#mademoiselle-red

[ralphlanyon]

kissing to get their attention for Ralph/Laurie!

It would be another long evening of writing reports and filling out forms for Ralph, Laurie thought, as he watched Ralph fuss around with the typewriter ribbon and straighten a formidable-looking pile of papers on his desk. Laurie had been as proud and excited as could be when Ralph received his long-overdue promotion to lieutenant-commander, but hadn't realized that being a naval officer entailed quite so much paperwork (and exceedingly tedious paperwork, from what Laurie could make out). There were some advantages, after all, to chucking the O.T.C., Ralph had remarked wryly.

The night after supper was a quiet one, punctuated by the sounds of Ralph occasionally muttering under his breath and clacking away on the typewriter (he had developed, over time, an efficient way of typing such that the slight hindrance posed by his injury was barely noticeable), while Laurie peacefully read a novel with his feet up on the couch and played with their puppy. But most of the time, his eyes were on Ralph. He liked observing Ralph at work, his back straight and head bent over, his side profile half-illuminated by the orange glow of the reading lamp, gravely and single-mindedly intent on the task set before him. In this form he would brook no distractions.

Inevitably at some point in the evening, however, the need for contact would become intolerable, and at these times Laurie would sidle up behind Ralph and throw his arms around Ralph's shoulders, murmuring, "Come and take a break, dear."

"I have ten more pages left," Ralph replied without looking up, his brow still furrowed in absolute concentration.

But Laurie was not one to give up easily when he had a certain goal in mind. He leaned forward, tucking his face in the crook between Ralph's neck and shoulder, and began raining soft, deliberate kisses along the side of Ralph's neck, while tugging loose Ralph's pristine shirt collar and eventually pressing his mouth to the prize of alluringly warm, bare skin that lay underneath.

"Really, Spud," Ralph admonished, in the cool, firm voice that reminded one that he had once been head prefect. Laurie almost yielded reflexively to that, until Ralph's skin under his lips shuddered, almost imperceptibly, in a way that betrayed the hard-hearted intentions of its owner.

"Mmph," was Laurie's unrepentant response.

"Spud, you are worse than the dog when he starts begging for a walk. Down, boy," Ralph laughed, as Laurie continued with his teasing conquest of Ralph's body, kissing and stroking and unbuttoning, in a surge of youthful giddiness. And yet, undeniably, Ralph's hands had come off the typewriter, in an apparent gesture of defeat.

[black-bentley]

3, 9, 17 for the book ask!

I've answered 3 here :D

9. Did you get into any new genres?

Hmm... I'm not sure I did, although I've read a few short story collections this year, which I don't normally go for, so I suppose that probably counts!

17. Did any books surprise you with how good they were?

I knew they'd be good, but I was surprised by just how much I enjoyed both Gaudy Night and Busman's Honeymoon by Dorothy L Sayers. I've loved basically all the Wimsey books, but those two are particularly excellent. I really didn't expect Temeraire to get into my brain quite as much as it did :DDD and Sagittarius Rising by Cecil Lewis is an absolute joy, it's so, so good.

Thanks for the asks! <33

[curapicas]

Could be! I think it's symbolic to his changing mentality that this heroine is in ep1 and the detective is in the last. (goes in line with the cosplaying for something he likes vs modelling as a transaction). Regardless of how he feels, I also think he's both.

Nice catch with the monsters, I'd completely forgotten then

Why I think Lu Guang's answer to the riddle was the detective:

It's given at the same time Cheng Xiaoshi gives his own for misdirection. The one who gave the same answer as CXS was his own dad, a guy that for all his failings, was loved enough by SYY to try and change his death node - WQ is also attached to him, therefore we expect/hope CWM has an ethical side to himself; meanwhile the one who gave the same answer as LG was Vein.

It happens right before LG bets on Vein being murdered on that room, an antithesis to CXS changing the past for what he hopes is for the best to those involved (note: I'm fine with the guy trying to fix a death node by dumping a death node on his bestie's murderer, just pointing out them as a partnership don't EVER do things intending to eliminate the bad guys, ya feel me?)

CXS' answer presumes innocence (more on how to me, this reflects on link click's overall messages under the cut), but LG is analytical; he'd take in consideration that the detective is poor and the animals had a coin;

the riddle states that "you" are the detective. LG spends yingdu burdened by knowledge and trying to solve a disappearance along with CXS; we also know LG feels guilt over what he's doing and CXS' death (which is why he was harsh on Vivian not deserving CXS' sympathy when they were on the phone). Therefore, he not only has been functioning as a detective throughout yingdu and link click as a whole, but also presumes guilt for himself (meanwhile Vein presumes that ppl have hidden intentions like he usually does, I guess)

In other words; LG answers he's the detective bc he not only takes the seemingly innocuous clues into consideration, but by the end of yingdu he feels guilty and burdened by what he has done and feels he has to do. A far cry from the 1st episode, where he identified with the noble heroine who goes into a doomed quest; now he thinks of himself as the sharp detective who would burn a forest down to get what he wants.

Now, personally I vibe with LG and CXS pointing to two different directions: LG makes the audience aware that amidst all of the tragedies in link click, someone is benefiting; there's a person or a group who doesn't care others are being stepped on, which has been the case of the antagonists so far, be it LX or the typical bullies; and LG puts himself among them, since he doesn't justify to himself he has noble intentions so it's okay that they won't help with Emma's investigation, for example.

CXS is the other side of link click: actually, bad things will happen without anyone meaning to, as is the earthquake, the noodle lesbians' divergence, the time nodes getting messed up by well-meaning intentions.

Note: The big takeaway here is that LG thinks it's the detective bc he thinks he's the detective and LG knows himself as guilty. Not that his answer was (or wasn't) the most logical/obvious and CXS' was too naive, I'm actually trying to prove that even if he answers purely using logic, LG is being emotional about it too! A correct answer is NOT the point of the riddle

btw, the positive spin of LG going from the tragic heroine to the cruel detective is that he no longer is passive about fate, and sees it as something that can be seized, which gives him hope

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

Villains with pink.

[marinawoznjuksworld]

[slaapkat]

the new Bastille album definitely suffers the problem of the songs being very samey-sounding (main complaint of the last album) but goddamn. i unfortunately have to admit the tone and subject of a couple of the songs has me feeling some kind of way.

[dommydraws]

ArtFight 2024 #35

Mona & Birdy ft. Prince for @prismaeya

[orangeblossomsintheair]

WRITTEN IN THE SAND | CS55

summary : He was too old for this. For you. For the way you looked at him like he wasn’t already years past the reckless abandon that seemed to define everyone else in this house. He shouldn’t have noticed the way your laughter sounded like sunlight, or how your smile seemed to tug at something deep in his chest.

wc : 8.5k

an : im a slow writer chat mb 😞 also nearly a month on this site!! tysm

“What’s the game plan for the summer?” Kika didn’t even glance up from her phone, one hand lazily stirring her drink with that tiny straw she always insisted on.

You were sprawled on a cushioned lounge chair in a swanky Monaco terrace bar, the Mediterranean sun heating your skin, but the breeze kept things just shy of unbearable.

You took a sip of your drink and smirked. “Seduce Carlos Sainz.”

Kika’s straw froze mid-stir. She blinked twice at her screen before slowly looking up, sunglasses sliding down her nose. “Sorry, could you run that by me again? Because I swear you just said you’re going to seduce Carlos Sainz, which is clearly a champagne-induced delusion.”

“Nope, you heard me loud and clear.” You leaned back, full of confidence. “Carlos Sainz. Mine. By the end of summer break.”

Kika blinked at you, deadpan. “Sweetheart, no offense, but you’ve been thirsting after this man since you were, what, 16? That’s six years of unrequited daydreaming.”

You squirmed slightly but held your ground. “Doesn’t matter."

"If he hasn’t noticed you by now, what’s your plan? Set yourself on fire in front of him?”

“Only as a last resort,” you said, deadpan.

She threw her head back, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink. “Oh my God, you’re serious. This isn’t a joke.”

“Dead serious.” You popped the cherry from your cocktail into your mouth like it was the period at the end of your sentence. “I’m done playing it safe. This summer is about action.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Action? You tripped over your own feet last week trying to order coffee. What are you going to do, hit him with your car and hope he falls for you during physical therapy?”

“Of course not.” You stood abruptly, tossing your straw onto the table with a dramatic flourish. “That’s plan B. Now come on.”

“Come where?” She squinted up at you, clearly unimpressed.

“To get the tools I need.” You grabbed her hand, yanking her out of her seat.

Ten minutes later, you dragged her into a boutique that was a Monet painting of excess. Silk curtains, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and the scent of overpriced jasmine perfume floating through the air.

A sales assistant appeared out of nowhere, all smiles and perfectly coiffed hair. “Bonjour, mademoiselle,” she greeted, eyeing your Chanel tote approvingly.

“Bonjour,” you said, breezing past her.

“Why are we here?” Kika asked, dodging a rack of bikinis that looked like they’d been designed with dental floss.

“Seducing my brother's teammate? Keep up, Kika,” you groaned, holding up a red bikini that looked like it belonged in a Bond movie. “Men are simple creatures. You can’t argue with science.”

“That’s not science, that’s objectification with a catchy slogan,” she deadpanned, plucking a neon green bikini off a nearby rack. “But sure, blind him with this and see how that works.”

You recoiled, snatching it from her and tossing it back like it burned. “Please. Focus. I need chic, sexy, and unforgettable. I need to haunt his dreams.”

“What you need,” she muttered, ducking under a display. “is a therapist.”

“And yet, here you are, enabling me.” You held up another bikini, black and sleek, with delicate gold accents. “This says, ‘I’m hot and I don’t care if you notice,’ right?”

Kika folded her arms, leaning against the counter. “It says, ‘I’m hot and definitely care if you notice but will pretend I don’t.’”

“Exactly!” you said, thrusting the bikini at her. “This is step one material.”

Kika frowned. “Step one material?”

“Yes. Step one: look absolutely irresistible,” you replied. “Carlos has seen me as Charles’s little sister for years. This summer, he’s going to see me as a woman. A very hot woman.”

“And you think this is going to do the trick? He’s a man, not a magpie.”

“Every detail matters. If I look stunning, he’ll notice me. If he notices me, he’ll talk to me. If he talks to me…”

“You’ll forget how to form a sentence?” Kika offered, smirking.

“...I’ll be charming and mysterious,” you continued, ignoring her. “Carlos loves a challenge. And I? I’ll be the challenge of the summer.”

She snorted. “You’re the challenge of my summer, that’s for sure.”

You flashed her a grin, unfazed. “Collateral damage.”

Kika raised an eyebrow, surveying your choices with a mixture of disbelief and mild concern. “You do know Charles is going to kill you, right? Or worse, he’ll tell your mother.”

“Charles doesn’t need to know,” you said confidently, grabbing a cover-up that was so sheer it might as well have been a polite suggestion of fabric and tossing it onto the pile.

“He’s going to know the second you start giggling like a schoolgirl,” Kika shot back.

You paused, giving her your most serious look. “I do not giggle. I smolder.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “You giggle. You giggle like someone told you tacos are calorie-free.”

Before you could respond, the sales assistant, who had been lurking in the background with a grin wide enough to rival the Mona Lisa’s, swooped in. “Vous avez fait un excellent choix, mademoiselle,” she said, beaming. “Très… sexy.” You made an excellent choice, miss

You flashed a smile back. “Merci, ma chère,” you said, tossing her an air kiss. “I do try.”

Kika groaned audibly. “What is that? French for, ‘Please don’t let my stupidity kill me’?”

“Not quite,” you replied breezily, adding a sheer cover-up to the pile. “But close enough.”

The assistant’s smile widened to terrifying proportions. “Peut-être vous voulez essayer ces sandales aussi?” She gestured to a pair of sky-high gold heels that looked more weapon than footwear. Maybe you want to try these sandals too?

You tilted your head, admiring the craftsmanship. “Oh, I absolutely do.”

Kika slapped a hand over her face. “I can feel my soul leaving my body.”

“Catch it,” you said, handing over your credit card. “We have work to do.”

The assistant handed you your shopping bags with reverence, her eyes glittering with admiration. “Vous êtes une inspiration, mademoiselle. Vraiment.” You are an inspiration, miss. Really.

“Merci beaucoup,” you said, winking at her. You turned to Kika, your heels clicking on the marble floor as you strutted toward the exit. “

Kika followed you out into the sun-drenched street, muttering under her breath. “Mark my words, Carlos Sainz is going to look at you and-”

“-see the one thing he can’t have,” you finished for her, sliding on your sunglasses.

“The one thing he can’t have is peace.”

You scoffed. “You’ll swallow your words when you’re sitting front row at my wedding.”

“To Carlos or Charles’s ghost?”

“Whoever makes it there first.”

—-

The next step was getting Charles to invite Carlos over the summer, which, thankfully, proved embarrassingly easy.

"Sœurette," Charles sang as he sauntered into the living room, lifting your feet off the couch with all the grace of a forklift before plopping down dramatically. Your legs ended up sprawled across his lap. "Comfortable, are we?"

“Move,” you said, giving his stomach a solid nudge with your heel.

“Ow- merde!” He rubbed his abs like you had mortally wounded him, throwing in some exaggerated groans for good measure. “You’re cruel. No respect for your poor frère.”

“What do you want?” you mumbled, not looking up from your phone.

“Wanna go to Ibiza with me?”

You finally glanced at him, raising a skeptical brow. Sure, you wanted to, but seducing Carlos was still an active operation, and time was of the essence. “Pass.”

“Wait, wait,” Charles interrupted, holding up a finger like he was about to offer you the cure for boredom. “I’m inviting some of the guys. Pierre, Carlos-”

He hadn’t even finished the sentence before you were already mentally booking your plane ticket.

“-and Lando,” he continued, oblivious to the fact you had stopped listening at “Carlos.”

You forced yourself to stay cool. No big deal. Act normal. Charles couldn’t know

“Hmm. Okay.”

His brows knitted. “That’s it? Okay? No arguing? No ‘what’s the catch’? You’re just saying yes?”

“Don’t make it weird, Charles.” You shrugged, scrolling on your phone like you were barely paying attention. “Now get off me, you oversized cat.”

“Excusez-moi, I’m the one providing the luxury vacation, and you’re kicking me?”

“I’ll kick harder if you don’t move.”

—-

Carlos almost didn’t recognize the woman chatting with Lando by the poolside when he arrived at the villa Charles had rented for their summer getaway.

He lingered by the sliding glass door, his suitcase forgotten at his side. The sun cast shimmering patterns on the pool’s surface, reflecting onto your skin in flashes that made him question whether he was still half-asleep from the flight.

You were gorgeous. Too gorgeous. Scandalously gorgeous. And suddenly, Carlos felt a flicker of betrayal. How could Charles not have warned him about your presence here?

A wave of jet lagged self-awareness hit him—rumpled T-shirt, unkempt hair, and dark circles under his eyes.

Definitely not the first impression he wanted to make, especially not in front of you.

You wore a deep red one-piece swimsuit with an open back, the kind of effortlessly elegant choice that made him wonder if you knew exactly how much attention you commanded.

Sunglasses perched delicately on your nose, you stood at ease, laughing lightly at something Lando said.

“Carlos!” His friend called out, waving lazily when he spotted him. “You made it!”

Your voice was bright and warm, carrying over the quiet splashes of water.

Lando, predictably, was soaking up your attention with his signature grin, and Carlos already felt the prickling need to intervene.

You turned at the sound, shifting your weight onto one leg. Though the sunglasses obscured your eyes, the faintly mischievous smile tugging at your lips was enough to throw Carlos off balance.

Dios mío.

Carlos straightened, brushing a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to look less like he’d been dragged off a plane.

He inhaled deeply, summoning whatever charm the flight hadn’t stripped away, and stepped forward, dragging his carry-on behind him.

Your smile widened, but you said nothing, tilting your head as if appraising him.

“Hey,” he greeted, nodding at Lando first before letting his gaze linger on you.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” His voice dipped slightly, sliding into that smooth, natural lilt he knew could win people over when needed.

“Right,” Lando cut in, either oblivious or deliberately sabotaging him. “This is-”

“Let him figure it out,” you interrupted, holding up a finger with a playful air.

Carlos blinked, momentarily thrown off, but a sly grin found its way onto his face as he leaned on the handle of his suitcase. “Is that how it is?”

“That’s how it is,” you replied smoothly, folding your arms.

Lando chuckled, glancing between the two of you as if he’d stumbled upon the first act of a drama he couldn’t wait to watch unfold. “Good luck, mate,” he said, clapping Carlos on the shoulder before wandering back toward the pool.

Carlos watched him go, then returned his attention to you. “Okay, give me a hint. Something to work with, no?”

You shrugged, adjusting your sunglasses. “You’ve got a whole week to figure it out. Make it count.”

Before he could counter, a loud, familiar voice broke through.

“Carlos!”

Carlos turned, spotting Charles striding toward him with an easy grin. His friend pulled him into a quick hug, slapping his back affectionately.

Then Charles’ gaze shifted to you. He gestured casually. “You remember my sister, right? She hasn’t been at the paddock much, but you’ve met her before.”

He turned back to you, eyes scanning for something familiar, something to anchor the dissonance in his mind. There it was: the teasing smirk, the air of quiet confidence. You were now barely suppressing laughter.

Carlos froze mid-handshake, his thoughts scrambling to process the bombshell.

Sister?

Oh, no.

Oh, god.

He just flirted with Charles’ sister.

“You’re-” he stammered, pointing at you like the gesture might piece things together faster.

“Oh,” you said lightly, dragging out the word with unmistakable glee. “I think he remembers now.”

Charles glanced between you two, clueless. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you replied too quickly, your smirk sharpening. “Carlos was just… introducing himself.”

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck, heat crawling up his face. “Right,” he muttered. “Nice to see you again.”

Your sunglasses slid down your nose just enough to reveal your eyes. Bright, amused, and entirely too focused on him. “I don’t know,” you said, voice like silk. “I feel like I’m meeting you for the first time, don’t you think?”

Lando’s loud laugh from the poolside made Carlos glance his way in exasperation.

But his real problem was standing directly in front of him.

Because now that he knew who you were, he also knew your age.

Twenty-one. And him? God, he was thirty. Nine years. Practically a decade.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

This wasn’t just an awkward misunderstanding; it was a moral minefield. He shouldn’t even be looking at you this way, not with the easy pull of your smirk still tattooed on his thoughts.

Carlos latched onto the excuse like a lifeline. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “Be right back.”

Charles, blissfully unaware, gave Carlos an out.

“Anyway,” he said, gesturing toward the house. “Go put your bags inside. Lando already claimed the biggest room, so you’re stuck with whatever’s left.”

Dragging his suitcase toward the villa, he could feel your gaze following him. Against his better judgment, he glanced back.

Carlos shook his head, muttering under his breath as he disappeared inside. He needed a cold drink, a cold shower. Anything to reset his brain.

You were still there, reclining on a lounge chair, the picture of confidence. A cocktail glass dangled from your fingers, the cherry swirling lazily in the liquid.

When your eyes caught his again, your smirk deepened, as if you knew exactly what chaos you’d caused.

This week was supposed to be about relaxing.

Instead, it was shaping up to be a survival test around you.

—-

Carlos had made his decision.

For the sake of his own sanity, and for the sake of his friendship with Charles, he was going to ignore you.

It was the only logical choice.

Because if he didn’t? If he let himself get caught up in whatever quiet game you seemed to be playing, he knew it wouldn’t end well.

You were too young, too vibrant, too untouchable. Like sunshine in a bottle.

He was too old for this. For you. For the way you looked at him like he wasn’t already years past the reckless abandon that seemed to define everyone else in this house.

He shouldn’t have noticed the way your laughter sounded like sunlight, or how your smile seemed to tug at something deep in his chest.

He’d lock it all down.

So that was it. He’d be polite, civil even.

But anything more than that? Off the table. No lingering glances. No indulging in the spark of mischief behind your eyes. No letting his thoughts drift to places they shouldn’t when you smiled his way.

It was a good plan.

Unfortunately, plans didn’t account for things like the spontaneous game of cards that had started on the patio that night. Or the dangerous way the stakes had escalated as the hours passed.

“What about strip poker?” Pierre had suggested with a mischievous grin, his words slurred just enough to suggest he’d had one drink too many.

Everyone had laughed, the idea absurd enough to feel harmless.

But somehow, after a lot of ribbing from Lando and an alarming lack of objections from anyone else, the game had actually started.

But tonight? Tonight, his carefully honed poker face was utterly useless.

Carlos had always considered himself good at poker.

Calm, calculating, unreadable. Qualities that served him well on the track and at the card table.

You were to blame.

Sitting across from him at the patio table, with your head tilted and a soft, amused smile tugging at your lips, you were impossible to ignore.

The warm glow of the overhead lights softened your features, and the lazy way you shuffled your dwindling pile of chips made it clear you weren’t taking the game half as seriously as he was.

You didn’t have anything.

Across from him, you hesitated, your lips pressing together as you studied your hand.

The chips in front of you were dangerously low, and Carlos could see the flicker of indecision in your eyes.

You sighed, reaching for your chips, but Carlos cut you off. “Raise,” he said, pushing more into the pot.

Your gaze snapped to his, your brows furrowing. “You’re raising now?”

“Got to keep it interesting,” he said lightly, masking the tightness in his chest.

You tilted your head, clearly suspicious, but you matched his bet anyway, your hand trembling slightly as you tossed the last of your chips in.

The others at the table were too busy bickering to notice the undercurrent between the two of you.

Lando, already down to his boxers, was arguing with Charles over the merits of bluffing, while Pierre leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself for someone whose pants were in the discard pile.

Carlos barely noticed them.

When the cards were revealed, his pair of eights was enough to beat your pitiful hand. A mismatched collection of low cards that hadn’t even come close to forming a straight.

“Guess that’s it for me,” you said, your tone light but resigned. You reached for the hem of your sweater, clearly ready to pull it off and join the ranks of the semi-dressed.

Carlos acted before he could think.

“Wait,” he said sharply, drawing everyone’s attention. “I fold.”

Pierre frowned. “You can’t fold. The round’s over.”

“Then I forfeit,” Carlos said, tugging his shirt over his head in one swift motion. The cool night air prickled against his skin, but he ignored it, tossing the shirt onto the growing pile in the center of the table.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured.

Carlos shrugged, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “I’m just keeping things fair.”

Charles raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and the game moved on.

It kept happening.

Every time you were on the verge of losing, Carlos found a way to sacrifice himself instead. He’d bluff too hard, bet too high, or simply fold when he was holding a decent hand. It was reckless and obvious, at least to you, but no one else seemed to notice.

By the time Carlos was down to just his jeans, he realized he was playing a very dangerous game.

“Bold move, mate,” Lando said, grinning as Carlos slid his last few chips into the pot.

“Desperate,” Pierre corrected, his tone smug.

Carlos ignored them, his gaze flicking to you. Your stack of chips had grown considerably, thanks to his strategic losses, but you weren’t gloating. If anything, you looked concerned, your brow furrowing slightly as you studied him.

“Carlos,” you said softly, barely above a whisper.

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

You hesitated, then glanced down at your cards. The silence stretched as you debated your next move, and Carlos could see the exact moment you decided to fold.

Not this time.

“I raise,” he said, pushing his remaining chips into the pot.

Your eyes widened. “Carlos-”

“Call it,” he said firmly, his voice low.

The others were too busy watching the pile in the center of the table to notice the exchange between you two.

You sighed, finally revealing your hand. It was better than his, but not by much. He grinned as he tossed his own cards down, leaning back in his chair with a shrug.

“Guess that’s it for me.”

Charles groaned, muttering something under his breath about bad decisions, but Carlos didn’t hear him. His focus was on you, on the way your lips parted slightly in surprise, on the way your gaze lingered as he stood and pulled his jeans off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

“Next round?” Pierre asked, shuffling the deck.

Carlos shook his head, grabbing his shirt and tossing it at Pierre’s face. “I’m out.”

He glanced at you one last time before walking inside, his pulse racing.

—

When Carlos woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, warm and golden against the soft white of the sheets. The second thing he noticed was the blissful lack of a hangover, despite the absurd amount of wine Pierre had insisted on pouring last night. Small mercies, he supposed.

The faint sound of clinking dishes drew his attention. Throwing on a shirt, Carlos padded out of his room and into the kitchen, where he found Charles leaning against the counter, one hand wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, the other scrolling through his phone.

His hair was a mess of sleep-tousled curls, and his voice still carried the rough edges of morning as he glanced up.

“Morning,” Charles said, holding up his mug in greeting. After a beat, he added, “Thanks, by the way… for last night.”

Carlos froze mid-step, frowning as he tried to piece together what Charles meant. “Thanks for what?”

Charles finally looked up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You know,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his coffee mug. “For saving my sister a few dozen times.”

Carlos’ stomach dropped. “What?”

“You know,” Charles repeated, tilting his head slightly as if it were obvious. “During poker.”

“Oh.” Carlos shifted awkwardly, his fingers tightening on the toothbrush he was holding. He forced a casual shrug. “It’s fine. I’m just bad at poker.”

Charles snorted, setting his mug down on the counter. “Don’t give me that. I’ve seen you win against professionals before. People who actually know what they’re doing.”

Carlos busied himself with turning on the tap, wetting his toothbrush like it was the most fascinating task in the world. “I guess it just wasn’t my night,” he said lightly, though the way his pulse quickened betrayed him.

“Hmm,” Charles hummed, leaning back against the counter as he studied him. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of his gaze made Carlos’ neck prickle.

“You’re imagining things,” Carlos said, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Charles chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re not very subtle, you know. Every time she was about to lose, you suddenly went all in on terrible hands. It was painful to watch.”

Carlos groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It wasn’t like that,” he muttered, though even to his own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

“Sure it wasn’t,” Charles said, his tone dry. He took another sip of his coffee, his eyes narrowing slightly over the rim of the mug. “You know, you’re lucky I trust you.”

Carlos froze again, the words hanging heavy in the air.

“Trust me?” he echoed carefully.

“Yes,” Charles said simply, setting his mug down and crossing his arms. “Because if it were anyone else, I’d be having a very different conversation right now.”

Carlos blinked, unsure how to respond. He could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck, and for a moment, he considered denying it outright. But Charles wasn’t stupid. And Carlos wasn’t a good enough liar to get away with it.

So instead, he sighed, setting his toothbrush down and leaning against the counter opposite Charles.

“Look,” he began, keeping his voice low. “I’m not trying to... I mean, it’s not like that.”

Charles raised an eyebrow.

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe it’s a little like that,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I wasn’t. Nothing’s happening, alright? I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Charles studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to Carlos’ surprise, his lips quirked into a small, knowing smile.

“I know,” he said simply.

Carlos blinked. “You... know?”

“Yes,” Charles said, his tone light but firm. “That’s why I’m not threatening to kill you right now.”

Carlos let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks for that,” he said dryly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Charles warned, his smile fading. “I trust you, Carlos, but I also trust her. And if you do anything to make her upset, I will kill you.”

Carlos nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Understood.”

Charles nodded once, apparently satisfied, before grabbing his mug and heading for the door.

—

“Hey, sœur- what the fuck is that?” Charles called out from where he lounged on the sofa, still half asleep. His eyes were fixed on your bikini. “Is that... dental floss?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, adjusting one of the straps. “Non, idiot. It’s a bikini. Fashion. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

He scoffed, leaning back, crossing his arms. “Fashion? Ça? Ça, c’est un crime. Who sold you that? A two-for-one deal with a pack of gum?”

“Ha ha. Très drôle,” you said dryly, walking past him toward the beach. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, monsieur modesty police.”

Charles held up his hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Okay, okay. But when the waves steal that little string you call swimwear, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Bonne chance.”

“Pfft,” you muttered, waving him off. “I’ll be fine.”

But, as you made your way down the steps to the sand, something felt odd. Charles hadn’t fought you on it.

No complaints about ‘covering up’ or embarrassing remarks about ‘respectability.’ No last-minute insistence on changing into something more “appropriate.” It was... new.

And oddly suspicious.

Wading further in, you let out a satisfied sigh, the gentle waves lapping at your legs. You dove under the water, resurfacing with a triumphant gasp.

You pushed the thought aside as you let the warm sand squish beneath your toes. The salty breeze tossed your hair, and the ocean called to you.

You dipped a toe into the water, pleased to find it perfectly cool.

For a while, you floated peacefully, content. Until one particularly aggressive swell caught you off guard.

You felt it immediately.

The tug of the water.

The loosening of straps.

Panic shot through you as you scrambled to grab the top of your bikini, but the slippery fabric slipped through your fingers and was swiftly carried away by the current.

You had two options: wade out and grab it, hoping no one was around to witness your embarrassing half-naked sprint… or stay hidden and pray it washed back on its own.

“Oh, merde! Non, non, non!” you hissed under your breath, frantically cupping your breasts as you scanned the empty beach for help.

It was still early. Too early for anyone else to be up and running and save you from this mortifying situation.

Your cheeks burned as you stood there, half-submerged in the water, desperately trying to figure out a plan.

Option one was looking more appealing until you heard the soft crunch of footsteps on sand.

Carlos.

Of course, it was Carlos.

Because fate had a sense of humor, and apparently, you were its favorite punchline.

He ambled out of the villa, a towel slung lazily over his shoulder, his dark curls sticking up like he’d just rolled out of bed. His face was adorably grumpy, the pout of someone who hadn’t had coffee yet. And then his gaze landed on you.

He froze.

You froze.

You tried to act casual. Well, as casual as one could while half-submerged, hugging their chest like they were reenacting a dramatic shipwreck scene.

Carlos’s frown deepened, concern flickering across his face as he took a hesitant step closer. “Are you… drowning?”

“Not drowning,” you chirped, your tone overly bright. “But thanks for checking!”

“Oh.” His voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at you. “Right. Uh… do you- want me to…?”

His brow furrowed. “Then why are you…?” His words trailed off as his eyes drifted to the water, where your bikini top bobbed lazily with the current.

Realization dawned like a slap, his cheeks instantly turning a satisfying shade of pink.

“Be my hero, Carlos,” you said with exaggerated sweetness, gesturing dramatically toward the water. “Save my dignity before the ocean claims it forever.”

He stared at you for a moment, his lips twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath before tossing his towel onto the sand and wading into the water.

You tried not to watch him, but… well. You were stuck here, and it’s not like there was much else to look at. The way his muscles flexed, the water slicking over his skin.

It was distracting. Infuriatingly distracting.

He resurfaced a moment later, holding up your bikini top like a trophy.

“Got it,” he called.

“Oh, congratulations, Captain of the Swim Team.” You clapped. “Now bring it here before someone else decides to take a morning stroll.”

Carlos swam back, wading into shallower water as he handed it to you. His smirked when you snatched it from his hand.

“Need help putting it back on, princess?”

You raised a brow. “Funny. Actually, yes.”

That wiped the smirk off his face.

“…What?”

You turned your back to him, holding out the tangled strings over your shoulder. “It’s all knotted. Be a gentleman, Carlos.”

He made a strangled sound. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope. Chop-chop.” You wiggled the strings for emphasis.

Carlos muttered something in Spanish, but he stomped through the water toward you anyway. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him as his hands carefully took the strings.

His fingers skimmed over your bare skin, and your breath caught in your throat. Sharp and shallow.

“Stop fidgeting,” Carlos muttered, his voice rough with concentration.

“You’re taking forever.”

“It’s not exactly easy tying this thing without looking.”

“Look, then.”

Carlos froze.

The silence stretched.

You could feel his breath behind you, hot against the curve of your neck.

Slowly, deliberately, his hands tightened around the strings. Not painfully, just firm enough to make you gasp and spin around.

“Carlos!”

He didn’t flinch.

His dark eyes locked on yours, sharp and unreadable. Then, with a darkness you recognized, his gaze flicked to your lips and lingered.

Too long.

Your pulse stuttered.

“Carlos,” you warned, softer this time.

He didn’t move. Neither did you.

And then it happened.

His mouth crashed into yours, hot and demanding.

You barely had time to gasp before his arms wrapped around your waist, yanking you flush against him.

For a moment, the world dissolved. The waves, the sun, the beach. All of it disappeared beneath the heat of his kiss.

And then he pulled back, breaking the moment with a frustrated groan.

“We can’t do this,” Carlos said, his hands still gripping your waist.

“Sure we can.” You grinned, breathless, leaning closer. “We’re already doing it.”

His grip tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself. “I’m too old for this. For you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re thirty, not eighty.”

“That’s not the point,” he snapped, his voice rough. “You… You deserve someone younger. Someone who-”

“Someone who what?” you interrupted, your eyes narrowing. “Someone who’s scared of me? Who wouldn’t be able to handle me?”

“Someone who doesn’t know better,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to your lips again.

You softened, leaning closer. “Maybe I don’t want someone who doesn’t know better.”

Carlos let out a strangled laugh, shaking his head. “You’re going to ruin me, you know that?”

“Good,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his.

For a moment, he gave in, his mouth claiming yours again, desperate and unrelenting.

But then he tore himself away, his chest heaving as he stepped back, the water lapping at his thighs.

“This is a bad idea,” he said, his voice rough.

“Carlos,” you said softly, stepping toward him.

His hands came up, stopping you. “You don’t get it. I can’t just-” He gestured between the two of you, struggling to find the words. “If this goes wrong…”

“It won’t,” you said firmly. “You’re overthinking it.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you, torn between caution and temptation.

“God help me,” he muttered before pulling you back into his arms, kissing you like he’d never stop.

“Oh, please. You like it.”

That did it.

Carlos groaned, a raw, frustrated sound, and suddenly his hand was in yours, gripping tight.

“Come on.”

“Where are we-?”

“Somewhere with fewer witnesses.”

You laughed, breathless and exhilarated, stumbling after him as he dragged you toward the rocky outcropping at the edge of the beach.

“Oh, now you’re worried about witnesses?”

Carlos shot you a look over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m not tying your bikini back on twice.”

You snorted. “Coward.”

“Keep talking, and I’ll leave you naked out here.”

“Oh, threats!” You giggled, letting him pull you behind the rocks, the world disappearing behind towering stone and crashing waves.

And then he was on you again.

No hesitation, no teasing.

Pinned against the rough stone, your body trembling in Carlos’s firm grip, his mouth crushed against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

His hands slid over your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body searing into yours.

He kissed like he had all the time in the world. Like he was determined to take every last bit of air from your lungs.

You gasped, fingers clutching at his shoulders as he backed you harder into the rock, the scrape of it barely registering against the dizzying sensations he drew from you.

His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, to the tender spot just below your ear, and you shivered as his teeth scraped lightly over your skin.

“God, Carlos-” you whispered, but the words broke off into a gasp when his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you higher against him.

“Mm.” His lips curved against your throat, and he hummed low, a sound filled with lazy amusement. His mouth worked along your neck, deliberate and unhurried, leaving your skin flushed and tingling.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes roamed over you.

Your swollen lips, your heaving chest, your thighs trembling where they rested against his hips. He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curving up, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

“Has anyone ever made you come with their mouth before?” he asked though he looked as though he already knew the answer.

The heat in your face intensified, your breath catching as his hands wandered down your thighs, teasing the edge of your bikini bottoms.

You tried to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, and all you managed was a small shake of your head.

His smirk deepened, a low chuckle escaping him as he brushed his thumb over your flushed cheek. “Didn’t think so,” he murmured. “You’re so damn pretty when you’re flustered. Cute.”

Your hips instinctively arched toward him, but he didn’t rush. He held you steady, hands firm but gentle, guiding you with a patience that only heightened the ache between your legs.

His lips found your collarbone, kissing and nipping lightly, as though savoring every inch of you.

When he finally moved between your legs, the sight of him looking up at you from between your thighs sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through you.

His hands spreaded you open with a careful precision that made your heart race. Carlos nudged you higher against the rock, shifting you into position, gaze sweeping over you like he was memorizing every detail.

“You’re shaking already,” he said softly, his voice edged with amusement as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

You whimpered, fingers tangling in his dark hair as his lips moved closer, teasing, never quite giving you what you wanted.

His stubble scraped lightly against your sensitive skin, making you shiver, and when his breath fanned over your core, you nearly bucked against him.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling, desperate.

Carlos’s low hum vibrated against your skin, and he pressed another kiss to your inner thigh, his smirk audible in his tone. “So needy,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Then, without warning, his mouth was on you.

The first long, deliberate swipe of his tongue over your clit drew a sharp cry from your lips, your back arching off the rock.

He didn’t falter. His tongue worked you with slow, measured precision, every flick and circle designed to draw you closer to the edge.

You tried to move, to grind against him, but his grip on your thighs tightened, holding you firmly in place.

He was relentless, alternating between soft, teasing licks and harder, more focused strokes that made your vision blur.

“Oh, f-fuck-” you gasped, your voice breaking, your fingers tugging harder at his hair.

He didn’t respond, didn’t lift his head, just let out a soft, pleased sound that sent vibrations through you, his mouth working you even harder. His fingers joined in, slipping inside you with ease, curling just right, hitting a spot that made you cry out.

The tension coiled tight in your belly, your entire body trembling as he brought you closer and closer. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic. Just steady, unshakable control, like he knew exactly what you needed before you did.

It was overwhelming.

The pressure, the heat, the way his tongue and fingers worked together. It all built into something you couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold back even if you tried.

Your body tensed, and with a broken moan, the wave crashed over you, leaving you shuddering, your thighs clamping around his head as he worked you through it.

Carlos didn’t stop until you were nothing but a trembling, breathless mess, every last tremor wrung from you.

Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening, his chin wet with you.

He lifted his head, hands brushing gently over your thighs as if to ground you.

He leaned in, his mouth finding yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that left you dizzy all over again. The taste of yourself on his lips only heightened the intimacy, the rawness of it.

“First time for everything, huh?” he murmured against your mouth, his tone low and teasing, though his eyes were warm, almost soft.

Your breath came in shallow gasps, your body still trembling, and as you looked at him, at the way he gazed at you with that infuriating, knowing smirk, you knew you were ruined.

You barely recognized your own voice when you whispered, “Fuck me.”

His eyes found yours, dark and hungry, his control fraying at the edges. For a brief moment, he stayed still, as though restraining himself, the tendons in his neck taut, his jaw clenched.

Carlos had you against the rock again in seconds, his hands firm on your thighs, his body pressing into yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. He moved without teasing this time, his lips crashing into yours.

Your fingers gripped his shoulders, your nails biting into the hard muscle beneath his skin as he angled you higher against the rock.

The rough scrape of it bit into your back, but the discomfort was drowned out by the searing warmth of him, his mouth moving down your jaw to your neck.

You tried to gasp his name but he didn’t give you time to finish.

He lifted you higher, spreading your thighs wider around his hips. The strength in his hands was almost dizzying, his grip unyielding as he shifted your body to his liking. When his lips trailed down your throat, sucking hard enough to leave marks, your head fell back, exposing more of your skin to him.

His swim trunks were gone in a moment, and when you glanced down, your breath hitched at the sight of him.

Thick, hard, and impossibly big, he stood there like he was made to ruin you. The sheer size of him sent a shiver through your body, heat pooling low in your belly as your thighs clenched involuntarily.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his tone low but soft, the edge of a smile playing at his lips as he reached for you again. “Relax, baby. I’ll make it fit.”

Your breath stuttered, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance. The first push was slow, almost gentle, but the stretch was immediate, sharp, and overwhelming.

“Carlos,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your body struggled to take him.

“You can take it.” His jaw clenched as he pushed in another inch. “Just breathe, baby. Let me in.”

You did, your breaths coming in shallow pants as he fed you inch by inch. The stretch was nearly unbearable, your body clenching around him as if trying to resist.

He groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder, hands steady on your hips as he worked himself deeper.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice strained as though the effort of holding back was physically painful. “So perfect.”

The fullness was overwhelming, the sheer size of him stretching you beyond anything you thought possible. He didn’t rush, didn’t force it, but every inch was a challenge, your body trembling as it adjusted to him.

Finally, he was fully seated inside you, the press of his hips against yours sending a jolt of pleasure and relief through your body. For a moment, he stayed still, his chest heaving against yours, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly you knew you’d feel the bruises later.

“Fuck,” he growled, his voice rough, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re so perfect. Made for me.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

Your body stretched and full in a way that left you dizzy.

The ache was sharp but fading quickly, replaced by the thrum of pleasure that sparked with every small movement.

Then he began to move.

His hips pulled back slowly, the thick length of him dragging against your walls before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep.

The sensation was electrifying, your body tightening around him as he set a steady, deliberate rhythm.

Each thrust was measured, controlled, as though he was determined to make you feel every inch of him.

The pressure was unrelenting, his cock hitting spots inside you that sent waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as his pace quickened, the strength of his thrusts leaving you gasping.

The rock behind you scraped against your skin with every movement, but the sting was nothing compared to the pleasure building inside you.

Carlos shifted, lifting you higher against him, angling his hips to drive deeper. The new position made you cry out, your head falling back as the sensations intensified, every nerve ending in your body alight.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough, his hands tightening on your hips as he moved faster, harder.

The fullness, the stretch, the relentless rhythm. It was too much and not enough all at once. Your body trembled, your thighs shaking around his waist as the tension inside you coiled tighter, threatening to snap.

“Carlos,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your hands fisted in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Come for me,” he growled, his hips slamming into yours with unrelenting force. “Come on, be a good girl and come for me.”

His words sent you spiraling. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, your entire body trembling as you shattered around him.

Your cries filled the air, your walls clenching tight around him as the release ripped through you.

Carlos groaned, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release. His thrusts turned erratic, desperate, and with a final, shuddering moan, he buried himself deep, his release spilling into you in a rush of heat.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the crash of the waves a distant echo.

His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle now as they smoothed over your thighs, grounding you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded faintly, your lips curving into a small, breathless smile. “I’m perfect,” you whispered.

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice tinged with both amusement and awe.

“Then you’ll die happy,” you teased, your fingers brushing lightly over his jaw.

He smiled, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow, tender, and unhurried.

—-

Carlos insisted on carrying you back to the villa, effortlessly lifting you into his arms and wrapping a towel around you to shield you from the cool evening air.

You tried to protest, laughing half-heartedly while squirming a little in his hold, but his arms only tightened around you, pulling you closer.

The warmth of his body against yours was a welcome contrast to the crisp early morning air, and despite your teasing resistance, you felt a pull of affection.

“Carlos, no, seriously. I’m fine,” you said, attempting to push lightly against his chest. “You don’t have to carry me like this.”

“Shh,” he murmured, adjusting his grip to make sure you were even more comfortable, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not fine. I just fucked you, and so I’m taking care of you. Aftercare, baby. So stop fussing.”

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment. “Carlos, seriously. Charles is going to murder you if he sees-”

Carlos’ grin only widened, a spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. You could feel the confidence radiating off of him as he held you effortlessly, his voice dropping lower, laced with amusement. “Charles already knows.”

Your brows shot up, a mix of surprise and confusion flooding through you. “Wait, what? He knows?”

Carlos’ grin softened slightly, the playful edge in his tone giving way to a hint of sheepishness. "Yeah… Poker night.”

You blinked, the realization dawning slowly but surely. “Poker night?” You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. “Oh my god, you told him?”

“Well, he kind of guessed. And then, the next morning, he gave me the talk.”

You stared at him for a moment, blinking as the full weight of the situation sank in. “The talk? That talk?”

“The one and only.”

You snorted. “I can't believe you let him talk to you like that.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. “Trust me, I wasn’t about to argue with him.”

You nestled into his chest, feeling the warmth of his body, and smiled up at him. “You’re lucky I don’t have a talk with you myself.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Oh? You’d have the talk with me too?”

You leaned in closer. “Maybe later,” you said softly, the affection in your voice undeniable.

Carlos’ grin softened as he held you just a little tighter. “I’ll be waiting for it, cariño.”

—-

Hours later, Lando and Pierre stumbled into the living room, bleary-eyed and still caught in the haze of sleep.

They froze in the doorway, blinking in surprise at the sight before them.

You and Carlos were both fast asleep, tangled together on the couch, your head resting comfortably against his chest. His arms were draped around you, one hand resting lightly on your waist, the other tangled in your hair as you slept soundly.

Pierre raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin as he cast a glance at Charles, who was sprawled across the couch like he had nowhere else to be.

Charles didn’t even look up, clearly at ease with everything happening. Pierre nudged him lightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re okay with this?” he asked, voice low but tinged with disbelief. “I mean, just like that? No big deal?”

Charles didn’t stir, stretching out lazily as if the whole situation was perfectly normal.

He met Pierre’s gaze with a smirk, the kind that only came with complete indifference to drama. “Are you seriously asking me that?” he drawled, as if the question were almost laughable. “Better than any of you, I’ll tell you that much.”

Lando, however, was having none of it.

He threw his hands up in mock exasperation, his dramatic flair coming to the surface even as he tried to stifle a yawn. “Hold up, hold up!” He pointed an accusing finger at Carlos, his voice raising slightly, though still laden with sleepiness. “I can’t even flirt with her without getting death threats, but Mr. Smooth Operator here gets to just waltz in and- what? -sweep her off her feet? No questions asked?”

Carlos stirred slightly at the noise, his arms tightening around you instinctively as he shifted to get more comfortable. His voice was low, heavy with sleep, but there was an undeniable warmth to it as he spoke, still gazing down at you with affection. “That’s pretty much it,” he muttered, the hint of a lazy chuckle rumbling in his chest as he tightened his hold on you just a little more.

Pierre shook his head slowly, blinking as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “So… this? This is serious?” he asked, voice almost whispering as though not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment.

Carlos let out a soft sigh, the sound barely audible as he pressed his cheek gently against your head, completely content in the quiet. His eyes fluttered open, and he met Pierre’s gaze with a slow, sleepy smile.

“Trust me,” he started, barely awake. “There’s more to figure out, but this?” He paused, glancing down at you, his eyes soft with affection. “This is happening.”

—-

Permanent taglist :

@papichulomacy @alilcloudy @lilorose25

[sirxaibs]

˚₊✩‧₊ Oh bet? ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Vinsmoke Sanji X Reader

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Synopsis: He flirts? you flirt? he falls in love first? you fall just as much

WARNING!- he a FREAK in a weird way not in my present mic way. But he’s still a gentleman ig

This is explicit content so viewer discretion is advised. It’s not my job to babysit. If you’re not comfortable or know you shouldn’t be reading adult content then think again before reading.

The Baratie was a strange place. A floating restaurant filled with rowdy sailors, the scent of sizzling meats and freshbaked bread hanging in the air. It wasn’t the worst place you’d been, but definitely not the fanciest either. Still, Luffy was practically vibrating in his seat, excited about the food, while Nami looked ready to knock him out if he tried to steal her drink again. Usopp was muttering about how a “great captain” should be treated to the finest dining experience, and Zoro? Zoro just looked half asleep, arms crossed over his chest.

Luffy, practically drooling already, clapped his hands together. “This place smells amazing! Let’s eat!”

“Try not to embarrass us,” Nami sighed, flicking him on the forehead.

Zoro scoffed, arms crossed. “Tch. Fancy place for the middle of the ocean.

Usopp adjusted his goggles, scanning the crowd. “This place looks expensive… Maybe I should tell them I’m a world famous captain. Might get us a discount.”

You chuckled at their antics, but your attention was quickly drawn to the smooth figure gliding through the restaurant. A blonde waiter in a sharp black suit moved effortlessly between tables, a tray balanced perfectly in one hand as he set down a dish with practiced ease. He bowed slightly, his voice rich and honeyed.

“For you, madam, a meal as exquisite as yourself.”

The customer giggled, clearly smitten, but then his gaze lifted. And landed on you. For a moment, he just stared. Then, as if the world around him faded, the tray in his hand clattered to the floor, dishes shattering. The restaurant hushed. You blinked. He didn’t even react to the mess, his eyes locked onto you like he had just seen a goddess descend from the heavens.

“Oh. Mon dieu…” His voice was barely a whisper.

Luffy tilted his head. “Huh? What’s wrong with him?”

He came to an abrupt stop at your table, eyes widening just slightly before he swept into a dramatic bow. “Forgive me, mademoiselle, but I must ask,” He straightened, flashing a devastatingly smooth smile. “how is it that the sea has yet to claim a jewel as radiant as yourself?”

You blinked. Luffy, mid bite of stolen bread, tilted his head. “Huh?”

Nami sighed. “Oh great. One of these types.”

Sanji didn’t even acknowledge her. His focus was entirely on you, as if no one else at the table mattered. “Truly, it is an injustice that you have not been placed upon a throne where only the finest delicacies are brought to you.” He took your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a featherlight touch. “Allow me to be at your service, my dear.”

Usopp let out a low whistle from across the table. “Wow, I think that worked on me.”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “I already hate him.”

You, on the other hand, smiled sweetly. “That’s quite the greeting for someone you just met.”

Sanji smirked, tilting his head slightly, fingers still holding yours. “I believe in making an unforgettable first impression.”

“Oh, I’d say you have.” You leaned in slightly, voice dropping into a playful lilt. “I just didn’t realize they were hiring princes here.” It happened immediately. Sanji stiffened. His cigarette nearly fell from his lips. His eyes widened, mouth parting slightly like his brain had just shut off completely. For a split second, it was dead silent.

In a singular moment, His entire face went red, from the tips of his ears down to his collar. Luffy choked on his food. Usopp gawked. Zoro, for the first time since you sat down, looked genuinely shocked.

Sanji stumbled back half a step, hands twitching like he wasn’t sure where to put them. “AAh—” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I— That’s— You—”

You rested your chin on your hand, watching him with barely concealed amusement. “Something wrong?”

Another malfunction. The pink deepened. He was visibly sweating. Luffy was absolutely losing it. “WHAT’S WRONG WITH HIM? WHY’S HE ACTING LIKE THAT?”

“I—I am NOT—!” Sanji tried to straighten his tie, only to pull it completely loose. His usually cool and composed demeanor had completely crumbled, and he was spiraling. “I—I’ll get your food—YES—I need to—um—”

Quickly trying to gain composure again, turned his head to the side slightly. “Tell me, my love… Do you believe in love at first sight? Because I do now. No, no, I know it. I have spent my whole life searching for something, and today, I have found it in you.”

You smirked, deciding to play along. “Oh? And what exactly have you found?”

Sanji exhaled as if you had just spoken the most poetic words in existence. “The reason my heart beats.”

Zoro groaned louder. “I’m gonna throw up.”

Nami pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are we actually doing this?”

Luffy, still focused on one thing, poked Sanji’s head. “Hey. Can you make us food?”

Sanji finally, reluctantly released your hand, but not without one final lingering touch. Standing up, he smoothed his suit, regaining some composure. “Of course. Anything for you, my love.” Then, to the others, he added flatly, “And I suppose for your friends as well.”

He quickly took your orders, smiling each time giving you a glance and every time it was anyone else at the table who looked more than disinterested. As he sauntered toward the kitchen, he threw one last longing glance over his shoulder at you, pressing a hand to his heart.

“This will not be the last time we speak, my darling.”

You simply smiled, watching him go.

“Well,” you murmured, amused, “obviously it isn’t going to be the last time, he just took our order”

——

The minute sanji joined the crew, He never stopped going for your affection. It started as a casual breakfast on the Going Merry. Peaceful. Normal. Luffy stuffing his face, Zoro half asleep with his arms crossed, Nami sipping her tea, and Usopp telling an obviously exaggerated story. Then, you and Sanji happened. It started small.

“Would you like some more tea, my dear?” Sanji purred, refilling your cup before you could even reach for it. “I couldn’t possibly let someone as radiant as you lift a finger.”

You smiled sweetly. “Oh, Sanji, you’re too kind.” You leaned your chin on your hand. “If you keep treating me like this, I might just start thinking you really like me.”

Sanji smirked. “Like you? My dear, you are the sunrise to my every morning.”

“Oh? Am I?” You tilted your head. “Because you seem more like sunset to me charming, warm, and the kind of view that makes it hard to look away.”

Sanji’s mouth went so wide in shock. The crew immediately went on high alert. Nami sighed, lowering her cup. “Oh no. It’s happening again.”

Usopp side eyed the both of you. “How long do we think this round is gonna last?”

Zoro groaned, rubbing his temples. “If we’re lucky, one of us will pass out.”

Meanwhile, Sanji recovered, straightening his tie. “Ah, but my dear, you forget I exist to serve. If I am the sunset, then I shall make sure you end every day with a breathtaking view.” He took your hand, kissing your knuckles.

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “Sanji, you romantic,”

He grinned. “That’s the mission, sweetheart.”

You leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper. “But tell me, my prince, can you handle it if I fall for you?”

Sanji’s entire body tensed. His cigarette did fall this time. He gawked at you, struggling to form words, ears burning red.

Luffy blinked, mid chew. “Ooooooo sanji is gonna mess up again!”

Sanji snapped out of it. “HAH! No!!” He grabbed your hand again, desperate to reclaim control. “My darling, if you were to fall for me, I’d catch you faster than the wind itself.”

“Oh?” You smirked. “I guess I should be careful, then, since I do like a man who can sweep me off my feet.”

Sanji’s soul left his body.

Usopp threw his hands in the air. “How is he losing at his own game?!”

Zoro smirked. “Arguably has this ever been his game?”

Sanji stumbled back, gripping the table for balance, eyes darting everywhere except at you. “I—I—” He cleared his throat, straightened his tie again (for no reason), and exhaled sharply. “You’re a worthy opponent, I’ll give you that.”

You winked. “Wouldn’t be any fun if I wasn’t.”

The tension was palpable. Luffy just kept eating, completely unbothered, while Nami rubbed her temples like she had a migraine forming.

“This is gonna go on forever, isn’t it?” she muttered.

“Probably,” Zoro said, amused.

And so, as the sun rose higher in the sky, the Flirt War raged on.

——

The kitchen of the Going Merry smelled heavenly. The scent of garlic, sizzling butter, and fresh herbs filled the air as you stood beside Sanji, sleeves rolled up, a wooden spoon in your hand.

“This isn’t so hard,” you mused, stirring the sauce in the pan.

Sanji scoffed playfully, chopping vegetables with practiced ease. “Oh? Then why did you just almost burn the onions?”

You gasped, quickly turning down the heat. “That was one time!”

He smirked. “It’s been five minutes.”

You shot him a glare, but he just chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t let you burn the ship down.”

You huffed, but the warmth of his presence next to you was… nice. Comfortable.

He reached over, gently guiding your hand as you sprinkled in some salt. “There. Just a little too much will ruin the balance.”

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “You know, for someone who might actually be the least serious person ever, you’re oddly serious about food.”

Sanji smirked, but there was something softer behind it. “Cooking isn’t just about food,” he said, voice quieter now. “It’s about taking care of people. Making sure they’re happy, safe, and full.” He glanced at you. “You can learn a lot about someone by what they cook for you and how.”

You tilted your head. “Oh? And what does this say about me?”

He pretended to think, tapping his chin with the knife. “That you’re… lawless, a little reckless, but trying really hard.”

You gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me?”

Sanji grinned. “And that you care more than you let on.”

That caught you off guard. Your fingers tightened around the spoon, a warmth creeping up your neck.

He turned away before you could respond, focused on plating the dish. “Alright, taste test.” He lifted a bite of food to your lips, holding the fork expectantly.

You hesitated only a second before leaning in and taking the bite. The flavors burst across your tongue rich, balanced, perfect.

Sanji watched you closely. “Well?”

You swallowed, licking your lips. “Not bad, chef.”

His gaze flickered to your lips for just a second before he smirked. “Not bad? That’s all I get?”

You grinned. “Alright, alright. It’s really good.”

Sanji chuckled, stepping back with a satisfied look. “I’ll make a cook out of you yet.”

You bumped your shoulder against his. “As long as you don’t mind a little mess in your kitchen.”

His smirk softened. “For you? Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

——

It was supposed to be another harmless round. Another battle of wits. The little game between you and Sanji to see who could make the other fold first.

But somehow, it felt… different today.

The crew was gathered on the deck of the Going Merry, the afternoon sun warming the wood beneath you. Lunch had just ended, and everyone was lounging Luffy hanging off the mast, Usopp fiddling with his slingshot, Nami sketching a map, and Zoro napping against the railing.

And then Sanji had done the thing.

He’d casually brushed your hair back, fingers lingering just a second too long, his voice soft as he murmured, “Ah, mon amour, even the wind envies me for touching you.”

That should have been your cue to fire back. To make him stutter, to turn the tables. But for some reason, your breath caught.

Something in the way he said it something different made your heart do a weird little flip.

You recovered quickly, tilting your head with a smirk. “Careful, chef. If you keep that up, I might start believing you.”

Sanji grinned, but his usual arrogance wasn’t there. Instead, he just looked at youlike he was trying to memorize every detail.

The energy shifted. The crew definitely noticed.

Usopp, watching with narrowed eyes, whispered, “am I crazy or does this feel… tense”

Zoro cracked an eye open. “yes. you are crazy. but no you’re right.”

Nami sighed, setting down her pen. “Finally.”

But you and Sanji were locked in now.

Sanji exhaled, rolling his cigarette between his fingers. “Maybe,” he said, voice lower than usual, “maybe I want you to believe me.”

The teasing smile on your lips faltered just slightly.

Your fingers curled slightly against the railing. As god as your witness, since you first met him it’s been like a drug. But you weren’t about to let him win just yet.

“Is that so?” you murmured, stepping closer. “And what if I told you that I like the way you look at me?”

Sanji stilled, inhaling sharply.

For the first time, you saw him hesitate. Not in the usual, flustered way but in the way someone does when they realize they might be in over their head.

The silence stretched between you. The playfulness was still there, but beneath it was something deeper, something neither of you had expected.

Sanji swallowed, then let out a slow breath. “Then… I’d tell you I haven’t been able to stop looking since the moment I met you.”

You froze. This wasn’t a battle anymore. There were no winners. No losers. Just you and Sanji, standing too close, staring at each other like maybe just maybe this had been real all along.

Neither you nor Sanji moved for a long moment. Then, after a heartbeat, you smiled small, real, genuine.

“Guess we’re both in trouble, huh?” you murmured.

Sanji chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck, his face warmer than the afternoon sun.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I think we are.”

——

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden shimmer across the waves as the crew bustled about, preparing to head into town. You leaned against the railing, arms crossed, watching as Luffy practically vibrated with excitement.

“MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!” he chanted, running in circles around Zoro, who looked one second away from knocking him out cold.

“You guys have fun,” you said, stretching your arms above your head with a content sigh. “I’m just gonna take it easy today. Relax, enjoy the peace and quiet.”

Usopp slung an arm around your shoulder, waggling his brows. “Taking it easy, huh? What, planning on sleeping the whole day away?”

“Something like that,” you replied smoothly, not giving anything away.

“I don’t blame you,” Nami said, adjusting her sunglasses as she stepped onto the dock. “This is the perfect time to get some real alone time without Luffy shouting every five seconds.”

“Oi!” Luffy pouted but was too distracted by the smell of food wafting from town to argue.

Sanji, carrying a basket of supplies over his shoulder, turned to you with a charming smile. “Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you back anything, my dear? Something sweet? Something special?”

“I’m good,” you assured him, waving them off. “Just don’t spend all our money, Nami.”

She smirked. “No promises.”

One by one, the crew disappeared down the dock, their voices fading into the distance. You watched until they were completely out of sight before turning on your heel, already feeling the anticipation curl in your stomach.

Being on a boat full of mostly men all the time can definitely get to you, especially when you need some alone time, something that is rare and hard to come by. Today, since it was almost certain that everyone would be off the boat, some much needed solitude was in order.

——

Sanji had barely stepped into town when he realized he had forgotten something. He cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he spun on his heel.

“Damn it,” he muttered, adjusting the basket on his shoulder. “I was supposed to grab some containers for dinner tonight.”

The others were already wandering off Luffy sprinting ahead toward a food stall, Zoro heading in the opposite direction (probably lost already), and Nami dragging Usopp toward the market. No one noticed as Sanji veered off, making his way back toward the ship.

The walk wasn’t long, the scent of salt and the gentle rocking of the boat growing stronger as he neared the Sunny. He hummed to himself, mentally running through the ingredients he needed, completely unaware of what he was about to walk into.

He stepped lightly onto the deck, shoes tapping softly against the wood. The ship was eerily quiet, a rare occurrence with their crew. Normally, he’d appreciate the peace, but something about it made his brow furrow.

“(Y/N)?” he called out absentmindedly, though he didn’t expect a response. You had said you were going to relax, probably napping or reading in your room.

Shrugging, he made his way below deck, heading straight for the kitchen but then, out of pure curiosity (and maybe the tiniest bit of nosiness), he paused outside your door. He wasn’t planning on knocking, just listening for a moment, maybe to see if you had fallen asleep already.

That was when he heard it. A soft sound almost like a gasp. Sanji blinked, tilting his head. Another sound. A shaky breath. Sanji’s brain short circuited.

He swallowed thickly, eyes widening slightly as realization hit him like a speeding Sea Train. His hand, which had been halfway to knocking, immediately yanked back like he had been burned.

Oh. Oh.

He should leave. Right now. Turn around, walk away, pretend he heard nothing, and never think about it again. That would be the polite thing to do. The respectful thing to do.

And yet.

His feet refused to move.

A terrible, awful, sinful curiosity rooted him in place. His fingers twitched. His mind raced with the possibilities of what could be happening on the other side of that door.

Sanji squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take a step back. Nope. No, no, no. This was bad. He needed to go before

The ship rocked slightly, the floor beneath him creaking as his foot shifted.

And then. The door creaked open. His soul left his body.

——

The room was quiet, save for the sound of your own heavy breathing. The ship rocked gently on the waves outside, the muffled voices of birds flying by, barely audible from the deck. You had thought that you were alone.

Which is why you didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

Didn’t notice the door creak open. Didn’t realize you had an audience until

“oh my god.”

Sanji’s entire body locked up. Every cell in his being screamed at him to move, to run, to do anything but it was too late. He had already seen too much.

His face turned red at an alarming rate, from the tips of his ears down to his neck. His hands, which had been casually shoved into his pockets, shot up to his face like a man shielding himself from the divine sight he had just walked in on.

His knees buckled. His breath hitched. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out only small, choked noises that sounded vaguely like prayers.

His mind was an absolute mess. On one hand, he knew he needed to leave. Immediately. On the other hand—OH GOD, YOU LOOKED LIKE A DREAM.

The way your skin glowed in the soft light, the way your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, the way your expression was twisted in pleasure it was too much.

“I— I— I—” He wheezed. His soul was about to physically exit his body.

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with horror. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, realization dawned across your face, your very flustered, very not fully clothed face.

“UH” You scrambled for anything to cover yourself, your face burning hotter than the sun.

Sanji let out something between a strangled gasp and a whimper.

“I— I didn’t see anything!” he blurted, shaking violently. “Well, actually, I did—but I shouldn’t have—but I can’t unsee it now—BUT I DIDN’T MEAN TO—”

“SANJI!”

“YES, MY LOVE?!” His voice cracked.

“GET. OUT.”

That finally snapped him out of his stupor. With one last, absolutely pathetic nosebleed, Sanji let out an inhuman noise, spun around, and slammed the door behind him so hard the ship probably shook.

Silence.

From the other side of the door, you heard a loud crash, followed by weak, lovesick mumbling.

Sanji had absolutely collapsed.

——

After that incident, you had taken your time leaving your room, hoping that by some miracle, he had either forgotten what happened (unlikely) or at least regained enough composure to function like a normal human being around you (even more unlikely).You weren’t hiding from Sanji, exactly.

Unfortunately, the moment you stepped onto the deck, you spotted him.

Or rather Sanji spotted you.The second his ocean blue eyes landed on you, it was over.

His entire body went rigid, as if he had just been struck by lightning. His face already slightly pink from the heat went so violently red that it looked like he was about to self combust.

Then came the nosebleed. It started with a small trickle. Then another. Then a full on gush as the memory of what he had walked in on clearly assaulted his mind all over again.

Sanji wobbled. His legs shook. His breath hitched in his throat, his fingers twitching like he was fighting every instinct in his body.

“Ohhh… oh no…” he muttered, swaying slightly. “It’s happening again… mon dieu… mon dieu…”

Zoro, who had been standing nearby, raised an eyebrow at him. “The hell is wrong with him?”

Sanji let out a pained noise. A whimper. His entire soul was fracturing in real time.

You, watching this, sighed and crossed your arms. “Sanji.”

That was a mistake.

Because the moment your voice reached him, His name floating through your voice, his entire body shuddered, and he collapsed.

Flat on his back. Blood dripping from his nose. Muttering your name like some kind of prayer. The deck went silent.

Luffy, chewing on a piece of meat, blinked down at Sanji’s unconscious body. “Whoa. What happened to him?”

Usopp peered over and snorted. “I don’t know but he’s a perv—”

Zoro scoffed, arms crossed. “Idiot probably deserved it.”

Meanwhile, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“…Sanji please….”

Sanji barely conscious let out the softest little, “yes, my love…” before finally passing out completely.

On his side after that second misfortune, Sanji HAD been avoiding you since the incident. Knowing full well how disrespectful he’s being. But also know he fully well will fumble. It was hard to avoid someone when every time he laid eyes on you, his body betrayed him.

Blushes. Stammering. Dramatic nosebleeds. Near death experiences. It had been days, and he was still acting like a wreck.

And frankly? You were done with it. You missed you guys hanging out and making food together.

Which is why, when you caught him sneaking off toward the kitchen, you marched right up to him, grabbed him by the collar of his stupid suit, and your fist cracked against his head.

Sanji staggered, a yelp escaping his lips as he clutched his skull. “OW!—MMa chérie! Why—”

You grabbed his tie and yanked him down so he was eye level with you. “Pull yourself together, Sanji!”

His eyes were spinning. He looked devastated. “BBut, my love—”

WHAM. Another hit. Lighter this time, but still firm. “No more nosebleeds. No more fainting. No more worshipping the ground I walk on like some desperate virgin!”

Sanji sputtered. “BBut I’m not—”

You raised your fist again.

“Okay, okay!!” he yelped, hands raised in surrender. “II will act normal, I swear—”

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you sure?”

Sanji swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming at his temple. “YYes, I—”

His eyes flickered to your lips for half a second. Bad move.

You decked him.

Sanji flew like a damn ragdoll, his body went sailing across the deck before he crashed into a barrel with a pitiful THUD.

The crew who had been watching the whole thing winced.

Luffy, still chewing on his food, let out an impressed whistle. “Wow. is this because of the other day?.”

Usopp adjusted his goggles. “Think he’s still alive?”

Zoro, barely sparing Sanji a glance, scoffed. “Unfortunately.”

Meanwhile, Sanji twitched on the ground, a giant lump forming on his head, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

But despite the pain, despite the pure force of your hit his lips wobbled into a lovesick grin.

“Ohhh… they’re so strong…”

You cracked your knuckles. “Sanji.”

“Right! Right! Acting normal! Got it!!”

———

bustling with vendors and laughter as the crew explored. The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting golden light over the marketplace. The air smelled of grilled seafood, sweet fruits, and warm bread. It should have been a relaxing outing.

Should have been.

Except Sanji was currently draped over a group of women near a café, all charm and smooth words, flashing that damn heart eyed smile of his.

“Oh, ladies, you truly brighten this already beautiful day~” he cooed, practically melting into the group. One of the women giggled, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

“You’re quite the charmer,” she said, batting her lashes.

“I only speak the truth, my sweet,” Sanji replied, reaching for her hand, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles. “How could I not, when standing before such goddesses?”

You rolled your eyes so hard you almost saw the back of your skull.

The audacity. The absolute nerve of this man.

After what happened on the ship the way he had short circuited, collapsed, and barely functioned in your presence for days he had the gall to be out here, flirting with random women like it was second nature? Like he hadn’t seen you in the most intimate, vulnerable position imaginable?

Unbelievable.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. You weren’t sure why you were so irritated. It wasn’t like Sanji didn’t do this all the time. This was normal. Standard. A daily occurrence.

But for some reason, today, it grated on you.

Maybe it was because every time you accidentally brushed against him since the incident, he’d combust like a malfunctioning robot. Maybe it was because he couldn’t even look you in the eye without stuttering.Maybe it’s because you missed him

Or maybe it was because, for a moment, just a brief moment, you thought maybe just maybe his affections toward you were different.

Apparently not.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, turning away. You weren’t going to stand around watching him throw himself at strangers all day.

Just as you were about to walk off, you heard one of the women giggle.

“You’re adorable,” she purred.

Your jaw clenched.

Then, without thinking, you spun on your heel and called out

“Sanji!”

His entire body stiffened.

Slowly, almost fearfully, he turned his head toward you. The women glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension.

“Oh?” one of them mused,. “Is this your girlfriend?”

Sanji’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

You tilted your head, arms still crossed.

“Well, Sanji?” you asked sweetly.

——

You weren’t mad. You weren’t. Because being mad would mean that you had some kind of claim over Sanji, and you didn’t.

He could flirt with whoever he wanted. He could call every woman a goddess, get on his knees, offer them his undivided attention like they were the only ones in the world. It was normal.

So why did it feel like a slow burn in your chest every time you heard him do it?

You had no right to feel this way. No reason to let your mood sour. So instead of dealing with it dealing with him you made a choice.

You avoided Sanji. instead? You spent the day with Zoro.

At first, the swordsman had given you a look when you plopped down beside him on the deck, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the ocean.

“The hell do you want?” he grumbled.

“Nothing,” you muttered, leaning back with a sigh. “Just… existing.”

Zoro huffed but didn’t push you away. That was the nice thing about him he didn’t pry. He just let you be.

The two of you ended up training together, sparring to get your mind off things. You let yourself focus on the swing of your arms, the rhythm of dodging, the burn of exertion rather than the twisting feeling in your gut.

For a few hours, it actually worked. Until Sanji noticed. At first, he didn’t think much of it. You were friends with Zoro, sure. He’d seen you talk before, train together. It was fine.

But as the day went on, something started to feel… off.

You weren’t coming into the kitchen to steal bites of food before dinner. You weren’t teasing him like you usually did. You weren’t around him at all.

Instead? You were with him. Sanji was pissy. Not just annoyed. Not just mildly irritated.

Pissy.

And it was your fault.

You, who had spent the entire day hanging around Zoro like he was your new favorite person. You, who had laughed at something the swordsman said actually laughed like it was the funniest thing you’d ever heard.

You, who had barely spared Sanji a second glance.

So now, he was chopping vegetables in the galley with the kind of aggression that should be illegal, his cigarette burning low as he muttered under his breath.

Nami, leaning against the counter with her drink, raised a brow. “You’re gonna cut your fingers off if you keep that up.”

Sanji slammed his knife down. “Tch.”

“Oh, somebody’s grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy.”

Nami snorted. “Uhhuh. So this doesn’t have anything to do with you know who hanging out with Zoro all day?”

Sanji scowled. “I don’t care what they do.”

“Right.” She took a sip of her drink. “That’s why you’ve been glaring at the deck for hours.”

“I have not—”

The galley doors swung open.

And there you were.

Sanji straightened immediately, expression neutral, but Nami could see the way his grip tightened on the counter.

You walked in casually, grabbing a piece of fruit from the counter. “Hey, Sanji—”

“Oh,” he cut in, tone clipped. “You remember my name?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah?”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. “Thought you’d forgotten, considering how busy you’ve been with moss head.”

You stared. “…Are you jealous?”

Sanji scoffed. “Pft.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Please.”

“You are jealous.”

“I am not.”

You smirked, stepping closer. “Oh my god. You are.”

Sanji turned away sharply, muttering something under his breath as he aggressively stirred a pot that didn’t need stirring.

You frowned . “You’re mad.”

“I am not mad.”

“You’re being all pissy.”

“I am not. would you just” He exhaled sharply, spinning around to face you, his frustration spilling over. “Forgive me for thinking you’d actually want to spend time with me instead of that muscle brained idiot!”

You blinked.

Sanji blinked.

The room fell silent.

Nami slowly sipped her drink, enjoying the show.

“…Wow,” you finally said, crossing your arms. “That was a lot of feelings all at once.”

Sanji ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “I don’t—tch—just—forget it.”

You tilted your head, then, grinning walked right up to him.

Sanji stiffened as you reached up, gently flicking his tie. “Y’know,” you mused, “for someone who flirts with every woman he sees, you sure lose your mind when the attention isn’t on you.”

Sanji’s jaw clenched. “That’s different.”

You raised a brow. “Is it?”

“Yes.” His eyes met yours, blue and burning with something raw. “Because it’s you.”

That wiped the smirk off your face.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, with a final scoff, Sanji turned back to the stove. “Just sit down, alright? I made dinner.”

You step back a bit, but your chest felt a little warmer. “ Are you making it just for me?”

He let out a long suffering sigh. “Shut up.”

————

There are endless lists of moments Sanji fell in love with you. Like how he usually took care of people with food. The way you took care of him never ceases to make him love you more. The battlefield was still. The fight was over, the enemy long defeated, but your heart was still pounding.

Because where was he?

Your eyes scanned the wreckage, searching, ignoring the aches in your own body. The second you spotted the familiar flash of blonde Sanji, standing a few feet away, wiping blood from his lip your feet moved.

“Sanji!”

He barely had time to react before you reached him, hands immediately running over his arms, his chest, checking for any injuries.

“Are you okay?” You tilted his face up, frowning at the bruise forming on his cheek. “Damn it, Sanji, why do you never dodge”

A gasp slipped from his lips as he stared at you. “I—what?”

“You always get hit,” you scolded, brushing a bit of blood away from his jaw. “You know you don’t have to take every hit for someone else, right?”

Sanji blinked. It wasn’t like you to fuss over him. Sure, you flirted, teased, challenged him but this? This was new.

“You’re hurt, too,” he finally said, frowning as he spotted the scrape along your arm. His fingers brushed over it, eyes darkening slightly. “You should—”

“I’ll be fine.” You waved him off, still checking him over. “you’re always my first priority, okay?”

Sanji stopped breathing.

The world around him seemed to fade. The sound of the crew celebrating, the distant crash of waves it was all gone.

All that existed was you.

Your hands were still on his chest, completely oblivious to the way his heart was slamming against his ribs.

“…Sanji?”

Your voice snapped him out of it.

He exhaled sharply, shaking off the insane urge to just grab you, kiss you, do something. Instead, he covered his flustered expression with a lopsided grin.

“You really can’t resist touching me, huh?” He smirked, though it was weaker than usual. “I knew you liked me.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Oh, shut up.”

But the way you smiled at him relieved, warm, real Sanji decided he’d let you fuss over him forever.

———

It was the next day and Sanji wasn’t on the ship. He had gone exploring with Nami and Usopp, leaving the kitchen blissfully empty. Normally, you wouldn’t dare enter his domain without permission, but today was different.

Today, you had a plan. You were going to cook for him. Wasn’t it him that said the way someone cooks for people is how you learn about a person or whatever?

It wasn’t anything extravagant just a simple dish you’d seen him make before. But as you stood over the stove, carefully chopping ingredients (only slightly unevenly) and stirring the sauce (definitely not burning it this time), you felt something odd.

Nervousness.

Why were you nervous? You and Sanji flirted all the time, teased each other relentlessly, but this… this felt different. More personal.

You sighed, shaking off the thought. He cooks for everyone all the time. This isn’t a big deal. Except it was, and you knew it.

By the time Sanji returned, the dish was plated neatly on the counter. You were wiping your hands on a towel, pretending not to be hyperaware of how fast your heart was beating.

Sanji stepped into the kitchen, stretching. “Mmm, what’s that smell—?” He froze.

His eyes landed on the plate. Then on you. His brain short circuited.

“Did you…?” He pointed at the food. “Is this—?”

You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “Yeah. I, uh… made it for you.”

Sanji’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest wanting come barrelling towards you. His entire face went red. “You—” He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair like he had no idea what to do with himself. “You cooked? For me?”

You shifted awkwardly. “Well, yeah. You’re always the one feeding everyone, so I thought… you know.”

Silence. Then, Sanji dragged a hand down his face, clearly struggling.

You had never seen him at a loss for words before.

You smirked, trying to break the tension. “What, cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

Sanji looked at you, blue eyes flickering between the food and your face like he was witnessing something too much for his heart to handle.

“You’re… really trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he muttered.

Before you could respond, a loud THUMP shook the kitchen.

“I SMELL FOOD!!”

Luffy’s massive form barreled into the room, eyes locked onto the plate like a starving wolf.

In an instant, Sanji snapped out of his daze. “DON’T YOU DARE, YOU GREEDY BASTARD—”

But before Luffy could make a move, BAM!

Zoro’s arm shot out, holding Luffy back with one hand while the rubber idiot flailed desperately. “LET ME GO, IT LOOKS SO GOOOOD—”

Zoro sighed, straining slightly to hold him in place. “Not this time, moron.”

Sanji cracked his knuckles, looking murderous. “If you so much as breathe near that plate, I swear on everything, Luffy—”

Luffy whined. “BUT I’M HUNGRYYYY.”

Zoro smirked, glancing between you and Sanji. “Let the lovebirds have their moment.”

Sanji choked. You nearly threw the nearest pan at Zoro’s head.

“IT’S NOT—WE’RE NOT—”

Zoro just walked away, still holding a wailing Luffy back. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Enjoy your date, cook.”

The kitchen fell into silence again.

Sanji coughed into his fist, refusing to meet your eyes. You could still see the pink dusting his cheeks.

You sighed, sitting on the counter. “Well. That was dramatic.”

Sanji hesitated, then finally sat across from you. His expression softened as he looked at the meal you’d made.

“…Thank you,” he murmured, voice quieter than usual. “Really.”

You shrugged, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “Just eat it before it gets cold, yeah?”

He smiled. A real, soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

And as he took his first bite, you swore you’d never seen him happier.

Sanji took his time with the meal you’d made for him, savoring every bite like it was the finest dish in the world. He didn’t scarf it down like Luffy would’ve no, he was gentle with it, like he knew how much effort you had put in.

And honestly? Watching him enjoy it sent a strange warmth through your chest. Maybe that’s why he does this.

He set his fork down with a satisfied sigh, wiping his mouth with a napkin before finally looking at you. His eyes held something different now something real.

“That was incredible,” he murmured. “Not just the food. The fact that you… did this for me.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it, alright?”

Sanji chuckled, shaking his head. “Too late.”

The silence stretched, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. You could still hear Luffy and Usopp messing around outside, Zoro’s occasional annoyed grunts, the gentle sway of the Merry on the waves.

“Can I ask you something?” Sanji’s voice was softer now, hesitant.

You glanced at him. “What’s up?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking down for a moment before exhaling, as if bracing himself. Then, he met your gaze, and all of his usual flirtatious bravado was gone.

“I… want to be with you,” he admitted, voice steady but genuine. “Not just as a game. Not just as some girl I flirt with and move on from. You.”

Your breath hitched slightly. You hadn’t expected this. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, any hint that this was just another one of his smooth lines. But there was nothing just pure, raw honesty.

Still, you had to be sure.

“You say that now,” you murmured, watching him carefully. “But what about the next pretty girl you see? The next chance to throw around your charms?”

Sanji’s jaw tightened. He stood up, stepping closer, his gaze intense. “You think I’d risk everything, risk you for some meaningless flirting?”

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

“I don’t just like you,” he continued, voice lower now, more serious than you’d ever heard him. “I adore you. Everything about you. The way you laugh, the way you fight, the way you drive me absolutely insane in the best way.”

Your heart pounded.

Sanji’s fingers brushed against yours on the counter, tentative, like he was waiting for permission.

“You’re not just another girl to me,” he murmured. “You never were.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly knocked the wind out of you.

You let out a breath, glancing at your entwined fingers before looking back at him. “…Promise me.”

Sanji didn’t hesitate. “On my life.”

The weight of his words settled between you. Then, finally, finally, you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Sanji froze. His face exploded in red, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like his brain had completely shut down.

You smirked. “Speechless?”

He made a strangled sound, gripping the counter for support. “I—You—Mon dieu.”

You laughed, shaking your head before lacing your fingers through his. “C’mon, lover boy. Let’s go before Luffy breaks in here again.”

Sanji blinked rapidly, trying to reboot his system. Then, he squeezed your hand, a dazed but ridiculously happy smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah,” he breathed, still looking like he couldn’t believe this was real. “Let’s go.”

——

The sun dipped low over the deck, bathing everything in warm hues of gold and orange. The crew lounged, basking in the afterglow of yet another victory. Luffy was inhaling food like he hadn’t just eaten an hour ago, Usopp was dramatically retelling the battle with enough embellishments to make a playwright jealous, and Zoro was leaning against the mast, arms crossed, eyes shut.

And you? You were watching him. Sanji, leaning against the railing, cigarette between his lips, looking effortlessly cool. As always. It was obnoxious. After everything, the battles, the tension, the way he looked at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice, you decided… why not mess with him a little?

So, without a word, you strolled up to him, placed a hand on his cheek, and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. Just like that. Casual. Like it was nothing. Like it was normal.

Then, before he could react, you pulled back, patted his cheek with a smirk, and murmured, “Thanks for being safe, Sanji.” And then you walked away. Silence. Not a normal silence. A deafening, stunned silence. The crew froze. Sanji? Sanji malfunctioned. The cigarette slipped from his fingers, landing on the deck with a faint hiss. His entire body locked up, lips still parted like his brain had left the building.

“HUH???” Luffy choked, rice spilling from his mouth.

Usopp smacked his own face. “Did—did they just—DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

Zoro cracked one eye open, and muttered, “Well, they’re actually doing it.”

Meanwhile, you were casually leaning against the mast, trying very hard not to laugh as you watched Sanji’s brain actively rebooting.

And then Sanji moved. No he stormed straight for you. Before you could react, his hands grabbed yours, yanking you close in one fluid motion. “Oh, you’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dangerously low.

Your smirk faltered slightly. “…Sanji?”

“You think you can just do that?” His hands slid up your arms, firm, possessive. “You think you can just kiss me and walk away? take me serious”

You swallowed. “I mean—”

Sanji cupped your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

His voice dropped, smooth as silk, deadly as sin.“Try pulling something like that again, love, and I’ll make sure you never get a chance to walk away.” Your breath hitched.

The crew? Losing their minds. “OH MY GOD???” Usopp shrieked. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?” Luffy yelled, food completely forgotten. Nami just sighed, shaking her head. “Finally.” Zoro? well that man fell back asleep. For the first time in your life speechless. Sanji? Sanji smirked. Because for once he won this round.

—

You snorted. “Oh please, if I wanted you, you’d already be mine.”

Sanji grinned, tilting his head. “That so?”

“Obviously.” The banter was light, familiar comfortable. The kind of thing that had become second nature between the two of you.

“Oh my god, just sleep together already.”You both froze. Slowly, your heads turned to see Zoro walking past, completely unfazed, his sword slung over his shoulder.

Sanji choked. “EXCUSE ME?”

Your brain short circuited. “WHAT??”

Zoro, not even looking back, just shrugged. “You guys are basically already there. Might as well make it official.”

Sanji exploded.“ARE YOU INSANE?! You can’t just say something like that, YOU ABSOLUTE MUSCLE HEADED JACKASS!” His face was red, You, meanwhile, were dying.

“Zoro, what the hell?!” you sputtered, half laughing, half horrified.

Zoro just yawned. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking.”

From across the deck, Usopp cackled. “He’s got a point.”

Nami, sipping her drink, smirked. “Honestly, we were all just waiting for someone to say it out loud.”

Luffy, in true Luffy fashion, grinned. “wait so are you both…. doing it?”

Sanji made a sound that was borderline inhuman. “LUFFY, NO.”

You covered your face, trying and failing not to laugh. “I hate all of you.”

Sanji, still sputtering, ran a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.”

Zoro just smirked. “You’re welcome.” And with that, he walked away. Leaving the two of you standing there, stunned, mortified.

—

Most of the crew had gone to sleep, the only sounds left being the gentle lapping of waves and the faint creaking of the ship. You, however, were not sleeping. Instead, you were standing outside the men’s quarters, arms crossed, staring at the door like it had personally wronged you. Because Zoro’s words from earlier were still rattling around in your head.

“Oh my god, just sleep together already.”

The worst part? He wasn’t wrong and that was why, before you could talk yourself out of it, you knocked. There was silence, then a shuffling sound before the door cracked open revealing a very tired, very shirtless Sanji. His hair was messy, his tie discarded, and good lord he was wearing sweatpants.

You almost lost your nerve right then and there.

He blinked at you, rubbing his eyes. “Sweetheart? What are you doing here?”

You cleared your throat, trying very hard to keep your gaze above his collarbone. “Uh. Can I come in?”

Sanji raised a brow but stepped aside, letting you enter. The room was dimly lit, empty besides his neatly made bed and the scent of cigarettes lingering in the air.

He closed the door behind you. “Alright, what’s—”

“I think we should listen to Zoro.”

Sanji blinked. “ew what?”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer. “We should just… do it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Sanji.exe had stopped working.

“…I’m sorry, what?”

You crossed your arms, feigning confidence. “You heard me.” Sanji stared. His mouth opened then closed. Opened again. Nothing came out. his face exploded into red.

“WWAIT, HOLD ON, YOU CAN’T JUST—” He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide like you’d just set off a bomb. “Are you—do you—do you even know what you’re saying right now?!”

You smile, stepping closer. “What, you get to flirt all day, but I can’t be upfront?”

Sanji backed up instinctively, nearly tripping over his own bed. “That’s—! This is—!!”

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “What’s wrong, Sanji?”

He whimpered. Actually whimpered. His hands were gripping the sheets like a lifeline, breathing erratic. “You can’t just waltz in here and say things like that! I have a weak heart!”

You bit back a laugh. “Weak heart, huh?” You leaned down, tilting your head. “Then should I leave?” Sanji grabbed your wrist before you could even move.

“…Don’t you dare.”

The air in the room shifted. You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he was how his grip on you had tightened, how the teasing in his eyes had turned into something else entirely.

“…Sanji?”

His hand lifted, fingers tracing gently over your wrist. “You really want this?” His voice was quieter now, more serious.

You met his gaze. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

And with that, your fate was sealed.

Sanji’s lips lingered against your knuckles, the warmth of his breath sending shivers up your spine. His usual playfulness had melted away, leaving something real, something that made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t used to. Your heart pounded. You had started flirting with him all the way back as a joke just to mess with him, to see if he’d break like he always did. But now?Now you were the one who couldn’t breathe. Sanji lifted his gaze, his thumb brushing against your wrist. His voice was softer now, the teasing gone. “Say it again.”

You swallowed. “Say what?”

“That you want this.” His grip tightened, not forceful, but firm. “That you want me.

It should’ve been easy. You flirted with him all the time. This should’ve been just another game, another battle to see who would crack first. But looking at him now the way his lips parted slightly, the way his eyes searched yours with something dangerously close to hope this wasn’t a game anymore. You took a shaky breath. “I want this.” Sanji inhaled sharply, like the words had physically hit him. Sanji inhaled sharply, like the words had physically hit him.

“…Say it again,” he murmured, almost desperate.

You cupped his face, letting your thumb trace over his cheek. “I want you, Sanji.”

That was all it took. A groan left his lips, and before you could process it, his hands were on you gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, his forehead pressed against yours as he shook with the effort of holding himself back.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he whispered, breathless. “Do you even realize what you do to me?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his messy blonde hair. “I have an idea.” Sanji let out a low chuckle then, with a sudden rush, he flipped you onto the bed. You barely had time to gasp before he caged you beneath him, arms braced on either side of your head.

“I’ve spent so long waiting for this,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. “Thinking you were just teasing, that you’d never really…” He exhaled, shaking his head. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

You grinned, hands trailing down his chest. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Sanji groaned, dropping his head against your shoulder. “God, I love you.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Silence. Sanji froze. Your breath caught. “What did you just say?”

His entire body locked up. “…Nothing.”

You smirked. “Sanji.”

He refused to lift his head. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You totally did.”

“I absolutely did not.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Sanji. Look at me.” Reluctantly, he lifted his head, cheeks bright red.

You smiled. “Say it again.”

He groaned, dropping his face into the crook of your neck. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

But he still whispered it against your skin, soft and genuine. “…I love you.”

—

It was the next morning the room was dimly lit, the gentle sway of the ship rocking beneath you as you and Sanji were lost in each other. His hands traced along your skin, slow and reverent, as if memorizing every inch of you. His breath was warm against your collarbone, lips trailing lazy kisses up your neck, stopping just beneath your ear.

“Mon amour,” he murmured, voice thick with devotion, “you’re intoxicating, you know that?”

You hummed, fingers slipping through his golden hair, tugging just enough to earn a soft groan from him. “And yet, you’re the one who can’t seem to get enough.”

Sanji let out a breathless chuckle, pressing his forehead against yours. “Can you blame me?” His fingers trailed down your spine, setting your nerves alight. “You’re—” He kissed you deeply, swallowing the words before they could leave his lips. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body, the way his hands held you so carefully, like you were something precious. Every touch, every kiss was a promise one that you could feel down to your bones.

“Sanji…” you whispered against his lips, feeling his breath hitch as you ran your hands down his chest, your own teasing smirk forming as you

SLAM!

“HA! I KNEW IT!”

You and Sanji froze. Slowl horrifyingly you turned your heads toward the doorway. Usopp stood there, eyes wide as saucers, mouth hanging open in pure shock.

A beat of dead silence. Then processing just exactly what he caught and “knew” “OH MY GOD!”

Usopp screamed, immediately throwing his hands over his face like that would somehow erase what he had just seen. “I NEED TO BLEACH MY EYES—OH GOD—WHY—”

“GET OUT!!!” Sanji roared, grabbing the nearest object a pillow and hurling it at him.

But Usopp was already gone, sprinting down the hall at full speed. “NAMI!! I SAW IT! I SAW IT, AND I CAN NEVER UNSEE IT—” The door slammed shut again. Silence. Sanji, breathing heavily, still had his arm mid throw, his face burning scarlet.

You, equally red, slowly buried your face in your hands. “…Well.”

Sanji collapsed back against the mattress, groaning. “Does anyone knock or have courtesy?”

You sighed, staring at the ceiling. “we’re on a pirate ship, I think manners left the minute he stepped on”

From somewhere down the hall, Usopp could still be heard wailing. Sanji groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “…I’m moving to another ship.”

lol my last day of vacation and i’m about to go home but as it is a 10 flight i shall leave you with this. I also reach the text box limit and now some sections look squishy 😔

Sanji: heh... step aside ladies... let a real man handle this (does the exact same thing but worse)

[ralphlanyon]

Laurie, 7 and 8 for the ask meme!

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I appreciate how the TC fandom has obsessively analyzed to bits every interaction Laurie has ever had with Ralph, no matter how vague or elliptical! Fans are very good at sleuthing out all those stealth kisses and sex scenes. 🔎

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I'm not a fan of the opinion I've seen from time to time (which sometimes comes up in reviews and summaries for the book) that physical/sexual attraction is the primary (or sole) basis of Laurie's connection with Ralph. Like yes, sex is one part of what draws him to Ralph, but Ralph offers him so much more than that! He provides Laurie emotional support, comfort, understanding, and intimacy, and Laurie can be truly honest and vulnerable when he is with Ralph, in a way that he can't be with other people. They have shared values and attitudes, shared experiences, and a similar sense of (bitchy) humor. They can laugh and have fun together. Through Ralph Laurie also has the opportunity to live as openly as one could as a queer man in those days, to be part of a community and to have his identity and relationship be recognized (and affirmed) by others. Those are not minor or negligible things, imo.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

❤️ Black History Month - Queer Books + Black Authors

🦇 Good evening, beloved bookish bats. I hope you're having a wonderful weekend so far! Are you trying to read more queer books this year? More books by diverse authors? Books by black authors, not only for Black History Month, but all year long? Do I have a list for you (now featuring four new slides / 48 new books!).

❓What queer book and/or book featuring black characters have you recently read? Which one is on your tbr?

❤️ The Taking of Jake Livingston - Ryan Douglass ❤️ Mademoiselle Revolution - Zoe Sivak ❤️ Brown Girl Dreaming - Jacqueline Woodson ❤️ Alex Wise vs. the End of the World - Terry J. Benton-Walker ❤️ The Forest Demands its Due - Kosoko Jackson ❤️ Monstrous - Jessica Lewis ❤️ Thank You for Sharing - Rachel Runya Katz ❤️ Salt the Water - Candice Iloh ❤️ Trailer Park Prince - Andre L. Bradley ❤️ Blessings - Chukwuebuka Ibeh ❤️ Escaping Mr. Rochester - L.L. McKinney ❤️ Whenever You’re Ready - Rachel Runya Katz

❤️ Blood Justice - Terry J. Benton-Walker ❤️ Something Kindred - Ciara Burch ❤️ Infinity Alchemist - Kacen Callender ❤️ Vagabonds! - Eloghosa Osunde ❤️ Songs of Irie - Asha Ashanti Bromfield ❤️ Love and Sportsball - Meka James ❤️ Dead Girls Walking - Sami Ellis ❤️ Sleep Like Death - Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Where Shadows Meet - Patrice Caldwell ❤️ Family Meal - Bryan Washington ❤️ Where Sleeping Girls Lie - Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé ❤️ Leather, Lace, and Locs - Anne Shade

❤️ Brooms - Jasmine Walls & Teo DuVall ❤️ Lush Lives - J. Vanessa Lyon ❤️ Second Night Stand - Karelia & Fay Stetz-Waters ❤️ Broughtupsy - Christina Cooke ❤️ Skye Falling - Mia McKenzie ❤️ It’s About Damn Time - Arlan Hamilton & Rachel L. Nelson ❤️ The Color Purple - Alice Walker ❤️ And Then He Sang a Lullaby - Ani Kayode ❤️ Till the Last Beat of My Heart - Louangie Bou-Montes ❤️ Stars in Your Eyes - Kacen Callender ❤️ Prince of the Palisades - Julian Winters ❤️ Icarus - K. Ancrum

❤️ The Black Period - Hafizah Augustus Geter ❤️ How Long Til Black Future Month? - N. K. Jemisin ❤️ The Poisons We Drink - Bethany Baptiste ❤️ I Think They Love You - Julian Winters ❤️ Dear Senthuran - Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ Another Brooklyn - Jacqueline Woodson ❤️ D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding - Chencia C. Higgins ❤️ So Let Them Burn - Kamilah Cole ❤️ Sister Outsider - Audre Lorde ❤️ Red at the Bone - Jacqueline Woodson ❤️ How to Live Free in a Dangerous World - Shayla Lawson ❤️ I’m So (Not) Over You - Kosoko Jackson

❤️ Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender ❤️ Under the Udala Trees by Chinelo Okparanta ❤️ Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa ❤️ I'm a Wild Seed by Sharon Lee De La Cruz ❤️ Real Life by Brandon Taylor ❤️ Ruthless Pamela Jean by Carol Denise Mitchell ❤️ The Unbroken by C.L. Clark ❤️ Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova ❤️ Skin Deep Magic by Craig Laurance Gidney ❤️ The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ That Could Be Enough by Alyssa Cole ❤️ Work for It by Talia Hibbert

❤️ All Boys Aren't Blue by George M. Johnson ❤️ The Deep by Rivers Solomon ❤️ How to Be Remy Cameron by Julian Winters ❤️ Running With Lions by Julian Winters ❤️ Right Where I Left You by Julian Winters ❤️ This Is Kind of an Epic Love Story by Kacen Callender ❤️ The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum ❤️ This Is What It Feels Like by Rebecca Barrow ❤️ Son of the Storm by Suyi Davies Okungbowa ❤️ Black Boy Joy by Kwame Mbalia ❤️ Legendborn by Tracy Deonn ❤️ The Wicker King by K. Ancrum

❤️ Pet by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson ❤️ Once Ghosted, Twice Shy by Alyssa Cole ❤️ Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann ❤️ A Spectral Hue by Craig Laurance Gidney ❤️ Power & Magic by Joamette Gil ❤️ The Black Veins by Ashia Monet ❤️ Treasure by Rebekah Weatherspoon ❤️ The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow ❤️ Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James ❤️ Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

❤️ The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta ❤️ Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee ❤️ A Phoenix First Must Burn (edited) by Patrice Caldwell ❤️ Rise to the Sun by Leah Johnson ❤️ Things We Couldn't Say by Jay Coles ❤️ Black Boy Out of Time by Hari Ziyad ❤️ Darling by K. Ancrum ❤️ The Secrets of Eden by Brandon Goode ❤️ Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé ❤️ Off the Record by Camryn Garrett ❤️ Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers ❤️ The Henna Wars - Adiba Jaigirdar

❤️ How to Dispatch a Human by Stephanie Andrea Allen ❤️ Black Girl, Call Home by Jasmine Mans ❤️ The Essential June Jordan (edited) by Jan Heller Levi and Christoph Keller ❤️ A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark ❤️ A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney ❤️ Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo ❤️ Dread Nation by Justina Ireland ❤️ Punch Me Up to the Gods by Brian Broome ❤️ Masquerade by Anne Shade ❤️ One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite & Maritza Moulite ❤️ Soulstar by C.L. Polk ❤️ 100 Boyfriends by Brontez Purnell

❤️ Hurricane Child by Kacen Callender ❤️ Quietly Hostile by Samantha Irby ❤️ A Little Kissing Between Friends - Chencia C. Higgins ❤️ The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann ❤️ Sweethand by N.G. Peltier ❤️ This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Better Off Red by Rebekah Weatherspoon ❤️ Friday I’m in Love by Camryn Garrett ❤️ Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez ❤️ Memorial by Bryan Washington ❤️ Patsy by Nicole Y. Dennis-Benn

❤️ Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon ❤️ How to Find a Princess by Alyssa Cole ❤️ Yesterday is History by Kosoko Jackosn ❤️ Mouths of Rain (edited) by Briona Simone Jones ❤️ Dead Dead Girls by Nekesa Afia ❤️ Love's Divine by Ava Freeman ❤️ The Prophets by Robert Jones Jr ❤️ Odd One Out by Nic Stone ❤️ Symbiosis by Nicky Drayden ❤️ Thanks a Lot, Universe by Chad Lucas ❤️ The Passing Playbook by Isaac Fitzsimons ❤️ Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

❤️ Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert ❤️ My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson ❤️ Pleasure and Spice by Fiona Zedde ❤️ No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull ❤️ The Stars and the Blackness Between Them by Junauda Petrus ❤️ Filthy Animals by Brandon Taylor ❤️ The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin ❤️ Peaces by Helen Oyeyem ❤️ The Beauty That Remains by Ashley Woodfolk ❤️ Every Body Looking by Candice Iloh ❤️ Bingo Love by Tee Franklin, Jenn St-Onge, Joy San ❤️ The Heart Does Not Bend by Makeda Silvera

❤️ King and the Dragonflies by Kacen Callender ❤️ By Any Means Necessary by Candice Montgomery ❤️ Busy Ain't the Half of It by Frederick Smith & Chaz Lamar Cruz ❤️ Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo ❤️ Sin Against the Race by Gar McVey-Russell ❤️ Trumpet by Jackie Kay ❤️ Remembrance by Rita Woods ❤️ Daughters of Nri by Reni K. Amayo ❤️ You Know Me Well by Nina LaCour ❤️ The Summer of Everything by Julian Winters ❤️ Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi ❤️ Gingerbread by Helen Oyeyem

[cleptobycleo]

CLEPTO - HOLIDAY COLLECTION

Hi guys, I got inspired by some Mirror Palais pieces and I really loved the way they came out! Hope you like it too, enjoy and happy holidays ♥

- Starlite dress and Lady in red -

HQ, BG compatible

Teens - Elders

All LODs

Custom thumbnails

Disallowed for random

DOWNLOAD

- Mademoiselle dress -

HQ, BG compatible

Teens - Elders

All LODs

Custom thumbnails

Disallowed for random

DOWNLOAD

T.O.U.

• Don’t Re-Upload It

• Don’t Re-Edit It

• Don’t convert to other games

• Don’t claim as your own

• Recolors are allowed but don’t include the mesh

Follow me on instagram for more updates: @skinnycleo / @cleptobycleo

Become a patreon and get early access and exclusive content every month - https://www.patreon.com/cleptobycleo

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

Which Poptropica villain do you think is the most violent?

Violent? Let's see...

Well, I mean... Myron Van Buren hunts people for fun. The other villains only get violent because they're trying to achieve a goal.

But, then again... he doesn't seem like he'll beat you even after you're down. Octavian is shown taking his anger and hatred out on someone physically, even after they're down.

Hmm.... Scheherazade wanted to steal this child's soul, even though with her powers she could literally do anything else to defeat them.

Lieutenant Rogers was gonna murder these children, even though she really didn't need to. The trio had no way off the island, so she could've just called the Troopers to get them when no one was looking.

Not only that, but she's the only Protector (aside from Octavian) who believes in killing. The Protectors are specifically trained to fight people in non-lethal ways:

Well, you know what? I'm stumped. I can't decide. But I want to know what you guys think.

[whisperturnedecho]

Just go with what I'm saying

George Clarke x reader / mild angst, steamy smut

Summary: You’re all kinds of nervous around George Clarke, feeling unsure. And just like that, George cooks up a surprise plan.

TW: swearing and some degradation, male dom/female sub game, masturbation, anxiety w/a happy end, phonesex

To the: masterlist

18+ MDNI!

You walked into a lunchroom together with your friend Arthurtv and found a booth by the window. Once the drinks were sorted, you started eyeing the menu, stomach growling. "Ham, egg 'n' chips sandwich it is!"

Arthur smirked as you talked about wanting a change, only to end up with what was familiar. "I'll also stick to my go-to: a Caesar salad with garlic bread," he told the waiter.

While waiting for lunch, Arthur started chatting about the Bach & Arthur podcast. They were introduced to their cool new space themed setup not too long ago. You’d know Arthur loved his work; he’d go on about it for hours.

"The other day, someone asked if I’d post philosophy vids on the 'Arthur Frederick' channel, but honestly, it feels more like a podcast thing. Don’t you agree?" You nodded and sipped on your cappuccino. "You’re a perfect team when it comes to deep talks like philosophy. I often listen while cycling or cleaning."

The food arrived; it looked delicious. Arthur got lost in his salad.

"Before I forget!" Arthur suddenly blurted out as he checked his phone. "There is a party at the boy's flat. Come! It's this Saturday at 8pm. George invited a bunch of friends and we'd like you to be there, even though you haven't been around for long." You said yes right away, no second thoughts.

George. It was a mix of excitement and butterflies imagining being with him again. You were low-key obsessed with the guy rocking the curly mullet and big arms. Playing it cool? Not a chance. And nope, you hadn’t mentioned it to Arthur. The redness in your cheeks didn’t escape Arthur’s attention.

"What's happening here?" he wondered.

"Oh, the eggs on this sandwich aren't fresh," you quickly made up, "I'm getting some kind of flush." Arthur tilted his head. "Yet you ate three-quarters of it, we could have sent it back, stupid." You chuckled. You couldn’t tell if he’d figured you out, but it seemed like you got away with it.

When the bill arrived, you reached for it, only for Arthur to stop you with a cheeky wink. "This one’s on me, next time, you’re paying!"

Heading back, your mind kept drifting to George Clarke. There was something about him. While Arthur felt like a safe haven, George always left you a bit on edge when you met him. It wasn’t easy keeping cool while talking to someone you secretly liked. He might’ve guessed you were dodging eye contact, keeping busy, and fighting the urge to giggle. You were so caught up and smitten.

Saturday night, you kept it simple but classy—white blouse, black jeans, and ready for a great night. You wondered if George might like you in heels. Sure, you could manage heels, kind of. But why make things harder? Blue Converse it was. A quick dab of Coco Mademoiselle behind your ears and you were good to go, remembering your mum’s advice to never settle for cheap perfume.

Hill opened the front door when you arrived. "Y/N, you’re here!" he said, all hyped up. After a big, warm hug, he pointed you toward the kitchen for drinks. You grabbed orange juice for now, but shots might happen later.

The atmosphere of the night was chill. Hill took charge of the music, while Arthur quietly focused on his chess app after the second round of drinks. It didn’t trouble anyone. Chip was laughing with Calfreezy. Chris was in the kitchen. George roamed the room, socialising. You watched him from a distance, trying not to be too obvious about following his every move.

You found yourself twirling just a little on your toes as he neared your table.

The two of you started talking. When you asked him about life as a newbie streamer, he replied that he was currently in his active era. He was still trying to work out how everything worked on Twitch. "I did a 7,5-hour stream not too long ago. " Your jaw dropped as you thought about your early nights, propped up in your bed with a book and your cat Bella.

"Were you okay the next day?" you wondered. "Don’t worry about me, Y/N. I can take care of myself." Watching him, so smooth and self-assured, made you feel like you couldn’t compare.

You got chatting about his childhood in Bristol, and out of nowhere, he mentioned Arthur had told him about your love for drawing. He said he might show you his sketches someday. While you studied his face, you made sure not to meet his eyes, the awkwardness eating at you.

George excused himself to visit the bathroom and walked away. He stopped. "Can a man not just turn around, without someone looking at his ass? " he called out. Out of nowhere, you snorted. Oh no! You slapped a hand over your face to keep yourself from losing it. His trip to the bathroom was a small blessing, so you could die in embarrassment.

Arthur came by and put his hand on your shoulder. "It sounds like you are having a good time," he said. "Promise me we’ll dance soon," he insisted. You nodded.

George came back with two cocktails, and you grabbed one. Classic you, spilling it right in the middle of the room after tripping on your shoelace. Chris and George cracked up. “Butterfingers and twinkle toes,” George teased. At least your blouse survived.

"Cool that you’ve got it all together," you said with a hint of sarcasm, barely paying attention while grabbing napkins. "Do I?" he replied, sipping slowly. You noticed a playful smirk behind his cocktail glass. "You’re into people who know how to take charge, aren’t you?"

Don’t blush, don’t blush, you thought, but you felt the blood rush to your head. For a moment, your mind went blank, and you didn’t know what to say. George winked at you and grazed his beard with his fingertips.

As Arthur asked you to dance, George wandered off, his attention caught by a female friend on the other side of the room. "Thanks for saving me, " you told Arthur with a sigh. He frowned. "What happened?" he asked. You let out a nervous laugh and confessed to acting silly in front of George. "Don’t stress—no chandelier antics, right?" he said, twirling you with a smirk. "It’s just George, you’re good."

Party over, you crashed at home. After feeding Bella and removing your makeup, you got into bed all warm and cosy. "Men are confusing," you muttered as Bella paced with her tail curled like a question mark. "Avoiding them seems easier—especially the charming ones. I definitely made a mess of things tonight." Bella didn’t care and was already distracted by something outside the window.

After scrolling through "X" on your phone, you started feeling the pull of sleep. Nightlight off, pillow hugged tight. It was time to sleep. Ping! Your phone went off after 20 minutes. It grabbed your attention. Who texts this late? It was the middle of the night. Did you forget something back at the party? You picked up your phone and read the text:

George: It's me, George. Add me on WhatsApp.

You: How did you get my number?

A 'please' would’ve been great, you know? What was so important? With Wi-Fi on and his number saved, you were sitting straight up in bed, curious and nervous.

George: Chill, we were just tidying up after the party, and I asked Arthur for your number ‘cause I wanted to keep chatting with you. He said I could grab it from his contacts, so it’s all good.

All's good? You were going to kill Arthur.

George: You looked amazing tonight, no lie. That blouse and your silver bangles totally caught my attention.

Hold up, was George flirting? You couldn’t believe it and covered Bella’s eyes. You were a mess, with butterflies fluttering like crazy.

George: Everyone’s free to dress how they want, but I prefer when women leave a little to the imagination instead of putting it all out there. That’s my vibe for my girl.

Omd, you were scrambling to text back, completely panicking.

You: Yup, that’s totally me. But honestly, I’m not sure what you’re trying to say here. You had questions. George: You don’t need to get me, just go with what I’m saying. Wanna play a little game? We’re both in bed now anyway. I love dirty talk. I think I’ve got an idea of the kind of stuff you’d like. You: Are you serious? I don't know how good I am at stuff like that, but it sounds hot. George: At any moment you feel uncomfortable we can stop, okay? And then, we just move on like nothing even went down. You agreed. George: You wore black jeans today that fit perfectly. I saw you dancing with Arthur. Your ass looked too hot not to spank. You felt how your body reacted to his words, and you pressed your legs together. You weren't a beginner, but didn't have a lot of experience in the bedroom. You felt aroused, no doubt. Normally, one of the first people you'd reached out to when there was something exciting going on was Arthur. Crazy that he was the first person you wanted to talk to. Instead, you typed a reply to George. You: Maybe I would let you. Playing him at his own game felt wild. Nothing came through, even after several minutes. Out of the blue, your phone lit up with a WhatsApp call. George? Seriously? You hated taking calls, and now your nerves were all over the place. "Hey?" you said, unsure, as you picked up the call. "I called you because want to hear you say it. Tell me that you want me to spank your ass." Your mouth felt dry. "I—I want you to spank my ass Ge—orge." You could hardly talk. Your ears were on fire. Your pussy was throbbing. You had to talk normal, please. "Good girl," he replied "you can do it. You can say all the naughty things that your mind tells you that you can't say. Unless you want to go back to texting? Or stop?" You steadied yourself and said, "No, go on." The way he spoke had you curling your toes and feeling all kinds of things. "You liked that, didn't you?" he said in a sultry voice. You like it when I call you a good girl. You're a very special person Y/N. I think you are just right for me." You soaked up his words and moved your fingers underneath the edge of your panties. You needed to touch yourself. You rubbed your clit through your upcoming wetness. You heard how George hummed. It was as if you felt electricity all over. Fuck. "I would put you over my knees Y/N and pull your panties down, so that ass would be ready for me. I would put a drop of that perfume you wear on your thighs." Your back arched at his words. "I would slap you, then rest my hand on your ass to enjoy the heat. I would squeeze your ass and slowly dip my wet finger in and out of your arsehole after warming you up. You would tell me about all the times that you have masturbated thinking about me. You'd confess to everything with those bright red cheeks. Got it Y/N?" "Yes George." Your face flushed. It was impossible to stop touching yourself. You circled over your heat. Your fingers circles from your clit to your hole. My god that felt good. "George?" you said. It was more of a plea than a question. "You are touching yourself, aren't you?" he asked. "I can hear it that you are touching yourself. It's making me really hard." "Yes, I am George. I couldn't help myself. You do so much to me. "

"As do you. Next time you are going to ask me for permission to touch yourself, is that clear?" "Yes sir." Sweat ran down from your head to your neck. "Do you have a sex toy?" George made it sound like the most casual question in the world. "Umm, I have a solid glass dildo. You know, a toy you can warm up." "Get it out now and get ready to fuck that velvet pussy for me, Y/N. Push it all the way in. You are going to look so sexy. Your legs spread wide, filling yourself up. Your eyes all desperate." You lifted your legs to pull off your wet panties and did as you were told. "Can I put it in George… please? Can I? I want it so much. I want you." "Yes darling, put it in your tight hole." Your heart was racing when you moved the dildo in and out. "You are going to cum for me, fucking yourself with one hand, rubbing your clit with the other hand. I will count from 10 to 0." You gulped. You were so close, but you didn't know if he could actually make you cum that quickly, but you knew that you had to be honest with him. He was the one in control. "10…….9…….8…….7..…..6……. 5……. 4……." Please! Oh god. You felt your head spin. "3..….2….. you are going to cum for me. You look me right into the eye. Cum over my cock, you little slut …..1…..0." You cried out at the top of your lungs. "Oh god George, George," you called out as you climaxed. Your phone fell from your hand. You were shaking all over. You had a deep urge to please him, to make him feel proud of you. "Gosh, that was incredible," you said when you felt mildly sane again. "Thanks, I guess, I didn't expect this." "We are not done. I know that you have it in you to cum a second time Y/N," he said with a low voice. " You really think I haven’t noticed you avoiding eye contact? You’ve been waiting for someone like me, and it’s obvious. I’ve been watching you from every corner of the room. I know you think about me… sexually. A girl like yourself is made for submission. You would do anything for me… yes?" "Yes, I would George," you panted, and you felt yourself climax again. Damn, it felt so good. As you were caught up in your own joy, you heard George moaning as he came. It was the best sound in the world. Silence followed. He probably stepped away to clean himself up. After, he told you that your loudness was charming. You were leaning into his words, tired and drowsy. It felt weird and wonderful to share such an intimate moment with George. "Do you think you’ll manage to look me in the eye next time we’re face-to-face?" he asked. "Nope, no way!" you answered. "Goodnight darling."

"Goodnight George."

----------

If you enjoyed reading, let me know. It will encourage me to write more. ❤️

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 33

(Rook is one of the few to actually swear himself as a Knight in service of the Human and he wears this title like a badge of honor. Rook doesn't need the actual armor part of his ensemble, but he likes the way they look on him and he appreciates the consistent theming of the Queendom garb. The Knight of Roses is actually a style in the Queendom reserved for royal guards. Most royal guards in the past were tasked with protecting the royal Humans and the royal family, so it is more tradition in the Queendom to dress the current day Human's guards in this armor.)

Warnings: yandere, yandere behavior, multiple yanderes, violently protective yanderes, poaching attempt, unnamed character injury, Queendom Citizens, speciest behavior, mention of weapons, mention of clothing of various kinds, dancing, Harpy, Alicorn, Dragon, Merfolk, Drider, Hellcat, Selkie,

(If you have trouble imagining songs for the ending scene, this is the song I imagine this one is playing:

~~~~~~~~

You were out with your guards once again to take in the sights and maybe even look for random souvenirs to bring back to Night Raven. If you were going to be visiting almost every country and countless cities within the countries, you may as well get random knickknacks to keep. Though you had no money of your own when you fell into this world, Crowley was sure to shove Thaumarks into your arms before you departed.

Apparently, during his extensive conversations about what you would be doing in the Queendom, he mentioned the many funds and grants NRC had been given. Most of those grants were from larger countries that wanted to financially support you and support Night Raven for as long as you called the campus home. As the reason for the grants coming in, no doubt Crowley decided that you deserved a fair portion of the Thaumarks.

Now you were visiting the many different stalls in the market side of the city, anything you bought quickly being carried by the men that guarded you. Ortho and Rook were continuing their usual scanning of the rooftops as you marveled over the craftsmanship of the trinkets before you.

Riddle had been in a noticeably better mood even around Alistair despite the tragedy of the day prior. If anything, he seemed saddened but not dragged down by the events as if he had been freed of the obligation. It certainly made him brighten up even more when you told him Papa Hades agreed to pay for his schooling so he was no longer tied to that cruel Unicorn woman.

It was while you were examining a rather lovely sun-catcher that a sudden warmth wrapped around you, darkening your vision. You were about to question Malleus as to why he had moved to shield you when a particularly loud eruption of screams sounded out.

"It was the Lion! I saw the Lion did it! Get that beast away from the Human!"

You saw several people seemed to be antagonizing Leona who was actually standing close by with his Knobkerrie drawn. Not far from Leona was what looked to be a Pigeon man laying face down in the gutter with arrows of a different make strewn about him. Rook was quick to step between Leona and the hounding onlookers with his bow raised.

"Non! Roi du Lion was not the one who took out the archer. I saw him take aim at Mademoiselle Trickster, he is not to blame."

"So you, some Drider from outside the Queendom, think I didn't see what I saw with my own two eyes? How dare you!"

Ortho stepped in next, his screens enlarging as a quick video played back over. The video was of Rook quickly drawing his bow and firing at the pigeon man. The man in question was clearly aiming towards your group with his own notched arrow before he was pieced through the shoulder by Rook's golden and red arrow.

"You are wrong! Video doesn't lie! Leona didn't do anything wrong, stop being speciest towards him! Even if he had shot the assassin, he would have been doing it to protect (Y/n)! He is within his legal rights to protect her!"

The onlookers- who had been up in arms- now looked somewhat sheepish at the clear evidence to the contrary of any wrong doing. They glanced at one another before the most outspoken of them- a woman with multi-colored fins on the side of her face crossed her arms.

"Well, he could have done it!"

That sentence set an anger burning in your heart as you pulled out of Malleus' protective embrace, turning on your heel to face the woman who looked so smug. It was as if she were saying he was guilty of association and therefore deserved punishment of some kind. No way were you going to stand for anyone treating Leona as lesser.

"How dare you?"

"W-well, I-"

"How dare you make such false and baseless accusations against my chosen guards!? What, because he is a Nemean Lion you think you are allowed to show cruelty to him? You think you can claim such a horrendous lie and be believed, even with evidence to the contrary? How dare you speak so loudly and so incorrectly about someone else like that? Shame on you! Shame on your whole family for your backwards way of thinking! A Lion he may be, but his hands are cleaner than your own as you are so keen to sling lies at someone who is not in the wrong. For shame!"

"I- but I thought he-"

"You thought wrong! He is a guest in your city- a Prince- and you deem it appropriate to lie about him because of your own fragile view of reality? How quick you are to assign blame when you should be ashamed of yourself for jumping to the conclusion he was out of line!"

The woman was now shrinking in on herself, despite being much taller than you and dwarfing you in height. Though you were small and weaker compared to the towering giants around you, you could still bare your teeth. Naturally, those around her- who had been on her side- turned on her like a pack of dogs and began snapping their own disappointment and disgust at her actions.

"Don't all of you jump in like you are innocent in this matter! You all blamed him too and were on her side until I started shaming her. Shame on all of you as well! Have you no honor, no pride? Is this the decorum I can expect from the citizens of the Queendom of Roses? You all are the citizens, the blood of this Queendom, I would expect you all to uphold the best qualities of the Queendom, not the worst!"

The group had shied back from your admonishment, none of them willing to look you in the eye. It was around this time the Pigeon man was coming back around, raising his bow with an arrow notched as it pointed directly at you. He was fast, but Floyd was faster.

The bow snapped under the grip of the Eel Merman who sneered with bared fangs at the pigeon. It was clear most hadn't expected him to try again, especially with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, so they were quick to detain him. Even those you scolded were feverish to stop the Pigeon man as if they were vying for your approval.

It seems even those met in passing were impacted by your aura. Why did something like this always have to happen? The more important thought was when Idia planned to get back to you about a weapon to protect yourself. Though, it wouldn't protect you from someone shooting arrows from the rooftops.

You had suggested many ideas to Idia and he promised to have something soon. For now you had to rely on those who protected you and proclaimed themselves to be your knights. It was mildly concerning to you how little you were concerned with this attempt, as it was not supposed to be so common place.

"We should return to the castle, Mon Trickster. One attempt surely means there will be another. Roi du Selkie is to be arriving today as well, seeing as the execution is slated for tomorrow. Something tells me we should not encourage anything more today."

"If you say so, Rook."

You allowed the Drider to pick you up, thankful Grim was back at the Palace of Roses with Alistair. He had asked the Alicorn for a few of his colorful feathers and the Alicorn offered the Kit most of his collection, which was a beautiful assortment of prismatic feathers. The kit agreed to stay and choose his favorite feathers of the grouping and Alistair promised to keep an eye on the kit.

At least Grim being at the castle kept him from having to endure the assassination attempt. Thankfully this Pigeon Harpy man was not as skilled a marksman as Rook and the superior hunter won. The soft fur of the Drider beneath you was a comfort as Leona fell into step with the Drider you sat on the back of.

"Why do you care so much about how they treat me, Mousey? It's nothing new to me."

"Because, you're a good guy, Leona. A genuinely good guy, and I appreciate the hell you have gone through for me. I don't care how they stare at me, but to blame you as if you deserve poor treatment for being a Nemean Lion? Hell no. I'm not letting that happen."

Leona smiled slightly, a warm expression as he gazed at you affectionately. He was used to everyone outside of Sunset Savana treating him disdainfully but it still warmed his heart to know you saw more than his species. Maybe Falena was right in believing you could help end the hate towards his Kingdom.

"You're too good to us, Mousey. Never change."

"I thought only RSA was the do-gooders of Sage island?"

"Don't even joke about switching over to that school. I look best in black, not their white uniforms."

You chuckled softly noticing that Leona indicated he would switch schools to stay near you if you went to RSA instead. Slowly, you rest your head against Rook's shoulder, feeling protected by the lovely Drider as he walked back to the Palace. He ensured to wrap his cape over you to shield you from the onlookers just in case.

The guards of the Palace were quick to receive your group as you all were looked over for any potential injuries. Word had no doubt gotten back to them about what had happened and what had been done to the perpetrator of the crime. It was while everyone was being checked that a loud and familiar voice cut in.

"Puppy!"

A wave of relief washed over you as a familiar black and white coated Selkie with a worried expression stormed into the room. You were quick to run straight into his arms as the Selkie wrapped them around you, letting you burrow your face into his fur as he sighed in relief. He gently pet your hair as you rest your head on his shoulder and accepted the parental affection.

"My poor puppy, being attacked and hunted by the scum of the world. I'm here now and I'll keep you safe. I also brought some gifts for you."

You pulled back to see the bag he had set down, the Selkie picking it up to hand it to you with a warm smile. His hand gently rest on your head as he moved his hand in a petting motion to soothe you. Despite everything, you did feel relief at seeing the paternal Selkie that seemed to care for you with his entire heart. He was a good fatherly figure, if nothing else.

Digging through the bag you realized there was a blanket with instructions handwritten. Apparently, this was to be your heated blanket and Idia decided to gift you with it early. He must have sent it with Divus after word got back to NRC of the events in the marketplace.

Beneath the blanket was a fine leather box no longer than your phone. Attached was a note.

'Hey, Hellkitty, made that knife you wanted. It doesn't run on magic the way other things do, but it will absolutely get the job done. It uses DNA recognition software I coded, so there are only three it won't hurt; You, Grim, and Papa Hades. Goes without saying this thing is dangerous, so use it sparingly! By the way, you can change the color of the blade with the adjuster on the side if you want to.

-Gloomurai'

Inside was a handle that seemed to have grooves to fit your hand comfortably. It sat well in your hand and hummed under your touch as if waking up in your palm. Slowly it formed a bright blade that glowed in your hand and sparked with energy. It enraptured you quite a bit as it harmlessly passed over your skin and shined against your flesh. Divus seemed less than pleased to see you were now armed, but he also seemed to understand you needed to be able to protect yourself.

"Careful, pup. I'll teach you how to wield that if you need, but we can't be too hasty with something so dangerous."

You nodded, relaxing your grip as the blade faded from the handle in your palm, returning to a dormant state. It made you feel a little better with it, but now you had to check in on Grim. Though you trusted Alistair to not harm the Hellcat, that didn't mean they couldn't get up to trouble while out of sight.

"Welcome back, (Y/n)!"

The Alicorn happily trotted forward, a pleasantly pleased feline sitting on the equine back of the prince. Attached to his bow over his collar were three bright feathers that shined with rainbows of their own and you recognized them as Alistair's. Sitting in the arms of the Alicorn seemed to be a pile of his feathers which he proudly held up to you as he trotted up.

"I heard what happened, are you okay?"

"As okay as I can be, but Rook is a good watchman."

"Well, Grimmy and I sorted through all of my feathers so he could find some he liked and we got an idea! Since you both like my feathers so much, I decided to make you a cloak using them! I don't have much use for them, so I figure you may as well have them!"

He held up the cloak in his arms, showing you the beautiful arrangement of feathers that made it look like a crystalline waterfall. Though it really didn't match with the outfits you had been gifted by the Queendom, it was still a lovely piece. You allowed the Alicorn to place the cloak around your shoulders and it felt much lighter than you had expected it to.

"Thank you, Alistair, it's beautiful."

"Well, I didn't want to sound too proud of my own feathers, but I am glad to hear you like them. They should help you out too, in the event anything happens."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Pegasus feathers- and Alicorn by extension- have certain characteristics to them that you don't find in a lot of species. For instance, if you fall off of something while wearing that cloak, you won't fall as fast due to the air magic properties of the feathers. Plus they are great at temperature regulation and impact absorption. Again, I don't really need them since I grow them, but they should help you."

You smiled at this, reaching out to gently pet the Alicorn's hair. He seemed somewhat surprised by the affectionate gesture, but leaned into your touch happily. Lilia did say petting was a good way to show affection and appreciation. Unbeknownst to you, several of your guards glared jealously at the Alicorn.

Grim was not bothered by their displeasure and instead was happy to leap into your arms, purring in elation. The kit seemed quite pleased with the feathers he added to his bow, likely having picked them himself.

"Clouds is so much fun, Mama!"

"I'm glad you had a fun time playing with Alistair today."

"I did, but Clouds said someone attacked you. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. Rook is a good shot and an even better lookout, so I wasn't in any danger."

"I like Spooder!"

"I know you do, dear. I like him too."

The kit continued to ramble off about his day and you patiently listened to the excitable kit expound and chatter about how much he enjoyed. Though the day was only half over, he still had to tell you everything that happened because he adored you. Around you, your many guards waited for their own moment to be in the blessed spotlight of your attention. Perhaps they should try befriending Grim to earn your favor.

~•§•~

The evening was setting down and you stood out on the balcony of your room. It gave a lovely view of the Queendom and you couldn't help but admire the beauty of it all. Part of you was sad that the stars were somewhat blocked out by the lights of the bustling city and you longed for a moment beneath the stars.

Resting in your hands was the floating skull bot that Kalim had enchanted, a few songs playing in your head as the skull was dormant. Most of the songs were- oddly enough- slow trailing waltzes that would be best suited for a slow dance. Something about the Palace of Roses and the city lights had your mind focused elsewhere even with the execution looming overhead. The next day was going to be a bloody event indeed, with that kind and boyish Alicorn acting as the official headsman for the execution.

"Enjoying the evening?"

The smooth voice of Malleus drew your gaze over your shoulder as the Dragon approached. His outfit much like the others yet pursuing a certain air of regality that paired well with his ethereal beauty. He was a nocturnal creature of the night and it certainly was shaping up to be an auspicious evening.

"As well as I can."

"Are you worried for what tomorrow may bring?"

"Of course I am."

The Dragon leaned next to you against the railing and looked out at the gentle glowing lights of the city before him. Malleus had been a good ally to you and a very useful friend despite how clearly he was impacted by your aura. If you were going to have everyone you've ever met become obsessed with you, you would at least need to keep strong allies at hand.

"What troubles you? I will always be an ear to listen, should you need to lay your worries upon someone."

"I'm worried about everything. From outside poachers trying their luck, to an Overblot taking place during the height of the event. It seems like- no matter what I do- I am constantly in danger of some kind or put on some pedestal and expected to be some paragon of kindness. I can't always be the voice of reason among madness."

"It does seem like anything that can go wrong, will go wrong more days than not. You are a species others would kill to keep, and one many of us would kill to protect. I do wish this place were safer for you, especially given how much this country previously cared for the Humans among them. If it is of any comfort, we won't allow anything to happen to you."

You sighed, nodding and conceding to his words as you tried to keep your mind from running off with anxious stress. Naturally, you were well aware of your fragility compared to other species, but you hoped with your new weapon that you would be able to protect yourself from others. It was still nice to know that Malleus intended to keep you as safe as possible.

"It's just so hard to keep my mind off of it all, you know?"

Malleus stood in silence for a moment before he picked up the skull from your hands, setting it on the banister and turning towards you. You turned to face him as he caught your other hand, kissing the back gently as he guided you to place your first hand on his shoulder. He slowly began to sway with you as if in a small dance.

The enchanted skull seemed to sense the change in mood and began to softly play a slow rolling song similar to what had been on your mind before Malleus showed. He seemed to take the music in stride and began slowly leading you around the balcony to the gentle tune that turned rich and soulful. Something about the way his eyes gleamed in the dark seemed to enchant you as you allowed the Dragon to lead you slowly through the dance.

It became harder to focus on anything else excepting Malleus as your concern for the next day fell to the wayside. He was at least a very pleasant distraction from what was to come.

Each slow movement had you melting further into the Dragon's embrace as you trusted him to move you to the music. It was nice to forget about things for a while and slowly dance into unawareness with the powerful mage.

He even began to slowly try and hum with the tune of the song, as if he were enjoying the moment of time spent with just the two of you dancing beneath the moonlight. Slowly your eyes began to close as your head rest against his chest, listening to the Dragon hum and croon while he led you through the sweet dance. You didn't know exactly when you began to nod off in the Dragon's arms, but he was quick to bring you to your bed when you stopped dancing.

The last thing that occurred to your brain was the sensation of your clothes being magically changed to an outfit meant for sleep before you succumbed to the gentle embrace of sleep.

Outside of your sugar spun dreams of dancing to gentle music, the Dragon purred adoringly. His clawed hand gently dragging over the skin of your cheek as he smiled in response to your peaceful expression.

"May your dreams be pleasant, and your rest deep, my precious (Y/n). My most beautiful jewel..."

[marzipanandminutiae]

I would LOVE to hear more about the moral panic surrounding fashion dolls!! (Also it is so cool to see a doll from history, with clothing that would have been worn around the time it was made!! so if you happen to have any more images lying around that you'd like to share...)

thank you for this totally unprompted request :D

most of it was more of the same from the Mlle. Frou-Frou article- people worrying that having dolls depicting elegant adult ladies, especially with lots of clothing or especially nice clothing, would make little girls materialistic. and/or distract them from their True Purpose of marriage and motherhood, by making them think about...well, really it was still materialism that they were worried over, but it's hard to not see the "having any life at all outside the home" implications. fashion dolls might have wedding ensembles, but they were seldom depicted as wives and mothers

there are famous "Norman nanny" dolls, based on the then-common practice of young women from Normandy coming to Paris to care for the children of the wealthy, but seldom fashion dolls outside that particular uniform with little china babies in their trousseaux. I find that very interesting

wearing a Norman folk costume + holding a little baby = Norman Nanny DollTM

(which is wild because most women had SOME degree of life outside the home. many working-class women, well, worked, and a lot of middle- and upper-class women were involved with charities or intellectual/academic pursuits. but I digress)

I remember reading one magazine story- I think also from the 1870s, like Mlle Frou-Frou, where a mother is concerned about the effect of a "Paris doll" (as Anglophone sources often called French fashion dolls) on her daughter and the wise aunt suggests giving her a baby doll instead. the little girl instantly forgets her well-appointed Mademoiselle and declares that "a real doll-baby" is much better. I don't know about you, but there's not a baby doll in the world that could distract me from this:

French fashion doll and her trousseau, late 1860s

lady dolls fell largely out of fashion by the 1880s, replaced by child dolls. which, while sometimes just as extravagantly dressed, could at least be said to represent companions for their owners rather than a vision of an elegant- and worldly -future. and by the time Cissy and then Barbie came along in the 1950s, concerns about materialism were largely replaced by worries about the sexuality represented by adult woman dolls with realistic bodies

(notably, French fashions didn't really have that- see above where the undressed doll clearly lacks breasts or any other sexual characteristics besides a slim waist. the same bodies were frequently used for dolls representing men and women. so Mattel, you're not innovative with Creatable World)

but that's not to say the Child Doll Era was totally bereft of elegant ladies! if you want some eye candy, here you go:

"Miss 1934," a doll likely made around the turn of the 20th century outfitted a few decades later with a fashionable wardrobe by doll collector Blanche Eaton

Same type of doll as above but with a trousseau more conteporary to her creation. She is clearly in her greige era but for some red shoes. poor thing

Kestner "Gibson Girl" doll with wardrobe, 1910s

There are plenty more online, but the pictures aren't wanting to load for me, so I must stop there. I hope this was informative!