#if they were less idiotic

[shadow-bringer-ao3]

If, Perhaps, They Were Less Idiotic, Things Would Go Smoothly

Madara was, admittedly, too disoriented to have bothered checking the remains of whatever ritual the students decided to set off in the middle of breakfast. He’s tired, cranky, and near blind from the explosion. Not an actual explosion, thank the Sage, but a sudden relocation of all of the light, natural or otherwise, to one point. Jarring, to say the least. Anyway, rituals and sketched seals aren’t his area of expertise, fire is. That’s Mito’s area. And Tobirama, but that’s more of a hobby for the water elementalist than anything else.

So, instead of checking the ritual or for injuries, like Itama and Tsunade immediately went to do, he headed for the prime suspects. Namely, Uzumaki-Namikaze Naruto and his squad of annoyances. They even drag the upper years into their messes, sometimes, but Kakashi generally has more impulse control and can hold all of his idiot friends back. Namely, Uchiha Obito. His own nephew, who gets himself in more trouble than Madara ever knows what to do with. Almost as bad as Minato and Kushina’s spawn.

He never gets all of the co-conspirators from the main suspects (Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, and Haruno Sakura, because it’s always those three, isn’t it) but that’s hardly surprising. The trio is admirably tight-lipped and loyal, Sasuke more out of general stubbornness than anything, but the end result remains the same. The three get detention (under Hidan, the sadistic bastard, because he and Kakuzu are pretty much the only teachers immune to Naruto’s natural charm) and Madara gets a drink. The next day everything is fine and the trio are suitably traumatized.

Well, except for one thing. Something is off with Tobirama.

At first, Madara doesn’t think anything of it. The Senju have always been a little odd and Tobirama is no exception to that rule. Hashirama is bipolar, Tsunade violent, Kawarama... weird, Itama downright terrifying, and Tobirama closed off, distant, with no rhyme or reason attached to his actions. That’s how it’s always been. This, though, is a different kind of weird. After he first notices (a flinch away from contact, not usually odd, but this time it was away from Kawarama and Tobirama has never been shy with contact when it involved his brothers, particularly the younger ones), he doesn’t stop. He can see Itama and Tsunade are clued in on something, their eyes tracking Tobirama whenever he’s in the same room as them but the albino astutely avoids the pair of healers. Mito too, if her narrow-eyed glances and heated, whispered arguments with the healers or Tobirama himself are anything to go off of.

An injury, he thinks, but that can’t be right. Nothing in his movements belay any sort of injury and Tobirama has never been shy about healing, regardless. It must be something else.

(He keeps going back to the idea of an injury time and time again as Tobirama seems to almost wane over the next several days, even if he’s cast it aside.

He realizes, with a start, that he’s doesn’t like the idea of Tobirama injured and not seeking help.

He buries the emotion as soon as it surfaces, resolutely ignoring it.)

Madara doesn’t hate paperwork. He really doesn’t. It’s tiring, but he doesn’t hate it. No, he hates how much he gets or, as in this situation, the absolutely horrid conditions he has to work it. The conditions being, of course, Tobirama’s presence. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem. Then again, Tobirama isn’t quite acting normally, is he? No, no he’s not. So Madara is stuck doing paperwork with Tobirama, trying to simultaneously ignore the albino and scan him for any sign of injuries or curses or seals.

That also leads to lingers looks at pale skin or vibrantly red tattoos or soft snow-white hair that Madara would love to run his fingers through- he tears his eyes away, glaring down at the field trip form in his hands. It’s Uzumaki Karin’s, for Hashirama’s annual trip to the relatively nearby ruins, preserved and owned by the school. The Mountain Graveyard, they call it. It’s chalk full of magic and the resident Zetsu(s) hang out there. A dangerous place, if the students don’t follow the strictly enforced rules. Karin is less of a troublemaker than her year mates, so long as Hozuki Suigetsu doesn’t antagonize her into doing anything stupid. He signs off on the form and moves it aside. In a separate pile, since the field trip is coming up rather quickly and he doesn’t want to have to deal with Hashirama’s panicked searching like last year. His eyes move up to Tobirama again, unbidden. The man is frowning down at what looks to be their finances, his mouth moving to silent words. Madara watches for a beat too long and pulls his eyes determinedly back to his own work. A parent complaining, as always. Honestly, if parents don’t agree with their teaching methods then they should pull their kids out. No one is going to kick Hidan out for being a third-tier vampire despite the complaints against it and like hell would Minato put up with it anyway.

The blonde is almost annoyingly kind but that means nothing when you draw his ire. A true force to be reckoned with, that one. Especially with those annoying spells he and Tobirama are always working together on. And Orochimaru, when the mood strikes their resident snake expert (but seriously, that level of adoration for snakes is not natural). Tobirama meets his eyes when he looks up again. He grimaces, ignoring the way his face flushes, but doesn’t back down.

"You’ve been staring," Tobirama offers up, his (beautiful, vibrant red) eyes narrowing further. Madara leans forwards slightly, letting his head rest on his hand.

"If you offered a picture, perhaps I could stare at that instead," he returns, never one to let a chance slip him by. The albino disregards the comment without more than a slight bristling, like usual. Honestly, the Senju is very incredibly oblivious. It seems to run in the family. Kawarama hadn’t noticed Hikaku’s flirting for a week and Hashirama hadn’t noticed Mito’s for a year and a half. Hashirama still misses rather obvious hints and clues from Mito (who is now, somehow, his wife, he doesn’t understand why she would lower her standards so far).

"I’m afraid I have no such photos in my possession," Tobirama says dryly. "Nor do any of my brothers, I can assure you." ...Madara wonders just how many threatening words and actions it took for a Tobirama to get any and all pictures of himself from his family and destroy them. He’s tempted to say a lot but, beyond Itama, Tobirama has been voted as the most terrifying staff in employment by both parents and students. Hidan and Kakuzu may both be creepy and Tsunade may be terrifying in her own right but all three have a lot to learn.

"Well?" Tobirama prompts after a moment. Madara hums, shrugging.

"You seem... off," he says truthfully. You can’t lie to Tobirama, after all, and redirection is nigh impossible. The only ones able to do it are Itama and Touka, as far as he can tell, and that’s only through intense embarrassment. Mito, sometimes, through sheer stubbornness.

"Off?" Tobirama arches an elegant white brow, clearly unimpressed.

"Yeah. Ever since the idiot trio’s most recent back-firing experiment, actually." Oh and there Tobirama tenses. Something is wrong, then, it’s not just his imagination. Tobirama turns his attention back to his paperwork.

"Don’t be a fool, Uchiha, no matter what comes naturally to you. I am unharmed." Madara stares at Tobirama for a moment longer, wondering if he should take offense. He decides not to because it’s probably what Tobirama wants. A genius plan to- wait. Oh. Madara stifles a smirk, pushing himself fluidly to his feet. Tobirama twitches but doesn’t look up, working determinedly on whatever he’s decided is more important than his own welfare. Madara walks around the table, stopping next to Tobirama.

"Say, Senju," he purrs, putting a hand over the paper Tobirama is staring at. "I don’t believe I mentioned injuries or harm in any way." Which side has Tobirama been favoring?

"You implied it," Tobirama retorts coldly, turning to glare up at him. Madara moves so he can bracket the albino, rather than merely looming. Which side had Kawarama brushed against?

"I gave a timeline but I didn’t imply anything," he corrects. "You inferred it." Tobirama stands. His chair clatters to the ground, skidding out of Madara’s circled arms. He pays it no mind. Ah, yes. It had been Tobirama’s right.

"What do you want, Madara?" It comes out as a growl. Madara grins, stepping closer so that Tobirama’s back is touching the table and his front is pressed against Madara. We can’t be having the Senju escape after all, can we? He leans closer yet to whisper in Tobirama’s ear.

"I want you... to take care of yourself." And with that, Madara presses one hand into Tobirama’s right side. The albino hisses in pain, almost crumpling in Madara’s arms. Madara steps away from the table with a frown, taking Tobirama with him. There’s no way the man will let Madara take him to Tsunade or Itama and even in pain, Tobirama’s control over water is a bitch and a half to deal with.

"Bastard," Tobirama snarls. It would be scarier if the Senju wasn't half keeled over in Madara’s arms. Madara gives him an unimpressed look and carefully leads Tobirama over to the staff room couch. He pushes the Senju into it, kneeling in front of him. He lifts Tobirama’s shirt without a word, scanning the man’s right side. It’s not pretty- a patchwork of bruises and nasty black marks. He feels over it gently with his meager diagnostic magic, on hand on Tobirama’s other side to stop the man from instinctively flinching away. A broken rib too, it seems like.

"Why hasn’t Itama healed you?" He demands, glaring up at Tobirama.

"The magic that caused the injury rejects any interference. I simply have to let it heal on it’s own," Tobirama grumbles, apparently realizing that Madara isn’t just going to let the matter rest.

"Why are you working, then? Minato would give you payed off time, if it’s a problem with money." Tobirama stares at him like he’s an idiot. Madara glares back, because everything he just said makes sense. Rest is a necessary component of healing and, by the sage, if Tobirama refuses to take care of himself, Madara will force him.

"What do you expect? For me to just laze around doing nothing?"

"Yes? That’s generally what people do when they get a rib broken. You’re going to mess up the healing process! The fact that you haven’t done so already is luck, pure and simple,” Madara snaps. Tobirama rears back, like he’s surprised that Madara’s worried. He really hopes that’s just his overactive imagination and not an actual worry. He might be... grumpy, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like Tobirama (just the opposite, in fact, and if the other man thinks Madara dislikes or, Sage, hates him, he’s not sure what he’ll do).

"I will not be useless-" Madara snarls, cutting Tobirama off harshly.

"For fuck’s sake, Senju! Being injured and not taking care of yourself properly will lead to you being a burden more than if you took a few weeks to fix yourself." They fall into an uncomfortable, tense silence when Madara finishes. There’s so much more he’d like to say (yell at Tobirama for thinking like that, demand the names of those that made him think he needed to be useful, assure Tobirama that he’s the most important person in this school and likely the only reason it runs in any sort of workable fashion), but now isn’t the time. Tobirama hardly trusts him and wouldn’t believe anything that comes out of his mouth that isn’t an insult in some way. He sighs, leaning back to sit on his haunches. This conversation would be more comfortable if he wasn’t on the floor in front of Tobirama but he’ll make do.

"Is there anything we can do to remove the magical infection?" He asks after a moment. Tobirama looks at him long and hard, trying to discern his purpose. Or so Madara would guess. Even after all this time, the Senju is a mystery. Probably part of the reason Madara is so enamored.

"A few," Tobirama finally says, his eyes never leaving Madara’s (and isn’t that odd, when the Uchiha are so well known for the magics they can channel and use through their eyes?). "Many are too dangerous to attempt or too..." He trails off, clearly searching for a word. "Intimate," Tobirama finishes with a helpless shrug. Madara arches a brow.

"Too intimate?" He prods. Tobirama’s lips twist into a grimace and he looks away with a hum.

"If I were to have my magic completely flushed, or switched out by another’s, the invading magic would be forced to dissipate due to losing anything to ground itself with. It would work but..."

"But it would result in a magical bond," Madara finished for him. He swipes a hands over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should just force the Senju into bed rest to heal the normal way but with a magical infection like this, it’s possible that the injuries won’t ever heal. The most logical thing to do would be to flush out Tobirama’s system. That’s a level of intimacy far past anything the Senju has partook in, far past anything even Madara has done.

"Of course. The one lauded as unfeeling, regardless of evidence to the opposite, is the one stuck in this situation," Madara grumbles. "I don’t suppose you have anyone you wouldn’t mind being bonded to?" The question is rhetorical, verging on sarcastic, but Tobirama responds seriously anyway.

"I... do. But I am unsure if he feels the same way or whether he is simply like this around everyone and I have horribly misread him," Tobirama confesses, voice tight as he studiously avoids Madara’s eyes. Well, that was certainly unexpected. He wonders who it is. Madara resolutely pushes down the pang of hurt the echoes through his magic itself. Why should he care that Tobirama likes someone?

"Well, I suppose the first step would be asking them." Madara bites down on the near instinctive addition that he wouldn’t mind being bonded to Tobirama. In fact, he would love it. The Senju, though, clearly doesn’t feel the same way. Tobirama stares at Madara again, frowning. The he sighs and gets to his feet. Madara scrambles to his feet as well, steadying the Senju when it looks like he’ll stumble.

"And here it’s my family that is said to be oblivious," Tobirama says dryly. "Now move. We’ve wasted enough time and the paperwork certainly isn’t going to do itself." Madara doesn’t move and that earns him a glare but now it’s personal, damnit.

"What did you mean by that?" He challenges. Tobirama rolls his eyes and, with the speed he’s infamous for, drags Madara into a short, slightly awkward, but very much amazing kiss. Oh.

"Oh," he articulates dumbly. Tobirama hums again. "You like me?"

"Clearly." That was dry enough to give Suna a run for it’s money, dear lord.

"Then... you wouldn’t mind me helping with your, ah... infection?" Suffice to say, the answer is a resounding 'yes'.

(They get on stopping the magic infection right away because it's a very dangerous situation that shouldn't be allowed to continue any longer. It’s definitely not because they, realizing how stupid they’ve been, decided to emulate horny teenagers. The bonding and flushing and everything was definitely at the front of their minds. The entire time. It was the entire reason.

Fuck off Izuna, you’re just as bad!)

[honnelander]

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 

Sanji. Ugh.  

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 

You were hopeless. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 

“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 

Did Sanji just say he loved you? 

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 

You sighed.  

Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 

[mintflavoredfemurs]

Had to do an English assignment on juxtaposition and I took my favorite boys and spent 2-3 hours total on em.

Hhhggh i need to sleep

[other-peoples-coats]

hey you know how basically the whole GFFA is a number of space wizards of varying moralities battlegrounds? and how like, irl, in ex-battlegrounds we find both like, live munitions, but also ones which are still around bc they were DOA?

and how sometimes (weirdly often) the dead/presumed dead bombs(/mines/etc) become kinda... decorative art or at least weird bits of the landscape?

point I'm getting at here is how many people in the GFFA have like, A Weird Stone or whatever that is actually an untriggered or mildly broken Sith Nightmare Machine (etc) sitting in their fucking yard, or the local park is actually 2/3rds of a ritual circle of 'kill everyone on the planet with spikes'.

[bonebabbles]

Clear Sky is fine compared to this one-dimensional bullshit we made up

"Whataboutism? In MY Warrior Cats?"

It's more likely than you think.

Clear Sky continues to guilt trip his son, whine and cry when a vote doesn't go his way because his victims don't trust his newest lie, and Gray Wing walks off so we can introduced to Slash.

Slash is Evil Foreigner Villain 2. Like One Eye, the narrative function of this character is to serve as our antagonist and make Clear Sky look better in comparison.

Don't think about how Clear Sky is the most vicious character in the series with a CURRENT body count of 3 direct murders (Misty, Bumble, Rainswept Flower), nearly a dozen more under his orders, a few counts of physical assault including smacking a kitten to the ground in anger, and ongoing emotional abuse of his own child. That was all "good intentions," the writers are gonna show you what they think "REAL" evil is!

...being more openly mean about the same exact thing Clear Sky did in Book 3. Hitting a kid for questioning why they're making enemies.

But nonononono guys this is UNIQUELY BAD we swear!!!!!

You can tell because Slash doesn't insist this is for Fern's own good somehow. He's just openly twirling his mustache instead of preparing a speech about self-defense or whatever. Their weakness is that they're "ruled by fear," unlike us Clan cats who are kept together by..... something else i guess.

What ELSE do you even call it, if you're held together by the idea that there's a constant barrage of bloodthirsty foreigners you need to defend yourselves against? Or an abusive tyrant who threatens, beats, or kills you for standing up to him? Or the unfounded belief that you're constantly a hair away from starving to the point where you have to send a domestic abuse victim back to her violent husband?

What do we call that, if not fear?

Isn't "fear" the other half of that dumbfuck "All Living Creatures Are Driven By Fear Or Greed" dichotomy they wrote in the earlier books, to try and barf up some kind of excuse for why Clear Sky skinning random women alive was actually very sympathetic?

You might want to twist this story to say, "Ok well it's saying that Clear Sky USED to be this bad, but hes not now" and id tell you that you're writing fanfiction. That's just not what's on the page. It does not draw that parallel and Clear continues to be a bastard without consequence. Read the shitty arc you keep telling me is actually sooo deep.

Slash and One Eye were inherently bad people. Unlike Clear Sky who's good at coming up with excuses that sound nice.

[feralbutfluffy]

Crowley circles Aziraphale in a lot of their scenes together. Sure, it could be his snake side constantly wanting to coil around him, but also it could be that Aziraphale is the sun to Crowley's planet, and that gravitational pull...

[muchymozzarella]

I just saw a post about this but y'all

Ship and let ship = Proship

Dead dove shippers = Proship

People who enjoy dark media knowing it doesn't reflect your real life beliefs= Proship

People who enjoy literally the most milquetoast vanilla unproblematic media but don't threaten or harass people for stuff they like = Proship

All your faves who made the stuff you love = Proship

Literally the only thing that makes you Proship is not harassing people over fiction. That's literally all it means.

Whoever says otherwise lied to you. Unless your fave makes a habit of harassing people over fiction LMAO

[francy-sketches]

If I'd actually posted all my pjo art when I made it instead of hoarding it like a little goblin for no apparent reason today I might have been known as the octavian guy instead of the joffrey guy...scary thought...

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

home from work

[mybrainproblems]

look. the levels of "you know, i always thought i could be a good dancer if i wanted to be" in 15x10 are just. so much to me!!

the more i think about s15, the more i see the little callbacks and easter eggs to earlier seasons. (the writers did their homework!) we have what i think is probably the most recognized/cited one, "daddy's blunt instrument" which predates every writer working on s15. i guess arguments could be made for singer but i just don't see him making that sort of contribution to a berens-penned ep. but there are so many other little things and i do think dean's line about thinking he could've been a good dancer is both a metaphor and a callback to 07x16 out with the old.

which like.

it was also something of a metaphor in s7. you have the literal meaning of dean seeing the ballet shoes in s7 and clearly being drawn to them in a way that sam isn't, the references to both black swan and swan lake. (and clearly a knowledge of swan lake given the reference to prince siegfried.) but you also have the metaphorical meaning of the shoes with dean being drawn to something that is perceived to be non-masculine and "delicate" and nothing like hunting. that he wants to have that in some capacity. and then we get a reference back to that in 15x10!! the acknowledgement that he always thought he could be a good dancer if he wanted to be. said with wistfulness! and it's said as they watch garth and bess dancing together. the face he makes when sam jokes he was good at the macarena and totally brushes off what dean is saying. given the lamp. given everything in the episode. yes, it's about dancing and wanting normalcy. it's about settling down and having a life. it's about dancing with someone.

you ask "why lamp?" you fucking know why. and so does andrew dabb.

-

also: references to swan lake the ep before cas returns is uh. a lot. this is however an instance where i'm not 100% onboard with it being an intentional destiel thing.

* there is literally nothing delicate about dance/dancers tho, it's literally just perception. i had friends who danced and they were pure muscle and grace. it's wild.

[dangerousdan-dan]

I'm laughing my ass off. This one person tried to humiliate me and show how smarter than me she was by quoting a fucking dictionary at me. Let me tell you, the look on her face when I went, "well, I majored in literature and languages..." and proceeded to tell her to fuck off in the most academic way possible.

She was being so condescending and sarcastic at me, quite literally telling me I didn't know what I was talking about, but I just smiled and politely showed her how wrong she was.

It was beyond satisfying.

[conanssummerchild]

im sorry but sometimes i get so embarassed that my special interests are literally taylor swift and stranger things

[aeolianblues]

one last thing I will say on that topic. Americans getting upset about you calling out Zionism. When you're not talking about Judaism or in fact, about religion at all. When you're talking about a national military funded by a country that has been dropping bombs on the middle east since the 1980s. But then I suppose when people who are so so so comfortable with equating a whole religion, or further a whole entire group of multiple ethnicities, with simply 'terrorism', are criticised on any aspect of their wrongdoings of course they must think we're talking about their whole religion. Literally every word is a projection.

[crimeronan]

Small bby Amity grimwalker being adopted by Hunter when pls

i love this ask so much. literally every time i make a post like "this is the worst thing imaginable. this is the worst thing that could possibly happen in this AU" you guys are like "okay..... but what if it was really cute, though."

you're so fucking funny i love u all.

[ariesbilly]

no but actually post season 3 where billy ends up in a coma after starcourt and wakes up and remembers every awful thing he had to do and hes shaking with sobs remembering heather and her being his first victim when all she wanted to do was help him and he feels so guilty about it and max is like “no heather made it, shes alive” and billy doesnt believe her until heather comes walking in with steve and robin (there is much to explain, bills been out a while) 

and at first billys relieved to see her alive but also doesnt want her anywhere near him because hes afraid he’ll hurt her again etc etc but heather just crawls into the hospital bed with him and holds him and reassures him shes fine and its over and theyre gonna be okay now and just.... best friends <3

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 3

"Life Less Frightening" by Rise Against