#The Forgotten Book 1: The Cure

[katrinafaire]

It Saturday ❗Tell Story 💣

STORYTELLER SATURDAY -- ACCEPTING!

Thank you for the ask! So, storytime about the process and a little bit about the characters (if there's something specific you want, though, pop in the ask)!

Writing Mechanics

I'm actually almost on to my second draft of The Cure -- I have over 100,000 words written in draft one and I'm still not quite done, my chapters are at least 2000 words long. It's a lot to keep track of, to be honest? So I have a chart with a few columns.

Chapter # (where it starts)

Subject (like, what or who it's regarding)

Initial Action (what happens regarding that subject)

Payoff (where there's a call back or fulfilling foreshadowing)

Involvement (who all is involved in the whole thing)

I originally did this mostly for foreshadowing and fulfillment, but it's also great for callbacks and tracking things to reference later. You can also fill it out in retrospect when you realize something matters that you hadn't consciously meant for it to be significant.

Character Development: Greatest Strength, Greatest Weakness

BRIA'S greatest strength, I think, is her ability to hold on to hope even when it doesn't seem realistic anymore. Her ability to look in the brightside, to be ruthlessly positive and hopeful even if only out of spite, are traits I actually try to cultivate myself.

Her greatest weakness is probably her tendency to look to others to make decisions. A lot of that is because she literally graduates from the academy during the book and does feel outclassed, as well as being younger than her friends..

GRIMOIRE'S greatest strength is, by in-universe design, his ability to learn, retain, and understand new knowledge at an insane pace.

His greatest weakness is not taking action on more emotional matters; two of the biggest examples are in his relationships with Bria and Luca and not pushing harder to have the relationships he was pining for.

LUCA'S greatest strength is his emotions, he feels strongly and deeply and also has wildly accurate intuition though he doesn't always understand it until things are happening.

His greatest weakness is also his emotions. Those strong feelings drive him and dictate a lot of his choices, including leading to a pre-book falling out with Grimoire that really could have been solved with a long, heartfelt conversation, or at least wasn't a problem yet.

Aahhhh, I do love my babies! Hope the first part helps somebody and the second part drums up some interest! I'll start sharing the story as soon as I'm on Draft 2, but in the meantime I can talk alllllll about characters, the world, and even some of the plot and premise.

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

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.

[consoledacup]

My favorite kiss has to be the one that puts everything into motion. I don't think I've ever seen a better first kiss on screen in my life. Stunning job by all departments.

It was like watching two souls meeting for the first time. There was something so ethereal and other-worldly about their first kiss, from the costuming to the dimly lit scene, to the stone and greenery... it was magic, and you could feel all of it.

I would love to wax poetic about the scoring here. First of all, their motif is my favorite, although I'm admittedly biased. But what I love about the song "Never Been Kissed" is how majestic it is. How you can easily see the beats of this scene unfold from the different melodic movements. And then when you rewatch, you realize that this motif has been introduced in the very first scene of Colin and Penelope this season and has been constantly recurring before the first kiss even happens.

And then, because the first kiss is so monumental, Kris Bowers uses their theme to propel almost every scene Colin and Penelope are in after. It's like, an audible cue that Colin and Penelope have not forgotten that kiss, or each other, no matter what they say otherwise. That motif is in almost every song in the season's original score soundtrack.

If you've read the book, the writing, the direction, the acting, the staging, the scenery... it all comes to life from the page. And that is absolutely wild because the book scene isn't even set in the same place or time of day.

You see Nicola form the word "Would" and can immediately recalling Colin thinking, "A w always looks a kiss." The direct quotes from the book do not feel campy or artificial but like they've been given new life.

The dichotomy of where Colin and Penelope are before and after the kiss is so great because it's all so believable.

Penelope felt everything in that kiss. She told herself that if this is all she had with the man she's loved forever, it would be okay. She's heartbroken and sad, but for the first time, she's brave enough to let her feelings for him shine through her. I love how Penelope flees, and you see her gorgeous hair flying after her in her pale gown. She's a fairytale princess, saying goodbye to her Prince Charming.

And Colin is just standing there, completely in awe of her.

In season 1, when Marina advances towards Colin, they are a breath apart before he puts a stop to it. You can see that although he says he is "tempted," he's actually kind of uncomfortable with her forwardness. They don't share the same connection that he has always shared with Penelope, so it is extremely easy for Colin to act like a gentleman and gently let her down.

That's why his feelings for Penelope click for him right away. He was a master of harmless flirting. He was in a passionless engagement. He was engaging in emotionless trysts. And none of it did anything to cure him of his restlessness and loneliness.

But with Penelope, he felt the emotion, he felt meaning, he felt passion, he felt need, he felt the tenderness, and he felt like they were the only two people in that entire world in that moment.

Penelope's bold and brazen request swept Colin off his feet, and I will forever be grateful for this masterpiece of a scene.

[caeli0306]

Initial theories after reading and digesting Onyx Storm:

Are they a bit crazy? Yeah, obviously. I’ll probably change my mind a dozen times, but here are my thoughts. Keep in mind I haven’t done any rereads and haven’t touched the book since I finished it so I could digest, so I might have forgotten something that would discredit these.

(Spoilers below the cut for obvious reasons)

1) Violet’s Second Signet

We were told in the very first book that signets are a manifestation of what a rider needs/who they are at their core. When Violet’s second signet is revealed, she thinks it manifested because Andarna was in the Dreamless Sleep. However, we also know that she can, to a degree, communicate through dreams and can even view Xaden’s dreams when he was hundreds of miles away. There were a lot of people that said that Violry manifesting dream walking retconned the established magic system, but I disagree. I think she manifested dream walking because she had no way of communicating with the people she loved (Xaden was in Samara, Andarna was asleep). Additionally, Andarna had limited control over time before she fell asleep. This might be a stretch, but its also possible that her time-based abilities allowed Violet to manifest a signet that she will need/is a reflection of her at her core in the future. In other words, she manifested an ability that would allow her to find or talk to Xaden after he disappeared, something she would desperately want in the aftermath of Draithus due to her memory loss, etc. I think dream walking will be crucial in the next book for Violet to communicate with Xaden, figure out what happened during those 12 hours, etc.

2) The Compass

Violet got a broken compass during the trial on Zihnal’s isle that she specifically says doesn’t point north. RY isn’t the type to include a detail like that off-the-cuff, imo. I think the compass likely points to something Violet will need to find in the next book (possibly Xaden or maybe another isle where information on a cure can be found).

3) Sgaeyl’s Bonds

Xaden disappeared at the end of the book, likely along with Sgaeyl. In his chapter, Sgaeyl said that Xaden’s plan would require help from someone, but neither specify who, just that Violet and Tairn would need to agree to it. When Violet wakes up, she says she can’t feel Xaden at all. Andarna, meanwhile, has already demonstrated that she’s able to sever bonds since she “is” magic. Assuming that Sgaeyl is with Xaden, it’s possible that Andarna severed the mating bond between Tairn and Sgaeyl. This would serve multiple purposes — first, it would eliminate the need for Tairn and Sgaeyl to be near each other (important, since Xaden told Violet not to look for him). It would also mean that if Xaden is killed, it wouldn’t risk Violet’s death as well. Alternatively, Andarna severed the bond between Xaden and Sgaeyl, although I think this is less likely.

[flowers-of-april]

april showers bring may flowers: prompt list

I told you I'd see you next year.

Flower meanings are sourced from this book on flower meanings

PROMPT LIST

1: Aster: Daintiness 2: Foxglove: Riddles/Secrets 3: Edelweiss: Courage/Daring 4: Marigold: Grief 5: Hawthorn: Hope 6: Gladiolus: You Pierce My Heart 7: Sunflower: False Riches 8: Dahlia: Eternal Love/Commitment 9: Asphodel: Regrets to the Grave 10: Bluebell: Humility/Faithfulness 11: Camellia: Longing for You 12: Basil: Hate 13: Yarrow: Cure for a Broken Heart 14: Hellebore: We Shall Overcome Scandal & Slander 15: Rosemary: Remembrance/Wisdom 16: Ivy: Fidelity/Attachment 17: Wheat: Riches/Abundance 18: Olive: Peace 19: Peony: Bashfulness 20: Clover: Good Luck 21: Snapdragon: Presumption 22: Baby's Breath: Purity/Innocence 23: Columbine: Foolishness 24: Zinnia: Everlasting Friendship 25: Passionflower: Faith 26: Apple Blossom: Preference 27: Tansy: Hostility 28: Cowslip: Winning Grace 29: Larkspur: Levity 30: Hydrangea: Boastfulness/Heartlessness

ALTERNATIVE PROMPTS

Bouquet 1: Sympathy Chrysanthemum: Condolences Marigold: Grief Lily of the Valley: Better Days Ahead Cypress: Mourning Mint: Consolation

Bouquet 2: Forgotten Obligations Columbine: Foolishness Rue: Regret Anemone: Forsaken Love Forget-Me-Not: Won't Forget Again Rosemary: Remembrance

Bouquet 3: Warnings Begonia: Warning Oleander: Caution Lavender: Distrust Foxglove: Secrecy

Bouquet 4: New Beginnings Crocus: Youthful Glee Daisy: Innocence/Childhood Purity Lilac: First Love Baby's Breath: Purity/Innocence Wheat: Riches

Bouquet 5: Friendship Zinnia: Everlasting Friendship Apple Blossom: Preference Pansy: A Friend Often Thought Of Eucalyptus: Strengthened Bonds

The only 'rule' is to please have fun. You may tag "Flowers of April" or "Flowers of April 2025" on AO3; or "flowersofapril2025" on Tumblr, if you so wish.

And please feel free to submit to the FlowersofApril2025 collection on AO3; I've left it open and unmoderated.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Miss Raven! I’m new to twisted wonderland, so I’m still confused by a lot of things, and I still can’t understand Idia’s curse and what it exactly does. Also, I don’t understand, why his friends memories will be erased? Can you explain it to me? I’m really lost

I believe you’re bringing up some points I mentioned from this post (since I got this ask shortly after that original post went live)?

Your questions are answered in book 6 of the main story. However, I realize that not everyone has access to the game, the time to read/watch it, and/or the cards to power through to that deep in the story. It’s easy for newcomers to understand the gist in the beginning (~prologue and book 1), but books 6 and 7 are packed with detail and lore that can be overwhelming to understand without sufficient context.

Firstly, the Shroud family curse originates from the Age of the Gods. The Shrouds are considered a branch family to the Jupiter family, and during this time period they attempted to overthrow them. For their defiance, they and all their descendants were inflicted with a curse which quickly burns away blot (the byproduct of magic). This seems like a strength (since that means it’s hard for a Shroud to overblot), but in reality it condemns them since their bodies will start to burn away at their own magic/life force if there isn’t any blot around to consume. In other words, the curse is detrimental to the health of Shroud mages.

Back when mages were still feared and the relationship between magic and lot was not well understood, the Jupiters sealed away overblots and a Watchman (from the Shroud family) was appointed to guard them. Over time, the Watchmen would become Styx, a secret independent organization that researches blot. Some Shrouds they could perhaps find a cure for their curse through these endeavors. Being around blot for their work also technically benefits them, as their bodies would burn the blot in their environment, thus making it less burdensome on the Shrouds’ physical status. However, Idia often phrases their circumstances as shackling and restrictive, as the Shrouds have basically been put in positions they cannot escape from due to the nature of their curse. His childhood is also presented to us as very dreary, as he grew up in Styx HQ, isolated from the real world and in a sterile environment surrounded by Styx staff.

In book 6, Idia reveals himself to the OB boys up until that point as the acting director of Styx. He then proceeds to conduct experiments on them and they goof off a little as well. Ortho expresses hope that Idia could maybe become friends with the OB boys, to which Idia is pessimistic and claims it’s pointless to try since they’ll “be sent down the River Lethe” eventually. In Greek mythology, that river is said to wipe the memories of those that submerge itself in its waters; in TWST, it’s a special program thar Styx uses to purge the memories of outsiders brought into their HQ. This would allow the outsiders to return to normal life without issue while also preserving the secrecy of Styx. It’s like… the ultimate NDA 😂

Because the OB boys are outsiders, Styx has to wipe their memories as a safety precaution before they can be released. This means that all of the fun times Idia spends with them in Styx will be forgotten too, so Idia doesn’t believe it’s worth it to make an effort to befriend them. It’s implied that Idia has always been pessimistic about his chances at forming friendships because of his isolated upbringing in combination with the expectation that he is going to become the future director of Styx—a thankless job that forces him to toil in a cold, dark place, far away from any intimate human connections.

Hope that helps ^^

[darklove9314-blog]

Hunger Games Reread

Chapter 1 discussion

So after I finished Sunrise on the Reaping I felt like the best way to cure my book hangover for this one was to reread the Hunger Games for the first time in over a decade.

After reading chapter 1 there was so much about this book series I had forgot about, for starters I forgot about how Panem was created. I had not recalled that Panem was built after climate change and natural disasters had destroyed North America. I remembered how The Hunger Games had started out, but for whatever reason my mind had forgotten this detail.

Another detail I notice very early on in this book is Gale and Katniss’s discussions about having children. I know there are a couple of people who share their displeasure about how Katniss became a mom at the end of the series. However, she explicitly states that she only doesn’t want to have children because she doesn’t want to subject them to the Hunger Games nor does she want another mouth to feed because she’s already taking care of her family. But at the end of the series, Katniss does change her mind about wanting kids because her circumstances have changed.

Another thing I want to touch upon is Gale’s character and the things I notice about him so many years later right off the bat. His anger and rage at the circumstances that the capitol has put him and others in comes off the page right off the bat. Which makes a lot of sense considering what him and the other people who are apart of the seams have been through. Even Katniss herself understands Gale’s anger, but also doesn’t not see the point of it unless he’s willing to change things.

Also I would like to point out that Lucy Gray is mentioned in this chapter when Katniss is recalling who in her district has won the Hunger games. She explicitly states that there have been only two victors from District 12 and only one of them is alive (which is Haymitch) so she is mentioned in the first book.

Also now that we have further context about the Mockingjay and how it was crafted for Maysilee by one of the Covey, and now it is in Madge’s possession (Maysilee’s niece) it makes me tear up that much more.

But those are my thoughts so far on chapter 1. I’ll be doing a discussion on all the chapters and we’ll be rereading the whole series (including Ballad and Sunrise on the Reaping)

[bananaguyboi]

[[ SNEAK PEEK ]]

Yep, yep, just- yeah-

Suffers-

Idk even know what to say other than yeah- This is the part where I spend an unnecessary amount of time detailing the damn room, and movements lmao.

( Took me 1-2 hours? Maybe even 3- )

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

Tang Bo opened the door, and entered his bedroom.

He expected his room to be covered with cobwebs, and dusted furniture, However, to his surprise, his eyes was greeted by how perfectly polished the room is. Everything was tailored with beautiful, and organized furniture, his desk was glimmering spotlessly, his bed mattress looked as new, and the corners of his room had a sparkling vase with a fresh white tulips that he never even placed.

Tang Bo whistled, and observed the room.

Compared to the last he had seen it, which was littered with crumpled papers, neglected books, and wasted poisons. This looked freshly made, as if someone was taking care of it.

Tang Bo trudge his way in middle of the room, and noticed a large painting hanging above his bed.

The painting was eye-catching.

A man of grandeur, wearing a perfectly tailored black outfit with a green robe draped over him. His chestnut hair with a few grey strands, tied in a bun with a hairpin. The man wore extravagant jewelries around his neck, and golden bracelet on his wrist.

The painting of the man was familiar yet he wasn't.

It was a portrait of the Dark Saint of the Tang Family.

Tang Bo tilted his head.

Who would go so far for someone like him?

From what he remembered, he was hated, and feared by his entire family due to his "lack of discipline" or whatever they call it, so he was sure that he'd be forgotten out of disrespect.

He even had a back-up plan in case that if his room now entirely belongs to another higher-up person from the Tang Family, but he never could have expected this.

Tang Bo shook his head, and spotted something.

'Kkiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii' the marten left Tang Bo's shoulder, and scurry it's way to a desk with a lantern.

It sniffed something, and burried its head to the drawers.

It held a hair pin up in the hair, continuesly sniffing

Tang bo's eyes went blank.

A pink hair pin.

Tang Bo pursed his lips.

He made his way to the cabinet, and snatched the pin away from the marten.

The marten frowned, "..Kkiiii....."

"It's not for you to play"

"Kliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii !" The Marten stomped its foot at Tang Bo, but he simply ignored it.

He gently held the hair pin and observed it. The item was still polished, and gleaming. Tang Bo's eyes flickered.

'Why is it here?'

From what he remembered, he died while wearing it.

It was simply impossible for someone to recover it.

Unless..

...

Tang Bo closed his eyes shut, and gripped the hair pin.

Maybe dying first was a blessing.

So, that he wouldn't have to witness his death.

He lowered his eyelid, and impassively stared at the item he is holding.

He could imagine Chung Myung hitting him in the head, and cursing him.

With a huge sigh, Tang Bo used the pink hair pin, and tied half of his hair to a bun.

He walked his way to the drawers, and haphazardly rummaged his hands through his stuff.

"The Ginseng root is in here somewhere...."

Shuffle, shuffle.

"Not this."

Shuffle, Shuffle.

"Nope, not this either.."

Shuffle..

'?'

Tang Bo paused as he saw the coffer. "There you are" he whispered with a grin.

He opened the lid with gleaming eyes, but soon stopped, and stared intently at the insides of the coffer.

One..

One ginseng root..

Only one left..?

...

HUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH????????????????????????

WASN'T THERE SUPPOSED TO BE TEN OF THEM?

Tang Bo's face contorted. One?

one.

ONE.

O N E !

This would take him a whole YEAR for him to be cured!

"WHO ATE MY GINSENG ROOT!" He fiercely slammed the coffer to the ground.

His head swiftly shifted to the door. "THOSE TANG BASTARDS-"

Fucking..- alright, let's calm down..

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

Hope that I atleast portray the comedy, and the kind of sad scenes in a decent way hehe.

Also yeah- It's a bit fast paced as usual lmao- might need to fix that

[a-fox-studies]

And just like that, a year has gone by.

Hello, I'm Iris, a disabled undergrad student navigating through life. This year has been CRAZY.

If I think about it, 2024 has been a year full of treatments that haven't worked, my disability getting worse, so much pain, so much failure. I completed my first year of undergrad, and figured out routines for myself, and decided how I want my day to be structured. And I think those can count as wins too.

But I think the biggest win of all was that I made it. I made it through this hell of a year.

Looking back, a lot of people have helped me, knowingly or unknowingly.

Thankyou @studaxy for never leaving my side.

Thankyou @sadiests, @winryrockbellwannabe, @inkblotfeathers for being the positive force and motivation I needed.

Thankyou @guz013 for being patient with me lol, I know that I can be a handful sometimes.

Thankyou @montecarloedexistence for just every conversation we've had lol, you're amazing.

Thankyou @sapphicacademic for starting the AMAZING studyblr server, we even had its 1 year anniversary in november! You have changed my life, even though it may not seem like it.

Thankyou @moose-mousse for keeping the codeblr server alive and also helping me whenever I needed help and explaining concepts to me patiently. Your git tutorial is amazing!

Thankyou to all my followers, moots, others who I might forgotten to mention, and anyone who decided to like or reblog or even read through my posts. It means a lot to me <3

I don't have many high expectations of 2025. Maybe I'd complete writing my first book. Maybe I'd lose some weight. Maybe I would get cured. Maybe not. Either way, I'm excited for what the future holds for me. I am excited to meet new people, share new ideas, have deep conversations about life and goofy talks about nothing in particular. I'm excited to give all the love in my heart to the people around me, to gain opportunities to help and make other people's lives better. I'm excited to continue this journey of life, even though it sucks sometimes.

Here's to 2k25!🥂

[lendeah]

bound by duty, haunted by dreams

chapter 1

Summary: You hated him —his selfishness, egocentrism, and lack of morals. He represented everything you stood against. But then, why was he the one plaguing your dreams night after night? Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav Word Count: 2.5k Tags: Enemies to Lovers, they really hate each other, Human! Tav , Paladin! Tav , Mind Manipulation, eventual smut.

a/n: I don't know if I will write more of this or I will leave it as a two shot! I probably will. LMK if you enjoy it :)

AO3 link

You detested him. You knew your oath was to love every person, despite their past, despite their beliefs, despite... everything, basically. But you couldn't. Stand. Him. His very presence irked you, sending prickles of discomfort crawling up your spine. That smug, self-righteous smirk. His constant complaints. His utter disgust for all living beings except himself. But the worst of all was his horrible and overt attempts at flirting. It almost made you gag.

You could tell that he felt the same way towards you, judging by the constant sour glances he shot your way at camp. He would sneer when you offered help to those in need and make sly remarks after showing kindness towards your companions. It seemed like everything you stood for was the very antithesis of his beliefs.

At first, you thought you just had to get to know him. You can't judge a book by its cover, after all. But the more time you spent around him, the less you liked him. And it all came crashing down when you had the worst argument about the tiefling situation. The coward wanted us to leave them in the middle of the night! Oh, and rob them of every valuable in order to have money for the trip!

As much as you detested each other, you couldn't deny the fact that you were both in the same boat. Literally. The cursed tadpole had tethered your fates together, forcing you to work together to find a cure. And then there was the oath to Ilmater, the deity of compassion and endurance, which bound you to show kindness and mercy towards all beings.

Your oath did not include being spiteful, but whenever he was near, all you could think about was kicking his-

"Soldier, if you keep looking at him I am afraid he is going to grow another head."

Karlach was giving you a funny look from across the fire. You huffed in annoyance, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you sipped on the stew. The two of you were the last ones having dinner, as the rest of the party had either retired for the night or were on watch duty. This was why Astarion was also lingering around. You tried to ignore his presence, focusing on the warmth of the fire and the comforting taste of the stew. But your eyes kept drifting towards him - the source of all your frustration.

"Maybe that would make him bearable to be around, or maybe they would just argue with each other so much I wouldn't have to listen to either."

"Or they would end up tearing each other apart like rabid animals, competing for attention," she laughed.

You couldn't help but let out a small smile at Karlach's joke, the tension between you and him momentarily forgotten.

"I don't know how much longer I can take it," you grumbled, poking at your stew with your spoon.

"You know wha' we need t'do to get rid o' each other? Find a cure for 'is damn tadpole," Karlach mumbled through a mouthful of food. What was it, her fourth bowl of stew?

She gulped, "Why do you hate him so much anyway?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling your shoulders slump. "I don't hate him. I just can't stand him," you admitted, your voice laced with annoyance. "He's always so smug and heighty, so selfish. And I loathe selfishness. And the way he looks at me like...like I'm some kind of nuisance."

Karlach raised an eyebrow, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.

"Well, I can't argue with any of that; he does tend to have a stick up his ass. But, to play devil's advocate, he is quite funny and nice when you get to know him."

You scoffed at Karlach's words, shaking your head. "I highly doubt that," you muttered under your breath.

Karlach rolled her eyes, leaning forward to speak closer to you,

"Look, I bet he's just a big softie underneath all that... exterior. So try playing nice for once, maybe you'll see a different side of him. We need him on our team, even if he's not the easiest to get along with." Karlach reminded you.

You raised an eyebrow at Karlach's suggestion, not sure if you were ready to try being nice to him. But then again, Karlach did have a point. It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

You sighed, feeling a tinge of guilt at the thought that maybe you weren't giving him a chance. People usually liked you - maybe you just hadn't put in enough effort with him.

"Fine. I'll try," you grumbled, still not fully convinced.

Karlach grinned triumphantly, little flames dancing around her body. "That's the spirit, soldier!" she exclaimed, raising her bowl of stew in a mock salute.

You turned around and found he was still there, distractedly looking at his nails.

Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

He caught your eye momentarily, a slight raise of his eyebrow before nonchalantly turning and striding towards his tent.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, you bid Karlach a goodnight and began walking towards the elf.

"Hey, Astarion," you called out once you reached his tent.

In a swift motion, he spun around and gave you an assessing look. For a moment, his piercing eyes glinted red, causing a mix of fear and irritation to wash over you.

"Yes?" he asked, his tone polite but dismissive.

Ugh. You wanted to punch his face already.

But instead, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm.

"I just wanted to say... thank you," you said. Yeah, gratitude. Everyone likes gratitude.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your words, but he quickly composed himself.

"Thank me? I must warn you now, if what you intend is to lecture me about my behaviour it will be all for nought." His words dripped with arrogance he made no attempt to hide it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his pompous attitude.

"No, I just wanted to express my gratitude..." For what? What had he actually done besides constantly complaining and giving disapproving looks at your every decision? "...for staying awake at night to keep watch." Yes, that would suffice.

Astarion narrowed his red eyes and his lips quirked with genuine confusion.

"Why thank you very much, but I am not a child to be lauded for performing the most basic act of the task I have been assigned," Astarion replied, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Then again, I guess your whole 'selfless Paladin nature' compels you to praise me. You looked like it was about to tear you up to do so, I might say. It was quite amusing to witness."

"I'm just trying to be polite," you replied, keeping your tone flat. "Not that you know the meaning of it, anyway."

His grin widened as he stepped closer to you, his tone teasing, "I do so like it when you try so hard to maintain that decorum of yours. Though you would do well to keep practicing. Your good intentions do not excuse the self-righteous stick up your ass."

This motherf-

You gritted your teeth and resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He always seemed to enjoy provoking a reaction out of you.

"I'm not here to argue with you."

"No, you are here to bother me. Which is having the opposite effect of what I am sure you hoped."

"Oh, you are insufferable!" you clenched your fists, the anger evident in your voice.

As you walked away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You wanted to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew it was pointless. Instead, you headed towards your tent and forcefully zipped the flap closed behind you, letting out a frustrated groan.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. This was not the first time Astarion had gotten under your skin, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. You reminded yourself of your oath. Ilmater. Empathy, sympathy and forgiveness. Ugh. It was hard, especially when dealing with someone like him.

But it was your sacred duty to show compassion and mercy to all, even those who seemed undeserving of it. You took another deep breath , composing yourself. You had faced way worse back home. This was nothing. Just an arrogant aristocrat. If he refused your help, so be it. You would turn your attention to those who were truly in need.

You snuggled deep into your bedroll, the soft fabric enveloping you like a cocoon. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes. Tomorrow would be a better day, you were sure.

As sleep came to you, dreams began weaving their way into your consciousness. Suddenly, you weren't in your bedroll anymore, but in the middle of a beautiful, glittering forest. An ethereal light danced around the tall trees and a clear stream ran through it, its water shimmering with tiny specks of silver.

A rustle in the dense foliage caught your attention, causing you to turn and see Astarion. He appeared like a phantom, emerging from your own thoughts with his white hair cascading around his face like a halo.

Great, now he is also hunting my dreams.

The illusion of Astarion turned around, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment as his eyes locked onto your figure. It was as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Well, that makes two of us, you told yourself.

"If it isn't Calendula, the noble paladin, sauntering over," Astarion said, his smirk evident even in the dark.

You cringed at the use of your full name, a jab that he knew would get under your skin.

"Astarion," you greeted him flatly. "I see even my dreams aren't safe from your onslaught."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion "Dreams? What do you-" And then his face lit up. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes and a sly smile spread across his lips, showing his pointed canines. What in the sweet hells is going through his mind? Well, my mind.

Astarion stepped closer, his eyes scanning you up and down. "Well well, I see my charms finally beginning to work on you, my dear paladin." You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "In your dreams, Astarion." "Ah but this is your dream, darling. And I must say, it's quite a lovely one," he said, dragging a fingertip along one of the plants.

You let out an exasperated sigh.

"I can't believe this is what my brain settled for in a good night of sleep."

"Oh come now" He said taking another step closer, his head tilted slightly, "If you truly wanted a peaceful, pleasant dream you would have imagined the sun shining brightly and a beautiful castle or a field of flowers or... whatever it is you paladins enjoy. But your brain, in the dark depths of the night seeks me and only me."

You scoffed at his words. "How do you even know what I do or do not want anyway? You are a product of my brain."

His fingers finally made contact with your skin, his touch icy cold and sending shivers down your spine. It felt so real, you couldn't help but wonder if this was really just a dream.

"I am but a product of your imagination, darling. But exactly because of that, I can feel your desires, your fantasies, your deepest thoughts." he smirked, "And darling, I know that I am what you desire."

Was he? He was a creation of your own mind, therefore he was essentially a part of yourself. But then again, if he was a part of you, did that mean the words he spoke were a reflection of your own truth? It was all so confusing and overwhelming.

Despite your doubts, you couldn't help but steal glances at him - the mole on his cheek, the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his smile. He was undeniably attractive, almost too good to be true. It wasn't so far fetched to think your mind had recreated him. However, you wished it had made him mute.

"I don't desire you," you repeated firmly, trying to convince yourself more than him.

"Ah, and there is that noble pride again. Do you truly believe that your self-denying nature means you haven't thought of me? Of us?" He stepped closer until he was inches away."Tell me, have you ever had any impure thoughts? Thoughts that go against everything Ilmater stands for?"

Your heart raced at his words, eyes widening in shock. Pink lips against yours, teeth piercing soft skin, cold hands up your...

Stop.

You paused briefly before answering. "No, I follow the teachings of Ilmater which guide me towards virtue and moral uprightness. However, I am not bound by a vow of celibacy. I simply direct all of my focus towards my devotion."

Astarion's smirk grew wider at your statement, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, but it's ok," he whispered, "I know your thoughts. I have seen them, deep inside your mind. I know you want to know how it feels to be touched, to be loved and worshipped back."

The realism was uncanny, right from the soft fur lining of his cloak to the scent of him - leather and pine with a hint of musky sweetness. It was just like the real Astarion, perfectly irritating and irresistible all at once. His presence was intoxicating and you found yourself wanting to lean into his touch.

This is a dream. None of this is real. Astarion wasn't here. He wasn't stepping closer to you again; he wasn't bringing his face dangerously near yours; he wasn't placing his hand on your waist pulling you closer till there was no space left between your bodies.

You could feel his lips almost brushing along your neck. He ran a hand up to the back of your head, fingers weaving into your curls, his voice a low murmur. "Tell me, dearest, what happens when your body desires things your mind believes are wrong?"

You gulped, your hands fisted at your sides, "I-I don't know."

"Do you want to find out?" Astarion's lips grazed your skin again, sending sparks of desire through your body. "I've always found that when the body and the mind disagree... it's always best to follow the body."

Your breath was ragged, brain scrambling for a semblance of sense. You knew you were going to give in. It's just a dream, you told yourself.

No consequences, no judgments.

Just as you were on the brink of surrender, a sudden and sharp tug jolted you from your slumber. Your eyes flew open to reveal the familiar surroundings of your tent. You were back in back in your bedroll, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. A throbbing headache pulsed through your skull.

Today didn't feel better at all.

a/n: hope you liked it! Lmk if you want to be added to a taglist☺️🫶🏻

[katrinafaire]

OC Moodboard

I got tagged for this forever ago by @ajkorvidian -- thanks, AJ! -- and have been sitting on ideas ever since. But today I summoned up the first protagonist you meet in the Luica books: Bria Hearth, one of three protags in The Cure.

RULES: make a collection of 5+ images that represent or symbolize one of your ocs! It can be in any way, for any reason! Just have fun with it.

And I most definitely had fun with it. This is largely symbolic, though some references are more direct than others.

"Knowledge is what you were taught; wisdom is what you've learned" -- Ambria "Bria" Hearth

The first book (The Cure) in the first series (The Forgotten) in the Luica Universe is my baby right now and the first character you meet, indeed the first POV character, is Bria, the beating heart of the novel.

Tagging... any of the small group who sees this! Tag me if you nab it so I can see!

[moestavern]

The HOMOE Masterpost

Shoutout to @butchbarneygumble for oking me to steal this idea from their Moeney Masterpost! Go peep that btw.

I see almost no one acknowledge all the gay shit these two have going on so i have to ship them all by myself and honestly that's unacceptable given how much this show implies between them. And with a ship name like Homoe? You have got to be kidding me they were handed to me on a golden fucking plater.

Blah blah i know these are jokes or w/e but its a show, no one here is real, you are not affected by me wanting these middle aged men to kiss each other (more than they already do) so lets get on with it!

This is currently only clips from the show, i will go through the comics/books/etc. if anything's hidden in there and ill add it to this post in the future.

This is gonna be a long post so everything is gonna be under the cut.

Episode: (S2E11) One Fish, Two Fish, Blow Fish, Blue Fish

Homer Kisses Moe. Moe responds with "not in public". So in private then?

H: Oh words wont do it- I love you Moe M: Not in public

---

Episode: (S8E3) The Homer they Fall

Just this whole episode.

H: Are you an angel? M: Yes Homer, Im an angel. All us angles wear Farah slacks. H: But you stopped the fight. Wont everyone be mad at you? M: Eh, lettem be mad. The only thing that matters to me is your'e safe. - D: Homer, your manager obviously loves you very much.

---

Episode: (S9E16) Dumbbell Indemnity

Dancing together + hints throughout. "if you squint" kinda stuff but ill take my breadcrumbs.

---

Episode: (S11E6) Hello Gutter Hello Fadder

Homer and Moe consider one another life partners.

Ma: Well, the one sure cure for the blues is to talk it over with your life partner. H: You're right! - H: I cant believe it Moe. The greatest feet of my life is already forgotten. M: Geez, Homer. I never seen ya this depressed. As your life partner, Im very worried.

---

Episode: (S11E10) Little Big Mom

When Lisa calls the tavern, Moe asks if Homer is going to another bar like its a cheating situation. Look at me however you want that's how im taking this. Moe's clingy.

M: Hey uh- is Homer there? L: No, he isn't. I dont know where he is. M: Im a little worried. He usually stops in for an eye opener on the way to work. L: He told us he'd been going to the gym. M: Uhahaha- Wow. Anyway, you dont think he could be at another bar do ya? Because i couldnt take that- i- i just couldnt. *crying*

---

Episode: (S11E16) Pygmoelian

Homer tells Moe his acting is a turn on.

M: The one hole ive never been able to fix is the one in my soul. H: That was amazing Moe. Im actually a little turned on. M: Yeah, hey i gotta gift.

---

Episode: (S16E7) Mommie Beerest

The thing i dont say is that i primarily ship all three of them together especially during late seasons. Reading "Moe takes the place of marge" jokes as shippy is- a bit of a stretch? whatever, it includes Moe telling Homer "i love you" and Homer calling Moe "Honey".

H: What would Marge say? M: Do whatever you have to do to save Moe's. I love my Homie. H: Ok honey, ill do it! Ma: What's going on here? M: Nothin- Nothing.

Also Homer and Moe sharing a bed 1/2.

---

Episode: (S17E5) Marge's Son Poisoning

If i had a nickel for every time Moe and Homer were called life partners id have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot but its weird that it happened twice. (This has to be a lie, im certain there is a third time this has happened, i have yet to find it again) "They're lying, they're trying to hustle" um stfu- idc that's his life partner. he said so.

RT: God dern it son- what tha hell kinna sissy are you? M: Hey are you calling my life partner a sissy? Cause a hundred bucks says he could whoop you in arm wrestling.

---

Episode: (S18E6: Moe n' a Lisa)

Moe tells Homer he loves him.

H: Seriously Moe, I think you have a gift. M: Thanks Homer, I love you man. H: OoooOH you love a man.

---

Episode: (S20E8) The Burns and The Bees

Moe explains bees having sex to Homer and Homer thinks Moe is talking about the two of them.

H: But how are we supposed to combine the DNA of two strains of the same species? M: Actually Homer *whispering* H: *gasp* You and me? M: No. The bees. H: Oh! Yeah yeah. That's what i meant too. I... have no... inclination...

---

Episode: (S21E30 The Great Wife Hope)

Moe takes Homer dressed as Marge to his class reunion. He says he took Barney the year before.

M: Lets go Marge. My class reunion starts in an hour. H: Uh, Moe, i have a confession to make. Im just Homer dressed as Marge. M: Yeah, but last year i took Barney dressed as Marge. Think how much better they'll think you look. Hmm? H: Well you better not leave me and talk to your old friends all night. M: Keep talkin like that and ill leave ya here right now.

---

Episode: (S21E21) Moe Letter Blues

Homer kisses Moe.

H: Moe, i dont know rather to punch you or kiss you. So im gonna do both.

---

Episode: (S24E2) Treehouse of Horror XXIV

Look, i know its a demon that looks like Moe and NOT Moe. But cmon what was this???

H: Listen, pal, you seem like an honest guy. Is there any other deal you can accept? D: Three way. H: Hm- You, me, Marge? D: Demon, demon, you. H: Sigh- I guess its one of those things a dad has to do. - H: Now before we start, what's the safe word? D: Cinnamon H: Oh! I like that. Now, id like to try something new, if you dont mind. D: Cinnamon. Cinnamon! Cinnamon! Cinnamon!

---

Episode: (S25E12) Diggs

Ok- so the way Bart describes his feeling for Diggs is really queer and Homer immediately compares that to his feelings towards Moe.

B: I met this kid. Little older. Kinda strange. I dont think other people get him but i just wanna hang out with him all the time. H: *gasps* Its even better than i thought. You found your Moe Szyslak!

---

Episode: (S27E10) The Girl Code

Homer kisses Moe.

M: Hey what tha hell? Get your kisser off my head puss! H: What? Its how greek men say 'hello'. Non sexual guy kissing is the best.

---

Episode: (S28E4) Treehouse of Horror XXVII

Moe kisses a picture of Homer twice.

Thanks @leibi97 for remembering this one for me!

--- Episode: (S28E13) Fatzcarraldo

Homer calls Moe his "sweet wonderful bartender"

H: i had a great day and i really wanna celebrate with the boys so dont wait up for me my sweet wonderful bartender, Moe. M: Alright but whos the boys? H: Marge's boobs. See ya!

---

Episode: (S29E16) King Leer

Homer carrying Moe into the store. But also i like this episode over all from a Homoearge standpoint.

M: When i cross this threshold i begin a new life! *Picked up by Homer* This is the first time that ive ever been carried into a store. Look at me now lady foot locker! Look at me now.

---

Episode: (S32E15) Do Pizza Robots Dream of Electric Guitars

Ok guys THIS is what im talking about when i say in later seasons i kinda ship all three of them.

Ma: Did you see how he ate his breakfast? He doesn't shuffle his pancakes like a deck of cards. He doesn't air drum while driving, or race the dog in butt scooting across the carpet. And he always won. He's not my Homie anymore. B: We didnt notice any of that. Ma: A wife knows. M: And a bartender. Hes just- hes just not the same. He dont spin Barney around on the stool no more. He dont drink beer from a crazy straw just a sensible straw. What are we gonna do about our little man Midge? Ma: Were just gonna have to love him that much more. M: I didnt think that was possible. - B: Im used to seeing mom upset about dad, but Moe. That really shook me.

---

Episode: (S35E7) Its A Blunderful Life

They love each other :)

M: How dare you show your face in here. H: Moe, its me, and beneith all the drinking and the jokes we have a real relationship. And that means something. M: What are you gettin at? H: C'mon man. Deep down, we kinda love each other. H: *thrown through window* M: Love you too

---

Episode: (S35E15) Cremains of the Day

Moe and Homer share a bed 2/2.

M: Oh cmon Lenny, ghosts aint real. eh

Holding each other.

---

Episode: (S35E17) The Tipping Point

Dont- Even- Get- Me- Started

M: Exact change huh? Thats it? H: Aw, i really wanna tip ya Moe, but i promised my wife id quit. M: Heres a thought Homer. What if you took the moolah outta your pocket but you just stopped before anything happened? Ya know, everything but the tip. H: That dosent seem like it could lead to anything. M: Sure it couldnt. H: *slowly hands Moe ten dollars* H: We shouldnta done that. M: Does that mean- that you wanna stop? H: No *hands Moe more money* *moaning* It feels so good *hands Moe more money* M: Dont stop you generous man *handed more money* *moaning* Aw yeah give it to me big boy H: *handing Moe more money* You like that? M: Oh thats the spot H: I can do this all night M: Right there H: Tell me you want it M: Oh god- Oh god- Oh god- Oh god! H: Yes- Yes- Yes- Yes! *Wallet sprays money on Moe* C: I need a new bar. - M: *following Homer out of the bar* Where ya goin? H: I cant stop tippin Moe. Im hooked on tha rush! I gotta monkey on my back and hes got his hand out. M: But, what about us? H: No one service worker can satisfy my needs. God help me im a tip-phomaniac.

---

Jesus ok i dont know how to conclude this post. I will make updates to this. I know im missing stuff.

This is about a 3rd of my "moe is bi" list so maybe ill make that its own masterpost.

Someone asked me today what ship dynamic they are and i told them "the dumb one/the evil one/the woman". My spouse and i have been watching Futurama and they pointed out to me it was the same dynamic when i said i saw something between Fry/Bender/Leela as a trio.

[iliiuan]

Robert Jordan's letter to Locus detailing his illness, treatment, and expected outcomes. He wanted 30 more years. He got what, 1? 2? His stubborn refusal to accept his prognosis fascinates me. It is so utterly raw, so completely human, and so thoroughly irrational.

Dear Locus,

I have been diagnosed with amyloidosis. That is a rare blood disease which affects only 8 people out of a million each year, and those 8 per million are divided among 22 distinct forms of amyloidosis. They are distinct enough that while some have no treatment at all, for the others, the treatment that works on one will have no effect whatsoever on any of the rest. An amyloid is a misshapen or misfolded protein that can be produced by various parts of the body and which may deposit in other parts of the body (nerves or organs) with varying effects. (As a small oddity, amyloids are associated with a wide list of diseases ranging from carpal tunnel syndrome to Alzheimer's. There's no current evidence of cause and effect, and none of these is considered any form of amyloidosis, but the amyloids are always there. So it is entirely possible that research on amyloids may one day lead to cures for Alzheimer's and the Lord knows what else. I've offered to be a literary poster boy for the Mayo Amyloidosis Program, and the May PR Department, at least, seems very interested. Plus, I've discovered a number of fans in various positions at the clinic, so maybe they'll help out.)

Now in my case, what I have is primary amyloidosis with cardiomyapathy. That means that some (only about 5% at present) of my bone marrow is producing amyloids which are depositing in the wall of my heart, causing it to thicken and stiffen. Untreated, it would eventually make my heart unable to function any longer and I would have a median life expectancy of one year from diagnosis. Fortunately, I am set up for treatment, which expands my median life expectancy to four years. This does NOT mean I have four years to live. For those who've forgotten their freshman or pre-freshman (high school or junior high) math, a median means half the numbers fall above that value and half fall below. It is NOT an average.

In any case, I intend to live considerably longer than that. Everybody knows or has heard of someone who was told they had five years to live, only that was twenty years ago and here they guy is, still around and kicking. I mean to beat him. I sat down and figured out how long it would take me to write all of the books I currently have in mind, without adding anything new and without trying rush anything. The figure I came up with was thirty years. Now, I'm fifty-seven, so anyone my age hoping for another thirty years is asking for a fair bit, but I don't care. That is my minimum goal. I am going to finish those books, all of them, and that is that.

My treatment starts in about 2 weeks at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, where they have seen and treated more cases like mine than anywhere else in the US. Basically, it boils down to this. They will harvest a good quantity of my bone marrow stem cells from my blood. These aren't the stem cells that have Bush and Cheney in a swivet; they can only grow into bone marrow, and only into my bone marrow at that. Then will follow two days of intense chemotherapy to kill off all of my bone marrow, since there is no way at present to target just the misbehaving 5%. Once this is done, they will re-implant my bmsc to begin rebuilding my bone marrow and immune system, which will of course go south with the bone marrow. Depending on how long it takes me to recuperate sufficiently, 6 to 8 weeks after checking in, I can come home. I will have a fifty-fifty chance of some good result (25% chance of remission; 25% chance of some reduction in amyloid production), a 35-40% chance of no result, and a 10-15% chance of fatality. Believe me, that's a Hell of a lot better than staring down the barrel of a one-year median. If I get less than full remission, my doctor already, she says, has several therapies in mind, though I suspect we will heading into experimental territory. If that is where this takes me, however, so be it. I have thirty more years worth of books to write even if I can keep from thinking of any more, and I don't intend to let this thing get in my way.

Jim Rigney/Robert Jordan

Copied from https://www.locusmag.com/2006/Features/03JordanLetter.html#:~:text=Dear%20Locus%2C,22%20distinct%20forms%20of%20amyloidosis.

[girlwiththeobsessions]

love sick c.f.

this book has also been published on wattpad. same username as the one on here. i update faster on there.

you and conrad had a secret relationship two summers ago, when you were 15 and he was 16. you broke up with him because your younger sister, belly had liked him, and you were afraid of hurting her. now, flash forward, you were 17, and you thought you had gotten over him, but maybe you haven’t

iv. deb shopping

part 1 part 2 part 3

i had no clue what was going on with conrad, why he was acting so different this summer, making me wonder what happened to the same conrad who would go on and on about infinity.

i slept in that morning, because of the fact that i stayed up way too late at that bonfire, but i eventually got up since i had work today.

when i went downstairs, dressed in a white lifeguard tank top, and red shorts, laurel, steven, and jeremiah were downstairs.

conrad was on the couch, and jere was making a 'hangover smoothie' for him, while steven was standing behind him, looking over his shoulder.

"do we really have to physically sit for our portraits?" jeremiah complained to laurel. "can't she just- look at a picture on her phone or something?"

"right?" i agreed with him.

jeremiah backed up a little from steven, having enough of him hovering over him. "okay, get out." jeremiah pointed at the door.

steven laughed. "what. why?"

"she needs to see you in the flash to capture you essence." laurel said, fixated on her laptop. "while you're still young, and full of hope."

"so poetic, mom." i joked, while steven and jeremiah laughed.

"her words." laurel rolled her eyes at us with a smile.

"well, conrad does not have hope, actually. he's hopeless." jeremiah insulted, causing me to laugh a little. "but! my hangover smoothie, it cures all."

"can you please just hurry up." conrad rushed him from the couch.

"just go back to bed. alright?" jeremiah shot back to him, and steven started looking over his shoulder again.

jeremiah put a hand on steven's chest. "alright, seriously, steven. get out. this is a delicate science."

"she hasn't painted you since you were little. i think it would be nice to have these portraits for when you're older." laurel added in.

"oh, no." steven joked. "when i'm older, they'd have like, holograms i can watch of myself, you know."

"or, this is why we have technology." i say. "where we have pictures? on our phones?"

jeremiah started the blender, causing conrad to jolt awake.

"just sit for your portraits." laurel told me and steven. "you don't see conrad complaining.

"he'll complain when he's actually conscious." i shot back at laurel.

jeremiah went to the couch and tapped conrad. "hey. here."

"come on, man. hurry your ass up, i can't be late to my first day of work." steven rushed jeremiah. "those little country club boomers are gonna tip me so hard they won't know what hit 'em!"

i made a disgusted look at steven. "ew. steven, i swear."

"come on, y/n." jeremiah laughed. "my boys gotta get that bread."

"stop." i shook my head at him.

i look over to see belly walking in the kitchen, and i give her a small smile.

"good morning." jeremiah says to her in an enthusiastic tone.

"belly, where have you been?" laurel asks her in a serious tone. "is that a bruise."

belly stands next to me and i run my fingers over the bruise. "mom, relax, she tripped when we were at the bonfire and landed on her face." i lied, i knew belly wouldn't wanna tell the actual story

"doesn't look that bad." conrad said from the couch, i look over at him, and made eye contact with him for a few seconds before returning my focus back to belly.

"uh, cereal?" jeremiah asked belly.

"yeah, hit me." belly softly responded.

"oh, my god!" susannah ran into the kitchen. "belly and y/n are going to be debutantes!" she hugged both of us.

belly laughed. "it's really not that big of a deal."

i'd forgotten all about the whole deb thing. it'd be hard trying to balance a summer job and being a deb, on top of that, i'd have to find a date.

"i'm sorry, like those two? my sisters, right there?" steven teased us.

"shut up, cretin!" i shot back.

"okay, this is going to be so much fun!" susannah fantasized. "just you wait. there's the tea, the auction, the- ball, of course.. i gotta write this down. we need to go shopping!"

"this sounds expensive." laurel said.

"oh, don't worry, laur, it's on me." susannah smiled. "it was my idea after all."

"y/n, are you sure you wanna do this?" laurel asked me. "it doesn't seem very you."

in truth, not really. but if it made susannah happy, it made me happy. i had to do it for her.

"it's not." conrad, once again, added his two cents from the couch.

i don't know how he went from how he used to act towards me to.. this.

"conrad, could you please be a little more supportive?" susannah told him. "now, which one of you are gonna be belly or y/n's escort to the ball."

"not me." conrad immediately responded.

"shocker." i say, in a sarcastic tone.

"i went last year." conrad finished his sentence.

"me neither. i swore off balls." jeremiah told us, causing steven to laugh. "the dances dude!" jeremiah said, laughing.

"wow, guys!" i say, sarcastically. "stop fighting over us."

"i'm not going with either of you." belly finally spoke up. "i am going to find my own date.

"it says debutantes require instruction, morals, and social etiquette." laurel read off her laptop.

"i'm going for a swim." conrad leaves through the back door, as i watched him go.

"yeah, y/n could use some etiquette." steven laughed.

"and you wonder why you don't have a girlfriend." i rolled my eyes.

all the sound drowned out as i watched conrad from the window, in his shorts, and no shirt on. i missed how things used to be.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. "you alright, y/n?" jeremiah asked me.

"yeah." i tried push aside anything feelings. "we should probably go soon."

"wait." susannah spoke up. "before you go, we have shopping to do!"

"seriously?" i asked. "i have work. i'm not going shopping."

but that wasn't true. susannah is a really convincing person, so before i knew it, i was shopping around stores with susannah, laurel, and belly, for the debutante thing.

i tried on different dresses, all colors, and different accessory's, hats, sunglasses, and bow, bags over my hands and arms.

then, i had to try on a debutante dress, i found a beautiful white long dress, i loved it, but maybe conrad and laurel were right. this whole thing was not my scene.

what have i done?

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END OF CHAPTER

[willinglyghoulified]

Guys, I did a thing! I WROTE! (:

"With the Brotherhood and the Institute out of the picture, the Gunners are the last biggest threat to the citizens of the Commonwealth. It's time for Gwen to make good on her promise and wipe the cutthroat mercenaries off the map for good. But she's looking beyond the big victory and planning for the long-term future. After amassing a sizeable team consisting of a two hundred citizen soldiers, a prewar doctor, an Institute scientist, a Vault-Tec sales representative, an ex-Brotherhood soldier, a die-hard Minuteman, a Synth who's handy with a wrench, and General Atomics' finest butler, Gwen's ready to take the fight to the Gunners and restore the Commonwealth to a livable state. However, Hancock's power-struggle in Goodneighbor is just beginning. After the Brotherhood's recent escapade pushing drifters into safer territory like Goodneighbor and Hancock losing his right hand, Fahrenheit, someone's keen to push Hancock out of office -- for good."

Newest chapter for my Fallout fanfic Book 3: Hope Restored can be found here on Wattpad and here on AO3. If you haven't read my other installments, I beg you to read them and give me your honest feedback. ♥ More info on each book under the cut if you're curious.

My Fallout 4 series:

Book 0: The Diaries of Anarchy - a presequel that focuses on Hancock's backstory and covers roughly 37 years of his life.

Book 1: Bombs on Monday Morning - the classic Fallout 4 origin story of my Sole Survivor (Gwenora Rose Isham) with a twist where synth-Shaun isn't a synth and isn't her son (no spoilers!)

Book 2: For the People - my SS finds inspiration in her newfound love, Hancock, and decides to kick the Brotherhood out of town and put someone new in charge of the tech-crazed army all while finding her way into motherhood again.

Book 3: Hope Restored - the Minutemen take on the Gunners to finally free the Commonwealth of the last of the Terrible Three, and my SS amasses a team of specialists to plan for a healthier and more sustainable future. Meanwhile, Hancock is having a power struggle in Goodneighbor and attempts made on his life without Fahrenheit's protection.

Book 4: Forgotten Paradise (UPCOMING) - the Nuka-World experience where my SS and family take a trip to Nuka-World on a family vacation, except Hancock is forced into being Overboss with an ex-girlfriend looming over him while my SS is locked behind bars. "Shaun" has his own adventure, too.

Book 5: How to Cure Eternity (UPCOMING) - My SS is obsessed with her own mortality after marrying a Ghoul, and since Hancock's forbid her to attempt ghoulification, she desperately searches for a cure for Ghoulism. She also finds out that sentient Ghouls are sterile after beginning her battle with baby fever. A fluff piece but still an important installment for the next book.

Book 6: Nuclear Mystery (UPCOMING) - the Far Harbor experience. Nick needs the help of his old partner and my SS agrees to help "just this once" because she recently announced she wanted to enjoy a life of retirement to keep up her health while battling Molerat Disease, skin conditions from untreated sun exposure (she's albino), and war wounds. Walking through the thick mists of Far Harbor leaves much to the imagination as you can barely see in front of your face and giant Gulpers prowling the abandoned streets. What happens there changes Gwen forever...

Book 7: Locked Inside (UPCOMING) - after leaving the Commonwealth and traveling the Wasteland, Gwen and Hancock uncover the existence of other Vaults throughout America and attempt to save anyone who may still be trapped inside. What she didn't count on was encountering all the experiments that were still going on, including "curing Ghouls" and even using them as their nuclear reactor...