#uh oh I might delete soon because I’m afraid I’m too out of my lane

[mushiemellows]

So Usopp’s this really fascinating character in the lineup because you learn to love him so much and in doing that you gotta learn to love yourself? Like, okay so the Luffy Zoro Sanji and Nami clearly hold character tradition in Lupin, Goemon, Jigen, and Fujiko. Not perfectly 1-1 but they obv don’t mess too much with the winning formula.

And then usopp gets to come on the journey. Why does usopp get to come? Because we get to. He serves as this really great outstretched hand to everyone else, to see themselves in any strawhat. He’s audience proxy. Now, I’m going to say something that may be a little inflammatory to some (controversial yet undeniably true) but I think it’s so vital to understanding his journey. Usopp, from an initial character design perspective, hails from the historical repercussions of minstrelsy. The racism is inherently baked into his character. I think I didn’t realize just how deeply ingrained it was (like the totality of bad traits, you don’t need to look hard to identify visuals) until watching opla and seeing how Jacob’s Usopp pulled back on a few traits that are historically linked to that racist tradition (I think having Matt Owens, a black man, leading the writing staff was an absolutely influential part of reframing the character as well) but I also think that’s why he felt almost overly sanitized (in a similar fashion to how I fear they will treat Bon Clay in s2). Nuance- two things can be true at once, usopp can both be a racist caricature with negative traits associated negatively with black men AND I can love him for his flaws and see myself in him and empathize with him. He can be a coward and a liar, two traits that are definitely applied with racist intention when he Looks Like That, and I can independently like that a coward and an liar gets to be on the protag team. That’s kind of the point!

So by like, 2003, as Oda is deciding he’s not actually going to end with Skypia and is going to keep going for 100 more years, it makes sense that Usopp is the first loose thread to need development. So, then, what defines Usopp’s identity? What’s he bring to the team?

And then they double down by making his arc foil Franky. A man. A man’s man. A man’s man’s man. A caricature the same visual American Export Animation Tradition (early 20th century minstrelsy’s big brother: ww2 racist propaganda), but not racialized in the way Usopp is (he’s not a racist depiction of white men is what I mean). So visually, they’re already at odds. And then in terms of character Franky fills like, 75% of what Usopp’s been bringing to the team, and generally he does it better. He fixes things better, he makes better inventions, he’s a good shot (but vitally NOT a BETTER shot), and he takes on some of the the load of temporary comedic relief.

Of course usopp takes the rejection of Merry personally. He’s having this deep crisis of what he is able to uniquely provide, and the answer he keeps coming up with is that, well, he brought the ship to the table. And without his ship, he’s……. Uh oh. He’s jealous and he’s bitter and he doesn’t know how he fits in and the anxieties get the better of him. He’d rather self sabotage than be rejected down the line and abandoned who knows where. Or worse- he thinks he’ll let everyone down if the pressure falls on his shoulders . And that’s what makes him so wonderful and heart breaking and lovable and relatable. I get it, I see his insecurities when they’re all laid out and it pulls you in to empathize with your own insecurities.

I think humbleness, the ability to say you’re sorry and grow and then PROVE that you’ve learned and grown, is so key to both Usopp and Oda. I don’t think the (at most charitably, ‘unintentional’) anti-black rhetoric fully ever leaves the franchise. I think the work is too old and will never be able to scrub it off. But I think Oda can learn. I think he has. Each time he takes a swing at a racism allegory, he learns more and more. Same with uhhhhhh gay and trans people, while he’s at it.

Ussop’s getting (re: fights, not shipping, tho I’m shocked it isn’t more rare pair) paired off with Perona is cool and I wish people talked about the arrangement more because I think he’s ‘pessimism as strength’ trait is the first time he gets a good independent moment after rejoining. Everyone else is down!!! And when they all rely on him, he DOES have skills no one else does. He DOESN’T let the team down at their most vulnerable. He out-illusions a GHOST.

I think that’s where a lot of love for post-ts Usopp comes from. He gets to finally stand on his own. To survive! And thrive! And figure out what makes him him. Not a caricature, not a filler position defined by how others need/utilize/manipulate him. But who he wants to be. Flaws and all. And comedically, he is the best and funniest as the “straight man” and everyone else get’s to be the punchline (he still gets to be funny, but by being the one to point out ironies he gets to step back from his roots).

I think One Piece as a work of Gender Propaganda (the purpose of shounen manga is to teach young boys what “man shit” is- that’s not a spicy take) does it’s best when it gets to define the nuances of masculinity by a million different proxies (that’s what fights are). The function of the timeskip is to “make a man” out of the main team’s boys (and allies) (I can elaborate on this in another post if there’s interest). And post-ts Usopp is unequivocally A. Man. Maybe not a man’s man’s man’s man. But a man regardless. That’s not even in question. He gets to find his own unique identity and grow in front of our eyes. And if he’s the audience proxy, that means we can too.

[restlessmelodrama]

Say I Never Mattered Chapter 1  *:･ﾟ✧

Steve Harrington x Y/N Henderson (Slowburn)

Warnings: Swearing (i guess), also… probably bad writing.

Chapter 1  / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 /

Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Playlist

A/N:  Hi, you may have noticed, that this is a new account.

I’ve been on Tumblr for- who the fuck knows? Many years. I feel old.

I wrote some fanfics before, and a few people were reading it.

Then out of nowhere like every mentally-stable person would, I deleted everything and disappeared from the Internet for two years. But I’m back now, so hey!

I guess my writing isn’t that bad, so I hope you enjoy. xD

⟡ Tell me, if I should continue this series and leave some constructive criticism if you want to.

P.S: I’m not a native speaker, so sorry if I made any mistakes. 

There you were.

Walking down the rainy, cold streets of Hawkins, Indiana.

You had just left the modest road between Euclid and Monroe leading to a few gorgeous houses, with garages as big as your home and huge heated pools with jets. Upper-class shit.

It was shortly after eleven am on a Friday night in November and the poorly lit streets of Hawkins were deserted, as always right after nightfall. This town was the definition of a dump.

You were rummaging through your backpack, searching for your small mirror, in the need to check if black streaks of mascara were visible on your face. You had to look somewhat presentable since you still had to pick up your little brother from the Wheeler’s place.

You found it right when you turned onto Maple Street and tried to wipe away one of the destructions this night had left, with the right sleeve of your beloved jean jacket and buttoned it up to hide the rest of the visible embarrassment. Continuing to walk to the only house in the neighborhood with its lights still on.

You rang the doorbell and quickly walked the few steps, leading to the front door, back down. You were a little tipsy and did not wanna risk an argument with Mr. Wheeler about underaged drinking. If he couldn’t smell the alcohol he wouldn’t notice, since he barely even noticed your existence... or anyone’s as a matter of fact.

The light turned on and the door opened, revealing a pissed Ted Wheeler in a green tracksuit and Birkenstocks. His usual look.

“Hi, Mr. Wheeler. Sorry for the late disturbance, but I’m here to pick up my brother“, you said in the friendliest way possible.

He looked at you in confusion.

“Dustin Henderson“, you tried to help him.

Still no sign of enlightenment

“You know, wild curls, baseball cap, very annoying.“, you told him, nervously chuckling, hoping he would finally snap out of it.

“Oh yeah Justin“, he nodded.

“It’s Dus-“, you wanted to correct him, but you were interrupted.

“They’re in the basement. Can you go down there and get him? I’m watching the game.“, he asked with an annoyed undertone in his voice.

„Um- uh sure… I can go“, you stuttered.

This guy was unbelievable. Incredibly useless. A waste of space.

You never understood what Mrs. Wheeler saw in the man.

You took a deep breath and followed him inside. He pointed you towards the living room and disappeared into their kitchen.

You shook your head in disbelief, walking through the Wheeler home. It was already decorated for Christmas.

You always admired Mrs. Wheeler’s assertiveness to turn their place into a Winter Wonderland although her family hated it. Everywhere you looked were little ornaments, fairy lights or other decorations.

It made you think of decorating the tree with your mom and your brother. A very distant but happy memory.

You were about to open the door to the basement when Mr. Wheeler called after you.

“Hey, Henderson, hold up! One question.“

“Yes?“ You asked, turning around after rolling your eyes, wondering what the hell he could possibly want, certain that he had called you by your last name because he couldn’t remember your first.

“Is there a chance you have seen my daughter, Nancy anywhere?“, he wanted to know, really pushing his parental might, as he was staring you down.

He clearly thought he was an authority figure to you, which was so far off, that it was kind of funny. Especially in your tipsy state of mind.

“No… I’m afraid I haven’t.”, you responded, biting back your laughter.

“Aren’t you two always out together?“, he wanted to know next, crossing his arms over his chest.

What world was this guy living in?

“Yes, that would be true if we were still in middle school exchanging our lunch boxes, Mr. Wheeler.

We barely talk now.“ you declared, sighing.

“Oh, okay”, he said, already having lost interest in what you were telling him.

You gave him a sarcastic smile, that you normally used when you were about to flip somebody off and turned around, stepping into the basement and leaving the ignorant man behind. You kept standing on top of the staircase for a few seconds, attempting to calm yourself down, but were interrupted by Max sighing in relief,

“Shit, Y/ N! You scared me. I thought you were my brother.“, she blurted out.

“Oh, sorry to disappoint, but I believe my hairdo isn’t a mullet, looking like I planted some roadkill on my head. Also, my jeans are just not that tight“, you joked, the kids erupting into laughter and earning yourself a high-five from Lucas.

“You’re good for tonight, though.“, you said reaching into your pocket to reveal a set of keys. You tossed them over to Max, who had a look on her face like she had just won the lottery, as soon as she realized who they belonged to.

“You took his keys?“, she asked, her eyes growing wide, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, he tried to drive home shitfaced, so I thought I’d do everyone else on planet earth a favor and take them. Well, except for Harrington, because Billy totally crashed in the shed in his backyard.“, you explained planting yourself on the couch next to Mike, digging into the bag of tortilla chips and stuffing a few in your mouth.

You tried not to think about it too much but your heart began to hurt when his name left your lips. You didn’t know what to think. That night had been messy and ugly and heartbreaking.

“You definitely saved my ass. Thanks, Y/N!“, Max interrupted your thoughts again.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the feeling of it closing up,

“Anytime, California.“, you smiled.

The party had been playing DnD, all day and they begged you to let them finish the game, stating it would only take a few more minutes.

Almost an hour later, they had finally lost and your brother was displeased enough to be willing to leave since he was a sore loser.

You quickly said your goodbyes and left through the back door.

“Where’s the car?“ Dustin asked when you reached the front of the house.

He seemed pretty drained all of a sudden.

“I had something to drink, tonight, so no driving for me, sorry. 

Also, dad needed my car earlier today“, you brought up as casual as possible, trying to make it seem harmless.

Dustin sighed, rolling his eyes, “He took off again. Didn’t he?“

“No, Dusty, I’m sure he will be home by tomorrow.“, you lied once more, giving him a hopefull smile.

“You know that’s utter bullshit.“, he hissed, kicking the ground in frustration.

Bullshit, it was like the fucking word was haunting you. Tonight it kept growing, tougher and meaner.

“We both know that it’s not likely that we will see him or your car anytime soon. You can stop pretending, Y/N. I’m not a little kid. I know what’s going on.“, he exclaimed clearly angry.

He didn’t know what was going on. Not all of it, and you were very thankful for that.

But he was right, he wasn’t little anymore. You still hoped you could give him the kind of childhood, you weren’t allowed to have. You felt the tears build up again, but you were able to hold them back. You didn’t want Dustin to feel even worse just because you were tipsy and emotional.

“You’re right“, you gave him a sad smile, 

“But you’re also not grown up yet and you already have enough on your plate, Dusty.“, you said, feeling a little overwhelmed as your vision began to blur.

He must have seen the tears in your eyes and your exhausted posture because he immediately gave up on reasoning with you.

Both of you fell into silence for a  few minutes. Your brother was staring at the ground and dragging his feet.

You bit your lip. You hated when things were that way between you.

You moved a bit closer to him and slightly pushed his side with your elbow.

“How about some fries and a milkshake?“, you asked trying to get him to talk to you again. You couldn’t bear that silence.

He looked at you with furrowed brows and a scrunched up nose, “It’s almost 1am.“

“All right grandpa!“, you teased him, “If you’d rather go home to stare at our empty fridge, we’ll do that.“ 

“Oh, hell no! Let’s go to Benny’s Burgers. They are open all night on Fridays.“, he chuckled almost sounding offended.

You smiled, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders, turning the corner to Randolph Lane.

“Y/N? One more thing…“, he asked stopping in his tracks, looking serious all of a sudden.

“What is it?“, you asked, squinting your eyes a little.

“You’re paying right?“, he grinned.

And you let out heartfelt laughter.

“Oh no Mister, since you don’t want to be treated like a little kid anymore, I think you’re going to pay for yourself. Welcome to adulthood, brother.“ You told him still laughing and obviously thinking he would get the joke, but he didn’t.

“Oh, come on Y/N, I-“, he began to argue.

The rest of his sentence was swallowed by the sound of your heart beating so loud, you thought it would hop right out of your chest, any second. Excruciating pain was moving through your entire body, as you stared at the dark-red BMW parked in front of the restaurant.

You felt a cold shiver run down your back and your throat was starting to hurt again.

Tonight the odds really weren’t in your favor.

“Cool, Steve is here! Maybe he can drive us home later.“, Dustin exclaimed, excitedly.

“Yeah, Maybe“, you whispered, not wanting to alert your brother.

You were walking, a few hesitant steps behind Dustin, your mind telling you to run in the other direction and not stop until you were out of this fucking town leaving behind everything. Your family, your responsibilities and him. Especially him.

Fuck.