#Also could do without the casual condescending

[curiousorigins]

I hate going to the doctor. So much. I wish people could go for me. But alas, they need my body there, to doctor at.

#I also need a stupid doctor who takes me at my word the first time #Because as it turns out I minimize stuff #And I hate going to the doctor enough that if I'm going they need to listen to me #Plus frankly I've never had enough money to manage going more than once for the same issue #Also could do without the casual condescending #I'm smart enough to understand what's going on #I don't need a lecture #And I don't need a soft voice #And it's weird that male doctors keep like putting me in child zone because I'm injured #Like they're crazy sympathetic about it #I'm not crying so they should chill out #Except that one E.R. doctor who didn't realize that apparently my displaced clavicle fracture hurt somehow I was 7 hours with 0 pain meds #I had adjusted because that's what the brain does #Upon reflection that dude was probably casually sexist like assuming I'd be crying or something #I wish there wasn't pressure on me to make them take me seriously #Like seriously too many prospective doctors paid TOO much attention to HOUSE

[homeslices]

Ride

A/N: Sorry this I took so long to upload school is kicking my ass and I’m sick 😭 also a sentence in here made me think of a sequel, guess which part lol. Also I’m actually sort of happy how this turned out but let me know what you guys think!

Summary: Just some more Chishiya smut. Do y’all sense a pattern of what I post? He might be a little ooc but I tried.

Pairings: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Smut

Up and down, up and down, up and down.

That’s the only thing going through your mind at the moment. That’s the only thing that can go through your mind at the moment.

Your thighs are so tired, but that coil in your stomach that has been building up is so close to snapping.

Chishiya is lying beneath you, casually holding onto your hips while watching you bounce on his cock while your cunt is tightly squeezing around it.

You’ve been at this for a while. It started with just some lighthearted teasing while you both were in Chishiya’s room at The Beach. But that lighthearted teasing led to you saying you can get off without Chishiya’s help, and now you're regretting your choice of words- and humor.

You let out a choked sob when Chishiya’s cock brushes against that spongy spot inside of you.

“I thought you said you could get off by yourself, didn't you?” Chishiya’s voice cuts through the room.

“ ‘m sorry,” you whine.

The frustration of not being able to cum made tears well up behind your eyes, which are so close to sliding down your face.

Chishiya doesn’t move, of course not. Even if you beg enough you’re not sure he’ll take mercy on you. He’s just watching you amusingly. His lips twitch led up in a small, condescending smile.

“ ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, please!” You cry out, those tears finally spilling down your flushed cheeks.

Your pace was stuttering, legs too tired to keep the rhythm, and that blissful feeling that was building up soon disappears as you ruin your own orgasm once again.

Your cunt squeezes in desperation and your upper body soon slumps down onto Chishiya’s, both of your naked chests flush together.

You’re still grinding against him, your clit brushing against his pelvis. You can hear how sticky it is down there every time you move.

A desperate whimper leaves your lips when Chishiya lifts his hips slightly, giving more pressure to your sensitive bud while simultaneously pushing his cock deeper in your soaked hole.

“Please,” you whimper out.

The ache between your legs is getting too much to handle. The only things you can think of at this point is Chishiya and having him make you cum.

“Please what?”

The shift of his lower body makes you whine once again. He’s messing with you, you know that, but at this point you don’t care.

“Please make me cum,” you sob, tears still streaming down your face.

Your face was in the crook of his neck so you couldn’t see him, but you could feel the amused snicker vibrate his body.

“Backing out of a challenge so soon?”

All you can do is nod frantically hoping he’ll grant you some mercy. You feel him hum thoughtfully only to feel him tap your sides.

“Up, I’ll help you, but you have to stay in the position you were before.”

Knowing that that’s as far as Chishiya was willing to compromise, you use all your strength to sit back up.

Breathing heavily, you brace your hands on Chishiya’s chest. His eyes remain focused on your face, almost as if he’s entertained by your struggle. Knowing him, he probably is.

Gripping your hips Chishiya steadies you, only to thrust up into your cunt, his cock brushing against your g-spot precisely.

Letting out a broken moan, you lean most of your weight on your hands, only to have Chishiya thrust up again and again and having him hit your g-spot over and over.

Your eyes are unfocused, but you can make you the smug grin covering Chishiya’s face with every thrust. He doesn’t break his pace once, and the only thing coming out of your mouth now is whimpers.

That pool of arousal soon starts building up once again, and god you can’t take it any longer. You can feel every thrust of Chishiya’s cock dragging against your sopping wet walls.

Chishiya could see a white ring forming around the base of his cock, and knowing you're close again, starts to slow down, making you wait for your release even longer.

You let out another sob of frustration, only to hear Chishiya quiet chuckling.

“You didn’t think It’d be that easy did you?”

You knew he wouldn’t just give into you. You knew, yet you still thought that he might’ve given you a little leniency. Apparently not though. He’s stopped his movements and settled for controlling your hips in a slow grind, making sure your clit rubs against his pelvis every time.

“I said I would help, not do all the work.” There was a slight pause before Chishiya continued. “Unless you don’t want to cum?”

That last sentence cut through your foggy mind. You knew he wasn’t playing around. If he wanted to, he could deny you cumming at all. He has before, and he sure as hell would do it again.

So, you slowly begin to bounce on Chishiya’s cock once again. Of course, he follows through with his promise to you, gripping your hips and helping you go up and down like you were previously.

That coil in your stomach was beginning to tighten fastly, the four previous ruined orgasms making you so much more sensitive.

You’re right at the edge, so close you could practically see the bliss that was sure to take over you.

Chishiya’s hand slides up your soaked thigh covered in both of your juices, to your cunt, that is continuously riding his cock. His thumb brushes over your clit once, twice, only the third time he starts rubbing tight circles against it.

Your head falls back, jaw open, as you let out a silently moan. And when Chishiya’s cock hits your g-spot once again, that coil finally snaps.

A shutter racks your body as goosebumps cover your skin. You see white as you cum all over Chishiya’s cock, creaming around it. A euphoric sense passes through you and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this good.

Your body slumps safely onto Chishiya, who was currently helping you ride out your orgasm by continually rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Coming down finally from you high, you start to whine at the overstimulation, only to be flipped around on your back with Chishiya hovering above you, thrusting shallowly into your sensitive heat.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?”

The feeling of his lips kissing and sucking their way up your neck had you leaning your head back, giving him more access.

Only then does he brush them against your ear and whisper.

“I didn’t even cum yet.”

#chishiya smut #aib chishiya #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland smut #chishiya x reader smut #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya x you #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya fanfic #chishiya fic #aib x reader #aib smut #aib imagines #aib x you #aib

[hina-hina]

need you to tell me every characters amount of rizz

Hello friend!! This request was too funny not to do, but for my own sanity I'm only going to do the 141, if you guys like this however I could make a part 2. Thank you for requesting!!! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

|| Task Force 141 and How Much Rizz They Have ||

Warnings: cursing

|| Ghost

Unintentional Rizz

It's little things that he does without realizing that makes people fall the most for him

He is very startled by this because he doesn't see himself as someone people should find attractive

He is even shocked when he learns people find the mask attractive

However, when he actually tries to hit on someone, I'd say it's a 50/50 toss up

On one hand, he has a very deep, attractive voice that would no doubt make many people swoon and a teasing nature (I mean, we all heard how he was talking to Soap during the "Alone" mission)

On the other hand, hes work has always came first so I don't think he'd really know what to say to someone he found attractive

If he tries to flirt, help the conversation along and he will eventually get his footing

|| Soap

Thinks he has rizz

This man can come on a bit strong

Is a big oblivious so he may overdo it without realizing

Does not know how to deal when someone comes onto him

The pure confidence is hot enough to let me say he has some rizz

Is also definitely a tease too

Big on pet names

Knows he's attractive and uses it to his advantage

Very confident

|| Gaz

100% has rizz

Maybe I'm biased bc I'm a Gaz girl at heart but just look at him

Definitely more of a soft, kind flirty type

Would be the type to complement and politely ask for your number

Would get flustered if you started aggressively flirting back

Knows how to play it off in an endearing way

Would be the type to ask you to dance as a way of flirting

Or pay for your drink at a shop

He is SO-

|| Captain Price

"What the hell is "rizz""

Another case of doing things unintentionally attractive

Very gentlemanly

Is older and has a lot more experience but also has been in the military since he was, what, 16?

Old fashioned flirting techniques

Would like when you flirt back

Very cheeky but more mature than the other boys

Would drop pet names casually (Whenever I imagine him saying love, I swoon)

His flirting can seem condescending but if you know how to back-talk him, your in business

#cod mw2 imagine #cod mw2 ghost #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 headcannons #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw22 #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #gaz headcanons #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain price #john price x reader #john price #task force 141 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty #cod imagine #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #cod mwii

[hiramaris]

Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 2

Chapter Summary:

And what does Haley do when things don't go her way? She sabotages. So it wasn't a surprise when Haley's mouth opened and the next words that came out were ones she never intended to say. It was a defense mechanism, a way to push people away before they could hurt her. "If it weren't for those horrendous clothes, you might actually be pretty," she blurted out, regretting it as soon as the words left her lips.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: None so far? Just Haley being her usual self

Notes:

Okay, so originally in my AO3 this is meant to be a Haley x OC and I have already created a solid description for my character. However, I thought it would be much better if I changed it to a reader-insert instead tho I'll probably keep some physical descriptions that I had already inserted, so sorry about that. Also, if some of y'all have already read this in my AO3, expect some minor changes.

Gif from loriedarlin.tumblr.com

Spring 1

Haley rises with the grace of a blooming sunflower that she is. It's finally Spring!

No longer will she suffer from the icy chill that makes her toes feel like they're about to fall off, none of that ridiculously nasty snow that forces her to use that Yoba awful boots she had hidden at the deepest part of her wardrobe, and just as equally terrible gloves that hinder her from using her camera let alone her phone when she finally got that once in a blue moon occurrence of perfect lighting outside.

And most importantly; no more dry, frizzy hair.

AND.

She could finally continue her tan!

Oh, the endless possibilities that await her in this new season. So much to explore and experience. Haley is positively bursting with excitement, eager to dive into all the joys, and wonders what something new Spring has planned for her.

****

When Haley expected something new, She didn't mean new 'new' like a new person but new as in something exciting like a freshly arrived parcel from the shop she ordered online, or perhaps a new conditioner that makes her hair bounce and makes it shinier that Yoba could mistake it as the sun. 

Her expectations were already at rock bottom with Pelican Town being the dullest place on earth.

But why oh why did she even bother to expect?

"The new farmer's coming today, just so you know," Emily casually mentions as she washed their dishes that morning.

Haley scrunched up her face. She had already forgotten about it. Why bring it up again?

"Oh, goody. Another reason to avoid the Townsquare today."

Emily turned to her with her typical condescending look she learned to hate. "Hay, you don't have to become BFFs with her right off the bat. Just say hello and try not to be your usual mean self. You'll thank me later."

"And I don't have to introduce myself within the day, Em." Haley crossed her arms, standing her ground. "This is no classroom where you need to acquaint the new kid on her first day." 

"I know." She sighed as if she was having a conversation of repetition with a toddler and she's running out of patience. "Just be nice to her, yeah?"

Haley didn't answer. With camera tucked carefully between her hands, she left the kitchen without a word. Emily never fails to make her feel like a child being taken care of by her. Like she's in dire need of a babysitter and without her guidance, Haley would be nothing.

It's infuriating really. 

No. 

She wouldn't let this ruin her day.

Today was going to be a good day. Emily's incessant nagging couldn't change that. Besides, she probably wouldn't even meet the new farmer. It was already past 10, and the girl was most likely already mingling with the locals or resting in that old cottage of hers.

She can still take pictures back in Marnie's ranch. then she can hang out with Alex in his place. Go back home exactly during Emily's shift on the Saloon and then she'll have the whole house to herself while she can finally cook something edible without Emily breathing down her neck.

Yes, that would be ideal. Today is a good day.

****

Wrong.

Just as Haley stepped foot outside 2 Willow Lane, she was greeted by a tall, unfamiliar woman strolling by her house at an infuriatingly slow pace.

You held a whole map of what she assumed was the town's which was big enough to hide your whole face, and as well as hinder your vision to notice Haley on the side, much to her relief.

Are you the new girl?

All that she can tell is that you have the darkest hair she has ever seen in her whole life. It was shiny, and ridiculously long, too which kinda compliments its wavy nature. 

Also, why the hell are you in a dress shirt and a tie?

Haley may be a bit far behind the books but she's sure as hell that isn't the right attire for someone who'll work on a farm.

If Haley didn't know Lewis is the mayor, she'd probably think you're the new mayor with your totally immaculate wardrobe— a dress shirt and a tie, perfectly flattened slacks, and a pair of leather shoes that probably look expensive.

Shit. Are you really the farmer? Or just a visitor?

Oh, no. Are you turning around? Oh, Yoba, she is!

Haley scrambled to her feet. Not sure if she should bolt inside the house, run to the Townsquare, or what. 

With her probably last brain cell that saves her from the utter embarrassment of being caught checking out the new farmer (absolutely not, the disgrace), her own body moves on its own. She grabbed her camera and positioned herself like she was taking a photo of the least appealing subject she had ever captured in her life— Emily's cactus.

Please not now, Yoba. Not now.

She found herself praying to the deities she no longer talked to when she felt your eyes burning into her back. She had probably taken a load of mediocre photos of Emily's plant when she finally felt the farmer leaves.  

She breathed a sigh of relief when she turned around and found the street empty apart from her. Only then did she notice how fast her heart was beating against her chest.

Thank Yoba for saving me from that mortifying introduction.

Why is she even nervous anyway? She didn't even see me. Even so, that was so embarrassing.

Wait, no.

Embarrassed, not nervous.

Only embarrassed, nothing else.

The word nervous and Haley doesn't fit. In fact, it should never ever be used in a single sentence. Haley doesn't get nervous, ever.

She was just caught off guard, that's all. 

Next time, she'd prepare an introduction so fantastic that you would be left with the impression that Haley is too good for you— kind and never mean, but still way out of your league.

Just you wait, stranger. She thought determinedly, trying to ignore the voice at the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Emily, asking her if she was really sure it was going to be a good day.

Haley doesn't really know.

****

"Did you meet Y/n?" was Emily's first words when she arrived home from her shift.

Haley remained sprawled on the couch, flipping through the pages of her fashion magazine for this season. The struggle was real, trying to choose between the blue skirt or the pink shorts.

"Who?" she asked, her eyes still glued to the glossy pages.

"The farmer, Hay." She can feel Emily rolling her eyes at her.

"Oh," Haley feigns interest, barely lifting her gaze. "That not-so-tall, dark-haired farmer with a fashion taste of an old woman ready to retire from her corporate job?"

Emily gasped, and Haley turned to look just in time to see her scandalized look. To be fair, you don't look that bad. You also tower over Haley for a couple of inches and your fashion sense isn't the worst that she has seen in her life. Haley wouldn't be caught alive admitting that aloud though, especially not in front of Emily.

Lies are an easier language to learn after all.

"Don't tell me you just insulted her on her first day?"

"Of course not." Haley protested, magazine long forgotten. "I saw her but I didn't even talk to her nor she even tried. The doofus was so busy with her stupid map to even see me."

Looking back at the scene made her feel embarrassed, relieved, and offended at the same time.

Like how could you not notice a true beauty in front of you? Her face alone was enough to catch the attention of all the people in the area. She's not crowned flower queen for nothing yet you just walked passed her like she's just an average woman!

How dare she?

But on the side, it would have been embarrassing otherwise for Haley to be caught alive staring at the newcomer with wonder in her eyes.

Would anyone really blame her though? It was perfectly natural to size up the competition in terms of beauty.

Right?

Right?

And it's not like she noticed how broad your shoulder was or how your lean physique perfectly suited your chosen profession. Not at all, pft.

"Still, you could have said hello," Emily tries to reason with her, oblivious to the internal conflict turning on the gears of Haley's brain. 

"Why should I? I'm not the new girl, aren't I?" She shrugged indifferently, turning back to her mag once again. "And what kind of lame name is Y/n, anyway?"

"Haley." There's that tone again.

"What?" she snapped.

"Don't even start. Y/n is actually nice." Emily chided softly, her eyes boring into Haley's like a disappointed mother. "You said it yourself, this isn't high school anymore. Being mean doesn't get you anywhere."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Haley bristled at the insinuation, standing up to face Emily with a fierce expression. "Are you saying I'm directionless just because you have a job, and I don't?"

"I'm saying that being kind is always the right choice," Emily's calmness only fueled the anger she felt. "And trust me, it doesn't cost you anything to be nice to someone. But being mean can cost you more than you think."

Haley remained tight-lipped, not wanting to argue with her sister anymore. Emily seemed to mistake her silence for compliance.

"I'm just trying to look out for you, okay? Sorry if I came on too strong," Emily consoled her, giving her a pat on the head. "I'm off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Goodnight, sis."

As Emily headed off to bed, Haley was left to ponder the events of the day—

No fantastic photos in Marnie's ranch because the nasty smell of animal waste was enough to drive her back to her entry steps, and the risk of running across the new farmer is greater there so, no.

As for Alex, forget it, she didn't have the stomach to endure his stench after playing with his ball all day. Her only option was to head back home.

Emily left early which is a good thing but when Haley went to the kitchen to finally practice her baking skills, she only found out that they had no more eggs. She could have run to Pierre's to get some but she isn't really keen on doing the shopping herself. That's Emily's forte, not hers.

And now, she's been lectured by her sister like she's some rebelled teen.

What a good way to start the year, huh?

Yeah, today is not a good day. 

****

Spring 2

Haley was out with her camera in Cindersap Forest just by the river. Unlike yesterday, it seems Marnie was just as bothered by the smell of her animals and decided to deep clean her ranch or whatever. So, the air was fresh and crisp, allowing Haley to breathe deeply without cringing.

The weather was ideal for taking photos— partly cloudy with a gentle breeze that carried delicate flecks of pollen through the air.

Despite her aversion to dirt and anything that possibly has germs in it, Haley loved taking pictures of nature. Behind the camera lens, she felt a profound connection to the world around her. She was in her element, lost in her own world, and nothing else mattered. Once she found the perfect subject, she was determined to capture it, no matter how dirty or injured she might become.

At this time of the year, the river looked especially magnificent in the soft light, and the falling pollen added a magical touch to the already enchanting scenery.

Just as Haley was about to snap the perfect shot, she heard a little squeak that was impossible to ignore. She turned her head to locate the source and was delighted to discover a...

Squirrel!

The little creature was the cutest thing she had ever seen, second only to the bunnies she had spotted at Marnie's ranch last year.

Haley raised her camera, ready to capture the moment forever. As if sensing her intent, the little guy let out another adorable squeak before darting off toward the deeper part of the forest where the weird old guy with the tower lived. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was worth it to follow the squirrel, but her impulsive nature won out in the end.

With ragged breath and hair slightly disheveled, Haley finally caught up to the squirrel. And then, as if time had stopped, she stumbled upon a sight that took her breath away.

There you are, the farmer— Y/n, she reminded herself, with your back hunched over as you fed the little guy a handful of wild walnuts that you had foraged from the forest.

No longer did you look like the poised and polished woman in your dress shirt, tie, and slicked-back hair. Instead, you wore a well-worn jumper over a faded farmer's shirt, with your hair loosely tied up in a haphazard ponytail. 

You looked... different.

It was as if you belonged in this community far more than Haley ever could.

Maybe it's the clothes, or maybe it's the way the little squirrel was so comfortable in your presence.

Before she knew it, Haley's body moved on its own, and she instinctively raised her camera to capture the moment. It was a picture-perfect moment that spoke to her soul, one that was raw, genuine, and brimming with vulnerability.

For years she hadn't seen something as picturesque and just raw and so vulnerable as this.

Suddenly, you whirled on your spot with wide eyes.

Wide, so gray, very surprised gray eyes, and your just as dark eyebrows rose so high it disappeared behind a thin curtain of bangs. The little squirrel darted behind a bush in fright, startled by the sudden flash of Haley's camera.

It felt like ages before Haley's fried brain decided that maybe it was time to finally move and stop making a fool out of herself for the second time around. You are just as frozen, your hands still holding three walnuts suspended in midair.

"Uhm," you started, voice soft and hesitant. Finally standing from your place, Haley could just stare at how tall you are in this proximity. You let out a small smile. "You're the girl with the camera yesterday, right?"

Haley could only nod. The words dying on her tongue. Her brain is still short-circuiting in all ways possible. 

"Oh..." Haley breathes out, her heart racing as she takes in the sight before her. "You're that new farmer girl or whatever, aren't you?"

Just how the hell did the gray get so green though? She wonders as your eyes bore into her with piqued curiosity. Was it the lighting and the green scenery that did it?

Good Yoba.

Is it possible for someone to be blessed with a nose this fine, so shapely up close? And don't even get her started on how a farmer could have such luscious, shiny hair when Haley has to spend hours just to get that shine and bounce that she likes.

What kind of mouth is that even? It's so small yet so plump. It doesn't look chapped though. You don't seem to be a lip gloss type, so you must be using chapstick regularly. That's good.

And wait, were you talking?

"Huh?" she mutters to herself, catching herself from zoning out once again. "Oh... I'm Haley." She manages to respond in what little she had caught up from your ramblings. 

She only understands the word grandpa, Zuzu City, Y/n, and new. 

You smiled and that's all that it took for the accumulating embarrassment to flush on Haley. It was too bright, too happy, too much and Haley couldn't handle all that.

For the first time, she's at loss for words, flustered, and was that her being nervous? 

In a desperate attempt to regain control, Haley shook her head vigorously, hoping to shake off the ridiculous embarrassment that was consuming her.

And what does Haley do when things don't go her way?

She sabotages.

So, it wasn't a surprise when Haley's mouth opened and the next words that came out were ones she never intended to say. It was a defense mechanism, a way to push people away before they could hurt her.

"If it weren't for those horrendous clothes, you might actually be pretty," she blurted out, regretting it as soon as the words left her lips.

Your smile evaporated in a split second and Haley almost missed it immediately.

Almost.

"Excuse me?" You looked offended, and Haley could easily admit that she didn't like your eyes when they were darkened like this. 

"Actually, never mind." She replied, steady and fast. Hoping the farmer didn't really hear her stupid comment. 

Just what the hell is wrong with me anyway?

You pursed your lips and went silent for a second or two as you turned and rummaged on your rucksack which Haley hadn't noticed before. "Here," you held out a freshly picked daffodil, and Haley almost swooned. Almost.

Her lips parted in a soft gasp. "For me?"

"Hmm. It kinda looks like you." 

Haley's lips curved into a small smile. "Thank you."

You hummed in acknowledgment, but you didn't return the smile. Had Haley gone too far with that comment earlier?

Haley rarely feels guilty. She always tells herself that she doesn't have anything to apologize for. Her parents didn't, so why should she?

But right now, that dreadful feeling came resurfacing. It's suffocating. 

The silence is suffocating.

"It's my grandpa's." After what seemed like forever, you turned to her with a small, almost nostalgic smile. You must have noticed Haley's questioning look. "These clothes are his," you clarified. "I moved here with nothing but myself after I decided spontaneously that I can't live a life as I had in Zuzu's." You gave out a low chuckle.

Oh.

That's why you looked like that yesterday. It makes sense now. The guilt now creeps on her like a palpable living force. Emily's words came echoing at the back of her mind.

Being mean can cost you more than you think.

The apology is at the tip of her tongue yet a small part of her, the mean one, kept telling her it was just a harmless comment and that she meant nothing of it. How could she know it was your grandpa's? Or that you suffered back in your old city and you're finding a fresh start here?

Because you didn't even give her a chance to know her before you judged her. This Emily conscience of hers is really starting to scare her. But she's right, she did judge you immediately. 

"I—"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so grim." There's that smile again. "Uhm, sorry to cut this short but" you stared at your watch. "I still have to tidy the farm up; you know it's not exactly the cleanest place right now. I just took a break to feed the little guy. I'll catch you later, Haley."

Haley didn't even have the chance to say goodbye.

Or even apologize.

She sighed as she watched you retreat back to your farm.

****

"How do you say sorry?" Haley asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. She never saw Emily abandon her sewing machine that fast. In record time, she sat beside Haley who chews her bottom lip, clearly troubled. She barely even touched her fruit salad and that's something.

"What did you do?" was her only question yet Haley found herself telling her sister everything. 

Yep, today isn't a good day, too.

~~~~

Previous

Next

A/n: had to delete the other one due to some minor changes again.

#stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew haley #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew fanfic

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, sorry i know i recently sent an ask about a specific fic but i was also wondering if you had any Radio Omens fics? Preferably not crossovers with other adaptations but if those are the only ones you can find thats fine of course. Thank you!

Hi! We have a few fics on our #radio omens tag. Here are some more to add to the collection...

A stalemate on the subject of beds by doomed_spectacles (E)

“Oh, so that’s how we’re doing this tonight?” Aziraphale said, then started to glow. His aura was just like him, bright and condescending in a way Crowley couldn’t easily explain or look away from.

I need you! (I always have.) by CatofApocalypse & doomed_spectacles (E)

The angel had the nerve to say, "If I'm in charge, Crowley, I can make a difference." -- The final fifteen minutes of Good Omens Season Two, but with the Radio Omens husbands instead. Things go quite a bit differently.

All Tied Up with String by RiYuYami (T)

The quiet calm of hearing nothing from Heaven and Hell was a clear sign that they were going to contact them eventually, and Aziraphale and Crowley knew they only had one chance to make sure that they get out of it without facing the worst of the worst. Maybe a little help from a witch and the Antichrist can get them out of this impending punishment.

Know You Anywhere by anticyclone (E)

Crawly gave Aziraphale a look. "You're lucky that I recognized you. Do you know what demons are supposed to do when they encounter an angel in the field?" "Do enlighten me," Aziraphale said, smiling and briefly letting his eyes rest on Crawly's mouth. Immortality applies to the soul, not the body. At least when it comes to angels and demons: Crowley and Aziraphale go through their fair share of corporations throughout the years. It's slightly different every time.

Just a Work Engagement by KannaOphelia (E)

"I said I'd bring you," he said casually. There was a long silence. Aziraphale's expression didn't change so much as gently calcify. Then, very quietly, he said, "Could you repeat that, please?" "Come on, Aziraphale. I've spent years talking you up in my reports, cleverest and most subtle of angels, be an asset to us all if you defected, and in the meantime feeding me valuable information. And then all the Armageddon business... Well, they took notice. They want to meet you." "Piffle. I couldn't possibly attend a function in Hell."

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #radio omens #adult omens #mod d

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Preview

One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blonde and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. -------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

UPDATE: Full chapter posted!

One might assume that growing up surrounded by wealth and luxury makes someone the luckiest person alive. Having seen the struggles and sacrifices of the poor in society, you could confirm that this assumption was not entirely false. Since Gold Roger's announcement about the One Piece, a legendary treasure that no one had found for 22 years, piracy had become rampant. You lived in an era where gold and status held more importance than anything else, even family itself.

You witnessed an increase in deceptions and subterfuge, whether it was on the open sea or within your own household. Your father was a successful entrepreneur with a modest number of valuable connections, both in the private sector and among Marine colonels and various associates. It was extremely important for you to follow his protocol and ensure that everything was accomplished in a way that upheld your family's reputation.

Unfortunately, this also meant agreeing to a forced engagement with one of the admirals' son, regardless of what your heart desired.

It could have been so simple, really. A firm and confident "no" was to be expected from you, as you never wanted to marry for benefits, but only for love. And yet, throughout your entire life, you struggled to find the courage to go against what everyone wanted you to do. As a natural people-pleaser who didn't like disappointing those around, you grew up surrounded by cruelty, opportunism, and a severe lack of affection.

You were trained to be nice and condescending, having to wear a fake smile at all times, and when necessary, even put your cleavage on display with the nicest dresses in your wardrobe. Or, to describe it more accurately, your mother's wardrobe.

Your parents barred you from selecting the garments that you would be most comfortable in. You harbored a preference for a more casual look, which consisted of shirts and fitting pants, leather jackets, and boots. Nevertheless, in accordance with their view, such clothes did not suit a lady of your importance. Consequently, you had to store your own funds separately, and keep the non-compliant outfits inside a concealed wooden box.

Occasionally, you were able to experience a sliver of freedom with your best and only friends from your hometown, conjuring up plausible alibi while avoiding arousing any suspicions. They were the only ones who addressed you with kind and considerate words, openly expressing their views that opposed your constant acceptance without putting up a fight.

You knew they were perfectly correct in their statements, yet you were unable to ascertain the missing drive and find that spark within you; the strength you had tried to put into good use whenever your parents confined you to your room for several days, with the bare minimum food intake as a method of teaching you a lesson concerning the specific expectations that they wanted from the good and well-mannered girl whom they attempted to nurture.

You had no voice left in your throat to scream, alongside possessing a minimal amount of stamina to retaliate and advocate for yourself amid the continued degradation that you had to face on a consistent basis.

You thoroughly despised your cowardice. You dreamed of an existence where you could stand up for yourself, fighting for what you wanted with full determination and fervor. And yet, that day still felt so far away, as you were constrained to attend one business dinner after another, whether with your parents present or by yourself.

They wanted a doll, so you acted like one.

You didn't know yet, but everything was about to change significantly and unexpectedly on that fateful night.

There was a particular location known as the Baratie Restaurant Ship that served the most high-class and succulent dishes in the entirety of the East Blue. Your parents expressed considerable enthusiasm towards dining at this establishment and subsequently extended an invitation to your father's closest admiral associate, along with your presumed fiancé. As a result, you were summoned to attend the gathering without any possibility of evasion.

Your friends advised you to feign illness and make a covert escape from your home as soon as the ship set sail, but you were exceedingly familiar with your parents' modus operandi better than anyone else. You discerned that they would have surely transported you with them even if you were physically disabled, so you chose your mother's favorite dress for the occasion, applied your makeup, and selected the kind of uncomfortable shoes that you disliked wearing while standing due to their tight fit and high heels.

As soon as you arrived at the docks, the aroma of cooked meat, grilled fish, and baked potatoes filled the air. Upon entering the restaurant, a soothing melody immediately greeted your ears. While your parents spoke with the fishman at the entrance about their reservation, you took in the upscale setting. Admiring the ambiance, you appreciated the cozy atmosphere with dim lights lending a romantic vibe that made it the perfect spot for a genuine couple.

Christopher, your supposed fiancé, touched your back in an unpleasant manner as he analyzed every patron in the establishment with a visible expression of disdain.

"I'm sure some of these people are filthy pirates," he sneered. "I hope the food is as good as they say.”

With a forced smile on your face, you nonchalantly stepped away from his hold. "You can't exactly choose the customers, Chris," you said pointedly, hoping to discourage any further negativity.

The man seemed unfazed by your rejection and proceeded to walk down the stairs. Your parents followed suit, escorted to your designated location for the evening with the admiral following in tow. His usual grin was plastered on his face, and he strode past you as you stood frozen, not saying a word.

You took deep breaths in an attempt to calm your frazzled emotions, but your heart continued to hammer in your chest with a loud, pounding rhythm.

"Come on, Y/N, you can do it. Just a couple of hours, you'll survive this," you whispered to yourself, trying to muster up some courage and push through the discomfort.

You swallowed the lump that had surfaced in your throat and then joined the group near the center area of the restaurant, waiting for the others to take their seat on the long couch made of high quality leather.

Despite Sanji's best efforts, Zeff once again belittled and ignored one of his delicious meals, causing him to be relegated to the lowly role of a waiter. As he hurriedly wiped down a table, clearing it of the empty plates and keeping the growing pile on his left hand, Sanji's gaze casually shifted to the group of people that had just arrived at the Baratie. He abruptly turned around for a moment when he caught a glimpse of you, utterly entranced by your beauty and the elegant movement of tucking a hair strand behind your ear as you took in your surroundings.

Sanji found himself staring at you longer than he intended to, his lips curving into a wide smile the moment you settled onto the couch and subtly adjusted the fabric of your dress to conceal your thighs. Amidst the vibrant conversation that occupied the others, you remained quiet and reserved, lightly tugging at the corner of your lips as you tried to blend in.

Even though they all engaged in lively chatter, you showed no special interest in the topic of discussion, drifting away and briefly meeting Sanji's eyes in a quick glance of contact.

To Sanji's displeasure, the man sitting near you attempted to capture your attention by holding the menu in front of you. You redirected your focus to carefully inspect the list, and Sanji was left standing there, one hand tucked in his pocket, watching as your lips pressed together in concentration.

Amongst the multitude of female patrons present that night, you stood out as the most mesmerizing for reasons that he struggled to put into words. Sanji hastily gathered the remaining clutter, taking it to the kitchen before fixing his jacket and tidying up his hair to make it look as neat as possible.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back into the dining hall, walking towards your table with long and confident strides.

#one piece #one plece liveaction #opla sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla x reader #story preview #sneak peek

[chaifootsteps]

can't remember where I saw it but someone pointed out that even without the context of Blitzo getting shot at pretty much everything Stolas says on the phone in S1E1 is manipulative

when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy? -> doesn't ask why it's a bad time, doesn't care

immediately brings topic to the grimoire, underscores how important it is and how he's allowed Blitz to use it to do his job -> implies Blitz is in his debt, mentions how his entire business hinges on it, total condescending tone

mentions Blitz's access to the mortal realm is illegal, mentions he needs the book back to do his duties -> turns up the pressure around how his allowing Blitz to use the book compromises him personally even though he could have just forbidden Blitz to use the book to begin with if he needs it on the day to day; has already created a situation where Blitz is trapped because of Stolas' own bad choice to keep lending him the book (also the totally casual 'anyhoo' right after a gunshot fired)

favors for favors -> doesn't spell out what he wants plainly, despite Blitz again insisting that he doesn't have time to talk, even acts like it's a seductive offer by asking if it sounds enticing

then let me keep it simple -> finally explains what he wants is monthly sex right after another gunshot goes off, and even then buries the 'passionate fornication' bit at the end of the sentence, still wasting Blitz's time when he's had to have heard at least two gunshots over the phone at this point (plus absolutely no sign of concern for Blitz in either expression or dialogue. Just, stone cold. The whole time)

you get to keep [the grimoire] all the rest of the time -> frames the deal like Blitz is getting more of the benefits out of it than he is when it seems more like he doesn't need the book outside of the occasional ceremony or is so lazy he's fine neglecting his duties & his own priceless spellbook that his own daughter does not even know how to use and cannot adequately defend herself with magic (at least Insta Stolas gave her at least one magic lesson, though I vaguely recall that was at the point in the show's 'hiatus' between ep7 and s2 where Blitz and Stolas had momentarily paused the full moon deal, so even that was the result of his not having Blitz available to bone him for a couple of months)

and then to top it all off he goes into an X-rated rant as soon as he gets what he wants, totally misses Blitz no longer responding and Martha's voice over the phone to the extent that he's still going when Moxxie runs past the phone several minutes later

This was an excellent breakdown, Anon. An excellent point-by-point of why, if Vivzie wants this ship to be healthy or soft, nothing shy of reconning that first episode will do. There's just no defending this or making it right.

I can't express enough how much Murder Family Stolas gives me the genuine fucking chills. He's a shark circling around in the water, an absolute monster.

#anonymous #stolitz critical #helluva boss #actual blog post

[star-quill]

quills into thigh riding yeah … and he’s also mostly dominant yeah … so how do u think he feels abt like riding riding. i’m talking cowgirl and reverse cowgirl.

do you think he could ever submit in a situation like this hmmm 🤔

oh he loves it.

will be mostly dominate in a possessive way. like his hand on ur waist, rocking u back and forth against him. or if ur facing away from him, his hand will be on ur ass, squeezing and kneading at ur skin. occasionally he'll give it a swat, his palm starting to leave a red handprint on ur skin.

sometimes when he's had a really long day, he will just lay there and bask in the feeling of u on top of him, not completely submissive but just letting u do the work mostly. his eyes are closed and ur hands are on his chest, grinding hard against him. he doesn't say much but u do, praising him to try and get him to come faster ("can u feel how much ur filling me up?" "i feel so full.." "ur so big, stretching me out real good..").

his hand will lazily run up ur thigh, squeezing it gently before he slips it between ur legs, fingers playing with ur clit as u ride him. ur trembling, legs starting to shake but u can't let him get the upper hand when he's just laying there, one hand tucked behind his head. he was letting u do all the work and now he's switched it around, being casually dominate again and it made u whine.

there are also times when the sex doesn't even start as sex. ur watching tv and ur itching for him, getting a little desperate on the sofa beside him. he glances over at u and sees ur legs rubbing together.

"c'mere.."

u don't hesitate to sit on his lap, cuddling into him. he shoves his pyjama shorts down to his knees then pulls ur shorts down, before slipping ur underwear to the side. then he lifts u up and sinks u down onto him. u gasp out when he fills u to the hilt but doesn't move. just lets u sit there, full with him inside u as u cuddle into him. when u even slightly move ur hips, he swats at ur ass, letting u know not to move at all. he starts being a little condescending but it only makes u whine into his neck ("u can't help urself, can u, baby?" "always want to be filled up, don't u, hmm?" "such a pretty lil' thing.. need to be stuffed up with my cock to feel good?").

then u start to beg. it's pathetic. ur voice trembling as u ask him to let u bounce on his dick, to even just move at all to feel something more. then he puts his hands along the back of the sofa, and tells u to go ahead. u slowly start to bounce on him, but the overwhelming feeling of just sitting on him without moving, was starting to slow u down.

"c'mon baby.. u can do better than that.."

there were tears in ur eyes every time u made skin to skin contact with his thighs, grinding down on him and feeling just how big he was and how deep he was going inside u. his hands had came to rest on ur waist, gripping slightly as he started to bounce u himself, talking u through it ("s'all a bit much, isn't it, baby?" "u were doing so good baby.. takin' me all the way.." "u just lay against me, honey.. i've got u..").

and u do, u slump against him as he pushes u down onto him, holding u there while u shake and come around his dick, hearing him shh and coo at u to get u through it. but he doesn't stop there, he coaxes another two out of u u til ur absolutely spent, shaking against him. he quickly pulls out before he comes, letting it drip against his stomach as he stands up and kicks his shorts off. he walks u to bed, letting u lay down on the mattress while he goes off to get a cold towel. he pats u down, and u slowly blink up at him.

"there u are, baby.. u doing good?"

"mmhm.. thank u.."

he washes himself off and gets in beside u, kissing ur shoulder.

"ur welcome, baby.."

"am i ever too much?"

"never.. can't get enough of u, baby.."

#mfmfmmf he!!!!!!! #he's so soft dom coded i'm going to tear up and cry #peter quill #peter quill headcanons #peter quill drabble #peter quill smut #peter quill x reader #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #✎ peter quill #answered #murderdocs

[astersofthesky]

I have been so used to hearing L's dub voice in my head (whenever i read fics) and also whenever I watch clips that it genuinely shocked me when i heard the "I am L" scene in japanese and how different they sounded alongside the implications in the attitude of their characters.

L's sub voice holds a natural polite tone normal for the japanese whilst maintaining an air of professionalism and authority. His tone does not sound "condescending" too when he told the task force about how they would've died if he was kira. It was respectful although you can hear the slight disappointment in his voice, as if he's trying not to let it shown out of tact.

Additionally, the way jpn sub! L spoke the "Let's show Kira that we're willing to risk our lives, because justice will prevail." scene sounds encouraging to say the least. He was clearly driven by personal reasons ("But I will win in the end.") but even so, he was speaking in a "we" sense, like he was giving the task force some acknowledgement for their efforts and then pushing them to do better in the investigation.

The dubbed version of this scene, on the other hand, gives a feeling that L like meeting and working with the task force is more of a "chore" rather than of extra help. The perpetually tired tone of dub!L made the "Please don't give out your names so casually." scene translate to "Gosh, they're so stupid." It's both mockery and a warning. Atleast, that's how I interpreted it.

He lets his authority known by the task force without coating it. For example, the "I want to show kira that we're all risking our lives if that's what it takes, because justice will prevail no matter what" scene is very authoritative. Note on the emphasis on "I WANT," like L's telling the team "Yes, we will but under MY orders."

Now this isn't a hate on the death note dub version. I loved the dubbed voice for L and i do believe it also fits him. You could say I was just surprised at how a slight change of tone and delivery could change a scene so much.

#death note #l lawliet #l #death note anime #i wonder if this is also because of cultural differences #with japan being more naturally polite that is

[jamiesfootball]

Let’s talk about male bonding rituals and the way that physical touch in the locker room can be a comforting outlet. Like how the team hugs and jumps on each other after they score a goal. Or how they casually lean against each other in the locker rooms. Or Roy’s little fist bumps to each of the lads to hype them up. You can use words or actions for your anger, but there’s a protocol for kindness.

And then there’s Zava, who’s an interesting bastard in his own right, because as people have pointed out he accepts touch from others but he doesn’t reciprocate. Dani fullbody hugs the man (after a goal, of course, the most acceptable time to do so) and the most he does is try to shake him off. If Richmond is reaching hands, then the most Zava has done is beckon them in and allow them to worship, like when he took over the huddle before the match- he allowed everyone to put their hands on Zava.

And Richmond is an especially sweet team under Ted’s tenure. So again we have Zava performing in a way that on surface level is inoffensive.

Except that there is one person that Zava makes a point to touch - and I do think he’s making a point about it. Even if we only saw it a few times, I think it was a good extension for showing us how Zava viewed Jamie.

I’ve talked before about how interesting the little one-two shoulder brush/ass slap was in that first match, because on the surface that is totally normally sports antics. It’s only Jamie’s little ‘wtf’ face that lampshades the true weirdness of a moment: this may be a teammate, but this is a dude he just met, someone he has no rapport with (compared to Dani, who created rapport through excitement and touching). But hey- new teammate, first match. As off of a moment it was, Jamie’s a team player now, so he did what he was told to do and passed the ball to Zava. And what a slap in the face that was, with Zava repeating one of the best goals we’ve seen from Jamie this who show.

Actual fucking mind games, this time. A pattern of them, in addition to singling Jamie out and asking if he’s the kitman when they first meet. Despite the fact that he already had his kit on. Despite the fact that he was in the middle of love-bombing everyone else.

And stealing Jamie’s goal. Which was so petty that even Roy Kent thought it was a bit too mean.

It’s not insidious, it’s not like he’s being bullied- but he is getting frozen out. Singled out by a player who walked in and made himself at home in Jamie’s spot.

Zava walks a careful, practiced line. He’s got a ton of experience on and off the pitch, and he knows where to give in and where to push. Dani can follow him around and touch him- he’ll allow it because Dani is harmless.

But I don’t think he thought Jamie was harmless. I think he saw Jamie as a threat, one that needed to be neutralized so that Zava could play in the manner he was accustomed to. Jamie is the ONLY one on the team that seemed to be trying to score - even the fucking announcers could see it.

So yeah, anytime Jamie stepped up a little too high, or seemed like he might be putting Zava’s reputation of #1 at risk, he would find these little footholds that he could use to climb over Jamie.

I think his grunt Zava gave when he lifted up the weight was the closest we got to Zava actually verbalizing his frustrations (also great metaphor, him lying under the weight and then shoving it off one last time. Good comparison to Colin ‘got-stuck-under-the-weights-that-time’ Hughes benching without a problem these days, like a strong and capable man). Richmond was on a losing streak, Jamie kept trying to button in on what should have been Zava’s goals, and now Jamie was also butting in on the leadership side as well.

The openly condescending thing to do would be to pet the top of Jamie’s hair like a dog, mussing it up. That’s a proper bully move. Instead he went for the back of the head and did that weird…..whatever that was. Was he combing his fingers through Jamie’s hair? Scratching him like a cat? Playing with his headband? Whatever it was it was out of focus, even though it was in front of a crowd. The same way that the first time was in the middle of a stadium, and yet so far away from anyone being able to see and hear what was happening. The only thing you could see, if you could be bothered to look away from Zava for a second, was how completely uncomfortable Jamie was with it. And I’m not sure the guys in the locker room noticed, not just because it’s Zava, but because on the surface nothing he’s done has stood out as a red flag.

‘Zava made a goal’ sounds better than ‘Zava stole that goal from Jamie’

‘Zava made a leader speech to motivate us’ sounds better than ‘Zava saw that Jamie was stepping up to encourage them, and felt the need to reassert himself by doing the same thing’

And ‘Zava is physically touchy with Jamie a few times’ sounds better than ‘Zava uses what should be perfectly safe locker room contact as a way to put Jamie in his place’.

#anyways I’m looking forward to how fucking juicy the fic harvest is gonna be after this season #ted lasso spoilers #jamie tartt #zava #what an interesting facet we’ve been given this year #also fuck me this is long

[robertdowneyjjr]

cackling at the thought of steve doing everything he can to not only get into tony’s good graces, but also maria’s. all while howard is just amusedly watching in the background.

so part 4 of the soulmates au @stark-and-shield @polizwrites @soliloquent-stark

(parts: one, two, three)

the next morning, steve quietly eats a late breakfast in the kitchen nook of the stark mansion while howard sits across from him reading the news on his tablet. sometimes steve wishes he could be a normal person again instead of jacked up on this super serum, because with the amount he’d been drinking the night before he’d be hungover as hell and that would be the only thing he could focus on. as it is though, he’s as sober as it gets and all he feels is embarrassment for being so dramatic and whiny the entire night he was out with howard.

he tries to ignore it all and focuses on stuffing his face with the massive omelette that jarvis had made for him. then he regrets it immediately when maria swans into the kitchen looking all elegant and beautiful while steve’s cheeks are puffed up from all the food he’s shoved in his mouth.

“good morning darling,” she greets her husband with a kiss on the cheek.

the joy evident in howard’s expression at this simple gesture once again reminds steve of his bad luck with his soulmate and he wonders for the millionth time if he’ll ever see the other man again. he’s trying really hard not to be jealous, but it’s hard when he feels so damn lonely all the time.

“steve, did you sleep well?” maria asks as she pours herself a cup of coffee.

steve hurriedly swallows his mouthful of egg and wipes his mouth before answering. for some reason maria always makes him feel like a chastised schoolboy even though she has never been anything but friendly to him.

“good, thanks maria. how was your night?”

“oh just wonderful,” maria gushes. “tony and i had a lovely time at the opera. howard, dear, tony told me the most fabulous news. he’s met his soulmate!”

howard grins. “that’s great! i’m happy for him. he’d been waiting for a long time,” he says.

again, steve can’t help but feel bitter about his own life. he forces a smile and softly responds, “good for him,” and hopes it doesn’t sound as condescending as those words could sometimes be.

“yes, well, he can tell you more about it some other time,” maria tells howard. “tony and i are going for brunch with ana in a bit. he should be coming downstairs soon.”

a few minutes later, steve’s ears perk up at the sound of unfamiliar footsteps approaching the kitchen. he’s never met howard’s son before despite having come out of the ice for two years already now. he knows howard and tony had a strained relationship that has steadily on the mend, and steve is looking forward to finally getting to know him.

“morning, mama. morning, dad,” says a voice that steve swears he’s heard somewhere before.

a man with dark hair and darker eyes turns the corner into the kitchen and steve’s jaw drops.

“you!” he exclaims.

tony stares at steve for a few beats. “you,” he says flatly.

“i’ve been looking for you.”

“right. well now you’ve seen me. mama, shall we go?” with that, he turns around and leaves the kitchen just as quickly as he’d entered it. maria follows him, but not without a knowing smirk directed at steve.

“what was that all about?” howard asks.

“it’s. it’s him, howard. your son is my soulmate.”

“you mean tony is the one you so casually yelled at in the middle of a busy street in new york city? the one who now has what is undoubtedly an awful reminder of how you met? tony. my son. he’s the one you’ve been looking for all this time?”

“yes! it’s him!”

steve smiles broadly and hope blossoms in his chest. his luck might just be turning around. howard will help him. he just knows it.

but howard just laughs loudly, guffaws shaking his entire body as he shakes his head.

“well, good luck, pal. you’re gonna need it.”

———

howard does the opposite of helping steve.

steve shows up to the mansion more often now despite knowing tony doesn’t actually live there. his hope is that at some point he’ll run into his soulmate again. tony’s close with his mom. he has to visit somewhat often, right?

“maria says we’re going to have to file a restraining order if you keep showing up like this,” howard says one day. “tony agrees with her.”

“howard, please! i just want some time with tony! why won’t he even give me a chance?” steve cries. this amount of whining coming from a grown ass man like him is unbecoming, he knows. but he doesn’t really care anymore.

“don’t worry steve i won’t actually file a restraining order against you. but if you’re going to keep coming over then at least bring some beer or a pizza with you, will ya? it’s the polite thing to do.”

he sends flowers to tony’s office everyday, and with them a note telling him he’ll be at the coffee shop where they first met, waiting at the corner table. tony never shows up.

“does he really hate me that much? did i really ruin it all right from the start?” steve asks.

“you know what, the hating you part is probably my fault. sorry buddy,” howard tells him, clapping him on the back.

“howard, what did you do?? if it’s your fault then you have to help me!”

“hmm, no. maria says she’s having fun watching you grovel and as my soulmate and love of my life, she’s the one person i’m supporting in this entire situation.”

“what the hell, howard!”

“if and when she decides you’ve done enough to atone for your sins then i’ll be here for you.”

“you’re a terrible friend. i’m going back into the ice.”

#tony DOES enjoy the flowers and he’s softening bit by bit okay #and tbh it’s pepper and maria who are telling him to hold out a bit more before caving #they want him to know his worth!! #stonyclunks soulmates au #stevetony #stony #kay writes things

[enkvyu]

sashisu dynamics with you ☆

𓃠 › gojo

his overbearing nature led to your relationship with him being twisted to competitive love from the very beginning. you didn't understand how getou and shoko could put up with his condescending smirk, eyes looking down at you with a permanent sneer, the ease in which he could click his fingers and the enemies around you would drop dead, his face when he waits for you to beat that, or better yet, to praise him

"yeah whatever, good job, gojo."

"can you say that again? i didn't start recording yet."

competitions upon competitions, every small thing becomes a heated battle. who can get up earlier, who can throw a slice of bread into the toaster from behind this line, who can get shoko to smile first, who can steal getou's pen without getting caught, who can draw on yaga's face without getting detention, who can hit double-digit completed missions in one day, race you to the classroom!

but despite the insults you both exchange, you find yourself comfortably depending on him when the time calls, and vice versa. bodies thrown into a dance upon a battlefield, backs to one another holding down the forte with only trust communicated behind closed mouths.

and when the loss of a friend haunts closed eyes, you find yourself in gojo's rare silence, drinking in the moonlight and the what if's. he'll let you in without a word, without a single utterance of confirmation, simply letting you cry out your broken heart in his finite embrace

𓃠 › getou

you could be fooled by his nonchalant attitude and carefree posture, thinking him first to be a rather distant friend but discovering later that he was the most observant of the trio. whether it be the casual drop of your favourite movie or the mention of a pet, getou seems to remember every small detail. he'll be the first to offer you his jacket when the slightest shiver overcomes you, but also the first to tease you when tears fill your lashline during a sad movie

which is most likely why you and him were in charge of every birthday party, taking small dates to your local supermarket and picking apart every purchase, finding fun behind halloween masks and easter bunny headbands. sometimes, you'll find yourselves thrown out of the shop despite getou's attempts to woo the manager. eventually though, they'll fall for his caring charm like they all do, whilst you roll your eyes at his facade

"getou, i'm dead."

"put that skeleton back before we get kicked out again."

watching a cruel smile take over getou's face, you're unnerved at how unlike himself he seemed. no wait, perhaps you should be more concerned at how your dead friend was standing before you now, patient like how you knew him, but painted in unfamiliarity with the blood of friends. he doesn't immediately find himself at your side when his eyes search your figure and find the gaping wound at your hip, he wasn't there to cover you when curses had leapt at your vulnerable stance, no, instead he was the perpetrator

this wasn't the getou you knew

𓃠 › shoko

with your dorms right next to each other, its easy for you both to sneak into each other's rooms. muffled giggles behind trembling palms, walking on your toes, fearing the creak of wooden boards or the clatter of slamming doors. bated breaths lay dormant in your mouths and sometimes when your eyes catch in the filtering moonlight, they'll release in giggles

on the days you return from missions early, and the silence of the corridors feed the brewing uncertainties in your stomach, you'll find purchase in her room, comfort in the familiarity of cigarette smoke and fresh laundry. when she finds you curled up in her bed, it isn’t the words of disgust that leaves her mouth and instead, she simply asks if you want to watch a horror movie

it’s therapeutic, screaming away your worries in darkness, her face, usually expressionless now alit with mild fear and the glow from the screen, just enough to ground you in the present. the feeling of her hand in yours, holding on like she’s your lifeline, though she never gives up the opportunity to keep you on the edge. 

“... BOO!”

“shoko, what the fuck?” 

and when the sun rolls over to kiss the skies, you’ll realise you spent another sleepless night in shoko’s room. while you trudge to class, the lack of sleep catching up, shoko will appear as functional and sane as ever. she may watch and snicker, joining in on the teasing, but she’ll help keep you awake by picking up a pen and doodling on your arm, sometimes silly caricatures of gojo and getou, or outlandish comics and other shenanigans that’ll cause you to accidentally laugh out loud, and land you both in detention. but by then, your nighttime terrors will seem like only a blurry memory 

#sashisu #sss trio #gojo hcs #gojo x reader #gojo ff #gojo angst #getou hcs #getou x reader #getou ff #getou angst #shoko hcs #shoko x reader #shoko ff #shoko angst #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk hcs

[chronic-lesbian]

Salam! I hope your day is going well!! Is it just me or is this site like, extremely islamophobic. I made the mistake of looking through the hijab tag and it made me feel so gross. I’m considering getting off of it entirely tbh but maybe i’d like it more if i strictly stayed away other blogs

Salam!!!! Oh I'm going to be honest this site is extremely islamophobic but loves to pretend like it's not. This is kind of gonna be a long reply so sorry for that fndjfjrjfb

The hijab/hijabi tag is mostly just blogs sexualizing people with hijabs, which is disgusting and gross and literally is going against the boundaries and wishes of hijabis, as we're literally covering up to avoid that, and as a hijabi thinking about it makes me feel sick.

A couple of years back I'd go through the blogs just to block and report but after I noticed those blogs never got deleted and that my reports seemed to not do anything I just gave up and stopped going to the tag to not upset myself.

Even general Islamophobia is very normalized, as it is also normal within society, and I've seen an uptick in open and loud islamophobia after Zionists got more bold on here, and some people seem to just parrot it without ever thinking about it.

I've personally even had whole arguments with people claiming that "people from developed countries (read: people who are more intelligent) are less religious" as if that's not the most racist and weird thing you could possibly say. Calling it out got me blocked and I was called a moron over it.

Or every time I make a post being angry about the hijab bans in West Europe and the islamophobia and racism that manifests itself through it, I get people telling me that islam is evil and i should go back to my country and that when I'm "back in my country" I'd be killed for being a lesbian so I should be grateful about European countries or whatever. Which is an insane thing to say and also. Again. Racist and Islamophobic but they fully think they're in the right.

It takes a lot of time tbh but I've found blogs that make it worth to stay on here, like other fellow lgbt Muslims or Muslims who are very open about being allies, and some non Muslim friends who do listen when I talk about these issues, would defend me if I ever needed it on here, and respect it when I correct them or point out something they've said is islamophobic and they change.

If you choose to stay, I'd really recommend trying to stay within the Tumblr you've curated for yourself and blocking people if they upset you. It's hard to not check what people are saying in certain tags sometimes and it's hard to just block and move on as well bc some of the things I've seen have been very upsetting, but in the end your mental health comes first and these people are not worth our time.

They're condescending bigots who are so filled with hatred and malice they seem to forget we as Muslims are a diverse group of people and we are human too. And sometimes said hatred can be crushingly casual, but finding people who understand and respect you will ultimately make this site and this experience so much better and tolerable.

In the end it is 100% your decision, and you should do what you think is the best for you, but if you want to vent about Islamophobia or just talk my inbox is always open!

#a little more than kin a little less than kind.txt

[bettsfic]

1. The glory is amazing! So glad you’re watching it.

2. I was wondering. Do you have any tips or know of any maybe “odd” ways in which people approach writing scenes? Ive scene some people start with dialogue first, or plot the scene and then fill things in. I just want to know more ways of approaching it. I had it in my mind that “everyone” sits down and writes the scene completely (with dialogue, setting description, internal thoughts, etc…) from beginning to end, that it was the only approach.

oh my god, i had an actual dream that i responded to this ask and then opened my inbox to find i had not. i'm sure what i said in my dream is probably way cooler than what i can do in reality but that's the story of my life, really.

there are definitely times where i can write out a scene with all the stuff in it and it comes out pretty well. but there are also plenty of times where all i know is that A Thing Has To Happen.

a good place to start is just to write down the thing that has to happen. a lot of people skip little steps like this but when you're stuck, writing down what you know is always a good place to start. so something like,

character A and character B develop mutual animosity and become enemies.

so the next question is, how? then you write that down in the same fashion.

character A refers to B with an array of colorful pet names and B finds it condescending.

(yes this is a fic i'm writing right now.)

from there, you go into more detail, until it reads like a full summary of the scene.

character A calls character B "honey" without thinking, because he's the kind of person who uses pet names. B points out this is condescending. A is aghast; he finds it a charming aspect of his personality. who doesn't enjoy a little casual affection? B does not enjoy casual affection. she tells him to cut that shit out.

and so on, until you've got a good grasp of what happens. then you take that summary and put it in the voice of your narrator, which may not be so different than your summary paragraph.

he called her "honey" without thinking. she told him that was condescending. he was aghast--wasn't that a charming aspect of his personality? who doesn't enjoy a little casual affection? cut that shit out, she told him.

from there, you can start to expand and add detail. you could break out the dialogue first, or maybe do some scene setting in the form of establishing where they are, when it happens, who incites the conversation and how, etc. and you just keep going until you're happy with it.

i don't write every scene like this, but it's my go-to method when i'm breaking out particularly tough plot points.

#writing advice #drafting

[xximpressions]

Heir to Valyria (7)

Daemon Targaryen x Valyrian!reader

Series Summary: What if the Targaryens survived the Doom of Valyria only to discover three centuries later that they were not the only family to have made it out? When such news comes to light, the Rogue Prince may be the only one to keep this new House as a friendly ally rather than as a deadly enemy.

Chapter Summary: The Hand has escaped

Word Count: 1,062

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Previous | Next

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You could say Lord Hightower was not entirely prepared to be on the run having anticipated your arrest and not his own.

For one thing, he only had the clothes he was wearing as it would have been foolish to return to his chambers to gather anything else.

For that same reason, he only had access to the few gold coins he kept on his person since he knew going back meant being captured.

With those facts in mind, the disgraced Hand headed directly toward the beaches in the hopes of absconding with a boat that had possibly been left behind.

A feeble plan, but a plan nonetheless.

Looking back several times to ensure he was not being followed, Otto hurriedly made his way down one of the sand dunes that led to the water.

And just as he prayed for, an abandoned fishing boat was flipped over inches away from where the tide met the shore.

Letting out a small, delirious laugh at seeing his escape laid before him, Lord Hightower kicked up both dirt and water as he made a break for his salvation.

He had been mere steps away when the wooden vessel suddenly burst into flames!

Skidding to such a halt that he fell on his backside, the startled man quickly raised his hands to cover his ears when a sudden screech made them ring.

Frantically trying to make sense of what had happened, Otto’s eyes darted back and forth until they landed on a sight that made his heart stop.

“Greetings, Hightower.”

Your husband said as he commanded Caraxes close enough to the advisor that he felt the rumbles of the dragon’s landing shake his very bones.

Swallowing thickly, Otto made sure to keep his eyes on the vicious beast and its rider as he made his way to his feet with a slow precaution.

Once at full height, his gaze locked onto the mounted man in front of him while he huffed out his reply,

“Prince Daemon.”

The conniving creature said his name with just enough defeat in the hopes of getting his adversary to lower his guard the slightest bit.

If he succeeded, he might be able to get to the dagger he kept tucked away in his robes. And with that in hand, the playing field might tilt a little more in his favor.

This was a desperate thought of course, but given how probable his capture was becoming, the doomed Hand was willing to try anything.

In an attempt to distract the Prince while he discreetly sought the blade, Otto instigatingly sneered out,

“I am surprised your wife was not the one to intercept me,” he said, spitting the word. “I suppose she is not as clever as she thinks she is.”

Because his mind was celebrating the new grasp his hand had on the hilt, he did not register the growing smirk that appeared on Daemon’s face as he casually replied,

“Oh, I would not say that. After all, she managed to sneak up on you without any issue. Is that not right, my Darling?”

Within the same day, Lord Hightower was feeling the cold tip of a sword being held to his neck for the second time. And he could not help allowing it to freeze the blood in his veins as he went still once again.

“It was not very hard, my Love.”

You said with a condescending tone as you stood behind the man with your arm and blade extended.

To add insult to injury, you finished announcing your presence by saying,

“It is not like the Hand ever had the reputation of being observant.”

Despite how reluctant he was to do it, Lord Hightower slowly turned around in order to face you. In doing so, he also saw the regiment of guards he had commanded not even hours ago now focusing on him as the threat.

With an expression that can only be described as satisfied, you called out to the men who would have once taken you prisoner.

Looking directly into the condemned advisor’s eyes as you smirked with triumph, you happily gave the following order: 

“Arrest Lord Hightower.”

As the reality of his situation hit, Otto finally pulled his dagger out as his rage boiled over.

Using it to strike your extended sword away from his body, he took the opportunity to quickly rush at you and end this once and for all.

But the momentum given to you by his push resulted in a spin that helped you to dodge the first stabbing thrust of his blade.

When you had to swiftly spin back the other way to avoid another fatal blow, your sword glided through the air with you. The world became still when you came to an abrupt halt while facing away from your attacker.

For a few moments, all you could hear was the sound of your own breathing as you waited for your survival instincts to calm down.

But soon, your ears picked up on the sound of Lord Hightower’s knees hitting the beach.

When a following thump was heard, you knew you did not have to be facing the other way to know that Otto was now laid out on the sandy ground.

What else was to be expected when his body no longer had a head? 

Without a backward glance, you commanded the guards.

“Collect him and inform the King that the Hand is dead.”

Nodding their acquiescence, the guards set about following your orders while the Prince dismounted from Caraxes and hurriedly made his way over to you. 

“Wife, are you alright?”

His hands were flying over your body in search of any hidden injuries when he asked this question. You grabbed and comfortingly held them close to your chest before saying,

“I am alright, Husband. But I need to see my mother now that this is over. I must know if she plans to retaliate.”

Understanding that Valyria would be well within their rights to do so, Daemon nodded and said,

“Of course.” 

Using one of your hands to guide you back to his dragon, the Prince climbed on first before reaching down to pull you into the saddle.

Once you had a secure hold on his waist, Caraxes took off in the direction of the castle where the fate of both countries was to be decided.

Previous | Next

A/N: Thoughts? Comments?? Questions??? Concerns????

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Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel | @untitled75630 | @joygirlmelii | @stargaryenx | @winxschester | @briana-mishell24 | @mamamooqa | @queenmendes | @blackravena | @llovinjoonie | @cleverzonkwombatsludge | @littlemisscosplayer | @danart501 | @thirsty4nonlivingmen | @being-worthy | @secretdazeobservation | @sweetybuzz25 | @omgsuperstarg | @salembridger | @sithapprentice | @todod0kii | @tetgod | @sammy-13 | @secretdazeobservation | @nickrew | @goldeneagles-posts | @stitchattacks | @dd122004dd | @insertsomethingsillyhereple-blog | @targaryenmoony | @goldensunflowe-r | @avadakadabra93 | @remuslupinwifee

#hotd #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x black!reader

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 1

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. -------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

Warning: Minor emotional abuse included.

One might assume that growing up surrounded by wealth and luxury makes someone the luckiest person alive. Having seen the struggles and sacrifices of the poor in society, you could confirm that this assumption was not entirely false. Since Gold Roger's announcement about the One Piece, a legendary treasure that no one had found for 22 years, piracy had become rampant. You lived in an era where gold and status held more importance than anything else, even family itself.

You witnessed an increase in deceptions and subterfuge, whether it was on the open sea or within your own household. Your father was a successful entrepreneur with a modest number of valuable connections, both in the private sector and among Marine colonels and various associates. It was extremely important for you to follow his protocol and ensure that everything was accomplished in a way that upheld your family's reputation.

Unfortunately, this also meant agreeing to a forced engagement with one of the admirals' son, regardless of what your heart desired.

It could have been so simple, really. A firm and confident "no" was to be expected from you, as you never wanted to marry for benefits, but only for love. And yet, throughout your entire life, you struggled to find the courage to go against what everyone wanted you to do. As a natural people-pleaser who didn't like disappointing those around, you grew up surrounded by cruelty, opportunism, and a severe lack of affection.

You were trained to be nice and condescending, having to wear a fake smile at all times, and when necessary, even put your cleavage on display with the nicest dresses in your wardrobe. Or, to describe it more accurately, your mother's wardrobe.

Your parents barred you from selecting the garments that you would be most comfortable in. You harbored a preference for a more casual look, which consisted of shirts and fitting pants, leather jackets, and boots. Nevertheless, in accordance with their view, such clothes did not suit a lady of your importance. Consequently, you had to store your own funds separately, and keep the non-compliant outfits inside a concealed wooden box.

Occasionally, you were able to experience a sliver of freedom with your best and only friends from your hometown, conjuring up plausible alibi while avoiding arousing any suspicions. They were the only ones who addressed you with kind and considerate words, openly expressing their views that opposed your constant acceptance without putting up a fight.

You knew they were perfectly correct in their statements, yet you were unable to ascertain the missing drive and find that spark within you; the strength you had tried to put into good use whenever your parents confined you to your room for several days, with the bare minimum food intake as a method of teaching you a lesson concerning the specific expectations that they wanted from the good and well-mannered girl whom they attempted to nurture.

You had no voice left in your throat to scream, alongside possessing a minimal amount of stamina to retaliate and advocate for yourself amid the continued degradation that you had to face on a consistent basis.

You thoroughly despised your cowardice. You dreamed of an existence where you could stand up for yourself, fighting for what you wanted with full determination and fervor. And yet, that day still felt so far away, as you were constrained to attend one business dinner after another, whether with your parents present or by yourself.

They wanted a doll, so you acted like one.

You didn't know yet, but everything was about to change significantly and unexpectedly on that fateful night.

There was a particular location known as the Baratie Restaurant Ship that served the most high-class and succulent dishes in the entirety of the East Blue. Your parents expressed considerable enthusiasm towards dining at this establishment and subsequently extended an invitation to your father's closest admiral associate, along with your presumed fiancé. As a result, you were summoned to attend the gathering without any possibility of evasion.

Your friends advised you to feign illness and make a covert escape from your home as soon as the ship set sail, but you were exceedingly familiar with your parents' modus operandi better than anyone else. You discerned that they would have surely transported you with them even if you were physically disabled, so you chose your mother's favorite dress for the occasion, applied your makeup, and selected the kind of uncomfortable shoes that you disliked wearing while standing due to their tight fit and high heels.

As soon as you arrived at the docks, the aroma of cooked meat, grilled fish, and baked potatoes filled the air. Upon entering the restaurant, a soothing melody immediately greeted your ears. While your parents spoke with the fishman at the entrance about their reservation, you took in the upscale setting. Admiring the ambiance, you appreciated the cozy atmosphere with dim lights lending a romantic vibe that made it the perfect spot for a genuine couple.

Christopher, your supposed fiancé, touched your back in an unpleasant manner as he analyzed every patron in the establishment with a visible expression of disdain.

"I'm sure some of these people are filthy pirates," he sneered. "I hope the food is as good as they say.”

With a forced smile on your face, you nonchalantly stepped away from his hold. "You can't exactly choose the customers, Chris," you said pointedly, hoping to discourage any further negativity.

The man seemed unfazed by your rejection and proceeded to walk down the stairs. Your parents followed suit, escorted to your designated location for the evening with the admiral following in tow. His usual grin was plastered on his face, and he strode past you as you stood frozen, not saying a word.

You took deep breaths in an attempt to calm your frazzled emotions, but your heart continued to hammer in your chest with a loud, pounding rhythm.

"Come on, Y/N, you can do it. Just a couple of hours, you'll survive this," you whispered to yourself, trying to muster up some courage and push through the discomfort.

You swallowed the lump that had surfaced in your throat and then joined the group near the center area of the restaurant, waiting for the others to take their seat on the long couch made of high quality leather.

Despite Sanji's best efforts, Zeff once again belittled and ignored one of his delicious meals, causing him to be relegated to the lowly role of a waiter. As he hurriedly wiped down a table, clearing it of the empty plates and keeping the growing pile on his left hand, Sanji's gaze casually shifted to the group of people that had just arrived at the Baratie. He abruptly turned around for a moment when he caught a glimpse of you, utterly entranced by your beauty and the elegant movement of tucking a hair strand behind your ear as you took in your surroundings.

Sanji found himself staring at you longer than he intended to, his lips curving into a wide smile the moment you settled onto the couch and subtly adjusted the fabric of your dress to conceal your thighs. Amidst the vibrant conversation that occupied the others, you remained quiet and reserved, lightly tugging at the corner of your lips as you tried to blend in.

Even though they all engaged in lively chatter, you showed no special interest in the topic of discussion, drifting away and briefly meeting Sanji's eyes in a quick glance of contact.

To Sanji's displeasure, the man sitting near you attempted to capture your attention by holding the menu in front of you. You redirected your focus to carefully inspect the list, and Sanji was left standing there, one hand tucked in his pocket, watching as your lips pressed together in concentration.

Amongst the multitude of female patrons present that night, you stood out as the most mesmerizing for reasons that he struggled to put into words. Sanji hastily gathered the remaining clutter, taking it to the kitchen before fixing his jacket and tidying up his hair to make it look as neat as possible.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back into the dining hall, walking towards your table with long and confident strides.

Christopher wasted no time in adopting an uncouth position that led to his leg frequently brushing against yours on the couch. Luckily, you were seated at the edge of the furniture piece, providing you with a convenient escape route if needed.

Your attention was successfully diverted from your tense predicament by the sound of footsteps approaching your table. When you raised your head once more, you saw the blond waiter that you had noticed earlier halting in front of your group with an elegant stance.

As you viewed him from a distance, you couldn't tell whether his radiant grin was intended for you or someone else. But as the two of you now came face-to-face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked from up close.

You felt yourself growing flushed under his intense gaze, his beaming smile making you feel as if he were peering right into your soul in a way you were not particularly used to.

“Welcome to our Restaurant, my name is Sanji. What can I bring for you?”

The sharp switch between his pleasant demeanor and mild frustration whenever the men made their statements about what to drink or eat was quite amusing, but it was difficult to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach when he turned his attention towards you again, with the same radiant smile from before. “Madam?”

It took you a moment to respond, as you were unable to process the suitable thing to say. "I'll have whatever is best on the menu. Surprise me.”

His grin increased in size to the point where you were able to witness his exquisite set of gleaming white teeth. "And what would you like to drink?”

Just as you were about to respond to his question, your mother intervened and answered on your behalf. "She enjoys fine wine, just like her fiancé. Could we have an esteemed bottle?”

If your eyes were able to hurlin daggers, the intensity of your glare would have been enough to pierce her head on the spot. For the first time, you felt the powerful urge to rebel against her declaration, as you had always known that retaliation is most appropriate when served ice-cold.

You turned back to the man named Sanji, offering a big smile in return. "Actually, I would prefer water. With ice, thank you.”

“Cubed or crushed?”

“Cubed is fine.”

It appeared that everyone was simultaneously startled and speechless because of the bold pronouncement you had made, which provided you with intense satisfaction as you continued to keep up your firm countenance.

Sanji took a small pause, observing the tense atmosphere that had materialized in the air and moving his gaze back and forth. Upon perceiving how determined you were about your order, he nodded and walked away from your table area. “Coming right up.”

You became aware that Sanji had neglected to note everyone else's orders. However, you presumed that due to the restaurant's renowned reputation, he was competent enough to recall them without any major problems.

In the meantime, your mother nervously clenched her hands, seemingly ready to voice her complaint to you.

And so, she did.

"What was that?" she asked you.

"Nothing," you said, trying to appear oblivious. "What’s the matter, mom? I can't even decide what I want to drink?”

"I thought you preferred wine, just like Christopher.”

You raised your shoulders in a dismissive gesture and remarked, "See, that's how little you know about your own daughter.”

Your father, who had maintained a disturbing calmness up until this point, sternly uttered your name. Given the vibrations in his voice and his expression that exuded a certain level of seriousness, it was apparent that he was about to give one of his reproaching speeches.

“You are crossing a line here,” he warned you in a forceful tone. "I won't accept any form of disrespect tonight.”

Maybe you didn't want to seem weak and easily influenced in front of that attractive waiter, but the threshold of tolerance was likely about to overflow.

"Disrespectful? How is ordering water instead of wine considered disrespectful?”

In the past few years, your father had managed to keep you obedient through his strict upbringing, making you timid and condescending out of fear of the consequences. Memories of his controlling treatment during your childhood were still fresh in your mind, and even if his presence continued to make you feel uncomfortable and restricted, on this particular evening you had a distinct feeling.

And he didn’t like your newfound attitude of independence.

"You will not speak to me like that, especially not in front of our guests.”

Admiral Joseph Wheeler crossed his arms in front of his chest and displayed a facial expression that indicated amusement and nonchalance. “Oh no, don’t mind us.”

You rolled your eyes and reacted with evident disdain."I can’t believe we’re arguing over a drink. I said I wanted water, and I don’t see why you have to treat it like front-page news scandal.”

As the conversation continued, your father's anger seemed to intensify, and you couldn't help but enjoy watching the scene unfold.

"Well, I thought you preferred wine too," Christopher said. "That's what you told me.”

“No, that’s what they told you to please you. I never did.”

“Y/N.”

You felt your stress and tension levels starting to creep on you, and dinner hadn't even begun yet. For a brief moment, you locked eyes with your father and held his firm gaze with your own fierce expression, all while tightly gripping the tabletop with your fists, careful not to rip it.

Admiral Wheeler, on the other hand, suddenly burst into hearty laughter and repeatedly patted your father on the shoulder as a sign of approval. "Would you look at that, your daughter has got some bite!”

You were unable to decipher the true meaning behind his remark. It was unclear whether it was intended as a compliment or as a way to ridicule and diminish you even further.

At the very least, your father appeared noticeably relieved to see Admiral Wheeler entertaining himself. "She must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Your heart began to race as you heard these words. They always made it their personal mission to outsmart and defeat you in various ways. Did your family really see you as that insignificant, only good for their schemes and to be discarded once they no longer needed you? Did they hope to entrust you to Christopher, just to finally be rid of your presence in their home while solidifying their partnership with the admiral?

You suppressed the emotion of sorrow that loomed within your eyes, managing to push the tears back by promptly blinking a few times.

Sanji the waiter returned after a brief moment, carrying a tray that held beverages and empty glasses. You were the first to be served, as he took his time to pour you some water before affably filling your glass with a few glistening ice cubes. The bright smile he displayed proved to be infectious, causing your entire body to relax simply through looking at his face.

Following standard etiquette, your mother was the second to receive her drink. Despite his cordialness and compliments towards the woman, causing her to turn red and giggle in delight, he utilized a noticeably different approach as he filled the remaining beverages. Christopher, who clearly doubted Sanji's intentions, scrutinized him with suspicion, and you could tell that the waiter, in turn, was conducting a similar examination of the man seated next to you.

Sanji's change in behavior was impressively smooth and appealing, as he diverted his attention back to you, flashing another wide grin and producing a beautiful snowy flower from the inner pouch of his jacket.

"For you, madam," he said, presenting a white tulip to you.

You were rendered utterly speechless and astounded, as you stared alternatingly between the flower and his eyes.

"For me...?" you asked in disbelief, hesitantly taking the stem and brushing his fingers in the process.

“Something beautiful for someone beautiful.”

His voice, accent, golden strands of hair falling over his left eye, and the consistent smiles he gave you with his hands placed inside his pockets made your legs feel abnormally weak. Although you were not unfamiliar with men demonstrating flirtatious conduct in your presence, Sanji was able to present himself in a pleasant manner using the right approach.

For a brief moment, you pondered the possibility that Sanji's small, kind act stemmed from recognizing your uneasiness. Your rapid assessment of the dining hall revealed that none of the other female customers had received a flower, either holding it in their hands or having it placed on the tabletop.

And so, mimicking his smile, you accepted his gift. "Thank you so much. That's very nice of you.”

Unfortunately, the calm within your mind was ultimately destroyed when Christopher grasped your left hand. He proceeded to delicately entwine his fingers with yours and moved closer to you on the couch as a form of ostentation.

"Yes, well. Aren't you supposed to wait on other tables and bring our orders, Sanbey?”

The blond maintained his cool, politely diverting his head towards your fiancé. His mouth formed a narrow line, and his eyes transformed to a darker color. “It’s Sanji.”

Chris grunted. "Whatever. Now get lost.”

A wave of bitterness and loathing flooded over you, to the point where you perceived an acidic flavor at the back of your tongue. Gradually, you removed your hand from Christopher’s grasp and subtly slid further onto the cushion in order to escape his hold.

Before Sanji could leave, you leaned over and gently reached for his elbow, not actually making physical contact with it, but just using a feather-like touch. "Please don't mind him. Your service is greatly appreciated," you said.

"Beautiful and sweet. Thank you, madam, I'll be back with your orders.”

Concealing the pang in your heart when you watched him stepping away required a moderate amount of effort. Sanji's flirty mannerism could potentially be a facade, developed specifically for marketing the restaurant and gain potential returning customers. Nevertheless, you discerned that his persona was wholly authentic, as the glistening glimmer in his eyes provided evidence of his genuine attraction towards females.

As you sank down into your thoughts, you held onto the flower with your thumb and forefinger, inhaling its delicate, soothing aroma. For a moment, you even forgot that you were sitting among other people. When you remembered, an uncomfortable silence fell over the table.

"Did you really enjoy that?" Christopher asked, forming fists with a visible sign of distress.

“I do like the flower, if that’s what you mean,” you replied.

"Oh, so now you're going to accept flowers from the first dandy stranger?”

You had to contain the deep sigh that you wanted to let out. "You're being ridiculous now, he works here.”

"Yes, and you didn't even try to reject his advances.”

Normally, you would drop the argument before it could escalate, striving to behave like a scoundrel solely to appease his anger and convince him that there was no reason for concern. However, this time something snapped inside you, and you made a decision that you were not going to back down.

"Well, maybe you should start looking at yourself in the mirror for once.”

An unexpected blow on the table caused everyone present to jump at the sudden gesture, to the point where even the people sitting a few feet away fell silent. Your father was livid, glaring at you in a manner that showed his sheer desire to incinerate you with only the power of his mind.

“Apologize immediatly,” he growled at you.

Once again, you were almost tempted to do as he said, but you forced yourself to keep staring back without reacting.

Admiral Wheeler sneered again. "She's not entirely wrong, son. I keep telling you to style your hair differently. You look like a mop.”

"Hey! Whose side are you on?!”

Your father reacted with great indignation, displaying a flushed face due to the embarrassment he had just experienced. Your mother, who had remained quiet until that point, finally sat up straight on the couch and spoke. "No Joseph, my husband is right. I can see the wit and charm of that waiter, but she shouldn't flirt around with other men when her fiancé is right next to her. I would expect such behavior from a low-class prostitute.”

If your blood could flow any faster, it's possible that you would spontaneously combust.

"First, you complain about my drinking choices, and now I'm criticized for accepting a souvenir?”

She clicked her tongue. "Your lack of consideration for Chris is appalling.”

In your peripheral view, you saw the man in question acknowledging your mother's declaration with a subdued nod. All you longed for was to violently upend the table and make your escape, stealing the vessel in which you arrived and forcing them to return to their abode by virtue of swimming.

Unfortunately, you were cognizant of your limits, and you simply didn't have it in you at this time.

In the end, knowing that a further discussion would be of no use, you reluctantly decided to tolerate their judgment while grinding your teeth and clenching your jaw tightly.

There did not seem to be any viable means of extricating yourself from such an unwanted reunion anyway.

Sanji knew that Zeff had barred him from the kitchen for his creative initiative with off-menu dishes, yet upon noticing the sorrow and anguish on your angelic visage, he felt a powerful impulse to personally cook for you. After all, you requested the best they had to serve, and there was no one who possessed the skill necessary to fulfill your exacting taste aside from him.

Sanji wanted to make you smile. It was his personal mission to delight the women who strolled into their restaurant, but with you, a distinctive motivation operated his dexterity with ease, driving all his actions behind the stove.

Sanji didn't know you, and it was already established that he lacked the will to resist an appealing lady whenever he saw one. But even though you were unfamiliar to him, you possessed your own unique vigor that seemed to fascinate him more than anyone else in the entire restaurant. Additionally, he could still perceive your delicate touch upon his forearm, causing his skin to tingle beneath the fabric of his rolled-up sleeve.

Patty had attempted to persuade him, fully aware of the excessive fury the Chef was prone to display upon discovering his colleague was cooking things that he never approved. Nevertheless, Sanji refused to listen, stubbornly cutting the fillet of cod into flawless square shapes, boiling the rice, and adorning your dish with the appropriate amount of seasoning.

As the best cook in all of East Blue, Sanji didn't just desire to produce food that was delectable to the palate. He wanted his creations to appeal to someone's soul, seeking to connect with their innermost sentiments and touch the deepest aspects of their heart.

Sanji wished to refrain from interfering, but it was straightforward for him to notice that you were unhappy and very uncomfortable in the presence of your handsy boyfriend. Frankly, no one else at the table seemed to possess a particularly considerate attitude towards you. You resembled the most unblemished bloom, a creature who could imbue an entire room with radiance. It was unbearable for him to see you afflicted.

The moment Zeff returned to the kitchen, Patty surreptitiously departed to the storage area. The food for your group was completed and ready to be served, although the man did not refrain from offering a plethora of critiques for Sanji’s work for your order. However, the young man swiftly put his jacket back on and retrieved the dishes while displaying an exuberant expression, leaving Zeff behind rolling his eyes at the sous chef for his constant inflexibility.

Over the next few minutes, you refrained from speaking while your parents discussed trivial matters with Joseph and Christopher, addressing topics that simply failed to engage you being related to their business. The flower had been placed on the tabletop and in front of your glass, which you incessantly observed for its beauty, grazing at the velvety petals with your fingertips. Your eyes then became transfixed on the ice cubes as they cracked and dissolved into the water, emitting a vivid rainbow-like reflection on your skin.

You mentally thanked the Divine and quietly breathed a sigh of relief when Sanji reappeared. He was holding two large trays filled with all of your meals, which were smoking hot and exuded a heavenly scent from their plates.

Just like before, you were the first to be promptly served in a chivalrous manner. Sanji set a bowl of rice before you, and just by taking a look at it, you could immediatly notice that it was a genuine work of art. The white grains were embellished with vibrant pieces of codfish, minced spinach, intermingled cherry tomatoes, and basil leaves. It was something refined, yet also simple enough for your taste. The chef who prepared the dish for you crafted it with clear passion and consideration for the ingredients.

"I have the most delicious pot of cod and rice for you, madam. A house specialty.”

The wink he gave you when you exchanged yet another glance with him struck you in the gut, but in order to prevent a third argument from erupting, you responded with a small, tight smile.

"A Bouillabaisse for the lady," he continued, extending a plate of fish soup to your mother. "And for our fine gentlemen, a boulette, bifstek, and Dress Shrimp Paella.”

You were inclined to laugh upon observing the dirty look that Sanji shot towards Christopher, almost halting himself in the middle of his action of setting down his plate on the table. You couldn't help but speculate that Sanji was potentially taking your side despite merely having observed your interactions.

Or at the very least, you liked thinking that was the case for once.

Christopher remained placid without uttering a word of protest, retrieving his fork and promptly engaging in devouring his food. Admiral Joseph and your parents proceeded to immediately take part in their dinner as well, and Sanji politely excused himself with his unique manners, moving to another table nearby.

Without hesitation, you picked up your spoon and scooped a serving of rice, inhaling its appetizing fragrance before introducing it to your mouth. As you started chewing, you closed your eyes in utter satisfaction, allowing the food to melt on your tongue before swallowing. The rice was incredibly rich and creamy, yet not heavy on your stomach. The cod was of significantly higher quality than any other fish you had, and the spinach seamlessly combined with the tomatoes in an exquisite explosion of flavors.

As you savored every bite of the meal, each one better than the previous, a large grin instinctively formed on your face.

Before vanishing behind the wooden doors of the kitchen, Sanji cast a curious glance towards you from afar. You were eating the meal with your eyes closed in ecstasy, savoring each bite of rice with care and delicacy. Your smile was so appealing that Sanji had never witnessed such a sight before.

Just then, you released a melodic cackle that Sanji could only barely detect from his distant position. He saw you turning to the others while gesturing at the bowl, bringing your hand against your chest, exactly where your heart was located. "If this isn't the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, I don't know what is,” you exclaimed.

Sanji's smile grew even wider upon hearing your assertion. He marveled at the sparkle in your eyes as you giggled with every mouthful of the rice he had prepared exclusively for you.

Your parents, Admiral Wheeler, and even Christopher all concurred in regards to the quality cuisine, regarding their dishes as incredibly satisfying and asking for further portions. Throughout the entire dinner, they seated at the table exuding a noticeably elevated sense of contentment. They were at a loss for words, and you definitely appreciated the peace and quiet with a lighter heart.

Unfortunately, the calm atmosphere didn't last long as your mother finally asked the dreaded question you had been avoiding for quite some time.

"So, when are you two going to tie the knot?”

You accidentally gulped down a considerable amount of water, leading to a series of coughs as you tried to alleviate the uncomfortable raspy feeling in your pharynx.

Chris let out a small chuckle, displaying a mixture of embarrassment as he scratched the back of his disheveled and unruly black hair.

"Ah, well. I haven't given it much thought yet," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"You two are old enough to start your own family," she continued, "Hopefully, you won't keep us waiting for too long.”

You took a deep breath, keeping your composure and refraining from delivering a sharp retort to your mother.

As Christopher extended his right hand along the back of the sofa and brushed it against your bare shoulder, you shivered at the physical contact. You pushed yourself forward, reaching out to grab a slice of bread as an excuse to retreat from him and create some distance.

“Y/N? You don't have anything to say?" your mother questioned, her tone filled with anticipation.

You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating the appropriate response to give. Ultimately, you realized that you were mentally and emotionally exhausted to fabricate a falsehood.

“No, I don’t.”

The entire table's attention was now focused on you, as your parents stared at you intensely, their eyes fixed on your face with piercing scrutiny.

What?" you asked with your mouth full. "Do we really have to discuss this right now?”

"Yes, we do," your father replied. "Your carefree and indifferent attitude needs to change.”

With mounting annoyance, you allowed the remaining chunk of bread to slip into your empty bowl.

"I'm sorry, but we're discussing my life here," you said, asserting yourself. "Are you seriously going to make decisions on it without my consent?”

Once again, your father's temper flared. He stood up from the couch, using one hand to support himself on the table as he restrained his anger.

"Oh, you can rest assured that we will. What are you even good at without our guidance? Do you seriously believe that we would let you throw away everything we've built?”

This time, it was you who slammed your palms. "And what is it that you've built, dad? An empire of lies, hypocrisy, and dirty money?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

A deafening silence spread across the room, causing the other diners who were engrossed in their own conversations to stop and redirect their attention to your table. The two of you engaged in a new staring contest with a comparable level of fervor, but in an effort to maintain a sense of decorum and avoid causing further ruckus in the restaurant, you exhaled a frustrated grunt and shifted slightly in your seat. You assumed a slouched position with your forearms crossed in front of you, diverting your teary eyes downwards.

Christopher attempted to provide you with some solace, sliding his hand beyond your hair while gently stroking the side of your face with the underside of his fingers. Still, you didn't want any of his attention. You moved your head away and shunned him by raising one hand up.

Admiral Wheeler cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between you and your father, as he swiftly downed the remnants of the drink in his glass.

It was an understatement to say that Sanji was infuriated. He was unaware of what led to the man's outburst, but the enchanting smile you had a second ago had been replaced by a much darker expression - a look he certainly did not like to see on a woman like yourself.

Discerning that you preferred not to be surrounded by those people sitting with you was easy for him to figure out. Were it not for his imperative task at hand, he would have acted as a knight clad in shiny armor, whisking you away from the callousness that blatantly depleted your spirit and caused you to have a strong yearning to shed tears.

A lady crying was a spectacle that Sanji couldn’t handle, not without feeling like he wanted to kick the one responsible for it.

For the remainder of the night, he continued to provide service to the arriving patrons and was repeatedly sent out of the kitchen by Zeff whenever he dared touching the stove again. For some reason, he couldn't get your lovely face, appearing completely distraught because of some imbecile's disrespectful treatment, out of his thoughts.

When he returned to your table to take a new order from the dessert menu, he noticed that your seat was now empty. Your mother had blurted out something about you taking too long in the restroom, presumably fixing your makeup that had started to deteriorate and ruin your appearance.

Sanji immediately recognized the mocking tone in her voice. As he returned to the kitchen to deliver the requested selection of sweets, a strange somberness settled in the core of his stomach.

Later, when he came back to the dining hall with the baked treats on a silvery tray, you were still absent.

You didn't even know how much time had passed since you hurried to the restroom. The urge to escape and be alone was strong, so you gave yourself a moment to cool off and fix your makeup as best as you could.

Right now, you looked like a complete mess. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, smudging bits of mascara beneath your reddening eyes. Your reflection revealed someone who was miserable, fragile, and hopeless, much like your younger self that you could still vividly see curled up in a corner of your room.

You were anticipating this night to wrap up in a couple of hours, but your parents weren’t showing any concern regarding how late it was getting now. Even though you tried your hardest to keep it together, it became increasingly challenging with each passing second. Your breathing became labored, your heart raced at an unimaginable pace that made you think it might shoot out of your chest, and your whole body started trembling like a quivering branch.

You anxiously wiped away the tears from your face, removed the smudged makeup from your skin, and took deep breaths to calm your racing pulse. As soon as you managed to regain control of your emotions and appear presentable again, you used your nails to comb through your hair, adjusted your dress, and proceeded to push open the door.

You stood frozen and paralyzed in front of the dining hall, watching as the others carried on with their meaningless chatter, seemingly oblivious to your state of mind.

But the harsh reality was that in truth, they didn't even care.

Your ears started to buzz and your surroundings turned into a muffled murmur, as if you were submerged underwater. Your hands tightly gripped your handbag, holding onto it with sheer desperation.

“…dam. Madam? Is everything all right?”

You quickly composed yourself when you heard someone speaking to you. The second you swivelled your head, you saw Sanji the waiter looking at you with a furrowed expression, his hands tucked into his pockets.

For some reason, his blue-ish eyes seemed to have a grounding effect, causing the ringing noise in your ears to immediatly fade away.

When your nerves became more solid and allowed you to feel stable enough, you gave him a response. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

Judging by the way he slightly inclined his head to watch you, it was quite clear that you didn't sound very believable. You could have continued telling lies, even to yourself, returning to your seat and feigning like nothing had ever happened. But there was a certain attribute in him that urged you to let it all go, to stop pretending to be someone you were not, at least for one night.

In the end, a sad chuckle escaped you as you massaged your forehead in defeat. "Actually, no. I don’t think I am.”

"Can I offer you something sweet to bring back your beautiful smile?”

A slight tinge of red spread across your cheeks, causing you to cast another glance at your table from afar.

“Actually, I think I might need a drink now,” you clarified. “A strong one. And no, I don’t really like wine at all.”

A mischievous smile stretched across Sanji's face in response to your comment. "Tell you what, the restaurant has a bar outside. Would you mind if I joined you?" He asked.

You eyed him in bewilderment. “Aren’t you working?”

“I’m on my break,” he said. “And my shift is almost over.”

You pondered the proposal, peering at the dining table one last time to weigh out the undesirable repercussions. Vanishing with the Baratie's waiter would likely escalate your father's anger, and enduring a prolonged argument on the boat later was not an appealing prospect for you. Nevertheless, the more you felt Sanji's focus on you, the stronger your desire became to escape with him for the remainder of your stay. Returning to your seat didn't constitute an option you wanted to choose.

As you pushed your hair away and behind your ear, you issued a resolute nod to him. “Screw it. Let’s go.”

Sneaking out of the restaurant without being noticed by your family was less arduous than you thought it would be. They were engrossed in their continuous conversation, never lifting their heads or paying attention to the movements around them. Sanji softly grazed your back as he accompanied you, his palm making only slight contact against your skin. You relished the pleasant sensation of the heavy ring he sported on his middle right digit, feeling the coldness of the metal in contrast with the warmth of his touch.

Once you reached the mouth of the fish at the end of the ship, the energetic music coming from the speakers immediately captivated you. Patrons were stationed on the sofas with large colorful beverages placed on their laps, some engaged in dancing inebriatedly before the bar. As Sanji retrieved two vacant stools from a corner, he politely offered you one. You couldn't help but yearn for his electric touch again the moment his hand left you.

While you ordered a full tumbler of cocktail, Sanji opted for only a small glass of liquor. It was fine with you, as he needed to remain sober for the purpose of continuing his job later. You gently took small sips of the beverage using the straw, feeling the strong liquid burning down your throat. He took out a lighter from his pocket, idly toying with it while you sat in silence, transfixed by his flawless hands.

Your heart thumped harder as he turned to face you, his broad smile permanently etched on his perfect face. "I hope you don't mind me asking, Madam, but what brings a woman like you together with a man like that?”

You chuckled at his inquiry, amused by how effortlessly he recognized that Christopher was not the lifelong partner you had chosen for yourself.

"Do you ever feel like you're stuck, unable to move forward with your life?” You asked him.

Sanji's eyes appeared to shine when he heard your words. He glanced downwards, and you could see the hesitation tugging at the corners of his mouth. “More than I want to admit.”

You rotated ever so slightly on the stool to orient your face more directly toward him. “You don’t want to work here?”

"It's complicated, sweetheart.”

Downing more of your drink, you gave him an agreeing nod. "I guess that’s just how life works for some of us.”

Sanji stayed silent, but he continued to gaze at you as if you were an incomparable treasure.

His handsome features seemed to shine under the dim lights of the bar, even more brightly than you could have thought possible. You were almost tempted to brush aside those golden locks that covered his left eye, but you had to scold yourself for developing a similar attraction for someone you knew nothing about, and who naturally exuded a flirtatious attitude.

Maybe that drink was already starting to affect your lucidity.

As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?"

He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?"

You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Using the straw to casually swirl the ice cubes in your drink, you observed the ripples that formed within the cocktail.

"A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream, 'till the current ends, dips his wing in the orange sun rays, and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage. His wings are clipped and his feet are tied, so he opens his throat to sing."

Sanji appeared slightly puzzled, but he also paid close attention, listening intently.

“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown, but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.”

When you assessed his reaction, Sanji's beaming expression turned into the most delightful toothy grin you had ever witnessed. “Is that a poem?”

You nodded. “One of my favorites.”

He looked away, steadily flicking his lighter on and off in a continuous flow of motion. "The bird sings because it wants to be set free.”

“Yes.”

This time, Sanji took out a white cigarette from a flat box, lit it, and held it between his middle and index fingers. He inhaled the nicotine before exhaling a puff of smoke, making sure not to blow it on you.

For some reason, you found even those actions to be seductive.

"I'm not a waiter, you know," he declared.

You snapped out of your daze. "What?”

"I'm a cook,” he explained, exhaling another puff of smoke. “The best one in all the East Blue.”

Confusion flickered in your eyes for a moment. "You're the chef in charge?”

“Ah, no. The old man is. The shitbag doesn’t appreciate my creative choices in the kitchen.”

You shrugged your shoulders. "Some imagination while cooking is always nice.”

“You should tell him that. You liked the rice, didn’t you?”

Your mind went blank as soon as you thought of that delectable bowl of rice. You looked at Sanji with awe, your eyes widening as the truth suddenly dawned upon you. “You made it?”

Sanji had an air of pride, laughing at your reaction and taking another deep drag from his cigarette.

"Whoa, okay. My mind is blown right now. That was seriously the be-"

"The best thing you've ever tasted?" He interrupted you, looking into your eyes with contentment. “I know.”

In a cheerful tone, you inquired, “Did you hear that?”

"I told you. I'm the best cook in the East Blue,” he replied. “But yes. I might have heard you.”

Sanji winked at you once again, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at yourself as your knees weakened at such a simple gesture.

"Okay, hat off. It was delicious. Thank you for that.”

Without noticing, you had unknowingly gotten closer to his body, nearly touching his upper leg with yours. Sanji didn't seem to mind, as he continued to look at you without interruption.

A little tipsy from the drink, you leaned your elbow on the countertop, resting your head against the side of your palm. “Do you do this often?”

He maintained his smile. “Do what, Madam?”

“Flirt with your customers.”

"Only with the most beautiful ones.”

You licked your lower lip, feeling the heat spreading across your cheeks. “Do you think I’m beautiful?”

"Oh, trust me, Madam. Your beauty is blinding me.”

You leaned forward, lowering your voice to a whisper. "Y/N, please, I prefer simple things.”

You spoke with a slightly more mischievous tone than you had intended, yet you were unable to acknowledge any feelings of embarrassment as he got closer.

Sanji turned his face away without saying anything, proceeding to put out his cigarette and allowing his gaze to survey your body. You allowed him, granting permission for your heart to perform a series of somersaults inside your chest. It felt as though he was consuming you with his eyes alone, yet simultaneously, there was a very gentle aspect within those seemingly ravenous actions of his.

And just when you anticipated his lips to come closer to yours, his grin vanished. "I apologize for intruding, but is there anything I can assist you with?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to grasp the precise meaning of his words amidst your hazy state. “Assist me?”

“Do you need help?”

And when you finally grasped it, you let out a brief sigh and closed your eyes. Moving your head away from your palm, you let your arm rest against the counter, with your hand inadvertently placed next to his.

"That's nice of you to ask, but no. Everything's good, really.”

"It didn't seem like it was.”

Sanji looked deeply serious, his kind-heartedness now evident. Your lips, slightly damp and chilled from the fresh cocktail, regained their smile. You gently brushed your fingertips over his black tie, sliding them around the knot.

Sanji seemed to swallow, taken aback by your unexpected gesture.

"Just like you said earlier, it's complicated.”

In the midst of the moment, he stretched out his fingers, letting them come in touch with your wrist on the bar counter. Nonetheless, the contact was tender, exhibiting no signs of pressure or ulterior motives. "I just don't see how anybody could clip the wings of such a lovely bird.”

Upon hearing those words, you had to summon all of your inner strength to suppress a new rush of tears that threatened to form. “Some birds are just not meant to fly.”

The anguish in your voice resonated deeply within him, and you could perceive a barely noticeable head shake of protest. But before he could refute your words, both of you were interrupted by the unmistakable voice of someone you knew, filled with anger and disappointment.

"Ah, so you've been here all this time.”

As you turned, your eyes landed on Christopher, who stood before you with a disgruntled expression. In a swift motion, you pulled your hands away from Sanji and straightened your posture.

"I just needed a drink," you said firmly, maintaining your position against the counter.

"Oh yeah? It looks like you needed more than just a drink," he retorted, casting a disdainful glance at Sanji.

"What is this dandy asshole doing with you?" he asked angrily.

Sanji tightly pressed his lips together, rose from his chair, and flashed Chris a significant, sarcastic grin. "How long did it take you to find her, sir?"

Christopher's complexion grew redder with each passing second as his anger escalated, causing you to audibly sigh in annoyance. In an attempt to calm him down, you reached out and touched his shoulder. "Can you let him be? He was just being polite. There's no need to create a scene," you pleaded, hoping to diffuse the situation.

"Well, it's not like you were drawing a line, were you? You seemed quite eager to jump into his pants like a damn whore," Christopher said, his tone filled with jealousy.

Before you had a chance to offer a proper rebuttal, Sanji stepped in front of you. "Do not speak of her that way."

Sanji's intervention only served to further fuel Christopher's rage, but a mix of emotions surged within you. Your heart raced and butterflies fluttered in your stomach, unaccustomed to such a protective act.

"I can speak of her however I want, she's my fiancée! Don't you have work to do, shithead?" Christopher spat, getting dangerously close to Sanji's nose in an attempt to intimidate him.

Despite Sanji's composed demeanor, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers and his unwavering stare locked with his opponent's, you reached out and gently touched his back.

You moved forward to show your support and alleviate the growing tension. "You got it all wrong, Chris. Just let it go," you uttered. “Fights are against the restaurant’s policy, don’t make a fool out of yourself.”

From your peripheral vision, you could see that Sanji had turned his focus back to you. He displayed a clear sense of awe at your respect for their regulations.

Chris's breathing was filled with agitation and hatred. Despite this, he managed to compose himself, straighten the collar of his jacket, and scoff in Sanji's face. "Fine, but this conversation isn't over, Y/N."

When Chris turned away to leave, you noticed your parents seated on one of the large sofas in the lounge area, alongside Admiral Wheeler. While the admiral immersed himself in the music and bobbed his head to the rhythm, your parents sent piercing glares your way, filled with clear disapproval.

Anticipating what was about to unfold, you couldn't help but let out a final sigh of resignation. You refocused your eyes on Sanji, who maintained a quiet silence, examining your face with a slight upward curl of his lips.

“Thank you," you expressed, infusing your words with genuine gratitude and sincerity.

Sanji's lips stretched into another sweet, full smile, watching you pivot on your heels and approach your family. From his perspective, you looked like a victim walking to the scaffold, about to face your inevitable execution.

Go to Chapter 2 ->

#one piece liveaction #opla sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji x reader #story: why the caged bird sings