#I'm having fun dammit

[peaches2217]

◉ - For your Mareach parents scenario, how soon after the baby’s born does Toadsworth get there? Is he in the room? I need to know cause “Papa” in the most recent headcanon made me CRY

I am SO happy people enjoy reading my unhinged headcanons as much as I enjoy writing them, I'm having so much fun 😭

Long post incoming, because y'all know by now I'm feral about this topic.

In the interest of keeping her comfortable (or at least less stressed, there’s not really any getting comfortable when you’re in labor), the nurses just set up shop in Peach and Mario’s room. Initially, Toadsworth stations himself outside of their door in an effort to shoo away meddlesome inquirers, because Toads are far too nosy for creatures without noses and their queen is having a baby so of course there's crowds forming. And he won't stand for that! There's a drawing room separating the bedroom from the hall, so you can't really hear anything going on inside, but just the thought of all those prying ears upsets him. Doesn't his little girl deserve some privacy?

And that goes on for a few hours, up to the point where he's wielding his cane like a baseball bat, until he swears he hears her scream. It's brief and muffled and he can't be entirely sure he didn't just imagine it, because no one else seems to have heard it, but that does him in. He promptly joins the dozens of other Toads pressing their faces against the door in a bid to make sense of what's happening.

("I feared she might be in a great deal of pain," he tries to justify to Daisy, who's immensely annoyed when she opens the drawing room door from the inside and Toadsworth is among the first to tumble to the floor. "She was," she tells him bluntly. Spoiler: that doesn't make him feel any better.)

You know how Toadsworth was the first person Peach told about her pregnancy? He's also the first one that wasn't in the room at the time who gets to meet the new baby. (Yes, even before Luigi! Only by a few minutes though, mind you.) He's almost immediately overwhelmed with conflicting emotions when he steps inside, because she looks so exhausted, and his heart hurts for her. But she still smiles the moment she sees him, and Mario is right at her side beaming brightly, and there's this little bundle of white blankets in her arms—

"This is your grandpa," she coos softly to her new daughter, carefully handing her off to Toadsworth.

He looks at this tiny little thing with dark hair and a button nose and he can't help but remember the day Peach was born. Though he was never intended to become her surrogate father, he knew from the moment he first saw her that he would die for her. And he realizes immediately that he'd do the exact same for this tiny human in his arms, because this is his little girl's little girl, and he loves them both more than any material possession in the world.

"Papa," Peach whispers not even ten minutes later. Mario's introducing his daughter to her uncles a few feet away, and she’s been watching them while Toadsworth has been fluffing her pillows and ensuring she has an adequate amount of blankets. Her eyes are puffy and heavy, and her voice is weak, but she looks blissfully content.

Toadsworth pats her hand. "You get some rest, my dear," he tells her. "I'll be right here should you need me." She nods and closes her eyes, gently squeezing his hand back, and Toadsworth pulls the blankets up to her chin as she dozes off. That was always how she preferred to be tucked in when she was a child.

[boytoyhalo]

Can we have more of the selkie au please?

are there fantasy books in the lighthouse? Did they see seal!Pac after the coat incident? Is Fit hunting an imaginary poachers on the island?

you absolutely can!!

They don't see Pac - human or seal - for a few days after the incident. During those few days, Fit very much notices the absence of his usual evening journaling buddy, and he's very much not happy about it. He scours the island in his free time looking for traces of whatever poacher is squatting there, but he can't find anything. He also notices Pac's absence, and by the 3rd day he's starting to come to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only logical explanation he can think of for his strange behavior, and the lack or evidence for any other people on the island, is that Pac must be the poacher he's looking for. He doesn't want to believe it, because Pac is so nice and he's always seemed to really like the seals (maybe even more so than him or Ramon) when they've been around them together, but he just doesn't know what else it could possibly be. Then right as he's resigned himself to confronting him about it, and begun to prepare for the ordeal of filing a report against his friend, he finds his furry friend waiting for him on it's usual rocks like nothing happened.

Fit spends a good few minutes just gaping at it, completely frozen - the fucking thing has the gall to look confused, tilting it's head at him like his son wasn't sobbing over it's severed skin just a few days ago. Even after the initial shock passes and he manages to drag himself out of his stupor and onto his own rock, he can't find any words to speak or to write; he just keeps staring at it in complete puzzlement. It stares back at him, it's gaze flicking curiously to the blank page in front of him every so often almost. After what feels like an eternity it huffs and flops over on it's side, seemingly having decided that it would rather nap than continue their stare-off. Fit begins his journal entry in uneasy silence, trying his best to let the scratching of the pencil on the page distract him from the anomaly next to him. Unfortunately, said anomaly doesn't tolerate the cold shoulder for long before snorting offendedly at him.

"What?" Fit raises an eyebrow at it. There's a beat before it snorts again, slapping it's front flippers loudly against the wet rocks. "You- oh, what, you want me to talk to you? Is that it?" It grunts softly. Fit blinks, his mouth opening and closing around words that don't come. "I mean I- I don't really uh. I mean, I'm just kinda speechless right now." And ok, that's an understatement - he feels completely disoriented, his entire world having been flipped on its head. This seal was dead, it had to have been, that was the only possible explanation for the way everything had lined up. Except apparently it wasn't, because the seal was alive and it was looking straight into his eyes with that disturbingly human intelligence shining through its own. As the gears in his head start turning, trying valiantly to come up with something to say, some pieces start to fall into place.

The pelt, Pac's freak-out and subsequent disappearance, the seal acting like someone's lost pet and not a wild predator, Pac having no traceable presence on the island but appearing every day, both of them missing a limb - little dots swimming around in his head, moving too quickly for him to connect, forming a fragment of something that Fit doesn't think he could handle knowing in full. He nearly slips and breaks his neck in his mad scramble off of his perch, startling the seal - or whatever this thing was. He ignores it's concerned cry and backs away slowly, a dizzying dread creeping slowly over him as his attempts to think of any logical explanation for the ever-growing pile of mysteries come up completely empty.

Various half-formed theories run through his mind as he speeds through the short walk back to the cabin: Was the seal Pac's pet? Was it some robotic creation of his? Did he kill it and do some fucked up death magic on it? Was he the seal? Was he a shape shifter, or- or some kind of hypnotist? Had the whole thing just been an illusion? A dream? Was Fit finally going insane?

Yeah, that's gotta be it he thought as he made his way through the door, being sure to close it quietly so as to not wake Ramon. I've finally fucking lost it. There was no way Pac was - whatever it was that Fit's psyche was convinced he was. That seal was a normal, if weirdly friendly seal, and there was a completely rational explanation for everything that Fit was just too dumb to catch onto. Pac was probably just freaked out by the implication of the seal's death, and maybe the pelt had just been an incredibly convincing fake. Yeah, that was it, definitely. Fit pointedly ignored the voices in his head that screamed all of the ways that that didn't make any sense as he stumbled his way through his nightly routine and into bed - it made enough sense that he was fine letting it be not his problem anymore. He was much more interested in getting a good night's sleep than in spiraling into a frenzy over something that probably didn't matter in the slightest

.....Or not. Apparently, whatever part of his brain he didn't have control over greatly overpowered the part that was sane and rational, combined with all of the exhaustion in his body. He sighed as he begrudgingly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the shadows that flickered across his wooden ceiling. He could already tell this was gonna give him hell. He had never been someone who could take it easy, not even before the sounds of gunfire and explosions and the heavy stench of blood-soaked dirt had made themselves a permanent part of his world. This certainly wasn't the first time since that he had questioned his perception of reality; in fact, he was quite familiar with being disconnected from it, the way that it could bend around the most damaged parts of him and twist his mind back into a shape that no longer fit in the present. He sometimes heard gunshots when there was no one to fire them, screaming in his ear while he slept at night - It wasn't far-fetched at all to write this off as the conspiratorial delusions of a soldier taken off the battlefield too late. But, something about it just kept nagging at him, urging him to look deeper even if he couldn't handle it. Finally, after what had to be hours of tossing and turning in his sheets, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The spiral only pulled at him harder the next morning, as he made his early morning rounds and reports, harder still as he made his way back to the house and made breakfast. By the time he woke up Ramon he was wishing he still had hair on his head just so he could pull it out. His boy, of course, noticed his mood immediately.

"...What? What is it?" Fit asked as the kid stared at him flatly over his scrambled eggs and toast.

"Something is bothering you." Ramon pointed his fork at him. "Tell me." Fit sighed; that was his son, blunt as ever. He briefly contemplated spinning a lie to ease his mind, but wrote it off as soon as he remembered that his baby boy was a genius that, unfortunately, knew him far too well.

"It's nothing, Ramon, don't worry about it. Eat your eggs." Ramon dropped his fork loudly onto the table, not breaking eye contact. He looked unimpressed.

"Fit." There was silence as they stared at each other from across the table, both plates forgotten as they engaged in some sort of psychological battle that Fit felt he had a distinct disadvantage in somehow. After a long few minutes he turned his gaze away with a resigned grunt, knowing from an abundance of experience that there was no use in resisting Ramon's questioning - The kid was determined, and he had a way of getting things out of Fit that he sometimes didn't even want to admit to himself. He swallows a mouthful of his suddenly very bland tasting eggs, trying to think of how to start.

"You wouldn't happen to have any books that talk about seals, would you?" Is what he eventually settles on. Ramon blink at him in confusion, seemingly thrown off by the turn of the conversation. "It's- well, it might be nothing. It's probably nothing, But." He takes a deep breath, admitting to weakness is a difficult task that Fit has always had to push himself greatly to accomplish; he's been trying to work through it for his young boy's sake. "There's just been some stuff happening around here that I can't figure out and that's kinda the only place I can think to start looking, you know what I mean? It's nothing you need to worry about though, I promise." Ramon fiddles with the frayed bauble of his favorite red hat as he hums, thinking.

"I think a couple of the animal encyclopedias that you got me mention them, but nothing too detailed. What's been happening with the seals?" Fit takes another nauseating bite to buy himself time to consider his answer.

"I've just... been thinking about the fur we found," he says carefully, praying that It won't be a sensitive topic. Thankfully, Ramon doesn't seem fazed, only raising his eyebrows a bit as he waits for his father to continue. "I was sure it was from one of those ones that like to hang around here, and we were only seeing five of them for the past few days so I thought - someone must have hunted it, you know? But there's been no one here but us and Richas' parents, and then last night the seal that was missing showed back up and." He cuts off his ramble as he notices the strange look Ramon is giving him. "What? Do you think I'm going crazy or something?"

"Pac said he gave the seal it's skin back, remember?" He says plainly, like it makes complete sense. Fit balks at him, mouth open in disbelief. Ramon had.... Ramon believed that? But he was so smart for a kid his age, he had even called Fit out for pretending it wasn't dead! Had he just.... decided to believe Pac? Was this his way of coping?

"You, uh. What?" He responds eloquently. Ramon looks at him like he's grown a second head, and ok, now Fit is definitely going crazy. Since when does his little boy genius believe that one can simply give a dead animal it's skin back and bring it back to life?

"He gave it back." He draws out every word, as if he's the adult explaining a simple concept to a child. "The seal is fine. Richarlyson said it took Pac on adventures with it to thank him." He sniffs petulantly. "Kinda think he should have invited me, but whatever. It's all ok, see! Just like you said." Fit has no idea what to say, completely lost. This conversation had done nothing but add another layer of headache to the already impressive thorn in his side. He nods slowly, deciding to just let it go for the sake of the little sanity he has left.

"Right, ok. That makes sense, I guess." As far as he's concerned, if Ramon is happy there's no issue. That's what he tells himself at least, and to his credit it is mostly true. Ramon knows better though, and he levels Fit with a look that tells him as much. After a moment he returns his attention to his plate, looking bored with the topic of conversation.

"Richas said Pac is gonna be back to see you today. I'm gonna ask him all about it, you can listen if you want to." Fit startles a bit. Pac was coming back? "And if that doesn't answer your questions, maybe you should try checking all those old journals we found to see if they say anything useful?" Right, the archived journals from previous lighthouse attendants - Fit had completely forgotten about them, locked away as mementos in a storage room at the bottom of the lighthouse itself. He hadn't spared them a thought since he and Ramon had been shown them on their first day on the island. That was as good a place to look as any, he supposed. He makes a mental note to do so later tonight, when he's done with his work for the day.

"Yeah that's a good idea actually, thank you Ramon. You're damn smart, you know that?" Ramon nods easily, and Fit cracks a smile for the first time since his worldview had been upturned the night before. "Anyway, you say Pac is coming back today?" He tries not to sound too eager, though he doesn't think he does very well - he's missed his friend, what could he say? The manual labor was much more grueling without company, he had realized. It had been hard doing it alone again after having gotten used to Pac (and on semi-frequent occasion, Mike's) company over the past few months. Even when he had suspected the other man of being the dreaded poacher, a concept he had now completely written off as too out of character to be reliable, he had been more sad about the possibility of having to turn him in than about the actual poaching - although he definitely had been sad about that too. Ramon looks like he's stifling a laugh.

"That's what Richarlyson said. He said his other parents were making him do it today." Fit doesn't have time to question why Pac apparently needed someone to make him come back after his "adventure" before Ramon is getting up from the table with an exclamation of "done!" and running out to the beach, leaving his dirty dishes to Fit and ignoring as he calls after him, of course.

He finishes cleaning up and gets outside to join him just in time to see Richarlyson running eagerly up to the other boy, Pac following behind him at a much more casual pace. He can't help frombreaking into another smile as he draws closer, black waves dripping wet (as always) and a familiar grin lighting up his face.

"Oi!" He calls out across the remaining distance. Pac wastes no time in calling back to him, speeding up his walk a bit as Richarlyson reaches his target and tackles him into a hug. Fit decides to leave them to their own devices for the moment, setting his own pace towards his approaching friend and meeting him in the middle. "Where have you been?" Pac's smile turns sheepish, and Fit's eyes flick to the way his teeth nervously pull at his lip for a moment before he speaks.

"I was feeling really sick, I think I must have caught something from touching that pelt! I was throwing up and having a- a fever, you know how it is," He looks to Fit almost bashfully, like he's fully aware Fit isn't buying it. Fit, for all he's been agonizing over the possibility of Pac being.... something, suddenly finds that he doesn't really care. The seal is alive, Richarlyson is safe - whatever Pac was doing is his business. He's just happy to have some adult company again. Before he can say as much, not that he would have, Ramon comes running up from behind him, stopping short in front of Pac with elation tangible in his demeanor.

"PAC! Richas says you went on an adventure with the seal who's skin we found, what was it like? TELL ME!" Pac laughs, startled, and crouches down to meet the boy's eyes, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair through his hat.

"Yeah, it was amazing! I gave the seal his fur back and he was like 'oh wow thank you so much! come swim with me!' And he took me to his home in the kelp forest and introduced me to all his fish friends! We even saw some- ah, I forget how you say it in English - The big guys with the claws... LOBSTERS! yeah, we saw some lobsters! And they were fighting each other with SWORDS! Oh it was so cool Ramon, I wish you could have seen it. Hey, maybe I can ask him to take you next time!" Ramon's giggles stop abruptly as he gasps in excitement, eyes lighting up as he begins pleading with Pac to do so. Fit shakes his head fondly.

There's a soft look in Pac's eyes as he speaks animatedly to Ramon, recounting his epic underwater adventures with the dramatic flair of a man who's very used to entertaining children. And yeah, Fit decides as brown eyes stray momentarily to share an amused look with him, none of it matters. He'll look at those journals later to see if there's any mention of seal pelts or strange men appearing out of nowhere, but in the meantime he couldn't care less - he has his work buddy back, his son is happy, the weather is nice and no seals have been harmed.

Maybe he can take it easy, just this once. For now.

[bastiodon8]

the player character (and protag of my verse's omega ruby) of my (to-be) omega ruby monotype bug run! everyone this is buzz fellheart and they're going to dominate the world with a wurmple, some other bugs, and it's own pure spite trust.

[cringefaecompilation]

moral ocd orym real.

orym snapped harder than he ever had that night even before he pulled out the sword. he was ripping into liliana harsher than he'd ever ripped into anyone and he couldn't stop himself, nor did any of the hells try to snap him out of it. the sight of otahan's sword triggered him so violently he screamed at the team and had to leave to try and cool off. and he finally let himself cry when imogen came to him to comfort him.

but he has the maturity, even when he's gasping out every single word through tears, to tell her that she's not the same as them. she is not her mother, she would never trust in the vanguard nor does he think she does. her mixed feelings on her mother and her own biases are just as valid as his own. he acknowledges his discomfort does not inherently make him correct and he should not have foisted that onto her or made her feel that way.

(and i can't help but think this is orym's way to apologize for plotting behind imogen's back to murder her mother and have fearne keep her from stopping him)

and imogen gets it! she understands! she sells herself a little short here trying to say she'll never understand what orym went through despite what happened to laudna and the very real threat of losing her mother to predathos, but she is there for him. she doesn't discount his feelings either. she knows he wants to do what's best for everyone and she tells him she'll try seeing eye to eye with him because he's trying to see eye to eye with her.

i love to see it. most underrated duo forever.

[whump-in-the-closet]

I thoroughly enjoyed your medic story! Always a fan when the whole team gets a piece 😂 Do you think you might continue it someday?

Also, if you have the motivation, I beg of you to please write the western one! I feel like there's never quite enough outlaw whump

Have a great day today!

Hey thanks! I'd probably continue it if someone specifically requested it...I just have issues with pacing in a story if I'm being honest lmao

Anyway, western whump! I was very excited about this ask >:)

cw: branding, gun wound, pistol whipping, western whump, death mention, captivity, manhandling

It wasn't supposed to end this way.

With the malignant, rose-colored sun setting behind the shredded trees.

With the blood pooling out around him, staining the red clay.

With the butt of his gun glinting just out of his aching fingers' reach.

With the sheriff's men picking their way towards him.

He was supposed to get away.

They circled him, spurs cutting through the tall grass. They towered over the outlaw, smiling with satisfied confidence. The outlaw had seen vultures with that same expression in their beady eyes.

The sheriff crouched down, pushing his hat back to look at the outlaw. He smelled strongly of cigarettes and leather.

"Well, well," his toothpick shifted between his coffee-stained teeth, "Evenin' sunshine."

The outlaw grunted, keeping pressure on his injured arm. His fingers were slick with blood. His head buzzed, and he could suddenly see two of the sheriff.

It wasn't a pretty thing to see two of.

"You ain't talkin' so proud now," he said, hooking a calloused hand under the outlaw's arm and hauling him to his feet. He tied the outlaw's hands in front of him with quick movements, giving the outlaw no time to protest. "Should have put a bullet in your arm a long time back."

The rope was thick and the sheriff cinched it mercilessly.

The outlaw cursed through gritted teeth, his wrists turning an irritated red beneath the rawhide. "My-- my arm--"

The sheriff slapped him lightly. "None of that bitchin'." He gave the rope to one of his men and picked up the outlaw's gun.

The sheriff spun the outlaw's gun, letting him get a good look at the weapon.

A murderous glint flashed in the outlaw's eyes as the rope was tied to a horse's saddle. "That's mine," he spat.

I'll kill you.

The sheriff laughed. The toothpick jumped inside his mouth. "No, it ain't. Not anymore. The only thing that's yours is a date with the gallows." He stepped in close, too close, and pressed the still-warm muzzle of the gun to the outlaw's forehead. "You got that?"

The outlaw held his gaze, then dropped it. He said nothing, setting his mouth in a thin line.

The pressure increased. "Say, 'yes sir'."

The outlaw's mouth twitched.

"Say it."

Those two words brought the outlaw more pain than the bullets lodged in his shoulder. "Yes...sir."

Somehow, he made it sound like fuck you. He worked his jaw in a tight circle, swirling the tobacco and blood out from between his teeth. Wasting no time, he spat in the sheriff's face.

The sheriff didn't waste any time either. He swung the butt of the gun across the outlaw's forehead.

The outlaw crumpled-- hot pain spiking behind his eyes.

A thin line of blood traced away down his shirt collar.

His hat was knocked off his dusty hair and when they rode away, it was the only thing to mark that they were ever there at all.

A cowboy hat, discarded in a muddy pool of blood and trampled grass.

They dragged him for miles.

Stumbling, coughing, arm ripped at jarring angles. Until his legs turned to lead, and every breath made his ribs ache. His jeans were shredded where he'd fallen, knees bruised and raw.

When they arrived at the camp, they tied him to a low-lying tree. They left him alone as they built up a fire, but his cramped muscles hardly let him stretch and every movement felt like his last.

The young moon shone with a tired glimmer, highlighting the sandy patch of earth with a watery glow.

The fire snapped, sending up sparks into the grey night.

Somewhere, a coyote yipped, and another joined in, then another. The chorus became a long, drawn-out howl.

The outlaw watched as they ate.

His stomach growled. He had been on the run for weeks, and the smell of venison made the starved realization crash down harshly.

The sheriff stood up with a long stretch. He bent over the fire, adjusting a metal prong. He turned towards the outlaw with a slow smile.

The outlaw snarled. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

The sheriff approached him, nodding to two of his men.

A straw-haired man put out a cigarette on the heel of his boot and walked towards the outlaw. Another man, with a greasy mustache and striped shirt, followed.

The outlaw glared at both of them, straining against the ropes. "Fuck--" Too much pressure on his arm. Hurt. He inhaled deeply. "Fuck off."

The sheriff looked down. He spat at the outlaw.

Tobacco-stained spit dribbled down the outlaw's face, and he couldn't wipe it away. He squinted up at the sheriff.

"Do y'know how long I've waited for this?" drawled the sheriff. "A long time. A long, long time."

The straw-haired man grinned. He was missing his front teeth. "We always knew you were gonna git him, sir."

"Shut up, Barney," said the man with the greasy mustache. "Kissass."

The sheriff ignored both of them. "I reckon," he said to the outlaw. "You know how many men you killed when you stole those cattle?"

Three.

"I dunno."

"Three," the sheriff confirmed. "Three good, hard-workin' ranch hands, you cattle-lovin' bastard." The sheriff spoke in a low, harsh voice. "Now the ways I see it, you're about to get what you deserve."

A cold dread filled the outlaw. "The gallows?"

The sheriff smiled. "That. And this." He waved his two men forward and turned back to the fire. "Death is too kind for the likes of you."

The straw-haired man flicked open a knife, and the other pinned the outlaw against the tree. They cut off his shirt, leaving the fire to cast shadows on his bare skin.

The outlaw cursed them, cursed the sheriff, and cursed their mothers.

The greasy-mustached man grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head back until he shut up.

The sheriff's spurs clicked to a stop beside him.

Out of the corner of his eye, the outlaw could make out the red-iron of a cattle brand.

His breaths quickened, rising and falling at a sharp, frantic pace. "No--"

"Yes. A cattle brand for a cattle thief. Only fair."

A new terror blossomed, wrapping around the outlaw's ribcage and rising up his throat as the brand loomed over him.

He could feel the heat before it even touched. He shrank back, incomprehensible swearing cutting through the night. Like his words were the only thing protecting him from the burning touch.

The sheriff pressed the brand down on the outlaw's chest.

The pain was instantaneous and brilliant, a fiery throbbing that made him scream until his voice was raw. He ripped away, back arching in a futile attempt to escape. Raw tears burned their way down his face, blurring his vision until the world narrowed to two things: the smell of burning flesh and the sheriff's veiny hand.

He collapsed as soon as the sheriff's men let go of him, spine curved in the moonlight as he doubled over.

The agony was new and fresh and throbbing, throbbing, throbbing.

The coyotes paused their chorus, then started up again. This time, the outlaw's crying joined them.

[indecisive-v]

forgive me, i've really gone down the p5x rabbit hole now

[astrofons-highderich]

Do you think 100 year old Edward Elric ever saw these being sold and had an instant existential crisis?

Just absolutely loses his shit thinking about people purchasing a cutesy decoration of his worst mistake?

Casually walks by one at an acquaintances house and has to keep the world's most pained grin to avoid a deeply upsetting conversation about a small rug currently covered in dog hair?

[brekwrites]

Sun and Solar smoke weed?!?! IN VR CHAT

(CW for marijuana and recreational drug use!)

Finished the weed fic that was up in the 100 follower poll I posted. Rated M bc of recreational drug use. You'll never guess what happens next, guys!

[moongothic]

i would love trans crocodile but im very cynical that oda would write him in a respectful manner. thats not even thinking of how horrible that one portion of the one piece fandom would treat him

Yeah the fandom sucks and I'm going to strangle everyone (including the cishets who claim to be trans allies and then use "Crocomom")

But with Oda it's weird because like. The more I think about it, the more I'm like... 50/50 about Oda being able to actually deliver good, respectful trans masc rep.

Like I've posted about this before but One Piece does have this on-going theme of having characters "stuck in wrong bodies" or "having one's body changed" (sometimes reversably, sometimes irreversably; sometimes against their will, sometimes consentually). Which, in theory, in my mind, does kind of signal that on some level Oda understands the idea of being "the wrong sex" (whether or not that's a good way to explain The Trans Experience™ is a whole different subject but it's an old fashioned explanation that Oda would probably be/is familiar with) But at the same time, while the concept pops up again and again in One Piece, Oda doesn't really dwell too deep into the idea of what that's like. Like, emotionally. How it feels like to like, get turned into a toy or be a child who gets aged 20 years or to get turned into a cyborg or a giant child or have parts of your body permanently turned into animal parts (sometimes with a will of their own) etc

And like. Part of me understands why, Oda does tend to want to focus on writing a story he thinks teenaged boys would be interested in reading, and he has often stated he wants to have fun with his story too (like that's partially why Luffy's a Rubber Man, because Oda thought giving Luffy a ridiculous ability would make him more fun to write and draw long-term, which is valid as hell) This is why for example Oda has avoided doing any romances in OP, and while there are dark themes in the story, often he has done his best to avoid making them too blatant, as some things would be too mature for his youngest readers (like, for example until Kuma's backstory, it was never explicitly stated what would happen to the slave wives of the Tenryuubito, even saying it was "implied" would be pushing how that subject had been treated until now)

So like. Because of that, I understand why Oda hasn't dwelled into The Feelings™ part much/at all despite the "stuck in the wrong body" narrative appearing time and time again

Either Oda thinks it'd be too boring either for himself or his readers, or he hasn't dwelled into it because he doesn't really understand gender dysphoria and can't relate to the experience (despite how often it shows its face in OP). Or it could be both, even

The thing is though, as OP has gone on, while I wouldn't say Oda has "broken his writing rules", Kuma's backstory alone has pushed them to a new limit with the love-that-never-was story and the all-but-explicitly-stated storytelling.

So a part of me wonders, if Crocodile is trans, could Oda actually like... take a slightly deeper look into his feelings and explore his queer experience? ('Cause god knows, if Crocodad Real, then there really would be a literal coming out-story built into his backstory that would be extremely unavoidable, and as I've mentioned before, the fact that we haven't gotten to learn almost anything about his backstory yet is Kinda Fucking Sus)

Also I do want to mention how... like Oda gets a lot of bad rap when it comes to queer rep in One Piece, but the more I think about it, I think it's more an issue with the terminology and how translators have gone about either localizing it, or more often than not, leaving it unlocalized 'Cause like. Yes the "okama" would be horrible trans rep but... really... they're not trans representation. They're representation for draq queens. Piss poor draq rep, but still, they're draq queens. And just like our very real life drag performers; some of them are cishets. Some of them are gender non-conforming gay men. Some of them are nonbinary*. Some of them are trans women. Obviously lumping all of these people into one group is kinda offensive (which is why "okama" is (as far as I understand it) such an unpopular term even amongst queer people in Japan), and the way Oda often chooses to draw these characters looks no different to how gender criticals choose to present trans women in their propaganda.

*Like Bon-chan, who explicitly states they are both male and female. And Iva-chan, who switches between boy-mode and girl-mode from time to time, could arguably be called genderfluid (though any specific terminology is up to debate). Both are nonbinary draq queens.

And yet, despite all that. It can not be understated how if you put aside the nameless background gag-characters, Oda does treat the actual, proper queer characters with respect. Everyone would agree that Bon-chan is an absolute hero, we would all die for them. Iva-chan (and Inazuma too) is explicitly presented in a heroic light, seen as someone who helps people and fights for justice (with the Revs)

And then there's the first binary trans characters we've actually gotten, Okiku and Yamato. And I'm pretty sure we would all agree Okiku is 10/10 perfect trans fem representation (I am not entirely serious, I'm not trans fem so I can't speak for trans women here, it's just that I can't see anything Horrendously Wrong with how Okiku is presented within the story- not actually perfect but all things considdered, damn good). She is stunning, people around her (INCLUDING SANJI!!) don't just view her as a woman but would go out of their way to date her (as in, she is seen as "desirable", and not as some kind of a disgusting freak to avoid), she is heroic and sweet and kind and just. IDK I love her And while I'm sure many trans mascs would agree Yamato may not be how they want to be seen by the world (though having Yamato ID as a man while having the biggest moobs is surely validating for a lot of people, including anybody who might not want or be able to get top surgery and/or HRT), again, he is only presented as heroic within the narrative and respected by the characters around him, Luffy especially, which is by far the most important part; the protagonist going out of his way to be respectful of trans characters does represent the values of the story.

And like.

Think about how Oda has treated Crocodile so far.

Like, although we're all having a bit of a laugh over the whole Cross Guild thing, Oda is still treating him as a cool character whom he presents seriously and treats with respect. Like Oda wants the readers to see Crocodile as at least a little bit cool. So I can't imagine him pulling a full 180 with how Croc would be treated in the story if he was revealed to be trans, especially when the potential foreshadowing for that was laid out in the story years ago already.

All this to say; Oda is not perfect at all, but considdering the things he has gotten right so far, I think there is hope he could pull it off. Because Oda is for Queer Liberation.

Really, my only concerns would be whether or not there's a risk Crocodile could get somehow detrans'd during the story (I'm praying the Haki theory isn't an option, really Doc Q might be the only true risk here), if he's stealth and that got presented as "a wrong thing to do" (which I'd hope not, like our previous queer characters have been okay with being openly queer but that may have been more for the readers than anything else. At least, I hope, god knows if Crocodile is and wants to be stealth trans then that's his right and he shouldn't have to out if he doesn't want to, and yeah, I don't want him to be demonized within the narrative for being stealth (if he's stealth, for all we know he could be out)) and like, most importantly, what'd end up being Crocodile's "motivation" for transitioning in the first place

Like. God. I just. I don't want there to be a twist where Crocodile transitioned because "being a woman was weak" or because he "wanted to be acknowledged by Whitebeard" ('cause WB doesn't take women into his crew) or "the scar in his face made him so ugly he decided he should be a man instead" (seen unironic Redditors suggest that. Almost lost my mind) or something

Like I hope someone's at least tried to explain gender dysphoria to Oda. Like the man does have actual queer friends in real life (some of whom inspired characters in OP), so I'm hoping at least someone's tried to explain the feelings that come with The Trans Experience™ to him so that, if Crocodile's trans, then Oda can actually try to base his reasoning to transition on those feelings instead of any stupid "reasons" that no actual queer person would relate to

But it all just boils down to... Is Oda willing to actually dwell into those feelings and explore them in the story.

It... it really could go either way with Oda

So yeah. Anon, I'm with you, I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was at least A Little Worried. But also... I want to be hopeful. Because I do believe there is reason to be hopeful.

Only time will tell how it'll go

[fridayyy-13th]

ah great. yearning hours again.

[somegrumpynerd]

Staring out the window longingly when will my motivation to draw return from war

[penofwildfire]

Me when Biblical Allusion in Ninjago

[wild-at-mind]

Goddamit I spent all my 20s so depressed, now in my mid-30s all I want is to have a nightlife suddenly.

[karmaphone]

did you know! you can draw fat people in poses other than sitting down and standing like a tree! more at seven!

[fireheartedpup]

My dog is hungry, but she thinks her food made her nauseous or she's tired of it, so she keeps ignoring it and looking up at where I keep the treats.

We're having a body language conversation where I keep pointing to her food and stamping my foot and she keeps doing sassy little shakes.

[siribunbun]

Belated doodles for Kaeya day!

I've been out of the country for about a month and got to go on a vacation and then workation in Japan, Singapore, and Thailand! I drew this at Mae Kampong village in Chiang Mai on Kaeya's birthday and had some time to reflect (while eating lots of tasty and nostalgic food that I normally couldn't get back in the states). It's good to be home, but I miss a lot of things.

I also thought it would be nice to draw Kaeya traveling and enjoying different foods lol. Kaeya x Kaya Toast is my new favorite thing. One day I'll draw about it hehe ;u;