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cl6teen · 6 months

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affection, ln4 ❀ chapter i. clueless

masterlist || chapter ii

in which everyone can’t believe that a certain mclaren driver and f1’s resident rich girl aren’t dating already

contains: smau, oblivious lando & oblivious reader

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 223,211 others

yourinstagram a much needed vacay

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landonorris im still offended by the lack of an invite

yourinstagram thailand is for the girls, not sorry!

bsfsinstagram there was a strict no lando norris rule for yn

user i have gyat to go to thailand

liked by yourinstagram

carlossainz55 the book is upside down dummy

yourinstagram i’ll turn you upside down

oscarpiastri what an informative post yn

yourinstagram hehe, can’t wait to see you

user omg yn at the next race???

user literally what are all these f1 boys doing in her comments

user shes a nepo baby i think

user her dad is mclaren’s biggest sponsor so she’s able to attend a lot of f1 events

user my fav honorary f1 wag

yourinstagram wag?? i’m very much single thank you

daniel ricciardo 🌚

yourinstagram don’t give them things to read into daniel.

lanny

i miss you

hey yn

miss youuu

when are you coming back

thailand can’t be that fun

y/n/n

thailand is totally that fun

in fact we’re about to go on a boat

lanny

you can go on a boat over here

y/n/n

it’s not the same 🙄

i don’t know why you’re so hung up about me taking a vacation

monaco gets boring sometimes

lanny

yeah but the second i get back from racing around the world you’re already gone

y/n/n

well i’ll be in the uk just in time for silverstone

lanny

you’re going back home?

y/n/n

my father said it’d be good to be around for a home race

so i’ll be in the uk for some time probably, it’s been a while since i’ve been back

lanny

okay good

i better see you cheering for me

it’d be embarrassing if my best friend was rooting for someone else

y/n/n

i’ve got my mclaren 4 cap ready to go

cant wait to see you ❤️

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lando.jpg home dump

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yourinstagram and it’s all just a bit too much…for littol lando norris

lando.jpg im hiding in your walls

yourinstagram creep

maxfewtrell stream time? 🤔

lando.jpg let me race first bro

user not lando feeding yn pasta and lobsterrrr

carlossainz55 aye, was this a date??

yourinstagram he wishes, he got me from the airport & we went straight to eat

danielricciardo who’s that cutie?

yourinstagram i’m right here!

danielricciardo oh..i meant lando

oscarpiastri 😬

user im so confused, are they dating??

user no, but they’ve been like best friends since lando’s rookie year in mclaren

user shes better than me, i would have fallen in love…

liked by mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 745,234 others

yourinstagram couldn’t be prouder of my boys!!

tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri

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mclaren loving the love from our papaya girl 🧡

yourinstagram mwah

user yn ate today on the paddock

user she’s wearing lando’s hat im gonna cry

bsfsinstagram ugh get these men off my feed and show me ur pretty face

yourinstagram i was held at gunpoint and told to post this :/

landonorris the 6th photo…

yourinstagram ikr can you believe that loser got p2?

landonorris not too much now

oscarpiastri i look crazy

yourinstagram you look so cute??

oscarpiastri you shoved a camera in my face while i was eating

yourinstagram i did nothing wrong 🥰

user who was the man you were with on the paddock though?

yourinstagram my father!

user girl your daddy fine

liked by bsfsinstagram

bsfsinstagram user you have great taste

maxfewtrell send me that lando photo please

yourinstagram will do 🫡

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onlyyn i luv a good arfter prty

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danielricciardo me when i’m on the hennessy

onlyyn hehe

landonorris im looking for you

bsfsinstagram please don’t do anything crazy babe 😭

onlyyn i’ll try

lanny

y/n

where are you?

i thought you were with oscar

y/n/n

i let oscar leave! he looked tired

lanny

you should’ve told me that then

i would’ve kept an eye on you

are you drunk

y/n/n

i’m not a child oscar

lanny

*lando, but i’ll ignore that

and i’m not saying you are yn

there’s just people here that can be like

weird is all, who knows

are you drunk??

y/n/n

i don’t know, i’m not sober

are you drunk

lanny

i’m not sober

y/n/n

i thought you hated alcohol?

lanny

carlos convinced me to do some shots with him and max…

i regret it a little

do you wanna go home

y/n/n

yea

my feet hurt

lanny

i’ll carry you until we get to an uber

so can you tell me where you are now??

y/n/n

i’m in the bathroom

lanny

don’t move, i’ll come get you

y/n/n

god you’re the best ever lando

lanny

yeah i know 😁

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 smau #f1 x black!reader

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scremogirl · 8 months

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✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★ ???

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞

Yandere Student Council Pres x Nonchalant reader

I’m not sure if I should retitle this to Yandere! Childhood friend x reader or not. There’s not a lot of the fact he’s the SCP shown in the story. I felt like I went a little off track. I got so consumed in writing😭. I already have a post like that on my page so I didn’t want to make it confusing. I don’t know if I should’ve said unemotional reader either. Idk let me know what you think. Have fun reading!

He was at the top of the food chain. Good grades, teachers liked him, students feared him, rich, good looking, and most importantly; the student council president. With that being said, why wouldn’t he leave you alone?

Takenya was a stuck up priss in your opinion. Always lecturing you about things you could do in order of improvement. You weren’t popular but you weren’t one of those weird Naruto kids that sat in the back of the class and ate crayons either. You just existed. Someone so average at everything somehow attracted the most “perfect” guy in school. Your grades were fine; a straight A-B student with the occasional C here and there. Your attendance on the other hand… well maybe he’s not so wrong about that, but who actually wants to be at school anyways?

“I don’t understand why you don’t try harder? You could easily surpass most of our class,”

“You need to come to school. This behavior would never pass in the real world. What would your employer think of you just not showing up?”

“Chocolate for lunch…really? If you want to stay healthy you’ll need to-“

Why does he care so much anyways? Sure, you used to be friends in like what, fifth grade? You used to get bullied in school for being different. You just didn’t like the things that kids your age were supposed to like. But… it never bothered you. You weren’t emotionless per se, it’s just, why care what others have to think?

Mellisa Grey. The girliest of all girls. She used to have it out for you when you were younger. Calling you names and bumping your shoulder whenever you walked by. You put up with it until the end of the year; fifth grade graduation. That evening she and her crew thought it’d be funny to pour milk on the shy little nerdy boy in your class. Some spilled on your dress, that you didn’t mind, but the tears of the boy next to you made you. Something inside of you just snapped. You shot up from your seat grabbing a first full of her hair and slammed her head onto the wooden table. Not stopping until you saw the wire of her pink, sparkly braces fly out her mouth. Well, that was what you wanted to do; the teachers came too early for you to inflict any further damage. The most you got was a broken nose and a lawsuit. She transferred schools after that, and you got the whoopin of a lifetime. You didn’t care. You didn’t feel bad at all. If anything you felt elated seeing her in pain and the rage on her parents faces as the cussed child you out. You didn’t cry or yell when your parents picked you up. You weren’t phased by the belt or the palm of your mothers hand striking you. You didn’t feel anything. So why were you so upset on someone else's behalf anyways?

You knew this kid. I mean, how couldn’t you when he would follow you around 24/7.

“H-Hi… my names Takenya” you just blankly stared. His sheepish gaze barely meets yours from behind his big fat glasses.

“…Do I know you?”

“Well…no. But I know you!”

“Good for you I guess.” You continued to go back and forth on the swing, not acknowledging the boy's existence at all. The swing he sat on remained stationary, never once dropping his gaze from you.

“Uhm… I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Hm? What was he talking about? He saw the confusion in your face when you turned around to ask and beat you to the point.

“You probably don’t know me. We’re not in the same class,” Right. So why is he talking to you? Again, before you could ask he cut you off.

“The other day when recess started you helped me pick up all of my stuff after Carter pushed me down; remember? I-I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me” Ohhh, you do remember him now. He was that shy little rich kid that transferred here at the end of fourth grade. He didn’t have many friends, let alone any at all. Everyone had grown up with each other and formed friend groups at this poin. He was a little late to the party so he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t worried about the next episode of Ninjago and didn’t find humor in looking up the words penis and vagina in the dictionary at the school library when the teacher wasn’t looking. His hair long, tied back into a neat ponytail and not buzzed into a Mohawk like half the boys in your grade. He had glasses that almost covered the entirety of his upper face. He always ate his pb&js on whole wheat instead of white and preferred celery sticks over fruit snacks. So, just like you, he got bullied just because he was different.

“Oh yea. I remember you now. You’re welcome by the way,” he grinned. The first time you saw him smile ever since he came to your school.

That marked the day of a long friendship.

That was until you went to middle school. You think puberty had something to do with it. He grew into his face more and sized down those jellyfishing glasses. His scrawny figure gained slightly more bulk and dressed in a more modern fashion. His hair remained the same; a bit shorter than before but still longer than most guys. You’ve always liked his hair. He would let you braid it sometimes when he was too distracted playing on his DS. He didn’t get acne like many of the other kids your grade either, skin smooth and clear. All the girls found him to die for. Your nonchalant behavior rubbed off on him and he became more confident in himself. Not letting his elementary school self be reflected into now. He became a bit too obsessed with his studies for a middle schooler; pushing all his ways on you. He would always follow you around blabbing about not attending gym class. He even started hanging around the same snotty rich kids he would complain to you about. You became annoyed. So you cut him off. Just like that. Stopped talking to him, answering his texts, not sitting with him at lunch or in class. Even after all the rejection at his advances, he came running back to you. Not willing to let you go so easily.

The school bell rings signaling the end of 4th pd and beginning of lunch. You were planning to go off campus today and not come back. Keys in hand you make your way to the student parking lot. However, someone’s blocking the exit. He’s gotten taller, about 6’2-6’3; sleeper build accommodating his height. Glasses thinner and sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Hair as long as ever, tyed back with that same white ribbon you gave him years ago; revealing an undercut. He fixes the collar of his button up and readjusts his tie and vest.

“And exactly…just where do you think your going?”

“To lunch,”

“The cafeteria is that way,” he points with a slender finger, decorated by a diamond ring. It shimers under the lights above reflecting against his matching earrings.

“Off campus,” he raises his eyebrow, folding his arms.

“Knowing you, you won’t come back. You do realize your request for a half day schedule is still pending right? You also recognize that I’m the one who assists the principal in granting them as well?” You don’t answer him, already knowing we're going with this.

“As I said before, your attendance needs improving before I-… we can grant it,” what a pain in the ass this guy is. You try to walk past him but he stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t eat school lunch. I’ll be back after,” he gives you an unamused look. Hand gripping your shoulder a little tighter as you try to take another step.

“You know I can’t let you do that. Not unless you don’t want a new schedule,” he pauses.

“Not unless I come with you,” you look up.

“You’re paying?” His eyes widened slightly, shocked at your willingness. But he can’t be too surprised, he knows you don’t care about anything unless you get what you want.

“Of course I am. You need to spend your money on other priorities; like a new math textbook,” you ignore the subtle jab and walk to his car. No need to ask where as he parks next to you everyday to make sure he knows you’ve actually show up. Definitely not because your the first thing he wants to see in the morning.

“I don’t understand why you come to McDonald’s of all places,” he lets out a sigh, handing his card to the drive through worker. He drives up to the next window waiting for the food.

“It’s not healthy. You seriously should consider my offer in taking you to that new place down the street,”. He looks over when he doesn’t get a response; noticing the music blasting from your headphones as you look at the door. He sighs again before taking the food from the workers hand and grabbing your headphones. You turn your head to look at him but your gaze shifts to the bag in his hand. You reach over and grab a fry out of the bag and he s his eyes. Pulling into the parking lot, he silently watches you eat. This brings him so much nostalgia. He misses eating lunch with you everyday. Ranting while you just sit there and chew. He misses having someone listening to him about something that’s not related to school. After you stopped *attempted* talking to him in the beginning of 7th grade, his heart felt like it got ripped out of his chest.

He’s never felt anything his whole life. His father would tell him that one day he’ll find someone who makes him feel everything, makes life worth it. He’d seen the love shared between his parents everyday. He always wanted that. In the fourth grade all of that came true. He saw you getting off the bus making your way to school. He saw the way you helped up Michael Lemitzki, a dorky little boy, after Conner pushed him down. Shaggy hair, braces lining his teeth, comic books all on the floor. How pathetic. You weren’t scared of Conner at all. He was bigger than you and more popular than you, but you didn’t care. You kept a straight face as he threatened you and held your composure. No emotion showing whatsoever.

He thought you were beautiful. It was love at first sight. He was too busy staring at you to hear his father calling out to him. He followed his son's gaze to you. He looked back down at the small boy and gave a knowing smile. Takenya just stared at the other boy hugging you with tears down his face. Why is he touching you like that? Push him away already! That day he purposely made himself a target to the bullying of Melissa and Conner. Hoping that one day, you’ll save him the same way you did Jacob. He got bigger glasses, grew his hair out, and started dressing like the typical “nerd”. He would leave candies in your cubby, prized limited edition Pokémon cards in your backpack, brand new color pencils and markers showed up around you. He started to lose hope though. Why haven’t you noticed him yet!? Sure he’s never actually talked to you.. but still! Could you not see his effort?! Did you not care? He sat alone at recess that fateful day. He was randomly pushed down, papers and crayons flying out his small hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Connors teasing today. To caught up on the fact that the love of his life may never see him they way he’s dreamed of. Oh the dramatic mind of a fifth grader. He clutched the safety scissors that flew out of his pencil pouch watching the dick of an elementary schooler turn around. He was about to get up but stopped as he saw someone bend down beside him. It was you! You helped gather all his things and placed them into his arms. His heart pounded in his chest and the blush on his face spread like wildfire. Before he could say anything you walked away. Taking your place on the swing set. He hurriedly put all his things away before trying to build up the courage to come talk to you. He took to long, however, as the teacher soon yelled for everyone to make their way into the line back to their respective class.

As he reminisces on the past, an alarm rings. Telling him that it’s time to make his way back to school. You’ve already finished all your food and somehow managed to take your headphones back.

“What?” You say snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize he was staring.

“Nothing,”

You make your way back to the school and go your separate ways. He walks you to class ensuring that you get there. Out the corner of his eye he sees someone wave to you. Lemitzki. His hairs more well kept, ditched the glasses for contacts showing of his green eyes. He’s taller and has more muscles now. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the jagged line that makes it’s way across his right cheek, interfering with his dimple as he smiles. It’s been awhile, the scar healed well. The once clutzy boy looks at the door and freezes, hand dropping and going pale. There’s a silent stare off between the two before the late bell rings. Takenya makes his way to class, a slight smile on his face at a sudden memory.

Watching him walk away, a fist tightens. Little does he know someone was planning on getting their revenge.

Hi loves! I hope you guys enjoyed. Take is an OC of mine I’ve had for a while just never had a name for him until now. Like his concept was in my head foreverrrr. He might be a reoccurring character. I really like him. But I did put one shot so I’m not sure. Lemme know what y’all want. Check out this post below for a little more context. Hope you enjoyed.

-Love, Sos❤️

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere childhood friend #yandere student council president

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stxrborne · 6 months

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PRECISION

|| Feitan x neutral! Reader ||

|| dt to @after-witch @ddarker-dreams @depravitycentral for inspiring me to finally get off my ass and write, and also for their amazing works ofc! check them out! ||

It’s ironic, Feitan thinks, to sew up the wounds of his victims. But they can’t die just yet.

His thin, long fingers push the needle through the victims skin of their inner thigh, and he gives out a light scoff in mockery when they whimper. Little rich boy can’t handle a little pain? He hates these rich types that think they can pull one over on the troupe. They were fun to interrogate, they always worked up his temper where taking it out on them was something he looked forward to. Due punishment, not only for their bratty, pretentious attitude, but their lucky pull in birth circumstances. Feitan acts as their comeuppance.

He’ll give it to this victim, however, still holding on to the information despite it all. Usually his male victims would start spilling whatever they knew when Feitan picked up a hammer and pushed their thighs apart. But here his victim was, crying and whimpering, and now a eunuch, and still not speaking.

Feitan finishes his stitches with a clean knot, and sets the needle and thread aside on his medical tool tables. He likes to pride himself in his efficiency and perfection. After all, torture required just as much knowledge of the human body as a surgeon. The image of Feitan as a doctor, in a different life, flashed in his mind and he laughed aloud. Maybe. Maybe if he was born lucky. Maybe if he didn’t have to learn surgery and amputations from the cruelty of his home.

After all, doctors can’t save everyone. And he didn’t see the point in willingly putting that responsibility and burden on yourself. Especially for ungrateful rich brats.

No, it was much easier to take life than to protect it. Much more fulfilling too. Other people aren’t your responsibility.

How funny though, Feitan thought. To now have something to willingly burden yourself with.

His ears pricked up to his victim shuffling in his chains, and he turned to them. The man wasn’t remarkable, only one person really was in Feitan’s eyes. The only thing noticeable now was the man’s family crest Feitan had carved on the skin above his heart.

How can you claim to belong to something, if you can’t even mark yourself with it? When you die, how will people know where you belonged to?

Feitan takes the man’s face in between his hand, and moves his head around to inspect his work. He debated between leaving the cut next to eye, dropping a few drops of an infectious bacteria into it so the eye would eventually eat itself. It’d take about a week, and then another for the infection to spread to the rest of the body.

Feitan couldn’t help but smile at the image. He gripped his victims face with his nails, and told him so.

“It’d be funny to see you swell up with blood and pus. I wonder if you’d get fat like an ugly cyst, but you already don’t look all that different from one.”

He let him go unceremoniously, and watched as his head fell forward. Feitan will grant him the mercy of sleep. After all, a dog will still endure abuse if you feed it often enough.

“Feitan?”

He heard you before you reached the basement door of course. He knew where you were in the house at all times after all.

You knew you weren’t allowed to open the door. If you needed him, just knock or call his name. You think it’s because he’d have to kill you if you saw what he was doing.

He knows that, and thinks you’re silly. He wipes his bloodied hands with a clean cloth as he walks to the door. His eyes meet yours when he opens the door, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he closes it. You don’t even know what color the walls of the basement are.

Feitan looks you over, with the same precision he gives to everything. You’ve been picking at your hangnails again and for some reason you didn’t bother bandaging your thumb, where you had ripped and tore at the skin enough for it to bleed. Another thing is that you’re wearing nothing but a towel, which means one thing.

“I want to take a bath,” you say, your clasped hands nervously squeezing themselves. It was another thing you weren’t allowed to do on your own. You didn’t understand why, and you didn’t understand why he did the things he did. He’d set the water the way you like it, even though you don’t remember telling him. He scents it with fragrances and oils that you can tell are expensive, in your favorite scents too. He helps you in and then holds out your towel so he doesn’t see your naked body, and he swiftly turns and closes the curtain. He does the same when you’re ready to come out.

He has a chair he sits on, quietly and unmoving as he watches your silhouette. Maybe it’s a kink or fetish of some kind, you think. It had taken you a while to get use to. But something tells you it wasn’t that exactly. One time you had slipped when washing your body, and before you could fully gasp out in surprise, you were in his arms with his face to the side.

He didn’t act the way you expected a kidnapper would. But it still didn’t explain why you were here at all.

Feitan nods at you, and you lead the way. You’ve learned he preferred to be your second shadow than to be your leading light.

Your large bathroom was attached to your equally large room. Funny how you’ve started to refer to them as ‘yours’. It’s difficult not to, when he is somehow able to let you decorate it the way you want. Feitan does that often, you’ve found. No matter how expensive your request, and you have tested that, he will get it for you. You’re scared to ask how.

He begins his routine when you both step into the bathroom. He gets the water to the temperature you like and let the bath tub fill. The sound of the tub jets fill the air, and you watch as he drips expensive oils into the water. His movements are methodical, and somehow he’s figured out the ratio of water to oil that’s right for your skin.

Feitan doesn’t dare mix the water with his hand.

Your nose is soon filled with the scent, and you feel your tense shoulders slowly let go and relax. He’s watching you, you know that. He stops the faucet when the tub fills up, and you walk up the small steps and stand in front of him.

A part of you is always tempted to touch. His pale skin is smooth and such a contrast to his dark hair. This close, you can see just a hint of green in his black eyes, the way they don’t seem to blink. You wonder if he is even human.

You nod softly and he moves behind you. You can’t even feel his presence, hear his breath, and you slightly jump when he reaches to gently clasp the small fold that holds your towel up.

Feitan waits until you calm again to continue. He never touches you directly, not even a stray touch from any finger. He takes off your towel and spreads it as a barrier between you and him.

But then you do something that has his heart beating and stopping erratically. His breath catches in his throat, your gaze turning to him and he feels trapped beneath it. How do you not know how much power you have over him?

His eyes instantly move to the way you nervously bite at your lip. Somehow he can know everything about you, how you think, how you word those thoughts, and yet now, he can’t believe what he thinks you’re going to say.

“…help me?” You say slowly, so quietly that a normal person wouldn’t have heard you.

But you know he did. And you don’t drop your eyes from him.

Feitan, in return, lets the towel drop.

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #yandere feitan #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #phantom troupe #dea writings #feitan portor x reader #lemme know how you guys interpret Feitan!

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piratefishmama · 9 months

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Fake it till you make it | Part 11

“Be careful, Eddie” were Wayne’s words as he hugged his nephew goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t see him for a whole week and honestly still being a little worried about it “if you think even for one minute that something’s off, just… just get out of there, alright?”

“I know, I know, I’ll bolt through the woods and hitchhike my way home, I know the way, Wayne, I got this.” He could read a compass, he’d be able to get a map from any gas station and head home, he was resourceful, an adult, he could handle himself.

“Damn right you got this, son. But… be careful in other ways too, alright? Steve’s a charmin boy, but… remember this ain’t real.” Eddie had bitten his bottom lip at that one, brows furrowed in thought, those big brown eyes of his swirling in emotion, he never did hide his feelings well, it’d always be a little real for him. “Protect this” Wayne poked his chest with a gentle prod, right over Eddie’s heart “okay?”

“Mhm, I will…” he’d try to anyway. Steve really was… charming. An his kisses? God his kisses… but also... it really was the closest he’d ever been to what romance ought to be, what a relationship ought to be, he never thought he’d have that.

The world didn’t appear to be moving fast enough for him to truly experience romance as most people did.

He had to remember that he didn’t have that.

“Eddie! C’mon you’re in the back with me!” Steve called from the garage door, behind which the car was rumbling, their bags packed into the back, Steve’s parents already inside, ready to go. The longest Eddie had ever been away from Wayne since arriving in Hawkins, was three days during a weekend trip to Indy with the band to play at a slightly bigger venue than the Hideout as a one off.

A favour for his favourite gay bar when a live act they’d scheduled pulled out last minute. It hadn’t gotten them a lot of exposure, but it’d been a fun and enlightening night for the band.

“Best get on, son, I’ll see you in a week. Call when you can alright? Don’t care if you wake me up or about no damn time zones, just call, I’ll answer, an if I don’t, you know the plant’s number.” Tight lipped, strained smile, Eddie nodded quickly then turned on his heel and graced Steve with a brilliant smile, game on.

“I don’t wish to alarm anyone, but... did we miss a turning?” Eddie may have been unusually quiet for the first leg of their journey, nerves having hit him like a truck the second they pulled out of Loch Nora, but he was paying attention to his surroundings.

And those surroundings, were all too quickly, Fort Wayne International Airport.

“You don’t honestly expect rich people to drive the whole way to Canada do you?” Steve’s voice was amused and came from so very close to his ear that he actually jumped, quickly turning in his seat, back plastered against his side of the back seat, eyes wide as he took in and processed what Steve said. “Plus, what would you rather do, spend nearly two days in a car with my parents—”

“We’d make wonderful road trip companions, don’t be rude Steven” came his mother’s interruption

Steve ignored it in favour of continuing his point “—orr… around ten hours in one of those with a brief stop off in Chicago.” Steve leaned inward, uncaring of personal space as he pointed to a plane, ascending into the heavens from the runway.

“I don’t—” he didn’t know. He’d never been on a plane before. Trips like that, across country, they were the stuff of road trip legend, but Steve had a point…

Two whole days of a trip stuck in a car. Or just ten hours. Eddie’s eyes skipped to the window again, to the plane now disappearing beyond the overcast cloud cover.

“It’ll be okay, Eds, I’ll sit right next to you the whole time, you’ll be okay.”

“What if we crash? What if it falls out of the sky? What’ll you do?”

“My best to keep you safe.” It was so earnest, coupled with Steve gently taking his hands and giving them a squeeze, eyes so full of raw honesty, of understanding, it hit Eddie directly in all his soft gooey bits. “I’ll hold your hand through the whole ten hours if you want.”

“Even during the stop in Chicago?”

“Hah, yeah baby, even during the stop in Chicago.”

“They’re a lot more openminded in Chicago too!” Lynda spoke up without turning her head, allowing Eddie to not get stuck on baby for too long “might get a few looks from people passing through the airport but nobody will say anything, and if they do, they deal with us.”

“If we had enough time during the stop we’d have taken a trip around the city, let you boys see some of the sights we’ve seen, but alas, our connection gives us an hour at most depending on everything being on time, and that’s just enough time to get us from one gate to the next.” John added as he pulled into the long stay parking lot. “Maybe some other time, some other family trip, eh Eddie?”

Eddie’s wide eyes turned to the front of the car, then back to Steve again, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Not surprise over the words used, but the feeling those words caused. Family trip. They were including him on future family trips.

Steve’s eyes quickly snapped from him to the front of the car and back again, then a warm smile blossomed on his lips. He lifted his hand and ever so carefully brushed a stray curl back behind Eddie’s ear, and asked so softly as his thumb lowered to brush along his jawline. “Right, Eddie?”

“Y-yeah… yeah I’d… I’d love that.” He turned his head fully toward the drivers seat, he’d never been too good at hiding his emotions, so maybe he was just a little choked up when he accepted the offer “I’d really love that.”

“Great!” The car came to a stop in one of the many parking bays, ignition off, driver side door opened “It’s settled then.” Settled. Eddie would privately mourn the knowledge that it’d never come to fruition, but… on the surface he could pretend he was excited for a future trip for the sake of the ruse. “Now boys if you could get the bigger bags out the trunk that’d be a big help! This back of mine isn’t as sturdy as it used to be.”

“You’re forty-six and go jogging almost every morning, don’t be stupid John.” Lynda whapped her husband with her handbag in gentle, semi-amused admonishment before getting out of the car.

Followed by her husband who, in a hushed tone replied with “don’t tell them that, Lynda, save us the work.” Leaving the two boys to breathe soft laughs between themselves before they too joined the older couple out in the parking lot.

“Steve...” Eddie hissed as they neared check-in.

“What?”

“I have weed” said through his teeth.

“What?” Steve paused.

“I have weed… I have weed in my suitcase.”

“You have what?!” Steve rounded on him, sentence ended with a pointed hiss

“I didn’t know we’d be flying to Canada, Steve, maybe you should tell people when you’re planning on launching them into the troposphere in a death tube!”

“Why would you bring weed on a holiday with my parents, Eddie?!”

“SHHHH, be quiet. I thought I might need it to chill out if I was freaking out at some point during the week like right now, I could really do with it right now.”

“Oh my god.”

“Steven? Is something wrong?” Lynda’s voice had them both snapping to attention, eyes wide, caught in the act. Luckily she had no idea what that ‘act’ was.

“Nope! No, uh, Eddie’s just gotta… use the bathroom real quick.”

“Well, there’s bathrooms in the business class lounge he can—"

“No! It’s uhm, it’s urgent, can’t wait, he’s uh…”

“Nerves, it’s uh, it’s nerves, I think imma hurl” she looked between them with a small frown on her face, assessing them both, it seemed like whatever she found wasn’t worth arguing about though, because she waved them off with a quick flick of her wrist.

“Alright fine, hurry up. Steven you know where the closest ones are go on now quickly before we’re late for check in, we’ll double check everything here.” John was already pausing to check through all their documents like a regular airport dad, it was the third time he’d done it since entering the airport.

“Alright let’s go, Eds, lets deal with your little problem.” At least he was soft-handed when he manhandled Eddie to the nearest bathroom, patchy suitcase with a squeaky wheel wobbling away behind them. Once inside, he checked each stall individually, before quickly turning on a wide eyed Eddie. “Where is it?” Eddie pointed down at the suitcase, and Steve snapped to action, lifting, and placing Eddie’s suitcase down on the slightly damp row of sinks. “Did you pack any liquid soaps?”

“Uhhh…” Eddie was too busy staring at the flex of Steve’s arms as he just. Lifted that whole very packed suitcase in one hoist. Fuck.

“Any shampoo? Conditioner?”

“I—I feel like my answer is going to make you mad so I’m just not going to answer.” Which on its own, was a pretty damning answer, and Steve’s expression told him as such “I don’t have a twelve step hair care routine like you do, Steve! I just… I have drug store shampoo and conditioner and that’s really only when it’s on a two for one sale! Usually I just—"

“If you say you water it down to make it last longer I’m going to throw the first thing I find in this suitcase at you.”

“Shutting up. I just thought I’d buy it there if I needed it, or just borrow yours, I know you brought some, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I figured that… if I borrowed yours it’d make it seem like I just… wanted… to smell like you?”

“You just made that up.” Eddie just smiled, all teeth and dimples, scrunching his shoulders inwards in an unfairly cute display of mischief. “You’re a menace, Munson. Get your stuff out of there for me. Don’t ever put weed in checked luggage.”

“But—”

“TSA does random checks on checked luggage all the time, an while they’re not usually looking for weed, it’ll get launched and you might get fined. Whereas you can hide weed in just about anything in a carry on, just shows up as vague blurred shit on the x-ray scanners. Just be cool when you shove it through.” Steve was rummaging in the front of his own bag now, “be cool, and act natural.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Mn once or twice, Tommy was a dick, but his cousin worked for the TSA for a few years, gave us all kinds’a neat tricks to get things through the airport.” Tommy’s cousin had gotten fired and a year inside for attempting to smuggle narcotics out of the confiscated items lock up, but that was neither here nor there. “Gimmie what you have.” Hand outstretched, Steve waited until Eddie placed the single baggie containing three roll ups and a few loose buds “Christ Eddie.”

“I knew I’d be nervous! Stop being mean to me!” Steve rolled his eyes before taking the three roll ups out of the baggie

“Your smokes, give em.” Plenty of room in the pack to slot the three roll ups, and as for the buds, Steve emptied out his travel sized bottle of hand lotion into the sink and stuffed the whole plastic bag into the little bottle, then screwed the lid on tight. Nobody would look twice at a rich kids hand lotion. “Now wet the ends of your hair.”

“What?”

“Your hair butthead! Wet it, we told my mother you’d be in here hurling your guts up, so… you got some in your hair, it’s a good extra to add to the ruse, now do it.”

“So my own boyfriend wouldn’t even hold my hair back if I threw up? Where’s the romance, where’s the commitment, where’s the care and—”

“Dude you have a lot of hair, I doubt I could get it all in my hand at once.” Although now that thought was in his head… could he? Could he get a good fistful and hold it there? Not important. “I’d drop bits.” A flimsy argument, he wouldn’t drop anything.

“Uh-huh, sure you would, big boy.” Eddie quickly dampened the tips of his hair, and ran a wet hand through his bangs quickly in a bid to fake flop sweat, theatrics over and done with. “Zipper-up, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Part 13

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #lmao this was getting long so i'm splitting it up

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louloulemons-posts · 9 months

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Can I ask for a Steve Harrington x shy!reader angst where they've been childhood best friends but Steve left her for popularity, when slowly they cross paths together again, she does little things like saves Steve's fav foods, pays for his things etc? One day Steve decides to give her something nice too and apologise for their friendship drifting apart, but right before that she falls into a horrible road accident. Carry on like you want, just give a happy ending please? :) Btw, loved Touchy-Feely a lot.;))

Old Friends

Steve Harrington x reader

summary : Steve wants to fix his friendship with Reader, but it’s not as easy as he thinks.

word count : 1.5k

(he looks so stressed in this it’s so perfect lmao)

warnings : not proofread, wrote at 3am, car accident, hospital stuff, reader is injured, swears, use of y/n like twice, fluffy ending.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It was small things, things you had always done. Giving him a pencil when he forgot his own, saving the red grapes because he hates green ones, sliding him the answers to questions that he doesn’t know.

It was a hard habit to grow out of after being friends for so long. You did try, you wanted to hate him for abandoning you. Wanted to be bitter, but he was just that boy from middle school, from kindergarten.

You did appreciate that even though you weren’t friends, whenever Tommy and Carol tried something he’d get them to leave you be.

He was your first real friend, and it was hard watching him become a completely different person overnight. People change. It’s just a shame that Steve Harrington had to become the King of Hawkins High.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Stood in the lunch line, you slid your tray across smiling softly at the lunch ladies. Finally getting to the end of the counter you picked up a fruit cup, you’d been wanting strawberries all day so this was perfect.

Heading to sit on a lunch table, you picked at a sandwich, hating your past self for not getting up 15 minutes earlier to pack your own lunch.

That was when you heard voices behind you, “It’s literally a fruit cup Steve, I’m sure you’ll live.” Tommy.

“Yeah I’ll live, it’s just one of the only decent things to eat they have.”

“Oh no, rich boy will have to starve until he gets home and his maid makes him a 3 course meal,” Carol teased.

Sighing to yourself, you’d all of a sudden gone off your food. Deciding that you’d go and sit with your friend in the art room you stood from the table. Slinging your bag over your arm, you held the tray in the other.

You knew that Steve had money, but his parents were also assholes, as soon as he could make box mac and cheese they’d leave him alone for weeks at a time. That house was big for an adult, but for a 13 year old it was like a castle.

Walking past your old friend, you placed the fruit cup down in front of him, not stopping to look at anyone. You slid your tray onto the rack with the other dirty ones and were on your way.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It was the end of the day, and you couldn’t wait to go home, your stomach was screaming for some good food.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called, a familiar one, but no it couldn’t be for you. A hand landed on your shoulder. “Hey, didn’t you hear me call you?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think you were taking to me. Hi Steve.”

“Hi,” he smiled.

“What can I do for you?”

“I um … I just wanted to say thank you, for the fruit cup.”

“Oh yeah no worries, was that all?”

“Y-yeah,” he nodded.

“Right, I’ll see you.”

“See you.” You went to walk out of the door, but the Harrington boy called your name. “Yeah?”

“Did you … did you want to hang out?”

His eyes looked scared, afraid that you’d reject him. He’d never grown out of the habit of picking his nails when he was nervous. Giving him a soft smile you spoke, “Sure, I’d like that.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The plan was to meet at Benny’s, you went there a lot when you were younger. You’d hang out, catch up, all that fun stuff. You didn’t know why you were nervous, it was just Steve.

Sure it’d been 3 years since you had a conversation with the boy, but he was still Steve Harrington. Your best friend. Well ex- best friend.

Driving along you were making good time, you were meeting Steve at 5:30 and it was now just past 5. The roads weren’t super busy so you could get there a bit earlier, and then try and calm down.

It would be fine, you’d go, have milkshakes, chat, have burgers, chat, have another milkshake, drive home and probably not talk to him for another 3 years of your life.

“Hey watch out!” a woman screamed as her son fell of his bike and into the road, right in front of you. Swerving the car, you stomach lurched.

The force of the turn making it uncontrollable, slamming you into a tree. Your head hit the steering wheel, blood falling down. “Ow, god my head,” you whined, trying to figure out what had happened.

It was so fuzzy, everything felt like it was going in slow motion. Ringing filled your ears and your head pounded, eyes growing heavy as you let your head rest against the wheel.

You’d just close your eyes for a second, just one second.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

He’d been here for 45 minutes now, he looked like a fool. You’d stood him up. He understood that he wasn’t a good friend for leaving you to fend for yourself in highschool, but seriously.

Sighing to himself, he pushed up from the booth, leaving a tip on the table and headed out to his car. He needed to see you, needed to know why you didn’t come.

Driving to your house seemed like the best idea, that way you could talk with nobody else around. It’d be relaxed and comfortable.

Raising a brow as he drove past a tow truck pulling a car away from a tree, ouch that must of hurt. Hopefully everyone was okay.

Soon enough he arrived at your place, parking just a few doors down he walked up, hoping your mother and father would remember who he was. He changed, but not that much.

As he was ready to ring the bell, your mom opened the door. “Oh uh hi,” he said.

“Steve honey, hello,” she sounded out of breath. “I was just wondering if Y/N was here?”

“Y/N,” she began to tear up, “They’ve been in an accident, I’ve just come back pick up their things.”

“An accident?”

“A kid came into the road, they didn’t hit them but they hit a tree. Hit their head.”

He thought back to the scene he’d come across a few moments before. Holy shit. It was your car. How could he not recognise it was yours.

Guilt flooded his chests. He had been angry at you for not showing up. You had been on the way. You’d saved a kids life and risked your own. You were hurt. In the hospital and he was mad.

“Steve,” your mom spoke, “Would you like to come with me to see them?” His eyes were glassy and he sniffed, “Would you mind?”

“Come on Honey.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Waking up your whole body hurt. What happened? The lights were so bright. Where were you? Beeping sound filled the room you were in, unfamiliar bed clothes covered you and a hand rested in yours.

You squinted, looking at a familiar face, “Steve?”

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” the boy exclaimed, “Hang on let me just get a nurse.”

“Nurse?” you asked, confused. Pushing yourself up, Steve ran to your side, “Hey take it easy!”

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” you said, rubbing your eyes, “I was coming to meet you.”

“You got into a crash,” he said, taking your hand softly. Scrunching your face, you remembered bits and pieces.

“Is the little boy okay?” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at that, of course you’d be more worried about someone else. “He’s fine. Him and his mom brought you some flowers.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the diner.”

“Please don’t apologise, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve been there.”

“Like I should’ve been there for the past 3 years,” he sighed.

“Steve-“ he cut you off.

“No, I’m so sorry. I hate that I abandoned you, you’re my best friend and I just left you and when I try and fix it you get hurt!”

“Stevie, that wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was! If I hadn’t of left you we wouldn’t have had to meet up and catch up, you wouldn’t have driven past that kid. You’d be okay.”

“I am okay.”

“You’ve got stitches!”

“I do?” you asked, reaching up to touch your forehead. “Don’t! Gosh don’t touch, it’ll hurt,” Steve said.

“Sorry mom.”

“Oh shush.”

“It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t my fault. It was an accident, and I’m okay. I promise,” you said, squeezing the boys hand. “I want us to be friends I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too Stevie,” you smiled at the boy, “But there is no way in hell I’m hanging out with Tommy and Carol.”

“Oh I wouldn’t do that to you, they’re horrible.”

“Why are you friends with them?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Well it’s okay, you’ve got me now.”

Rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand he laughed softly, “Yeah I do, and I don’t plan on ever leaving you again.”

“I’ll hold you to that Harrington.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : I am sooo sorry this took me so long to write, I didn’t see it in my requests. I hope you enjoyed it 🫶🏻

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanficton #steve harrington drabble #strsnger things #strangerthings #stranger things imagine #joe keery imagines #joe keery #louloulemons

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bubuslutty · 11 months

Text

pirate!captain Price au

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none. pretty sfw

a/n: im so in love with him it's pathetic. that's all I have to say

I need pirate!Captain Price.

I need him smoking with his foot propped up on the edge of his ship, the wind making his long coat dance in the wind.

I need him to stroke his beard while listening to whatever poor excuse someone gives him while owing him money before he orders his boys to tie them up and throw them to the sharks.

I need him to be ruthless with a soft spot for the misfits and orphans, more than often giving money to the beggars when he thinks no one is looking.

I need him to be a huge tease and start trimming his beard with his knife, or sword when someone’s boring him with loads of bullshit.

I need him to kiss a Lady breathless right before he jumps out of her window after he and his boys just robbed them of their riches.

I need him to place his hat on his face and take a nap on his hammock, snoring loudly away while his boys are daring each other to jump naked in the cold sea.

I need him to be so confident in himself and his skills, but not feel the need to prove it to anyone. He can take up anyone in a fight and win. He could have chugged 4 pints and was a bit wobbly on his feet, but as soon as he has his gun or sword in his hand, he never misses. Or heck, even his own fists could kill a man even if he was drunk, with pink cheeks, glassy eyes and all.

He’s fast, rude and absolutely despised by the Royal Navy. He’s been caught a couple of times and thrown in prison so he could be hung for his crimes, but he managed to escape every time. And when he didn’t, he would be standing in the middle of a clearing, waiting to be hung when his boys come out of nowhere, raining bullets and fire on the Navy, rescuing their Captain like they’ve done it a million times before. And the only reason he allowed himself to stay in the hands of the Navy for that long is because his boys begged him to let them rescue him, because according to their words, “It’d be fun."

I need pirate!Captain Price to be loved by pub owners and whores. Because not only is he generous when it comes to paying for everyone’s food and drinks, he’s generous in giving out as many orgasms as his partner for the night wants. He would treat the whores like Ladies, even though they won’t consider themselves anything close to high-class proper Lady. And when everyone’s satiated and drowsy, Price makes sure to leave a hefty amount of money under their pillow before he leaves.

Pirate!Captain Price who wouldn’t want to settle down any time soon, who feels more comfortable in constantly moving around and being surrounded by his boys, who’re practically his family. He feels like he’s meant to be some sort of shepherd to those who the streets treat unkindly. He’d rather offer a job to someone than see them lost in the streets, with no one to rely on. So he’s some sort of Robin Hood in his own ways.

And when fate finally slaps him across the face with love, it happens in the most unexpected ways. It happens on a random Monday, Gaz shouts that there’s another ship not far off on the East and everyone gets ready to attack it. When they do attack the ship, swinging abroad and scaring the crewmate shitless, John finds himself in the middle of a wedding, a bride, groom, guests and the priest about to make them say their vows.

And everyone is obviously terrified, but John’s no cruel man, he can’t ruin a poor couple’s special day, so he thinks about leaving until he meets the bride’s eyes. She was pretty, oh so pretty all dressed in white lace and pearls, but she also looked terrified, hands trembling on her sides and he understands, she was scared for her life. John glances at his boys and tells them to leave without saying a word, and then he notices the tables with wine and champagne, and John has to have a sip or bottle, doesn’t matter.

And that’s how he makes the biggest mistake ever, he walks to the front, where the couple was frozen along with the priest with the table to their left, and really, why put the drinks at the front? Why not at the back? But John doesn’t care to think too much of it, he ignores an old woman flinching and slapping a hand over her mouth and he hums, picks a flute of champagne, and their biggest, most expensive bottle of wine.

Right as his lips were about to touch the edge of the flute, he sees a blur of ivory white in the corner of his eyesight, and everything happens so fast that he failed to stop the bride from grabbing his sword right under his nose. John meets her eyes and it was the first time he truly felt scared for his life, her eyes were dark and absolutely furious and he thought that was it, he was about to die by the feet of a priest and groom, stabbed to death by the prettiest bride he’s ever seen, truly an Angel sent down to pierce his heart and make him bleed for all of his sins.

But she doesn’t stab him.

Instead, she buries the sword in her groom’s heart and the ship erupts in horrified gasps and screams. John watches in real time how the priest faints and how the groom meets his bride’s eyes, unable to breathe while his clothes are getting soaked in pure red at a concerning speed. He curses her out and John is so lost, what the fuck did just happen?

And it seemed like that was not all because the bride is panting and had a wild look on her face, and she turns to someone in the crowd, screaming at the top of her lungs, “I TRUSTED YOU!”

John looks at the crowd and quickly sees an older woman with a guilty and terrified look on her face, hm, must be her mother, same eyes and hair. Then the click of a gun somehow reaches John’s ears in the chaos and he sees a man lift his gun, pointing it towards the bride, and John realises it’s the poor bloke’s father who the bride just killed. John’s hands drop the bottle, the liquid staining his clothes and he grabs the bride without thinking, he throws her over his shoulder and snatches back his sword and jumps out of the window, landing on his ship.

And he doesn’t have to say anything before his boys steer his ship away and they sail as fast and as far as the wind carries them, away from the mess the bride left behind. Well, she wasn't a bride anymore, was she?

When John’s senses catch up with his reality, he finds himself hovering over the bride, her see-through veil still draped over her angelic face, doing nothing to hide her wild eyes as she stared at John, chest heaving up and down. And he was still clutching onto his sword, the blade bloody and warm, matching the same colour of the wine that was now staining his trousers.

What did I just do?

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs @canadianmilkbag

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daylo-hun · 11 months

Note

Hobie doing his best attempt at a none marriage proposal, proposal

sorry this took so long!! and i kinda lost the plot wit this one but 🤷🏾‍♀️

☆

Staring into the blinding lights of New York had somehow made Miles’s senses even more sensitive. The soft breeze is warm tonight, just in time for summer. The crumbling concrete rooftop of the building he sat upon was particularly rough. And the hot flush on his cheeks was a reminder that Hobie had made his seat next to him.

They had finished up swinging around, sneaking out after Miles’s parents were in a deep sleep, and decided to have some fun on their own. Quick flirtations and quips were thrown back and forth and were seared in Miles’s mind as he replayed them over and over again in his mind. A chuckle came out at the thought of a particular advance made from Hobie

“What’s so funny luv?” Hobie asked, a small grin appearing on his stained lips.

“Nothin, it’s just… earlier you said that my eyes were perfectly brown like a hazelnut, and it reminded me how much I’ve been craving a damn Ferrero Rocher lately”

Hobie smiled “What’s a Ferrero Rochay’? S’ that like a candy?”

Miles’s eyes widened, “You’ve never heard of a Ferrero Rocher?! They’re so good man, like my top candy ever. There’s a crumbly shell of chocolate topped with like these nuts that surrounds this hazelnut spread. And it’s creamy and rich and chocolatey and so good. I’d right an essay about them if I wanted.” He felt his mouth water at the thought of it, his eyes starry with imagination.

The punk paused “Ay, hope you’re describin’ me like that when I’m not by your side. You gave a whole lil speech right then” Hobie teased with a laugh.

Miles rolled his eyes as he chuckled and gave a weak punch to Hobie’s shoulder.

“Ok bro. Sorry I like chocolate and you can’t appreciate that”

“Nah, I do ‘preciate it. It’s cute when you talk like that, puttin’ your private school education to use.”

Miles huffed an amused exhale. When Hobie said stuff like that, so boldly and outright, it made Miles love him even more. Maybe it was because he liked the confirmation of Hobie’s words, it made him secure in himself. He turned slightly to steal a glance at the other.

Sparks created when their eyes met, love and admiration for the other as they stared.

Hobie looked at Miles like he was taking him apart, studying every feature on his face. The other made quick glances at Hobie’s lips, noting his dark lipstick. Miles was the first one to look away with a shy smile on his face.

Hobie broke the silence once again.

“You’ve been drawin’? Last time I was here, you said you’d show me your piecebook”

Miles was taken back, and a little embarrassed. If anyone looked in his piecebook they’d find multiple doodles of Hobie, so many in fact that even extreme stalkers would be stunned.

“Uh…yeah. You could say that. Been sketchin’ some new designs that I wanna paint on a few buildings” He shrugged, reframing from looking at the other.

Hobie hummed in acknowledgment. “I wanna go ‘round and paint wit ya one day. You gotta show me your favorite spots. Think it’d be proper fun, ‘specially wit your talents”

“Sure, I got a few places in mind already” Miles said as he continued to stare at the lights below. He could still feel his cheeks burning at the boy that sat next to him. Hobie just seemed to never let up.

He could feel Hobie staring at him.

“Miles, look at me luv” Hobie’s voice was close to a whisper, tone as gentle as his movements as he slowly reached a hand over to Miles’s face.

Miles let Hobie’s hand control his head as he turned, trusting the other with him.

“Sorry, I just-You’re a damn flirt machine man, and I can’t handle all this praise in the span of like 5 minutes” Miles chuckled, still looking to the side, so obviously avoiding eye contact with the other.

Hobie’s hands were massive compared to Miles’s face, holding the mass carefully like a newborn baby.

They stared at each other once again, before Hobie spoke, once again.

“Miles, I really like you. And… fuck, this is gonna be a long one, don’t get mad at me if I mess up” Hobie chuckled.

Miles felt his breath hitch.

“…I want to stay by your side for a very very long time Miles. I want to praise you endlessly in the span of seconds. I want to hear you rant about an endless slew of random things, like your piecebook or your favorite chocolates”

“I want to stay by your side long enough until our monikers are on each building and corner of New York and then some. I want to see a piece of us, together, wherever we look-A reminder that we’re together in all this shit. I want to be with you for a long while, Miles Morales. Will you stay by my side, for a long while.”

Hobie stared into Miles’s eyes. Miles’s stared into Hobie’s eyes.

“Hobie, I-“ Miles didn’t know what to say truthfully. He has so much admiration and love and respect and suprise for Hobie in this moment that he couldn’t truthfully put it into words. So he put it into action.

Miles leaned forward, face inches away from Hobie before he closed the gap. Lips met and Miles had never felt more at peace. They moved in sync as they let their love for each other communicate.

He loved this, physical intimacy that can’t be denied or not justified. He liked having this conformation that someone understood and loved him. And that was Hobie.

Hobie’s lips were soft, yet chapped and cold, yet warm and plump. Maybe he was just romanticizing his first kiss, but this was the best kiss he’s ever experienced.

They parted, unfortunately for the both of them and stared at each other. A beat skipped in Hobie’s heart when he heard Miles speak.

“I’ll stay by your side. For as long as possible, for as long as we’re together, I’ll stay with you forever, Hobie” A genuine smile displayed on Miles’s face.

He loved him so much.

#miles morales #spider punk #hobie brown #hobart brown #sony spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #punkflower #flowerpunk #miles x hobie #miles spiderman #ship: miles/hobie #hobie x miles #spiderman into the spiderverse

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thetarttfuldickhead · 1 year

Text

Like Phil, I’d like to think that Jamie and Keeley still go to Brazil, in spite of the boys’ recent fuck-up, but I’d also like to think that Roy comes with them. Not because Jamie and Keeley can’t be friend on their own or wouldn’t have the best time doing Brazil together – they would! – but because I think Jamie might be conscious, given everything that’s gone down recently, of potentially upsetting what he currently perceives as a rather delicate balance.

Maybe he brings it up a few days later before they head over to Keeley’s for a joint apology, or maybe it happens already at the holy kebab place, once they’ve had a few bites and a chance to settle back into their normal; a little worse for wear, but with no lasting harm done.

And Jamie fiddles with his sleeves and makes little faces as he tries to decide what to say (and Roy notices and waits with some trepidation) and in the end he just comes right out and says it, because that’s what Jamie does, isn’t it?

“I asked Keeley to go to Brazil with me, for that Nike thing I’m doing.”

Roy blinks. He hadn’t known Jamie was doing a Nike thing. Jamie might have told him, but Roy usually stops listening whenever he starts blathering on about brands and clothes and shit, so yeah, if told he hadn’t heard.

“What did she say?” he asks after a slightly too long and awkward moment of Jamie looking up at him, almost through his fucking eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

“She said yes.” And hastily, as if worried what Roy might say or do if given a moment to, he adds: “I didn’t do it to try to get back together or anything. I mean, I do wanna get back together and she’s my friend and I love her and I thought we’d have a great time, yeah, but also, she’s great at PR and all that stuff, so. Yeah. That’s why I asked her to come. Make sure I don’t fuck it up.”

And because you want her to be your girlfriend. Roy doesn’t say it, though. Neither of them want a repeat of what went down at the bar. This isn’t Jamie trying to goad him or hurt him, he’s pretty fucking sure of that, so he’ll listen carefully to everything Jamie has to say, and then he’ll react like a fucking grown-up.

Probably. Possibly.

“Anyway, I think you should, like, come with us.”

Fucking what now? “What?”

“You should come with me and Keeley to Brazil.” Jamie is nodding his head decisively, as if repeating the statement has fully convinced him of its veracity.

“You want me to come with you and Keeley to fucking Brazil?” Roy is aware of sounding like a demented parrot, but he doesn’t give a fuck, does he, because he doesn’t want there to be any fucking room for misinterpretation here.

Jamie doesn’t seem particularly concerned about Roy’s tone. Too used to it, probably. “Um, yeah. Yeah. I mean, probably can’t get Nike to pay for it, right, but you’re rich, so you can just get your own ticket and you can stay with me and Keeley in this villa they’ll set us up in. Can’t mind that.”

Which all sounds very reasonable, of course, but still doesn’t answer the most pressing question: “Why?”

Jamie makes a face. “What do you mean, why? Because I don’t want shit to be weird between us, mate. And I think it’d be weird if Keeley and I went away and you stayed here after what happened, you know. Besides,” he adds, and suddenly he looks slightly shy; younger than he actually is, and vulnerable, “It’d probably be fun, yeah? All three of us going, together. Because we’re friends and all.”

And there’s something sharp and jagged turning in Roy’s gut at that, because underneath Jamie’s claim there’s a note of uncertainty that Roy had no trouble whatsoever guessing the origin of, and he adds it to the long list of things he hates himself for.

He doesn’t know how to express any of that, so what he says is, “Yeah. I guess. I’ll think about it.”

Jamie’s grin is immediate and wide; relieved and triumphant in equal measure, like he’s already won – like he already knows for a fact that Roy’s going to say yes.

Roy can’t even find it in him to mind that the little prick is right.

And then they all go to Brazil and I’m currently thinking that nothing further really happened between them there, because apparently they all need to do a little more thinking and feeling and figuring themselves out, but I’m sure they still had a grand, grand time of it.

#just want to be very clear that i absolutely think that jamie and keeley could and should do things on their own #as should keeley and roy #and roy and jamie #no matter what form their future relationship takes #i just think that RIGHT NOW jamie might be conscious of things getting weirdly skewed if him and keeleys goes off on their own #and he very much wants to get back with keeley but he's not ready to sacrifiece his relationship with roy for it #so FOR NOW it's a little bit of a balancing act #jamie tartt #roy kent #roy & jamie #roy/keeley/jamie #roy x jamie x keeley #ficlet #ish #i am trying to write a serious meta about the bar fight AND answer some asks but i keep getting distracted #whoops innit

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brandogenius · 2 months

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Christmas?? Last Christmas I made cookies that looked like the boys! maybe reader and phoebe make cookies of each other and the boys, and they take a a photo and post it like a family photo! Maybe readers cookie is like an angel lol -💛

omg!! i love that so much that sounds like so much fun! i’m actually making gingerbread men tomorrow so i wanna make the boys 😭 if i succeed i’ll show y’all!

this is so cute i wanna cry 😭 i love it!!

(edit: i had two requests actually of baking with phoebe so i mashed them the two fics i wrote together 😭)

‼️RPF‼️

ONE SHOT - phoebe x reader - christmas cookies

Word count: 761

“i think this one is perfect as her” phoebe held up a gingerbread. it was the smallest out of the batch you both made.

“for julien?” you looked up at phoebe. she grinned over at you. eyes twinkling with the bright light above. it was the middle of December at 5pm on a friday evening. the sun has already set. snow was falling outside. the small snowman both of you made was staring directly at you from beside the wall. lopsided smile made from stones. carrot slowly falling off its face as snow accumulated around it. you glanced back at phoebe who was piping black icing into a bag.

“it’d be funny! i think she’d like it”

“i think she’ll threaten to hit you with it” you teased, working on lucy’s hair. “how many did you do so far?”

“four” phoebe gestures to the decorated gingerbread men on the rack by the oven. “i wanna make one of you” she pulled her sleeves up, wiping away some leftover flour from her face. you shook your head, grabbing the small towel and wiping away the icing from phoebes nose. “thank you for helping me with these today, baby”

“i’m glad you trust me enough to measure ingredients” phoebe chuckled. “these turned out perfect. i thought it was going to flop.” she held up the finished julien cookie, excitedly showing you.

“not when i’m here. i’m the baking expert here. you want some more hot chocolate?” you moved past phoebe, taking out some of the instant hot chocolate making kit, your mom gifted you and phoebe early for christmas

phoebe nodded her head. humming softly to the christmas music playing from your phone. the kitchen was a mess. baking utensils littered the counter top. trays of gingerbread men, decorated to represent phoebe julien and lucy sat neatly on a baking tray. the smell of cinnamon, ginger and chocolate wafted through the air.

wrapping paper was spread out all over the kitchen table. gifts stacked one on top of the other with cards splattered around. it was a mess but the familiar nostalgia filled your chest. a warm christmas that’s what it was.

it reminds you of when you were a child. playing with your dolls in the living room by the christmas tree while your parents wrapped the gifts and your grandparents baked cookies. it was a sweet feeling. you were in that spot now. wrapping gifts for friends and family members.

phoebe made sure to make it very clear what wrapping paper belonged to what gift. “that doll set for your baby cousin? it goes with the pink wrapping paper- sit it on top so we don’t forget. your parents get this nice champagne gold coloured wrapping paper- lucy might like that rich blue one. we’re giving julien the kids one because she’s a child-“ “you’re stressing out too much about this, my love”

“honey?” you shook out of your thoughts, smiling over at phoebe who held up one of the cookies. “i made you!”

“did you?” you walked back over to phoebe, leaning your head on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her waist. she was warm. she relaxed in your hold, giggling to herself. “i look different than the rest”

“i kinda fucked it up a bit”

“i can tell”

phoebe pouted as you chuckled, kissing her cheek. “it reminds me of an angle though. if you squint you can see the wings” phoebe squinted her eyes before a small grin appears on her face.

“it does- pfft” she smiled, turning around so her back was pressed against the counter. “- that’s what i was going for. that was the plan.” “really?” you teased, your hands finding their place on her hips. she leaned in to place a small kiss to your lips. “of course”

“why don’t we start cleaning up? we need to get started on wrapping the gifts” you broke away, grabbing the towel and turned on the sink, washing your hands under the tap.

“i’ll start wrapping. you can write the cards” phoebe wiped her hands with the towel, walking over to the table.

“on it. what are we doing this year? from reader and phoebe? from the two gays?” you questioned, making your way to the table, looking at the card before writing a small merry christmas message.

“from the wives.” phoebe looked up grinning. you looked at the small ring on your hand as you chuckled.

“yeah that sounds good. merry christmas and happy holidays. from the wives”

“it sounds very gay. i like it”

#pom writes #anons #yellow heart anon the slayest #phoebe bridgers x reader #phoebe bridgers au #phoebe bridgers angst #phoebe bridgers blurb #phoebe bridgers headcanons #phoebe bridgers fluff #phoebe bridgers one shot #phoebe bridgers fanfic #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #boygenius au #boygenius one shot #boygenius blurb #boygenius headcanons #boygenius angst #boygenius fluff

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hxhhasmysoul · 16 days

Note

Can I ask from this ask game : https://www.tumblr.com/toomanyfandomsthings/749729499738996736/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-tell-you?source=share

No. 2, 10, 11, 12, 15 for KilluGon and SukuIta.... Thanks ......🌻

I did it all of those, they looked fun I hope you don't mind.

KilluGon

1. Which one is the better cook?

Canonically neither is a good cook XD But I think Gon can cook some basic stuff even if it’s not amazing and Killua is a spoiled rich boi who just can’t cook at all. In AU I still think Killua just wouldn’t know how to cook most of the time unless he ran away with his sisters and had to step up, maybe he could know how to bake if he stayed with his family. Gon would know at least the basics of cooking, because Mito wouldn’t let him move out if he didn’t.

2. What do their love letters look like?

Gon is super suave, he has his way with words. He’d quote poetry or movies. He would attach dry flowers to the letters.

Killua would be awkward, he wouldn’t know what to write, there’d be few words in the letter, He’d use colourful ink though, and cute stickers, especially rare ones, like ones you win in some way.

3. Which one outlives the other, and how do they cope?

I think Gon could live longer because he has a better diet. But if he was old he’d wither slowly once Killua died, it just wouldn’t be the same.

4.What do they do on date night?

That’s Gon’s ballpark, he’d make plans. Each date would be different. Some would be small and intimate, some grand and with many events along the way. Killua would try to plan something sometimes, probably something geeky, Gon would indulge him.

5. How many kids will they have?

In canon? Likely none, they would jump from one adventure to another, there wouldn’t be time for kids. In AU that’d depend on the story. Like in my political clans AU, I imagine them having a kid eventually, though it would be a difficult choice because Gon travels for work in that one. It’d take negotiating and him taking a more stationary job at least when the kid was small. Also In my magical creatures AU they would have kids eventually, they would both be really into it and commit to it. But for example in the Regency AU, or the cyberpunk one I don’t think they would.

6. How do they decorate their bedroom?

Like the rest of their house. Gon has his geeky shit connected to plants and animals, Killua has his geeky shit connected to games. It’s chaos. I’m sure Killua has a Gold Dust Girl bodypillow, they both sleep on it. On their blanket there is a huge frog.

7 Which one is the worse driver?

Killua, the road rage is high with that one.

8. What do they argue about?

The canon stuff, like their self-destructive tendencies, overreliance on each other, etc. They aren’t great communicators and situations that could’ve been talked out escalate to arguments.

9. Which one swears more?

Gon, that’s just canon. Killua doesn’t really seriously swear.

10. What TV shows do they watch together, and which ones do they hide from the other?

They watch all the stuff together, they can be cringe with each other.

11. What was their first impression of each other?

“He’s so cool”, for both of them.

12. What do they do for their anniversary?

Something wild, likely they go on an adventure together.

13. Which one makes a bigger deal of birthdays?

They both make a big deal of birthdays.

14. What nicknames do they call each other?

I’m not really sure, they don’t seem that big on nicknames. When I come up with nicknames for them in AUs it’s tied to the AU and not canon.

15. What would they change about each other?

Their communication skills, their self-destructiveness. Like both of them really are against the other sacrificing himself and yet they just don’t listen.

_____________

SukuIta

1. Which one is the better cook?

Yuuji, unless it’s an AU where Sukuna is a pro chef, then he’s either better or they are equals.

2. What do their love letters look like?

Sukuna’s look like proper Heian love letters, written on the paper matching the season, containing a well crafted tanka.

Even if Yuuji writes a tanka back, it’s a bit humorous but likely still has the seasonal word. It’s on Hello Kitty paper because Yuuji knows Sukuna is secretly a Kitty fan.

3. Which one outlives the other, and how do they cope?

Yuuji lives longer because he’s younger. He compartmentalises it, like every loss in his life it just adds to his general sense of misery.

4. What do they do on date night?

Something kinky.

5. How many kids will they have?

I feel like none, Sukuna’s the baby kind of… XD

Though in an AU setting they could have kids, it depends.

6. How do they decorate their bedroom?

I feel Sukuna generally has an expensive and snobby taste so he really pushes for a fancy house/apartment. I feel he likes it traditional, or in Modern AU, modern meets traditional. But I think in the bedroom Yuuji managed to get some cute elements, possibly a big Kitty plush, maybe even a Kitty duvet or bed sheets.

7 Which one is the worse driver?

Sukuna, the road rage is high with that one.

8. What do they argue about?

Ideals, their world views are not the same. Where and how they live, Yuuji doesn’t really desire opulence. Sukuna’s better than thou attitude. Yuuji devoting too much time to others. They have a lot to work through.

9. Which one swears more?

I feel Yuuji more casually but also less harshly. When Sukuna swears it’s like a punch.

10. What TV shows do they watch together, and which ones do they hide from the other?

They watch Yuuji’s horror movies and anime together, and discuss it together. Sukuna doesn’t always manage to win the “this is trash” argument, Yuuji’s good at noticing cool and poignant stuff in pop culture. They don’t watch Jeniffer Lawrence films together, Sukuna gets jealous. Also Sukuna hides that he sometimes watches sappy romance, to criticise it of course but also when Yuuji is aways and Sukuna is lonely.

11. What was their first impression of each other?

Sukuna’s impression of Yuuji: “What a naive fool. Would be an easy to fuck if he didn’t look like he’s needy.” Or to translate it into normal language from repression and denial: “Fuck he’s cute, he fasicnates me, I want him so badly but I’m terrified of commitment.”

Yuuji’s impression of Sukuna: “What a stuck up jerk! Nice ass though, why the fuck do I want him? What is wrong with me?”

12. What do they do for their anniversary?

Something really kinky that takes most of the day/night. There’s also a fancy dinner/breakfast after the kinky stuff.

13. Which one makes a bigger deal of birthdays?

Yuuji because he wants big parties.

14. What nicknames do they call each other?

Sukuna’s for Yuuji is obviously “brat”, sometimes something like “sweet/cute brat”.

Yuuji’s for Sukuna, in the beginning it’s likely “pompous/snobby jerk”, later just “Kuna”.

15. What would they change about each other?

Their respective world view. Sukuna wants to bring Yuuji down to his level. Yuuji just wants Sukuna not to be a menace to society.

#answering asks #thank you for the ask #killugon #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #hxh #hunter x hunter #sukuita #itadori yuuji #sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #headcanons

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ryuichirou · 5 months

Text

Replies

It’s been a while! Being productive at the end of the year is truly one of the most difficult things in the world… But here are some replies~

simplydlightfuldestiny asked:

Whenever I look at the shroud brothers or specifically Idia, I kept thinking: I wonder if he would be hooked of angelique layer?

It's an old series made by CLAMP (card captor sakura, tsubasa chronicles, etc..)

But basically it's a battle of figurines that's linked to your mind and teamwork. I think he may have gotten inspired by it when he first made ortho.

You know, I also wonder what kind of anime Idia used to like as a kid and which ones he likes now. He seems to enjoy the “cute girls doing random things” genre, but he’s also definitely a man of culture that has a lot of favourite titles of all kinds of genre. He definitely would like something from CLAMP.

I haven’t seen Angelique Layer, but BATTLE OF FIGURINES!! That’s fun.

Maybe he did get inspired by it to some degree (he absolutely got inspired by anime, let’s be honest), but I can also imagine Idia realising the similarities later, maybe when he rewatches it together with Ortho.

Anonymous asked:

What would be one example of Azul and Idia being affectionate with one another

What are you talking about, Anon? They're always affectionate.... 🥹

But I’ll answer your question properly as well!

It’s very difficult to catch these two being affectionate with one another due to their condition (“being allergic to being emotionally open and vulnerable”), these instances are quite rare, but also completely depend on Azul’s mood. Idia just prefers not to do anything; the most thing you’d get from him is that sometimes he won’t tease Azul for being affectionate. Sometimes he might even kiss him back or push his cheek against Azul’s in a surprisingly cute way. But for that to work they need to be alone and frankly to shut the fuck up. And once again, Azul needs not to feel bitchy and pissy that day.

But also, these two are the most passionate for each other when they do something together and it works. Especially Azul. If something that he and Idia have been working on works exactly how they’d planned it, he’ll get so overjoyed that he’ll hug and kiss Idia, scaring the shit out of him…

Anonymous asked:

Do you think if Jamil died then Kalim would turn out like Prince Soma in Black Butler? Go from happy to angry-despair?

I honestly believe that Kalim would overblot if something happened to Jamil. I say it every time we’re getting asked about Kalim’s possible overblot (which I find almost impossible, unless something happens to Jamil lol).

But if he is defeated and calmed down, it’d definitely affect his disposition for quite some time. A lot of it also depends on just how Jamil died in this scenario… But even if there is a culprit, I feel like Kalim would be more sad than angry.

Which doesn’t mean that he won’t brutally punish the culprit (which really goes against his morals, so it’d be extra painful), and also doesn’t mean that his mental state won’t progressively get worse and worse. Maybe he’ll become apathetic, maybe he’ll become even more self-indulgent, but deep inside he’ll mourn Jamil forever.

Anonymous asked:

Any thoughts on Ruggie x Idia?

“Oh Ruggie deserved it” was my first thought lol please give him all the S.T.Y.X. money. Azul would have to fight the hyena boy yet again!!

But in all honesty, that vignette where Ruggie saw Idia stalking Jack during the PE class and didn’t tell on him was quite nice. Even though it was for Ruggie’s own benefit, I like how he prefers to build connections instead of immediately trying to blackmail Idia for some perks.

+ I really like the fact that Ruggie seemed to be aware that Idia Shroud is _that_ Shroud, while the rest of the cast seemingly either didn’t think much about Idia at all or believed that he just happens to have the same last name as that rich and powerful family. It just shows who really pays attention lol

In general, even though they really don’t have all that much in common, at the same time both of them have this pragmatic side and “mind your own business” side, so I think they could get along or at least have interesting interactions. One thing that they definitely would have a conflict about is the fact that Idia clutters his place with merch and stuff, and Ruggie absolutely wouldn’t understand the idea of collecting useless items (we’ve seen this conflict during their Glorious Masquerade interactions)… So there is a lot of “food” for this ship if you think about it.

So yeah, we’re not deeply into them, but we definitely aren’t opposed to them as a ship.

#replies #about characters #azuide #kalijami

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bloomingpresent · 1 year

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Ferro Rosso Chapter VI

Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Female reader digital artist older woman

Summary: on your mids 30’s you never imagine you’d be divorce. To help with the healing process you decide to return to you first love: digital illustration. Posting videos of your art online leads you to work for Ferrari. But you never thought it’d lead you to find somebody that’s going to bring you back to trust again in love.

Warnings: none, this one it's pretty much fluff. Some swearing.

Disclaimer: Again, this one it's fluff but these two did get something out of their chest that they wanted to get out. And I’m pretty happy with how their conversation went.So after this one, things are getting spicier. So bear with this fluff chapter one more time, please. I promise spicy stuff is coming. It's a short one.

All the previous chapters are here

“You think you can play me like this .. like I don’t understand anything? You think just because you’re older I won’t feel like you’re using me and I’m some stupid kid? You think you can take me for a joke?”. Charles's words ramble out of him. He’s been keeping all inside.

You walk back inside the room pulling him with you, you can’t have this conversation out in the hallway.“Using you? For what? I got where I am because of me! Be very careful Charles” you warn him.

“You know what? You’re right! You don’t need me because you’re older, wiser, and more experienced. You just wanted the fun times with the cute boy with no strings attached.” Charles says, even if that’s not what he really thinks, frustration had taken a toll on him.

Now you’re not sad or frustrated anymore. You’re mad. “We both enter this physical relationship knowing what we were getting into it. You're not a boy you're an adult as same as I am. So don't give me that crap ok?”.

Charles crossed his arms on his chest. “I thought it would be just that. A physical relationship. We’d meet, we’d have fun, and go back to our lives. And it’s funny because I’m usually the one who doesn’t get attached…”

You cut him “When I tried to contact you you ran away from me, ignore me!”

“It wasn’t like that! I got scared. I was too out of control. So I just stopped talking to you, to everyone” he says lowering the tone.

“Very mature of you Charles” you say in a mocking tone.

“You can make fun of me if you want to, but this is me being honest!" He points at you near your face "I am out of control! You seem to be so much ‘older and wiser’ and I’m just this young dumb kid…” he says mocking you now.

“I didn't say that. I felt so stupid wanting to contact you, wanting to know how you were, feeling sorry for the horrible races and you just ignored me. Can you understand that?!” now you were getting things off your chest.

“ Can YOU get it? Or you’re pretending? or maybe I’m some kid you can use and throw away like a piece of trash? That fucks all the women he can without even caring” Charles feels like his head is going to explode. Blood pumping into his system like crazy.

Both of you are so into your own battles.

“Oh god! you are not getting me. I come from a divorce, a bad one, you are the famous f1 driver, rich and famous and you can have any girl you want. You came to me we had fun and we agreed that it'll be just that. And then when I try to contact you and you show up with your girlfriend showing her off. How did you expect me to feel?” There it is, this is what’s been bothering you really.

“Oh, so this about my fame and my money now? You think I’m taking all the advantage, is it? You think I’m just playing around like a kid because I can have any woman I want? You seriously think I don’t have any feelings? Just because I’m an f1 driver?, you think I don’t get hurt? Don’t suffer?”. The pressure it’s real for Charles, and he is slowly losing his mind, and you’re not helping either with all of this.

“Well, that's what you are showing me lately.” you just reply and wait for his answer.

“Damn it y/n! You have no idea what I’ve been through in my career! All my pain, all my tears and all the hard work I’ve put in to make me one of the best drivers on track. You have no idea how much I’ve suffered and you think you get to judge me? You think you can tell me how I should act, when you have never been in my place? You have no idea the pressure, the stress I have to go through… and yet you think you can judge me?!?” Charles answers you with holding his head between his hands, eyes open in shock and frustration.

Maybe he is right, you don’t really know it, but still you think he is not right. And he still thinks you’re being unreasonable.

“You know what Charles is fine! You win, you're right I'm the bitch here, I'm the one who's wrong...this (pointing the space between you two) isn't working. I was right that we should keep our distance from each other.” It’s all you have to say at that. There is no argument anymore, neither of you is willing to let go of whatever is holding you back from each other. And he has a point.

“And there you go again! Trying to run away. You just want the fun and games… and then when someone gets hurt or gets too close to your emotions, you blame them for having feelings. Well, you’re not gonna run away that easily from me. I want you to admit that you care.”. Charles says stepping closer to you.

“For the love of god! when did I say I didn't care! I do, and that's the problem!.” you answer him looking into his eyes. And he is taken by surprise. You do care, and he does too.

“Okay, then show it to me! Show you care for me! You wanted me to show I cared and here I am. So now is your chance, show you care. Don’t just say it, don’t run. Show you care.” He says grabbing you by the wrist preventing you from move away, which you try, but he wont let you.

You feel so expose, he is looking into your soul now.

“Tell me the truth. Am I just a toy for you? Because if it’s just about the fun times, I can leave you right here and never talk to you again… Answer me” Charles is slowly disarming you.

"No, you're not..." your words bearly audible.

He moves even closer until his lips are just a few inches from yours. All his anger has subsided and now he looks at you with fiery eyes “Then why do you push me away... Why?”.

You smile and look down. “The same reason you did it. Because I thought you didn't want any more than sex with me.” I whisper.

“So we’re both cowards, huh?” he says looking at his feet.

"We're both proud assholes..." you admit.

“Then we should stop being so proud. What do you say?” Charles finally says as he slowly leans in and kisses you.

You just respond with another kiss, this one it’s deeper. Hands everywhere. Things start getting out of control rapidly.

“We should stop. You have to go back” you say between kisses. Snapping both of you out of the frenzy.

“Right!” he says stepping back and covering his mouth trying to control himself.

“We have a three-week break, we should take this time to think.” You look at him trying to figurated what he is thinking.

“Or…” he comes back with answer “I can visit London, you know for my vacation, and if you happened to be there, then…” he comes closer “...we can hang out”

You nod taking his suggestion. “Right ok…sounds like a plan.”

"All right then firecracker...I'll text you ok," he says resting his forehead on yours.

It takes more than a few minutes for you two to say goodbye.

The 3 weeks break ahead is looking pretty good.

Now that they got their mind straight how will this relationship develop? Will it develop? How will they manage to keep all the balls in the air? Will passion and romance betray the secrecy of what they have? There is a whole lot of things to deal with.

Let me know what you think, please.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles lecler / older woman #charles leclerc/you #reverse age gap #reverse age gap relationship #older woman/younger man #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #ferro rosso

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slusheeduck · 4 months

Text

Side-tracked

“We’ll be back in just a bit,” Falerin assured from the doorway as Astarion stood outside in the hallway, pouting up a storm. “Then we can figure out how to get ahead of that Bhaalist.”

“Don’t have too much fun, lovebirds!” Karlach called back as Falerin closed the door. He leaned against it for a moment, letting out a breath, then looked over at Astarion. The vampire was glaring daggers at him; it’d probably be more literal if they weren’t together.

“I can’t believe you,” he hissed. “It’s one thing to get tied up in a murder investigation—don’t think I haven’t seen the mysteries you’ve tucked away—but offering to do the Fists’ gruntwork? Gods, it’s like I don’t even know you. I’ve half a mind to…”

“Shh.” Falerin quickly grabbed Astarion’s arms, leaning in until he was nose-to-nose with him. “Listen. I’m having the others stay here because I have a plan, and you’re the only one who can do it with me.”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

Falerin dug in his pocket, then pulled out the list of names. “If we want to get into the Temple of Bhaal without fuss, we need to impress the Tribunal. And we need proof. So…” Falerin swallowed. “We’re going to take out two people on this list.”

Astarion’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across his face before he fanned himself. “Oh, my love, are you saying you’d kill for me?”

Falerin made a face. “In a sense? Look, I’m not…I don’t like the idea of murdering innocents. So if we can…can vet them?”

Astarion took the list, looking almost gleeful. “It’s Baldur’s Gate, darling. I guarantee everyone on this list is either an insufferable bastard everyone wishes was dead, or someone who’s so pathetic and at the end of their rope they’ll want to be put out of their misery. We’re doing a service, Fal.” He read it over. “Ah, I know this house—the Highberrys, right next door. Well-to-do, probably awful. We’ll slip in and make it quick.”

The house was indeed right next door, and there seemed to be a big to-do out in the courtyard of it. It gave the two of them an excellent opportunity to slip around to the back entrance. Astarion led the way, hopping easily over the gate and already pulling out his lockpick. Falerin shifted back and forth, glancing around nervously. He turned, worried, as Astarion scoffed around the spare pick in his mouth.

“It’s not even locked,” he whispered over his shoulder. “People this careless deserve what’s coming for them.” He stood up, waiting for Falerin to hop the fence to join him, then he took a hold of his arms. “Darling, look at me.” After a moment, Falerin did. “I’ll take the lead here. It’ll be quick and…mostly painless. Remember, it’s for the greater good. And don’t forget to cover your face on the way out.”

Falerin took a deep breath and nodded. For the greater good. And clearly the Highberrys were rich, so…so they were probably bad. Probably.

He kept close to Astarion as the vampire opened the door, slow and silent. They slipped in, quiet as the grave, only to suddenly be face-to-face with a child. They stared at him. The child stared back. Falerin just barely caught sight of Astarion’s arm start to move, and he gripped his elbow hard.

“Ow! Bastard,” he hissed back through his teeth.

“You’re not about to…” Falerin raised his eyebrows. “…a child, are you?”

“Obviously not, you complete lunatic. I was just…”

“Timmy? Where’ve you gone?” Another child’s voice rang out, with footsteps thumping down the stairs. A little girl joined the staring.

“Well…shit,” Astarion muttered.

“Oh! Are you here for the wine thingy?” the girl asked, suddenly brightening. “Cora said some people might come round this way. You’ve just got to go to the front door.”

Suddenly, Astarion turned on his charm. “Oh, yes.” He twisted around to slide an arm through Falerin’s. “Darling, I told you it was where all those people were. Silly thing you are, thinking it’d be inside on such a lovely day.”

Falerin blinked stupidly. “Oh…right.”

The boy, Timmy, wiped his nose on his sleeve. “What were you whispering about earlier?”

Falerin glanced down at him. “Oh, I, uh…I was just telling my…my husband that I was sure we were going the right way.” He sounded nowhere near as nonchalant as Astarion; luckily, you didn’t have to be very convincing to children.

Astarion, meanwhile, glanced over curiously at “husband”, but he patted Falerin’s arm with a trilling laugh. “As if I didn’t know how Cora worked! Honestly.” He looked between the two children. “I…don’t recall you two being around before?”

��We’re orphans,” Timmy said. “Well, Molly says her dad’s comin’ back. Mum’s not, though.”

Falerin’s eyes went wide, and his head jerked over to look at Astarion. Orphans? he mouthed, face caught somewhere between distraught and disbelieving.

“Cora’s taking care of us,” Molly said, swinging against the railing idly. “She takes in all the kids who don’t have a place to go. She’s really nice.”

“She gives really good hugs,” Timmy added. “And she makes a really good pot roast.”

“Oh, she gives really good hugs, does she?” Falerin repeated through his teeth, voice tight, still staring at Astarion incredulously.

Astarion pressed his lips together tightly, then gave another laugh. “Of course she does,” he said with a toss of his head. “I could have told you that, my love. Come along, let’s go join the others.”

“Why do old people like wine, anyway?” Timmy said to Molly as they made their way to the front door.

“Dunno. But they’re going to be getting so much money for those refugee tieflings. Maybe some of the kids round town will join us!”

Once they were by the front door, Falerin stopped and shook his head. “I can’t do it, Astarion. I can’t fucking do it. They’re…she takes care of orphans. Orphans!” he whispered sharply.

“Maybe…maybe they’re being fattened up for ritualistic sacrifice?” Astarion suggested with a shrug. At Falerin’s look, he sighed. “Okay, okay! Fine! We won’t kill her.” He puffed at a curl as he opened the door. “Look, even I draw the line at orphans and widows. Now, anyway. But I expect a glass of wine for my trouble. Who’s next on the…oh, hello. Recognize that armor?”

He pointed over the head of a few wine tasters, where two halflings were chatting with a dwarf in red armor. Very red armor.

“Oh shit!” Falerin quickly shoved his way past a few partygoers. “Move, move!” Never mind the fact that they’d come in with every intent to murder Cora; he wasn’t about to let Dolor get another one on his watch.

The interruption went about as well as expected: changelings all over the damn place, a proper mess of a fight, and Dolor slipping away. But they came out on the other side all right, and Falerin peeked inside the house to make sure that Cora (and the orphans) had made it out alive. The halfling woman shook her head as he and Astarion approached.

“I can’t believe what that…that man was planning to do to me,” she whispered, then looked up at them. “Thank you for saving me.”

From the doorway, her husband came over. “It’s not much, but it’s the least we can do to thank you for what you’ve done.” He held out an almost comically large bag of gold, passing it off to Astarion. The vampire’s eyes were wide, and for once, he looked lost for words.

“It’s…it’s not a problem,” Falerin said, giving a little smile to them. “We’re just glad we were here in time.” He set his hand on Astarion’s back, guiding him out. “Stay in tonight! We’ll get things sorted soon enough!”

As they walked out of the courtyard, Astarion’s tongue finally unfroze. “This must be close to a thousand gold,” he whispered.

“We’ve gotten gold for helping people before.”

“We’ve gotten pittances. Is this what all rich people offer when you save their lives?” He nodded at Falerin. “Who’s next on the list?”

Fal pulled out the paper, looking it over. “Ah…Figaro Pennygood.”

“Oh, well, our red dwarf can’t kill him; he’s the best tailor in the city.” Astarion’s brows drew together. “Let’s go get the others and make our way there. I know a shortcut; we should be able to get to him in time.”

Fal gave a little smile. “Astarion, are you saying you’re giving up your life of crime to help people?”

“Gods, no. But if this…” He held up the bag of gold. “…is what philanthropists are willing to give us for saving their lives, with someone as famous and rich as the Facemaker? Darling, you and I could be looking at a free wardrobe for life.” He grinned, knocking his knuckles against Falerin’s chest before he headed back to the Elfsong. “Maybe he’ll even do our wedding, husband mine.”

Falerin snorted as he followed. “You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Not for a moment.”

Bonus Chapter

Casual Banter Master Post

#bg3 #bg3 fic #astarion #bg3 tav #falerin glais #Inspired by my BG3 sesh last night #Where once I got in Cora's house to murder her I saw 'Timmy the Ophan' and audibly went 'orphans?' in the most despondent voice

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hendolish · 9 months

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hendolish prompt - Jordan taking advantage of his new more relaxed schedule and planning a birthday surprise ahead of time/September SGP camp for Jack? Kind of a challenge, finding something to give the rich beautiful popular successful boy who already has everything, right? Prompt fill can involve the other England boys or not, writers' choice: personally I think either works, as Jordan always loves to watch Jack have fun and be silly with the lads outside of work, but also he wants Jack to himself to spoil and indulge and enjoy for a while (he doesn't get to do that much any more..). Also, not sure how Jordan is going to organise anything like an event or a big present, living so far away now? Still if there's a way, Hendo is the one to make it work and make it happen, especially if it makes Jack smile so pretty like the sun coming up. He'll move a mountain if that's what it takes.

jack grealish/jordan henderson | birthday surprise ♡

Jack’s birthday is coming up soon.

Jordan knows because it’s been popping up on his phone as a reminder and he swore he’d never forget it to the younger. The only problem is that it’s kind of a challenge, finding something to give a rich, beautiful, popular, successful footballer who already has everything, on top of the world falling at his feet.

But an idea had finally sprung into Jordan’s mind one night after FaceTiming Jack, when he’d seen the reluctance to end their time together shimmering in the younger’s eyes.

They don’t get much of that together anymore. Time.

Yes, there’s hurried calls and sweet messages exchanged between the games and training and physio, but it’s never enough and Jordan is sure his boyfriend feels the same.

So it hadn’t taken much time at all for Jordan to begin masterminding a trip to Manchester for himself to surprise Jack with a week to spend together leading up to his special day.

It’d been a lot of work, especially at short notice, to wheedle a few days off from the gaffer. Still if there was a way, Jordan was determined to make it work and make it happen, especially if it makes a smile bloom on Jack’s face like a beautiful sunrise. He'll move a mountain if that's what it takes.

So that’s how Jordan finds himself here, in Jack’s apartment in Manchester near City’s training ground.

He has a key so it wasn’t too hard to get in. The doormen remembered him because it certainly isn’t his first time visiting and even congratulated him on his move to Saudi.

Jordan’s even managed to loop John into the plan, who he’s given strict instructions to offer a lift to Jack after training so that he’ll text him when Jack’s leaving and then when he’s making his way upstairs.

Stonesy: Leaving now

Stonesy: He doesn’t seem to think anything’s off even though I live in the opposite direction

That causes Jordan to smile to himself amidst the butterflies fluttering against his insides.

He paces in the living room and checks his hair in the mirror for about the a thousandth time. Jordan doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. It’s just Jack, they’ve been together for over a year and he’s never felt more comfortable with anyone in his life. Yet his heart still feels like it’s working hard to escape his rib cage.

Jordan returns to pacing back and forth until he hears the click of the front door opening. He jumps as he scrambles for his phone from his pocket, belatedly noticing the ‘Here. Enjoy yourself lad.’ text he’d received from John, followed by a plethora of inappropriate emojis.

Jordan freezes then, as he listens to Jack’s footsteps patter down the hall, immediately forgetting everything he’d wanted to say or do. He can only stand, frozen in the middle of the room, as Jack’s humming of ‘Empire State of Mind’ eases closer towards him, and Jordan can’t help but grin and wonder if John had been trying to give him hints on the way over by playing some Alicia Keys.

But before Jordan can even think of something to do or say, Jack rounds the corner into the living room and whatever was clutched in his hands soon falls to the floor with a ‘thud’ against the carpet as Jordan watches his jaw drop open.

There’s a beat of silence as Jack’s eyes roam over his face, absorbing the fact that Jordan is in front of him, in his apartment, and then, “…no way.”

Jordan only gets about two seconds more before the younger is barrelling into him with so much might that it lands the two of them on the couch behind him, knocking the wind out of Jordan. But how could he ever care now that Jack is on top of him again, kissing the absolute shit out of him?

“Hendo,” Jack breathes against his lips, barely taking the time to pull away before he’s chasing Jordan’s mouth again like he can’t get enough and is making up for all their lost time, “Fuckin’ missed you.”

A warm sensation unfurls in Jordan’s belly as Jack cups the sides of his face ever so gently, eyes still traipsing up and down like he can’t quite believe Jordan’s actually here.

And all that Jordan can think to himself is I love you so much. So he tells him and seals it with another kiss, long and slow so that Jack can feel how much he missed him too.

♡

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lampmanliveblogs · 8 months

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It’s time for more Owl House! At the time of writing this, I don’t know when this is going to be uploaded, so I’ll tell Future Lampman to make a note below.

Now, where were we? Ah, right, Luz ain’t doing so well. The loss suffered at the Day of Unity weighs heavily on her and she blames herself for them. Camila assures her that no one hates her, although I’m not sure Luz is entirely convinced of that yet. But we can work on that later. For now, this was a sweet, wholesome scene. A bit of hope in the dark. You love to see it.

(Future Lampman here: This took WAY too long.)

Ah, now this? You hate to see it.

So, like… they’re totally going to notice the three or so complete skeletons lying right next to the house, right? Right?

This? You love to see it.

I could make fun of Hunter’s outfit, but I won’t. Partially because it’d be kinda mean and I may or may not have been tipped off that Hunter does not have much fun in this episode as is. But secondly, it’d be kinda rich for me to criticize someone else’s choice in fashion considering that as I’m writing this, I’m wearing a shopping cart-themed pajamas, with matching socks and underwear.

As the camera pans from Hunter’s feet and up, we can see Flapjack looking proud of Hunter, it’s so funny and adorable. Like, yeah! My witch/human/clone boy did this!

And, I mean, it is Halloween. He could just go out in public like this and at worst, some people will bug him about telling them how he got his elf ears to look that realistic.

In fact, this could be an opportunity for all the witch kids to let out their ears for a change. With some cartoon logic, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that dangerous. Unless they run across someone who’s very paranoid and convinced witches are trying to steal his teeth.

Someone pointed out that I missed Gus implying he knew Hunter’s a grimwalker earlier. Since he accidentally hit ctrl+c on Philip’s traumatic memories, including the whole grimwalker affair.

Here’s the thing: …yeah, I just missed it. Never said I was perfect.

Not that it really matters, because here we have this scene that was far less subtle. Gus pretty much said it out loud.

Now, Hunter’s origin being brought up repeatedly in this episode so far makes me think this might become an important point of conflict throughout this episode (possibly going into the next two) with him not wanting to tell the others.

Who’d have thought, at the very beginning of the series when we first met her, that Willow would ever be this smooth? Half-a-witch Willow they called her, pah! Tripping Hazard Willow is what they should have called her, the way she got Hunter falling for her.

Although, ah… they’re leaving Hunter alone. And Philip’s been skulking around the woods… I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

And here we go. Incoming disaster in three, two, one…

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #toh s3e1 #thanks to them

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