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The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.
OCTOBER
The Quidditch Captain's Secret (completed, 7.6k) by Finnicksarchive. Rated G.
Embarrassed at having caught a muggle cold, James Potter decides to weather through his illness alone. His loyal friends agree to keep his condition a secret, but his absence is quickly noted by none other than one Lily Evans. On her search to discover the truth about his seeming disappearance, Lily is confronted with a terrifying reality: she actually cares for the cocky quidditch captain. Eventually, Lily finds James in bad shape, and takes it upon herself to nurse him back to health.
The Clean Up Crew (WIP, 16.9k as of 31 October 2024) by @alittlebitofeverything23. Rated T.
There’s an unspoken rule about hosting a House party: if it’s your party, you’re in charge of cleaning up. Follow James and Lily throughout their years at Hogwarts via House parties, birthday bashes, Slug Club events, and more.
Simmer Until Ready (completed, 3.6k) by @kay-elle-cee. Rated T.
James Potter is not a healer. His is a potioneer—the Order of the Phoenix's lead potioneer, in fact. So when their top field fighter—Lily Evans—comes to him for treatment after a particularly rough mission, he helps the best way he knows how: a vial of freshly-brewed Skele-Gro and a dose of laughter. Written for Jily Week 2024 Day 4: Flip the Script
Stupid T-Shirts (completed, 5.5k) by @kay-elle-cee. Rated E.
The last night on a group vacation, Mary pushes everyone to engage in a tacky T-shirt swap before going out. Suggestive shirts, months of pining, and one particular tequila shot finally lead Lily to reach her breaking point. Drunken kisses can be dismissed and joked about, but this—this would be crossing a line they won’t be able to uncross.
You Know How To Ball, I Know Aristotle (completed, 6.8k) by @wearingaberetinparis. Rated M.
Now that the global superstar, Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Lily Evans and professional football player James Potter are together, they have to juggle the difficulties of a relationship in the public eye. Fresh off her World Tour, Lily Evans arrives at Wembley Stadium one year after James Potter first attended her show, to perform there for one final weekend before heading to the studio to record her next album. Her boyfriend, in the meantime, is off to Germany to play at the Euros for England. How will they ever make their relationship work when Lily is - so the press loves to imply - the least supportive WAG of the tournament?
Between the Desire and the Spasm (WIP, 31.8k as of 31 October 2024) by @uncertainwallflower. Rated M.
Trains are arguably the centre of everything. The sinew of civilisation for muggles and wizards alike. They are where all walks of life converge. Congregate. In synchronised traversal. Shared agony inflicted by the piercing screech of metal on metal, bonding all patrons aboard a carriage. And outside. A passing glimpse of someone you thought you’d never see again. Trains. They change everything.
Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April || May || June || July || August || September
NOMINATIONS OPEN TOMORROW AND WILL BE OPEN TILL NOVEMBER 22ND!
Get reading and submit your nominees for each category! The stories included in the rec list are NOT automatically nominated - if you read and enjoyed one of them, submit it in the categories you think fit it!
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November 2022
poem: prayer for werewolves - stephanie burt
#ameera speaks#bullet journal#bullet journal stuff#november#one more week and ill be caught up to this year#i worked out itll take me 2 months to fully catch up with my current 1 per week#(april and march are blank)#brown
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I'm now OFFICIALLY permanent at my new data analysis job which in addition to being super cool bc I get to autistically play around in Excel for money now ALSO means that I can get my next piercings since I no longer have to wear a headset for ten hours a day and I am vibrating in excitement. I can finally get more holes stabbed into me
#ive been wanting to get more ear piercings for YEARS#but that is not a good idea when you work at a call center#i can FINALLY get my next ones done tho. im gonna be getting two more helix piercings on my left ear (for a total of three)#once they heal enough for me to change the jewelry ill have so many options to make them look cool#i cant really buy a lot of cool jewelry bc im allergic to most metals which is part of why im just sticking to ear piercings#but with them all being in a line like that i can mix different 'plain' pieces in cool ways#three barbells in a line is already gonna look cool but imagine three jeweled studs in a line#or three captive ball rings kinda draped over each other#or MAYBE if i can find one thats the right type of metal even one of those spiral piercings that goes through all of them#the possibilities are endless#after those heal completely (i am NOT gonna have both of my ears healing at once i would like to be able to SLEEP bro)#i plan to get an industrial on my right ear#im SO excited yall ive been waiting for YEARS & now im finally gonna have my plans for my left ear finished hopefully within a week or two#and then in about half a year or so i can get my plans for my right ear finished too#a year after that ill be fully healed and either be completely done or ready for the new ideas i came up with in the meantime#im going to become the cool dyke with a lot of piercings that i was always meant to be 🙏#and healing is gonna be much easier now that my sides are shaved. less chance of getting my hair caught or getting shampoo in it#this is gonna be great#rambling
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Wow wow wow I have not been active at ALL for the past like 3 weeks and I apologize~
#ive been having the busiest school weeks ive literally ever had before#although tomorrow i am officially caught up on midterms so thats something done~#im usually more active than this i swear but yk junior year😞#spacey thoughts#i think ill have some time soon to draw some prompts i got a while ago or ones just floating around in my head#so yea~😎
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[ crawls out of my small little tiny burrow looking like a weird malnourished animal ] you guys are not gonna believe what i caught a hyperfix on
#so liek. i caught up on dungeon meshi a couple weeks ago and oh my god [ vibrates at high frequencies ] im so normal about it#some of my loyal followers have probably seen me try to post art of it and watch it flop . Pretend you didnt see that okau ?!?!?!?#im probably gonna make a general art sideblog eventually#having a single interest be my entire personality for a year and a half and then randomly switching to another thing is real tough#But i believe ill manage . expect some dunmeshi art eventually i think#cant guarantee that its gonna be good i havent had the energy to finish artworks for a while now#but maybe someone out in the world will enjoy shitty halfassed sketches of epic divorce man..#oh yeah i forgot to mention chilchuck is my favourite LMFAOOO#hes just so silly im obsessed w him#so um Ya . ill try to use this blog more but tbh i just kinda keep forgetting to use my pc#and im just Oh so lazy to have to log in and out from one acc to another . So tough so hard ouuhh#text tag
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ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.
161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.
imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.
maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.
on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.
and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"
if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?
when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.
also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?
it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.
#martin blackwood#tma#the magnus archives#tma meta#the magnus archives meta#tma 161#mag161#sage speaks#sage original post#meta#im sure others caught it that i didnt see but listen. i was DEEP in the fandom. people getting it made up maybe 1% of the response i saw#and i had people fighting me for saying it#alcohol cw#alcoholism cw#addiction cw#greatest hits#wonderful news: tma fandom WAS ready to hear me say this!
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When I was 12 I was going to be married and have two children - Kathryne Elizabeth and David Chase.
When I was 9 my mom told me that when she was pregnant with me and took a bath, I’d roll around in her stomach like a dolphin. The thought made me sick.
When I was 17 I was in love with a boy who was a good childhood friend, and I wanted to marry him so bad I chased him away (we haven’t spoken in 13 years).
When I was 15 I kissed a boy for the first time. We dated for six weeks. I kissed him twice more, and the first time he put his tongue in my mouth I gagged.
When I was 16 I told my best friend that I didn’t understand the big deal about sex. In fact, I thought it was kind of gross. She laughed and told me to grow up.
When I was 6 I licked a boy’s desk in school because I wanted to give him cooties. I thought it was something like chicken pox.
When I was 18 I kissed a girl for the first time and thought “oh”.
When I was 14 my friend stayed the night and wanted to know if I wanted to kiss her. I told her no, because she had a boyfriend. She said it didn’t count because we were girls.
When I was 20 my stepmom told me that she thought asexuals were broken or mentally ill in some way. I stormed off to my bedroom and cried, but I didn’t know what I was crying for.
When I was 18 I had sex with two girls. After it was over I lay by myself at the edge of the bed, cold and hollow inside, and didn’t understand what I was so upset about.
When I was 11 I wanted to be a stay at home mom when I grew up.
When I was 19 I had sex with a guy for the first time. I didn’t hate it, was my first thought. My second was that I needed a shower as fast as possible.
When I was 7 I was hugged by someone and screamed because I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t have the words for it back then.
When I was 20 I had a panic attack before my fiancé came over to visit, because I knew we’d be alone and I knew I couldn’t tell him no.
When I was 20 I told him no and it didn’t matter.
When I was 15 I got caught looking up porn on my dad’s laptop. I got in worse trouble because it was gay porn. “You’re just upset with boys right now, you’ll grow out of it.”
When I was 5 my dad would read parts of the Bible out loud every night. He paid special attention to the parts condemning homosexuality, like he knew somehow even then.
When I was 19 I heard the word asexual for the first time, and dismissed it out of hand.
When I was 25 I cradled it to my heart like a balm.
When I was 20 I decided I was never going to have children.
When I was 19 I thought I was pregnant, and decided to kill myself if I was.
When I was 26 I said the words ‘asexual lesbian’ for the first time to myself, and crawled under the covers to hide.
When I was 28 a friend sent me a comic about aromanticism. I saw all the parts of me that were on display there and decided I wasn’t strong enough to acknowledge it just yet.
When I was 27 I told my friend that the only time I wanted to be married was when I was sick and wanted to be taken care of. The rest of the time the thought terrified me.
When I was 15 I told myself that no one would ever love me.
When I was 29 I decided that I didn’t care.
When I was 13 I thought I knew exactly what my life would be like when I was 30.
When I was 30 I was relieved to have been so wrong.
#happy birthday month to me#and late pride i guess#idk i was thinking about all the words i didn’t have as a teenager and all the ways i tortured myself before i learned them#personal
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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru
synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?
wc. 3.5k
tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread
a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it
previous part / next part / series masterlist
“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”
nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.
she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."
“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.”
nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”
she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.
in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.
initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school.
then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?
nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.
her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone.
and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?
with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.
“–and that’s it basically.”
shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room.
“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.
“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.
except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.
shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.
“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”
“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.
almost.
nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.
“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.
“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.
there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.
shoko must��ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen.
all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.
nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.
it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.
“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”
“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse.
gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).
“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.
nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.
“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.
“to record us study! it’s motivational.”
“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves.
“merry christmas!”
nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.
“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.
“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.
“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”
“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.
she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.
so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.
there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.
the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.
nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.
“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.
“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.
“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief.
“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.
“take your go yu.”
“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.
“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.
nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room.
we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.
“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.
“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.
“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.
“don’t make me compliment him.”
“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”
utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”
you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”
“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself
“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”
utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.
“you’re such an asshole.”
shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”
nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.
although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right.
nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.
“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”
geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”
“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”
the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”
you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”
“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.
“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.
“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.
“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”
“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”
“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.
“are they staying together?”
“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.
“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”
you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”
“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.
nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.
“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.
he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–
“satoru.”
gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.
although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.
“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”
“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away.
like that could’ve changed the outcome.
slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.
he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.
or maybe he could keep it.
gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.
taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen
this tag list is insane ty all for the support
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Part I (here), Part II, Part III (COMPLETED)
Trey Clover vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Jamil Viper x GN! Reader
In which the way to the Prefect’s heart is through their stomach! At least, according to three of NRC’s students…
I got the idea from @recreyomakesdoodles , from this post! Thank you so much, hope you liked it!!💕
Tagging people I think would be interested: @aruis4nosleep , @tinseltina
Warnings: food/eating
Notes: I decided to split this into multiple parts because I never have any restraint while writing and this ended up being long. Enjoy :D
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“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Azul pushed his glasses up, balancing a stack of takeout boxes emblazoned with the Mostro Lounge logo on them. Cold blue eyes met Trey’s golden irises. Trey cleared his throat, shifting a heavy picnic basket from one hand to the other. “What brings you here, Azul? I thought you’d be busy at Mostro Lounge…”
Azul snorted, “the Prefect knows to expect me today. Clearly, you are the one intruding.” Earlier that week, he overheard you wailing to your friends about your upcoming History of Magic exam. Apparently, this unit was on Atlantica’s magical history - a topic that was, unfortunately, giving you trouble.
Fortunately, Azul was a mer who grew up learning the history by heart. Naturally he offered you assistance in exchange for having you taste-test some dishes. And how could he not help a poor, unfortunate fellow student like yourself?
Besides, if he wanted to bring along some personally cooked meals to Ramshackle, under the claim that you both would be there ‘for hours, so you may as well try some foods (that I made!) for the upcoming Lounge menu (that I run)!’, that was nobody’s business. And certainly not Clover’s business.
Trey crossed his arms, easily holding the heavy picnic basket like it weighed nothing. Azul could smell the buttery pastries and powdered sugar through the closed basket lid where he stood. “Riddle sent me to give the Prefect an invitation to the next Unbirthday Party. I thought I’d give them some treats to… sweeten the deal.” Though Trey had a disarmingly pleasant smile with the pun, his eyes bored into Azul’s.
Azul frowned. “That couldn’t have been more than a simple text. Aren’t they friends with your first years, as well?” He asked, remembering your first year friends that he’d turned into anemones.
Trey adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze, a telltale deflection sign that Azul didn’t miss. “Well, it’s more official coming from the Vice Housewarden.” “And I suppose the baked goods are complimentary?” Azul sniffed disdainfully at the basket, “Surely, the prefect needs more than pastries. A proper meal,” he emphasized.
Trey’s eyes narrowed, “a basket of baked goods is better than whatever deal you’d have for them,” he nodded to the boxes Azul carried. “Everyone loves a good old fashioned pastry. Can’t say the same for seafood.” Azul opened his mouth to retort, when suddenly both of their ringtones went off.
IM SO SORRY AZUL!!!!! I got caught up with something, can I come over tomorrow?? I likely won’t be done until later, the headmage has me doing stuff 😭
TREY!!! Tysm for the invite, you didn’t have to go out of ur way to give it in person!! ill definitely be there at the party! 😄 sry I’m not there atm, Crowley wanted me to do something for him
Trey frowned, reading your text. Azul huffed, shouldering the stack of food boxes, muttering “looks like today was a loss.” Trey sighed, “well, it can’t be helped…” he made a mental note to put the pastries in the Heartslabyul fridge and just deliver it to you tomorrow, under the guise of ‘checking up on you’ after working for Crowley. The two of them trudged down the path to the Hall of Mirrors, heading back to their dorms.
The two of them walked in silence until Trey abruptly said, “I don’t know what you want with the Prefect, but I hope you have their best intentions at heart.” Azul turned to give Trey a withering look, “I assure you, when it comes to the Prefect, I have nothing but good intentions.” As he stepped into Octavinelle, Azul smirked and muttered, “especially regarding their heart.” Trey lingered for a bit, staring at the Octavinelle mirror with an unreadable expression. “We’ll see about that,” he said aloud in the empty Hall, then headed back to Heartslabyul.
—•—♣️🐙🐍—•—
Meanwhile, you sighed heavily, collapsing onto the chair. The cafeteria was pretty much empty, save for the random student or two. It was already darkening outside, and you were hungry. Crowley wanted you to do something for him just before lunch, and soon half your Saturday was gone running around NRC. You’d even lost track of time, and missed Azul’s study session and Trey dropping in! You groaned, hearing your stomach growl loudly.
“Prefect? What are you doing here?”
You glanced up, seeing Jamil with a large container of tupperware and other small containers. The delicious scent of curries, labneh yogurt cheese, and freshly made pita made your mouth water. Despite yourself, Jamil caught you looking at the boxed-up food more than once.
“…Crowley had me running errands, and I may have skipped lunch…” your voice grew quiet near the end. Jamil raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “I actually ended up making too much food for Kalim,” he said, moving around the table to sit next to you. “There’s enough for an extra person, and I’ve have already eaten.”
Your eyes widened, and Jamil started dishing out some curry and flatbread for you. Bright-colored curry sauce and chickpeas flooded the platter, wafting a delicious scent. As Jamil ripped a piece of pita, your stomach growl loudly. Your face felt warm. Jamil only chuckled, pushing the plate he’d conjured towards you. “What about Kalim?” You asked, feeling bad. Jamil smiled, “Please, go ahead. There’s enough for Kalim and you.” A warm smile grew on your face, and you gave Jamil a one-sided hug before digging in. “Thank you! You’re my savior!”
As he watched you eat, a tender look grew on Jamil’s face. He shifted the food containers so he could watch you while nibbling on some flatbread. It wasn’t difficult to determine that you were off on Crowley’s whims again - with you running around the school and being gone for several hours. With that in mind, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault if he accidentally made too much food, so he thought he’d drop it off at Ramshackle later. It was sheer luck that you’d dropped by the cafeteria!
You hummed, soaking up some of the leftover curry sauce with your flatbread, “this was delicious, Jamil. Thank you so much.”
Jamil smiled genuinely, but a devious look came into his eyes when you looked back at your plate. “Please, Prefect, allow me. Wait here.” He took the plate, going to the kitchens to box up some food for you to take back. Walking back to you, he handed you the container, “It’s getting late, I can walk you back to Ramshackle.”
The two of you set off, with you holding some of Jamil’s boxes. “This was… really sweet of you, Jamil,” you smiled. You knew Jamil always had his hands full, whether it was taking care of Kalim or managing literally everything else. Maybe the food was making you gush, but you were definitely grateful for the impromptu meal. As you opened the door to Ramshackle, you gingerly handed the boxes back to him.
“Ah, wait,” he shuffled them and held a large one out to you. “This one is yours.” Your eyes widened, “Jamil, this is a lot-“ “Please.” Your eyes met his dark grey irises, and warm gratitude filled your chest. “Jamil, I… I really don’t know what to say. I have to repay you somehow-“ Now that was what he wanted to hear.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to try making some new dishes,” he glanced at you. “I’ve been needing someone to taste test them, and Kalim won’t be available…” You nodded eagerly, “Of course! I’d love to help you!” You said your goodbyes, and as the door shut behind you, Jamil had a calculating smirk on his face. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.
————————————————————♣️🐙🐍
Thanks for being patient everyone!! Hope you enjoyed this part, reblogs and comments are forever appreciated 💕
lmk if anyone wants to be added to the taglist! Take care shrimpies~ 😘
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#heartslabyul#twst trey#trey clover#trey clover x reader#octavinelle#twst azul#Azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#twst jamil#scarabia#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#mostro lounge#tw: food#tw: eating habits#tw: eating#calcified writing
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A Comprehensive Analysis on Eric Harris, 3.
Disclaimer: This analysis/psychoanalysis is limited only to analysis as a means to reflect and understand the people involved. It is strictly informative. Just like all of my posts, I am detached from the media I write about and solely focus on the people to understand their psychology, for others to gain insight. There is no room for me to romanticize or glorify anything I write because I am only here to explain. I understand and research, but I do not condone. Thank you.
note: This is all solely based on independent research. If I may be wrong with the medical aspects of this post, please correct me. I would appreciate it a lot.
Fluvoxamine Maleate
Just a few days before the shooting, Eric was promptly rejected from his application to serve in the marines. Despite his desirable qualities, he was rejected for the sole reason of being tested positive for consuming a prescripted drug after rejecting that he was off any medication. With a trace of Luvox in his system, theories speculate that the drug's side effects played a role on the events that have transpired. Luvox is a medication prescription drug that is used to treat mental illnesses such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), anxiety, depression, and others. While there are positive effects, the downside are heightened sensations of dread, irritation, depression, and arising violent behaviors. It also has a chance to increase manic symptoms, especially if taken in particularly large doses.
Anti-depressant usage, effects of overdose, and detoxification
When taken over the prescribed dosage, Luvox can lead to increased agression and suicidal ideation and tendencies. Eric was in anger management therapy after being on probation alongside Dylan for attempting to steal a vehicle containing thousands worth of valuable electronics and tools. After getting caught, Eric openly expressed his difficulties in managing his anxiety and explosive anger issues that his counselor said, "he frequently blew up and often cried." Revealing that this influences his homicidal and suicidal thoughts, so he was prescribed Fluvoxamine, which is a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRIs). These drugs increase the capacity of the brain to receive serotonin.
According to an interview with Eric's friends, they speculate that Eric was off his medication completely for sometime. Abruptly stopping medication can lead to the development of a more violent response. For some people, drugs are able to fix their chemical imbalances, but it can also lead to withdrawal symptoms of taken for over the duration of 6 weeks. Abruptly discontinuing anti-depressants can lead ro rebound depression or relapse. Symptoms may return stronger than before. Furthermore, SSRI's such as Luvox and Prozac take about 5 days to linger in one's system before subsequently washing off.
In a period of 11 months, Eric and Dylan have been under a juvenile detention program at Jefferson County district — this was in 1998, just a year before the shooting. They were allowed to leave the program by early February 1999. After finishing, Eric wrote a letter contained in his juvenile diversion program file. He states, "I learned that thousands of suggestions are worthless if you still believe in violence."
After public demands for stricter regulations on SSRIs after the tragic shooting, Luvox was temporarily banned in 2002. By 2008, drug manufacturers had reformulated Luvox to a controlled-release version specifically designed to treat OCD, excluding indications for depression or anxiety. Subsequently, the FDA approved Luvox CR for the treatment of OCD. The label does not explicitly prohibit prescribing it to the pediatric population, it notes that the smallest dose "may not be appropriate" for children, without providing further explanation.
Eric was about 17 at the time of taking the medication, which means he is part of the pediatric population. Though it's still unclear if he was taking normal doses for a long period of time or taken more than what was prescribed, it is clear that there was negligence with prescribing a child a SSRI that has the posibility of worsening their already apparent symptoms.
Columbine was really a case that opened the public's eyes into the dysfunctional aspects of society and institutions, transcending even to the medical field.
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : FORBIDDEN INTENTIONS: :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Old!Stepdad!Logan Howlett x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: i don’t even know what to call this genre tbh….
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Age Gap: Significant age difference between characters, Manipulation: Themes of manipulation and deception, Romantic Tension: Intense romantic and sexual tension, Mature Content: Contains mature themes and emotional intensity. Family Dynamics: Complex and potentially distressing family relationships.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You thought Logan, your mother’s husband, was a blessing for her in her later years. But after her passing, you discover he married her to get close to you. Now, as Logan’s relentless pursuit of you unfolds, you’re torn between feelings of betrayal and an unexpected, unsettling attraction.
Based on this request.
YOU DIDN’T HATE LOGAN. In fact, when your mother introduced him into your life five years ago, you were almost relieved. After all, it had been just the two of you for years, and seeing her with someone in her later years seemed like a blessing. She deserved to be happy, and Logan seemed to care for her.
At least, that’s what you thought.
You were in your early thirties, and your mom—well, she was getting older. Logan was retired from whatever military past he had. You knew he was more than just a regular guy, but she never really told you much about him beyond that. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you, something… intense.
“Good to see you, kid,” he said gruffly when you visited home that weekend from university.
“I'm not a kid, Logan,” you corrected him, smiling as you placed your bags down. “Master's degree, remember? I'm practically a professor by now."
He raised an eyebrow, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Yeah, sure. But you’ll always be the kid to me.” His voice was rough, like gravel under boots, and there was always an edge to it, something that made your skin prickle whenever he was around. Still, you brushed it off as just him being… well, Logan.
~
Your mother had taken ill shortly after you started your master's program, and you made the journey back home every few weeks to check in. Logan was always there, looming. He never gave you much space, but it was the way he looked at you that had started to make you uncomfortable.
One evening, after your mother had fallen asleep early, the two of you sat in the living room. The TV was on, but the noise was nothing but background to the silence hanging between you both.
“So, you still seeing that guy from your class?” Logan asked suddenly, his eyes not leaving the TV screen, though you knew he wasn’t really paying attention to it.
You blinked, surprised at the question. "What? How do you know about that?”
He shrugged, finally glancing over at you. “Your mom mentioned it.”
“Uh, no, actually,” you said, shifting a little in your seat. “It didn’t work out. We weren’t really… compatible.”
“Hmph,” Logan grunted, his lips quirking slightly. “Good.”
“Good?” You echoed, confused. “Why is that good?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze suddenly piercing as he looked at you. “Guy wasn’t right for you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. There it was again, that intensity. His eyes seemed to bore into you, not in the way a father figure would watch over his stepdaughter. No, there was something else, something darker.
You swallowed hard. “Logan, what—what do you mean by that?”
“You’re smart, kid,” he said lowly, leaning back against the couch. “You can figure it out.”
“I—” The words caught in your throat, and you stood up abruptly. “I should check on Mom.”
~
Months passed, and your mother’s condition worsened. Logan had become a constant presence in your life, more than you ever wanted or expected. You started to notice how often he would drop by your apartment in the city. Always with an excuse—"Just passing through," or "Wanted to make sure you’re doing alright."
It was unnerving.
“Logan, you don’t have to come all this way just to check on me,” you told him one afternoon as you caught him lingering by your door again.
He leaned against the doorframe, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Sure, I do. Can’t have you out here all alone, can I?”
“I’m an adult,” you snapped. “I can handle myself.”
He chuckled softly, his eyes trailing over you in a way that made your stomach twist. “You can try. But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”
~
Your mother passed quietly in her sleep one cold winter evening. The grief was sharp, cutting through you like a knife, and while you were thankful she no longer had to suffer, the loss left a deep void in your heart. Logan was there at the funeral, of course, standing stoically beside you.
“She loved you,” you murmured through tears, staring down at the casket. “She really loved you, Logan.”
“She did,” he agreed, his voice low and steady.
You turned to him, something breaking inside of you. “What am I supposed to do now? She was everything.”
He stepped closer, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You got me.”
The words felt wrong. He wasn’t the comfort you needed, but he was all you had left.
~
Weeks passed after your mother's death, and Logan stayed around. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself, he was there. At your apartment, waiting when you returned from class, sitting at your usual café, casually slipping into your life in ways that you could no longer ignore.
One night, after a particularly long day of classes and work, you found him waiting in your kitchen.
“How the hell did you get in here?” you demanded, your heart racing as you dropped your keys onto the counter.
He shrugged. “Door was unlocked.”
“Bullshit,” you spat. “I locked it. Logan, you can’t keep doing this.”
His expression darkened, and he stepped closer. Too close. “I’ve waited long enough, kid. Your mom’s gone. There’s nothing stopping us now.”
Your blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I stuck around for her? For all those years?”
You took a step back, your mind reeling. Logan's gaze was locked onto yours, the truth crashing into you like a tidal wave. Every warning sign, every lingering look, the possessive edge in his words—everything suddenly made sense, but it was too much. Your heart raced as the room seemed to close in on you.
“You didn’t—” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper. “You didn’t stay for her?”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t bother pretending anymore. Instead, he stepped forward, his presence filling the small space between you, suffocating. "She was a means to an end. I stayed for you."
The weight of his confession hung in the air, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You wanted to scream, to push him away, but the raw intensity in his eyes pinned you in place
“Logan, this isn’t right,” you managed, your voice trembling. “She was my mother. You were her husband.”
His lips curled into a smirk, one that made your skin crawl. “Your mom knew what she was getting. But she’s gone now. You and I… we don’t have to pretend anymore.”
You shook your head, stepping back until your back hit the counter. "No, this is insane. There’s a huge age gap, Logan. You’re—you're like sixty, and I’m—"
“Thirty-two,” he interrupted, his voice deep and rumbling. “You’re an adult. Hell, you’re smarter and more capable than most people I’ve ever met. And you think I give a damn about age? I’m older than you know, sweetheart. I’ve seen and done things you can’t imagine.”
You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. Everything about this felt wrong, but at the same time, Logan had always been a larger-than-life figure in your world. There was something magnetic about him, something that pulled you in even when you didn’t want it to.
“This is twisted,” you whispered, trying to find your footing, to regain some control over the conversation. "I... I need time."
Logan’s expression softened—just a little. He stepped back, giving you space, but his eyes never left yours. "Take your time," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "But I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever."
~
In the weeks that followed, you tried to distance yourself from him, to process what had happened, but Logan was relentless. He never pushed you physically, but he was always there, lurking at the edges of your life. His presence was inescapable, a constant reminder of the tension that simmered between you both.
You thought about moving cities, quitting your master’s program, anything to put more space between you, but you knew Logan would find a way to follow. He always did.
One night, as you sat in your apartment, your mind racing with thoughts of escape, there was a knock at the door. You didn’t have to guess who it was.
When you opened the door, Logan stood there, his expression unreadable. For once, there was no smirk, no cocky attitude. He looked... tired.
“What do you want, Logan?” you asked, your voice tight with frustration.
“I came to talk,” he said simply, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I wonder why,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You dropped a bomb on me, and you expect everything to be fine?”
He sighed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I never expected it to be easy. I knew what I was doing wasn’t… conventional.”
“Conventional?” You let out a bitter laugh. “Logan, you married my mother just to get close to me. Do you have any idea how messed up that is?”
“I didn’t plan it that way,” he said quietly, his voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. “But once I met you, I couldn’t shake it. Your mom was lonely, and I knew I could take care of her, make her last years happy. But it was always about you. From the start.”
Your breath hitched at his confession. There was a part of you that wanted to scream at him, to tell him how wrong all of this was. But another part—one you didn’t want to admit existed—was drawn to him. You hated it, but it was there.
“Logan,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “this isn’t something I can just accept. You manipulated my mother. You’ve been manipulating me. How can you expect anything between us after that?”
He took a step closer, and this time, you didn’t move away. His eyes softened as he looked down at you, the weight of years behind them. “Because we’re the same, kid. You know it as much as I do. You’re not scared of me—you’re scared of how much you feel this too.”
You felt your pulse quicken, his words cutting through every wall you’d tried to build. "Logan…"
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I’ve waited long enough. I’ll wait as long as you need. But don’t think I’m gonna give up on this. On us."
His touch was surprisingly tender, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into it. You hated how good it felt, how much you craved that connection, even if it came from him.
“Maybe…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, “maybe I need more time.”
He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
With that, Logan turned and walked toward the door, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, heart racing, and mind reeling. You watched him go, knowing that this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want it to be.
🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @wolviesgirl @slowlikehoneyyy @boomveronika @lanabobana @shybluebirdninja @corvusmorte @seamlessepiphany @allmyn1ghts @chronicallybubbly @lex-the-flex @evasmlp @whxtewolf
If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!!🫶
Also do we need a part 2?
#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#old man logan x reader#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x you
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Off Day Or Day Off
Summary: Reader has a bad day due to a chronic illness they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.
Tw: headache, mild pots, exhaustion / fatigue, pain medicine, mentions of passing out
Words: 2129
A/n sorry for such a long absence I got diagnosed with POTS so I have been in and out of the hospital for appointments for the past few weeks. So, this fic is kinda just me projecting. Also, POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (for those who don’t know). Let me know if you want a part 2.
You knew today was going to be hard when you opened your eyes to see your alarm had already been going off for a good half hour.
Whilst not something that was unusual for you, it did pose some insight into how the rest of the day may go. Taking a deep breath, you gathered the strength to sit up, still feeling exhausted to your bones and wanting nothing more than to lay back down and keep sleeping.
Reaching out to smack the alarm in order to finally get it to shut up, it took a few tries to finally hit the button.
You were tired despite having slept over the recommended eight hours. You were tired when you woke up and you had no doubt you would be tired when you went to sleep.
Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you braced yourself to stand up. Once on your feet you stayed upright for a good half a second before sitting back down hard.
Yep, today was an off day.
Trying again you managed to stick the landing this time, but still had to pause to wait for the patches in your vision to clear up first before doing anything.
You were vaguely aware of a dull ache in your temples and a general feeling of malaise and fatigue across your whole body.
You leant against the wall of your bedroom while pulling on some fresh pant and swapping out your pyjama shirt for a clean and presentable top.
You fought to stay upright while hopping around to stick the socks over your cold feet.
Throwing your notebook and pencil case into your backpack before pulling your laptop off the charge you added it to your bag and slung it over your shoulder, not bothering to do up the zip just yet.
Scanning the room your eyes caught on the small medical pouch were you had left it the day before. Groaning you circled back to grab it and triple check it was stocked with extra electrolyte packets before tossing it into your already full bag.
Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs as you plodded down to the kitchen, the voices of your little sister and mother only seeming to aggravate your growing headache.
You gripped the railing as you descended the stairs just in case your fatigue flared anymore than it already had.
As you shuffled into the kitchen you distantly listened to your mum wish you a good morning. Feeling tired and slightly annoyed at the whole situation you mumbled something incoherent back to her.
Scarlett had been your mother for almost ten years now after the adoption had gone through. You had met on the set for one of her earlier marvel films and due to your less-than-ideal situation and close bond with the actress she had adopted you.
It hadn’t been until a few months into living with her that she begun to take notice of your fatigue and various other issues. She had been with you every step of the process to get diagnosed and despite your fears she had stayed by your side.
You had been managing your tachycardia for a long time now and the symptoms of POTS weren’t as intense as they once were. However, from time to time you still had flare up which caused you a lot of heart ache and suffering.
As you slid into your place at the kitchen table Scarlett set down a plate of bacon and toast for you whilst she continued listening to the constant chatter stemming from your younger sister.
Scarlett nodded along with Rose’s story as she observed you closely. She had noted something was off almost straight away and knew you were doing your best to keep up a front.
It was Scarlett’s day off and as such she was tasked with taking Rose to school as Colin had headed into work early for a meeting with the writers.
You weren’t too interested in the food your mother had given you. Despite loving bacon and usually chomping it down with gusto you felt gross and tired.
Scarlett took note of your slow pace and droopy eyes as she took roses dishes back to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.
Scarlett had been trying to help you get better at advocating for yourself by simply making you ask for her help. She hoped it would help you speak up for yourself more now that you had more recognised needs. However, she also knew when to step in and simply help if you didn’t ask first.
She frowned at the sight of your backpack slung over the back of the chair knowing full well she didn’t want you going to uni if you were unwell.
As you continued to poke at your food with a fork and a bored expression that barely masked the exhaustion Scarlett sent rose to get dressed.
“Alright munchkin, what’s going on?” Scarlett said sitting down next to you.
“‘M fine mum. Just tired, I didn’t sleep well.” You grumbled still mining away at the edge of the slightly burnt toast with your fork.
Scarlett frowned as she knew you had been asleep before ten after she had poked her head in at around nine fifty to see if you were up.
“In that case maybe you should stay home today and get some rest sweetheart.” Scarlett said softly.
“No. No, I’m ok.” You said shaking your head which wasn’t a great idea as the patches reappeared in your vision.
“Alright.” Scarlett said admitting defeat for now. “I have to take rose to school; do you need a lift to uni?” She asked and you nodded pushing away the full plate of food. “Ok then come get your shoes on.”
You nodded again and stood. Just as she had expected Scarlett watched as you swayed on your feet slightly, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision as your hand blindly reached for the table to provide the support you needed dot stay upright.
“Alright. No.” Scarlett said. “Definitely not. You’re staying here sweet girl.”
“But i’m-“ you begun only to be cut off.
“If the next words out of your mouth are “I’m fine.” I’ll make you take the whole week off.” Scarlett said and your lips snapped shut. “Go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll have lizzie come stay with you while I’m out. She has the day off too and before you start, I’m sure she would like to spend the time with you.” Scarlett said before you could protest hindering the younger actresses schedule with your change of plans.
Before you could protest Scarlett gave you a look that kept the words in your throat from leaving.
“You’re not a problem y/n. Lizzie loves to spend time with you, and it makes her feel better to be able to help you out. Plus, I don’t want to leave you here alone in case you need something or pass out.” She said sternly but kindly.
“But I haven’t passed out before.” You grumbled.
“There’s a first time for everything.” Scarlett said. “Now go get comfy while I call Lizzie.” She said pressing a kiss to your head and giving you a light shove in the direction of the living room.
As you settled into a small nest on the couch you begun scrolling through Disney plus before settling on something to watch. You heard Scarlett talking on the phone in the kitchen before she appeared and handed you a water bottle which no doubt was filled with electrolytes. She spoke to Lizzie for a bit longer before coming back once the call was done.
“Drink.” She instructed, nodding to the bottle in your lap. “Lizzie will be over soon. I have to take rose in and then we can have a movie day and see if Lizzie wants to join us.”
“Ok.” You mumbled feeling bad for ruining everyone’s plans.
“None of that. We love you and we would rather spend the day making you feel better than knowing you’re not ok and doing what we planned.” Scarlett said as she picked up roses backpack and grabbed her trainers from the doorway.
Rose came and hugged you goodbye before continuing her endless chatter about something or other as she and Scarlett disappeared out the doorway. Scarlett blowing you a kiss as she left.
Snuggling down into the blankets you felt your eyelids droop as the show played on in the background.
What couldn’t have been more than five minutes later the doorbell rang before the door opened. You knew Lizzie had a a key, but she always rung the doorbell before she let herself in just to let you know it was her.
You heard the door shut and the sound of her taking off her shoes before she came upstairs.
“Y/n?” She called out as she walked down the hallway.
“In here.” You said barely shouting.
A moment later Lizzie entered the room, her face looking a little sad at the sight of you all bundled up and sleepy, your arms wrapped around your water bottle as your eyes drifted shut.
“Hiii.” You mumbled quietly.
“Hi sweet girl. Oh, look at you, it’s not a good day, is it?” She asked as she took the seat beside you on the couch.
“No.” You huffed as you shuffled over into her side.
Lizzie’s hands went straight to your hair as she brushed her fingers through it. She guided your head to her lap and gently began braining locks of your hair. The feeling of her fingers on your scalp relaxed you as your eyes fluttered shut.
“Have some more to drink first baby, then you can have a nap, okay?” She said helping you sit up and sip some of the electrolyte drink before guiding you back to her lap as her hands took their place back in your hair.
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again.
The next time you woke up Lizzie’s hand was still gently massaging your head which was helping with the now whopping headache you had. You shifted slightly prompting Lizzie to look down from the show she had put on and see you were awake.
“Hi sweetheart, how are we feeling love?” She asked softly.
“Headache, tired and lousy.” You mumbled turning your face into her stomach making her chuckle softly at your cuteness.
“That’s no good.” She said frowning now she registered your words. “Want me to get your mum to bring some Panadol and a snack?” She asked and you nodded into her stomach.
Lizzie gently reached down and placed her hands over your ears to shield you from the noise as she began calling out to Scarlett who you hadn’t noticed return.
“Scar car you bring y/n/n some Panadol and a snack!” She called and you faintly heard your mum’s response before Lizzie was prompting you to drink some more of the electrolyte drink in your water bottle.
“Sorry I know this wasn’t what you two wanted to do on ur day off” you said to both actresses when Scarlett came in with some cupcakes, she and rose had baked the day before and a strip of Panadol.
“Honey…” Lizzie said looking sad. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” She said softly.
“Yeah, I can’t get rid of you.” Scarlett joked making all three of you laugh.
When you winced at the noise Scarlett went straight to mum mode as she popped out two of the tablets and put them in your hand before nodding to the water bottle.
“Alright, what are we watching?” Scarlett asked situating herself on your other side and pulling your legs into her lap, so you were laid across the two of them.
“Whatever y/n/n wants.” Lizzie said chucking the remote to you.
“I’m thinking marvel.” You grinned making both women groan in protest.
You put on age of ultron and barely twenty minutes in Lizzie’s gentle head scratches had lulled you back into the arms of sleep.
POTS was hard to live with but with all the people in your life supporting you it was bearable.
Part 2
@barbarasstar @charlie56
#pots syndrome#sicfic#whump#comfort#fluff#marvel#fanfic#scarlett johansson#elizabeth olsen#lizzie olsen#y/n#reader#self insert#scarjo#uni student reader#pots#potsie#reader comfort#hurt/comfort#marvel cast#chronically ill reader#sick#chronic#illness#exhustion#headaches#drink water#tired#fatigue#tachycardia
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The Love Language of Flowers (Yandere OP Shanks/Reader)
I finally remembered what I had forgotten to do once I opened this account -- and that was to share this fanfiction I had wrote on AO3 with you all!
Smut; Yandere ; AFAB
Synopsis :
You were a sickly floral shop owner in an otherwise dreary island. Despite your flowers bringing joy to the island, the villagers never welcomed you with open arms, only accepting you for your coin and products.
When Shanks and his crew come around, the treatment gets worse.
Shanks. He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.
If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.
Chapter 1: Hyacinth - Jealousy
“Come again!” You said cheerfully at the departing guest.
“Yeah, yeah…” The man grumbled as he walked out of your store, slamming the door shut behind him.
You glanced down at your transaction book and sighed, leaning back only to gasp as you nearly knocked over your finest floral vase.
“Oh, dear,” You said breathlessly, stabilizing the wobbly porcelain as fast as you could. With a quick sigh of relief, you shook your head, chastising yourself mentally.
“Sorry, lillies. I didn’t do that on purpose, I swear.”
The flowers in the vase didn’t respond, but you knew they wouldn’t. Being ostracized from the village had left you lonely and turning to flowers for conversation.
They were never known for their hospitality, —you were aware of this when you moved to the island three years ago to find a cure for your illness— but the villagers were even more hostile ever since you had befriended a certain pirate captain and his crew.
Dangerous , a senior woman on the island had warned you, Pirates are no good, heartless ruffians that take and take ‘til there’s nothing left!
But if that were the case, then why were they so nice to you? In the year that you had known them, they graced you with more kindness and hospitality than all of the villagers had ever offered, combined. It always made you happy to see them, and as your relationships deepened, it was harder to watch them go.
Your hand subconsciously moved to touch the bandage at your neck. If only the flowers that remedied your illness were able to grow elsewhere besides the island. Maybe then you could travel, move somewhere far away. But until then, you were content with living your life the way you did.
Your pride and joy was your flower shop. Using the only money you had left from your late father’s inheritance, you opened up your store in hopes of sharing the joy of flowers with everyone around you. The villagers might have disliked you for being an outsider, but they loved your products. So they kept coming back and you were able to keep food on the table.
Today was proving to be a slow day, though. With no orders for floral arrangements, plants, or vases, you found yourself eying your transaction logs wearily again.
The sound of your door chimes ringing quickly caught your attention, and you hopped off from your stool to greet your guest properly.
“Welcome to Floral Feel—-Oh, hi, Red!” Your smile widened into something genuine as a tall, red-haired man approached your counter.
“And hello to you too, Sunshine.” Your heart did double flips at the nickname. You’re the one who started the whole charade, but you couldn’t help but feel funny every time he called you that.
“How’s your day been, Shanks?”
“It’s been alright. My men and I are preparing to make way for the sea next week, so I’ve been busy with preparations.”
“Aw, leaving so soon? Must have had enough of this dreary place, eh?”
“I’d agree, but a certain pocket of sunshine has been making it worthwhile,” He made a show of winking, and you giggled at the gesture.
“Well, I’m glad to be of service. Here!” You handed him a clipped rose from a nearby vase. He took it and put it up to his face, eyes closed, inhaling deeply its scent.
“Smells nice,” He spoke, and when he opened his he was greeted with your stunned face.
“What, something on my face?” He joked.
You shook your head.
“Nothing like that,” you spoke with a touch of admiration in your voice, “I always thought flowers brought beauty out of a person, but with you, you simply make the flowers more beautiful.”
Your words had him stunned, but he recovered within seconds.
“You are a true Casanova, you know that?” He chuckled, breaking the rose off its long stem. He leaned over to tuck the flower behind your ear.
“And I can say the same to you, you make that rose look ravishing ,” He whispered close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“Please don’t eat the flowers,” You chuckled nervously.
“Nah, there’s something else I want to eat,” Combined with the intense look he gave you, his words had you turning pink in the cheeks.
“Oh my god, Shanks,” You said with your hands covering your face.
He laughed a hearty laugh, clearly pleased with your reaction.
“Oh, but I’m not joking, Love .”
Love.
The two of you had started dating only recently, and you still couldn’t wrap it around your head that you two were together now. Shanks had always been a tease, but ever since the two of you became official, it’s been absolute mayhem for your heart.
“ Please, Shanks ,” You spoke through your hands. Your ears were red, a color he said he loved to see on you.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Sorry for teasing you, Sunshine,” He patted your head, “But I digress, I was wondering if you were up to eating at the local tavern with my crew and I tonight. My treat.”
“Aw, although that’s sweet of you, Red, I have to decline,” You shut the proposition down without hesitation. “I’m not one to drink, and��I’m not welcome there.”
His smile dropped at that. “Like they refuse to serve you, or you just don’t feel welcome?”
You waved your hands. “Oh, no, no! Nothing like that. I just don’t feel welcome. The venom is there, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s obvious I’m not wanted in the village.”
He sighed. “You know, I can take care of that if you’d like.”
“Nuh-uh,” you waved a finger pointedly at him, “You are not threatening the villagers.”
He’d cross his arms if he could. “And who said I would be threatening them?”
You gave him a look.
“Okay, okay, no threatening. Can I at least get you take-out for dinner?”
That perked you up, “Sure! I’m not sure what they have, but get me anything you think I’d like, please?”
“Aye-aye, Captain.” He winked again, and you giggled at his words.
“Well, I have to check on the boys. I’ll leave you to your own devices, yeah?”
“Okie dokie. I’ll see you tonight!” You smiled brightly and waved him goodbye.
He smiled down at you with love in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks flush again.
A quick peck on the lips left you frozen with your mouth hung open. He laughed as he walked out, giving you a wave in return.
Once you heard the door’s jingle, you shut your mouth and screamed into your hands.
———————————
A few days passed uneventfully. Shanks stopped by your shop every now and then for a chat, on a rare occasion coming with his right-hand man or other crew mates. Today was one of those days.
“So you’re the little lady that’s got our captain smitten, huh?” The mocha skinned man said. He introduced himself as Yassop, throwing you a wink.
“That would be I! Although he’s got me smitten too. Probably even more so.”
Yassop shook his head at that. “No way. If only you knew how much we’ve had to hear Shanks ramble on about the ‘pretty lady in the flower shop’. It’s been driving us crazy! Our ship is full of flowers now, you know.”
You turned to Shanks. “I was wondering what you were doing with all those flowers! You shouldn’t feel obligated to purchase something every time you stop by, you know. “
“Eh, I’m just supporting my lady’s business.”
“Well, your lady is honored.” You offered a mock bow.
With your head dipped down, Yasopp took notice of the crystal flowers displayed behind you. Beautifully crafted, each flower was hand blown, delicately carved out of stained glass.
“Those don’t look like the kind of flowers you usually sell, miss. They look like they cost a fortune. How much for those?”
“Oh, these?” You turned around to stare at them yourself, touching a glass leaf gently. “They’re not for sale, I’m afraid. These were actually a gift from the Whitebeard crew when I first moved into the island. You probably know who they are, yeah? Well one of the boys had a thing for me and tried to propose to me with these!” You laughed briefly, “Can you believe that? I of course said no, but he let me keep the gift anyways. He said it was specially made for me and would just be thrown away otherwise.”
You were too busy admiring the crystal flowers that you didn’t see the face Shanks made. Yasopp saw him clench his fists, but had no intention of bringing it up.
“That’s… nice ,” Shanks forced out.
You turned and teased, “What, jealous? I can assure you that my heart belongs to one person and one person only.”
You took a crystal poppy out of the vase and handed it to him, “That person is you, Shanks. Another beautiful flower for an even more beautiful man.”
“Damn, Shanks, you didn’t tell me that your girl was such a Casanova. Got any compliments for me, pretty lady?”
“I have no problem admiring beauty when I see it. You sir, have gorgeous hair.”
“I-“ Yasopp was taken aback, “No one recognizes the care that goes into my hair, so thank you! Say,” He started, batting his eyes frivolously, “Are you single?”
That got a laugh out of you both.
The velvet haired man elbowed his crew mate. “Hey, no flirting in front of the captain, it’s rude. And don’t steal my girlfriend, jackass.”
You giggled at that, although Yasopp could recognize through years of knowing the man that Shanks wasn’t joking.
He threw his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I won’t play anymore.” He rubbed the arm Shanks had hit.
“I’m actually here with Shanks today ‘cause he told me you had dried flowers for teas. I wanted to stock up. We won’t be back for a while, and I get tired of booze every night.”
You beamed. Tea was one of your best sellers. “Oh, of course!” Shanks tucked the crystal flower in his waist sash, and you led the two to a section of your store with pouches of dried petals and flower buds. “Go ahead and open and smell them if you’d like. And I’ll throw in a bag for free, on the house.”
“Appreciated, boss lady!”
You felt a strong arm snake around your waste, and you leaned into Shanks’s torso. “Thanks, Sunshine,” He said softly while Yasopp was busy smelling the roses, literally.
“It’s no problem, I want to be good to the people who’re good to you, Red.”
Shanks sighed. “Your earnestness is gonna be the death of me, Love. I’m already holding back …” He murmured that last part under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Eh, don’t worry about it.”
So worry about it you did not. You spent the remaining half hour talking to the two men and explaining what each tea was and how to best brew them. Yasopp ended up purchasing your whole stock of chamomile and dandelion teas, and you threw in a bag of hibiscus tea for free.
The two ended up leaving after their purchases to reorganize dry storage on the ship.
“Hey, I was joking about your girlfriend earlier,” Yasopp brought up while walking back to the dock.
“Pshh, I know. No hard feelings, yeah?”
Yasopp gave him a side eye. He knew how Shanks could get around the things he loved. “…No hard feelings. I’m going ta make way first, dying to try this hibiscus tea.”
“Go ahead, I got some more errands to run before heading back on.” Yasopp didn’t question it, nodding as he slung the large sack of tea pouches over his shoulder.
When he was out of sight, Shanks went into an empty alleyway, using Haki to make sure no one was in the vicinity, especially not you.
He pulled the crystal poppy you gave him out of his waistband, turning it over in his hand. It really was fine craftsmanship. Someone spent a lot of thought and time into making this gift for you. Beautiful, really.
He stretched his hand out, and dropped the flower onto the concrete. His heel crushed the glass with a loud, satisfying crack .
Chapter 2: Marigold - Passion
Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. There wasn’t much that could phase him, even if the most horrific of insults or treatment was thrown his way. As one of the strongest men of the sea, it seldom happened anyways.
But when his loved ones were treated maliciously, the whole script would flip. He’d get angry, belligerent even, and be ready to fight to the death to safeguard those he cared about. The failure to save his childhood captain left a scar in his heart, only fueling his desire to protect.
That’s why when he saw you on the street corner, covered in food, dirt and sand (and what that blood? Fuck that.) just sitting there with your items scattered on the ground, he was seeing red.
“What do you kids think you’re doing?” He growled with deadliest, Haki infused glare he could muster without making anyone in the vicinity faint.
Shanks was not one to hurt children. But seeing you sit there pathetically with tears in your eyes, he so badly wanted to break a bone or two and teach a few life-altering lessons to those hell-spawn.
They were smart at least, because they obviously got the memo and ran off for their lives, shrieking pathetically with their tails tucked between their legs.
“Don’t you ever try this again!” He shouted at them, sighing as he watched them leave for the hills. Once he knew they were no longer an immediate problem he turned all his attention to you.
His beautiful flower, all crumpled and stained with tears. He wanted to shake your shoulders and yell, ‘How could you let this happen to you?’ but knew you would never fight back against children, innocent or not.
“Oh, my love, you okay?” He muttered, kneeling down to meet eye level with you. “What happened?”
It was obvious what happened. Some demon-spawn decided to torment the nicest person in the village, knowing she wouldn’t retaliate. If he could just lay his hands on them, they’d be dead. DEA—
“I was walking back home with groceries when the kids must have thought it’d be funny to play a prank on me. They had me circled and started throwing rocks and rotten food at me. I’m fine now, though,” You smiled weakly, wiping your tears with a clean sleeve, “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Give me a hand?”
He grabbed your delicate hand and helped you up. You dusted yourself off and sighed, making way to pick up the groceries that had all but scattered across the dirt path. He mimicked your actions and before long, your groceries were back in your crumpled brown bag, although beat up and dirty.
You were too nice for your own good. Because even now you didn’t show anger against those children or try to get Shanks, the strongest man in the village at the moment, to do anything about it.
When he asked you why, you responded, “Because knowing the village, it was the adults who put them up to this. In fact I recognized two of those kids, and they usually come into the shop just to visit and give me flowers. I pity them all, knowing they’ll grow up to be the same as their parents, with hatred and distrust in their hearts. One of them looked like they were four years old, Shanks, four. How could I beat up a toddler, let alone get you to do it for me?”
Too nice indeed. Because to be honest (and hopefully you’d never find this out), Shanks was fully prepared to dunk a kid in a trash can and shut the lid if you just asked.
“In any case, I’m just glad you’re okay. Are you going back to the shop?” He asked.
You paused to think about it. “…No. I don’t really feel up to running the store right now.”
“I don’t blame you.” You seemed so sad. Shanks felt his heart twist painfully to see your usually bright self so demure, and not in the good way. He would do anything to get you to smile again.
An idea came to him. “Say, how about I give you a tour of the Red Force? You haven’t been on it yet, right?”
That seemed to perk you right up. “Oh wow, really? I’d love that! I’m surprised you haven’t offered sooner, to be honest. I’ve been dying to see your ship, just didn’t want to impose.”
You looked down at yourself sheepishly.
“Uh, can I go home and get changed first? I’m not exactly in the best condition for an outing right now.”
“Of course,” He stepped closer to you, “I don’t mind if you get changed. Although I’d like if you had nothing to change with at all.” He ended that with a wink, smirking as he saw you glow bright red.
“Oh my god, Shanks!” You jumped to cover his mouth looking around to see if anyone else heard that, “ We’re in public! ”
He moved your hands out of the way, grinning like a madman. “Oho. So you wouldn’t mind if it was in private, yeah?”
You were crimson at this point, and Shanks loved every second of it. By Davey Jones, you were so cute. Your response though, had his head going into overdrive.
“I…” You fidgeted shyly, “I mean…. not really ,” You muttered that last part, and it took Shanks everything in him not to take you home and bed you right then and there.
He wanted to touch you, and bad.
“Getting bold, are we?” He bent over to say lowly against your ear.
“I mean—woah!” He had scooped you up in one arm, impressively. “Shanks, put me down! You’ll get your clothes dirty.”
“No can do. I saw the way you were avoiding putting pressure on your left leg. You hurt your ankle, didn’t ya?”
You looked away embarrassed and sighed. “Yes,” you mumbled, “But I can still walk!”
“Would you rather this, or me beat up those kids?”
“Ugh. This.”
“Then let me do this for you, yeah? It’s the least I can do for my pocket of sunshine.”
You smiled at the nickname and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
Again, it took everything in him not to bed you right then and there.
—————————-
You had a blast getting to see the ship. It was big up close, but even bigger inside. You got to meet the rest of the crew, and was pleased to see Yasopp drinking one of your signature teas. He offered the two of you some, and the three of you both shared a cup for a brief but enjoyable moment.
By the time Shanks’s impromptu tour was over, the sun was lowering into a nice, warm sunset.
Shanks had walked you all the way home like the handsome gentleman he was. He always looked at you with such fierce passion that you could melt under his stare. Today, it was even more apparent, and you had trouble making eye contact with him.
When you finally had the courage to not look down at your feet though, you noticed he was staring at you with such a serious expression that you thought something was wrong.
“Thanks for everything today, Shanks. Is there something bothering you? You look like you got something on your mind.”
He looked at you for a moment, silent. His large hands clasped over yours with a gentle squeeze.
“…Come with me, sunshine. I can take you far, far away from these people and keep you safe.”
You seemed to hesitate, something he noticed. But you simply looked at him with sad eyes and shook your head no.
“You know I can’t, Red. I can’t leave my shop. And look,” You pointed at your bandaged neck, “Can’t exactly leave when the only known medicine for my condition is on this island, can’t I?”
“Then we’ll get you a doctor. We can find someone in the New World to heal you, or at least find a way to keep those flowers that you need alive in soil not from this island,” He was pleading with you, and your heart broke at the sound.
“But you don’t know that for sure. And I don’t want to be a burden on the crew when I’m already as fragile as I am.”
Silence.
“I’m…I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.
The man remained unmoving from his position. A dark shadow covered his face.
“No.”
He gripped your forearms. Strong enough that you couldn’t budge, but not enough to hurt you.
“You don’t understand, Love. I can take care of you. In more ways than one.”
“No,” he muttered, and it felt like it was to himself, “No. I am not leaving you behind. Not when you’re right here and suffering, when I can do something. Not when I need you.”
He leaned in, staring deep into your eyes.
“And I know you need me too. Don’t you?”
The way he stared at you, with loving, worried eyes made your heart melt. Eyes that were desperate to keep you. Tears prickled your eyes as you smiled weakly.
“You jerk. You already know the answer to that.”
He chuckled softly. “I know. But I want to hear you say it.”
“I need you, Red.”
No reaction.
You sighed. “I need you, Shanks.”
He wrapped you tightly in his embrace, enveloping your body with his like a strong cocoon shielding you from the outside world.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, soaking in eachother’s warmth. Part of you was tempted to invite him, beg him to stay.
Eventually the two of you parted ways, him stopping at your door and giving you a kiss goodnight. You smiled as he walked away with a wave, evening sun illuminating his crimson hair.
You closed the door and prepared for bed.
Later that night, your thoughts roamed to your beloved pirate captain.
He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.
If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.
—————————-
Shanks laid in his bed and pondered ways to keep you with him. He was leaving soon, and he knew you had too many attachments to this island to persuade you to leave with him and the crew.
And like a match being struck, an incongruous idea formed in his head. One he knew you’d never forgive him for if you found out. Hell, you’d probably hate him for the rest of your life.
It was simple, really. Get rid of your attachments. That way, the only thing you’d be attached to was him. In a way, he was doing you more than one favor. The villagers treated you like shit, and he could make sure your life was far happier than what it was now. No one would dare mistreat you ever again.
Yeah. It was a good idea. An idea so good he immediately hopped off his bed, and got to work. He checked the clock in his quarters.
Half past midnight. Good. That means no one would be around to see what he did. He carefully slipped out of the ship, watchful as to not wake any of his crew members or catch the attention of Beckman, who was on watch duty that night. In his hand was a large canister of kerosene.
Once he reached his destination, he looked up at the delicate sign you had crafted.
Floral Feelings .
Feelings, huh? You could blame feelings for what was to come. He had such intense feelings for you that he’d do anything, anything to get you to stay by his side.
Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. And when his loved ones were hurt, do everything in his power to remedy the problem. Even if it meant hurting in the beginning.
Breaking into the building, he splashed oil onto the floor, on the counters, on the flowers, and the walls. He noticed those damned crystal flowers and knocked the entire vase onto the floor, satisfied with the loud crash that resonated in the building.
Once he was satisfied with his work, he stepped outside, carefully maintaining distance from the small structure. Pulling a match from his waistband, he lit it, and threw it into the oil covered doors with a simple flick.
Chapter 3: Morning Glory - Obsession
The village officers say it happened in the dead of night.
No one heard it happen, and the culprit left no traces that’d help with any investigation. The best thing they could do was write it off as an accident, and hope your insurance would reimburse you for most of the damages.
They questioned you for over an hour, filling their books with useless information that’d do nothing to help find the culprit. They had even considered you to be a suspect, but the fierce look in your eyes and a seething glare had them scratching that off the book as soon as the suggestion came. When they left, you were all alone.
You just stared, eyeing the rubble that was left of your store.
Your pride and joy was reduced to nothing but ash.
What’s worse is you knew one of the villagers did it. But who? Everyone in this blasted town had something against you. Was it Marnie, the mother of three that blamed you for throwing her decor shop out of business? Or Riley, the man who was convinced you were a witch? Maybe even Lucina, who you fired after finding out she was deliberately poisoning your plants a week into work.
It could even be one of the teenagers that seemed to hate your guts for no reason. They would enjoy a prank like this. You wouldn’t be surprised.
You held yourself in a weak attempt at comfort. What you really needed was Shanks. You couldn’t handle this place anymore.
No, you wanted to leave .
As you trudged your way to the Red Force, the mocking marmalade sky reminded you of the flames that must have engulfed your shop in the night. Tears fell down your face as you thought of years of hard work and memories — lost to the wind, just like that.
By the time you made it to the dock, Yassop was there, ready to make his way to your shop. He didn’t question your teary eyed expression or soot stained dress. Word must have spread quick, because he offered his condolences and silently lead you to Shanks’s quarters. When you arrived at the door, he gave you a pat on the back and left you to your own devices.
—————————————-
Aboard the Red Force, all was quiet. It was later into the evening, and supper was served not too long ago. The captain of the Red-Hair pirates was sitting at his desk, eyeing the clock every other moment, waiting for your appearance. According to Beckman the villagers were gossiping up a storm about the fire since this morning. There was no way you haven’t gone to see your shop yet. Knowing you, you’d come around when you were ready to talk, but he worried about leaving you alone at such a vulnerable time. Maybe he should seek you out. Why haven’t you come to him yet?
Shanks sighed, continuing to go over logs until a gentle rapt at the door caught his attention. It couldn’t have been his noisy men, who had a tendency to barge in unannounced. Who the hell was bothering him at this hour?
“Who is it?” He inquired.
“…Shanks? It’s me.” A muffled voice muttered through the door.
“Sunshine??” He quickly got up from his desk, pulling his things back into their respective drawers.
Shuffling to the door, he was greeted by none other than you, your beautiful face stained and red with tears.
“Oh no, Sunshine. Come here.” He quickly wrapped you in a warm embrace.
“My shop…it’s all gone, Shanks,” you sobbed, “They burned it all down.”
“Yasopp just told me earlier. Believe me, I was going to come see you as soon as I heard the news. I just had to wrap things up so we could depart soon.”
“Don’t go…” You sniffled weakly against his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere, Love. Least not yet.” He reassured you.
You poor thing. All teary eyed and heartbroken. It hurt to see you like this. He may have been the reason for it, but your pained expression still angered him to see. What a hypocrite he was, but if anyone else had caused it they’d be dead in a heartbeat.
“You wanna sit down?”
You shook your head no, sniffling.
“Well we can’t stand here forever. Here, come in and si—“
“Shanks…” You interrupted meekly, pulling at his shirt, “What am I supposed to do now?”
He held you tighter. “One step at a time, Love. We can figure this out one step at a time.”
“I’ve tried so hard to be accepted by these people. But what have I got to show for it? Nothing but food and rocks thrown at me, and the burning of my most prized possession. It’s all just hideous.”
You blinked up at him, “I…I just want to stop thinking for a moment. Please help me forget, Shanks.”
“Sure, just come in so we can sit and chat about something else.”
You looked away, as if pondering the proposition for a moment.
The man stopped breathing when he felt you pull his shirt collar towards yourself, kissing him right on the lips. To his chagrin, you parted after a minute, trailing kisses down his neck.
“I’d rather do something else…”
Oh . Well if that’s how you wanted to forget, he could absolutely do that.
“Love, are you sure?” He still wanted to be a gentleman, giving you another way out before he locked you in . Because once he had you, he wasn’t going to let you go.
You nodded.
Gingerly, as if afraid to break you, his hand trailed down from your back to your hips, and he leaned forward to gently caress your mouth with his tongue. The first kiss was soft, with you reaching to wrap your arms over his neck. Your arms tightened, you pressing your tongue back against his to fight your way in. He relented easily, letting you dominate. His body was tingling when he felt your tongue trail inside his mouth.
When the two of you parted lips, you were panting heavily. You looked so good right then, cheeks pink with puffy red lips.
“C’mere,” Shanks ushered. Once you two were both inside, he shut the door with a heavy bang , making sure to lock the door behind him.
As soon as that door was shut, he pushed your sniveling form onto his bed, crawling over you to meet your eyes. The bed creaked under his weight.
“Oh, you poor thing. I’ll make sure you forget everything, sweetheart. Just trust me.” He wiped a tear from your eye.
You reached out for him, and his heart ached.
Without much effort, he lifted your dress off your head. It took every fiber of restraint in his being not to just tear your clothes off.
“Oh, you’re so beautiful.”
He stared down at your bare chest, your delicate mounds rising and lowering quickly with excitement.
“You’re far more beautiful,” You said with a gentle smile. You began to pet his hair and he almost growled. “Please,” you pleaded, “Just take me.”
“Fuck. You have no idea how long I’ve been holding myself back. I’ve been so scared that I’d scare you away or break you. You’re absolutely perfect.”
You giggled softly. “I’m stronger than I look, Shanks. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”
His eyes raked over your pretty form hungrily. He was going to consume you, and he had your permission to do it. Life couldn’t get any better than this.
You shook under his predatory gaze, looking away abashedly.
“Aw, come on now. Look at me. I wanna see your gorgeous eyes.”
You slowly moved back to look at him, enamored by those heavily-lidded eyes gazing upon you with such passion.
He made quick work with your undergarments. Before you knew it, your undies and bra were on the other side of the room, his own pants following after.
“May I?” He asked, leaning close to your face.
You nodded again.
Using his hand to lean atop you, his mouth met one of your hardened nipples, tongue rolling around in a circle.
You gasped at the sensation, lowly moaning as he suckled on your breast.
You mewled, and oh, how he’d love to hear that sound every day. At this point, he wished he still had his other arm so he could touch you all over. He’d have to make due. His knee moved up to your crotch, and you whined at the pleasure of it pressing against you.
He detached from your nipple with a loud pop . “Didja like that, baby?”
You nodded shyly, bringing your hands to your face in a cute attempt to cover your blushing cheeks.
“What’s the matter, Sunshine? I said I wanted to look at ya.”
“It’s just—I’m only now realizing that I asked for this, but uh, I’m inexperienced. I haven’t done this in a long, long time,” Your admitted, voice trailing off into a quiet mumble, “…this is embarrassing. And it doesn’t help that you’re really attractive.” You patted your cheeks like you wanted to wake yourself up.
He chuckled softly at that. You were so . Fucking . Endearing . “I’ll take care of you, Love. Just gotta relax for me, yeah? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You look stunning.”
“And look,” You squeaked when he kneeled back to rub your sex with his large hand, shortly before lifting it up and splaying his fingers out to display your slick coating his fingers, “You’re already doing so good right now. All nice and wet for me.”
“I-I—-hnggggg,” You bemoaned, hand reaching to cover your face again before Shanks caught it.
“Ah-ah-ah. Keep doing that and I’ll have to tie you to the bed post. Or would ya like that, eh?”
You were a blushing, stuttering mess at this point, both aroused and mortified like there was no tomorrow.
“I….maybe? I dunno, Shanks.”
Oh fuck yes.
The image of you chained to his bed, begging for action or inaction, had his lower member throbbing .
Your words let out some sort of primal beast in him, because his desire never felt so strong in his life. His instincts told him to claim you and to claim you NOW, and never let you go until the ends of time.
That’s it. He wanted you now, and bad.
But he had to be patient. You were in his grasps and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.
Patience, Shanks. You already made it this far , he told himself.
You gasped at the feeling of his cock poking your entrance.
“I don’t wanna wait anymore, baby. Can I?” He breathed.
You smiled shyly at his request, sending his heart over the moon. “Please.”
That was all he needed. He grunted as he pushed himself into you. God, you felt so tight and warm . If it was up to him he’d like to stay like that forever. He started slowly, pumping in and out of you in the best missionary position he could muster with one hand.
“Ahhh, Shanks,” You cried sweetly. “Th—that feels nice .”
He leaned fully into you, his large torso nearly crushing yours as he made way to encroach his dick into the deepest part of your being. You looked so good with your breasts crushed between your legs. The two of you shared a heated kiss, Shanks thrusting into you harder as his tongue explored the cave of your mouth.
“Fuck, Sunshine. I could fuck you all day. You like your pussy getting pounded?”
You could do nothing but cry out in pleasure, which was all the ‘yes’ he needed.
“Roll to the side for me, baby.” As you laid on your side, he did too, his thick cock sliding in from behind you. He grabbed your leg and lifted it up for better leeway, grunting as he pumped you full with his dick.
“Oh fuck, Shanks, you feel too good. You’re making me feel so good right now.” You praised. He moaned at your words, teeth sinking into your soft neck. He peppered your tender throat with kisses, never stopping his rhythm, if anything slamming into you harder after hearing those words.
You looked so fucking sexy, laid out like a fine gift just for him. He was never one for marriage, being a pirate and all, but here and now he knew you’d be the one. Your ass was so hot as it jiggled, and he was obsessed with watching the perfect way your wet pussy took his dick in so easily. It’s like you were made for him, just for him and only for him.
It made him thrilled to know you hadn’t done something like this with anyone else in a long time. He was taking his time, and he absolutely loved it. He loved YOU. So fucking much.
He flipped you so you were now on your stomach. “On your knees,” He commanded huskily, voice thick with lust.
As soon as you obliged, his breath hitched at how utterly dirty you looked from behind, ass out, pussy dripping with wetness.
Your moans were sweet, so sweet. He cursed under his breath, eyes glued to the way your pussy was forming a white ring on his dick as he drilled into you from behind.
He didn’t ignore the way he felt you clenching tighter. A pleased smirk etched across his face. “That’s it, baby. You gonna come for me? Huh?”
“Hahhhh, yes!” You whined breathlessly as Shanks took you to paradise, forgetting all your troubles as you reached your high. “God, I’m coming!”
“Good girl.” That seemed to really set you off, because immediately after you moaned loudly, inner walls of your vagina beating rhythmically. He kept going, fucking you through your orgasm, much to his pleasure and your distress.
“W-wait, Shanks! I can’t take anymore, I’m— ahhh —really sensitive right now!”
“Oh, yes you can. Can’t you feel the way you’re sucking me in? Come on and take it, baby. You’re doing so good right now.” He slapped your ass and you yelped.
“Mmm, it feels too good,” Whined your cute self.
“You’re cute, ya know that? I just wanna spoil you and take care of you like this every day.”
“I’d like that,” You voiced between pants.
“Atta girl,” The red-haired man praised, leaning into you so could cup your breast with his hand.
He whispered into your ear, “I love the sounds you make, Sunshine. You know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this? God, what you do to me.”
And now that he had you, he’d be hard pressed to let you go.
“Shanks, let me ride you. I wanna see your face.”
“Sure thing, Love.”
So you two switched positions again. Shanks laid on the mattress, leaning back as he watched you insert himself into you.
It was such a turn on watching the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you started grinding your hips into him. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the lips.
“Let me help you with that,” He offered.
“What do you mea—ah!”
Shanks started thrusting as fast as he could into you, satisfied with the way your pussy tightened on him at every thrust. You held onto him tightly, fingers clawing at his back in a way that he didn’t mind.
You were moaning so lewdly. He felt himself slipping away, imagining a nice, cozy future together where he could fuck you as much as he liked. As much as you wanted.
Shit, he was gonna cum soon.
The fact that you felt so nice and warm was absolutely too much for him to handle.
“Fuck, baby, I think I’m gonna cum.”
You started suckling on his neck with vigor that was bound to leave nasty hickeys later, but he didn’t care.
“Keep going,” You ushered, “Don’t stop.”
“Shit, baby, you sure?” He said, sounding much more affected with each thrust.
He wasn’t expecting to come inside you but if that’s what you wanted, then fuck it.
“Yeah. I think I’m gonna come too!”
His breathing become haggard as he gripped your ass cheek with his hand, pumping into you like a madman. Finally, he felt that sweet release he was itching for as he let out ropes of cum into your pussy, your walls sucking him dry. You rode him even when he had nothing left to give dick sensitive to the touch.
You hopped off him and collapsed at his side, breathing heavily. He eyed the way cum slid down his dick, no thanks to you.
He gave you a kiss on the cheek.
“You did amazing, baby,” He praised.
“So did you. That felt great.”
The two of you laid there in silence, until you broke it. “I love you, Shanks.”
“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”
“…Take me with you, Shanks. I wanna join your crew.”
He shot right up at that. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Seriously? You mean it?”
You nodded, lips curving into the tiniest of smiles. “I can’t bear to see you go. And besides, ‘s not like I have anything left here anyways. Just…promise me we can find a doctor to help me?”
“Of course, Love, of course. Man I’m so glad you said that. I was seriously considering just snatching you away and taking you with us.”
You laughed at that, unaware he seriously meant it.
The idea was getting him all excited again.
“Say, you wanna go another round?”
“What—hey!”
And he was all over you, dragging kisses down your chest before you could say anything.
Chapter 4: Bonus Chapter : The Aftermath
“So, guess that’s everything!” You announced with the clap of your hands.
“Really? This isn’t a lot of stuff, Sunshine.”
You and Shanks were up early, packing your things so you’d be ready for the Red Force’s departure.
You scratched your head sheepishly. “Yeah, I don’t own many things. Being a florist doesn’t exactly earn you a mean amount of Berries, you know? Besides, I sold most of what I owned over the course of this week to have some pocket money.”
You were only bringing three bags with you : one for your clothes, one for your nic-nacs, and one small pouch for your medicines, containing a stash of dried medicinal flowers for your illness. That’d keep your condition at bay for a month and a half, thankfully.
“Well, we have plenty of time to remedy that. Our band of misfits aren’t exactly broke, you know.”
“Aw, is Red trying to spoil me?”
“Only if you want.” He was standing beside you, hand on your hip as he gave you a peck on the cheek, watching with amazement at how fast your ears turned pink. Despite having gone all the way with him, you still felt like a shy, smitten schoolgirl around him. Perhaps the butterflies would wane over time.
“I appreciate it, but maybe another time. I got my own money to spend now, and I’d hate to use the ship’s coffers just for myself.”
“I mean, it’s gonna be inevitable, Love. We kind of have to pick up furnishings for your room. Unless you’d rather live in the captain’s quarters.”
“I mean….can I? Wait—I mean, only if you’re okay with that, I’m not saying I want your space and all, it’s just you’ll be there andIwon’thavetobealoneatnightand—“
Shanks beamed. “Woah, woah, slow your roll there pal. I’d love for you to stay with me. Contrary to popular belief, this cold-blooded captain gets lonely at night.
Your brightened at that.
“That being said, you’ll still have your own room to hang out in when you need space, and to hold all your things.”
“I understand,” You relented, “Where would we shop though?”
“In the village, of course. It’ll be a whole excursion. And I want you there to see the way they look at me when I walk into their shops. The faces they make are hilarious! You’re not the only one they dislike, ya know.” He gave you a hard pat on the back, making you go ‘oof’.
Once the two of you got your belongings on the ship, your trip around the village shops began. Shanks was right, seeing the villagers’ faces as your big bad captain showed up at their shop was hilarious. They didn’t even bother making any snide remarks to you because they were so busy being scared shitless of Shanks. The crimson haired man insisted you buy something for yourself on his dime, so you opted for a cheap sunhat and a new dress. Most of the shopping was dedicated to your would-be room, Shanks promising the shopkeeps he’d be back with his crew (that made one man nearly faint) to grab the furnishings after lunch.
The two of you were walking back to the dock.
“Shanks, I’m not getting anymore clothes,” You said after noticing he slipped a new pair of shoes into his bag.
“Well, who said they were for you?”
You threw him a look. “I don’t think you wear shoes that small. Unless you mean to buy for another woman.”
He threw you one back. “No way, don’t even joke about it. I’m loyal to you and to you alone, Sunshine.”
“Relax, big boy. I get it,” You smiled, “I’m loyal to you too.”
You sighed. “At least you’re better than my old boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” Inquired Shanks, a dangerous lilt in his voice that you failed to notice, “What was he like?”
“Handsome,” (Shanks did not like that), “A real heart stopper. But that was all he ever was. He was a playboy. Unreliable. Cheated on me with another girl and ran off with her. Last I heard, he became a shipwright in Water Seven. With a girl besides the one he cheated on me with, of course.”
“Damn, if I ever see him I’ll kick him in the balls for ya.”
You cackled at that. “Thanks, but I’d rather be the one to do it myself.”
“Feisty, eh?”
“Just for you, Shanks. Hey, where are you going?” You noticed he turned the opposite corner, which led to an alleyway. You followed suit, surprised when your back was pressed against the wall.
You gasped as a warm tongue quickly pushed its way into your mouth, a hand squeezing your waist as you were pulled into a demanding kiss.
When you parted ways, you were gasping for air. “W-what was that all about?”
There was a dark look in Shanks’s eyes, “Just claiming what’s mine. I don’t like it when you talk about other men in front of me. Or ever.”
Your cheeks felt terribly hot. And you found his possessiveness actually attractive rather than gross or controlling.
“Uh, I see,” You didn’t really know how to respond, “Guess I won’t do it again, haha.”
“Good girl.”
He gave you a kiss on the forehead, staring into your eyes as he spoke, “Let’s head back to the ship, yeah? There’s something I wanna do when we get back…”
You gulped. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
——————————————————-
Bonus POV: Shanks
You and I were packing your things early in the morning to bring to the Red Force. Without a doubt, I was ecstatic.
Truth be told, it was getting hard to part ways when we made out to sea. This time, I wouldn’t leave the island without you. I’m so glad you offered to come with me in the end.
Although, it did need a little encouragement.
Nonetheless I was happy. Only problem was you barely had anything to bring to the ship. This wouldn’t do. I didn’t realize how little you had until you mentioned not affording much as a florist.
My chest felt a pang of guilt at not noticing your needs. That was going to change though. From now on, I’d take care of you and make sure you were happy and would want for nothing. I offered to take you shopping since we needed furniture for your prospective room, anyways.
When you said you’d like to sleep in my quarters with me, I could feel my heart skip a beat. Everything about you was so perfect to me. And the fact that you reciprocated my feelings had me over the moon.
We ended up going shopping, and enjoyed mocking the villagers together. You were really amused to see their terrified faces at my presence. I don’t think you realized most people fear me, and that’s it’s kind of the normal reaction to have with pirates. Especially towards a Yonko like me. But that’s why I liked you in the first place. Because you weren’t scared. You treated everyone with respect and dignity, regardless of their situation. I’m glad you weren’t afraid of pirates.
That being said, if you ever got too friendly with another pirate crew (Whitebeard’s sons beware), there’d be hell to pay. I’m still trying to get the name of the sonofabitch who proposed to you, but you won’t relent. Probably because you know I’d make a complaint to Whitebeard. Smart girl.
You ended up buying a sunhat and a dress, much to my chagrin. I wish you got more things, but I understand you didn’t want to use my dime for your stuff. Hopefully that’d change in the future. You aren’t just my girlfriend anymore, you’re part of the crew. And I want to take care of you. It’d take some adjusting, but I know you’ll eventually grow to rely on me.
We were done shopping and headed towards the ship when you suddenly brought up your old boyfriend. Why? I felt jealousy surge inside me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Yassop had told me before that I need to work on keeping my possessiveness in check. Didn’t wanna scare you off, after all.
So I listened as you called him handsome, and then went on to call him a cheater, listing all the other terrible things about him that made you two separate. He sounded like a mouse of a man. You could have done better. But that was all in the past, right? You were doing better now.
You were mine. And mine alone. The thought always excited me, maybe to an unhealthy degree.
I led you to an alleyway so I could kiss you in private. I couldn’t handle the lack of physical touch when we were so close together. I absolutely loved the way you tasted, I do everytime we kiss.
I love you. I love you so much.
Do I regret hurting you to get the outcome I wanted? Not one bit. I’d do it again, even if it means you’d find out.
Because now, I had you all to myself.
#yandere imagines#male yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere male#yandere writing#yandere x reader#yandere drabble#one piece#akagami no shanks#red hair shanks#red haired shanks#shanks#shanks x reader#one piece x reader#one piece smut#op x reader#op x y/n#one piece x you#one peice#one piece x y/n#yandere smut#male yandere x reader#opla smut
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Fic request idea baby: what about Eddie with a gf who used to have an ED but she's doing better now but he notices that she's starting to relapse like skipping meals and he brings it up to her and just angst to fluff
+ Hey if ur taking requests:
what about if Effie's gf randomly stops changing in front of him like she's getting into pj and she goes to the bathroom and then starts asking for the lights to be off during sex and he's super confused and asks her about it and basically angst bc she's trying to hide it but may be she had a slip during ED recovery?
+ Hi lovie a lil request! What about Eddie with a gf whose in eating disorder recovery like she used to struggle but it's been a few years since then and she's don't just fine but he notices she's starting to relapse?
These three requests seemed to overlap just perfectly. The beautiful and talented @munson-blurbs was kind enough to write these with me so go shower her with all the love 💚
Warnings: eating disorders, body image issues, relapse struggles. Please, if you want or need to talk to somebody, I'm always here.
Words: 1.5k
You’re fairly certain you’re living on the sun’s surface.
Logic would say that you haven’t left Hawkins, but the temperature outside begs to differ.
“Christ, it’s like 1,000 degrees in here,” Eddie mumbles, cracking open a cold can of Pepsi and taking a swig. He plants a kiss on your forehead, careful not to disturb your reading.
You smile but keep your nose buried in the bridal magazine Nancy had bought for you. Page after page of wedding dresses had you swimming in a sea of white, each more beautiful—and expensive—than the last.
Oh, well. At least it would give you an idea of what to look for at your bridal appointment in a few weeks.
What truly caught your eye was an article tucked towards the back of the magazine. Its title boldly declares, “Shedding for the Wedding: Lose that Weight and Look Great!”
You shouldn’t read it. It’ll only upset you, only bring back the bad thoughts and routines and restrictions that you’d fought so hard to overcome. And yet you’re drawn to it, eyes scanning each fad diet for one that might help you.
No. Yes. No. Yes. Put the magazine down. Stop reading the diet tips and comparing yourself to the models.
But they’re so pretty and so skinny. If Eddie saw them, he might not even want to marry you anymore. Not when he saw how beautiful women were supposed to look in wedding dresses.
Maybe losing a few pounds wouldn’t hurt. One diet couldn’t be so bad. It would be temporary, just until the wedding.
It was totally fine.
“What are we thinking for dinner tonight, babe?” Eddie rifles through the pantry and pulls out two boxes of pasta. “We have bowties and rigatoni. I’m personally more of a bowtie man myself, but it’s your call.”
You shake your head. “I’m good. Just gonna have some soup.” Reaching around him, you pluck a can of Progresso off of the shelf.
“Soup?” Eddie wrinkles his nose in confusion. “It’s hotter than Satan’s tits outside.”
You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “Period craving.”
“You’re not on your period.”
“Well, PMS.”
Something nags at you—if you have to hide your new soup diet from your husband-to-be, maybe it’s not a good idea. Maybe you should put the can away and make pasta instead. But then you remember those gorgeous models, so svelte and sculpted and perfect.
Soup it is.
It’s harder to ignore the problem as more symptoms of the illness start to return. The first time you’d gathered up your pajamas and taken them into the bathroom with you, Eddie just assumed you were going to take a shower. When you emerged with bone-dry hair not two minutes later, he was puzzled. But he didn’t say anything, not wanting to come across as overprotective or overbearing. Maybe there was some simple excuse and he didn’t want to make you feel like you have to answer to him about every little thing.
Eddie can’t ignore that there’s a problem anymore when you slip back into one of your old habits that has always broken his heart. Sex was now lights off and you kept your shirt on. Eddie wanted to see every part of you, touch every part of you. He was going to be your husband and the fact that you didn’t want him to see this part of you—that he has made very clear in the past that he fucking loves—disheartens him.
Stress begins to build up within Eddie. He feels like he’s toeing the line because he doesn’t want to sound accusatory, but he also knows something is going on with you. And he has a pretty good idea of what it is. You try to hide how you pinch at your stomach and thighs, but he sees. The way you measure your wrists with your fingers all throughout the day. He wonders if you even realize you’re doing it, or if it’s reflexive at this point.
Though you never mention it, you always have your green journal around the kitchen. Eddie respects your privacy enough not to go through it, but reaching for the keys over your shoulder one evening he notices that you’re making a list of what you’ve eaten that day. His stomach sinks as yet another familiar pattern emerges from the days when your disorder was at its worst. Your fiancé is coming closer to his breaking point and he still doesn’t know what to do or even who to go to about this.
The final straw though is when you turn down girls’ night with Nancy and Robin at the Cheesecake Factory. You lived for nights out with your two best friends. They knew you almost as well as Eddie did though, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to sit down at a restaurant with them and bullshit your way out of not eating a proper meal like you should.
Eddie knows now he has to say something. Anything, really. When you walk out of your shared bedroom in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, Eddie chews on his bottom lip as he mentally prepares for the conversation he knows needs to happen.
The moment you sit down on the couch, Eddie sits next to you. You reach for the remote but your hand doesn’t even make it to the piece of plastic before Eddie speaks.
“Can we, um, talk?”
“About what?” you ask, sitting back against the couch cushions.
Your fiancé leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He rubs his hands together and his tongue pokes out of his pouty pink lips like it does whenever he’s concentrating on something.
“I’m worried about you, babe,” he finally says. “You’re not yourself.”
Eddie doesn’t miss the way you reflexively shrink in on yourself.
“I’m just stressed with wedding stuff,” you say.
“That’s why you didn’t hang out with Nancy and Robin?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Mhm.”
“And all the pinching and not eating and not wanting me to see you naked? Is that because of wedding stress, too?”
You turn away from him and pull your knees to your chest, but he moves to face you again. “Baby, I know something’s wrong. And the last time I saw you like this, it was because…”
“I told you, I’m fine,” you snap. “I’m just stressed. Maybe if you spent more time helping me plan and less time planning stupid campaigns for a game you played back in high school, you’d understand.”
The accusation is unfair, and you know it. Sure, you’ve been doing most of the planning, but he’s been there every step of the way.
Eddie winces at your harsh tone. He looks like he has a rebuttal but gives up after a moment “Fine. Let’s just go to bed.”
Guilt from your outburst wracks your body and holds sleep hostage. After tossing and turning for a little while, you hear soft cries coming from Eddie’s side of the bed.
“Eds?” Your heart leaps into your chest. “What’s going on?” You give him a hug from behind, latching on like a koala to a tree trunk until he turns to face you.
Even in the darkness, you can see the way his eyes shine with tears. “I know you relapsed and…and I don’t know what to do,” he manages through his sobs. “I don’t know how to help, so I just stand there like a goddamn idiot, but I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong! I can’t keep pretending that you’re not hurting yourself!”
He knew. The whole time you thought you’d been protecting him from the truth, and he knew.
You wipe at his cheeks, feeling the moisture on your palms. “I’m sorry.”
Eddie shakes his head. “‘S not your fault, I know it’s not, but…you need to get help for this. I can’t lose my girl.” He presses his lips to your forehead and lets them linger there, holding you as tightly as he can. “Please. Please.”
No. You need to lose weight. You need to look good; no, perfect in your dress. All eyes are going to be on you, and you can’t show a single flaw.
The argument sits on your tongue, defensiveness ready to spring into action. But then you see his brokenness, his vulnerability as he unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve.
Skinny. Skinnier. Skinniest.
But then—Eddie.
Eddie, who laid his heart out for you. Who let down the walls he’d spent years building just so he could receive your love. Who felt your pain despite your best attempts to shield him from it.
Maybe you weren’t ready to get better for yourself, but until you were, you could do it for him.
You nod, pulling back and kissing him softly. “I will. I promise. First thing tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll wake you up the moment the sun rises.”
At this, you have to let out a small laugh. “The therapy clinic doesn’t open until nine.”
Eddie cradles your face in his calloused palms, leaning in to gently kiss your nose. “Then I’ll wake you up at nine.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#request
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hi dee :3 i'm a big fan of your writing and ginormous brain, and i love the spicy sleepover concept you've got going !! (sorry for not popping by earlier, i'm a lil shy hfjhdj >~<)
this wknd could i humbly request that you expand upon a certain roommate!kuroo.. omg that post has been living in my brain non-stop for the last 48h.. 🙏
(hihi thank you so much you're so sweet<3<3<3!!!!!!)
night swim
tetsurou kuroo x f!reader
c: 18+ only, pining, roommate!kuroo, semi-public sex, pool sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie
SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — HEAT WAVE EDITION
It shouldn’t be weird—treading water after hours in the city pool with Kuroo under a blanket of stars and one dull, flickering street light just outside the chain link fence, the air still thick with the unrelenting humidity of a week-long heat wave.
It shouldn’t be weird that you’re swimming in your underwear, Kuroo’s bright idea to hop the fence and dive in mid-way on your walk back to your apartment from the convenience store too enthusiastic to deny. Too tempting against the uncomfortable, lingering prickle of heat and sweat on your skin after the two of you spent all afternoon trying to fix your one and only shitty, busted air conditioner in the living room.
Kuroo’s been your roommate for nearly two years now, and you’ve accidentally seen each other naked more than a dozen times at this point—it’s become an occupational hazard you’ve long-since come to terms with.
(At least, you’ve lied to yourself enough to say as much.)
It wouldn’t be weird, if your stupid, traitorous heart would settle back into place behind your rapidly expanding ribcage, if it would let you continue to deny the inconvenient, messy feelings that have settled down roots deep inside of you as of late.
Roots that sprouted to life at the strange, funny feeling that unfurled inside of you at the odd expression on Kuroo’s face when you told him you finally broke up with your cheating boyfriend six months ago.
Roots that dug their tendrils in even tighter as his room suddenly seemed all too quiet at night, his casual hookups dwindling dry.
(Roots that threatened to choke you the first time you realized you’d accidentally moaned his name into your pillow as your vibrator tipped you over the edge of a trembling, gushing orgasm.)
But it’s too late to backtrack this monumentally disastrous decision, not now that your ill-fated splashing match (an effort to derail the feelings simmering in your gut) finds you caged in against the side wall of the in-ground pool.
You’re a deer caught in headlights beneath his triumphant, smirking gaze—if the deer was secretly begging to get fucked by the goddamn car, that is.
You haven’t quite decided if it’s better or worse that you’re not wearing your usual comfortable weekend undergarments at the moment, a now-cancelled date (which you’d swiped right on solely with the misguided hope of fucking Kuroo out of your system) finds you still wearing a new lacy pink bra, your nipples clearly exposed through the sheer fabric, and matching thong. Soaking wet and clinging to your skin, neither are doing much to hide the swell of your breasts or the swollen outline of your throbbing clit.
Water splashes gently against the side of the pool, and though you’re not certain who stops laughing first, you find yourself quietly staring at Kuroo and his damp, messy hair and stupidly handsome face.
“What happened to your date?” he asks suddenly.
“He cancelled,” You swallow, trying to play it off as you wave a hand at yourself. “Waste of a new outfit.”
Kuroo’s voice is a little rough as he replies, “His loss.”
“Is it?” you ask quietly.
He stares at you for a moment, seemingly thinking something over before he finally speaks. “You’re not as quiet as you think.”
Though you’re fairly certain you know exactly what he means, you still sputter out, “I—”
You’ve made an unfortunate habit of it ever since the first time—slicking up your vibrator to thoughts of a tall head of unruly black hair and hazel eyes. Plunging the silicone toy in and out of your cunt to the fantasy of how Kuroo’s deep voice would sound against the shell of your ear.
“Is it fucked up,” Kuroo breathes out in a gravelly tone, one finger feathering over the strap of your new bra, “that I don’t want anyone else to see you in this?”
“Do you think it’s fucked up?” you ask.
His answering laugh is low and self-deprecating as he drags a hand through his hair, rogue strands sticking up in the wake of his fingers. “I mean it’s definitely fucked up how many times I’m gonna jerk off thinking about how your tits look right now.”
The heat simmering in your chest flares white-hot, and your throat goes dry.
“I feel like your view might be a little obstructed,” you tell him, swallowing hard.
He chokes out another laugh, incredulous, like despite the fact that he knows you moan his name while you’re masturbating, he can’t believe that you’re insinuating you want to dump your tits out for him in this public pool in the middle of the night.
“Yeah?” he asks.
You nod, reaching behind you to unhook your bra, and an insistent lick of arousal crawls up your spine at the way he mutters, “Fuck,” under his breath as your soaking wet, naked breasts are inches away from his own bare chest.
Reaching down, you tug him a hair closer by the waistband of his boxers, biting your lip at the feeling of his erection that’s now pressed against your thigh.
“Fucking perfect,” he exhales, carefully reaching up to cup your tits in his hands, eyes darkening at the soft little moan you let out when he strokes his thumb over your pebbled nipples. “You’re so fucking perfect, you have no idea.”
And then you’re gently caressing the nape of his neck, and all it takes is a soft whisper of his name from your lips to have his mouth crashing into yours.
It’s messy and it’s desperate and it’s perfect, the way Kuroo’s lips fervently slide across yours, his tongue dancing across the seam of your lips until they part, the kiss deepening into something that has you dizzy with heady, unrestrained desire.
“Kuroo,” you whimper as he presses you flush against the wall, his cock a rock hard line against the puffy swell of your pussy.
And then you press back into him and nearly see stars at the friction, and he groans, rocking forward into you in turn. You spread your legs a little wider, halfway tempted to just wrap yourself around his waist and rub your cunt against his thick length, and clearly he has the same idea—because he grabs hold of your thighs and murmurs, “Keep going.”
You’d be more than a little worried about getting caught, if Kuroo wasn’t swallowing down each of your increasingly lewd moans and whines with rough, hungry kisses, sloppy trails of spit hanging between your mouths each time your lips part for air.
It feels so fucking good—dragging your cunt up and down his length, your nerve endings flaring with hot, sharp bursts of pleasure.
But it’s not enough, not when you can feel just how big his cock is, when your pussy is pathetically clenching around nothing with each thrust.
You don’t realize you’ve moaned the same words out loud that you whine in the dark in your room until Kuroo curses, his grip on your hips tightening as he outright drags you against him.
“Fuck me, Kuroo.”
Almost the same words—
“That’s not what I heard you say last night,” he rasps, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
You stare at him for a beat before you slowly say, “Fuck me, Tetsurou.”
Kuroo groans, his forehead falling against yours, and he kisses you roughly before reaching between your bodies, tugging aside your thong to slide his fingers through your slick folds. Even despite the water you’re currently swimming in, slick arousal coats the walls of your cunt, and you nearly come right then and there as he appreciatively moans as he explores your tight, desperate hole with one thick finger, which is soon joined by a second as he stretches you open.
By the time he starts teasing the head of his shaft against your slit, you’re two seconds from begging for it, a sob on the tip of your tongue as your fingers claw into his back.
He chuckles.
The fantasy of your vibrator is nothing compared to the fat stretch of Kuroo’s cock as he finally sinks past your quivering entrance, burying his shaft balls deep in the choking, clenching grasp of your cunt.
It’s nothing compared to the way Kuroo’s hips snap into yours as he holds you in his grasp while he fucks you right there in the pool, your tits bobbing in and out of the water with each plunge and drag. The wrecked manner in which he murmurs your name, the possessive way his hands roam your body, like he knows you nearly fucked someone else tonight.
(The way he fucks you like he knows you wanted it to be him all along.)
“Tetsurou,” you breathe out.
“I was wrong,” he gasps as he tries to bully his dick in even deeper, as you hump into him in turn, greedy for every inch.
“About what?”
“I thought you ruined me for anyone else the first time I heard you moan my name through the wall.” He exhales, pulling out before thrusting back inside of you. “But that doesn’t even come fucking close to this.”
You’re not entirely sure what’s the catalyst for the sudden climax that explodes within you—your pent up desire, the thumb he’s currently stroking across your throbbing clit, the raw honesty of his words.
All of it, likely.
Given the way you nearly black out under the force of your trembling, gushing orgasm, Kuroo groaning at the way your pussy expands and contracts against the stretch of his shaft, lost in an overload of pleasure.
“Inside,” you gasp out at the unasked question that lingers on his face as his own peak approaches.
Kuroo’s answering kiss is filthy as he groans into your mouth, cock pulsing heavily as he spills rope after rope of hot cum inside of you, filling you deep.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes out, forehead falling against yours as his orgasm tapers off, his shaft still nestled inside of you.
You float there in comfortable silence for a few moments, Kuroo pressing soft kisses along the side of your face.
“So—”
He freezes, waiting for whatever it is that you’re about to say.
You continue, “I don’t feel very confident in my ability to jump back over that fence now.”
Given the nearly liquified state of your sated limbs, which feel damn near close to jelly as your legs remain wrapped around Kuroo’s waist.
“The lock on the gate is broken anyway,” he shrugs.
You balk, “Then why’d you make me climb it in the first place?!”
He shrugs, not looking anywhere near apologetic as he replies casually, “Your ass looked good in those shorts.”
#kuroo tetsurou#tetsurou kuroo#kuroo tetsurou x reader#tetsurou kuroo x reader#haikyuu#dee writes#spicy sleepover weekend#roommate!kuroo
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Breathless
Summary: A bad habit that has consequences
Words: 1046
The flashing lights of paparazzi cameras illuminated the night, capturing Jenna Ortega in a moment that would soon be plastered all over social media. The young actress, beloved by millions, was caught with a cigarette in hand, the smoke curling up into the night sky. The pictures went viral almost instantly, eliciting reactions from fans, critics, and, most notably, her family. Jenna's mother was especially vocal about her disapproval, a sentiment echoed by the rest of her family. They knew Jenna had started smoking on set, a habit picked up in the chaotic world of Hollywood, but seeing it publicly displayed ignited a firestorm of concern and frustration.
Despite their pleas, Jenna continued smoking, a habit that became a part of her daily routine. She would often light up at home, the scent of tobacco lingering in the air. I, on the other hand, had never touched a cigarette in my life. The smoke bothered me at first, the acrid scent clinging to the furniture, my clothes, and even my hair. But I loved Jenna. She was my world, and though I disliked her smoking, I endured it because I knew how much stress she was under. I figured it was her way of coping, a temporary crutch in the high-pressure world she navigated every day.
Years passed, and Jenna's star only continued to rise. She became a household name, and with every new role, her fanbase grew. But alongside her success, her smoking habit persisted. By now, it had become second nature to her, a part of her routine as much as brushing her teeth or making coffee in the morning. I often found myself coughing, my chest tightening uncomfortably whenever the smoke hung too thick in the air. There were days when I felt short of breath, but I chalked it up to a cold or allergies. The thought that something could be seriously wrong never crossed my mind.
It wasn’t until I started losing weight rapidly, my energy levels plummeting, that I decided to see a doctor. The cough that had lingered for months turned into something more sinister, a persistent ache that gnawed at my insides. After a series of tests and a tense waiting period, the diagnosis came: lung cancer, stage three. The words hung in the air like a death sentence. The doctor explained that the cause was likely secondhand smoke, a byproduct of living with a smoker for so many years.
When I told Jenna, she was devastated. The color drained from her face as she realized the implications of what the doctor had said. This wasn't just any illness—this was a direct consequence of her habit. A habit she had nurtured and indulged, not realizing the price I would eventually pay. She cried for days, apologizing over and over, but I reassured her that I didn’t blame her. After all, it had been my choice to stay, my choice to love her despite her flaws. But deep down, I knew she carried the weight of this guilt, a burden she would never fully shake off.
The chemotherapy was brutal. Each session left me weaker than the last, my body battered and bruised by the relentless assault of drugs meant to kill the cancer. Jenna was by my side through it all, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep and constant worry. She quit smoking immediately, the sight of a cigarette now repulsive to her. She did everything she could to make me comfortable, but the cancer had spread too far, too fast. The doctors were honest with us—it was only a matter of time.
As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I grew weaker. My once-strong body was now frail, a shadow of the person I used to be. Breathing became difficult, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a sigh of resignation. I knew my time was running out, and I accepted it with a calmness I hadn’t expected. I had lived a good life, a happy life, despite the challenges. And Jenna, for all her faults, had made me happier than I ever thought possible.
When the end was near, I made one final request: I wanted to go home. The hospital was cold, sterile, a place where people went to fight for their lives. But I wasn’t fighting anymore. I just wanted to be in a place that felt familiar, surrounded by the memories of a life well-lived. Jenna arranged everything, bringing me home and setting up a bed in the living room where the sunlight streamed in through the windows.
The last few days were a blur of pain and medication. I could feel myself slipping away, my consciousness fading in and out like a weak radio signal. But Jenna was always there, holding my hand, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of my fading life. I remember the last time I opened my eyes, her face blurry but unmistakable, framed by the soft afternoon light. She was crying, her tears falling silently onto our clasped hands.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything."
I mustered what little strength I had left and smiled at her, a weak but genuine smile. "I forgive you," I said, my voice barely a breath. "You gave me a happy life, Jenna. That's all that matters."
And in that moment, as I looked into her tear-filled eyes, I felt a deep sense of peace. I had no regrets, no anger, only love for the woman who had been my everything. I closed my eyes, holding onto that final image of her, my heart full even as my body failed. And then, with one last breath, I let go, slipping away into the quiet darkness, leaving Jenna with the memories of our life together and the lesson learned from a habit that had cost us both so dearly.
Jenna would go on to live her life, forever changed by the experience. She would tell our story to others, a cautionary tale of love, loss, and the heavy price of a moment’s indulgence. And though I was gone, I knew she would carry me with her, in her heart, every step of the way.
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