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grandlinedreams · 7 months

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“We should get married.”

The question in and of itself is a strange one, made more so for the fact that it’s coming from Zoro of all people – and the fact that he’s asking you in the middle of a fight. Your back is pressed against his, the heat of his skin seeping into your clothes – and you wonder if he’s gotten hit in the head too many times. Or thrown through too many things – too much of something.

“Are you seriously saying that right now?” Your tone is incredulous as you swing your weapon, scowling as you watch another enemy drop with a cry and a splatter of blood. “We’re a little busy right now, aren’t we?”

Zoro grins, expression manic with the deepened shadows of his face from his bandana, adjusting to place the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji in his mouth. “Is that a yes?”

You have the brief moment of considering knocking Zoro out for your opponent – clearly his daily naps out in the sun have baked his brain more than you previously thought. “No!”

–

The question doesn’t turn out to be borne from a brain-based injury flaring up, because Zoro doesn’t let the subject go. He bides his time, waiting about two weeks from when he first asked before he tries again.

This time, the stars are a witness to his buffoonery – now fueled by the bottles of sake he seems to have squirreled away everywhere on the Thousand Sunny. You watch as he tips the bottle to his lips, the brief shimmer of liquid that beads at his lips before it disappears as he swallows.

“We should get married,” he says, and this time, you scoff. It isn’t one of disdain, rather of amusement as you wait for the alcohol induced flush to rise to his cheeks. “‘m serious, you know.”

“No,” you counter softly as you scoot closer to him, reaching up to wipe a drop of sake from the corner of his lips and bring it to your own for a taste. As ever, his own choices in alcohol seem to be tailored for him and him alone – sake still isn’t your thing. “You’re drunk.”

Zoro hums, eye flicking from the night sky above to you. “Is that a yes?”

You press your lips to his warm cheek. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”

–

The third time that he asks, he’s waited so long that you’ve almost forgotten that he ever asked in the first place. After all, Roronoa Zoro has never seemed like someone interested in the intimate entanglement of marriage – you have absolutely no clue what has possessed him to suddenly ask you with this kind of tenacity.

“We should get married,” he says, and you resist the urge to sigh as you stare at him, his head pillowed against your thigh. Below the shade of Nami’s tangerine trees, you can hear Luffy’s bright laughter intermingled with Usopp and Franky’s.

This time you aren’t in the middle of a fight, nor is he drunk. This time, you take a moment to study his face, the dapple of sunlight through waxy green leaves, the scent of citrus in the air. You love him, you’re sure of that – as sure as you’ve been of anything in your life.

“We’re pirates,” you answer, tapping your fingers against his cheek in an echoed rhythm of one of Brooke’s songs from the night before. “Pirates don’t get married.”

“Sure they do.” He’s watching you now, with the kind of intensity he usually only reserves for battle, and you look away. “Captains can officiate marriages. I asked Robin about it.”

You blink and let your attention shift to Luffy for a minute – you love your captain, you do. But the idea of him being serious about much of anything beyond what matters to him (food, his crew’s safety, finding the One Piece – in that order) makes you giggle. You can’t imagine him officiating something like a marriage.

“What if I want a ceremony?” Your fingers find his cropped green hair, stroking gently across his scalp. “Those are expensive.”

He shrugs. “We’d find a way. I’m sure Nami would help.”

Your lips curve in an amused smile for a moment before it dims at the edges. “It’d be dangerous,” you point out, and he answers with a short bark of laughter.

“Not any more than shit we’ve already faced.”

“Rings?”

“We don’t need that fancy stuff.”

Your smile fades completely, hand stilling in his hair. “Why do you think we should get married?”

There must be an edge to your tone now, because Zoro refocuses on you, all signs of mirth gone. “Because we love each other, right? Sounds like the next logical step.”

Your gaze hardens. “So you’re asking because you think we should? Or because you want to marry me?” He sits up, and you get to your feet.

“Is that a no?” he asks, and you pause.

“Ask me again when you figure things out, Zoro.”

–

“Marry me.”

This time, his voice is quiet. Soft and vulnerable – for the late hour or the intimacy of his bare skin against yours, you aren’t sure. His hand drifts up and down your back, counting the bumps of your spine over and over.

You shift against him, face nestled to rest against his chest. “Zoro–”

“I’ve thought about it,” he cuts you off. “So just be quiet and listen, okay?” You don’t say a word, waiting for him to continue on his own. “I don’t want to marry you just because I think that I should, I want us to get married because you...you mean a lot to me. You’re important to me, and I –” He pauses, struggling. This kind of thing is not Zoro’s forte, you both know that – but after a moment, he resumes. “I don’t see myself being like this with anyone but you. I don’t want to be like this with anyone but you. Just want you.” A moment of silence, hearts beating in tandem.

You move, adjusting enough that you can look at him properly, the gleam of moonlight against his face. And you kiss him. Slow and sweet, eyes sliding shut as you linger for as long as you can before you pull away.

“Marry me,” he repeats.

This time, you don’t squawk at him like he’s crazy. You don’t accuse him of being drunk, don’t deflect him for fear that he’s doing it because he thinks he should, not that he wants to. This time, you smile.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll marry you.”

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #–ml: zoro.

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gffa · 1 year

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Laughing my ass right off at Bo-Katan’s never ending terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time, like in the span of about a fucking week, she has:

Din Djarin come knocking on her door and she has to deal with his quest to find the living waters as he prods every emotional bruise she still has about all the Mandalorians abandoning her

Din gets himself snared by some weird eyeball in a jar in a robot body so the weird green baby has to come tell her to rescue him

Which she does and then falls into the Living Waters with him and possibly sees a Mythosaur making her question her sanity

Then her fucking childhood home gets blown up by Imperial remnants, just one more reminder that everything she was gifted she has lost, that she has failed her family’s legacy one more time

So sure why not, let’s go join the group she doesn’t actually believe in and called a cult just last season, but they’re reasonably nice to her and she’s good at fighting, so actually they’re pretty cool

But she’s still quietly freaking out that she may have seen a mythical legendary creature like is she LOSING HER FUCKING MIND HERE???

And how the fuck do you eat without taking your helmet off??

Suddenly she’s being pushed into leadership of the war party, but it’s not bad, she got to stay by the fire, and it’s nice to be useful, even if she still feels out of sorts.

And then even more suddenly she’s being told she walks both worlds, that she needs to unite Mandalore one more fucking time

LET’S GO KICK SOME PIRATE ASS!!!11!

So sure why the fuck not. WHY THE FUCK NOT. Let’s go to some decked out vacation planet in the middle of Bumfuck Outer Rim

Let’s take a stupid as shit detour into finding some malfunctioning droids with a guy who has unresolved droid-related trauma and literally KICKS THE DROIDS just to be a dick so they’ll react,

Like Bo-Katan Kryze doesn’t have enough shit to deal with, every time she has to stop and deal with some absolute clown buffoonery, she’s reminded that she’s in full clown wig and makeup herself, this is her fucking life now and I was LAUGHING MY ASS OFF ABOUT IT THE ENTIRE TIME, Bo-Katan’s life is just one long string of, “Life is already so goddamned weird, this might as well happen.” I love you, babe, but I also love your long suffering face as you have to deal with being in a Star Wars show.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #bo katan kryze #i make myself laugh and that's all that's important

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nezuchuuko · 1 month

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The absolute lack of reaction on Natsume’s part makes me suspect he’s not even consciously aware of the buffoonery happening right before his eyes. Then there’s Tanuma, popcorn in hand, enjoying his entertainment while Kitamoto fights for his life for 15 seconds straight.

#natsume yuujinchou #video #nishimura satoru #kitamoto atushi #natsume takashi #tanuma kaname

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frostedpuffs · 2 years

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very very soft for prpr adrinette where they are the absolute BEST of best friends with 0 boundaries that share anything and everything with each other and can talk for hours even about the most mundane shit but also have no filter, no boundaries whatsoever bc theyre just so comfortable w each other (aka "hey does this look infected to you" "sorry im late i was having stomach problems.") crushing on each other SUPER HARD but way too fucking oblivious to realize the other likes them back just as much and PINING STUPIDLY INTENSELY where theyre sighing wistfully like "ugh i just wish adrien/marinette liked me back" meanwhile alya and nino are like PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP AND OPEN UR EYES OH MY GODDDD

constant sleepovers where all they wanna do is cuddle each other but are like "noo that would make them uncomfortable..." despite that they are sleeping in the same bed like 2cm apart and staring at each other with big ol fucking doe eyes. late night phone calls that somehow last all night and into the morning. chilling on rooftops like "haha isnt this sunset romantic" "y-yeah" "...anyway uhhhh how was your day." casually calling each other cute/beautiful/hot but thinking "oh well there mustn't be any romantic intent there right...it's just platonic right?"

they hang off of each other, spend almost every fucking day together, and are ALWAYS TOUCHING like hugging/holding hands/rubbing each others backs when theyre stressed, casually kiss each other's foreheads, to the point where everyone else thinks theyre dating but THEYRE NOT (BUT THEY WISH THEY WERE!!)

IDIOTS TO LOVERS ARC! TOMFOOLERY!! DUMBASSERY! BUFFOONERY!!!

#i just have a lot of thoughts. and feelings. and thoughts #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrienette #prpr #ml love square #love square #miraculous fandom #miraculous #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #text post

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tushav · 1 year

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Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 221 reaction because I need a fucking void to scream into after this one

Good to know we're approaching the most monumental event in this manga from the angle of absolute buffoonery

You haven't just missed the character. You've missed everyone else's reactions to the character.

Seriously the setup is unnecessarily funny

Like did it have to be Inumaki? Giving the go ahead? Or was it just funnier that way???

Ieiri is both sending me and adding 10 years to my life with the shit she's pulling this chapter

1. Takaba has been the most inspired addition to this manga in its entire serialization

2. Why is it always Momo and her pigtails in the background. It's always her. Not saying a word. Judging.

No seriously the sunglasses were a fucking masterstroke.

You know the whole sight for sore eyes thing? Well you didn't really know until this moment right here. My eyes are fucking weeping. They have never been so deprived. They have never known such relief.

Only fucking Gojo could be this nonchalant about the King of Curses possessing his actual son. Please tell me this means you can save our boy.

If this isn't the hottest thing you've seen, you're lying to me.

Oh how I've missed you, you lil blonde bastard.

That is kinda romantic and if I think too hard about it I might start bawling my eyes out

I know shit's gonna go down again soon but for now… Thank you, Gege

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #gojo satoru #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #ryoumen sukuna #geto suguru #kenjaku #shoko ieiri #hana kurusu #toge inumaki #okkotsu yuuta #zenin maki #fumihiko takaba #momo nishimiya #hakari kinji #jjk

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chocmarss · 2 years

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The sort of chaos inflicted on the 501st would be the kind that all of the 212th’s commanding officers, junior officers, and anyone who’s in charge on some form of squad get turned into babies and the 501st would be forced to take over the 212th for a little while.

It doesn’t help that General Kenobi’s roped into the de-aging shenanigans and is currently three years old. He’s drowning in his Jedi robes and his men are a year old at most, and they’re crawling around the Negotiator and almost falling off high places, Anakin, I require your assistance right now.

Anakin, mind running a hundred miles a minute at the sight of his tiny former Master: …….Master? Is that you? Why are you—

Tiny Obi-Wan: Questions later and help now, pah-da-wan.

It’s just as well that the 501st is just a system away, and it takes them twenty minutes to travel through hyperspace before they find the Negotiator floating in deep space with the kind of tranquility and power it usually imposes.

Until Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex and a squad of their own carefully slip into the cruiser with their weapons ready, only to find a private holding a baby at arm’s length, a clump of Shinies around him staring at the kid in wide-eyed panic.

The clones: SIRS, HELP, OUR SERGEANT SHRUNK

They find Obi-Wan in the command centre and he’s absolutely as tiny as the holoprojector showed them. His robes drag behind him as he marches towards them, bare feet pattering against the floor, and oh, Anakin thinks, feeling a little faint. That’s a toddler.

His Master’s a toddler.

And he’s holding a baby as much as his little arms can carry him, who’s staring at them with wide eyes.

Ahsoka: Master?

Obi-Wan, dumping the baby on Rex, who scrambles to meet him: Hold Cody, I need to wrangle Boil and Waxer away from the controls or they’ll crash us into a moon

Rex, who is probably gawking after him under that helmet: Cody?

As if he can hear the incredulity in his voice, Cody the baby only sends him a baleful look. They didn’t know someone so tiny can do that. Surprisingly, the scar’s still there, as if whatever that made them turn this way had a twisted sense of humour none of them seem to currently appreciate.

(What turned them into babies? Let’s go with the usual Sith buffoonery and the 212th falling into some long forgotten trap that might’ve have gotten a little wrong than it’s initial goal. It was supposed to kill Jedi, and not do something wimpy like simply incapacitate them.)

Anakin’s entering into a panic of his own? Yeah, absolutely, because he suddenly sees that the whole command centre, which is usually full of clones manning the cruiser, is empty, and that’s because half of them are turned into babies, and the other half who usually got someone else to order them around are holding them and making sure they don’t hurt themselves. They’re the 212th, they’re like a well-oiled clanker with no problems because Cody has an iron fist on how system works around here, and Obi-Wan would make sure some things go through the plans they’ve agreed on with the kind of smooth sailing that works because they have it all under control.

And now, Anakin has to take over all of that? On top of taking care of his own battalion? What if he messes up? What if all of Obi-Wan and Cody’s hard work just collapses because Anakin can’t do it the way they want it to? He can’t follow their system, their system’s perfect, controlled, admirable. Meanwhile, the 501st purely runs on adrenaline and sometimes caf and definitely not like the 212th.

Anakin snaps his thoughts back to the present when Obi-Wan has two babies in his arms. He’s waddling his way back to the adults because he’s only three after all, and his strength’s not as it used to be, and his robes are proving to be a hassle to manoeuvre when there’s just an excessive amount pooling around him, but he’s determined to keep Waxer and Boil from biting into something that could get them electrocuted and sick.

Anakin and Ahsoka quickly take the babies from Obi-Wan before he trips, or the babies fall, or just to prevent any sort of disaster than what’s already happening. The tiny general huffs, but lets them free his hands, and Anakin finds himself staring at a baby, whose bright eyes look back at him. It’s Waxer, Anakin knows it is, he can feel him in the Force and he’s worked with the man enough to know how to differentiate him and the others.

And the Mini Lieutenant seems to realise who Anakin is that the baby gives him a gummy smile, babbling as he does so as pats Anakin’s cheek with one chubby hand.

Oh. Oh, no.

#anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #commander cody #lieutenant waxer #de aging #501st #212th #the clone wars #star wars #marswrites #marsrb

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uchiha-7thsingularity · 7 months

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Hope (Part 1)

Anger can be overwhelming and easy to hold on to. Although repairing a broken heart can be difficult unless you willing to find all the pieces. The aftermath of Felix x MC argument and make up.

Felix Iskander Escellun

Felix feels defeated for a whole month. That's right. They two took a break for a whole month without sharing a word or syllable to each other.

They'd pass him by without a glance. Not a sneer or rolling their eyes at his voice. Just plain silence.

What a hellish punishment.

MC on the other hand was miserable. Yes, they are to take fault for walking away without saying what they wanted to say but at this point what else could they say.

Their mind was ablaze with guilt, sorrow, and shame.

This was torture. An infinite purgatory of constant denial.

(Poor Anisa, Sage, Florian, Scylla, Saaros, and Tulsi. Not a clue on how to help their friends. Afraid to be caught in the middle. Silent in the bar or in the office. Can't even get a freakin cup since Felix and MC are in the kitchen while awkwardly trying not to bump shoulders or make eye contact. But they do end up holding eye contact and tensions are high that it leaves them both to walk away with no snack and just tears.)

At the end of the day Scylla gets sick of it that she drags Felix out into the garden lecturing his buffoonery.

'What's the matter?!' "Nothing." She crosses her tattooed arms. 'Could've fooled florian or anisa...not me.' "Please, like you care about my relationship. Every chance you get you flirt with them in front of me. Don't tell me you care. Now! Of all times!"

She hums.

'You.' "What?" She sighs. 'You, ya' dimwit. All they see is you. Not me. No other person like you. Because Mc is infatuated by you.'

He can't help but blush at that declaration. "It's not your business in the first place. You have no right...." At laugh escapes her, 'And you do...I mean what are you two doing fe. Cause I spent the last months trying to see if they where good enough for you...even with as much chaos and bullshit they went through to save you and stay by your side. It's understandable that they went into a spiral.'

He fixes his gaze past her with a pout. She hugs him without a second thought as well as his small grunt he lets out by surprise. He still doesn't push her away. "What am I suppose to do?" 'I do not know. But so help me Fe, if you let them go without a word or fight then you did it to yourself."

Late at night felix tosses in his covers with a huff and little to no plan in how to walk up to mc. Until the sunrise in which he makes haste to MC's bedroom with no regard for his sleep wear or the servants scurrying to aid him in his sudden morning walk. He arrives and knocks biting his lip.

His nerves are fully awake now. At the point when mc opens the door.

Their shocked to see their surprise guest or boyfriend in his night wear. Till he asks to come in with a nervous gaze. They nod and make room for him. 'Did you need something.' He pinches his nose. "Don't....do it do that MC." They cross their arms. " Do what? 'You know...No I-I absolutely did not want to come here to fight with you again. I came here to see if you wanted to discuss what we left unsaid."

Mc sits on the bed to rub their eyes. They heave a heavy sigh. 'Fine.'

"You walked away." 'I walked away.' "I can't speak for the both of us." 'I never once asked you too.'

He perks up, "I wanted to talk and you pushed me away. You are messy, delightful, charming, and marvelous in your own way. Yet, this...is not healthy. So, please tell me what's wrong.I don't want you to worry yourself to death."

'I worry! No matter the situation I can't help but worry!'

'You dead in my arms. Rime yelling at escell. You giving up and telling me to walk away.'

Tears start to spill with mc hugging their knees. Felix starts to rub their shoulders. "You've done enough. You are enough."

'I'm sorry I put you through hell.' "If you can fight a god off, simply a meltdown I can handle, my love."

Felix and MC snort and start to rant about their past few days. No one can say what else was said but nothings changed. Felix and MC are messy and imperfect in their own way.

Except, theirs always room for improvement.

#fictif #last legacy #felix escellun #last legacy felix #fictif last legacy #felix x mc

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doofnoof · 8 months

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In Defense Of Mrs. Westenra:

This is going to sound absolutely insane, but I understand why Mrs. Westenra removed the garlic from Lucy's room, and think it was a genuine attempt at kindness rather than a selfish act done entirely foolishly, though regardless of her motives she's still doomed poor Lucy to death.

Let me explain: we're seeing some masterful use of dramatic irony here, I almost wish I could buy Bram Stoker a drink for how positively stunningly he's put the dramatic irony into motion, because it is absolutely sickening and heartwrenching knowing that Lucy is well and truly going to get even sicker and then die, because her mother removed the one thing protecting her from Dracula from her room.

We the audience are fully aware that this is a bad thing Mrs. Westenra has done, that she's doomed her daughter and is putting her directly in danger, that her smugness at the situation is so entirely misplaced that we want to scream and cry and curse and pull our hair out the way Van Hellsing did the instant she left the room, or the way Seward's anger is barely contained as he writes out today's entry. Bravo to the Re: Dracula cast for how downright upsetting this episode was, from hearing a usually silly man weep aloud to almost being able to see Seward's jaw clench from how he recounts what happened. You can almost imagine how Van Hellsing must have wept when his son died, as he loves Lucy as if she were his own daughter.

But here's the thing. Mrs. Westenra has been left out of the loop of what's happening with Lucy, she's unaware that Lucy knows she's sick, and with only a little time left she needs to get Lucy well enough to get married, so that when Mrs. Westenra inevitably dies Lucy is taken care of, she has enough money and a good enough reputation to get the care she needs when Mrs. Westenra can't try to provide it for her anymore. This is a very old-fashioned way of thinking, but Mrs. Westenra was raised in an old-fashioned time, likely when there was a cholera outbreak in London and the bad air theory first started to circulate, while Lucy is being raised in a new and (what must seem to Mrs. Westenra) frightening London, and old people are often set in their ways even now.

How many times have you, the audience, been told by a well-meaning older person in your life to "just hit the streets" when out looking for a job? They don't understand that times have changed, and it's easier to just nod and smile and say "sure thing, you're absolutely right Peepaw, I'll do just that" than to argue with them on it, because they're looking at the world through their lived experiences, the past, rather than how the world is currently.

Mrs. Westenra is also a disabled woman, she has a congenital heart disease that has only recently been fully diagnosed, and her life is slowly dwindling to an end, and she is watching helplessly as her daughter is sick with a disease no one seems able to cure. She has every right to be suspicious of Van Hellsing and Seward, because they can't and won't even tell her what's causing Lucy's illness, won't explain the garlic, and didn't even tell her they'd put garlic in her room.

Van Hellsing knows it's a vampire and can't fill anyone in on it, because that's supernatural hogwash, old-fashioned buffoonery, flying in the face of logic and science and everything the New London is striving for. Nobody would believe him anyways. Lucy thought the garlic was ridiculous, and even Seward himself felt as though Hellsing was being irrational (when Seward was Hellsing's student, and looked up to him as though he knew every secret in the world, but still questioned him on this one thing, fearing Hellsing was turning to Oujia Boards and Crystal Balls instead of Science and Logic,) and both only understood and accepted that Hellsing knew what he was doing from his intense and dead serious response to being questioned, and then seeing for themselves that Lucy had slept well, and had color in her cheeks again.

Mrs. Westenra saw none of this. She does not knows who Hellsing is, doesn't know that Lucy trusts him more than she trusts anyone else in the world save for Mina, and she doesn't know that he's helped Arthur save Lucy's life, nor does she know that Seward is in much the same boat, that he'd given his own blood and sleep and sanity for Lucy's sake out of love for her and his friendship with Arthur and Hellsing, who in turn trusts him with Lucy's health and safety.

Mrs. Westenra does know some things though. She knows that doctors, who rely on science and logic, weren't able to catch her heart problems in time to save her life, that she's dying and becoming rapidly unable to take care of her daughter, who is also sick with an illness doctors previously haven't been able to diagnose and treat. It went away on it's own, and came back again worse than ever before later in life, much like Mrs. Westenra's heart problem. This may seem foolish, but part of why I love Dracula is because every character feels like someone you might meet today, rather than a person almost 100 years ago.

How many times have we, the audience, heard of medical malpractice going unpunished and ignored, especially because the target of the malpractice was a woman? There must be at the very least a handful of you. I know from experience (personal and from being there for friends and family) what it's like to be told you're imagining your pain (in hysterics), you're being over-dramatic, (you're hysterical) it's just normal period pain and will go away (women and the constant fainting at the slightest pain, amiright fellas), have you tried losing weight, have you tried exercise and fresh air, have you tried eating this one diet or another, maybe it's all mental, go to this doctor or that and doing exactly as you're told only to be met with a door to the face, and if you're lucky, eventually getting diagnosed and maybe even given medicine for your ailments instead of just a bill and a smack on the ass. Mrs. Westenra finally got a clear answer for herself as it was revealed she's dying. Lucy has yet to get an answer.

So lets put all of this together. Mrs. Westenra is watching as strange men sneak around her home and into her daughter's room, she's just been diagnosed with a disease that is killing her and there's nothing the doctors can do to fix it, I doubt she trusts any doctors right now even though we the audience know she's dealing with a really wonderful doctor, even Mr. Medical Malpractice Warning himself is doing everything in his power to make Lucy well again, and for the first time since his introduction with his proposal to Lucy, he's putting logic aside to be kind to someone who is relying on him for help, promising to wake Lucy from her sleep if she has nightmares. Mrs. Westenra doesn't know this. She's going to die, her daughter is keeping secrets from her, and her saving grace is that Lucy is going to be married to a good and kind gentleman who will use his wealth to keep her relatively healthy seeing as Lucy is going to be his wife, and she can't have anyone making Lucy seem like an unchaste woman lest her plan falls apart and she's not able to make sure her daughter is wed and thus, safe. Mrs. Westenra knows that even gossip of Lucy sleeping around could make the whole thing fall apart, because Arthur has a reputation to uphold, and so does Lucy. Lucy is a new woman in a society where the old ways are dying or being reborn, and likely doesn't understand her mother's fears, knows that her friends would never hurt her, but that doesn't matter in the eyes of society because at the end of the day she is an unwed woman left alone with a man, a prior suitor no less. She walks into her daughters room and sees these men have left flowers everywhere, and worse is that they stink to high heavens.

Lucy seems better, but Mrs. Westenra has never gotten to see what Lucy looked like after Dracula fed on her, so to Mrs. Westenra these heavily scented flowers are going to look like something doing more harm than good. She knows from being raised in an old-fashioned society that fresh air does a lot of good, that's why Lucy went on that vacation with Mina, and she doesn't know how bad Lucy's sleepwalking got because everyone stopped telling her anything after they found out about her heart, at Lucy's behest no less. She feels like fresh air works, and these idiot doctors trained in the new ways (that have proven unhelpful, they couldn't save her could they, so how would they know what Lucy needs?) have gunked up her daughter's room and are inadvertently making her worse with the foul smelling flowers. Mrs. Westenra was probably alive as well when the cholera pandemic was in full swing and explained as being caused by bad air, and she can see her daughter is sick and wants to help her. So she takes the noxious flowers out of Lucy's room and opens the windows, and tries to get the men-folk to understand that they're no longer needed, not understanding herself that her attempt to rid the room of bad air has instead let what's keeping Lucy sick in rather than keeping it out, and by trying to protect Lucy from being preyed upon she has inadvertently let a very evil thing who is going to prey on Lucy in every meaning of the word into her room, where she should have been safe.

She doesn't know she's in a horror novel, and she only has what she can see as evidence. She made the wrong choice because she loves her daughter and is trying to take care of her, even though she's failing miserably because she's applying a bandaid to a burn wound, so to speak. Right now many people hate Mrs. Westenra for her smug attitude and for letting something evil hurt her daughter, for undoing all the hard work Seward and Hellsing have given up sleep and blood for, but I think it's a little unfounded. She's an old fashioned woman in a new world, doing her best for her daughter's sake, and it's not her fault she doesn't know all of the details, and she can't know the details because it will kill her and possibly make Lucy's situation even more dire.

That's what makes Lucy's death so tragic. To save Lucy they'd need to scare Mrs. Westenra and she would die, which would affect Lucy horribly and more than likely kill her as well. If Lucy dies Mrs. Westenra will follow suit. So they have to keep both alive, and that can't happen as long as Dracula has his sights set on Lucy. It's dramatic irony because only we know that it's Dracula, that the garlic helps, that the supernatural is real, that Dracula is a thinking thing that intends to kill Lucy. Van Hellsing can't tell Seward what's killing Lucy, and even if Seward believed Hellsing, he would never be able to tell the Westenras because their health is caught in such a fragile balancing act, and they'd never believe either of them anyways. The only thing that could save Lucy is Jonathan, and he comes back to London far too late, half out of his mind and trying desperately to live the life he'd always wanted with his new wife.

It makes the scene where Dracula well and truly fucks up by feeding on Mina that much more powerful, because Dracula doesn't understand nor realize that Jonathan will kill him for doing to Mina what he had done to Jonathan, and the Harker's friends, Lucy's suitors, experienced firsthand the suffering of losing someone they love more than life itself. Lucy had to die for Dracula to be vanquished. Lucy's mother had to make the bad decision so the story could end with Dracula's death.

Without her death, Lucy's Polycule wouldn't have had the push they needed to band together for the Harkers (who get to have what Lucy lost. Lucy and Arthur could have been married happily, so entirely in love, and seeing as Seward and Quincey both almost had that with Lucy had they not been rejected and are Arthur's closest and most trusted friends, all of them suffering in unison because of Lucy's death, Lucy is the piece that ties everyone together. Everyone in Dracula loves Lucy. The polycule knows what it's like to lose the love of their lives, and they see Dracula trying to put Jonathan through that same suffering, they see Dracula hurting Mina who Lucy arguably loved the most out of any one of them, and decide they can't let it happen ever again.)

#bug barks #bug writes #dracula #re: dracula #I talk about women and medical malpractice done on women here a lot so this is a note to all trasphobes of any damn flavor. DON'T TOUCH #DON'T TOUCH THIS POST WITH YOUR GROSS FUCKING HANDS I SWEAR TO GOD!!! I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY IT BUT HERE WE ARE #TRANSPHOBES DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT #anyways. I feel very sympathetic towards Mrs. Westenra even though it's unwise not to trust Hellsing and she made the worst possible #decision for Lucy today #if you see any spelling mistakes or reference to a character when I clearly mean someone else (switching Lucy and Mina around for instance)#please send me an ask and I'll fix it #dracula daily #dracula spoilers

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 1 year

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Welcome Home Agere Fic - Mama’s Boy

Characters: Poppy Partridge, Frank Frankly, Julie Joyful (at first section)

Setting: Poppy’s Barn (living room, kitchen)

Premise: Frank is having a hard time warming up to his caregivers in little space, but Poppy makes him feel right at home.

Authors Note: I wanna avoid anything angsty here, just cute fluff and cuddlin!! I hope my silly lil fics can bring some light on the WH agere community, lol

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“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about! That is just silly!”

“C’mon Frankie, there’s nothing wrong with being a mama’s boy!”

Frank Frankly and his dearly delightful friend Julie Joyful were having a light banter and bicker as they sat for tea one sunny morning. They had gone back and forth with whatever had come to mind - what new insects Frank had discovered, the latest play from Sally, whatever Wally would have going on - and at some point, regression came to light.

“You’re making such a fuss over something that doesn’t exist!!” Frank protested. Julie was teasing the frowning fellow because, recently, Frank had been harboring a closeness to Poppy Partridge - the town chicken. When times got difficult to handle and they felt themself slip into little space, he would go towards the feathered fellow’s comforting wings and let her take care of him and love him as a small boy. It made him feel comforted and safe, and all their worries would wash away.

And here, he was denying all of that.

“Come onnnnn, Frank!”, Julie teased, “it’s so cute! I guarantee it!” Frank felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment as he leaned back into his seat, gripping the handle to his cup.

“It is not,” he muttered, “it’s nothing more than tomfoolery, buffoonery, silliness I tell you!” Julie pouted, she just couldn’t get to him.

“What’s so wrong with it? Who wouldn’t want someone who’s arms are perfect to fall into and coddle you like a baby, isn’t that what you want? It’s like a dream you can see!” Frank huffed in response, setting down their cup and crossing their arms.

“What I want is to be clear, and dear I am quite clear that this is NOT a real thing!”, he protested, turning his head away from Julie’s sugary-sweet gaze. She sighed, sipping her tea and scooting closer to the grey and gloomy fellow.

“You are quite the stubborn bull, I can see horns growing from you right now!”

Frank rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“But, I won’t push. If you insist that this doesn’t happen, then I won’t fuss you further.”

Frank turned his gaze back, his expression softening slightly. His rosie-cheeked chum simply crossed her legs, leaning in close to his ear and raising a hand close to her mouth. A whisper slipped out.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t cute.”

“JULIE!”

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“A mama’s boy, huh? What’s so wrong with that?” Frank had soon found himself sitting alongside the aforementioned pheasant, Poppy. She had noticed his unusually more sour mood than usual, and had invited him in for a short talk.

“That’s not the biggest issue with this, Poppy… she’s talking about you.” Poppy’s eyes widened after that statement. Her? A mother figure? A complete lie in her eyes.

“Oh goodness, me? A mother?” Poppy further questioned. The frowning fellow nodded, sighing. This made Poppy think for a moment. She was aware of all the times that she had cared for Frank, little or not. On days that he was big, they would talk about the flowers and the bugs that grew around them, or he would help Poppy bake some bread or any new dessert she needed help with. On days that he would go small, she would read him small random facts about any bugs that he wanted to hear about, or just swaddle and hold him for however long he wanted to stay.

In a way, Julie was right. I mean, she sure wasn’t completely right, there were a few things she got wrong. But for the most part, she wasn’t too far off.

“W-Well, if she were right, she wouldn’t be too far off,” the feathered friend noted. Frank shot her a look, his eyebrows furrowed and a small pout on his lips.

“I-I didn’t say she was!”, she frantically corrected, “I was just… hypothetical, be-because if she were, then she wouldn’t exactly be wrong! It’s not a confirmed fact, ho-honest!” Frank simply stared for a bit, before groaning and slumping back into the sofa they sat at.

“It’s just… so embarrassing to me! I don’t want people to think I’m just some innocent and naive infant that needs someone to care for me every second. Is that so hard? To be treated like an adult?” He crossed his arms in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. Poppy hummed and nodded, hesitantly resting a wing on his back as an act of understanding.

“W-Well, I mean… you regress, r-right?” Frank nodded slowly.

“Hmm… w-well, you can still be an, um… adult but also feel comforted by someone, can you not?” The grumpy fellow raised his head a tad, looking up at the bird.

“I mean, um… for me, back when I was a chick just molting, I thought that being seen as a child was the worst possible thing, so I began to bottle up what worries I had and completely shut myself down. It worked, but only for a while, and when it ended… well, all I can say is that I sure was a mess, haha! My m-mom saw me at my worst, and was the first to comfort me. She told me that, well… being an adult is very hard, so it’s ok to cry and-and tell others that you feel bad every now and then. It doesn’t make you feel any less older or any more younger, okay?”

Frank sat there for a moment, his gaze turned away and his arms crossed, and his mind filled with thought.

“Well, even if I did want it, why is it so embarrassing? Why does it make me feel uncomfortable even if I know I need it?”, Frank questioned. It was hours only gripe, as he really wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Umm… m-maybe it’s because you were taught before that it-it was something to be a-ashamed of?”, Poppy responded, “because really, it’s nothing to feel bad over! It-It’s okay to get a hug and a kiss every now and then, heh!”

“So… it’s okay?”

“W-Well, of course!”

It was so new to him for comfort to be something to be celebratory about. All their life he was told to “grow up” and “act like an adult”, otherwise life won’t help you. However, he never really considered that this childish behavior was something to embrace rather than hide. He was shy, but rather grateful for Poppy and even Julie for helping them discover this.

Frank untangled his arms and held them in front of him on his lap, fiddling with his hands. His head felt conflicted but fuzzy and warm, and his hands felt tingly and soft to the touch.

What ironic timing to feel small. Even more ironic that Poppy noticed it.

“Frank, dear?”, she asked, “are you feeling small?” Frank shifted a bit in his seat, nodding hesitantly after a second. He didn’t know how to feel.

He suddenly felt Poppy scoop him up into her wings and onto her lap, his face now buried between her body and her fluffy feathered embrace.

“You should never feel bad about needing a break, honey. Whenever you need one, you can always come to me, okay? My doors are always open… though n-not literally because burglars could come in, hehe!”, Poppy reassured. She kept her arms wrapped around the glum fellow, rubbing his back softly and resting her head against him.

Poppy’s presence soothed Frank, he couldn’t help but melt into her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He smiled, though it didn’t show.

“Th-thank you, mama.”

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#OUGHH MOMMA POPPY AND BABY FRANK…..#giv me so much life #i hope I’m not too rushed with the conclusions #that’s what I’m starting to be scared of lol #i just like the fluff!!!#welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home agere #sfw agere #age regression #agere fic #welcome home poppy #poppy partridge #welcome home frank #frank frankly #gummunity fics

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run-me-through-but-not-like-that · 2 years

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The Softest of Them All

Summary: Izzy Hands can't believe that somebody like you would get his attention. A member of Bonnet's crew, a disgrace of a pirate, too friendly for your own good. He couldn't be more obvious in his pining. Could you give him a chance?

Life was cruel, this was something Izzy had accepted a long time ago. Life was cruel and laughed in the face of those who thought otherwise.

Izzy was certain that some higher power was laughing at him now. Bringing Stede Bonnet into his life, placing him on the deck of the Revenge, having his captain be seduce by the absolute buffoonery that the crew of the Revenge was.

Barely anyone in Bonnet's crew was a decent pirate, which about two exceptions. Buttons knew everything about how to run a ship and had a near supernatural sense for the sea and weather, and Jim was clearly a skilled fighter, even Izzy wouldn't go up against them without thinking about it first.

The rest were next to useless.

And that was probably the biggest joke, wasn't it? You were not a pirate, you might be aboard a pirate ship but you were not a pirate. Izzy knew pirates, had spend nearly his whole life around them, you were not one. You were...fuck, he didn't even know. And yet, it was you that he found himself drawn too.

It was you that Izzy found himself watching when he was supervising the crew, you that had him biting back smiles when you were around. You were infectious. Your kindness, your sweetness, it was even penetrating Izzy's steel walls.

Izzy had ordered you and Frenchie to sew up the spare sail. What he hadn't ordered you to do was to loudly and cheerfully sing some sea shanty while you worked. He had wanted to snap at you both for paying more attention to the song than the task at hand, of course, but when he came closer to inspect your work he found that it was near perfect.

Your sewing was pretty good, you had mentioned something about Wee John having taught you when Izzy had supervised the sewing of the sail and he absolutely hated that he could remember that.

Besides that, you could swab a deck just fine but you really would have to be a new level of useless to mess that up.

Your knots were shit. Though, whenever he told you that, you would frown and ask him to show you how to do it properly. You weren't scoffing at him or rolling your eyes or telling him to do it himself, you wanted to learn and he could appreciate that to an extent.

And when Izzy did pause to show you how to do something properly or more efficiently, you truly listened and gave it your best try. Annoyingly, it was difficult to be angry with you when you were one of the few crew members actually trying to learn. Plus, you certainly seemed the most devoted to learning, evening asking him for lessons on various 'pirate things'. He just closed his eyes and counted to ten when you called it that, he wouldn't snap, not when you were willing to put your best effort in.

So, he taught you some knots, he taught you a little navigation just because you asked (even if you didn't really need to know that in your role aboard the ship), and gave you some sword fighting lessons after you pleaded with him long enough. He couldn't help but find your little lessons refreshing, he would help you in his spare time and it surprisingly helped him unwind.

You weren't a natural but your dedication was admirable, that was enough for Izzy at this point.

"Loverboy is at it again," Lucius came up behind you, making you jump a little.

"Huh? What?" you frowned, looking up from the knots you were tying in the rigging.

"Izzy is watching," Lucius said in a sign song voice. You glanced over the deck to see that Izzy was indeed looking over in your direction, turning away when you met his gaze. "You know that he's all soft on you, right? Like, it's really kinda weird," the scribe commented, turning his nose up slightly.

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, turning back to the task at hand.

"So?" Lucius encouraged, leaning into you.

"So?" you repeated, smiling a little to yourself in amusement.

"I mean I'd definitely sketch him if he accepted the offer but he doesn't really seem like relationship material," you weren't sure which direction Lucius was trying to nudge you, or if he was just looking for something to entertain himself. It had been a slow day, in his defence.

"I don't know what I'm going to do about it yet," you admitted.

"What are your options?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"I mean, I'd like to give him a chance but he's so..."

"Izzy?" Lucius finished for you with a nod of understanding.

"Yeah!" you sighed, finishing your final not and leaning back against the railing. "He's so difficult. I know he's interested in me but he's still all weird about it, like...he's not even that friendly? I don't even know if he's trying to be friendly or not. And he's such a dick to the others," you complained.

"So, if he were to pursue you properly, you'd give it a shot?" Lucius questioned.

"Yeah, definitely. There has to be a softer side to him, right?" you looked to the scribe for some sort of back up that you were right.

"You always see the best in people. Even when it doesn't exist," he reminded you, a sympathetic but fond look on his face.

"I think it exists. Come on, I'm a terrible pirate. If he holds any fondness for me, he can't be all that awful," you pointed out, that had to be something!

"...I suppose that makes some sort of sense," Lucius had to agree before reminding you that, "you'll have to make the move though."

"I know that. Just don't want him to get all defensive or anything," you pondered your options, wondering if Lucius would give his input.

"I doubt the stress is worth it," Lucius shrugged, giving your shoulder a small squeeze.

"I dunno...I'll think about it," you smiled, pushing it to the back of your mind for now. You had time to consider what you would do.

Eating supper with the crew in the galley wasn't Izzy's favourite way to take his meals but this evening he was enduring. He was perched at the end of the bench, putting a small distance between himself and the others, keeping out of their discussions.

You thanked Roach for your serving and turned to the bench. You were the last to come and get your supper, so the bench was early full. There were two places you could sit. Between Frenchie and the Swede, or beside Izzy.

You had an option, and when Izzy took note of you collecting your rations, he just assumed you would take the seat at the other end of the table. You didn't.

"Hey, Iz," you smiled kindly as you sat down beside him.

He eyed you for a moment, as if suspicious of you, before just nodding his greeting. You didn't push him for anything more, busying yourself with peeling your orange and tearing it in half.

"Here," you got his attention again, holding out one half of your orange for him to take.

"I don't need your leftovers," Izzy muttered, eating a spoonful of stew.

"They're not my leftovers, I haven't even started eating yet," you pointed out. "I just noticed that you don't have an orange. I assume your risking scurvy because we're running low on our citrus rations but we're heading for St Augustine so I don't understand why you're doing that," you observed, and Izzy didn't like that.

"Maybe I just didn't want an orange," Izzy huffed, feeling like you had looked through him too easily. He didn't like feeling that predictable, even if he was.

"I know you're not going to admit you're wrong and get your own, so you can have half of mine," you insisted, still holding the half an orange out.

"Fuck off," he rolled his eyes but he knew he would have to give in soon otherwise risk causing a scene and getting the others involved.

"I insist," you placed it in front of him, not even giving him the choice anymore. "It will be refreshing after your stew," you told him.

"You're insufferable," Izzy conceded, accepting the damn orange.

"But you're still sitting here and you've accepted the orange," you claimed your victory with a smile, while Izzy scowled and blushed down at his supper.

It was after supper that you found Lucius up on the deck, finding some peace and quiet to finish up a sketch he had been working on.

"I'm going to give it a proper try," you announced, looking down at where the man was sitting.

"What? Wait, the Dizzy thing?" Lucius asked, looking up from his sketchbook.

"Don't call him that," you sighed, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the scribe.

"He's a prick," Lucius reminded you with a straight face.

"I know," you groaned. "I don't know, I just feel like I'm getting to see another side of him, a glimpse, just like...the tip of the iceberg, y'know?" you tried to explain.

Lucius watched you sympathetically as you paced, gently closing his sketchbook. "Oh, you're down bad."

"I am not," you denied, rolling your eyes.

"I think you might be," Lucius shrugged and you knew that he was right, even if you didn't really want to admit it.

"Whatever," you sighed, coming to a halt in front of the scribe.

"You got a plan?" he asked.

"...kinda?" you considered for a moment before deciding to share it with him, "we're stopping at port next week, hopefully he'll take some shore leave. You know, spend some time together off of the ship. It could help him relax. Not planning on anything specific, just whatever I can get Izzy to agree too."

"Normally I would warn you to not get stabbed but, weirdly enough, I don't think he would even attempt it," Lucius confessed. "He couldn't be more obvious about his pining," at least it had provided him some amusement over the last few weeks.

"So...if he gives you some chores to do before leaving for the day...just do it, yeah? For me?" you asked with a small pout, batting your lashes at him. "It would be best if he wasn't in a terrible mood."

"I promise nothing," Lucius grumbled.

"Thanks, Lucius. Love you!" you flashed him a thankful smile and blew him a kiss before leaving him to his sketching.

The day that the ship stopped at port, you turned down all the offers to go drinking with the crew before they all filed off of the ship. Instead, you waited until you saw Izzy leaving the ship (thankful that he even did).

When you saw him disembarking, you waited a moment so that it wasn't too obvious that you had been waiting for him. Then you left the ship and broke into a light jog to catch up with him.

"Hey, Iz, got any plans?" you asked, coming up by his side and matching his pace.

Izzy looked at you for a moment out the corner of his eye and sighed. "Got some business to take care of," he told you, assuming that would make you groan and hurry off. That's how most of the crew reacted to the idea of work.

"Mind if I tag along?" why did you never react the way he thinks you will?

"Wouldn't you rather be...doing whatever the crew is doing?" Izzy asked, squinting at you.

"Nah, they're probably just spending all their coin on drink. I can do that with them another time," you laughed a little. "So, can I tag along? I'll stay out of the way, I promise."

Izzy looked at you again, like he was assessing you. "Yeah, yeah, alright. Just don't cause any trouble," he gave you a firm nod.

"You have my word," you promised.

You followed Izzy around the port that he obviously seemed familiar with, asking questions between meetings with various people. He told you a little bit about the port, how this was one of the safer ports for pirates and for Blackbeard's flag. He had even told you a story about coming here years ago with Edward and somebody called Jack.

Izzy wasn't a talkative person, at least not when it came to personal matters, so you listened to every word and cherished the slightly more relaxed state he was in.

The two of you came out from another random building after speaking with somebody you didn't know, but somebody Izzy had clearly met before.

"That was my last meeting, you can go drink with the crew now if you like," Izzy informed you. He didn't know why you would want to tag along while he worked but he figured you wouldn't want to hang around him for much longer.

"Are you stopping for a drink?" you asked.

"No, going back to the ship. Somebody has to make sure it's in decent shape."

"Well, will you come and have a drink with me? Just one drink, to celebrate a job well done. The rest of the crew doesn't have to be there."

Izzy frowned a little as he turned to you fully. Why did you have to be so difficult for him to understand. "...why?"

"Like I said, celebrating a job well done," you repeated, even though you very clearly had ulterior motives. "What? Can I not want to share a drink with you?"

"Fine, whatever. But a different tavern than the crew," Izzy begrudgingly agreed but it made you smile. You knew that he wouldn't give in so easily to another member of the crew.

"Shouldn't be too difficult!" you assured him cheerfully.

The two of you easily found a pub that the crew hadn't gathered in and headed to the bar to get your drinks.

Izzy sat beside you at the bar, his head down and swirling his drink around in his glass.

"Penny for your thoughts," you broke the silence.

"Haven't got any," Izzy mumbled, taking a sip of his dark drink.

"Well that's a bold face lie. I think you've got more thoughts than any of us," you mused. Whenever you looked at that man you could see the thoughts rolling around in his head.

"That's not saying much," Izzy shrugged slightly.

You laughed a little, nudging his shoulder with your own. You didn't think he meant any real harm by it and you appreciated that he was joking with you to some extent.

"I mean it. You always look like...like there's so much going on in your head. It must be tiring," you told him sincerely, not a trace of mockery in your voice. Once again, Izzy just looked at you, clearly in thought. "See, I can practically hear all those thoughts swirling around. It's practically deafening," you teased fondly.

Izzy tore his gaze away, staring back down at his glass. "Bonnet's a shit pirate and a shit captain. He pays a salary with money he inherited, he's not actually making a profit, we don't raid enough. The crew is insane, it's a miracle the ship is still above the waves," he said.

"That's what you're always thinking about?" you asked with a small frown.

"It's part of it," he shrugged, sipping from his glass. "Can't wrap my head around the whole thing, if I'm being honest. Doesn't make any sense," he confessed.

"Stede is...yeah, he doesn't know how to be a pirate, but he's trying to do right by all of us. In a way we're lucky to have signed on with him rather than anyone else," you defended your captain. All of you knew he didn't know how to be a pirate or what to expect once out at sea, but he was doing good by you all.

"You confuse the hell out of me," Izzy finished his drink and ordered another, like that would distract you from what he said.

"Me? Why?" you questioned, eyes widening slightly.

"You're so fucking...I don't even know. Nice?" Izzy's face scrunched up, and you weren't completely sure what that meant.

"Sorry, that must be terrible for you," you joked, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

"I'm an asshole. I know I am. I'm worse with Bonnet's lot because they don't fucking listen but I've always been a prick. Why the fuck do you have to be so polite about it?" he asked, looking to you like he was genuinely struggling to find a sensible answer.

"Nobody who gets into pirating has the easiest of lives. Some of us claw and scratch and kick to make sure we rise above it, don't let it drown us. Some of us let's it harden us, make sure it can't touch us anymore, keep ourselves safe," you said sombrely. "Life is full of cruelty, I refuse to contribute to it," you said it as if it was that simple, as if it were a choice.

Izzy watched you, like he seemed so fond of doing today, with unreadable thoughts rushing behind his eyes. He nodded tightly, knocking back his second drink as you finished your first.

"You want another or are you done?" Izzy asked, some sort of determination on his face.

"Uh, not much of a drinker," you shrugged, pushing your empty glass away.

"Alright. Let's go for a walk," Izzy cleared his throat and stood from the barstool.

"Yeah, that sounds nice," you smiled, standing with him.

Izzy muttered something under his breath, the two of you leaving the pub together. It had gotten dark out now, the moon rising in the sky. The two of you had kept busy all day.

You followed Izzy through the port, closer to his side than you had been earlier.

"What do you know about stars?" Izzy asked you out of nowhere.

"Uh...they're pretty?" your answer actually made Izzy laugh, and that put an idiotic grin on your face.

"Suppose they are," Izzy agreed. "C'mon," he nodded at you, leading you away from town.

You followed him down to the beach, curious but not speaking as he sat down in the sand. You just sat beside him.

Izzy pointed up at the sky, beginning to talk about the way the stars grouped together. And just like that Izzy Hands started giving you a lesson on the stars, how to navigate by them, and occasionally recalling a tale that his mother had told him about them.

He found that he liked the feeling of being listened too.

You would lean in, practically against him, to see which accumulation of stars he was pointing too. You would stare up at the sky with a smile as he explained how to follow the stars. You would watch his face intently when he talked about tales and fables that his mother had told him, the ones he could remember anyway, while he flushed under your undivided attention.

"What was your mother like?" you asked when he came to the end of his last story.

Izzy took a breath and tensed slightly, you just waited. Either he would answer or he wouldn't, you wouldn't push him. "She was...she was a good woman, deserved better than my father," was what he eventually told you.

"Do you remember her well?"

"Not well enough. Got on my first ship when I was about...twelve I think. Was the second youngest in a big family, just had to get out of there after she got sick," Izzy told you. You wondered how many people got to hear even the slightest thing about his mother, you wondered if he had told anyone else the fables she had shared with him.

"I'm sorry," you cautiously reached over and took his hand in yours, the one without a glove. Izzy tensed a little again but then relaxed, allowing it.

"What? You the one responsible for making people sick back in England decades ago?" Izzy asked sarcastically.

"It's just what people say," you huffed, pressing your shoulder against his. "I'm sorry you had to experience that."

Izzy just shrugged, unsure of what to say, and once again you didn't press.

Instead, you rested your head against his shoulder, your hand still in his. As you looked out at the inky water, admiring the way the moon and stars reflected in its surface, you felt Izzy turn his hand slightly so that he could lace his fingers through yours.

The moment of peace could only last a little longer before the sound of laughing and shouting disturbed you both.

"For fucks sake," Izzy cursed as you both turned towards the sound, seeing the crew drunkenly making their way along the beach. Probably planning a night time swim before turning in for the night.

"C'mon," you spoke quietly, tugging on Izzy's hand. "If we move now, they won't even notice we were here," you told him.

Izzy nodded, smiling a little as you both stood up. You led him in the opposite direction of the crew, his hand still in yours. Fingers still laced together.

"Should head back to the ship," Izzy removed his hand from yours as you stepped back into town, you tried not to let it sting a little.

"Yeah, sure, let's head back," you agreed and he just nodded.

The two of you returned to the ship and walked up onto the deck. "You sure you don't want to catch up with the crew?" Izzy asked, almost looking...apologetic? Like you would regret choosing to spend the day with him.

"Nah. I'm going to get some sleep without their snoring," you assured him, making him chuckle a little, reminded of all the reasons he liked having his own cabin.

"Alright," Izzy nodded.

"I had a good time today, we should do it more often," you suggested. Izzy just nodded again, silently agreeing.

You smiled as you stepped up to him, kissing his cheek before wandering off to the bunks.

Izzy found himself frozen to the deck for a moment, stunned by your show of affection. Breaking out of his small trance, he cursed and shook his head at himself before marching down to his cabin.

The next day you were checking the storeroom to make sure that the crew got the right amount of supplies, since you were one of the few not nursing a hangover.

The sound of somebody entering the storeroom and closing the door made you turn around, growing suspicious at the sight of a smirking Lucius.

"How did it go?" he questioned.

"Good. Thank you for asking," you smiled sweetly, knowing what you were doing. Honestly, you should have expected the interrogation.

"Going to need more details than that," Lucius huffed impatiently before teasing, "was a little disappointed when we came back and you were asleep in the bunks."

"Lucius!" you laughed, slapping him on the chest before getting back to work.

"But it went well?" Lucius asked, sounding a little less playful this time.

"Yeah. We got some work done, went for a drink, sat on the beach," you told him with a soft smile, thinking back on the night.

"Huh, that's almost romantic," Lucius said approvingly.

"We were stargazing," you added.

"Oh now that is romantic! I'm proud of you," Lucius was grinning now. Fascinated by the thought of Izzy stargazing on a beach, being on a date.

The storeroom door opened again, making you both turn. "What the fuck are you two doing in here?" Izzy demanded, looking between you both.

"Double checking the supplies, like you asked," you answered, knowing he wasn't directing the question at you.

"Uh...helping?" Lucius tried.

"Fuck off, go do something useful," Izzy snapped, stepping out of the way of the door.

Lucius just nodded before slipping out of the storeroom. "That was almost polite for you," you teased as the door closed again.

"Blackbeard wants me to check in with an old contact before we leave. You coming?" Izzy asked dismissively.

You bit back an amused smile. He had come to ask you to join him, that was sweet. "Are you asking me to go with you?" you asked.

The two of you just stared at each other, each of you waiting for the other to surrender.

"Fine, yes," Izzy sighed, conceding first. "I'm asking. Do you want to come with me?"

"Yeah, I'd love too, Iz," you smiled, hoping to put any nerves or frustrations he had at ease.

"Finish up in here, meet me on deck," he nodded, reaching for the door.

"Iz, wait," you stepped forward, gently catching his wrist. Izzy looked back at you curiously, unable to question you before you lent in and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Thanks for inviting me, I'll be up in a minute," you told him casually.

Izzy nodded dumbly, the corner of his mouth tingling, before he left the storeroom without a word.

You finished up checking the supplies, which were all correctly purchased, with a beaming smile on your face.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd x reader

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sunieepo · 3 months

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honestly, if i may, all of this talk about the way people treat trans women has reminded me of an experience i still remember vividly back when i was peripherally part of the tumblr / twitter mfrp community. which please note i was never a very active participant, i personally found mfrp very boring and so i was never really fully integrated into these communities - but while i was in them i did befriend a few trans women and i noticed a very persistent pattern in these supposed LGBT-friendly spaces regarding the moderation of trans women.

there was a persistent issue in multiple different mfrp communities i was peripherally involved in, in which trans women would always be regarded as "abrasive" or "aggressive", for making the same kinds of comments and jokes that tme people were making. and the (majority tme) moderation teams would almost always rule against trans women, silencing them or labeling them as deviants / weirdos for behaviors that they would be much more forgiving towards tme people for.

as a sort of bystander i didn't really have a leg in to comment on the actions of moderation teams, i could only offer being a friend to trans women as i watched them be ostracized from these spaces by the very same people who would plaster "terfs dni" all over their bios. i'm not saying this to pat myself on the back, there is definitely more i could have done in those situations, but i do want to call out why all these "fuck terf" type posts just never really resonate with me, seeing them be rbed by people who i know would just jump at the opportunity to demonize a trans woman again (and i just saw it happen earlier with that stupid shit slinging post falsely accusing a trans woman of something she didn't even do regarding cohost...) (i'm aware op of that post apologized for their behavior but what occurred is what occurred)

it's not enough to say "fuck terfs" and i hate that people always center on the buffoonery of terf behavior instead of centering and caring for and supporting the trans women in their lives. it's really frustrating for me to watch as a staunch feminist to continually see the way the lgbt community has let down trans women. the recent wave of discourse regarding "transandrophobia" is also extremely worrying to me - i have seen a non-insignificant number of posts made by certain people in that community that claim that the lgbt community is Too centered on trans women: as if it's a competition, and as if the visibility of trans women is somehow a boon to them rather than a consequence of people using their cause to simply be performative instead of genuinely uplifting and loving.

sorry this isn't the most well thought-out post, i'm just rambling and i have a lot of complicated feelings on this. i don't want to derail what's happening right now too much by bringing up other topics, but i will say i do think it's inevitable that at some point we do need to confront some of the "transandrophobia truther" type sentiments i've seen lately, because they absolutely are damaging to trans women and lead to situations exactly like this.

please, if nothing else, i really hope everyone takes this as an opportunity to be kind to the trans women in their lives. the least you could do is offer them your support. reblogging posts dunking on transmisogynists is not enough. we need to make our communities safer for trans women, and that doesn't end with car hammer explosion memes.

rbs off because i'm not interested in centering my voice as a tme person and this post isn't really something polished i want escaping from my social circle. if you're a mutual of mine and you're feeling unsure about my stance on some of the topics mentioned above, my DMs are open and i am happy to discuss, but at the very least all i ask is for us to be better to trans women. that's all.

#transmisogyny #if you're going to unfollow me for this post #i kindly request you block me first because i am very suspicious of why you would.#also sorry if anyone who sees this is familiar with the situations i described in the first few paragraphs.#i'm not trying to call anyone out in specific.#sunie posts

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eoieopda · 1 year

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i’m going to discuss this one (1) time in full and then i will no longer devote my time, energy, or blog space to this topic. i simply cannot be assed to keep having this conversation. i will continue to block these anons as they pop up. in fact, i'll see y'all in a minute when you inevitably come calling.

here’s the tldr for anyone who is curious but does not have the capacity and/or desire to continue seeing this shit*.

*i have neither, and yet this is somehow still not over??

this whole thing is both buffoonery and goonery. i am so, so tired.

the people doing this are more concerned with hurting M and M’s friends than they are with their allegations of racism.

it’s gross as hell that people have misappropriated and devalued what could’ve been a meaningful discussion about an important topic... to instead shit on people they don't like.

i see you, besties 👀

tw: racism as written by white creators & as i have personally experienced (examples of micro-aggressions, racist messages i’ve received, etc.,) anonymous messages, harassment, cyberbullying.

p.s. i recognize that this is an exercise in futility and that literally nothing will convince these people to stop. i also recognize that saying something will probably make things worse for me. that's a problem for future jade™️, though, because present jade™️ is on one.

as we’re all aware, somebody is engineering an anonymous hate train against some of the writers on this site. these anons have been in their feelings (and the inboxes of writers, hate blogs, their own vagueposts, etc.) for weeks.

for what is probably the 100th time: my opinions are my own. i speak for myself, loudly and exclusively. not everyone is going to agree with me; that’s fine. my problem is not — and has never been — that people have different opinions than i do about the things i’m about to discuss. i’ll get into that later.

where it started:

an anon sent a message to a tea blog (read: hate blog) about M, who is white. the anon’s stated issue was that M included a depiction of racism/xenophobia in a chapter of a fic; and anon didn't feel that they should have. the position they took (if it existed in a vacuum) was valid and within their right to take. the way they went about all of this (by posting on a hate blog? in the year of our lord 2023?) was — in my opinion — sus as hell.

and that was before we all figured out what was happening here.

my position on white ppl writing about racism:

if a white writer can’t depict nuance or demonstrate any meaningful understanding of the issues they want to discuss, it’s my opinion that they have no business doing so.

for example: i’ve seen stories by white writers in which BIPOC react exclusively with violence or harsh words when confronted with racism. this, to me, is an “orange flag” because actual BIPOC have to do a lot of calculating in these situations. sure, the impulse to hulk out is there, but so is the risk that our immediate safety would be compromised further by hulking out. if that ^ kind of consideration isn’t fleshed out, i have a problem. when i see that ^ in stories, it tells me that the writer is not viewing the events they’re writing about through the lens of someone who actually experiences them and has not done their due diligence.

when i read racism as written by white authors, i primarily look at four things:

is the racist action depicted believable, or is it clear that the writer has absolutely no clue what they’re trying to talk about & made no attempts to learn?

does the inclusion of racism make sense in the context provided, or was it included for nefarious purposes (shock value, wokeness points™️, etc.)?

is there inclusion of the characters’ race, ethnicity, and/or culture in the fic outside their experiencing racism, or is that the only representation we get?

how do the characters process/react to this racism?

important context:

at the time i read the fic that sparked this whole ordeal, i’d just “met” M. this was around the time we became mutuals and started getting to know each other. all that to say, when i read this fic and formed an opinion on it, that was done as a reader, not a friend.

not as an “ass-licker,” “boba liberal,” worshipper of whiteness, and/or whatever else these anons have called me, either.

my opinion on the fic/situation hasn’t changed now that we are friends. if anything, getting to know M as a person (and not just as a writer whose fics i liked) has reinforced my opinion. regardless of what these anons have said, the M i know is a deeply empathetic and supportive friend. they consistently uplift me — and others — and make me feel seen/heard.

the only people who are indicating otherwise haven’t publicly identified themselves or stated any basis upon which their opinions (or borderline obsessive behaviors) are founded.

for what it’s worth, none of them that i’ve seen have even claimed to be asian. this will become relevant in a moment.

my position on the fic in question:

i'm a korean immigrant living in the united states. the chapter in question showed racism experienced by korean people in the united states. i'm qualified to make up my own damn mind about this.

i didn't have a problem with it, based on that four-part analysis i described up yonder. here's why:

(1) the depiction was of something i personally experience on a semi-frequent basis. in my life, racism often takes the form of micro-aggressions, as was the case in the chapter.

for example: being compared to people i look nothing like and/or aren’t korean simply because they’re also asian; people rolling their eyes when i correct the pronunciation of my (obviously) asian name like it’s not worth their effort; and tokenism/fetishizing, as if i’m a collectible item based on where i was born and not a full-fledged human being who is many things beyond simply being korean.

in my opinion, M’s portrayal of this more “subtle” racism (aka no slurs, no violence, etc.) was believable. to me, them making this choice demonstrated an understanding of what others experience, despite not experiencing it themselves.

(2) the scene made sense to me in the context of the chapter. bts encountered racism when they broke into the US, and the characters were in the US for an award show. frankly, i appreciated the acknowledgment of how asian immigrants/international tourists are treated in america because it’s not something i noticed non-asian people pointing out at all until COVID hit.

(3) the MC is a reader-insert who lives in korea and speaks korean. yoongi is obviously korean. the racism/xenophobia experienced by the characters in this chapter is not the only time i saw these things depicted in this series. importantly, the other references to korean culture were thoughtfully made, and they were either neutral or positive, not negative. the conclusion i came to was that M took this seriously, as they should have.

(4) the reaction of the characters is one i frequently have (not engaging, walking away) and i think it was communicated well in this scene why they reacted the way they did.

this was significant to me.

reading that, i got the impression that M had discussed this with BIPOC in their life and listened when they shared their experiences. that impression turned out to be accurate, though i didn’t have confirmation of this at the time i read the fic.

(conclusion) if i thought that any of these four things weren’t handled well, i would’ve brought my thoughts to M directly because it is important that these conversations happen. it’s also important that white writers listen. from where i’m standing, M has been open to those conversations with others, on or off anon. i believe that they do take this feedback to heart; and that they were taking steps to remedy those things — prior to being bullied off the platform at the end of april.

why ✨ i ✨ have a problem

i’ve discussed this issue already here, but i’ll elaborate further.

i have no reason whatsoever to believe that these anons are/were looking for changed behavior or remedial action because they continued to harass M — on M's blog, through the hate blog, and on the blogs of literally any person who has so much as perceived them — when M was addressing the issue. based on that, i have serious doubts that these anons care about the issue of racism the way they purport to. worse, they’re now harassing BIPOC in their inboxes and on the aforementioned hate blog.

on park jimin's internet, no less!

i haven’t spent much time discussing the substantive issue (hence this post) but have been very vocal about how shitty the anons’ behavior is. again, see here for the only take i’ve posted thus far (spoiler alert: cyberbullying is bad.)

for reasons that aren’t clear to me, that take resulted in metric ton of shit in my inbox. here’s a small sampling of what i've been forced to read with my own two (2) eyes in the past 24 hours:

*i did not include screenshots of other users’ inboxes in which anon messages reference me, or untagged submissions on the hate blog that very clearly allude to me.

at some point ?? they were mad about racism ?? but now the racism ?? is calling from inside the house ??????

and one last thing before i go touch grass….

i have reason to believe that this entire situation was orchestrated by small people with big feelings about M as a person, not about what they wrote. that’s not my story to tell, though, so i won’t.

when this shit kicked up, the majority of us who were/are being harassed installed IP trackers on our blogs because the identity of these people was suspected but not confirmed. that means we can see who they are, what they do on our blogs, and how many times per day they view our blogs (hint: a lot). we know that they are jumping from one blog to another as if they’re stopping on a goddamn mail route.

some of us (myself included) have alerts set to notify us via email when they pop by for a visit.

their presence on my blog this week lines up with the hostile and blatantly racist anonymous messages i’ve been receiving. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.

they’re either the ones sending them, or they’re lurking to see if/how i react to these messages.

that’s categorically fucked up.

#jade speaks #jade engages in discourse #psa #tw racism #tw harassment #tw bullying

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tiredlinguist · 1 year

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The fact the transphobic line is said by a man who laughs at the others for their “quaint little categories” and can, in canon, literally get pregnant is just… who the fuck thought that worked honestly

NO YOURE SO RIGHT??? like you’re telling me jack harkness. THE captain jack harkness. is transphobic? absolute nonsense. buffoonery even

#torchwood #asks

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tezzbot · 5 months

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howm do u feel bout silver n espio :3

I LOOOVE their dynamic actually. It is a really interesting and honestly kind of a strange matchup, but after watching bits from their side of sr2 and the comic from the annual? It's like really cool to see how they do Outside of where they're usually grouped?

Like Espio is. Pretty much (in comedic terms) the straight man of the Chaotix right, given Charmy and Vectors general sillygoofy natures. But then you take him out of that context and That's where it's most prominently highlighted that he is absolutely a fucking clown as well lmfao like he wouldn't be a chaotix if he wasn't also into the general buffoonery they get up to (like yes he gets embarrassed about it sometimes but he Does go along with their shit, he's just teenager<33) and that's something I really appreciate about Espio as a character himself is that no matter how seriously he might try to take himself, how hes literally an actual ninja, he's still just kind of a lame teen boy who's little brother thinks he sucks lol

I think he works well with Silver because Silver tends to be pretty frantic and he is literally displaced in time he's a little all over the place, so teaming him with more grounded characters Like Espio (Blaze is also a good example here) creates a nice balance to their dynamic, and the comic of him helping Silver calm down shows this p well and there is a moment in sr2 where something similar happens when Silver runs out of energy and Espio sits him down and lets him fully explain what's going on and that's a grounding thing to do to fully run through what is happening and what needs to get done

I think also, having Espio being more open with Silver is cool Because Silver is more similar ages with him, and I think that's also like. An interesting angle to take with Espio's character, since (afaik) he's never really shown to have any real deeper connection than acquaintance with anyone his own age except maybe Knuckles, and even then that's an extremely underutilised dynamic (THAT I WISH THEY WOULD USE MORE GRRGHRHRGH) so like actually having another pretty socially inept lol teenager for him to connect with is a good channel to think about their sort of dynamic in

Going off of that maybe, because Silver is still learning to be social, that also opens up the door for Espio learning too? But also he's so introvert I think he's more comfortable being alone and maybe Silver learns the worth of some alone time from that too? As well as from Whisper and stuff like that. Maybe they do alone together time in the garden, parallel play<3 lol

But yeah tgey r cool and I hope we get to them interact more in the future snile

#tezztalks #sorry this is like. mostly about Espio I love lizard lmfao #holds my ship cards close to my chest #lmfao

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saintsenara · 1 year

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If you're feeling the violence, I'd love to hear your thoughts on 1, 8, 18 or 25 😈

thank you for the questions from the choose violence ask game, anon!

1. who is the character everyone gets wrong?

obviously, this is caveated with read and write and interpret characters how you want, but sirius, 100%.

and i'm not just referring to the womanising, prank-playing, "you're not serious?"/"yes, I am" version of fanon, but also the dark-aristocrat!sirius which has been created in many fics to counter this portrayal.

i find myself really not fond of a sirius who is, at any one time, one argument with dumbledore away from becoming a death eater; who finds himself saying "mudblood"; who feels more comfortable around characters like lucius malfoy than he does lily; and who would happily take a hereditary seat [not a thing!] on the same wizengamot that will later sentence him to azkaban without a trial.

yes, sirius undoubtedly had a lot to unlearn from his childhood, and i think we are absolutely supposed to suspect that this included blood-supremacist prejudice. yes, sirius' capacity for arrogance and cruelty and ruthlessness are very voldemort-ish characteristics. yes, the difficulty sirius has with reconciling the fact that many death eaters are his own flesh-and-blood is obvious in canon.

but once he made the choice to stand against voldemort his rejection of the world he came from was total. as long as he loves james - and he will always love james - there is nothing on earth that could drag him back.

[i'm also going to answer this by mentioning the concept everyone gets wrong, because this truly does annoy me: occlumency.]

contrary to what you see if you read any snape-centric pairing, occlumency is not the total shutting down of all emotion. it is controlling your emotions, under enormous mental pressure, to an extent which allows you to lie fluently. putting up occlumency walls/shields is not a thing - or, not a thing as fanon uses it - and snape is not a good occlumens because he's emotionally repressed, he's a good occlumens because he's petty.

8. what is a common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about?

there is not a single soul on earth incapable of redemption.

i do not want to see another 1000-note tumblr post or 500-comment reddit circlejerk about how malfoy or snape or whoever you want to choose is irredeemable; that their crimes are so heinous there is never any space - in canon or fanon - for them to be forgiven.

the harry potter series is not morally spotless by any means, but one thing it does - in my opinion - do right is highlight the complex and combined power of failure, grief, regret, atonement, and forgiveness, and how this is a weapon in the face of hatred, rage, and arrogance.

and it's an important lesson! at some point in all of our lives we will fuck up badly - maybe even to the extent of joining a terrorist group intent on murdering our peers [i come from northern ireland, i've seen it happen; and this is in "peacetime", when the lure of the paramilitaries is a fraction as strong as it was during the troubles] - and we will long to be forgiven. and we will deserve it.

to be human is to have access to the fragile, beautiful possibility of atonement. even if you're as much of a knob as draco malfoy.

18: it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

the fact that hagrid is a death eater.

i'm being facetious here, but i would love to see more fics which explore the idea that hagrid's deranged buffoonery is all an act, allowing one of the most evil men in history to operate under dumbledore's nose.

"he is at hogwarts, that faithful servant". so true, my lord, and he's teaching care of magical creatures.

25: what is a common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing?

this is a call-out post for myself, because i complain about this all the time, which is petty and boring and i need to get the fuck over it.

yes, ideally stories will be britpicked, but, in the grand scheme of things, americanisms etc. don't matter.

we are all just having fun writing our little stories and drawing our little pictures and offering them, tentatively, to the world. we are creating something free in a society increasingly hostile to such things. we are finding community. we all deserve to be proud of what we've done, even if we don't understand how london geography operates or we think ron's slamming down a stack of pancakes and a 20oz soda every morning, and brits whinging about sweater v jumper or mum v mom [anyway, real ones know you call her your mam] doesn't contribute to that and should be avoided.

[other answers from this ask game]

#asks answered #choose violence ask game #i stand by what i said #especially about hagrid #the man is a monster

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