#its like a huge comfort or something

[goemon-fan]

This was easily one of the best Lupin episodes

[zedif-y]

there are times when you write something and it's not your best , but somewhere out there whether you know it or not you just made someone really happy. so it's worth it i think

[thesandisfalling]

my official take on the moon/qibli/winter love triangle is that winterwatcher is a much grander, epic romance, and moonbli is a much more level, sweet-and-simple romance, but ultimately i think it was a better decision to have the latter be the canon romance in a series primarily marketed towards children and teens than fall into the "bad boy" romance trope, and instead romanticize the earnest, genuine, sweet relationship

obviously there's way more nuance to this involving internalized/unconscious bias, and winter doesn't even REALLY fit into the "bad boy" archetype, but purely based on genre conventions, the gruff, rude, brooding, tortured hero VERY often falls into that category, and at the ages of 7-14 most of us were very LIKELY to be romanticizing that archetype, which again is very often treated as interchangeable with the "abusive bad boy" trope, and while i might have a few gripes with the writing of moonbli and i ENJOY winterwatcher a whole lot, i DO appreciate the more gentle, "safe" romance being treated as the ideal, rather than the tense and angst-filled nature of the alternative

[a-dash-in-the-middle]

what if i-

best friend clears her whole schedule before she even reads where

-Love is your second nature, love is your language. Love! or whatever that one uquiz said about me

[camels-pen]

mmm read a hurt/comfort Zoro fic recently and like. I get it now. That guy DOES hurt so pretty. kinda wanna try my hand at it.

-

A voice disappeared.

Zoro stopped in his tracks, feet rooted to the spot.

Who was it? Where? How-?

Just barely, he managed to block a blade aiming for his neck.

Luffy was ahead of him, laughing his head off. The cook was a bright flaming beacon in the sky.

The rest? C'mon take a count, Zoro. Make sure.

Usopp. Nami. Chopper. Jinbei. Robin. Cook. Luffy.

What? Two? No, where were-

His breath hitched as he blocked another attack.

Calm down. Take a breath. Count again.

Usopp. Nami. Robin. Cook. Luffy.

Fuck. They couldn't-

No, they had to have left the battlefield. These guys were smallfry, even for the so called "weakling trio".

Zoro took a moment to focus on the enemy around him. He let off a tatsumaki before focusing again.

One at a time, Zoro. Come on.

Usopp.

Robin.

Sanji.

Zoro jerked, eyes wide and searching frantically.

"No, no no no no no. He can't have-" Luffy would never leave before the battle was done, not without making some kind of grand exit. He wouldn't leave without telling Zoro- telling anyone- about it.

He wouldn't up and disappear into thin air like that. Not unless-

Zoro shook his head roughly. They were fine, he just couldn't see them. It would be too much of a coincidence for them all to disappear like that. He just needed to count again, then regroup with Usopp, Robin, and the cook, and figure out what was going on.

Stay calm, Zoro. Losing your head won't find your friends.

So, again, Zoro breathed. And Zoro counted.

Usopp.

The only voice left, was Usopp.

Zoro wasted no time.

He sprinted as fast as he could, cutting down anyone in front of him almost as an after thought, as he bulldozed towards Usopp's voice.

He'd nearly made it too, when some dead man kicked his side hard enough to stop him in his tracks.

Zoro turned to him, a snarl on his face. "Get out of my way before I kill you."

"Huh?" The man sneered. "I should be saying the same thing, watch where you swing those swords, asshole."

Zoro was about to retort when he noticed Usopp's voice moving away from him. He didn't have time for this.

Without warning, Zoro moved to slice through his opponent and, to his surprise, the man blocked it with ease.

"You wanna go? Here and now?" the man growled. "I'll kick your fucking ass."

This man- Zoro has never met him before, but nonetheless felt he would need to pay him his full attention to have a chance at winning.

But Usopp was getting farther and farther-

Oh, Zoro could hit himself.

"USOPP!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, startling the man. "STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE, I'LL BE THERE SOON!"

Usopp didn't respond, but he stopped moving, and that was good enough for now.

"Hey!" The man yelled, pressing down on Zoro's swords. "Whatever you need him for can wait until after our battle's over. He's got his own problems to deal with."

Zoro didn't bother wasting his breath. He cut and slashed, throwing attack after attack without abandon. It didn't matter if he was wasting his energy, he needed to get to Usopp before- before-

The man, infuriatingly, blocked almost every blow, and got a few hits in on Zoro himself.

Zoro would get to Usopp, even if it killed-!

Suddenly, there was a crackle in the air and all at once, Zoro's nerves lit up with pure unfiltered pain.

He dropped to his knees, blurry vision wavering on black shoes. He couldn't feel his arms. Or his face. And his head was getting lighter and lighter.

Zoro's fading thoughts were prayers, to a god he didn't believe in, to keep his friend safe.

-

"GYAHHH, ZORO'S GONNA KILL ME!"

"Nami-swan, a little help please?" Sanji said, voice uncharacteristically strained.

"If you're asking, how can I say no?" Nami said, smirking. "Get out of the way... now!" The moment Sanji pushed off Zoro's swords to hop away, she brought down her Thunderbolt Tempo on top of Zoro. He fell to his knees before crumbling to the ground, twitching.

"You could've knocked him out on your own though, why ask for my help?" Nami asked.

"Ah well, it seemed he had a couple screws loose and I didn't want to kill what little braincells were remaining." Nami nodded in understanding.

The two of them turned to Usopp as he inched his way closer. He carefully prodded Zoro's thigh with his boot. "He's really unconscious, right? Not gonna get up anytime soon?"

Nami shrugged. "It's always hard to tell with him. But don't worry," -she stood tall, holding out her Climatact- "I'll shock him as many times as necessary."

"That means I get to live another day, so you have the Usopp deal of approval." Usopp gave her a thumbs up.

"What'd you even do to get him so pissed at you, Usopp?" Nami asked.

"Nothing!" He paused and looked away. "Well, nothing recently."

"He wasn't just mad," Sanji said. "He looked..." Scared, Sanji wanted to say. But the word was so... simple. Too simple. And it didn't explain the desperation in his eye. The wet sheen. The way he hardly blinked.

The way he kept himself facing the direction Usopp was in, revealing his constant use of Haki.

This wasn't just Zoro scared. This was Zoro terrified.

And Sanji had never seen him terrified before.

"...off," Sanji settled on, furrowing his brow. "He looked off."

Nami and Usopp hummed in thought.

The three of them stared down at Zoro's prone body. An ominous dark puddle started growing under him.

The three of them sighed.

"I'll call Chopper-" Usopp felt a tug on his ankle. He looked down. Zoro's hand was holding his boot. "I thought you said he was unconscious!" he yelled, trying to break his grip unsuccessfully.

Sanji poked Zoro with his shoe. Zoro didn't move. "He's still unconscious, so you're gonna have to be his teddy bear."

"What?! No!" He gripped onto Sanji's shirt. "Sanji-kun pleaaaaase free me before my ankle's crushed in his sleep!"

Sanji rolled an eye. "You'll be fine."

"Then can you go get Chopper? Zoro's losing a lot of blood."

"The mosshead'll be fine too. Also," -Sanji pointed to Luffy and Chopper doing some kind of strange combo attack, with Chopper in Heavy Point using Luffy as a whip- "I don't wanna break up their fun."

"Sanji-kun," Nami piped up. "Go get Chopper, please."

"Of course, Nami-swan!" Sanji immediately ran off.

-

The two of them quietly watched him go.

"Did you see what caused this?" Usopp asked.

Nami shook her head. "I know about as much as you do: Zoro suddenly taking out a big group at once and then charging towards you." She bit her lip. "I don't think he recognized Sanji."

Usopp sighed, squatting down to pull the bandana from green hair. He stared at the slackened face of his friend, hands tightening in dark fabric.

"What happened to you, Zoro?"

[cyanidas]

somewhere in there, he’s still grieving

[troublcmakcrs]

//saw an absolutely ice cold take that tweek shouldn't have a coffeeshop of his own when he gets older bc his parents & their coffee is what caused most of his problems, and i'm like... it's about retribution, it's about allowing him to run their business better than they did, to become more successful than they did without using underhanded methods and hurting people, it's about the despite, it's about letting him thrive despite, despite, despite

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Double Edged Dagger of Beauty

Dear fics that explore how Edward grew up always being hot shit (either physically being an attractive person, mentally with how good of a pirate he was, or having achieved so much at a certain age), and how insecure he is as he ages and loses what makes him 'special', I love you.

I think this is due to being raised as a woman, but so much of my life has been waiting to be enough. Hot enough for a partner, smart enough to be respected or strong enough to be worthy of someone's time. To not being seen as weak... But it's years later that I'm just starting to realize that I will never be enough if I keep waiting on someone to tell me I'm enough, you know?

Usually, these themes are explored in a mid-life crisis way, but I recently read a fic where Ed contemplates if he only earned respect/love from his crew/Izzy thanks to being an attractive person. That his worth is only tied to what he is as a shell. On the outside. Tying it back to canon by pointing out how as soon as Edward stopped being Blackbeard, he was alone, and Stede had to be the friendly face in his life, not his first mate or old crew.

Then he contemplates what his life would be like if he was nothing special, would he even still be alive? Would he have lasted 20+ years? This is all during a mental spiral, where he feels unconnected to his body. I don't know, but it hit really close to home.

I'd love to hear y'alls thoughts on this, start a whole conversation...Especially those who spend more time in Ed spaces than I do.

[kaeyachi]

the more someone tries to shove a ship to my face (even one that i really like) the more my insides want to create a rarepair instead

anyway have i told yall the idea of WandererxTighnari I've got going on in my brain or would y'all like to take a moment for my HaiKaeNo agenda

[computerpeople]

playing josh as someone whos attempting to be overtly nice is really interesting. i don't think he was like that before all of the events of my rp josh, but i do think josh has this constant back and forth issue of overly chillax/people pleasing behavior because he doesnt have the energy or tollerance to fight with people ,and being the most bitchy catty snarky piece of shit ever.

[riptidethepen]

In my memory, his funny moments early on were him being the straight-man in the comedy. He made deprecating remarks both about himself and others. The funniness was from the set up and cartoonish physical comedy.

Sokka in the later half of the show still has some of those characteristics. He's still suspicious of things to a funny degree but it's no longer deprecating in the same way. He still has some straight-man moments but more often he tries to be intentionally funny.

The interesting thing about Sokka and Katara's sibling dynamic was how they traded off who was serious and who was goofy. The levelheadedness was passed back and forth. Early on, Katara got to be the fun and approachable one, and Sokka filled in the role of suspicious and trying to be The Man. Then later on Katara has some more serious moments and Sokka kinda feels the pressure and does his best to alleviate with jokes or reassurance.

I saw someone post about how they hope the writers got rid of Sokkas “stupid humor” for the live action show and like damn I don’t think someone had fundamentally misunderstood a character more.

Sokkas humor is a huge part of his character and shows a major aspect of his growth. At the beginning of the show Sokka is NOT the funny guy. In fact, he’s the most serious dude in his village. In the pilot, Aang and Katara are off playing with penguins while Sokka is literally putting on war paint and preparing to defend the rest of the village from a Fire Nation war ship. He has been the only man in his village for like four years. And he’s only fourteen. Sokka doesn’t make jokes at first, and when he does they’re usually sexist because his whole thing is about how much of a man he is. Sokka developing humor signifies his growth is a thousand ways. How he learns to respect others. How he starts to make friends. And more importantly, how he turns from a man back into a boy.

[termagax]

usually what i do is i have him have his long hair before the omnium goes and then shaves it all off when things get really really bad and then it grows back out to where it is now. i think i have a specific read on him where it would be something more important to him than canonically indicated so i think about it a loooooot.

[dismantlecomic]

Chapter 3 cover!! ✧────────────────✧ >> Next >> First ✧────────────────✧ This chapter has some very specific TW's that I suggest you check out Here!! I dont usually give warnings at the start of chapters, but if subjects implying suicide makes you uncomfortable, read with caution or take a break ;; !!

[filmsnroses]

the past 48 hours included my surg sneaking me into the hospital at 7 a.m so i could watch my first m&m meeting with him, hearing him roast surgical residents like the chief of surg guy he is, running back to the office in the rain bc there was a procedure to scrub in to later that day, shadowing another respected surg performing two invasive procedures at the hospital, inhaling my first whiff of burning tissues/skin, and eating cold scramble eggs but amazing breakfast sausages at the physician's lounge--being absolutely unsurprised for my dislike towards coffee once again.

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[tristiloquent]

it's something that gets lost in translation, really. biscuits in the UK are much much different than biscuits in the US. in the UK the word exclusively refers to a type of cookie (kind of like shortbread, to paint with a very broad brush, or a graham cracker), and country gravy really doesn't exist there. onion gravy, however....

like, yeah, I love biscuits and gravy, but you have to admit that if you had no frame of reference for what the food is, and given what you already are familiar with, it would sound absolutely appalling.

it's quite literally no different than how usamericans (including op) disparage UK food because you don't understand it.

usamericans eat squeeze cheese, anyway, so, like, calm down.

Idk maybe it’s not my place to say this, but I’m still not over that salty British person trying to come up with “gross sounding” American foods to put on their poll and choosing almost exclusively southern foods like biscuits and gravy, grits, and boiled peanuts. Like America has food abominations, no one would’ve had an issue if they just filled the poll with stuff like deep fried butter or the gelatin abominations made by us white people in the 50s, but no they go after soul food of the American south????