan and Ace and Vicki. It’s about Ian and Barbara and Wilfred Mott. Not this time, universe! Not this time, Clara! "I have a duty of care." "Which you take very seriously, I know." Twelve goes through the most contrived, horrendous, comically-lengthened torture Moffat can think of (Heaven Sent) and comes out on the other side only to bring Clara back from the dead. Think of that. The woman is actually very long dead at this point and the Doctor braves literal Gallifrey to pull her out of the moment before the end. He breaks every single rule he has ever, ever had. And he does it violently, are you telling me for real that Clara is the best companion for him? She drives him to do right, to be the greatest he can be? She helps, she brings him back to who he’s always tried to be? No she doesn’t. She drives him to total depraved madman status because they can’t quit each other, and no, not the cutesy quippy Madman With A Box type of madman.

What makes Clara so different from all the other people the Doctor had to lose and who remained lost? Nothing at all. Nothing except that the Doctor decided this one isn’t going anywhere. Because she is every companion to him. This poor woman has a sack full of the Doctor’s past-companion baggage tied to her back but to her it feels light, because he treats it outwardly like a pedestal. So he “brings her back” and she figures out what he’s done and what he went through to do it, and they both learn that their relationship is actually so toxic that together, they would destroy the universe just to have what they want. Because that’s what they bring out in each other. The Doctor has to keep Clara safe, and Clara has to be special. They’re so unhealthy it affects everything around them, to the point where the Time Lords literally have a name for their destructive dynamic in their prophecies called the Hybrid (go lie down, Moffat). And the Master knew that because Time Lord…stuff…and deliberately ensured that Clara and the Doctor get together.

Luckily the Doctor is still, somewhere, miraculously, himself—so he recognizes at last that this is going too far and it’s bad, it’s all bad. The only solution, because he still can’t just return Clara to her fate, is to wipe her memory (hello Donna) of him so that they aren’t together but she also doesn’t have to die. So that he still doesn’t have to deal with losing people. And then the very worst part, writing-wise, happens. Clara complains and decides she must be allowed her memories, she’s entitled to them (too special to lose her memories!) but goodie for her, she doesn’t lose them. The Doctor, instead, loses his memories of her. Now, this is ultimately a good thing for him because of the horse I beat to death over there, don’t make eye contact, but—how sad is it that he still has to lose? That he still can’t keep someone, even after all that carnage? The healing process is beginning and he’ll be a better man than ever after this, but take a moment to mourn because that really sucks for him.

Okay here’s the worst part—Clara lives. And not only does Clara live, Clara lives forever. Clara is immortal. Clara gets her own Tardis. Clara gets her own immortal companion! (Ashildr.) Who learned something? Anyone? Not Clara! Who grew as a person around here? No one? Not Clara! Poor Clara Oswald, who started out nicely enough and likeable enough, at least on level with Classic Who companions, is ruined in the end. She gets exactly what she wants. She’s the Ultimate Companion! She’s met all the Doctors. He even fancied her at one point, well, how could he not? She didn’t die, she didn’t learn anything, she didn’t even really grow, she just got worse. Danny died and the Doctor lost, but Clara got to keep her memories, lose her mortality, and gain her own infinite time travelling machine. She became the Doctor. Yippee. Neither of them were made better by the other’s company. Rose Tyler said more than once, at least in three different ways, that the Doctor’s influence, that the opportunity to travel in time and space and help, brings out the extraordinary qualities ordinary people already have. He taps into their potential to be better, even better than him sometimes. The human factor, I call it. And they inspire him to be better, which is important for someone who is essentially immortal and can essentially go anywhere and do anything he likes. Wilfred said it, too, that Donna was better with the Doctor. But the codependency, the noxious way the Doctor and Clara interacted with each other—their whole relationship—it’s devoid of that improving quality. It wasn’t at first, at least not on Clara’s side, but that’s what it turned out to be. At least Moffat acknowledges that in Hell Bent, but he does it more in a way that is trying to communicate to you that that’s how deep and special the Doctor and Clara’s relationship is, isn’t it so important, isn’t it the best companion/Doctor relationship ever? Isn’t she hot, isn’t he whipped? Have you ever seen such devotion? Gag me. He doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing. He’s just trying to win the 60-year-long companion race. And Clara and the Doctor both suffer for it.

I still like Clara. I blame the writing entirely for how things turned out, because I genuinely, really enjoyed her this last rewatch, and I wish that she’d met a better end. I wish she’d stayed with Danny and figured out what Danny was trying to tell her all along—that normal life is precious and worth it, and worth giving up the big sparkly universe for if you find someone else to live for besides yourself. I wish she’d sacrificed herself to save the Doctor in the present, not just throughout his past, because she proved that at one point she was capable of that. I wish she’d come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t control everything, couldn’t have what she wanted every time, and then chose to learn from that and use what she could control for the benefit of others (including the Doctor). I wish she’d gotten out the way Martha had gotten out. And I really, really wish the Doctor hadn’t had to prolong the pain he was always going to feel when someone else had to say goodbye. Anyway, that’s the essay a trifling three lovely people asked me for. Not really an essay, just word vomit. If you read it all, please let me know what you think! I could be wrong.

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