#that totally only consists of one person now apparently

[marzipanilla]

They coulda still had all the overarching stories but with their new character development from the show! They coulda !

I can sit there and try and justify everything, Oliver is an alien (true!), compassion and empathy are different things, it would be neat to see an actual portrayal of a character who lacks empathy and must learn to operate with compassion- except if Oliver gave zero fucks about life, why does he give a shit about being a hero? What is his motivation at all for stopping 'bad guys' if he thinks life is worthless/meaningless? It's like every time I try to apply nuance to the situation I'm just left with more questions about why the fuck the situation is that way at all. All surrounded by the singular question, why does he give a single flying fuck about Nolan.

FR ! Like, I get that in some capacity you are Tired, Mark, but quite frankly- most of the time- the world should operate without you operating as a hero. Cecil would arguably dial back on stalking your life if you took a break from heroing (since it is apparently such a fucking burden??) and just focused on your brother. Let guilt build up in him that way! I took a step back because people didn't trust me, but now maybe there were things I could have stopped! What would it have been like for Immortal to have to come to Mark for help with something ??? What if they tried to guilt trip him bc he wasn't helping only for him to snap that helping wasn't making them happy either and now not helping is getting the same result! It's like S1 almost set him up for the whole Superman-esque morality, and then everything after has sort of failed to live up to that. Mark doesn't seem to have a very consistent moral compass, though I can definitely see people arguing his fight with Cecil is an extension of that compass, except the entire thing feels self-sabotagy and perfunctory on Mark's end. If he is desperate for black and white morality after what his dad did, portray it more??? His whole response to what his dad did IS very personal and self-centered and has nothing really to do with right or wrong, he is just determined not to be viewed the same way!

And I get not wanting to be viewed as a murderer! Very understandable! But what are your stances on helping people?? is it truly just guilt ?? Everyone who does anything bad ever should go to prison forever IS a very young concept of justice, and he IS a teenage boy! So where is his breakdown over needing to go to prison! Mark can acknowledge nuance, sometime, so is his moral compass just, if I fight someone they must go to prison bc I am right?? When did he ever have an opinion on right or wrong?? His only stance on anything is apparently, don't kill ppl, which is wild bc pretty much ALL the heroes of this world are shown very offhandedly killing people very casually. (Immortal throwing a man into space in ep1 anyone...) so like. His no kill ideology is very much tied into what his dad did. idk. I can talk myself into circles trying to sort out whatever the fuck is going on there. and then I'm just going in more circles lol

Immortal waiting for the actual threat to be gone before he has an opinion is wild xD And after you shook his hand and acted like you were totally cool w him after the seqid shit too. His consequences shit STILL gets me. Sir. You actively quit heroing bc you felt sad then invited your own ass back. Where was your sense of responsibility then? Your concept of CONSEQUENCES? You're allowed to take yourself off the board, potentially contributing to the death of countless civilians since this world apparently can't do shit unless there's at least one superman-figure present, but no one can call you out for that? If it is such a damn honor and privilege to be a Guardian why are you walking away from it?

Nolan having zero social concept of interacting with people in a 'I am not here to rule you way' arguably makes SOME sort of sense (god I still can't fathom what his thought process was there, like sir, they STILL know where you are, even if you won on Thraxa everything would still suck), but Immortal?? bruh?? you lived how damn long and somehow you came to the conclusion being an authoritarian was good??

Allen annoys me not bc he falls flat as a comedy relief char (and admittedly I'm also just not a Seth Rogan fan so when I hear his voice I just go -.-) but bc he gets to magically become strong and impossible to kill. Just like Oliver suddenly being so strong after having powers for .5 seconds, it just becomes- what's the point of Mark putting in effort if literally every character around him doesn't have to??? His effort isn't even rewarded! He's still getting his ass beat by a low stakes S1 villain! And then people bring up the whole Mark is holding back thing, and then that all collapses back on itself bc, then where are his guilt trips when he loses it. Not to mention you literally could have just flown through the Pauls to grab Rex and not wasted time punching their heads offs? Again, sir, you are indestructible battering ram who can fly to the moon and back in seconds. Who cares about your sudden lack of punching power despite that supposedly being the thing you've improved on, I need you to start moving faster.

Mark agreeing to go hang out on a beach w Debbie instead of refusing and the beach is Beach City (am now officially thinking too much about this crossover lol)

The way I got caught up on our back and forth I almost forgot this, lol! AND OH MY GOODNESS, IMAGINE? I forget exactly what which point Debbie makes the beach offer, but I’d love when exactly in SU/SUF-timeline they’d go? There’s something so fucking funny to me about them going during the SUF-timeline and always narrowly missing the strange, Steven-shaped mental breakdowns in the back. I know those don’t occur in a single day, but it’s tickling me. How could they miss anything? I don’t know I just think it’s funny.

Though, post-SUF is interesting if Gems can see the similar “world on your shoulders”, Mark has going on! Steven can shunt the narrative in the Gems’ minds, which I think is neat, if I’m not misusing the phrase since the guy’s on the road far away. Or maybe it’s just before Steven goes and they stumble into each other. I’d kinda love Pearl and Debbie interacting, honestly, if they could talk about loving someone who hurt you, hide things from you, even when you thought you knew them so deeply, and they left you to raise a child. Pearl being in a well adjusted space, and Debbie still grieving.

Honestly, the gems could help train Mark, they’re got experience and similar-ish powers in strength, sturdiness, and they can jump/run fast enough for flying to be vaguely similar enough to lecture about, I think. Or Lapis Lazulis, haha! Peridot with her trash can lid! Garnet, I’d love to see if she told Mark anything about his future in vague, well meaning advice. Or even giving relationship advice considering Amber. Or, importantly, how to convince an entire reign to end their colonizing ways, lol. Is Mark perhaps willing to start a war, take advantage of being related to any leaders, or fake his own death to varying results?

In general, there’s something so fucking funny to me about Nolan, in the sake of comparison, being Pink Diamond coded. Like OH, did an important or well respected of the colonizing empire come to earth and learn the beauty of its people and nature, including faking/lying/omitting things about his identity and background to being in, only to feel conflicted when his responsibility still remained, and he tried to free himself from them? Yikes! We’ve been through that before! Like gimme Pink Diamond and Nolan outfit swap rn. This is tickling me so much oh my goodness.

[wishchip106]

just thought of a random rarepair

Erik Lehnsherr x Charles Xavier (X-men)

i know they’ve totally never interacted whatsoever but HEAR ME OUT ✋😧🤚‼️ they seem compatible yknow…

might call them cherik… maybe i’ll workshop that who knows…

anyways yay or nay?

[guttedwhxre]

─ 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ❞ multiple slashers

UNDER THE CUT: bo sinclair, michael myers, billy loomis & stu macher

tw: reader death ment, violence, torture ment

author's note: photo courtesy of @/pngsnail <3 also, hi everyone! i missed you, did you miss me?

michael is one of the most particular of the slashers, and dating him means you must be able to handle his peculiarities. this requires patience and resilience to do so, losing your temper would only result in pissing him off. michael won’t have quarter for being patronized and demeaned, not anymore. a pissed off michael typically means a deadly michael — but your death won’t be immediate. he’ll toy with you, gradually making your life worse and worse. he’ll allow you to keep blowing up at him, snap at him, until one night michael ends it all, for good. as you look up at him while you bleed out on the floor, cursing him under your breath, he’ll slowly don his mask, and leave you there without a second thought. 

while he won’t allow a bad temper, or disrespect of any kind, michael is surprisingly lenient about you boundaries. as long as you’re firm, and gentle he’ll let it slide. in fact, he almost encourages it. in his own, twisted way. again, michael will push you in small ways until something is done about it. here you can blow up, or collect yourself and gently, yet firmly tell him what he’s done wrong and ask him to stop. that’s only the first part however, as you have to consistently keep these boundaries, or michael will push, push, and keep pushing. 

don’t let him threaten you. he’s not actually trying to kill you when he holds his blade to your neck, no, just testing you. even if you’re into that, you have to be able to differentiate between play time, and a test. once you know that’s he’s testing you, cut him off there. ask that he doesn’t put his knife to you outside of play time, and he’ll slowly drop the knife from your neck, tracing it down your front as he tries to initiate play. however, if you let him press the cold steel into your neck, sit still as his gaze rests on his knife and your supple flesh - he’ll stop there, for now. then another day, when he comes home, he’ll “accidentally” cut you with his knife, watch as you rush around to clean and cover up the wound, gently asking him to be more careful next time. more little “accidents” will follow, each one more life-threatening than the last, and it’ll become more apparent that michael is toying with you. he just wants to see what will happen! just because you let him each time, he wants to see your breaking point. if that ends in your death, well, michael still got what he wanted. to see you break. 

to be clear, michael isn’t very picky about what kind of person you are. just stay consistent, keep your boundaries and make them clear, don’t be a pushover, then you and michael will be very happy together.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

bo is a simple man. at least, that’s how he’d describe himself. he describes his ideal mate as the perfect house-spouse kind — docile, quiet, stays out of the way. but that is far from the truth. someone who submits with no questions asked, all of the time, would bore him. nah, bo sinclair needs someone to match his temper, his fire, not take any of his bullshit. when he blows up, shouts, you need to be able to stand your ground, and sometimes shout right back. it surprises him being challenged, excites him, even. go ahead baby, put him in his place. 

like with michael, constantly shouting and losing your temper at bo wouldn’t be the best idea. it wouldn’t result in your death, just a constant, toxic cycle of fighting and making up. it’s not fun, nor is it worth the exhaustion. you have to be able to know when to fight fire with fire, and when to back down and let bo do his thing. 

bo, to be totally honest, isn’t the kindest guy. he puts on a front for the tourists, sure, but that’s just that – a facade. to be with bo sinclair, you have to have tough skin. he’ll throw more than one insensitive comment your way, about your hair that day, your complexion, hell your weight, even if it’s not intentional. he’s never had to hold his tongue before, why would he now? you’ve gotta stand up for yourself, or else the comments will keep coming, and probably worsen over time. 

all of the sinclair brothers have been through a lot, and it’s affected them in different ways. but for all of them, bo especially, empathy will go a long, long way. take into consideration why he lashes out the way he does and be able to understand why. you don’t have to excuse his actions, just be able to tolerate them, and of course — stand up for yourself. 

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

with billy and stu, you’ve gotta be able to take a joke. a lot of jokes, at that. at your expense, the expense of others, billy and stu have absolutely NO filter and that won’t change when you’re around. be happy it doesn’t! it means they trust you. billy is meaner than stu by a longshot, so be prepared for them to take shots at you. to get them to stop, or at the very least let up a little, go at them right back! joke back or tell them to fuck off, either works. just avoid the topic of mommy issues unless you want a knife to your neck in a not fun way. 

you don’t need something super special to make them interested in you — just be you. do your own thing, mind your own business, be content with yourself. that kind of casual confidence is enthralling, and if one of them picks up on it, trust me, the other will know shortly after. 

gotta be okay with a little kick-back every once in a while — stu likes to party and billy is just fine tagging along, so that means you have to be too! stick to one of them the whole party if you need, though i don’t suggest it as it can very well lead to semi-public sex. unless, sweet thing, that’s exactly what you’re looking for — then be my guest!

stu is handsy. incredibly so. he needs to touch you often, so you’ve gotta be okay with physical contact frequently. he can’t help it! you’re so precious and touchable it makes his heart melt (and his cock hard). if you say no one too many times he’ll tattle on you to billy, which nobody wants — least of all you. billy is fiercely protective of both of you, and stu knows how spoiled he is. he will surely use that to his advantage, even if it’s to your detriment. 

billy often takes the lead when it comes to the three of you, and stu gives up control willingly, eagerly even. you don’t have to be as excited about it as stu is, but it’s best to hand control over day to day decisions to billy. he gets a little bitchy if you don’t, and no one wants a bitchy billy. just whisper to him that he knows best, that’s he’s so strong and capable…and then maybe you can slip a little suggestion in, and he’ll take it. since you’ve been so good…so yes, they’re both very susceptible to seduction.

billy and stu just want you to be you. if you can accept them at their ugliest, most carnal, real selves, they will gladly accept you.

xoxo, babe 💋ྀིྀི

[pikahlua]

Ahhh I meant to ask, if you do end up giving thoughts on the leaks, I would LOVE to know your thoughts and this epilogue’s endings for bakugou (obviously!) and ochako as well.. in detail pls hehe

Everyone and their dog apparently wants my thoughts on the chapter, and I have to say I just don't wanna give them in the detail people seem to crave. Look, the chapter is meh. It's just meh. There are some cute things that happen in it and it seems that's at the expense of consistency in the story. They clearly didn't think about the things they were implying hard enough. Oh, Izuku and Ochako just didn't fucking interact for 8 years after high school but NOW Izuku wants to talk more? What about Ochako's school program with children that seems RIGHT UP Izuku's alley? They're both practically pursuing the same thing but apparently never breathe each other's air. Despite not thinking about each other for literal years apparently they're still attracted to each other, which, why? What are they attracted to? They're entirely new people now, they're meeting as adults with quite a few years missing between them? Oh, here's the rankings but also we're gonna give a throwaway line about how they're volatile and useless bUT STILL WE'RE GONNA GIVE YOU THEM. THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING ACTUALLY BUT HERE THEY ARE. Okay let's just imply Himiko is going to be Ochako's voyeur for life.

But worst of all is the weird idea that this is somehow the logical conclusion of the story that came before it. A conclusion should cap off the themes of its story and MAYBE introduce a new question to ponder. The story should LOGICALLY lead to the conclusion. But this conclusion basically turns around and says "Things change when you're an adult. You'll be a totally different person and maybe have new dreams. Except also you may not. Life is normal and boring and dreams sometimes die." What? WHAT????? Where's the theme of service to others? Where's the theme of heroes inspiring the next generation? Why are we implying heroes who are too good at their job will force their job to become unnecessary and die out but then try to prove no wait heroes are still necessary because sometimes people get weird urges to steal cars? What? Whatttt??? So heroes just exist now to be the quirk police basically. This is what all those kids were growing up to be? That's a weird implication after a whole story where the entire adult generation showed a VERY DIFFERENT AND MORE ADMIRABLE BRAND OF HEROISM (except for those that didn't, which was far more interesting than whatever this is). So the future of heroes AND villains is banality? Petty useless shit?

This is why 430 was such a good ending chapter. It DID showcase heroism in a mundane setting that actually had meaning and impact and inspiration. It made Izuku's adult life look like a fulfillment of his dream just in a new way.

In 431, Katsuki Bakugo is the only major character that shows a connection to the story that came before. He's the only one that still dreams of heroism and unity and inspiration, and he still thinks about who Izuku is deep down and resolves to save him from his stupidity AND SUCCESSFULLY DOES IT. He's the only one that resembles the heroic ideal that All Might supposedly instilled in everyone's hearts. MAYBE Ochako does too, but it's for a brief flash and then suddenly we're back on the mundane train (pun not intended) in a bad way.

And Shouto. Shouto can stay because he's the only character who PROPERLY introduces the question of "more to a hero than heroism" in the ending as a conclusion that introduces a new question, but it just...doesn't lead anywhere. I could see a potential path for that to have led the chapter somewhere meaningful, but it didn't.

So I maintain Katsuki is standing there watching on as the only character thinking about how the fuck to inspire people to be heroes again.

In summary, if I consider this the actual conclusion to the whole story, it's ass. I don't want it. It's useless and almost condescending. It's like the chapter is shaming me. How dare I enjoy the 430 chapters that came before, how dare I dream and feel inspired, how dare I expect anything of the concept of "hero" introduced by All Might and then the next one introduced by Izuku? But if I consider it an extra DLC bonus omake what-if didn't-think-too-hard-about-this-I'm-just-spitballing-and-having-fun-or-whatever side comic, fine, whatever, the mundane banality it wants to be succeeds, because I'm bored and I'm ignoring it. I'll have fun with it in fanfic maybe if I feel like it, but I ain't tying this shit into the themes of the actual MHA story. It doesn't belong there.

If that all sounds like more than you bargained for with your ask, it's because I received 30 other asks all wanting me to expand on these points, and so I decided to consolidate them all here. It's just too many asks for me to respond to individually. If I don't answer your ask, random anon reading this, it's because I consider your ask answered well enough.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

So like, it's okay to be good and nobody is born evil and anyone can change the path they're on, yadda yadda yadda, but I actually think one of the biggest lessons Megamind learns over the course of the film is the shocking revelation that actions have consequences.

I'm not even kidding. When you put aside the whole 'evil' thing, one of Megamind's biggest flaws is his entirely screwed up notion of cause and effect.

Like, the whole reason the plot happens is because it apparently never occurred to Megamind that 'carrying out elaborate plots to kill Metroman' could ever result in 'dead Metroman'. Nor that creating a new hero with the specific motivation of defeating him, Megamind, could lead to negative consequences for him, Megamind. Or that riling said hero up into a murderous rage could have the unforeseen consequence of that hero raging around murderously.

Dude spent at least a few years kidnapping Roxanne, threatening her with alligators and lasers and various other villainous knick-knacks, only to disguise himself as somebody else and lie to her until she fell in love with this fake identity he'd created and is genuinely shocked when she is upset upon finding this out.

Not just that she did find out, but that post-her finding out he is unable to talk her into continuing the relationship.

“We don't judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance… we judge them based on their actions.”

“Seems kinda petty, don't you think?”

Megamind may be a genius when it comes to inventions and evil plans, but he's a fucking idiot when it comes to predicting and anticipating the obvious results of his actions.

And thing is, it makes total sense why he would be like that.

He spent his childhood being consistently punished by the adults in his life, often for no reason that he could understand or even for no reason at all. As a result, he stops viewing punishment as a consequence of his behaviour and starts seeing it as a consequence of him being 'evil', which of course leads to him leaning into his evil persona and eventually becoming a supervillain.

And, as a supervillain, ironically enough, he's completely sheltered from consequence by his greatest enemy, Metroman.

Megamind doesn't need to worry about his evil plans hurting any citizens, because Metroman will use his powers to save them. Megamind doesn't have to worry about the damage he does to the city, because Metroman can fix it.

Megamind does in theory have to worry about social consequences for his behaviour, but the social consequences are being locked in prison and having everybody hate him which is like, the default status quo of his existence since he was a baby.

He literally calls the prison as 'home', a word he does not use to refer to his Evil Lair or indeed anywhere else in the film barring his home planet. Going there is an inconvenience, maybe, but it's not really a punishment. It's where he lives.

Metroman's 'death' changes all that.

Not only does one of Megamind's evil plans finally destroy something that (seemingly) can't be fixed, but he's then turned loose on the city with no superhero to run around after him cleaning up his mess.

Now, if he steals all the artwork in the gallery, then Metro City will no longer have artwork in it's gallery, and people (Roxanne) will miss it and be upset. If he doesn't take care to clean the streets then the streets… will be dirty, and people (Roxanne) will be negatively affected.

If he gives a random, unstable, person superpowers and then goes out of his way to piss that person off, then that person can't be guaranteed upon to “play the game” just because that's what Metroman did, and people (Megamind… then everybody else) will be negatively affected.

And the flipside of this is that, by the end of the film, he wins the battle because he realises "hey, I can change this". If his negative actions have negative consequences then he can choose to do the positive thing instead and save the city.

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore. 

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two. 

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you. 

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look. 

“I have a name, you know.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.” 

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship. 

“The Going Merry?” 

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours. 

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!” 

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh. 

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.” 

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below. 

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky. 

“You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away. 

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself. 

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon. 

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.” 

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.” 

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.” 

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.” 

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.” 

“Yeah, but I know swords.” 

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.” 

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.” 

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?” 

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.” 

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.” 

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.” 

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area. 

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?” 

You snorted. “No.” 

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?” 

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.” 

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.” 

“Was that a question?” 

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?” 

Zoro actually smiled at that. 

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?” 

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.” 

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was. 

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh. 

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck. 

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength. 

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack. 

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.” 

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you. 

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.” 

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.” 

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him. 

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted. 

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.” 

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect. 

“He’s good, huh?” 

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.” 

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.” 

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?” 

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.” 

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.” 

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?” 

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth. 

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?” 

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.” 

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.” 

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?” 

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.” 

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.” 

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?” 

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled. 

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!” 

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.” 

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut. 

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.” 

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted. 

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet. 

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table. 

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him. 

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.” 

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets. 

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?” 

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.” 

“You don’t know why?” 

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking. 

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring. 

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies. 

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch. 

Just your luck. It was Zoro. 

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water. 

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties. 

Zoro was avoiding you. 

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates. 

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment. 

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him. 

“You’re avoiding me.” 

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.” 

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.” 

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes. 

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it. 

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?” 

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.” 

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—” 

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?” 

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her. 

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy. 

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?” 

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered. 

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.” 

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.” 

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!” 

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.” 

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look. 

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.” 

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded. 

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark. 

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry. 

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts. 

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you. 

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso. 

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will. 

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw. 

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you. 

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points. 

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you. 

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck. 

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said. 

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.” 

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?” 

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap. 

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?” 

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms. 

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.” 

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.” 

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.” 

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?” 

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?” 

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.” 

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered. 

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside. 

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest. 

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.” 

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least. 

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.” 

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze. 

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow. 

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?” 

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side. 

“You know a lot.” 

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn. 

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?” 

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned. 

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?” 

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.” 

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?” 

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.” 

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.” 

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright. 

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle. 

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again. 

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch. 

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh. 

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.” 

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them. 

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.” 

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.” 

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat. 

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?” 

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.” 

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.” 

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.” 

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection. 

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut. 

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.” 

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.” 

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else. 

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest. 

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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© halfvalid 2023

[its-time-to-write]

hi i love your work.

can i get touch deprived reader with jamie or roy

you totally can! It just comes at the low, low cost of way more words than you bargained for. Fair warning, Jamie isn’t even introduced for a good solid chunk of the first half. I also have been touch deprived so this is based on personal experience lol.

I feel like I let this get away from me in the same way the Vienna fic got away from me😂

sinking into your worn out mattress

It’s the same routine every day.

Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, make dinner, fall asleep, repeat.

It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. You’re nothing if not efficient, maximizing your time to the best of your abilities. It’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, but you enjoy it. You’re lucky enough to be working on your supervision hours under a renowned psychologist, Dr. Fieldstone in London, and it’s paid. Over half the people in your cohort are struggling through unpaid internships and juggling a second job just so they can make ends meet. You’re all propelled forward by the promise of better pay as soon as it’s all over, dreaming of the days you can own your own practice.

You’re not even sure how you landed this internship, as Dr. Fieldstone rarely ever takes on interns. (She’d tell you later it’s because she saw the same potential her supervisor saw in her.) But you have it, and you’re now assisting her in her on-location therapy to various sports teams. You’d been at a rugby club for a few months, but now it’s time to move on. Dr. Fieldstone was asked to come back to a previous club and although she’d never admit it, you know it was her favorite group to work with. It’s the only club who’s picture is on her desk. It makes you smile every time you see her surrounded by a rowdy-looking group of footballers and two very American coaches. She had said that the one with the mustache was no longer at the club, but the bearded one still was along with the angry looking man to the side and the short, grey-haired man.

You’ve seen the photo so many times that you have everyone’s faces memorized. You’re secretly excited to meet the team that made Dr. Sharon (in her colleagues’ words,) loosen up.

You weren’t friends, with Dr. Sharon, never once dropping the “doctor,” that preceded her name, but she would occasionally swing by your standard housing with a bottle of wine after a particularly difficult day. 

“This job can be emotionally draining,” she’d say. “I always wished I had someone there for me at the beginning.”

She rarely smiled or showed outward affection, but you understood that this was her way of saying she cared. 

But now you’re packing up your flat into your car, and headed to your new quarters in Richmond, London.

—

It’s apparent that Dr. Sharon has a strong connection with the players. There are a small few who allow you to run each session, most preferring to stick with who they know. Your days are mostly filled with analyses and treatment plans, with about two real session a week, one with Rojas, D and Maas, J. You don’t even sit in with Dr. Sharon much anymore, as the thought of an observer makes some of the players uncomfortable.  

It’s stressing you out.

How are you supposed to fulfill your hours when you can’t even get consistent sessions?

Dr. Sharon, in her limited kindness, refers you to a friend of hers in town. 

“She runs a small practice and works mostly with women. You’ll be able to keep your housing and fulfill your hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You look at her. “Right,” you reply, “because you’re going to have so much time to help me out between all the things you’ve got going on.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Listen. Since you’re not my intern, I can become your therapist. I’ll even give you a discounted rate since you’re still interning. We’ll set up weekly sessions. You’ll be fine.”

You’re still not sure. Dr. Sharon can see the apprehension in your face. “Alright,” she says. “If you schedule our sessions in the evening and cook dinner, I’ll do it for free. It’ll be informal, one therapist to another.”

That’s big. She rarely does anything for free. In a moment of boldness, you say that to her face.

She cracks the tiniest smile. “It’s possible that I’ve grown fond of you. And even more possible that I’m addicted to your cooking.”

Huh. You suppose miracles do still happen.

—

Sharon is over for dinner for the third time in a week, and you’re suspicious that she might actually enjoy spending time with you. You’re laughing about some stupid story that happened during a natural environment observation (it involved a slip n slide, an obscene amount of shaving cream, and footballs being thrown at players heads) when out of nowhere you feel tears slipping down your face.

“Oh my gosh” you say while maybe laughing, maybe crying, “I think I’m broken.”

Sharon (she insisted you drop the “doctor,”) asks, “Are you alright?” and you shrug while you begin full-on sobbing.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you say between gasps. “What the actual heck.”

At that, Sharon grins. You’re retaining some element of your humor, despite actually crying.

“Just go on and fucking swear already,” she says. “I think we’re past a truly professional relationship.” 

You shake your head. “No!” you say. “No, my mum wouldn’t like it.” Fresh tears start to fall at the mention of your mum. Sharon is actually concerned now.

“I’m not sure you’re alright,” she says, and you shoot her a no duh look. “Let’s discuss what might be the root of your issue. Have you been feeling differently lately?”

You’re wiping your eyes and trying so hard to get it together. You’re not even sure what your problem is. You were pretty sure you were doing fine, but you think back to your week. It had been pretty standard, nothing out of the ordinary. You shake your head.

“There is nothing too small to mention. Anything out of your usual routine? Physical discomfort, emotionally-draining sessions?” Sharon asks.

“No,” you reply, tears almost under control. “Wait. Yes.”

Sharon looks at you expectantly. “God, this is going to sound dumb.”

She reaches out to pat your hand. “There’s no such thing as too dumb,” she says in her therapist voice. 

The gesture is so much like something a sister would do. 

“Right,” you say. “Ok. My, um, the insides of my elbows like, hurt? They just feel weird, I don’t know. It started two weeks ago I think and usually I can just pinch them and it’s fine, but that’s the only thing I can think of, I guess.”

Sharon has gone full therapist, and is giving you an analytical look. “Hm,” she says. “Tell me more.”

You shrug. “There’s not much to tell. It’s not like painful, it just feels weird. I hug my pillow when I sleep and that also helps. Um, I push up my sleeves so they go around my elbows and the pressure helps.”

She asks, “When was the last time you saw a friend?” and you can’t think why this is relevant. But you also can’t remember.

“Probably since before I moved,” you say.

“And when was the last time you saw your family?”

You begin to see where she’s going.

“God,” you groan. “I’m an idiot.”

Sharon laughs. “Do you see why it’s so difficult for therapists to self-diagnose? We’re so busy trying to save the world that we forget to save ourselves.”

“But it’s so stupid,” you say. “It’s like, one of the most basic forms of self-care.”

Sharon shrugs. “Touch-starvation is a real thing. It manifests itself in different ways and apparently yours manifests itself in your elbows.”

It’s so ridiculous that you laugh. She does too, and reaches out to squeeze your arm. “I’ll be more mindful of it,” she says. “In the meantime, you need to find yourself some friends. Some people your own age. I’m prescribing you at least two nights out a week.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “I don’t even know where I would go. Or how to meet people. Or what to say!”

“That’s the problem with us therapists,” Sharon says. “We’re really best in a clinical setting. Shouldn’t be let out of the house, really. How about this; next time Richmond has some group event, you come. They’re a rowdy bunch, around your age, too. It’s an incredibly healthy environment, and you’ll be easily accepted. It will be a nice gateway to having a social life. There’s a match this weekend and they’re almost guaranteed a win, so keep your calendar open.”

You open your mouth to protest but Sharon holds up a hand. “I’m prescribing this as your mentor, not as your friend. It will be a healthy change of pace, I promise.”

—

Seeing AFC Richmond in person and off the pitch is like an out-of-body experience. 

You’re putting names to familiar faces, and getting a crash course on their personalities. 

You know Dani and Jan Maas from your short stint as their counselor, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to introduce you to everyone else. Dani is holding your elbow to guide you around to all sorts of people, and you can physically feel the serotonin production in your brain. 

You meet Higgins and his wife, the hosts of this barbecue as well as some of their children. It’s hard to miss them because they keep coming up to shoot Dani and Jan with nerf guns. They’re weirdly prepared, pulling out their own from thin air. 

“Don’t worry,” Jan says, “We’ll defend you.”

It’s very much like a large family gathering. You meet Richard, who kisses your hand and comments on your beauty. Zoreaux, who smiles and asks if you want anything to drink. Bumbercatch, who asks if you can read minds. And finally, Roy and Keeley who are standing in the kitchen and definitely were not kissing right before you walked in.

“This is one of our coaches,” Dani beams. “He and Keeley are very much in love, but they will not admit to  each other, least of all themselves.”

Roy says, “Oi!” while Keeley blushes. Jan shrugs.

“It’s true,” he says. “There is no point in dancing around it.”

“Fuck off!” says Roy, and Jan and Dani are saved from certain death by head-butt as Keeley steps between them and says, “It’s nice to meet you! We’re so glad you could come,” and wraps you in a tight hug.

She’s small, but she’s strong. You have trouble breathing for a moment in the best possible way.

“Heard you work for Dr. Sharon,” she says. “That’s got to be fucking difficult.”

You laugh. “Yeah, but not in the way you’d think,” you say. “I’d already sold my soul to my education long before I met her. She’s actually trying to help me get it back.”

Keeley grins. “Is that why you’re here then? To reinstate your soul?”

You’re cut off from replying by the appearance of someone new. This one is in Sharon’s picture too, standing in the middle slightly to the left and smiling with the tip of his tongue sticking out. You always thought he seemed like one who looked so happy and carefree because he actively chose to be that way.

“Who’s reinstatin’ their soul?” he asks, squeezing in between Dani and Keeley.

“This one here,” Keeley replies. “You met her yet? She’s Dr. Fieldstone’s protégé.”

“Oh,” you say. “No. Not really. I was just doing my internship with her, but I had to move because…” you hesitate.

“Because no one wanted to talk to her except me and Jan,” Dani helpfully fills in. 

Jan adds, “They were all intimidated by the fact that she is close to their age and so beautiful, as well stuck in their ways of having Dr. Sharon. Only Dani and I were willing to give her a chance, and she actually helped me through some important life decisions.”

You had? It hadn’t seemed that way at the time. You feel less crappy about your time at Nelson Road, though. It wasn’t like they didn’t like you, they just preferred to stick with what they know. That, you can understand.

“Mint,” Jamie says. “So you ain’t the team’s shrink anymore?”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Fucking observant, you are. She hasn’t been around in fucking ages.”

Jamie shrugs. “I was just checking!” he says defensively.

You smile. “It’s alright,” you say. “I’m sure you’re busy, and there’s always a lot of people coming and going.”

That seems to surprise Jamie. Almost as if he isn’t used to people defending him. You file his reaction away in your brain, adding it to your collection of knowledge about the football team that made Sharon zip across England for.

—

It’s been two and a half hours, and you’ve have more food and laughter than you’ve had in ages. Dani and Jan Maas had left your circle in the kitchen a while ago, fulfilling their promise to chase around the youngest Higgins boys as well as Roy’s niece Phoebe, and another girl who’s name you didn’t catch. Sam has joined your group now, and he and Jamie are funny together in a way that reminds you of your brothers. They’re constantly ragging on each other, teasing Roy, and throwing things.

Jamie, it seems, is the comedian of the group. You can tell he’s showing off, presumably because there’s a new face. When it’s time to eat, he says, “Stick with me, love, that way you don’t get stuck next to some uncultured animal,” even though Sharon is there and you’d be fine to sit with any of the boys.

But, he’s already grabbed your hand and is pulling you to a spot near Roy and Keeley as Sharon looks on with an amused expression. You send her a single pleading glance (although you’re not sure what you’re pleading for) and she just gives you a shooing motion. She’s happy to sit with Rebecca and her boyfriend. And someone who’s name you’re pretty sure is Coach Beard. 

Ever the gentleman, Jamie pulls out your chair for you before settling into his own. There are tables all throughout the house and a few in the front yard, and you’re glad he picked one outside. It’s a little cloudy, but nice weather.

And god, there are people. People who are talking to you, hugging you, tapping you on the arm and holding your hand, even if it is just to make sure you don’t get separated in the stampede to find seating. Your arms aren’t even a little sore, and you can feel Sharon’s observing eyes on you. You know for a fact she’s going to have a lot to say next time you have dinner, but for now all you can think about is the way Jamie’s arm is pressed against yours, as he leans in to explain a football term that Roy just used to threaten Jamie with.

—

You’re not sure how long this party is supposed to last, but it’s three hours later and there is no sign of stopping. The sun is just barely starting to dip, and time has lost all meaning. You don’t know if the meal you ate was supposed to be lunch or dinner but it doesn’t matter because you’re so full that you can barely make room for the pile of desserts that Mrs. Higgins has pulled out. 

You’ve moved inside now, since Jamie pulled you through the dessert line saying, “You have to come with me, so I can put my dessert on your plate. That way grandad can’t have a fit.” You understand that “grandad” is Roy.

You’re smart enough to notice that Jamie’s hand is in yours at every opportunity he can find, and that he’s still holding it even though you’ve finished your dessert and are flopped on a couch inside. He’s absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb as you chatter on about nothing. 

“Oi,” he says, when you’ve lapsed into silence, “is this alright?”

You’re not sure what he means until he holds up your still-intertwined hands.

“Keeley says I’m more touchy than most. Don’t want to fuckin’ weird you out or some shit.”

You smile. “You’re fine. It’s actually really nice.” You decide to leave it at that. No point in explaining touch-deprivation to the cute footballer you just met. Talk about oversharing.

Jamie smiles back, a real one that lights up his whole face.

“Mint,” he says.

—

“Jamie’s romantically interested in you,” says Sharon’s voice through the phone.

“How do you know that?” you ask. It’s the morning after the Higgins party and you only have a 2pm session. Sharon texted you to call her as soon as you woke up, so you do and she drops a bombshell on the first ring. You doubt Jamie would have told her this himself, as Dr. Fieldstone isn’t one to break a confidence.

“Basic body language,” she replies. “Repeated physical contact, the way his body was angled toward yours all day, the fact that he went out of his way to make you smile. All classic markers of romantic attraction. Any trained therapist should be able to pick up on it.”

What she means is, you’re a trained therapist. You should be picking up on it.

“There’s no way,” you say, but it comes out more doubtful than you’d hoped. 

“Right,” says Sharon, “there’s no way. In the same way that there’s no way I’m only mentoring you because I see myself in you.”

“Oh,” you reply weakly, because that’s a lot to unpack. 

“Oh,” she mimics. “Right. Well. I’ve got to go. Make sure you remember the mental exercises I gave you. Therapists need to take care of their minds too.”

You say thanks and hang up. 

Oh.

—

You’re home again from your session, and you are tired. It was mentally exhausting and all you can think about are the pair of sweatpants in the drawer by your bed and the box of pizza that should be at your flat in fifteen-to-twenty minutes. That was about thirteen minutes ago, and you’ve just been puttering about since placing the call and changing out of work clothes. 

There’s a knock on the door and you say a quiet yes, before hurrying to answer. You open the door to two people on your doorstep instead of one.

“This your pizza?” the delivery boy asks. You nod, thank him, and hand him the money. He’s gone so you acknowledge the other person in front of you.

“How’d you know where I live?”

Jamie shrugs. “Asked Dr. Fieldstone. She isn’t as scary as she looks.”

“And why are you here?”

You place the pizza down on the small table in your entryway. It hasn’t escaped your notice that Jamie is practically standing in your doorframe now, inches away from you.

He wraps his hands in the front of his shirt. “Isaac was telling me about body science,” he says. “Been teaching me how to read people and shit based on how they move.”

You nod. Body language. Yeah, you know a thing or two about that.

“Anyway, he said you thought I was proper fit. Which is good, because I think you’re proper fit. But, just in case he were wrong, I thought I’d come over and give you a chance to tell me.”

His left hand is on the doorframe now, and you can see the top of his tattoo peeking out from under his bright orange hoodie. There is exactly one inch between you two as he slants his body toward yours.

“You can tell me to bugger off, if you want,” he murmurs. “Won’t hurt my feelings.”

You don’t say anything, just stand on your toes the tiniest bit so he has better access to your mouth. 

You can feel his breath when he pulls away.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t come here for sex. Me mum raised a gentleman. I’d buy you a coupla dinners first.”

“Shut up and kiss me already, Tartt,” you say, and he’s grinning, free hand cupping the back of your head.

—

You think that’s probably the fastest you’ve ever gotten into a relationship.

“Labels are important, babe,” Jamie had said that night. “How else will you know if food is poisonous?”

You’re pretty sure he’s talking about checking for allergens, but you don’t correct him. You’re on your couch watching a movie with his arm around your shoulders. He’s playing with strands of your hair and it’s strange that you’re this comfortable with a boy you just met yesterday.

Because he is a boy. You’re the same age, but you feel impossibly, inadequately young. He plays it off as youthful exuberance, and you’re sure it’s an advantage on the pitch. Your age doesn’t feel like an advantage to you, but you can’t change it so you might as well just deal with what you’ve got.

You can be professional in the morning, but right now you’ve got a cute, fit boy who thinks you’re cute and fit and so far has not given off red flags. You’re extra alert ever since your call with Sharon, trying to pick up on every subtlety, but you stop trying as soon as Jamie rolls up a piece of pizza like a burrito and tries to fit it all in his mouth. You know that Sharon would have been the first to tell you if this was a bad idea, and the fact that she even told you Jamie was interested is basically like her giving her blessing.

Jamie leaves too soon, but he does so with your number in his phone and the promise of “a proper date,” as soon as you both can manage.

—

“A proper date,” turned into two proper dates, then three, then four, then seeing each other steadily throughout the weeks, then your first sleepover after the third week. Your skin was all tingly when Jamie invited you over to his for dinner, telling you he was going to cook for you. You knew exactly what was going to happen that night and made sure you were prepared. 

You dressed nice, in clothes that gave him easy access to your skin underneath. 

“Am I rushing this?” you had asked Sharon the day before. “I’m asking you as my mentor. Am I being an idiot?”

Sharon had taken a moment to consider before answering. “You’re smart for your age. And wise beyond your years. I don’t think you’re being an idiot. We can’t let our work consume us, no matter how important it is. You’re a brilliant therapist. You’re always giving yourself away to those around you. You deserve something for yourself, and you know how to pick a good one.”

You hugged her for those words. She seemed startled, but accepted it. You didn’t think life could get much better. 

You were wrong. You discovered life could be so much better the moment Jamie’s hand slid under your skirt and you were kicking off your shoes on the way up the stairs. 

“Stay,” he whispered when you were done. “It’s fuckin’ late anyway. You can use my shower and wear one of my shirts. I have an extra toothbrush. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”

So you’re in one of his t-shirts and your underwear, arms wrapped around Jamie’s waist. 

You think what am I doing? but Jamie presses a soft, sleepy kiss to your temple and you think maybe you’re doing something right.

—

It’s been a hell of a week. You’re swamped, Jamie’s always at training, and neither of you have been able to make the time to see the other in days. Your inner arms are sore again, and your dinners with Sharon have been short and extremely clinical in a way you desperately need. However, once-a-week therapy is not enough to get rid of the feeling you have, and you wake up throughout the night holding your pillow as if it were Jamie. 

You’ve gotten used to having his hand in yours, your head on his shoulder, knees touching and arms wrapped tight around your body. Having it taken away is worse than before, because at least then you didn’t really know what you were missing. Now, you feel as if you’re going to die unless someone does something, even if it’s just a high-five. 

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest as you review case notes. Your food has gone cold because all you can do is cry. You’re so tired and so lonely and it shouldn’t be this way, but it is and you’re just over it. There’s a knock at the door so you wipe your eyes and answer it, hoping you look normal.

It’s Jamie.

The moment you register who it is, you’re launching yourself into his arms, wrapping around him like a spider monkey. He laughs. “Hello to you too,” he says, spinning you around. He stops when he feels you shaking in his arms. 

“Oi,” he says, frowning a little, “you alright, love?”

He can feel tears on his neck.

“Babe,” he says, “did something happen at work?”

You shake your head, face still buried into the crook of his neck. “I just missed you,” you croak, voice muffled.

Jamie chuckles at that. You’re lucky he’s strong, because he’s able to carry you to the couch like it’s nothing, kicking the door shut behind him without losing his balance. He settles with you in his arms, rubbing a pattern on your back. 

“It’s alright, love, I’m here,” he says, and you’ve never been more grateful for the fact that he calls you love more than your actual name. It’s like he’s always reminding you how he feels about you.

You just hold him tighter, letting the terrible feeling you had all week fade away. When it’s mostly gone, you pull away so you can look him in the face.

“I- I have this thing,” you say. Jamie looks concerned.

“Are you dyin’?” he asks.

“No!” you reply. “No, I’m not dying. I have- I’m touch-deprived. I let it get really bad sometimes and then I can physically feel it. You can look it up, it’s a real thing.” You don’t know why you feel the need to defend yourself. Jamie’s just looking at you, all quiet seriousness.

“That what it’s called?” he asks. “I know what you mean. Fucking had it two years ago. Used to egg Roy on just so he’d push me around and the lads’d have to hold me back. Wasn’t near me mum anymore, so I didn’t have anyone to hug me or anything. Sounds dumb, but… I just needed someone to touch me. Like if they didn’t, it meant I didn’t exist. Fucking mental.”

“Mental,” you agree.

Jamie smiles. “You’re the fucking best, you know that?” he asks. “I’m never bored when I’m with you. Came over to see if you wanted to watch a movie or play video games.” 

He’s stroking your cheek with one hand, other still wrapped around your back.

You smile back. “I really, really love you Jamie Tartt. I’ll play video games, I just don’t want to play FIFA.”

Jamie’s smile drops. “Shit,” he says, and you think it’s because you don’t want to play his favorite video game. “You weren’t supposed to say it first, I was. I was gonna tell you tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a big deal, babe,” you say.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a big fuckin’ deal. Now I’ve got to make it up to you.”

“No you don’t,” you say.

“Yes I do,” he replies. “I’m gonna tell you every fucking day how much I love you. I’ll drive home early from away games just to hug you. I want you to always feel like you have the love you deserve.”

You’re at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue, don’t it?” Jamie asks cheekily. “Not a problem, babe. I know how to get it back.”

[little-miss-doe]

The only thing I've learned over the course of Campaign 3 is that the Critter community has difficulty taking consistent and apparent, but occasionally not explicitly communicated, information to come to a conclusion on their own. Or not capable of using provided resources to gain further context for information.

And to be clear ... this has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with Campaign 3 itself, it's plot, it's story, or literally anything contained within the game itself, or what anyone thinks of it.

We are 3+ years into this release schedule in addition to 4 1/2 years total into Critical Role doing nearly exclusively prerecorded content. They methodically share their expected broadcast schedule. They stick to a reliable pattern. They make this information easy to obtain in multiple ways.

It has been my bugbear for years now that, despite all of this, there is always a significant uptick in questions about if there is an episode on Thursdays [this past and current Thursday somewhat not withstanding for obvious reasons] across nearly every corner of Critter space. This has grown notably more common over the years. This really makes it feel like the community attracts people less likely to seek out resources or attempt to discern answers for themselves.

[random ranting under the cut]

The last year has gotten SO BAD with this.

I will see the same person post across 3-4 different social media asking if there's an episode tonight ... even if you're a 1000% noob to CR it would have taken you less time to google Critical Role, click on their home page, and see that their Programing Schedule is in their main page carousel ... than it would take for a rando on the web to answer you.

I will see people that have been in Discord servers for a reasonable amount of time ask if there's not an episode today when the last message posted 10 min ago clearly states it's an off week because it's the last Thursday of the month.

I will see so many people that are not new be confused every time there is a CR cast member doing something 'live' or they are at an out of area event while CR is on or has an episode that night.

And now because of the unfortunate situation with the fires in California I've got a whole new one where apparently people generally didn't notice that when CR puts out their Programing Schedule it's normally accompanied by promo pictures from the upcoming Campaign 3 episode if there is that one that week ... I've had to explain to way more people that I though would need to know this that ... in order for this to happen they have to have filmed that episode before the Programing Schedule is put out on Mondays.

[nothorses]

Hi so I’m a nonbinary lesbian and have been out for well over 6 years. My gender expression has changed a lot over the years and now I’m just. A bit lost. I want to experiment more with masculinity again but I’ve kind of forgotten how to? I’m in a bit of a weird spot where most people around me aren’t trans (except for my roommates) but are of the (very good!) idea that “clothes and attributes aren’t gendered” and dress sort of unisex in as cheap second hand clothes as possible. Some guys have long hair or wear makeup to parties and some women don’t shave etc. But I still feel like most people view me as a woman or woman-lite because even though they’re well meaning and progressive, they’re not really well-educated about transness. And I’m in a long term lesbian relationship and have a lot of hobbies that are more traditionally feminine. My pronouns are they/she but most people use she/her exclusively. I’m starting to feel more and more dysphoric about this after a few years of no dysphoria, but I don’t know how to change things. So yeah do you have any tips on doing masculinity? Or experimenting more with combining gender expressions? I wish I could start t but the trans healthcare in my country is terrible.

ngl a lot of that is so familiar to me- especially the pronouns! It's been a long time since I started to lean more into masculinity from the kind of "I'm not a yucky man lol that would be unfeminist" purgatory I was trapped in pre-transition but post-realizing-i-was-trans-in-some-way (which isn't to imply that's where you're at, that was just my personal journey) but I definitely feel like I resonate with a lot of what you're describing from, like, that specific period in my life.

I think drawing harder lines around how I wanted people to refer to me helped a lot with this, early on. I know a ton of people who have pronouns they use with trans friends that are different from the pronouns they let cis people use; she/they for the people they know will make the effort to use both, but they/them or she/her exclusively for the people they know are unlikely to use those pronouns if they have an alternative. This works with other language as well- but that's all to your personal comfort level!

Outside of that, I think step 1 is really just thinking about what masculinity means to you, and what kinds of masculinity you're interested in or intrigued by. Don't worry too much about figuring out exactly what you want right away- just experiment with whatever seems like it might be fun or comfortable. Think clothes, hair, mannerisms, roles, hobbies and interests; anything you might have denied or been denied because of gendered expectations. There's no one singular way to Do Masculinity, and the goal isn't to start out with a single perfect, consistent way of presenting yourself to the world. You're just playing with things you haven't had permission to play with before!

I also have a lot of "feminine interests", and a big thing for me has been finding masculine role models within those things. In my area it's mostly women who are into horses, and I was the only man on the horseback riding team at my school when I transitioned; but cowboys are totally a thing, and I started leaning into that role pretty early on! We also ended up getting another guy on the team, I think partially because he saw there was at least one other & he wouldn't be the only man there, which was cool (he latched onto me hard, too. it was very funny to me when I mentioned being trans & he apparently had very much not realized that before. I got to watch his worldview shift in real time, lmao)

That one was probably the easiest, though. I've also looked to really positive, loving male teachers in my work in education, and that's been awesome! Sewing & embroidery have been the hardest by far, but I've definitely found plenty of men in both over time. Finding embroidery patterns to try out from gay men depicting masculine-presenting bodies has been especially fun & validating.

I know this isn't the most specific advice, and I'm not sure if you were looking for like, a list of clothes to buy? But honestly this has just been my own journey. I wear what's comfortable and I haven't really changed my interests or hobbies; exploring masculinity has really just meant giving myself permission to engage in things I haven't before, wearing things I feel good in, and looking to others who've given themselves that permission as well for inspiration. I had to be more intentional about considering the masculine-to-me options early on than I do now, but like, it should all be about you and what you're interested in. There are infinite types of guy! I think it's just a matter of figuring out which ones you resonate with and why, and building your own type of guy out of that.

[nalooksthrough]

Pe-Az Canon Analysis

I think before I start making headcanons about the Pe-Az. I should do an analysis on what the show has already told and/or shown us. I'm writing it out because writing helps me form more structured thoughts.

Be warned this is a rather long post.

General

Going to start off with their ship. It's in the shape of a pod because 'peas in a pod' and all that, very goofy. It also glows a bright green leaving behind a small green trail when they travel. Speaking of travel, they don't move in a straight line, they pilot in a zig zag pattern.

They also fly their ship backwards which is a weird choice but okay you do you.

They refer to themselves as an intergalactic peace negotiating team called the Pe-Az. So yeah, Pe-Az isn't the name of their race, it's their team name. Their team consists of a Statistical Leader (top), an Optimism Captain (middle) and a member simply known as The Closer (bottom). Who remains mute until they exhausted all other options. Basically he's their trump card. They are also call each other brother so that's sweet. Siblings working in a intergalactic peace team together.

They say that they have been setting human disputes for centuries (with pictures to prove it) and they personally have helped with 293 negotiations before the events of "Peace of Pizza". And yet somehow out of 293 disrupts they never once came across a person whose lactose intolerant or has an allergy to dairy. In fact they don't even seem to know that it's a thing.

Now I'm not sure if they mean they as in the team or they as in they themselves have been helping settle human disputes over the centuries. The three of them could possibly be centuries old.

Also want to point out that fairies are only present in the 1950 burger fry treaty which makes me think that they have only just recently started to work with them.

They also seem to be overly confident in their belief that pizza is like the key to all negotiations, that it's the universal incentive and that everyone loves Pizza. Which okay sure, good luck trying that with the Yugopotamians.

They are so confident in this fact that they even made an on/off switch for it. Their technology must to insane if they create a device to turn the concept of pizza off (and remove Italy from existence) like that's scary man.

Also they just carry around different types of pizza with them in briefcases, which might just be disguised pizza boxes. Even for non-existing pizzas like ice-cream pizza. Wonder how many other types of pizza they have hidden away?

And I guess if they are being this non descript and vague about what a pizza is than it very well could be the universal incentive.

Their written language has a lot of arrows, lines and dots. Also that's a lot of repeating characters for such a short text. They must not have a big alphabet.

They have rules when it comes to their negotiations! The only one we know of so far is that if someone manages to out negotiate them, they have to go on their side. Even is they don't want to and it ends with the removal of all pizza in the world. They have no choice.

This isn't totally related to my analysis but think it's sweet that even though they are clearly uncomfortable. They were still willing to play video games with Dev or maybe it was just out fear. Dev was the first person to ever out negotiate them. The lactose intolerant child scares them.

Apparently they are monsters and eat their pizza crust first.

They also not only managed to sneak into the Galax institute completely undetected but also none of these parasciencist are even questioning their green colouring at all? What are they even doing there anyway? Are they trying to keep tabs on what the humans know about alien life?

Abilities

Going to start with the one they use the most. Their ability to Assimilate. They can seemly sprout humanoid forms from their sphere bodies and are relatively good at mimicking the human form with only minimal hiccups. And given they are intergalactic peace keepers this most likely extends to other non-human forms as well.

But they can't seem to change their colouration which you think would be a problem but no. No one seems to question them about it, no one even seems to even question where they came from or how they got here. Which makes me think they also have a way to mentally assimilate, not just physically.

I like how even in these forms, they will naturally assume their normal stack positions. They even do it in their proper order (Stat top, Opt middle, Close bottom). They can't help it!

The next ability I'm gonna talk about is their screen projection. Which they can not only use to display written text but also screenshots of what may be their memories but I'm not sure.

At first I thought it was just Opt who could do this. But Stat also does it, so it must be something they can all do.

Another ability which might not even be an ability is their ability to teleport objects. This might just be done with tech since they don't really do this often. But it also has a similar effect to when they display another ability that I will soon mention so I can't fully rule it out.

They can also seemly float/float objects but they can seemly only do this when they are in their true form. Their assimilated forms must take energy for them to keep up or something.

And finally their weirdest and most disturbing ability. The ability to turn living beings into pizza. Which brings to mind the horrifying question of "is this where they get all their pizza from?"

This also shows that while they promote peace, they are willing to use more forceful methods if pushed. So they're not fully pacifistic.

Hello? Sir? What are going to do with that pizza slice? 😥

[a-student-out-of-time]

Thoughts on DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 12

//Hey everyone! So, it's been 17 months since the last episode, which...holy crap, right?

//Now that we've come to the continuation of our story, we have some new things to discuss, and I'm not just talking about what I've said. Instead of just repeating myself again, let's break down what's been happening in this episode and then we can continue theorizing.

I have three big things I want to address in this, which we should consider going forward:

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

The Murder Was Actually WORSE than it seemed

So Charles' point about where they fucked up was about the murder. However, it was about something I don't believe any of us quite considered: that the water from the relaxation room was taken and held for later use. We do have jugs in the trash that prove it's possible.

It's nice to see Teruko admit that she made a mistake and that the time of the murder was wrong, but to me, this meant two things: our murder could've happened at quite possibly any time and it would've been worse than it sounds.

See, death by drowning is already one of the worst ways to die, but if they obtained some jugs of water and used those in the murder, it means that our victim must've been waterboarded to death. Drowning is bad, but waterboarding is an even worse and more horrific way to die. More importantly to this case, it's pretty quick for the culprit.

Without oxygen, you'll experience brain death within 6-10 minutes. Since we now know the murder was set up in advance overnight, this means that all they really needed to do was grab their target, carry out the drowning and then hang the body to break the neck and disguise the cause of death. It could be over in less than 15 minutes.

We also now know that, as we all predicted, the murder likely took place around 7:30-8 AM, not PM, when most people were asleep and only a few were up at breakfast. This has also thrown most everyone's alibis out the window.

Essentially, whomever our victim was, she was murdered via waterboarding and then her body hung up while some people were awake. They cut is so close that the body was still swaying, as Teruko noted. That wouldn't happen just from the fans.

2. What's David Game Plan?

I've made it no secret that I'm not a fan of David, nor do I agree with the view that he's set to be DT's rival. As I've said many times before, Teruko doesn't need a rival like him, since the only challenge he offers her is being an existential threat.

That being said, I both like and dislike what happened with David this episode. It's good to see him not consistently being an annoying troll who evades questions by being a dick, and to actually have something more to say and some actual questions he raises. He's been lying about being Arei's killer, and apparently, that's part of what he considers a noble goal on par with Xander.

David's point in this episode is that he wants to be a "good person" like Xander, which echoes my points in my theory about how that's what this chapter is about: The Meaning Of A "Good Person." Teruko is, understandably, still very bitter and hurt by his betrayal, so she considers that idea laughable. David's point that "I'm sure he had a good reason" actually made me laugh, admittedly.

But what's interesting is he gave us an answer in the form of a non-answer. He claims he believes in something greater than himself and the lives of everyone else in this game, and since they're all on TV, he questions why this would be happening if the people behind it didn't want to make things entertaining. He brings up how Xander wanted to end the killing game and he's been derailing the trial because he says he wants to do the same.

What's frustrating is, as Hu says, David has essentially decided everyone's lives aren't important enough to preserve, so it's better if they all just give up and die to end the game. Xander did not want that, he wanted to end it with minimal casualties. A Total Party Kill is antithetical to everything Xander stood for, so if David is being sincere, he's really spitting in the guy's face.

I'm really curious what exactly he meant by him being the only one who "recognized" him. The thing with J early on proved that some of these people were at least aware of each other pre-game.

But does this mean David is actually a good person with noble goals? What part of "You exist to manipulate others" is not clear? I can't accept that at this point, but here's what I can accept, because it fits in so well with what we've been seeing:

Consider: why exactly did Xander try to kill Teruko? Because someone wanted her dead and somehow convinced him to give it a shot. We know that someone out there wants Teruko dead for whatever reason, and direct attempted murder has failed. What's the next best thing? Convince someone else that she needs to be dealt with.

Remember the secret David got? "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault."

And let's be real: it's gotta be Teruko's. Between everything we've seen, it can't be anyone else. I'm sure David just said it was Xander's because it was easier to blame a dead person.

So let's consider how easy it would be for David to see that secret and then convince himself that Xander not only had the right idea, it really is better to let everyone die if it means Teruko is gone too. I can buy his admiration for Xander could drive him to do something like that if he learned something that horrible about Teruko, and then decide it was all for the greater good.

That, of course, assumes he actually means what he says. I remain convinced that Hu was the one who carried out the killing in his stead, and with the Blackened rule- it's the one who's the "most mastermind-y," not just whoever deals the fatal blow- David's alibi is irrelevant.

"But Bubbles, didn't Hu and Nico say that they have alibis for morning?"

Yes, but I'm also convinced David drove both of them to attempt murder for these very same reasons, first with Ace and then Arei. Either this was a "selfless" act based on his blind hero-worship of Xander that required everyone to be sacrificed, or this is all a selfish act to end the game and escape with his own life. Until someone can independently verify that Hu and Nico have alibis, I can't believe anything they say.

As for why they wouldn't say anything, Hu made a very impassioned speech about wanting to live and that David has no right to decide who should live and die. She is correct, and if her secret is that she was a hopeless child who tried to end it all three times, that actually adds a lot more weight to what she's saying here.

...But at the same time, under the belief that whomever killed would be executed, why would someone who wants to live just admit to being the one who did it? I don't like to consider it, bu Hu's desire to live paradoxically makes her more suspicious in my eyes. At least in being David's patsy.

Oh, and speaking of murder, here's the thing we all called.

3. Levi's Secret

Let's be real: we all probably saw this one coming. In the closing minutes of the episode, Levi admits that his secret is being a remorseless murderer.

Now, where everyone got this wrong is in assuming that, because that's his secret, it means that he must've been the one to kill Arei. That theory can be pretty definitively put to bed because, as I said with Hu, why would a murderer just admit to being a murderer after all this has happened?

Moreover, his point wasn't a confession. He didn't say he was the one who killed her, he apologized for potentially derailing the discussion again, and this was when everyone had hit a dead end in how to progress. If Levi were the Blackened, why would he do that? It would be in his best interest to stay quiet until the very end.

Instead, I think this is where an even stronger point in my favor comes in: Arei really did visit Levi, and they did discuss their secrets, but he didn't kill her. They either collaborated, talked about it or at least made peace about it, since they both came from pretty shitty families and probably found some common ground.

David brought up what it means to be a good person, but Arei and Levi are also great examples. Both have done terrible things and wanted to find redemption from them, Levi with murder and Arei with being a bully. The only reason I can see this being brought up now is because we have yet to hear his or her side of this story, and that could bring us to more important revelations down the line.

//So there you go, my breakdown of this episode. It's answered some questions, pretty definitively ended a couple theories, and raised many more points of discussion. And thankfully now we only have to wait until Friday to receive some more answers : P

[queerespresso]

✨ Kant & Bison ✨

How I perceive their relationship so far. There’s for sure s*xual attraction..lots of it. That was apparent from the moment they interacted at the bowling alley. They were both very okay with it being a ONS. So I don’t perceive their night as a ‘love at first sight’ scenario.

Kant day dreaming about Bison felt like he was reminiscing on a very good night 😏 + maybe a bit of fondness for Bison’s personality. I was talking to a few mutuals about it and I shared in similar feelings that Kant is intrigued by the honesty and push back from Bison. Maybe he isn’t used to it?

♨️💭 The same can be said for in the bedroom. Kant may see Bison’s ability to put him in his place as an indicator that Bison may be capable of meeting that intimacy desire. I’m not sure how much experience Kant has had with his submissive side or if he’s consistently been relegated/more comfortable dominating or not partaking at all in SM with others (which fair if so, as you need trust).

Bison on the other hand, like I said in his personal post, he wants to be seen for himself. Not as an assassin. I think he’s probably lonely. When Kant gives him attention and is clear about wanting to be his boyfriend, that was appealing to Bison. He’s not clueless though. Kant is too smooth with some of his lines which is why Bison rolls his eyes or teases back. Kant is also consistently encouraging intimacy (maybe with multiple motives). It’s possible for Bison, he’s testing to see if Kant’s affection is real by holding off on more intimacy.

Now is Kant’s affection real? In my perception, sometimes. I feel like he’s a bit too smooth and thought out with the lines. I (personally) tend to trust people who fumble a bit more. It is entirely possible he really is just that smooth and confident without preconceived thought. But when he is quick to offer a relationship title to Bison without knowing him well, while having the police pressuring him to find information, it’s hard for me as the viewer to know what’s genuine or not.

For me, the moments where their foreheads are close to touching seem genuine (could be me being a romantic). Like they’re both overcome with their affection, even if it’s a crush or attraction at the moment.

While Bison IS having his “he likes me 🥹” moment right now, it could partially be a reaction to the attention or a crush. He doesn’t have consistent friends with their constant moves and is used to ONS after all. Bison also didn’t leave his phone number after the ONS and he was worried when Kant initially came to the dinner instead of simply happy so I think he’s not totally gone. He only started showing more openness once Kant made his intentions more clear. But of course that means the brat/teasing side came out to play.

I think Bison’s love will grow slowly as they build trust through moments where trust naturally grows: intimacy, trying to win over Fadel, persistently pursuing in spite of the obstacles, prolonged contact, revealing vulnerable information, etc.

I think it’ll be an internal struggle for Kant as he’ll sometimes forgets his mission and slip into his emotions. I truly think Kant will ‘fall’ in love and have oh sh*t 😳 moments. He’ll be very far in eventually and realize f*ck…I love him.

*Disclaimer: I am a bit of romantic but I tend to overthink various perspectives. No worries if you perceive their romance differently 🫶

[laf-outloud]

Hi, I hope it's okay to vent this out here. I'm sorry, I just don't know where I can safely share this opinion and criticism and not get attacked for it so I hope it doesn't have any hate tossed your way if you decide to post this (if you don't, that's totally fine, I understand, I don't want you to get attacked either).

I've admittedly been a fan of Jensen for the last few years, Supernatural longer, but recently more and more my respect and appreciation of him as an individual has been waning. I still appreciate the characters he plays, the shows he's on, him as a performer, but as a person, he has been straight up saying (and doing) some problematic things that have opened my eyes and pulled me out of the stream of blind consciousness known as AA-world. From what happened with prequelgate (which history has now shown just how much of a cash cow it was and how shady he acted about it, this new One Tree Hill show proving this is how the Ackles apparently conduct themselves professionally) to "Bitch Alba" to the way he speaks about his kids sometimes (and that includes Danneel, I'm not a fan of hers but in general, that's how you talk about your wife and mother of your three kids?), the inflating of his ego, the constant adaptation of his demeanor depending on who he's with (Misha and JDM are the worst, he acts like Misha and he always seems to want to impress JDM), "old titties", and now last night. My respect for him was slowly sliding down to the bottom of the mountain of all of these things he's been doing and saying lately, and then it finally flatlined last night.

I'm all for respecting people's political beliefs and even though I can't stand Misha (I have never had a good feeling about that guy even before I found out all of his problematic history in the fandom and how now it's painfully obvious how attention seeking he is), I have to admit that the guy has been consistent when it comes to his politics and taking action. Despite my dislike for him, I do believe he is very genuine when it comes to that particular arena. I saw it in action with the last election for example, so this one didn't surprise me that he got involved with some of the Harris-themed livestreams. Had Jared been there (I have no idea if he was invited, couldn't make it, or what), I do feel that he would have been genuine in his presence there as well as his answers. He's a genuine guy who appears to wear his heart on his sleeve a lot. Mark was very genuine. Jim Beaver, too. Curtis. They all listed why they were there and why they were voting for Harris.

Then there was Jensen. Sigh. To be fair, I didn't see the whole Boys section so perhaps he answered further during that segment if Eric or someone else asked him, but during the Supernatural one...I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing. I'm not defending him (obviously) but I do think nerves played somewhat of a part because he looked a bit uncomfortable, but that still doesn't excuse (in my opinion) how disingenuous his answer was. I can understand the kids part because that absolutely makes sense, but he worded it in a way that made it sound like a) that was the only reason he was voting this way & b) almost as if it was their fault so if anyone got annoyed with him voting for Harris, they're being used as a tool to keep people appeased. Because how can you argue or get mad or disappointed in his choice if he's doing the right thing as any parent would and consider their kids' futures? And here's the thing, I never would have thought that it sounded like a ploy had he not done this previously at cons, when meeting fans, in interviews, etc. He always downplays something he says or does that he thinks is going to be problematic for his fanbase and shifts responsibility in a way that isn't super obvious (except to those of us paying attention and not drinking the AA kool-aid). He may have been aggressive with the whole "hate watch" commentary about TW but he even eventually set up Danneel, the cast, and others to be blamed if it didn't work out. There is ALWAYS one reason or another that he throws up there on why no one should or would ever blame him. So that's why this one, while yes a valid reason (and could be part of the real reason he chose this candidate), it sounded like yet another shield to throw up "don't blame me if you don't like my choice, I have kids and I have to do what's right for them, don't get mad at me" etc.

Then he tries to stall to think of something he can say that's non-specific (and non-committal in my opinion) by making the joke that Mark just listed the many reasons, the several various reasons, everyone is there. That's a copout if I've ever seen one.

Then he says "When you look at the two candidates, there's just no question of who I want to be on the right side of history with." This to me is the most disingenuous of all. Having watched this guy speak publicly the last few years, this reeks of image to me and not genuine endorsement or even concern for the kids' futures he just referred to or about any policies or the direction the country should head in or hope or change or anything. It's about "who I want to be on the right side of history with". Who even says that except someone thinking ahead on how this will affect their image and if they're not on the "right side of history" with? I get it, he's an actor, he has to think about his image in that way and how it will affect his present and future work opportunities, and Misha did indeed corner him by purposely drawing attention to Jensen specifically and asking him that question (to be fair, he wasn't the only one asked during that segment and who answered), but come on. I believed Curtis when he spoke. I believed Jim when he spoke. I believed Mark when he spoke. I even believed Misha (like I said, yuck about the guy, but he is genuine in this one topic). But Jensen saying that just royally pissed me off because to me it was so obvious that he truly doesn't give a shit as to why everyone else is there. (the same guy who has a public platform and could use it for something other than himself or his brewery for example) He was there because of Vought Rising and Soldier Boy being up front and center, because of Amazon Prime and Countdown, and to "be seen". That's it. He wasn't there because he wanted to be an activist like Misha or because he truly believes in Harris or the Democractic party or any politics (except Hollywood's). I know he's been part of political events and discourse before (I forgot how long ago he and Danneel were at that campaign event in Texas after endorsing that candidate and Danneel has spoken about politics before on social media when they lived down there), but this just reeked of "opportunity" to me and not the kind Harris keeps talking about. It was purely self-serving and good PR for him (in his and his team's minds anyway). Why do I believe that? Because he then follows it up with "But for my kids" as the last thing he says on the subject. Once again, throwing that you'd-be-an-asshole-to-question-this-reasoning shield up.

My respect for him as an individual person completely tanked once he finished speaking. Totally, without a doubt, fully disingenuous bullshit answer in my opinion. I'm not saying this because I expect him to be fully committed to his politics or this election or passionate about any of it like someone like Misha for instance. It's not because I wanted to hear him say something different. It's not about his political beliefs or mine or anyone else's. That's not why this was so disappointing (and slightly infuriating if I'm honest) to me. It's because it was more of the same crap from him, just in a different arena. And this election, no matter who you vote for, no matter which party, really matters. I truly believe that. Like any election. Rich celebrities are always trotted out during these times to help sway the vote one way or another, and to be able to tell the hard-working middle class what's best for them while their bank accounts and tables are full, sitting in a cushy house (or mansion) and never having to worry about their kids' education. Because rich celebrities always know what's right for the American people of various economic and living situations as a whole (can you sense my sarcasm here?).

So in my opinion, it's like, if you're going to sign up to do one of these things, then nut up or shut up. Not saying he has to divulge his private thoughts on the matter or go knocking on doors like some, but if you're going to use this for PR and so people can continue thinking "well" of you (and thinking of you period) and everyone around you states something realistic in relation to the event you are there for, then perhaps don't continue your usual bullshit? Perhaps don't make it obvious that you're only there to get PR perks and bonus points with your friends and those who can employ you/are employing you? Don't be so fucking transparent that you don't mind being up front and center in front of the camera for Supernatural (I know he stayed in the back of The Boys one, but I personally think it had to do with Karen and Erin being there, that's not me implying anything about them or him, more like implying something about his image and Danneel, etc) but then looking like you'd rather be elsewhere when the not-a-surprise question is then posed to you of why you're there? And maybe not make some awkward joke about alcohol while you stall for time to think of the most neutral self-conscious image-positive answer you could think of, all while throwing your kids up as a shield?

Maybe you disagree with me and you didn't see his answer that way. Maybe some others might, too, and that's cool if you or any of them do. We should all think for ourselves (I think one of the most important messages to come out of the Supernatural segment of the livestream last night). But for me, it was beyond disappointing that this was yet another confirmation that this guy appears to be full of shit everywhere we turn, and that he thinks all of his fanbase is that stupid and unable to see it for what it is, newsflash: not all of us are AA's, Jensen, some of us actually use that big spongy thing inside our heads). And it's even more frustrating that any other celebrity can be called out for this bullshit ploy online, no matter their wealth or status in the industry, including his castmates on any show, and yet you can't say a fucking word of genuine criticism when it comes to him. Instead, you have to enroll yourself in the Ackles Critic Protection Program and state anything less than a "he's king and she's queen and they can do no wrong ever" mentality anonymously. So, that all being said, I've lost complete respect for him and I'm done being a fan of his. That doesn't mean I hate Dean or Supernatural all of a sudden or any of his work, I can compartmentalize, but when it comes to the actor/individual himself, nope, no more. He can keep his sheeple of a stanbase who will be there to keep swallowing and buying (literally) the bullshit he gives and sells them. I'll be over here, actually using my brain and eyes that were given to me, and I'll head off on my merry way.

I'm truly sorry for the long rant, but that really bothered me last night and put me off of him for good. This is the last time I'm even going to refer to him online. I truly feel sorry for those who can't (and those who won't) see past the image he projects. Maybe that's why most of his fanbase focuses shallowly on his looks most of the time. Perhaps that is a reflection of the individual.

A public persona who likes their private life private is one thing, but this is a whole other in my opinion. Never meet your heroes is very true, but I would add to that never look for any authenticity that doesn't come with a dollar sign or Instagram follower count attached from them either. Extremely disappointing.

Thanks for letting me get that out. Again, if you don't want to post this, I wouldn't blame you. If you do decide to post, I hope no one attacks you for my stated opinion. If they do... 🐑 Enough said. Thanks for listening.

I've had a few people rant in my inbox before. Welcome!

It was easy to see last night who's truly engaged in the process and who isn't. Though, I will disagree about Misha. He may be vocal and consistent, but he's still only doing it for attention and exposure. He even said early on that the reason he got into politics, and then acting, was to be famous.

And while I don't believe everyone has to be as passionate about politics as someone else (I'm certainly not), I do see what your saying about Jensen's appearance. It felt very rehearsed and disingenuous, like he was there simply because Eric's his boss and that it would be good publicity. Frankly, there are other ways to get publicity than attending any event and acting disinterested the majority of the time. The most sincere words that came from Jensen were when he was saying Hi to Cory Booker.

As for his politics, there's only one time I saw a genuine interest from Jensen and that was when he supported a bill that would help his brewery. I don't expect him to share his politics with the world, but if he's going to attend a political rally event, he should at least act more interested than what we saw. He is an actor, after all.

[jewish-vents]

Being ethnically Jewish, adopted by goyim, and only connecting to my heritage and my culture as an adult was hard enough considering I became an adult in 2016. Since then my dad has become a full-blown conspiracy theorist, Trump supporter, and rabid Islamophobe. He's gotten involved in this weird offshoot of Evangelicals who think nothing bad can happen to "the Jews" (he NEVER calls us Jewish people, or people at all) so according to him there is no rise in antisemitism. Things have been like this forever. There is no rise in hate crimes or hate speech. The CIA, FBI, NSA, NAACP, and Jews are all lying or mistaken because his conspiracy buddies say so.

I get called slurs and babykiller and pedophile every day when I go to work on campus. (Apparently goyim think we lick babies' private parts? Their kinks baffle me.) My coworkers make pointed remarks or talk about hoping Hamas wins and look at me just daring me to get offended or fight them or report them to the department head, who they and I both know would side with them. I am taking care of my disabled father and my newfound stray-who-chose-me dog, I have been repairing the attic and spare room because my sister and her daughter have to move in at the end of the month due to their rent being hiked up suddenly, and I am recovering from having a bleeding ulcer back in December, during which I lost over half the blood in my body.

And added onto all of this work, I can't even come home to peace and quiet. I come home to more and more conspiracy garbage. My adoptive dad was always emotionally abusive and has untreated Bipolar Disorder. He's never been kind to me. But now he's dehumanizing me, saying things like "the Jews and people" as if those are separate categories, rambling about "the mystery of the Jews" which appears to be how we survived if people actually hated us (which is apparently in question), and constantly, consistently, repeatedly talking about the Holocaust. I got up to get peanut butter for breakfast because I'm so busy that breakfast is two spoons of peanut butter and I couldn't even get that this morning without being told actually, it's Jewish people's fault for dying during the Holocaust because they knew it was coming and could've gotten out.

I'm a bad person.

I snapped. I just started screaming. Not words, not even syllables, just full-body, loud, long screams to drown out everything he said. I screamed until my voice gave out and then I clamped my hands over my ears, shut my eyes and waited until I had enough breath to bolt for my room, throw on non-pajama clothes, and went to work. I can't take it. I can't take this. I can't deal with this. I didn't apologize and I'm not going to because if I do I might have to hear more of it and it's too much. When I was a kid he used to get angry and refuse to talk to me for days, sometimes weeks. I am actively begging Hashem to let that happen because I just can't take this anymore.

I'm 24. I'm not even 30 yet and I feel ancient. Childhood feels like a half-remembered dream. I don't remember what it was like to feel safe anymore. I had a fine day at work because I've started... I don't think it's exactly dissociating? I imagine myself as a main character in a video game narrating the contents of a visual novel. 'Angry Coworker #2 is overly dramatic. You wonder how much of it is performance,' I narrate to myself in the second person, eating lunch, 'and how much, if any, of her emotion is genuine. She is giving a 2012 early YouTube caliber performance. Your smile should look appropriately strained so she thinks her attempt has succeeded, lest she escalate to full-on theatrics.'

This cannot be healthy. But the last therapist I had just taught me to feel guilty for thinking about the part or things I can't control because that means I have only myself to blame for feeling bad. The therapist before that I caught zoning out on me mid-session and totally not paying attention. The one before that kept telling me that the things that stress me out don't actually effect me and I was self-victimizing because the rest of the world doesn't "have" to effect me.

I am coming apart at the seams. I am consistently narrating my own life in the second person and not eating dinner because then I'd have to encounter my father and working on something because if I work I don't have to think. I don't know how long I can keep going like this. If I ever scream at work like I did at home, I'd be fired, and pretty rightfully so.

I'm so tired. I can't deal with everything. I can't kill myself because there's too much work to do, too many people depending on me. I can't keep patiently gritting my teeth and listening to another hot take on "the Jews" every morning. I just want to sleep. I just want to lay in bed and forget about everything. I can't do this anymore. I also have to.

.

[drop-the-curtain-123]

random school uniform customisations that could've been done in the AC live-action movies (imo)

ok so the assassination classroom live action movies have flaws. But I can't stop thinking about how visually, some ideas could have helped the goal of differentiating the cast, and showing their personalities a bit more.

Two things the movies, due to their shortened runtime, struggled to do otherwise.

BUT.

(click on read more for my whole run-down on how I would've handled things!)

First of all, I understand keeping it all natural hair colors. That's a choice. Black haired Nagisa and Kayano, and maroon-haired Karma? I can live with that.

Why not take advantage of the fact some of the students DO have unnatural hair? As in, it's implied it's a dye that they consenciously do, notably as 'counter-culture', free spirits?

The blond hair on top of Terasakas' hair, along with Rio gyaru-bleach? Kurahashi's implied gradient hair, Maehara chapatsu orange-ish style, and Sugaya's grey bob?

It goes well with their characters too, and would've helped making them stand out!

Same with Ritsu! A norwegian AI moe girl is the perfect excuse for bright hair!

(while we're at it, if I could retcon another thing from the movie, it's making it so that an actual blasian actor is casted for Yoshida. But what can I do now...)

For the more broad uniform differences, I think it's a lost opportunity to not take advantage of the fact the actors have, well, a consistent costume on themselves.

Whearas in the manga format you'd need to keep track of everything by yourself and draw it over and over again.

Upper body customisations:

Okano could have had the tracksuit jacket we see her with in the extra episode, over her uniform. She would totally wear the matching sweatpants under her skirt.

It would've been fun to have Yada wear different scrunchies overtime, and wear the matching sweater! Maybe even a sleeveless one, could portray her sweet, preppy side well.

To tie in with her hair, Kurahashi too could have a nice, cute (tie-dye?) sweater! Maybe on the "fluffier" side?

Hazama could have had a simple black V neck sweater too. Maybe with a pocket on the chest that she pulls out small stuff from. IDK. Maybe a pen attached? A bookmark?

Kayano could wear tacky, pudding themed t-shirts under her blazer! For foreshadowing her link with someone, but also because it ties in with her persona...lity!

Okuda could've worn a lab-coat over her blazer, or even have it replace the blazer! Yeah, kind of on the nose, but it's a 2 hours movie set in a small set with 28 cast members.

Instead of the school-blaser, Kimura too could have worn a sports' hoodie?

There could have been a nod to various baseball stuff through Sugino wearing a specific jersey/jacket.

More! Baggy pockets cargo pants! As of canon, only Okajima, Chiba and Nagisa have them, but I believe it would fit Yoshida, maybe? Even others, I'm curious.

The state of the uniform and how it's worn could be telling too!

Someone like Takebayashi (who, apparently, is the only one to wear the vest, consisting the fullest uniform, along with Isogai!) and Kataoka have very ironed, proper uniforms, whilst Terasaka canonically wears his button-up days in a row.

Nagisa (who would have his pigtails!) also has a too-big uniform for his, showing his whole "isn't right in his skin" arc.

His canon design cuffs his pants, and he apparently had promised his mother he'd grow into it (the uniform) right?

True to her kogyaru/kogal style, Nakamura's skirt could be shorter. She did get sent to Class E partially because of breaking the dress code! (obviously, with the actress comfort taken into consideration)

I like Isogai and Maehara uniforms already, but I feel like for a live-action it needs to be exagerated a bit more.

Isogai's vest could be more visible with his blazer open, so that it differentiates him with Chiba, and also because it is a nod to his job as a waiter.

Maehara's sweater is a nice idea! I think he'd wear it a bit over-sized, and open, though. His tie is also not that tight. He also has trendy, but rather unpractical, shoes.

Maybe some hair stuff could be done too! Nothing drastic as to change totally the original character design, but maybe some headbands or hairpins?

Hara having matching looser socks (extrapolating from her design) and headbands (that could get her bangs out of the way when she does stuff) could be very cute.

Along with hair elastics on her wrist like Nagisa, ready to lend some to others!

Again, adding utility to a piece and building on its existence!

SOCKS!

Kurahashi could have cute legwarmers too.

There could be a diversity in color, length...

Kanzaki still has her iconic black tights, of course, but maybe she could have fancy shoes? Mary Janes? Something, both figuratively and literally, polished.

She could have one of those plastic black hairbands too, adding a little more visual interest to her otherwise pretty basic hair. It also is polished, and could represent the oppresive side of her family, literally weighting on top her. It also has a sort of shine and light to it, which also lines up with the whole "angel halo/madonna of the class" title.

While we're onto footwear...

Shoes! You can NOT tell me Muramatsu isn't a sneakers' fan (sneakerhead?)! (unintentionally inspired that headcanon list)

Terasaka and his middle aged dad-style slippers for the win! I love them. Pantoufles de daron, as we say in my corner of the world.

Mimura canonically has white shoes that kind of denote from others, that'd be a nice touch too. (he also could wear his "directors' style" sweater over his shoulders like in some extra content!)

He also can have his belt too! It can add visual interest, as always!

The bags could be a fun touch too. They're all the same, sure, but social butter flies or passionate souls could have a bunch of charms (or merch!) added to it.

Some could be frumpy, stained, doodled on, emboidered, or filled to the brim...

SPECIAL CASES:

An anticonformist (not that much by belief, but by absolutely not caring about living as anything less than their authentic self-expression) like Sugaya would definitely rock a skirt-over-pants style.

Or even just wear a painters' apron permanently! You don't know when you'll need to DIY some camouflage, or stain yourself any other way. The light grey would match the hair, too.

Now that I think about it, Fuwa might ditch the shoes for more average, comfy sneakers like Sugino, Kimura, and also do without the tie. It'd be a nice change to have a girl not wear it. Her socks could be easter eggs from other mangas, too?

I don't have everyone pinned down, mainly because I see them as rule-abiding students on that front (no blame on them).

Chiba, Hayami, etc. would wear their uniforms to a T, I believe, just like in canon.

Chiba is really, really glad he has the cargo pants though. His punk side could show in a couple adjustements, like ditching the blaze

Feel free to tell me your ideas! I'm just throwing my two cents here about a years-old movie. I'm always willing to learn more!

[siflshonen]

Hi, I love your analyses and your fics! 💕Especially that Eureka Seven AU man ngl it lives in my head and starts playing in my local theaters every other night at 2 AM, but *clears throat* I'm getting off topic lol :D do you have a bakudeku fic/authors rec list?

I'm honored you read the Eureka Seven one!

Good Bakudeku authors... the truth is, there are SO MANY. Just in general, and so many that are really, truly excellent. I have begun consuming more and more fic lately as I feel the itch of the subtext of what's happening in the manga rapidly becoming text and just plain consuming me, but many of the individual stories I've read can be GREAT as a story but perhaps not so great as a canon-faithful representation of Bakudeku - so I'm not entirely sure what kind of Bakudeku you're asking for ("fun and good story" versus "horny vignette" versus "that's totally Katsuki and Izuku.")

Also, like, for several of these authors, their Bakudeku portrayals evolved as the series progressed and we all learned more about these characters and the varnish of what BNHA pretends to be (superhero stock shonen!) peeled off to show what it actually is (The newest generation of something that should never have been domesticated now outgrowing the limits of the modern genre.) This is always good to keep in mind when looking at the dates of each work published.

Um, it's hard to pick just a few, and even harder when there's no specific direction about what TYPE. So here's a scattershot off the top of my head:

Me. My work. Read Mundane Crimes, Public Displays of Affection and I Want What I Don't Deserve. Those actually have some substance to them. The rest are kind of whatever, but you may still find them fun.

Kickass AUs and All-Rounders

chymerical is my favorite author on this list. They can do anything. I care about sports now because of chymerical. There's your fuckin' fadeaway.

young_crone - some are truly Bakudeku and some are just great stories that are using familiar names. Read all of 'em.

SmartiMart - Variant Edition is a sweeping epic and fascinating enough that the Bakudeku isn't actually its primary draw for me. Please also read Where in the World is Marigold? It's not Bakudeku, but I love it. SmartiMart is clever, inventive, and sometimes so much of a romantic that it makes me go, "woah, now! That's a bit much!" but in the best way.

iphido - this author has only one work for bakudeku, and it is worth it.

nicc - bite-sized sweet scenes, though many are very NSFW. Consistently excellent.

pikahlua - Dragonheart. this is your kick in the pants to finish those scenes, Pika.

Romantic Comedies

qodqodqod - Cringe comedy where love always, always, always prevails and bakudeku can't out-stupid their way out of it. Great job of not making the miscommunication, or lack of communication, a bore or overdone past what it needs to be.

heartsinhay - the cringe comedies are named that for a reason.

Darker Stuff

rironomind - apparently published something new earlier this year and I missed it??? DAMN! Existential, experimental, melancholic, high concept, fantastic. Rom's work is mostly in this category because it tends to throw curveballs at the reader. This is the category that just felt the most right by its vibes.

bkdkink - Lemonhead specifically.

Roadtripwithlucifer (read their new stuff too) - horny, but focused and full, full, full of ennui and anger and love and grief. It's the confidence of handling the last four that makes these works shine.

Surveycorpsjean - hit or miss for me personally, but always well done.

majjale - always great work; sometimes hit-or-miss for me personally on the bakudeku.