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descendantsramblings · 22 days

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Just a short cute thing where Fem! Reader and Maleficent are dating and Mal just loves teasing her gf by turning into her dragon form in small

Pure fluff, thank u :>

“Short cute” is speaking my language rn. So glad to be back to writing long stuff but between these and writing a layout for a Dead Boy Detectives fic I needed a good head canon or Drabble 🖤

Also I wrote and edited this whole thing while on the clock at work so forgive me if something is a little odd, I HATE typing on mobile because it’s easier to get typos.

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Maleficent x Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: watching her girlfriend study can get just so boring

Warnings: descriptions of Maleficent turning into a dragon but it’s really nothing (at least as a horror and body horror fan it’s absolutely nothing but I’ll warn you just in case), fluff

Word Count: 1.1K

Pic because finding gifs of my girl (who’s almost always background or literally on Hades lol) is so hard

She can’t say no one warned her. Of course, Maleficent thought her girlfriend hung the sun, she was humanities own light source. All aglow when she was excited and warm enough that the dark fae was constantly convinced she had a fever. She was obsessed with her, but that doesn’t mean the rest of her friends lied when they said dating a hero kid could get so boring. Not that (Y/n) in general was boring, it was actually pretty easy to get her running around with the villains, but when she felt like being good? She could get obnoxiously good. Like straight As helping out in soup kitchens type of good. Which if the pixie was honest, she found that side of her girlfriend extremely endearing. Sometimes she even wonders if that sweet half of her is what saw Maleficent as worthy for her. Not that she’d ever admit to that out loud, it would wreck her image. If the fact that she could watch the girl complete mundane tasks in complete infatuation didn’t already kill her image. Or at least she normally could watch her like that.

The girl had been studying for an hour, rewriting her notes in a decorative and color coded way that she swore made it easier for her to study. “Rewriting it makes me think about it harder, Mali. Engraves it into my memory.” It sounded like an excuse to her, seemed to her that the girl just liked to look at pretty things. Not that she minded, whatever she wanted to do was fine by her, (Y/n) was her own woman. And Maleficent loved to be the pretty thing she was looking at, so who was she to complain about other ones? But Mali was starting to wonder if she and Tinkerbell had something in common. If she didn’t get her girlfriend’s attention soon she was sure she’d just fall over and just die. She was growing weaker by the second, she was positive of that. And getting the girl’s attention away from swirling pretty calligraphy into a notebook was proving to be impossible.

Every nuzzle to her neck was met with a playful push. Kissing her face just earned the pixie a “Mali, doll, I’m working.” It was infuriating. Why let her in if (Y/n) only planned on ignoring her? Her pale arms make their way around the princess’ waist, face falling against the girl’s back with a dramatic sigh. “I’m almost done, Doll. Just two more pages.” Two more? That won’t do, she needs more attention now. “Come on,” she drags the word out pulling away from her girlfriend with a whine. “Since when are you so good?” “I’ve always been good, Doll. You’re the villain between us, remember?” She uncaps a different pen, readjusting the notebook before her. “You don’t seem so good when you’re out running around with me and the other VKs. You ask how high when Uliana says just just like Morgie does.” It gets her a hum, pen tapping against the page in the speedy pattern. “Yeah well, if I make Uli happy she’ll do my hair. No one else here can braid like she can.” Mali laughs, “Fine, then if we can’t cuddle, let’s go see if she’ll do your hair. Give me something.” “I’ll be done soon.” She scoffs, lightly smacking the back of the girl’s shoulder, “You said you were doing homework.” (Y/n)’s eyes roll, sparing the girl a look over her shoulder, “Studying is homework, Mali.” Now her eyes roll, throwing herself back on the bed, “This isn’t studying. Studying is reading over notes, this is some other thing.” She hums, “Maybe that’s why my grades are higher than yours.” It’s a playful remark, the girl poking her tongue out at the pixie before turning back to her work.

She wants to play? Okay, they can play. She cuts a look to the girl, a pen cap held loosely in her mouth as she delicately drags a pen brush across a page. She was distracted enough. Turning into a large dragon took far too much energy from her, but a small one? One that could fit right in the girl’s lap? That was easy. Maleficent could barely feel it as her bones gave way. Shoulder blades and vertebrae stretching out to form the structure of wings. Purple scales forcing their way through pale skin, tearing their way into veins to beseen. She hasn’t let wings of any kind come out in so long, it felt heavenly. The stretch making her suppress a whimper. She desperately needed to do this more, instead of just when she felt the need to harass her way into getting what she wants.

Slowly, careful not to make too much noise, she flaps her wings, once, twice. By the third time, when she realized the sound wasn’t alerting (Y/n), she knew she could take flight. Fluttering through the dorm, she lands on the girl’s dresser, blowing a small puff of flames onto a candle then settling beside it. Waiting, glowing green eyes trained on the girl who had playfully become her prey. The smell of smoke would alert her, it always did. Lilac and smoke slowly and softly fill the air, making the princess look up, worried eyes glancing around the room before landing on her dresser. “Really? You’re that desperate for me?” Desperate? No, she was anything but that. While her eyes are away from the page, Maleficent takes flight again, swooping up the pens the girl was using before fluttering over her head.

“Mali, you’re just prolonging how long it will be before I can lay back and cuddle with you. You know that, right?” Her hand shoots up for her pens and the dragon flies closer to the ceiling. “This is ridiculous, you are being ridiculous.” Pens clatter into the wastebasket by the girl’s desk, the dragon swooping in to fill the girl’s lap before she can get up to retrieve them. “Are all fae this needy or just you?” The question is met with a nuzzle against her stomach, the dragon refusing to get too close to her skin in case she’d scratch the delicate stretch of flesh.

Sighing, the girl closes her two notebooks, pushing them to the side before she lays back. “If I take a little study break will you let me finish my work without whining?” The dragon crawls up her stomach, tilting her head to the side. Sweeten the deal. “If we cuddle?” Letting out a sigh, Mali curls up on the girl’s chest, her head laying just so close to her heart she feels as if she’s hearing the lubb-Dubb of it in her own head. “You’re not gonna turn back into a girl for me? Made you wait so long that I only deserve scales?” It’s not a complaint, not a real one at least. Her nails digging into the space between two wings, a glorious scratching sensation that makes Maleficent’s eyes lull closed. She was never above playing if the Royal wanted to play. She was always the winner of the girl’s long games.

#descendants #descendants imagines #descendants rise of red #descendants fanfiction #descendants x reader #maleficent descendants #maleficent x reader

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ahfrickenfrick · 2 years

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dsmp as a play? hold my fucking shit, I’ve been thinking about this for TWO YEARS (as someone who did theater for like 12 years)

I absolutely adore the idea of some people seeing the audience and interacting with them and some don’t.

Especially the people who talk to chat a lot during the lore. (Techno, Phil, Tommy, etc.) but I also adore the thought that they gradually become more aware of the audience.

Like Niki for example, she doesn’t talk to the audience or like make them feel involved with her until she’s burning down l’mantree

I want Connor to be in the audience audibly reacting to everything on stage, maybe he even throws popcorn when like Wilbur presses the button and Charlie is just chilling observing everything and becoming more and more aware of the show

Whenever Eret is on stage it’s soft music playing, building up the more they are on until the betrayal happens, subtle and not really noticeable

a Technoblade monologue being performed to the audience, it’s articulate, it’s attention holding, the lighting is dramatic, and Tommy is to the side trying to figure out who tf he’s talking to

Pogtopia Wilbur gets a little more ragged every time he comes on stage, the lighting gets more and more eerie, and it’s the same lighting used in the control room.

DONT GET ME STARTED ON EXILE OH MY FUCK

I think Tommy would talk to the audience more during exile, becoming more aware of them the longer he’s alone. Maybe Dream catches him talking to the audience and takes away his tools again, but they are the only consistent thing in his life, so he continues talking to them.

THE YHINGS I WOULD DO TO DESIGN ERETS COSTUMES

The EGG DUDES, slowly through scenes they grow more and more obvious, maybe it starts out with a simple rose that grows vines and AHSHWKDJDI

SAM NOOK. Making Sam Nook a hand puppet that the actor who plays Awesamdude uses.

There are definitely so many like sad and angsty stuff to put in but like im just thinking about funny stuff.

Tubbo constantly looks at the Audience and gives them the Jim from the Office stare™️, but only until he becomes president and then he suddenly stops doing it.

Ranboo would also be really interesting, cause they talk to themselves a LOT, like their character specifically. Maybe when they aren’t talking they are watching the audience, pulling out their notebook to take notes.

God have you guys looked at stage fighting? Like genuine good stage fighting? Imagine that with the dsmp. I’m so normal about this and everything

When Techno goes into retirement he literally gets off the stage and joins the audience, tsking at stuff and writing shit down in a book, but never getting involved until he gets pulled back in.

DOING THR SCAR MAKEUP WOULD BR SO COOL SNDKEEJR

Anyways yes im ranting and not really sober rn so i hope this makes sense

#dream smp #AS A PLAY #DO YOU HEAR ME YELLING #it’s literally a rant im so sorry #technoblade #tommyinnit #niki nihachu #wilbur soot #connoreatspants #charlie slimecicle #sam nook #eret myct #ranboo

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months

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Don't Speak 27

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: stuff is going on at work (I'm not in trouble) but it's kinda dramatic rn so...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Dr. Kemp walks in with a cup of tea and puts it in front of you. He insisted on making it for you and you were too hazy to deny him. You're still reeling from your session with Andy and now you're struggling to reset before your one-on-one.

He smiles and backs away, slipping your journal from the table where you left it and bringing it to you. You take it as he claims the vacated armchair across from you.

"So," he leans an arm on the chair casually, "I know it's been a long morning. We'll try not to overwhelm ourselves, yes?"

You nod and look down at the journal. You're already there. You feel like folding over and shutting down.

"How are you feeling? Is it a lot?"

You swallow and mouth a 'yes', too weak to get much out. You can feel him watching you. You can't even look back at him.

"Right, I guess... there are some things we need to delve into. For your own good."

"Okay," you croak, resting your journal in your lap.

"Have some tea, get settled," he suggests.

You reach forward, keeping a hand on the notebook as you take the mug. You blow over the steam and inhale the scent. It smells different.

"I brought it with me, I hope you like apple cinnamon," he says.

Finally, your eyes flick up and meet his. He watches you expectantly so you take a dainty sip. You hum, it's tasty.

"Thank you," you say and put the cup back on the table.

"Not at all," he runs his fingers along the armrest, "I have a very sensitive question for you."

Your brows draw together. You stare at his neck. He takes a breath, chest rising and falling.

"How much experience do you have in intimate relationships?" He asks.

The room goes stolid as you blink. He waits as you clutch the book tight, nearly bending the hard cover. Your lip twitches and your lashes flutter.

"I..."

"I know it can be hard, but we need to talk about these things. It's obvious you have some shame associated with that part of your life and self. That's not healthy but we can't treat you if you don't talk about it," he explains, "so, you don't need to tell me everything. That's something else you can put in your journal, okay?"

"Okay," you agree, "I can do that."

"But I still want an answer. There are some things I do need to know," he prompts.

You hang your head. You bite your lip deep as you weigh how to say it. Really, it's simple.

"None," you murmur, staring at your toes, "no one wants me."

He hums thoughtfully, "maybe not before, but you must see now that that's changed. I think it's obvious how Andy feels... isn't it?"

You nod again, a lump in your throat.

"But let's not focus on him, let's talk about you. Just you. Is there anything that you've done... alone?" He leans forward, just a little.

You blanch, breathless as the room tilts. You know what he means. You can't believe it. He's only trying to help, right? He is a doctor after all.

You grab the mug, comforting yourself with the hot porcelain. You part your lips and close your eyes. Just be honest, he's not there to judge you. He might even be able to help you.

"Yes," you utter tightly, "not... much. I... I was scared... so... just a little... touch."

You hear him inhale, "right, good. Thank you for your honesty."

Your eyes snap open, "your welcome."

"Let's go over your homework," he stands and you shrink down just slightly.

You watch him as he slowly crosses the room. He has very nice eyes, you think, and his hair looks soft. There's something about him that is welcoming in that moment.

"Just a second, okay, sweetheart?" He holds up a finger.

You force a half-smile and wait as he leaves the room. He comes back with a small plastic bag. It's black and unmarked. You've never seen a bag like that.

"May I sit?" He approaches the couch. You wave to the cushion quietly, "so, this is what you're going to work on. If you're going to get more comfortable in your relationship, you have to get more comfortable with yourself." He puts the bag on top of your journal, "you can use that to... explore yourself."

You look down and stare. He laughs again, softly. "Go on and look, it's yours."

You hesitantly touch the seam of the bag. You trace your fingers to the top and lift up the edge. Your eyes widen as you see the small silver shape in plastic packaging. You think you know exactly what it is.

"I can't..." you begin.

"You don't have to use it but you do need to... experiment with yourself. It's healthy." He says, "but if you need it... you have it now."

You move the bag under your journal as if to hide it. You give a noncommittal nod.

"And you can write down how you feel after," he offers, "oh, and... I can give you my email? If you have questions outside our typical sessions. How about that?"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a burgundy pen, "can I put it in your journal?"

You bite down and reluctantly put down your mug. You open your notebook to a blank page and hand it to him. He puts down his email and shuts the book, putting it back in your lap.

"You did a really good job," he gently brushes his knuckles down your sleeve, "what happened to that purple sweater? I haven't seen you in it."

You shrug, "Andy liked this better..."

"Well, you shouldn't wear what Andy likes, you should wear what makes you feel nice," he gives a tug on the sleeve and draws away, standing with a groan, "well, I think you've had enough of me. Go enjoy your tea, doctor's order."

You look up at him. You slide forward and take your mug, standing with trepidation as you watch him. He smells like a forest. You like it.

"See you next week, right?"

"Sure, next week," you agree before turning away. You're just happy to get some time alone. You feel like you haven't had much of that lately.

🕊️

"Dove," Andy's timbre undercuts the chirpy tones of your music. You look at the door and lower the pen from your tablet, tapping pause as your dread returns, "Steve's heading out. Why don't you come say goodbye?"

You put your tablet aside and push yourself heavily across the bed. You stand and drag your feet, the handle rattle before you can reach it. Andy opens the door from the other side.

"Sorry, I was drawing," you murmur.

"That's fine," he says, "he asked me to come get you."

"Alright," you shrug.

Andy's eyes fall to your new outfit; the one you'd chosen yourself that morning. You see the small twitch at the corner of his lips. You move past him as if to outrun his ire.

You go downstairs and find Dr. Kemp by the door, buttoning up his black wool jacket. He has a scarf around his neck and you recall the redness in his cheeks upon his arrival. You peer out the narrow pane beside the door.

"Is it very cold out?" You ask.

"Probably even colder now," he smiles with good humour, "I never mind it. Favourite time of year."

"Oh," you bounce on your feet, "Amber always says it's hot chocolate season."

He chuckles, "that's a good way of looking at it. Hot chocolate; I'll have to remember that next time I come."

"Oh, uh, no, you don't have to–"

"I didn't say I have to, but I want to," he assures, "you a marshmallow girl? Or you like whipped cream?"

You can't help a smile of your own, "either."

"Alright, I'll bring both," he promises, "I'm sure Andrew will stick with his dark roast."

Andy growls but doesn't argue.

"Well I see I've overstayed my welcome," Kemp says, "I'll leave you two alone. Oh, Andy," he continues as he checks his watch, "what did you need me to bring for Thanksgiving? You said no to the peach cobbler so I have to learn how to make something else."

"Bring whatever," Andy replies dismissively.

"Oh, now he changes his tune," he scoffs, "what's your favourite?" Kemp looks at you. "For thanksgiving?"

You think and suddenly feel very sad. You remember the little dinners you would have with Amber, just the two of you. She always made you your favourite dish even if it wasn't very traditional.

"Banana pudding," you eke out grimly, "but… it's not very seasonal, I guess."

"But delicious," he says, "you okay?"

"Yeah, I… I'm fine," you fold your hands in front of you, trying not to let your homesickness seep through. "I… I'll see you next time."

"Sure thing," he winks, "Andrew," he nods and shakes the other man's hand, "you take care of her. She's had a long day."

You stand, spaced out, his silhouette blurring as you hear the door open and close. You just want to lay down and not think. You don't even have the energy left to draw.

"Dove," Andy touches your sleeve, "what's going on?"

"Nothing, tired," you lie.

"Alright," he accepts dully, "maybe you should relax like he said. How about I run you a bath?"

You don't answer. You pass him and head up the stairs. You can't tell him the truth, you know it'll make him mad. You don't want banana pudding, you want Amber's banana pudding.

"Hey, talk to me," he follows you, "a nice bubble bath sounds nice, doesn't it? It'll help take the tension out."

"Fine," you mutter as you get to the top of the stairs and turn down the hall.

"Is that it? No thanks?" He says tersely.

"I'm sorry," you face him just as you get to your door, "thank you, Andy, I really appreciate it."

"Do you? I thought we were making progress."

"We…are," you frown.

"Uh huh, is that why you brought her up?" He challenges. You shake your head. "Amber… you mentioned her and now you're all upset about it."

You push your lip out, "I miss her."

"You're better off here, where you can get better."

"I know but… she's still my sister."

"Right, and how much do you think she cares? She's got a whole house to herself now. And you've got one too," he gestures to the walls, "you have to stop thinking of that place as home, this is your home," he insists, "so go grab some PJs and I'll get the tub going."

You dip your head. You’re just sad, you wish he would realise it’s not his fault. That you’re lost and you always have been. You don’t know who you are or where you belong.

“Thanks,” you whisper and turn to open the bedroom door.

“Grab some of your new pajamas,” he says.

You go inside and open the dresser. You didn’t fail to notice that it found its way back flush to the wall. That must’ve been when Andy took your journal. That thought bites at your sadness, instead sparking your anger. You still can’t understand why he would do that.

You stop as you open the drawer and stare inside. You sift through the neatly folded clothes. A frilly pink nightie, another pair of pajamas with shorts printed with tiny purple hearts, items you would never pick for yourself. You remember what Dr. Kemp said.

You push aside the new sets and pick out the pair of plaid jammie pants and the grey sweatshirt with Snoopy on it. That’s your favourite pair of pajamas. Amber had the shirt with Woodstock. You hug the fabric and use your hip to close the drawer.

You grab the same novel you’ve been trying to finish since you got here and go back into the hallway. You near the bathroom door and peek inside as Andy bends over the tub. You clear your throat and set your things on the counter.

He stands and shakes the water of his hand. You can smell lavender. He faces you and dries his hand on a towel. His eyes drift from you to the clothes on the counter.

“Oh, those are… cute.”

“I like em,” you wring your hands.

“Yeah, but… they’re old. You have all your new stuff.”

“There’s no holes,” you argue, “and it’s getting colder.”

“Sure, sure,” he crosses his arms, his sleeves snug to his biceps.

You keep your eyes to the floor and move to stand against the counter. You glance over at the door, waiting for him to leave. He hesitates, stopping just in front of you.

“Dove, is everything okay?” He asks.

You tilt your head and examine the tiles. Your pulse is erratic. You shouldn’t say it. It’s not a big deal. But Dr. Kemp says you should speak up.

“No,” you clasp your hands tight, “I’m… I’m… annoyed that you took my journal.”

“Oh,” he lets the single syllable hang, “is that it? I apologised.”

“Yeah, but… but you went into my room and you went through my stuff,” you say, your tone wobbly, “and that’s… that’s wrong.”

“Well, dove, your room? This is my house,” he corrects you, “it’s not like I was snooping. I just forgot to ask you to grab it so I did it myself.” He sighs, “you know, I love you but you make such a big deal out of things.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” you sniff, “and… and you didn’t mention Thanksgiving. I didn’t know– I didn’t know we would do that. I… what if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to. Sweetie, why wouldn’t you want to? It’s a holiday. Our first,” he puts his hands on his hips.

You’re quiet. You swallow tightly. You take a breath and release it slowly. Your heart flips and you feel the room shift.

“Can I invite Amber?” You ask so abruptly that you have to slap your hand over your mouth. The thought escapes so fast you can’t stop it.

“Amber?” He repeats bitterly. “Why would you wanna do that?”

“Well, Thanksgiving is for family and… and you said, I want to… I want…” you can’t catch your breath, “to— say… s-s-sorry.”

“Calm down, alright? Don’t be so dramatic. Why? Sorry for what?”

“For hurting her. Like I hurt you, right? That’s what you said.”

He looks away and your eyes flick up briefly. His jaw is set and his eyes are fiery. You shy away as he faces you again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he backs up and grabs the door, “take your bath. Get your head straight.”

He storms out and slams the door. You whimper and stare at the painted wood. You’re so stupid. One step forward, a hundred backwards. You just can’t let things be good.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #library au #don't speak #defending jacob #series #fresh #steve kemp

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ti1206 · 2 months

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girlblogging

basic

i‘m 15 (going on 16 🤩)

i’m a sagittarius

i’m an entp

i’m a hopeless romantic

i’m the biggest extrovert you will ever meet

hey everyone, i recently started this blog and i was thinking that i should introduce myself soo here we are!!

ꕥ first: on this blog i’m gonna post anything like some pics, memes, inspiration and just my daily girly thoughts! keep in mind that some of these thought will probably contain a bit of dark humor because this is what i cope with. i hope y’all understand!! anywayss

ꕥ likes: music (fav singer is the weeknd), shows, writing, pink, pinterest (user: wvv111), roblox, basic outfits, working out, having an balanced diet (80/20), chocolate croissant i’ll add more as it comes to me!

ꕥ dislikes: homophobia, transphobia, racism etc, people who don’t respekt my misophonia, dishonesty etc

ꕥ series/movies: tbh i don’t really watch that many movies but my favorite one is definitely the notebook! series: gilmore girls, gossip girl, ninjago (😭), friends and modern family (watching rn)

ꕥ dni: homophobia, transphobia, sexism, racism, sh, etc

ꕥ some extras: i love taking pictures and posting them, this blog will be like a journal/diary so don’t take anything too personal because i will joke a lot!! i really love talking about anything so follow me and i’ll return the love with a follow!

thank you for taking your time reading this!! 💋🪽🫶🏼

#just girly things #tumblr girls #girlhood #girlblogging #blog #beautiful #the weeknd #intro post #introduction #blog intro #introductory post #extrovert #pink #poetry #this is what makes us girls #this is a girlblog #hell is a teenage girl #teenagers #episode 1

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writingdumpster · 1 year

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Jackie and Wilson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: None, I think.

Summary: Eddie wrote the Hozier song Jackie and Wilson about you in this fic bc i don’t know how to make up song lyrics.

A/N: I'm crushing on a musician rn so i wrote this. i really like it idk.

Word Count: 1.8k

Eddie had been playing his acoustic guitar intermittently, leaning up against your headboard as you worked on an essay for one of your community college classes. He only used his acoustic guitar when he was writing songs. He wasn’t singing though. He usually sang as he played. Usually he wrote his lyrics before even thinking about melody or rhythm, like a poet who happened to be a metalhead. You stretched as you put your pencil down. Eddie looked over at you.

“Done?” He asked.

“No, but I want to take a break,” you said. Eddie smiled brightly when you met his eyes, approaching the bed. Eddie quickly gathered up his notebook and music sheets, moving them to the side. You laid down beside him snuggled into his side, resting your hand on his thigh, and closed your eyes. His guitar was still settled in his arms.

“Sing your new song to me, Eds,” you requested. Eddie blushed, unbeknownst to you.

“It’s…uh…it’s not done,” he muttered.

“Sing me what you have,” you asked. “I like hearing you sing.” Eddie’s blush darkened.

“It’s not good enough yet,” Eddie told you.

“Don’t say that, Eddie,” you replied quickly. “You’re always good enough.” Eddie smiled softly despite the anxiety he was feeling about sharing his song with you.

“Thank you, sweet thing,” Eddie said.

“Sing to me, please,” you asked again.

“I only have a few parts done,” he said. “But uh…it goes like this…” Eddie started strumming a melody on his guitar. It wasn’t his normal metal style though, it was the blues style that you often listened to. He hummed along to the melody where he didn’t have words yet and then after a few bars he began singing.

“She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild…”

It was the Fourth of July. Eddie had gone to the quarry in the hopes of avoiding the crowd, but still being able to see the fireworks. When he got to his usual spot, there were no other cars around. He would be alone.

But when he approached his usual look out spot, you were there. You were illuminated by moonlight. He’d never seen someone so beautiful. That was what made his heart drop. He was sure you’d be another person to call him a freak. He turned around to find somewhere else to watch the fireworks from.

“You can stay. This is the best view,” you called. Eddie froze. He didn’t think you had seen him. He turned back to face you.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Eddie said.

“It’s alright,” you said. “I’d like the company.” This time Eddie heard your voice waver a bit. He decided to join you. He’d never made a better decision.

When he got close enough that night he saw that there were tear streams on your cheeks and your eyes were red and puffy. He sat down in silence.

“I’m Eddie,” he introduced himself.

“Y/N,” you told him.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he said.

“I just moved here,” you said. “Actually, if you know a cheap place for rent or somewhere that’s hiring I’d love to know.” Eddie was quiet for a moment. You were clearly in the midst of something serious.

“Are you alright?” He asked after a moment. Before you could answer a firework shot up into the air, golden glitter sparkling throughout the sky. There was a small quiet before the next rocket was shot off. You took the brief pause of explosions to reply.

“Let’s just enjoy this moment. We’re never going to forget it.”

Your eyes widened when you realized that this song was about you. And by the style of it, it was for you as well. Eddie kept singing.

“...Laughing away through my feeble disguise…”

Eddie would never forget the way you laughed when he walked out of Max’s house with her Michael Meyers mask. You had been standing watch while everyone talked out the next move. Everything seemed to be going to hell, but you still had your sense of humor. You were still the sweet and funny woman he’d fallen in love with.

Eddie hummed a bit more, mumbling a few words that he wasn’t sure he liked yet before he began singing again.

”…And lord she found me just in time

She's gonna save me, call me ‘baby…’”

Eddie would never forget that you saved him. He wouldn’t forget that you dragged him out of the upside down and saved him. He didn’t remember much of that moment, the blood loss was too much for his mind. What he remembered was waking up to you holding his hand in a hospital bed while you were reading “The Lord of the Rings” to him. He remembered the way your voice was heavy and sad while you read.

“Hey, beautiful,” Eddie croaked. Your eyes shot up from the book.

“Baby!” Your voice was light and happy. “You’re awake!”

“I’m awake,” Eddie agreed softly. Tears began slipping down your cheeks. “Oh, no. Angel, don’t cry,” he begged.

“I’m sorry. I just thought I was going to lose you."

“What happened?” He asked. Your expression dropped and you scowled.

“You did something incredibly brave and saved a lot of people, and if you ever do something like that again I’ll kill you, Munson,” you said fiercely. Eddie chuckled.

“So it worked out?”

Eddie hummed a few more bars as you were tearing up.

“...Run her hands through my hair…”

Eddie would never forget the first time he felt your fingers tangling into his mane of curls, gently scratching his scalp as your lips were shoved against his. You had been making out in the back of his van, hiding out there during your lunch break. You hadn’t been together long at that point. When you tugged on his hair he moaned. You leaned away to giggle. For some reason that was it. He knew right then that he belonged to you.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Eddie whined.

“I’m not laughing…I just… I like you a lot,” you said softly. Eddie blushed.

“I like you a lot too,” he told you.

“Good. Now keep kissing me.”

You had sat up to look at Eddie at this point, but he was avoiding looking at you, still nervous about your reaction to the song.

“...She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily

Better yet, she wouldn't care…”

Eddie would never forget when he came home crying. He dropped his backpack on the floor when he got into the trailer and immediately headed for his room. He didn’t notice you sitting on his couch as he wiped tears from his eyes.

“Eddie?” You called softly. Eddie froze. “What’s wrong?” You asked. He turned to see you.

“Why aren’t you at work?” He deflected.

“Got off early,” you told him. “I wanted to see you.” He sniffled.

“Give me a minute to get changed,” Eddie choked out. Before he could reach his door you had caught his hand, keeping him with you.

“Baby, what happened?” You asked softly, raising your free hand to wipe his tears and cup his cheek.

“It’s nothing,” Eddie said. “Just talk. I don’t know why it’s getting to me this time.” His voice was off. He was lying.

“Eddie,” you protested. That was enough for him to fold when it came to you.

“People were saying I’m not good enough for you.” You frowned. “They were saying I’m a freak and you’re…well, you’re perfect. And they’re right.”

“You are not a freak and you are more than good enough for me,” you said immediately. “You’re perfect and you’re perfect for me. I can’t imagine anyone better,” you said firmly. You pulled his head down to lean his forehead against yours and put both your hands on his cheeks. His hands slid around your waist, pulling your body close against his.

“I don’t know if anyone else thinks that,” Eddie murmured.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks. All that matters is what we feel for each other,” you told him.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I…know…I’m good enough for you,” he added unconvincingly.

“You are. I’ll tell you everyday if that’s what you need, Eds.”

“...We’ll steal her Lexus, be detectives

Ride round picking up clues…”

Eddie would never forget when you pulled up to Reefer Rick’s in your dad’s Lexus. Eddie had been terrified all night, but there you were to help him figure out what was happening. There you were, by his side, like you would always be. You wrapped him in your arms tightly and looked him over for injuries, knowing that he was prone to ignoring them on account of not liking doctors.

“I’m okay,” Eddie told you. You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay?” You repeated.

“Yes, sweetheart. You’re here now. I’m okay.”

“Does anyone else know you’re here?” You asked.

“No,” he said. “Just you.” Just then Steve Harrington’s car pulled up. Before long you and Eddie were caught up on the alternate dimension beneath Hawkins. And not long after that Eddie was tucked into your Dad’s car, laying on the floor of the backseat as you drove off, on your way to prove Eddie innocent and save the day.

“...We’ll name our children Jackie and Wilson

Raise them on Rhythm and Blues…”

“That’s as far as I’ve gotten,” Eddie said as he put the guitar to the side. He finally turned his eyes up to look at you and saw your face doused in tears. “Sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you wrote a song for me,” you whispered. Eddie smiled proudly.

“Course I did,” Eddie said. “You’re my muse, princess.”

“I can’t believe you did this. It’s amazing,” you told him.

“It’s not finished yet,” he said.

“You can do whatever you want with the rest,” you said, wiping away another tear. “All of that was perfect.” Eddie smiled.

“It's not too hard to write a perfect song when you’re writing about a perfect person,” Eddie said. You smiled. You crawled forward, straddled him, and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed him passionately. Your lips moved in harmony and your tongues traced each other perfectly. You melted into the kiss. You sighed softly as you leaned away.

“You have to record a copy of that for me when you’re done,” you said. Eddie smiled.

“It’s supposed to be your anniversary gift,” he said. “You can’t hear anymore of it until I’m done now.” You grinned widely.

“How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“Honey, if all you do that day is call me you win,” Eddie said. You ignored this.

“I’ll figure it out, Munson. I’ll get you a perfect gift too,” you said assuredly. He chuckled.

“Don’t need a gift,” Eddie said. “You’re the perfect gift, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff

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kinardsevan · 10 days

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ꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ

tagged by my beloved @typicalopposite. honestly, I've been writing fic for SO fucking long at this point (literally starting in notebooks when I was like 12 and didn't know that's what it was) that I don't even HAVE those stories anymore? But I will give you something old. We'll go back a decade: November 2014.

I referenced this series previously, but my friend died in 2013, and I wrote a 3-part series basically as a diary of how I was dealing. This was from part 2, Never Forget You (PLL, Ezria/Spardy):

“You know what’s on my mind ever since that day?” He asks rhetorically. After a minute, he looks back up at Aria. “No one ever knows.” Aria nods. “We never wake up with plans to die,” he continues. “And I go to work every day wondering if something’s going to happen to me. I mean I stand at the damn train station and just stare at trains when they’re coming in...and all I can think about is how we literally have no clue. I hate it so much. We should get to know. We should know when someone is a grenade.” Aria frowns at him. Hardy catches her expression and exhales heavily. “I didn’t mean-- Ezra wasn’t-...Death is a grenade. Especially when it’s someone young. And it’s like people just...go off and then everything is fucked up,” Hardy says.

and now, something from this summer. honestly, y'all know i go back and forth on which story i love more by the day sooooo.... something from the most recent chapter of it's gonna be alright (piece by piece)

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” the blonde sobs, pressing his forehead against Tommy’s collarbone. “I want to go home.” “I know, baby,” he replies, pressing his mouth down into his fiancé’s scalp. “I know. Just a little bit longer.” Evan keeps shaking his head, sobs catching in his throat and breaking Tommy with each one that he lets out. “Please,” Tommy says to him, his jaw tightening with anger at how much he feels like he’s begging him to keep fighting. “Please?” Evan’s hands are still tight on his wrists as his thumbs move in circles on his cheeks. “I d-…don’t want to do this again,” Evan stammers. Tommy huffs, gripping his face just the slightest bit tighter, lifting Evan to look up at him. Tommy’s eyes are red, tears coming nearly as fast as his own. The nerves in his face twitch with a mix of anger and sorrow. “I can’t do this without you,” Tommy tells him. “You promised me forever, damn it. I’m fucking holding you to it. Because you were right. This isn’t enough. I want more. We deserve more.” Evan stares at him, his own eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. “That’s not fair,” he rasps. Tommy shakes his head. “I don't give a fuck. You fight. I’m right here with you.” Evan’s gaze falls away, and Tommy watches him, still brushing his fingers over his face as he watches the younger man’s resolve weaken. He hiccups a sob and Tommy presses his lips into Evan’s hairline. “You don’t get to leave after this,” Evan whispers. “Fuck the wedding. This is the line.” “Fine,” Tommy murmurs back. “As long as you’re alive, I don’t care.”

aaaaand for tagging:

@girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @v88sy, and anyone else who wants to join! (my brain is not working rn and I know I'm missing so many people!!!)

#tag games #writer games #sentimental sunday #mel's musings #fic teasers

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unsleepingtales · 1 year

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I wasn’t planning on it and I’ve never done it before, but I’m watching the AP and I keep wanting to write things so I’m gonna do a reactions post for the Mentopolis Ep 1 Adventuring Party!

Hank didn’t notice when he started to be threatening??? Sir??

I don’t think I realized that the snake fact was legitimately not common knowledge. Brennan asking Hank if it was true really surprised me! (Even if it wasn’t common knowledge I figured Brennan would have heard that one before lol)

Y’all thought Hank Green was just gonna make up facts? No he’s got his brain and his notebook. I for one cannot wait to learn more facts from him.

You sound so threatening but you’re really just explaining something to me

Can’t believe you forgot about women snakes. Damn.

MAYBE THAT LEADS TO SNAKE KNOT BEHAVIOR. I get what you were going for man but you need to find a different way to phrase it.

Siobhan pulling out more dick facts was not what I expected but ok!

I love that the reason Brennan can be loud is larp camp

Yelling horn is louder and more effective than blowing the horn.

Alex wanting to branch out but winding up playing what they usually main is so real.

(Unrelated to AP but I’m in the early stages of a new campaign rn and I am also trying to branch out but I can feel in my bones that I’m gonna wind up with another rogue.)

Focusing on the fact that impulses can be positive <3

Ooh Trapp’s right, this is the era of science being fucked around with.

Science is inherently creative!

I love when Brennan’s communism comes out.

Hank’s IMMEDIATE fuck you to Freddie when he brought up snickerdoodles I’m gonna die

There’s a podcast about chocolate chip cookies and Trapp listens to it :)

I always love the APs I just don’t usually write my reactions, so we’ll see if I keep doing this or not! Who can say.

#mentopolis #verbal component #adventuring party #HANK #Brennan #reactions

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silverstripe1rose1 · 2 years

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Here is the first part of the first chapter of a fanfic I just started.

There are 2 chapters out rn

Based on an idea, I found somewhere about a romance, but it is a time traveler and an immortal.

Grian is immortal

Scar is the time traveler

Here is the link if you are interested :]

--------------------fic below--------------------

Grian could remember the first time he ran into the charismatic brunet. The man sat in a tree watching as Grian followed his patrol leader around the forest. Their horses' hooves hid the sound of him climbing from tree to tree. He wore fabric along the bottom of his face, leaving only his piercing emerald eyes to make Grian's blood run cold.

Grian let the man think he didn’t notice him above them. The blonde was keeping his bow drawn at his side ready to fire if he moved too close.

“Everything is looking fine to me, Grian. I’m going to head back and report to King Red. Why don't you take my bundles and feel them with those wild berries you like so much?” Grian’s eyes jumped to the armored man.

“Sure thing, Was there anything else Lily was wanting us to gather?”

“Nothing I'm sure they haven’t already told you”

Grian shrugged in response and watched the man trot off on his horse. The moment Grian knew he was out of ear range he drew his bow and pointed it at the man. That causes the guy to comedically flinch and stumble out of the tree hitting the ground hard. He swung his legs off the horse and dropped onto the ground next to him twisting his bow over his shoulder and away. “Who are you and why were you following us?”

“Oh well hello there,” the guy greeted “I mean no harm dude! Just uh.. A friendly traveler!” he scrunched his nose, most likely smiling under the mask. Grian took a moment to look over the man searching for any type of weapon. The man just had a purple cloak and an undershirt that didn’t look like any piece of clothing he’d seen before. It went just past his shoulders and was very thin, didn’t look like it would last him a month of wear. He wore brown pants with a few small bags hanging from a rope attached to his belt. Grian reached out and grabs one of the sacks and opened it, despite the man's complaints. The tan man tried to sit up to grab it back from him. He simply pulled a dagger from under his sleeve and stuck it in his face. “Do you trade?” Grian questioned.

“Oh! uh, yes. I have many trades! It will blow your pretty little mind!” the man waved his hand around as he spoke, “if you just give back that bag I can show you what I have to offer!” Grian looked over the man for a moment, pulling back the dagger and then throwing a glance at the bag.

“If you try to run you will just get an arrow through your ‘pretty little’ brain” he mocked throwing the small brown bag at his chest. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the traveler fumble with the bag before pulling out a few small items and laying them on the ground next to where he was oddly laying in the moist grass.

The items consisted of a notebook bound with dark brown leather, with the title ‘Plants of the forest and how not to die while living off the grid’ which was a sentence Grian didn’t quite understand but it still made sense. The words were funny. Then there was a gold chain with a few rings on it. The last item caught Grian’s eye. It was a dagger like the one Grian already was holding though it had the skull of a bird on the hilt, wrapped in a white cloth, what caught his eyes was the inscription along the blade. It was a rectangle but the corners and sides were not connected. A shape he knew all too well.

He snatched it up quickly and looked over the blade again. How had this man ended up with a dagger that had once been in the presents of a Watcher? Grian flipped it in his hand as he tried to figure out whose blade it could have been.

“Looks like you’re interested in that one, well show me what you have to offer and I can see what we can do for you” The man, who Grian had momentarily forgotten was there spoke.

“Where did you get this” he ignored the question.

“That? I just found it in a Shop- like a trading post… The girl gave it to me for free, she said no one ever showed interest in it”

“What did she look like?”

“You definitely wouldn’t know her” He shrugged. He whipped the bird skull dagger into his face. “ She had bright orange hair! Broad shoulders! I don’t know her name” The man sputtered out. Grian pushed the blade closer to his face, “ I swear! I didn’t even think much of it!”

Grian sighed and dropped his arm. “Go”

“What?”

“Go. what don’t you understand from that”

“Well we need to trade, you can’t keep it! It’s my only knife”

“Find a new one”

“Hey man, I won’t even ask for much, anything would be enough”

“I said, go”

“I don’t think you know how trades work, man. I’m also supposed to get something out of it”

“You are” when the man opened his mouth to speak again Grian swung the bow from over his shoulder and pointed an arrow between his eyes “your life.” he finished “now go get yourself a new knife and stop spying on people who clearly could kill you in a heartbeat”

The man's eyes widened at the arrow. He reached up and grabbed a silver chain around his neck. There was a pendant attached to it. The man rotated the side of the circle clockwise, then flicked it so the middle spun quickly.

The next this that happened made him question if the man really was a traveler or even from this time at all. He disappeared, and just as if he never existed. The world around him went quiet. Grian looked down at the other two items abandoned on the ground. He picked up the chain of rings and peered at them. Something had to tell him who that man was. Magic wasn’t a shock to Grian, he lived long enough to know wizards existed, though it had been a very long time since he had run into one. A few thousand years at the least. What made his gut turn cold was the blade. If the man was lying then he had been spotted by a Watcher. His location was revealed. Which meant it was, again, time for him to move.

Grian pocketed the notebook and jewelry, slid the dagger into the empty holster on his thigh, and began to stage his death. Something he had regrettably become very familiar with. An easy ambush would be enough for patrol to believe. He cut a few slices of his cloak and stabbed them into a few surrounding branches to indicate a struggle. Then he cut his palm putting pressure around the now bleeding cut and watched as blood pooled in his palm. He then let it splatter around on the ground. He didn’t need much. He was sure the hounds would be able to sniff it out. Though that also meant he needed to hide his scent.

He went with taking his cloak off to roll it in the dirt around the area, getting some moss and spreading it around his boots, then to his dismay dusting some dirt into his blonde hair and clothes. The white top is now an off-tan, with splotches of green. Nothing that he couldn’t wash out later. He then reached to the chain around his ankle, hidden underneath his sock. And snapped it off.

Elegant white wings blew into view as if it were the breezes’ will. The feathers were still soft and all in place from the last time he had preened them. Grian looked back and smiled. It had been a few years since he had seen them. Then he was off to find a new life. Somewhere, this one would never cross. The clouds engulfed his small frame. The smell of wet bark soon turned to the brewing of a thunderstorm. He spread his wings wide and let himself drop a few hundred feet before twisting a shooting himself higher into the sky.

#desert duo #mumbo jumbo #grian #watcher grian #goodtimewithscar #hermitcraft #fanfic #writing #hermitcraft fanfic #a03 fanfic #scarian #slow burn

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mistergandalf · 2 years

Text

tagged by @feeweeeee! thank you love ❤️

1. Three Ships: Shadowgast (Critical Role) feeds me. Also Widojest although I accept that ship has sunk in favor of Shadowgast. I’m okay with it. Still cute tho. And then uhhhh I really don’t ship things that’s like all I’ve ever cared about. I have an OC in my Everybody Lives AU and I ship her and Fili pretty hard? Is it shipping when it’s your OC? IDK

2. First ever ship: I wrote a fic when I was EIGHT YEARS OLD about the Merlin miniseries from 1998. I literally still have the notebook I wrote it in because it’s precious to me. It’s Merlin/Nimue but in the fic I spelled it Nemaway because I was a dumb 8 year old lmao.

3. Last song: Uhhh I was listening to my Rings of Power playlist earlier so [checks spotify] looks like “Crimson Aftermath” from ep 7 was the last thing before I turned it off

4. Last movie: I watched Glass Onion with my mom last week and it was phenomenal

5. Currently reading: Nothing because I suck. I brought 3 books with me to this little work trip though and the plan is to start one today. So the choices are: American Gods, Wuthering Heights, or Beren and Luthien. Which honestly really rounds out the three kinds of books I’m interested in lmao

6. Currently watching: I don’t have any unfinished series I’m in the middle of rn I don’t think? Oh wait I was watching Abbott Elementary with my mom. I think I forgot I was watching Manifest so I could start that up again. And I was watching Rise of the TMNT with @mhyinart last night and it was great fun.

7. Currently consuming: I should probably eat lunch hmmm

8: Currently craving: Not sureeee... I have this problem where they sent me to a COLLEGE TOWN to work for two weeks and I want to explore the area but I don’t want to be surrounded by 20 year olds lmao.

tagging @starlady66, @thesolarangel, @pepperonyscience, @malledhrim, and @largewoodenbadger to start and okay I want to tag more people but I have SO MANY MUTUALS NOW literally just do this if you see it on your dash mwah 💋

#snurtz talks

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goldensstateofgrace · 2 years

Text

I posted 2,660 times in 2022

373 posts created (14%)

2,287 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@stylesmygucci

@moonchildstyles

@swiftmendeshoran

@fkinavocado

@stucktoyou

I tagged 755 of my posts in 2022

#fav mutuals - 247 posts

#graceanswers - 209 posts

#stylessupremacy - 156 posts

#grace.txt - 106 posts

#harry styles - 74 posts

#gracereads - 69 posts

#gracewrites - 41 posts

#b🧜‍♀️ - 31 posts

#to read later - 30 posts

#lovie❣️ - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#please i’ll cry rn just imagine harry’s doing the music video and you’re behind the scenes watching him get felt up by so many people you

My Top Posts in 2022:

Grace, I need a one-shot/blurb ab this post 🥺

Going on vacations can be hard when dating a celebrity of Niall’s status, but sometimes you just gotta say ‘fuck it.’

You were laying out sun tanning, Niall laying next to you when a buzz started around you, people whispering and talking, pointing in your direction and out near the parking lot.

The parking lot where there were very clearly paparazzi taking photos of you and Niall to eventually sell off to the highest paying magazine.

You groan, rolling over towards Niall, “I hate that we cant just have a bit of piece.”

“I know, petal,” he whispers pulling you into him so your head lays against his bicep and he’s leaning over you, his fingers pushing a stray hair off your forehead.

“But who cares? All that matter is that I’m herewith you, so fuck it, let’s give them something to take pictures of,” he finishes, leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

You chuckle against his mouth before giving in and cupping his face, responding to his kiss with passion.

138 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

At Last...

Main Masterlist | Request / tell me what you think <3

Summary: Y/n doesn’t singing In front of people, but for harry she does.

Warnings: PURE TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, mentions of a mothers death (not in detail), lmk If I missed anything!

Word count: 1345

I hope you enjoy! Happy reading! -G <3

You never sing in front of Harry.

It’s not because you think you sound horrible, you’ve just always been shy when singing in front of people, and to have your boyfriend, Harry Styles, listening to you is too nerve wracking.

From a young age you knew you loved to sing, always singing along in the car or mumbling lyrics to yourself while doing a task. But never in front of friends, the only person you ever trusted to hear you was your mother. And when she passed away, you never sang in front of anyone again.

It always felt like a you and her thing, and you didn’t want to take that memory and feeling away by giving it to someone else.

But one night Harry sweetly talked you into singing a bit for him, which was very nerve wracking and you were terribly anxious.

You both had been laying on the couch in his house, having been watching ‘The Notebook’ one of Harry’s favorite rom coms.

“Alright,” you sit up, untangling yourself from his arms, “I’ll let you pick one song and I'm not singing it all, just a little part and then that’s all you get.” you tell him, looking at him expectantly.

He takes a minute, brows furrowed and his fingers tugging at his pink plump lips, “Ok,” he sits up too, grabbing his phone from his pocket and typing away before a piano and guitar instrumental starts to play through the phone speaker and you instantly recognize it.

You shoot him a small glare, which he just smirks back at, both of you knowing you’d have to use almost your full range to do this song.

“I hate you” you mumble, sitting up straighter and taking a deep calming breath.

“At Last..” you belt out, nothing like Etta James but that's the thing about music, different people interpret songs in different ways, it’s the beauty of it.

“My Love has come along,

My lonely days are over,

And life is like a song,

Oh yeah, oh yeah”

Harry’s face morphed in awe and shock, his mouth slightly open as his eyes,full of wonder, stare at you, a slow, breathless smile etching it’s way to the corners of his mouth.

“At last,

The skies are blue,

My heart was wrapped in clover,

The night I looked at you.”

You stare right back at him, conveying through your eyes how much you loved him. You gave one small smile before sighing, rubbing your sweaty hands on your thighs, “alright, that’s all you get. “

“Y-Y/n,” he stutters, his face still full of shock, “why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that? Holy shit, babe, you’re amazing.” Harry lets out a chuckle pulling you to him, kisses you sweetly, pulling back to laugh again in amazement.

You blush, shaking your head, “uh thanks, oh look you’re favorite parts coming up,” you bring both of your attentions back to the tv.

“Thank you for singing for me baby, I know you don’t like it but i’m thankful you trusted me enough to do it, I love you,” he whispers, pulling you into him and kissing your forehead.

See the full post

250 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

What about asking H to fuck you in front of a mirror?? It's so hot

Sex club

I got a few older!H requests so here you go!!

Summary: y/n’s trying out a new place tbat happens to be a sex club where she meet and older harry.

Warnings: Older!harry, Dom!harry, chocking, spanking, oral (female and male receiving) mirror fucking (p in v) unprotected sex, ‘sir’ ‘sweetheart’ ‘darling’ ‘slut’ ‘good girl’ , I think that it?? Lmk if not !

Word count: 5K

I hope you enjoy! Happy reading! -G <33

It is typical for you. Whenever you went out, it wasn’t guys or even girls your age that you looked for. No, it was older men and women. More experienced and more pleasurable experiences were what you looked for.

It had been like that your whole life, you don’t really know when it started, but when you got to dating age, it was people older than you that attracted you. You didn’t mind, hell you quite frankly enjoyed it way more than when you were with people your own age.

Currently you were out, sitting at the bar of a sex club. This wasn’t your normal way or place to meet someone, but you’ve always wanted to try something new, and this has been on your list for quite some time now.

Sitting at the bar, your back leaned against the bar as your legs crossed and you spun the small black straw in your long island iced tea. You wore your tightest black dress, your boobs pushed up so high you thought they’d touch your chin. You didn’t know if you’d be joining anything this time around, maybe you’d just watch this time and come back if you felt comfortable, but you still shaved every crevice of your body in case you did.

Your eyes roam the bar areas, watching a few women walk around topless, some on stages dancing to the sensual music. Women and men watching them, couples kissing and feeling each other up, most likely getting ready to head upstairs to the main area. You were already wet, at the sight, it didn’t take much now that you have been sitting here awhile, just watching, trying to work up the nerve to head up the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes keep scanning the bar area landing on different couples or people that might have just met tonight, making out, whispering what they’re going to do to each other and feeling each other up. Just as you go to take a sip your eyes land on a dark haired man, and he’s staring right back at you.

His green eyes focused on your mouth, or more your tongue as it swirls around the straw before finally getting put in your mouth. His thighs wide as he sits in a manspread, his hands fisted on his thighs, one wrapped around a glass of whiskey. God his hands are hot. You don’t take your eyes off him as you take a sip of your drink, your thighs clenching as you watch his jaw tick.

This man is fine, the hottest man here by far. His dark hair having a few gray streaked through it, but mostly all dark, his stubbled jaw that you would like to know how it feels between your thighs. You can tell he’s older than your twenty three years, just what you like.

Your eyes lock with his from across the room, his eyebrow quirked in challenge. You let a small smirk grace your lips, finishing off the last of your drink before setting it on the counter behind you and standing. You don’t look back as you make your way towards the stairs, hips swaying and your dress riding higher to just under your ass cheeks, you don’t care though, half the people here are in a state of undress. What’s a little pantie action?

As you make it to the landing you can hear footsteps on the stairs behind you, a spike of excitement runs through you making you feel electrified . You're so ready to see where this night leads.

Walking down the dark, red lit hall, you turn right into a room where you can see two women - one with dark hair and the other with blonde, are making out on a bed, a man watching them from the corner as he sits in an armchair, his shirt unbuttoned and his hand stroking his cock - just beyond the glass. The women are groping each other, hands roaming everywhere, the one with dark hair putting their hand between the blonde’s thighs, stroking her clit at the order of the man. They moan, the blonde woman moving kisses down the neck of the dark haired one before sucking her nippile into her mouth.

Your thighs clench, but as hot as it may be it is not as exciting as you’d figure you’d find here, so you turn and walk back down the hall. Passing a few doors, moans falling into the hall before you take a left, coming into a well lit room with two men and a red haired woman. One is fucking her from behind as the other lays on his back while the women sucks him off. It was hot, the man fucking her slapping her ass cheek making her whimper and pull off the other man. “I didn’t say stop, slut,” He snaps, his hand pulling her head back to him, she lets out a moan as she takes him back in her mouth. Her hand works his base and she swirls her tongue around his tip.

You cross your legs, clenching your thighs, your panties soaking as you watch them fuck her. Her moans filling your ears, biting your lip to try and keep in a moan. You knew this would excite you coming here, you just didn’t know how much.

“Does this excite you, sweetheart?” His rough, British voice rasps in your ear. His body heat encases your back in a warmth. A shiver runs down your spine, standing straighter, your hands find the hem of your dress fisting it in your hands.

You're nervous, you never imagined to catch someone's attention tonight, you were just going to watch. His front grazes your back, not quite touching you, but you can feel his hard on brush against the curve of your ass cheeks.

“I asked a question, love,” he rasps. His hand coming up, his fingers running along your arm causing goosebumps appear as you let out a shuttered breath.

“Y- yes,” you whisper, unconsciously leaning back into him. His fingers brush your hip, pulling you back into him more, his hard on nuzzled between your ass cheeks, only your dress and his pants separating you. Groaning, you push your ass into him.

You love this feeling, having a man hard for you. It excites you, your panties grow wetter as you eyes watch the two men and red haired woman fuck. The man she was sucking off now under her, fucking up into her pussy as the man behind fucking her ass. Her moans can’t be contained, she lets them fall out freely as she kisses the man’s under her chest.

“Fuck-” you whimper. You’ve had your fair share of threesomes, men and women, just men, just women. But never like this, never both men at once. You ache, needing to be touched, you just want to stick your hand in your panties and get yourself off but a strong ring clad hand catches you before you can.

“No touching yourself, sweetheart,” he orders into your ear. Your back is fully leaned on his chest now, a whimper escaping you as he tugs your hand back, laying your palm flat on his thigh. The hard ridges of his abdomen pressed into you.

“What’s your name, love?” he asks you, keeping you against him with a hand on your hip and the other on your upper arm. His breath right next to your ear, his lips skimming your ear lobe.

“Y/N,” you whisper out, turning your head on his shoulder so you can catch his eyes. You meet lust filled emeralds, and all you can think is you want this man to fuck you. “What’s yours?”

“M’Harry,” he mutters. His eyes flick between yours, moving across the expanse of your face, down to your lips, lingering there. He licks his lips, his face moving an inch closer, noses brushing and breath fanning over each other's lips as you wait for his next move. Your chest rises and falls with each breath, your ass pushing back into him, needing to feel him.

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285 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

could you maybe do the "just lay back down, and I'll take care of you" first time prompt with harry?

Main Masterlist | Requests |

Ok so I combined these two asks and made a fluff / self Indulgent little fic lol Also just a forewarning this is not my best work i literally wrote this in less than 30 mins dsjansdjfh;odjf;dsjk

Summary: y/n’s sick and older!H takes care of her

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, chest pains, being sick, lmk if I missed anything (nothing sexual purely a fluff / comfort fic)

Word count: 944

Hope you enjoy! Happy reading - G <3

When you first met Harry you never could have imagined he would be seeing you like this so soon. You didn’t want him seeing you like this but he's a stubborn asshole most of the time anyways, not giving up until he got his way, much like you.

He insisted on taking care of you when you came down with a fever of 100.7 and a raw wet cough, he wouldn’t take no for an answer when he stated more than asked if he could stay with you to make sure you were ok. After putting up more of a fight than the little energy you had allowed, you finally gave up and let him make his famous chicken noodle soup he told you his mum used to make him when he was sick.

The thing about being sick was, you absolutely hated it, ever since you were a child you couldn’t stand being sick. You hated when your throat hurt and you had to cough, you hated throwing up and the hot and cold flashes that came with having a fever, the chest and body aches where you can’t get comfortable when you’re trying to rest.

But what you hated the most was that your anxiety got worse. It happens every time you get sick, the thought of just a head or chest cold turning into bronchitis or pneumonia. It scared the absolute shit out of you.

Of course your mother would try and comfort you, rubbing your back and hugging you real tight, whispering that ‘everything will be okay’. Anything to soothe you, but sometimes it just wouldn’t work.

You could be resting, trying to sleep but your mind would go to places where you’d wonder if your chest was hurting because it was more than a small chest cold. That you weren’t going to be okay and you needed to go to the hospital.

You didn’t want Harry to be around when you had your anxiety attack, you normally can calm yourself down now that you're older and can somewhat take care of yourself. You didn’t want him to see you like that, especially when he’s older and you haven’t been dating that long.

It was day two of being sick and waking up with a really raw cough and your nose running that you noticed that your chest was hurting more than the day before. You didn’t say anything when Harry woke up and offered to make you some tea with honey and lemon to soothe your aching throat.

You didn’t say anything when he cuddled up behind you that afternoon after you told him you were tired and wanted to take a nap. Your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your back softly, soothing the body aches you feel. You didn’t say anything as you both layed there, him falling asleep as your mind ran wild with possibilities that the chest pains you were feeling were more that to do with your cold.

You only said something when he found you crying on the bathroom floor, having gently slipped from his arms and the bed when your anxiety got to be too much and the tears started to fall.

“M-my chests h-hurts,” you almost sob, fear leaking into your hoarse voice.

He nods, brows furrowed in concern, “Ok baby, it’s okay. Let’s get you back in bed.” He softly picks you up bridal style, your arms tightening around his shoulders and you hide your tear stained face in his neck.

“Shh, darling, everything’s going to be alright.” he coos.

Harry walks back into your bedroom and over to the side of the bed where all your pillows are propped up because it’s easier to breath sitting up than laying down. He gently places you on the soft mattress, pulling the comforter out from under your sock covered feet and pulling it up under your chin.

“Just lay back, I’ll take care of you, okay baby?” he whispers, pushing a stray piece of hair off your forehead before he leans down and places a kiss there. You nod, letting out a cough and a weak smile.

Harry walks into the kitchen and is back a minute later with some medicine, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you as he pours it in the little medicine up and hands it to you, “This is supposed to help ease the pain in your chest and throat, it’s a nighttime medicine which will probably make you sleepy but you need some sleep, i felt you tossing and turning all night last night.” he speaks softly, smiling over at you when you shoot him a small glare. “I also got you some more tea and crackers, because I know you don’t like the taste of the medicine.” Harry laughs softly as the soft smile you shoot him, an immediate mood change from glaring at him just a second ago.

You quickly take the medicine and immediately reach for the tea harry’s holding, taking a long sip of the warm liquid helping soothe your throat.

After laying back and Harry climbing in bed next to you, you cuddle up to him, your anxiety slowly floating away as Harry puts on your favorite marvel movies and you eat some crackers. You can feel yourself start falling asleep while the pain you were feeling in your chest eases.

You fall asleep to Harry softly rubbing your back and placing a kiss to the top of your head while Marvel's Captain America: The Winter Soldier plays in the background.

Taglist: @randomwriter1021 @marlananicole17 @whoreforthecullens @hc-geralt-23 @afuckenslutforharrybro @wiiildflowerrr @lonelyheart5 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @myfavfanficsever @onlyangel-k @cuddleluvr @Sophiawithanph @lovegiven. @theshyspy @watchyourbluesturngolden @thesadstoryofme

327 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What about y/n asking BSF!Harry to teach her how to give a blow job?

Bsf!harry teaches how to give a blowjob.

Ok so I’ve completely lost my laptop charger lmao 😅🤦‍♀️ so I sucked it up and wrote this on my phone so if it sucks that what we’re going to blame it on! 😂BUT I’m back ??!?! MAYBE lol i really missed writing!

Warnings: blowjob, throat grabbing ( NOT VIOLENT ( Not choking bc its loose and not meant in that way) nothing else?? Lmk if not!!

Word Count: 2247

I hope you enjoy!! Happy reading -G <3

Also this was not proof read or edited so sorry for any mistakes!!

You and Harry have been best friends since before he auditioned for The X Factor - you and his mothers doing.

He was never a shy person, always singing or humming a tune, playing birthday parties with his band. That’s how you met actually, he and his band played at your now ex best friends birthday party.

You met through a friend of a friend and hit it off right from the start, talking about the same interests you both had in songwriting and music. You ended up talking the whole night, sharing a dance or two before exchanging numbers.

You guys texted each other everyday and pretty much every minute, always bringing up new interests and the most bizarre things. Eventually, you started to hangout with friends, until it was just the two of you watching movies, singing lyrics at the top of your lungs in the car, just having become each other’s best friends.

And that leads to today, watching your best friend up on stage living his dream of being a musician. Harry was on tour for his second album, his fans not knowing that just yesterday he finished recording the last song for his third solo album. He’s let you hear snippets, but nothing fully and it’s driving you crazy.

He uses to do that when he was in the band, sending you voice memos of lyrics in the middle of the night when he was halfway across the world from you. And each and every time you would wake up and listen to it over and over, just to feel a smidge closer to him.

Sometimes you’d even call him, just to hear his voice. He couldn’t talk long most times, but just hearing his voice made you feel butterflies.

That should’ve been the first thing you noticed when you finally realized you liked him, well as more than a friend. You were always yearning to be near him, to hear his voice or just any form of attention from him.

He was your best friend, and you’d never had a boyfriend before. You never had anytime for one, you were always with harry. Hanging out, texting, ect.

So later that night when the show was over and you all had finally gotten back to the hotel, showered and in bed, you realized how inexperienced you were.

You’ve had sex, not the best albeit, but you weren’t a virgin. But you hadn’t really done anything else, your intimate life was pretty vanilla compared to everything harry had told you he’s experienced.

You’ve never even given a blow job.

You haven’t really wanted to with any of the guys you’ve been with, but still.

Your mind took to a deep place where all you could think about was that Harry had probably gotten a lot of blowjobs from different women around the world. That made you jealous. But a hot too.

The wetness between your thighs could be felt through your thin sleep shorts, you were picturing harry naked, that beautiful butterfly tattoo on full display with his legs parted and someone bobbing their head up and down on his cock.

You didn’t even realize what you were doing until your fingers connected with your swollen clit and started circling, the pleasure you were giving yourself completely clouded your imagination, until it wasn’t just ‘someone’ bobbing their head up and down on Harry’s dick, it was you.

Pleasure shot through you, a moan slipping out just as a knock sound at the door and it was pushed open. You’ve never sat up and covered yourself faster.

Harry’s surprised green eyes stare back at you, the extra key card to your room grasped between his lean strong fingers.

You had forgotten that he had a key card to your room, just like you do to his. It was what you always did when you were on tour with him, that way you both could just go right in without have to have someone open the door.

“I-“ you start to say before realizing he was walking closer, the heavy door now closed behind him.

“What we’re you doing?” He Asks you, is voice deep and his eyes bright and filled with heat. His eyes trail down you, to your tank top that’s not hiding the fact that you’re not wearing a bra, to your hard nipples and down to your blanket covered lap. Lingering on your hand that was just down your shorts not even a minute ago.

“Not” you clear your throat, placing a small hesitant smile across your lips, “nothing.” And you leave it at that, the blush heating your cheeks making it apparent that it wasn’t just ‘nothing’.

He stays quiet, just looking between you and your reddened cheeks, you take a moment to take him in. White shirt tightly hugging his toned chest, you could see his tattoos faintly through it and a pair of black gym shorts. The tiger tattoo peaks out just a tad and you imagine yourself riding it.

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366 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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leobashi · 2 years

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Thank you to @archivefullofyoutubers for the questions! This is my intro to the JSE community because I realize I never formally introduced myself, I just kinda got here and decided that I live here now

Preferred name: Leo/Leo Bashi

Preferred pronouns: they/them

When did you start watching JSE?: I watched a bunch of YouTube stuff casually but I think I started really watching Sean around 2015/2016. I remember because I got in when Mark and Sean had their colored hair and it was before Anti and Dark became canon

Why did you start watching JSE?: my gateway video was actually not a video of his, it was a speedpaint of Mark and Sean (which I can’t find rn). Then I started following the artist and then their friends and then I fell in love with the community and the content made inspired by Sean’s content

What's your favourite things about the channel?: I’d say the community. Some of y’all are really funny and some of y’all are very talented. It’s fun to interact with a shared interest!

Do you have a fave ego?: Yes: Chase, I love him very much 💗💗 Anti is falling down the ranks for me since he used to be my favorite but now he’s fourth after Henrik and Jackie lmao

What type of community member are you?: An artist, (novice) writer, lurker. I post my own stuff and like a lot of other people’s stuff, but I only started finding the confidence to interact more recently

What else do you enjoy?: Art. I love art, analysis of art, making art, art supplies. Don’t ask me about alcohol markers or watercolors, I might ramble about all the things I know about the brands and storage of and the containers they’re in. Also stationery, don’t ask me about planners or notebooks. I love birds, the rounds, the talls, the stupid, the cool. Also reptiles in general. I wanna own one one day, maybe a turtle or a lizard. I’ve recently started to keep plants too

Are you open to nice messages and new friends?: Yes and no? I much prefer asks, reblogs, and replies. Dms scare me, but I’m not gonna deny it completely. If a friendship develops out of it, then it develops out of it. I don’t like a declaration of friendship

#jse community #jse community greet

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on-cloud-9-26 · 1 year

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I haven’t done anything like this before only on a notebook so it’s my first time and probably won’t be good so imma start off with something easy for me to do so it’s gonna be a kiribakuxoc

I was in the common room and I was talking to jirou (sorry if I spelt her name wrong) and Mina and we were just talking about things to do over the weekend when my boyfriend kirishima walked into the common room and looked a bit stress. So I got up and said bye to jirou and Mina and walked to him “hey kiri what happened?”i said “just homework is kicking my ass and Bakugo is no help right now “he replied.As if on cue Bakugo walked in the room with his usual angry face and yelled “KIRISHIMA COME BACK AND FINISH YOUR WORK”I looked at Bakugo and said “BAKUGO CUTE IT OUT HES STRESSED GIVE HIM A BREAK”Bakugo scoffs and kiri whines”yea bakubabe give me a break please “I chuckle at the nickname and said “cute name hun”Bakugo blushes and said”that’s not my name kirishima “I chuckle relax love it’s cute “I walk to him and kiss him on the cheek.He was a blushing mess and I giggles and kirishima says”I want a kiss pebble!”i look at him and says “whatever you say love”I walk to him and kisses his cheek as well.Bakugo says”enough with the sappy shit”I laugh “you know you love it hun”

that was all I could think of my brain is kinda small rn and I’m sick so I wanna relax and watch some movies I MIGHT DO SOME 18+ WORK but who know if y’all want it your wish will be my command:D

Have a nice day loves !

#Bakugo #kirishima #kiribakuxoc #mha

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applesontheground · 2 years

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it ain’t if you fall, but how you rise 🍎

this is a bit of a vent piece because the mid-semester trenches are really testing your girl rn. perfect time to write for someone new in between getting my ass beat by uni assignments and a stacked work schedule. disclaimer: this is essentially me giving myself assurance through a final girl who means a lot to me (partially because we share a career aspiration/college major, and partially because i just think she’s stellar/that she’d say i’m cool when i’m feeling inadequate as an amateur journalist). hope you guys are hanging in there, as well. ❤

SFW | Word Count: 1,185 | Taylor Gentry x * GN!Reader * this can be taken as platonic, but it could honestly be interpreted as a little crush just as easily lol

contains light angst, comfort, very hard projection via journalist student!reader, brief mention of the reader wearing glasses

🎼: x

“How you holding up?” Your study buddy asked from the other side of the quiet, grey room, the only other audience being a row of dark computers that surrounded the two of you. She had probably caught sight of you just a moment ago, understanding the quiet motion of settling your arms over your head and staring at the single glowing monitor with a hopeless stare.

“Well, I’m holding up.” You answered almost in surprise with the last two words, making her stifle a laugh.

Taylor Gentry was a pal that you had made in your introductory multimedia course a few semesters ago, and although the friendship was strictly in the confines of a classroom or a field report that you two would take together here and there at the journalism program, she knew your plight better than most. Every Tuesday since the beginning of the year, you and her would sink your roots into this computer lab for the evening, working on the new week with new projects and being each other’s personal pitching room.

It was all a bit biased, though. You two picked apart each other’s work a little too frequently, and with a little too much enthusiasm – hence why you and her often stayed here well into the evening. You didn’t even want to know how late it had become; you just knew light had ceased glowing against the pale blinds you had pulled shut who knows how long ago.

“God, I hope I can get this in on time. Professor chewed me out for not meeting the deadline last week…” You murmured, eyes darting to the to-do list on the lined paper sitting by the keyboard as you hesitantly checked the next task off, letting it fall to the wayside in preference of what needed to happen next in your plan as your hand – pen still between your index and middle fingers – clicked on a tab you had to reread.

“You can,” Taylor hummed idly, “And you will.”

At first, you brushed the comment off. Of course I will, I tell myself that every day, you thought at first, but then your fingers settled on your keyboard in a standstill as the sound of her voice echoed back from one wall of your head to the other, hitting you between the eyes as it sank to the depths of your realization, almost hitting you straight in the heart before tumbling to your gut.

“You can, and you will.” ... She really thinks that about you, you concurred as she had been writing in her notebook while speaking, not even taking a moment to ponder that belief. Another brilliant headline was probably forming under her hand, something that would make every student envy her syntax and unsuspecting students stop to read the university paper for once because she knew exactly what to say. That type of mind thought that – no hesitation under her watchful scrutiny that she approached the world with – and she thought that about you.

Like a stack of bricks pushing down on the fraying fiber that formed your very nerves, you felt your lip start to shake as it snapped; the pressure of both your deadline and Taylor’s comment did you in and it came fast, almost made your head spin as you were unable to even think about your story any more. Despite that, you were silent otherwise, and even tried to find your autopilot button as you continued to type. Filler words dotted the empty page as your vision trembled, then completely blurred from tears.

The…development of the local…events in the area

Finally, a sniff made you lift your glasses to your forehead and put your hands over your face in a moment of embarrassment. It had to fall apart just for a second. You let yourself have a long, silent pause as you breathed deep, tried to let there be a caving in from an idle fear of not walking away from this computer without a sufficient article.

“[Y/N], I mean that.” Taylor had watched the falter, the computer chair rolling across the floor to hover behind you somewhere between your eyes fixing on the computer screen and then in your hands. A wool-clad palm settled on the back of your shoulder, nimble fingers moving a little awkwardly as she took in that you were actually showing a crack through the standard desire to prevail, to move forward through the occasional missed mark.

You replied quickly, no conviction in your voice, “I know you do, I…I can do this, always have. It’s fine.” You fumbled to pull yourself back to earth, sleeves desperately running over your eyes and still trying to take in enough air to stop flustering yourself. Taylor was quiet, staring with a thoughtful purse of her lips.

“You’re too hard on yourself, [Y/N].” She mused, finally making you feel safe enough to look at her in an unkept glory. The muscles in your knuckles tensed as her fingers moved down, a sudden but ginger clasp around the top of your hand that made you unable to look anywhere but in her concerned expression as she went on, “I think this is a great angle you’re taking, and even though it’s hard to keep up, that’s how it gets sometimes. We can only hope for people to email us back, return our calls…” She shook her head, and sighed, “But sometimes, that doesn’t happen. The story goes on, though. It has to.”

You nodded in mute agreement. She then chimed with a concurring tilt of her head, thinking on her own sentence as it came together, “But that’s when we have to go looking for ourselves if the so-called sources don’t want to tell us. I know you’re capable of that.”

“Okay, now you’re just buttering me up.” You discounted, but once again it felt off with how disheveled your voice had remained. She sighed, and insisted, “I’m serious, you always have something interesting to say, and god, you love it. That shines through more than anything else,” You gave her an uncertain glance, and she smiled slightly, “And I’ll say that until you believe me.”

Even though your eyes broke away from hers, falling to your lap with another quiet hum, she pat the top of your hand and abruptly stood up. “I think that one coffee shop by the STEM building’s still open.” She pointed towards the door, “Let’s take twenty minutes, then come back and finish this once and for all. Sound good?”

You looked at the floor, feeling an ache set in your posture as you slowly straightened your back. Realizing you had been sitting for well over three hours, you groaned, “Sure, that sounds good.” The funny crack in your voice made her snicker, and she held her hand down to you. You took it, and exaggerated another awful noise as you came to stand toe to toe with her.

“Wow. We are not that old, [Y/N].” Taylor scoffed, and you huffed as you walked out with her, “Well, this is the oldest I’ve ever fucking felt, Tay.”

#taylor gentry x reader #final girl x reader #✏️#🍎#10/10 would recommend doing this when you feel utterly sad it helped a bit and got me back on track ;;

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