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itsvelyria · 3 months

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"types of smiles the f1 boys would love from their s/o"

happy show-your-loved-ones-you-love-them day!! 🤍🤎

Charles Leclerc

the shy smile: he fell in love with you when he saw that smile for the first time. he always knew you were too good, too nice to this cruel world and despite all the hardships you’d faced, you somehow still retained that innocence from childhood. that shy smile, all gentle and modest — he liked to think you reserved it solely for him, made his heart flutter like a schoolboy with their first crush all over again. your lowered eyes, radiating a certain charm he could never put to words. it was like he was cleansed from all the negativity that accompanied his line of work. maybe it would be better to say he was your devoted follower, begging his goddess for just a glimpse of her smile every so often.

Carlos Sainz

the loving smile: it wasn’t like Carlos had never had a crush before, hell he’s been in a long-term relationship before. but never has he felt the pull to you so strong before, even as you are right across him, laughing at something his sister said. his mind can only focus on the way your eyes sparkle at dinner with his family, mapping the crinkles beside them. and as the gaze he is dying to have land on him does, the bright smile shifts, edges softening into fondness, the slight raise of your eyebrows asking what he needed. he reaches across the table, greedily needing to feel your warmth too, wanting this moment to last forever.

Danny Ricciardo

the smirk: he can see it taunting him even from a few feet away, in the neon pink glow of the club. you were teasing him, challenging him after a casual remark about how you had no game. the glances you send up at the second level where he hung by the railing shoots sparks of green fury in him. he should have known better; you were nothing if not confident and it was evident in the guy you had been grinding against for the past 15 minutes. he hated everything about this, his skin felt like it was on literal fire, and he had half a mind to go down to the floor to drag you away. perhaps Max had a point, maybe he needed to face the reality that he had feelings for you.

George Russell

the warm smile: miles away from your hometown, new cities every week, away from everything and everyone he'd ever known, you were his anchor. your presence grounded him when it felt like the world was spiralling away and he had absolutely no control over anything. he waited as you spoke to a member of the team, the warm smile on your face taking the tension out of the new girl. it was the same smile you brought to restaurants and parties, making the people around feel at home. it was the same smile you gave him in his moments of uncertainty. you bounded over happily, saying something about the same school, with the new girl trailing behind and as he smiled at his colleague, something in his brain told him that things may change and ebb away but your smile could never.

Lando Norris

the proud smile: his whole life, he’s been working to be the best – to stand on the topmost step of the podium and hold that trophy up, to have people acknowledge him as a great driver, the best in the world. and he’s one step closer, the first race win of his career, a step towards greater things. he could feel the elation emitting from his entire team, but the pats on his back and cheers from his team couldn’t compare with that beam on your face. even all the way up on the podium, the only thing he was focused on was your face and how it resembled a mother hen looking on her chick. he pumps the trophy higher, the sense of pride bursting in his chest and all he could think about was how he was going to be a better driver, a better man, for you.

Lewis Hamilton

the comforting smile: it was the slightest tilt of your lips, the light from his nightstand outlining the soft frame of your body. the smile in your voice was easy to detect even as he laid his head on your tummy, exhausted from a long day of endless meetings and emails. sometimes, he wonders why he works so hard. his life has already amounted to so much and he had accumulated enough life experience to know the most important thing was family and his sweetheart. and then its nights like this, when the world beyond your sanctuary is dead asleep and everything fades away, leaving only what mattered: the gentle vibration under his head and your sweet lullaby and smile telling him nothing was more important than this moment right now.

Max Verstappen

the smiling eyes: the Internet had never been a nice place to him. sneers and belittling comments deterring him from ever going on there if he had a choice. but as a 3-time World Champion, his social media obligations were more important than before. when you two started dating, he wanted to keep it private. everything bad in the world, in his opinion, had no chance of ever hurting you as long as he was around. which is also why he never brought you to races. the fewer the interactions between you, the less there was for the media to scrutinize. but it was moments like this, as the camera pans to you in the garage. your face is hidden but your eyes are bright and admiring him in his element, your name broadcasted with his beneath, told to whoever was watching, that he bookmarks the image in his mind.

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wholoveseggs · 3 months

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Indulgences

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Part Two

Elijah returns to the club, seeking solace in the dimly lit corners. You navigate the allure of his wealth and charm while trapped in the grip of your possessive boyfriend.

3.5k words - Warnings: light smut, red door elijah {my interpretation of him}, drug use, adult themes, domestic abuse, violence, blood drinking.

Please be aware that there is domestic abuse going on in this part, do not read if you are uncomfortable.

{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

"Baby, that's not what we discussed," Jordan whined, his hands finding their way to your body.

You were trying to cook dinner for the two of you, something simple and quick. Jordan's hands roamed your body, groping your breasts and ass. You sighed, pushing his hands away.

"I paid you back already, I'm keeping the rest, I earned it," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Babe, don't be like that; I got bills too," he cooed, stepping closer to you, kissing your neck.

"I'm not in the mood," you snapped, pushing him away.

"You're always in the mood," he murmured, his hand slipping between your legs.

"No, Jordan, I'm not," you protested, trying to squirm away from him. He held you firmly, his grip tight.

"Come on, babe, just a quickie," he said, his tone pleading.

"I have work soon," you replied, trying to stay calm.

He grew rigid, his jaw clenched, a familiar fury filling his gaze.

"So it's just a matter of time until you're riding some other guy's cock?"

You were stunned, his words cutting through you. You couldn't find the words to respond.

"You think I'm stupid? I know what you do," he sneered, his words dripping with venom.

"Jordan, please, we've been over this," you snapped in frustration.

He grabbed your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin. "Don't fucking talk to me like that," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Let go of me," you cried, trying to pull away.

He gripped your arm, pulling you towards him. His free hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing, his fingers pressing into your flesh.

"Thirty thousand for a lap dance, that's fucking bullshit. You must've sucked his dick, or something. You're not worth that much." His voice was cold, his eyes filled with rage.

"I didn't do anything, I danced for him and his brother, that's all. I didn't sleep with him," you choked out, tears filling your eyes. "You know I don't do that," you added, trying to reason with him.

"You're a fucking liar," he hissed, his hand tightening around your throat.

You struggled against him, desperate to break free.

"You're hurting me; please stop," you begged, clawing at his hands.

He let go, his expression shifting to one of feigned concern. "Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he said, his hands cupping your face.

Your mind was a foggy mess; you felt so disoriented. "You always lose control when you get high," you murmured, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I know, I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing you.

"It's okay," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I just love you so much and I hate the thought of other men touching you," he said, his voice soft, sincere.

"I know, it's not like that," you reassured him, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Come on, baby, I'll finish dinner; you go get ready for work," he said, stepping back, a smile on his face.

"Are you sure?" you asked, glancing at the clock.

"Yeah, go on," he replied, ushering you towards the bedroom.

You showered and got dressed, your mind racing. He'd apologized, again, but he never changed, not really. The abuse would stop for a while, then he'd be back to his old ways, blaming you, making you feel worthless. You looked in the mirror, examining the marks on your throat. They were faint but noticeable, and you wondered if you should cover them up. You applied concealer to the bruises, but you knew they were still there, a reminder of the power Jordan had over you.

After dinner you snuck into your bedroom and stuffed the money into your purse, then left for work. You would stash it in your locker, it could get stolen, but it was safer than leaving it with Jordan.

You stepped into the club, the loud music pulsing through the air, the smell of alcohol and sweat filling your nose. You went to the bar, greeted the bartender, and picked up a tray of drinks. You made your rounds, delivering the drinks to the various tables, smiling when the clients complimented you.

You watched the dancers, their bodies twisting and grinding against the poles, their faces masks of ecstasy. You wondered if you would ever get there, if you would ever reach that point of bliss, where your body and mind were completely at peace.

The night went on, and you continued to serve drinks, flirting and teasing the customers. It was a slow night, no VIPs or special clients. You wandered back to the dressing room, lighting a cigarette, the smoke filling your lungs.

You sat at your vanity, a frown on your face, the red mark on your neck was getting more and more noticeable.

You sighed, and pulled out a small baggie with your last remaining pill, you crushed it with the back of a nearby hairbrush and snorted it, the drug burning your nose.

"That fucking hot client from the other night is in the lobby," Tiffany announced as she walked in with Kelly, her voice breathless.

"The one with the fancy suit?" Kelly asked, her eyes wide.

"What about the other one? I heard 'Stace and 'Ton made twenty grand each off him," another girl named Jenna added.

"No, just the suit guy," Tiffany replied, her voice excited.

You perked up, the drugs kicking in, the rush of chemicals making you feel better.

"How many? What room?" Kelly asked, a wicked grin on her face.

"Platinum again, and he requested a specific girl," Tiffany answered.

"Lucky bitch, do you know who? Not Stacy, I hope," Jenna pouted, a frown on her face.

"No clue, Mitch was handling the booking, and you know how he is," Tiffany sighed, her lips pursed.

"Suit guy is so fine; I'd pay him to let me sit on his face," Kelly said, her cheeks flushed.

You laughed, your body relaxing, the stress of the day fading away.

"You think he'd be into that? Letting you sit on his face?" Jenna asked, a mischievous look in her eye.

"Only one way to find out," Kelly replied, her eyes twinkling.

"If he's paying twenty grand for a dance, he probably has a fetish, or he's some sort of freak," Jenna mused, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't care; he's hot and he pays well, and that's all I need," Kelly retorted.

"Wait, y/n, didn't you see him the other night?" Tiffany asked, her eyes locking onto you.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, trying not to sound too excited.

"What was he like? What did he want?" Kelly questioned, her voice eager.

"It was pretty normal, just a dance and some conversation; he was polite and well-mannered," you answered, trying not to think too much about the events of that night; it was all hazy in your mind.

"Do you think you're the one he requested?" Jenna asked, her voice hopeful.

"I doubt it; he probably doesn't remember me," you replied, shaking your head.

"Well, let's find out, shall we?" Kelly said, grabbing your hand and leading you to the lobby.

You followed her, your heart pounding, the drugs making your blood rush, your mind cloudy. You weren't expecting to have to do a private dance, and you were afraid that you were far too high for such an occasion.

You entered the lobby, the air smelling of cigars and cologne, the soft murmur of voices filling the air. Mitch spotted you before you saw him.

"There you are. You are needed in the platinum room," he said, his eyes darting between you and Kelly.

"Just me?" You asked, your voice soft.

"Yes, just you. You've been requested," he replied, a frown on his face.

"Oh, um, alright. I'll be right there," you murmured, turning to Kelly.

"Guess I was right, lucky bitch," she grinned, giving you a playful smack on the ass.

You left the lobby, your heart pounding, the walk up to the suite feeling longer than it usually did. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and opened the door.

The room was the same as before, the lighting soft, the furniture plush, but the atmosphere was different. It was charged, electrified, the tension in the air thick and heavy.

Elijah was sitting in the center of the couch, his legs crossed, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His dark eyes were locked onto you, a hungry look in them.

"Hello, how are you?" His voice was smooth and velvety.

You walked over to him, a sway in your hips, and sat next to him.

"I didn't expect to see you again," you cooed, looking up at him.

"Me neither," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

You smiled and touched his chest; his suit jacket was already off, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

You leaned forward, your lips close to his, and whispered, "What do you need, handsome?"

His lips curled into a smile, a seductive expression crossing his face, "you," he replied.

You straddled him, your knees resting on either side of his hips, his hands automatically coming to rest on your waist.

"Is this okay?" You asked, your hands roaming over his chest.

"More than okay," he murmured, his hands slipping lower, cupping your ass.

You grind against him, the friction between your legs making you wet, the drugs amplifying the feeling. The way he was looking at you, like he wanted to devour you, was driving you wild. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"You're not as shy tonight," you teased, your lips grazing his jaw.

"You make it hard to be shy," he replied, his breath warm against your neck.

"Tell me what you want, handsome," you whispered, your tongue flicking over his earlobe.

He hummed in response, grazing his teeth along your neck, sending a shiver through you. You were intoxicated by his presence, his scent, the feel of his body against yours, you didn't know if it was the drugs or the man himself. You suddenly felt a sharp pain in your neck, and gasped, trying to pull away, but he just pressed you closer to him, his mouth working against your skin.

You felt a tingling sensation, a warm pleasure radiating from the spot, the feeling spreading through your body. Your mind was clouded, your thoughts jumbled, the drugs making everything feel surreal.

"It's okay, don't fight it," Elijah whispered, his voice low, soothing.

You let out a moan, the feeling overwhelming you, your body arching against him.

"That's it, good girl," he praised, his fingers gripping your ass.

You lost yourself in the sensations, your body responding to his touch, his voice. He pulled back, blood on his lips and took your trembling hands in his.

"Don't be afraid" he cooed, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

You looked into his eyes, and saw a strange glint, something animalistic, almost predatory. His eyes were too dark, too deep, and you could feel yourself getting lost in them.

"You're not human are you? You're something else." You said, your voice barely a whisper.

"No, not all of me," he replied, a faint smile on his face. "I'm a vampire," he admitted, searching your face for a reaction.

Your pulse quickened, and a cold fear crept into your chest, mixing with the drugged up warmth. Your mind racing, trying to process his words, trying to understand them. You felt a strange sense of deja vu, flashes of the first night you danced for him, the feeling of his hands on you, his lips against yours, the taste of his blood.

"You’ve done this before haven't you? You drank my blood. I don't remember but I can feel it," you confessed, your voice quiet.

"Yes, beautiful, I made you forget ," Elijah replied, his tone reassuring.

"You'll do it again won't you? Erase my memories? Make me forget?" You asked, even though you knew the answer.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." He said, his thumb brushing over your lips.

"Why?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It's easier for both of us, less complicated. This way we can both enjoy each other's company," he replied, a sly smile on his face.

"It must get lonely, being a vampire," you muttered, holding his gaze.

"Sometimes," he agreed, a sadness in his eyes.

"Is this why you're here?" You asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

"In part," he admitted, his hands gently caressing your arms.

"Have you ever been in love?" You asked, not knowing why.

He looked away, and you could see the pain, the grief in his eyes.

"Only a few times, it's a rare thing, a blessing and a curse," he replied, his eyes filled with emotion.

"How can love be a curse?" You inquired, genuinely curious.

"It can consume you, possess you, make you do things you wouldn't normally do," he said, his voice distant.

"Like what?" You pressed, leaning closer to him.

"Killing the people who get in the way," he answered, his tone dark, his gaze intense.

"Have you ever done that? Killed someone?" You asked, a small part of you fearing the answer.

"Yes, many times," he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Does it make you feel better? Less lonely?" You wondered, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it.

He gave you a strange look, searching your face, trying to read you. You could see a mixture of emotions playing behind his eyes, a myriad of different feelings. You could see his hunger, his desire, but there was also something else, something like guilt, pain, longing.

"I don't want it to, but there's something... intoxicating, about taking a life, about having that power," he explained, his voice hushed.

"Is it because you are a vampire? Or is it because it's who you are?" You asked, your eyes darting between his, waiting for his answer.

He shifted a little, contemplating your question, his brow furrowed. You could see him wrestling with his conscience, but he seemed determined to be truthful.

"I'm not sure; the two seem inextricably linked. There is this beast within me, and lately I've become more aware of it, it's harder to control," he confessed, his eyes distant.

You reached out and touched his face, drawing his gaze back to you. He looked into your eyes, and you could see the fear, the uncertainty, the doubt. You could see the real Elijah, the man behind the mask, and it was heartbreaking. He was a broken man, a lonely soul, and you wanted to help him.

"What happens when you give into this beast? What happens if you stop fighting it?" You asked, your voice filled with worry.

He gave you a sad smile, his fingers tracing down your neck, resting on your chest.

"What happens, my dear, is insanity," he replied, a mournful tone to his voice.

A shudder ran through you, a chill seeping into your bones. He wasn't lying, you could feel it, sense it, and it was terrifying. He resonated power, a raw energy, a force that could tear you apart, consume you.

"I'm afraid if I fall over the edge that I will be lost forever, that there will be no coming back, no salvation," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

"What if you weren't alone? What if you had someone to share it with, someone who could help you fight?" You suggested, looking into his eyes, feeling his pain.

"The woman I loved married another, she did it for duty, a selfless act to protect her child," he admitted, his eyes shimmering with tears.

"I can't help but think if I told her how I felt, that I loved her, everything would've been different," he continued, his voice filled with longing, and a sense of regret.

"Did you ever try?" You asked, feeling as if you already knew the answer.

"Yes," he chuckled humorlessly, "on her wedding day, but she wouldn't let me say it,"

"I'm sorry. No one should feel so alone," you said, pulling him into an embrace.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his body warm against yours.

"Can you do something for me?" He asked, his breath warm on your neck.

"Of course," you murmured, closing your eyes, savoring the moment.

"Tell me you love me," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like you mean it."

You tensed, you had a lot of strange requests from clients, but this was different, this was personal, vulnerable. You hesitated, the words trapped in your throat, an ache in your chest. It was a lie, you both knew it, but there was a sense of power, of possession, in giving it to him, in letting him have this false truth.

"I love you," you breathed, a strange thrill coursing through you, a heat coiling in the pit of your stomach.

There was a look of pain in his eyes, a sadness that broke your heart. You wondered how often he heard those words, how many people he lost, and the thought sent a wave of sorrow through you.

"Can you say it again? " He murmured, his eyes pleading.

You kissed him, a soft, tender kiss, and repeated, "I love you."

"One more time, please," he whispered, his lips grazing yours.

"I love you,”

You could feel him smile against you, a soft sigh escaping him, his arms tightening around you. A part of you wanted it to be true, wanted to be there for him, to love him. Your lives were so different, worlds apart, but in that moment, you felt connected, in a way you had never experienced before.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice husky, a smirk on his face.

"For what?" You asked, your breath catching in your throat.

"For indulging me," he replied, his hands trailing up your back.

"You don't have to thank me," you replied, looking into his eyes.

"I- I don't do this often, if at all; I just needed to hear someone say that," he confessed, his voice barely audible.

You held him close, trying to comfort him, to take away his pain. The drugs were making you feel warm, fuzzy, and there was a hunger growing within you, a heat between your legs. But you pulled away, shame and guilt eating at you. Your job was to please him, to help him forget his troubles, to gain his gratitude for tips. You're not supposed to sleep with clients and especially not supposed to fall for them.

"Time is almost up handsome," you said, forcing yourself to disengage, to pull back, your brain screaming "no" at you.

You stood up, your heart aching, a dull throb between your legs. You wanted him, the ache turning into a need, and you were on the verge of throwing caution to the wind. To hell with the rules, the job, your life.

"Very well," he said, rising to his feet, his gaze lingering on your body.

"A tip," he offered, his lips curling into a grin.

"Only if you think I deserve it," you teased, a small smile on your face.

He approached you, his dark eyes filled with desire, his hands gently cupping your face. You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat, your mind reeling, and then his lips were on yours, soft, tender, sweet. It was a kiss filled with emotion, with need, with longing.

"You won't remember anything we discussed until I see you again," he murmured against your lips.

And with that, he walked out, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, a sense of emptiness filling you. You went to the mirror and checked yourself. Your make up was perfect, your hair artfully disheveled, your body still damp with sweat. You looked as if nothing had happened, as if Elijah had never been there, all you had as proof was the large stack of hundreds in your hand and an inexplicable ache in your heart.

{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Little Runaway Part 2

Part 1

Steve was still asleep when Eddie got up for breakfast. He made himself a bowl of cereal, going over his notes for the Hellfire Club’s session today.

Steve hadn’t awakened by the time Eddie was ready to go so Eddie slipped into his bedroom and quickly gathering his things. Eddie was a master of quick and quiet, having to get ready for school on days Uncle Wayne was sleeping off a late shift.

Eddie stopped at the door and looked back at Steve’s sleeping form. He scribbled a note that told him to eat what he wanted and that Eddie would be home later.

Eddie shoved his hair into his mouth and chewed, trying to puzzle out how to let Dustin know what was going on without letting the rest of Hellfire know that he had Steve fucking Harrington asleep on his bed. Because if he hated King Steve, it was nothing compared to the fury of a thousand suns that the rest of his friends had for the dude.

Now, the new nuggets, Dustin and his friends, they were fine with Steve which surprised him, but there it was. But if Dustin was right, even Will, Mike, Lucas, and Erica shouldn’t know where Steve was hiding out.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted an old wooden chess set that had a few pieces missing. The black pieces were dark cherry wood and the white was cedar.

He picked up the two kings and hefted them both. He flipped them over and saw green felt on the bottom of each piece. He set the white one down and dug at the black king’s felt. After a moment he was able to peel it back. And to his absolute glee he found that it was hollow.

He picked up the white piece and after a scribbled message explaining why this was necessary, Eddie rolled up the paper and placed it in the hollow. He shoved the king in his pocket and grabbed his stuff.

He got to his van and was about to start it when he looked back at the trailer.

Shit. He really hoped this wasn’t going to wake Steve up.

Wincing he turned the key and the engine roared to life. He backed out, hoping that Steve stayed asleep.

“Eddie!” Gareth greeted. “You’re late, man.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Eddie murmured getting to his seat and starting to set up. “I got a new stray last night and you know me and strays.”

Dustin perked up. “Yeah?”

“Next time Dustin when you drop off a stray, don’t do it at fuck all in the morning, yeah?” Eddie said pointedly.

Dustin gulped and looked down. “I didn’t know where else to take him. Is he okay?”

“After I got him cleaned up, he was out like a light,” Eddie said. “Been asleep since.”

“Aren’t you worried that the stray is going to piss all over the place while your gone?” Jeff asked.

“I’m hoping that he’ll still be asleep when I get home,” Eddie said.

Dustin nodded.

They started playing and Eddie watched Dustin carefully. The kid was clearly distracted. And Eddie could only guess it had to do with Steve.

They were going to have to talk about why after the session.

Finally they got to a spot where they could stop. Eddie handed out XP and gold as well as any items that they may have picked up. Made sure they all wrote it on their character sheet, too.

Dustin was getting on his bike to go home with his friends when Eddie stopped him.

“Hey, I’ll take you home,” he said jerking his thumb at the van. “You can put your bike in the back. I wanted to talk to you a bit about that stray you picked up. Because I have so, so many questions.”

Everyone looked at Dustin and then at Eddie, wondering what the hell was going on.

“I promise to tell you guys about it later,” Dustin said and immediately got off his bike and rolled it up to Eddie’s van.

“See you nuggets next week,” Eddie said waving at them.

He waited until they turned at the end of the street before glaring at Dustin. He tossed him the chess piece.

“Get in and I’ll explain.”

Dustin scrambled into the passenger seat of the van and closed the door behind him. He looked at the chess piece as Eddie pulled out.

He frowned when he saw the felt was coming off and peeled it back. He pulled out the note excitedly.

“This is a great idea, Eddie,” Dustin said. “That way we can pass messages without anyone noticing.”

“Tell me what the hell happened, Dustin,” Eddie growled.

Dustin blushed. “I was signing up for the summer reading program at the rec center. Read twenty books over summer break and you get an ice cream party. Anyway, I was finishing up when Steve came out of the locker room.”

“Doesn’t explain why you waited until almost four o’clock in the morning!” Eddie bit out.

“That’s how long it took me to convince him to hide out somewhere instead of using his gas running away from his dad.”

Eddie sighed. “Steve said that you gave him the low down on his dad?”

Dustin nodded. “He’s been going around town looking for Steve. He doesn’t say he’s missing. Only that he wants to talk and Steve hasn’t been home.”

“Grade A asshole right there,” Eddie said.

“Yeah,” Dustin murmured. “I didn’t know what else to do. I knew that the trailer park would be the last place Mr Harrington would look. And I tried Max’s place first but her mom’s currently on a bender and I didn’t think it would be right to saddle Max with both, you know?”

Eddie rubbed his face. “Yeah. So literally no other place for him to go?”

Dustin nodded.

Eddie pulled up to Dustin’s house and helped him get his bike out the back.

“I know Steve hasn’t been the best of dudes, but this isn’t King Steve anymore, okay?” Dustin said.

Eddie sighed. “I’m starting to get that, yeah.”

Dustin gave him a hug. “Thanks for doing this. I owe you big time.”

Eddie pounded on Dustin’s back. “Yeah you do. But don’t worry. That kitten you dropped off at my place will be fine.”

Dustin laughed. “We need to name the hairball.”

Eddie giggled. “Hmm...how about Ozzy?”

“No real names,” Dustin said. “It’d get confusing.”

“Okay...” Eddie said, pouting a bit.

“How about Lucky?” Dustin suggested.

“Sounds more like a dog,” Eddie said. “How about Jinx?”

Dustin tilted his head. “Yeah, sure. That can work.”

“Just put that chess piece where I can see it, whenever you need to get in contact with Jinx, okay?”

Dustin nodded. “It sounds like you’re keeping him for longer than the weekend.”

Eddie sighed. “I don’t know.”

Dustin just shook his head. “See you around, Eddie.”

Eddie closed his eyes and pursed lips. This was getting out of hand. If Steve was staying he needed to know the whole truth.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #gay steve harrington #abuse tw #ladykailtiha writes

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pandorascripts · 1 year

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Maddening Love

summary: harley never meant to become what she was afraid of. it seems she did though.

pairing: harley quinn x gn!reader (can be read as fem)

warnings: murder, gun violence, making out.

note: this has been in my drafts for a while, and I fricking love harley. thought she deserved some love, so please send in requests for her!!! <333

-🃏-

Harley turns on her heel, huffing a hot breath into the cold winter air. “You don’t love me no more.”

You rush up to Harley, reaching out, but retract your hand at the last moment. “Harls, no, no, I do.” Frowning, you timidly place a hand on her cold shoulder.

With a fury you’ve never seen before in her eyes, Harley glares at you. “I don’t appreciate liars, cupcake.”

The venom in her words knocks you off guard, but you know Harley. You know she has her jealousies, when someone got too frisky with you, or when she herself was battling her own insecurities. You shake your head, knowing she needs comfort. It was something she’d always lacked in her relationship with him, so you were determined to give it to her.

“I’m no liar. I love you, Harley. Only you.” You wrap your arms around her, burying your head into her neck. Even if the position is uncomfortable, considering Harley is taller than you, and you need to be on your tip-toes, you hold out for as long as you can.

When your ankles are hurting, and your feet are aching, you lean away of her. You still keep yours arms wrapped around her neck, your left thumb brushing against her skin. Looking into her eyes, you see anger and hurt, but underneath there, there’s a look you’ve seen so many times. Insecurity.

“What’s got you upset, Harley?”

She shakes her head, softly biting her lip as she looks away from you. “Nothin’, it’s stupid.”

“Harley,” you pause, gently guiding her head back to you, “your feelings aren’t stupid. Please.”

Your eyebrows ease up and you try to dump all your emotions into your eyes. You pour all your love for her, your own insecurities, everything you hold, but you know that it’s useless. You felt too much for her, there’s was no possible way you could measure it to size, much less show all of it.

Harley caves, leaning down into you as her hands wrap around your sides. “You promise you love me?”

“Always.”

A small sniffle comes from Harley, and you feel your heart shatter. The shards from your heart pierce your lungs, making your breathing turn jagged. Tears of your own form and you don’t bother hiding them. “I will always love you, Harls.”

A minute of silence passes and you think you’ve reminded her, but her troubles overpower her, again.

“Prove it.”

Desperately, you nod your head.

“How?”

Harley’s head retreats from your neck and she meets your eyes. Her hand comes up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’d kill for you, Harls.”

She shakes her head, a beautifully crazed smile gracing her lips. “No, that’s too easy, sweetheart. The question is, would’ja love me if I killed?”

You nod your head hastily. “You cant scare me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Harley takes your hand, the other one pulling out a handgun as she retreats back into the nightclub you’d just left. “What if I shot up this joint, huh? What ‘bout then?”

“I’d take the blame.”

You quicken your pace, longing to be at her side.

“Would’ja?” she questions, back turned to the door. With a nod of your head, she kicks it open.

The once muffled music cuts through the December night, loud lights blind you as you trail after her inwards. Harley’s grip on your hand only tightens as she walks forward, handgun pressed to her side. Sweaty bodies collide against yours, and you’re reminded why you hate clubs. The bodies pushing and pulling at you make you sick, but when Harley’s hand is in yours, it drowns out anything else.

When she reaches dead center, she pulls you close to her. Harley leans down to your ear, practically yelling over the music.

“Would’ja be my New Years kiss?” she asks, giggling mischievously.

The crowd counts down, and as they reach two, you pull Harley downwards by her collar. Her lips meet yours on the last number, and her gun fires. People run around you and Harley, all desperate to escape their deaths. Bodies bump into you; but her lips planted firmly on yours ground you against them. Harley’s free hand grips the back on your neck, the other causing chaos. Screams fill your ears as Harley empties her clip, bullets flying in all directions, and you bring her back down to you again. Softly, Harley bites your lip, releasing it with a pop as she backs away.

You take a moment to look around. Bodies surround you two, and in a comical way, you make out a heart. Harley steps forward again, holding your chin back as you share air.

“Still love me now, honey?”

You nod, not bothering to address the cold barrel pointed at your head.

“What if I pulled the trigga?”

“Yes,” you husk out, not hesitating in the slightest. “You emptied your mag already, it wouldn’t do anything.”

“What if I had a bullet?”

You scan her eyes, her cold ones piercing through yours. It doesn’t bother you though, you have enough warmth and love to fill up hers. You’d gladly share it.

“Same answer, Harls. You can’t scare me away.”

Slowly, you bring her back down to you. Her warm lips greet yours, and you know you’ve smudged her lipstick. Harley pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth and then your jaw.

“You don’ care that imma killa?”

You shake your head slightly, still wanting her lips on your skin. “No.”

“No?” she asks, planting another kiss below your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine, one of your hands holds Harley’s head as the other holds her lower back. “Not at all.”

Sirens blare around you, but you don’t mind. Harley whispers something incoherent, her hands on your hips having your full attention. You nod, mumbling yes, and her warm body is pulled out of yours. Your eyes snap open, desperately searching for pink and blue, but you can’t find it. As the doors bust open, and swarms of yells surround you, you drop to your knees. Cold metal clicks around your wrist as rough hands pull you up.

The shocking realization that Harley had left you hits like a brick, and you blink several times, with each one wishing this wasn’t true.

“Harls!” you yell, trashing against the cops.

A sob racks through your body as a hard object slams against your stomach. You gasp, heart shattered once again, the evidence burrowing itself deep in your lungs. You cry and plead, but when they toss you in a room, you don’t say a thing. Harley may have betrayed you, but you’d never fathom of doing the same. If she needed her reassurance for your love, this had to be it, right? The more you suffer, the more it shows you care. Harley would see you suffering, and she know you’d truly care for her. She’d get you out, she had to. The thought brought a smile to your lips, a giggle cracking them apart.

“You killed nine people, this isn’t a laughing matter.”

You look up to the detective, seeing his disappointed face. “I think it is.”

Another crazed smile paints itself on your lips.

“Who was with you?” he demands, hands slamming against the steel table.

You don’t flinch, not even moving a muscle as you stare at him. “Just me…”

“Those red lips on your neck say otherwise.”

“Can you blame a girl for having fun? Saw this cute blonde girl, made out with her for New Years, and then,” you pause, trying to build up dramatic suspense, “then I pumped her full of lead, ‘long with those eight other people.”

He nods his head. “Thanks for the confession. With that, you won’t be getting a trial,” he walks away, mumbling the last part of his sentence,”not like you crazies deserve one.”

You mock a salute to him on his way out.

Harley’d get you, she’d kill all these mediocre officers. A laugh surges through your broken lungs, wheezing out and shattering the silence.

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midnightmayhem13 · 10 months

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marvel women headcanons

heyy first writing post! also before u bring up wands and nat they have a bunch of fics already but i'll accept request for them🩵

carol danvers:

GOLDEN RETRIEVER LESBIAN

always gives you her jacket when ur cold

loves having her arm on your shoulder

randomly picking you up bridal style

obviously dom

she brags about how great you are and how beautiful you look all the time

very protective

will death glare anyone that looks at you wrong

goes absolutely crazy if you wear a dress to tony's parties

asks you to dress her if you have good style

loves to gives you neck kisses and hold you from behind the waist

she always gives you love-bites

when you get dangerous missions she tries to take them but fury never lets her

loves cuddling you when she's off of work

big spoon

stares at you all the time

sometimes it's lovingly sometimes it's possessively

other than fury you're the only one on the team she really trusts

always wants to be with you

missions were you guys are separated, that take longer than 3 days are torture for both of you

she loves making you super flustered

matching outfits at tony's parties

asks you to dress her if you have good style

loves to gives you neck kisses and hold you from behind the waist

she always gives you love-bites

when you get dangerous missions she tries to take them but fury never lets her

loves cuddling you when she's off of work

big spoon

stares at you all the time

sometimes it's lovingly sometimes it's possessively

other than fury you're the only one on the team she really trusts

always wants to be with you

missions were you guys are separated, that take longer than 3 days are torture for both of you

she loves making you super flustered

you two give eachother the corniest nicknames

you get really hot at night since carol is basically a heater plus the blankets plus goose who always is next to you, between you or even sometimes on top of you

always as her hand on you thigh while she drives

carol loves coming home to you and is glad to have you

darcy lewis:

she's the type of girl to randomly bite and poke you

having to constantly wipe her lipstick off of you

always bringing her coffee the second she asks for it

she's deff a needy switch

darcy has a big sweet tooth so you guys constantly bake/buy cookies and brownies

she trusts you with her life but she gets super jealous super easily

but she's the most beautiful girl in your eyes

she steals ALL ur clothes

sometimes u find her in ur hoodie, sweatpants, and socks

she looks super cute in it

you guys obsess over cats and send eachother cat memes

you two make a very attractive couple

everyone loves you two

playfully stealing her glasses

but jumping anyone else who does

making sure everyone calls her Dr

loves to sit in ur lap while u work or in general

always cuddling

super fluffy relationship

so many kisses omg

cheek kisses nose kisses forehead kisses

all the kisses

best dates every bc she's super creative

very needy nd demanding, will randomly say "cuddle me" or "kiss me"

clingy in a good way

jaming out to taylor swift (don't deny it she's a swiftie)

slow dancing to lover in the refrigerator light

always ur plus 1 to tonys events

nd ending up drunk then making out in front of everyone

darcys the best gf ever

sharon carter:

•sharon's super protective nd possessive (lil obsessive too)

you always have hickies

very passionate make out sessions

she's a rough and dominant top but can ease up

sugar daddy vibes

will literally kill any man or woman that tries to touch you

has started a bar fight cuz some guy couldn't get his eyes off u

puts her hands under ur shirt to pull you in for a kiss

very touchy

ur her weakness

turn her on by literally doing nothing

she craves ur body close to her

ur way less protective but hate when girls check her out

she finds it hot when u get mad

a lot of pda

after a stressful day she loves to just lay on ur chest while u stroke her head

matching outfits to her clubs/events

if ur on the avengers u keep her identity as the power broker a secret

you two are the biggest feminists

having a very private relationship (from avengers)

her body guards know to keep you safe

massaging her shoulders when she's at her desk pulling her head back to give her a kiss while doing it

being the only one who can calm her down when she's stressed and mad

trying not to lash out on each other when work has u frustrated

still being able to act like partners in crime/best friends

she makes you feel safe and she really trusts you

nebula:

ur the only person she likes

like other than maybe gamora

ur the only one on the team who's seen her smile

u always tell her it's super adorable but she always tells you to shut up

touch deprived baby

after u break her walls and it's not super awkward she loves to cuddle and loves ur touch

a big cuddle bug

she loves to be between ur thighs and laying her head on ur boobies/neck

if u have boobs shes obsessed with them

she also likes a good butt

but she's really just happy to find someone who actually loves her

she's still surprised that u actually love her

she ADORES when u gently rub her head, but won't admit it

holds u by the waist all the time

likes to pull u against her chest and place her chin on ur head

TALL EMO GF

nebula gives the best hugs since she's a giant

u wrap ur arms around her neck and hers around ur waist

she's veryyy protective over you

she hates when quill looks at you too long

she blames herself if you ever get hurt

constant reassurance, u don't mind

loves making out

anytime anywhere

u on her lap, standing, against a wall

she loves to hold you in her lap in general

nebula desires ur praise

doing the marvel forehead touch when you confess ur love for each other

she loves touching you because u are very soft, warm, and squishy to her

for being one of the deadliest assassins in the galaxy she's really soft with you

always so gentle as if you're glass she could break

nebula is really glad to call you her partner/gf

she doesn't like when people look at you to long or touch you at all

you're hers and only hers

maria hill:

•she has a big soft spot for you

very protective of you

like doesn't want anyone too close to you

only her

she doesn't like when other people touch you

she seems tough in front of people but when it's just you and her she's the most affectionate person ever

you admire her a lot during work and people often snap at you to get ur focus

she stares at your ass a lot

sometimes she throws you over her shoulder and slaps your ass

during meetings or in general she teases you by putting her hand on ur thigh and slowly rubbing up and down

if you wear skirts she slowly starts riding her hand up ur skirt

she loves to tease you

holding hands while walking around

maria loves being the small spoon but you can't tell anyone that

wraps her arm around ur waist often

you fix the collar of her uniform

making sure to pay extra attention to you while ur on a dangerous mission

always makes sure u feel comfortable at social events

you guys do a lot of pda in front of the team just to annoy them

slow dancing at home in pajamas way too late at night

maria just always wants you to be safe

kate bishop

she's a nervous reck around you

very whipped for you

yelena makes fun of how she gets around you

kissing in the rain

going to her archery competitions

cuddling with her and lucky

dancing in the snow

having movie nights with lots of pizza

always needing some form of physical contact

head kisses and forehead kisses are ur guys' thing

making out when you guys get bored

clint is very protective of ur relationship

taking lucky out on walks with her

swinging ur joined hands when you walk

comforting her when her mom got arrested

clint's kids love you two together

clint also approves of you being with kate

he knows you'll treat her right

tending to her wounds

tickle and kisses attacks

she loves hugging you and swaying

on your guys' night time walks you have the deepest conversations

you guys have talked about ur future together

if u play an instrument/sing or are involved in a sport she comes to all ur shows/games

she loves telling you all about her and clints" missions

she tell them over and over again but u don't care, she looks so happy

one of ur love languages is taking cute pictures

u both just need eachother and u both know

hey guys hope i did them justice nd hope you enjoyed! i'll be doing stuff like this with alll the ladies on the page or focused on one of them but thank you for reading🩵

#carol danvers x reader #maria hill x reader #darcy lewis x reader #sharon carter x reader #nebula x reader #kate bishop x reader #marvel x reader #wlw #marvel imagine

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 6 months

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Growing up in an extremely ultra religious, cult-like family was a mindfuck for multiple reasons but that doesn't stop unfortunately, even when you escape. For example, see: The overwhelming feeling of boiling hatred and shame for who you used to be.

The angry hatred for the past person I used to be, the version of myself that mindlessly parroted my family's beliefs and listened to their every command, constantly simmered under my skin and invaded my every thought. I was embarrassed of what I used to be- even as I made friends of different ethnicities and faiths, as I listened and explored new ideas and worlds that I never knew existed, as I started the first LGBTQ+ club at my school and volunteered with kids who deserved so much more- there was always a little voice in the back of my head.

"They would hate you if they knew what you were. They would hate the horrendous teachings that were seared into your mind, the things that you used to say and believe. You are nothing but a pretender."

And it is true that my beliefs were bigoted in all the worst ways. It is true that I believed truly heart-wrenching things without a second thought and judged others in such harsh and unfair ways. I told myself that there was no coming back from that, not really. There was nothing I could do to ever make up for it.

Then I remembered that the person who said those things wore velcro light up sneakers and collected finger puppets that the librarians handed out as awards for reading picture books. The person that held signs at pro-life rallies and anti-LGBTQ+ protests had a cherished sticker book and hunted minnows in the creek after school and adored their puffle on club penguin and was really into greek mythology and had skinned knees from climbing trees at recess and knew every Disney song by heart and was absolutely terrified of the dark.

That person was a child.

I was a child.

It took a really long time. Years and years of reflection and distance, but I've decided that I can't hate the past version of myself anymore. I feel pity and remorse, I feel anger- I feel so much fury and violent rage- at what my childhood was and I grieve what could- no, should- have been, but I no longer resent who I was.

I'm not ashamed.

I am so, so, so unbelievably proud of that little kid. For being brave enough to leave the comfort and safety of what I was told was right. For not being afraid to be wrong. For seeking out information and knowledge in a culture that praised ignorance. For questioning everything, relentlessly.

I am by no means a perfect person, I never have been and I never will, but I am proud of myself in every iteration that has ever existed because I know that I have never stopped trying to understand and learn and grow, and I never will.

If you have ever been in a similar situation and feel similar things, first of all: My condolences on your lost childhood. Second of all: Please be nice to that past version of yourself and recognize all the hard work they did to make you who you are today. That person was a survivor and an inspiration. They deserve nothing but love.

#started anti depressants recently. kinda had an epiphany. i can't hate who i was. if i met me now i wouldn't blame that tiny child #for their rancid beliefs or for being dragged to protests. because thats a CHILD. i HAVE met kids in that position and i feel nothing but #pity and anger on their behalf. so why am i holding that version of myself to a higher standard?#i could not have known what i know now at 6 or 8 or 10. the same way that i could not have written a college level essay at that age #but i did what i could. in my own 8 y/o way. i believed in love and humanity and happiness. i was just misguided in the 'hows' of it all #and i am so so so so so proud. of every single microscopic step that i took. every question i asked. every thought that i hid and protected #and pondered secretly at night until new ideas and doubts bloomed like a dandelion through the pavement #and I'm so proud that i chased that doubt. that i asked why why why why until their ears bled and their voices were raw #until their answers stopped adding up. until i sought knowledge elsewhere with a mind dehydrated and malnourished and begging for knowledge #in any form i could get. i just. if i could hug that kid? if i could right now reach out and give that terrified and lonely child a hug?#i would. a million times over.#anyway sorry for the intense personal rant I'm just going through it rn and I'm like.... actually feeling alright #its wild. did you guys know about this??? anti depressants make you NOT depressed??? shits insane fam #irl #personal

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daboyau · 12 days

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okay so this is sort of the opening of that time traveling grandpappy raph au i’ve been thinking about. Warnings for sort of death, and some gore. @iobsesswaytoomuch, I am tagging you since you mentioned you’d be interested in that one lol. We’re not at the grandpappy (more like dad i guess since raph is in his late 20’s/early 30’s here lmao) but this is the beginning of the journey!

@boots-with-the-fur-club

It hadn’t been a quick death, but as far as things went it hadn’t been the worst one he had ever imagined for himself. His brothers had all been there, hands bloodied from digging through the rubble, upset, but warm and alive as they crowded around him. They had made it through the battle, and that was all he needed to know that it was all worth it. He’d heard their voices, though he hadn’t been able to make out the words. He’d closed his eyes, smiling at the feeling of Mikey pressed close to his side, of Leo’s hands on his face, of Donnie’s knees pressed tight against his thigh.

He didn’t like that they had to see him like this, but he was happy that he wouldn’t be alone in the end. Maybe it was selfish of him. Maybe not. If he had to choose, he would have liked to have been with his brothers in their last moments, too. He thinks they’d feel comforted. Not as scared. Just like him.

They hadn’t dared to try moving him. His plastron was a mess of gaping chasms, organs visible through the holes. His spine was damaged, his legs mangled, his throat mostly crushed. There had been no saving him, though he still tried to cling to life. He knew he wouldn’t last through the night - didn’t want to, at this point - and they’d all known it. Somewhere nearby, he could hear Casey screaming her fury to the sky, followed by the sound of something big being broken. April’s voice was soft in his ear, a comforting and familiar presence like she’s always been. Her hands were cold and shaking where they pressed against the wound over his heart, unwilling to let him go without a fight, no matter how he tried to tell her that it was okay.

He was just happy to know they’d all made it. His brothers and sister and best friend were alive, and that was all that mattered to him. His only regret was that he wouldn’t be around to protect them anymore. That, and that his last time seeing them, they were all crying like they’d never smile again.

He hoped that that wasn’t true. He’d like it very much if they found happiness after he was gone. He hated that they had to see him like this, but…. Well, maybe it was selfish, but he was happy he didn’t have to die alone and afraid.

He made himself smile, forced out a final i love you all. so much. through the mangled remains of his throat, and for the first time in so so long, he decided it was finally okay to rest. He heard his family crying, screaming, fingers scrabbling against the few intact pieces of his body. He couldn’t focus, but for the first time since they had first fought against the kraang, he could have sworn he saw the stirrings of purple and blue and orange light surrounding him. Instinctively, his own ninpo flickered within his chest, the last warm and beating thing within him trying to reach back to them. From somewhere within that familiar warmth, he felt a tug. His heart gave one final, stuttering beat. His eyes closed.

And when they opened again, he was somewhere new.

#Rottmnt #my writing #grandpappy raph au #rise raph #I don’t love this tbh and might rewrite it at some point?#I’m not sure yet

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likesunsetorange · 4 months

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bodyguard au snippet

from what i have outlined, this would be from the first chapter, it's a little long (~2.5k words) but i wanted to include the whole scene, so hope y'all enjoy! (also unedited so don't fight me if there's any typos lol)

anyways, happy new year's and i'm super excited to share this au with y'all this year!

cw: mentions of drugging a person (mostly just the benadryl thing lol)

Eren hated the club.

Strobe lights irritated his eyes because they always caused him migraines; the pungent aroma of alcohol and the sensation of sweat clinging to his body always made him feel disgusted; and the excess amount of people, bodies crammed against one another, was enough to make his eye twitch with rage.

Eren shouldn’t be here. He hated the club. He would never be here out of his own volition. Especially after 3 AM, when he should be fast asleep, sinking into the four hundred thread count sheets of Mikasa’s guest room bed, Caro tucked beside him taking up half the bed like she was a human and not a dog.

But here he was shoving through crowds of drunken bodies, his head pounding, his vision blurry, and he was almost certain he was borderline hallucinating all because of her.

Eren tried to give Mikasa the benefit of the doubt—he pitied her situation, how could he not? A life that consisted of people constantly controlling your each and every move, and here comes yet another person that your family is forcing to do just that onto you. He tried to give Mikasa her space—he only made polite small talk in passing, accompanied her to her destinations of choice from an appropriate distance, and didn’t bother her whenever it wasn’t necessary. But despite his best efforts at trying to maintain the peace, her disdain for him was evident, she didn’t bother to hide it—from the constant scowls, her constantly exasperated demeanor, and the frequent insults she threw his away under her breath (Re: Jersey trash)—but at the very least, he hoped that she could to tolerate him eventually seeing as though Eren would be living with her for the foreseeable future, and it would both of their lives easier coexisting harmoniously.

But hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Mikasa had made it abundantly clear that she felt she had been slighted. And even if Eren was only a pawn in her family’s doing, she wouldn’t partake in any of their little games, and if that meant Eren became collateral in the process, then so be it.

Eren was partially to blame, he should have known better, Levi had warned him beforehand that Mikasa was not one to be trifled with, and he should’ve seen it coming from the shift from a mere displeasure by his presence to a sudden interest in his overall wellbeing.

Eren had been easily fooled by the way her usually razor-sharp steel eyes had finally looked at him with a softness he had yet to witness from her, leaving him in a little bit of a daze. The way her perfectly plush lips mouthed his name, different than anyone else ever had—the N at the end soft, almost as if she was omitting it all together. And how could he not feel the tiniest pang in his heart when her light grey eyes looked up at him with so much tenderness when she asked: “Eren, are you feeling okay?”

Mikasa claimed she noticed his energy beginning to run low and she heard his sniffles increase over the last few days, the adjustment to the New York City air probably weighing heavy on his body—assuming it would only be a matter of days before he drew ill. And Mikasa seemed so sweet, so intensely saccharine, when she told him she’d cancel all her plans for the rest of the day, not wanting to force him out the house.

Mikasa went the whole nine yards— ordered takeout for the two of them, even making conversation with him that was more than their usual small talk, seeming genuinely interested in Eren for once. He couldn’t help but admire her newfound amicability, hoping that at the very least they could be cordial despite her overall displeasure with the circumstances. He even found himself enjoying her presence, finally getting to take her in outside of the few glances he ever got in passing. Mikasa truly was something like no other—even in her cute pink silken pajamas, he couldn’t deny she had to be one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. But she was technically his boss, so he'd tuck those thoughts away and at least be thankful that God had taken his time to make someone like her.

Eventually, after a bit of arguing on her part, Mikasa sent him to bed with a handful of pills Eren didn’t bother to ask about the contents of, insisting he take medicine before he got any worse, even if he did feel okay. She bid him a good night and well wishes, placing a gentle caress to his arm, a soft look on her face before she even offered him an apology for how bad she had treated him over the last week. It seemed like things were finally looking up for the two of them, so Eren returned her kind looks and thanked her for all her help, going to sleep with the faintest hint of a smile on his face, lulled quickly to sleep by a medicine-induced haze despite it only being 8.

And so Eren couldn’t even be that mad—she had truly put on a class act—Mikasa had played him, and she had played him well. His mom always told him he was so easily flattered—a sucker for pretty women who bat their pretty lashes, gave him sweet smiles, and made him feel good—and Mikasa Ackerman had done so little for him to melt like putty into her hands.

He found himself waking up in the middle of the night, almost incoherent, his vision plagued by small black spots and drenched in sweat. Eren struggled to maintain his balance as he stumbled through the house, Mikasa nowhere to be found, locating a box of Benadryl Extra Strength tucked away in one of the cabinets of Mikasa’s kitchen. Three tablets were missing, contrary to the recommended one tablet dosage, and Eren was certain that Mikasa had all the hopes those three little pills would have knocked him out for the remainder of the night.

It took all the concentration in Eren’s body, fighting against the exhaustion that plagued his body from all the medications coursing through his veins (how he managed to wake up he was still unsure) and the small black dots that danced across his vision, to try and figure out where Mikasa was. He somehow managed to log into her MacBook (her password thankfully being her birthday) and managed to track her phone to some club in SoHo.

The anger began bubbling up within him as Hannes drove him to where Mikasa was, enraged at the fact that not only did she try and drug him, but she had put on a front, pretending to be nice, for the sole fact that she wanted to go out and party. Eren regret giving her the benefit of the doubt—Mikasa was exactly who he she showed herself to be, a spoiled rich girl who would do anything to get what she wanted.

So as Eren threaded through the crowd of people, scanning the masses for her. It was only a matter of time before he caught wind of her signature ribbon at the bar, the strobe lights making it gleam different shades of the rainbow. She turned around shortly after, his eyes meeting her gaze, her lips turning up in smugness at the sight of him before taking another sip of whatever pink concoction she had in her perfectly manicured hands, as if she was almost taunting him. Years of attending Catholic school lead Eren to have a preconceived notion that the devil was this depiction of all things evil—something that was worth cowering in fear at the sight of. After years of seeing depictions on and portrayals on TV and all the stories from myths and legends, Eren always believed the devil would be vicious and scary, but no, the devil isn’t some demon, or succubus alike.

No, the devil is 5’6”, wears shiny satin ribbons in her hair, drinks fruity pink cocktails, and sports a smile that’s so sickeningly sweet it could convince a man to do anything. And if Eren hadn’t been seething with anger, through vision that was clouded with Benadryl-induced hallucinations and scarlet colored anger, hell, he’d even say she was cute.

Eren was in front of her before he knew it, his larger figure caging her in between the bar, Mikasa looking up at him innocently, feigning on the side of ignorance to the situation.

“Hi, Eren,” she quipped, her lips still upturned, the pink of her lips sparkling under the strobe lights from whatever gloss she happened to be wearing. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she added innocently, stirring her drink as if Eren’s presence was taking away from her fun.

Eren could feel his eye twitch, it had been so long since he had felt so angry, but it seemed as if in the week since she had met him, Mikasa had become an expert of just exactly how to get under his skin. He took a deep breath before he spoke, his jaw clenching through every word, wasting no time for her silly games. “We’re leaving, Mikasa.”

“You’re no fun, don’t you wanna stay a while? C’mon, Eren, loosen up a bit. I think you could use a break,” her free hand running along the slope of his arm. Eren could feel the chills run down his spine, but this wasn’t the time—he was angry, and he needed to focus.

“First you spend the entire week insulting me and treating me like absolute shit, then you pretend to be nice to me even bothering to give me a sorry ass apology, and then you drug me? And you couldn’t even bother to use something useful? Benadryl? Your parents are drowning in money, and you decide to knock me out with over-the-counter drugs?” His words coming out more in disbelief than in anger, his voice growing louder as he tried to speak over the music blaring through the speakers.

All Mikasa did was roll her eyes, setting her drink on the counter behind her, apparently growing bored of all her little games. “Sorry for being considerate and not drugging you with actual drugs, Eren. Next time I’ll remember to go for the hard stuff—don’t worry.”

“Glad you’re so sweet, Mikasa. I should be so thankful I have a boss as considerate as you,” he glared. “Now let’s go.”

“No,” she responded, crossing her arms, her eyes returning to the signature glare Eren had grown accustomed to over the past week.

Eren could feel the migraine settling in, the noises and lights being the starting point, and Mikasa’s failure to comply being the cherry on top. He closed his eyes and took one last breath, trying to prevent the anger from getting the best of him. Eren took one step forward, putting only a few inches in between him and Mikasa, forcing her back against the bar counter. His face was anything but amused, but Mikasa seemed to not be relenting.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Mikasa, your choice. Now let’s go,” he repeated, but Mikasa only doubled down at his words, standing firm in her place, steel eyes locking with green, her mouth pinched into a scowl.

Eren shook his head, upset about the circumstances as a whole, but also that it had come to this. With a swift movement, Eren had his arms wrapped around Mikasa’s waist, lifting her up onto her shoulder. His arms moved to secure her legs in place, her head and arms hanging behind him.

Mikasa let out a shriek as Eren made his way towards the exit a string of expletives coming out of her mouth. Bystanders watched in confusion, unsure whether or not to interfere in the pair’s altercation. Eren simply waved off their concerned looks, mouthing She’s drunk, to which most people nodded in understanding and resumed their drinking and dancing.

“You fucking jackass—let me go!” Mikasa yelled from above him, squirming in his tight grip as he approached the club exit. “Plus I need my fucking coat it’s fucking freezing outside!”

“Should’ve thought about that before you fucking drugged me. And tough shit, you have daddy’s credit card, just buy yourself a new one, princess.”

Eren readjusted her on his shoulder, his grip only tightening through Mikasa’s attempted escapes. He gave the bouncer a nod as he walked out, the man apparently unphased by Mikasa’s antics. “I swear to God, Eren. Put—” Hit. “Me—” Hit. “Down—” A final blow.

He winced in pain as Mikasa’s small hands threw punch after punch against his back, her hits stronger than he could have anticipated. But Eren could see the car, only fifty feet away, and he wasn’t willing to let her win, at least not this round.

“What did we learn today? We don’t do what? C’mon Mikasa, enlighten me. Please,” he replied, ignoring her requests, and pretending she wasn’t leaving palm shaped welts along the length of his back. He took her silence as a means for him to continue, “We don’t sneak out of the fucking house when there are active hits against our family members, and we don’t drug our body guards, just so we can get drunk at the fucking club. Hope this could help.”

“You’re a sick bastard, go back where the fuck you came fro—” her words cut off by Eren roughly placing her back onto the ground. She stumbled as she tried to regain her footing on her heeled boots, her hands instantly going to shield herself from the cold New York air. Eren lugged off his jacket, roughly placing it on her, not wanting to hear anything else come out of her mouth.

“Are you done with all the insults, or do you wanna stand in the cold and keep yelling at me?”

“Fuck you, Eren.”

“You’re not really my type, princess.”

Mikasa scowled before releasing a pained huff, throwing his jacket onto the floor. She stomped the few feet to the car door Eren held open for her, sending one last glare his way before she slammed the door in his face.

The entire drive home, he could hear her muttering how much she hated her family, how she was pissed off at the fact they hired him, and how much she hated the pathetic excuse of a mall cop they hired from sorry ass Jersey to be her bodyguard. And rather than take offense to any of her insults, all Eren could think about was how much that feeling of hatred was beginning to feel extremely mutual.

#eremika #eremika fic #bodyguard au #honestly all their interactions were making me laugh #they're so funny lol #also caro is eren's dog #fic previews #vic’s wips

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toothbrushfingers · 1 year

Text

saw someone call this bitch toothpaste once and i’ve actually started to forget that that’s not actually her name

in my mind she’ll always be toothpaste

#httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd fandom #httyd movies #light fury hate club #light fury #thw salt

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flamehairedwritings · 2 years

Text

The Dungeon Master and The Drama Club President: Chapter One

Characters: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 1k

A/N: This is a little mini-series dedicated to @herb-welch and inspired by a mini-series @irrelevantwriter has just posted, go and check it out!! A chapter will be posted every other day, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged! (I’ll only tag you if your age or ‘Over 18+’ or something adjacent is in ya bio).

Tags: Enemies to lovers, swearing, alcohol, talent kink? if that’s a thing (it is), sweet little series, sexual references, sexual things in the last chapter.

The Dungeon Master and The Drama Club President Masterlist

Summary: You strike a deal with Eddie Munson that leads to more than either of you bargained for.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

─

Chapter One ─ The Deal

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Trevor swallows as he grips at his clipboard. “Uh, well, no, sorry, I’m not, they, uh, they said it was okay─”

“Who said that?”

“Uh, well, Eddie did, that he’d cleared it with you─”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Lips pressed together, you stride past a now stammering Trevor, jaw clenched.

It’s unbelievable, but it’s also entirely fucking believable.

Of course he did, of course he lied because that’s who he is, he’s a liar and a sneak.

People swiftly move out of your way as you stride down the corridors of Hawkins High, righteous fury obviously evident on your features.

Good. Maybe it’ll rattle the otherwise nonchalant Eddie fucking Munson.

Shoving the drama studio doors open, you pause, stepping into semi-darkness. The only lights are tinted red and pointed at the stage, more specifically at the long table on it.

It’s just for a fraction of a second that you pause, though, because there he is. Sat on a throne, gaze flicked up to you, hand paused in turning a page of his notebook.

And he smirks.

“Sorry, sweetheart, The Hellfire Club isn’t taking on any new memb─”

“Leave.” You stride towards the stage, features thunderous once more.

He turns the page. “Uh, no. For the next two hours, this space is ours.”

“No,” you snap, moving up the steps onto the stage. “For the next three hours, it’s mine, we need to rehearse.”

He sits back in the throne, lifting his hands as he sighs like you’re the inconvenience. “Don’t you have someone’s huge house you could go to?”

“You can set all this up in a fucking field, we need the lights and the stage to do our blocking.” You huff out a breath as you place your hands on your hips. “Which isn’t the point, I booked this weeks ago.”

“Gosh, did you?” he half-simpers. “Well me oh my, they must have got the dates confused. But, y’know, seein’ as I’m already here and set up why don’t you kindly fuck off and take your preening selves elsewhere.”

“What the hell is your problem, Munson?” you hiss, leaning over the table, hands pressed down on it. “’Preening’? Isn’t that what you so expertly do instead of passing fucking high school?”

He scoffs, a smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah, good one, babe, haven’t heard that before.”

Fuck you, Eddie Munson.

Your tongue running along your teeth, your gaze flicks down to the table, to the little figures set up that have been so carefully painted, the small trees and rocks surrounding them.

The corners of your mouth twitch.

Straightening, you fold your arms as you look at him, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t know why you’re so dismissive of theatre, it’s basically what you’re fucking doing here.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, but... but....” You see the faint panic enter his gaze. Then, he shrugs. “Hardly, we don’t prance about in tights.”

“You dress up, though, or at least your, what are they called... campaign members do. And you pick names, create characters...” You’re moving down the table towards him now, head tilted. “... Gosh, doesn’t that sound familiar?”

He snorts again, fingers steepled together as he shakes his head. “It’s different, all right, we don’t have to put on a show for everyone and─”

“Oh, because you hate putting on a show, don’t you, Eddie?” You sit on the edge of the table near him, arms still folded. “Remind me, is it every Tuesday or Wednesday your band plays at that dive bar?”

He’s silent now, jaw clenched as he looks at you.

You just continue to smile, before an innocent expression overtakes your features as you lift a finger. “You know what, we have a few spaces that need filling in our musical, would you like to audition?”

“Fuck off,” he mutters, arms folding.

“No? I thought that would be right up your street, getting to talk and sing uninterrupted, shout and yell, be dramatic, and have people clap you for it.” You give a mock-gasp of delight and his jaw moves.

Smiling again, you tip your head to the side. “No? Well, actually, you know what... we do need some more people to do the music for us, so why don’t you and your little band help us out, huh? If you do then I’ll happily let you have the studio today and use our space for your little game every Monday. How does that sound?”

If his eyes could burn a hole through you, they would.

“Yeah?” you simper now, smile wider.

His gaze drops after a moment and you take his hissing out of what is most likely a curse as a ‘yes’.

You want to hear it, though.

“What was that, Eddie?”

“Fine,” he snaps, jaw so tight he says it through gritted teeth, and you beam, nodding as you stand.

“Perfect. I’ll get someone to give you the sheet music, and I’ll see you next Thursday for our sitzprobe.” Having half turned, you turn back to him. “That’s what it’s called when we rehearse with the orchestra, by the way.”

“I know what a fuckin’ sitzprobe is,” he scoffs in a way that suggests he absolutely didn’t.

“Good. See you then, Eddie.”

Turning away, triumphant, you move towards the stairs again. Your actors will be fine with the change, you know you can just use one of the many empty classrooms now that school’s finished for the day, and it─

“Oh, sweetheart?”

Your brow dipping, you pause halfway towards the door, and turn back to him.

He’s smiling.

Why is he smiling.

Lifting his hands, he then steeples his fingers again. “While I gladly accept your generous offer, I’d love to audition us, though. Why don’t you come down to The Hideout next Tuesday and see if we suit? I’d hate for us to ruin your special little play.”

You have to fight very hard to keep your frustration from showing.

Oh, fuck you, Eddie Munson.

You’ve heard about The Hideout. Dirty, disgusting, full of hardcore rockers and metalheads, drugs are rife, and it’s basically a law unto itself.

... But if you say no, then, well, he’s won and that just cannot happen.

Forcing a wide smile, you shrug. “All right. I’ll see you there, Munson.”

Striding for the door, your smile drops as your jaw clenches.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

As the door swings shut behind you, Eddie drops his hands as his smile fades and he blows out a breath.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit.

─

Reblogs and comments make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future works!

Masterlist

Tagged: @gifsbysimplysonia, @thephantomofthe-internet, @clonecaptainrex, @ali-r3n, @irrelevantwriter, @nuggetti, @hellotheregeneral222, @focusonspn, @hatsunemikuwu, @fabulous-brii, @hanoi15, @hopelesslylosttheway, @actual-spawn-of-satan, @eriseffigy, @godidontevenknowwhat, @sergeantangel, @nohalfpints, @sephmonet, @bitchinsinclair, @ah-finally, @morphoportis, @anetjay, @sergeantangel, @fabulous-brii, @hellv1ra, @shouzawa

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #my writing #flamehairedwritings

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dreadsuitsamus · 1 year

Text

Getting Revenge on Jiraiya Headcanons | Jiraiya x Reader |

author's note: i saw a video on facebook and it inspired me to write something silly lol also i have no idea how to actually classify these? they're more than headcanons but i just don't always want to write a full-fledged story with allllll the details, i like the bulleted list telling a story too but to call them headcanons feels inaccurate. does anyone have any suggestions?

pairing: jiraiya x fem!reader

warnings: the relationship depicted is a little toxic lol nothing too crazy though, jealousy and an on and off relationship, light angst, mention of pregnancy loss

You and Jiraiya have an on-again, off-again relationship

However often you always find your way back to each other, there is eventually an off phase again and that's when shit gets out of hand

The two of you are so obviously in love and hooked to the hip even without being official anymore

But... Jiraiya is gonna Jiraiya regardless, whether it's with you or someone else

And you hate it

It's not cheating in the slightest, but it still creates an ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach when you talk to him the morning after an outing

You know the specific glow on his face and his tone of voice when he's gotten laid

they never make him glow like you do

And sometimes, you can admittedly get a little toxic

But Jiraiya loves it when you get jealous, no matter what the consequence is when he purposely prods you to react to his latest hookup

And his toxic trait, along with intentionally setting you off, is that he gets mad at you when you give him a response like he wanted

he thinks it's hot when you're angry tho

The latest encounter will probably be his last though, which is saying a lot

You were out with some friends at a club, dressed to the nines and celebrating Tsunade's birthday

you don't know how old she is and you're afraid to ask

You're having a damn good time, until you happen to glance over and see Jiraiya with three women

One is rubbing his shoulders while he smirks with his stupid face, rubbing one's stupid inner thigh, and sucking a hickey on the other's stupid neck

Your face twists into a jealous fury, and Tsunade notices fast

She pulls you aside. "How are you ever gonna find the right one for you if you're busy with the Jiraiya song-and-dance?"

That makes you pause. You never really thought of actually dating anyone that isn't Jiraiya

You frown. "You're right. I can't keep doing this."

Tsunade smirks "Then make your last act of revenge count."

god she's hot when she starts scheming

Jiraiya never takes his hookups home, which gives you and the girls the perfect opportunity to hatch your plan

You all head to the nearest supermarket and giggle as you make your way to the craft section, heels clicking against the floor and heads of the various employees and customers turning

You quickly pull together your supplies and rush for the register, your friends having to hold Tsunade back from putting an old man with funky sunglasses in traction

The girls follow you out to take the train out of downtown and eventually get to Jiraiya's place. You use your key to get in and set it in the glass bowl he keeps by the door for the last time

You and the girls each don a container of colorful glitter and get to work, saving the bedroom for you alone as they sprinkle it in as many annoying places they can think of

You head upstairs and grit your teeth, unleashing all of your anger as you glitter his room. You throw it on the carpet, digging your heel in to make sure it's really in there. You put it on his clothes, his master bathroom, and finally his bed.

You're surprised when you feel tears falling down to your neck and chest

Nothing hurts you more than not being with Jiraiya, and to see him with another woman (or three) is excruciating. You've loved him for ten years now and it breaks your heart every single time you part with him

And he moves on so easily every fucking time. As if he doesn't care. As if you're easy to replace. You could never find a hookup within a week or two after a breakup

Your eyes settle on a framed photo hung up on the wall. It was of you and Jiraiya from many years ago, and from what you both thought was the best date of your lives. You were both so happy and it brings more tears to your eyes

You knock the picture off the wall, leaving it face down in a pile of glitter

You toss glitter in a few more places before you're all out, throwing the bottle to the side somewhere and heading back downstairs

Tsunade looks at you carefully and brushes her bangs out of her eyes, and quickly calls the rest of the girls to hurry up in case Jiraiya comes home early

You all leave and head back to another club to get what Tsunade referred to as "white girl wasted"

and god were you fucked up

When you're next conscious, it's because your phone is ringing right in your ear

You push your head up, the world around you spinning and the sunlight burning your soul. You check your phone to see it was one in the afternoon, and Jiraiya was the one making your phone ring

"Pfft... 'm not answerin' that one..." You snort, flopping your head back into your pillow. You're not even sure how you got home, but you're thankful for it nonetheless

Eventually you get up to eat and then shower, and when you go back out to your bedroom with your body only covered with a towel, you find Jiraiya sitting at the edge of your bed with his head ducked

You frown. "You should leave."

Jiraiya looks up with fury in his eyes. "I don't think so."

"I'm too hungover for this." You mutter and walk to your dresser.

"You glitter-bombed my house." Jiraiya says, clearly not letting you walk away from this.

"How do you know it's me?" You scoff.

"For starters, I have a Ring camera." He deadpans, "Tell me what you remember of last night."

You inhale deeply as you search your drawers for something to wear. "I went out for Tsunade's birthday."

"And that's it?"

"Obviously." You mutter, lying through your teeth as you pull out a crop top and a pair of underwear. "Look away, perv."

he doesn't

You drop the towel and pull the top over your breasts quickly and follow suit with the thong-style panties, turning and crossing your arms at him

"So what do you want?"

"You should be nicer to the man who got you home safely last night."

You blink, and Jiraiya stands tall with his impressive height and muscle. You forget just how big he is sometimes

"That's right." He crosses his arms. "Even after I came home and saw the mess you made, I still got you home."

"You saw it already? What, you shoot your load early with those bitches last night?"

Jiraiya smirks at your bitterness. "You know more than anyone I'm no one-pump-chump. And I didn't sleep with them, you green-eyed monster."

You narrow your eyes. "Liar."

"I swear on that baby of ours in heaven." Jiraiya says solemnly, looking you right in the eye.

You stare at each other for a long moment before you finally break the silence. "Why are you here?"

"It's time to settle this, don't you think?"

"I settled it last night."

Jiraiya pulls something from his pocket. It's your key you left behind. "You call this settling it? You left your glitter in my house! You'll be stuck on me forever, whether you like it or not. And something tells me, you little minx, that you like that thought."

"Of course I do. But I don't think you do. You move on so fast when we split. Do you even care?"

"I've never moved on from you once. I drink and fuck around to numb the pain of not having you. Every single time." His eyes are soft. "And when I saw you with your friends, I couldn't think of anything but you. So I went home early and found the mess you made, laughed at what I found and went out to take you home. Because you're crazy and I just can't get enough."

"Tell me you mean that." You swallow thickly. "Tell me this will be the last time."

"I'll die before I let you go again. And I really don't wanna know what you'd do to top the glitter revenge."

You laugh and move into his arms, embracing each other tightly and pressing your lips together

Naturally, he places a hand on your ass and gives it a squeeze

"I know what's good for that hangover. Let's just say that there's a little someone I know that's standing here in a thong that once said dick is the best way to cure a hangover."

"God, you're a pervert."

"The name's Jiraiya." He smirks

Dick was, in fact, the best way to cure your hangover

#jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x you #jiraiya #naruto #naruto shippuden #headcanons #fic #i know this is dumb and i should've just written it out entirely as a fic #but i like not having to necessarily finish out a complete thought and tie one thing to another

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queenpiranhadon · 4 months

Text

A/N: Woah chapter five already ( ˃o˂ ). Help last day of the year- This chapter is written by the lovely Nyota <3 @labaguetteisdabest and is from Apex's perspective. You can find the masterlist here Warning(s): Slight mentions of abuse, romantic rejection, Apex does some snooping, enemies to lovers, fantasy + royal universe, both MCs are cisgender females, and gay. Homophobes stay away!!

Pairing(s): Kaepex

I sit on my bed, quietly flipping through the pages of my favorite book, when Cari suddenly says, “Are our chambermaids gonna go help out other kids, or will they follow us home?”

I feel my face heat slightly when I think of Eudora. Imagining her helping another student lights a small flame of fury within me, and I don’t understand why.

“I have no idea,” I respond.

Footsteps echo through the small room as Cari strolls over to sit beside me.

“Are you blushing?”

My face burns hotter. “No!”

“You definitely are,” she teases. “I wonder why… do you have a cr-”

“NO!” I shout, embarrassment lacing my voice.

Cari smirks knowingly.

“…Okay, maybe I have a small crush,” I admit reluctantly.

“HA! There’s no way,” Cari laughs. “Apex Flaeren Pyracent, the cold-hearted heir of the fire kingdom, has a crush!”

“Not so loud!” I hiss.

Someone’s voice drifts down from upstairs:

“Okay, we’re releasing the anchors now. I pray you know what you’re doing, Cap’n.”

“I guess that’s my cue,” the water princess says enthusiastically.

“Get out,” I tell her, shoving Cari out of my room.

Once she exits the room, I continue to read, yet I can’t focus.

The sailor’s words circle through my mind.

“‘I pray you know what you’re doing, Cap’n.’”

What... what’s happening? I... if we don’t make it back safely, our parents (or brother, in Cari’s case) will order the crew dead – although Little Miss Flawless’ parents are a bit more merciful, so they may only order them to be solidly punished.

Eran should have sent a letter out, giving the captain the okay, no? If he hasn’t, there’s no telling if we can leave yet. And Eran always sends a letter.

The rhythmic thumping of waves on the hull is making me slightly nauseous, as is the rocking of the ship.

Groaning, I flop backwards on the soft bed, and I shut the book I was reading.

I lay in silence for a moment or two when I notice a slightly yellowing scroll peeking out of the bedside table.

What in the world? I think. Reaching over, I run through my mind what it could possibly be, but nothing significant comes to mind immediately.

I unfurl the scroll, careful not to tear any of it, and begin to read it.

Dear Prince Dyor,

Hey, it’s me. I know, I get it that I’m not using any formalities, but I figured given the circumstances - it’s not required of me. But I wanted to apologize. For ignoring you. I miss you, old friend, and I hate that my own weakness over the situation is tearing our friendship apart. I just don’t think of you that way. There are plenty of girls who would want to marry you – and I truly do hope these feelings don’t change anything. It’s probably too late to fix things now – but I think we both need closure. My dad will probably be infuriated with me when I see him again, he may seem merciful to others, but we both know how he is in the palace… I think I still have the marks from last time. Anyways I hope this letter finds you in good health, old friend. It was fun while it lasted.

Yours,

Kae

Prince Dyor? The crown prince of Akameen? It makes sense; Dyor never seemed interested in his fangirl club. He always ignored them. But falling for Kaeda, of all people?

Her perfect appearance never seemed like his type. But what do I know; I can’t interact with a man for my life.

My brain whirs with the prospect of gossip. This singular letter has opened my eyes to a whole new realm of possibility.

Although, at the same time, some lines worry me in a way I hate. I shouldn’t be worried about my competitor, my rival, my enemy. But...

“I think I still have the marks from last time.”

Marks... from what?

No matter; I should not be concerned.

The ship lurches forward, and I lunge for a grip, not wanting to risk anything.

Ugh, and I have to deal with a week of this? Never again.

It strikes me that there’s most likely a messenger pigeon on this ship. I could send Covyn a letter...

I dig around the drawer of the bedside table to find a scroll. It takes a minute, but I find one, and reach for my bag to grab a quill and ink.

I begin to write.

Dearest Covyn,

Hey! I miss you so much. I've been so bored lately, and incredibly desperate to get back home. Alas, that won’t be happening too soon, but in about a week, if all goes well, you’ll see me back home!

I understand that this letter may not arrive on time, but I at least want you to read it. So much chaos has happened lately, and I feel that you need to know about it.

Firstly, Princess Kaeda hasn’t gotten any better. She's still the annoying Little Miss Flawless I rant to you about all the time. Then she just HAS to stop Cari and I from goofing off. But~ I happened to find this letter of hers in my room on this cursed boat. And oh. My. Gods. There is a TREASURE TROVE of rumors right there!!

It admits Prince Dyor of Akameen to having a crush on Kaeda, for one. And I see it. What princes ~ other than Fujimura’s princes, of course ~ HAVEN’T fallen for her? I mean~ like I said earlier, she’s Little Miss Flawless.

It seems that Kaeda never sent that letter to Prince Dyor, so obviously they never spoke again. Unless my room is Dyor’s and she DID send it; Dyor just never took it with him. Either way, I’ve gained quite the amount of knowledge, and I will be putting it to good use.

With love,

Adri

I sign the letter with the nickname Covyn calls me, and race to clean the inky quill. I search for the lid to the ink, worried it disappeared, but luckily, I find it on the floor.

And now to find the messenger pigeons, I think. Slowly, I stand up, careful not to trip, and I exit the room.

When Kaeda finds out – and I know she will – she’ll be so mad. The very thought of that brings me glee, and I hurry down the hall, desperate to send the letter before I run into the ice princess.

I take a few turns and run up a flight of stairs, when I find myself on the deck, the salty scent of the sea filling my nose.

Glancing around, a slight panic rushes through me. Not only do I get seasick, but I get panicked on ships as well. It’s not fun, especially when the only way to get back home is this damned boat.

I take a deep breath, not that I think it’ll help, and go to one of the crew members.

“Excuse me?” I say. The dark-haired man turns towards me. “Do you, by any chance, know where the messenger pigeons are?”

He motions somewhere to my left and returns to... whatever he was doing.

I follow his gesture and turn left, listening for the chirping of birds that was now audible.

A minute or two later, I spot the pigeons. They cheerfully warble as if they have no care in the world, and the birds probably don’t.

As I walk closer, their chirping gets louder, almost to an insufferable volume. And as their trilling gets louder, my frustration grows. I desperately want to incinerate them, but I can’t; we need them for messages and such.

Carefully unlocking their cage, I look for the one bird who has a white splotch on her left wing. Whenever I send a letter, I tend to use her.

Aha! I think triumphantly. I reach in and she hops onto my hand. Once I pull her out, I stroke her feathers, and she trills happily.

“Hey, Culver,” I say softly. “How’ve you been?”

Culver is the Old English word for pigeon, and while we Espyns don’t speak English, I thought it was a fitting name for such a pretty bird.

“Can you bring this to Covyn? In Asraxvale?”

Asraxvale is the capital of Fujimura, and it sounds like a cool name, but it's really just a play on words. It comes from the word “astra,” meaning “star,” which are very clearly seen in Asraxvale. The “x” and “vale” were just added to make it sound cool. That’s all according to my history lessons, anyway.

Culver lets out a shrill chirp, which by now I’ve learned to mean that she understands.

I take a piece of string and tie my letter to her ankle.

And it’s just my luck that Little Miss Flawless herself comes up behind me.

I sigh. “Go on, Culver. Leave so I can deal with her.” As I finish the sentence, I shoot Kaeda a glare.

Culver flies off into the distance, and she looks... peaceful, in a way.

“What do you want?” I ask Kaeda. She’s just been standing behind me for a few minutes.

“Well, I was going to ask the captain something, but you’ve rudely interrupted me,” she replies unkindly. Kaeda tosses her shimmering, curly black hair over her shoulder, and her grey-blue eyes feel like they’re piercing my soul.

“Be my guest,” I tell her. “You’re the one who literally stopped behind me.”

I look at the princess, a smug look crossing my face. Kaeda lets out a huff and stalks past me, and as she walks by, the air around her turns a few degrees colder.

I trudge back into my room and collapse on my bed.

How in the world did I just manage to not empty my guts out onto the deck? I wonder.

My nausea finally gets to me.

“This is fine. Everything is fine,” I repeat to myself quietly. “Just a few more days of this torture and I’ll be back home.”

#star crossed haters #kaeda leona cynet #adrienne “apex” pyracent #kaeda x apex #kaepex #writing #writer #writers block #creative writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity

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ultralightpoe · 2 years

Text

Wretched Freak - Bucky Barnes

Description: PART ONE TO THE 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU SERIES!!!!!

Part 2 HERE

Word Count: 1623

Warnings: cuss words

Authors Note: I am not in love with this part, but I love what is coming. So please don’t judge based on the first part.

“KATE BISHOP!” You scream across your house, checking your eyeliner in your nearby reflection as your bag swings from your shoulder. “IF YOU ARE NOT IN MY CAR WITHIN 2 MINUTES I AM LEAVING YOU HERE!”

“Do you really have to yell?” You mother laughs, coming in to inspect your outfit before you leave for the day, an odd look crossing her features as she took in your attire.

She never approved of the darker look you went for, but you never really cared before, and you never would. Black nail polish and eyeliner were staples in your life, combat boots and glares were essentials.

“Whatcha reading today?”

“Flowers in the Attic.”

“Oh? Something light and cheery then.” She teases as Kate bounds down the stairs, ponytail bouncing.

“You stress me out in the mornings. It ruins my whole day.”

“You are going to make me late you craphead.” You snap, moving to the door with your keys swinging from your hand. “GET A MOVE ON LOSER!”

---------------------------------------------

Avengers Highs parking lot was hectic, Yelena Belova notes as she strolls in the front doors of the school. Moving back in with her sister and her mom while her dad heads to Russia for a photography job was stressful enough, add in a new highschool and she was just about screwed.

“Yelena! Hey!” Natasha smiles, moving to greet her at the door. Her sister had woken up early to get here for debate club, led by Mr. Fury, and it seemed that the early morning did nothing to throw off her groove. A serene smile placed on her features as she hooks elbows with the girl and begins leading her through the halls. “Alright lets see…..where to start-”

Yelena loses concentration as someone in a leather jacket knocks into her shoulder harshly in passing, snatching a prom poster down as they walk off without even looking back. “Yelena? Hey? You listening?”

“Yes.. I’m here.”

“Alright, here is the breakdown. Over here we have the jocks. Don’t speak to them unless they speak to you, better to avoid them all together. Especially their little leader Ikarus-”

“Is his name actually Ik-”

“Moving on. Over here we have the nervous geeks.” Nat smiles, bumping into a kid holding a star wars lego set.

“S-sorry Romanoff.” He apologizes as his friend hits his shoulder. “Ned, don’t drop the set.”

“They are very scared. Don’t make any fast movements around them okay? Over here we have the science team. That is Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Co Captains but Tony takes most the control. Over there the debate team, the friend I told you about is over there. Hey Clint! But avoid Sharon Carter. We hate her, took my captain spot when I was out with the flu. I’ll get my revenge at some point.”

“Got it.” Yelena mumbles, shaking her head.

“Sweet athletes. Sam Wilsona and Steve Rogers. Um. oh! Okay! Now over her-”

“Oh my…..” Yelena gasps as the prettiest girl in purple passes by her, laughing at something her friend says. “Who is that and how do I get in her group?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“She is beautiful.”

“Kate Bishop. Forget it though. Everyone knows the Bishop sisters are not allowed to date.”

“Yeah sure. Whatever.”

-----------------------------------------------

Mr. Fury was in a bad mood as always.

Your foot taps on the floor beneath you as you wait for him to finish his speech on the novel he was forcing the class to read. John Walker breathing through his mouth behind her as loudly as he possibly could.

If only you could kick him like you kicked Ultron last semester.

“Any questions on shakespeare oh so lovely words?” Fury mutters, dropping the book onto the desk.

“I have a question-” You smile, raising your hand which has the man rolling his eye and mumbling a sarcastic response. “When are we going to read something actually worth our time?”

“I’ll be so interested in knowing what the freak Y/n considers worth her time.” John snarks.

“Anything with a brain, and you do not qualify.” You snap and Fury smiles.

“Both of you. Shut up. In fact, you’re both pissing me off. Out.”

“What?!” You snap as John groans.

“You heard me! Out!”

You roll your eyes, snatching your book bag and shoving John on your way out.

“Ouch.”

“Bite me.”

-------------------------------------------

The afterschool bell rings and Yelena finds herself rushing out the doors, looking for a moment to breathe as everyone does the same.

She is just in time to see a black car nearly hit Nat on her motorcycle, the leather clad person from earlier sticking their head out to yell at her for not driving with her brain. “YOU SHOULD REMOVE IT FROM YOUR ASS BEFORE YOU START THE VEHICLE.”

With that it speeds off, followed by a red car carrying a blonde and Kate in the backseat. “Who is that?”

“That was John Walker, resident model boy.” Nat snarks as she looks over to Steve Rogers. “And the person in the first car was Kate’s freak sister Y/n.”

“Wait, the one that yelled at you was Kates sister?”

“Indeed.” Nat laughs, starting her bike again. “Did some digging, found out that Kate is looking for a russian tutor. Had Steve give you her your number. Should be calling you tonight to ask.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” Nat laughs, zooming off.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The Bishop house smelled like lemongrass when both girls arrived home. Which meant their mother was in a decent mood. “Hello Y/n? Make anyone cry today?”

“Not yet. But it’s only four.” You smile, kissing her cheek as you make your way through to the kitchen. “Anything come for me in the mail?’

“Just a package from Eternal Academ-”

“What?!” You blanch, running for where your mother keeps the mail. Your eyes zero in on the large packet and you rip into it within moments. It took two seconds for your eyes to skim the words before you were a screaming mess. “I GOT IN! I GOT IN!”

“Got in where?” Your mother asks the same time your sister enters the room.

“University of Eternals.” You smile, as your mothers face dropped.

“I thought we agreed you would go to Hydra University ….. Like I did?”

“No. You agreed. I listened.” You smile and just before she was about to argue you snap towards your sister. “Ask you Kate got a ride from today.”

“A ride? Who? Who gave you a ride?”

“No one.” She mumbles, flipping you off as your mother glares.

“The airhead John Walker.” You answer, moving to sit on the counter as she rolls her eyes.

“He’s not an airhead. He is going to be a general in the military one day.”

“Oh, wow. Good for him.” You snark.

“Hey. Katherine. We have rules-”

“That are so unfair! Everyone else at school is dating mom!”

“Not me.”

“Because your a wretched freak.” She snaps which has you laughing.

“Katherine, that is enough.”

“No! You’re so overprotective and you’re ruining my life-”

“Fine. New rule.” Your mother announces which has your sister shutting up in an instant. “You’ll get to date…….. When Y/n does.”

“WHAT?!” Kate yells as you laugh, watching your mother disappear to her office. Your sister whirls around to look at you, a deadly glare in her eyes as she watches you. “Can’t you get a fake boyfriend or something?”

“So you can date that loser John Walker? Unlikely.”

“YOU SUCK!”

“And you swallow.” You answer, walking out of the room.

---------------------------------------------------

“Mr. Barnes. In my office once more. How lovely.” Agatha Harkness mumbles as he shrugs, rolling his eyes a bit.

“You made the appointment.” It was true, Agatha requested to see him before school to talk about the most recent incident in the cafeteria.

“You shoved a kids face in his mashed potatoes.”

“At least they tasted good.” He mumbles, taking a seat.

“Listen. I know you’ve had a rough time. With the accident and the family loss. But if you continue on this path then you’ll get expelled. Okay? Okay. Now leave so I can get back to work.”

“You have fun with the horny witches in westview.” He snarks, storming out of the office.

-----------------------------------------

Yelena Belova nervously taps her pencil on the library table as she waits for Kate to show up for their tutor session.

The brunette lands on the chair beside her, a whirlwind of excitement as she looks to you. “Alright. I have to be out of here in 10 minutes, Gwen and Flash are having a super argument right now and I cannot miss that.”

“Oh! Um- Okay.” Yelena mumbles, blushing a bit. “I was thinking we start with the basics. Pronouns and starter words.”

“Right now?”

“Well it doesn’t have to be right now. Maybe over like dinner, some mac and cheese?”

“Are…….are you asking me out?” Kate smiles, a surprised look coating her features at Yelena’s boldness.

“Um- Yeah? I know you apparently can’t go out-”

“That rule changed. I can date when my sister dates.”

“Really? Then we definitely can do mac-”

“Problem. My sister doesn’t date. A wretched freak.”

“I noticed. Why is that?”

“No clue. She actually used to be loads of fun and super popular but she switched when she was a freshman. No one knows why.”

“Well I am sure there is someone at this school who would like someone like that…..”

“You think you could find someone who would do that?” Kate asks, a smile coating her features.

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And you would do that for me?” Kate asks, a flirty tilt to her voice.

“Without question.” Yelena blushes.

This would be an easy task, wouldn’t it?

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10blue10 · 1 year

Text

TNR: What Could Have Been

I decided to continue from my previous THW post and come up with a new version of The Nine Realms. This spin off show would take place a thousand years (give or take) after the events of the AU version of THW. I’ve changed the characters names but feel free to picture them as they appear in the show.

Title: Flight Club

Premise: the characters live in Canada, and their parents work for a nonprofit called DRACO - Dragon Research And Conservation Organisation. The members of this org believe dragons should be treated as wild animals - they should be studied and protected, but not ridden or trained by humans. The five teens want to ride dragons however so they start a secret ‘Flight Club’ for it.

Protagonists

Leader: Kory Kullersen

Kory is short for Hickory, which is a source of amusement for everyone except him.

He knows he’s descended from Hiccup (he took a DNA test one time) and decides that he too is going to befriend and learn to ride a Night Fury.

He ends up befriending a Night Light (M) who is mostly black with a white stripe all around its body. This is why Kory names his dragon Oreo.

As a kid he was a member of the Scouts and knows how to survive in the wilderness. Which helps when he and his friends go off ‘camping’.

His uncle Robert (who may or may not be descended from Gobber) is a mechanic and taught him how to use tools/fix machines.

He sucks at using computers. He can manage his phone but that’s it.

Lancer: Julian ‘Ian’ Feng

Ian and his big sister are adopted and have two mums. One of whom is a Canadian named April and the other is a Chinese-American named Mai.

Even though he prefers being called Ian, his sister teases him by calling him July. They both joke that a third sibling will be called Augustus.

The two of them can read and write Chinese and use it to communicate in a secret sibling code (secret to everyone except Mei, of course).

Ian bonds with a Hobblegrunt (F) he names Hob-Nob. Kory gets annoyed that his idea to name a dragon after a cookie was stolen.

Ian loves aircraft and plays on flight simulators. It’s Kory’s idea to ride dragons, but it’s Ian who figures out the best way to do that.

He and Kory have a ‘vitriolic besties’ kind of relationship. They bonded over having stupid first names but also tease each other about it.

Heart: June Feng

June is the most organised of the group. She’s fond of calling her brother and friends idiots (affectionate) and reminding them to take first aid stuff, snacks, water and to go to the toilet before they start flying around.

She’s a big history/dragons buff and loves pestering Kory about his heroic ancestor. He keeps telling her it’s really not that big a deal.

Her dragon is a Windwalker (M) she decides to name Gary, as in gharial, a species of crocodilian native to Asia that the dragon resembles.

June is very passionate about protecting dragons and will swear like a sailor, in both English and Chinese, at anyone trying to hurt them.

This contrasts nicely with her well groomed, fashionable appearance. Which also contrasts with her brother, who is kind of a slob.

Between their mums, June is closer to April than to Mei, since April is a bit more supportive of her interests whereas Mei thinks she should focus on her studies.

Big Guy: Michael ‘Mick’ Angelo Gonzalez

He has a big brother called Leonardo, a little brother called Raphael and a little sister called Donna.

In case it wasn’t obvious, his parents are big fans of TMNT. Mick…not so much. He doesn’t hate the cartoon, he just thinks his parents went a bit overboard naming their kids after the main characters.

As their strongest friend, Mick is the ‘lifter and carrier’ of the group. He likes to be useful, but wishes he wasn’t seen as just ‘the strong guy’.

Mick rides a Thunderclaw (M) he names Rhino, because he loves animals.

He’s the one who suspects the dragons aren’t merely intelligent, but full on sapient, and with Alexa’s help comes up with ways to test this hypothesis.

Mick has a crush on June and thinks she’s the prettiest girl he knows.

Smart Gal: Alexa Baker

She’s the techie of the group, and her friends like to joke that Amazon’s Alexa was named after her.

Out of all the five, Alexa is the most nervous around dragons. She is particularly anxious when it comes to the more aggressive species.

The irony is that her dragon ends up being a Changewing (F) that she names Maple.

She likes to challenge herself by sneaking past her dad, who is head of security at the research institute they’re staying at.

Her dad and Kory’s mum seem to have a thing for each other, which is super awkward, because Alexa has a crush on Kory and definitely doesn’t see him as a step-brother.

Alexa has a great love of detective stories, escape rooms and other puzzle solving games.

The Dragons

Oreo: an adventurous and stubborn male Night Light who’s father is a Light Fury and mother is a Night Fury. Oreo grew up on New Berk until he set off to explore. He meets Kory when the boy is out hiking. Oreo isn’t scared of humans, but has no interest in having a rider. Kory’s persistence pays off however and he ends up rescuing the boy from a territorial Whispering Death.

Hob-Nob: a gentle and skittish female Hobblegrunt who is caught and studied by the researchers at DRACO, to learn more about her species colour change abilities. When Ian realises how desperate she is to be free, he lets her out of her cage. In her rush to leave she accidentally snags him and carries him back to her nest. He earns her trust by freeing her and also not harming her babies.

Gary: a playful and daring male Windwalker who is rescued from poachers but left with an injured wing. He splashes June with water from his pool when she walks by. She splashes him right back and the two of them quickly become friends. When she realises that he’s lonely without his pod, June spends more time with Gary, earning his trust until he offers to let her ride on his back.

Rhino: a grumpy and tenacious male Thunderclaw who is also rescued from poachers. He was left behind by his migrating flock and needs to recover from a broken leg before he can catch up. Mick is the one who takes care of him whilst he’s recovering, and whilst Rhino takes a while to warm up to the teen, they bond eventually. Rhino then decides to stick around with Mick after that.

Maple: a mischievous and inquisitive female Changewing who turns up to explore the research facility. She sees Alexa sneaking out and follows the girl. At first Alexa is really nervous and keeps trying to shoo her away, but it’s no good. Eventually the staff catch Maple and plan to relocate her. Alexa, not wanting her new friend to be sent far away, lets her out of the cage instead.

Antagonists

The Bully: Lee ‘Buzzcut’ Burns

An old bully/ rival of Kory and Ian, he shows up in the area on holiday (supposedly) and discovers the gang are riding dragons.

He demands a dragon of his own in exchange for keeping the secret.

Lee secretly plans to use said dragon to make money.

The gang do their best to keep him from both getting a dragon to abuse and from revealing their secret club to the adults at DRACO.

The Smuggler: Damien Evans

The leader of a smuggling/poaching ring that captures and sells wild dragons to various, often illegal, zoos and menageries.

He is an enemy of the flight club members by extension of being in conflict with DRACO. However, since they’re teens he doesn’t take them seriously.

Their first encounter with him is when they rescue a baby Featherhide that he’s smuggled from Brazil, even though it’s too cold in Canada for her.

Damien is greedy and arrogant. He thinks his connections will be enough to keep him from going to prison. Kory and the others become determined to prove him wrong and put him behind bars for good.

The Bounty Hunter: Jacque ‘The Ripper’ Kennedy

He claims dragons are dangerous beasts that must be culled for the good of society and the ‘ecosystem’, despite not really caring about nature.

This is really just a thinly veiled justification for his desire to kill dragons for glory and prove how tough he is.

Jacque is convinced he is descended from the Normans, who in turn are descended from Vikings, and sees himself as ‘continuing their legacy’.

The fact that it was Vikings who fought against dragon hunters isn’t something he wants to acknowledge. He doesn’t see the original Berkians as ‘real Vikings’. His idea of ‘real Vikings’ are white supremacists.

#httyd tnr #tnr rewrite #httyd

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