#not usually my ship but i had to sail it for this prompt

[raynewolferune]

Alfred: both of my lovers were murdered in front of our son and I had to raise the grieving gremlin alone. I brought pop rocks.

The batfam trauma candy salad would go absolutely insane.

Dick: Hi. I'm Dick Grayson and when I was 8 I watched my parents fall to their death in front of me, then I had to move away from everything I love and spend the rest of my life in some weird American city. And I brought the sour gummy worms.

Jason: This is so stupid- my mother used to kick me out when he drug dealer would come over so I didn't see her spending our very small amount of money on drugs.

Steph *off screen*: what did you bring?

Jason: nerds.

Cass: I was raised to be a weapon, a murderer. I brought peach rings.

Steph: I'm Steph and My dad was an alcoholic who thought he could go head to head with batman and outdo the riddler. And I brought Reese's pieces.

Tim: I'm Timothy Drake Wayne and I had left the house to try and find some guy before he killed my dad, just for him to kill my dad when I was gone. I brought sour rainbow strips.

Duke: My parents are in a mental ward, high on joker toxin. No one knows if they'll ever get better. And I got m&m's.

Damian: I am a highly trained assassin and-

Steph: cut. Cut. Damian. Civilian identities. Ok. Restart.

Damian: My mother randomly dropped me on some weird man's doorstep when I was ten. I brought rock candy.

[fanaticsnail]

I fell asleep with spotify on and woke up to sea shanties. And in that honor:

Roronoa Zoro loves to drink. Everyone knows this. His high alcohol tolerance means he can usually keep himself in a pleasantly fuzzy state.

Still, there are times where he gets properly drunk. Absolutely blackout sloshed. And this poses the question of what to do with him? How to care for him?

That is, until Sanji joins the crew. See, the rest of the strawhats may be new to this sailing business, but not Sanji. Sanji was raised by pirates on the sea. Rowdy, fun loving, drink loving pirates. And he knows exactly what to do with a drunken sailor.

Snhsiwbehei this is so stupid. Just a silly thing that crossed my mind.

-♡♡ lots of love

Anything for you, ♡♡ Anon. What shall we do with the drunken sailor, indeed? I saw your ask about still thinking on the lazy sleeping Zoro. Thought I'd add a little more lazy swordsman in there for you.

Until The World Stops Spinning

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,000+

Synopsis: You have just come off watch-shift, just as Sanji wanders onto the top deck of the Going Merry. Both of you discuss what to do about Zoro's current state of inebriation. What shall we do with the drunken swordsman...

Themes: Zoro x reader, subtle sanji x reader, drunkenness, smoking, drinking, sleeping, written with the sea shanty "What shall we do with the drunken sailor" in mind.

Notes: I listen to shanties all the time when I write. It's seriously such a vibe. This anon comes up with the best prompts, and I seriously can't. Edit to add: That version above by The Irish Rovers is what I used to dance to when I did Irish dancing as a child. One of the old tunes that made me want to play violin.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @writingmysanity

Gulls singing their sweet song of the morning lingered in the air, the perch of several flocking members sat proudly atop the top mast of the Going Merry. The chef serving beneath the Straw-Hat captain wandered on the deck to enjoy his morning cigarette after setting aside the morning crepe batter to rise. What greeted him in the morning light was a sorry sight to behold.

The puddle of drool pooling from the corner of the sword wielding first mate’s mouth was indication enough that he was past the point of no return in his drunken stupor. His snore rattled and shook the top deck, the wood almost cracking beneath the intensity of the roar falling from his parted lips. 

Standing over the first mate, arms folded in twine, stood the Going Merry’s latest member: the ship's counselor. 

“Mornin’ chef,” you utter without turning away from the snoring first mate. Sanji pouted with a deep frown while placing the filter of his cigarette between his lips. 

“Good morning, counselor. Good watch shift?” Sanji uttered while striking his flint and lighting the end of his cigarette. You nod, both of you not tearing your eyes away from Zoro as the deep rise and fall of his chest indicated traces of life within his death-like slumber. 

“Not a single thing to report, aside from this thing here, of course,” you uttered, gently tapping your toes against Zoro’s thigh as he slept soundly. Sanji inhaled a lengthy breath of his morning nicotine, exhaling down at the swordsman with a soft scowl on his face. 

“How many'd he have?” Sanji asked tilting his head and examining Zoro as his shaky snore. 

“Around five or six, I think,” you bob your head before further clarifying, “Bottles, not short rounds.” Sanji clicked his tongue at the confirmation, gently shaking his head. 

You turn towards the blonde chef, furrowing your brows and looking at him inquisitively. 

“Chef?” you quirked up at him, prompting him to turn towards you in response, “You've probably had the most experience with inebriated sea-folk. Any quick remedies you can think of for this?”

“I can think of a few cures from the tales of old,” Sanji chuckled, his smile turning more playful with each passing moment. “Shave his belly with a rusty razor comes to mind.” You scoff at him, rolling your eyes with a soft chuckle. 

“Zoro's stomach is as smooth as a baby bird,” you laugh at him, “Not a hair to rid him of, rusty razor and all.” Sanji hummed, pressing his index finger to his chin and thinking further. 

“Put him in the longboat ‘til he's sober is the next classic suggestion,” Sanji took a moment to take a lengthy drag with a deep chuckle, “Or: stick him in the scupper with a hosepipe bottom, is another.”

“The Going Merry has no long boat,” you shrug, looking down at the snoring former pirate hunter and lulling your head to the side, “And I don't think he'd very much enjoy a swift spanking on the meat of his ass with a rubber pipe, in his current state.”

Sanji laughed in a loud and unbridled laugh, placing the cigarette on the ground and dulling it's light with the ball of his foot. 

“Put him in bed with the Captain's daughter, then?” Sanji chuckled in glee, softly nudging your shoulder with his, “That's the only other option in the tales and shanties.” You nudge him in return before nuzzling your head against his bicep. 

“While stringing him upside down by his ankles on the topmast is awfully tempting,” you remove your head from Sanji's arm, “We're better off just moving him and putting him to bed to sleep it off, aren't we? Wanna give me a hand, handsome?” 

“Not really,” Sanji shrugged with a soft chuckle before reaching down and grappling one of Zoro’s heavy legs, “But I will because you asked me so nicely.” You shake your head, reaching down and aiding Sanji in bearing the brunt of the swordsman’s weight to take him below deck where the others began to stir from their sleep. 

As Nami got up from the only bed, Usopp and Luffy rising from the hammocks, you gently aided Sanji in placing Zoro beneath the plush duvet and atop the mattress still warm from Nani's body heat. Shaking her head, Nami fishes a bucket from the side of the room and places it by Zoro’s head. 

Stirring briefly from his drunken stupor, Zoro’s blurred and swirling vision glared up at you all before his gaze softened into a lazy smile. 

“I… I love you guys,” Zoro’s soft, drunken drawl lazily called to you all before turning to gaze at you, “Ya’ done with the nigh’ sh-shift, ‘Selor? Gonna snooze?” 

You look over at the crew, gently giving Sanji's arm a squeeze before he turns to begin breakfast for the crew wandering atop the deck. He smiled in response, gently bobbing his chin up and wordlessly telling you to get some sleep. 

“Yeah, swordsman. I'm gonna 'snooze',” you confirm with him, turning to the hammocks and beginning to choose from the three suspended bed-spaces. Before you were able to move away from Zoro’s bedside, his muscular arms shoot out and snake around your midsection, tugging you into a warm embrace beside him. 

Nuzzling into your hair, he takes a lengthy inhale and groans in joy at the body heat radiating from you.

“S’ay w’th me?” he slurred in question, already beginning to fall into slumber with you tucked in his arms. “Only ‘til th’ room s’ops spinnin’?” Facing away from him, you shake your head with a light smile before moving the duvet up to cover the both of you. 

“Sure, Zoro,” you already feel the weight of your eyelids weighing you down the longer you linger in his embrace, “Only until the room stops spinning.” Both falling asleep almost immediately, a soft shutter of a Den-Den image conductor could be heard mixing with the harmonious snores reverberating within crew quarters.

Nami was going to hold those images over the both of you as ransom for more of a cut from your joint haul on this upcoming adventure. You both slept soundly enough to not care, dreaming of what new horizons lay waiting for you.

[takamimami]

congratulations on your 100 followers! woohoo! for the event id like to request fem!reader, prompt “Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?” for my beloved captain kidd

hello anon!! thank you for the submission, I was hoping someone would request this for my little cranky red head :3 I know this one isn't very smut heavy buuuuuuuut someone else's request may or may not be a continuation of this story line... so here's some crumbs while I work on that one :3 hope you enjoy <3

Kidd x F!Reader - NSFW - “Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?” - STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞 CW: SMUT; cockwarming, reader is a brat, inappropriate use of devil fruit powers, kidd is a lil cranky baby, dom!kidd vibes if you squint, mentions of alcohol consumption ---word count 1.6k

You weren’t sure why you had let Quincy convince you to come out to the tavern tonight, given you planned on being up early the next morning to attend the farmer’s market that was held in town so you could stock up on some things before your crew set sail at the end of the week. Yet, here you were, nursing a glass of rum as you listened to Quincy and House go back and forth about something you couldn’t bother feigning interest in. 

“Hey, Y/N, you good?” 

You snap out of your trance and gaze over to your left, Hip raising a brow at you as she motions down at your drink. 

“Yeah, just getting tired, that’s all.”

Quincy rolls her eyes, reaching over and lifting your glass to your mouth, to which you reluctantly part your lips and gulp the last of the liquid down.

“That’s more like it! You promised you’d party with us tonight! You always drink with the boys when they ask you to,” she teases, nudging your shoulder as you glare at her.

“That’s because the boys like to drink on the ship,” you grumble, scanning the area around your table before your eyes land back on the ginger woman.

“Awh, c’mon, Y/N,” Hip teases, flagging down the bartender to order another round of drinks, “Let loose with us for once, what’s the worst that could happen?”

You smirk and grab a shot glass from the bartender’s tray, deciding one more drink wouldn’t kill you, and it was just enough to give you a bit of a buzz. You grimaced as the liquid burned your throat, and after you all had finished Hop and Quincy jumped up, ushering your whole table out onto the dance floor despite your protests. 

You indulge your friends for a bit, dancing and giggling with them as eyes from all areas of the tavern fall on your group. A couple of the girls play into it, but you pay the onlookers no mind as you actually let yourself get lost in the rhythm of the music. 

Your group's antics are abruptly interrupted when a loud thud pulls everyone’s attention toward the front of the tavern, and a giddy Pomp and Bubblegum stumble in through the doorway with the rest of the crew following in tow behind them. The tavern-goers stiffen at the sight of the Kidd Pirates, specifically Kidd and Killer, who are the last two to enter as the survey the area. Kidd’s amber eyes land on you, and you can tell by the expression on his face that poker night did not end in his favor. 

He grunts as he brushes past you, the tension in the room thickening as the rest of the boys come to stand around the table with you and the girls.

“Alright, who cleared the Boss’ pockets tonight?”

Your question earns a chuckle from Killer, and even Wire gives an amused smirk as Pomp pulls a bag of berries from his waist, the pouch nearly overflowing. 

“He’s just a sore loser,” Heat mutters, giving you a warm smile as he slips into the seat next to yours.

“Well, duh, this is Kidd we’re talking about,” you giggle, looking over your shoulder to see him ordering a drink at the bar. “I am surprised he came out if he had such a bad run tonight.”

You notice Heat’s eyes flick to Wire, whose face has returned to his usually expressionless stare. 

“He only came because you were here,” he blurts out, and before you can say anything in response Kidd’s angry growl echoes from over your shoulder.

“You can all shut your fucking mouths, I came to get a drink,” he grumbles, plopping down in a seat across the table from you. 

“Yeah, okay,” Wire says, the amused smirk making an appearance again, “Boss just doesn’t wanna admit you’re his good luck charm.”

You feel a slight blush creep on your cheeks, but it quickly dissipates with Kidd’s next rebuttal. 

“I don’t need a damn good luck charm, I need a crew who doesn’t cheat me out of my fucking money!”

You laugh as the bickering starts, and you push back your chair to stand and walk over to the other side of the table, forcing yourself into Kidd’s lap and batting your eyelashes up at him.

“It’s okay to admit that you missed me,” you croon, pinching your boyfriend’s cheek as he goes red from your sudden display of affection. He averts his gaze from you and only offers a dismissive grunt as you place a gentle kiss on his chin, and he does the best he can to hide how flustered he is.

Kidd was never one to be overtly affectionate in public, and you knew this, but you still loved riling him up, especially when he was cranky or in a mood. It almost always worked at getting him to relax, and this time was no exception. Before you know it the whole crew is laughing and enjoying themselves, the topic of Kidd’s loss at the poker table a distant memory as everyone began breaking off into side conversations and antics.

You were listening to Quincy tell a story about some guy she swindled out of some jewelry when you shifted slightly in Kidd’s lap, feeling something hard in his lap as you repositioned your legs. You quirk a brow up at Kidd, who doesn’t look down at you in response. You think maybe you were mistaken, so you decide to test your luck by slinging your leg all the way over to the opposite side of his leg. Sure enough, Kidd’s erection pressed up against your ass as you settled into his lap, his fingers digging into your hips as a warning.

“Watch it,” he grunts, and being the brat you are you look up back at him innocently, feigning innocence as you smirk up at him. “What ever do you mean, Captain? I’m just getting comfortable.”

He leans forward and brings his mouth to your ear, keeping his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You keep this up and I’ll make sure you’re more than comfortable, brat.”

You feel a pulse run down your abdomen and pool in between your legs, a wicked smile curling up on your lips as you pull back and meet his gaze.

“Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?”

You whip your head back around and pretend to rejoin the conversation, feeling Kidd’s fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your thigh as he chuckles deeply.

“Killer, pass us that bottle,” he commands, and Killer slides the bottle half way across the table. It stops far enough away that you have to stand to reach it, the bottom of your skirt riding up and letting your ass peak out from the bottom. 

Kidd shifts in his seat, taking the opportunity to unzip his pants as you lean forward and grab the bottle. Then, just as you’re about to resume your position in his lap, he hooks a finger around your underwear, pulling them to the side and guiding your hips back to his lap with his metal hand, the tip of his erection proding at your entrance as he shifts his hips again to sheath himself inside of you.

You fight back a gasp at the sudden stretch of him, taking a long swig from the bottle as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Keep it there, and don’t make a sound,” he growls into your neck, “I’ll reward you if you’re good.”

You shudder at the feeling of his breath tickling your neck, and you hand him the bottle as you do your best to sit still, trying to listen to the conversation that is being had across the table. 

You manage to keep up impressions for some time, finishing off the bottle of liquor with Kidd before nearly breaking character when you feel something cold prod at your inner thigh.

You flick your eyes down to find Kidd bringing a fucking metal spoon to your core, massaging it against your clit before using his devil fruit powers to make it vibrate.

Your cheeks flush as the sensation sends a shock up your whole body, and Wire quirks a brow over at you curiously. 

“Uh oh, someone’s had too much to drink,” he teases, and as he does you feel everyone’s eyes on you, and your cheeks only grow more red.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter, deciding the guise of being drunk was better than them giving you shit about what was actually transpiring. 

You could feel your walls start contracting around Kidd’s cock as he tightened his hold on your hips, his cock pulsing from the sensation. The tiniest of whimpers escapes your lips just as you feel your core tighten, but Kidd pulls the spoon from you and tosses it on the table, pulling everyone’s eyes as you struggle not to cry out in disapproval.

“Well, looks like I gotta get this lightweight brat back to the ship,” he murmurs, no one even thinking twice about what was actually occurring. Kidd swats your ass encouragingly as you stand up, moving slowly enough so he can conceal himself back in his pants before standing. 

You waddle out of the tavern with Kidd on your heels, trying to ignore the feeling of your own arousal dripping down your leg as your legs rub together.

Once you’re out in the open air, Kidd lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder, swatting at your ass as he lengthens his strides. 

“I hope you’re ready for your reward, brat.”

Read Part 2 here :3

✨come say hai :3✨ 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 10

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Jason woke with a start as someone gently shook his shoulder, one of his notes from the previous night sticking to his face as he shot up. He heard a soft giggle from next to him and looked up, and up at Jasmine Nightingale, Queen Regent, standing there with a plate of food and looking regal as ever in her teal toga dress.

"You missed breakfast, but it looks like you were pretty busy. What are you working on?" she asked, setting a plate of French toast on the table and taking a seat, careful to not look at the notes without permission. Still, he was thankful he had written all his notes in code.

He shuffled the papers together and stuffed them into his journal before pulling the plate closer. "Just research about this place, there's so many different places here. Where are your favorite places to visit when you get a day off?" He took a bite of the food and noticed a cinnamon flavored syrup.

"I don't really go anywhere on my days off, I usually just hang out in the library or in my room all day. Sometimes I'll go visit Lady Pandora and have sandwiches and spar with her, but I haven't had much of a chance to get out of the castle for a while now." She frowned to herself as if just now realizing. "I mean, I do sometimes for meetings and whatnot, but I haven't had a chance to explore much of the Realms."

"Is there anywhere you'd want to go visit?" Jason asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

She held a finger to her chin and looked upwards as she thought. "I'd like to go to the Boardwalk at Eternal Shores and ride the coaster there." She remembered more places she wanted to go in the Realms from when she first started learning about them. "I want to hike up Soul's Peak. I want to sail in the Mirror Sea, that's so crystal clear you can see the bottom and all the fantastical and weird corals and fish. I want to ride my bike down Highway 6-66 and go to Beelzebub's Waffle House and stay at Hestia's Bed and Breakfast." She clenched her fists as she hid her face with a curtain of her hair. "I want to go to the Second Globe Theatre to watch the plays that Shakespeare has released since his death." She whispered to herself.

Jason reached for her forearm and patted it in comfort, bringing her out of her thoughts. He smiled encouragingly at her.

"Sorry, I guess I needed to let that out." She sighed and blew her hair out of her face. "I really do need a day out."

"Sounds like it. Maybe you can let any advisors you have know you need some time away? Surely they can last one day without you?" He asked and finished his plate.

"Maybe, I'll talk to Frostbite about it when we go see him. It's gonna take us a little while to get there because the Far Frozen is about a two hour drive by Specter Speeder. You should go get ready, we're heading out in about an hour. We keep cold weather clothes in the Speeder." She stood up and wiped her hands on her dress, then snapped her fingers for a skeleton to appear and take away the dish.

"What dress code should I dress for today?" Jason asked and she froze.

"Dress code?" She asked, eyes wide.

"Well, I want to match the vibe of the day, I'd feel weird to wear modern street fashion if the others in my party were wearing more formal clothes." I want to match you, he thought.

"Oh, well." She played with her skirt. "I guess since I'm appearing in public, I should dress accordingly. I'm still going more casual today since I don't have to do any public speaking. If you want to match?" She blushed. "Then I guess casual royal court? I know we don't know each other very well yet, but I'd like to be your friend if you'd accept?" She held out her hand to shake.

He gently took her hand and, though he felt electricity shoot from his fingertips, he kept his face calm and he shook it once, then let go. "I'd be more than happy to be your friend." He said with a smile.

Jazz seemed frozen for a moment before she held her hand to her chest and turned away. "I'll meet you at the split in the hallways in an hour." She said as she fled the room. Jason let out a huff of a laugh.

An hour later has Jason dressed in a poet's shirt with a pair of black leather pants, still paired with his combat boots, standing and waiting for Jazz.

"Boo." He hears and startles as Danny fades into existence, floating upside down next to him. Somehow, his clothes did not obey gravity and clung to him as if he were upright. Today he was just in the same outfit Jason had met him in.

"Christ kid, you're gonna kill me again I swear." Jason grumbles.

"Leather pants? Really? I know I said she likes the biker look, but leather pants?" Danny looked him up and down. " And what's with the flowy shirt anyway? Not very biker there."

Jason rolled his eyes and sighed, crossing his arms. "I wanted to match your sister." He stated.

"Oh boy, does this mean you're gonna be dressing like dudes on romance novel covers?" Danny scrunched his nose. "I mean, I have seen Jazz read some of those I guess, and hey, if it works, then go for it I guess." Danny fell backwards so he was floating on his back. "I'm coming with you guys to visit the Yeti's today by the way. Jazz still gets lost getting there sometimes, and the GZPS has been on the fritz since the last time Technus was here, so I gotta guide you."

"Hey, I'm getting better at it!" Jazz said as she approached the pair. "Come on, let's head over." They made their way to the training grounds where what appeared to be a hover-submarine in gleaming chrome floated with it's side hatch wide open.

Once inside, Jason took the passenger's seat and Jazz took the pilot's seat and began take off. It was a bit weird to get used to the motion, but soon they were gliding through the green and purple sky.

"So, Shakespeare's released new plays since he died? Have you had the chance to read some?" Jason asked, and with that question, Jazz just began talking with passion. He looked softly at her as she rambled for the next hour about 'Love's Labour's Won', the play thought to have been lost to time, but that Shakespeare was able to pen again once he had his haunt established and had a full cast of ghosts willing to spend eternity performing.

"What about you? I noticed you were reading Austen's first post-mortem book. How are you liking 'Satisfaction'? I read it a few years ago when I first explored the library." It was now Jason's turn to start rambling about a topic as he praised it and compared it to some of her other books.

"We're getting close!" Danny yelled from outside the Speeder. Jason looked up to see a floating glacier rapidly approaching them.

[kaziwi]

Hii! I love your writings very much! For the event prompt.. number 3 with Smoker? 🥺

YAYYYY SMOKER REQUESTTTT thank you sm for requesting him i was so scared no one was gonna

Link to Event

"You're heavy..."

Character(s): Smoker

WC: 778

If someone told you this morning you'd be carrying Vice Admiral Smoker on your back, you would have laughed in their face.

You weren't laughing now.

Earlier today Smoker had gotten a report that there were some pirates who robbed a marine based that wasn't too far from where the G-5 was sailing. They had stolen some important documents and weapons, and Smoker was determined to stop them. After finding the island, there was an all out battle between the pirates and the G-5. Being the G-5, you of course won, but after the battle was over no one could find Smoker. Tashigi ordered everyone to split up and search the island, and you had been the lucky one to find him. Apparently he had been hit with a sea stone bullet from one of the weapons the pirates stole. It was funny at first, seeing the Vice Admiral flopped on the ground like a fish, but when he suggested you carry him back, you got quiet fast.

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

"Could you maybe go a little faster..." Smoker groaned weakly on your back. It was hard to move when he was much heavier than you. Him being like 1000 feet tall and having the biggest, heaviest muscles in the world didn't help.

"I'm trying here," you hissed, "It's not as easy as it looks..."

Smoker was usually a calm man, but this was a very different circumstance. He wasn't trying to sound rude, but he needed to get back to the rest of the G-5 as quick as possible. He needed to know if any of his men were hurt and if they had lost anybody. There was no time to waste.

Unbeknownst to him, you had hurt your ankle while in the battle. It wasn't too bad at first, so you didn't mention it, but after carrying him and putting weight on your ankle, it was starting to get to you.

After a few more minutes of walking, you couldn't take it anymore. You slowly lowered him down, propping him up against a tree while you laid down on the mountain floor.

"Why'd you stop," Smoker yelled, "We need to get back to the ship, the rest of the men need me." If he didn't have a sea stone bullet in him right now, he'd pick you up and run back to the ship, but he was too weak to even clench his fist.

You on the other hand were dying. Not actually, but it felt like it. Your ankle felt like someone had dropped a 10000 pound weight on it and you were still exhausted from the earlier battle. You slowly turned your head to Smoker and croaked out, "You're heavy..."

Smoker didn't know why, but hearing the rasp of your voice, made him look past his worry for the rest of the G-5. He finally took in you appearance, your exhaustion, and most importantly your ankle, which look like a bone was basically sticking out of it.

"Shit..." he sighed, "Looks like we're both stuck here...no way you're moving anytime soon."

You wanted to retaliate, but you were too tired to do anything but pant.

Smoker looked defeated for a minute, till he remembered something.

"In my back pocket, there's a mini transponder snail, grab it we can call Tashigi."

You honestly did not want to move, but he did give you an order. You slowly crawled over to him and reached into his pocket. You picked up the snail and dialed Tashigi's number.

"SMOKER," you heard from the end of the other line, "ARE YOU OKAY?? WHERE ARE YOU??"

"Tashigi, calm down, I'm okay. I'm with Y/N, but we are both pretty beat up. How's everyone else?"

"Everyone else is fine sir, only minor injuries." You could almost see the weight being lifted off of Smoker's chest.

"We're gonna need some medics and a stretcher, so try to find us as quick as possible.." Smoker gave a quick description of the area you both were in, and then ended the call.

"Help is coming soon, so just relax," the Vice Admiral stated. It was quiet again, the only sounds being the forest that surrounded you and your deep breaths. Smoker cleared his throat, looking a bit nervous, then spoke again.

"Thank you, for putting up with my persistence, I just wanted to make sure the rest of the men were alright," a pause, "and thank you for carrying me even though you were injured....you should be proud to call yourself a marine."

A warm smile crept on his face, and soon you followed.

"Anytime Vice Admiral."

[starlitangels]

Thanksgiving with the Greers

I hereby dedicate this fic to @frenchiefitzhere and her versions of Marie and Colm and their relationship because I like Frenchie's version better than canon. This takes place years ago, btw 2.0k words

Also. I frickin' started writing this like back in spring or summer. Idk what was up with my brain that it took me until last Saturday to actually finish it

—

Asher jolted as his phone started ringing. He scooped it up.

Incoming Call… Little Man Syndrome™

“Hey Milo,” Asher greeted, holding the phone up to his ear. “What’s up?”

“What’re ya doin’ for dinner tonight?” Milo asked.

“Leftover pizza and wings. Why?”

Over the connection, a long string of expletives met Asher’s ears. But not from Milo.

“Ma—Ma—don’t blow your top just yet,” Milo said placatingly, voice distant from the mic. Before getting closer. “Ash. You realize what today is right?”

“Uh… Thursday?”

“Which Thursday?” Milo prompted.

“Well, hell, Greer. I don’t know.”

He heard the impact of Milo smacking himself in the forehead. “Oh for the love of—” Milo was cut off by Marie swearing again. “Ma! I got this!”

“You’d better 'got this' young man or Asher is never gonna hear the end of it from me!” Marie snapped.

“Ash,” Milo said, level but clearly irritated. “Today is Thanksgiving.”

“Ohhh! Is that why David invited me to go to his dad’s house with him for dinner?”

“Presumably. Why didn’t you go?”

“I don’t know I just thought it was Thursday!”

“Only you could be so time-blind to forget a holiday like this,” Milo muttered. “Look—”

“Asher Reed Talbot, you get your ass to this house in one hour, ya hear?” Marie interrupted.

Milo sighed. “Ma, I was gonna do it the polite way. Like a gentleman. Like you taught me.”

Marie’s voice softened immediately. “I know, baby,” she said. Asher heard her kiss Milo’s hair. “But sometimes a boy needs a mother to kick him in the pants in the right direction.”

Milo chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “Anyway, Ash. I’d ask if you’d care to join us for Thanksgiving dinner but I think that ship has sailed.”

Asher laughed. “I think you’re right. I’ll be over in an hour,” he said. “What’s the dress code?”

“I don’t care if you show up in your underwear so long as you’re here,” Marie said, still sharp with exasperation. “No son of mine—of my friends’—is eatin’ leftover pizza and wings alone on Thanksgivin’ if I have anything to say about it!”

“And clearly you do,” Colm’s quieter voice added even more distant from Milo’s phone.

“Hush, you,” Marie said, a smile in her voice. “One hour, Asher!”

“Yes ma’am!” Asher agreed. “Do I need to bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” Colm supplied.

“Okay. Will do.”

“Bye,” Milo said.

“See ya soon.” He hung up and put the pizza box back in the fridge. Setting his phone down on the counter in the apartment, he rushed to his room.

Thanksgiving dinner had always been a business casual dinner at his house. Probably because Madelyn and her mate flew home for it every other year and his parents wanted to make an event of it. This was the first Thanksgiving they weren’t going to be home for, traveling somewhere in… Korea or somewhere.

And knowing Marie…

“Khakis and a polo should be fine,” Asher decided.

—

“HA!” Milo barked the second Asher slipped through the front door—not bothering to knock. The Shaw and Greer houses were second homes to him. He never knocked if the door was unlocked. Which it usually was. “Someone’s overdressed!”

Asher turned to see Milo in jeans and a T-shirt with a cartoon turkey on it.

Marie thwacked Milo upside the head gently with the back of the mixing spoon in her hand. “Well how ‘boutchu go dress to match him, huh?”

Milo rubbed the back of his head. “Wait—you serious?”

Marie fixed him with a look only a mother could give. “Very,” she said.

Milo sighed. “Fine. I will.” He cast a sidelong glance at Ash. “And I’ll look even better’n you in it.”

Asher snorted. “You can try.”

Milo stomped toward the hallway, flipping the bird over his shoulder.

“Milo Anthony Greer!” Marie warned.

Milo’s hand dropped immediately. “Sorry, Ma!” He scampered off for his room.

Asher sheepishly approached Marie. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I know you said an hour and it’s been an hour and fifteen—”

“And I knew you’d be late which is why I said an hour when dinner was an hour and a half away from bein’ finished.”

Asher chuckled. “Do you know everything?”

Marie smiled and cupped Asher’s cheek in one hand—the one not holding the mixing spoon. “Just my boys,” she said with a wink. “Now get those rolls in the oven for me then get the hell out of my kitchen.”

“Yes ma’am.” Asher ducked around her to assist immediately, knowing better than to hesitate.

Colm was in the living room. A replay of the big parade in New York was going on the TV, but Colm wasn’t watching it. He was reading from a sheaf of papers on the coffee table.

Asher cleared his throat. “Look, uh, Marie,” he started quietly, heat burning at his neck and ears. “I just. I wanted to thank you. For thinking of me tonight. And for… y’know. Inviting me.” He closed the oven door and took the mitt off. But didn’t straighten to his full height. His shoulders were slouched forward and his eyes were cast down to the hardwood floor.

Marie gave him a warm smile. “Asher,” she said fondly. “You are always welcome here, you got that? Now, I don’t care if it’s Thanksgiving or a random Monday in the middle of May. You are family. And there will always be a place for you at our table.”

Asher blinked away a sudden salty sting in his eyes. “Thanks Marie,” he said, trying to swallow the thickness of his voice from the emotion in his chest. “I appreciate that.”

Marie turned back to the gravy she’d been making. From scratch. Of course. Marie Greer would never dream of any other kind of gravy disgracing her kitchen. “I’m happy for your parents. Gettin’ the chance to travel like they always talked and dreamed about. And I respect their decision to do it while they’re still young enough to withstand how exhaustin’ it is.” Her mouth narrowed into a frown. “But that doesn’t mean I approve of all-a it.” Her warm grey eyes—the same as Milo’s—flicked over to him. “They didn’t need t’ leave you here alone.”

Asher shrugged. "They thought I was old enough to live without them."

"Livin' without your parents doesn't mean ya don't still need their influence or advice." Her voice had gone hard with disapproval.

"Hey, that's what I have you for!" Asher joked brightly.

Marie leveled a Look™ at him. "You're damn right," she said seriously.

Colm covered a scoff by clearing his throat in the other room. Marie turned her Look™ briefly toward her mate before going back to her gravy.

Asher slunk carefully out of the kitchen, managing to only knock a mixing spoon onto the ground—that he quickly put back—and not mess up anything else.

Milo was stalking back into the living room, sour look on his face, having changed into a polo shirt and khakis himself.

It was, of course, Asher's job in life to give Milo a hard time. They were brothers in all but blood. But Asher admitted—silently, to himself, never out loud—that Milo definitely pulled off a polo and khakis better than he did. Milo was one of those lucky suckers who looked good in everything. Asher was tall and leanly muscled, but being tall sometimes made things look too short on him.

Milo didn't have that problem.

"Hey. Hey Milo," Asher started.

"What?" Milo retorted.

"You've got somethin' on your face."

Milo raised a single, sarcastic eyebrow. Waiting.

"Yeah. Y'know, I think it's called sour grapes."

"Oh you—" Milo moved as though to take a swing at Asher. Who ducked with a laugh and dodged out of the way.

—

Marie looked through the archway between the living room and the kitchen, watching her boys goof off and chase each other around like they had since they were little. She smiled to herself as she took the gravy off the heat and turned off the stove. A quick check through the oven window revealed the rolls were coming along.

As they kept baking, she started moving everything she'd made from the cookware she'd finished them in, to a pretty crystal serving dish. Then took them, two at a time, to the dining room table.

The clearing of a throat announced that Colm had gotten up from looking at his case files to help her. She smiled at him. He kissed the side of her head and took the two dishes from her hands, letting her grab two more.

After taking the two dishes, Colm set the table. After letting his mate choose the most festive tablecloth.

She got the rolls out of the oven right as the timer went off and quickly got them out of the pan and into a little basket with a white cloth lining it.

"A'right boys!" Marie announced, whipping her apron off after wiping her hands on it one last time. "Wash your hands and sit your asses down at the table."

Milo and Asher both froze from where Milo had managed to yank Asher down to his eye level and get him in a headlock. Marie met both of their eyes in turn, a stern look on her face. Milo cleared his throat and let go of Asher's neck. Both of them straightened their shirts and bustled—still poking and prodding at one another—into the kitchen to wash their hands. "Yes, Ma," Milo said automatically.

They knew better than to protest.

Marie and Colm sat on one side of the table. The boys sat on the other.

Milo leaned over to Asher. "We do the stuff we're thankful for before we eat," he whispered. Asher nodded.

"I'll start," Colm said. "I'm grateful, this year, for patience. The patience that my family has shown me." He reached under the table and gave Marie's leg a squeeze. She did her best not to react as his hand slipped a little higher up her leg before sliding off back to Colm's side.

She cleared her throat. "I'm grateful for my family," she said. "I'm grateful for a mate who loves me and works hard for us. I'm grateful for a pack that welcomed us as family all those years ago and never once acted otherwise. I'm grateful for an amazing, strong, brave son who has every right to be as confident as he is. And I'm grateful for all his friends who have become his family. Because they're my family. And I'm grateful that Ash could join us tonight, so he could be with family on Thanksgivin'."

She pretended not to notice Asher wiping a tear off on his sleeve.

"A'ight. My turn," Milo said. "Welp. This year... I guess I'm grateful for... everythin' I've been able to do. I learned a lot of lessons this year, and all-a 'em were important and valuable." He turned to Asher.

Who cleared his throat. "I, uh... I'm grateful for a lot of stuff. I'm really grateful for the pack that I got to be raised in. I'm grateful that David somehow has the patience to be my roommate. I'm grateful that I haven't burnt the apartment building down yet. And... I'm grateful for the Greer family. For being willing to accept me into your home on a holiday that's stressful enough as it is. Whether I wanted to come over or not." He smiled around a chuckle. "Thank you, for always making me feel welcome and at home." He swallowed. "Now can we please eat? I'm hungry!"

Colm and Milo both started laughing along with Asher. Marie just met his eyes with a loving look on her face. Sure, Ash was Frank and his mate's kid. But Ash was Marie's kid too. He certainly was now that the Talbots were traveling, but she'd loved him like a son since he and Milo had been close friends.

He gave her a grateful smile. She returned it.

"Go ahead an' dish up before it gets cold, boys," she said.

"Thank you," Milo said, reaching for the mashed potatoes.

—

General Shaw Pack and Characters Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @pinksparkl @darlin-collins @icedunderwaterroom

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Damn, y'all started early today: thanks @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @onthewaytosomewhere @magicandarchery for the tags!

First of all, thank you so much for all the wonderful birthday wishes/treats/etc—y'all are fucking wonderful and I treasure you ❤️

Here's a little snippet from the prologue of one of my Fandom Trumps Hate offerings, which I am VERY excited about. (I'm excited about all of them honestly; there are no duds in that list of prompts. But this one's... particularly personal, haha.) All it has right now is a prologue in past tense (challenge!) and in Ellen's POV (massive challenge!) before we smash cut to Alex's POV in the canon-adjacent timeline, not because it was a requirement of the fic/prompt or anything but because that's where the ✨ vision ✨ took me 🤣 It also has a tentative title, though that's subject to change... we'll see.

Ellen listened when the long, heavy tresses—the dark colour all Diaz, the weight and texture entirely Claremont—were eschewed in favour of a wild, cropped head of curls. She bought shorts and overalls when CJ’s hand-me-down skirts and dresses were met with a frown and a fierce shake of the head. And when her confident, fiercely intelligent, beautiful youngest child crawled into her lap at five years old, wrapped surprisingly strong arms around her neck, and asked quietly if she thought it was possible that God sometimes made mistakes and gave kids the wrong parts, Ellen swallowed back the lump in her throat and marvelled at the depths of bravery she knew it must have taken to ask the question. She made it through the usual bedtime routine by sheer force of will—a yes, sugar, sometimes that happens, and it’s okay if you think it happened to you and a kiss to the forehead apparently enough in that moment—only breaking down in Oscar’s arms long after both kids were asleep. It wasn’t grief or confusion that had her sobbing; she’d move mountains to make her children happy, whoever they were, whatever they needed. It was sheer frustration, seeing so many potential sources of harm and heartbreak laid out on the path ahead, traps waiting to spring, and knowing she would be unable to clear many of them out of the way.

Tagging @affectionatelyrs @agame-writes @anincompletelist @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[tarisilmarwen]

RobStar Week 2024, Day 5 - Date

(My Florida Man Flying Graysons agenda continues, also I may have been inspired by my own 10-year anniversary vacation. Enjoy!)

---

"Not that I don't appreciate Bruce doing this for us," said Dick, stirring his straw in the glass of cool bourbon sitting on the table in front of him, "but I'm still not sure about leaving the kids with him. At least, not for a whole week."

Kory nudged her own drink—an orange fruity cocktail—to the side and reached to take his hand. "Alfred has assured me that Jake and Mar'i are already having a wonderful time. The last message we exchanged I believe they were making batches of cookies."

Still agitated, Dick leaned back in the pool deck chair, making it creak underneath him. He tried to relax and enjoy the warm sea air, wafting over the top of the cruise ship as it prepared to cast off—seven days in the Western Caribbean, a full-expenses-paid trip gifted to them for their tenth anniversary—but anxious what-ifs still chased themselves around inside his head.

What if something happened while they were on vacation? What if some villain decided to attack the Manor, or target the kids for their connection to Bruce? What if Mar'i convinced Jake to sneak out on patrol with her, and what if they got hurt? What if—?

Kory squeezed his hand tighter, pinching with her Tamaranian strength, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Eyes on her and deliberately taking a long deep breath, Dick forced his anxieties away.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll stop spiraling now, I promise."

"Mmm?" Starfire prompted, with a tilt of her head.

Dick took another breath and verbalized his mental counterarguments.

"Mar'i and Jake will be fine. Bruce promised us he would keep them safe. He is not taking them on any missions or patrols and has shelved most of his active cases so that he's not too occupied to spend time with them. There are emergency procedures in place arranged with Alfred if anything happens to him while he's out on patrol. The Titans are on hand for anything else."

Kory smiled. "Feel better?"

His lips quirked. "Yeah, actually."

She squeezed his hand again, gentler this time.

They sat in comfortable silence a moment, watching the upper deck fill up with more guests, eager to watch the ship sail away from a good vantage point.

"Should we move to to prow or is this still a good spot for you?" Kory asked at length.

He had a few more sips of the bourbon in him and it was starting to put him in a better mood. "Let's go to the stern," he decided, standing and pulling her along by the hand. "We can usually spot dolphins trailing after the ship's wake."

Her eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh!" she gasped. "Yes please, I would love to see them!"

He smiled and paused so she could grab her drink and then they ambled on leisurely towards the back of the ship. The breeze picked up, warm and refreshing, promising clear summer weather and a hint of salty spray. It rustled the hem of Kory's long white skirt around her ankles, caught strands of her vibrant red hair, and whistled through Dick's scalp like a gentle caress.

He had to admit it; this was really nice.

They found a spot at the rail at almost the very back of the ship. The engines rumbled to life shortly, stirring excited flutters from the other guests as the wake churned white and they began slowly drifting away from the dock.

"What are you looking forward to the most, on this trip?" Kory asked him.

He thought for a moment, then replied, "I think the shore excursion to the historical downtown, when we reach Jamaica."

"That is a good one," Kory agreed.

"You?"

She gave a coy smile that sent shivers through him, eyes glinting mischievously. "Let us just say I have illicit plans for us after dinner on formal night," she said, almost purring the words in his ear, leaning close.

Now he tingled with excitement, already imagining his wife wrapped in the slinky black number she'd brought along for the trip and then mentally undressing her.

"Are you ah..." he said, licking his dry lips, "...opposed to giving me a little preview? After we're fully away?"

"Indeed not," she murmured, lips nipping at his ear, skin so warm he forgot how to breathe for a second. "I for one am planning on thoroughly enjoying my time with my husband."

He tilted his head and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Heat and passion flamed between them for a moment until Kory broke away with a happy gasp.

"Oh!" she cried, pointing off towards their wake. "There they are! Look!"

Dick couldn't even be mad about the interruption, grinning as he leaned arms on the railing, nursing his drink and watching dolphin fins break the surface of the water behind the ship.

He and Kory and the other guests oohed and aaahed appreciatively as the dolphins sent them off.

[erathene]

Instinct (Part 1)

Summary: Elrond is restless, and cannot shake the unease that plagues his mind. Suddenly, his gift of foresight shows him a vision of his adopted son Estel in trouble. It will take all of his fatherly instincts to patiently wait for news of Estel's wellbeing, having sent Elladan and Elrohir straight into the face of danger.

Word count: 1.3k

Pairing: Elrond & Estel, Elrond & Elladan and Elrohir.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, symptoms of a panic attack are mentioned but it is not specifically named as such. Plenty of canon-typical violence, including graphic descriptions of blood & injury.

AO3 Link: Instinct

Author's note: This was an unfinished fic I've had in my WIPs for a while and I've been desperately wanting to do something with it, but I was struggling to decide which direction to take it in. I then saw @elrondweek was happening with the prompts "Family and Love", and I decided that with a little bit of re-working and a few new paragraphs, this fic would be perfect for the prompt. There will be a part 2 in due course! Enjoy 😘

......................

Elrond Peredhel stood at the balcony of his study, surveying the landscape below. From this height, his perfect eyesight could see the entire sanctuary of Imladris, of which he was its lord. Gentle silver moonlight fell upon the cascading waterfalls, and the subtle scent of night-blooming flowers drifted from the luscious gardens. The elf lord could also hear the distant sounds of his kin gathered in the Hall of Fire, their voices blending with beautiful melodies against the backdrop of the murmuring River Bruinen. Peace reigned over the last homely house east of the sea, just as it had for the past millennia.

However, Elrond did not feel at peace this night.

The elf lord's eyes scanned the valley, his brows almost knitted together as he searched both the physical world and his subconscious for the source of the unease which tugged at his thoughts. Something was wrong, that much he knew. The feeling of foreboding was completely at odds with his surroundings; it made him grip the carved wooden balustrade of the balcony so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and his heart thundered in his chest as he strained his ears for any sounds that were misplaced.

Elrond sighed softly, letting go of the balcony railing and turning back into his study. The unease was gnawing at him, and it seemed to grow deeper the more he sought its origin. He usually found solace within the walls of this room; the shelves were adorned with his collections of ancient tomes and scrolls, and plush furnishings made the room feel cosy and comfortable. Yet the lack of tranquillity the room offered him tonight was disturbing.

He paused for a moment in front of a painted portrait of his family, commissioned several centuries ago. The smiling faces of his children stared back at him; his twin sons Elladan and Elrohir, tall and broad-shouldered, accomplished warriors in their own rights, as well as his daughter Arwen, seated before her father and brothers with beauty more exquisite than any precious gem. Elrond extended a hand and touched the edges of the framed portrait. He remembered the exact moment the painting had been revealed, how overjoyed he was to see all of his children together. Yet a small part of his heart had shattered when he was reminded at who was missing from the illustration; the light and love of his life, Celebrían.

Elrond sighed again. He did not wish to dwell on the feelings that arose when contemplating Celebrían's choice to sail west. He did not wish to be reminded of how he had utterly failed to protect his wife, or of his inability to provide the respite her soul had so desperately needed. Seeing her ship depart had almost torn his heart in two, yet he knew it was for the best. He had to let her go. The knowledge that her love for him would endure any test of time held his resolve to support his children, and the irrefutable truth that one day they would be reunited in Valinor gave him the strength to endure.

Resigning to the fact that his mind would not be stilled here, Elrond opted to leave his study in pursuit of some calming herbal tea from the kitchens. The door to the study softly closed behind him. As he rounded the top of the staircase to descend to the living quarters, his mind fell upon the other person also missing from the portrait; his human son, Estel. The young man whom he had adopted into his home as an infant was not here, having left Imladris just over a week ago to rejoin his comrades in the north. It had been delightful having him back, even if only for a short period of downtime. Elrond deeply understood that since becoming chieftain of the Dúnedain rangers, leisure time had become difficult to come by for Estel, and his forthcoming destiny to become a king amongst men would mean that his ability to do as he pleased would diminish even further than it already had. Elrond exhaled as his hand lightly touched the oak banister. It couldn't be helped. Estel was an heir, and this was his fate.

He had better make his herbal tea extra strong if he was going to have any chance of alleviating his uneasiness.

Elrond's supple leather boots lightly padded the stairs as he descended. It was here, still six feet from the bottom, that he was suddenly and violently overcome by a vision of foresight.

He found himself in the heart of a once-thriving village, now engulfed in chaos. The night air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burning buildings slowly spreading through the settlement. Every street was now a battleground; clashes of steel and anguished screams of those fighting for their lives.

Aragorn was in the heart of the chaos. His sword glinted repeatedly in the light of the fires as he swung, parried, dodged and kicked orc after orc. Black blood coated his tunic and ranger's travelling cloak, the liquid catching the moonlight as his chest rose and fell with the exertion of battle. The waves of beasts seemed unending, for as soon as he cut one down, another would take its place.

He glanced quickly over his shoulder. Nearby, several villagers were equally engaged with the foul beasts. They were putting up a brave fight, but their only means of defending themselves were farming scythes and pitchforks. Aragorn saw to his horror that the group were quickly becoming overwhelmed. He launched a war cry, decapitating the nearest orc and slashing his way towards the group without hesitation.

Before he could get to the group, however, movement from above caught the ranger's attention. A handful of orcs had scaled one of the unburnt buildings, and they were holding bows. "Archers!" Aragorn blared over the ruckus to the group of locals. "Take cover! Now!" The orcs began to nock, draw and release. A wave of tipped projectiles raced in their direction. Several hit their mark, embedding into the flesh of those who had heard Aragorn's warning too late. One arrow found the stomach of the villager closest to ranger, sending him to the ground. Aragorn's first instinct was to race over to help the fallen man, but before he could act, an arrow pierced his own shoulder.

The ranger staggered, pain threatening to overwhelm him. Yet he resolved to continue to fight; there were innocents in this village who needed his protection. He glanced down at the protruding fletching and ripped it from his flesh before he could overthink what it would do to his senses. He let out a roar of pain. The arrowhead had buried itself deep near his collarbone, and blood began to pour from the open wound. He idly wondered how best to pack the wound and stem his bleeding in the midst of this battle.

Distracted, he failed to notice a particularly large orc barrelling towards him. The monster collided with the man, sending his form crashing to earth and his sword flying. Aragorn's ribs screamed under the weight of the filthy orc, and panic started to rise as the creature's hands wrapped themselves around his neck. Darkness began to form at the edges of his vision as he struggled to reach for his weapon…

Elrond's reality came flooding back to him then, and far too late he realised he was pitching forwards, the staircase he had been gracefully traversing now rushing up to meet him. He landed hard, the edges of the wooden plinths colliding with his side. He lost all control as he rolled down the remaining steps, tangled in his own flowing robes and the normally elegant braids askew in his hair. Finally, he came to a stop at the foot of the stairs, his entire form shaking from shock and fear.

Two of the household staff heard the commotion and rushed forwards to their lord's aid. Elrond gripped the forearm of the elleth who was nearest to him, his voice weak and breathless over the sporadic shudders that coursed his body.

"Find Elladan and Elrohir. Find my sons."

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

hello!! im crumbling after learning that ofmd isnt being renewed and ive been dying for new frenchie x reader fics for months. I will take literally anything to heal my broken heart🙏

Frenchie x Reader (GN)

Masterlist

This is my first time writing a story centered around Frenchie, so I hope I did this sweet goof justice.

Summary: Frenchie comes up with a plan to get you out of work, and it ends with your first kiss.

Playing Hooky 

You had joined Stede Bonnet’s crew on The Revenge around the same time as everyone else, just before Blackbeard’s takeover. Captain Bonnet’s easygoing approach to piracy appealed to you, but the atmosphere drastically shifted when Izzy Hands took over as first mate. You preferred first mate Button’s quirky leadership on deck over Izzy’s constant yelling. As the crew stirred awake, preparing for the day, you sluggishly found your way to the galley, easing into your normal seat across from Frenchie. 

Frenchie greeted you with his usual broad, goofy grin and a wave, all the while engaged in a lively debate with Wee John. Frenchie was adamantly claiming that his friend had once encountered a siren, while Wee John countered that sirens weren’t real. Lately, spending time with Frenchie became the primary reason for you to leave your hammock and get to work each morning. Over the past few weeks sailing for Bonnet, you had developed quite a crush on him. It was hard not to, given his contagious energy, warm brown eyes, sweet nature, and lovely singing voice. He was undeniably handsome and always fun to be around. 

While engrossed in Frenchie’s animated discussion about the dangers and allure of Sirens with Wee John, you failed to notice Izzy Hand’s entrance into the galley. He swiftly began assigning tasks to the crew, designating you for lookout duty before departing as quickly as he came. Today, Frenchie was assigned to kitchen duty, and the thought of spending the day so far apart from him was disheartening. As Izzy left, you slouched over, letting out a sigh as your head rested on the table. Being the lookout had become a repetitive and utterly boring role for you this week. You found it both tedious and isolating. Izzy insisted you ascend to the foremast top to scan the horizon for other ships, but in reality, it often meant hours of staring into emptiness. 

“Well, that’s no good.” Frenchie sighed, prompting you to glance up. “This makes it the fourth time this week you’ve been on lookout.” 

“It is what it is,” you grumbled in response. A part of you was surprised that Frenchie had been keeping tabs on your ship duties, but you shrugged it off. 

“I say, lookout duty is for the birds.” Frenchie replied with a mischievous grin. “So you should play hooky with me instead.” 

Frenchie’s tempting proposal lingered in the air. You considered the ease with which he could slip away during kitchen duty, but a nagging feeling warned you that Izzy would notice your absence right away. 

“Izzy would catch me if I’m not at my post, Frenchie,” you chuckled. “How would that even work?” 

“I’m thrilled you asked,” Frenchie replied with a confident air. “Fortunately for you, I’m a master at the art of espionage.” 

“Good feckin’ luck with that, you two,” Wee John replied, abandoning the table and wanting no part in Frenchie’s antics for the day.

“Alright,” you replied, returning Frenchie’s eager smile. “I’m in.” 

As Frenchie outlined his plan to free you from lookout duty, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the odds of getting caught were almost certain. Yet, the idea of spending extra time with him today made it seem worth it. Following his instructions, you retrieved an extra set of your clothes and a hat from your belongings. 

On your way back to the galley, carrying your extra attire, you unexpectedly crossed paths with Roach. He nonchalantly twirled his meat cleaver while making his way to the kitchen. Engaging in casual conversation, Roach abruptly halted as he observed Frenchie lugging two large bags of flour and a cantaloupe from the nearby storage closet. 

“Now, wait one second,” Roach sang in a threatening tone, continuing to swing the meat cleaver in his hands. “What’s happening here?” 

You observed Frenchie’s face shift into panic as he held the bags of flour. “Oh, well, that’s a great question.” Frenchie stammered. “The captain, you know him, wanted some extra cushions for his cabin. So, I thought, why not these bags of flour?” 

“And the melon?” Roach prodded Frenchie, not sounding convinced. 

“The melon?” Frenchie questioned, momentarily forgetting it was still in his arms. “Oh, you know. He wanted a melon to eat while he sat on the cushion?” Frenchie replied unconvincingly. 

“We’re making a dummy that looks like me, so I can get out of lookout duty today,” you quickly interrupted Frenchie, sensing Roach wasn’t buying his story. 

“Oh nice. Why didn’t you say so?” Roach replied jovially, moving into the kitchen and sticking his knife into the wood of the counter. “Just bring that stuff back once you’re done.” 

“Yes sir.” you replied with a grin, before you and Frenchie headed off to his and Wee John’s room to craft your makeshift lookout dummy. 

You stuffed your spare clothes with the sacks of flour, carefully arranging the cantaloupe on top and capping it off with your hat. Stepping back, both of you surveyed your creation, with Frenchie biting his finger and tilting his head as if appreciating a work of art. 

“Is this what I look like?” you chuckled, examining the scarecrow-like figure before you. 

“Oh, lord no. A dummy could never capture your essence,” Frenchie replied with a bashful grin, causing your heart to flutter for a moment. 

“How the fuck are we going to hoist this up to the foremast without anyone seeing?” you suddenly questioned, once again doubting the feasibility of Frenchie’s plan. 

“Piece of cake,” Frenchie replied confidently. “I’ll whip up a distraction, get everyone’s attention, and give you time to sneak the dummy into place.” 

Crouched on the stairs leading up to the main deck, you and Frenchie had managed to haul the bags of flour, masquerading as you, up the stairs. Frenchie swiftly ascended to the deck, creating a commotion to divert everyone’s attention. From your vantage point, you observed him shouting to the crew and Izzy Hands about something in the water at the ship’s rear. Racing across the quarterdeck, Frenchie reached the poop deck, peering over the edge. Suddenly, the ship lurched, caught in an unexpected wind, causing Frenchie to lose his balance and, with a large splash, disappear overboard. 

Your mouth fell open in astonishment, unsure if this was part of Frenchie’s planned distraction or an accidental plunge. Regardless, the unexpected loss of Frenchie at sea triggered chaos on the deck. Most of the crew rushed to the ship’s rear, where Frenchie was standing moments before. Seizing the opportunity, you sprinted to the foremast and began scaling it with the dummy slung over your shoulder and the cantaloupe tucked under your arm. Wee John, seemingly unfazed by Frenchie’s abrupt departure overboard, chuckled at the spectacle of you ascending the rigging above him. Amused, he made no effort to draw attention to your climb. 

Reaching the platform, you arranged your doppleganger, having it lean against the mast’s railing. Securing the dummy in place with a length of rope around the wooden beam, you hastily tucked the melon into the neck opening of your clothes and placed your hat on top. There was no time to check how realistic it looked from below deck, instead you hurriedly retreated to the galley, your agreed-upon meeting spot, as the crew worked to fish Frenchie from the sea. 

A short while later, Frenchie found you in the galley. He was wearing a knitted sweater, which you assumed Wee John had made for him at some point, along with dry pants. 

Upon spotting you, Frenchie triumphantly lifted his arms, clearly relishing the success of his plan. 

“Master of Espionage,” he declared, his grin widening as his hands remained raised in the air. 

You hopped onto the kitchen counter with a chuckle. “Was it part of your grand plan to fall into the ocean, great master?” you teased. 

Frenchie grabbed an orange from the counter, likely an extra that Roach hadn’t used for breakfast, and began peeling it. 

“Not initially. That’s the beauty of being a master, babe,” he replied coolly. “Plans just come to you suddenly.” 

After peeling the orange, he handed you the other half with a genuine smile, lifting his portion for a toast. “Cheers, my dears,” he whispered. 

You were convinced that Frenchie’s plan had really changed the moment he hit the water, but his confident demeanor did have a certain charm. You both finished off your halves of the orange, placing bets on how long it would take for Izzy to realize your absence. laughter ensued as you marveled at how absurd this day had been so far. 

The peaceful camaraderie in the kitchen was abruptly interrupted by the furious shouts of Izzy Hands calling your name. Frenchie seized your hand, swiftly guiding you to the pantry in the galley, where you both concealed yourselves. The echoing stomps of Izzy’s boots resonated near you, prompting you to stifle quiet laughter. Frenchie placed his hand over your mouth, setting off a shared fit of laughter, and in response, your hand covered his mouth. 

When the echoes of Izzy’s boots faded in a different direction, you both removed your hands. “I’m absolutely fucked.” you laughed. 

As your gaze returned to Frenchie, you caught him looking down at your lips before his eyes swiftly met yours again. The confined intimacy of the small pantry suddenly became palpable, and you sensed the mood shifting. Frenchie leaned in, and his lips gently met yours. They felt soft, carrying a lingering sweetness from the orange you both had shared just moments before. Hesitantly, he leaned away after the kiss, meeting your eyes once more with a shy smile, seemingly trying to gauge your reaction. 

“Frenchie, you kissed me,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips. 

“I couldn’t help it,” he whispered back. 

This time, you took the initiative, leaning in for another kiss. Wrapping your arms around him in his warm sweater, you drew him closer. The fear of Izzy Hands faded away as you both lost yourselves in the sweet, stolen moment. 

The pantry door swung open abruptly, revealing Izzy, red with anger, brandishing a cantaloupe. 

“What the fuck is this?” Izzy spat at the two of them. 

“A cantaloupe,” you replied, causing Izzy’s face to scrunch even more with rage. 

“I thought Mr. Spriggs was the only seductress on board, but I guess I was wrong,” Izzy continued. “This little trick has earned you barnacle duty for the rest of the day.” With that, Izzy quickly turned to leave, dropping the cantaloupe onto the ground. 

Frenchie shot you an apologetic look, but you responded with a giant grin. “Totally worth it,” you said, giving him one more quick kiss before following Izzy. 

“Go, Frenchie,” you heard him whisper to himself when he thought you were out of earshot, causing a smile to creep across your face. 

“Go, Frenchie,” you repeated quietly to yourself as you made your way to the deck.

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Hiii I love your works and keep up the good work!!!

This is my first time requesting something XD

I wanna request Ryusui from Dr.stone with the prompt "dancing in the rain"? Like- they are wrapped in each other's arms dancing together with no care in the world? ❤️❤️

I would be really pleased if you do this thank youu🫶🫶

Hello!

Thank you so much! You did great at requesting! it is an honor to write your first one!

I hope you enjoy this one as well my dear! please let me know what you think!

I may or may not have exaggerated a bit. i changed it a bit, just a little bit.

Tsuki's note: i am not a manga reader so this may be coming out of nowhere on the timeline. Also, reader fixes things beacuse yes, imagine you are learning with Kaseki here. i am an engineer and i like to fix things. I projected a bit, just for the sake of plot.

Tsuki's note: i really love ryusui and i feel like i won't make him justice.... *sigh* lets see how it goes...

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

You were finishing a few touches in the perseus. Usually the one who did this was Kaseki, but he was busy with helping Senku with another insane project, so you took it upon yourself to finish the boat's maintenance.

Anytime you were at it, it wasn't uncommon at all to have Ryusui walking around the boat. You always took it as him being patient with wanting to sail again or just checking on your work - how it was compared to Kaseki, maybe.

But you paid him no mind. At times you would also see Francois, and they usually had something for you - some water, some cookies, something.

This time around, he was actually helping with something - Ryusui was carrying around some supply boxes, it wasn't like Taiju and Tsukasa weren't around, so you guessed he young master just felt like doing something.

The wheater was getting bad very fast. You usually got everything in a dry spot and continued later, but you were so close to being done! just a little bit! You heard Ryusui asking you to collect everything - the sky was turning darker and darker. You asked him for a few minutes, quick stuff.

Just then, it started to rain. A few droplets here and there, no big deal! You can finish this! just gotta be careful. A sigh left your lips when you noticed you needed something that wasn't around you - probably forgot to grab this tool.

So you went back inside the ship, where Kaseki usually kept the tools to fetch the one you needed. You spotted it rather quickly and as you were walking back to last bit of task, you heard a very familiar booming voice from behind you:

Ryusui: Y/N? You are drenched!

You laugh and turned around to see Ryusui staring at you.

Y/N: Well... yeah, its raining a little bit.

Ryusui: C'mon, I will have Francois fetch you some dry clothes.

Y/N: oh, just a moment, i am almost done.

As soon as you said that, you saw a glimpse of a confusion on his face:

Ryusui: But the rain is going to pick up soon, you sho-

Y/N: Yeah, I am not made of sugar, I won't melt! How about you?

You smiled at him and walked away.

You didn't hear Ryusui coming after you, so you just went back to what you were doing. By the time you were finally done, a down pour started. You could barely see in front of you.

You sighed happily - you were done! drenched but done!The rain really muffled most noises, as you didn't hear footsteps approaching you. No, you only felt a hand on your shoulder - a hand with blue marks:

Ryusui: Y/N!

You jumped. You got scared for dear life. You turned around kinda pissed at him for scaring you like that! with a hand on you chest, you felt your heart stop and restart:

Y/N: Don't do that!

Ryusui: Ah... Sorry. I called for you but you didn't answer.

Oh. You probably didn't hear him - thats how strong rain was:

Y/N: Oh... Look at that, you didn't melt!

You could see Ryusui was a bit annoyed by your comment. But he just grinned, that cocky grin that always came with the finger snapping:

Ryusui: Aha! This rain is nothing for a sailor! I was worried about this beautiful person walking alone on this heavy rain!

He motioned his hand towards you. You just blinked. He was so damn ridiculous at times, but you cannot lie you loved it.

Y/N: Ah... Thanks, i guess?

Ryusui: Let's go back inside, Y/N.

He offered his hand to you. You couldn't help but be snarky one last time as you automatically placed your hand in his:

Y/N: For someone used to water you sure run away fast from it.

Ryusui looked at you and smiled. With swift movement, he had you in his arms terribly close to him:

Ryusui: Aha! I am not running!

You felt your face burn. so close. you were feeling a mix between pushing him away and walking off or just try to find a hole then and there.

You ended up choosing to push him away or try to. Because he still had a hold of your hand, and pulled back again. You started to get a little mad and before you could give a light punch to his chest, he spun you around and caught your other hand:

Ryusui: Haha! A little rain doesn't scare me, specially when i am accompanied by such a beautiful person.

You were completely stunned. You felt your face burn even more, no words left your lips. What was he talking about? Why was he so charming?

You felt like this staring moment lasted forever. But while you were in that daze - that was actually really short - Ryusui continued talking to you:

Ryusui: Say, Y/N, what would you-

Another booming voice came from somewhere in the ship, this voice:

Taiju: Y/N! Ryusui! Where are you?

That made you both look in the direction of the voice, but you couldn't really see because of the rain. But you took this chance to push Ryusui, grab his hand and yell back at Taiju:

Y/N: Yeah! We are going back!

Ryusui was a bit surprised, he did not expect you to hold his hand and drag him along. Not when you were picking on him for not staying in the rain.

He couldn't help but smile. You were adorable! He allowed you to drag him back for shelter. Upon getting inside the ship, you were greeted by towels - a courtesy from Francois.

You grabbed your towel and quickly walked away, not daring to look around. You could hear a worried Taiju following asking if you were cold or something, perhaps a fever? your cheeks were colored.

In reality you just wanted to walk away from Ryusui. He can be stupidly charming, meanwhile you were swearing to Taiju were ok, not a fever, not a cold. you were ok.

Ryusui who was left standing with Francois smiled, while watching you walk away:

Francois: Ryusui - sama, did something happen?

The man snapped his fingers before answering:

Ryusui: Just a little waltz on the rain!

Francois smiled slightly and nodded. Ryusui couldn't help but wish he had a little more time with you outside. just a little bit more. After all he loved seeing your embarrassed face, it suited so well this time. He would never deny how much he loved when you got so shy around him, it was so cute!

Perhaps next time, you could actually dance in the rain together?

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

Thank you for reading!

Let me know what you think!

[artiststarme]

Exes and Oh’s

Based on a prompt from @nburkhardt and some comments from @i-less-than-three-you. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

Title brought to you by @kissaphobic-kas

~*~*~*~

When Robin told Steve that she and Nancy were dating, he was happy for her. Of course he was, his best friend was finally in a true relationship and he was thrilled that Nancy could be who she needed. He had no reason not to be happy and supportive of them. And yet, there was still something holding him back from giving them his full support. 

While it had been literal years since they dated, Nancy had broken his heart. She’d torn it from his chest, trampled all over it, looked at the bottom of her shoe, and called it bullshit. Deep down, Steve was afraid she’d do the same thing to Robin. 

Robin was his best friend and he didn’t want to see her hurt. He’d already had to coach her through the disappointment and dejection of losing the potential of dating Vickie and he’d seen how upset she was after that. He couldn’t even imagine how she’d react to getting her heart broken by Nance or how depressed she’d get when Nancy called her bullshit. It had taken Steve months before he could even look at Nancy without feeling his heart break and he certainly didn’t want that for Robin. 

With every happy smile he gave them came a look of wariness and after a few weeks, everyone started noticing it. 

Robin started creating more distance between them, Nancy started glaring at him when she picked up Robin from work, and even the kids started calling him out on it. Dustin, in particular, made sure to voice his thoughts on the matter. 

“You have to move on from Nancy, Steve! She’s with Robin now. You had your chance with both of them and now it’s just pathetic!” Dustin told him one night when he picked him up from DnD. The little bastard had staged some sort of subpar intervention for him. 

Steve was not amused and was quick to come to his own defense. “What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a thing for Nance or Robin. I’m happy for them!” 

“Steve, we can see that you still like Nancy but Robin is with her now. You have to get over her,” Lucas said gently. The other kids nodded in agreement and even the other Hellfire guys tilted their heads in agreement. The only kid that didn’t nod or make a nasty remark was surprisingly Mike Wheeler. He had a look of understanding in his eyes like he understood why Steve was hesitant and it was throwing him off. 

Steve sputtered at them, unsure of what to say to make them believe that he truly was 100% over Nancy Wheeler. Eddie, as usual, came to his rescue.

“Hey, listen up you little shits. Steve says there’s nothing going on so that means there’s nothing going on. Drop it or your characters are going to take some serious hit points.”

The kids grumbled a little bit but they did drop the subject for the time being. They all shuffled around to collect their items before marching outside to plan yet another ambush on him, probably. 

Then there was Eddie. His boyfriend that he’d been dating all summer, the best friend turned boyfriend that no one knew about yet. Steve could tell that he was curious. When wasn’t he? But he was trying his best to be respectful despite the obvious tension between Steve and the rest of the Party. Steve couldn’t help but love him just a little bit more for having his back when no one else did. 

Steve mentioned it to Eddie the next day while they were lounging around the Munson’s trailer. “You know I don’t love her still, right? Like Dustin said? That ship has sailed, definitely.”

Eddie’s eyebrow quirked and his face brightened with a cocky smirk. “Yeah Steve, you had my dick in your mouth an hour ago. That ship hasn’t just sailed, it sank to the bottom of the ocean and disintegrated into dust like your heterosexuality. What’s the real issue that’s got you so upset?”

Steve gave him an unimpressed look at his crass but he had a point. Eddie had absolutely nothing to worry about between him and Nancy. He deserved to hear the full story. 

“You remember what happened at Tina’s Halloween party?” Eddie nodded. He’d already told Steve in the past that he’d heard the entire train wreck of a conversation through the thin walls of Tina’s house so he’d had a front row seat to their breakup. “Nancy really hurt me. She called our entire relationship bullshit. She called me bullshit! And that really fucked me up for a long time, still does sometimes. I can’t even hear the word ‘bullshit’ without feeling like a failure even still. I just… I don’t want Robin to have to feel like that. You know?”

Eddie thought for a second before he nodded. “You’re worried about her, that’s understandable. Nancy hurt you and she might hurt Robin too. But she might not. And Robin knows the risks, you told her about how Nancy hurt you, right? She knows what she’s getting into and she’s willing to take that chance.”

“Um no, I haven’t told Robin about it.”

Eddie’s head jerked over to him and he looked at him in shock. “Why not? She’s your best friend, why wouldn’t you complain about your crappy ex with her?”

“Well first of all, that crappy ex is her current girlfriend-” Steve started. 

“I mean before she started dating her and you know it-”

“Second of all, it’s embarrassing. What was I supposed to tell her? ‘Hey Robs, I wanted to let you know that Nancy broke my heart and hurt my feelings because I was a bad boyfriend and I don’t want her hurting you’? That wouldn't go well.” Steve shook his head. No, he didn’t quite know how to fix things with her but talking about his past heartbreak wasn’t going to do it. 

“Stevie, baby. You just have to talk with her and she’ll understand. You guys are Platonic with a capital P soulmates. Just tell her and she’ll understand,” Eddie murmured to him. He kissed the back of Steve’s hand and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“You really don’t care?” Steve asked him. 

“Do I care that you’re concerned for your best friend? Stevie, you could be doing so much worse. Caring for your friend isn’t a red flag. I was accused of murder, which is a pretty big red flag, and you’re still with me,” Eddie laughed. 

“Well that’s because you didn’t do it!” Steve protested. 

“Steve, you could do anything and I would still love you,” Eddie told him earnestly.

“What if I actually killed someone?” 

“Then we’d have to bury the body and then move because my reputation can’t handle any more murder accusations.”

What was Steve supposed to do in response to that besides kiss him?

He did end up talking to Robin a few hours after his talk with Eddie. There were tears, hugs, and a particularly memorable shovel talk between Steve and Nancy. Everything went back to normal and it stayed like that until Mike Wheeler walked in on Steve and Eddie making out. Then, the tentative understanding that existed between them flew right out the window. 

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[writingamongther0ses]

Fifteen Letters

Summary: Mercury delivers letters, Hermes complains.

For @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt of "Seal It Tight"! Still working on this WIP idea, still figuring out these characters. And I needed to repost this because I published it to the wrong blog.

-_-

Father had relaxed the rules about leaving Olympus until the threat was handled, just a bit. A few gods could leave to do their duties, including Mercury. However, he had announced that nobody was allowed to visit or help the questing group, unless of course someone ran into them.

Which left Mercury in a bit of a conundrum.

"Fifteen letters?" Hermes mused in the back of his mind. "R.K. usually doesn't get that many in one sitting. Not unless it's academy business."

"Don't sound so gleeful about it." Mercury huffed, flipping through the letters. Most were from Olympus. Five were from Poseidon's family, one was specifically from Headmaster Apollo, another one marked as being from the Ithaca family, and three were from... "The Underworld?" He shook it away to focus on the problem. "Father said none of us are allowed to visit the quest."

"Except he also said that we need to perform our duties." Hermes audibly had a smirk in his tone, one that made Mercury's stomach twist unpleasantly. That was the tone he usually had before he got into something. "I'll just be delivering mail to her, as part of my duties. I'm not breaking any rules-"

"No." Mercury set the bundle into his bag and stepped off the platform. "I'll be delivering the letters."

There was silence. For about five seconds.

"WHAT?!"

Mercury jolted, nearly losing the focus to keep flying. Once again, he had to bite back a mental scream at whatever force had shoved them together all those eons together. "She distracts you," he huffed instead. "Remember what happened when you delivered the moly to her?" His lips still tingled from the kiss given as R.K. had accepted Hermes' gift, two weeks after it had happened. Based on the new silence in the back of his mind, he did. "If I let you deliver, I don't think you'll leave her side."

"She's my girlfriend! The one I haven't seen in six months! Even greater than that, she's my favorite mortal!" Mercury rolled his eyes as Hermes raged. Honestly, he was more like a toddler than a god about this woman. "You try not seeing her for six months and not get distracted!"

"Well, I was perfectly put together when I met her." Mercury humphed. "You just need self-control."

Hermes continued yelling about the topic as Mercury began delivering the mail. Four letters, all from Jupiter, were delivered to the four winds. One letter was sent to Juno's private palace in Samos, where he was turned away from actually seeing the queen. Several letters, marked as being from Neptune, were delivered to several river nymphs. The mail in his bag trickled to nothing as Hermes gradually grew quieter, and Mercury tried to ignore the packet of fifteen letters, all sealed tight.

Was he stalling? Maybe. Just a little bit.

Finally, however, he couldn't.

The ship was eye-catching as it sailed up the West Coast, with blue sails marked with a trident visible even in the night's darkness. Mercury could see about three people on the deck, two yawning. He slipped past them and entered the lower deck. It was easy to figure out where the crew's rooms were, as the doors were marked with names.

His plan was to just knock and leave the letters at her door.

Instead of fifteen letters, however, he pulled out sixteen.

"Oh, you idiot," Mercury said, glaring at the small envelope marked as For R.K. with swooping letters. He knew the silence had meant nothing good for his health.

"Just because you won't let me talk to her, doesn't mean I can't communicate."

"This is exactly what Father forbid!"

"No, I'm not visiting. I'm writing her."

"Why you-"

The door opened before Mercury could finish the threat.

"Herm-" R.K. came to a stop, blinking those soft blue eyes. Her wide grin faded, replaced by a small but polite smile. "Oh. Lord Mercury." His irritation faded, replaced by a spark of delight. She recognized him!

"Oh, you-"

"What brings you here?"

"Mail, for you, Miss Calimeris." Mercury held out the packet of letters, trying to ignore the fact that there was one more than what he started with. Despite his words, he felt himself linger, watching as she flipped through the letters. "You have many people eager to get back in touch now that you've been found."

"Mr. Calimeris is my dad. I'm only twenty-five, I am not ready to feel that old yet." R.K. started by pulling out Apollo's letter first, flashing him a warmer smile that made heat rise up in his face. "Please, call me R.K." Mercury felt his eye twitch, a motion that was not his, as she ripped open the envelope and scanned the letter. "And Apollo knows I don't handle the taxes of the academy, that's all him... Mind sticking around so I can send a letter back?"

"No-"

"I have the time."

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Prompt: “You’ve never been too much for me.”

Song: Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

For Tolya x Reader please!!

Saints Or High Water - Tolya x Reader

Yes. Happy to oblige.

Content Warnings: Canon Compliant Threat and Fear Related To Targeted Violence and Execution, Not Beta or Proof Read, Suggestions Of A Difficult Family Life and Upbringing, Anxiety, Self Doubt, Negative Self View And The Terrifying Fear Of Being Known Loved And Seen.

Does it count as hurt/comfort if you're just being mean to yourself until the very kind shapely man tells you you're worth something?

Just another drabble I guess.

There is good and bad in everything, the universe finds a way to create balance. The Small Science is no exception to that rule. Being Grisha is an extraordinary thing, there's deep beauty in the power The Saints give. But that doesn't mean being Grisha is always easy, and those in the parts less forgiving to Grisha, less understanding, less inclined to see gifts as blessings but as signs of witchcraft or sin, this was ever clear. But even the quieter ways, within oneself being Grisha isn't always easy. A talent is a talent for as long as you nurture it, as you learn it, keep it close and well maintained, but these kinds of talents aren't always easy to tether. They try to teach Grisha young for a reason.

You're sitting on the edge of the deck, and it's one of those days, where being so many miles from shore feels like a blessing, because distancing yourself from land makes everything feel less real. On the Volkvolny the ability to practice The Small Science is admired, under the operation of Sturmhond, on this ship with a crew he had collected, it was usually far more easy to forget the harshness that waits on land. But not today.

Today the waves are not big enough to swallow all the feelings that are raging just underneath the surface, keeping you a safe distance from anyone else on the ship. The wind rushing over the sails, and the all the crashing of water against The Wolf could not drown out the thoughts echoing so loudly within your mind, determined to be heard, demanding to be seen. Thoughts that are taking up more space than you ever would dare to take up at all.

A Heartrender like any Corporalki worth their salt as a Grisha would be able to sense the mood from this distance, and almost all would know when sadness runs this deep and this quiet, that nothing would really help, and likely that help would not be welcomed. At sea, it is generally accepted to let people be with their feelings, the ocean more forgiving than the land. More accepting too.

But Tolya Yul Bataar was not just any Heartrender, and you had long come to know that about him. Not only was the strong giant as poetic as he was stoic, which was a lot, but he was also persistent, in that quiet, gentle way that you had come to know. Never had you known a man who's honour was more evident than his strength and yet stood quite as tall and strong as Tolya.

His approach is slow, gentle, arms crossed as he leans into the post, as if he had no other reason to be there. He probably doesn't, but you don't linger on that thought.

"Come to share some poetry have you Tolya?" You ask against the wind. Maybe he won't hear you, and he will leave you to this quiet sadness once more.

"That wasn't my intention but I am happy to oblige," he smiles and for a moment you forget why you wanted to be alone. Tolya has this way with you, of making you forget even if just for small moments just how cruel the world can be.

You glance as he unfolds his arms, to reach for a small book in his pocket, and you have long forsaken asking him how he managed to keep his skin exposed in such cold conditions as you watch some of the salt spray hit his upper arm and he leans away from the waves to shield the book.

"O the opal and the sapphire of that wandering sea,

And the woman riding high above with bright hair fluttering free,

The woman whom I loved so, and who loyally loved me."

You let him read to you a while, as you watch the way the water turns white as it hits the sides of the ship, wondering if the water wants to be different, something else to what it is and that is why it endlessly tries to throw itself against whatever it passes, desiring to be changed by the impact.

"Those are new," you comment after a while and Tolya smiles and it reaches into those golden eyes and you try not to look too closely. Tolya is something else, and you wonder if you would've stayed here on this ship, with this crew for as long as you have had it not been for him. Never had you known anyone like Tolya, and you doubt you would again, and it was with such certainty of that you held onto his presence and his companionship as deeply as you could, while trying to spare him the overwhelming closeness of knowing you.

"As much as I enjoy you indulging me, I sense that maybe it's less about my passion today and more about what you wish not to say," he says.

For all the time, and all the practice, and all the attempts to keep him far enough away that your mistakes could never end up being his burden, he still sees straight through you like you were glass.

"Today I am the ocean, unreadable and entirely too much," you admit.

You feel the warmth of his presence before you notice him moving closer, his shoulder now pressed to yours as he leans forward on the edge of the gunwale.

“You’ve never been too much for me.”

"And I intend to keep it that way," you say without thinking. Tolya is honest, honest and true in a way that makes you want to be so back. Tolya stands so tall and yet does not cast a conceited shadow, his shade is nothing but comforting. A Grisha, a Heartrender, who would rather use the weapons he practiced and learned to fight with than his blessings. Probably because of his faith, but Saints you'd never stopped to ask.

"You cannot be do much for me," he says quietly. You expect a joke to follow, a comment such as 'you've met Tamar,' but in the absence of his twin, Sturmhond or any other member of crew to joke to, his sentiment is more important than the shielding of it.

You remain silent and that tells him exactly what he thought you might say: you do not know me enough to say that.

"I understand why you do this," he says quietly, "after years of being called a monster, it is easy to believe yourself to be one, and it takes much more to undo such damage than it does to create it. But you are not what those for fear you speak you to be."

His kindness always brings a warmth that no fire could ever come close to bringing. You drag your eyes from the waves and he is watching you, gentle and consistent.

/And I don't want the world to see me/

"I do not always feel that I was gifted, not when I was told I was cursed," you admit. "But it is not me that I am quiet for. I am more concerned about those who must be around me. Those who could be hurt by my monster."

"You are no monster," he says, reaching forward and placing his hand over your own. You expect his hand on yours to feel more rough, more calloused, but all you can feel is the softness of his expression and the tenderness of his words, with the grounding weight of all he means to you. /'Cause I don't think that they'd understand/

"And I know I cannot make this storm pass, but I will wait with you, until it does, we can stand here, and we can say nothing," he says. "And we will wait until it passes, and I will stay here, right beside you."

/When everything's made to be broken/

You lean into him and he wraps an arm around your shoulder and holds you close and for a short moment it all goes quiet.

/I just want you to know who I am/

"What if it doesn't pass?"

"It will, but if it doesn't, I will stay right here."

[angelasscribbles]

Wild Ride: A Bad Romance Prequel One-Shot

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Leo

Rating: NSFW

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons

Word Count:  2,503

A/N: If you've read Bad Romance you know who Riley ends up with in the end. If you've read Disney Adventure, you also know that there was a previous weekend with Leo that predates her meeting everyone else. (And she had no idea Leo and Liam were connected until the coronation). Disney Adventure references this weekend (many times lol), but goes into no detail. This is that detail. Or at least the beginning of it.

Way back in November of 2022, I posted a prompt wheel ask event to celebrate passing the 350-follower mark. That was 15 months and roughly 1,100 followers ago. I received 10 asks and completed 9 of them. (and 3 of those launched series, two of which have been completed to date). Here is the list of those asks with links to the completed fics.

This is the last of those asks. And it's only 15 months late. 😆

The ask was from @harleybeaumont and it was for Leo x smut x nightlife. I decided it was the perfect opportunity to answer all those questions I got about what exactly happened the weekend Riley and Leo met in my Bad Romance universe.

I credit @dcbbw for putting the idea of Riley and Leo in my head in the first place. I have loved writing their dynamic both here and in the Disney Adventure mini-series. I hope you all enjoy it as well.

My other stuff: Master List.

Leo Rys, former crown prince, and current international playboy, made his way through the crowd, searching for prey. The BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn Music Festival was one of his favorite New York events. All summer long, free, outdoors, and full of eligible, hot women.

He had been at loose ends since he’d abdicated the throne. Sailing around the Mediterranean on a cruise ship had been amusing for a little while… until he’d gotten his heart handed to him. Again.

He knew he should be doing something with his life, but he didn’t know what. Not yet. He would give himself a couple of years to have fun, then he would get serious about something.

Meanwhile, he was on the prowl for his next good time.

He spotted her next to the stage. The lead singer was eye fucking her, and she wasn’t discouraging it.

She was wearing a crisscross tie-dyed halter top, her hair spilling down her back in luscious dusky waves as she undulated her body while keeping her eyes locked on the singer.

His focus narrowed. Target acquired.

His eyes flicked to the stage. He was hotter than the lead singer, and he wasn’t stuck performing. His odds of pulling her attention were high. He liked his chances.

She didn’t see him coming. It was loud and her attention was occupied. She jumped when a voice spoke in her ear, “I can play the guitar better than that guy.”

She turned her head to say something snarky, but stopped when her eyes fell on the owner of the voice.

Hot as hell didn’t begin to cover it. He was a fucking Greek God is what he was. Blond hair, blue eyes, muscular build, grey T-shirt straining across his chest.

Blond wasn’t her usual type, she tended toward dark and swarthy. But in his case, she’d make an exception.

He looked like he worked out on the regular. He had dimples when he smiled. Broad at the shoulders, narrow at the hips, and barrel-chested. He checked several of her boxes.

And that accent.

Good humor sparkled in his ocean-blue eyes as he jerked his head toward the stage, then yelled in her ear, “I’m better looking than him, too.”

She flipped her hair back as she gave him an appraising look, then leaned forward to yell back, “Are you competing with him for something?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded his head vigorously.

“Yeah?” Her eyebrows raised, “What?”

He leaned down to put his mouth to her ear again. “Your attention.”

“You want my attention?” She yelled back.

“I do. You know what else I do better than him?”

“What?”

“Fuck.”

She laughed. “How can you possibly know that?”

He pulled out his cell phone. “I have references. Want me to call up a few old girlfriends?”

Her eyes ran over every inch of him before replying, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll give you an interview right now.”

“What would that entail?”

He had barely finished the sentence when she grabbed his face with both hands and brought her mouth to his.

Her tongue tangled with his, and he felt himself sinking.

She tasted like cherries and summer; her lips were soft and lush. Her tongue was insistent, demanding.

He kissed her back with everything he had.

When she pulled away, she grinned at him. “I guess that was okay.”

“Okay? Just okay?”

“I said it was okay. Take the win.”

“I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t expecting it! Can I have a do-over?”

“Tell you what,” she stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his chest, “Take me to dinner and we’ll see where it goes.”

“Fuck yeah!” Leo grinned as he grabbed her by the hand and led her away from the stage.

When they finally got far enough away from the music to talk normally, he introduced himself. “I’m Leo. What’s your name?”

“Riley.”

“Nice to meet you, Riley. What do you want for dinner?”

“Food is usually good.”

“All right, smartass. Food it is!” He stopped next to a red ninja motorcycle and handed her a helmet. “Ready?”

“Nice bike!” She said appreciatively.

“Thanks. I like it.” He put his own helmet on and fastened it.

She climbed onto the back of the bike with his help and wrapped her arms around him.

His abs were rock hard. She snuggled closer appreciatively.

He started the bike, flipped the kickstand up, and leaned into it as the bike surged forward.

Riley squealed in delight as the bottom dropped out of her stomach.

He stopped the bike in front of Fred’s Pizzeria.

She pulled her helmet off and hit him in the back. “Pizza? I can’t eat pizza!”

“Ow! Why not?” he asked as he pulled his own helmet off.

“I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry! We can go somewhere else!”

“Nah,” she jumped off the bike with a laugh, “I’m just fucking with you. I’m not allergic to anything.”

“I…what?” he laughed.

She was already at the door. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You coming or not?”

He shook his head as he climbed off the bike. This girl was trouble with a capital T.

Good thing he liked trouble.

The pizzeria was crowded, so they ended up eating outside, sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk. The conversation was light and flirty, the looks they exchanged were steamy and anticipatory, and the tension that filled the air was thick and thrilling.

“Hey,” he wiped a smear of marinara sauce from the corner of her mouth, “Do you want to get out of here and go for a ride on my bike?”

“Didn’t I already do that? Isn’t that how we got here?”

“All right wiseass, would you like to go for another ride on my bike? Maybe do other things on it…”

“Other things?” Her eyebrows shot up in interest. “What other things?”

Leo jumped to his feet and reached back for her. “Well, come on and I’ll show you!”

She took his hand and before she knew it; they were on his bike again, speeding through the waning evening light, heading away from the city and toward the shore. Cool, ocean air caressed them as they flew down a coastal highway and then a dirt road. He drove around a barricade and brought the bike to a stop on a small, private beach. 

Removing her helmet, Riley shook her hair loose as she asked, “Wasn’t that a no-trespassing sign back there?”

“It’s fine,” He assured her as he pulled his helmet off and tossed it carelessly on the ground before climbing off the bike. “I know the owner.”

He caught her as she slid off the motorcycle, his hands going around her waist as her body bumped into his. He didn’t release her, instead; he pulled her closer. With a cocky grin, he told her, “If you don’t want to make out with me, you’d better say so now.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his grin. “Oh, I was beginning to think you were too chicken to make a move.”

“Too chicken?” He laughed in surprise. This girl had a way of challenging and surprising him, and he liked it. A lot. “I’ll show you too chicken!”

His lips crashed against hers, his grip tightened around her body, and his desire for her became evident as he pressed his body closer to her.

She responded to him as darkness dropped across the beach. One leg went up and wrapped around him as her fingers gripped a handful of his hair. Her head tipped back as his lips traced warm kisses down her neck.

He buried his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply before moving up to nip at her earlobe. She smelled amazing; she tasted amazing, and he needed more. Much more.

His hands worked quickly but gently to pull one item of clothing after another from her body, until she was bare in front of him, her sun-drenched skin gleaming in the moonlight. “My god, you’re beautiful,” he breathed out as he renewed his exploration of her now-naked body. His fingers trailed across silky skin, his tongue caressed taut nipples, and his warm breath sent shivers chasing down her spine. He pulled back with a satisfied smile, pleased with how she trembled under his touch.

“Don’t stop now,” she admonished him, lurching forward to yank his shirt over his head. She gave him a teasing smile before leaning forward and running her tongue up the side of his neck. “It’s only fair if we’re both naked.”

“I cannot fault your logic,” he laughed as he stumbled out of the rest of his clothes. He liked the way she didn’t sit still and wait for his next move. This girl was a firecracker, and he couldn’t wait to watch her explode.

There was nothing between them but the night air as he pulled her back into his arms. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked as she slid out of his arms toward the ground. A moment later, that question was answered as she took the length of him into her mouth.

His hands sank into her hair, his eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back with a heartfelt, “Oh, fuck!”

For several long moments, he lost himself in the overwhelming pleasure washing over him. His entire body tingled from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. She was good at it. Too good. “Stop!” He placed one hand on her forehead and pushed her gently away as he stepped out of her reach.

There was a mischievous, almost predatory glint in her eye as she stood back up. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’re not going to last?”

“Fuck, yes…” he drew in a ragged breath as his mind spun with ideas. His gaze landed on his bike and his eyes lit up with delight. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward it. “Come here.”

“What are we—"

“Hold on,” he put the bike on its center stand and swooped her off her feet.

She was still shrieking with surprised amusement as he deposited her on the seat, facing him. He gave her a confident smirk as he pushed her legs apart and knelt before her.

“I like where this is heading,” she arched her body toward him in invitation.

He did not disappoint. This was a man who knew how to deploy his tongue. Her body twisted and withed as she struggled to keep hold of the bike and not topple off of it onto the ground. The soft warmth of his mouth on her most intimate place filled her with heat as the salt air caressed her exposed flesh.

With an expert flick of his tongue, she lost control and slid forward toward the ground as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed through her body.

She was still throbbing from the orgasm when he scooped her up, put her back on the motorcycle, and hit the start button.

His voice was rough and low as he told her, “Turn around. Straddle it like you’re driving it. Trust me on this.”

She prided herself on her willingness to try anything once. Twice, if I like it, was her motto. She turned so that she was facing forward. Leo scrambled on behind her. His arms circled her waist as his breath brushed against the side of her neck. “Now, hold on to the handlebars.”

She did as she was told, gripping the handlebars to maintain her balance as his hands ran freely over her body. She turned her head back to receive his tongue in her mouth. He broke the kiss to whisper in her ear, “Now lean forward, rub that pretty little pussy against the fuel tank and rev the engine.”

Oh, that was something new.

She pressed her body forward as he entered her from behind. He moved slowly at first, sinking into her an inch at a time. The synthesis of him moving inside her, combined with the vibration of the bike pulsing through her clit, sent spirals of pleasure rippling through her body. She controlled the strength of the vibration with the throttle as Leo’s thrusts became faster, harder, and deeper.  

She let every inhibition she had fall away as she screamed her release into the deepening night. Ecstasy throbbed in her center, then spread in fiery hot ribbons throughout her entire being as the top half of her body arched off the motorcycle, her head coming to rest on Leo’s shoulder as her lower body rubbed against the smooth metal of the tank.

Her complete and utter abandon pushed him over the edge with her. The sound of her cries in his ears, and the sensation of her clenching around him as a squirt of hot liquid coated his cock, destroyed any vestige of control he had left. With one last savage thrust, he exploded inside her with a guttural roar.

“Goddamn,” he gasped when he could speak again. “That was fucking amazing. Marry me?”

She laughed as she turned her body around so that she was still straddling the seat but facing the opposite direction.

He scooted back a little to give her room and once she was fully turned around; he moved back and pulled her into her arms, raining kisses down the side of her face and neck and dropping them along her shoulder.

She squirmed happily under his affections. “I think marriage might be a bit premature.”

“Fine,” he huffed, pretending to take offense. “But at least come back to my room with me. I have more tricks up my sleeve.”

She hooked her arms around his neck. “That I can manage.”

Forty-five minutes later, they were back in his hotel room. She was in his shower, and he was on the phone ordering room service. She requested chocolate sauce and whipped cream and damned if he was missing out on whatever she had planned for those.

He hung up the phone and flopped down on the bed, hands tucked behind his head. Staring up at the ceiling, he let his mind wander a little. He knew they had just met, but he was completely bewitched.

She was mesmerizing. Her fire reminded him of another woman, the one that he hadn't been able to get over. In his whole life, there had only been two women he had been remotely interested in holding onto, and both had slipped through his fingers. Katie had married someone else, and Liv might be in love with his brother.

He had come to realize that his infatuation with Katie had probably been nothing more than a rebound. How does one move on after being dumped the night before you were planning to propose?

He pushed those thoughts away.

Tonight, he had Riley to focus on and he was determined to show her the time of her life.

Who knew? Maybe it was the beginning of something great.

[xbalayage]

could I request “i hate them. i hate them, with their voice, and their perfect hair, and their deep eyes, and …” from the prompt list with silvio?

Silvio/Reader [His POV] Fluff WC: 968 A/N: This is a sequel to another fic I wrote called Bastard. I suggest reading that one first before this one. :)

I had returned home to Benitoite; I did what I needed to do for the old fart and didn't have anythin' much to report on. Truth be told, I saw and heard a couple things: like that woman definitely being Belle and the previous King was dead or I had finally found Valerio after all these years - but I hate the man enough to not tell him any of it. He can get his own hands dirty and figure that shit out. I'm not his damn dog. And of course he wasn't happy about it.

But it's been a month now, and I don't even get why I've been countin' down the days since I last saw you. I didn't even understand why that bothered me so much. I tried biding my time with my usual pleasures; but just like before, it never quenched the internal longing I kept feelin'. I'd drink alcohol like it was water, I'd chug water till the very last drop, spent time with any ol' woman or lady who'd bend over backwards for my time and attention. I'd rain them with my vast amount of wealth and they'd wag their tails happily, wantin' nothing more than to warm my bed at night.

It was never enough, I felt sick to my stomach and repulsed. I could never take enough showers to wipe their filthy marks from my body, never lettin' them stay past the night either. And fucking try as I might, my mind was still on you.

Ugh, I hate her. I hate her, with her voice, and her perfect hair, and her deep eyes, and ... shit, just get out of my head! You weren't even here and you were annoying the crap out of me! But -- is that what it was? I took a good long look in the mirror, I had a talk with my inner self and I realized something. This was fucking stupid.

I packed my shit and hopped onto one of my ships and set sail back to Rhodolite. I knew where you'd be, I'd bet my entire fortune on it. It took a while but the second my eyes set sight on the land known for their roses, my heart started to pick up in pace. Why's my stupid heart racin' the closer I get to seeing you? What I'm feelin' couldn't possibly ... no, it can't be. While in town, I decided to spend some money into the Rhodolite economy and buy roses. I wanted to buy more but my heart stopped the second I saw you from the corner of my eye. Finally, there you were.

And it's almost like you noticed me too, because those deep eyes met mine; ah shit, why's my face burning up and my hands gettin' all clammy now!? I couldn't find it in me to move, but you made that decision for me as your bright smile raced over until you were right in front of me. You... were right in front of me.

"Hello, Prince Silvio! What're you doing here in Rhodolite?" your voice was as sweet as I kept imagining it for a month straight. But before I could respond, you noticed the bouquet of roses in my hands. "What are the roses for?" Ah, I couldn't say they were for you. How would that make me look?

"It's not like I thought about ya or anythin', don't be gettin' the wrong idea. I just happened to have these with me when I ran into you. And I don't need them anymore. Here." I was quick to push them into your arms so you couldn't say no. They weren't gems or anything, this was the best I could get last minute and they were freshly picked. I couldn't comprehend how your eyes began to shine at the sight of them; I offered an easy smile. I missed you smiling at me like that. "Take care of 'em, will ya?"

"They're so beautiful! But why are you giving these to me?" Damn it, don't make me say it while lookin' at me all doe-eyed! Just when I thought I had the heat on my cheeks under control too. You're just too adorable, huh?

"Like I said, I just had 'em and it was just luck that you showed up. So I thought they'd do better with you than with me. Plus they suit ya, I'm not much of a roses guy. And--" I gave pause, just staring at you for a second, trying to find the words I wanted to say next. I closed my eyes to gather the courage. "I'm sorry, a'right? About.. before. I didn't mean it, and I wasn't tryna make you upset."

You looked at me dumbfounded like that was the last thing you expected to leave my mouth. I can't say I blame ya, I was outta line. I just want ya to forgive me, I don't think I could take another month not being around you. And as if you were reading my mind, you responded with that sickly sweet smile. "I didn't think you remembered or that it even mattered. I didn't expect that of you," you paused to smell the roses before continuing, "I accept your apology, Prince Silvio."

I smiled, genuinely smiled. You've got me wrapped around your little finger, don't you? "So, what do you say 'bout me takin' you out? I'm not in town for long, how about it?"

This heart racing feeling must've meant something because it never stopped the moment I was with you. It persisted the entire time too. My heart felt lighter however, my throat didn't feel as painful anymore too. Heh, is this what love felt like? I wouldn't question it for now - just being able to see ya again was enough.

taglist; @nightghoul381, @yvelk, @celiciaa, @drachonia, @alvieeru, @aquagirl1978, @here-for-gilbert, @widowbunny, @exhausted-courtroom-mom, @randonauticrap, @maries-gallery, @violettduchess, @strawberry-scum, @tele86, @lunaaka