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#and kyla is the best
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me and my homegirl.
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pocfiction · 1 year
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Morris Chestnut as Lance Sullivan The Best Man (1999) dir. Malcolm D. Lee
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tyunni · 2 months
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the riki aquarium date hc was made just for u how’d yk fr🌚
ARE U SERIOUSDBEJDBSJE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KYLA IM GOING TO KILL MYSELFNRJSBDJWDHWJSJWJEJWJDHEJDJE I WAS LIKE omg thats kinda me hold awp OH U LOVE ME SO BADNSJSHWJDJWJEJEJE im crying 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 oh ure gonna get SOMETHING abt jake dedicated to you just u wait
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therunwayarchive · 1 year
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Pre-Fall 2022 Part 1
Alessandra Rich
Area
Blumarine
Carolina Herrera
Christopher John Rogers
David Koma
Diotima
Elie Saab
Etro
Jason Wu Collection
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butch-reidentified · 7 months
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you’ve actually killed someone? (no judgement 💛)
#1 💛
unrelated, but I had just woke up a bit ago, right? so, I drifted off again for a sec when I was going to do this answer, & when I opened my eyes literally seconds later this gif was just here??? 🤣🤣 never seen it before, and when I opened the gifs menu nothing at all like this was there... tf? where did it come from!
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nxttheendxfthestxry · 9 months
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Closed Starter: Making Introductions (Kyla/Xinyi/Oakley)
Kyla taps her pen on the table in front of her, glancing up and smiling when she spots Oakley, waving to get his attention. Beautiful day, beautiful reason to be outside, beautiful excuse for Xinyi to pull up. “Hey. She’ll be along shortly,” she adds when he sits down, a little quieter. “I think you’ll like her.”
Xinyi was, as always, skating in her free time. They had a jam coming up soon, so it was good practice, and a good excuse to be out and about. As she rounds the corner past Kyla again, she sees someone pulling up to sit with her. Ah, finally.
The dragon, finally changing up her path, manages to, for once in her life, very smoothly pull up to the table and drop into a seat beside Kyla, catching her breath. “You don’t mind if I sit here, right?” She asks the question loudly as she looks back at the two of them, glancing to the boy and grinning with the tiniest wink.
Kyla reaches into her bag, coming back holding out a water bottle... with a few paper towels between her and the condensation on the bottle.
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@storystartsanew​
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half-milk-equation · 1 year
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what bracket would y'all vote in
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scortchedtoast · 1 year
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Was just remembering the Pristin days and they were so dark.
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hsmagazine254 · 2 months
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Edge of Collapse: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Book 1 of 7 by Kyla Stone
Edge of Collapse: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Book 1 of 7 H&S Magazine’s Recommended Book Of The Week Edge of Collapse by Kyla Stone Surviving the Unthinkable: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller In the dead of winter, an EMP attack destroys the U.S. power grid. No electricity. No cars or phones. The country is plunged into instant chaos. But for Hannah Sheridan, it’s the best day of her life.…
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t0bi44 · 5 months
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ThINKiNG of YoU .
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newmusickarl · 1 year
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Top 50 Albums of 2022: #30-21
30. Being Funny In A Foreign Language by The 1975
They may be the biggest Marmite band around, but there is no denying that The 1975 are operating at an artistic level that few of their mainstream pop peers can reach. In fact, I still find it so strange that a band as avant-garde as they are, have the global fanbase that they do. But then when you listen to an album as consistently joyous and effortlessly timeless as Being Funny In A Foreign Language, it all starts to make sense.
Funktastic single Happiness is one of the biggest highlights, delivering exactly what it says on the tin. Still one of their finest tracks to date, it’s impossible not to get swept away by the vintage 80s style guitar groove, wonderfully polished production and instantly catchy chorus of “Show me your love, why don’t you?”
That said, when the band deviate from their typical sound, that’s where the album really shines. Part of the Band is an artsy, string-tinged and quietly understated track, with some impressive lyrical gymnastics, whilst All I Need To Hearis a stripped-back and classic-sounding love song that is carried by Matty Healy’s poetic songwriting and the raw, live production.
Supposedly the working title for Being Funny In A Foreign Language was The 1975 At Their Very Best, and whilst the jury is still out on that, it is another excellent addition to their discography and one of my 30 favourite albums of the year.
Best tracks: Happiness, All I Need To Hear, The 1975
Listen here
29. Cheat Codes by Danger Mouse & Black Thought
Sometimes you look at a collaboration on paper and think “Man, that sounds amazing.” Then you listen to it and its somehow even better than you expected.
That exact thing happened to me earlier this year when I saw musician and producer Danger Mouse had teamed up with Black Thought, the lead MC of legendary hip hop collective The Roots. Based on that combination I went into the first play of their collaborative project thinking it would be great, but despite the high expectations I still came away thinking it was one of the best hip hop records of the year.
Across the album’s snappy 38-minute runtime, Danger Mouse chairs the artfully produced beats that simply shine with vintage soul, funk and psychedelia, whilst Black Thought spins his smooth, old-school flow with exquisite delivery. As if the combination of those two wasn’t enough either, Cheat Codes is littered with glittering guest spots from the likes of Michael Kiwanuka, Run The Jewels, A$AP Rocky, Raekwon and even the late-great MF Doom. With those classic 70s sounds and so many modern greats operating at the top of their game, it’s a record that feels instantly timeless.
Best tracks: Aquamarine, Belize, The Darkest Part
Listen here
28. Heart Under by Just Mustard
I had some incredible musical discoveries in 2022, but without a doubt one of my favourites has been Just Mustard. Here is what I had to say about their breathtakingly innovative second album back in May:
““This is just a piece of wood with some metal strings attached – you can do whatever you want with it.” If you have never heard the music of Irish quintet Just Mustard before, then this philosophy from guitarist Mete Kalyoncuoglu may offer some early insight into just how they operate. Although they are at their core a traditional five-piece, their distinctive brand of experimental shoegaze sounds like it is being conducted and transmitted by a grand, brooding orchestra from a fantasy realm. It’s dark, otherworldly, and quite frequently brilliant.
Having established themselves off the back of their ultra-raw 2018 debut Wednesday, this sophomore effort from Just Mustard sees them further push the sonic boundaries of their instruments, whilst also bringing in renowned producer David Wrench to further finesse their ambitious soundscapes. Fuelled by lockdown frustrations, artistic struggles and personal grief, the result is an emotional and hugely impressive second outing that firmly builds on the foundations laid by its predecessor.”
Best tracks: Mirrors, Still, Early
Read my full review for Gigwise here
Listen here
27. Autofiction by Suede
Suede have been steadily aging like a fine wine ever since their reformation twelve years ago and in 2022, they even served up one of their finest projects so far in the form of their outstanding ninth studio album, Autofiction.
Where Night Thoughts and The Blue Hour wrapped their anthemic alt-rock in string-tinged majesty, Autofiction brings things back down to basics. It is both a harken back to their early sound to please old school fans, but also a refreshing step forward for those who have followed their comeback journey. Here they harness that raw energy they had in the beginning, but channel it through their naturally more polished musicianship, gained from their now 30+ years in the business.
Most importantly though, every song on here is as good as the last, making it one of their strongest and most consistent records to date. From the opening buzz of lead single She Still Leads Me On, the angsty stomp of the punk-influenced Personality Disorder, the spiralling riffs of The Only Way I Can Love You and Brett Anderson’s falsetto crooning amidst menacing guitars on That Boy On The Stage, it’s just an utterly spellbinding listen from start to finish.
Best tracks: That Boy On The Stage, What Am I Without You, She Still Leads Me On
Listen here
26. Dawn of the Freak by The Haunted Youth
During Album of the Year season, I like to ask the Music Twitter community on some of their favourite records of the year, so that I can hopefully catch up on any gems that I might’ve missed. One suggestion from Twitter pal @TarikThirteen was this debut album from Belgian singer-songwriter Joachim Liebens, better known by his alias The Haunted Youth. Now Tarik’s music suggestions are usually exceptional, but even I was surprised at the treasure trove I found when I hit play on The Haunted Youth’s mesmerising debut.
Belgium is clearly the place right now for evocative dream-pop, with one of my regular favourites Oscar & The Wolf also hailing from the region and producing a similar vibe. However, there are also some additional elements to The Haunted Youth’s music that make it unique, with welcome hints of shoegaze, emo and 80s style synthwave thrown in for good measure.
The biggest compliment I can give this album is that the songs are just spectacular and there is literally not a second spared across the album’s 43-minute runtime – everything you would want from an artist’s debut outing. Track 4 Gone is also one of the songs of the year for me, a glorious 7-minute epic that brings together a beautifully hazy blend of shimmering synths and glistening guitars that’ll quickly whisk you away to audio heaven.
I am honestly so happy that this album reached me through word of mouth, as despite it only coming out at the start of November I’ve already played it several times over and, as you can see, its instantly become one of my favourites of the year.
Best tracks: Gone, Shadows, Coming Home
Listen here
25. Fear of the Dawn / Entering Heaven Alive by Jack White
Music’s chief mad scientist Jack White truly spoiled us all in 2022, gifting not one but two brilliant new solo albums. A definitive split between them, Entering Heaven Alive contained his more acoustic bluesy cuts whilst Fear of the Dawn boasted his more experimental rock tracks. Impressively, both served up some of his most inspiring work to date.
Fear of the Dawn arrived first, the sound of a frenzied genius keeping himself entertained during lockdown by making whatever sound he damn well pleased. Here, Jack is still playing around and pushing the limits of his blues rock sound, but this time around it is more of a controlled chaos. Where previous effort Boarding House Reach would have you smiling in bemusement at the crazy sounds you were hearing, Fear of the Dawn will have moshing out with your jaw on the floor, as Jack throws humungous riffs and all kinds of playful studio tricks at your ears.
Lead single Taking Me Back is the perfect opener, with some scintillating distorted guitar, buzzy synthesizers, and all of Jack White’s signature swagger. From that point onwards, the album only gets stranger in the best way possible with the rhythmic funk-rock groove of Into The Twilight, the chainsaw-like riffs of What’s The Trick and the brilliantly batshit Q-Tip collaboration, Hi-De-Ho, all standing out. 
Now where Fear of the Dawn is the boundary pushing rock record built mostly on thunderous electric guitars, Entering Heaven Alive is a more acoustic, timeless-sounding affair. As a result, it can’t quite match the full-throttle excitement of Fear of the Dawn, but there are still plenty of gems to be found in this collection as well. Lead single Love Is Selfish remains classic Jack White, again tapping into the most timeless and heartfelt nature of his song writing. I’ve Got You Surrounded (With My Love) is another big highlight, based around some jazzy piano and a stinging central guitar riff, harking back to his White Stripes days. Then If I Die Tomorrow rocks up with a wonderfully cinematic slice of modern Americana to deliver the undisputed highlight of both albums for me.
I am yet to decide whether this pair are my favourite Jack White solo efforts to date, but I do know that both are endlessly fun and invigorating projects. Strap in and you will be glued to your headphones, admiring all the mind-melting guitar work and astonishing sonic wonderment on display.
Fear Of The Dawn - Best tracks: What’s The Trick, Taking Me Back, Fear of the Dawn
Entering Heaven Alive - Best tracks: If I Die Tomorrow, Love Is Selfish, All Along The Way
Listen to Fear of the Dawn here
Listen to Entering Heaven Alive here
24. We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong by Sharon Van Etten
You had to know that if anyone was going to harness the darkness that surrounds a lockdown record and turn it into something quite hauntingly beautiful, it was going to be singer-songwriter Sharon Van Etten. Fuelled by not just the pandemic but also her own experiences escaping the ferocious Californian wildfires, Van Etten’s sixth album is one forged out of anxiety, uncertainty and despondency.
Opener Darkness Fades is the perfect tone-setter, with Van Etten’s ethereal vocals transcendently gliding across the song’s minimal acoustic backing. Elsewhere, I’ll Try is a shimmering multi-layered pop track, whilst the rumbling bluesy instrumentation of Anything sees Van Etten ironically pouring her heart into the song’s refrain which describes numbed feelings. Headspace however is my clear favourite, a glorious synth-soaked track built around a heartbreakingly affecting chorus of “Baby, don’t turn your back to me.” 
This is undoubtedly another remarkable work from Van Etten, an album that astounds and moves both powerfully and frequently. Although we’ve had a lot of lockdown albums by this point, this one could be a late contender for one of the very best.
Best tracks: Headspace, Darkness Fades, Anything
Listen here
23. It’s Almost Dry by Pusha T
From his early days in Clipse with No Malice through to his solo career and iconic guest spots, King Push has rarely put a foot wrong with his output. His 2022 effort, It’s Almost Dry, was no different.
With both Ye and Pharrell Williams on production duties this time around, along with Push himself on top form hitting out some of the best bars of his career, this album really is exceptional. Channelling that same swagger unlocked on Daytona, Pusha’s provocative bars about the brutal drug trade have never sounded so cutting yet so fresh and vibrant, as they are placed up against a collection of quite brilliant soul samples. With the added star power from Pharrell’s production and guest features from the likes of Jay-Z, Kid Cudi, Lil Uzi Vert and Don Toliver, It’s Almost Dry improves in every way on his already superb previous outing.
In terms of highlights there are plenty, with Brambleton, Let The Smokers Shine The Coupes and Dreamin of The Past possibly the best opening trio you’ll hear on any hip hop record this year. Singles Diet Coke and Hear Me Clearly still stand firm, and there’s even a reunion for Clipse on the brilliant closer, I Pray For You.
Overall if you’re a fan of Pusha, Daytona or just hip-hop in general, I guarantee you’re going to enjoy this one. In a year absolutely stacked with excellent rap records, this is one of the best.
Best tracks: Diet Coke, Dreamin Of The Past, Brambleton
Listen here
22. While Your Heart��s Still Beating by Kyla La Grange
To come back with a new album eight long years after her last full-length release, having basically been retired from music is one thing - but to come back better than ever before is another. Not every artist could do it, but that is exactly what synthpop sensation Kyla La Grange did in 2022.
Finally emerging from amidst her impressive horticultural projects (fun fact - La Grange was also nominated for the Gardener's World People's Choice Award this year), her brilliant third album While Your Heart’s Still Beating sees Kyla pick up exactly where she left off. Building on the success of 2014’s Cut Your Teeth, there’s more ambitious sonic exploration, more mature songwriting and a wider perspective that ensures the record hits you deep in all those feels. 
The album fittingly begins with her excellent single Neverland - a wonderful, dreamy slice of synth-pop that sees Kyla sing of her desire to not grow up too quickly. It’s a great opener that makes way for the aptly-titled Something Special, a track that wouldn’t sound out of place on the Drive soundtrack with it’s minimal, pulsating synth backing. Nurture was then one of my standout tracks of the first few months of 2022 and it has remained a favourite all year. A deeply intimate, autobiographical track where Kyla presents “a storybook of relationships, from childhood to adulthood”, it really underscores her talent for emotive songwriting.
Elsewhere on the record, you’ll likely be swept away by the atmospheric, slow-trance pulse of Were We Ever, as well as Kyla’s completely unique cover of 90s dance classic, Set You Free by N-Trance. On her version, Kyla takes the rave standard and morphs it into an ambient guitar-driven track. Led by her gorgeous otherworldly vocals, the song steadily builds before erupting into a swell of instrumentation during the final minute. Dare I say it? Yes I do – it’s even better than the original.
So, if you’re a fan of artists like Kate Bush, Bats For Lashes or even Florence & The Machine and haven’t got round to listening to this one yet, spare yourself 30 minutes over the festive period and definitely give this album a spin. She may have been gone a little while but Kyla more than makes up for lost time, delivering a stunning and mightily intoxicating listen from beginning to end. Cut Your Teeth was a special record, but While Your Heart’s Still Beating is the spectacular and faultless career-rebirth that somehow manages to top it.
Best tracks: Nurture, Neverland, Were We Ever
Listen here
21. EBM by Editors
In 2022, I learned there is nothing better than seeing one of your favourite bands attempt an ambitious sonic direction change and not only stick the landing but also deliver one of the best albums of their entire discography in the process. EBM set me alight back in September and has continued to bring me immense joy ever since – here’s what I said in my original review:
“Despite making a career out of these sonic-shifts, EBM feels like a big and bold step into the unknown unlike any they’ve taken previously. The main catalyst for this has been the addition of Benjamin John Power into the fold, better known by his alias of Blanck Mass. The Ivor Novello-winning composer first worked with Editors on 2019’s Blanck Mass Sessions, which was essentially a reimagined and reworked version of their sixth album Violence. Once the pandemic struck, Benjamin and the band continued swapping ideas, eventually forging the colossal blend of synth-pop, alt-rock and spiraling electronica that makes up their new album.
Also co-produced by Blanck Mass, who has since been announced as a full-time member of the band going forward, the result is an astonishing first chapter for this new iteration of Editors. On EBM, the band sound more vibrant, energized and wildly ambitious than ever before, adding colourful new layers to their traditionally sombre, brooding sound. The creative partnership between them really feels like a match made in heaven, with Benjamin able to pull the band into fascinating new dimensions sonically as they lyrically tackle broken Britain, strained relationships and indeed the global pandemic.
EBM marks the start of a thrilling new era for Editors, with Blanck Mass helping them to forge a dazzling electronic epic that also lays down some exciting building blocks for future releases. Now twenty years into their career, it’s refreshing to see the band continue to be daring, trying these new ideas and still not putting a foot wrong.”
Best tracks: Strawberry Lemonade, Heart Attack, Picturesque
Read my full review for HeadStuff here
Listen here
This weekend - Top EPs, Gigs and AOTY Honourable Mentions, all before the daily countdown of My Top 20 Albums of the Year begins on Sunday!
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chsims · 2 months
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Georgia Harrington 🤍
Georgia is a charming woman, currently 25 years old and raised on the coast of Brindleton Bay with her parents and younger sister. She has always been drawn to life on the coast. From a young age, she developed a deep love for the outdoors and nature.
She graduated in journalism but didn't want to pursue the career and currently she works a few days a week at her parents' fishing company and helps them with new developments in houses and apartments spread across several cities. Georgia's parents have always worked hard to give the best to their daughters and nowadays they are great businessmen and owners of a large fishing and distribution company.
Georgia also loves hiking, yoga, and spending time with her family and friend Kyla Hawthorne.
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Gentleman caller
Sanji x reader. NSFW!!
This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?
TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!
*****
"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"
"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"
Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.
Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.
And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...
You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.
Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.
Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...
"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.
"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.
"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."
When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.
You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.
"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"
"I have."
"... and?!"
Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."
Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.
*****
Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.
You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.
"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."
You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.
"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"
"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."
You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.
Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?
For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.
*****
"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"
For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.
"I'll tell you in a minute."
"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.
"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."
There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.
You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.
"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."
You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.
"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.
"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."
"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"
A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.
"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.
"Please."
You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...
"So? What... what does it say?"
"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."
"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."
"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."
"... what?"
"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."
Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.
"You mean...?"
"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"
You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."
"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."
"Yeah..."
Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."
"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."
Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"
"Actually..."
"Actually?"
"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"
Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.
"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"
You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.
Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."
"I am not!"
Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.
"But you were?"
You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."
"(name), that's amazing!"
"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."
Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.
"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."
"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."
Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."
"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"
"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"
You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...
A soft but firm knocking on the door.
Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"
"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"
The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.
I hope.
"(name)? Is everything all right?"
"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.
"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.
"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"
"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.
Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...
You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!
Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."
You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."
He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."
"Dad..."
"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."
You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.
"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."
"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."
"Of course! Every time you can."
"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.
"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.
"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."
You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.
"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."
You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"
"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."
You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"
"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"
Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"
You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."
"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."
You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"
"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."
He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."
"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."
"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."
"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."
He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"
You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.
Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.
"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.
"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."
"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."
Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."
"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."
"Well, if you are so sure..."
A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.
"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."
"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."
You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.
"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."
"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."
You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."
Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.
Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."
"Ah, that won't do."
"It really won't. So..."
He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.
Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.
"Gods, you taste so good..."
"It's the cake, Sanji."
"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."
You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.
"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.
You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.
"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"
"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"
"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."
And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.
Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?
Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.
"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.
And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...
"I love you too, Sanji."
... and that is more than a little frustrating.
You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.
Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...
Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.
"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."
Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:
"Tear it off."
"... what?"
"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."
"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.
Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."
"As you wish..."
A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.
He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.
"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.
"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"
"You could have told me before."
"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."
You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.
"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"
Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."
"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."
"(name), I..."
"Sanji, please."
That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.
Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.
"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"
He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.
Sanji jumps. "Shit..."
"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"
"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."
He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.
"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."
Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."
A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.
"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."
He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.
"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."
*****
You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.
This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.
"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."
"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"
"You mean...?"
"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"
Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.
"Then we will tell him."
"Are you sure?"
"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."
You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."
"... are you sure?"
"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."
It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."
"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"
Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.
Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.
As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."
"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."
You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.
In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.
"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."
Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."
"Oh, you are so vulgar..."
Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.
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vialovesyou · 2 months
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𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝗥𝗔𝗙𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗡
" what's up, y/n/n" grinned barry, kissing his teeth as the girl came into the beatdown trailer. a white sundress clung to her hips as the brunette pushed her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder looking up at barry through her long lashes.
" darlin’, this is country club " barry introduced, barely lifting a finger as he gestured to a blonde man sitting across from him.  the blonde's head snapped up, his biceps tensing through his polo shirt as y/n scoffed lightly.
" rafe cameron, never thought i'd see the day " she spoke, a laugh falling from her plump lips. y/n had met rafe once or twice since her best friend kyla was dating some guy who y/n didn't bother to learn the name of that happened to be friends with rafe.
" y/n" rafe greeted, nodding his head towards the girl who opened the bag which rested on her shoulders and dropped a wad off cash infront of barry, the bracelets which hung from her wrist jingling as she did so .
truth be told, rafe had never seen y/n sober. he wasn't all too surprised, the girl was known for her party girl ways. it was the typical good girl gone bad scenario, one he had seen play out one too many times.
" i need 20g's for the party kyla's throwing tonight " y/n told him, closing the clasp on her purse as she looked down at barry boredly. " still doin' luke's dirty work, are ya' sweetheart?" barry asked, scratching his stubble causing y/n to roll her eyes at the mention of her ex boyfriend.
" i'd rather shove a nail file up my nose " she hummed, her sweet tone unchanged despite her bitter words. " two grand good enough ? " she asked gesturing to the stack of cash which now lay among the empty plastic baggies and beer bottles.
" anything for my favourite customer " barry smirked, pushing off the ratty sofa to retrieve the stuff leaving y/n and rafe.
" you do coke? " he asked, his voice raspy while he glanced up at y/n. the girl pouted her lips, sitting down across from rafe causing the dress to inch up her thigh even higher as she crossed her legs over.
" it's not for me " she answered simply, brown eyes boring into rafe's.
" so who's it for? " he shot back, causing the girl to pull a face at his tone. she had never spoke to him more than twice, so why did he care so much. " what's it to you? " she replied, leaning forward causing the dress to slip revealing more of her cleavage.
rafe glanced down at her chest, before looking away his jaw ticking in annoyance just as barry came back with a bundle of small plastic baggies. " this good, y/n/n? " he asked, handing it to the girl who held it up, cocking her head to the side before she placed them into her bag.
" pleasure doing business with you " she smiled, spinning on her heel revealing the white ribbon tying the top half of her hair together and walking over to the door. " oh and rafe " she spoke softly, causing him to look over at her. " you should come by tonight"
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gatheringbones · 1 year
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best books of 2022 rec list:
fiction:
chouette by claire oshetsky
forty thousand in gehenna by cj cherryh
fierce femmes and notorious liars by kai cheng thom
sula by toni morrison
everyone in this room will someday be dead by emily r. austin
jane eyre by charlotte bronte
villette by charlotte bronte
non-fiction:
gay spirit by mark thompson
we too: stories on sex work and survival by natalie west
transgender history by susan stryker
blood marriage wine & glitter by s bear bergman
love and rage: the path to liberation through anger by lama rod owens
gay soul by mark thompson
between certain death and a possible future: queer writing on growing up in the AIDS crisis by mattilda bernstein sycamore
the man they wanted me to be: toxic masculinity and a crisis of our own making by jared yates sexton
nobody passes: rejecting the rules of gender and conformity by mattilda bernstein sycamore
cruising: an intimate history of a radical pastime by alex espinoza
gay body by mark thompson
what my bones know: a memoir of healing from complex trauma by stephanie foo
the child catchers: rescue, trafficking, and the new gospel of adoption by kathryn joyce
the opium wars: the addiction of one empire and the corruption of another by w. travis hanes III
a queer history of the united states by michael bronski
the trouble with white women by kyla schuller
what we don't talk about when we talk about fat by aubrey gordon
the feminist porn book by tristan taormino
administrations of lunacy: a story of racism and psychiatry at the midgeville asylum by mab segrest
the women's house of detention by hugh ryan
angela davis: an autobiography by angela davis
ten steps to nanette by hannah gadsby
neuroqueer heresies by nick walker
the remedy: queer and trans voices on health and healthcare by zena sharman
brilliant imperfection by eli clare
the dawn of everything: a new history of humanity by david graeber and david wengrow
tomorrow sex will be good again by katherine angel
all our trials: prisons, policing, and the feminist fight to end violence by emily l. thuma
if this is a man by primo levi
bi any other name: bisexual people speak out by lorraine hutchins
white rage: the unspoken truth of our racial divide by carol anderson
public sex: the culture of radical sex by pat califa
I'm glad my mom died by jenette mccurdy
care of: letters, connections and cures by ivan coyote
the gentrification of the mind: witness to a lost imagination by sarah schulman
skid road: on the frontier of health and homelessness in an american city, by josephine ensign
the origins of totalitarianism by hannah arendt
nice racism: how progressive white people perpetuate racial harm by robin diangelo
corrections in ink by keri blakinger
sexed up: how society sexualizes us and how we can fight back by julia serano
smash the church, smash the state! the early years of gay liberation by tommi avicolli mecca
no more police: a case for abolition by mariame kaba
until we reckon: violence, mass incarceration, and a road to repair by danielle sered
the care we dream of: liberatory & transformative justice approaches to LGBTQ+ health by zena sharman
reclaiming two-spirits: sexuality, spiritual renewal and sovereignty in native america by gregory d. smithers
the sentences that create us: crafting a writer's life in prison by Caits Messner
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graciegoeskrazy · 3 months
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a change of heart
george daniel + charli xcx + daughter/stepdaughter!reader
warnings: men lol, breaking up, cheating, language, short n sweet!, das it i think???
a/n: alrightttttt. another part (but not quite part 2) to the ‘do u think i have forgotten’ universe. k love u byeeeeee.
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y/n | are u both home?
mumsie | i am. george is on his way.
y/n | are u guys going out tnt?
mumsie | we were thinking about it? not sure yet.
y/n | can you not?
mumsie | sure ofc. are you okay?
george | do you not want me to come over?
y/n | no it’s not that. i need you both there plz.
george | ok im almost there. u alright?
mumsie | baby what’s going on?
y/n | lucas cheated on me.
george | what?
mumsie | you’re kidding.
y/n | no. we broke up.
mumsie | where are you?
y/n | on the bus. almost home.
george | I’m pulling up.
As soon as the door opened, Your mom and George were on their feet, walking toward the door. Their eyes found you while you were locking the door. Your eyes were red and your cheeks were littered with tear stains. You faced them and continued to silently sob.
“Oh, honey,” Charli said. She and George both reached out their arms for you. They pulled you into the tightest hug as more tears fell and you sobbed. They both exchanged worried glances, realizing they were in for much much more than they had originally thought. “C'mon. Let’s go sit down.” She said.
They brought you to the couch. You sat down in between the pair and immediately continued crying into George’s chest. Charli pulled your legs onto her lap so now you were laid out on both of them.
Once your cries started to turn quiet, Charli spoke. “What happened?”
You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and pulled up a photo, showing it to the two of them. “My friends sent me this.��
The couple leaned in. George especially was in disbelief. “Oh my god.” He said.
“Is that Kyla?!” Your mom asked, slightly yelling.
“Yeah.” You said.
George looked down at you. “Who’s Kyla?” He asked, moving a piece of hair behind your ear, coaxing you to come out.
“My friend. Or at least used to be.” You said.
“Bloody hell.”
Charli looked away from the phone. “Did you talk to him?”
“Yeah. Both of them.”
“What happened?”
You sighed, “He said nothing, she said ‘I’m so sorry’ and I said ‘Go fuck yourself.’”
George kissed your forehead and pulled you closer. “That’s my girl.”
You continued. “Everyone saw. It was equally awesome and embarrassing.”
Your mom leaned in to wipe your fallen tears. “It’s okay. They just saw how much of a badass you are.”
You sighed “I hate men.”
The two chuckled. “I hate them and their stupid pretty faces.”
“You think I’m pretty?” George said, smiling.
“Fuck off.” You smacked him lightly.
“No, you’re right. We’re idiots.” George said.
Charli gestured for you to sit up. “Lucas isn’t a man. He’s a skinny white boy who hasn’t even fully gone through puberty yet, while you are a smart, stunning, amazing young lady, and he’s an idiot who just lost the best thing he’s ever had. You don’t need him.”
Look looked down somberly.
Your mom continued. “Wipe those tears. We’re gonna have a fun night. Do you wanna go shopping? We can get you an outfit for tomorrow. Your take on the Lady Di revenge dress!”
You shrugged. “I guess.”
“Yeah? We can force George to come and laugh at how uncomfortable and annoyed he looks. He’ll be our bag holder.”
Usually, a joke like that made you laugh, but they definitely noticed when you didn't even smile. “What, my love?”
You continued to cry again. “I really liked him, guys.”
George pulled you back into a hug and Charli fought the urge to cry herself. “Sweet girl…” George said.
Your mom patted your leg and sat up, heading towards the door. “C’mon. We’re going to the mall.”
The ride was quiet. George handed you the aux cord telling you to play whatever you wanted, but you said you didn't care. That was a definite sign to them that you were heartbroken. He shrugged and just put on Taylor Swift and you scolded him when he was about to play a non-Taylor’s Version.
While at the mall, your mom and you grabbed a few things to try on while George, as promised, held and wore the bags. While they were waiting for you to come out of the dressing room for a so-called fashion show, Charli noticed George’s expression.
“You alright?” She questioned
“Mhm.” He sighed.
“You sure? You have your thinking face on.”
“I thought you said it was sexy?” He asked jokingly.
“Very much so.” She said, in a joking seductive tone.
She patted his thigh and looked at him. “What’s going on?” She asked worriedly.
“Nothing, just…teenagers are fucking brutal.”
By the end of the trip, you were exhausted. You ran outside and headed to the car, ready to pass out and go home. Meanwhile, your parents took their time getting to the car, George, carrying all the shopping bags and both their purses.
“Thank you,” Charli said.
“No need, I look fabulous with a Coach bag.”
She laughed, then continued. “No, for being here. For being here for her.”
George just shrugged. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
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