#Ship: Equals Zero

[dragoon-mid-jump]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 11: Surrogate

surrogate (n.): a substitute

Rating: G Word Count: 106

Renata howled with laughter. "Me? A hero? Now I've heard it all!"

"I'm serious, though!" Virgilio argued back. "That power you displayed back there, that's the power of a Memoriate; just the thing we need to save this world! I have it, too--"

The leporine woman waved him off. "--Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go find some other sap to sell your story to."

"I'm not making this up! I thought..." The man's face fell. "I thought I'd found somebody to work together with..."

"I work alone. Always have, always will." There's no place for me among so-called "heroes"... "You're better off finding someone else."

[task800]

this fandom pairs gavin and the rk900 dude like theres no tomorrow, which is lovely, follow ur bliss, happy for you. i want that same energy for north and kara. they are sampling from parallel water wells, they are running on similar batshit frequencies. north like 'what if we blow their ass up' (iconic of her) and kara like 'i'll run straight into high-velocity traffic man i'll fucking do it' (and then she did it) like these two women. repeatedly exposed to apathy, violence, cruelty. repeatedly wiped of their memories to keep them passive in the face of constant abuse. what if they met and held hands and raised alice to be their madmax pipe-bomb slinging baby . anyone.

[lanatusnebula]

elpizo

more like

el wiwi

[eleadore]

man ngl, as one of your readers your latest posts have me feeling kinda weird :/ if you really are so cool and chill with having no engagement cause you're doing it For The Art TM, then why should I spend my time and energy trying to engage with you? when you clearly don't care one way or the other?

also not to put too fine a point on it but it's literally always authors that DO get plenty of engagement that shame others for caring for stats lol. you write for the biggest ship in one of the biggest fandoms in the world. you've never had the experience of writing niche things for dead or small fandoms, and getting ZERO attention. like GENUINELY zero comments, maybe 5 kudos after a week. pouring your enthusiasm into the empty void and realizing you're alone does get soul-eroding and depressing eventually my dude. meanwhile you're here being fed every day and going all "oh why are these starved people acting so hungry, smh be better" lmao. like. okay. thanks 👍

and I mean sure at the end of the day it's each author's job to do the mental work and find a way to be positive and grateful for what they do get, but good god man. the lack of empathy or understanding from certain authors that never had to worry about these things is a truly ugly look. just saying.

i'm curious what drove you to make so many incorrect assumptions about me. can you elaborate.

i would hope the only reason you spend your time and energy trying to engage with me, a writer, is because you want to. i only want your attention if you came across something i created and it meant something to you, if you saw me in some way and wanted to express that. i don't want engagement because readers felt shamed or pressured or bullied into it.

kind of a hot take to say i have no empathy bc im not inclined to shed a tear over writers beating their chests & making a massive stink over not getting as much attention as they think they deserve

[squeiky]

METAL SONIC X CHAOS ZERO!!!

IN ALL THE CHARTS I COULD FIND!!

Some of the charts got repetitive, so i cropped it.

NOTES: there may be someee minor inconsitences as sometimes id change mind my across one chart to another.

If you want an expliantion for ANY of my choices here, please ask! I am starving for conversation about this relationship- so please please please ask my questions- or just tell me your own ideas! Idk! Communicate! Your words and thoughts are not dumb!! They are very important to me and must be shared!!!

Also, some more of my thoughts + notes after the cut:

-----------

I think my favorite charts are the first two, since the first one was pretty thourghough and easy to get whilst also including intresting and unique questions to the relatio ship dynamic. the second one i added a bit of character interaction so its really cute, and thats practically why i like.

---

I particularly like the touch chart, as i really had to consider wthe physicality of these two, and the custom model was fun to make (look they're even holding hands haha). It was a bit tricky considering i had to figure out what touches where welcomed and what weren't based on previous canonical interactions, and my own theories/speculations.

---

Oh, to explian the "lends clothes" and "borrows/steals clothes", i always found the neat detail of Neo Metal Sonic's wardrobe possesing a kind of.. arm warmer/bell sleeve? As well as its pants(?) Being a bell bottom.

Without the belt/butt cape, it does make metal sonics limbs somehwhat resemble the sillouette of Chaos' body, so obviously- i just figured that Chaos, if he were to wear any clothing, would probably be stolen by Metal Sonic since it already seems to be fond of that particular look that Chaos naturally has.

--

Oh, and Metal and Chaos being somewhat organized is due to thier jobs and enviornment they grew up in. Eggman, being the opposite of Sonics carefree, chaotic attitude, would likely prefer more cleaner, organized or "controlled" enviornments. Thus, i feel that Metal Sonic may have picked up a few tidying or cleaning habits that were a cause of eggman simply teaching or implimenting features in his bots to prefer the "clean up" of "dirty" or "messy" areas.

For chaos, i do recall reading something (perhaps on the chao wiki) of him purifying the Altars water and keeping it relatively clean from debries and such. Furthermore, having to be sole guardian of little children chao, the altar and the master emerald, requires a lot of responsibility and- if anyone has worked with children before- it can get very messy very quickly. So its mere speculation, but i do think Chaos would have picked up many cleaning habits as well, as well as cooking/harvesting skills due to him having to take care of large batches of critters.

Surprisingly, for a creature named "Chaos", the name only truely applies to the singular instance in which he is "Final Chaos" (as thats likely what the echidnas called him during and after that time.) Turns out, Chaos is way more controlled and responsible than chaotic and carefree.

So to segway, out of the two, Metal Sonic would be way more chaotic considering its nack for stirring up trouble (CD, Sonic Heroes, Chaotix.. ect) for the heroes, as well as it not really having major responsibilites outside of its purpose to "destroy sonic" and occasionally obey whatever task eggman requires of it.

Thus, is why in the driving promps, i title it "a speeder".

---

To explain the "Cognito Egro Sum" (aka. I think therefore i am) and the "infinty symbol" for the ages, er.. Metal sonic is a robot, and Chaos is an immortal being. If your being technical with it, you can say they're both relatively young, considering Chaos chao can't age and are often stuck in the form they were hatched in- despite the fact that chao do infact change as they age-

One can consider the idea that Chaos, for all intensive purposes, looks and probably is pretty young- if we apply chao logic to him.

Though one will argue "but Chaos is ancient" which is true, but his case is similar to Shadow's as he was trapped in that Master emerald for... millions of years............. so, similarly to how shadow was stuck for 50 years yet remains a teenager both inside and out, Chaos- for whatever age he was before he got trapped, probably still thinks and acts like that, as well as Tikal. Except now they probably need a LOT of therapy.

^hence why i put chaos's sleeping habits as "sleeps poorly" and "sleeps to little". In hindsight, being trapped in a emerald for thousands of years, with your freind of who's father killed your entire* family and burned your house (altar) down and tried to steal your most precious item (master emerald) and being the girl whos stuck with your freind(?) who killed your entire bloodline and basically genocided your entire community- stuck with him for THOUSANDS OF YEARS- is.....is going to require a lot of therapy.

So y'know, bad sleeping problems. Also probably why i depict Chaos hugging a lot + being affectionate, since being deprived your community that is entirely reliant on the concept of "caring, loving, and nurturing one another" (cause.. the opposite of that means chao will basically die upon reincarnation), for thousands of years is... a good recipe for touch starvation and a need for attention.

^hence why chaos is also on the attention side of some charts.

----

^ just conintuing off of that previous statement, i did move Chaos closer towards "extrovert" in the "extrovert or introvert" prompts, as since Chaos, unlike Metal Sonic, deals closely with many chao, and often is surrounded by a crowd of them, i do believe that Chaos would have to atleast gain some energy from social interaction in order to surivive that every day, without burning out.

----

The whole "who talks more" thing is kind of funny because, technically, its metal sonic (see Sonic Heroes + Sonic Free riders) who has more lines than.. Chaos's total of zero!

Meaning that, if anything, the "he said no pickles" meme would probably mean that Metal Sonic would be at the counter whilst Chaos is sitting in the back.

Though, compared to MANY other characters, these two are practically dead-silent, and would most likely rely on non-verbal ways of affection than verbal.

---

Oh and the "ethical v. Immoral thing" where i emphasized that chaos was "neutral" was because by compsring him to "chaos chao", theres a dark side, good guy side, and then neutral. Considering Chaos's history of amazingly goodwilled to horrendously incidous, one can conclude that he practically in the middle in terms of ethics or morality.

Metal sonic is definetly on the more immoral side, though i wouldnt put it all the way, as i do have considering enviornmental aspects to its behavior (such as well.. being a badnik, and being constantly exposed to eggman's immoral behaviors). So, other than like, unnesecarily abusing animal freinds in CD, and throwing a ship probably full of people at sonic (Sonic heroes) there aren't many instances in which Metal Sonic does something completely immoral and unjust- without any context regarding eggman ordering it too, or simply it just doing its job as a badnik.

However those actions are prettt bad on its own- though compared to... killing out an entire species... drowning thousands of people in a city and attempting to kill eggman with a giant laserbeam... and to whatever hyjinks eggman gets up too...

Its actions seem.. relatively small (though not obsolete.)

So like, theres not going to be many issues regarding "metal sonics gotta be a good guy"/ "i can fix him🥺" mentalities, since its kind of hard to do that, when you have a kill count of a 100+ whilst Metal Sonic is still on the "i'm needlessly harming animals, and threw a boat"...

Then again, i like to think the leiniency allows for them to work on themselves together, rather than tear eachother down or hate eachothers guts.

---

Transgender - both for my headcannnon, but also a refrence to it literally going "i transformed myself with my own hands" and well, i cant resist a pun/play on words now can i?

Agender- chaos dont have.. genders.

However, i thought this would change when introduced to concept of feminine and masculine models of the ancients in frontiers, but looking at Chaos, he doesnt resemble either one very much (tbh, in Sonic Forces, his model actually looks more akin to the fem version, than the pointy and sharp masc ones) and looks more akin to that of the children, if anything.

Plus, being masculine or feminine isnt really and indicator of gender anyways.. so like..???

So what? Does Chaos, gender? NOPE! Chaos isn't an ancient (thats his ancestor) and is a mutated chao. Chaos are genderless, or atleast out of that particular binary.

If Tikal showed up one day and started calling Chaos a "he/him", its likely that Chaos could've just.. adopted that. Assigned pronouns by random. Amazing.

So agender, as i can't think of anything else.

---

Sexuality -idk. Look, i dont consider whomth one likes. The knowledge of my characters, or other characters sexualites comes upon me in the way preists suddenly hear the words of their gods.

I dunno, until suddenly i know. Thats just how it is.

---

Ending it here cause im hungrt and cant think of anything else to chat on.

[mistystarshine]

fuck it, have a preview from something I'm working on before I crash.

*

“What did you do to me?” Lucifer whispered.

The witch crouched down to his level. There was no remorse in her eyes as they met his, but there was no enjoyment, either. “Has it truly been so long that you have forgotten the feeling of your own soul?”

The nails clawing at Lucifer’s chest went still. His fingers spread out to lay against the bloody spot over his chest. “My…”

Lucifer’s heart had not beat for hundreds of years. That much remained true. But still though it was, for the first time in so very long, it was there.

He could feel it.

He could feel…

Too much.

Lucifer slumped forward with a sob. Before he could collapse onto the ground, the witch caught his chin and forced him to meet her gaze. “This is my curse to you. For hundreds of years, you have preyed upon humanity as a monster unlike any other. Now, feel that humanity for yourself, and know the weight of what you have done.” The witch raised a hand to run the backs of her fingers against Lucifer’s cheek. “Lucifer Morningstar, you will know a parent’s love. You will know the joy that you have stolen from so many and share in their fates.”

The witch pulled away from Lucifer, leaving him to collapse in a sobbing mess. It all but drowned out her departing murmur of, “May God help you.”

[laismoura-art]

Huh...

Yellow and blue am I right??

I know I have mutuals from Argentina, so I hope at least they get this joke lol (¡Hola, vizinhos!)

Got the first pic from Freepick and they have that license thing so... the license thing:

<a href="https://br.freepik.com/vetores-gratis/uniforme-de-futebol-ou-futebol-de-selecoes-nacionais-argentina-brasil-espanha-franca-alemanha-italia-holanda-portugal-inglaterra_10600568.htm#query=camisa%20argentina&position=0&from_view=keyword&track=ais">Imagem de macrovector</a> no Freepik

[lofthousezzz]

[justskyla-art]

a couple of whiteboard fox doodles of zenless zone zero (plus gliscor) because my friends were busy playing animal jam and forgot about the whiteboard

[alovelylonelygoodra]

Never harass, just block and move on.

This just in

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose. 

When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.” 

As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.

“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”

The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.

The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing. 

Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.

You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.

“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out. 

“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.

“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”

Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.

“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.

“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.

“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.

“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.

“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.” 

“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.

“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”

“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?” 

You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.

“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.

“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”

“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.

“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.

Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.

“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.

That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.

With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived. 

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.

“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”

“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.

Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.

He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.

Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind. 

Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.

“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.

“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.

“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.

Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.

“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”

Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”

Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.

You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips. 

“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.

His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.

“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.

“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.

“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”

“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”

“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled. 

Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.

“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”

“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.

With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.

“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”

You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.

With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.

“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.

Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:

Yes, now.

and

No, never.

You settled on, “whatever.”

Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.

Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.

“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.

The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.

After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.

“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.

“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”

“Maybe I should drive?”

“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away. 

“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.

“No, you’re making it worse!” 

The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.

“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.

“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.

You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.

“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.

“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.

“No, that’s not-”

“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”

“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”

“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.

“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.

“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”

“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.

“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.

“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”

No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”

You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.

“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”

This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.

“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”

For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.

“Can I?” He asked, voice low.

“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.

“Fix things…with you?”

“I don’t know.”

It was the most honest answer you could give him.

“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.

“Yeah,” you gave in.

“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.

“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”

He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”

“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.

You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.

For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.

After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other. 

I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.

Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.

“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”

You laughed. 

“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.

“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.

“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”

He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”

“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.

“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.

“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”

“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”

“Oh.”

It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.

“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.

“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.

“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”

“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.

“When was I ever not mad at you?” 

“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”

You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.

You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Did you like that?” 

“You know I did.” 

He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“Then why didn’t you stay?” 

It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.

“Do you want me to let go?”

In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.

You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.

But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.

“Shit,” you jumped. 

“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.

“But how?” 

“How well can you swim?”

That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.

“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.

“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”

You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell. 

Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.

(Chapter 6: part one)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

a/n: please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[olderthannetfic]

OTNF, do you have an example of a show or other work that actually legitimately queerbaits the audience?

Because I know what queerbaiting is, and I know that all the examples I seen thrown around are acutally examples of queer coding, queer subtext, or of a popular fandom ship simply being a ship instead of being canon, but I can't actually think of anything that actually is queerbaiting.

And I know a commenter is about to chime in with the BBC Sherlock show. So I'll preempt it by saying that that one is a fandom ship and the show itself has less queer subtext or coding than most adaptations, even if it has more dumb gay jokes.

--

In my opinion, the number of shows that did this in canon is functionally zero.

The closest real example is that Teen Wolf promotion where they joked about Sterek as though they'd make it canon if people voted for the show (in the Teen Choice Awards? something of the sort).

The entire concept is deeply flawed because it is heavily predicated on the idea that this part of the audience is huge and actively courted by mainstream media makers in the US and places like that. In reality, normie Hollywood types are usually dense as hell about the level of hoyay in their media. When it's brought to their attention, they're bemused or amused or dismissive or think it's nice if fans can see what they want in a canon. (Sometimes, this is because they're terminally straight. Sometimes, it's because they genuinely and eternally see buddy cops as Just Bros and a boring story about pursuing someone whom you will never regard as an equal or bestie as Romance, and this is often true of queer people making mainstream media.) In a few cases, they tried to make something gay, but the producer/studio/network head/Chinese government/etc. stopped them, which is still not queerbaiting. What they aren't is excited about the economic opportunities provided by pulling a bait and switch on that part of the audience.

The vast, vast, vast, vast majority of media either does not give two shits about our kind of audience or is aimed specifically at us and not others. The idea of gaining meaningful ratings or money with this kind of move is just... not how most industries work.

Related concepts are real (as you say), and people keep trying to redefine queerbaiting to cover some of them so they can pretend the term has any actual utility instead of just using the older terms for these specific other concepts. The narrow form of queerbaiting is a self-important delusion that fandom made up to torture ourselves with.

I wish all those dumbass undergrad papers I see blathering on about the subject would start their exploration by at least trying to figure out whether the practice is real in the first place and why and how the idea of it spread instead of taking it as a given.

[tevanbegins]

The only people thinking that Bucktommy's storyline is ruining the show are the B*ddie fanatics and the homophobic fans who are disappointed that Buck came out as queer. However, the rest of the viewers don't think that way at all. Even if you put aside the BT fandom, the general audiences still enjoy the show. The improved viewership ratings reflect that.

BoBs don't want Buck to end up with the first ever man he has dated (this only bc said man isn't Eddie); they believe he needs to 'explore' his bisexuality more. The GA, on the other hand, is happy to see that Buck is finally settling into a stable, healthy relationship with a caring partner who respects him and reciprocates his feelings equally. Apart from many queer fans who are celebrating this crucial LGBTQ+ representation, most of the GA probably doesn't even care that Buck is with a man and the queerness of it all. They just like seeing a beloved character finally finding true love, after seasons of stumbling through a series of failed relationships.

Buck and Tommy's love story not only sustained the existing viewership, but boosted it further by drawing in plenty more new viewers to the show. This is apparent through the impressive ratings, and the fact that the show's renewal for season 8 was confirmed not long after 'Buck, Bothered and Bewildered' aired.

Another thing that BoBs don't realise is that the GA also comprises casual watchers and people who might not care about Buck or Eddie at all. The show has an Oscar & Emmy-winning actress among its main cast - Angela Bassett. It also has another beloved veteran actor like Peter Krause. There are people who are watching this show for them. There are people who may be far more invested in Bobby-Athena, Maddie-Chimney, or the Hen-Karen storylines than whatever the hell's going on with Buck or Eddie. Or there may be audiences who appreciate the platonic friendship between Buck-Eddie the same way they like Hen-Chimney or Hen-Athena with zero expectation of it turning romantic.

The only reason why it seems that B*ddie is the most popular thing about 9-1-1 is that their fandom is a loud and hyperactive majority across social media. Other fandom stans and GA/casual viewers may not be as dominant on socials, but they exist in a lot higher numbers than BoBs can ever imagine. BoBs overestimate their clout.

Bucktommies obviously love Tommy Kinard with their whole hearts, adore how good he is with Buck, and so would love for them to be endgame. But BoBs don't realise that even the audiences that are not hugely invested in Tevan as us BTs, are not losing sleep over the fact that Buck is with Tommy and not Eddie. They watch the show for other characters and storylines and all the drama and action. Buck's love life doesn't hamper their enjoyment of the show; they may be neutral to it. Even if not all of them maybe loving Tommy, doesn't mean they hate him either.

Again, the reason why Buck or Eddie's past relationships with their female LIs weren't popular even among the GA the way Madney, Henren, or Bathena are, is not because they wanted Buck and Eddie to end up together. I believe it's because those romantic storylines were half-baked or poorly-written, not making the casual viewer care enough. If Buck ever had a female LI with as much potential as Tommy, or if Eddie could treat a partner decently, those hypothetical ships could become popular too. People enjoy Bucktommy because of how beautiful their love story is overall, not simply because it's a 'queer' love story. Their storyline has the potential to be long-term, and Tommy being well-integrated with the rest of the characters solidifies the possibility of him and Buck going a long way.

What excuse would the BoBs who want Buck to experiment have had if Buck hadn't come out last season and Tommy were a woman? What if that storyline would still show a positive romantic development for Buck where the new female LI put in an equal amount of effort into the relationship, like Tommy has? Yes, a lot of the initial hype around Bucktommy was because it's a queer love story, but even if you replaced Tommy with a female character and made her care about Buck the same way that Tommy does, or have Buck be as smitten with her as he is with Tommy, many audiences would still dig that.

The same-sex aspect of it is just icing on the cake; the cake would still have been delicious if baked well (but the icing is significant for queer fans who crave good representation on TV.) But integrating Buck's bisexuality arc into a thriving relationship with a pre-established character is a welcome development for queer fans and GA alike. The viewership stats prove that Bucktommy is definitely not damaging the show, but contributing to making it more successful if anything.

So the BoBs need to know that all their constant whining, cyberbullying and Tommy/LFJR slander is not going to scare ABC or the showrunner & writing staff into giving them what they want. B*ddie fanatics are too tiny a portion of this gigantic equation (that exists far beyond the confines of social media), and losing them is not going to affect the network or the people making the show.

Even in the unfortunate scenario that Bucktommy doesn't last, most of the GA/casual viewers will still not stop watching the show. We BTs will be heartbroken and cry for a few weeks and then move on, because the show's writers can do what they want and owe us nothing. But we're not going to spend years bullying and threatening them for not making our ship endgame. That's the power of GA and the show will continue for as long as it has the ratings and network support to back it up, regardless of who Buck ends up with.

And for now, the GA is enjoying Buck with Tommy, so luckily things aren't looking too shabby for the BT fandom and the storyline should stay its course unless the writers decide otherwise, which they don't really have a reason to given the largely positive response reflected through the ratings. Even though we can't predict what happens in the future, we'll cherish every small or big Bucktommy win that comes our way until then! BoBs can keep screaming into the void as usual, but things wouldn't change because they think they can make it happen. That's all.

___

[kathrahender]

I was seeing posts of one of my favorite ships (It was Swanqueen btw) and I almost started crying when I saw a gif of them and other LGBT ships from different shows because why can't we win, not even once?

Like seriously- they always make canon straight ships even if they have zero chemistry or development, and every time there's an LGBT ship with good chemistry and good development the writers go like "Haha no they're not lovers, they're just friends/family/rivals/enemies lol" or they kill one of them not to make it canon. And it's so freaking unfair. And it hurts. It freaking hurts. It's always the same story: there's two women/two men who share a lot of scenes together, looking at each other with heart-eyes, showing how deeply they care about each other, and the writers decide to pair one of those characters with another character of the opposite gender because then the ship would be straight and not LGBT.

And It hurts so much seeing the writers not making a ship canon just because it's LGBT. And for what? For who? For homophobic people? For queerphobic people who don't know nothing better? For queerphobic people who are the worst for not accepting someone dating a person of the same gender? They seriously make canon straight ships just for them? For that kind of people?

The LGBT colective are humans too. The LGBT colective are people. They're not machines. We are not machines without emotions. We are not inhumans. We deserve to be loved as much as a straight person deserves to be loved. We deserve to be represented in the media as much as a straight person does. And we deserve to be treated as people. As equals. As human beings. We don't deserve to be treated as freaks. We don't deserve to be treated as ill people. We don't deserve to be treated as some kind of monster. For the love of God, we are humans like you. Like everyone else. Loving someone of the same gender doesn't change that. Not wanting to love/not wanting to have sex with someone doesn't change that. And being trans or non-binary doesn't change that neither.

We don't deserve to be afraid of telling our parents we are LGBT. We don't deserve to go to conversion therapy because we're "ill". We don't deserve to cry because the world doesn't accept us. We don't deserve to be treated as criminals for being LGBT. We don't deserve to beg for representation in media. (Most of these things didn't happen to me -and I have to thank God for that- but I know it happened to people in other countries, so I wanted to say it)

And if you (the writer of those shows with queerbating) are okay with people suffering because you don't show the world LGBT people are normal people too (and not freaks), then I think you're not better than the queerphobic people. As someone said, "If you are in a class with a bully and you do nothing, you're not better than the bully". And if you live in a world with queerphobic people, and you do nothing to make them a minority, then you're not better than them. And no, don't come crying at us. "But I-" No, don't make excuses. If you don't make an LGBT ship canon because "the world will judge you for it" then you're not really an ally. So don't you dare try to act like one.

ND Stevenson is a real ally. Dana Terrace is a real ally. You know why? Because they didn't make a straight ship canon just because it was straight. They made a LGBT canon because they had chemistry. And we saw the chemistry in that canon LGBT couple. So unless you're like them and you make an LGBT ship canon, you're not an ally like they are. (And yes, the LGBT canon ship of their shows are good representation, so don't come at me saying it's bad representation. Just say you don't like lgbt couples and leave it there)

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing #4 (100 Follower Special!)

Have you got any that deserve to be on these lists? Don’t be shy! Send ‘em over.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

*This list contains mentions of assault, #4

1. Zero cursing is better than censored cursing

I made the mistake in the early days of writing a self-censoring character, and every “curse” she said just took the teeth out of the rest of the statement. I’m talking gosh, darn, dang, etc, not world-specific idioms a la “scruffy nerf herder” or “dunderhead” instead of “dumbass”.

Look to any American TV show that so, so badly wants to use f*ck or sh*t but has to appease the sensitive conservatives who still somehow believe strong language is worse than graphic violence and horrifying psychological damage. For shame! Your characters can be angry without expletives, so rework your sentences to include equally damning insults that don’t resort to potty mouths if you’re concerned about ratings.

Or go full-throttle into the idioms of the world or the time period like Pirates of the Caribbean. Or just… don’t. There’s zero modern cursing in the Lord of the Rings adaptation and not a single sentence that censors itself. The dialogue is above vulgarity and feels more *fantastical* that way anyway.

2. “Yeah, you aren’t the target audience.”

It’s kind of hilarious seeing the range of reader reactions to two characters I intend to have a romantic relationship. Some will go “I ship it!” after the first page of them together… and another will go “wait, I thought they were just friends” up until they kiss. Sometimes you might be too subtle, other times it might be better to just accept that you can’t rewrite your entire book to please one naysayer.

When I’m pitched a fantasy adventure book that turns out to be a by-the-numbers romance where no one is allowed to be a peasant and every important character is royalty in some way, with a way cooler fantasy backdrop, I get severely disappointed. That doesn’t mean the book is bad, it just means I’m not the target audience.

3. There is no greater character sin than making them boring

Unless you live in the wacky world we find ourselves in where any flaws whatsoever are apparently harmful depictions of so-and-so and not at all written with things like ~nuance~. I will gush over your heinous villain committing atrocities because he’s *interesting*. I will not remember Bland Love Interest who’s a generic everyman with zero compelling or intriguing traits or flaws.

There’s another tumblr post out there that I cannot find that says something like this, and I believe the post goes “his crimes are fiction, my annoyance is real”. Swap annoyance for boredom and you get what I mean. So, I don’t care what your character does so long as they’re memorable. I will either root for their victory or their doom, but I do need *something* to root for.

4. The line between “gratuitous” and “respectful” is actually very thick

Less what no one tells *you* about writing and more what no one tells screenwriters. Y’all do realize you can write a character who experiences assault without actually writing the assault, right? Fade to black, have them mention it in their backstory, or have the horrific aftermath as they come to terms with it. An abrupt cut to this devastated character when it’s all over and they’re alone with themselves can be incredibly poignant and powerful. This goes with anything sensitive, especially if it’s not coming from experience.

If you want to write it or film it respectfully, romanticizing assault, for instance, is when it’s framed as if either character has earned or “deserves” it. If the narrative in any way argues that it's justified. The victim might have "earned" it for any of the BS reasons we use in the real world, or the perpetrator might've "earned" it because of temptation, desire, pressure to assert dominance, etc. Representation is important, but are you “representing” to shed light on a misunderstood and maligned topic, or are you doing it to satisfy a fetish or bias in yourself?

5. Don’t let your eyes get bigger than your stomach

Fantasy has no limitations, which means you can dig way deeper into the well of your worldbuilding than you realize, until you look up and realize you’re stuck down there. I have never seen a more obvious inevitable disaster looming than the pilot of GoT season 5. Why? Nobody has any plans. They’re all just led around by whatever side quest the writers throw them on, twiddling their thumbs until the writers deign to pull the trigger on the White Walkers.

To the point that what should be a major character can skip an entire season because his arc is meaningless. Everything in the last half of that show was one big “eventually” while the story toiled around in an ever-expanding cast of characters and set pieces (seriously, it’s hilarious how jarring the extended version of the theme music became compared to the pilot episode to fit all these locations).

When you have too many directionless characters, too many plot elements, too many ideas you want to fully mature and get their due spotlight and then somehow combine them all together for a common foe in the end, writing can get tedious and frustrating very quickly. Why, I imagine, the book series remains unfinished. Fantasy is great for being able to create such complex worlds, but don’t be the snake that eats its own tail trying too hard.

6. No one cares about your agenda if you insult them to push it

This deserves its own post but here we go. Peddling an agenda is a paradox: those who agree with you won’t need to be preached to, and those who you want to persuade will instead reject you further because they feel belittle and disrespected. This is why so many recent “strong female characters” fail on both sides of the aisle. Feminists see an annoying caricature of the movement they’re passionate about. Antifeminists see an insufferable, shallow, liberal mouthpiece when they just want to be entertained. You have failed both sides, congrats.

The answer? Write a strong, nuanced, well-developed character. Then make them a woman. I know this has been said before but this BS keeps happening so clearly the screenwriters aren’t listening. Entertain me first. Entertain me so well I don’t even realize I’m learning.

7. Today’s audiences won’t react the same way as tomorrow’s

Sometimes genres or tropes get oversaturated and need a few years to cool off before audiences are receptive to them again—teen dystopia, anyone?—that doesn’t mean your story is inherently bad because it’s unpopular (nor does it mean it’s amazing because it is popular).

You should always write the book you want to read, not the book that chases trends. I can pick up a well-written teen dystopia I’ve never read before and enjoy it. I can continue to ignore Divergent because it has nothing to say. Write the book you want to read, but then accept that you might make no money because no one else wants to read it, not because they think it’s bad. And, who knows? You might get a boom of chatter months or years down the line when readers stumble upon an uncut gem.

8. Your characters don’t age with you

Depending on how long you’ve been working on your world and what age you were when you started, the characters, concepts, morals, and story you set out to tell might no longer reflect who you want to be as an author when all is said and done. Writing can take years, some of which can be incredibly turbulent and life changing. I wrote the first draft of my first original novel in my freshman year of college. Those characters and that draft are now unrecognizable and has left a world I’ve poured my heart and soul into in limbo.

I’ve slowly creeped up my characters’ ages. My writing has matured dramatically. The themes I wanted to explore in the height of the 2016 election are just demoralizing now. That book was my therapeutic outlet and, as consequence, my characters sometimes reflect some awful moods and mindsets that I was in when writing them. But nothing in that world grows without me tending to it. It’s not alive. Despite all the work I’ve done, there’s still more to be done, maybe even restarting the plot from the ground up. When I think of what no one told me about writing, staring at characters designed by someone I’m not anymore is the hardest reality to accept.

—

If you think I missed something, check out parts 1-3 or toss your own hat into the ring. Give me romance tropes. Mystery, thriller, historical fiction, bildungsromans, memoires, children’s books, whatever you want! Give me stuff you wish you’d known before editing, publishing, marketing, and more. 

Also, don’t forget to vote in the dialogue poll!

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ²

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: whispers all around the marine ship warn of a new cadet handpicked by the vice admiral himself, making for fine gossip. meanwhile, the strawhat crew wonders why their captain is so frustrated with a storybook.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader, koby x platonic!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gender neutral reader, angst, platonic fluff, koby and reader team up of the century

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤: this is me trying

series masterlist

Koby really wanted Helmeppo to shut up, but didn’t have the heart to say it. So he let his new friend rattle on and on whilst they were meant to be getting important work done mopping the deck.

Though Koby did admit, the hushed whispers around the ship of a new cadet were intriguing. And apparently, Helmeppo knew all about the new recruit.

“New?” Helmeppo laughed. “They’re far from new. Been at this for a matter of months and already they’re at the top.”

“How come?” Koby couldn’t help but ask, leaning slightly on his mop. “Experience?”

“Probably,” Helmeppo considered, turning secretive the next moment. “I hear they grew up with Garp, learned all they know from him and their father, who also happens to be a major.”

No wonder there was so much praise for this cadet. “And they’re really that good?”

Helmeppo nodded through a sigh. “So they say. Apparently, they’ve been assigned to this ship by Garp himself. No big surprise there. If this cadet is as fierce as they claim, we’ve got some competition.”

Koby nodded mindlessly, getting back to swabbing the deck, trying his best to focus, but Helmeppo just moved on to the next topic of his interest. 

“Hey, do you wonder—” Helmeppo stopped short, catching sight of an approaching figure through the dark shrouding the deck. 

Glancing up, Koby saw them too, a puzzled crease forming on his brow. The figure fumbled about the dark, mumbling to themself, two buckets in hand. 

Only after nearly tripping over air and stumbling to a stop did they draw out a sigh and assess their surroundings, finding Koby and Helmeppo watching with equally curious expressions.

“Oh, uhm,” they stammered, stepping into the dim lamplight Koby had set to the side. “Hello. I’m, uh, I was sent me to help.” They set down the buckets and stepped back. “Fresh warm water, and uhm, soap.”

Koby reacted quicker than Helmeppo, who watched this stranger carefully. He went to inspect the first bucket, smiling at the sudsy water. Given that Helmeppo had knocked their bucket over and Koby could only save a quarter of the water, this was a godsend. “Thank you. This helps a lot.”

The words went straight to the stranger’s head, a smile breaking out on their face as they turned to take up a spare mop. “No problem. Anything to stay useful. That’s what my dad always says, at least. A useless soldier's a dead soldier, or something like that.”

Whatever reservations Helmeppo had faded at the prospect of another gossip buddy, prompting an eye roll from Koby as he moved to start cleaning the farther end of the deck.

“Are you new?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Oh, yeah,” the stranger replied. “I just transferred from that marine base we’re docked at.”

Helmeppo immediately stopped mopping and zeroed in on the stranger, like a disarming fledgling hawk to an unbothered mouse. “You would know about Y/N L/N, then. They’re being transferred to this ship too.”

There was a brief silence after the question, only long enough to have Koby cast a curious glance back at them. The stranger stopped mopping too, a thoughtful look crossing their face, before they nodded. “What about Y/N L/N?”

“So you’ve met them?” Helmeppo wondered, cutting the stranger off before they could answer. “I’m curious to see if they live up to their reputation.”

The stranger folded their hands behind their back, face quite expressionless. “Oh… What’s their reputation? From an outside perspective, I mean?”

“Only that they’re responsible for twenty arrests within the span of three months. That’s bullshit, in my opinion. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” The stranger’s undivided attention was now given to Helmeppo, and he was living for it. “Apparently, they were trained up by Vice Admiral Garp himself. I hear they’ve even had a drink with Dracule Mihawk. Can you believe that? Honestly, I’m just waiting to meet this cadet and see if they’re as cold hearted as everyone says.”

Now, Koby was smart. He had to be in order to survive. So of course he’d caught on far before Helmeppo, watching the stranger’s grip on their broom tighten and their gaze tighten into a glare. 

He rushed up behind the stranger and mimed for Helmeppo to shut up. All Koby got in return was a strange sort of look and complete ignorance. Koby ran a palm over his face.

The stranger was quiet for an everlasting moment, before they dipped their mop into a bucket and continued to do their job. “It was twenty-three.”

Helmeppo tilted his head as if to hear them better. “Sorry?”

Quite having enough of hearing what other people thought of you, you swiftly whirled back to face him with a steeled expression. “I said I took part in twenty-three arrests in three months. I was raised in the same town as Garp, so yes he trained me as a child. I’ve never met Dracule Mihawk and I’ve never had a drink with anyone.”

You jutted out your chin. “And yes, I’d say I am cold hearted when the situation requires it. Like when dealing with a ignorant, gossiping pain in my ass!”

Jaw slack, Helmeppo searched out for Koby’s assistance, only receiving a pointed glare from his friend. You mopped some more and moved to go back over the spot Helmeppo had already done. “Put some more elbow grease into it, yeah? These decks outta be spotless by morn.”

Miraculously, the deck was nothing but tranquil after that. The three of you worked in silence till just as you’d said, the deck was spotless to your satisfaction. Helmeppo retreated back to the barracks immediately, seeking to collect his pride off the floor, leaving you and Koby.

Koby was going to apologize on his friend’s behalf when he found you picking up your bucket and mop and trudging off to the afterdeck. Koby followed after you, telling you, “Oh, we don’t have to clean the afterdeck. That’s next shift’s job.”

You didn’t reply, setting the sloshing bucket down and starting to work. Koby paused. “We should sleep. We’re setting off tomorrow—”

“I’m aware,” you said carefully, without too much malice. “I know we don’t have to. I want to. I’m not tired.”

The bags under your eyes begged to differ. Koby watched you work before he hurried off, and half of you was sorry to be alone again. But then the boy came back with his own mop in hand, causing you to halt and observe as he started to join you.

“What’re you…”

“I’m Koby,” he said, holding out a hand with a scant smile. 

Glancing down, you accepted his hand and grinned. “Y/N. But you knew that.”

He grimaced. “Sorry about Helmeppo.”

Shrugging, you said, “Eh, I’m used to it.”

And you set back to mopping the night away, having the occasional laugh with Koby who did the same. Only when there was without a doubt nothing left to clean of the afterdeck, yet you continued to go back over it, did Koby stop and get in your way.

“I can see my reflection in the deck,” he tried to joke. “It’s okay to stop.”

You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. If you stopped, you had time to think. If you had time to think, you’d think of him. If you thought of Luffy, well, you’d be lost to your thoughts for the rest of the night. It was a whole cycle you couldn’t afford to go down. Not as a marine. 

Marine’s don’t have time for trivial affairs such as heartache.

But Koby was insistent, snatching your mop away from you and holding you back when you tried to get it back. He held a soft look as you glared daggers into him. “I think I understand.”

You scoffed, giving up and picking up the buckets to put away. You turned your back and headed to find the supply closet. “What exactly do you understand?”

“I... I was on a pirate ship before this,” he told you, causing you to slow enough for him to fall into step beside you. “I was forced to do things I’m not proud of. Sometimes I feel like I’ve got to make up for it.”

You cast him a glance. “I wasn’t a pirate.”

“But you’ve done something you’re not proud of,” he guessed.

Coming to a halt, you bit down on your cheek as Koby turned to face you, confusion laced in his expression. “You don’t know me, Koby. I’m proud of how I got here. That doesn’t make it easier to sleep at night.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I understand.”

He didn’t. He couldn’t. But it was nice he tried, you supposed. “Okay.”

So he helped to put away the mops and dump out the buckets, following you back to the barracks. All the lights were off, leaving limited sight to find your way to your bunk, clambering through the dark as quietly as you could.

Koby was having a harder time, tripping over something and nearly waking the whole room. You shot him a glare and hurried to bed, hiding under the covers. The bed was hardly comfortable, and tossing and turning did nothing to provide any comfort. 

Rolling onto your back, you refrained from opening your eyes as long as you could before they pried themselves open, and you came face to face with Monkey D. Luffy. His wanted poster was pinned to the underside of the top bunk, something you had thought was a good idea at the time, but now it offered an unwanted spectator to your sleeplessness.

Still, you didn’t have the heart to take it down, pulling the thin blanket up over your head.

જ⁀➴

Nobody wanted to be the first to approach the captain, not when he was in a mood none of them had ever seen him in. If the crew was honest, it made them nervous.

“Somebody should make sure he’s okay,” said Usopp, looking around the lot of them as if to prompt one of them to step up. 

They all leaned upon the railing around the ship’s helm, eyes locked on Luffy. The boy sat cross legged on the deck, a book of all things in his lap. From the crease in his brow, he was growing increasingly frustrated.

“Not it,” Zoro quipped when he caught Nami giving him that look.

She rolled her eyes and pushed off the rail, glaring as she scathed, “Honestly.”

Taking tentative steps, Nami assessed the situation closer, not meaning to provoke whatever was going on in Luffy’s head. The book lay open to the very first page, his face a little too close to the words as he sighed every few seconds. He flipped to the next page, then the next, before gritting his teeth and going back to the first. 

Kneeling at his side, she bumped his shoulder as she settled down. “Luffy?”

“Hmm?” He barely looked up from the page, and Nami wondered if he even registered what she’d said.

“You okay?” When she didn’t get a response, she ducked forward to see what he was reading. “The Two Birds?”

Luffy snapped the book shut so fast Nami flinched, the sudden smile on his face a little bit of whiplash. “Sorry, what?”

“Luffy, what’s wrong?” she asked, concerned. “You’ve been glaring at that storybook all day.”

“Nothing,” he waved her off and tried to hide the book behind him. “Is it time to eat?”-

Nami wasn’t letting him get away from this, not when his smile was a little too bright to be real. Luffy had never been like this, and it was worrying her more than she liked to admit. “Luffy.”

Gaze flickering from each of her eyes, Luffy’s smile slowly but surely lost its enthusiasm, lips curling downward. He brought the book back to his lap, holding it ever so gently, skimming his fingertips over the cover. “It belongs to my lover.”

“Wait.” She blinked. “Lover?”

Nodding, Luffy almost smiled. “It’s their favorite book. I used to have more, but my ship sank. This is the only one I could save.”

The melancholy in how he said it gave Nami a sick kind of feeling, a million different ideas of this stranger’s fate coming to mind. She almost didn’t even ask. “What happened to them?”

“We got separated a few months ago,” he said, before giving the book a firm nod, “but I’ll find them again.”

“How do we do that?” Nami asked instantly, drawing another half smile out of Luffy as he raised his eyes to meet hers.

“Well,” Luffy laughed breathily, “it’s a bit complicated. They’re with the marines.”

They weren’t dead, which was good, Nami supposed. But this? This wasn’t what she’d expected. “Your lover is a marine?”

“Unfortunately. I couldn’t save them. But they’re strong.” His grin wavered. He thought of that sinking feeling when you remained on land, staring after him with this look he couldn't get out of his head. You'd looked like this was what you planned; him escaping, and you staying. It had been noble of you, he supposed, and he could never hate you for it.

Luffy swallowed thickly and his eyes went all misty. “They’re the strongest, kindest, truest person I know. I’ll find them, and I’ll return their book.”

Nami still couldn’t figure it out. “If they’re so good, why’re you burning a hole into their book?”

“Oh.” Luffy’s cheeks warmed at the question. “Uhm, I was trying to read it but… I got stuck. They usually read it to me.”

She should have left it at that. Really, Nami should have patted him on the back and offered to get a pre-dinner snack to cheer him up. But for some reason, Nami found herself looking at the storybook and hesitantly saying, “Can I?”

“Really?” The shine in Luffy’s eyes nearly made it worth it. 

Nami sighed and forced a smile. Only, she didn’t have to force it too much; Luffy’s quickly brightening expression warmed her from the inside out. “Sure. Hand it over.”

She’d barely laid a hand on the book when Luffy whipped his head around and shouted across the deck, “Guys! Nami’s reading a story!”

“Luffy…” she groaned, pursing her lips as Usopp jumped down the stairs, swiftly followed by Sanji and a more reluctant Zoro. 

Luffy raised a brow. “What?”

Letting out a huff, Nami simply flipped open the book. Usopp plopped down beside her, leaning in to see what book it was. 

“A story?” Zoro asked, ever unamused. Nami shut him up with one glare. 

“I personally am happy to hear Nami’s lovely voice,” Sanji piped in with a wink.

Nami gave the chef a deadpan, her head tilted. “Thanks.”

“C’mon,” Usopp urged her. “Let's see if it beats the tales of Great Captain Usopp.”

“All right, all right,” she laughed, turning to the very first page and starting to read off the story to them. 

Every once in a while Luffy would start frowning again, eyes unfocused, the words Nami read piercing his heart. It never lasted too long though, some commentary from Usopp dragging a snicker out of him. And when the story came to a close, Luffy offered his crew a grin. 

“Y/N would like you guys,” he said, raising some confusion among the men around him.

Nami tried to smile and, half to explain and half to reassure, said, “We’ll get your lover back, at some point.”

Maybe three seconds went by before all heads jolted in Luffy’s direction. 

“Lover?!”

>>