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abbysgoodgirl · 6 months

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write sum for billie eilish plzzzzz🩷🩷🩷

CAUGHT

a/n: hope this is what you wanted my love 🫶🏼🫶🏼

warnings: fingering (r receiving), oral (billie receiving), mommy kink, thigh riding, aftercare, angst, homophobic parents, age gap, dom!billie, sub!y/n

summary: billie wants to have some fun.. too bad your parents are home

billies age: 23

y/n’s: 18

no one’s pov:

you don’t know how you got here, you and billie were just watching adventure time in your room, when you decided to put your pjs on whilst billie went to the bathroom.

lying back down billie waits for you on the bed, you strip of your joggers and panties grabbing your matching pj pants.

“angel.” billies voice is demanding, dominant.

“yeah bil?” your back is too her, as you stop what your doing to answer her, “stop dressing, get on the bed” she says lowly, you freeze, letting out a nervous chuckle “what?” you breathlessly say.

“you heard me baby, get on the bed” she smirks, her voice more demanding now.

you make your way over to her, slowly laying down next to her half naked. “good girl, you like being told what to do huh?” her hand trails over your body, up your shirt and dangerously close to your panties.

“n-no” you stutter shaking your head, “oh? is that so? your telling me if i touch your pretty pussy you won’t be wet? hm?” billie teases smirking down at you.

“it won’t” you lie, scared “you know i hate when my girl lies to me, do you want to be punished?” she shoves her hand into your panties, earning a shocked moan from you.

“bil we can’t my parents are here” you whimper, trying to push her hand off you.

“better be quiet then honey” she smirks, rubbing your clit, you shove your hand over your mouth trying to suppress your moans.

“cmon pretty on my thigh” billie pats her lap, her favorite thing to do, getting you to ride her thigh. helping you remove your panties, you whimper settling on her thigh, she grabs your hips helping you rock back and forth, letting out a loud whine your eyes widen slapping your hand over your mouth.

billie chuckles, rocking you faster flexing her thigh so it bumps your clit just right, “you look so fucking pretty like this god” billie moans herself, her cunt aching. “i’m gonna cum” you gasp out, grinding harder on her thigh, bringing you to your release.

“fuck” you sigh stilling on her thigh, “shh did so well my love, just breath i got you” billie rubs your back comfortingly.

you bury your face in the crook of her neck, taking deep breaths to calm yourself, “fuck angel” she hisses, feeling you kissing her neck leaving dark hickies, kissing lower you help her remove her shirt, only to find her not wearing a bra.

you pathetically moan at the sight of her huge boobs, billie chuckles rubbing your bare hip, “go on honey” she guides your hands to her boobs.

you squeeze them shyly, pulling her nipples as she lets out breathy moans, you gain some confidence leaning down and taking her nipple in your mouth still playing with the other one.

“yes just like that sweetheart fuck!” billie throws her head back moaning, you feel proud managing to make the older woman feel good, “cmon honey, need you here” she guides your hand in her pants to her dripping core, you stroke her clit gently, helping her take off her joggers and boxers.

laying on your stomach your now face to face with her leaking core, you whine at the sight feeling your cunt ache, “ah ah go on pretty girl, make mommy feel good” hearing those words you immediately dive in, licking and slurping up her pussy, her moans increase in volume as you speed up.

you slip two fingers into yourself too, basically humping the bed so desperate, “oh honey are you that needy for me? go on angel fuck yourself for me” her words brought you closer to the edge.

“mommy” you sob into her pussy, so overstimulated from everything quickly falling into sub space, you had given up on fingering yourself, now your just humping the bed furiously.

“mommy’s here sweet girl, it’s okay cum with me” billie try’s and gets you to calm down slightly and be more quiet, but fails miserably.

your so loud, none of you hear the footsteps coming closer to your room..

“mommy i’m cumming!” your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let go, billie grinds into your face practically suffocating you with her thighs, you can barely breathe but it’s worth it, until the door bursts open to reveal your very angry mum..

billies pov:

as i come down from my high, still squeezing y/n’s head with my thighs oops, the door bursts open nearly flying off the hinges.

my eyes instantly meet her mums very angry ones, “shit y/n cmon get up,” y/n is led between my thighs still, i see a huge wet patch around her indicating she squirted, she must’ve been really overstimulated.

my hands go under y/n’s armpits as i quickly pull her up sitting her next to me, she whines and tries to crawl on my lap, whining more when i keep pushing her off, she clearly hasn’t noticed her mum yet to far in sub space my poor girl.

“what is going on here??!!” her mum basically screams, y/n immediately sits up at that, her eyes go wide and she goes as white as a ghost.

“you how dare you!” she points at y/n shrieking at her, i feel y/n shake next to me terrified out her mind.

“i’m sorry mama” she whimpers out, “sorry??!! that isn’t gonna cut it young lady!” her mum grabs her by the arm dragging her out the room, not caring if she’s fully naked i can tell y/n is petrified and probably feeling very exposed.

as they leave i hear screaming coming from her mum, “she’s five years older than you!” “this is a sin do you hear me!” “i can’t believe your my daughter”

my heart breaks as i hear my girl try and shout back, i hear a loud smack echo through the house and then silence and my heart sinks.

getting out of bed, i ignore my legs feeling like jelly and grab one of my hoodies putting it on quickly, plus grabbing one for y/n knowing she’s still naked.

as i do this i hear the front door slam shut, then silence again.

rushing down the stairs the sight i see breaks my heart, y/n is led on the floor naked, shaking and a red hand mark on her cheek.

“angel..” i whisper slowly coming towards her, crouching down to wipe her tears very carefully and slowly i help her sit up and slip on my hoodie, her face shows no emotion she’s clearly numb from everything.

“she said i need to leave, forever” she says flatly, no emotion in her voice whatsoever, “oh sweet girl, i’m so sorry you can come live with me okay? i got you” i coo rubbing her back gently, i see her holding back the tears.

“let it out my love” i softly say, and that’s all it takes for her to throw herself into my arms and sob loudly.

i don’t move, just sit there and let her cry everything out, we sit there for at least an hour, i know we need to move soon in case her mum comes back, so very carefully i explain that to her helping her stand up and guide her upstairs to pack.

“okay honey, we need to pack your stuff up, you gonna help?” i was still holding her as we sat on the end of her bed, i feel the slightest nod into my chest.

“good girl, let’s go pack”.

time skip ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

we finally finished packing everything, i load it all into my car before getting in the drivers seat handing y/n a blanket and my phone to play on, it’s only a short drive to my house so we arrive in about 10 minutes, y/n doesn’t say anything she just quietly watches adventure time on my phone.

“we’re here honey”, i say to her getting out the car, i go round to her side picking her up and laying her on my couch inside, then heading back outside to grab her bags and suitcase.

it was pretty late so i knew y/n would be tired, i wanted her to have a bath or something and give her proper aftercare but obviously i didn’t get the chance, i’ll have a bath with her tomorrow morning.

i go up into my room placing all her bags down, i get out her stuffed animal putting him on the bed.

i decide to leave un packing to tomorrow, i go back downstairs seeing my baby struggling to keep her eyes open, i pout and carry her upstairs.

“goodnight my precious girl.” i say to a sleeping y/n next to me as we settle in bed, me quickly joining her in dream land.

#billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #꒱ೃ ✦ ꒰ evelyn writes! ꒱ೃ ✦

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firelise · 5 months

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I've seen thousands of Evelyns, but never a Evelyn like you. You have so many goals you never finished. Dreams you never followed. You are living your worst you. I can't be the worst… what about the hot dog one? No. Everyone here agrees. This one's worse.

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (2022)

#this movie has so many good lines its so hard to pick like #'I don't know what the heck is going on. But somehow it feels like this is my fault. I don’t know. The only thing I do know #is that we have to be kind. Especially when we don't know what's going on.' ??? banger #everything everywhere all at once #eeaao #evelyn wang #michelle yeoh #jobu tupaki #cgedits #mygifs #movie gifs #gifsets #film #filmgifs #cinematv #hd gifs #highly recommend reading the script holy fuck how did they write this

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probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

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There hasn't been any interaction between Raeda and Hunter except pretty minor moments:

But man oh man is there common ground now:

I have no clue if they'll do it but it would be really rad if Eda and Hunter stand side by side in front of Philip in Watching and Dreaming, to tell him it's all over.

I want Raeda to adopt himmmm...but it's probs not happenin'..

#the owl house #raeda #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #toh hunter #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #possessed hunter #possessed raine #toh analysis #toh spoilers #1k #2k #loz writes a meta

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thoughtkick · 2 months

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Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.

Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

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findafight · 8 months

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Been thinking about another time travel au...

But this time, it's Robin. Just. Robin. She lands the Friday before Will goes missing, and she immediately assumes Steve went with her. Because of course he time traveled with her, why wouldn't he?

Until she gets to school and sees Steve flirting with Nancy and joking with Carol and Tommy. His eyes glance over her without recognition and she realizes she's alone. She panics every morning period until deciding to just go up and corner Steve at lunch and explain to him, try to prove to him she's actually his best friend from the future, and get help.

It ends up with her sitting on the floor of the boys bathroom crying, holding onto (a very confused and mildly freaked out) Steve's hand, and telling him that her day has sucked because how do you even deal with timetravel without your best friend? How do you deal with trying to save the world without them? She can't do this without him and she's freaking out and she wants her best friend back.

And Steve going "hey, uh. Okay. So... you're my friend in this weird future you're trying to stop? Prove it."

Which is something Robin can do. She stares at him for a long time, thinking, and Steve's huffs

"yeah okay. Super weird prank or whatever. Don't bug me again." And goes to stand up but Robin tugs his hand towards her and stops him.

"you are so impatient! I'm trying to think of something to say that won't freak you out and has actually happened! Gimme a minute!"

And Steve raises his eyebrows but he does wait.

"your aunt Ev." She says, finally. "She was your favourite grownup. Loved star trek. You cried so hard when she died and- uh. At her funeral, your dad got mad at you."

Steve blinks at her, brows furrowed."How...how did you know that? Nobody knows that."

Robin smiles. "Dingus. I'm your best friend from the future. You did."

Steve frowns. "Tell me something else."

"okay" she nods "you and Tommy tell everyone both your first kisses were with Carol but the day before you kissed each other."

"what the fuck."

"do you believe me now? Because seriously I need your help with this but I can keep going."

Swallowing Steve nods. Gives her a hand up.

"great. Okay. So, I think we need to tell Jonathan and Nancy about this. Then go to Joyce and Hopper. I'm not quite sure? You were always better at gameplans honestly."

"what about Tommy and Carol?"

She looks at him, and tilts her head (the same way he does) thinking. "Sure. Why not. They'll be suspicious why we're so buddy buddy now anyways."

#robin buckley #steve harrington #i always sort of picture time travel aus and double visiony. where they know what happens but also their class schedules memorized #stobin #Platonic stobin #just though of robin on the bathroom crying because she cant save the world without steve! but also cant freak him out #with the depths of her knowledge of steve lore #stranger things #finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #robin time travel au #great aunt Evelyn #my beloved oc you are so formative to steve ily

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perfectquote · 2 months

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Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.

Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

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starry-eyed-psychopomp · 1 year

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I just realized…

Caleb and Evelyn’s rebuses were just the old timey version of Luz and Amity’s tamagotchi texts

#the parallels!!!#how many times did Caleb write out some code calling Evelyn pretty?#the owl house #lumity #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #caleb x evelyn

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libraryofgage · 4 months

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A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (you're here!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) (I also have plans for this one actually they just need to simmer a little lmao)

Hi welcome back to my Mummy Crossover where Steve's parents are Rick and Evelyn O'Connell this took forever bcuz the words didn't want to word correctly lmao

Anyway, here we are! Some interactions, some more insight on all of Steve's talents, a teensy bit of chaos killed before it could flourish. What more could you want?

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

--------

"Breathe in."

Steve slowly inhales, keeping his chest and arms steady.

"Now pull as you breathe out."

Steve steadily exhales, squeezing the trigger as he does, and feeling the gun kick in his hand. Several yards away, a tin can that's little more than a speck in the distance topples to the ground.

Before Steve can realize his aim was good, the gun is plucked from his hand and he's lifted into the air. Weightlessness overwhelms him, and he shrieks with delight as he falls back into his father's arms. "That's my boy!" his father says, tossing him into the air again.

"Oh, do be careful, Rick. He broke an arm the last time you threw him around like that," Steve's mother says, a proud smile tugging at her lips despite her words.

Steve finds himself safely held in his father's arms a second later, his heart racing and his breaths short from exhilaration. "Again! Again!" he shouts, looking up at his father hopefully.

"Sorry, kiddo, you heard your mother," his father says, messing up Steve's hair before lifting him onto his shoulders. Steve grips his father's hair tightly, grinning as his father jogs over to the tin can. "You'll be able to shoot running in no time."

"Am I gonna be as good as you?" Steve asks, leaning over his father's head. "How long will that take?"

"You'll be better than me, Steve. It'll take a few years, though. At least one hundred."

"One hundred?! I'm gonna be bones by then! Dust and bones!"

"Nah, you'll be fine," his father says, waving his hand dismissively.

"I'll be dead!"

"In my experience, the dead don't make a habit of staying that way."

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, pinching his father's cheeks and tugging on them until he laughs, grabs Steve's hand, and playfully bites his fingers. Steve shrieks again, laughing as he tugs his hand away and yanks on a few strands of his father's hair for revenge.

------

Steve, Max, and Eddie get discharged within days of each other, and even though Steve was expecting his house to be invaded by his friends, he still finds himself wishing he'd had a few more days with his parents before everyone showed up and started interrogating him. In fact, he almost considers ignoring the doorbell when it rings the day after Max is discharged.

"Steve!" Rick shouts, his voice carrying all the way from his carefully maintained weapons room. "Can you get that?"

"Can't put it off any longer," Robin says, grinning at him from her spot on the couch. She stretches out her leg and nudges Steve's thigh, urging him to get up.

He sighs, pushing himself off the couch and grimacing at the slight tug on his sides. "Got it," he calls back, walking to the door and bracing himself before opening it.

The porch is packed with his friends, Dustin and Eddie at the very front. "Finally!" Dustin says, pushing past Steve to get into the house.

Everyone else streams in after him, and Steve ends up just holding the door. "Yeah, welcome in, make yourselves at home, thanks so much for calling before showing up," he mutters, closing the door after the final person, Will, has walked inside.

He follows after them, relieved they filter into the living room instead of heading to the kitchen. Uncle Jonathan has been in there all day, trying his hand at a new gin brewing technique that makes Steve's head spin just thinking about it.

Steve flops onto the couch next to Robin, dropping his head onto her shoulder. Dustin looks ready to speak, and Steve is ready to pretend he's listening, when his mother walks into the room. She looks around with a concerned frown, her fingers covering her mouth and tapping against her lips. "Steve," she says, her voice slightly distracted, "dónde está el machete de tu papá?"

"En el garaje," he replies, waving off her thanks.

"You speak Spanish?" Max asks, glancing at Evelyn as she walks past her to reach the garage.

"I speak several languages," Steve tells her. He feels the couch shift next to him and looks over to see Will scooting over to make room for Eddie. "Spanish, Hebrew, Arabic, Egyptian, French, Greek, a little Urdu, but that one is rusty."

"Holy shit," Mike says, staring at Steve like he's shapeshifted into an alien, "you're smart?!"

"Wait, is that how you guys cracked the Russian code so quickly?" Dustin asks. "Why did you make Robin learn Russian if you already knew it?"

"I didn't make Robin do anything. She started learning while I called a guy I know who can speak Russian. He only managed to get back to me the same day Robin got the whole thing translated."

"You know a guy who can speak Russian?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at Steve when he glances over.

Steve shrugs. "I know a lot of guys who know a lot of things. I met all of them while traveling with my parents," he explains.

"Where have you been?" Will asks.

"Every continent except Antarctica. More places than I can count, actually."

"Why did you travel so much?" El asks, her gaze drifting toward the mantle where several of his mother's souvenirs are carefully arranged. "Did those come from your travels?"

"I followed my parents while they worked until high school. And yeah, those are souvenirs, you can pick them up, but be careful."

As though the lack of permission was the only thing holding her back, Max jumps up and hurries over to the mantle, pulling down a small jar and turning it over in her hands. Its lid is shaped like the head of Anubis, and Steve is just realizing what she's picked up when his father walks into the room.

Rick stops, stares at the jar in Max's hand, and then marches over to her, a man on a mission. He swipes the jar, ignoring Max's shout in protest, and looks it over carefully. His expression becomes disbelieving, fond, and annoyed all at once. "Evie!" he shouts, turning around and about to go looking for her when she appears in the doorway.

"No need to shout, dear, I was just in the other room," she says, smiling until she sees the jar he's holding.

Her expression says it all, but Rick still holds the jar up, smiles sweetly at her, and asks lightly, "Evie, darling, is this what I think it is?"

"Well," Evelyn says, rolling her shoulders back in a way that tells Steve they're about to argue. And then start kissing like nobody's around. "It very well might be."

"What is it?" Dustin asks, sliding closer to get a better look at the jar when Rick holds it higher.

"Really, Evie? Did you forget the part where these things are cursed? Did you completely forget what happened to the Americans who touched these?"

"Aren't you American?" Max asks.

"And aren't you touching it?" Erica adds.

"It's certainly not cursed anymore," Evelyn says, walking over and easily plucking the jar from Rick's hands. She looks it over, idly brushing off some of the dust. "Imhotep is thoroughly dead. You made sure of that, dear."

"I'm sorry, did she say cursed?" Mike asks.

"Yes," El says.

As Evelyn and Rick stare each other down, Steve sighs and drops his head on the back of the couch. "It's a jar used in ancient Egypt to store the organs of mummies. That one specifically belonged to Imhotep, a mummy with a curse. He ate people and tried to sacrifice my mom to bring his girlfriend back and killed a bunch of Americans in the process. But Mom and Dad defeated him, like, twice and he hasn't been a problem since, so Mom is pretty sure he's gone for good now."

"There is no way any of that is true," Max says, huffing as Rick takes the jar back before Evelyn can even think of letting Max look at it again. "I mean, seriously? Mummies?"

"Oh, inter-dimensional monsters are perfectly believable, but mummies are a step too far?" Steve asks.

"Inter-dimensional monsters?" Evelyn asks, whirling around on Steve and placing her hands on her hips.

"So that's where he gets it from," Eddie says, his voice soft and more than a little amused.

Before Steve can comment on that (or try to kick Eddie from where he's sitting on the couch), his father moves to stand next to his mother, arms crossed over his chest with a stern look and still holding the jar. "Wanna share with the class, kid?" he asks.

Steve grimaces, knowing that tone of voice and sinking a little lower on the couch. "Not really, no. Most of the class is already in the loop."

"Humor us," his mother says, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument.

"Gee," Erica says, shifting closer to the doorway, "I'm suddenly feeling pretty hungry. Anyone else wanna go loot the kitchen?"

"I'm in," Max says, hurrying across the room in long strides.

"So are we," Mike adds, grabbing Will's hand and dragging him along before he can get caught up in whatever shit storm might occur. Lucas quickly follows after, flashing an apologetic smile at Steve once he's behind Evelyn and Rick.

They've all disappeared before Steve can warn them about Jonathan's gin experiments, but he figures they deserve to have their nostrils burned from the smell for abandoning him.

Only Steve, Robin, Eddie, Dustin, and El are left with Steve's parents frowning and looking at them expectantly. Steve manages to hold out under their stare for a few seconds before he sighs, sits up straight, and waves for them to sit in the loveseat perpendicular to the couch.

Once they're settled, he glances at Dustin, gets a shrug in return, and rolls his eyes. Robin places a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention to flash a grin and say, "Good luck, dingus. Just know I'll be thoroughly entertained by the end of this."

"Gee. Thanks."

Eddie snorts, settles back into the couch, and helpfully offers, "I mean, it can't be worse than being the main course of a demobat feast, right?"

"Oh, I assure you," Evelyn says, her eyes narrowing, "it certainly can."

"Oh, damn," Eddie says, shaking his head, "What do you want on your tombstone, Stevie?"

Steve rolls his eyes as Robin laughs and high-fives Eddie. He ignores them for now, secretly grateful for the lighter feeling in his chest that their joking has given him, and looks at his parents. "I guess it started with Will's disappearance."

-------

Tag List (there should be room still! So, if you'd like a tag, let me know!)

@trueghostqueen, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @mogami13, @blcksh33p1987, @beawritingbooks, @remus-is-trans, @your-confused-friend, @estrellami-1, @nburkhardt, @vacantwatchers, @yeahhhh-suga, @phantomcat94

@blackpanzy, @ape31, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @plantzzsandpencilzzs, @flustratedcas, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @just-a-tiny-void, @disrespectedgoatman, @fallingleavesinthewind, @nymime, @nectandra, @moomkin77, @nadenia, @resident-disappointment, @copper-arrows, @romanticdestruction, @rowanshadow26

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #the mummy 1999 crossover #rick o'connell #evelyn o'connell #jonathan carnahan #steve deserves good parents actually #i'm realizing i always post these late at night lmao #work really do be having me writing late orz #anyway i battled valiantly and still got defeated by some of the tags on this list i'm #i just don't know why some of them don't link properly :/

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quotefeeling · 5 months

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Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.

Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

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stardewvalleybut-i-draw · 4 months

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Humming a tune (writing)

Evelyn notices the farmers both seem to sometimes hum to themselves SO she decides to approach the male farmer and ask what tune he's humming in order to get to know him better.

Word count: 1,378 words (so medium I guess)

Characters: Evelyn and Mask Farmer.

Vibe: nice and wholesome moments :) I'm not really experienced in writing but I'll do my best to make it coherent, enjoy! :D and with pictures!

A lovely spring and sunny day welcomed the valley. Evelyn tends to the town square flowers, putting care and attention to each one.

It's the town's flowers after all. The people in the valley need to be represented properly!

It was nice to be out in the center of the town square on days like this. It allowed her to greet anyone who went through, give them a big warm smile, and catch up about what was happening that day. It was also nice to be able to bathe in the sun's warmth and reminisce on the past and how the valley had changed over the years. In came the male farmer with focused eyes, dedicated to a goal in his mind, ignoring everything around him. She could tell he was passing even with her bad vision by the sound of his fast and heavy footsteps, always in a rush. Both the farmers often cross here in the mornings, although Evelyn really only saw the sister out. Both would look at the bulletin board outside of Pierre's shop, check the calendars, and go on with their daily routine but only she would talk to Evelyn and the other townspeople. "Perhaps he's shy," Evelyn thought seeing him walk to the Help Wanted board. He greeted her once when they both first arrived in Pelican Town and he hasn't talked to her since then...or anyone besides for transactional reasons it seemed. Evelyn's face grew sad at the thought. The poor boy was ignored by everyone or treated as an anomaly to be feared and avoided. It didn't seem to bother the farmer but her heart could not let it be. "The flowers can be tended later, it was about time someone bothered to try and have a nice conversation with him" Evelyn thought. She began to walk towards the farmer who was still reading the Help Wanted note and noticed he was humming something. Thinking about it now, the farmers both tend to hum a tune to themselves. It's almost never the same song and seems to change throughout the seasons. "Excuse me, dear" she asked beside the farmer "May I ask what tune you are humming?"

The Farmer jolts in shock and turns towards her. "Oh I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to startle you." Evelyn says apologetically "I was just curious about the songs you hum to yourself, they sound very nice, was it a band back in the city?" He was really expecting anyone to talk to him today so Evelyn's Interruption took him back a bit. He also had a lot to do but her soft genuine smile guilt tripped him to take the time to answer her. "The song doesn't exist." The farmer stated bluntly "Oh"

Not the answer Evelyn was expecting. She had sworn she heard both the farmers hum the same tune.

Very curious she continued "So did you come up with the tune?" "No" the Farmer responds "I hear them In my head." Evelyn's confused expression let him know it made no sense to her but he couldn't really find another way to explain it besides being direct and honest. Maybe he should have lied, he thought. His sister did all the time to explain weird things like this but her genuine curiosity stopped him from lying to her face. Could he really lie to sweet little granny Evelyn? Evelyn saw the farmer's face slightly turn from her in shame. She didn't really understand the answer but she didn't want him to feel ashamed of his response so she softly said "It's ok. I don't need to understand it, do you like the songs? The farmer nods.

"Oh, that's nice to hear, I assume the song changes through the season? do you hear it all the time?" "Yeah..." he responds. She could tell the Farmer was starting to get uncomfortable with her questions so she tried to ease his nerves. "You know...your grandpa used to do the same thing too" The farmer looks at her in surprise "It's true!" she exclaims Evelyn begins to walk to the town flowers gesturing for the farmer to follow. The farmer does so.

"When he used to run the farm, he would whistle songs to himself while he worked" Evelyn reminisced. "Your grandpa used to say he would hear the valley singing to him, he would call it a superpower! Not many of us understood what he meant but by the sounds of it, I guess it was passed down to you"

The farmer smiles and chuckles at the idea. Their Grandpa did used to whistle a lot on the farm. It was only a faint memory since both he and his sister were so young when they used to visit. In a sense, the valley was singing to them.

"If it's not too much, could you hum a bit of the song you hear?" she asked The farmer paused for a second. He looked slightly at the sky and listened. He did his best to match the tune but it was difficult when there was more than one instrument to hum in his head.

Evelyn listened internally and cheered for the farmer once he had stopped. She could tell he was embarrassed by it but genuinely flattered. "You have a very lovely voice dear, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, oh!-" she interrupted herself. "I heard there was a band in town, maybe you should join, I think you would make a lovely addition!" He knew she was talking about Sam's band but he hadn't really talked to the guy... or anyone in that band. Sometimes he saw Abigail up in the mountains or Sebastian taking a smoke break but never really paid them any attention. He never needed to. Evelyn begins to tend to the flowers as she speaks. "You don't need to if you don't want to. I can tell you don't like to talk much, I don't want to pressure you."

She pauses.

"but I can tell you like to listen" The farmer had never really thought about it that way before... but when you don't say much, the only other choice is to listen to the world around you. "I know not many of us can understand you and I've noticed others treat you differently because of that" Evelyn gently places her hands on top of the farmer's hand. "-but I don't want you to feel like you're not part of the town. You will always be welcomed here...no matter how odd you are"

The farmer softly smiled to Evelyn. "Well," Evelyn exclaimed. "I don't want to hold your day up much longer but If you ever want to talk more about your grandpa or just to hear an old lady ramble about the past, I'm always here for you" The farmer is quiet for a second, taking in her words. "Thank you." He says. "Ohhh, no need to thank me, I haven't done anything, sweetie" She replied but the farmer quickly responded. "You did." Evelyn curiously looked at him confused. "You talked to me."

Evelin's heart was touched beyond words as the farmer leaned down to hug her. She squeezed as hard as her weak arms would allow and stayed there for as long as he needed. But the farmer quickly got up, smiled, and began to walk to the mines. They waved each other goodbye and moved on with their days. The warm moment being over just like that. As the farmer walked up the mountain he began to think. It was only a small moment. It had never really bothered him that the town viewed him as a cryptid. He often reveled in being odd, weird, and feared. He didn't have much of an interest in getting to know anyone. But Granny Evelyn had warmed his heart. Maybe he didn't need to be so cold to everyone. Maybe he should stop by and chat before heading to the mines. It's not like the caves are going anywhere. Maybe... ...he'll stop by and get some cookies :)

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #stardew farmer #sdv farmer #sdv evelyn #please let me know about spelling or writing mistakes btw!#I am VERY dyslexic and spell checker can only do so much :(#SDVBID art

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uaravsh · 5 months

Text

"Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there's no room for the present at all."

- Evelyn Waugh, "Brideshead Revisited" (@uaravsh )

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perfeqt · 1 year

Quote

Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.

Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

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perfectfeelings · 9 months

Quote

Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.

Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

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fleuraimer · 2 months

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…. perhaps a harry x reader blurb to spare 🤲 i will take anything u want to give me. fluff or smut or both or neither ❤️❤️❤️❤️ u rock and my name is also evelyn so i feel bonded to u

u've absolutely made my day with this evelyn :((( i hope you like what i've concocted bestie, she's kinda all over the fucking place, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy <33

wc: 2k

cw: not much, super fluffy, mildly (perhaps majorly) suggestive. not suitable for ramadan!! not proofread. lmk if i missed anything pls!!

Spring is here.

Fucking finally.

All the seasons were lovely to Y/N, each offered something the others didn’t—couldn’t. But spring was different. Special.

Like him.

Like Harry.

Perhaps that’s why her love for it blossomed like the tulips lining her bedroom window; there was something about seeing her usually soft boyfriend get ten times softer as leaves started to sprinkle branches, blades of grass flashed a vibrant green once more, and the sun kissed the earth that got to her tender heart.

It was especially difficult to not melt when he’d planned a small outing for them, centered around the perfectly warm weather. Instead of waiting until nightfall and driving to some stuffy restaurant (although their dinner dates were never anything less than exquisite), they walked hand-in-hand down the boulevard in broad daylight, gentle wisps of wind the only thing surrounding them, as well as the quiet conversation of other passersby.

They didn’t talk. They didn’t have to. They were perfectly content to relish in the mere presence of one another—soak in the rays of sun, and warmth. Love.

Thumbs gave mindless, delicate strokes against the back of palms, rucking up rings, kissing knuckles in apology, and putting them back in place, just to repeat it all over again. The knitted fabric of Harry’s cardigan is soft when it brushes against Y/N’s bare arm (she decided that it was absolutely perfect weather to slip on her favorite flowy sundress, cinched at the waist and flared at the hips, printed with obnoxiously serene-looking flowers and hummingbirds, with a square neckline that farmed the intricate necklace Harry bought her for their second anniversary quite stunningly), but his hand in hers was softer. Better.

Said hand tugs on hers, urging her away from the beaten path and into the ravine of tall, never-ending trees—willows and oaks; sycamores, birches, and maples, too. She resists, no less. Looks down at the cobblestone beneath her soles, and the cute kitten heels that (in her humble opinion) tie her whole spring-era look together.

She pouts.

And then a head of chocolate obscures her view of the pristine, white triangle toes. A hand placed both respectfully and salaciously on her ankle, coaxing her foot to slip from its confines, makes her breath catch in her suddenly dry throat.

Her kind eyes glaze over, ever so slightly.

“Y’don’t have’t—”

“I want to, Bellissima.”

Her shoe slips from her foot with a soft clatter on the ground when he manages to pry her sole from the earth, but it barely registers in her brain. In fact, everything else seems to fade away into the lovely spring that encompasses them when Harry guides his hand further up, along her fleshy calf, and leans in to place a chaste, staggering kiss to the bridge of her foot.

She wobbles, but they both know it’s not because she’s been left to balance on one foot.

Harry smiles, faint—the crater in his stubbled cheek is nearly invisible—and nudges his nose along the smooth skin of her leg.

He works diligently (as diligently as one can when removing a shoe) to rid Y/N of her footwear, relieving her of any worry or pain.

He looks pleasantly boyish when he looks up at her, smiles all cheeky, and winks for good measure. Kneeling on cobblestone in a worn pair of jeans, suede, dirty Adidas, and a vintage band tee that smells of stale coffee, Chanel No. 5 (one of many preferred perfumes of Y/N), and sex no matter how many times they run it through the wash; the green of his seafoam eyes twinkling in the sunlight, sunnies pushing his hair back, and yet one rogue curl still bends and twirls with the wind, falling in a perfectly aesthetic spiral when it settles…

Soft. Boyfriend. Hers.

Her Harry.

He stands to his full height, and they’re much closer than she’d thought they would be, but she’s certainly not complaining. Where before she stood at (about) Harry’s collarbone, now her head barely reaches the underside of his pecs. Her neck strains to keep eye contact as he slips his free hand back into her awaiting palm, the latter of which occupied with their stuffed picnic basket, and now her precious kitten heels.

“Need me to carry you?” He asks, ready to suffer at least a week’s worth of back pain if it meant he’d keep that love-struck, glowy, adorable (subby, stupid, filthy) look on his girl’s face.

Y/N’s eyes widen subtly, though enough for Harry to notice, and he can’t help but have to stifle a chuckle at her bashful demeanor.

“No, thank you,” she squeaks, and now she’s the one tugging his hand, urging them into the abyss of greenery, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The grass feels soft, ticklish, between her powder pink painted toes; she feels her lips stretch into a small grin because of it. They walk idly until they find a soft patch of vividly green grass directly under a tree, kissed fleetingly by the rays of sunlight peaking through the gaps of branches and leaves.

Harry lets his hand fall from Y/N’s (and can’t help but feel slightly colder because of it) to unpack their picnic basket. He grabs the signature red gingham picnic blanket from its place in the basket, releasing its folded form with a flourish. The material floats gracefully through the air until settling on the grass, near gingerly with the way it stops at just the very tips of the blades.

He kicks his chin toward the blanket in invitation as he settles on top of it himself, beginning to remove the contents inside their basket. Sandwiches, fruits, veggies; assorted cheeses and meats, cake, and, arguable most important, wine. He wastes no time in popping the cork from the rouge, pouring a generous amount into each of the pinot noir glasses he’d carefully tucked in the picnic basket.

Y/N kneels onto the blanket, walking on her knees until Harry is within reach, and his incessantly grabby hands are (surprise, surprise!!) grabbing her. He hands her her wine glass and sets his off to the side for the time being, sliding his bear palms up the full of her thighs, the swell of her bum, small of her back…

She shivers as they pet down again, nails biting at her hips to grip and pull her into his lap.

“Too far,” he grumbles, nuzzling in the space where her neck and collarbone meet. He peppers soft kisses along the strong bone, inhaling the natural, overwhelming scent of her. His girl.

Y/N goes easily, sipping slowly at her red wine while her free hand comes up to his hair, fingers threading through the fluffy tendrils. She snatches his sunnies away when they block her half-hearted scalp massage, muttering delicate apologies when the bend of them gets stuck in his hair and he hisses at the sting.

“Sorry, Baby,” she winces herself, chucking the damned glasses onto the blanket when she’s gotten them loose, kissing along the crown of his head to soothe any ache.

She sips more, tart grape hitting her tongue, sugary plum sliding down her throat, strawberry slicking her lips. She’s borderline greedy with the way she downs it, but they’ve got nowhere to be. Only here. Just here. Now.

She twists in Harry’s laps to grab one of the homemade BLTs, offering the half she won’t stuff her fat gob with to Harry, which he politely accepts. They munch quietly, sharing soft smiles and love-sick kisses in between bites. Conversation is sparse, but not bad. Never bad. If anything, the weight of their words is heavier because they’re so few and far between.

They both like it that way, anyhow.

When their feast has dwindled down to nothing but a few fruits and cakes, Harry fishes his phone from his pocket, and reaches in the picnic basket to grab his trusty pair of wired headphones. Hooking them up to his phone, he looks expectantly to Y/N. She raises her brow, never one to move unprompted.

Harry smirks, “Come, Bellissima.”

Her heart flitters, her stomach flutters, and her eyes round out (Harry tries not to think about how fucking easy—). She crawls back to him, in a way that is unnecessarily intimate and innocent, and simultaneously astoundingly nasty, but he tucks the image into the deep, deep, dark recess of his mind so he doesn’t get arrested for public indecency. Saves it for later (call it his spankbank).

He tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before handing her and earbud, and lying down on his side. She follows, the two inserting the device into their ears at the same time. Her head instantly floods with staggered strings and piano, static, and then bass. Saxophone and acoustic guitar being delicately plucked, followed by a heady, gentle voice, similar to Bowie (but never as iconic).

“About You,” she whispers to him, her lips quirking.

Harry nods. Smiles, “The 1975.”

As the music progresses—the subtle vibrato of Matty Healy’s croon, the crescendo of each instrument and sound blending together to create one beautiful, extravagant, mind-bending symphony—Y/N swears she can see all five oceans in his eyes. The clear, breathtaking reefs, the lines that separates it from the rest of the water, dividing the calm from the chaos, the serene from the danger. She sees the deep, the unknown she wishes the dive further into, explore and discover, treasure for nothing but her own heart. And the seafoam that crashes up against the shore, the way it bubbles with joy and glistens in the light of the sun at the horizon, ever so fleeting as it washes back down the grains of sand.

She sees it all.

“S’pretty,” she mumbles, scooting closer as much as she can.

Harry wraps the arm not tucked under his head around her waist, pulling her closer. His eyes flit dazedly between her two.

She may see the ocean, but he sees the sky. The constellations, laid out for him beautifully, his for the taking. His.

He nods, “S’pretty.” Bumps his nose childishly against hers, smiles softly, triumphantly, when it scrunches up. His eyebrows pull together in the center, and he huffs a breath through his nose, “S’fucking gorgeous, Stellina.”

His mouth is on her before she can ask for a translation (there’s only some many Italian pet names a girl can recall) tongue prodding at the seem of her lips until they give way and he can slide the wet muscle against her own. She tastes of their shared wine and vanilla buttercream, and he tastes of fresh peaches, mozzarella, and tangy balsamic vinegar. And yet, somehow, it mixes together to create something new, something better, arguably. He fits her bottom lip between his two, nipping and sucking at the plump flesh, pulling breathy whimpers and faint moans from his lover. His grunts and groans in response are no less self-deprecating (they were both, admittedly, getting extremely hot over a couple of third date level kisses).

Neither paid it much mind, however. Especially not when Harry flips around so he’s lying on his back and she’s pressed firmly against his torso, belly’s melding, chests grazing. Y/N can’t stifle her soft gasp at the heavy weight of Harry against her inner thigh, but she can’t reprimand him, for she is no better—there’s a puddle in the gusset of her panties.

“Harry,” she whines, lashes fluttering when his hands find the swell of her bum and squeeze through the flimsy fabric of her sundress.

“G'na take y'home now, Bellissima,” he husks against her open mouth, tongue flicking at the swollen mess. “Fuck you the way y'deserve for being such a good girl today—” She bristles, rocking into him and crying out softly because of it. “—and if y'keep it up, we’ll go to tha’ cute little flee market y'keep tellin’ me about, yeah?”

She’s being bribed with his (impeccable; divine; otherworldly) cock and her love for all things vintage.

“Can we go to the botanical garden, too?”

Harry snorts, issues a teasing spank to her bum that makes her squeal, but smiles, nevertheless. “Sure, Baby, whatever y'want.”

(Impeccable; divine; otherworldly) Cock, a flee market, and a botanical garden?

She’s in heaven. In happiness. In full bloom.

She fucking adores spring.

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