Some silly little stories for the queer girlies😜😜 Im going to try to update every week maybe multiple times but that's not a promise anyways it's gxg and the cover is also made by me Requests are welcome!!

no longer updating

They say love makes you crazy, so what does that make her? (Taylor Swift x Female Reader)

"No, seriously. Picture this: you walk into Austin's rehearsal dinner with someone absolutely stunning on your arm. Someone successful, charming, completely devoted to you. Someone who makes everyone in that room realise what an absolute moron Joe was for letting you go." "And where exactly am I supposed to find this hypothetical perfect person who's willing to fake being madly in love with me for a week?" Gigi's smile turned almost predatory. "That's the beauty of it. You don't have to find them. There are... services for this kind of thing." "Services." Taylor's voice was flat. "High-end companionship. Ultra-exclusive, ultra-confidential. Think of it as hiring an actor for the performance of a lifetime. And if you really want to mess with his head, if you want to show him just how much he underestimated you..." She trailed off, and Taylor raised a brow. "What?" "A woman." Taylor set her wine glass down, suddenly very much sober. "Absolutely not." OR In which Taylor Swift, in an impulsive move, decides to hire luxury escort Jordan Hayes to get revenge on her ex-boyfriend, who's groomsman at her brother's wedding. SHORT STORY | Taylor Swift x Jordan Hayes (Female OC) - gxg / wlw

"You're staring at her," my friend sighs. "I'm not," I reply. "Simply just gazed over in a direction and she was there." "Then why was that look on your face?" "What?" I ask. "What look?" "You look a certain way when you see her," she informs. "You look at her and it's like you are staring at some sort of galaxy." "And?" "You love galaxies." ---- In which Taylor Swift, months before the biggest tour of her career, disappears not for rest, but for something more intimate: silence, slowness, and a borrowed kind of anonymity. She takes a position at a small university under conditions wrapped in non-disclosure and sealed lips, trading stadiums for seminar rooms and lecture halls, and the spotlight for the sound of her own thoughts, uninterrupted. She comes to teach, to disappear without vanishing. To slip between the chapters of someone else's life without rewriting her own. Vivienne Langford is already a name on campus-well-liked, well-feared, and rarely understood. She moves like someone who knows every eye is already on her, speaks with a kind of careless precision that leaves people listening long after she's gone. Confident. Mouthy. Brilliant without ever begging to be noticed. There are rumors, of course. Girls like her always collect them. Taylor tells herself it's nothing. That she's in control. That this semester is about literature, not longing. But pages turn. Eyes linger. And Vivienne begins to feel less like a student and more like the story Taylor can't stop reading. Boundaries blur, silence speaks louder than names, and the line between desire and danger becomes paper-thin.