“Because True And Sincere Friendships Can Transcend Space And Time, Can Last Longer Than A Lifetime,”

Rouge meets Roger a few months after she enters to the New World. He's funny, flirts with her endlessly, but more importantly, he has a ship. So she flirts back, lets him buy her a drink or two, and at the end of the night, she steals his ship. And his straw hat for good measure.

Roger chases her to the docks, his crew behind him, and by the time he gets there, Rouge has already cast off. Roger's fingers almost close around her wrist, a ghostly touch. The wind rushes through her sails, and Rouge blows Roger a kiss as she laughs away from the island.

A few weeks later, Rouge has all but forgotten about Roger, except for the fact that she's living on his ship. She could sell it and buy one more suited to her needs — a smaller one for starters, living alone on a ship that big feels like a ghost ship — but something's stopping her. There's life everywhere she looks, memories, of Roger and his crew. She almost feels bad for stealing it, not just the ship but what it represents.

But Rouge lives her life without regrets and it's not like she's going to turn back now.

Life goes on and so does Rouge.

Roger catches up with her the next day.

Rouge wanders the streets of the city, restocking her supplies to leave. The island was pleasant enough, with long sandy beaches, but adventure awaits. The air pressure increases as she exits a store and Rouge swallows to clear her aching ears, watching the clouds for any sign of a storm.

The danger does not come from the sky.

The crowd parts around him instinctively, and Rouge stares into his gray eyes. That's where the real storm is, dangerous and beautiful. Roger smiles, Rouge starts running.

They run through the city, between market stalls and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Rouge almost lets Roger catch up with her once or twice before running out of his reach again. Adrenaline and joy flow through her veins, giving her wings. But when she reaches the port to set sail again, his crew is already there, aboard her ship.

Rouge stops abruptly and Roger lands next to her, laughing cheerfully. Jolly Roger, they call him. The pirate who laughs all the time, even when his sails are red with blood. Rouge wonders if she made a mistake.

"It's been a long time since I've had this much fun," Roger says, and there's a sort of breathless happiness to him that makes his eyes sparkle.

Rouge, who expected self-righteous anger and sharp steel, drops her hand from her dagger in surprise. His first mate scolds Roger, telling him that they had already lost their ship once because of him but Roger continues to laugh.

Rouge sees her opportunity. "Do you want to keep this going?"

The glint of interest in Roger's eyes tells her she's already won. The first mate throws his hands up in exasperation.

"What do you propose?"

"A little challenge, if I can keep your hat for twenty-four hours, you let me go and pay my bill at the bar. If not, I'll give you everything back and I'll even work for you while I pay off my debt."

Roger crosses his arms in front of him, smirking. "But I already got my ship back."

"I'll steal it again then," Rouge replies, matching his smile.

Roger's smile, if that's possible, widens further. His crew groans in frustration behind him, as if they already know what their captain is going to do. The first mate pulls out a bottle of rum and settles down on deck.

"On one condition, I get my hat back no matter what the outcome."

"You think I can win?" Rouge asks, raising an eyebrow. She knows she's going to win, but it's surprising that Roger accepts, thinking she has a chance.

"I wouldn't dream of underestimating you. I know what you're capable of, my flower," Roger replied grandiloquently, bowing to her.

"If that's it," Rouge whispers in his ear, making him shiver. "The twenty-four hours start now."

And she runs away again.

I love Roger and Rouge so much 😭😭😭

Please send me your headcanons for them or send prompts for me to share them! I haven’t written these two for a while and I want to spread my love again

(You can send for Shakky/Rayleigh or even other ships too!)

What do you mean I have to study instead of writing silly little stories ?

So I wrote maybe 1000/1500 words, but I don't think I'll be able to finish it tonight so I'm going to go to sleep. After much consideration (my sister bullying me), I decided to finish a story I started in June right before watching 15x18 for the first time.

(I needed something cute and fluffy as mental support.)

So if you want, you can go read the first chapter and I'll try to post the second and last chapter this week. But in the meantime, I'll leave you a little snippet because I'm pretty proud of myself.

Castiel watched the scene silently, a feeling of pure contentment washing over him like a ray of summer sunshine, warm and comforting. The kind of sunshine that cats lounged under outside the library windows. Castiel met Dean's amused gaze, his irises sparkling like a breeze of wind in the spring leaves, and his smile grew even wider if that were possible. Dean's eyes softened, smile lines deepening at the corners of his eyelids. Castiel had seen humanity crawl out of the water, empires rise and fall into dust, and the creation of the seven wonders of the world. But nothing was as beautiful as the man in front of him.   (He might have missed not being able to see Dean's soul anymore — the one that was so deeply entwined in his grace and his flesh and his being that it could no longer be separated from him, a beacon of light in the darkness of the Empty and the pain of Hell — but it shone so brightly in Dean's every action that Castiel could see it every day.) (That Castiel could fall in love even more every day.)

I need the people's opinion, tonight do I study or do I write something for Destiel Day?

As a writer, receiving long comments with quotes and rambles is the best feeling in the world. There's nothing wrong with hearts, keyboard smashes or even silent readers, but the energy boost to keep writing that some of the comments I've had have given me is incomparable.

And as a reader, I often read my favourite fanfics on my laptop with two tabs open to comment my thoughts on real time. It works great for me !

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

“I'm on Team Winchester now,” Meg explained, filling two shot glasses with vodka. “Or at least Team Kick-Crowley’s-ass-and-give-Sam-his-soul-back.”

“I don't buy it,” Jo retorted acidly. “You've whored yourself to Azazel and Lucifer. Why not Crowley too?”

There was a flicker of surprise in Meg's eyes, her memory of Jo probably no longer matching the woman before her. But Jo had died and been reborn, all sharp edges and broken angles. Full of anger and grief.

“Because I have morals, even for a demon,” Meg replied, brushing her fingernail across Jo's cheek. “Also, he tried to kill me. Multiple times. Call me difficult, but I don't find that very attractive in a leader. In a lover, on the other hand—”

“ You’ve tried to kill me,” Jo interrupted her, grabbing her hand in hers and twisting her wrist to keep it away from her face.

“And I'm very glad I didn't succeed,” Meg replied with a smirk, her eyes roaming over Jo’s body.

Thank you all for your jokes about the opening ceremony. My family thinks I'm exceptionally funny tonight. Great teamwork.

I've Fallen For You

“Evans, did you come to wish me luck?” James teased good-naturedly. There was only good-natured humor and genuine friendship in his voice. Mary wanted to hex him anyway. 

"Sorry, Potter," Lily retorted, breezing past him and straight to Mary. "My heart's already taken." 

And Mary had no doubt that Lily really meant it, just not in the same way Mary did. Not when Mary wanted to warm Lily's frozen skin with kisses, to lose herself in Lily's lavender shampoo for hours.

"I can't compete with that," James replied with a wink, ushering the rest of his team outside. "Try not to make my star chaser late, Lils."

"I thought I was your star chaser!" Marlene protested, not before sending Mary an amused and very pointed look. Mary should never have said anything to her, fucking best friend and fucking Sirius Black with his fancy firewhiskey.

Mary didn't bother to listen to James's answer, because Lily approached her with a small smile. A smile Lily reserved only for Mary, as if Mary were the most precious thing in the world.

“Hi,” Lily whispered into the silence of the locker room. If Mary thought she'd shut out the outside world before, she was sorely mistaken. There was only Lily left — Lily and the star-shaped scar behind her ear, Lily and the ring on her index finger she shared with Mary, Lily and the warmth of her breath against Mary’s lips. Lily, Lily, Lily. “How are you feeling?”

Mary felt as if there was no more air in the room, but she managed to answer in a low voice, like a secret between them. “Perfect now that you're here.”

Snippet Sunday !!

What do you mean I'm finally writing for Children of the Sea again? To celebrate, here is a little snippet from the next chapter, without the names obviously so as not to spoil anything.

Publication date is tentatively set for December 25th. A little Christmas present.

"The ties that bound them together were forged in the heat of battle, sharp and broken metal melding to create the most powerful weapon of all. A crew, a family. Through blood, sweat, and tears. To the ends of the ocean."

Shout-out to multilingual writers who are writing in their second (or third and so on) language.

The frustration of speaking it fluently, but still having to google basic words when you're writing.

The absolute joy of finding a word that sounds just perfect and conveys exactly what you mean.

Doubting all your grammar and being afraid to post it or even send it to a beta reader.

The euphoria of someone calling your use of this language, that is not your mother tongue, beautiful.

I Will Carry You On My Shoulders To The End Of The Road — PART III: DREAMS

"Beckman?" Luffy asked weakly, his voice stuck in his throat.

"I'm here, kid," Beckman replied, relief relaxing his entire body. "I'm here."

Luffy clutched at Beckman’s shirt, his shaking hand clenched into a fist around the fabric and refusing to let go. Tears pricked Luffy’s eyes and his lips trembled. “I didn’t cry, I promise.”

“I saw that,” Beckman smiled, closing his arm around Luffy, enveloping him in an embrace. “But you can cry if you want to, especially if it hurts.”

“Good,” Luffy said shakily, tears streaming down his cheeks freely, “because it really hurts.”

“I know, you were very brave. How about we go back to Makino now?” Beckman asked, gently running his hand over Luffy’s back. “She’s very worried about you.”

Luffy nodded wordlessly and Beckman helped him onto his back, his head immediately coming to rest on his shoulder. Beckman set off, his stride long and steady, as Luffy wrapped his hands around his neck to keep from falling. The breeze blew gently, turning the large blades of the windmills along the path to the village.

In the distance, the sun disappeared behind the ocean horizon in a green flash, the moon already rising to take its place. For a moment, only the sound of Beckman's footsteps and Luffy's occasional sniffles broke the natural stillness of the night, a comfortable silence stretching between them. Luffy was not a silent child by any means but to those who knew how to listen, his silence spoke as much as his words.

Luffy leaned against Beckman, exhaustion seeping heavily into his bones and Beckman let him. The rock the waves came to rest on.

“Shanks is stupid,” Luffy finally said, his voice muffled by Beckman’s shirt.

Beckman chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter making Luffy laugh as well, albeit faintly. Well, it was a start. 

“Nothing new here. But you know he cares a lot about you, right?”

Beckman felt Luffy nod, and even without seeing him, he could imagine Luffy puffing his cheeks in protest.

“It’s a lot of work being the captain,” Beckman continued. “So if you can, you should forgive Shanks for being stupid sometimes.”

“Why doesn’t he want me to come with you guys?” Luffy protested in a whiny voice. “I know I can’t swim, but I’ve been learning how to fight.”

Beckman hesitated for a moment, weighing his words in his head. Luffy, through his kid’s eyes, only saw the childish stubbornness that Shanks projected. And he was right in a way, but Beckman was the one who had found Shanks after Loguetown. He knew his captain.

But Beckman had been Shanks' protector for almost a decade, and that included his secrets. It was up to Shanks to decide what he shared with whom he wanted.

"Captain has his reasons," Beckman said instead. "And maybe he'll explain them to you one day, but for now, try to tell yourself that he wants the best for you."

"It's not easy when he spends his time making fun of me," Luffy retorted petulantly, before repeating. "Shanks is stupid."

"You'll just have to show him what he's missing by becoming a better captain than him when you grow up," Beckman replied amused.

They finally reached the first houses on the edge of the village and Beckman saw Makino in the distance, sitting on the steps of the bar, waiting for them to return. Shanks was with her, his arm around her shoulders, and looked up as he felt them coming.

"I'm going to!" Luffy declared loudly, straightening up and almost falling. "I'm going to become the Pirate King!"

"That's the spirit," Beckman complimented him.