Heather Coleman is used to seeing and talking to spirits; after all, she has been doing it since she was a toddler. But it's definitely a surprise when one comes forward and asks for a favor - she wants Heather to find her son, Erik. *cover credit: ItsMeBethanyT

Previous title: The Fighter When Hawk and Hazel meet on a plane, they made a deal. Tell all, no judging, make out afterwards, and they will never see each other again. But when they are thrown together after the flight and learn that they live not two hours away from each other, the deal changes. "So, here's the thing," he started in a rough voice. She swallowed and now it was her turn to inspect his lips. "You think I'm hot. I think you're smoking hot. Why be bored when we both know that we could spend the next four hours releasing this crazy sexual tension that'll only build." Copy rights and credit to NicoleKristy

The best fighter pilots all called to one mission, all called back to Top Gun. Taught by the best of the best to become better. Thistle returning to Top Gun and seeing pilots shes not seen for years, Hangman, Phoenix and Rooster. One look into the dark eyes of Bradley Bradshaw is bringing back complicated memories and feelings. Top Rankings: #1 in Maverick #1 in BradleyBradshaw Started: 7th of June 2022 Completed: 31st of July 2022

"So, then you are who I think you are?" I ask. He pulls the scarf down again to expose his mouth and gives me a wry smile. "Depends on who it is you think I am, I suppose." His face gives nothing away but there's a twinkle in his eye. I bite my lip feeling shy all of a sudden. "Um, I'm Francesca. My friends call me Frankie." I tell him. If it's not him then I can be on my way and home in ten minutes and he'll be just a lunatic hiker who picked the wrong month to go explore the great outdoors. Then he'll freeze and die and I'll have a strangers death on my conscience and not the death of an A-list actor I've had a crush on for ten years. "Nice to meet you Frankie," he says. "I'm Tom. But my friends call me Tommy. I'd shake your hand but I reckon I might lose it you know? It's probably halfway gone already." He flexes his fingers to check the life in them. And I'm no longer calm. Ok. So this was happening. I'd been stopped by a hitchhiking Tom Hardy on a remote desolate island in the middle of a bloody snowstorm. You just never knew the minute did you? ****************************************************** Just a fun A/U FanFic about the god that is Tom Hardy. This is A/U. Tom is not married in this universe. In my fantasy universe he's married to me. In another universe he's a sexy pirate. In another universe he's the emperor of a kingdom of dogs (woof) ... you get the gist. IT'S A VALENTINES FANTASY. Hope you enjoy! Please remember to vote! ❤❤❤

❝Come take a walk on the wild side Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain You like your girls insane So choose your last words, this is the last time 'Cause you and I, we were born to die❞ ---- History will always speak of how desperately Aemond Targaryen wanted a dragon. But it will also say how desperately he needed Visenya Velaryon.

❝a pure blooded targaryen shall be more feared than all the dragons in westeros.❞ ──────────── ╰─➤ 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 ..⃗.❄️•̩̩͙⁺゜ 𝐈𝐍 which alerhya targaryen has to choose between family and love. ..⃗.❄️•̩̩͙⁺゜ 『 completed as of october 27, 2022 』 『 aemond targaryen x targaryen!fem!oc 』 ──────────── © everssance 2022

𝗙𝗲𝗿𝗻𝘄𝗲𝗵 - (𝗇) • 𝖦𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖠𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌; 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇. "𝖢𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗅," ♔︎ » Soot purrs against your soft pats. Abruptly, she jerks her head towards the door. You crack open an eye. "What is it?" A grunt and curse answers your question. Soot leaps off onto the floor as you stand. Who the hell could be here at this hour?

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK FIVE ---- Tryst (noun): a private romantic rendezvous between lovers, "a moonlight tryst". ---- Your eyes drifted upwards catching onto the glint of the sword that had saved you and following the curve of the blade upwards until you came to a knarled hand, with dirt under the fingernails. You followed the arm upwards until you reached his face - partly obscured underneath a green and white striped hat. You were able to catch onto blue eyes and the scruff of a beard underneath a mop of blonde hair though. What drew your attention most though, was the crow's wings behind him, flared out and glinting by the light of the sword. You hadn't even heard him swoop down for the approach. For someone who hadn't been seen in over a century, the Angel of Death looked young... too young. But then he was spinning away, wings flapping behind him so that he hovered over the ground as he sliced through anything that came too close for comfort. Even the skeletons a ways away weren't safe from his flames when their zombie counterparts came staggering too close. Soon enough, the dark forest was alight with burning undead creatures, providing a light source for you to stagger up to your feet as the Angel slid his sword back into it's scabbard. You weren't expecting him to round on you like he did, fire in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

𝓐 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕕𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟, 𝕒 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥, 𝕚𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙. ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ "𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕣𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣?" "𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕗𝕖." ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ Technoblade x Reader ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ I'm so sorry to the people who know me and are reading this. Please feel free to print, translate, and share this story to others. It's meant to be shared ❤️

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