#i could talk about what couples each character ships but that is SO much to get into LOL

[genericpuff]

Looking back on it, Rachel really should have called Lore Olympus something else. It really doesn't seem to want to focus on 'lore' or 'olympus' and would rather be a romance with her self insert and celebrity crush. So many plot points and characters got thrown away for her two characters. It reminds me of Twilight having interesting background characters (Rosalie deserved better) and an interesting supernatural world. Yet Stephanie just focused on the dry ass romance of Edward and Bella.

I mean, the title totally worked in the beginning, the comic just lost the plot after its first season and became more like what you're describing, a weird May December romance about a girl who's only empowered enough to wait until marriage with the first guy she ever crushed on before having sex 💀

And yeah true that, a lot of fantasy dark romances like Twilight suffer from the issue of getting too hyperfocused on the main couple doing stuff and not paying enough attention to the actually interesting stuff going on around them. Though I will say, in Twilight's case, a lot of the "interesting stuff" was grossly misrepresented from Indigenous tribes and beliefs so... maybe it's for the best Stephanie didn't expand too much on it all in the end LMAO

Of course, the same can be said for LO, there were some really interesting plot hooks happening around H x P, but by the time S2 rolled around, all of those hooks got shoved under the bed until it was time to hastily wrap them up for those of us who were waiting to see them resolved. I think the Hera and Echo plotline was one of the worst culprits for that, you can tell in S2 she had an idea for some kind of "double agent" story with Echo where Echo would slowly come around to Hera's side and have to choose between her and the job Zeus clearly hired her for (to spy on Hera) - but then it just wound up skipping all that so we could watch Hades and Persephone play golf with diamonds, go shopping, and fuck around in the Underworld, until Rachel had to suddenly wrap up the entire Hera x Echo story in the most rushed, confusing way possible just a handful of episodes before the end.

LO had a lot of interesting concepts and ideas especially with the added benefit of it being based off myths that many readers were already familiar with, but unfortunately they were in the hands of a terrible writer working for a terrible company that didn't provide her with the resources she needed and could have really benefited from to tell a better story. It clearly needed a more involved editing process, more drafts to work through and scrap and work through again, more time to really plan out the full skeleton of the story, but what we got instead was more like a rushed first draft that spent more time on the bland uninteresting DDLG couple because they were clearly the easiest things Rachel could write about - fantasy shipping scenarios of them talking romantically to each other, making out, and having sex, boom, plot 🥴

[phantomrose96]

Aromantically rotating this quote from Jon "The Silt Verses" Ware from the Season 2 Q&A (bold emphasis mine)

Question: I love what Paige and Hayward have going on. How would you describe their dynamic? ​ JON: I saw someone online talk about the, “the paladin and the prophet.” Which I think is a really nice way of looking at it! Whereas I saw them as two people who…both of them have come to the end of the road in their old lives. [...] I think maybe there’s also an implicit question there about whether there’s something romantic going on – maybe I’m reading into it, but that is something that’s on my mind a lot, so I’d love to talk about it more. ​ Because shipping is fantastic and it’s wonderful and it’s cool, but as a writer who’s way too online in a parasocial world, I’m really wary of how I respond to it and how I process it. ​ I personally, I don’t like writing fictional characters where the most important moment in their narrative arcs is when they get together with the person they were always meant to get together with. Generally, it’s just a bugbear of mine in fiction and I’m not sure I agree with the underlying message. ​ But I think if any writer who’s way too online sees, hey, people are getting excited about these two characters hooking up and falling in love and they keep coming back to this idea of them hooking up and falling in love, there’s a real rodent voice in the back of your head whispers, "give the people what they want. Get those likes, get that fanart." ​ Which is the wrong response! Because we don’t understand that maybe people are just having fun exploring these characters or their own interpretations of these characters, we think they must be anticipating a pay-off from us. ​ And again, I think it can send you in the wrong direction, one that ends up being essentially flattening – we don’t think, "if these characters hook up, OK, what new opportunities does that give us to explore them, to understand them in greater depth?" Instead we think we need to perform a climactic moment of love and comfort and happiness to get the audience’s approval. Which can be very much to the detriment of the complexity of the characters, but also, afterwards, where do you go with it? ​ And after we released maybe one episode of The Silt Verses, I saw a couple of folks online going ‘oh, god, I hope this isn’t going to end with Carpenter and Faulkner hooking up,’. And you go, "oh my god, I hadn’t considered that as a possibility for a second, that’s not who they are and that’s not what the relationship is here" - but of course all of us are primed for it, that enemies-to-lovers thread that is so common. ​ [...] ​ So it felt like I could introduce a connection there [with Paige and Hayward] and we could see a different way that they begin to be around each other that hopefully feels like it’s adding new dimensions to both of the characters without me looking over my shoulder going, “Am I in danger of turning this into something a bit stock by turning it into quite a straightforward romantic situation?”

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i need to know what would be the saiki k character pjsk players favorite everything from the game would be.. like no true crossover or anything, just tdlosk characters playing the game...

ive talked like a litttle bit about this but not ENOUGH. (plus i cant even find my posts talking about this lol)

1000% without a doubt, kusuos fav group is niigo... he kins literally all four of them but especially kanade and mafuyu (also kinda kins nene and honami but u wouldnt hear that from him) but his FAVORITE character is mizuki.. i cant explain it, im just right.. his whole profile and all that is extremely niigo heavy, but wxs is actually a close second favorite for him lol.. rui reminds him too much of his brother though so he kinda tries to avoid it but. i honestly think he would take comfort in it after a while. in the same way he takes comfort in mafuyus stories because he relates a lot, but it also kinda makes him feel sick. also ive talked abt this on other posts like the smash bros mains post, but in classic average guy fashion, kusuo mostly picks characters that look like him to like, so he just usually picks pink characters.. so along with mostly caring about niigo, he also really likes and always pulls for specifically mizuki, airi, emu, saki, and luka.. lol.. hes also a thumb player but u did NOT hear that from me..

chiyo has her fav groups RANKED and it goes 1) mmj 2) l/n 3) wxs.. vbs and niigo are tied, she doesnt rlly care that much.. she also likes the virtual singers more than any of the others do, and LOVES rin, len, and meiko.. her kins are minori and honami, and her fav characters are airi and emu.. shes also a huge shipper obviously lmfao..

kokomi likes mmj and vbs.. kins saki, toya, shizuku, an, and mafuyu!! (ik thats a lot but just trust me on this) her favs are shizuku and an.. also, similarly to how kusuo feels about mafuyu, kokomi gets kinda physically ill over mafuyu and toyas characters.. she relates a little too hard to the point where she kinda avoids reading the events for a bit, but comes back to it eventually..

shun LOVES vbs and niigo.. kins tsukasa and ena!! he really wants to say he kins akito and shiho but he just wishes he was cool like them, theyre prob his favorites though.. does try to project himself onto mafuyu in his chuuni way but could not for the life of him get into her character.. he does NOT get her at all..

rifuta loves l/n, close second fav is mmj.. kins minori and rin, also kind of an.. her fav characters are saki and kohane because. pigtails. also loves rin and len. loves shizuku because she reminds her of kokomi.

[kuiinncedes]

bruh

[oldsoul007]

off script

nicholas chavez x co-star!reader

summary: nicholas and reader pull a publicity stunt to promote their new movie but maybe theres something more…

During a promotional interview for our movie, the interviewer couldn't help but notice the way Nicholas looked at me. With a curious smile, the interviewer leaned forward and said, "Nicholas, I have to ask—there's something in the way you look at y/n. It's like there's more than just acting going on here."

Nicholas glanced at me , his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. He chuckled nervously before responding, "Well, you know, we've spent a lot of time together for this movie. It's hard not to develop a certain... connection."

The interviewer raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "A connection, you say? It seems like it's more than just a professional one."

I felt her heart skip a beat as i looked at Nicholas. I could see the sincerity in his eyes. "We've become really good friends through this process," i added, trying to keep my voice steady.

Nicholas nodded, but the look he gave me spoke volumes. It was a look filled with admiration and something deeper, something that couldn't be hidden even under the bright lights of the interview set. The interviewer smiled knowingly, leaving the audience to wonder if there was more to their story than just a movie.

So of course mine and nicholas publicists had a brilliant idea to generate buzz for our upcoming movie. They decided to stage a publicity stunt, wanting us to pretend to be a couple. The plan was simple: act like they were dating, make a few public appearances together, and let the media do the rest.

Of course Cooper, was in on it and went ballistic, because he always couldn't help but tease us about how perfect we would look together.

At first, it was all fun and games. We attended premieres, had dinner dates in front of paparazzi, and even posted cute pictures on social media. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and soon, our "relationship" became the talk of the town. Fans were ecstatic, and the movie's anticipation skyrocketed.

However, as we spent more time together, something unexpected happened. The line between acting and reality began to blur. I couldn't deny the fluttering in my heart whenever Nicholas was around. We shared laughs, deep conversations, and moments that felt all too real.

Cooper, who had always shipped us, noticed the change. "You know, you two aren't just good actors," he said one evening. "I think there's something real here."

Me and Nicholas exchanged glances, both realizing that Cooper might be right. What started as a publicity stunt had turned into something much more profound. We had discovered genuine feelings for each other, and the world could see it too.

As we made our way to the quiet corner of the studio, Nicholas turns to me, his heart pounding. "Y/n, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

I nodded, my curiosity piqued. "Of course, Nic. What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, Nicholas gathered his thoughts. "During the interview, when the interviewer mentioned the way I look at you, it made me realize something important," he began, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "I've been trying to keep my feelings in check, but I can't ignore them anymore."

My eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and anticipation flickering across her face. "Nic, what are you trying to say?"

Nicholas stepped closer, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "Y/n, I want something more, Working on this movie with you, spending all this time together, it's made me see that my feelings for you are real. It's not just the characters we played; it's us."

For a moment, there was silence as I processed his words. Then, a smile slowly spread across my face, my eyes shining with emotion. "Nicholas, I’ve felt the same way, but I was afraid to say anything."

Relief and joy washed over Nicholas as he closed the distance between them, grabbing my face and pulling me in for a heated kiss. "I'm so glad you feel the same," he whispered, his voice full of emotion in between kisses.

The movie's release was a massive success, but more importantly, Nicholas and i found something truly special in each other.

[grandline-fics]

Can I just say I LOVE your writting? 'cause I do! And I'm so happy requests are open! 🥹 Here I am wondering if you can indulge little old me with a request. I went through your prompts and picked two! If you can combine them, I'd be delighted! If not, it's okay!

Here:

Jealousy fuelled kiss with the sentence:

"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?"

My request is a Fem reader and I would love to read Ace, Zoro and Law, if you don't mind! Throw in more if you'd like, I always love me some feral Kid, for instance... But whatever tickles your fancy! I just like some jealous boys! 🤭😋

Thank you again for sharing your gift! 🫶🏻❤️

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Jealousy fuelled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

WARNINGS: jealousy! but nothing else apart from that

CHARACTERS: Ace, Zoro, Law, Kid, Rob Lucci

WORDS: 3,531

A/N: Thank you for this request! I added Kid for you and also did one for Lucci because why not haha. I tried to make each scenario different and interesting and I hope you like what I came up with.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” You looked over in the mirror in front of you to see Ace appear in the doorway, arms folded and pout heavy on his lips. You let out a satisfied laugh and finished getting ready for a night out on the island the Moby Dick had just docked at. As you adjusted your outfit-the one Ace loved you in the most- you noticed how his hands twitched. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to close the distance and do exactly what he’d just confessed and ordinarily you would have let him. However tonight was different and Ace only had himself to blame. Earlier in the evening just before you’d gone to get ready you made a comment about hoping Ace wouldn’t be as flirtatious with the locals this time. He in turn responded with an idle wave of his hand and a comment that. “It’s just harmless babe, you know you’re the only one I want.”

While you knew that was true, the fact that Ace hadn’t even taken a second to consider how you felt was what annoyed you. You weren’t even asking him to stop flirting with others since it sometimes worked in the crew’s favour, you just wanted him to tone it down a little. So after that comment you’d told Ace that from now until you both returned to the ship you were both to pretend you weren’t a couple and you could also flirt with the locals too. Ace had initially grinned and shrugged, happy to play along since it was only flirting and you’d be his again when you both returned to the ship at the end of the night. His grin dropped though when you reminded him that this meant he wasn’t allowed to kiss or touch you at all.

The harsh reality of the situation hit him hard when it was less than hour had passed in the bar and he could barely concentrate on those he was talking to. Try as he might to be laid back as normal he couldn’t help but have his gaze pulled towards you every time the smallest movement occurred in your direction. You’d drawn plenty attention when you’d arrived and he’d expected it. Ace had always counted himself the luckiest man alive you have been the one you chose and jealousy was a foreign feeling to him so to feel it now was unsettling. Over and over he’d reminded himself that it didn’t mean anything. 

Then he heard you laugh and watched when the person talking to you stepped just a little closer. At the same time, the glass in his hand exploded and he looked at his hand engulfed in fire and slight scorch marks on the table. Ace rose and handed money to the barman to cover the cost of the minor damages before stepping out into the cool air to clear his head. He got as far as the fountain in the town-square and sat down, closing his eyes. “Not as easy to be on the watcher’s side is it?”

Ace turned his head sharply to see you sitting down beside him. Immediately he wasted no time in leaning forward. With his fingers pinching your chin and free hand sliding into your hair he claimed your lips, pulling you dizzyingly into one of the most intense and fiery kisses he’d ever given you. Surprised, you managed to recover and return the kiss with equal fervour while letting your boyfriend dictate the pace until you felt you couldn’t breathe. Finally you reluctantly pulled back just enough to catch your breath while Ace pressed more kisses against your jaw and throat. “Lesson learned.” He rasped against your skin, lifting his head to smirk at you. “Jealousy sucks.”

“I dunno…” you laughed, securing your hands on his shoulder and chest. “Has its uses if I get more kisses like that.”

ZORO

Zoro normally has no problem voicing his own thoughts. Someone’s being a moron? He’ll tell them to shut up and get out of his way. Someone fought fiercely and strong enough to earn his praise? He’ll do so and even make it a point to name something specific he witnessed to ensure them he is being genuine. Zoro prided himself in being upfront and unfortunately he had to call himself a fucking coward. Because he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he felt and anytime he considered it, he backed out just as fast. Instead he had to subject himself to the self-inflicted torture of being close with you but not in the way he fully wanted while also trying to convince himself that he only sees you as a friend because at the moment that’s all he can see you being with him.

“That drink say something to piss you off or something?” Zoro glanced out of the corner of his good eye to see Nami appear and lean against the railing he was also using to brace himself against. “You’ve been glaring at it instead of drinking it and I got concerned.”

“Nothin’ to bother yourself about.” He answered gruffly, forcing his gaze to look out at the lower section of the deck and sipped his drink as if to prove her worry wrong. Though now he had to look at the one thing he’d been trying to avoid; you talking and laughing with the others.

“You should just tell them how you feel already.” Nami hummed, her knowing smirk hidden by the rim of her glass. “Better do it soon too before your chance disappears.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Zoro tried to sound casual but her second remark had made him tense. “Definitely don’t know what you mean about my chance either.”

“Oh please, most of us know you have a feelings for them, we’re just shocked you never made a move yet.” Nami kept her gaze steady on the swordsman, trying to get him to finally see sense. “But now Sanji’s patience has run out. Says if you’re going to be such a coward about it all he’ll finally do what he’s wanted to for ages.”

“Hah!?” Zoro shouted a little too loudly, even drawing the attention of the group below. You looked up at Zoro curiously, watching as he abruptly looked away from the collective stare to focus on Nami with a harsh stare, turning his body slightly to face her. “What’s that shit cook think he’s planning? When the fuck did he call me a coward? I’m gonna slice his smug face off.”

“Wow…for a second there I’d think you were jealous at the thought of them actually falling for Sanji’s charm.” Zoro scoffed and rolled his eyes. The only charm the cook had in his opinion would barely fill a thimble. There was no way you’d fall for that over the top, dramatic, overused nonsense that he threw at anyone with a pulse. Would you? 

Cautiously Zoro looked down at the scene again and his face contorted in disgust to see Sanji’s arm loosely over your shoulder as the two of you laughed at something Usopp was telling the group. Feeling his stare, Sanji glanced up and smirked at Zoro, lightly squeezing your shoulder in affection to you but in also brazen challenge to Zoro. Sharply Zoro turned on his heel and walked down the small staircase, approaching you silently. You looked up at Zoro with a smile, excited that he was finally going to join you all but your smile lessened and became a look of concern to see how serious he was. You were about to ask if he was okay but he spoke first. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Immediately you got to your feet. You knew Zoro well enough to understand he was a man of few words and if he needed to speak to you in private then it was serious. Silently you followed him below deck, only stopping when he felt he was a safe enough distance away from the nosy crewmates left above. You let the seconds tick by, allowing Zoro take his time in voicing his thoughts but seeing him so tense made you worry. Gently you lay your hand on his arm in a way to reassure him that you were there. A gasp left you as Zoro turned suddenly and pulled you against him. His hand fell to your waist as he stared at your parted lips with growing hunger.

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” The words dropped from his mouth barely a whisper but he was so close each syllable lightly grazed your skin. Unable to speak you could only nod in consent and sank headlong into the kiss Zoro secured on your lips.

LAW

When Law was captivated by his research, medical procedures, and all over Captain duties, you had to take it upon yourself to keep yourself busy. Normally that was no issue when you were on the Polar Tang and had your own duties and routine to occupy your mind with. This time was different. After running into the Strawhat crew on Punk Hazard you could only sit back and watch as Law proposed an alliance with the rival crew in order to take down one of the four Emperors. You’d been taken by surprise seeing as your Captain and boyfriend didn’t tend to play well with others who weren’t on his crew. Quickly you saw him begin to regret his offer when events began to unfold and Law found himself being dragged along by Strawhat’s whims rather than his planned course of action. 

Everything had worked out in the end though and now you and Law were on the Thousand Sunny, set for Dressrosa. Even though Law wasn’t on his own ship, he quickly made himself at home in the ship’s library and began to indulge in the large collection of books now at his disposal. Knowing you wouldn’t see him anytime soon you had to explore the ship for something to catch your attention since according to the allied crew you were a guest on board and didn’t need to do chores. It went against your nature. You wanted to help and be useful so you still offered each day you were on board. “Aren’t you tired wearing that all the time?”

You turned at the sound of Nami’s voice and immediately you looked down at your boiler suit. It was your normal clothing for the Polar Tang so you really hadn’t considered wearing anything else. Plus being on another crew’s ship it made you feel more at home, unable to stop yourself from missing the others that you knew you would reunite with at some stage. Casually you shrugged and smiled at the red-haired woman. “It’s comfy.”

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer because the next thing you knew, Nami had you dragged to her room and was throwing clothes at you to try on while telling you that you were far too good looking to hide everything under so much fabric. Mostly you went along with her whims because it would be a way of taking up your unending free time on the ship. Another part of you also got drawn into how nice some of the clothes felt and looked and it was harmless fun.

Law finally dragged himself from his spot in the library and stretched out his stiff limbs. Despite his medical knowledge, he still ended up sitting in the most unwise positions that would leave his back aching and neck tensed. With a groan he made his way out onto the deck only to stagger to a halt when he saw you wearing something completely different to what he was used to you wearing but he was in no way complaining. He loved how you looked regardless but you were breathtaking. His adoration for you was suddenly soured when he saw the others fawning over you. The cook he had no issue with, but to see the sniper blushing and even the swordsman openly talking to you made him glare. Then Strawhat had to push his luck too. “You’re so great! You know you should stay on my crew!”

Law’s room activated and you were promptly swapped to now be pressed close against Law’s side. Before you could reprimand your boyfriend for being rude you were pulled below deck to the library once more and pushed against the door as it closed. You looked up at Law with widened eyes and quickened heart rate, the look in his eyes making your mouth dry and skin warm.

“It’s bad enough that I see you looking so good. I mean do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” He began lowly and you shuddered slightly. “But then I have to see them trying to get too close to you and Strawhat thinking he’s worthy of having you? Ridiculous.”

Law quickly closed the distance, using his frustration and jealousy to spur him on, kissing you passionately.

KID

Kid had no problem with people looking at you appreciatively. I mean, why wouldn’t they? Look at you. It was clear to anyone with any sense in their skulls that you were one of the hottest people about. For him to see the looks you deserved filled him with a smug sense of pride because you only had eyes for him. He was the lucky bastard that got you all to himself in the ways that it mattered. So they could take their pathetic glimpses and live with the fantasy of picturing what it was like to be with you because he got the real thing. However what he didn’t like was to watch anyone to touch you in a way that wasn’t friendly. 

On this occasion he sat in the darkened corner of a bar having to watch as you were being talked to by some drunken lech. You’d gone to the bar to collect the next round of drinks for the crew when someone approached. At first Kid had shook his head and smirked at the poor fool’s attempt to flirt but then he drew too close to you that Kid disliked. Still he knew you could handle yourself so he just had to grind his teeth and wait for you to expertly disengage yourself like you normally did. However you seemed drawn into the conversation with this man and Kid’s eyes narrowed. 

Immediately he stood with the intent on breaking things up but stopped when you quickly met his gaze. When the drunk turned his head to order another drink you had time to mouth ‘Marine’ to your boyfriend. Kid remained standing and glanced at the man warily, now seeing why you were being careful with him. Slowly he drew closer, making sure his movements were careful and silent while you kept the Marine’s attention effortlessly. Kid knew it was an act but seeing you indulge the man more made his anger grow. Just as Kid stepped behind the Marine, he drunk set his hand on your thigh and squeezed it while leaning closer to your face. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

Kid had planned to just give the bastard one quick hit to knock him out but seeing that and hearing the words spill from his mouth, he snapped. Reeling his metal arm back, he tapped the Marine on the shoulder. When he turned, his hulking fist connected with the man’s face sending him launching off his feet and slamming painfully against the bar’s wall with the impact smashing the glasses and bottles. Seeing the Marine slumped on the floor helped Kid’s pent up rage but it wasn’t enough. Quickly he grinned at you and pulled you into his arms so he could throw you over his shoulder and leave the bar, no longer in the mood to drink. You stayed happily on Kid’s broad shoulder with a growing smirk as you listened to his jealous mutterings the closer you drew to the ship. 

When you were finally set on your feet on the ship you turned in Kid’s hold that he refused to let you out of and smiled up at him expectantly. When Kid got like this you could practically time the sequence of events and this was your favourite part. Kid stooped down and with a low groan kissed you, devouring your taste and consuming your thoughts with only him while letting your magnetic presence and intoxicating touch leave him wanting more. You were the only one for him and by the morning should anyone look your way in appreciation again they’d spot some pretty marks on your neck to admire too.

LUCCI

Lucci was a master of his emotions for the most part. He could adopt a personality and live it perfectly for the purposes of a mission and then discard it when it was finished. He could keep his true nature at bay should he need it but in the freedom of Cipher Pol’s base he can just be himself. With powerful strides he walks down the corridors only to stop outside one of the training rooms in time to see you land a kick against Jabra’s stomach. Quickly he recovered and sent an attack your way. You managed to dodge it in time but Jabra caught you by surprise by sending a followup attack and knocked you to the ground, his hand at your throat to keep you pinned down.

For a moment you let your body go slack in a sign of surrender and the second you felt Jabra’s grip loosen you acted, disentangling out of his hold and attacked, taking advantage of his moment of surprise. Just as you were getting into the rhythm of the fight another agent appeared beside Lucci. “Jabra! We have a mission! Did you forget or something?”

You and Jabra paused your fight and you scowled at your sparring partner. You wouldn't have asked him to train with you had you known he would have to cut it short for a mission that he apparently knew about. Jabra briefly glanced at Lucci and quickly threw his arm around your waist before answering his mission partner. “Nah, didn’t forget. I just got a much better offer.” his wolfish grin spreading when he spotted Lucci’s eyes narrow at the comment. You however rolled your eyes and stepped out of the older agent’s hold. “We’ll pick this up when I get back, right?”

“We’ll see.” You told him dismissively which only earned you a quick wink before he left, leaving you alone in the training room with Lucci who remained leaning against the door, looking at his shoulder in disgust when Jabra had the nerve to brush past him on his exit.

“Didn’t know your standards were so low when picking a sparring partner.” He noted, watching you critically. You tilted your head at him curiously and slowly smirked. 

“I’ll be fighting degenerates and unsavoury people out in the field, I wanted someone as close to that as possible for authentic training purproses.” You explained with a light shrug. “Jabra fits that closely, don't you think?”

Lucci allowed himself a low chuckle and pushed away from the doorframe, while pulling the door closed behind him to grant you both a moment of privacy. Your relationship with Lucci was one ou both didn’t feel like putting a real label on. For now you merely enjoyed the physical and social benefits it brought. You remained still as you watched him approach, your eyes alight with interest and mischief that not even he could find himself immune to. “I can see the logic but I can smell that filthy mutt all over you.”

“Jealous?"

“I don't get jealous.” Lucci growled, his hand setting on your waist, merely a coincidence that his hand covered the precise spot Jabra had touched. Your lips twitched into a disbelieving smile and you playfully nodded, pretending to accept his claim. Lucci’s free hand reached up to skim along your throat, again pure coincidence at the placement before he curled his fingers under your jaw to coax you to tilt your head up. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now to get rid of that mutt’s stench?”

“Then do it, Chief.” You said stepping a tiny bit closer. “Let Jabra come back and know for sure that I’m a cat person.” 

With a growl Lucci kissed you possessively, hungrily with purpose of doing just as you suggested. His main goal was to wipe any lingering trace of Jabra from your skin and wipe the other man’s name from your mind. He was very aware that you didn’t see the wolf man that way but still it brought out that animalistic conflict in him, the need to be better than him and from your reactions to his kiss he knew for sure that Lucci was the clear winner.

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[darthfighter]

what do you see?

Chapter Three of Your Shadow series

warnings: tension, vulnerability, character death, angst like a mf, character development, sexual tension at the end…

summary: as qimir takes you in, he welcomes you into his home and the two of you grow closer physically and mentally (especially mentally)

word count: 3.3k

authors note: i’m gonna be so real i cooked with this chapter. i’m so proud of it, i hope you guys like this. smut in next chapter..

part two here !

Hyperspace always brings comfort to you. The quiet yet loud humming of traveling through the galaxy. Slightly feeling the force of gravity change. It’s like it’s just you in those moments. Like time doesn’t exist.

Time. Time. Time.

Time always moves forward while you look back. Your legs keep walking while your neck keeps looking back for your memories. Your neck should be sore at this point. You sat in Qimir’s ship, traveling with him and not knowing what the future held for you. You’d think that’s what you’d be thinking about, the future, but no. You thought of pristine glossy floors that reflected your every step. The Jedi temple floors. As you close your eyes and think about pacing, stomping, skipping through the massive halls, you find your comfort. The comfort that makes you feel warm inside again. Though, if you spend too much time. You get hot. Hot burning memories that scorch your head and skin. Some days at the Jedi temple, your again– hot tears would splash onto the reflective clean floors.

As if on cue Qimir comes around the corner. With your unspoken, and not so quite understood connection you have with him, you don’t doubt that he sensed your distress.

Your hand reaches your face and delicately wipes your salty tears off your undereyes while disguising your action with now scratching your eyes pulling them down to show a shade of pink beneath your white and colored eyes. The scratch burnt.

“We’ll be there soon.”

You nod. A couple silent seconds, and he takes you in with his gaze. Sucking, or lightly biting his lip. It makes your heart escalate. Qimir turns around and walks over to his kitchen, rummaging around. You stare at his build as he isn’t looking at you. The way his hair is long but not too long, his clothes and how they hug his body, his forearms with veins traveling around them like vines. He turns to grab a bowl on the other counter letting you see his side profile. He is smiling showing his unavoidable smile lines.

He knows. He knows your orbs are set on him. You look down to your hands in your lap and very loudly curse in your mind. Of course he can tell what your actions are. He’s a– well you were gonna say Jedi in your head, but he’s not. If anything, you hate to think, but he’s better than a Jedi. At least so far. He sees you the way you wish to be seen.

“Here.” You look up to him holding the bowl out for you. Relief washes over you. Your hands take the bowl without a second thought. Before even thanking him as you should in a moment like this, your hand meets the spoon and scoops up whatever is in it. You are so hungry you don’t even care to know. As you satisfyingly taste and swallow the food he gave you, he turns back to the cockpit making his way there. Your stuffed mouth is more than a thank you.

The slop in your bowl moves as you jump out of hyperspace, falling a bit more to the side.

—

You walk off the ramp of Qimir’s ship with a full stomach to be met with crashes of waves. The air smelt of salt and sea making the air damp and cold. Feeling as though moving your hand through the air could get your hand wet with all the moisture.

You slightly walked behind him, following him since this is his element. He looks back at you. The two of you look at each other, and the distance between you two is left unsaid. No words. Although with the short amount of time you’ve known Qimir, you can tell the two of you talk more with your eyes. In this moment his eyes say to follow him, and you do as such.

Shoes walking on uneven rocks, waves crash in the distance, cliffs with different ridges and textures, and comfortable silence. This island is nothing like what you grew up around. Feeling out of place is what you need. Nothing can make you feel like you're back in your child's body, besides the thought on how this can't compare to your home.

Your knees begin to use their strength with the elevated path you two began to walk on. Now walking beside the huge mountain resting on this piece of land. Eventually, you make it in front of an entry into the mountain. The uncertainty of it causes your pace to suddenly end. Your eyes inspect the entry. Though, Qimir is already halfway into the cave-like hall. Without turning around he speaks and his voice echoes against the rock walls, “Come on.”

He can read you, you thought. Why stop now?

Anxiously, you step into the hall. With each step more and more gets revealed. Before you know it you are greeted with a lair like house. There is a bed built into the mountain, a kitchenette, and a small hot spring. It’s not much, although you can’t help but find pieces of Qimir when you look around. How he made this his home. You’ve had more homes than you can care to keep track of. The only one you consider home is the one your family resided on. Home is gone.

This is home, for now.

With a full stomach means you feel satisfied and relaxed. Meaning your senses were decreased. Making Qimir’s verbal tour of his place muffled through your ears.

“Kitchen is over here. Workbench over there. I can leave if you wanna take a rinse off in the hotspring, or you can go to the shore. Over there is the-” Your body is already melted and stuck to the bed like a childlike sweet on a table in the suns. After Qimir looks at you, he finishes his sentence“-Bed.”

—

You jolt up awake. Alert. You're still here in Qimir’s home. You're not running, for once.

You’re still dressed in your poorly made disguise you put together to scout your old home, but since the climate is different, you decided to take off a sheet of cloth being your robe that rested on your shoulders. The air on this island was cold from all the crisp water, so all you needed was your thin dark green shirt, your baggy black pants, and work boots you’ve kept since one of your old jobs on a planet you forgot the name of.

Qimir was nowhere to be seen. It felt weirdly empty to be in his home without him in it. With that thought, you decided to go explore as much as you can.

Your legs wandered until you made contact with the waves meeting the shore. As you continue to wander, you find a rather comfortable spot with a large rock to rest your back against. Making contact with the rock made your back cold, sending shivers down your spine.

You were cold. Not hot. So you close your eyes, and start cold in your past.

“Master.”

“I will not hear it!” Your master's demand vibrated through the Jedi Temple training room. “Get up. And try again.”

You were sore. Countless fails. Many bruises. One weakness. Family. Early in your padawan days, you had a hard time being away from your family. Your mother and brother. They sat comfortable in your mind for your whole life, and to have the Jedi order be in your main mental chair, was a hard adjustment. Your family clouded your thoughts. To Jedi, this is a weakness. Though in their defense, you can care for your family, but to let it be in control of you, was not. In this case it was the reason behind everything to you.

Your family is the reason why you talk the way you do, the reason why you walk is because of your mother, the reason why you have compassion is because of your brother, the reason you can handle immense amounts of heat is because of your home. Where your family stays.

These thoughts cycled through your brain during training at this moment. Making you tumble to the floor.

“Again!”

“Master.. I’m tired.”

Before your master protests, she sees a bruise on your arm start to grow a darker shade. As well as a burn imprinted on your left hand from accidentally burning yourself with your own lightsaber due to your clumsiness. She puts her hands behind her back.

“Tomorrow, we resume. Let your thoughts not be clouded tomorrow.”

Now, you look down to your hand. You only see a scar. The reason for the scar not being your accident of combat, but a reminder your family will forever be on the front of your mind. Uncontrollably.

Although now it's warm. Your eyebrows frown at knowing you're not hot at your negative thoughts that aren't here, but you feel warm for another reason.

“Mind if I join you?”

Qimir stands above you. He radiates heat whenever you're around him, like he is a source of energy.

You scoot your bottom a bit to the side for him to position himself next to you, and when he does, there is barely any distance between the two of you. His bicep rests directly next to your arm as you both stare into the endless amount of waves onto the shore.

“So with what you said, before. On the roof.” You pick up a rock near you to examine as you ask Qimir your question, but he pays attention to you. Looking at you as you speak to him. “With joining you. You.. teaching me.”

He takes the rock out of your hands lightly. “What do you think it means?” He asks smoothly.

Quickly you retort “By using the dark side.” You don't even have to look at him to know he’s shaking his head. Your eyebrows frown together, trying to meet as one.

As he shakes his head he looks up to the shore as he answers you “You were molded to think that way. I'm gonna help you crack yourself out of the way the Jedi shaped you.”

You inhale through your nose to take his words in, like you needed to ingest them through your senses. Then, you grab a hold of the rock this time. Now feeling the warmth rest itself on the surface of it from both of your frictions caressing it.

“How will you make me chip away then?”

“Show you that you can do good in your own way. The natural way.”

“You think the dark side is natural?”

“I never said it’s the dark side.”

After going back and forth, he takes the rock back into his hands. This time, taking his sweet time lingering his touch on yours meaning his fingertips brushed your skin a bit longer than before. His touch burns you.

“You already are a natural at it.” You look up to him and his eyes are already set on you. He looks down to your lips for a split second and speaks again “I saw it. Yesterday on the roof.”

You don’t speak your mind at this moment. Though your mind is thinking about how right he is. You turn your neck in your mental memories, and look back at all the times you “failed” as a Jedi, but it was you just feeling the natural feelings that resided in you. Qimir seems to bring that out of you.

You agree with him as much as it is new to you to agree with such a different way of thinking than what you’re used to. It frustrates you on how it doesn’t feel wrong to agree with him.

Qimir personally hands you the rock this time, you lightly take it out of his hands. It’s warm.

He stands up to his feet and is looking down at you as he says “Tomorrow. Let your thoughts free.”

—

The next day you wake up feeling like you got the best rest since you left your childhood home. Maybe it had to do with our last conversation, you thought.

You lift up your body from the bed to see Qimir stirring a spoon in a pot. Instantly the smell of his meal hits your nose like a punch. You get up from the bed and walk over to join him. He pours out the liquid into your bowl. You reach out for it but he takes back the bowl slightly leaving your arm in the air before saying “Don't hide your thoughts today.”

“Okay.”

“Or your actions.” He leans the bowl towards you for you to grab and instantly the hot bowl meets your hands.

This was new to you. It went against everything you were taught. It was a new way of living. If anything, it felt like he was going to teach you how to breathe all over again.

After both of you finished your meals, you both silently got ready to prepare for your first day of training. If that’s what this is, you said in your brain.

You followed Qimir’s lead until he led you on the top of the mountain.

It felt and looked like you were in a dream. The fog that covered the top of the mountain like a blanket was all around you. Beyond Qimir who was about two steps in front of you, you couldn’t see beyond that. It was just you and him. As you rested from your very difficult hike up here, you breathed in and out.

Inhaling and exhaling the air, the fog traveled its way into your lungs. Now residing in you, making a sheet of fog in your insides.

Qimir then sits down in front of you. As he sits criss crossed, he looks up to you. You already know that look, so you join him.

“So how does this work exactly? Do I just tell you my darkest thoughts?” You humorly ask.

Although Qimir stays honest, “You don't have to tell me anything.”

This makes you feel comfortable, immediately.

“All I ask is for you to let your mind and body do everything for you.”

Your eyebrows frown in a question-like manner.

“When you think of anger, what do you see?”

You keep your eyes on Qimir as he asks this question. As he faces your silence, you close your eyes. You see yourself young. You’re hurt and bruised. You feel the fire in your chest as a Padawan. Being taken in to be trained as a powerful Jedi while your family is left behind. You remained homesick and it clouded your thoughts. It caused you to not perform well. Caused you to fall behind. Especially because your Master was extra hard on you. Thinking back on this, you shake your head in that moment thinking how a grown adult could be so cold to a young one like this. Qimir see’s this reaction, and asks his next question.

“When you think of fear, what do you see?”

Being taken in by the Jedi. The day you left is a memory that will always pop into your head every single day. How devastated your brother looked as you left him behind. Your mothers face is full of wet tears, and as you look at her, her eyes are nothing but red from despair. But despite her red eyes, she held a smile on her face. A smile to let you know you’ll be okay, as will they. As you boarded the ship, your knees shook below you. You walked by yourself onto the ship. Once the hatch closed, you fell to your knees. Kneecaps crashed onto the metal floor stinging you instantly. A Jedi present softly laughed at finding humor in it, but how could you, a child, find humor in being so afraid of being on your own that your legs gave out on you.

“When you think of loss, what do you see?”

The intercom. You see the hologram of a good family friend, broken apart as they tell you it’s your brother. That it is his last stretch. Surprisingly, The Jedi Council agreed to let you visit your home this one last time. It was only your third visit since becoming a Jedi. The other visits were to come back and heal your brother. Your brother was the hardest worker you knew. This brought him to his death. Working his blood, sweat, and tears wore him out. Those two times, you were lucky enough to be a medicine to him. To make him better. That third time, you weren't so lucky. Once you got to your homeplanet and landed your ship and booked it off your platform, you made it to your home. Where he laid. There was one specific thing you remember about that day, that being how cold he was. Walking up to him in your clean Jedi robes, to him in his worn out room. You began to do what you came to do. To heal. Your hand came in contact with his. In that moment, you gasped and underestimated how cold his flesh would be. Your heart stung in agony, but you needed to remain focused. You tried to heal him. You tried to make it work. You tried again. Again. You tried.

He was too far gone for saving.

Although you knew. There was a chance. A chance to revive him as you have done previously, but that meant he’d take your life. You’d give him yours. You turn around to your mom who has been hiding in the corner like a shadow. She says your name low, like a monster hiding in the dark. She disapproves. She scares you. You don't care. You grab his burning cold hand and start to use the force. You’re thrown out of your trance as you are thrown to the floor. Your mother stopped you. You rise to your feet as she throws her hands in the air, rambling to you how this was life. How life has beauty and ugliness. That this was a part of the ugly life, the life you didn’t want to face.

Your mother looks you dead in the eyes like a dagger, and tells you that this was the Jedi way. No attachments. Let it go.

You couldn't accept this. You attempt to push past her, but your emotions made you weak. You know you’re a million times stronger than your mother and can easily get her out of the way, but you couldn’t bear overestimating your powers and accidentally hurt her. So you wail like a baby instead, in her arms like the day you were born, on the day your brother died.

Your chest rose and fell at a pace that was noticeably fast, and you open your eyes to see Qimir. As you thought back on your worst painful memory, he sees you in this state. Vulnerable and hurt. Though, you see something in his eyes. You see resemblance. He’s also lost something.

You close your eyes again and with this familiarity between the two of you, you start to control your breathing. You feel the need to relax. To get warm. You think of home on the hottest days. You think of your mothers juice. You think of the excitement of finding your kyber crystal. You remember the anticipation to cut off your padawan braid. You again feel the relief of turning away from The Order. You reminisce on spending your first paycheck on blue noodles. You think of Olega, how arriving there you felt like something was there, waiting for you. You think of bumping into Qimir. You think of him seeing you as you are.

Your breaths are steady. Precise. You open your eyes.

Qimir’s eyes are set on you. With his teeth sucking in his lip.

“When you think of desire, what do you see?”

You look at him in front of you, and as he waits for you to close your eyes again. Your eyes stay open, seeing Qimir.

[crowleysgirl56]

Ok, so I wanted to do a deeper dive into this particular passage of Good Omens:

For context, this is at the climax of the book, they’re at Tadfield airbase, the horsemen have been dispensed with, Aziraphale has his body back, and Satan is about to claw his way out of the pit.

In most of the proceeding chapters involving Crowley it talks a lot about how scared Crowley is. He is very scared of Hell.

One could perhaps say maybe he is scared of them due to The Arrangement, but that is never explicitly stated. I think it has more to do with Hell is bad, and Crowley has spent the majority of the book being yelled at by some entity through the radio or TV telling him how he’s going to be in super amounts of trouble when they get their hands on him. He is just scared of what will happen. When he comes across the book shop burning he doesn’t cry for his lost friend. He curses Aziraphale, and I think it’s because the one person who may have been able to keep him safe and protected from Hell is now gone.

So when he thinks to himself (as shown in the above screen shot) that there is now nothing left for him to lose, this is why I never thought (upon reading the book the first time that is) there were any romantic feelings between him and Aziraphale. I know that technically he had already lost Aziraphale. But by this point he was back again, and back in his body. If there truly were romantic thoughts between them surely the idea of losing him again would come up.

I have read so much fanfiction, some old, some new, and what they all have in common is the detailed inner monologue of Crowley’s turmoil over his feelings for Aziraphale and how he doesn’t feel like he can act on them. In the book we get nothing of the sort, from either character. Even when they’re separated there is hardly ever any description of them thinking of the other except occasionally to frame a short reference to something. Reading the book I never got the impression that there was anything more than two ethereal beings spending time and proximity to each other and doing work for each other for no other reason than they’re essentially a bit lazy.

I think they’re only queer coded for the fact that there’s the line about Aziraphale appearing “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitric oxide”, and Crowley is, well, very Freddie Mercury coded. Them being seen as gay together and all the gay slurs in the awful racist scenes of Aziraphale body hopping about in culturally indigenous people after the bookshop fire has more to do with the very typical 80’s/90’s trope of “being gay = comedy gold”, than them actually being together romantically.

I think the reason why they were shipped so much after the publication however is for the same reason we ship so many male couples (or female couple) in modern media, why we’ve always shipped them: because of the complete and horrid lack there of, of proper queer representation.

If you’ve ever seen the magnificent Russel T Davies TV series It’s a Sin, there is a wonderful scene where the character Ash starts a job in a school library and the headmaster asks him to go through all the books and find any book that has queer love scenes so they can be removed. Ash then gives a most beautiful and impassioned speech (albeit it turns out the speech is just in his head) of how there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is nothing to the point where they are nonexistent. They are invisible. They are not seen. (Or like, something to that effect. I tell you though, it’s bloody brilliant).

So I think that’s rather the point really. You have two iconic characters, albeit supporting bit characters practically, and I think a lot of our minds automatically get drawn to wanting to put them together because of the sheer lack of queer couples. People have been doing it for years from Frodo and Sam, to Harry Potter and Draco (or Ron I guess), to Sherlock and Watson (even before the Benedict Cumberbatch show. Also as an aside let’s not get into how obsessed people got about Sherlock Holmes back in the day when those books were first published. The obsession was the reason Doyle killed the character off the in first place, then after getting letters from people telling him they were literally going to kill themselves, the reasons why he resurrected him again. Don’t tell us that modern day nerds are weird and obsessive. We’ve ALWAYS been like this).

It’s for this reason why queer representation is so god damn important. Why I still support the idea of Good Omens season 3. Because regardless of how the characters were originally intending to be represented in the book, it’s very clear now that they are so much more than “Just friends”. And we NEED that! Whether you subscribe to the idea that they will be physically intimate with each other, the fact remains is they love each other. They love each other immensely. And that comes from years of Terry Pratchett (and the other guy) accepting that canon and telling fans that it’s true. Because Michael Sheen made a choice and held a belief about how he saw his character and then David Tennant followed suit. That literally tens of thousands of fanfiction writers have decided the same.

So that’s my take. I don’t think loving each other was ever intended that way in the book, but in the last 35 years their story has morphed into the ineffable husbands that we now know.

What are your thoughts? Have I rambled on long enough to make any sense? Do you agree? Have I missed something completely obvious and gotten it all wrong? Keen to hear thoughts.

[diminuel]

I said I'd try to write a little companion piece/ continuation to my Luffy time traveling into the past to meet a young Crocodile comic!

As a warning: I know nothing about ships and since this is just a little no pressure project to try to get out of writer's block I didn’t do a lot of research. There is also a plot discrepancy because Luffy mentions Bonney and her abilities which he shouldn’t know based on the frame story I’ve given this fic *lol* Also: I don't know how to write these characters yet.

No beta, sorry for mistakes.

This is a Crocodad AU fic of course! ♥

--

Maybe This Time Part 1 (3.5k)

“Better get down from there, Luffy!” Nami called from the upper deck. “I don’t quite trust these clouds.” Luffy turned to look over his shoulder, feet dangling over the railing. Nami stood with a hand over her brow, looking up at the sky. Luffy turned back to look out at the sea and tilted his head up. The sky had a pretty green hue, nearly blending seamlessly into a dark mist rising above them. A huge dark cloud had formed ahead, casting a shadow over the sea in the distance.

“Just-“

He titled forward, lost his grip on the railing. A swooping feeling of falling tickled his stomach but before he could make a surprised sound he hit the surface of the water. It felt like he was crashing through glass.

And then it was dark.

This wasn’t the first time Luffy woke up after having been tossed into the water, but for some reason he was bone dry. And oddly thirsty.

“Thirsty,” he wheezed, sticking out his tongue to escape the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth.

A small barrel with a straw was held out to him with a curt “here.” Luffy’s attention zeroed in on the offering and he grabbed it without second-thought. A couple of deep gulps of the water later he felt a lot better already. He heaved a sigh in relief. He took the straw into his mouth again, starting a thank you as he turned towards his savior.

Startled, he sucked in water and spit it out again before he could choke on it, right into the face of someone who looked shockingly familiar.

“BABA?!” Luffy yelled. The person in front of stared at him blanky, the water dripping off his face.

Luffy stared right back. Could it be? This wasn’t Baba as he knew him, but much younger. Sure, they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months, but he couldn’t change that much, right? But who else could it be? The same hair, the same eyes, the same scar, the same unimpressed expression.

A thousand questions rampaged through Luffy’s minds. How was Baba here? Last they had talked he had been still on Buggy’s homebase. Had he saved him? Where was his crew? What kind of island was this? But one question seemed most important.

“Why are you so young?!” Luffy asked, staring at Baba who couldn’t be much older than Luffy was now.

“Huh?”

“Was it Bonney?” The confusion on Baba’s face only grew.

“Who?” he asked. Luffy stared back at him taking in the complete lack of recognition on Baba’s face.

What?

“Don’t you recognize me, Baba?!” Luffy shouted in horror. The corners of Baba’s mouth twitched and his brows drew down. At least that was a marginally more familiar expression on his face.

“My name isn’t Baba,” he insisted. “And no. Should I?” That hit Luffy like Grandpa’s fist of love.

“Yes!!” Luffy argued, feeling overwhelmed and his crew wasn’t even here to help figure this out. Robin or Jinbei would know what to do! Luffy looked at the sea. It was overcast, the sun faint, the air cool. It was most likely early morning. There wasn’t a single ship visible in the bay or beyond. No other people on this beach. He could feel tears form in his eyes.

“What is going on?” he yelled.

--

There were rules for unexpected situations that had been drilled into his head at an early age. Get yourself out of any immediate danger. Figure out where your people are and regroup. Figure out where you are. Eat. Everything else can wait until after you’ve eaten.

Maybe the importance placed on food was just the Monkey family’s way of dealing with problems, but Luffy wasn’t about to complain. The perfectly grilled meat and the little stick that was loaded with huge mushrooms helped to dampen the anxious pit in his stomach. But the moment he looked up and caught a glimpse of the person sitting across from him, tearing the meat straight off the bone in an unsettling lack of finesse, he felt like he was being dunked into sea water again.

Just what was going on here? Luffy had been travelling with his crew, enjoying that exhilarating part of adventuring where you were simply sailing, facing the challenges the sea of the New World threw at you, not yet knowing where the path would take you. And then the next thing he knew he was plunged into water, sank, blacked out.

Nothing after made any sense. Because the person that had saved him…

“You’re staring.” Luffy startled at the unsettlingly unfamiliar voice. He watched the person opposite him pick his teeth. “Do I really look like that Baba person?” Maybe a smart man would keep his mouth shut and Luffy had been raised to have at least a pinch of common sense between his ears but…

Just what was he supposed to do when a young version of his father was sitting opposite him?!

“You do,” he settled on saying, wary. Baba didn’t look particularly upset by his lack of an explanation, not even a hint of annoyance pinching his brow. And that was unusual too.

What was this? A hallucination? Someone’s devil fruit power? Actual time travel?

(And why not into the future so Luffy could at least see cool robots shooting lasers?)

“What did you say your name was?” Baba asked, genuinely curious, then he pointed at the food in Luffy’s hands. “More where that came from,” he promised. “Eat.” And wasn’t that just another strange thing? Why was he so nice to him if he didn’t even know who Luffy was? Luffy stuffed the food in his mouth, chewing morosely.

“Monkey D. Luffy. I’m going to be the pirate king,” he announced, though far more subdued than he usually was when introducing himself. Baba’s eyebrow lifted.

“There’s no such thing as a king of pirates,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Isn’t that the whole point? The freedom?” Luffy swallowed his food, tilting his head in confusion. Baba put his elbow on his knee, and propped his chin in his palm. He grinned at Luffy, the expression open and joyful, almost mischievous. “That’s why I set sail. I want to do things for myself, see what I can achieve on the Grandline!” His grin softened to an expression a lot more familiar to Luffy though he couldn’t exactly place it. “A big adventure before…,” he trailed off and sat up straight, still grinning but not sharing his thoughts.

It was strange to hear Baba talk of freedom and piracy like that. While Baba had given Ace, Sabo and him a lot of practical information on what to expect out of piracy, he almost never talked about how it used to be for him when he just starting out. Luffy didn’t know when he became a pirate, what motivated him or why he gave up that freedom for a warlord position.

He just knew that nowadays everything, even freedom, was shackled by conditions upon conditions. A thousand locks for Baba and Dad to pick before it could be achieved. Luffy had never quite understood it. Freedom was so easy to achieve if you just pushed your boat off the shore.

Maybe this Baba still trusted that freedom was always within reach.

“How old are you?” Luffy blurted out, putting aside the unease about the situation to admit a little bit of curiosity. Even if it was a hallucination or the work of a very capable impostor, he wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know everything about him.

“19,” Baba answered. “And you?”

“Uh, me too,” Luffy said, then lifted his fingers. “46 minus 19.”

“27,” Baba answered right away, chewing on a mushroom. It seems Baba hadn’t yet discovered the “don’t talk with your mouth full” rule.

“27 years?” Luffy repeated in dawning horror, touching his palms to his cheeks. “I’m 27 years in the past?!” He whined and let himself drop onto his back. He stared up at the overcast sky, partially visible through the sparse trees here so close to the shore. How was that possible?! Did they sail into some sort of mystical area of the Grandline and were now all scattered across time? Was that even possible?

Baba’s face appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the sky.

“What are you talking about?” he wanted to know, his hands in his hips as he bent down to study Luffy. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re from the future.”

“But I am!” Luffy insisted and jumped to his feet. Luckily Baba straightened quickly enough to not be hit by Luffy’s head. He grimaced, momentarily distracted by the fact that even now his father was nearly a head taller than him. He shrugged it off. “I know that there is no known devil fruit that will grant the user the ability to go back in time. But there has got to be an explanation for this!”

“Other than you being insane?” Baba offered but judged by his tone and the grin stretching his lips he was teasing, not mocking. Luffy groaned, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize that what you’re saying is improbable.”

“But it’s still true!” Baba didn’t react to his outburst. “I’ve seen a lot of so-called improbable things before! Islands with dinosaurs! Islands that fly in the sky! Islands where people turned into living toys!” Baba lifted his eyebrows at that. Luffy waved him off. “It was just Mingo, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying about it,” Baba answered, amusement evident. “But it seems like you’ve already travelled a bit. I thought you were new to the Grandline. You look like a rookie.”

“I’m not!” Luffy protested then pointed his thumb at his chest. “I’ve been on the Grandline for 2 years! I’ve got an amazing ship and the best crew in the world!” At the mention of his crew his spirits sunk like an anchor. He hoped they were okay…!

“Where were you when you got separated from your crew? You can’t have been washed ashore from that far away,” Baba asked. Luffy hummed, trying to remember. He scratched his head.

“We’d been on sea for about three weeks after Wano,” he said. “But we hadn’t come into stable climate yet, so I don’t think we were close to an island.”

“Wano,” Baba repeated. “You were in the New World?” He seemed surprised now. Was he doubting him again?

“You’re in the New World too,” Luffy shot back.

“No! We’re on Agaricus,” Baba insisted. Luffy squinted at him. Where had he heard that name before? He was sure he had heard Baba mention it. “The next big island you might have heard of is Alabasta.” Luffy hit his balled fist into his palm in recognition.

“The autumn island where you like to go mushroom hunting!” he said then the words registered. “What?! We’re in the first half of the Grandline?!” Baba looked about as shocked as Luffy felt.

“How do you know that?” he asked and it took a moment for Luffy to realize that he looked wary all of a sudden, his stance a lot less relaxed. Luffy knew that he should be able to defend himself against a 19-year-old version of his father, but he still didn’t want to test that hypothesis if Baba actually started to believe that Luffy was a threat.

“I told you! I’m from the future! I know you!” Luffy defended himself. Baba frowned at him, but his stance shifted just a bit. A soft sound at Luffy’s feet made him look down just to see tendrils of sand slip back down on the floor. He hadn’t even realized that Baba must have manipulated the sand to grab him if needed. When Luffy looked up Baba’s expression was serious, a crease between his eyebrows.

“27 years into the future,” Baba affirmed. “When you and your crew sailed the New World. As apparently I do too.” He rubbed his arms, his face uncertain for the first time. “I’m still alive in 27 years?”

“Obviously!” Luffy insisted, angry at the suggestion that Baba would not make it on the Grandline. “You’re strong!” A small grin appeared on Baba’s face.

“Yeah? So how do we know each other? Am I your captain or something?” Luffy wrinkled his nose but at the same time Baba did too. “Do I insist on everybody calling me Baba like fucking Whitebeard wants everyone to call him Pops?” Baba made a disgusted expression at that. Luffy of course knew that Baba and Whitebeard had history, but as most things of his father’s past, this was something he kept close to his chest. Sometimes his secrecy was quite annoying and it was hard to pretend not to care about what had happened, especially since the old man had meant so much to Ace.

“How can you already have a grudge against Whitebeard at 19?”

“Oh, so you don’t know everything, Monkey D. Luffy,” Baba said, his grim look dropping quickly at the supposed upper hand he fancied himself to have. Luffy wasn’t used to these quick mood changes. Still, instead of answering he grimaced. “What?”

“I don’t like when you call me by my full name. You only do that when you’re scolding me. Call me Luffy or Strawhat.”

“Strawhat?” Baba asked, laughing. Luffy pulled his hat from his back and put it onto his head demonstratively. “And you let me scold you? What am I? Your mom?” Luffy pressed his lips together, the question feeling like someone had upended a bucket of cold water onto his head. But Baba laughed in amusement as if the thought was absurd. “Am I your captain?”

For the first time a different kind of worry made a home in Luffy’s mind. He had arguably no experience in time traveling but he wondered if it was a good idea to let his father know too much. Could Luffy change the past just by being here? Could he change his own present if he messed up here?

Luffy knew that he was a “happy accident.” What if he told Baba who he was and Baba decided to be a bit more careful so that no happy accidents happened accidentally? That’d be horrible! Would Luffy just disappear?! Maybe this was the true danger of this situation!

“You’re not my captain! I’m the captain of my ship!” Luffy insisted, pride in his position winning out over the moment of panic.

“Then what’s our connection?” Crocodile asked and took a step closer to Luffy, a glint in his eyes that Luffy didn’t quite like. He didn’t have a sharp hook to hold under his nose but he had a sharp and menacing grin. “Spit it out, Strawhat.”

“I… I don’t know anything!” Luffy said through pursed lips, looking away. But other than grab him and shake him or worse (as Luffy had seen Baba do to people who annoyed him or lied to him) Baba just blinked at him. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

“I know someone who’s just as horrible as you are at lying!” he said. Luffy wrinkled his nose. Not everyone could lie professionally. “But why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because I am from the future!” Luffy insisted. “What if I say something that changes something big?! I don’t want that! I like my life! Maybe if someone sent me into this past, this is their objective?! What if they’re trying to kill me by letting me make a mistake here in the past that leads to me not being born?!”

“That seems far too much effort,” Baba said, looking Luffy up and down. “You don’t look particularly strong, Strawhat,” he said his tone annoyingly patronizing. “A stray bullet could kill you.”

“What?! I am strong! And my bounty is higher than yours!” he protested. Luffy would never have said that to his Baba’s face but this young version of him was different. “And I’m not going to tell you what it is!” Baba rolled his eyes.

“At least tell me I didn’t choose something as stupid as Baba as my name,” he said, then he moved his hand and a wave of sand spread over the fire they had roasted their food on, dousing it at once.

“I’ve always done my best to fly under the marine’s radar and it’s hard to break the habit. I haven’t really gotten my name out there yet,” Baba continued. He pointed at Luffy. “But I will! The world will soon hear of the exploits of Crocodile!” Luffy stared at him, taking in his wide, confident grin.

Baba looked impossibly young.

“Yes,” Luffy agreed, not sure why there was a lump in his throat. Baba smiled at him, then he reached out to pat Luffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” Baba turned around and started packing up the rest of the cooked meat and mushrooms. He tossed Luffy a bag, then shouldered his own. When he walked away from the camp, Luffy trailed after him.

“Where are we going?” he asked. They stepped out of the outskirts of the forest and back onto the beach. There was a small ship docking on a pier that Luffy hadn’t noticed back when he had first woken up. It wasn’t much bigger than the one Luffy had initially set out on. Far too small for a crew of more than two. Not a vessel that looked suited for the Grandline.

“You’re looking for your crew, right? And a way to get back home, wherever and whenever that might be,” Baba said and then thrust his thumb behind him, towards the ship. “So what do you say, Strawhat Luffy? Want to join me?” Luffy looked at him in surprise. Baba wasn’t exactly the kind of person to make such generous offers to strangers, at least he wasn’t today.

“Fine. But I’m captain!” Luffy said and extended his arm to grab onto the ship’s mast. He pulled himself onto the ship, Baba staring after him. Luffy sat himself down at the helm of the ship. Baba cursed to himself, then undid the rope and gave his ship a powerful shove with his foot. He turned into sand and landed on the ship next to Luffy.

“No way! This is my ship!” Luffy looked up the mast, noticing the lack of a pirate flag.

“Baba-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Crocodile, you don’t even have a pirate flag!” he said disapprovingly and for the first time Baba actually seemed embarrassed. “Does your ship have name at least?”

“Yeah, it’s the Mind Your Own Business Strawhat!” Crocodile went down into the cabin and then came back with an eternal pose. Luffy couldn’t read the name written on it. Crocodile walked to the steering wheel and then looked up at the sail. Luffy watched as sand spread from Crocodile’s body until the sails were lifted and caught the wind.

“Where are we going?” Luffy asked, inspecting the stemhead but it didn’t seem particularly comfortable to sit on. Crocodile’s ship didn’t even have a figurehead! Maybe he had a banana in his galley so Luffy could put it on the stemhead. The "Mind your Own Business Strawhat" needed least some decoration. Momentarily caught up in his musings, it took him a moment to turn back around to look up at Crocodile behind the wheel. It was strange seeing him there. He had only sailed with Crocodile on the same ship once, leaving Impel Down. He didn’t know why it seemed so strange to see him man a ship himself. He knew that his father was a pirate and yet it seemed odd to realize what that actually meant. That he hadn’t always been a warlord who tended to stay in one place or travel on marine vessels, that he hadn’t always had 2000 people under his command, that he hadn’t always been an emperor’s commander. But he looked comfortable behind the wheel, like he had never done anything else.

“Do you want to go all the way to Wano?” Luffy eventually asked and jumped up to where Crocodile was. “What about your own adventure? Don’t you want to follow the log poses and do your route around the Grandline?”

“I don’t mind making a detour,” he easily said as if it wasn’t difficult at all for him to give up his plans. “And absolutely not, I’m not going to sail into the blue like that just based on your last location in allegedly 27 years from now” Crocodile said with a scoff. “We need information.” He smiled down at the log pose. “And I might have an idea where we could get it.”

To be continued? If you find it too hard to read on here I can post it on AO3.

[late-draft]

One, two, three... a couple of moments in narrative, or all of them viewed isolated, could be called "misinterpretation" and "an incurable case of shipping goggles" but when the events start piling up and staying consistent between each other, every new one adds context to the previous events.

Zuko keeps Katara's necklace for 10 episodes? Oh it's a plot device so he can track them. Zuko steadies Katara so she doesn't fall off of the shirshu? Oh anyone would fall off of it while paralyzed. Katara jokes about giving a kiss to Zuko for the necklace? Oh she's uh... teasing Aang to whom this completely goes over head? Iroh keeps encouraging annoying love songs during music nights on the ship? Oh it's typical content for sailors. Zuko randomly recites cringe poetry after basically ending a fight in a draw against Katara while he's clearly running out of time? Oh it's the Rule of Cool. Katara randomly defends Zuko's hairstyle when Sokka insults it? She's uhh... defending Sokka's hairstyle even though Sokka didn't insult his own hairstyle (honestly I have no other explanation for this one). Katara is in Zuko's personal space 5 minutes after they started talking without being on opposing sides? She's uhh just that much empathetic. Zuko smiles at her on the very same day they let him stay near them? Uhhh... He waits an entire night awake to apologize to her? Uhh he's just a master manipulator hiding his selfish motives he's really sorry and would do this for anyone. Katara's glued to his side since their hug? Uhh she's empathetic. Zuko plants himself next to Katara during the play and won't budge? Uhh he's just socially unskilled (for now due to abuse) and does't quite understand what Aang wants from him. Zuko intercepts lightning for Katara in slow motion? It's the Rule of Cool again.

All of these things are true, but it's also true that when viewed as a whole... the narrative is portraying something. Reality is everything, the purposeful and the pointless. But theatrical stories pick and choose what to show, and we are taught how to interpret shorthands. Good writing won't have pointless or unconnected events. Neither is it smart to over-animate irrelevant actions.

And I purposefully didn't even list any of the symbolism or outside events that don't "originate" from the characters themselves (other than Iroh's actions because it's hilarious).

[ballerinarina]

𐙚LET'S TALK ABOUT... DIEGO, LILA & FIVE

Okay, firstly I need to state that I'm going to say my impressions about the season four of The Umbrella Academy, focusing on the subway plotline. My considerations are very long (I'm talkative!) and about what I watched in the episodes and what I read on social media, so, I am totally open to opinions too!!

As an hyperfocused girl, I've been thinking about the subway arc plot decision during an absurd amout of time. I watched it a few times and read a lot of opinions. Yet, I still feel a little... surprised (?) by the intense hate over it.

It's not about liking or disliking the new couple that I'm talking about. Since naturally people would prefer one ship over another, it was obviously waited that the opinions would be divided.

I just... can't understand why people hated it so much as if it was a bad plot decision. Diego and Lila are beautiful together, i agree! They have a long, real and strong love story together. But why people are acting like this new plotline erased all their relationship together? Relationships are more complex than that.

Feelings are more complex than that. Humans are.

Actually, I may say that the psychological development that happens in the subway is way more interesting because Lila and Diego love each other, as much as Five loves Diego too.

This being said, I don't mean that I think a cheating plotline is interesting because of the cheating. I actually use to dislike it a lot. However, dealing with cheating in a black-and-white way as if it's an indefendible action is not clever. Sometimes, some things I read make me realize that people are so stuck into traditional morals that their capacity of thinking and analyzing complex emotional situations is kind of... damaged.

𝐒𝐨... 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐚 𝐗 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐚 𝐗 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞?

The Umbrella Academy is known as a series with very human and complex characters. That's what makes it so good, from the beginning! That's why I think it's kind of sad to judge their relationship with a typical moral view.

Claiming that Lila didn't deserve Diego, for example is so... so sad. She was an amazing mother and wife. She tried to go back to them for six years and as soon as she could she went back! Not even thinking twice! She loves Diego, of course she does!

Loving Five doesn't make her love for Diego less strong.

I really don't think Lila X Five is just neediness, however, no way. They already spent two seasons constructing a beautiful (friend) relationship before and in this horrible context they spent a lot of time taking care of each other, being each other's support. Considering this and their communication development — jokes on season 3, kindness in the beginning of season 4 — it's not surprising or nonsense that it turned to become romantic. People and relationships change, love is built and adapted.

I don't think Lila stopped loving Diego (i mean romantically, but even if she did, she surely didn't in other ways of loving that are as beautiful as it is) but that doesn't make her love for Five false, and Five loving and having a relationship with her doesn't make him a bad brother either. That's why I emphasized that TUA is a series with complex relationships. Why do you get upset and surprised when another relationship between complicated characters is built due to the tragedies of the script?

If this didn't cause outrage before, could it cause because, this time, when things get complicated, the plot resource used questions the standard romantic drama format expected by the system?

𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭? 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫?

I guess one of the main arguments I saw was that their relationship didn't make any sense and that their scenes were extremely out of character, but I don't think it could be sustained when they both are characters who go through a lot that makes them change, alone or together. What they're claiming being out of character may simply be character development under non-ideal circumstances.

It seems like there's an strong resistance to open their minds while watching and realize that love isn't something that can only happen once and/or once at a time and under ideal situations. Diego and Lila's marriage crisis, Five and Lila developing ther friendship inbetween work cumplicity, Five looking more lost and tired in his decisions than before, the fact that it is the second time he has been trapped in space-time — which is a big trauma for him, since, from the first season (in the first apocalypse) we have been shown that, despite being introverted, arrogant and reserved, it is precisely "relating" that serves as a point of refuge for Five not to go crazy, lowering his guard and being kind...

All of this constructs very well their psychological coherency. "He wouldn't treat her like that during season 2 or 3!", "Lila would never be a domestic mother/ Five wouldn't work do CIA!". Well, we're talking about them now, not there.

One of the plot decisions to start this season was that the characters were living between what they kind-of-desired, but things still weren't fine, they still weren't getting what they wanted.

Five being free from the world-ending, but stll not being able to relax and live a simple retired life as he wanted. Klaus being sober and free of the ghosts, but insecure and anxious. Allison having Claire and Ray, but still unable to live a happy marriage and career. Viktor having his place working with something that makes him comfortable, but still unable to find love. Diego and Lila having a family and marriage and still unable to feel happy because the domestic work dynamic wasn't working...

Adulthood. Real life. None of those situations were out of character, as much as none of the psychological changes they suffered were too.

𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦

Since I don't really see the point on why would all of the happenings between them three could be claimed as "nonsense", even less "unasked" or "unnecessary" — because it's a work of fiction and, even if it may not be what the public wants to watch, it is not something that needs to prove its usefulness, just as events (that tie together well, because coherency matters) do not need to prove their necessity in art —, so it makes me even more sad that clearly mostly of the reactions are based on conservative views of marriage.

I know this season is not perfect, and it had a lot of defects, so I'm not saying the arc is perfect. As all the other arcs, it happened in a hurry, making us the public less abl to feel the 7 years of development. Complaining about how the arc was executed is perfectly fine, actually: after all, we know that 4 episodes were cut from the original script, as were many recorded scenes (including a big part of the subway plotline).

AIDAN: "There's a lot of the relationship with Lila that we filmes but they cut it. It took weeks to film it and they used a few minutes in a montage. That wasn't right. It also made very hard for the viewers to believe when we spent weeks filming scenes to set up that scenario."

But when I bring the conservatism theme (misoginy and remnants/consequences of the monogamous religious structure), it's because, even if we have lots of other of worse defects on other parts of the season, the biggest public overreacting opinions have been undoubtly about Five and Lila.

Anyone who spends more than 2 minutes in the comments on Twitter, Tiktok or even here knows that most of the time people've been sad and angry treating them both as if they were turned into cheaters with no morals (Five as a new kind of scroundrel asshole, Lila as some kind of ungrateful whore and I've even seen people problematizing their enemies phase, or the age difference as if one of then, or even the director, were predators, which is pure nonsense) and I can't even express how it makes me deeply melancholic.

I can't see how reacting as if the situations they were put in and their actions toward it in the scripts were absurd, terrible and dumb can't be just conservative, because they were actually very well tied script decisions, used in a bold way. With an interesting and well written enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers trope, they managed to write something fun and that developed both of the characters in their early-season-conflicts-arising-from-other-seasons.

𝐒𝐨? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐂𝐞𝐂𝐞?

I truly just... Can't understand how some people ended up having collectively such insensitive opinions about the relationship of two characters who were so... vulnerable.

Non-ironically I even saw a lot of people defending they would prefer Five to end up with a “real life Dolores” plotline (since the author felt the need of a romance) than with Lila, or that he shouldn't ever fall in love with anyone else than Dolores. It sounds so... Insane. I can't see how someone can have any kind of shipping-affection for his "sick" relationship with Dolores. It was, for me, a completely heartbroken arc.

While watching this new season, actually, it made me almost warmly happy, as a Five fan, to see him having someone to take care of him in hard times like that. Last time he didn't have it. They loved each other, they constructed this love and even if it was constructed under a refuge, extremely vulnerable situation, as much as even if it was constructed over a hopeless and trust-breaking decision towards their loved Diego, it doesn't make it less real and beautiful.

They aren't bad people. They aren't cheaters. They were desperate.

I'm happy they found love in each other. They were victims but managed to construct a beautiful relationship to survive and it doesn't make them love less Diego, as a brother or as a lover.

Of course it breaks completely my heart that Diego and Five died without making peace, but while watching not even for a moment I considered that they stopped loving each other. They're brothers, they've went through a lot.

They were doing so fine getting along together since they came back from the apocalypse.... There's no way it would "destroy" and "erase" (terms used by some fans) all the progress that's been made... I think it would be a very shallow interpretation of their relationship and a very futile interpretation of the events. Some of the public is seeing the situation as if Five slept with his wife since the beginning, not as if he had felt in love with her in a very apocaliptical and hopeless situation.

It's essential to remember that nothing said romantic happened for six years. It turned this way only after they having practically given up hope of returning home, so exhausted they were.

I really don't think that such a desperate and lonely situation would erase all the love and dedication Diego have for Five (and Five has no reasons to stop feeling it for Diego too, obviously). Diego was totally the sweetest during this season, he did his best, but Five did too... Now they fought but it doesn't mean their relationship would be forever broken. They were both stressed out, of course, it was a sensitive situation. But, i don't think it would... However with an apocalypse going on, they just didn't have enough time.

Diego was clearly open to understand Lila better, so I really doubt he wouldn't try to do the same with Five. But, again, they were both heart broken, hot headed and with no time. It's sad and it affect them, but "destroy and erase" are very heavy terms and inconsistent with the context of their relationships.

I don't know. I don't know how to conclude this analysis. I just… Am sorry. I honestly feel lucky to have been able to experience Diego, Lila and Five, but I'm so sorry that I couldn't see these three hearts find peace in their complicated loves, even during their final moments. These are three very beautiful love relationships that grew up tangled up and that, unfortunately, couldn't unfold in time to hurt less their lovers.

It felt wonderful and desolate. I hope more people can feel it like i did.

[bowieandqueen11]

Preening Peacocks / Sanji Imagine

Request: could you write a sanji x reader fic of zeff sitting the two of them down and basically saying that if they don't stop making heart eyes at each other he's going to have to separate them because it's getting in the way of work. cue them both promising to act more professional only to end up making out after the kitchen is closed. reader tries to protest because they should be going to bed but ends up giving in when sanji kisses her along the neck.

Ooooh this is both sweet and spicy, the perfect combination! ;)

Warning: slightly NSFW so 18+ please, a little strong language!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @leonerdnimoy.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

How Zeff hadn't lost his mind over the last ten years, he would never know.

He knew, of course. That you had a shared history - a shared past, a shared ordeal that he couldn't even begin to understand. Neither of you chose to talk about it much, the shared glances you shot each other as you shrugged off your past and chose, fought, clawed for tooth and nail, to create a new life for yourself out here in the Sambas Region was something he respected. Admired, even. The two of you shared a past, true, but starting over was a commonality the former Cook Pirate could stoutly understand.

He knows that he should go easier on the pair of you, too. He knew what he had signed up for, when he met you both storming onto the Orbit all those years ago; when he had saved your shivering, despondent lives up on that desolate crag. The two of you had always been close: inseparable, even, from huddling together day in and day out on that rock, to sharing a room and cooking side by side on the Baratie. He knew the two of you, in some ways, better than he knew himself: recognised the signs of yearning, of perpetual adoration from day one. And yet he still found himself two teaspoon clatters away from yanking the hair off of his face when yet another customer comes strutting up to him, demanding compensation for an abysmal lack of service.

'Get your arses in here- now!'

It took you a few seconds to register the voice thundering out from the impact door, too busy trying to fan your face with one of the carded menus you were trying to stack away; Sanji, on the other hand, heard Zeff just fine. He was too preoccupied, absentmindedly placing a few empty champagne flutes onto his tray, while stealing glances in your direction. If his eyelids fluttered any harder, the candlesticks on table twelve would go out in a blazing blast.

Zeff jabbed his thumb in Sanji's direction and then back towards the inside of the kitchen, anger creasing the already wrinkled lines of his forehead like mettled waves in a storm. Realising he couldn't ignore the old sod's words any longer, Sanji sauntered up behind you and pressed his chest against your back. 'I think he's talking to us, sweetheart', he breathed against the shell of your ear, sending goose bumps shooting down your neck as his slender fingers reached round to fall delicately over your own. With a nudge of his nose against the back of your head, he intertwined your fingers and led you towards the back of the room. His free arm settled comfortably around your waist, his eyes staying so squarely on your gaze that he almost tripped over the poor old couple from table two, who were staggering up to collect their coats.

Zeff's groan could be heard out on the ships docked in the Baratie's port, even through the slatted fingers that were covering his drooping face.

As soon as the two of you had plonked down on a couple of seats near the kitchen's 'office' table, Zeff pounced on the two of you like a ravished vulture.

'Look', he stamped over, one hand on the side of his hip and the other still holding the spoon he had been whisking up a fresh batch of meringue with. 'I don't care what the two of you get up to during your free time. In fact, if it's anything worse than what you've already been spotted doing on the floor, I don't want to know.' Sanji guffawed, settling his thighs down further into his seat.

'But the two of you are starting to cause trouble for the business', Zeff continued with a earnest glare in Sanji's direction, his words aimed directly at the sous chef. 'For my business.'

'Our business', Sanji retorted, chewing the inside of his cheek and pointing with a circling finger between the three of you.

'In my restaurant.' Zeff leant forward, his nostrils flaring in a manner that you know meant trouble, but to your surprise Sanji dropped the issue; he grinded his teeth, but chose instead to grip onto your hand underneath the table and hold it against his knee. He knew what he owed Zeff. If not for saving his own life, than, more importantly, for saving yours.

'Even our patrons are starting to relay back to me that you, little donkey-', he jabbed the whipped edge of his wooden spoon straight towards your chest, 'and you, little eggplant-', the spoon gets whisked with a firm buttered splat against Sanji's cheek, 'are flaunting around each other, front of house no less, like two preening peacocks!'

Sanji tilted his head in your direction, doing his best to not further anger the already irate chef by pretending he is not very subtly dropping his eyeline down past the bridge of your nose and landing on your cupid's bow.

The side of your irises met his, and he goes breathless.

To no one's surprise, the flirtation doesn't go over Zeff's head, no matter how hard he's rubbing it. With his pointer and middle finger rubbing his temples and half-covering the rimosed dark-circles under his eyes, Sanji took the opportunity to lean over the arm of your chair and leave a sweet kiss against your cheek with puckered lips. You could feel his smile as he pulled away, and in retaliation you pulled your intertwined fingers up to your lips and peppered a few kisses against his knuckles, clasping it against your chin in a tight lock.

He takes it as a challenge: who can shower the other in more affection, and the soft brushes of his nose against the tip of your own is only interrupted by the slam of Zeff's spoon planking down on the table.

'I've had to deal with this for near twenty years now, and I swear-'

'We're not even twenty, Zeff', you chimed in, attention still fully centred on the dazed look clouding Sanji's lovestruck face as he hovered in front of you, nearly out of his chair by the point and falling onto your lap.

'Yeah, stop being dramatic old man.'

Sanji's words are chiding, but the way he watched you - god, the way he always watches you, the way he spends his whole life helplessly contemplating you is so soft. So serene. So overwhelming. Even though his eyes have lidded, falling down to peer almost lasciviously at the seam of your mouth, his distracted eyes are still so filled with wonder. Whether he had been five years old, locked up inside his father's dank, damp old dungeon, wasting away in the corner as the whole of his kingdom celebrated his death. When you had come, slamming the lock open with a stone you had spent a full half an hour tugging out of the circular cobbled wall, he had clambered into your lap and shoved his face straight into your neck. He had refused to move, only interrupting his desperate sniffles by alternating clenching his tiny fists into your shirt, and tilting his head to the side so he could look up at the side of your face with a childlike bewilderment. That first streak of light brightening in his enamoured eyes.

Whether he had been nine years old, laying his head on your lap and waiting anxiously for the sun to bleach his bones up on that rock, he had still looked at you wonder. Had looked up at you as if you reflected all the pockets of starlight in the universe and stored them in his eyes, and he had been ready there and then to decay, as long as he could be weaved within your atoms for all eternity.

Whether he had been nineteen, sitting next to you at the Baratie's kitchen table with all the cosmos now in his eyes, and so, so deliriously in love with you.

'I mean it,' Zeff huffed, head seesawing between the two of you (which wasn't too far, since your faces were resting roughly one inch apart.). 'One more googly eyes look at each other, and you're both scrubbing barnacles off the dock for the next month.'

'That's alright with me old man, as long as we can share a plank seat.' Sanji winked teasingly in your direction, and you're not sure whose face turns more rubescent: your flushing cheeks, or Zeff's ruddy ears as steam starts pouring out of them in rolls.

'Table seven's still waiting for their appetisers. Go. Now. While the two of you are still teetering on my more charitable side.'

~

The rest of the service goes past in a flash. The sound of your chopping from the far corner of the kitchen is met only with the sound of Sanji's intent whisking from the other, and the occasional 'oi, stop that', from Zeff when he comes marching through and spots you and Sanji eyeing each other up over your respective bowls.

Sanji had to stop looking over at you. If you met his earnest side-eye one more time before you got off for the night, trying to look away from how furiously Zeff's moustache was swinging with each steaming word he muttered out during the rest of the service, you were going to collapse onto the kitchen floor in a fit of giggles.

Evidently, Sanji seemed to be having a similar thought, albeit with one exception: he was making it his life's mission to try and get you to break. That mischievous spirit - that light heartedness and ability to face trouble head on and grin in it's face was exactly the thing that had saved him all those years ago in the Germa Kingdom, back when he was a child. It was one of the things, still, from a list that could reach the bottom of the ocean floor and continue down to the core of the world, that he found endearing about you.

He wanted to hear the sound of your laughter for the rest of his life, for it was the most blissful sound in the world to his eager heart.

He made it his mission to try and distract you: with a flick of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, pretending it was a subconscious action, he let his biceps strain through his dress shirt with the force of his chopping. By the sound of his breathy moans every time he lifted up his sautéing pan to his nose to smell the fresh sprigs of rosemary intermingle with the diced potatoes, you could tell he was toying for your attention.

With the last few orders starting to roll in from the dispersing crowd of diners, Sanji braved out across the kitchen to 'accidentally' bump into you at the sinks. As his hip snapped against yours, he leaned his elbow up on the counter and turned his body fully towards you, until the the front of his apron was shoved up against your belly button and he could go no further. Leaning over you, he pressed the jut of his chin into the top of your head and looked towards the door to make sure the coast was clear.

'You know, sweetheart, if he heard the name you were calling me up in our room last night I swear we could make his stupid moustache fly clean off.'

The corners of your eyes were still tearing up by the time you made it back to your chopping station; the other chefs side-eyed you with merry-meant distaste each time your knife slipped over the outer peel of your garlic as your stomach doubled over in laughter.

You might have made it - you really might have, if you hadn't been able to hear the sweet little huffs emitting from Sanji's side of the kitchen at the same time. Sanji bit his bottom lip and ducked his head back down towards his trout, focusing on his skilful descaling to try and hide his laughter.

The next time he waltzes by with a white chocolate panna cotta, he grazes his hip and elbow in a way that was both a little too tantalisingly close to your side, and creates the perfect opportunity for you to latch onto his elbow and pull him down behind the counter.

'Why are we crouching sweetheart?' He was desperately trying to stifle his smile by catching his teeth against the side of his bottom lip, but he couldn't help the way the corners twitched up at the sight of how flustered you were.

'Because if Zeff catches us again, he'll feed us to the fishes Sanji!'

'Well, it's a good thing that was my last dessert for the night, isn't it my cherie? Because I'm also on clean up duty, and I've just signed you up for it as well.'

Before you could stop him, Sanji has jumped up and is already waltzing back out into the middle of the kitchen.

'Oi, Patty! What do you think you're doing! Y/n and I are on clean up duty tonight, you know - on account of-'

'The two of you being insufferable. Yeah, what's new.' The poor cook just shakes his head and turns his attention back to scouring the grease out of his saucepan.

'Come on', Sanji holds out his arms wide', 'don't you want to help true love's wings blossom? Or at least get some well deserved sleep - tell me the truth, when was the last time you worked less than double shifts. Zeff's wringing you out to dry, and you know it.'

'I don't think so, kid.' Patty's shoulders droop, but he thumps the last few suds out of his pan and hangs it back up on its hook. 'Chef's already warned us about you two, and he's not adding my head to the pile.'

'I don't get it', pipes up the latest addition to the Baratie chef team - a straggler pirate, who had tried his luck sneaking out the door without paying his bill, and had soon found his face sliding across the tile when Zeff's wooden leg had knocked him flying. He shakes out his hands and dries them off with a tea towel, before snorting and rubbing his nose with the linen. 'Why doesn't the guy just split these idiots up?'

'Because the last time he tried it, troublemaker here spilled a fresh pot of béarnaise sauce all over his apron and half of the floor.' Patty's tone is austere, but even as he wipes off the last bits of water from the steel edges of his counter's sink, he can't help but let a fond smile escape across his face. 'Before Zeff could even finish kicking him out, he was already through the door. Poor Chef nearly threw a fit when he went out twenty minutes later to find him, and he was sitting coddling on Y/n's lap behind the bar.'

'Yeah yeah yeah', Sanji laughs, sauntering over to the light switches behind the apron rack and knocking them off with an ostentatious throw of his arm. 'Goodnight, everyone!'

Patty sighs, but obliges. 'If Chef catches you, you're on your own', the man threatens with raised eyebrows as he walks out of the door Sanji props open with the toe of his shoe, but your boyfriend just shrugs light-heartedly.

'Subtle, by the way.'

Sanji pats the man's shoulder and grins. 'I can't help it if three's a crowd now, can I?'

As soon as the door sweeps to a close, your boyfriend's almost flown across the room to spin you around in his arms, your toes barely gracing the floor as he flings you about.

'Finally! Alone at last my love! Do you understand-', he interrupts himself with a kissing peck against your lips, 'how hard-, and another, 'it is to not kiss you every second of service?? I swear, it's torture!' From anyone else the sentiment may have sounded churlishly facetious, but from Sanji the words were so sincere that it almost made your heart melt into a pool of butter by his feet.

'Sanji, we really should get to bed. If Zeff catches us, we're going to be sent out on restroom attendant duty again', you groan, doing your best but hardly succeeding in trying to unlatch Sanji's ravishing hands from off your sides. Instead, his arms wrap tightly around your spine and his palms flatten against your back as he holds you against his thuddering heart.

'My precious life, from what I can remember, you got us back onto the main floor pretty quickly.' His lips land heavily on the top of your head, and you can't help the coarse shockwave of pleasure that floods through your body at the feel. Languidly, he allows his lips to slip down your forehead, softly tilting your head back so he can sweetly lick a wet trail down the side of your cheek.

'That's because Zeff got tired of arguing with me', you huff out, but you don't complain when you feel Sanji's hands roam down to cup the joints between your upper thighs and buttocks. With a hoarse pant against the side of your chin, his fingers dig into the meat and pull your legs up to his waist. You oblige, and allow him to pick you up and delicately place you back down on the sink counter.

'See, no problem!', his lips twitch as he walks between your opening legs, settling himself firmly against your groin as you wrap your ankles in a cross behind his legs. You nip playfully at his earlobe, and he swears he's about to pass out.

With short, panted breaths, he manages to finish his thought. 'Besides, that's why he calls you little donkey, isn't it? Because you always kick back.' His lips ghost a chuckle over the pulse point throbbing on your neck, and you have to do your best to clench your thighs together to stop yourself from whimpering.

'Is this alright, sweetheart?', he asks breathlessly, swiping the flat tip of his tongue out against a sensitive spot, one he knows lies right above your collar bone.

'God- yes', you reply, gripping some curls by the nape of his neck and tugging. 'I've been waiting to do this all bloody day.' He whines, his lips reverberating the sound so its muffled against the side of your neck.

That won't do. That won't do at all. You want to hear all the pretty sounds Sanji can make. Want to make him feel as loved: as wanted, as revered as he's made you feel your whole life.

In reprisal, you snake your hand down, making sure to capture his whimpers with your open, awaiting mouth as your fingers scratch over the taut muscles of his abdomen. When you finally reach down to cup the growing pressure straining against his trousers, he bucks forward against you and nearly knocks your teeth out.

His whimpers are drowned out by muttered, fervent, worried apologies, but you only giggle and silence him with a supplicating kiss.

'But we really should stop and go to bed, Sanj. We make enough trouble around here as it is.' You say the words, but you don't really mean them. Not when you can feel the tip of his finger run slowly... slowly... god! So agonisingly slowly up your inner thigh as he folds the bend of your ear over with a crushing kiss, his lips falling open clumsily as his inner mouth drags plumply across your temple, before running down to suck at your neck.

'Stop? I can barely stop thinking about you, every waking and sleeping second of my day. But if you want to stop, I will my sweet. I'd do anything in the world for you.'

You cup his face with your hands, and with a smile bring him down so you can rest the side of your cheek against his own burning one. He can feel his chest flittering at the feel of your stretching smile burning against his skin: at the feel of your legs tightening their vice around his thighs until he had stumbled forward, body fully resting atop your own now.

'Don't you dare stop now', you giggle. 'I kind of want to see Zeff's mustache fly off, now that I think about it.'

The sound of your and Sanji's roaring laughter is interrupted by the crash of the swing door against the wall, and the looming shadow of the Head Chef trembling up the rocking ceiling.

'Right, forget scraping barnacles. The two of you are going to be swimming with them in a minute!'

[actualhumantrashcan]

I can understand a silly workplace comedy about pirates not being everyone’s jam but I really can’t understand the amount of queer people I see hating on ofmd.

like for one thing most of the debates turn into gatekeeping queerness (which I think has a lot more to do with the ages of the main couples than actual concerns about authentic representation but that’s another post) and the rest are just hateful because it doesn’t directly name or label it’s queer characters but like why do we need that at this point?? listen I love heartstopper with all my heart but it is exhausting to watch them explain queer identities sometimes (even though I do think it’s super useful for younger audiences I’m just not the target demographic!) and ofmd is an explicit, violent, adult show that doesn’t NEED to explain it’s character’s identities.

queer people past their 30’s are usually very well aware of their queerness and have had (hopefully) plenty of time to go through the arc of discovering that. so why would we need to see Stede or Lucius or Ed going through turmoil because they’re attracted to men when they have already come to terms with that at this point in their lives?? i for one find it so fucking refreshing to watch a show where the characters being queer is not their main arc, they just ARE queer and life is still happening to and around them. maybe that’s just the millennial gay in me talking, but it gets emotionally exhaustive to watch show after show where the queer character’s arc is overcoming homophobia. yes obviously homophobia still exists and yes obviously if ofmd was trying to be historically accurate these characters would be living in a very dangerous time to be queer but it isn’t trying to be accurate!! it’s trying to be fun and diverse and kind!!

and also, they aren’t pretending homophobia doesn’t exist!! it’s just addressed in a different way. Stede was emotionally abused by his father for his entire life for being “soft” and then was chased down by his homophobic childhood bullies, one of which explicitly told him that he “defiled” the great pirate Blackbeard by simply falling in love with the man behind that name. Meanwhile Ed was forced into the world of piracy at a young age and developed the entire persona of Blackbeard (who fits the toxic, violent masculine stereotype of the time) to hide the fact that he’s actually an incredibly sensitive and deeply queer man! and is told multiple times by male figures in his life that sex with other men is fine but it is absolutely unacceptable to be in love with a man. both of their arcs contain homophobic rhetoric that is still present in society today, but its never presented as a problem that they have to wrestle with. they don’t have to come to terms with what it means to love each other, they just have to overcome some trials that go along with the complicated lives they both lead as a pirate and former aristocrat. the homophobia in ofmd is woven into the backstory of each and every character, it shapes them into the people they are at the beginning of the show when all of their walls are up and they are performing the “pirate” roles they are supposed to play. and then we get to see them grow and realize that they are in a safe space, part of a community not just on the ship itself but in the life of piracy (which in the show is pretty much explicitly an allegory for queer lifestyles.)

anyway, I could rant about this all day but just truly why do we have to tear people down for enjoying something? why do we have to find reasons to hate something so obviously created with sensitivity to it’s queer audience and with so much queer joy? if historically inaccurate gay pirates going on silly adventures and falling in love are not your thing, fine! but perhaps just let people enjoy things and find your own things to enjoy.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking someone not to make my art about a ship I hate?

This happened a couple months ago, but I’m still kinda unsure if I handled it correctly.

Basic rundown of events: I posted some art of a character on their own in the evening, and when I woke up the next morning, someone had reblogged with an addition about a ship that’s a big notp for me. I messaged them to ask they delete it as politely as possible, because people had been interacting with that version of the post specifically and it made me uncomfortable. They responded by saying I was being immature and needed to learn not to police what other people do on the internet. We exchanged a couple more messages, and I tried to explain my position my throughly. Neither of us was overtly hostile or anything, but I felt extremely talked down to by their tone of voice. After our conversation, we both blocked each other, and that was that. They never did delete their addition.

Why I think I might be TA: we weren’t exactly friends or anything. Neither of us followed each other. I’d seen them around in the fandom, and they’d reblogged some of my art in the past, but I think messaging someone I didn’t know instead of just blocking them might have been a bit of an overreach. Plus the ship in question is canon, and not particularly controversial or anything, so most people in the fandom probably wouldn’t have minded.

On the other hand, the ship being so unavoidable is a big part of the reason it upset me so much. It’s hard for me to exist in this fandom without having to see it constantly, and I don’t even ever mention the other character in it for fear of this exact thing happening. I’ve had people be assholes on my posts about the ship I prefer, or go out of their way to interpret my romantic posts about them platonically, or add tags to my art about how they only like my ship as backstory and not endgame. I don’t want to have to put a disclaimer every single time I post about this fandom. I just want to enjoy the things I like without being negative all the time. Which is why I figured messaging privately was more polite than making a stink where everyone could see. I specifically mentioned that I knew they wouldn’t have known and wasn’t mad.

No one actually ended up reblogging their addition, which is also a strike against me, but I got a lot of likes on specifically that version of the post, which made me scared they were going to. I hated the idea of having to turn off reblogs on a piece I’d worked pretty fucking hard on because a version I found so upsetting was in circulation. If it was just tags, I’d have blocked, but it being an addition is different. I don’t think asking people not to make my posts about it is “policing what other people do on the internet”. You’re in MY house, on MY post with MY art I spent hours on. Making additions to art posts already seems somewhat rude to me, that’s just not something you do, but I guess that’s a matter of the corner of tumblr culture you’re used it.

Also, their response felt very aggressive and condescending. They implied I was, like, a kid, and I do think I’m somewhat younger than them, but the only information about my age in my bio at the time was that I’m an adult, so it felt like a rude assumption. My age doesn’t have anything to do with it.

Again, though, I do absolutely see how my initial message could read as entitled. During the rest of our messaging, I did lose my temper a little bit at one point; I said something about how I’ve had to deal with shit in this fandom before, and I don’t remember the exact words since, again, we both blocked each other, but I know I swore at them. That might’ve come across as more aggressive than I wanted, and probably didn’t exactly help deescalate. (Can’t say for sure, I don’t have their side of the story)

Like I said, this situation was a bit ago now, but it upset me pretty bad at the time, and I’m still not entirely sure who’s in the wrong. So, AITA?

(Also to get ahead of this: please don’t make this about shipcourse in the comments. It’s not about that. They and I have similar opinions on that discourse from what I’ve gathered anyway. Thanks.)

What are these acronyms?

[pippin-katz]

“We knew that if Taylor and Nick didn’t feel safe, we would never have gotten that scene out of them.”

I've reread this interview a couple times, and the last sentence hit me differently. My entire chest expanded. I’ve been blabbering on and on about Taylor and Nicholas having to do intimate choreography, and it still blows me away that they did, but that comment is so sweet.

They felt safe. They felt safe with each other. They felt safe with Matthew and Robbie. They were able to perform the most beautiful and romantic sex scene I’ve ever witnessed because they felt safe.

I can't stress the use of the word "safe" enough.

It's impossible to know what they were thinking while filming, but I can imagine that they occasionally got those instinctive nerves, but they were able to keep filming because they trusted each other that much. They could think to themselves: "he's got me".

That is the sweetest, most wholesome thing ever.

Nicholas and Taylor are such close friends and care so much about each other that they're able to do this kind of scene. They know the other would never do anything to make them uncomfortable. They have to be completely vulnerable, but they're okay with that because they trust each other that much. That is such an incredible friendship, and a truly special bond.

It also occurred to me that that trust and safety they felt is probably part of why it feels as intimate as it does. The point of the scene is to show how far Alex and Henry have come in their relationship that they trust each other to do that.

Henry’s unable to “belong to someone else” except for a moment, and he has fallen so in love and trusts Alex so much to give himself to him in literally the most intimate way possible, even if it’s temporary. Alex has never done any of this before, considering he hadn’t truly considered his bisexuality before Henry, and obviously hasn’t had this kind of sex, but he feels comfortable enough with Henry to tell him that he’s nervous and trusts Henry will make sure everything goes right. I mean Henry literally says “trust me, you’re in good hands”, and Alex does.

Trust and safety is literally part of the characters' journeys in that scene. Nick and Taylor's real life trust in each other can provide a genuine base to build off of for Alex and Henry's.

God I wish they could do interviews, I want to hear them talk about it more (if they’re willing). They talked about it somewhat in the pre-conducted interviews, but not to the extent Matthew is in this. Obviously they don’t have to if they’re not comfortable sharing though.

I think this makes me feel so much because I'm personally demisexual and demiromantic, so emotional bonds are very important to me, in general. It's my heart's desire to find someone to love and trust that much, platonically and/or romantically.

PS: Just to be absolutely clear, this is not about shipping Nick and Taylor!! I'm just gushing about their bond with each other! I'm not trying to imply they are romantically involved in any way!

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[izzyhandslightofmylife]

Official statement on why Izzy's death affected me so much

Our Flag Means Death, is, at it’s core, is a show that focuses on queer joy- a form of therapy for those that have been raised on queerbaiting, shipping minor side characters, or watching, when nothing else is available, queer tragedies. You know how it goes- the two main characters, both male, have chemistry. They say things to each other that seem weirdly like declarations of love. They look at each other with love in their eyes. You see these things and the main man gets married off to a badly written, unfinished female character and is left feeling empty. The best friend dies for the main character to live. When everyone talks about how cute the main couple are, you want to scream all of a sudden, because nobody can see this love story play out except you. It’s queer, it’s tragic, and nobody else can understand it. 

Not Our Flag Means Death. From the moment it aired, it was praised as a show with unabashed queer joy, which means more than I can possibly say. The two main male characters meet, they have chemistry, and they fall in love. It’s not implied, or hinted at, but blatantly obvious. Their romances and the queer romances around them attracted so many queer fans who felt that after so many years, this type of show was a vindication for what they had been through with other media. 

In this show, piracy itself was that of a found family. Though Stede Bonnet and the crew of the Revenge start off with many differences, the core of the show centers around a theme that many queer audiences are attracted to: found family. The Revenge was depicted as a safe space, where everyone could express themselves freely, a refuge from a world of judgment. Queerness was not only accepted but normalized on The Revenge. No homophobia, no coming out, no typical complications of queer romance. Just love and safety. Warmth, which was Ed Teach wished for in purgatory. Which was what he found on the Revenge. The ship was a safe space that so many queer audiences had dreamed of. 

Well, a safe space except for one person: Izzy Hands, Blackbeard’s First Mate, who was a man painfully stuck in the wrong genre. This is the general consensus by both fans and the cast: Izzy, Edward and their crew had been in a gritty action movie, whereas Stede and his crew were in a muppet movie of sorts. While the majority of Blackbeard’s crew quickly acclimates to and celebrates the change, Izzy doesn’t. 

And right away, many fans felt a deep attraction to Izzy. The reason that Izzy couldn’t get Edward to love him was because, in the end, the only way that Izzy knew how to love was through blood. To give and receive pain in an action movie is one of the greatest forms of love, but Izzy fails to realize that Ed is not in an action movie anymore. He is happy with this stability, and the reason that so many people felt Izzy’s presence so was strongly was that he wasn’t. 

So many queer people are, in a way, addicted to tragedy. Tragedy is all that is represented in queer media for the most part, or was until very recently. Take Achilles and Patroclus, one of the most celebrated and recognized queer love stories of both ancient and modern times. Why that one? There are other greek love stories, many of them queer. The tragedy of it- Patroclus’ death and Achilles’ rage- made it all the more appealing. Many in the audience of Our Flag Means Death were not comedy fans, they were horror or drama fans, attracted to a comedy because of the love story. But Izzy, to them, was a physical representation of who they were, carrying an awareness of homophobia, of blood and pain that so many queer relationships had previously been illustrated by (i.e. Hannibal). Though Ed may not have understand this type of affection, the audience did- Izzy’s Otherness from the crew despite it’s safety, his expressions of love and his unrequited love story were all things that the audience were familiar with feeling. 

If Ed and Stede were good queer representation, Ed and Izzy, for example, were a foil of that. They were evil, messed up, and fed into the worst parts of each other because it brought them closer. This is a theme present in a lot of queer media, and by extension, queer lives: “if you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand”, is an excerpt classic queer poem about unrequited love that fits the situation. The very reason Izzy stuck in people’s heads because he was of a different genre. His grittiness and bitterness made sense to the audience. They saw Izzy and saw what was familiar. He was exquisitely written, simultaneously making even casual audiences both hate him, and against all odds, find him oddly endearing. The idea of this man sacrificing every inch of himself for an unrequited love was a concept of tragedy, leaking into a comedic show. 

So fans projected onto Izzy. He was a catalyst for the heartache, for the audience’s sheer inability to have a happy show. For one reason or another, some of the audience simply couldn’t live with a show that was all fantastical, which I theorize is because they couldn’t see themselves in it. So Izzy became the epitome of queer suffering: pining longingly after another man that couldn’t understand him. This projection of suffering, however, led to a new wish: happiness for Izzy. If Izzy in Season 1 was a tragedy, assimilating him into the found family in Season 2 would have elevated the safe sense of the ship all the more. It would have proved to so many of these Izzy Fans that yes, even though you view yourself as unloveable, even though you see yourself as Israel Hands, Villain, even he can be loved too. Why can’t you be? 

And Season 2, for the most part, delivered beyond our wildest dreams. Izzy had people who cared about him. And though the genre shifted into the darker, Izzy himself shifted slightly to the comedic side as well. His life, which had been centered for so long around a man that didn’t reciprocate his feelings, was gone. He started a new life, and this life, again, focused on queer joy. The queer joy from Season 1 was suddenly for everyone, even those like Izzy that couldn’t have understood it. He sang, he whittled, he talked about feelings, he dressed in drag. Many elder queer fans also saw Izzy as another metaphor, too: that queer joy can be attained overtime. You don’t have to have had it the whole time, but you can accept yourself even when you are older. The message of Izzy was one of resilience and stubbornness, one that the queer community needed to hear: that you don’t have to be like this, you don’t have to create pain for yourself. You don’t need to watch tragedies all the time. You, too, can heal from the past.

And then, the season finale happened. By this point, many argued that Izzy had stolen the show. Con O’Neil’s acting mixed with his general arc of self acceptance had made him a fan favorite. In the last episode, it is Izzy himself who sums it up perfectly, accepting that he belongs somewhere despite his pain and flaws. Despite the darkness within him, he was still accepted and loved. He says it right to the face of Prince Ricky, who thinks himself above it all. That piracy, a metaphor for otherness, wasn’t actually about being alone; it was about finding others that understood you when nobody else could. 

Listen, this show is known for it’s nonsensicality. In the finale of Season 1, Lucius is thrown overboard by Ed and survives by simply swimming to another ship. Stede reunites with his crew by sailing a rowboat. Buttons turns into a seagull. Stede stabs Ed for a comedic bit. Earlier in the season, Izzy himself gets shot and survives. This queer joy show was celebrated for being, well, joyful. Even when things like getting thrown overboard did happen, they were, ultimately, a blip in the character’s journey towards acceptance, healing, etc, which was what made the show unique. Our Flag Means Death, whose audience had been living for years off of the “Bury your gays” trope, was adored because it illustrated a world where things didn’t have to be that way. A place where the impossible, such as Izzy Hands being loved, could happen. This show was one of survival. 

But not for the one person that was seen to struggle with this concept the most. Not for the one person that was a metaphor for belonging in this place, who became, over the course of a season, the embodiment of the message itself. Not for the Unicorn, the very symbol of this magical, nonsensical ship. Not for the most stubborn, most indestructible, most enduring (queer) person in the show. Not for Izzy Hands. 

This trope, honestly, was one that many have seen before, both in mainstream and queer media. A character, previously shown to be a villain or else to have gone through a lot of pain, is shown to heal, to get better, and then to die in order to “complete their arc”. This trope is common: Loki, Cas. even Ted Lasso, who doesn’t die but goes back to the very place that broke him in the first place. But the reason that Izzy’s death, while it might have been expected in another show, felt like a betrayal in this one is because it was known for subverting those tropes. From the “Bury Your Gays” to the “Up For Interpretation”, it was known to look those tropes in the eyes and say “fuck you, these people deserve to be happy”. And this did happen! Except for the one character who’s healing journey was one of the most relatable, at least to queer audiences. 

What also made it so jarring was that all the other characters got to be happy, except for the one that had struggled with the idea of happiness the most. In the scene immediately after Izzy is buried, Lucius and Pete get married. In the scene after, a montage of queer joy and found family is shown amongst the whole crew. In the final scene, Ed and Stede, our main queer couple, are shown healing themselves and starting a new life together. The last shot, however, showed Izzy’s grave, visited by Buttons the seagull while Ed and Stede had dinner. A tragedy in it’s finest. It wouldn’t have been difficult for Izzy to live. Because, in the end, his death meant nothing. His healing meant nothing. He died and was moved on from in a matter of seconds. He was, as I mentioned, the catalyst for tragedy, more specifically, queer tragedy. But because of this, of his genre, Izzy didn’t get to live. He had to die in order for the rest of the characters to keep living in this fantasy world. This death was, in a way, a preservation of these other love stories.

I maintain, however, that it would have meant more if Izzy had lived. If he had been  able to show to us that yes, despite what you have been through, despite what you may have inflicted upon yourself, you can switch genres. It’s possible. Izzy’s survival up until that point had been a profound testament to many that it is possible to heal, that queerness does not have to mean sadness. It would have continued to be a testament to that if only Izzy had lived. And so, this pirate that we latched onto, not in spite of his darkness but because of it, was buried on land on the side of the road. 

As a side note, many previous incidences in the story point to the idea even though Ed and Stede will definitely stay together, it’s uncertain if the inn would have worked out. It’s likely that, being a whim, those two might have chosen to move, or go back to the sea, or sail to China. If this is true, they would have left Izzy’s grave by itself, like a family pet buried in the yard. If this is true, Izzy Hands, a metaphor for belonging, would rot alone. 

Long live the tragedy addicts. Long live the Richard Siken poems. Long live Izzy Hands. 

*When I talk about the "fandom" I am referring to the canyon.