“hey, hailey. i know you don't read these, but i still love you.” - © 2015 inkyveins

"I fucking hate you." "You shouldn't really say things like that when my dick is up your ass, Norris." Two hot-headed athletes with overflowing rage and unwinding sex drive is very much never a good combo. Bryce and Ian never see eye to eye on things. Despite being caged in the same group of friends in the same swimming team of the - yes, you guessed it - same high school, the star swimmers of Norton High hadn't exactly made good first impressions to each other on the ill-fated day they met, and let's just say things spiraled horribly from there. The two rage-fueled boys always thought that they're in this feud for the long haul until one argument escalated into something that at no point in any of their lives would they allow to happen if only they did not get a little too out of control. Sex. There's a thin line between love and hate, and Bryce and Ian's barrier just keeps getting thinner and thinner. A.K.A. Bryce and Ian were fuckbuddies... up until they weren't. Status: Editing #1 in wattpride (10/03/20) #1 in bl (10/09/20) #1 in lgbtq (08/02/21) #1 in writtenwithpride (12/26/21)

༄ Dream is the lead guitarist in a band, George is just a boy who happens to be the one Dream falls for. Little does George know this isn't the first time he's ever encountered the man he will slowly come to love. - tws/cws at the start of each chapter !! :) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED please ask for permission before attempting to repost/ use/ make new works/ with any content from this book. please contact me to discuss further through tiktok - @amymayfarrell_ instagram - @amymayfarrell

Falsely arrested for the murder of his best friend, was enough to make George the most miserable man in the world. He wasn't built for life in prison, and ending up in one of the most dangerous prisons in L'manburg wasn't too good either. He was, admittedly, one of the closest things to a girl in this prison and was the target of some unwanted attention. With no strength or experience on his side, he will have to find a way to survive. __________________________________________ Includes fluff, angst, SA, and talks of suicide. For the last two may not remember to label the chapters they are on

[DNF Prison!AU] "New roomie, how great." The man spoke with deep sarcasm, voice rough as if unused. "Haven't had one in a while." He stood up, easily towering over George. He was built, definitely very strong, but didn't look too bulky. His face was as serious as was his voice and posture. If this guy decided to rock his shit, George knew he was screwed. He greatly hesitated before asking, but then decided it's in his best interest to get to know his new cellmate. "W-why, what happened to the last one?" He tried his best to sound casual and absolutely not frightened to death, but his voice came out a little choked up. "Well, let's just say we had our disagreements." Oh. "Wait, they let you change cellmates?" "Why, you trynna run off already?" He felt his heart drop, even after realizing this was probably this guy's idea of a joke. George wasn't sure if he should laugh it off or remain quiet. "'Course they don't. What do you think this is, summer camp?" or DNF Prison!AU where George needs help chasing off what seems to be every horny bastard in the prison and he ends up accidentally roping his new cellmate into helping him.

"What are you gonna do? Call for help and cry?" He cooed. "Shut the fuck up!" Damsel shoved him away, only to be slammed back against the wall again. "I'm a damsel in distress! Help! Help! Where's my Knight in shining Armour!" Darren mimicked a high-pitched girly voice as he held back his laughter, grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't help but lean down dangerously close to Damsel's face Smiling, causing the younger to scrunch up his nose in disgust in result. Sure, the boy was annoying, but the pure satisfaction of the reactions he could get from the younger set a bomb of butterflies to explode in Darren's stomach. "Darren I'm not in the mood- fuck off!" Damsel spat in his face, the spit landing on Darren's cheek. Blood was rushing to Damsel's head, as he desperately tried to calm down whilst being trapped between the muscled arms resting on the wall behind him. He was flustered to say the least as his heart beat started thumping ever so loudly, Darren's nose just inches away from his. Darren could only scoff as he wiped away the spit that landed on his cheek, flames boiling and evident in his eyes, yet he wasnt sure if it was anger, annoyance, or something else. He aggressively lifted damsel's gaze with a tight grip on the younger's chin. Dominance coated his next words as a smirk grew on Darren's face. "But your knight's right here princess, where are you gonna run off to?" -------------- Damsel prince and Darren Knight. Ironic, right? You wouldn't catch these two getting along even if they were locked up in a closet together; they'd just be trying to rip each-other's throats out. That's just how they were. They'd do any little thing to piss the other off, it didn't matter what, when, or how,they wanted a negative reaction out of the other and that was it. Enemies. Both alphas, both hot-headed, both with anger issues. And both hated eachother. They had far too many similarities. [x]

wilbur soot x fem reader (x technoblade alt ending) takes place in modified harry potter universe ft mcyt news of your blood status pulls you into an arranged marriage against your will, suddenly in a world you want nothing to do with. but maybe freedom isn't as sweet as you thought? i read the summary for the other boleyn girl and then i wrote this.

A world filled with magic, monster, and warriors. s̵̱̼̙͉͈͉͚̗͍̣͙̈̽̍͠ţ̷̧͉͈̟̬̦̩͔̯͓̺͍̗͑̉̀͂͛͒r̶̨̗̜̣͎̬̣̟̯̲̖̳͖̩͖͑̆̒͝a̵̢͈͚͇̳̠̍͂͛̂͗̔̆̋̅̋̈́͛̐͝n̷̡̛̤̼̮͉̘̝͔̥̥͕̼̰͚̏̓̌́̅̀͆͘̕͝ģ̶̢̠̜̪͎̺̠̥͕͒̀͋̽͌͂͊̿́͝ͅe̶̳̰̦̩͔͑̇̃̊̋̅̊̄̾͜͝͝.̷͉̣͇̝̤̞̳͇̫͔̼͑̒̂́̋̊̋̅̃͝͝ ̸̬̑͐̓̽́͛̉̽͠ Where the opportunities to create are endless. d̸̩̘̤̪̗̻̯̆̀̅̈́̌̈́̽̈̃̒͒̌̉͝͝e̸̮̰̱̗̳̦̭̟͒͑͋͒͋̔͑̋̎̔̽͗̕s̷̖̖͖̉̎̽̀̓͗͘͘ṭ̷̙̦͚̤̠̦̞͍͎̖̘͙̌̀̋̑̏̈́̄̎̍̍͜ͅr̴̛̬̳̼̯͍̦̤̪̗̮̹̱̙̃̋̎̓̌͛̈́̓͊́͆̆͝ǫ̶̨͈̭̼̲̲̅̀̊̋̀̐̾̽͘ÿ̷̧͖̺̟͇̜̗̗̱̱̲̪͚̉̅͜ The memories you make are unforgettable. ḑ̸̹̹̃̐͑̽͂̾̓́̌͋͘͜͝͝ę̷̱̪̠̪͈̩̫̟͚̜̤͕̹̅̍̊̆͂͒̊̒v̶̢̛̛͚͓͈͚͍̪͈̈͋̇̅̓̑̓̎̈́̂̑̚̚ͅo̵͚̪̤̹͐̓͗̌̈́͘͝͝ï̶͈̽̃̉͘d̴̡̢̧̝̭̻͈̺̟̜͇̖̼͑̾͐̇̇̍̏͐͌̀͜ͅ And your friendships unbreakable. f̵̧̛̺̖̤̮̻͕̝̗̝̞̙̲̔͑͑́̈́͒̎̇̒̈́ơ̸̡̪̻̬͖̻̔͑̈̀̑͋r̴̘͙̤̘̤͔͗͆̂͘͝g̴͖̜̟̟̠̞̹̪͖̲͛̋͌̅o̶̖͈̼͌̔̐̇͋͆̈́̓̈́̐͝t̵̡̨̮͔͇̹̻̀̈́͆͗͑̓t̶̬͓͎̩̞͕͚̝̋̈́̊̔̂̊̎̆̅ͅe̶̗̰̮̳͈̝̠͍͔̼͇̻̬̅͛͝͝ǹ̸̛̹͎͓̘̪̳͕̫̻̙̳̖̅̌̌́̿̈́̏̎̈̓͜͝ͅ It's a shame really... .̸̼̹̱́͝.̸̧̘͕͖̗͓̫͎͈̬̈̄̌.̵̡̛̛̙̼̥̼̼̬̤͙̑́͊̏̏̌̈́͛̾͘ That someone like you can't truly ever rest their eyes. ć̶̨͍̱̺͔̘͚͜r̷̙̞͙̠̰̹͇̈́̾̿̒̅͒̄͌͌̕͠͝u̷̡̥̫͕̱͉͚̥͋̈̏̇ȩ̸̗͇̯̦͈̥͈̳̹͚͓̏͂́̊́̿̅̊̐̊̀͆̕͜͝͝ḻ̸͔̝̄̕̕ (As the title says, this is a Fantasy AU. All I own is the plotline.)

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 4 --- Gladius, (noun): (in ancient Rome) a short sword. --- Eret perked up as soon as you and Simon walked into the room, a wide and welcoming smile coming onto his face. He was softer looking than his father had been, but you could still see some of the similar traits. He had a head of thick dark curls, and the same sharp jaw that his father had had. He wasn't as bulky though - he was tall and thin - and his face was a lot more open. What separated him most from his father's likeness though was the colorful cape, and the large mirrored glasses he wore - swirling with colors reflected from the room. He stood from his seat when Maven let the doors swing shut behind her, that wide smile still on his face. "You must be the embassy." "And you must be King Eret." You said, stooping into a bow. "Oh, there's no need for that." Eret said as you rose from your bow. He stepped down from the dias where his throne sat - colorful cape trailing behind him - and came to stand in front of you, taking your hand instead. "I'm not really one for formalities." He grinned, shaking your hand. His palm was warm against yours, and you could feel some slight callouses - most likely from practicing his sword work.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 3 --- Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]) is a Welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person. --- You were close enough that you could see the crew scurrying about on deck now. They looked as ragged as the ship - no sense of unity about them other than that they were all standing on deck together, swords brandished as you approached. You scanned over them and felt suddenly grateful for your sailing uniform - some of those pirates didn't even have shoes. Simon strode the deck, scanning through the ranks for the captain of the Ghost. You had been given some indication as to what she looked like, but when she parted herself from the ranks of her crew, you weren't quite ready for what she actually looked like. They didn't do her justice on the wanted posters back home. She was short, but powerfully built. You could see ram horns sticking out from underneath her extravagant hat, and her coat was a bright blood red - the gold trim faded somewhat. You were most focused on her hair though - pure white and absolutely massive, it looked like a cloud around her head. Stern eyes finished the look, and you couldn't help but be a little bit entranced - this was the kind of person that people were scared to make eye contact with. Simon didn't seem all that frightened when he came to stand on the edge of your own deck, facing her over the narrow strip of sea that separated you - and you were grateful. If you were captain, you didn't know if you would be able to look her in the eye.