#Practical Side Sword

[kultofathena]

Hanwei – Practical Side Sword

The Practical Side Sword manufactured by Paul Chen uses the same hilt as the sharp version from Hanwei (SH2203), but carries a sparring blade designed for safety. Side sword sparring, in both sword and buckler and sword and dagger modes is becoming increasingly popular with many proponents among the ranks of the various Renaissance societies.

[cagcd]

It's very funny to think that all the ppl that care about Johnny give him weapons for his protection and he just ... never uses them

[7-ratsinatrenchcoat]

man. in a better world where meliodas kept the boar hat, the wheat allegory would scalp and skin me

i do enjoy "living weapon" characters but specifically living weapons who did in fact do absolutely horrific things which at least a part of them enjoyed and thought was good and right at the time, and that no amount of not knowing any better or guilt they feel in hindsight will ever make up for. i love living weapons who are "irredeemable", and no it's not their fault that they were made that way or pointed in the directions they were by the hand that wielded them, and yes they are victims, but so were their victims. living weapons who some people will never be able to forgive, but who still wake up every day and try to do better than what's expected of them. a sword that uses its blade to cut wheat to make bread for the people who once lived in fear of its arc falling on their heads.

[beelze0-0]

Swordplay

Prints available here

(ID: sequential art

image 1: Zuko practicing sword dancing, wearing casual clothes.

image 2: Sokka in profile, watching in awe.

image 3: Zuko lunges with the sword.

image 4: close up of Zukos face glancing to the side with a slight smile.

image 5: Sokka hiding behind the screen panel, out of sight of Zuko who has halted the sword practice.

end ID)

[sleepymarimo]

❝𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩!❞

synopsis: you're tasked with waking up zoro for dinner, but it's hard to make him budge.

pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: more tooth rotting fluff for my favorite swordsman :) wc: ~1.6k an: i had a dream about this and added some even more fluff because why not. ty all i hope you enjoy <3 also i realized i have a decent chunk of zoro fics about napping lol maybe this is why im sleepymarimo i just love that sleepy lil guy

"Where the hell is that shitty swordsman?" Sanji grumbles, cigarette hanging from his lips as he sets a hefty plate of rice on the dining table.

Even though you're acutely aware that the marimo is missing, you pretend to peer over shoulders and swivel your head to give the impression that you're just as clueless as everyone else. You're already sat at the table, utensils neatly resting beside your plate.

Everyone else is already in the dining room, Luffy practically on the brink of perishing as the food is placed before him. Chopper and Usopp are close behind, their forks glinting in the light.

Robin is patient, smiling at the sight before her, the one she's grown to love. "I believe he said something about taking a nap," she reveals, her fingers wrapping around the stem of a wine glass. "He might be holed up in the boy's room."

"You mean the men's room?" Franky speaks up in an attempt to lighten the mood, the cola bottle in his hand hissing as he pops the cap.

Nami shakes her head, not in the mood to entertain the hooligans she calls her crewmates- her family. When Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper start to chant for their food, the navigator's last straw cracks into a million pieces.

Her chair slides back with a screech as she stands, planting her hands on the table. "Ugh, I can't believe that guy, sleeping through dinner!" The sigh she gives is intentionally dramatic, her charm working its magic as Sanji quickly offers to knock some sense into the green-haired swordsman.

It all comes to a halt when a pair of hands sprout from the table, tugging at the cook's shirt in a silent command to stay put. All eyes go to Robin, her knowing gaze easily hiding whatever ploy is running through her mind.

She calls your name and you immediately feel your cheeks warm, though you still feign obliviousness even if it seems like she's peeking right into your brain.

"Why don't you get Zoro?" she suggests, yet deep down you know you don't have an option.

Even if the thought of protesting crosses your mind, the chorus of growling stomachs and pleas for you to hurry have you standing and scampering up the stairs and to the deck.

Standing in front of the door to the boy's cabin, you feel your stomach drop a bit. You're quite literally entering a tiger's den, into the willing jaws of a beast who has been known to treasure booze, swords, and naps above all else.

The air inside the room is significantly more warm, heavy, compared to the cool breeze blowing outside. It's dark, your eyes adjusting to the lack of lighting as you carefully step over shoes and dirty clothes.

For a moment the beds seem empty and you wonder if he's even inside, yet the massive figure atop one of the bunks makes you quickly reconsider that thought.

His bare back rises and falls at a leisurely pace, his arms sprawled over the sides of the bed while he lays on his front. Cheek pressed comfortably into his pillow, Zoro naps away without much care for anything else.

After gawking for a second or two, you step toward the bunk, mentally cursing, and steel yourself for what feels like the millionth time. The wooden structure is a bit too tall for you to get a look at him, so with a small grunt you step onto the bottom bunk and grip onto the rails to hoist yourself up.

As soon as you take a glimpse over the top bunk's railing, you feel the warmth of his exhales across your nose and cheeks. It makes your face warm, your own breaths stalling as you take in the sight of him looking so… serene.

His face is softened, relaxed, a stark contrast to the pinched brows and scowls he usually wears.

Imagining the exasperated faces of your hungry crewmates, you get on with your small mission. Even though you're there to wake him, you're considerate enough to keep mindful of your tone. "Zoro?" comes his name from your lips, a murmur not quite suited for waking a beast.

The most you get out of him is the slight wrinkling of his nose, like a fly had perched there for a second before buzzing off. In a way it's expected given that he's slept through storms and whole marine attacks.

Your tone is louder the next time you call his name, more firm, his silhouette becoming pronounced as your eyes adjust to the dark room. "Zoro," you call again, arms starting to ache from how you're pulling yourself up to the top bunk.

Again, nothing. It's almost comical at this point, really.

You resist the urge to groan in frustration, your options becoming more limited. Time really isn't on your side here, not when the odds of a hungry pirate barging into the room increases by the second.

Taking a big breath, you decide that this is going to be the last try. This is going to be the one to wake the marimo, whether he likes it or not.

Unfortunately, the sea has other plans for you.

The ship hits a patch of rough water, the violent movement causing you to lose your grip on the railing tethering you to the top bunk. Your breath also catches when the sudden jolt makes your feet slip off the mattress belonging to the bottom bed, your heart skipping a beat when you feel yourself starting to fall back.

You're fully prepared to brace yourself against the harsh floor, your muscles tensing and jaw tightening, but you don't even have the chance to fall back a single inch.

A strong arm, previously hanging limp over the bed, curls around your waist and holds you steady. It supports all your weight, even as your legs kick out in an attempt to find solid ground. With your face suddenly squished into the junction of his neck, your own arms act on instinct and wrap around his shoulders.

Zoro's awake now, steel-grey eye open and aware as if he hadn't been knocked out cold just seconds ago. His senses have a unique threshold, not bothering to pick up on the calls of his name but always managing to be ready when his crewmates need him most- especially you.

His skin is warm, a tell tale sign that he'd probably been napping for hours. Tightening his grip on you, he sits up, pulling you with him. You're still disoriented, wondering why you haven't hit the floor, but he's as sharp as ever.

"The hell are you doin'?" he grumbles, voice still heavy from his rest, carrying that delightful rasp. His irritated tone is a facade, more of a light chide than anything. "You tryin' t'break your neck or something?"

You feel like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a couple times while you're still dangling from the top bunk. It's hard to not get in a few mumbled apologies, not knowing if he's ticked from being stirred from his sleep.

"Dinner is ready," you reply, managing to find your words, your hold on him not letting up due to fear of falling once more. He feels so warm, the definition of a guilty pleasure, and you're left to exert as much self-control as possible.

He lets out a scoff, amused, then grunts as he finally realizes you're still hanging over the bed. His hand moves, sliding across your waist to grab at the back of your shirt. While Zoro's strength is known throughout all the seas, it always leaves you in awe. With nothing more than a bicep curl, he hoists you up and onto the top bunk with him.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you sink into the soft mattress, the bunk creaking with the added weight and how Zoro shifts into a seated position. Legs crossed over one another, he stretches his arms over head, unintentionally showing off his physical prowess.

Your eyes find the ceiling out of respect, but mostly because you're another second away from bursting into flames.

He yawns, then rubs at the back of his neck. "Dinner, huh?" he repeats, finding the answer satisfactory enough and shrugging his shoulders. "They sent the right person. I don't need that shitty cook hurling a kick my way."

You nod and even get out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure waking up to me almost falling is a lot better," you joke, looking over the bunk to see the drop to the floor.

"It's no problem," he assures, his gold earrings catching in the slivers of moonlight entering through the window as a lazy smirk grows on his face. "I got ya."

While you'd be willing to skip dinner to stay with the swordsman, your stomach protests with a hefty grumble. Zoro's stomach follows suit, making it's need for food known. The timing of it makes another laugh slide past your lips, a sound that makes his smirk soften into something more genuine.

With a small grunt, he hops off of the top bunk and lands on the floor with a solid thud. "Alright," he starts, stretching his back out a bit more before lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Let's go eat." His arms raise, ready to help you down from the bed. Whether you want to take the ladder or propel yourself into his embrace, he silently vows to be there to offer support. Although Zoro could be stubborn, gruff, and brash, he'd never let you fall, not ever.

[arpicityandneed]

You, Me, and the King

18+ f!reader. King bucky. Knight Steve. Queen reader. Dirty talk. polyship. light choking. creampie. Cuckolding. Voyeur!Steve.

~

If anyone noticed the visible bulge in the Steve's breeches they knew better than to say anything. The hefty sword he carried on his hip mixed with the deadly glare he gave everyone that passed by helped. They also knew better than to comment on the high pitched wails coming from the door Steve was guarding with his life. The new King and Queen were still on their honeymoon, locked away for days on end as they worked to fulfill their duty to the kingdom.

"J-James!"

He had you on your knees, your arms long since having given out as he thrusted into you. Every plap plap plap of his balls against your swollen clit echoed by the squelching of your pussy gobbling up his cock greedily. James pulled you up until his hand was around your throat, his hips never ceasing as he forced your back to arch. It made you squeal when he hit that special spot inside you. (Outside the door Steve had to clench his jaw and readjust his erection. He knew exactly what that sound meant, he heard it often enough now.)

You were usually quiet and shy, hiding at your King's side and whispering in his ear when you did have something to say. But every single time James got his cock in you, you couldn't help yourself. And your husband loved it.

"That's it my Queen. Let them, fuck, let him hear you sing for me." James let his scarred left arm wrap around you, his massive hand finding your clit easily as he fucked himself into your slick folds. You'd long since felt your own juices run down to your knees. You were sure James' balls were sticky as well.

"Please, James, I can't-" you sobbed as you came again, milking his thick shaft and making him curse.

"But you can, my love. Just a couple more. You have to if you're to give me an heir." He cooed at you, holding up your limp body as you tried to keep up with his endless stamina.

"Steve will lick you all better if you're sore later, promise." Your pussy tightened at the mention of your husband's head knight making James groan loud and filthy in your ear.

The man had grown up with your King, and you knew James trusted him more than he trusted anyone else. He'd even entrusted you to the blond. When your King was busy and you were aching, it was Steve who used his mouth and his fingers to make you feel all better. You'd even had him in your mouth when you felt bold. You wanted to practice, get better at pleasing your new husband. Steve always taught you so kindly knowing exactly what his King liked. You suspected they were more intimate than they let on and the thought made your pussy throb. But you'd never had Steves cock inside you. It was the one rule you had to follow. So when your husband mentions Steve you can't stop the embarrassed whimper that escapes you.

"I know, I know, you want his cock too." Your face burned at the truth of his words, and he laughed feeling your pussy get impossibly tight around him. "Just gotta let my cum all the way in your pretty tummy first. Gotta give me an hier."

"I'll be g-good, give you baby. Promise!" You knew Steve could hear every single word. Knew he'd be suckling on your clit later as he fucked James' cum back into you with his thick fingers when it leaked out. The very thought made you cum again, your fluttering walls dragging James along with you. He cursed, his grip tightening around your throat as his cock throbbed inside you.

"Take it my love, take every fucking drop-" He growled as he grabbed at the fat of your hip, using the leverage to fuck every spurt of cum deeper than the last.

When you both collapsed onto the bed, he cradled you to his chest kissing you slow and deep and drugging. You expected him to let you go to help you clean up a bit like he normally did. But he made no move to separate himself from you. You felt your cheeks heat once more when you realized why.

"James-" Your husband's icy blue eyes were locked onto where your bodies were joined, of the creamy mess he'd made of your pussy, but he seemed to know what you were asking if the smirk on his plump lips was anything to go by.

"Shh, just making sure it takes."

pt. 2

[radiance1]

"So, heard you're gonna go and live with the big bad bat." Damian's neutral scowl deepened at the sound of his voice. Instinctively, his hand flew to rest on the pommel of his sword. "Woah, woah. No need for violence, big bro."

'There was always a need for violence.' Damian thought.

"Aww, is big bro not happy to see me?" He flew around to Damian's front, hands resting under his chin as he smiled at him like all was right in the world. "Honestly, I'm a little hurt."

"What do you want, Daniel." Damian spat out, itching to unsheathe his blade yet restraining himself from doing so. "I don't believe you're here to just send me off."

"What? I can't just check in on my brother on the biggest moment of his life?" Danny asked, sounding so innocent that he was almost believable.

Almost.

Damian's eyes narrowed.

"Eh, ya got me." Danny leaned back in the air and shrugged. "I really don't care that much about you to do that."

"Then why are you here?"

"Well," Danny casually waved a hand. "Just wondering if the big scary shadow man would actually like you."

"What." Damian demanded.

"You know." Danny smirked and tilted his head slightly to the side. "You're a murderer, assassin, pretty evil in the eyes of the law and practically everything the Batman stands against. Plus, not to mention his other children-"

Danny paused when the tip of a sword poked against his throat.

"I am his only true child." Damian spat out.

Danny stared down at him, for a moment, no visible emotion through his eyes and face. One would almost call it unnerving. Yet the moment passed quickly, and the corner of Danny's lips quirked upwards.

"Yea, you made sure of that." Danny began, chuckling as he leaned forwards, metal cutting into skin as toxic green spilled from the wound. "But honestly, we both know you can't kill me anymore."

Damian snorted.

"And we both know you can still feel pain."

[terrestrialnoob]

Damian had never seen another person his age before.

“Wow, you're good at that.”

Damian froze in his practice and looked over at the boy. It was after his lesson, his instructor had other students to teach, and Damian had his own private training area. Well, it was supposed to be private. “Who are you?”

“Danny, what's your name?”

Damian glared at the boy. Who doesn't know who he is? “I am Damian Al-Ghoul, grandson of the Demon's Head, son of the Bat, heir to the League of Assassins.”

“Wow, that's a lot... Can I just call you Damian?”

“Servants call me Master. How did you get here?”

Danny shrugged, “I was just looking around.”

“Just looking around...”

“Yeah, my parents are in the science lab down in the bottom basement with the weird lake and I was helping them, but then I got board and Jazz said I wasn't allowed to leave the lab, but when I asked Dad, he said I could do what I want as long as I don't get in trouble.”

“Oh, the idiot scientists.” Damian remembered how his mother had described the new scientists hired to study the Lazarus Pools. A pair of geniuses when it came to the scientific study of magic but idiots in all other fields. Surely only idiots would bring their children to live with the League of Assassins.

“What do you mean? If you're a scientist you can't be an idiot?”

Damian huffed at the boy. “You can be smart at one thing and dumb at others. Like you could be good at reading but bad at numbers.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. But I'm pretty good at reading and numbers.” Danny then smiled brightly, “It looks like you're really good at swording though.”

“It's called swordplay. And yes, I am good at it. Better at it at my age than many who are older.”

“Can you show me how to do it?”

Damian contemplated for a moment, “As long as you don't get in the way of my practice, I don't see why not.”

Danny cheered as he ran up to where Damian was standing, but Damian pointed to the side of the training area, “There should be a spare sword over there you can use.”

Danny nodded and ran to get it then ran back.

Damian wasn't sure if he'd like showing Danny how to use a sword, but he liked how Danny followed all his instructions. It was different than how the servants followed his orders, but Damian couldn't place why. It became common place, for Danny to show up after Damian's lessons and Damian would show him what he'd learned. It actually made learning new things easier because Damian had to figure out how exactly something worked in order to show Danny how to do it. Not only that, but when they practiced the moves on each other, Danny would change them and make it harder to beat him. Damian did win every time, but Danny wasn't half bad.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

funniest disney history facts i can think of atm

literally EVERYBODY thought the lion king was gonna flop and pocahontas would be their greatest movie ever made. people begged to ditch lion king and work on pocahontas.

the reason robin hood ends so abruptly is that there was an actual ending planned and storyboarded but the crew spent too long arguing about everyone’s fursonas to finish animating it

madam mim was way less comedic in the original book but because her character was too similar to maleficent (who was in their latest film at the time), the sword and the stone crew decided to differentiate her by making her fucking hilarious

when making a goofy movie, jeffrey katzenberg (studio chairman at the time) told bill farmer to give goofy “a normal voice.” farmer, who had been voicing goofy for eight years at that point, including in the goof troop show that a goofy movie was a sequel to, was very confused. after making an attempt they decided to scrap that note completely.

as of march 2023, farmer is still voicing goofy, and tony anselmo has been voicing donald since 1986. the 2017 reboot of ducktales, which was slated as “wanting to do for donald what goofy movie did for goofy,” featured both actors as those characters; they had also been doing the voices for the original ducktales and goof troop/goofy movie. all the times goofy and donald interact in the 2017 ducktales however, donald was voiced by guest star don cheadle as a joke

current voice of mickey mouse bret iwan has stated that he has attempted to play kingdom hearts and did not do well

disneyland’s current world of color halloween overlay features a plot that is basically “the disney villains simultaneously adopt a goth kid” and i love it

people will make jokes about “well math says that the beast would’ve been 11 when he was cursed” well that was actually the original intent, but a flashback scene of baby beast was scrapped because he looked “too much like eddie munster”

when disney sent a representative to pixar to check on toy story production, she was like “this is all great! what style of music are you thinking” and they were like “for what” “for the songs” “we uh. we weren’t gonna have. any songs” and she went dead silent and then went “i have to make a call” and left the room

saludos amigos and the three caballeros were made as ww2 propaganda. the government commissioned disney to make movies to make latin america like them so that they wouldnt side with the nazis and provide them an in to invade, and latin america really liked donald duck so

saludos amigos was apparently the first time many usamericans realized that latin american people were like. people. film historian alfred charles richard jr said that the film “did more to cement a community of interest between peoples of the americas in a few months than the state department had in fifty years”

while latin america generally liked both films, chilean cartoonist rené rios boettiger fucking hated the chilean segment of saludos amigos, seeing the main character of pedro the plane as a weakass bitch, so in response he created condorito, the most popular comic character in all of latin america

disney wanted to adapt ts eliot’s old possum’s book of practical cats. his widow adamantly refused, and then sold the rights to andrew lloyd webber bc he wanted to make it sexy and she said “tom would’ve liked that”

in case you haven’t seen the defunctland, walt disney wanted epcot to be a futuristic utopia where he was basically the dictator. then he died so they just made it another theme park

speaking of defunctland the first defunctland video was on disneyworld’s alien attraction and please watch it. please it’s so funny

after the huge failure of the black cauldron disney was going to shut down its animation department. the department tried to convince them to keep them alive by showing them the one scene they had finished for the next movie– the mouse burlesque from the great mouse detective. it worked

the only attraction the black cauldron ever got was in tokyo disneyland where they put a tour under cinderella’s castle where everyone had to escape the disney villains trying to kill them, only to end at the horned king and the cauldron, who would try to sacrifice them to satan. this tour was popular but was closed in the early 2000s as the tunnels didn’t fit earthquake regulations and i want it in disneyworld so bad

walt disney once referred to his unionizing workers, led by goofy’s creator art babbitt, as “commie sons of bitches,” and i want a mickey build-a-bear that calls me a commie son-of-a-bitch whenever i squeeze its paw

[drchucktingle]

On your blog you've talked about dealing with chronic as a result from the stress of masking your autism.

It's a bit of a different situation, but my little sister (who we've begun to suspect has adhd) has been experiencing chronic pain in her arms and legs. I may be totally off base, but I was wondering if a similar stess might potentially be a factor in her pain.

If you're willing, would you mind talking about how your pain affected before you found a way to manage it (I tried searching your tumblr, but not much came up, so sorry if I'm asking a question that's already been answered)?

Thanks either way, I love your books. Love is real!

sure buckaroo GOOD QUESTION. i have had chronic pain in some form or another for LONG TIME in a number of STRESS RELATED WAYS. in past it has been cracking teeth from clenching dang jaws while i sleep and things like that, but a few years ago it was FULL ON BODY PAIN AND TIGHTNESS like every muscle was clenching up. went to the doctor over and over all kinds of dang specialists and it was very difficult to figure out what was going on. eventually landed on a sort of nebulous trot of STRESS but i can get more specific.

there are several things about me that you would never know just from looking or even talking to me for long times. i am a bi buckaroo, i am a non-dysphoric trans buckaroo, i am an autistic buckaroo. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE THINGS IS EITHER HIDDEN AUTOMATICALLY OR I AM SUCH AN EXPERT AT HIDING THAT IT IS SECOND NATURE

autism presents its trot in many ways, so my words do not apply to all, but my version is EXTREME ORGANIZATION AND ENDLESS WORK ETHIC. in way of freud (which is a silly way but sometimes good for symbolism talk) i have what you would call an OVERDEVELOPED SUPER EGO which is a double edged sword. i can write 100s of books at an incredible pace, but also feel like my body is constantly collapsing in on itself

this is not really something i consciously think about much, but eventually these health problems started creeping up. it was all from carrying this mystery tension in my body, because while it feels EASY for me to mask i believe all that tension goes somewhere and it stores up and stores up and stores up.

so i think the HEALTHY way that i have found to deal with this (i think of it as releasing the steam valve a bit so the boiler does not break down) is ART. this space where i am allowed to be CHUCK TINGLE and write without obsessing over the spelling or punctuation, or to loudly express my queerness, or explore gender, and to let my neurotypical mask down DIRECTLY RELIEVES my chronic pain because it literally makes my muscles relax.

when i started out this ARTISTIC TROT as chuck i used a LOT of metaphor to keep my privacy, with different words or different versions of people for different things, and buckaroos found this very funny. as a way to express myself artistically i also liked this metaphor trot a lot, but i have also found that the LESS metaphor i paint over my life as chuck, the better it is for my health. if you have noticed, i talk less about some of the parts of my life that were metaphors, or maybe you have seen that my voice has relaxed a bit in interviews, or that i carry myself a little differently over time, this is partially why. (there is another artistic reason that was a planned trot from the beginning and it has to do with my feelings as a young autistic buckaroo of not fitting in on this timeline, but we can dive into that later).

anyway, as PRACTICAL ADVICE i would say that FINDING A SPACE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF WITHOUT FEAR OR MASKING has been the number one trot for me. that can be a pink bag over your head writing hundreds of erotic shorts, or that can be just laying on the ground howling your heart out, or doing whatever stim you need to do.

i will also say that ONCE I REALIZED IT WAS MUSCLE TENSION getting a physical therapist helped a lot. because there are two sides, you have to start releasing steam from the steam valve, but at the same time youve also gotta start HEALING THE DAMAGE. so i think stretching and techniques like that can be very helpful.

hope that helps buckaroo LOVE IS REAL

[tossawary]

It's so funny that Palpatine is also a skilled lightsaber duelist and fighter, enough to take on 4 Jedi masters / war veterans at once and easily kill 3 of them (everyone except Mace Windu almost immediately gets wasted), and then to go on to beat Yoda too later. Like, it's funny to think about the logistics of it all. Who exactly has Palpatine been practicing with here? How often has he been hitting the gym in the past 15 or so years?

Up until that point in "Revenge of the Sith", it looks like Palpatine's main skill is manipulation. He doesn't really look like he's sunk a lot of points into melee combat. Supposedly, he trained Darth Maul, but Maul got wrecked by Obi-Wan Kenobi as a padawan and has been "dead" for over a decade by the time Palpatine is confronted by the Jedi and suddenly opens a can of whoop ass. Dooku is a skilled duelist, sure, but Dooku has been running the other side of the war, so he's not sneaking into Coruscant on a regular basis to be Palpatine's evil gym buddy.

Also, when is Palpatine finding the TIME to train that fiercely? He has a desk job! He has TWO desk jobs! He's the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic and also secretly running both sides of the war, all to slowly build up his Galactic Empire. His schedule must be packed. His time management skills are the real legendary dark powers here. He has to regularly be going straight from meetings with Republic Senators and the Jedi Council into video calls with General Grievous and the Trade Federation. Where on his calendar is this man putting his evil workouts where he waves around a red lightsaber?

I really don't like the idea that Palpatine is just so formidable in the Force that he doesn't ever have to worry about spaceships falling from orbit or keeping in shape. He's definitely not a normal guy, but he is also just a guy, given that Darth Vader eventually throws him off a Death Star bridge to kill him (temporarily, if we're going by the sequel trilogy, which I... don't). I understand that at this point in time, Palpatine is possibly super-boosted by the Dark Side thanks to the sheer weight of misery he's inflicted on the galaxy thanks to the war, so he's feeling GREAT, strong and fast and ready to rumble, but I don't think pure power in the Force alone should necessarily translate to staying flexible despite your desk job and having refined sword skills?

So, I guess I have to assume that Palpatine has a collection of personal dueling droids somewhere that regularly get wrecked by a lightsaber or something? Is there a gym maintenance droid somewhere rebuilding these other droids and chugging happily along learning every week (it gets its memory wiped on a daily basis) that the Supreme Chancellor secretly likes to play with lightsabers like a Jedi LARPer? Not an uncommon hobby! There are fan conventions for that!

[kultofathena]

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Hanwei – Practical Side Sword for HEMA

with a blade length of 37 9/16” and a weight of 2 lbs 14 oz

In stock and available to order now

[spxllcxstxr]

Northern Attitude (I) • C.S

(Gif not mine)

Request: hey!! can i request something where you’re a targaryen and you’ve been sent to speak with cregan like jacaerys did on the show, but you’re quite soft spoken and feel lowkey intimidated by all these big burly northmen. and ofc some flirting with cregan and he makes you feel safe :) -- @sarahisslytherin

Summary: In the process of assuring Winterfell’s loyalty to your mother, you get close to Lord Stark

Warnings: fem!reader, you’re the daughter of Rhaenyra but I don’t specify the father so it can be more inclusive (older than jace), alcohol and eating mentions

Word Count: 1.3k

A.N: This wasn't going to be this long and then I got so into it. I'm actually really happy with how this turned out! Not just because it's actually over 1k words, but also because i really really like it! And I hope you guys enjoy it too!!

Part I | Read the last part here!

•

The bitter cold of the North nips at your extremities even when housed inside the walls of Winterfell. This was a cold you felt right down to the bone, despite the furs your host had provided you with only hours prior when you arrived.

Since your arrival, you have occupied yourself in your chambers, flitting between the books on the shelves and the small hearth on the other side of the decent sized room.

It is not until late your host makes an appearance; matters from the Wall taking priority over the Queen's daughter. You held no ill will, knowing how important the Wall was for the Northmen closest to it.

The greeting outside of your chamber door goes smoothly; since birth you had to greet numerous Lords and Ladies, this one being no different. His charming looks, though stoic, catch you off guard. You take his offered arm before he guides you to the welcome feast.

Cregan leads you through the dark stone corridors of Winterfell, your arms intertwined as you hold onto the crook of his elbow. You feel his strong muscle through his many layers of thick fabric. Your footsteps echo along with the metallic rattling of your guards behind the two of you. The absence of conversation is comfortable, however, something you truly have not felt since the death of your Grandsire.

Beside you, Cregan practically radiates warmth which has you almost melting into his side. Despite the chill, his hands are uncovered, the palm of his hand rests on your arm, heating your covered skin beneath.

The sight of the rugged wooden doors causes you to stiffen almost immediately. The reality of your purpose for being at Winterfell cools your blood as it finally washes over you. You were here on behalf of your mother, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Swallowing uneasily, you attempt to calm your nerves.

Sensing your distress, Cregan leans closer to your frame. "Do not fret, Princess," He mutters kindly. "You have no one to convince except me—and I am already highly inclined to agree to your terms."

You do not spare your host a glance as your face burns. In front of you, the grand doors open, revealing a large hall and guests already rising for the two of you.

Your gaze glides over the bowing figures, all men, you notice. The only women in the hall were serving girls; stiffly standing at the ends of the room, pitchers full of presumably ale clutched in their hands.

Attempting to muster up a commanding presence was difficult when next to the Lord of Winterfell, for he commands the room with no effort. His men watch you as you continue to the other side. Their intense stares and built bodies making you nervous. Swords were strewn recklessly across their dining tables, bows and arrows litter the floor. In their eyes you were a defenseless babe crawling into a den of wolves.

The men in King’s Landing and Dragonstone were dangerous in a different way. Their sharp wit and web of lies could cut deep and kill. The men of the North, however, used their brute force and self-assured bravery to kill you just as dreadfully. Any one of these men could bloody you as you walk by them. This rattles you just as much as the plotting traitors back in King’s Landing does.

Taking a deep breath, you feel the soothing motions of Cregan's thumb tracing circles against your arm. The reassurance pulls you out of your spiral of thoughts. With your chin held high you continue to the front of the hall, the long wooden table already covered with food and goblets of wine and ale.

After a few words from both you and Cregan the feast begins and the once silent hall becomes almost deafening. There were plenty of jeers and jokes thrown around at your expense. If you had more fire in your blood like the rest of your family, you might have said something to stay their tongues.

You and Cregan make small talk, the two of you paying more attention to the plates on the table. By the time your appetite is sated the Lord of Winterfell had noticed your meek demeanor and timid glances at the drunk Northmen below.

"Pay them no mind, Princess," The warm light of the hall's hearth dance in Cregan's striking grey eyes. "These rowdy bastards lack decency after a drop of ale."

You scan Winterfell's great hall from your position at the high table. Cregan Stark's men were all in various states of disarray, though you suppose it’s only characteristic of Northerners. The room was loud, almost overwhelmingly so, with booming laughter and arguments that spanned across the tables.

"Not like Dragonstone, I presume?" At Cregan's soft yet baritone voice, heat creeps up your neck.

Your gaze turns to the Lord of Winterfell, a smile gracing his usually stoic face. "Not at all, my Lord. Dragonstone is more.."

"Boring?"

"Traditional," You finish, smile mirroring his own.

Cregan snorts. "Aye, you Southerners have quite the stick up the arse."

"Oh really now?" You lightly giggle, tilting your head as if to challenge the Northerner at your side. You drink from your goblet, the red wine sweet on your lips, eyebrows raised.

"Aye, Princess. I think you need a Northerner to invigorate your life down there."

You hum in response, the wine making your skin tingle. With your attention now solely on Cregan Stark, you feel yourself melting into comfort.

Cregan briefly pauses, looking into your eyes. They mirror an oncoming winter storm and you’re unable to look away.

“I have something to attend to, Princess. My men will escort you and your guards to your quarters.” He takes your hand in his, the delicate grip of such a strong man making you bite your bottom lip. “I will try to see you before the night ends.” With that, his lips meet your knuckles in a soft kiss.

Cregan heaves himself out of his seat, throwing you one last smirk before leaving you in the hall with your guards and the remaining feasting men.

With one last sip from your goblet, you allow yourself to be escorted to your chambers, tugging your fur cloak tighter around you.

The crescent moon is shining through your window when you hear three knocks on you door. Assuming that this late night visitor could only be Lord Stark, you rise from the bed, adorning the fur cloak your host had provided you earlier in the day.

The door creaks as you open it tentatively. Cregan stands at the threshold, wearing the same attire from the feast. You take note of the hint of pink on his cheeks and the red hue of the tips of his ears peeking out of his shoulder length brown hair. Whether this was a result of the North's bitter chill or something else, you do not know.

"Princess." He bows his head as he greets you.

"Lord Stark..." You breathe out, smiling at the man in front of you. "Is this visit based on the business of the Crown?"

"No, Princess, I just..." His low tone tapers off as he lifts his hand up in order to stroke you face. His fingertips feel warm against your skin. You wait with bated breath for his next move. Slowly, his fingertips trace down your delicate skin to hold your chin between his index and his thumb. He tilts your head up slightly. His stormy grey eyes never leave your own. "I just wanted to gaze upon your beauty once more before I fall asleep."

The maneuver has you practically trembling under your heavy furs. You wet your lips, his eyes only quickly following the movement before once again settling back on your eyes.

"I am happy to indulge in your desires...my Lord." You whisper, voice almost quivering.

"Sleep well, Princess," With that, Cregan removes his touch, though his warmth still lingers across your face. He bows once more before turning and walking down the stone corridor.

Slowly you close your chamber door, smiling lips pursed.

"Mother will be pleased." You sigh before sitting once more on your bed, thoughts of Cregan Stark dancing through your head.

•

[entitled-fangirl]

Absolutely not.

Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: Cregan isn't one for tradition.

Warnings: cursing, talks of sex, and consummating a marriage.

A/n: Based on this ask!

Masterlist

..............................................................

"Absolutely not."

The maester sighed and brought a hand to his forehead, "I understand your hesitation, my lord, but the people have requested it."

Cregan let out a forced chuckle, "Ah, and I should let all of the North watch me while I fuck my wife. I think not." 

"My lord, it is not ideal, I know-"

"They will learn their place," Cregan finally said as he put his foot down. "If they want a firm leader, then they must comply when he is firm."

Cregan began to walk away in a huff, but the maester followed behind, "It is common practice to have a witness to the consummation. So what if there are a few more than usual?"

" 'So what?' " Cregan paused in his step. " 'So what?' You believe I would let anyone in while I pleasure her? While she is vulnerable? If so, then you are a fool."

The maester opened his mouth, but Cregan had begun to walk away once more. 

…

Cregan swung away at a practice dummy with a wooden sword as his betrothed sat a few feet away with a book in her hand. 

"It's foolish, you know." Swing. "Thinking I would let them in." Swing. "Fuck the bedding ceremony." Swing. "Perhaps I will just not do it at all." Swing. "Show them that I set the rules." Swing. "If they wish it so badly, they may request it to my face." Swing.

She looked up from her book, "I didn't realize this bothered you so badly, my love."

He panted as he lowered his sword and looked to her, "And it does not bother you?"

"I suppose I haven't thought much about it. My entire existence it seems is to obey my lord husband."

"Even if I will that on you?"

"If he wants an audience of two, five, twenty." She shrugs, "If he wants to fuck me here in the courtyard- how can I refuse him?"

Cregan felt his jaw slack and the sword almost fall from his hand, "You believe so little in me?"

She sighs and sets her book down, "Do not put words into my mouth."

He dropped his sword and took steady steps towards her, "Do you believe that I would let such a thing happen? That I would let all of Winterfell see my wife so exposed?" 

He grew closer, "That I'd hike up your skirt to an audience? To let them watch as I trace my hands across your smooth skin…"

Now at the bench she was seated at, he bent down and placed a hand on either side of her body, trapping her in with his face close and his voice quiet but firm, "…and let them see what is mine?"

She felt her breath escape at his proximity now, looking into his bright eyes. "Cregan-"

"-Wrong." One of his hands grabbed her chin to pull her face to him, "I'd never let that happen."

He pulled her face the rest of the way, connecting their lips. 

She pulled away, "I am not yet your wi-"

"-Quiet," he growled as he connected their lips again. 

His hands moved to her waist, pulling her up to stand. Hers wandered up his chest to his face.

He pulled away for a moment, as if remembering something, "Forgive me, love, I'm filthy-"

She placed her fingers over his lips, "I do not care."

He let out a breathy chuckle and a smile.

…

Donned in his cloak with the promise to be taken into the Stark house and under the Stark sigil, she and Cregan began to walk up to the chambers.

The bedding ceremony. 

A group from the wedding followed behind, as per custom.

But as the two newly-weds neared the chamber, Cregan led her into the room and turned sharply in the doorway to glare at the others, "Well?"

One of them stepped forward, "My lord, the be-"

"I know my own customs," He snapped. "Why are you still here?"

"We're to-"

"Leave." He practically growled.

"My lord-"

The door slammed in their face. 

…

No one was allowed in the room, but all could tell it had been consummated well by the sounds that echoed down the thick stone walls of Winterfell.

..............................................................

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Is there a better place for a king to make an heir than on the iron throne? Aegon would be so into that 🥵🥵

I haven't posted a Aegon request in a moment! There is not enough of him on here

Warnings: 18+, smut, throne sex, p + v, dirty talk, unprotected sex

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were sitting at your desk, responding to a message received by raven from your father when there was a knock on the door. Setting down your quill, you stood and went to the door, finding Criston Cole on the other side. 

‘’Your Grace. The King is requesting your presence in the great hall,’’ Ser Criston informed you, his new Hand of the King pin proudly displayed on the left side of his breastplate.

‘’Thank you, Ser Criston.’’ You gave him a nod of acknowledgment. 

The guards guarding the doors bowed their heads to their Queen and opened the door for you. Inside, the room was lit with a number of torches and seemed larger than usual. Mayhaps the absence of court attendees gave this illusion. Straight ahead of the doors, at the very end of the room, was the ugly heap of swords where sat the man you loved. Although, sitting wouldn’t be the word you would employ to describe the way Aegon was sitting. He was practically sprawled in the throne, his back slouched against one side, with one leg draped lazily over the armrest and the other hanging down. The Conqueror’s crown sat atop his white head, and you were surprised it had not fallen. 

You walked down the length of the hall, your footsteps echoed off the stone walls.

You paused a few steps from the throne. ‘’You’re going to cut yourself sitting like that, my darling,’’ you warned, mindful of the sharp swords used to make this throne. 

It was known to all of Westeros that whoever rested upon it must be careful not to make any sudden motions or else risked injury or even death. That very cut on King Viserys had been the trigger and downfall into his sickness. You didn’t want that to happen to your King husband.

Aegon shrugged, nonchalant as always. ‘’The throne doesn’t fear me.’’ His eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and defiance as you approached. 

‘’Just be careful,’’ you said softly. ‘’The Seven Kingdoms cannot lose their King so soon. I cannot lose you so soon.’’ 

‘’I am not as fragile as my father. I sit very comfortably here.’’ Aegon reached a hand out to you. ‘’Come.’’ 

You climbed the few stairs and he shifted, moving his feet to the ground to sit properly before pulling you down with him and sitting you down on his lap. Aegon’s hands found home on your thighs, covered by your dress, and began to run teasing circles over with his thumb. 

A few days ago, the Great Hall was filled with people as you were crowned King and Queen, but now you were all alone. 

‘’I’ve missed you at the small council meeting,’’ he said, his tone suddenly tender. ‘’Listening to everyone moaning about money, criminality in the city, and alliances for hours makes me want to take myself out. I would rather spend my morning riding Sunfyre or stay in bed with you. Speaking of bed.’’ Aegon brought his lips close to your ear and half whispered. ‘’Do you remember what I said on my coronation day?’’ 

He brushed your hair to one side so that it exposed your neck, and placed a number of kisses there, causing you to smile at his sweet touch. 

You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body through his clothes. ‘’That Rhaenyra would get burned to a crisp before sitting on your throne?’’ 

‘’Yes,’’ Aegon agreed with a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss over your shoulder. ‘’But that was not what I was meaning.’’ 

You took a moment to think, trying to remember every conversation you had on the day of his coronation. He had shared his fears as a new King as you were helping him get ready and the pressure his grandsire, Otto Hightower, was putting over him. Removing him as Hand of the King was one of the best decisions Aegon made.  

And then it hit you. A desire he had voiced to you in the secrecy of your bedchamber with nothing but his crown on his head. 

You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘’Now?’’ 

Aegon grinned, and you felt yourself getting aroused at the thought of having him in the throne room — on the Iron Throne. It was probably blasphemy to the crown, but Aegon was the one wearing the crown. If he wants to have sex on the Iron Throne, he will. 

‘’There is no better place to create an heir than the throne he will one day sit on, is there?’’ he asked, one hand going up your torso to palm your still clothed breasts. ‘’I've been thinking about this since the Conqueror’s crown was put on my head.’’ 

‘’Your wish is my desire, my King,’’ you said, shifting so you were straddling him. Your new position was causing the skirt of your dress to bunch, but you ignored it. It was a matter of seconds before Aegon would push it up and get his hands between your legs. 

His eyes sparkled with lust at your words. This was exactly why Aegon picked you for wife and not the sweet daughter of a Lord his mother wanted him to. You were just as twisted as him in your fantasies. He loved how willing and eager you were to please him, to do crazy things with him, it fueled his desire even more. 

You crashed your soft lips against Aegon’s, his hands on your body tightening as he felt desire spread through his blood. It always surprised you how quickly he could get hard. He plunged his tongue into your mouth and fiddled with the laces of your dress, blindly figuring out how to loosen them and free your breasts. Taking all of your clothes off would be too time consuming, but he couldn’t have sex without having his hands on your breasts. That was simply not a possibility. 

Aegon broke the kiss briefly to speak. ‘’I need to touch you,’’ he groaned, pulling harder at the laces of your dress. 

You reached behind your back to help him out, and pulled the bodice of your dress down your body, revealing your naked breasts to him. Aegon's eyes devoured you, his gaze flickering over every inch of your skin. His thumb brushed over one of your pebbled peaks before pinching it, making you hiss. 

Aegon's eyes flicked up to meet yours as you scolded him, but his smirk only grew wider. He did it again, harder this time, before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, tending to your sensitive bud. A soft moan slipped from your lips as your fingers threaded through Aegon's hair, tugging lightly as he sucked and nibbled on your nipple. Each touch sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He growled softly as he felt your body respond to him. His free hand squeezed your other breast, kneading it roughly as his tongue flicked over your hardened peak.

You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him. ‘’Aegon,’’ you breathed, your voice a mix of need and impatience. 

His hand left your breast, trailing down your body, over the curve of your waist and hip, and finally slipping under the skirt of your dress. His fingers found your wet cunt, and he groaned against your skin. 

‘’Always ready for me,’’ he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers teased your folds, dipping inside just enough to make you gasp, but not enough to satisfy your growing need. ‘’Always so responsive.’’ 

You bucked your hips against his hand, wordlessly begging for more. It’s not been a full day since you last had sex, but your body was craving Aegon. 

Beneath you, you could feel him through his breeches, his cock hard and begging to be let out of its confine. You reached between your bodies, working on undoing the ties of his breeches, the sound of fabric shifting barely heard over the rapid beat of your heart. His cock sprung out, long and thick for you and you wasted no time directing it between your legs, needing him. 

You wrapped your hand around him, guiding his weeping tip towards your entrance. He lifted your skirts and grabbed your hips, lifting you slightly to help position himself. When his cock brushed against your entrance, and you both moaned at the contact. You sank down on him with one smooth motion, his cock stretching you and filling you up completely. The sensation was delightful. 

A sigh of pleasure left your pink lips as you lifted yourself nearly off of his cock before slamming down again. Aegon’s grip on your hips tightened, pressing you flush against his so your soft breasts were squished against his chest. He attached his mouth under your jaw, kissing and nibbling as you bounced on him.

Your movements were fervent, each rise and fall on Aegon's cock sending waves of pleasure through you both. 

‘’You like that, uh? Fucking yourself on your King’s cock,’’ he asked.

You grabbed Aegon’s shoulders for support, going faster. ‘’Yes,’’ you breathed, your breasts bouncing from your movement. 

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin, and echoing outside the halls. Being quiet was not something you had mastered yet. 

Feeling your legs starting to hurt from the pressing into the steel of the throne, Aegon reached under your dress to grab at your ass, fingers digging into your flesh, guiding you as he pounded into you. He reached deeper than you did by yourself, making you throw your head back with a cry. 

‘’Ah, yes! Oh Gods—’’ Your voice bounced off the walls, causing a flush tint to appear on the faces of the guards standing outside, hearing the echoes of your moans and groans. 

Your cunt tightened around him, Aegon’s name leaving your lips over and over again as his cock slammed into you. Your thighs trembled as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 

‘’I'm so close,’’ you informed your lover, feeling the coil of pleasure tightening in your core. 

‘’Then come for me.’’ 

His mouth crashed on yours as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles, pushing you closer to the edge. You moaned, your walls tightening around his cock, heightening the sensation as he continued to pound into you. The combination of your moans and the feel of your body milking him drove Aegon over the edge. With a deep groan, he released inside you, his warm seed filling you completely as your walls clenched around him, drawing out both of your climaxes.

Aegon’s head dropped on your collarbones as his body stilled, his crown falling from his head and clattering on the floor beside the throne. He laughed against your skin.

‘’You think this was enough to secure an heir, or do we need to schedule another round?’’ you asked, running a hand through his hair.

—

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[sleepymarimo]

𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤!

summary: the monster trio's reaction to hearing you say their name in your sleep pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader cw: none!

luffy

it was rare, but it happened. luffy had gone off to roughhouse with usopp and chopper on the deck, leaving you with his precious hat. the responsibility was heavy on your shoulders and you barely had time to ask if he was sure before he ran in the opposite direction, laughing and looking back at you with a grin. "i know you'll take good care of it!"

that was about an hour ago, and you had done your damn best to make sure that the sacred straw hat was secure and in prime condition.

at some point though, the gentle rocking of the thousand sunny along with the overcast weather had you nodding off. you fought to stay awake, but ultimately found yourself dozing off against the railing.

with the straw hat nestled in your arms, your head rolled to the side, you slept.

luffy ended up returning to your spot a few minutes later, eagerly yelling your name until his mouth slammed shut at the sight of you sleeping so peacefully with his straw hat. he seems a little confused at first, head tilting as he looked down at you. "hm? you're tired?"

a toothy grin forms on his face as he steps closer, squatting down so he was eye level with you. the sight of his hat in your protective embrace makes him feel especially warm and he knows he made the right choice in entrusting it to you. his hand reaches for the hat, but as soon as his fingers brush against it, your hold tightens. your brows furrow and you grumble something before your face softens once more.

"no..." you mumble, bringing the hat closer to your heart. "s'for luffy... gotta...take care of it."

when he hears your 'no', he wants to pout, because it's his hat! however, when he catches the rest of your muttered words, his expression shifts into one of utter joy. a gleeful chuckle rings through the air and he can't help himself from waking you.

his arms wrap around your sleeping form and bring you in for a bone crunching hug, a yelp of surprise leaving you as you're rudely awakened. "what? what happened?" you ask, still disoriented and confused.

"nothing!" luffy responds, taking the hat from your hands and slamming it onto your head with a child-like excitement. "let's go eat!"

zoro

you had a long day, worse than usual. stressed out and in need of some time to yourself, you made your way up to the crow's nest where you plopped down onto one of the workout benches. your ever racing mind, plagued with what ifs and unnecessary worry, eventually settles down enough for you to fall asleep as you turn onto your side and doze off.

a while later, zoro heads up there to do some training.

when he noticed you sleeping, zoro simply shrugged and headed towards some dummies so he could practice his three sword style. clearly you were just napping, and he wasn't going to interrupt or tell you to get out.

he gets a few hits in, deliberately making his stabs and swings a tad quieter in a bid to respect your sleeping arrangement, when he suddenly hears his name being called. thinking that he had been too loud, he sheathes his swords and lets out a disgruntled sigh. he could only be so quiet as he trained, and he assumed that you were gonna chew him out for waking you.

however, when he turns, he sees that your eyes are still shut. not only that, but your brows are furrowed and your once neutral expression is twisted into one of slight fear. he takes a few tentative steps toward you, unsure of how to handle whatever it is that's happening.

your breaths quicken. "stop it..." you whine, your body tensing slightly as you curl further in on yourself. "zoro... help..."

his brows shoot up in surprise when his name tumbles past your lips, heat creeping up his neck and to the tips of his ears. he feels awkward and out of place, though he can't deny the fact that he's flattered and a bit satisfied that, even in your sleep, you count on him to protect you.

he clears his throat, gaze sweeping across the crow's nest to make sure it was empty before hesitantly reaching a hand out. "oi, i'm here." he begrudgingly and affectionately grumbles, pink dusting his cheeks as his hand settled atop your head. "quit whinin'."

your response is almost immediate, your breaths evening out and your expression softening. he scowls and looks away, not believing that this was happening. yet, as he gets back to training, he makes sure to keep an ear out for you, occasionally talking to your sleeping self just so you could hear his voice. 

sanji

you didn't mean to fall asleep in the dining room.

something had you feeling restless, so you took it upon yourself to make a cup of tea before sitting at the dining room table to enjoy it. you didn't expect the tea to be so effective, yet here you were, arms crossed on the table and your cheek squished against the wood.

before the sun had a chance to peek over the horizon, sanji was up and preparing to head to the kitchen. with some extra plates and utensils in his hands that he brought from storage, he made his way down to the dining area.

when he notices you slumped over the table, his expression morphs into one of surprise and then to worry. he's quick to set down the silverware and make his way towards you, about to ask you what was wrong when he noticed your even breaths and peaceful expression.

ah, you were just sleeping. his eyes shine with amusement and admiration, his fingers twitching as he fights the urge to reach out and touch you. instead, he focuses his attention on your mug, his hand curling around the handle before bringing it up to his nose to take a quick inhale. the scent of chamomile and passionflower have him letting out a soft exhale of approval.

"you're gonna have to give me the recipe for this one, mon chérie." he smiles, taking a step back to head to the kitchen.

then, he hears it. a tired huff, as if you were debating with someone in your dream. "no... it's sanji... s'the best chef" you sleepily argue. "s'the best food... ever."

oh, he just melts. his head feels so light from your praise. he practically floats back to you, hearts in his eyes as he fights to keep his tone quiet. "mon chérie, do you really like my food so much that you dream about it?"

he continues to swoon over your sleeping self, his spirit light, when the sound of your grumbling stomach echoes throughout the dining hall. the blond is torn between waking you and preparing you something to eat.

he bends down slightly until he's at your level, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. his free hand plucks the cigarette from his lips and he gently brings his mouth to your ear, lightly saying your name. "what's your favorite breakfast?"

a happy, genuine smile forms on his face when you actually mumble out an answer. when you wake up and your favorite breakfast is served on a plate in front of you, it's like a dream come true.