#i started writing a fic

[darlingeames]

reblog for sample size!

[yeehawpim]

a comic about fix-it fanfics

[eridan-ampora]

i love it when characters are codependent. i love it when losing someone feels like losing a limb. i love it when two people "complete" each other so wholly and terribly that one can barely function without the other. i love it when the fear of losing the only person who understands them is so all-consuming they'll destroy anything to stay together, including themselves.

[crispyliza]

Fanfiction in the late 2000s-early 2010s was wild bc you'd find a beautifully written story with the most compelling heart-wrenching plot you've ever seen and the author's note would be like:

Author with a username like ~SasukesWaifuxD~ : Ohayo gozaimasu! ↖(^▽^)↗, I'm sowwy it took me so long to update (๑•́_•̀๑)

tsundere twink from their fic : It was about damn time you idiot (눈‸눈)

~SasukesWaifuxD~ : Hey now! It's not my fault the plot bunnies kept wunning away fwom me (╥﹏╥)

tsundere twink: W-watever, it's not like I missed you or anything (💢,,>﹏<,,) b-baka!

[rosesaints]

being one-sided academic rivals with yuuta who doesn't understand why you're constantly glaring at him in the hallways, who doesn't even have to turn around to see that you're directing your fury at him after another close race with your grades. you're pissed, because it doesn't even seem like he knows he's the bane of your existence despite how thinly veiled your (supposed) hatred is, and the icing on top of the cake is how he goes out of his way to treat you like one of his old friends.

you catch him staring at you a lot with that genuine look you've grown accustomed to seeing. he waves at you in the halls, turns around and sends you a warm, sincere smile when grades are passed back even though you're on the verge of tearing your professor apart. and he always, always asks if you'd like to study or take notes together.

you swore you would never study with the enemy, and yet you end up at the library every thursday night anyway, pressing yuuta up against the stacks to hear his delighted little gasps and whimpers as you suck at the smooth, unblemished skin of his neck, whispering how much you want to destroy him, how much you wanna see him fail and it's like he wants to drown in you, lovestruck and nodding along to your harsh words with stars in his eyes.

"yes, yes, of course," yuuta sighs breathlessly as you pepper him with more kisses that are starting to drift even lower, wondering if maybe after this, you'd finally let him take you out on a date.

read the completed work inspired by this drabble!

[clairenatural]

Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

[morganbritton132]

I want a fic where Robin is adopted.

The only parents she has ever known are her own and the only time being adopted has ever bothered her was when Amanda St. James made fun of her for it in the third grade. But Robin told her that at least her parents wanted her and were not just stuck with her like Amanda’s parents, “And maybe that’s why your Mom and Dad are so unhappy all the time.”

She got in trouble for making Amanda cry and went back to never thinking about her birthparents. She had no interest in knowing anything about them and it stayed like that until she turned sixteen.

On her sixteenth birthday, her mom gave her a letter written to her by her birthmother. Robin doesn’t read it immediately, but eventually gives in to her own curiosity. She reads it over twice before her mind snags on a sentence, ‘I wanted to give you and your brother a better life…’ … you and your brother…. You and your brother…. You and-

“I have a brother.”

This eats at Robin, especially after her dad’s call to the adoption agency goes nowhere. It eats at her so much that she finally gives in – Fred Benson swears up and down that Nancy Wheeler is the best investigator on the school paper – and asks for help.

Nancy says yes and is maybe a little too invested in finding the truth, but honestly, Robin is having fun and she wants to find her apparent twin. She wants to know about his life. Settle the whole nurture over nature thing.

They hit a lot of walls, a lot of dead ends. They break a few rules and maybe commit a felony. They enlist Jonathan Byers to help and even Eddie Munson at one point because he knows how to pick locks, and it’s all for nothing.

One day when they have everything they’ve found spread out across the Wheeler’s dining room table, Steve comes over to pick up Dustin. He looks down at the whole mess and points at her birth certificate like, “Hey, we were born on the same day.” 

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

[lovealwayssay]

I would pay an ungodly amount of money for a Supernatural finale where Dean rescues Cas from the Empty and tells him he loves him too, Eileen comes back to be with Sam, and Jack chooses to live with the four of them in the bunker as a happy family.

[ao3commentoftheday]

I'm going to start this post off by saying that I write fic, and I know the pain of putting something out there and not getting a response. It sucks and it hurts and it puts a dent in my self-confidence. If I have the choice between posting a work on AO3 and getting only comments or posting a work on AO3 and getting only kudos, I'll probably choose comments let's say 8 times out of 10.

But with that in mind, posts that attempt to shame or guilt readers into commenting don't actually work.

Negative reinforcement (in the form of shame, guilt, or other worse emotions) doesn't make anyone want to do the thing. It just makes them want to avoid the guilt, etc. Rather than encouraging someone to talk to you about your writing, you're making that person want to avoid you so that they don't have to feel bad. That's just human nature.

I've said before that I think a lot of writers are looking for community rather than comments, and I still think that's true. The reason I love both writing and receiving comments is because it makes me feel like I've made a connection with someone. I may never know their real name or what they look like or where they live or anything else but what fandom we have in common, but we've reached out to each other in this text-based medium and we've shared words that made each other feel something.

I know that these posts are written out of frustration or loneliness or needing support or a hundred other reasons I could list off the top of my head. But when I read "you should be grateful for the things I give you and show me proper appreciation" it just reminds me of my parents telling me to clean my room or to follow the rules while I live under their roof.

It's so much more vulnerable to admit, "I don't know if this story is any good and I really wish someone would reassure me right now."

It's much harder to say, "I feel so alone in this fandom, and I want to make friends with someone."

It's difficult to admit, "I worked so hard on this for so long and I'm so tired, but if someone out there likes it then all of that effort will be worthwhile - and if no one says anything, then I'll feel like my effort was wasted."

I'm not trying to shame the people who made those posts, and if that's how this comes across then I'm sorry. I'm just trying to explain why I think those posts will harm more than they help.

I also hope that any readers who see this post will understand that those writers are just people who are feeling a lot of different ways, and they're venting their frustrations. I've been there. I've reblogged those posts before when I was feeling frustrated like that too.

If you're able to comment, those comments are appreciated. If you're not able to comment (for whatever reason), that's okay too. ❤️

[honnelander]

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 

Sanji. Ugh.  

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 

You were hopeless. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 

“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 

Did Sanji just say he loved you? 

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 

You sighed.  

Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 

[steveseddie]

hot stuff

@steddiemicrofic prompt: stuff, 483 words rated: t | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, he blurts it out while helping eddie pack to move to his new trailer

***

Steve shoves another DnD handbook into one of the boxes scattered around Eddie’s room. “Dude, why do you have so much stuff?”

Across the room, Eddie snorts. “Excuse me for wanting my bedroom to have some personality, Mr. Plaid-Wallpaper.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting away some sketchbooks next. His eyes catch something else on Eddie’s desk. “This doesn’t match your personality. You hate sports,” Steve bitches, one hand on his hip, the other holding the basketball.

“Oh, that’s not mine.” Eddie smirks. “I stole it from some jocks.”

“You stole- a basketball?”

The smirk turns into a grin. “Assholes thought it’d be funny to hit the freak, so when they did, I grabbed it and ran like hell.”

A startled laugh leaves Steve’s lips when he pictures Eddie fleeing with a basketball in his arms, flipping off the assholes that he stole it from.

Then he frowns.

“I wasn’t one of them, right?” He doesn’t remember it, but he tries not to think about that time too much.

Eddie’s eyes soften. “No, Stevie. You were never a dick to me, we never really crossed paths.”

“I wish we had,” Steve says. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. Since meeting Eddie, he often wishes it happened sooner.

“You really think we would’ve been friends? The King and the Freak?”

“We’re friends now,” Steve shrugs.

“After a damn apocalypse! Besides, you’re different now. King Steve wouldn’t be caught dead with me. I was a loser.”

Steve sniggers. “Was?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie squawks, throwing some socks at Steve’s head- and missing.

Steve throws them back, hitting him on the forehead. “You’re supposed to be packing those!”

Eddie sticks his tongue out. “What I meant is- I looked like a loser.”

Steve thinks of the photo he packed earlier while helping pack Wayne’s things- the one of Eddie with a buzz cut, drowning in Wayne’s hand-me-downs, no tattoos or rings. So different from the guy in front of him.

“Now though, I look cool,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows.

“Nah, man. Now you look hot,” Steve blurts out.

He panics when Eddie’s jaw drops and he gapes at Steve, but he doesn’t look upset, just shocked- and a little hopeful.

The door opens then and Robin pops her head in, glaring at the empty boxes. “You dinguses aren’t done yet? We finished packing all of Wayne’s mugs and there’s dozens of them! I’m getting Nance!” She huffs and leaves.

Steve grimaces. “We should get to work before Nancy comes. But, um, wanna ditch the girls after and hang out?”

When Eddie shakes his head, Steve backtracks. “Unless you don’t want-”

Eddie shakes his head even harder at that. “Like fuck if I don’t.” He grins. “Get to work, big boy, then you can tell me how hot you find me and we can kiss about it.”

They finish packing everything in record time after that.

[stargirlo]

whatever she wants ♡.

your boyfie luvs spoiling you with his money! and he doesn't care if he maxes out his credit card just by spending money on the stuff that you want to buy. he just wants to see his pretty girl happy, that's all. his love language is gift giving, so why not show his love to you by showering you with designer bags and red bottoms?

you're always whining about how he shouldn't give you this many stuff, even if it wasn't a special occasion. but he insists, who is going to stop him?

need your nails done? check, appointment is already made. you're craving oysters? the reservation is booked. want to be on the highest floor of a five-star hotel in singapore? prepare for the breathtaking view baby. your birkin bag is getting old? the order is at your doorstep. need a new tiffany and co bracelet? get in the car and lets buy you a new one.

honestly he knows every clothing brand that you like because he has a list of your wants and needs. whenever you say something like "this sundress is cute." or "these tory burch sandals would go with this, yeah?" he would instantly take note of it and buy it for you the next day. this man is tiring, but you absolutely adore him. not because of his money, but because of the way he treats you.

he treats you with full on royalty, as if you were his queen, in which, you already are. so, you can't help but give him your thanks to him for doing all these things.

"f-fuck baby, is this your thanks f'me..?" he dryly chuckles, slenders fingers slipping through your well styled hair, to which it was ruined by how tight he's gripping your fucking scalp. ouchie.

you nodded eagerly, sucking him off like your life depended on it. moans vibrated against his cock, letting his body jolt in absolute pleasure. he threw his head back, letting you have your way on his cock as it snuggles deep down your warm and tight throat. he can't help but buck his hips upwards into your throat, a stifled moan bubbling through his gritted teeth. a sweat rolls down his forehead, eyebrows knit together as he looks down at the gorgeous view of you being between his legs and sucking his cock to oblivion.

"ye'r such a slut y'know t-that . . . shit-" he hissed in pleasure, inhaling sharply before letting out a groan. your thighs rubbed together, trying to reach out for some friction for yourself while you gave your precious boyfriend a blow job. he lets out a string of curses and praises, murmuring something about how he's going to ruin your pussy after this, and it only turned you on further, feeling a wet patch on your victoria secret thong.

suddenly, you withdrew from his cock, watching a thin string of spit connect from his cock and to your glossy lips. you looked up at him teary-eyed, your plump lips turning into a small "o" shape as you let out shallow breaths. "what's wrong baby? dick t'much to take down ye'r throat?" he mocks, looking down at you with a sneer. how mean.

" 's okay sugar, daddy's gotcha . . . now c'mere," he pants, his pointer and ring finger beckoning you to crawl up his lap, and so you did. as you got yourself situated and comfortable on his lap, his cock occasionally rubbing against your soaked panties that was desperate to be fucked like a useless glory hole. his hands move under your skirt, pulling down the thong away as it revealed your hungry pussy to his eyes. it was glistening with your slick, and he was definitely going to have a field day with this slip 'n slide.

"you're so wet f'me, and all jus' by suckin' my dick." he chuckles, gripping your hips firmly and lifting it up with a subtle movement, just enough to feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your puffy 'n needy clit. you let out a short gasp, taking a hold on his shoulders as you looked down at the lewd scenery below you. "aht, aht sugar . . . look at me," he gently slaps your ass, bringing back your attention to him and looking at him directly. he murmurs a low "thereee we go." before sliding you down his cock, a high-pitched yelp eliciting from your lips.

his cock slides in further, deeper and deeper until you feel his cock fill you up to the hilt. you're now basically cockdrunk, and he hasn't done anything to make you be in this position yet. you babbled how he's "too big" and that "you're full" but he could only watch in awe. "shh, shh, look how soaked your pussy is . . . look at how easy it just slides in, aand out." he huffs, moving your hips with ease as the base of his cock slips in and out of your pussy, erupting a lewd squelch.

"now c'mon baby, show me how really thankful you are f'me . . ." his hands now let go of your hips, making you fully sit down on his cock as your pussy warms it up. your lips tug a small pout, his hands being placed behind his head as he raised a brow. his expression already spoke volumes on what he was going to say, so you tried your best to lift up your shaky hips and thighs as you worked your way into riding his cock.

let's just say he had to do most of the work later on :(

💌: gojo satoru, geto suguru, hiromi higuruma, chuuya nakahara, haitani brothers, sanzu haruchiyo, manjiro sano, shuji hanma, wakasa imaushi, rafe cameron, ++ your favs!!

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”

[blowjob-horseguy]

Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.

Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.

Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.

He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.

He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.

"You are awake" said the man.

His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.

A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.

This is no man; this is a Merrow!

Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.

When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.

The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.

Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.

and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.

"Speak" The merrow demanded

"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Back to my ship."

"You will attack me."

"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."

The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.

"All men lie."

"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.

While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.

While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.

The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.

"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."

"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.

Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.

Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.

It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.

Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.

The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.

"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."

The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.

Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.

He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.

Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.

"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.

"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."

How long had Steve been unconscious?

"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.

The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.

"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.

Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."

The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.

"You don't remember?" it asked

Steve shook his head.

"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.

Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.

"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook its head.

"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."

Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!

But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.

"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.

Rude.

"My head hurts"

The creature cocked its head to one side.

"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"

"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"

Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.

"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.

"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.

The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.

Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.

Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.

Steve flinched away from the splash.

"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.

Steve held both his hands closer to his body.

"Why?"

The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.

Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.

And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.

The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.

It was seaweed.

"Wh-"

"Eat it."

Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.

"Raw?!"

"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."

Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.

"Is it medicinal in some way?"

"It is food."

"Ah."

The merrow starred at him expectingly.

Steve starred right back.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"Then your head will continue to ache."

"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."

"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."

Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.

"So you can drown me?"

The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.

"So I can heal you"

He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.

The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.

The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.

He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.

He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.

"You had a bump on your head."

"Had?"

"I rid you of it."

Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.

He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.

"Thank you." He said.

The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.

He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.

It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.

Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.

Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.

"So you will not run away." it explained.

"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."

"I cannot take that chance."

"How long will you keep me here then?"

The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.

"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.

"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.

The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.

"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."

"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.

"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.

"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"

The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.

"What is your name?" the merrow asked.

"What?" Steve replied

"What is your name?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?

"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.

"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."

"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."

"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.

"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.

The creature rolled its eyes again.

"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"

Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?

"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"

"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"

"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.

The creature quickly disappeared into the water.

Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.

Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.

He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.

The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.

Steve smiled.

"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked

"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"

.....

Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.

He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.

He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.

Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.

It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.

"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.

Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.

"I'm drying them."

"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."

Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.

"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked

The merrow eyed him oddly.

"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.

"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."

The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!

"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.

So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.

"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.

Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.

Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Do you have a name?"

The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.

"I was called Edward once."

"Once?"

"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.

"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.

"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.

Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.

"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."

Edward raised his eyebrows at that.

"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."

Steve breathed out a small laugh.

"I wasn't lying."

"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.

It doesn't believe him, not entirely.

No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.

When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.

It frowned at him.

"You are sharing with me?"

"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.

It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.

"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.

"The bladder you had around your belt?"

Steve nodded.

"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.

"How long was I unconscious?"

The merrow frowned at his food.

"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."

That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.

"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.

"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."

Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.

"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.

Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.

When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.

"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.

Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.

"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.

"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.

"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.

"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.

It is a strange and confusing creature.

Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.

[mrghostrat]

Though he’d promised Aziraphale his attention, his head was turned towards a screen on his right, and the angle of his camera suggested the phone was tucked at the base of his keyboard and monitor. Aziraphale was actually grateful for it; Crowley’s momentary distractedness gave him the time to recover from the sight of him dressed up so professionally. “I, er— yes. I need your help though.” Crowley turned to him suddenly, leaning in close and grinning like a shared secret. Big Name Feelings • 3. Speeding Up

i am so at peace. 5 hrs totally zenned out on these colours. i'm gonna see his face in my dreams 🥰