the idea that every summer will be as hot if not hotter than this for the rest of my life is unbearable i need to (remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health) murder an oil executive
something Mello fans need to understand is that if he saw his fanbase he would be SO flattered. Like honestly he would shed a single tear over it. He would love you guys so much
Iâm not sure requests are still open but HEAR ME OUT
Imagine Yuu was at alchemy class brewing some basic morph potions, but Grim managed to fumble it by adding to much of a certain ingredient, Grim managed to scurry away when he saw the potion beginning to bubble up, yet our lovely prefect didnât had enough ice to run away so when it exploded the transformation occurred.
Now Yuu is a lovely cat beast man for the next few days, how would the dorm react at them exhibiting more cat-like behaviour and struggling to keep up with their new features?
Is a small thought that came to me while I was showering LOL
summary: reactions to you being kitty-ified
type of post: headcanons
characters: rollo, fellow, skully, swing
additional information: platonic, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, ramshackle au, ghost skully, contrived potion logic for plot reasons
Grim didn't want to wear the hairnet.
That's how this all started. Grim didn't want to wear the hairnet.
It's itchy! he whined, scratching at his head. I hate it! I hate it! Take it off... please, Yuu?
You wanted to say no. You wanted to remind him that Professor Crewel said this potion was delicate, and the tiniest environmental alteration (like cat fur) might affect it. You wanted to tell him that you had to wear a hairnet, too, and it itched just as much...
...But it was your last class, and Crewel wasn't looking, and, well... you just wanted to go home.
Rollo only grabs you by the wrist and drags you into his room, locking and barring the door behind him.
"The others hear not a word of this," he says, sitting at his desk and pulling a potionology book from the top shelf.
For hours (and what feels like an eternity), he skims through antidotes and antivenoms, searching every crevice of the yellowed pages for something potent enough to reverse the effects of the potion.
For hours (and what feels like an eternity), you nap.
It's near dark when you wake, and he's in the same place, muttering profanities and flipping through pages.
You would turn over and go back to sleep, but the rhythmic movements of his quill feather scribbling notes on a piece of scrap paper is... strangely hypnotic.
You find yourself crawling out of bed to attack (discreetly, like a true hunter), batting at the feather from under the desk.
"What the- Prefect!" Rollo scolds, moving his paper and quill to the other side of the desktop.
Two seconds later... fwifwifwip.
"Prefect, control yourself!"
He moves again, keeping a wary eye on his quill...
...And then, while his back is turned, you slap his inkwell off the table.
Like I could not emphasize enough how much it wouldn't matter to him at all. He would see the ears and tail and go, "Huh. Was that there before?" and then have a full couch nap with you curled up in his lap before remembering that you aren't a beastman.
...Guess he forgot?
I mean, you're so much a part of his life now that you may as well be. And Gidel looks up to you like a big sibling, so cat features fit the bill.
Anyway his second comment is that you should commit as much crime as possible before changing back, because then the police would be looking for a beastman and never track you down.
(You politely decline).
And then he uses you to guilt Rollo into buying everyone a fish dinner.
Best part, though? The cuddles.
Obviously.
Tiny cat beastman under one arm, big cat beastman under the other, both you and Gidel using him for his body heat... the combined purring is powerful enough to shake the house.
I don't think Skully could ever dislike anything about you.
It's you we're talking about, after all- whatever you are, were, or will be, he loves, because he loves you.
Cat today? Well, why not!
Every day you get weirder is a blessing to Skully J. Graves.
And cats are an iconic symbol of the Halloween season, don't you know? The perfect combination of spooky, cute, and chilling. An omen of bad luck... which, to him, is good luck!
Cross his path as many times as you'd please, dear omen of death!
You can't kill what's already dead, after all!
Could also imagine him using those scraps of cloth at the ends of his coat to play with you... not that you could ever catch him, he IS a ghost, after all, but it is ever so fun...
summary: NRC students react to rollo sweeping you off your feet
type of post: headcanons
characters: rollo, then ace, deuce, leona, azul, and malleus being jealous asfuck
information: romantic, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral (despite the title), 'rollo is a sweetheart' propaganda
When Rollo Flamme transferred to Night Raven College after the disastrous fire lotus ordeal, they'd been expecting chaos. Vitriol, hatred, fights, magic sparks flying, and definitely a lot of arson.
The Night Raven College students greeted him with magic pens drawn, a subtle warning: try it again and you're done for.
But Rollo Flamme is, in reality, a perfectly pleasant classmate when he's not trying to uproot the way of the world. A bit introverted, maybe a little cold and impersonal, but he wouldn't so much as sneer at the Night Raven College students in passing, and so all was forgotten (or, at least, put aside).
Ace and Deuce didn't like the thought of you sharing a dorm with that guy, not one bit!
It took a lot of talking (and cherry pie bribery) to get them to come around, and when a few months had passed with no incident to tell, they mellowed out
...Then, suddenly, you're inviting Rollo on all of your outings, and your trio (not including Grim) became a quartet
Tolerable until Ace and Deuce realized Rollo had not one bit of interest in them, and would only make pleasantries out of politeness, likely for their beloved Prefect's sake (he never leaves your side)
What's worse is that Rollo is doing all the gentlemanly stuff that they never bothered to- holding doors for you, pulling out your chair, offering to carry your things... why didn't they think of that!! He makes them both look like Grade A jerks without even glancing their way
Noble Bell College is all about manners and formalities, after all
They try to bounce back by doubling their gentlemanly behavior, but somehow always end up fighting about which one of the two gets to link arms with you while crossing the street, or give you his coat when it's cold
...Then Rollo goes ahead and does it anyway while they're busy bickering with one another
Leona didn't have any interest in Rollo to begin with
Listen, he wasn't at the masquerade ball. He never broke his back weeding fire lotuses, never singed off his eyebrows while battling in the bell tower (sorry, Azul), and in Leona's world, this meant they had no personal beef, thus he had no reason to care about the strange new transfer student
He wasn't even bugged that Rollo was being a perfect gentleman for you- in fact, he thought it was a good thing. Someone has to look out for you around here
It wasn't until he spotted you walking with him in the botanical gardens, when Rollo held out an arm to stop you mid-step
Leona narrows his eyes- trouble?
...But Rollo only points out that your shoelaces have loosened, and he kneels to tie them for you without thinking twice
Something about the gesture (and how CASUAL it is) makes Leona's eye twitch
He'll have to keep a better eye on that Rollo guy...
Azul didn't like Rollo to begin with, but now he's REALLY gotten on his nerves
The once kind, helpful Prefect, always willing to lend a hand (or an arm, or a leg, or a vital organ) to a fellow poor, unfortunate student, no matter the cost to themself?
...Suddenly saying no
Azul's art of the deal falls flat when Rollo is around, who delivers that steadfast and ready "No, thank you, good day," and whisks you away before Azul can even get a word in!
Not even the tweels are convincing- Rollo always makes you stand behind him when Floyd is around, and he refuses to even look at Jade
But it's not only that the Prefect is no longer an unpaid intern because of Rollo's intervention, it's that you actually listen to him
His judgments? His decisions? His muttered comments? You respect him enough to heed his warnings without question. You must think very highly of him...
...Azul can't help but feel a little jealous of that
Malleus was ready to put that nasty fire lotus business behind him
What? You thought he would be angry, vengeful, and possessive? Have you MET the guy? He takes no pleasure in hatred, violence is only a potential necessity, and, in all honesty, he was excited to have a member of the gargoyle studies club besides himself and the Prefect
...Maybe he puts too much faith in people, sometimes
Because Rollo Flamme maintained exactly zero interest in befriending, or even tolerating Malleus Draconia, and instead prefers following in your shadow, keeping his eyes pointed at potential threats to the magicless student he so adores
Malleus had never been particularly envious of your friendships with fickle, foolish boys, and besides that, your happiness was his happiness
...But this feels like Rollo is overstepping a boundary that Malleus didn't even know was there
He suddenly feels a great urge to have you closer, to impress you, to catch your attention
His displays of magic become even grander, his acts of chivalry even more dramatic, his kindness pushed to its limit (Sebek would kill hundreds to be in your position, but he was told to hold his tongue on the matter for the time being), and yet, still, you stay at Rollo's side
Malleus doesn't quite understand it. Cold, curt, and with more interest in old traditions than magical ingenuity, he seems like the very last person that you, of all people, would get along with
...And, yet...
Rollo walks you through the courtyard with linked arms, he always lets you have your first pick of the pastries he gets shipped from home, and he's sure to wrap an arm around your waist when he feels tension in the room, as if his first priority is always and forever keeping you safe
He speaks to you in that soft tone (reserved only for you, when he thinks no one is listening), and calls you dear Prefect
It would have angered Malleus, if it were anyone else- but this is someone he's beaten in battle before.... just on a different playing field
synopsis: twst characters help you deal w/ necklace mishaps :)
characters: floyd, ruggie, lilia
wc: 2.5k
part one features leona, riddle, and jamil
floyd leech - i am a surgeon
floyd leech was performing heart surgery in the middle of the mostro lounge with nothing but two forks stolen from the kitchen and patience he miraculously pulled from his ass.
the patient? your necklace, a terribly tangled silver blob of which you could find neither the beginning nor the end of. you couldn't even see the heart-shaped pendant from how twisted it was.
a half-empty cup of lemonade lies forgotten on the table, condensation pooling into a ring on the table, as floyd sits slumped over the table with his tongue sticking out and his brows knitted so intensely you were sure you'd have to untangle them next.
tossing your necklace in your bag and forgetting about it for four days was probably not a good move. by the time you remembered and dug it out, your necklace was nothing but a tight ball of knots.
you had told him that you already tried, that you had already spent hours - days, even - trying to separate it, to revive it. that untangling your necklace is an impossible task.
but floyd leech never backs away from a challenge once it catches his gleaming eye.
teal hair blocks a perfect view of your necklace, but you can tell by the position of floyd's hands that he's using the forks to help him separate the chain. the forks' prongs scraaapppee slowly against the table and you can feel azul tense beside you from the noise (or from the prospect of the table's surface being damaged).
the mostro lounge has never had a show quite like this. there'd be the occasional singer or band. jazz nights are always fun, and more frequent than one might think. there was even a time where azul tried out a professional juggler.
you had no idea watching someone untangle a necklace would draw such a crowd. at least fifteen people were watching.
"this has got to be the lock in of the century," an ignihyde student says, peering over your shoulder.
"i don't think i've ever seen floyd focus this much on one thing," another boy says. you recognize him to be a member of the basketball team. "he hasn't said a single word!"
"he's been here for a solid thirty minutes. how long's he gonna do this for?" a voice from behind you complains.
before you can answer, the forks clatter on the table in warning.
floyd whips his head up. "oh yeah? nobody's forcing you to watch, polychaete," he spits. "try shuttin' your trap for once. maybe then i'll actually get this thing done."
"whose stupid necklace is this anyway?" the boy shoots back, practically begging to die. when floyd bares rows of sharp teeth you know you have a millisecond to respond before the scene erupts into chaos and threatens to tangle your necklace further.
"it's my necklace," you say coldly. "you're welcome to give it a shot if you think you're such hot shit."
complete and utter silence pins the mostro lounge in place. nobody dares to clear their throat or shuffle their feet backwards. of course, nobody dares to approach and accept the challenge either. how can they when both you and floyd are eyeing them in such a manner?
a beat passes before floyd's head drops back down and the scraping of forks can be heard again.
"okay everyone!" azul claps suddenly. a few students jump at the sudden sound following the bout of tension. "nothing to see here. let's let our poor fellow student get back to work!"
the forks clatter again.
"I'M DONEEEEE!" floyd cries out. with one hand, he holds the necklace up high for you to see. proof of his triumph. and sure enough, he's accomplished in thirty minutes what you couldn't in three days: he's untangled your beloved heart necklace.
"floyd!" you cry, snatching your necklace from his hand and running straight into his now-open arms. they don't lose a second wrapping themselves around you.
"thank you so much," you mean to say, but the words are lost against his chest as he gives you the tightest squeeze of your life.
you squeeze right back.
the two of you are soon a tangled bundle of giggles, and when you finally part, your neck is sporting its iconic heart necklace once more.
ruggie bucchi - probable caws
really, truly, honestly, you have no idea where it went.
one minute, it was there on the table in the common area. the next, it wasn't. you had left the room for point three seconds because your roommate was yelling something at you from the corridor. turns out they were just telling you to shut the window, which they could have easily done themselves if they took five seconds out of their precious day.
you were certain someone had stolen it, though you haven't the slightest idea why. it wasn't particularly valuable, you tell yourself, only a string of faux pearls you got from a flea market several years ago.
still, it was trusted. it had kept you company throughout all that time without snapping. you had only taken it off just that one time to examine the clasp and make sure it was still in good shape.
guess that was a mistake.
it wasn't particularly valuable, and yet you were exceptionally upset.
ruggie doesn't even bother to ask if you need help, he starts searching for it as soon as you tell him.
while you search the floor of the lounge, pushing stuffy armchairs aside and upending carpets, ruggie takes on the role of lead detective and interrogates everyone in the vicinity on their whereabouts and alibis. but after nearly an hour of searching you find neither truth nor clue, only the realization that maybe not all cases are meant to be solved.
ruggie can tell you feel bad for wasting his time. he can tell you're thinking of if onlys and should'ves.
if only you had paid more attention.
if only that window was shut.
you should've kept your necklace on.
you should've smacked your roommate and told them to close whatever window they please themselves.
when he puts his hand on your shoulder, he feels like a different person. birds twitter from within the tree outside and the wind rustles the leaves. ruggie's hair swirls in a calm wave of soft brown locks.
"let's go to class for now," ruggie says, grounding, reliable, and sure. "we'll keep looking."
there's no deception in the pale blue of his eyes, no hint of jest or empty words. like he, too, lost something once and knows how important it is to keep looking even when you don't know where exactly to direct your gaze. to believe that what is yours will come, so long as you have the drive to seek it.
you nod, feeling empty and jittery at once. he squeezes your hand reassuringly before the two of you part and head to your respective classes.
ruggie whips his head around to watch your retreating figure, ensuring you've rounded the corner before he does a full one-eighty and beelines right back into the common area.
he searches the carpet, between the cushions, the table. he cross-examines the people in your dorm. he talks your roommate into letting him in to search your room. he even whips out a magnifying class and inspects every inch of the place.
his verdict comes inconclusive.
your necklace is not in the room, and was not stolen by anyone. it had simply and impossibly and inexplicably vanished into thin air.
into thin air.
into thin air?
it hits ruggie instantly.
the open window!
there is no chattering of birds as ruggie hops through the windowsill to search the ground beneath it. he knows they're there though, watching.
"hey," he loud-whispers to the tree. "have you seen a pearl necklace 'round here?"
"i can't say, i can't say!" a voice replies. it's almost musical with how light it is, and ruggie recognizes the accent to be one of a young poecile.
"he's mean, he's mean, he's mean!" another voice replies, similar in cadence.
"who? you can tell me, you can tell me," ruggie insists.
seven bless animal linguistics.
"he's too big, much too big! big and mean and scary," a third voice adds.
"who, who?" ruggie feels much like an owl. "i'll help ya out, i swear!"
the three little birds murmur between themselves, their language too colloquial for him to understand in full.
"shiny, shiny into the tree. that tree's all his, and not for me!" the third chirps finally. the three birds take to the sky and head right for the forest without looking back.
ruggie's on the hunt a moment later, scanning every nearby tree until he spots it dangling from the limb of a tree, glittering in full glory. he has to stand on the tips of his toes to reach it, but as his index makes contact with your beloved necklace, an agitated, accusatory cry nearly blasts his eardrums open.
an inky black crow stares ruggie right in the eye, daring him to get closer.
"i don't speak corvus," ruggie calmly says in poecile. "and i don't care much to try to understand. i have to deal enough with our headmage as it is."
ruggie loops his finger around your necklace. the crow puffs its feathers up and screeches once more.
"life's not easy," ruggie continues, sliding your necklace off the branch, "but you should only steal what you need to survive. don't you know what happens if you get caught?"
ruggie's ears are flushed back, eyes gleaming with mischief, and the crow - about to pierce the air with another scream - changes its mind midway through. a strange and silent understanding passes between the two, odd pair they are.
hyenas and crows. necrophagous and unlucky. sly only because nature forces them to be.
ruggie holds the necklace up. "i'm taking this back." gesturing to the trees in the area, ruggie hits the final nail in the head. "and this is my territory now, so i don't wanna hear about any trouble. my friends live here, you see."
the crow gives one final screech and flies up in a blur of black, away and away until ruggie can see it no more.
three small birds can be seen landing on the tree outside the window as you return to the lounge, uneasy from the animal languages quiz you probably just bombed and from the prospect of never finding your necklace ever again.
"ruggie!" you call out, breaking into a smile as you spot his approaching figure. "how was class?"
"same old, same old. mostly just practicing stuff."
behind his back, ruggie thumbs the pearls in his hand, white and shiny. it's an inexpensive imitation he knows would receive your richest smile upon its return.
ruggie can't wait to give it to you.
and maybe, one day he'll be able to give you the real thing too.
lilia vanrouge - machiavellian
the end always justifies the means.
were you losing your mind because your necklace had gone missing? yes. the whole cafeteria knew about it.
but it was worth it!
unbeknownst to you, the culprit was right there beside you, munching on mediocre cafeteria lunch like he didn't just swipe your necklace right off your neck without you noticing just so he can clean it.
the silver was tarnishing - what else was he supposed to do! asking you if he could polish it would be no fun. no fun at all.
it was actually too easy to steal your necklace. the choice between flan and cheesecake must have been too much for your poor, indecisive mind. you barely reacted when he made his move. centuries of living, training, scouting have honed lilia's muscles and instincts to spot an opening before it shows itself. if you can move before your opponent has time to react, victory is assured.
you barely even blinked.
he out to scold you for that, then train you to do better. he's might not always be around after all.
technically, the necklace was his. he had come across it during his travels when he accidentally stumbled upon an ancient cave filled with wild, one-of-a kind riches and shelves and shelves of ancient scrolls.
he doesn't know what compelled his hand to reach for it, but something deep within him back then must have known you were coming along, because the necklace he found suited you too well.
it wasn't overly ostentatious or bejeweled with fat gems to weigh you down. it was simply you.
despite the fact that it was obviously valuable, the silver chain and jewel looked tarnished and faded. apparently spending a millennia in an underground cave and then another few centuries in the bottom of a drawer and then three years at night raven college doesn't keep a necklace in pristine condition.
he had cleaned it before giving it to you, of course, but maybe there's just something in the air on sage's island that wants to dim the light of anything that shines too brightly.
"your cheesecake is softening," lilia notes calmly, pointing to your untouched plate.
"lilia," you say, "my necklace is missing. how can i possibly eat at a time like this?" you furiously rub at your eyes with the sleeve of your uniform and try to ignore your scudding mind and the lump in your throat. "you gave it to me."
"don't worry my love," he assures in that all-knowing tone of his, "it'll turn up."
"but you gave it to me," you repeat. "you gave it to me and i lost it."
"nothing is ever truly lost. maybe you simply forgot it on your nightstand?"
"maybe..."
grabbing your fork tightly, you finally dig into your room-temperature cheesecake, deciding to look for it after classes are over.
lilia gives you a soft smile.
how fragile the human heart is, how easily it believes. even so, the end always justifies the means. sometimes a little suffering is necessary.
you find the necklace on the small table beside your bed, just like lilia said. somehow he always seems to know everything.
as you hold it up to the light, the big green gem in the center twinkles before you, beaming and wonderous. you wonder who else had worn it before you, what they were like, what memories they held. has the necklace always been this bright?
"it was looking rather sad so i polished it for you," lilia calls from your doorway. you hadn't even heard him enter.
"you could have told me," you say, voice holding no malice.
"i didn't know you liked it that much."
"of course i did. you gave it to me."
"you look rather good with it on." lilia gives you a cheeky smile. "it's a stylish piece, though i daresay it doesn't compare to you."
you step closer. "daresay?" you whisper, tilting your head to the side.
lilia puts his hands up in surrender. "heheh...you caught me. i know it doesn't."
you laugh.
it was a little enjoyable to watch you squirm and panic in the cafeteria, he must confess, but nothing compares to the sight of your eyes crinkling with mirth, the melodic sound of your joy.
the necklace is only part of a matching set. if he ever craves to hear that sound ring true again, he can always gift you the earrings.
or the bracelet.
or the crown.
a/n: thank you for reading <3 i'm down to write another part if there are any other characters you'd like to see!
አsummary: Your (not so) quiet crush on Sanji through Namiâs eyes
አpairing: Sanji x fem!reader
አwarnings: Disgusting(ly bad) flirting :D not an established relationship but they act like a couple anyway! reader with long-ish hairr, she's chalant af
Nami finds out about your crush on Sanji during girls night.Â
You donât know what was better, when no one knew about this thing you had for him, or having your best friend aware, which meant that you finally had someone else to rave on about Sanji and everything that he is.Â
She calls you âlameâ, but the truth is that you are helpless.Â
Youâre seated on a twirly chair in front of the vanity, right foot up on the cushioned surface to better polish your toes. Theyâre a vivid coral, matching the ones on your fingers. Namiâs lying upside down on her cot across from you, hands behind her head and feet up against the wall like itâs nobodyâs business. She's finished her toes already, all coated in a beautiful teal that compliments her hair.
Everything is perfect tonight. As perfect as being bountied pirates on a ship can get. The flower scented candles around the girlsâ cabin run warm, making sweetness blossom around the room. Your beds are made perfectly, pillows fluffed up just the way you like it. You and Nami move with an unspoken understanding, of unwinding and finally taking time to yourselves after a day full of adventure.Â
The sound of the sea has been quietly lulling the two of you into peace, though you have to delay your sleep for an extra hour of chatting away your complaints.
Girls night always welcomes honestyâwhen you and Nami can talk about everything the boys would never understand. And sheâs being real truthful alright, hand enthusiastically waving around like a maestro to her own words.Â
And of course, the current topic of conversation was the blonde, women-loving cook in your crew.Â
Nami can be blunt, to say the least. Itâs what you appreciate most about her, although you wish sheâd soften her words up just a little bit.Â
Or maybe try to see him the way you do.
âHeâs a lot.â
Sheâs talking about typical Sanji behavior. The incessant flirting, the hovering and his I-live-to-serve-women attitude, which sheâs convinced is some type of overcompensation.Â
You definitely donât think itâs annoying. If anything, you think itâs really sweet that he tries his hardest to impress Nami.Â
Matter of fact, you love it when he tries to impress the girls on this ship. Fortunately for you, the only two available ones include an independent, no-bullshit navigator who doesnât easily fall for his smooth-talking. Now that just leaves him to focus more of his affection onto you, and you absolutely love being the center of his attention.
You bite your lips, trying to hold back your laughter. âI mean, heâs intense for sure.â
She rolls her eyes at your attempts to soften her complaints, and she truly canât find it in her to understand why you would defend the cook. âAnnoying.â
âI think itâs kind of cute.â
A beat of silence.Â
And then Nami literally whips her head to face you so fast youâd think you were a treasure made of a trillion berries.
The sight sheâs greeted with is one she will never forget. And not in a pleasant way, because you look positively, 100%, absolutely sure about the words you just uttered out of your mouth.
Youâre hugging both your legs up to your chest, lips still bitten in a silent restraint. Youâre actually melting into yourself, lost somewhere in the clouds as you swing yourself right and left in your chair.Â
Where do you even begin?Â
From memorizing your likes and dislikes,âand not just about foodâattending to your needs, whether you voice them or not, and genuinely wanting to know you for who you are. Sanji somehow manages to embrace who you were, who you are now and who you hope to become in the future, all in the same breath.Â
He is never quiet with the way he loves. God forbid he doesnât worry about others for even one day. Heâs dramatic, over-the-top, theatrical. All the synonyms of spectacular you can find in the dictionary. But also grounded, selfless, and so genuine that it makes your teeth ache and your heart clench erratically.Â
Sanji treats you with a kind of gentleness that makes you think youâre the most precious diamond in the Blue Sea. You are. To him. He never ceases to convince you of so.Â
So itâs an absolute no-brainer that you think he is the one for you. If not the only man ever. And, the fact that you arenât alone in this fortifies your belief. You and Sanji have your own thing. A quiet game that only you seem to understand the rules of. A kind of connection that isnât defined by or bound to labels; one that grew from quiet glances and secret smiles. The others may not noticeâfor now. Theyâd probably brush it off as you being kind to Sanji and finding genuine friendship in him.Â
But you like it that way, and you really, really like him. You donât need to say it out loud, because youâre sure he knows you do. Youâre content with what you have because you can feel it that he reciprocates.Â
You are his just as much as he is yours.Â
âSay that again.â Nami pumps out the sentence like she canât believe her own ears. Sheâs fully upright now, propping her upper body with her hands. She leans towards you as if itâll make her hear better.Â
âI think..â you mimic her pose and lean your chest forward, palms resting on both knees as if preparing to tell her a secret, ââthat heâs kind of cute.â
Itâs he, now. Not it, anymore.Â
God, you are hopeless. And crazy.Â
âYouâre kidding.â The navigator hits you with the most deadpan stare youâve ever seen her muster in her life.
Nami tries to look back at all your past interactions with Sanji. From the first time you joined the crew to the most recent ones. Then it all clicks for herâlike a puzzle piece to answer a question sheâs never bothered to ask.Â
It starts with the way you get quiet when Sanjiâs around, a secret smile and an undeniable warmth seldom missing from your face. Gosh, youâre so shy when he talks to you sometimes. Itâs crazy that it didnât register to her because youâre typically always so sure of yourself. Then itâs how you never, ever brush off his attempts at flattery. How your sweet compliments always seemed to be drowned out by Luffyâs shouts and Zoroâs arguing. She looks back at the way you naturally gravitate towards him. It didn't matter if you were on the ship, jumping from island-to-island, in the middle of a fight or simply lounging around with the rest of the crew, you always found your way right beside him.Â
Huh.Â
It was all in her face the entire time. Loud and apologetic. She feels silly at the fact that sheâs never thought to even look because she couldnât fathom that any woman could genuinely put up with him. And you never denied anything eitherânot when there wasnât anything to deny in the first place.Â
Her words set you off like a pirate looking for the one piece.Â
âNami donât you ever dream of a guy whoâll sweep you off your feet?â
Youâre breathless, absolutely lost in your own daydreams as you twirl around your chair with a force that could blow the Going Merry across the Grand Line. There are stars in your eyes, genuinely. Your hands shoot up in a rainbow above your head, and your body melts further into the seat.Â
Somethingâs definitely gotten into you.
âAnd Sanjiâs that guy for you?!â She exclaims. You watch her go through all the 7 stages of grief in the span of 3 seconds.Â
You laugh at her silliness, and then youâre back to swooning again.
It was as if sheâd unlocked your inner beast. A lovesick, crazy girl who was spouting her dreams of romance and everything that was butterflies and rainbows. A woman who was absolutely mooning over Sanji.
From then on the navigator makes it her mission to uncover where this crush of yours came from. She can try asking the rest of the crew, but sheâs 98% sure the boys are oblivious to this, or simply arenât as perturbed as she is. (Because how has no one questioned this before?!)
Starting wasnât hard. At all. Turns out you and Sanji are shameless. It just takes the right time for someone to pay attention and see how deep the connection runs between the two of you.Â
It happens bright and early a few days later. Namiâby instinct or intuitionâwoke up to an empty cabin. Your bed looked freshly mussed, like you couldnât be bothered to tidy it up before getting up. She looked through the small window, greeted by the sight of the barely peeking sun in the darkness of the horizon. Way too early for anyone to be up. Except for Sanji, who she knows is already prepping for breakfast in the galley. And conveniently, you seem to be missing in action as well. It doesn't take much to put two and two together.Â
She catches you right as you are entering the kitchen.
Of course, Sanji is already busying himself on the counter, chopping an array of fresh fruits intoâwhat Nami canât seeâhearts.
It barely takes a second for you to enter before Sanji is calling out to you, gaze immediately snapping towards your figure. He doesnât need his sight to know that itâs you. He canât admit that itâs because heâs memorized the weight of your steps on the ship, and the sweet scent of your perfumed clothes.Â
A lit cigarette hangs off from his lips, though he quickly puts it away when you make your way to the dining table.Â
You rub your eyes tiredly, hand then moving down to hug yourself closer in an attempt to chase some warmth. âHi, Sanji.â
Heâs melting at the sight of you.Â
This might just be his favorite part of the morning, second only to when you start talking to him. Youâre in your pajamas still, shirt hanging loosely over your bare shoulders. Absolutely radiant, and so domestic. You can barely open your eyes in the morning sun, and the way you carry yourself feels heavier, but more honest. Relaxed. A good sign that you slept well.Â
Sanji doesnât fight off the small flush that makes itself known across his face.
âDo you know that every time you say my name an angel gains its wings?â
You grin at the early morning flattery while you settle down on your seat. You could look like the messiest thing on the ship and Sanji will find a way to compliment you regardless. âHeaven must love me,â
âHeaven would be a fool not to love you, darling.â It doesnât take even a beat for him to answer, and the cook puts down his knife to come closer. He makes a point to lean his face down to yours to greet you with an open teeth grin.Â
And that genuinely brings a giggle out of you, leaving Nami mildly disgusted.Â
When he's finally seen your smile, he returns back to the stove, slathering butter over the surface of a pan. The familiar rich aroma and the oddly calming sizzling sound makes you soften into yourself. You slouch onto the countertop, folding your elbows into each other and laying your chin on top. âI take it that this is a good morning for you?â
âEveryday better when I see your beautiful face.â He curls his lips into a smile, sneaking a quick glance at you before winking.Â
Thank goodness he goes back to focusing on the pan because you are already throwing your face away to the sea, pursing your lips in a barely restrained smile before burying yourself into the crook of your arms, releasing a hidden breath.Â
Sanji, that sly man, takes a quick peek from his shoulders. Seeing you, confident you, turn into a flustered puddle from his words makes him puff up so quickly. He wears his pride so boldly on his chest. No one could tell him anything for the rest of the day, and it was insufferable.Â
Unbeknownst to you, heâs already started on your breakfast. He knows that youâre an early riser, and that you will almost always seek him out first thing in the morning. So everyday he sets out your breakfast ingredients and preps as much as he can. He doesnât start cooking them before he sees your face, because he only wants the most warm and freshly cooked meal for you.
You notice it though, the way he always serves you first, no matter the time and place. Dinner? A plate of the finest meat for you first (Luffy hates it.) Going over logs with Nami? All the snacks you like are immediately placed in front of you, and a drink to compliment it following behind. He always thinks about your needs first, and if that isnât love then you donât know what to believe.Â
Just as you are in the middle of your daydreaming, Sanji interrupts with the sound of cutlery against porcelain. Heâs plating up your mouth-watering breakfast, made to absolute perfection.Â
âFor you madam, golden brown honey toast with freshly whipped cream on top,â he dishes out the plate in front of you, and the aroma itself sends you straight to heaven. ââextra fruit, just the way you like it.â
You didnât think it was possible to fall deeper in love with him, but youâre proven wrong once you see the fruits that decorate your toast, all of them heart shaped. Both hand-cut and perfectly uniform using the cutter he specifically bought to use for your meals.Â
You gasp in exaggeration, though deep inside youâre aching about how sweet he is to remember your preferences. âYou spoil me,â
âOnly the best for my favorite Strawhat.â He answers, pouring you a glass of freshly brewed coffee.Â
Youâre in the middle of cutting your toast in half when you look up at him, teasing by saying, âDonât let the captain hear you say that.â
Sanji exclaims back to you in all his confidence, turning away as he places the pot on the counter. âBah! One sirloin steak and heâll forgive me like it never happened.â
Your giggle is like the brightest melody in his ears, and the words that follow it could bring him back from the dead. âThank you, my chef~â
âYou know my heart canât take it,â He playfully sighs out your name, clutching his chest. Sanji stands across the table now, resting his chin on his hand against the counter top. Just happy to watch you.
âDelicious!â You continue to shoot honeyed words at him, not just as a means for him to keep sweet-talking you, but also because you think Sanji deserves all the love and goodness of this world.Â
âSing me your praises, my angel of music,â
Nami can almost see him propel himself to the sky with giddiness.Â
âSo perfectly crunchy,â
ââand Iâm yours forever.â He takes your hand in his from across the aisle, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles as he looks up at you.Â
Nami felt chills sweeping up her spine.Â
You guys were so cheesy. But sort of.. cute. That was something she couldnât deny. Sheâs never seen Sanji this genuine, and when someone actually reciprocates, it makes him look less like a fool.Â
And the way you were bouncing back and forth on each other was like a sick game of ping-pong she couldnât look away from.
She couldnât figure out for the life of her why you two arenât together already. Itâs perfectly clear that you both feel the same way, and arenât afraid to act upon it. A small part of her wants to meddle, and sheâs halfway into a plan thatâll somehow get either of you to confess to each other, but then she abruptly stops.
Eh, you guys will sort that out yourselves. Eventually. You look like youâre exactly where you want to be. So, Nami shrugs and beelines into the kitchen, hoping to get a fresh plate of breakfast seeing that heâs already started with yours.Â
The next time Nami catches a moment between the two of you wasnât intentional. Right, because she wouldnât be caught dead seeking the conversations you and Sanji had after that traumatizing event.Â
It was late at night. For once a quiet one between all the chaos that seemed to follow the Strawhat Pirates. Luffy was snoring away somewhere with a full belly, Ussop tinkering away in his cabin, and Zoro likely in the crowâs nest. Nami decided to look for fresh air, feeling a little bit holed up inside her room. Between the gentle rocking of the sea and the soft melody of the waves, it was the perfect atmosphere to spend watching the horizon.Â
She didnât mean to overhear your conversation, but the door was open and a ship doesnât exactly leave much room for privacy. She tried to leave the two of you alone at first, but found herself leaning against the galley wall to listen in in the end.Â
When she takes a peek through the door, she finds you seated still and pretty on the stool close to him, cross-legged in your pajamas. Like a sous chef who wasnât really a sous chef but boosted the cook all the sameâif not a million times more.Â
When you first got to the galley, you paid mind to his laser-focused expression. You didn't want to break his flow, so you stuck yourself against the counter at a distance. You were content with the picture of him from afar, but Sanji had absolutely none of it. He began your conversation of the night while silently dragging a stool and placing it right next to him by the stove. Safely away from getting blasted by the heat, but close enough to where he could feel you around him and talk to you without feeling a million miles away.Â
Heâs got on one of your top favorite get-ups: a classic blue striped dress-shirt unbuttoned just the right amount and his pink Doskoi Panda apron tied around the back. Sleeves deliciously rolled up to his elbows for a bonus. Though Nami isnât attracted to him the way you are, she isnât blind. She has to admit that the image of his forearms are a sight for sore eyes. Sanji can be quite charming at times, mostly when he keeps the talking to a minimum and does what he does best.Â
Youâre not even hiding it at this point, gaze tracking every languid move of his hands like you were hypnotized.Â
Itâs not hard for you to admire him when heâs deep in his element. You find yourself going quiet, not because you donât want to talk to him, but because itâs mesmerizing to see the way he commands the kitchen like his own battleship.
Thereâs a small smile on your lips as you take in the passion he carries, and on your lap you fidget with the shiny silver ring on your thumb. Itâs his ringâyour favorite one that's shaped like a skullâthat he gave to you for âsafekeepingâ, even though Sanji never ever takes them off. Even when heâs cooking. Itâs incredibly intimate; a symbol of his trust for you.
Heâs just finished cooking a dish of his own creation. A classic menu made of meat, but a little more experimental with the seasoning. You can only describe it as heaven in a plate, sweet and savory at the same time, with a hint of something that you can't fully describe with words. Yet, you enjoy it for all that it is, and the delectable fragrance isn't something to complain about, either. Itâs almost shocking that Luffy hasnât come running down the kitchen from the smell alone. Sanji isnât technically done with the recipe, seeing as heâs trying to perfect the ingredients being used. He has his worn-out notepad by the counter, filled with endless scribbles and notes of improvement. The cook will come back to it once youâve given your own comments on the taste.
Once finished turning down the heat, he takes a clean spoon out of the cabinet and offers you a small portion fresh out of the pan, where the dish was still simmering in the heat.Â
You feel honored that you are Sanjiâs unofficial taste-tester. The first time you came across the cook experimenting with new creations was a complete coincidence. That particular night youâd been restless in bed, stomach aching for a bite of food. You ended up pattering into the galley to get maybe a few crackers, a slice of bread or cheese or something thatâd temporarily distract you. But you didnât expect to feast on a five star meal once Sanji found out you were hungry. You? His precious princess starving? Not on this ship.Â
What began as compliments to the chef turned into fully fledged reviews of each flavor profile, and eventually became something more intimate. A space for honesty just for you and Sanji.Â
You like to think thatâs where you found the real Sanji. The kind heart beyond the ladies man, the truths behind his endless honeyed words.Â
You sought him out like a moth to a flame, and every night Sanji welcomed you with open arms.Â
Most of the times you were there to actually be his taste-tester, which is just his excuse of having a private late dinner with you. But, other times heâs prepping meals for the next day and youâre simply there to keep him company. Either way, youâll never skip out on an opportunity to spend time alone with Sanji.
Funnily enough, more than once youâve caught Luffy sneaking in and rummaging through the pantry, already halfway stuffing his face with something that makes Sanji tick before he notices that the two of you are occupying the room. Itâs a bit adorable that he doesnât make a fuss about it. He never questions anything beyond âHey⊠are you sneaking for snacks too?!â and then an âOkay!â followed by his high pitched laughter after Sanji kicks him out for offering you the stolen goods from his sticky hands.Â
You take notice that he never lets Luffy get a bite of his cooking. Sure, if the captain asks, Sanji will make him something, but not from the same pan. A different dish all together. You think that maybe itâs because he isnât open to someone tasting something he considers isnât âperfectâ yet, but another part of you just believes that itâs because he only trusts you to give him the honest truth.Â
Still, you find it hard to believe heâd ever need one, considering everything that he makes turns out flawless.Â
âMore seasoning?â The cook watches as you chew on the meat slowly.
You shake your head in disagreement. âNo, this is perfect, Sanji.â
âNot too sweet for you?âÂ
Nami sees you visibly recoil at his questions, body moving as if he was spouting blasphemy.Â
Heâs got his back turned to you while he rinses his hands over the sink, so he canât see the flabbergasted frown on your face.
âThis is quite possibly the best thing Iâve ever tasted in my life.â You make an emphasis on the word âbestâ, sticking the wooden spoon back at him to signal that you wanted more.
âYou flatter me, angel.â He grins, pulling the dish towel from his shoulders to wipe his hand. Then he goes straight to follow your command exactly and dips right back into the pan, scooping up a portion before blowing it softly to cool it down.Â
Youâre practically vibrating in your seat, legs bouncing and arms holding up the weight of your body as you lean towards him.Â
âNope. Iâm just sayinâ the truth!â The words come with a pause as youâre swallowing your last bite, and the brightness comes right back up your face while you praise Sanji.
By the All Blue, he just wants to scoop you up and squeeze you in his arms for all eternity. You can be so shy around him, but also incredibly animated when expressing yourself.Â
Once Sanji deems it the perfect condition for you, he motions the spoon to your mouth.
Itâs a stupidly sweet gesture, and also his way of stopping you from eating the whole thing. You can just take the spoon from him and feed yourself, but youâd be lying if you said you didnât like being pampered by Sanji. Youâre not ashamed to admit that it makes you feel very special. If you truly weaponized your voice and asked him for the whole pan, heâd give it to you without a single doubt. But, itâd be a shame if he didnât wait until he could properly serve it with some rice so you could have your very late dinner âdateâ.
He holds the spoon out for a beat longer to look down at the way your lips wrap around the surface, turning away only when you finish munching happily at the taste. After all, your satisfaction is his number one priority. Nami canât see your face from where sheâs at, but she can absolutely make out Sanjiâs, and the way heâs staring is sensual, borderline debauched. It makes the navigator feel like sheâs intruding on a private moment.
You are none the wiser to this, Sanji needs to get it together, and Namiâs very close to throwing up in front of the galley.Â
Your eyes are closed as you hum contentedly once the flavors settle nicely in your stomach, and itâs then when you start to feel the weight of his stare.Â
Youâre only chin level on this short stool, so you have to look up to meet his eyes.
He's quiet and awfully still, taking you all in and leaving no part of you starving for his attention. There's an evident tension swimming around the kitchen, and it makes you acutely aware of just how close you are to him. Inches away. The position is a tad intimate, to say the least.
âWhat? Is there sauce on my face?âÂ
You know there isnât anything on your face except for pure happiness, though youâre a tiny bit flustered by his attention.Â
âSorry, darling,â He's not sorry at all. He leans in to wipe the non-existent sauce, and for a second you think heâs going to deny his obvious admiration of you but then he pivots into something that is so Sanji it makes your brain melt.Â
âYour beauty demands to be seen. I canât deny you that.â He traces the back of his finger over your cheek before tucking a stray hair behind your ear.Â
Time and time again, Sanji is able to surpass your every expectation. You continue to feel the weight of his stare, now much different than before because he looks at you with deep, unabashed, reverence. Not hidden, and not in halves. A softness he reserves only for you.
Youâre speechless for a moment, but then he cups your face into his palms and it feels like everything just melts away.Â
Now Nami understands. Why you adore him so much. Why you donât need to scream it out to the world that you love him (although you would love to). The two of you arenât âtogetherâ officially not because you donât want to, or are too shy to say it out loud. But because you enjoy every part of who he is. The chasing, the teasing, the thrill; itâs everything in him that makes you feel alive. You donât need words for him to understand that you love him, just as he doesnât.Â
Nami watches the way you look up at him, positively beaming. The silence is broken away when you start giggling to yourself, and it only makes Sanji move closer to you, his forehead bumping gently against yours as he sports an identical grin on his face.
She shakes her head, both astonished and happy to see you flourishing in his presence, before walking away with an affectionate eye-roll.
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