#old lady yelling at the clouds

[biff-adventurer]

fuck lore strictness. seriously.

i don't care if you're a spongebob squarepants oc adapted for xiv. that's way more interesting and endearing to me than a character pretending to belong 100% to the game. fan content will never be canon and that kind of authenticity is both pretentious and impossible. unless you're part of the actual writing team, your work will always be fannish. and fan content is only at its best when it interprets, creates or transforms its source material. that is how art is actually made. by pushing boundaries and commenting on the themes at play.

plausibility and its degrees are there to let people in. i don't care whether they want to opt into the world of that character or not. "it's too much of a stretch" is not the fucking same thing as looking down on people for being cringe. but it's often used as a cover for judgment and elitism, and that's literally the opposite of what the ffxiv team is about.

yoshi p said, if you believe it can happen, it can happen.

square enix is a company that wants to sell a game. if the demand in the fandom is strong enough, or even if their own rules get in the way of telling a profitably interesting story, they will even change the lore or disregard it altogether. that's what leads to inconsistencies. and, honestly, consistency is not necessary to understand the themes of the story. if you want to make it happen, you can interpret as you please.

obviously, media literacy is at an all time low. some people break the lore without even thinking about whether or not it's even the same game anymore, or if they'll find any partners to be compatible with them based on how much they deviate. there are people, in the same vein, who literally say, "if it does not exist in the game, there is no basis for this idea and we will reject it." that kind of conservative nonsense is full of pretension and repression. both directions lead you into nonsense and, depending on the person's biases, move them to write stories riddled with unintentional bigotry.

i used to think my meteor survivor one punch man himbo would be seen as the lowest of the low. nope. people i know, thoughtful people, enthusiastic people, have been treated like shit because of this attitude of elitism. yeah, yeah, it's nothing new, but it fucking sucks. we're all playing dollies. most people prefer the playing part of roleplaying without actually behaving as writers. but the ones who delude themselves into thinking they are good writers, then go on to treat others like they are less than, is fucking ridiculous.

anyway, i'd much rather play with foster's home for imaginary friends adopted for xiv than pretend to an imaginary standard unrooted in compassion or the spirit of real creativity.

[shingekinomyfeelings]

People really need to stop equating virginity/lack of sexual experience with someone being 'naive' and 'innocent' and any other bullshit terms indicating immaturity. Getting fucked for the first time will not imbue someone with wisdom or a deeper understanding of humanity or love or the realities of the world. Sorry if you think sex is literally magic, it's not.

Also, this shouldn't be a hot take, but if someone who has never wanted to have sex has never had sex, that's actually a good thing.

Don't you fucking dare imply I'm lacking something.

[switchscene]

It really sucks to see a well thought out post about witchy concepts or spiritual activities, one that makes you go "damn I really wanna look more into this," but the art that gets used with it is very clearly AI art. It makes me question even looking into the thing, it makes me wonder "was the whole treatise written by AI? Is it worth checking out, only to find it's complete bullshit (or arguably worse, only half bullshit and the half that isn't makes the whole thing wildly appropriative)?"

Maybe I'm naive but it feels antithetical to the whole thing. One of the biggest draws of witchcraft is learning, and I can't help but feel that element is lost when you have a computer regurgitate what it thinks witchcraft is, or when you present your research with a picture made by a machine. Credit an artist, cite a source (this is a great way to recommend new craft books to other witches btw), but for the love of all the gods please let your own soul shine through in the craft you share 🦊

[discobiscotto]

Just Guys Bein’ Dudes: A Needlessly Huge TED-Talk About Luca & Alberto’s Relationship

Ready for some big-brain BS?

Well, ready or not, here’s a “little” dive into how I interpret/perceive Luca and Alberto’s relationship.

Note: I’m referring to them as my own headcanon versions of them as men. It can certainly be applied to them as young adults and teens for sure, but I’m diving into ‘Ciao Luca’ territory specifically. So, there, just being clear on the who’s who.

What’s their deal anyhow?

Are they romantic partners? Are they attracted to eachother, yanno 👉🏻👈🏻? Buddies? Buddies with benefits? Are they even a couple? Are they husbands? What’s their deal?

So, a couple years ago when I was starting to get really busy with the headcanons, I went on a tear about their relationship to lay down some kind of clear foundation for it. I felt alittle conflicted at the time about how their relationship was going to feel/act like.

To me, because I love ambiguity, I wanted to keep that energy going from the original source material…but with alittle “oomph”…considering there’s been time and maturity tacked on. They can’t just be Pallin’ Around forever, something’s gotta give with chemistry that strong imo.

If I’m being honest, them being point-blank romantic partners felt too cliched and predictable/boring. Courtship, wooing, marriage…snore. It just didn’t feel like ‘them’ to me. It bordered heteronormative somehow. I was just …PUTTING MYSELF TO SLEEP.

Not to say they aren’t romantic, because they certainly are in their own right! It just isn’t the defining Vibe of their relationship.

As a queer lady with a pretty open mind in terms of what defines a relationship and/or bond, I believe that love expression is on a spectrum. Different strokes for different folks, yanno?

I scooted myself over to that old filing cabinet in my brain with random Greek Philosophy tid-bits (that I was impressed wasn’t put thru the incinerator) and I got polishing.

I remembered a few terms, like storge (family love), Eros: romantic, mania: obsessive/stalkerish love, agape, philia, the list goes on.

We’re gonna focus on PHILIA, typically deemed affectionate and/or “brotherly love”, I think also falls under platonic love.

We’re going to come back to this later☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

As a couple of seamonsters (first and foremost) the human concept of love may not necessarily compute to them. Not that they get confused or turn their nose up at it, but rather it’s more boxed-in and rigid than, I guess, fish love? Haha.

Example: homosexuality, bisexuality, and heterosexuality as concepts are human inventions to help humans navigate their life and their identity in the world, be part of a tribe, and potentially find mates.

They’re social constructs, like gender conformity, and Mondays.

Seamonsters really don’t have that. They’re similar to humans in alot of ways, but in terms of attraction, love, and social awareness, they just kindof ride the wave and go where the current takes them.

Opposite sex pairings likely happen more often because [gestures] instincts and Makin’ Fries. But just like humans, same sex relationships happen just as much!…but seamonsters have no concept of homophobia (strictly a human invention) so there’s no discouragement or imposed fear of the relationship…it just happens if it’s meant to and the world keeps spinning. [deep sighs]

Luca and Alberto are aware of human society and customs (especially now that they’ve been living amongst them for atleast 15 years). So, they still try to do-as-the-humans-do sometimes. They know that they feel a strong bond to eachother that can’t be ignored, and when humans sense a similar bond between each other they express it by being physically intimate, or giving gifts, or creating things for eachother, etc.

So, basically, it boils down to “I love my friend, so I wish to express that love for him like that [gesture].”

Now bringing it back to Philia up there!👆🏻

That particular source defines philia as brotherly love, both must be men (in the Greek system), they respect and take pleasure in eachother’s company, bond through exploring philosophical truths, and sexual intimacy or attraction is optional.

This other source takes it a bit further saying that we could be diving into “friends to lovers” territory which is the aforementioned “oomph” I was referring to. The bridge into Eros stuff without being completely rooted there (ie your usual romantic pair).

Their relationship isn’t based on physical attraction, but began as a close friendship that progressed into something more. Not built on lust, but on mutual affection and respect for eachother.

They are an “unlikely” pair. Where a hockey hug became alittle tighter, and the joined hands in a good old “Piacere Girolamo Trombetta” started to linger.

They feel safe with eachother, they love and prefer eachother’s company, they share eachother’s worlds and feel deeply connected in them. Alberto cooks meals for them because he loves Luca, and Luca gives Alberto [SPOILER] because he loves him back.

They share a “I can’t quite put my finger on it but I feel safe, warm, and happy with you, I enjoy your company and what we have, I love the feeling of you being close to me, exchanging warmth and heartbeats, and I feel like this is more than going out on dates or ‘picking out curtains’.” kind of thing.

They’re roommates who kiss and “play house”. They are in love…but express it in their own unique way. They are openly affectionate. They keep people guessing, they confuse the neighbors, they have an “inside joke”.

Alberto lays on the housewife schtick: straightening Luca’s tie and sending him on his way with a packed lunch.

They call eachother heteronormative terms of endearment, mostly to be cheeky. Sarcastic “Honey” or “Dear” followed by someone affectionately ending up in a headlock.

They love to play with the human version of “married life”, little do they realize they’ve grown genuinely accustomed to it.

They’re queer but have no name and nowhere they’d rather be except each other’s arms (that one place that makes perfect sense).

They aren’t married…they never can get married…but that doesn’t stop them from sharing their homes, their beds, and a last name written on their Christmas cards.

In conclusion, humans say they’re gay.

The Paguro’s say “They built a farm together.”

SOURCES:

[bananamilk2004]

yeah ok we've heard of butch fem ghost which is awesome showstopping amazing but if i may add onto that: the entire tf141 being butches. soap with the same mohawk stunting around in military surplus activewear to attract femmes (or other butches. she's not picky). gaz who– unlike her friends– presents herself as more of a bifauxnen with clean pressed shirts and a nice smile. price who's the hardest butch out of all of them; never shaving, foregoing bras, referring to herself with brazen terms popular in the older queer scene (all the while having the voice of a chainsmoker, so deep it can initially be mistaken for a man's tone) (maybe she even packs?)

just. ugh. butches…

and imagine if you were passed between all of them? spitroasted by their straps? omg

[paverage-blog]

It occurred to me (while looking for one I lost) that a fic rec list is like a good mixtape. And for those of you who weren’t kids in the 1980-90s my heart hurts that you may not know the specific feeling of making or receiving a perfect mixtape (no, a playlist is not the same! Hush up now, an old person is talking.)

And then it occurred to me that fanfics themselves are a little like a mixtape. You take things which already exists and which you love and you make them new. Maybe you put in an unfamiliar genera or artist as juxtaposition, you create a new story or feeling by recontextualizing, you reshape the original into what you want it to be or want it to communicate. Sometimes you go off on a hunt for something new to add and you expand your own horizons.

Or you are exposed to something that becomes your new obsession through what someone else shares with you. You discover artist you never would have found otherwise, and your horizon cracks a little more. Sometimes (in the really great ones) art accompanied the mixtape and there was a whole new layer of meaning and magic to explore. God, sometimes there were multiples and they become a series!

All of this mixtape making was a labor of love. A mixtape said, “Here, I took the time to make something out of what I love and I want to share it with you. I really hope you’ll enjoy it. I’m gifting it to you for free because I care about you and I hate capitalism.”

And that is what fanfic is to me: creating and sharing what you love, because you care about the fandom and you hate capitalism.

Thanks to all of you who take time to create and share your writing. Thanks for reading mine. Thanks for loving the characters and keeping the story going. MAKE MORE FIC REC LISTS!! (Also, fuck capitalism.)

[secretly-a-trickster-goddess]

The more I see Series stans say you should feel sorry for Sylvie or like her because she’s just “a poor misunderstood blorbo :(“, “she’s so badass and cool!” or that she’s “had it worse than Loki/Shes just as broken as Loki!”. The more I dislike her. I’m not sorry. No amount of trying to persuade me will ever make me like such a poorly written and annoying character. Like Sylvie and feel sorry for her alllll you want, I’m not stopping you. But no, you can’t convince me to like her. The same goes for your “poor Blorbos” at the TVA. I don’t like them, either.

[awakefor48hours]

I hate the tiktokifcation of the English language.

[ltleflrt]

I'm mad about the Midjourney thing, but I'm also resigned. This is going to continue to spread throughout the internet until there's some kind of legislation about it, and by then it will be too late. Like, where else are we going to go? Sure, there are small sites like Dreamwidth or Pillowfort, but could they handle an entire Tumblr exodus? Are you going to support them with subscriptions so they don't go under, when you wouldn't do the same for Tumblr? Where are you going to put your thoughts and your drabbles? Your art? DeviantArt already flipped this switch a while ago. Other big sites are going to do the same, and smaller private sites can't afford the traffic of Tumblr.

"Well I just won't post anywhere."

Okay? If you're someone I follow I'll miss your stuff, but that's your choice. I can't imagine stopping posting altogether because capitalism is ruining the internet. I'd miss the socialization. And while Tumblr's communities are less active due to the porn ban exodus and the influx of people who are allergic to the reblog button, I still see more activity here than I get on AO3 or Discord servers.

If there ever is a Tumblr alternative, I'm all for moving, but the current alternatives aren't inspiring. And wherever fandom goes it's gotta have a queue or what's the point. In the meantime I'll go toggle the settings on all my blogs, and I'll pass around "Hi Newbies, here's how you should personalize your settings" posts that include info on how to toggle the settings. And I'll vote for politicians who believe in regulating businesses while preserving privacy, and hope they can regulate AI in time for it to make a difference.

[nsfwitchy2]

Can a pet groomer and a sheep sheerer fall in love-

[raylangivins]

i know we like to joke about like rpf university on here or whatever but i would really appreciate being able to take a lecture where someone explains all the bob/dylan joan baez lore to me without me having to like. actually get into bob dylan.

[dabblingreturns]

Okay. I have an opinion about dress codes..... its not a popular option but its a strong opinion:

Dress codes in schools themselves are not the problem, but its the logic behind the dress code that's an issue.

(Quick disclaimer. 20 years ago I went to a catholic high school with an absolutely draconian dress code that included collared shirts and no denim)

The problem with dress codes is that the messaging around them is sexist, racist and designed to make people feel bad about themselves.

"Don't wear spaghetti straps or you will distract the boys!" Is a horrible thing to tell a a little girl.

"Your hair can't be in dreads is a horrible thing to tell a black kid.

"We do this so that everyone has equal clothes.....maybe with a uniform but not with a dress code.

You know what messaging would actually sell me on dress codes?

If one if the teachers got up at the beginning of the year and said somethingalong the lines of:

"We as teachers take your Education very seriously. We thing that teaching you is important, so every day, we get up and we dress like professional, to show that we think this is important. We ask that you get a little dressed up to learn. We have a list of what society seams to think is appropriate attire, and we ask that you wear it when you are in our classes learning, to show that you value your education as much as we do.

We can have conversation around why our society considers these clothes to more formal.than other clothes and the factors in our society that have lead us to this list. And whether society has made a fair evaluation.

But we do ask that you follow this dress code to show that you care, or come to us and ask for help if you run into issues."

I would have been so much happier as a teen if I didn't feel like the dress code was specifically there to target me. And was instead there to show that I cared.

[antilocaprine]

Frenrey w 23 or 50 (or if you feel you have the energy combine them? I feel they could be combined but it's your call)

(Kiss Prompt List)

50: ...out of love.

Gordon’s hair has mostly gone gray now, with white streaks from his temples and at the edges of his still-tightly-trimmed beard. He’s smugly proud of the volume of hair he still has. He doesn’t say this, of course, but Benrey can tell by the amount of time he puts into the combing and washing and trimming of it.

Benrey himself is going bald, mostly to make Gordon laugh and preen in comparison. He lets wrinkles form on his cheeks and brow, lets the bags under his eyes grow, and sprinkles some salt strands into his own dark hair.

They make quite a dignified couple, sitting on the front porch and looking out across the low mists wreathing the fields in the mountain town they moved to a decade after Joshua finished college and moved to Brazil. He’s partnered with some futuristic food company to work on the development of a new strain of cashews, and rides with the local gauchos in his time off. Gordon and Benrey talk to him several times a week on Gordon’s tablet, though Joshua whines about that at least once a month (“Dad, c’mon, let me get you a newer model, please”). But the tablet is the only thing left in the house that can load Benrey’s favorite old games, so Gordon refuses to upgrade.

Benrey thinks that feels a little like love.

“Did you see this?” Gordon says suddenly, and Benrey glances up from the tablet only to get a faceful of newsprint. 

“I see that you’re a grandpa,” Benrey grumbles and reaches up with one hand to push the newspaper back far enough that he can actually see the article Gordon is pointing to.

“Shut up,” Gordon says affectionately. “Tommy’s invested in the local news, we have to support it.”

“Tommy should’ve, uh, invested in something that’s better, then.” Benrey squints at the headline, then rears back, setting the porch swing (another mark in the grandpa column) to swaying. “Whuh - is that -?”

“Yes!” Gordon snaps, pulling the newspaper back and spinning it to glare down at the article. “Margaret Heinrichs is running for mayor!”

“She can’t even run a, uh, chili contest,” Benrey says.

“Exactly! And speaking of, look - look!” He holds the paper back up to Benrey’s face, one metal finger tapping aggressively at a line of text. “The firehouse is supporting her run! After what they said about the last chili cook-off!”

“Oh, what’d they say?” Benrey doesn’t remember hearing about this - though that may have been because he had to tiptoe around the house for two weeks after Gordon lost the cook-off on a technicality, even though all five judges agreed his chili was far better than Margaret’s.

“They said it was a disgrace,” Gordon says vehemently. “The chief himself told me that no one had ever enforced that rule before. Ten year’s residency, my ass - it’s fucking stupid!”

“It’s only been, what, eight years?” Benrey muses. “You gonna try again this year?”

“Fuck yes I’m gonna try again,” Gordon growls, newspaper crinkling in the tight grip of his metal hand. His flesh hand trembles a little these days, off and on, but the metal hand is strong and true. Benrey’s not sure how to feel about that sometimes.

“You gonna - same recipe?”

“No,” Gordon says, and gives him a feral grin. “I’m using a better one. Nuclear option or bust.”

Benrey’s eyebrows go up. “Oh, shit?”

“That’s right,” Gordon says, settling his shoulders against the porch swing’s backrest and smiling out at the thinning mist. “Grandma’s recipe.”

“Oh, shit,” Benrey chuckles. “Yeah, that’ll - that’ll knock their socks off.” He taps his foot against Gordon’s. Gordon snorts and taps him back.

“You and feet, man,” he says. “Always with the feet.”

“You love it,” Benrey replies automatically, and Gordon tilts his head toward him and smiles gently.

“Yeah,” he says. “I really, really do.”

They lapse into silence, and over the years Benrey has learned the different flavors of Gordon’s silences. This one starts out scheming, then transforms into something more wistful and contemplative. Benrey advances two more levels in his game, then decides he’s bored and hooks a foot behind Gordon’s ankle.

Gordon blinks and starts a little. “Hmm?”

“What’s your, uhhh plans?”

“Take down Margaret,” Gordon replies promptly.

Benrey huffs a short laugh. “No, I, uh. I meant for today.”

“Oh.” Gordon links his fingers and stretches his arms out in front of him, then catches the newspaper before it can slide off his lap. “I can’t just do that today?”

“Uh…” Benrey thinks for a moment. “I guess, but then we’d prob’ly have to, uh. Go into hiding or something.”

“Eh, Tommy could fix that for us,” Gordon says, waving a hand.

Benrey grins at him. “Okay, so, d’you wanna kill her?”

Gordon takes a deep breath and heaves a sigh that sounds like it comes all the way from his feet. (Yeah, okay, Benrey knows what he likes.) 

“I guess we shouldn’t,” he says. “Anyway, it’ll be way more satisfying to beat that hag at her own game.”

“Poison?”

Gordon snorts. “No, man, chili.”

“Poison in the chili?”

“Oh, now there’s a thought,” Gordon says, tapping at his lip with a metal finger. “But how to keep it away from the judges…?”

Benrey makes a dismissive noise, and Gordon cracks, cackling loudly enough that it startles a small flock of crows from the line of pine trees across the road.

“Let’s not even start,” Gordon says, lifting his glasses to wipe moisture from the corners of his eyes. “Don’t even - if I start thinking about how easy it would be to do, I’m gonna fucking do it, and then we really will have to leave.”

“Yeah, but - it’d be worth it,” Benrey says, leaning back and throwing an arm across the backrest. Gordon leans against it and sighs as Benrey curls his hand around Gordon’s shoulder.

“Nah, not yet. I like it here.”

They gaze out across the fields and toward the line of dark trees that the crows are circling back down into, still cawing reproachfully. Benrey’s tempted to change shape and go bother them, but he resists the urge. Sometimes when he changes back, he forgets to add the age marks - and he sees the look on Gordon’s face when Benrey appears, even for a moment, to be the same age he was the day they met. He’s not, of course - time moves forward for them all, even when it’s stopped - but Benrey’s appearance has always been under his control more than most.

“We should go make food,” Gordon says after a few minutes, but he makes no effort to move. Benrey runs his fingers up and down Gordon’s shoulder, and taps the inside of his ankle with his foot.

“Yeah?” Benrey mumbles, attention torn between playing his game one-handed and studying Gordon’s graying profile.

“Well,” Gordon says. “Eventually.”

The midmorning sun is finally breaking over the tall pine trees, its heat burning out the last wisps of mist. A car passes by on the county road - one of the newer models with hardlight tires. Benrey’s been in those, and he’s always a little disturbed by the silence. He much prefers the rattle and crunch of traditional rubber tires. At least then you know you’re connected to the road. Hardlight tires sound the same if they’re driving over a hill or driving off a cliff, and Benrey doesn’t trust what he can’t hear.

“D’you remember that brand of soda that we kept getting from those two vending machines? The ones outside Darnold’s lab?” Gordon’s voice sounds a bit distant, and Benrey’s grip on his shoulder tightens involuntarily.

“The one with the, uh, gamer colors?”

“Yes! Those ones.”

“I think it was, uh.” Benrey makes a face as he dredges his memories. “I think it was called Glub?”

“It was not.” Gordon’s voice is flat. Benrey shrugs.

“S’what I remember.”

“Is it? Fuck, how could I forget that?” Gordon’s voice trails off, and he leans further into Benrey’s side. “Fucking…Glub soda? Glub cans? Cans of Glub?”

“Can’t you Glub?” Benrey says, and he feels the memory ping in Gordon’s brain as he tenses, then laughs.

“That’s right - okay, I remember now. ‘I can Glub - can you Glub?’ We had Tommy going in circles.”

“You didn’t even like the flavor.”

“I didn’t! None of us did, it was terrible! No wonder no one outside Black Mesa has ever heard of it!”

“Well, scientists have no taste, so -” Benrey is interrupted by Gordon leaning back and whacking him playfully with the newspaper. He holds up one hand and struggles to continue. “So how could you tell if it was good or -”

“I will kill you,” Gordon cackles, and the porch swing sways wildly under them, the metal chains creaking. “Watch it, watch - you’re gonna break our fucking chair!”

“Oh noooo,” Benrey drawls, and goes for his own nuclear option to end the conflict. He wraps a hand around the back of Gordon’s skull and tugs him down into a teeth-clacking kiss.

Gordon laughs into his mouth and returns the kiss, quieting immediately. Benrey winds his fingers through the silver strands of Gordon’s hair and tugs gently. Gordon mumbles something unintelligible against his lips and cups Benrey’s face with both hands - one sun-warmed metal, and one blood-warmed flesh. The newspaper finally escapes to the wooden planks of the porch with a rustle.

Gordon disengages first, then smacks a kiss to the top of Benrey’s balding head. Benrey grins and tugs a lock of gray hair over Gordon’s shoulder, wrapping it around his finger and kissing it in turn - and that feels a little like love.

“So,” he says. “Margaret?”

Gordon’s face darkens. “Fuck Margaret,” he says. “Well, not - ugh, you know what I mean.”

Benrey snorts and runs a hand down Gordon’s arm to link their fingers together. “Yeah, I know.”

“C’mon,” Gordon says, and tugs their linked hands to pull Benrey to his feet, leaving the newspaper on the floor as he heads for the door. “I’ve got a chili recipe to find.”

Benrey raises their joined hands and presses a quick kiss to the back of Gordon’s knuckles as they head for the kitchen, and is only mildly surprised to feel metal against his lips. He hadn’t even noticed that it was Gordon’s prosthetic hand he was holding. They’re both Gordon’s, after all.

Soon, the kitchen will fill with the smell of browning meat, black beans, green chili, and spices. Soon, Benrey will be called upon to be the taste tester, and will have to come up with slightly different words of praise for each batch. Soon, Joshua will call and they will bicker over the tablet, and the upcoming cookoff, and the similarities of their two towns, separated by half a world. But right now, Benrey squeezes Gordon’s hand tighter, and admires the way the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and watches his silver hair dance as he whirls through the house, dragging Benrey after him like he can’t imagine doing anything without him.

And, well, okay. Benrey supposes that this all feels an awful lot like love.

[gwydionae]

Ok, serious question for One Piece fans.

Here's the TL;DR:

I'm at Fishman Island in the anime. I know lots of future spoilers for WCI and Wano. I love pre-time skip Sanji and WCI Sanji. I hate Fishman Island Sanji. The question is, as a Sanji fan, how much disappointment should I prepare for in Punk Hazard/Dressrosa/etc until WCI? Is he going to stay this obnoxious until then?

And here's the rather long explanation rant because sometimes you just gotta vent:

I started reading the manga, like, 20 years ago, but I dropped it during the Fishman Island arc. There were many reasons for this (some unrelated to OP entirely), but a big one was Sanji. He had always been my favorite character, and while there had been moments pre-time skip that I didn't love (see: Clear Clear Fruit and it's improper uses), I found he became downright insufferable after it. I don't have to love everything about a character for them to be my favorite, but FI pushed me past my limit.

I have since skimmed through Whole Cake Island and bits of Wano due to seeing spoilers that made me believe that may have changed over time, and I did really like the parts that I read. Well, most of them, anyway (see: invisibility and it's improper uses, Sanji). So between that and hype over the live action version, I went back and started watching the anime for the first time.

I am once again in the early goings of Fishman Island, and I am STRUGGLING. Every time Sanji is on screen my brain is warring between remembering what I like about his character and what I'm seeing play out currently. He used to be overly fond and protective of woman, to the point that his inability to fight them hindered the crew. Now he's an active pervert drooling in the face of every pretty woman who is hindering the crew simply by bleeding to death at the sight of any woman including his own crewmates. Had this happened, like, once, MAYBE twice, ok, it's a dumb gag, but whatever. But it's not a one off gag. It just keeps going, to the point where it doesn't feel like a gag anymore so much as an actual character trait. It's like his flaws (which can make for interesting character drama, like his inability to physically harm Kalifa) are now his core personality, and everything I liked about him isn't even there anymore. Heck, part of his training was to learn to cook foods to help his crew, and he hasn't even cooked anything yet, and he was separated from his crew for two years!

(Ugh, don't mind me, just unearthing feelings buried real deep a decade ago. ANYWAY)

I know he gets better. He'll never feel quite like his pre-time skip (especially pre-Thriller Bark) self again, but I know that WCI adds in some really interesting layers to his character, and while Wano still has his perviness turned up a bit higher than I'd prefer, there's real depth to his character to keep him from sinking back into the one note gag that is Fishman Island. He will get growth. He will go back to being an enjoyable and rounded character one day.

I just really need to know exactly how long I have to wait for that to happen.

Sanji is (obviously) not the only thing I like about One Piece. I like nearly all of the Straw Hats, I've gotten attached to more than a few side characters over time, and the fact that it's so long and hasn't (to my knowledge) felt like a mad scramble of retcons is highly impressive.

But here on good old tumblr, I expect people to understand about the blorbos. They're different. They're special. And feeling like I wish one of them would finally succumb to death by nosebleed is, to put it mildly, not ideal.

And thus the question at hand. Because if I have to put up with this Sanji all the way until WCI, I might just scream. But at least if I have the warning ahead of time, I'll know to expect it rather than fruitlessly hoping he gets better before then.

Just give it to me straight, doc. How bad is it?

(The one thing I know of him between now and WCI is that his mind/soul/?? gets stuck in Nami's body - not sure for how long or what all he... does... in there, though. So please spoil that for me. I do not want that kind of surprise.)

[muppetminge]

look i'm not going to pretend like my generation didn't have models that weighed less than a bag of sand and airbrushing in the magazines and all that shit because we did and that was fucked up too

but i get so like. genuinely freaked out by like filters on social media and those kinds of things. it makes me worry for the girls who are growing up with these things as normal. i just can't help but feel like a filter that tries to *correct* your fucking face in real time must be so so so much worse than what we had? even just the "silly/fun" ones still smooth out your skin and shave off half your nose and reshape your face. so many phones have magic smoothing as an automatic feature on the front cams. so it's like not even an active choice or something you're aware of. and so much of this world is based on selfies and videos so you're gonna be seeing it *constantly*. you take a selfie for fun but the photo is unrecognisable. it's not you. if that's not a breeding ground for body dysmorphia i don't know what is.

and we knew that those "model standards" were unrealistic and unattainable and they still fucked us up! but today you're seeing your peers all made up like that online and logically that must connect into a feeling of like. that should be attainable? but it's still not! and idk but that can't be fucking healthy.

it just feels like to me there's a difference between seeing heidi klum or whoever and then your classmate maria posting pictures with perfect skin, straightened nose, whitened teeth. it's like the insane otherworldly standards we grew up with has been pulled down into everyday life. idk i just don't think it's coincidence that today we have 15 year olds sharing anti-aging routines and wearing 5 layers of makeup just to leave the house. the standards for a normal face has been digitally altered

[tarisilmarwen]

At this point the only reason I click on post-Rebels speculation videos about what Ezra and Thrawn are up to is to mine the comments for my “Things That Annoy Me Specifically About This Exact Topic” bingo card and boy is fandom hideously boring and predictable in that regard.