#[bronzed; royalty]
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Many years ago J. Michael Straczynski wrote a miniseries for Marvel's MAX imprint called Supreme Power, which was itself a spin on the classic Marvel Faux Justice League The Squadron Supreme. And in this miniseries you've got a Flash Expy, The Blur, who in a very compelling way is like the inverse of A-train from The Boys. They're both black speedsters from impoverished backgrounds who use their powers to become walking billboards instead of going directly into conventional superheroism- at least in part because there isn't actually a lot of call for conventional superheroism. They even share a color scheme.
But unlike A-Train, whose moral core is thoroughly corroded by celebrity, Blur's apparent crass commercialism ends up being thematically linked to the fact that he's easily the most moral and considerate of the entire first wave of superheroes, because he's literally the only one of these people who's ever had to work any kind of day job, and thus the only one who's really in any way beholden to the logic of human society and its associated common courtesy.
#the other superhumans falling on the spectrum from “I am inherently better than you and know better than you”#to “I am literally bronze-age royalty and will kill you if you look at me funny”#to “feral fish woman who was never actually socialized”#to “billionaire”#Anyway there were some eyebrow raising moments surrounding Blur in that series#but I've always enjoyed the implication that the fact he's doing it for money is what keeps him comparatively grounded#even if it also makes him quite vulnerable to ratfucking when he won't toe the govt. line#that being the other thing- he takes the endorsements in large part because he's in a holding pattern waiting for some situation to arise#that actually meaningfully requires a superhero to resolve#thoughts#meta#supreme power#superheroes#the boys
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WILLIAM & LUCY ♡
The Prince of Wales chats with Lucy Bronze as he visits the Lionesses to wish them luck ahead of the 2023 FIFA Women's World Cup at St Georges Park | 20 JUNE 2023
@duchessbitch
#prince of wales#prince william#william wales#my edit#the prince of wales#british royal family#brf#british royals#kate middleton#royalty#duchess of cambridge#royals#british royalty#catherine middleton#royal#lucy bronze#lionesses sgp june 23#20062p23#lionesses
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Two sculptures on the Victoria Memorial outside Buckingham Palace
The one on the left of the photograph with the lion (!) is the Manufacturer and the one on the right is Art and Science
#London#Buckingham Palace#royalty#lion#sculptures#manufacturer#art and science#bronze#history#statues#Victoria#memorial#England#UK
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Gilt Bronze sculpture of a Nepalese monarch in prayer, 18th century
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marriage is a prospect rhea did not consider she would entangle herself with. not so soon, anyway. not to a prince, at least.
if she were being completely honest — she would have no idea why the prince daemon would ever genuinely consider her as a candidate. to the matriarch ? rhea would've understood. she was a lady of noble-birth. a good standing, a good education, and a remarkable history that would reflect well upon the royal family should she marry into it. but what little she knew of the prince, she had known immediately that she would perhaps be the last in the room for him to consider as a potential partner. it's what she told her lord father, and it's what she insisted when her younger sister would giggle and shrill. and yet— on her ring finger, she wears her husband's family's ring.
she feels a ghost of a touch treading through her fingers now. rhea's eyes slithered away from the marble statue she's been observing to take in the sight of her husband: pale hair and green eyes. an intense smile that she understood why the whole of westeros would call handsome ( though have they seen them crinkle when he laughs ? that was much better sight ), and rhea smiles. shy, even after years of courting, before her eyes flit to see his larger hands entangle with hers so easily.
❝ my apologies, ❞ she says softly, squeezing their hands. marbling; awed that she's allowed this, at all. ❝ ... am i taking too long ? would you like to leave ? ❞
for @the-rogue-dragon <3
#theroguedragon#the way she's shy even after years? yes.#shes surprised everytime she remembers shes married ok#BRONZE BITCH: INTERACTIONS.#VERSE: MODERN ROYALTY AU.
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god i can’t get bloodswap dreamstuck out of my head. almost makes me wish i’d written everyone in different blood colours but like i love it the way it is and i wouldn’t give up my stupid homestuck au for the world. i just wanna shove everyone in different places on the chess board and fuck around and find out and have it not b canon to the fic
#like i’m rotating it in my mind soooo much#it helps me kinda examine the characters under different lenses tho#like what if puffy was the powerful psionic and jack was the runaway jade in hiding#what if foolish was seadwelling royalty and eret was the to-be-culled limeblood#sapnap as the clown cultist kid and kahrrl as a concerned bronze trying to survive#i’m reaaaaaaally thinkin about these swaps fr fr#ds bloodswap#dreamstuck
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I get variations on this comment on my post about history misinformation all the time: "why does it matter?" Why does it matter that people believe falsehoods about history? Why does it matter if people spread history misinformation? Why does it matter if people on tumblr believe that those bronze dodecahedra were used for knitting, or that Persephone had a daughter named Mespyrian? It's not the kind of misinformation that actually hurts people, like anti-vaxx propaganda or climate change denial. It doesn't hurt anyone to believe something false about the past.
Which, one, thanks for letting me know on my post that you think my job doesn't matter and what I do is pointless, if it doesn't really matter if we know the truth or make up lies about history because lies don't hurt anyone. But two, there are lots of reasons that it matters.
It encourages us to distrust historians when they talk about other aspects of history. You might think it's harmless to believe that Pharaoh Hatshepsut was trans. It's less harmless when you're espousing that the Holocaust wasn't really about Jews because the Nazis "came for trans people first." You might think it's harmless to believe that the French royalty of Versailles pooped and urinated on the floor of the palace all the time, because they were asshole rich people anyway, who cares, we hate the rich here; it's rather less harmless when you decide that the USSR was the communist ideal and Good, Actually, and that reports of its genocidal oppression are actually lies.
It encourages anti-intellectualism in other areas of scholarship. Deciding based on your own gut that the experts don't know what they're talking about and are either too stupid to realize the truth, or maliciously hiding the truth, is how you get to anti-vaxxers and climate change denial. It is also how you come to discount housing-first solutions for homelessness or the idea that long-term sustained weight loss is both biologically unlikely and health-wise unnecessary for the majority of fat people - because they conflict with what you feel should be true. Believing what you want to be true about history, because you want to believe it, and discounting fact-based corrections because you don't want them to be true, can then bleed over into how you approach other sociological and scientific topics.
How we think about history informs how we think about the present. A lot of people want certain things to be true - this famous person from history was gay or trans, this sexist story was actually feminist in its origin - because we want proof that gay people, trans people, and women deserve to be respected, and this gives evidence to prove we once were and deserve to be. But let me tell you a different story: on Thanksgiving of 2016, I was at a family friend's house and listening to their drunk conservative relative rant, and he told me, confidently, that the Roman Empire fell because they instituted universal healthcare, which was proof that Obama was destroying America. Of course that's nonsense. But projecting what we think is true about the world back onto history, and then using that as recursive proof that that is how the world is... is shoddy scholarship, and gets used for topics you don't agree with just as much as the ones you do. We should not be encouraging this, because our politics should be informed by the truth and material reality, not how we wish the past proved us right.
It frequently reinforces "Good vs. Bad" dichotomies that are at best unhelpful and at worst victim-blaming. A very common thread of historical misinformation on tumblr is about the innocence or benevolence of oppressed groups, slandered by oppressors who were far worse. This very frequently has truth to it - but makes the lies hard to separate out. It often simplifies the narrative, and implies that the reason that colonialism and oppression were bad was because the victims were Good and didn't deserve it... not because colonialism and oppression are bad. You see this sometimes with radical feminist mother goddess Neolithic feminist utopia stuff, but you also see it a lot regarding Native American and African history. I have seen people earnestly argue that Aztecs did not practice human sacrifice, that that was a lie made up by the Spanish to slander them. That is not true. Human sacrifice was part of Aztec, Maya, and many Central American war/religious practices. They are significantly more complex than often presented, and came from a captive-based system of warfare that significantly reduced the number of people who got killed in war compared to European styles of war that primarily killed people on the battlefield rather than taking them captive for sacrifice... but the human sacrifice was real and did happen. This can often come off with the implications of a 'noble savage' or an 'innocent victim' that implies that the bad things the Spanish conquistadors did were bad because the victims were innocent or good. This is a very easy trap to fall into; if the victims were good, they didn't deserve it. Right? This logic is dangerous when you are presented with a person or group who did something bad... you're caught in a bind. Did they deserve their injustice or oppression because they did something bad? This kind of logic drives a lot of transphobia, homophobia, racism, and defenses of Kyle Rittenhouse today. The answer to a colonialist logic of "The Aztecs deserved to be conquered because they did human sacrifice and that's bad" is not "The Aztecs didn't do human sacrifice actually, that's just Spanish propaganda" (which is a lie) it should be "We Americans do human sacrifice all the god damn time with our forever wars in the Middle East, we just don't call it that. We use bullets and bombs rather than obsidian knives but we kill way, way more people in the name of our country. What does that make us? Maybe genocide is not okay regardless of if you think the people are weird and scary." It becomes hard to square your ethics of the Innocent Victim and Lying Perpetrator when you see real, complicated, individual-level and group-level interactions, where no group is made up of members who are all completely pure and good, and they don't deserve to be oppressed anyway.
It makes you an unwitting tool of the oppressor. The favorite, favorite allegation transphobes level at trans people, and conservatives at queer people, is that we're lying to push the Gay Agenda. We're liars or deluded fools. If you say something about queer or trans history that's easy to debunk as false, you have permanently hurt your credibility - and the cause of queer history. It makes you easy to write off as a liar or a deluded fool who needs misinformation to make your case. If you say Louisa May Alcott was trans, that's easy to counter with "there is literally no evidence of that, and lots of evidence that she was fine being a woman," and instantly tanks your credibility going forward, so when you then say James Barry was trans and push back against a novel or biopic that treats James Barry as a woman, you get "you don't know what you're talking about, didn't you say Louisa May Alcott was trans too?" TERFs love to call trans people liars - do not hand them ammunition, not even a single bullet. Make sure you can back up what you say with facts and evidence. This is true of homophobes, of racists, of sexists. Be confident of your facts, and have facts to give to the hopeful and questioning learners who you are relating this story to, or the bigots who you are telling off, because misinformation can only hurt you and your cause.
It makes the queer, female, POC, or other marginalized listeners hurt, sad, and betrayed when something they thought was a reflection of their own experiences turns out not to be real. This is a good response to a performance art piece purporting to tell a real story of gay WWI soldiers, until the author revealed it as fiction. Why would you want to set yourself up for disappointment like that? Why would you want to risk inflicting that disappointment and betrayal on anyone else?
It makes it harder to learn the actual truth.
Historical misinformation has consequences, and those consequences are best avoided - by checking your facts, citing your sources, and taking the time and effort to make sure you are actually telling the truth.
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KING BRONZE 👑
Peanut Butter man as @eclipsaarmy likes to call him. King of peanut butter.
BONUS:
What’s going on here coquette Terrence? Who you dressing up for? Got my eye on you…
Kinda seeing someone?
Well it’s probably just a situationship. I think he wants to keep it on the DL because he’s royalty.
I’ll probably announce it after the weekend.
#cinderella boy#situationship#royalty#bronze#king#jealous of an oven mitt#punko#webtoon#cinderellaboy#cinderella boy webtoon
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the Special | Sanji x reader
a/n - my first One Piece fic. absolutely terrifying but definitely a needed change of scenario to get out of my writing block. please be kind; I'm taking all my inspo from the live-action as that is what I am currently the most familiar with. but, well, we just have to see how it goes. bon appetite
Shoutout to my dear @mydearzero for encouraging my newfound obsession with this show and this character, as well as generally encouraging me to write. this is all your fault. And to everyone else who had been expecting me to finally post one of the other million fics I had promised... I'm sorry
And kind reminder that reblogs is what makes tumblr work. Please, if you enjoyed the story, reblog
word count: 9.9k
warning: 18+ only. MDNI. smut. piv sex. oral sex (f!receiving). unprotected sex [wrap up your eggplants yall]. semi-public sex. several FDA regulation code breaks, probably. afab reader. swearing. little bit of angst. shitty and fat-shaming [oc!]boyfriend/date. fist fight. alcohol consumption.
“Look at your waiter's face. He knows. It's another reason to be polite to your waiter; he could save your life with a raised eyebrow or a sigh.”
― Anthony Bourdain,
The first thing you saw was the red, bright sign spelling out the restaurant's name.
Baratie. You had no clue what it meant but could only hope that “the best restaurant in the East Blue” was somewhere down the list of its definitions, especially after the months that they had kept you on the waiting list and the tumultuous trip that it took to sail there. Next, as your ship approached, you saw the… fish head. The sight of the sculpture at the front of the ship structure buried some worry in the pit of your stomach, but surely, if so many people had given it such fond reviews, the exterior was not to speak for what awaited you inside.
‘Believe me, baby, you’ll love it here.’
‘I really hope so,’ you smiled as you got off your boat. Your legs shook at the knee as you stepped onto the sturdy dock planks. Days at sea, which had never been your friend, had clearly done more damage than you expected. You would have been on the floor if it wasn’t for the pair of arms holding on to you.
‘Thanks, Chosi,’ you said towards your boyfriend as he helped you steadily get back onto your feet.
‘Can’t have you faceplant the second we get here,’ he brushed some invisible dust off your shoulder, and with his arm entwined with yours, he led you to the entrance of the establishment. You grabbed at the skirt of your dress to keep it down as the wind blew by.
As you walked, you looked at all the other ships harboured on the… was this an island? Was the entirety just one large ship? Was it anchored to something then, or was it drifting around the seas constantly? You couldn’t quite comprehend the logistics of it all. But you could tell that humans and other creatures of all walks of life–royalty, commoners, marines, pirates—were unbothered by each other's presence and enjoying the outing. Once inside, the shushed sound of the waves was exchanged for a whisper of swing music, as well as the chatter of the restaurant’s patrons and the clinking of their cutlery on plates. The walls were lined in crimson wallpaper as well as painted depictions of sea battles, accented in gold and bronze details matching the furniture placed spaciously around the room and the two stories above it that lead the eye to a beautiful aquamarine ceiling that gave the illusion as if one was looking up at the bright sky from underwater.
The maitre’d, a Fishman, stood to attention at your entrance.
‘Good afternoon, how may I help you?’ he asked kindly.
‘We have a reservation. Name is Chosi,’ Chosi stated with his head held high. Despite you doubting that anyone knew his name in these parts of the world, he never ceased to pronounce it with a level of expectation to it. It was commendable, as well as disappointing, when nothing happened afterwards. The maitre’d simply nodded and glanced down at his long list of names, searching for the one he had just heard, ready to cross it off.
‘Ah, yes, right here. Please, do follow me to your table.’ And so, you did just that, walking down the grand staircase onto the restaurant's main floor, where you seated at one of the smaller tables, perfect for a romantic dinner for two. ‘Your waiter will be right with you.’ The Fishman bid you farewell just like that and returned to his position at the door.
‘So?’ Chosi looked at you with a raised brow as you looked around.
‘It is quite stunning.’ You must admit that you did not expect this kind of splendour when looking at the carved fish that gaped at you outside. Something about that just did not exude the same essence as the timeless and classy beauty of the interior. You barely even felt the shake of the waves beneath you.
Maybe your response wasn’t sufficient, for Chosi had opened his mouth to respond, something in the angles of his face announcing displeasure, but he was interrupted by a new presence at your table. You looked up at the tall figure towering over you.
‘Welcome,’ the man spoke, his accent clearly indicating his origin if only you had been aware of where that was. Simultaneously, he put down a plate of bread rolls, perfectly and meticulously positioned atop it. ��...to Baratie. My name is Sanji; I will be your waiter this afternoon.’
‘Took you long enough.’ Chosi mumbled under his breath, giving you an immense urge to kick him underneath the table, but you knew better than to do that, especially when he did not seem to be ready to stop any time soon. ‘Trying to convince my girl this place is worth visiting, heh.’ You could feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the waiter—Sanji, he said was his name—did not seem to give the comment much thought as he looked down at you with a curve to his thin-lined lips.
‘My apologies, madame; I hope my service will not give you the false impression of this establishment being worth any of your precious time.’ The smoothness of his voice almost concealed the true meaning behind his speech, leaving you, as well as your date, speechless. However, you felt your speaking ability to be taken away by more than just his words as you spared a second to take your waiter in properly. You just could not help but notice how his suit wrapped around his arms, and although one was covered by his blonde hair, his eyes had a glint of something that excited you despite not even knowing the root of that excitement.
Like nothing had happened, Sanji continued, ‘Would you care to see the menu? Hear the specials?’ That is when you noticed the menu cards he was holding in his hand. And he must have been ready to list the special items, but Chosi was a step ahead.
‘Actually, I think we are ready to order.’ That was the first you had heard of it, but you stayed put as he continued. After all, Chosi had eaten here before. He knew what was good, and you could trust his judgement.
‘Prime rib, medium rare,’ as your boyfriend spoke, you kept your eye on the waiter, noticing the appearance of the smallest of flinches in his face at the sound of the dish, but never faltering his picture-perfect appearance, ‘and my lady will have the salad.’
Another twitch, right below his visible eyes, followed, but Sanji’s professional facade stayed on as he inquired: ‘We offer quite a variety of salads; which would madame prefer?’ And with that, he turned to you, that smile plastered on like a sticker, but he had trouble keeping it on as the answer to his question did not come from your mouth.
‘Whichever is the best, of course.’ Chosi rolled his eyes, and you wished you could do so as well. The waiter glanced between you and him, turning back to you momentarily. Long enough for you to give him a reassuring smile. It would be in everyone’s best interest if he just moved on from the matter.
‘Drinks, then,’ Sanji again spoke with an unphased essence about him, as if nothing from the past few minutes had ever occurred, or at least tried to emulate this. ‘Madam, anything I can get you?’ The way he emphasised that word didn’t require any pointed glares.
‘Uhm,’ you hesitated as he kept his full attention on you, completely ignoring the man sitting opposite you at the table, making Chosi stare at you just as, if not more, intensely, for all the opposite reasons. Out of panic, you just blurted out the most straightforward order. ‘Just water, thank you.’ It being the first words you said in the waiter's presence, they came out soft. Nothing like your regular voice, which startled you slightly.
‘Still, sparkling or mineral?’ Sanji pursued.
‘Still please,’ you smiled shyly, unsure where that actual shyness derived from.
‘Ice? Cubed or crushed?’ He fired the questions at a rapid pace.
‘A bit of ice is fine. Thank you,’ you repeated yourself, looking down at the table and letting the waiter move on to the rest of the order. He didn’t say anything else but looked at Chosi with anticipation.
‘I’ll have your finest brew.’
‘Coming up,’ his voice had a sudden coldness to it as he walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving the table to a thick silence.
‘I could have ordered for myself, you know,’ you said, with that same soft tone you had spoken with earlier, although this felt much more familiar seeing who you talked to.
‘And have you stuff yourself with some useless carbs? C’mon, you know I’m just looking out for you, here.’
‘I know.’ You straightened out a fork in front of you, suddenly feeling uneasy at how far away from the plate it was positioned compared to the knife on the opposite side. You were straightening out a crease in the tablecloth when Sanji returned with a silver tray in one hand. He placed the pint glass full of golden brew in front of Chosi before turning your way and setting a glass beside your plate. With a pair of tongs, one by one, he let ice cubes fall to the bottom of it, the clinking against the glass almost deafening. Then, he followed up with another pair of tongs and reached for a little tray but stopped himself to ask you: ‘Care for a slice of lemon, madame?’
‘Oh, uhm, sure,’ you shrugged, unable to look away. This process of pouring a glass of water felt rather extensive, but you could not deny the fact you were enjoying it all. As he grabbed the large pitcher to pour the water, you were unsure how he had carried all of these items with one hand and did so seemingly effortlessly.
‘There we go,’ he smiled, ‘your food will be with you shortly, but do let me know if you require anything else.’ And just like that, he was gone again, but not without leaving you feeling that he had meant his parting words especially for you and that that sentiment had undoubtedly not escaped your date.
‘I don’t like the look of that guy.’ Chosi glared at you as he took a sip from his pint, slurping up the top layer of foam with it.
‘I think he’s quite sweet.’ You straightened out the fork again and reached for a bread roll to tear it apart piece by piece.
‘Of course you would,’ he rolled his eyes, which made you look up from your little snack.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ You put the bread roll down as the pit in your stomach hollowed out your appetite. Right, making space for that damn salad.
‘Nothing.’ Chosi shrugged, ‘Just that it's typical that somehow I’m the only one to notice when some guy is trying to cop a feel.’
‘He was doing no such thing.’ You had to bite your tongue not to raise your voice as his insinuation, despite being on the waiter's actions, seemed to be brutally judging yourself. ‘The poor guy is just doing his job. I’m not bothered by it, and neither should you be.’ Usually, you would attach some sweet nickname at the end of that sentence, but this was one too many times you had said a variant of the confirmation, and you were growing tired of just the thought of it.
Somewhere in the distance, a table erupted into a shouting match that had to be broken up by a handful of waiters. While usually, you turned away from such brutalities, never having been fond of violence and not particularly having a necessity in seeing people getting their teeth punched out minutes before eating a meal, this time you stretched your neck out to glance across the room, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of the white-blonde hair among the rousing heads. Someone had pulled a pistol, but the weapon was kicked out of the man's grip before they could shoot or even alarm people enough to hide beneath their tables. Just like that, the restaurant resumed its normal state of pleasantries, and you got back to your abysmal date and hoped it was still worth saving… or that saving was still even an option to begin with.
‘From what you had told me about the place, Chi, it is much grander than I had expected.’ You smiled, and he nodded to your affirmations.
‘Well, I didn’t want to raise the expectations too high, but you know I don’t do anything but the best for you, sweet cheeks.’
‘Of course—’ you were interrupted by the footsteps nearing your table, and the weight nearly lifted off your shoulders at the sight of Sanji carrying too large plates.
‘Hello there,’ he grinned slyly, ‘hope I don’t interrupt anythin’.’
‘Not at all,’ You moved your glass aside to make space for your dish, but Sanji put Chosi’s plate down first, announcing the food.
‘Prime rib, medium rare, for the gentleman.’ Like everything else, he precisely placed it so the gold details on the plate faced the diner exactly right. The roast glistened in the restaurant's dim light, and the smell hit you right at the nerves that reminded you of your hunger. But that was for the gentleman, and the gentleman had ordered for you the—
‘And for the madame,’ Sanji put a plate in front of you, ‘what I like to call the Sanji Special.’
You looked down at your plate of food with a stunned expression and then looked back up. Just in time, you caught the slight wink that your waiter had sent you before stepping back to then, with a nod, say, ‘Bon appetite.’
He got to take about three steps and had just turned his back towards your table when Chosi called out to him, clearing his throat. ‘Ehem, excuse me, Sonny.’
‘Is there a problem?’ Sanji returned with his hands behind his back, but you didn’t need to see his fists to know he was clenching them. It was all visible in the strain of his upper arms and jaw as he restrained himself to keep up a polite smile.
‘I am pretty sure we had ordered a salad?’ Chosi tried to play it off with a casual laugh, but it turned out to be anything but. Sanji leaned forward to grab the plate, but then your boyfriend exclaimed, ‘No, not for me; for her.’ before the waiter got his hand on his prime rib.
With a satisfied smile, Sanji glanced at your plate and stated: ‘That is a salad.’
Not that you did not appreciate what was in front of you, but if it was a salad, it was the loosest interpretation of the definition possible. You had to keep your laugh in as he explained that the dish was a “twist on kensui salad with steamed components, egg, and pork” or, in your simpler terms… the most delicious-looking pot of ramen you had ever encountered in your life, but no, definitely not a salad in the traditional sense. You smiled at the food, not daring to look up at Sanji while your boyfriend’s head seemed to be boiling alive, but the waiter was a step ahead of you.
‘Ah, almost forgot, for the lady,’ almost out of nowhere, he made a pair of chopsticks appear for you.
‘She will not be eating that,’ Chosi grunted.
‘I think that is for her to decide,’ Sanji didn’t even bother to look at him, keeping his sweet smile on you, which, in turn, rushed a hot flush over your cheeks.
‘Chosi, don’t be like that; this looks delicious.’ You spoke, hoping he would calm down and let you finally sink your teeth into this gorgeous meal. After a tense second, Chosi finally huffed out and sank back down in his chair, making you realise he had been on the verge of getting up for whatever reason. Either way, his intentions could not have been good. In the meantime, Sanji excused himself once more to finally leave you to eat.
You had perhaps taken half a bite when Chosi, his food untouched, spoke up again. ‘Why do you always do this?’
‘Do what?’ your throat tightened around the pork you had just swallowed.
‘Embarrass me like that?’ He sighed, a vein in his forehead looking more prominent than ever.
‘I didn’t—’
‘Cut the shit, you know what you’re doing.’ Chosi slammed his fist on the table, startling you and the few people sitting at the nearest tables to you.
‘Please, can we not do this now,’ you kept your head down, ignoring all the pairs of eyes that must have started catching on to what was happening. Chosi had turned red from anger by that point.
‘What, am I being too much for you? Imagine what it’s like going out with a slut—’
‘Chosi!’ you snapped, immediately covering your face with your hand as if you had not meant to shout and grab the attention of even more people.
Deep breath in.
Out.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You hissed at the man across the table from you.
‘With me? You’re the one that has been eyefucking the waiter this whole time, and now you disrespected me like that in front of him? Do I mean so little to you?’
‘I did no such thing.’ You rolled your eyes, catching glimpses of the room you were in. The people that sat around, the employees. Of course, Sanji stood only a few tables away, taking an order. Could he hear what was happening? Most likely, the idea of that burned you in a new, much more unpleasant manner. Chosi must have said something, but you had been too occupied by your surroundings and too tired to even listen to what other vile things he had to tell you. The only thing that kept you at that table was the food, but no matter how good, it wasn’t worth enduring him. ‘You know what,’ you grabbed your napkin and slapped it onto the table, ‘I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the boat.’ The chair shrieked as you shoved it back.
‘Where the hell do you think you’re going,’ Chosi growled practically, and despite you having already turned your back to him, you heard his own chair scrape the deck floor. You had your eyes squeezed shut as you got ready for what was coming. He reached out, but nothing happened.
You looked over your shoulder to see Sanji pulling Chosi in by the sleeve.
‘Believe me, we don’t wanna do that, mate.’ Sanji said, his eyes filled with a new rage that made you take a step back.
‘Let go of me, you sleaze.’ Chosi suddenly reminded you of a feral kitten, how he tried to wriggle himself out of the waiter’s grip. ‘I’ll make you regret ever touching me. Do you know who I am?’
‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he let go with a laugh, almost pushing Chosi to the ground. As your date dusted off his sleeves, Sanji took a step forward, pressing himself against him. Now that both men were standing face to face, did you only realise how much taller Sanji was than your boyfriend. How much bigger and, most likely, how much stronger. With a hushed and reserved tone yet somehow full of intimidation, the waiter said, ‘Don’t you ever try to touch or speak to a woman like that again, you hear me? Or I’ll make you regret you were ever born.’
Chosi could only nod with his eyes blown wide open. The restaurant was dead quiet, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. No one said anything or moved, and yet, somewhere, a stack of plates fell. The crash of porcelain echoed through the space, and Sanji turned his attention toward the kitchen’s double doors for a second. That quick moment was enough for Chosi to find his moment and attack.
Or at least make an attempt at it.
Sanji was still looking toward the kitchen, and Chosi’s fist was in mid-air, but the waiter flawlessly manoeuvred around it, swinging himself back and letting Chosi fall forward. To make matters worse, Sanji supplemented the fall by kicking him over. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend’s chin had smacked against the table, you would have missed the entire thing, as Sanji’s movements were so elegant that it seemed as if he had not moved at all. He might as well have been refilling your water, ignorant of the groaning mess of a man he had kicked down to the ground with such ease.
Chosi got up shakily. A nasty cut was already dripping blood from the underside of his face, but the redness didn’t compare to the rage on his face. He looked around until his eyes caught yours. ‘What, you’re just gonna stand there like some dumb–’
‘What did I just say?’ Sanji said, this time much louder, not trying to hide the row from the rest of the diners. But before he could make another move, Chosi reached for the nearest thing he could reach, which in his case was your dish of ramen, and threw a fistful of noodles Sanji’s way, hitting him square in the chest.
Silence.
He must have been too stunned at the audacious strike to move out of the way for it. Everyone must have been watching the noodles unstick from his navy jacket and slowly fall to the ground, then watched as Sanji raised his head back up, his expression unamused and cold, but his eyes filled with a passionate and furious fire. One that was enough to live up to the promise he had made the man you had come to the restaurant with. And so, just like that, without another word needing to be said by anyone, you watched Chosi back away—one, two, three steps, whimpering and mumbling some comments that could almost make up an apology, before he sprinted up the stairs to the exit.
‘Ridiculous,’ you heard Sanji mutter under his breath. ‘Fucking waste of food.’
Before you could think any better about it, you walked up and knelt down, as he did, to reach for the spilt noodles. ‘I am so sorry,’ you started apologising. ‘I swear normally he–’
‘Is exactly like that,’ Sanji chuckled with a rasp. You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded. He had managed to scoop most of the food before you had and was already getting up. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ One of his colleagues had been quick with bringing over cleaning supplies. ‘If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Let me make it up to you—a drink in the bar, on the house.’
‘No, that is really not necessary.’ You couldn’t accept anything for free after your boyfriend pulled off such a scene and… had run off without paying. The realisation hit you like a brick on the head as you cursed under your breath with a strong sense of panic, which Sanji caught on to immediately.
‘Please,’ He reached gently for your arm. ‘I insist.’
You stuttered for a moment before actually answering in defeated agreement. With a satisfied smile, Sanji led you to another exit, leading to the bar deck. ‘Right this way, madame.’
The bar deck, located in the mouth of that giant fish head, was moderately empty. Except for you and the appointed barman behind the counter, only a handful of others were sprinkled across the couches and futons. You chose a seat overlooking the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sky and waters an array of warm colours.
You understood that you had to go up to the bar to order, but you felt no particular need for it, just enjoying the breeze that brought over the calm sea air towards you.
It was unclear how much time you spent sitting out there, looking at the waves splashing by and the clouds above you and the people around you. Only once the sun had set entirely, darkening the sky completely, and most people had left the area, you decide to finally walk up to the bartender and place an order. The man nodded and proceeded to make your drink with only a few attached flourishes to the craft, but the result was charming and tasted delicious.
‘I hope I had made it clear that that was one drink on the house,’ you heard from behind you.
‘Don’t worry, this is my first.’ You said, turning around to see Sanji standing behind you.
‘You might just be the slowest drinker I have ever met,’ he said as he took the spot by your side.
‘Jeez, do your manners flush away the second you’re off the clock?’ You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, most likely also proving Sanji his point as the sip you took was particularly small.
‘For what it’s worth, madame, I was about to tell you that your bill has been taken care of.’ He leaned against the bar countertop with his forearms. ‘But I will make myself scarce now.’
‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could push himself back. ‘What do you mean it was– I would have happily paid. At least let me leave a tip.’ You were ready to pull out your purse when he took his turn to halt your movements.
‘I will not be accepting any tips for my service today. And honestly, you barely had a meal to eat, let alone to pay for. It is all taken care of. I promise.’
You looked up at him apprehensively, but something about his–not necessarily laidback–but how he was so comfortable with the situation put you at ease, too. But something was gnawing at your conscience.
‘Alright then, but I disagree with the review of your service. You most certainly need something for it in return.’ How could you repay the man who had just gotten you out of your horrific relationship? You doubted anything in the world could match your actual gratefulness. Although, maybe the smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips said something different.
‘Let me cook for you.’
‘What?’ You blinked slowly, making him smile even wider.
‘You haven’t eaten anything proper in hours. Let me make you something in the kitchen–an exclusive guest experience.’
‘That doesn’t sound much like a gratuity for you.’ You pointed out, but he did not seem to mind.
‘Indulge me,’ was all he responded with. Feeling giddy at the prospect, you glanced over at the bartender, who was definitely listening in on the conversation. Understanding what you meant with your look, he simply shrugged while wiping the glasses.
‘Ok then.’ This entire thing felt utterly ridiculous, and you didn’t hide the amusement you felt from it as Sanji opened the door to the kitchen for you. That is when your smile lightly faltered, only to be replaced with a fallen jaw as you looked around in amazement. Like the dining area, this room had a high ceiling but wasn’t decorated as much as simply visually enhanced by all the bronze pots and pans hanging around, and the pipes leading from the ovens and stoves up to the chimneys. There were long lines of prep stations, behind which one Sanji comfortably made himself at home as he immediately got started on something.
The first few minutes, after you watched him exchange his suit jacket for a white chef’s uniform, you were occupied with the kitchen itself, but once you had gotten used to the environment, you wondered where you could make yourself equally comfortable as not a nuisance to him as he cooked.
‘Make yourself at home, sweetheart,’ he said while chopping some ingredients at a speed that made your heart skip a beat in fear. Or did that come from the new nickname that caught you by surprise?
‘What happened to “madame”?’ you walked closer to his station. Sanji just looked up briefly, eye covered by his hair but his smile evermore present. Your smile lasted longer as you forgot you had meant to look at what he was doing, not to stare at him. Noticing he was not planning on answering your question, you asked another. ‘So, what exactly are you making?’
‘Since I’m sure dinner did not turn out entirely as you had planned, I thought maybe dessert would be a good pick-me-up. Rose and chocolate meringue tartes, how does that sound?’
‘Makes me wonder what I did to deserve it,’ you laugh it off while speaking the question that had been on your mind this whole time.
‘I like to show a lady how she’s meant to be treated,’ he said as he poured several ingredients into a glass bowl and began wicking at a pace that should have stopped him from looking so effortless long ago. ‘It’s all part of the special package deal.’
‘Right, the Sanji Special, was it?’ You looked around at the countertop next to him, which seemed free from ingredients and anything you could set on fire. You glanced his way, and he swiftly nodded your way. With that permission in mind, you pushed yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs lightly back and forth. ‘So what exactly does this special indicate?’
‘A nice meal, a little surprise, a few kind words, nothing too crazy. I would like to think that, with it, I have perfected the recipe on how to eliminate shitbag boyfriends like that prince charming you came here with.’
‘My knight in shining armour.’ You rolled your eyes, hiding how much you appreciated all his actions from that day. ‘Must have worked on quite a few girls then?’
‘Can’t say it has,’ he said as he pushed the oven open to prebake a few tartelette frames. The speed at which he worked truly was otherworldly.
‘Can’t because of a bad success rate or because you hadn’t actually tried it before?’
He appeared next to you from beside the oven; tiny droplets of sweat were forming at his temple, but his energy was still burning like the fire under the pot where he was melting the chocolate. ‘Let's say the latter. For both our dignity’s sake.’ It did not come as a surprise to you that he was a flirt and most likely tried these tricks out on the entirety of the female clientele, and yet, for reasons unknown, you did not mind one bit, and it still did not seize to make the smallest of his advances work on you with tremendous effect.
‘Don’t think I have much more of that left after everything that happened out there.’ You cringed at the memory of the shouting, the mess, and just how many people had been sitting there watching you.
‘There’s been much worse out there, believe me.’ Sanji lowered the fire under the pan lightly.
‘I hardly believe that. He threw noodles at you. That is absolutely revolting behaviour.’ And somehow, you managed not to get kicked out of the restaurant along with Chosi but even got to hang out in the kitchen after hours as a special dessert was being prepared for you… by the waiter that your boyfriend had tried to assault— no, that your ex-boyfriend tried to assault. That felt much better, but still didn’t let the whole situation make any more sense.
‘And that wouldn’t even make the top ten of shit that’s happened around this place.’
‘I… am not sure wether to be relieved or disappointed.’ For an inexplicable reason, you thought you would be more memorable to him. However, would you have wanted that, seeing the actual circumstances under which that would be? Ugh.
As if he could read your mind, Sanji added in. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not planning on forgetting you anytime soon.’
‘I bet you say that to everyone.’ You rolled your eyes, to which he just smiled. ‘But really, I am sorry for what happened—especially to your suit.’
‘I care more about the noodles, honestly, don’t like seeing food go to waste—’ he drifted off with his thoughts before coming back up to the surface with another question, ‘speaking of noodles, where’d you meet this guy anyway?’
‘It’s complicated,’ you sighed, not wanting to burden him with your story, but from the eager attitude he was conveying as he managed his ingredients, he did not hold the same sentiment over it. ‘We had been friends for ages—out dads worked together—and it seemed, to everyone, apparently, like the natural progression of events that we would end up together.’
‘Everyone… except for you?’ he assumed, looking up at you from the counter space.
‘No, I mean, at first I thought so too, but over time… well, you saw it yourself. But by the time I had realised what a mess I had gotten myself into, it felt like I was already too late.’
‘How so?’ You heard the gentleness in his question like he was treading the topic lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on it or on you to answer.
‘Heard people talking he had been planning to propose.’ You shrugged it off. ‘But I doubt that will be happening anymore.’
‘What are you going to do now?’ The question came with that same carefulness but perhaps a bit more intrigue. You simply shrugged again.
‘Will probably have to find another ship to get back home on, as I can’t imagine he would want me on board with him.’ It was crazy you had not bothered to check but assumed that he had already taken off hours ago, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. ‘And then, if I see him again… well, not much else I can do but officially dump his ass.’
‘So I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did?’ He stopped what he was doing as he waited for an answer.
‘Absolutely not. I can’t thank you enough for doing that.’
The both of you shared sheepish smiles before you watched him work silently for a few more minutes. The tarte frames came out of the oven in a beautifully crisp golden tone, and he mixed the chocolate into a thick mousse while the rosy syrup lay back to cool off. While the two of you remained quiet, the kitchen was anything but that as his utensils clinked around the pans. You thought back to a few hours ago and how the silence at your table had been anything but this. You had sat in a cold dread, waiting for something to snap until it inevitably did. However, you sat back comfortably here, happily watching as Sanji focused on his work.
It really was his element. While you thought the man had been exemplary at waiting tables, it was nothing compared to the ease at which he performed here. Each move he made seemed like second nature to him.
‘Do all the waiters here know how to cook like this?’ you inquired, leaning in to see how he filled the pastries up, hands in a tight grip on the piping bag.
‘The ones that are cooks do,’ he chuckled.
‘You’re a cook?’ you blinked, ‘then what were you doing out there earlier?’
‘Ah, the old shitbag that runs this place likes to torture me and send me off to do the waitin’.’ He readjusted his hold on the piping bag, briefly stopping to wipe his hand on the towel tucked between his belt.
‘Doesn’t that bother you? I’m sure you’d much rather work here.’ You certainly would. Some people could be real assholes to serve… your former date being a prime example. But Sanji simply laughed it off.
‘Nah, not when beautiful women are out there waiting to be served.’ He stopped to look up at you with a shit-eating grin, and the unseriousness dripping off of it made you blush, smile along with him and push him back by his shoulder before you would do something else much more irrational. Perhaps a bit too hard, as he lost his balance, only finding it on the counter, exactly where the piping bag had been left behind. His palm fell right over the ending, bursting out the mousse in an unfortunate mess, spilling all over him and the counter.
‘Oh no,’ you said, covering your mouth but not the giggles from it, ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep his smile, but you shook your head harshly. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he pointed his hand, covered in chocolate, at you. Several thoughts ran through your mind initially, but you managed to suppress most of them, opting for simply running your finger over the back of his hand where most of the mousse had spilt and giving it a taste.
‘That is really good.’ you hummed at the sweetness. Sanji stood back, somewhat frozen at what you had done, but quickly thawed out with a few blinks.
‘Well, what else did you expect?’ He wiped the rest of his hand on the towel at his side, ‘and I’ll have you know it’s rude to eat the food before it’s done. Takes away from the experience.’
‘I’m sorry,’ you pouted, ‘but I promise you I am still very much enjoying this whole experience.’
‘You better.’ Sanji said, taking the baking tray and putting it back in the oven for the last few minutes. With the oven door shut, he sighed and leaned against the counter opposite you. ‘Now we wait.’
‘How long exactly?’
‘In a rush, are we?’ He glanced at you from behind his hair, and the question made you heat up in the face. Because how could you explain to this practical stranger that you were feeling the opposite of what he insinuated. That you did not want this night to end at all. That being here with him, even if you were just waiting for a damn tart to bake, you were having more fun than you had had in weeks, if not longer. So, all you did was simply shake your head again.
‘It will be just a few minutes, and then gotta let it cool for a bit.’ He reassured you. That is when you noticed the bowl he had mixed the mousse in, mostly scraped clean while filling up the piping bag, but even the best chef can’t always scrape every last ounce out. Now, you might not have had any particular urge to leave any time soon, but you certainly were hungry, and having tasted just how delicious Sanji’s food was, you couldn’t help but lean in to get another little taste.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He said, bemused, reaching to stop you from taking another swipe of mousse onto your finger. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, but he had been too late. When he caught you, you had your hand directly over your lips, looking up at him. He glared down at you in a daring manner.
You licked the chocolate off yourself as innocently as possible without bursting into laughter.
‘I can’t believe you’d do that.’ He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The presence of his body, so close to yours, almost touching, reverberated off of you with warmth, and suddenly, you felt the breath you had taken to be stuck in the back of your throat. ‘Did you not listen to anything I just said?’ His breath was hot against your skin, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a direct source of the skip in your heart.
‘Of course I did.’ You ignored the fast beating of your heart and the feeling like it might just burst out of your chest as you took him by the arm to give you some space and let you slide down the counter back onto your feet. ‘Something about experience and…’ you slid out from between him and the counter, and as you did so, swooped by the bowl of mousse with your finger one last time. ‘I forgot what else.’
‘You are unbelievable,’ Sanji reached for your hand, but you were quicker and manoeuvred around him and from his arm’s reach. Taunting him with the mousse, you walked around the work counters, and he, happily playing along, followed suit.
Like children, you ran around the kitchen, with him not far behind you, trying to catch you until he finally did, picking you up by the waist. Unintentionally, a squeak of a shriek came out of you, followed by both your laughs. You kept on laughing until you heard something outside the door. Heavy footsteps, freezing you both in your place until they moved on by. That is when you noted the time. Hours past midnight.
‘Are we even allowed to be in here at this time?’ You whispered as if the person who had walked by would suddenly be able to hear you.
‘Of course,’ Sanji said with confidence, but his expression juxtaposed this with signs that you could only read as “absolutely fucking not.” chances were that if you were caught in the kitchen at this time of night, you would be shot on the spot by, what did Sanji call him, the old shitbag.
But before you could run away in fear of getting caught, it was Sanji’s turn to take you by surprise. As you stood in his arms, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around your finger, sucking all the chocolate right off. You could feel his tongue move down your knuckles and back up until he released it, leaving you stunned and wide-eyed.
‘I thought it’s rude to eat a dish before it’s done,’ you managed to sputter out.
‘So you did listen,’ he smiled, ‘but you might want to know that a good cook always tastes their dishes in the process, and that… was delicious.’
‘Are you always this humble about your cooking?’ Your heart was basically in your throat at this moment.
‘Wasn’t talking about the food,’ his tone was deep, sultry, as he leaned closer. ‘But care to give me another taste?’
Your breath was officially hitched in your throat, unable to breathe properly, as you stared at him, body flooding with heat and need for him. As words escaped you, you nodded lightly and leaned in as he did the same, meeting your lips in the middle with a kiss.
As soon as it happened, his arms found their spot on your side as you fastened yourself on his shoulders. It was nothing like you expected it to be. For a man spending his entire nights and days in the kitchen, he felt nothing like it. You could smell the cologne, taste the cigarettes and the fresh mint he used to conceal the former. His tender but firm touch held you in your place as he pressed closer.
There was a force to it, but nothing that you didn’t feel in yourself to copy as the need for him boiled deep inside you.
Your hand moved slowly up to his cheek, over to his hair at the nape of his neck.
One of his hands, in the meantime, had found your thigh, pulling it up over his leg as he squeezed your soft flesh, but before giving you a chance to even react to this new position and all its implications, Sanji moved.
Pulling apart, leaving your lips to be the last piece he detached from as he kept your bottom lip between his teeth lightly, he apologised, ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ because while you might have forgotten all about the world around you, he had still been keeping track of the tartelettes that were baking down in the oven.
He pulled the tray of pastries out with a white tea towel, practically throwing it down on the counter, discarding it with a metal clang.
‘Now we wait for them to cool,’ he explained as he got back to you.
‘And what were you planning on doing in the meantime,’ you pulled him back in by the blue ascot tie.
With his lips ghosting over yours, he half-whispered, ‘I might have a few things in mind,’ and with it, kissed you again. While the kiss itself was not much different, with that same intensity and passion running through both of you as before, now you were very much aware of what was to follow. If it wasn’t your need that spurred you on, then it was Sanji and his eagerness. Despite his chef’s uniform and the navy apron, you could feel him grow harder against you as the kiss continued. A moan escaped you as his lips travelled down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses one by one until he reached a spot that was more sensitive than others. The simple touch sparked a fuse inside you.
As he continued playing with your sensitive skin, he led both your bodies to one of the empty tables at the side of the room, pressing you right against the edge and locking you in between it and him.
Without needing him to say a word, you understood exactly what you needed to do and climbed on top of the table, spreading your legs to make space for him right in the middle.
Your dress might have hiked up slightly over your thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Sanji, who took it upon himself to pull it up.
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying’,’ he smiled as he kissed the corner of your mouth and as his hand reached the top of your leg, ‘but I had been thinkin' about this ever since I saw you.’
‘Me too,’ you exhaled deeply, letting the confession sink in. Maybe Chosi was right after all. Now, with him out of the picture, you could admit that something had been there from the start, from the moment you caught a glimpse of the waiter cook. And if it wasn’t for all the shit that occurred that day, maybe you would have felt a twinge of guilt as you guided Sanji’s hand between your legs. If you had not shut that chapter behind you, perhaps you would have felt bad, but any insecurities of that disappeared as Sanji began to toy with your core. His slender fingers grazed slowly over your slit, putting enough pressure on it to make you arch your back in need of more.
‘Already so needy,’ he smirked. ‘And I barely touched you.’
‘Touch me then,’ you said with gritted teeth.
‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ His fingers moved up in pace and barely went any deeper, keeping you on the edge of satisfaction. ‘And what would madame like me to do?’ He threaded his movements, and you were growing impatient with the teasing.
‘Fuck me,’ ready to hear his next question, you added, ‘I don’t care how.’
His grin only grew wider at your words. Much to your dislike, he pulled his hand away to place both at your thighs, pressing his fingers into your skin and using that as leverage to make more space for himself in between.
‘As madame wishes.’ He spoke softly right below your ear as he descended onto his knees.
The kiss he left over your panties already invoked a tremble through your entire body, and it only got worse from there, in the best sense. He pushed your underwear aside and took his time giving you all his attention and care. Kissing your core deeply until his nose pressed up against you. His tongue licked up your juices like a starving man until your eyes rolled back, and you felt weak.
The table you were perched on was empty, so you only had Sanji to hold on to. At first, you reached for his shoulder, but it was just not high enough for you to find support. As you tried to look for it, Sanji reached for your hand and brought it up to the side of his head for you to tangle your fingers in his light locks. Before you even managed to grab onto them, simply letting your nails trace over his hair, you felt the vibrations of his moans strike you. Another deep blow to your senses pulled you further down to the edge. Closer and closer until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your grip on his hair tightened as your breath grew sporadic.
‘Fuck, fuck,’ you moaned, voice filled with desperation for a release, and one that Sanji would be more than pleased to give you… just not quite yet. As he pulled away from you, you deflated with the feeling of a ruined climax and the urge to pull him back to finish what he had started, but all you could do was whimper in protest.
‘Don’t worry,’ he kissed your knee softly, ‘all in good time. I promise to take good care of you,’ and with that, he rose back up to his feet, untying his apron.
‘That was good,’ your chest still moving up and down heavily as you caught your breath. ‘Really good.’
‘It pleases me to hear that,’ he said as he threw the apron aside onto the ground. ‘And believe me, I would love to go back for seconds—’
‘Does all your pillow talk stem from restaurant jargon?’ you interrupted jokingly.
‘You laugh, and yet you’re the one begging me to fuck you.’ God, he was so cocky, with the way he stood there in front of you, his head tilted sideways, and his lip turned up in a grin that told you he knew he was right. ‘So, please, let me.’ His hand was already on his belt buckle.
There was no time or need for either of you to undress. With your dress hiked up to your hips, he already had easy enough access, and once his belt was loose, it only took a few sharp pulls for you to release him from the material restraints.
‘You ready?’ he asked.
‘For the love of god,’ grabbing him by the arm, you pulled him in, ‘stop talking and just take me.’ You knew he was about to respond, but before he got the chance to make another absurdly silly but nonetheless flirtatious comment, you shit him up with a kiss. Just like that, the two of you melted into one another. Sanji made himself comfortable between you and let his lips wander down to your neck again, to that one spot he found that drove you crazy.
He kept kissing your neck as he finally slid into you. The two feelings made your body go weak, melting you into a puddle of burning nerves as he spread your walls and filled you up perfectly.
First, he moved slowly, but with each thrust, he sped up more and more, putting more force into it until you were both shaking with ferocity, and the table underneath you scratched over the planks it stood upon. The sound of the tortured floor was the only thing covering up both your moans and that of the messy skin-to-skin contact.
While he practically pounded into you, you reached for his hair again. There was just something about it: how messy you managed to make it with a few tugs and brushstrokes. All of it, how he acted and reacted, it was all in response to you. Just how he made you see stars with each move he made.
‘Feels so good, fuck,’ he groaned over your shoulder as you grabbed for his, pulling him closer if possible. He had your legs pressed against his sides. He shook his head quickly, letting the hair flick out of his sight, but the attempt was poor as the lock quickly fell back over his eye despite his efforts.
‘San–’ you moaned, ‘Sanji–’
‘That’s right,’ he might as well have been kissing you, so close were his lips to you, but instead, the only thing you truly felt was his hot breath on your skin as he kept going deeper and harder. ‘Gonna come for me? His voice got even deeper the longer he kept going. At the sound of it, your nails dug into his back, his striped shirt being the only thing saving him from possibly some nasty scratches, but it seemed to only spur him on more. ‘I–’ you gasped out as you felt him hit the deepest part of you.
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m close, fuck.’ the pit in your stomach tightened, your muscles strained as you tried to hold on to that feeling of pleasure he brought over you. The tension built up like a band being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment; he had you in his grip, waiting to let go of you at the exact right time. All you needed was that touch, just the right one in the right spot.
You could feel it all. Could feel just how close he was himself as his thrusts got sloppier, and his breathing grew heavier and rougher between his words. ‘Yeah, c’mon. I know you can do it. Come all over my cock. ‘’s gonna feel so good, I promise you.’
The encouragement might not have been necessarily what did it. It was more like a concoction of things that all led to this precise moment when ecstasy overtook your body and washed over you like a hot flash. Sanji was not far behind you, riding his high as he ensured you got to yours. His movements slowed down as you felt the cum slick down your thighs. While you both caught your breath, it became quiet once more.
It took you a bit longer to catch up on air in your lungs, and so while you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you heard Sanji zip his trousers back up and lightly walk across the aisle between the workstations. When you opened your eyes again, he was making his way back to you already, a handful of paper towels in his hand.
Despite the burn you already felt in your sore muscles, you spread your legs one last time to give him access to clean you up. His soft touches to your sensitive core now were in stark contrast to what he had been doing to you moments ago, but the cold of the damp towel brought a nice sense of comfort.
‘You think you can stand up for me?’ he asked gently, and the little words in that tone were enough to make your heart flutter.
‘Yeah, I think so.’ You said, but that was quickly proven wrong when your knees buckled almost immediately when your feet touched the ground. It was only because of the way that Sanji held your arm that you had not completely toppled over.
‘Woah, alright.’ He smiled, never letting go of you, ‘How about we just sit for now.’ Slowly, he guided you to sit on the ground, back against a cabinet. ‘Water?’
You nodded in agreement. The question had made you realise just how parched you were.
‘Still, sparkling, mineral?’
‘Surprise me.’ You said through a tired smile at the reference to how he waited on you earlier, but moments later, you reminded yourself of your preference, ‘just not sparkling! It just tastes foul.’
‘Anything but sparkling water, coming right up.’ He moved around the room to pour you some surprise water, and while he did so, you pressed your face into your hands, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Less than 12 hours ago, you had been walking up the deck, arm in arm, with your good-for-nothing boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance. Now you sat on the ground of a restaurant kitchen, with no idea where said–now ex–-boyfriend was in the world, coming down from one of the best orgasms you had ever received… all by the hand of a stranger. A handsome stranger at that. One that you could imagine seeing much more of in the future, but it was all just too silly.
And you were tired. And hungry.
‘Voila,’ Sanji appeared in front of you with impeccable timing, a large ice-cold looking glass in one hand, filled with ice cubes and cucumber, and two plates in the other hand. The rose and chocolate meringue tartes look particularly inviting. ‘Thought you might finally want to try one,’ he said as he handed you a plate and fork.
‘I swear, you’re a godsend.’ No matter in how much need you were of a drink, the sight of the dessert made your mouth water.
‘Ah, just a little something sweet for—’
‘If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I will shove this tarte in your face.’ One could only endure so much of this sappy flirting, even if you found it very endearing. Sanji shut his mouth and sat beside you, poking his fork into his portion.
The two of you ate quickly but still took enough time to appreciate the flavours that oozed out of the pastry and its filling. The moan you made as it all reached your tastebuds might have been more pornographic than any sound you made while he had been deep inside you.
‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ you said through another bite. The praise brought a huge smile to the cook’s lips. ‘Seriously, thank you. For everything.’
‘It’s been my pleasure,’ he spoke in a way that almost made you think he was getting shy on you. That felt unlikely, but you let him process it all for a moment as you kept eating.
Only once you had eaten everything off your plate did you ask your next question of the evening. ‘How did you know I would like this?’
‘It’s a chef’s best trait,’ he pulled the fork out of his mouth with a pop, ‘to be able to read their customers well. To be able to tell what they like or dislike; to know them better than they know themselves.’
‘But how?’ With intrigue, you moved closer to him. He had been leaning against the same cupboard as you, one of his knees raised up and an arm hanging casually over it. His hair was still messy, falling over his eye. ‘How could you tell I would enjoy this specific dish?’
The one unobstructed eye fell over you, looking up and down over your body as his mischievous smile reappeared. ‘It felt fitting.’
‘How so?’ You blinked, confused as to what he meant.
‘Sweet, decadent and hot; what’s there not to like? I mean—’ he leaned in over his arm to kiss you, feather-light. Then, he hummed as he pulled back. ‘It is an absolutely divine combination.’
Your cheeks burned up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, and you could not dare keep looking at him as he stared down at you with that innate hunger. That kind that could only be filled with one thing, and it just so happened to have wholly exhausted you.
‘Is this still all part of that special of yours?’
To this, Sanji shrugged, ‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On how long you want to keep me around.’ He scraped some leftover mousse from his plate, licking it off his fork.
‘I think for a while,’ you admitted. Yeah, you definitely hadn’t had enough of him yet.
‘Well, then there’s so much more I can do for you, madame.’
the end
thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and commenting-either through the comments, in a reblog or through my inbox <3 to hear your thoughts on my writing means the world to me and really is a huge help in motivation to keep going.
you can find my other writing here
#opla sanji#opla sanji x reader#sanji x reader#one piece fanfiction#one piece x reader#sanji fanfiction#sanji fanfic#sanji#sanji vinsmoke#sanji vinsmoke x reader#one piece live action#one piece live action fanfiction#opla fanfiction#opla#opla x reader#opla x y/n#sanji x y/n#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x y/n
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#antiquesforsale#bronze sculpture#bronze#victorian#italian#italian art#italian sculpture#royalty#hunting#super shotgun
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Mithril Lined
NOW WITH ART BY THE AMAZING @lorbalith!
Words count: 6,370
Rating: Explicit
He moved on to the jewelry. Something he felt unsettled by for one reason or another. He would not wear gold, and the bronze that he was so naturally drawn to was not enough for the statement he was trying to make. As he dug through the chest, a glittering silver chain caught his eye. He pulled it out and discovered that it was, in fact, not silver like he thought. It was an armband with dangling chains, the band itself set with a square-cut sapphire in the center. The metal that shone was identical in coloring and shimmer to his mithril vest. Glancing quickly back at the clothing he had set aside, he placed the piece behind him and continued searching for similar items. By the time he finished he had found a whole matching set of jewelry. A set of anklets that connected to one of his toes, an ear cuff that had several looping chains, four rings, the aforementioned armband, and a bracelet. Though the most surprising thing to him was the fact that every piece fit him perfectly. Something that he would ponder later, maybe at second breakfast, perhaps.
Placing what he was secretly calling his armor aside for the morning, he went to bed, hoping that tomorrow would not get him thrown out of the mountain.
The next morning came, and Bilbo woke still caught up in his thoughts. He knew Dis and Ori would be by as soon as the caravan arrived. With no small amount of trepidation, he got ready for this proverbial battle he was walking into. When the two dwarrow did arrive, Bilbo saw that they, too, had dressed for the occasion. Dis wore her hair and beard braided in a menagerie of twists and loops with silver clasps and chains dangling throughout. Her dress was blue with silver embellishments. Ori looked every bit the master scribe and potential advisor to royalty he was training to be. He wore a purple sash across the front of his scribal robes, and his hair was braided, though his beard was unadorned. Both stood stock-still when Bilbo bid them to enter his room. Ori looked as if he might cry and Dis looked like a cat that caught the canary.
“What? What is it?” Bilbo asked.
Ori gapped like a fish as Dis strode forward, pushing Bilbo into a chair. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Just sit here. Ori, please, do not say a word about protocol.” Dis commanded, pointing a motherly finger at the scribe with a small smile.
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WILLIAM AND LUCY ♡
The Prince of Wales chats with Lucy Bronze during his visit with the Lionesses to wish them luck ahead of the 2023 FIFA Women's World Cup at St Georges Park | 20 JUNE 2023
@duchessbitch tell me you don't see them meeting on weekends, sipping wine, being catty, and judging people together
#prince of wales#the prince of wales#prince william#william wales.#british royal family#british royals#royalty#royals#brf#british royalty#royal#s#lionesses sgp june 23#20062023#my gifs#gifs#lucy bronze#lionesses#duke of cambridge
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Masterlist.
Requests are open. If there is a WIPs you'd like to offer ideas for, feel free!
I write for Arsenal WFC and FC Barcelona Femeni, but players from other teams are more than welcome, especially those whom i've written for before. Please include your player of choice and your detailed request when you leave them in my inbox! I am not opposed to brainstorming in my DMs but please understand that I may not respond promptly but I will get back to you!
fluff = 💛, angst = 🚨, smut = 🔞
WIPs
Writer x Reader
Ewa Pajor
Glass Pane 🔞
Kika Nazareth
Playing Cards 🔞
Grace Clinton
Mikrokosmos 💛
Aggie Beever-Jones
One Thing Led To Another 🔞
Laia Codina
Reservation 🔞
Alessia Russo
Puppy Eyes 🔞
Jessie Fleming
We Might As Well Try 🔞
You Drew Stars Around My Scars 🚨🔞
Thorn in my Side 🚨
Wake Up Call 🔞
Jill Roord
The White Suit 🔞
Oral Fixation 🔞
Say Yes to Heaven 🔞
Elevators 🔞
Leila Ouahabi
Eyes on Me 🔞
Group Project [The Orgy] 🔞
Want, Not Need. Pt. 1
Want, Not Need Pt. 2
Careful Planning
Two is Better than One
Aitana Bonmatí
Ecstasy 🔞
Hope, Coffee, and Poetry 🔞
earmuffs 🚨
fidgets 💛
pretty lights 💛
lather 💛
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
Baby It’s Cold Outside 🔞
Alexia Putellas x Leah Williamson
Time Consuming 🔞
Time Difference 🔞
Melted Ice Cream 🔞
Alexia Putellas x María León
Twice the Pleasure 🔞
Good Girls 🔞
María León x Ingrid Engen
Crippled 🔞
Special Instructions 🔞
Arsenal Women
Chosen Family 💛
Alexia Putellas
Dress Up 🔞
Rain 🔞
Did I Cross The Line? 🚨
For Club and Country 🔞
Impatient 🔞
Honeymoon 🔞
Scars 🚨
Broken 🚨
Claire De Lune 🚨
all the rain in the world. 🚨
Darlin' I'd Wait For You 💛
Paris 🔞
If I have to ask, I don't want it. 🚨
Fire and Ice 🔞
beige. 🔞
One Call Away 🔞
Bottom Ale 🔞
Betrayed 🔞
Show Me 🔞
Ona Batlle
Collateral 🚨🔞
without you 🚨
Too Dangerous 🔞
To Love Someone 🔞
The Best of Me 🔞
Backseat 🔞
Touchy Feely 🔞
don’t let them hear. 🔞
Angel in the House 💛
Royalty 💛
La Princesa 💛
She's going to be okay. 💛
I don't think you deserve gentle darling. 🔞
Touch me like nobody else does. 🔞
Leah Williamson
Choice 🚨
Flare Up 💛
Guardian of My Heart 🚨
Sun to Me 🚨
Alone 🚨
good excuse 🔞
When I’m with you, there is no one else because I get heaven to myself. 💛
Cookies and Cuddles 🔞
baby bear 🔞
dreams 🔞
don't wander 💛
Kiss Me Before You Go 💛
Arsenal's Number 6 🔞
Blueberry Pancakes 💛
Fore! 💛
They could never be mad at you. 💛
Nightmares and Hot Chocolate 💛
Leah Williamson x Lucy Bronze
I've got you. 💛
Georgia Stanway x Leah Williamson
I don't need you. 💛
Maya Le Tessier
I'm not sick. You're delusional. 💛
Georgia Stanway
Lazy Saturdays and Scrambled Eggs 💛
#woso soccer#woso imagine#leah williamson#ona batlle#georgia stanway#maya le tissier#lucy bronze#mapi león#ingrid engen#alexia putellas#laia aleixandri#jill roord#leila ouahabi#lotte wubben moy#aitana bonmatí
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MASTERLIST
woso world
jessie fleming
adoption papers (fluff)
frat boy jessie p1, frat boy jessie p2 (p2 18+)
bestfriends sister (suggestive)
jersey swap (smut 18+)
blushing beauty (fluff)
hard launch (online and real life)
little O , part 2 (fluff)
stupid canada (smut 18+)
on the wall (funny)
morning runs
practice? (fluff)
moving on series (multiple parts)
new home (smut 18+)
father to be (fluff)
parting gift (smut) (+niamh charles)
something new (smut)
I didn’t know
Microphone drop (blurb)
sam kerr
stubborn girls (fluff)
tattoo artist
give up (angst)
kyra cooney-cross
debut (fluff)
chicken shop date
falling behind (angst)
ugly christmas sweater (very suggestive)
on sale (angst)
rent a girlfriend (suggestive)
first time (smut 18+)
time (slight angst)
tattletale (blurb)
steph catley
sunshine masterlist (child!series)
katie mccabe
afl day (fluff)
shitty melbourne weather (fluff)
what happens in vegas (very suggestive)
kerstin casperij
chookas (soft)
teammates , jealousy p2.
such a tease
leah williamson
chelsea royalty (suggestive)
bad dream (fluff)
ass girl (suggestive)
jill roord
baby fever (fluff)
like he can (smut)
blessing in disguise
ends with us series
socks
georgia stanway
best wag (coming soon)
niamh charles
parting gift (smut) (+jessie fleming)
first meet
competitive
mackenzie arnold
lucky charm (fluff)
hayley raso
yellow card
teagan micah
take the punch
bruins suck
an old friend from school
lucy bronze
world cups (blurb)
lucy blondes (fluff)
charli grant
awards night (fluff)
lionesses x reader
break-up (angst, fluffy)
arsenal x reader
spiked (angst)
caitlin foord
winners are grinners (fluff)
secrets we keep
katrina gorry
duty calls (angst)
patri guijarro
bad thing (blurb)
lotte wubben-moy
invaded (angst)
vivienne miedema
so long London (fluff, angst)
alexia putellas
prison for life
ninja turtles
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It's not so stressful when I'm with you - Daniel Ricciardo x AmericanOlympicEquestrian! Reader
Plot: Daniel Ricciardo as the most Non-American American to ever walk this planet, got himself a real southern belle cowgirl. A busy week up coming up with the Austin Grand Prix and Equestrian Competitions.
The next week was going to be stressful for both you and Daniel. Monday - Thursday you had Equestrian Competitions across Texas and then, Thursday - Sunday Daniel had his race at COTA.
Which meant there was no time for you guys to chill out and spend time properly with one another. You owned a farm in Texas, where all of your horses and other animals stayed.
Monday was a day where you spent most of the day prepping your thoroughbred for tomorrow. You gave her lots of treats and practiced with her in the fields and along the walking trail behind your ranch home. Only did you spend dinner and the short time in the evening with Daniel before you needed an early night.
Tuesday morning and you were waking up for 5am, putting on some denim shorts and one of Daniel's oversized shirts and slipping on your authentic cowboy boots and hat before making going out on the farm feeding all the animals while watching the sun rise.
Daniel woke up to your sweet kisses, 2 hours later and your hand caressing his back, a groan coming from the back of his throat.
"Mmmmm baby" he groaned feeling your nails brush down his back as you started to scratch it a little, knowing it was one of his favourite feelings apart from the g-force in an F1 car.
"Baby, my competition is soon. You got to get ready if you are going to come" you say, and he sighs forcing his face into your pillow, sniffing it to smell you more before he fully gets up. He loved hearing your cheery southern belle voice in the morning.
In seconds the door that was pulled closed burst open as your golden retriever 'Badger' come bundling in and jumping up on the bed starting to lick Daniel's face.
"Badger, stop" he groans making you just chuckle as he tries to swat the dog away. You pull him down off the bed, rubbing and petting him before lightly tapping his behind to get him out the room. All while Daniel rubs the slobber off his face using the back of his hand.
Daniel was now sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"You look so sexy in the mornings" you smile pushing his hair out of his eyes before kissing him all over his face.
After that he spent the whole day with you watching you do what you did best ... ride. And yes, he would constantly make that joke to everyone and anyone he could.
He was your personal photographer for the whole day, taking angles of you on the horses and around the farm. He was in awe the whole day and any onlookers could tell he was in his element.
Wednesday came around and he helped get your horse ready for the dressage day, there was way more fans around the center today wanting pictures with you and your horse. As a bronze medalist for America, whenever you came to these competitions you were treated like royalty.
Thursday rolled around and Daniel was heading to the race-track while you were still at the Equestrian centre, making sure your horses were okay to travel back. You both didn't see each other for the whole day, and from the last few days were so exhausted you'd fallen alseep alone, hours before Daniel came back from dinner with Max, Lando, Oscar, Yuki, Charles and Pierre.
He'd got in, just as exhausted as you had been, crawling straight into bed without a shower and only in his boxer shorts, not having the energy to change into his pijama trousers.
Friday was the first day you could have a lay in this week, and Daniel knew that so of course he didn't force you to come watch him at FP1. Once you gradually woke up, got ready into a nice little sundress showing of your curves before leashing up Badger to take him to the track with you to see Daniel.
You spent the rest of the day with Daniel at the race track showing badger around. He was used to the loud noises thanks to all the farm machinery, so when FP2 came around he sat calmly next to you as you watched on with headphones, your boyfriend going 5th fastest for the whole practice session.
You came home together and he helped you settle the farm down for the night, taking a bareback ride together to watch the sun set.
You both slept soundly that night, waking up together back in the normal routine where you made fresh breakfast while he showered and the ate together and then he fed the dogs and let them out while you showered.
You both headed to the race track together, this time with your award winning horse that for whatever reason the FIA allowed Daniel and a few other drivers to ride down the track and Paddock lane. You rushed home placing Sparkles into the stable before making the journey back so you wouldn't miss qualifying.
You watched as your boyfriend managed to get into Q3 despite some car issues and qualified P6. You were screaming at the top of your lungs when you heard through your headphones where he managed to place and everyone in the garage pulled you into a hug.
You both went out for a romantic dinner that night in the place you'd first met in which was right after you'd won your first Olympic medal.
"God, i remember this. I was over there at the bar dancing on the table in my bell bottoms!" you giggled, looking to the bar area.
"I remember too, I came over to you and I said Howdy to you. You laughed and ignored me" he smiled, all nostalgic and reminiscent.
"Well, your accent sounded kinda funny and you could have been anyone. I didn't know who you were!" you grinned as you started eating your entrees.
You both again went home, basked in each others company for the rest of the evening.
Sunday was incredible, the atmosphere of race day was always amazing. You walked through, many people coming up to you asking for autographs as a celebrity of your own. They were mainly young girls also looking at getting in horse-riding that looked up to you.
Daniel ended the race with a podium. P2, after Max and Carlos crashed into each other, Lando also got his first win and honestly you felt like a proud mum watching your boys on the podium.
Many tears were shed as you watched the boys get their trophies and celebrate their wins with champagne.
Even though it was a stressful week, having Daniel by your side even if it was for only an hour of the day in the darkness it made it all the better.
y/user
Liked by danielricciardo, texaslonghorns and visacashapprb
y/user: Whose more Texan me or Daniel?
Tagged One Person
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danielricciardo: i love that dress on you, gorgeous girl <3
-> y/user: thank you baby!
danielricciardo: I'm more cowboy than you, also!
-> y/user: i disagree
texaslonghorns: no-one can beat out cowgirl queen
visacashapprb: Austin next round, Ricciardo for the win. Our Cowboy!
-> fan1: Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!
-> danielricciardo: Oi! Oi! Oi!
Instagram Story Caption:
The love of my life in Texan Sunset <3
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo f1#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo#dr3#dr3 x reader#dr3 imagine#dr3 fluff
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she's distracted.
how unbecoming. on her own wedding day, nevertheless. rhea quickens herself to smile. she does not think about this dreaded wedding dress which seems to engulf her, and the tightness of the braids in her hair that she cannot wait to take off when the night is done. ( in the vale, the braids are never this tight. ) she does not want to think about what will happen when the night is done.
❝ you are the heir apparent to kingdom of temeria, are you not ? ❞ rhea curtsies, welcoming and gracious; a lesson she's taken well when she was officially engaged with the prince. when rhea smiles, it is all courteous. the picture perfect wife for the most powerful house in the seven kingdoms in this side of the world. isn't that what she has sworn herself to ?
❝ i thank you for accepting the invitation to our wedding, your grace — or, ah, perhaps there is a title with which you prefer i call you by ? pray forgive. i am still learning the customs of the monarchy. i understand it differs with each continent. ❞
@moresaints — younger rhea sc
#moresaints#moresaints: zelda.#no bc what if zelda is a sovereign from another kingdom in the got world?#just bc i like ur description that shes going to be the king#and bc shes royalty - perhaps the targs invited her kingdom to the wedding!!!!#but also i hope this works timeline wise if theyre relatively the same age#bc rhea is like??? around 15 when she got married actually#BRONZE BITCH: INTERACTIONS.
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