#I don't have a problem with you or your shipping preferences?

[sitp-recs]

i bet you've seen this one plenty of times before, but:

can you rec some drarry fics where jealousy is an important motif? it can be infidelity if they're an established couple, or just getting with someone else while the two of them are dancing around one another. would be great to see recs both where harry is jealous and where draco is jealous. i prefer a happy ending, but i'll be grateful either way.

since i'm here let me also say i admire what you do, your incredible ability to recall and sort through so many stories. this fandom is lucky to have you! <3

Hello friend! Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate it ❤️ here are some fics centered on jealousy. I did a few other lists for this trope over the years, you can find them here, here and here.

Jealous Harry:

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6.5k)

Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (E, 7k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (E, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (E, 84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback (E, 94k)

A love story told in two somewhat unreliable parts, over six years. Featuring secret shagging, to friends, to the 'how is it fair for someone to say your name like that' sort of friends, to, finally, someone you could call a home.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

Jealous Draco:

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (E, 6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (E, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.” “It’s not me though, is it?” Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself.

The Partner, The Rival and The Very Big Case by oceaxe (E, 24k)

When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

[dilemmaed]

I wouldn’t usually do this… but if you have a problem with me tagging a Mileven scene as clearly Mileven then don’t reblog the post. It was just an innocent post in the season two era to show how much Mike cares about her showing a parallel to another character who does too. You probably don’t care that you’ve upset me. It wasn’t meant to be hijacked by people who have an agenda about Mike and El. We have different opinions. I get that. It’s just rude. Sorry. I remember when the fandom wasn’t like this.

tried to think of a proper response to this but uh... sorry?

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[thatbuddie]

you seriously cannot make this up: you have people reblogging fic featuring a racist character as half of the main ship in the morning then trying to give morality lessons in the evening by calling others homophobic over a joke.

THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE, BABES.

[beastsovrevelation]

I do wonder whether underappreciating Adriel x Lilith is just the fandom being boring in rejecting m/f (sorry not sorry, no hate from this bi girl, but nothing will surpass the Satan and Lilith dynamic), or, is it because the ship is so underdeveloped.

We see Adriel "tempt" Lilith, I talk about it here. I'ts great, I loved it.

Then, there's the final battle. We see them be an evil villain power couple together.

We even see Lilith be soft towards Adriel for a moment.

But, that's it. She turns on him, without us even understanding why. It wasn't because he's evil and crazy, she knew he was evil and crazy. Also, I refuse to believe she woke from his spell, I refuse to believe she was under a spell at all. He offered her what the OCS couldn't (and by that, I don't mean his rod). That's why she chose him. Maybe Reya played with her head, I don't know, but that would be insulting to her arc.

There's a gaping chasm between Lilith turning to Adriel, and the final battle. What were they doing during their time together? Drinking brandy and scheming? Performing blood rituals? Going on dates? What did they talk about, how did they bond (more)? It would have been great, to see the situation from their angle, at least a bit. To find out what they're thinking. Lorena and William portrayed great chemistry, why not use it? Also, their interactions could've revealed more about the Other side to us.

Warrior Nun did a lot of things brilliantly. Adriel is a wonderful villain, he's one of my favorite characters in the world. But, his dynamic with Lilith was left barebones. They both deserved more screentime in general, it's such a shame the season was shorter. Some things seem rushed because of it. I would've loved to see Lilidriel fleshed out more.

Also, I'm still bitter the creators screwed with the Satan and Lilith pairing by having her ditch him. You don't sUbVeRt that pair. I forgive a lot in the name of an author's license, I don't forgive that. At least she went away on her own path.

[philtatosbuck]

you would be fucking lying if you said that women, including canonical love interests but especially women of color, don’t get pushed aside or demonized for big m/m ships (an example including something i personally ship: anyone who has ever been paired with eddie or buck!. other examples? those dudes from the witcher. st*r*k and the treatment of those fans towards malia and braeden.) and to take people talking about that as a slight against you personally preferring a m/m ship is weird as fuck. “people pair them up with other women all the time!!” no one said they didn’t??? the issue here is specifically when those women are demonized and written off and hated for being with those men. not that people prefer different ships. you’re either ignorant as hell or being deliberately obtuse. either way you sound stupid as hell

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Poked my head into some of @mysticdragon3md3′s thoughts regarding popularity with DimiClaude fanon and am happy to say I’m here to Talk (tee em).

I also saw the post from the user saying why they were falling out of love for the ship, and... yeah. The people they’re talking about, the generalized group of people who do certain things, definitely bother me as well.

I love that you pointed out Claude is not flirty and is just playful. It’s not the DimiClaude fandom alone unfortunately with that though - it’s the entire fanbase that views him as a flirt. And, according to Twitter, a slut. Yeah. Yeah. I know what they... “mean”... but it is still not him.

Them being annoyed with each other is also fanon and a very strange one. Never in Houses did Dimitri come across as being annoyed or bothered by him. In fact, they have friendly banter! Dimitri doesn’t get specifically exasperated at Claude, but that’s just more so how he is as a person and he sometimes doesn’t understand playfulness. That said, he does not berate Claude the way he berates others. There’s one instance I can think of where he berated Claude and that was in the DLC when they were talking to Aelfric for the first time.

In Hopes, same deal in AG. In fact, he’s quite fond of Claude in AG. GW itself was a well discussed mess in a lot of ways, and even then as a ship they didn’t have a lot of negativity. If nothing else it was an odd opposite, because even as enemies when Claude admitted he couldn’t defeat Dimitri alone, Dimitri just basically laughed, smirked and walked away. That’s like... the worst of their relationship in GW and it’s extremely mellow.

I think part of the problem some dmcl fans are facing are the fanon version of the ship rather than what they’re like in canon. It is definitely true that part of the dmcl fandom has absolutely warped the ship into being something it really isn’t and never was in canon. There’s also this whole thing about Dimitri being the dominant, feisty one with Claude being the uwu blushy one and it’s just... not them. Not as a pair canonically, and not individually. When Dimitri gets “dominant”, he’s, uh, not in a good mental state. It’s a mental illness that makes him like that and personally I’ve never appreciated seeing people use it for a kink for a ship. Normally I’d say people can like what they want, but I get the feeling a lot of dmcl fans have absolutely pushed their views onto others and driven fans away.

I will also say have absolutely, 150% come across those kinds of fans. The ones who refuse to listen to anyone else, but if your headcanons don't vibe with them then you’re just completely “wrong”. Not only do they portray the canon characterization poorly if portraying it at all, but they tend to also bring it down a racist route, which is... beyond ironic considering they should be the last ship that deals with that based on their characters and stories.

Engage kinda went wonky with a good few things regarding the previous lords, so I don’t see Dimitri being like that as some kind of definite canon. Actually, even in Heroes their interactions are friendly and calm. The “worst” banter they had was their swim alts, while on the opposite end we have the brave alts who apparently hang out together outside of the castlegrounds, and for so long that they can’t be of any help in a search for someone (which like lol how long you gotta be gone to have no idea and can’t help at all lmao).

I think people see outside-Houses canon scenes like those and just... decide it’s their actual canon. Dimitri is not, in any way, actually mean to Claude in canon. That is unfortunately a very popular fanon. In Houses especially, when Dimitri doesn’t know Claude well in the mock battle he’s more like ummm hey Claude your defenses are open what are you even doing, more than being like ugh Claude you’re so annoying. In the real version of that mock battle though, a good few months had passed and their battle quotes are significantly more approachable and they clearly have respect for each other. Dimitri knows Claude likes to fuck around and be goofy sometimes, and he picked up on that and played along with it in the JP version (in the English version he simply picks up on it, but there’s no anger whatsoever and it’s just more oh okay I get it).

As far as Engage goes, ultimately I just see it more as an extremely condensed version of their mannerisms, and yes, they for some reason, especially in the localized versions, try to keep up the whole rival shtick when Dimitri never even felt that way about Claude, and he never gets truly annoyed at Claude. Ffs, in canon Dimitri literally drops everything after retaking his home from the Empire/TWS, and runs to go save Claude. Literally. The next day. While Claude is a little tsun about it (!), Dimitri is just “come on let’s go hurry hurry no slowing down pick up the pace we are saving Claude”, and that’s basically him the entire chapter except with the Arundel specific stuff. When he talks to Claude one on one, there is literally not a single shred whatsoever in any plausible way or in any damn universe any tension from Dimitri to Claude. He just wants to know he’s okay and relaxes once he knows Claude isn’t hurt. I mean literally, no, like... that’s them, in canon, in their Natural Habitat together and I have no fucking clue how the portrayal of them in fanon got so insanely warped beyond recognition.

Also, Engage kinda dropped the ball with a lot of stuff with the other lords. Hell, they’ve been unable to keep Ike’s character consistent throughout all of his non-canon appearances (Awakening didn’t seem too bad, but Fates was pretty awful for example. They can’t seem to really understand the character they’re writing anymore, and idk if it’s just because the writers have changed and such/aren’t the same as Tellius’ games had, or they just don’t care to keep him consistent).

They also try to make Sigurd sound wise and super helpful in every single solitary iteration of him outside of FE4 which is honestly just obnoxious as fuck lmao. Sigurd was naive, foolish, overly trusting, and far too kind and gentle for his own good. It ultimately was what led to him following orders blindly, having blind faith that his king was righteous and would give him the right orders (without realizing the court was very much in disarray during his absence and with several other prominent court figures away because of the war). Sigurd was too quick to believe in the good in humanity and that things would work out, and it led to him not realizing how wrong he was until it was way too late and he had to take shelter in a foreign country to avoid having to fight the same people’s armies who had the court’s ear.

Basically Sigurd is nothing like they write him to be in every. single. solitary. iteration. outside of FE4. 

(SPOILER here just in case you care lol. Or anyone who is reading this. Or if you’re someone who somehow does not know about the biggest known spoiler in the whole game) He has one little section of potential dialogue (i.e. it’s triggered by a very specific condition) that shows somehow ghosty Sigurd has grown more wise and understanding ??? while being dead ??? and somehow learned while being dead that the world do be full of grief and Stuff. (END SPOILER)

So they pretty much took like, two lines of dialogue from FE4 and made it Sigurd’s entire fucking character forever in every single game he’s been in since. If nothing else, let that be your insight on never to trust content you see outside of a character’s original game. At that point it’s simply fanservice because they don’t even know their own characters. If they wanted to write even a semblance of Actual In Game Sigurd’s Personality And Not Two Lines Of Dialogue That Are Completely Optional And Quite Honestly HIDDEN, it would be very easy and reasonable to do so. They choose not to, and then we get what they did with Houses’ lords.

Another portrayal I see too often is that Dimitri and Claude... argue??? I won’t lie, their Heroes summer alts was the very first time they even seemed to “argue”, and it was mostly just goofy nonsense that means nothing because they’re literally alts in swimsuits, and it wasn’t really them being vicious at each other. Meanwhile in canon, they’re always very calm and able to talk through their problems - even in fucking Hopes in the GW route. Even in the worst possible circumstances for them to be in, that is, as enemies, they were still able to talk it through. Barring Claude’s written in idiocy so he could be a mouthpiece for Edelgard and do her bidding by invading the Kingdom (which was literally nothing but plot convenience because Actual Claude would’ve reasoned his way out of doing that), even in the worst possible situation, they still called a truce and still worked things out verbally, calmly and peacefully.

Point being, this whole cat fight dmcl portrayal isn’t even remotely close to their canon selves, and normally I’d say, you know, like what you want and enjoy your ships how you want... but it’s pretty much almost entirely the people who view the ship that way that uh, attack people who don’t agree with them or insult them/laugh at them for seeing the ship differently. These are the people who make you feel bad, for enjoying a fictional ship of two pixelated characters kissing, because you don’t like the concepts in their head more than the way you’ve interpreted the canonical characters.

To be totally frank, I have a visceral hatred for the fanon portrayal of dmcl because it makes Dimitri out to be terrible and makes Claude some kind of punching bag for Dimitri in various forms. There comes a point where it’s like, you ship something and then there’s the point where you ship two characters you made up in your head, who aren’t the same characters you first started to ship, because you’ve warped them so extensively that they became nothing but a person’s OCs with their faces and some similar backstory elements at best.

[ridleymocki]

(seeing so many bad faith interpretations of the argument, y'all are really going to make me do this, okay HERE WE GO)

.................................

What Ed says: "I think last night was a mistake. I'm not ready for... Whatever this is."

What Ed means: "I didn't want last night to happen so soon or under those circumstances. Things are changing rapidly, which makes me feel out of control and scared."

What Stede hears: "I regret sleeping with you. I don't want the sort of relationship that you're after."

.................................

What Stede says: "It was a fine fish. It was... whatever. I was just trying to make you feel good!"

What Stede means: "I only cared about the fish because you cared about it, and I care about you. I liked the fish because it made you happy. Ordinarily, I'm ambivalent about fish."

What Ed hears: "I lied to you. I didn't care about your achievement I was just placating you to get what I wanted."

.................................

What Ed says: "Here's the news: I'm leaving. I got a job on a little fishing boat and I'm leaving. I'm a fisherman now."

What Ed means: "I think I need to be away from you to figure out who I am, because I haven't been able to do that while we're together, and your lifestyle now is the life I'm trying to leave behind."

What Stede hears: "I've made a decision to leave you and have a life without you. I don't value what we have enough to work with you to find a solution, I'd prefer to end it."

.................................

What Stede says: "Oh, Ed. Seriously? You're not a fisherman."

What Stede means: "I think you're using this plan to escape and avoid your problems. It sounds like you're pretending to be someone else. It seems to me like an impulsive decision and I am concerned."

What Ed hears: "I don't support this ambition. I think you're incapable. I don't think you can be different from what you have always been."

.................................

This is the kind of analysis done in therapeutic environments. When I put what they mean, it's not just a rephrasing but a boiling down to the core issue. I could go on to the rest of the dialogue but do you see the continuing ship-in-the-night miscommunication?? It's tripartite:

failing to express one's current emotional reality with the most accurate and clear language, often because that reality is not fully understood to oneself,

misinterpreting the other's language, due to preexisting sensitivities and defensiveness about one's own understanding of the situation,

increasing frustration and sense of personal attack that results from those misinterpretations, which perpetuates and worsens the poor communication.

Importantly, this kind of pattern means you miss the best and most important kernels of communication in an exchange because you're reacting to the more inflammatory parts.

Stede: "This can be whatever we want it to be." (I am willing to make changes to our arrangement so that you're happy). Ed: "I don't even know who I am! Alright? I know I don't want to be a pirate. And you, you're blowing up, you're the toast of the town." (I think we want different things. You're just starting a journey that I've already finished).

With those two bits alone they could've sorted this out. The first is the answer to the second. But they didn't -- couldn't -- latch onto it because all their other baggage was getting in the way.

And I'm being proven correct that this is what is happening, because I have seen next to nothing on here about the above two lines, only reactionary takes of fans also focusing on the inflammatory parts because of their predispositions. You're doing an encore performance of what they're doing.

Point being, there are no bad guys in this scene, just repeated system failure!

[bixels]

Taking the current topic as an excuse to ask you to tell me all the reasons you love Rarijack. Your art for the ship is so sweet and intimate I'd love to hear any in depth thoughts you have.

Breathes in.

I think what makes their dynamic really strong is that they have opposing personalities but aligned values. It's deeper than just "opposites attract." Rarity's fancy, prissy, and femme while Applejack's modest, rough, and "masculine." But both value hard work (to the point of being workaholics), their families (both have guardianship over their little sisters), running successful businesses, and eventually each other. Their relationship can be boiled down to, "Despite our differences/disagreements, I still like you because we value the same things."

We see their relationship develop so much. In the first season, they can't stop bickering about surface-level differences. By season four, they still bicker, but will mend their relationship because they can't help but do nice things for each other. In Trade Ya, they start off arguing over personality differences (Applejack likes old junk and Rarity likes useless crap). Then they pivot and start arguing that they value their relationship more than the other. In the end, they mend things by sacrificing their needs and buying each other a gift. Even if they don't understand it, they know it'd make the other happy. And that's all that really matters. It's a genuinely sweet moment that shows how arguing can be healthy and necessary for relationships to strengthen.

We even see them dropping their hang-ups about each others' personalities. In Made in Manehattan, when Rarity runs off in dramatics about someone's fashion, AJ doesn't roll her eyes or scoff, she smiles. Oftentimes, their conflicts are very common domestic conflicts romantic couples face. Applejack's Day Off is about a woman's inability to balance work and life and find time to properly spend with her partner, causing her partner to feel neglected.

By season seven, they're actively participating in each others' interests. Any problems or conflicts that arise are dealt with, and they come out the other end stronger and closer. In Honest Apple, AJ pretty much spells out why their relationship works so well: even though she doesn't understand fashion, she can recognize and appreciate how much work it takes and wants to respect that. When she realizes her mistake in the episode, AJ goes above and beyond to fix things and apologize to Rarity. They care about each other so much.

The two go out of their way, sacrificing their personal desires and beliefs and doing things they normally wouldn't, to make the other happy. That's just love.

There's Simple Ways, where AJ gets stuck in an unwanted love triangle between Rarity and her hipster crush. And her frustration and anger can be so easily interpreted as AJ finding herself in a terrible position; the girl she loves wants another man, and that man wants her.

I dunno. I've always had a preference for opposites attract ships, but Rarijack's stuck with me like a brain worm because they have the perfect chemistry. The way they show they care, or do things for each other, I've always read it as the truest representation of romance in the show.

[malues]

i saw a pb x cb post so i got curious, is it ok to ship them? i tried to find out by myself with searching but all the thing of pb being an adult but young adult/late teenager mentally and cb being a 10 year old but a mid teenager/late teenager mentally gets me a bit confused

im gonna use this post to talk about the characters ages again! (no shade to this person in particular, ive just been getting a lot of questions abt it recently.)

when discussing ages, a lot of fans refer to this post i made a while back:

i'd have no problems with this but a lot of people who use this image seem to disregard/forget the bottom paragraph? its mainly my fault for not being good enough while explaining, which i apologize for. but i want to use this to better explain what i meant here:

charger block and crown are NOT actual 10 year old children; when i say that they are 10 and 9, i'm saying that they have EXISTED for 10 and 9 years. even when they were 0 years old, their mannerisms and such were the same as they are today, and may even remain the same when they reach the age 500+.

for example, a character that was created yesterday is only a day old but they may still have the resemblance and maturity of an adult. this is how it worked for michael and sean: since their creations, they have always resembled adults. the characters in LOTS do not age the same as actual people do.

with this in mind, ever since their creations, cb and crown have always resembled teenagers! so while not real children, they're still a bit on the younger side.

so, use this for a better reference:

charger blocks maturity resembles that of a 16-17 year old.

crowns maturity resembles that of a 18-20 year old.

michael, sean, and pipe bomb are fully adults!

this does not mean that a characters mental age WILL stay the same forever, however! it's possible that we will see maturity in cb and crown as the show goes on; don't forget, theyre stuck with a job for 500 years!!! but for now, this is who they are.

so what about the actual question above? well, i anticipated seeing a ship of pb and cb rise after 1C. it's not one i exactly look forward to seeing like many others, so i'd prefer people take a different direction when it comes to that relationship.

and please please, if you see someone who enjoys the ship but is possibly unaware of the ages, DONT get upset!!! it's not their fault that they haven't seen a random post clarifying the ages that only 5% of LOTS fans see!!! if you want to, politely inform them. if they don't care, leave them alone and move on!! they wont change their mind as you won't change yours!!

so theres that! i hope this doesn't leave more questions than answers like last time, but dont be afraid to ask for further clarification!

[fanaticsnail]

Thinking about a reader who's too polite for their own good. They aren't a total pushover, of course, but still don't speak up a lot of the times even when they probably should.

It's been a problem their whole life, but it really comes to a head when they join the strawhats. There's the usual problems; Luffy being obnoxiously loud, Chopper and Usop and their hyjinks. But none of these things compare tho their problems with Sanji.

The chef has one rule: no wasting food. It's how he was raised, and his experiences have lead to him understanding the importance of a meal. The 'no food waste' rule is known ship wide.

So when something is made that the reader doesn't like, they have no choice but to choke it back with a smile.

Sanji thinks he's done something wrong; underseasoned the food, maybe? This leads to a vicious cycle of him trying to perfect the food (because damn if he isn't going to get this right for his pretty crewmate) and the reader choking it back reluctantly (because damn if they're going to break Sanji's one rule and potentially ruin their chances).

All of this comes to one glorious, horrendous conclusion where one of Sanji's attempts uses an ingredient that the reader is allergic to and well....let's just say the aftermath was something to behold.

-♡♡

POOR BABYYYYYYYY. I love it. Let's torture him a bit.

Food Preferences

Masterlist Here

Little drabble.

Synopsis: Sanji caters to suit your personal food preferences, and it hurts him to learn of how truly picky you were with your food. He lives to serve, but his background as a great cook leaves him with a bruised ego to dull down his extravagant meals.

Themes: Sanji x gn!reader, underlying feelings, Sanji is a service king, reader is a picky eater.

Warning: potential eating disorder mentioned. Sanji serves large portions and it hurts to finish your plate.

Notes: Oh my gosh, Sanji would feel so guilty about it too. He'd cry before giving Luffy your portion, but would absolutely cater to suit your needs.

His portion control is due to the fact that he's feeding Luffy constantly, and expecting everyone to get a taste of everything he makes before Luffy takes it all for himself. It's the same with Zoro's drinking habit. He wants everyone to have a sample of something nice, and is used to having the collective gratitude and praise from everyone as soon as they eat their food.

Sometimes all you want is simplicity. No extravagant flavours. No richness in your desserts, no complex flavours in your meals. A military ration wafer block or two with a hot cup of boiled water is sometimes enough, you're not for all the complexity. Tea and a biscuit. Black coffee and a shortbread cookie. Simple flavours.

When Sanji nearly killed you with your allergy in a bid to win you over, you finally softly explain to him your preferences, and he listens. He may not understand it, but he listens. Simple, clean, basic, boring.

Immediately purchasing new crockery and knives specifically catering to your allergy preferences, he ordered in ingredients specifically for you that would never even glance at the same cabinet the allergins would be homed in. He's not about to send someone into anaphylaxis because he wanted to please someone, especially someone he served with on his crew.

He can't help but almost mourn when he makes your food now. He lives to serve, and that service includes providing foods that suit your preferences. Preferences that hurt his ego as a chef, but suited his purpose as someone who lives to serve.

Each time he brings you a dish now, he attempts to hide his sorrow at such a dish. He can't stand it, it kills him inside. It's worse than Chef Zeff wanting to drown everything in oregano. It's bland, it's boring, it's little...

...and it makes you smile.

And boy, oh boy, is he a sucker for that smile.

The way his heart flutters, his smile brightens, his eyes twinkle all in the hopes that you'd bless him with that soft smile he'd come to cherish. He didn't know when, but his heart sang to you. Maybe he could coax you in to expanding your preferences through something small, something new mixed in with the familiar. If he was willing to cut back for you, perhaps you could find it in your heart to expand for him.

If not, he'd love you for who you are anyway.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: years ago, you broke up with him for his reckless lifestyle. now, when he's come back without changing a bit, you don't know why you let him back into your life.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.65k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst, death is mentioned and tyler gets close to it not explicitly, kissing, swearing, baby as a nickname for your lover, lot of made up family members + names

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: cowboy slang vocabulary, yes it's 11pm, yes I wrote this in a day, yes I'm in bed, yes Glen Powells is hot

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler Owens likes to live what others might call a dangerous life, although he much preferred to call it a life of thrill.

He started it off as a bull rider for a rodeo, and though by the end of it he was regarded as the star bull rider and sometimes even the star of the show, there was a big learning curve that ended him with a couple (something closer to four dozen, really) kicks on the ol' noggin. Luckily, none of it sprouted within him either physical or mental problems by the time he decided he wanted to move on; his mother always said he had a thick skull, anyway.

After the less dangerous, still excruciating years in university, he came out with a meteorologist degree. And what did he do with it? He became a storm chaser.

A peculiar fact that came with it was that even after landing a more dangerous job, he sustained less injuries than bull riding by a substantial amount. Suppose the thing is that the moment he gets his first serious one, he's likely done for.

You've been through it all.

You met him before he even started this life, in high school; your first kiss was at his bedside after a particularly harsh fall and kick, you persisted through the busier university schedule, and you supported his dreams to be a storm chaser.

But at the height of it all, after the first scare when the anchor mechanism on that old truck of his failed to stop the car from turning onto its side, you decided you two were over.

It was definitely selfish. You didn't want to be close to him when, and you said when, he died. You decided it would be a lot less grief on your end, and you know what? He understood you.

For years, you've been grateful for him. As much as you've been his anchor, he's been yours...but he'd have made you a widower, even if you were married or not, and you just couldn't take that possibility.

If you're caught in the disastrous thunderstorm he'll leave behind, you're not sure you'll ever make it out.

You hope you'll never find out.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Get your ten commandments out of my soup!"

So why did you let him walk back into your life?

"I'm sorry! Hey, don't hit me with that ladle!"

You're not sure.

You point the utensil at him as threateningly as possible, although it's practically the same thing as pointing a spoon at him. "I don't need you for a taste-tester, Owens, you best take note of that."

"Yeah, yeah," Tyler's body is shaking with laughs, even as he lifts his hands up in surrender. "yes, sir."

You roll your eyes, bedrugingly turning your back to him to keep chopping vegetables. Tonight, you'll be sharing this soup with the whole family, and you're currently trying your damnedest to make it good. That means avoiding whatever seasoning boiled Tornado Wrangler digits will bring.

Tyler leans back to admire you, no he's not looking at your ass, work away. It feels oddly domestic, even if he's sitting down like a useless husband watching TV on his recliner.

That feeling of domesticity is piled on further when he hears the sound of innocent laughing outside.

"You sure that kid's not mine?" Tyler suggests for the second time, gesturing out the back door with his head.

"Haha." You laugh sarcastically, not even giving him the satisfaction of turning his way. "No, my sister just so happened to marry a blonde. Even if she was somehow ours, I would've never kept you from her."

Of course you wouldn't have. You're too good for that.

The kid outside is your niece, a twelve year old girl shipped out of bustling New York City to the backdoor of America for being "too addicted to her phone", as your sister says. Despite her self-proclaimed hatred for the outdoors, she's actually having a lot of fun with the ranch dogs, who indulge her when they're not working.

Even though he's in no way related to the kid, and even if you and him could never biologically create anything together, he swears she looks just like if the two of you had a love child, which makes his heart swell all the more when she sees her.

"If we could've had one," Tyler begins, standing up to begin a slow, silent walk towards you. "would you have rather they be a boy or a girl?"

"Don't ask me that." You say with a laugh, meaning you're refusing to answer only because you don't want to have prejudice.

"Okay, fine, then." He settles behind you, pressing his chest to your back. "Huh."

"Huh, what, cowpoke?"

His hands are settled on the edge of the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. "I thought you'd flinch."

"I learned to expected the unexpected around you, Tyler Owens. Never a day went by that you didn't surprise me, so I decided I'd simply never be surprised."

Tyler sputters out a laugh. "Oh, hobble your lip!"

"It's true." You reply, offhandedly, fully concentrated on chopping some carrots, and Tyler hates that because you're not giving him attention.

So he opts to do something you'll obviously never expect and prove you wrong. He leans down to press his nose against your neck, and you think he's only going to kiss it, but instead...

Thbptttttt!

"Ew, Tyler, you did not!" It's a miracle you have the self-restraint to put the knife down, let alone only push him away and not slap him on the face. You clutch the spot where he just blew a raspberry and instantly regret it, recoiling away from the feel of his saliva like it's acid.

Tyler laughs. Despite your best efforts to push him away again as he approaches, he only dodges your hands and traps you against the counter again. His plan is accomplished, as he now has you facing him.

"You asshole." You snarl.

Tyler only smiles. "Yours, all the same."

He leans down to kiss right where he'd blown that raspberry, collecting most of his own spit on his lips and saving you the trouble of cleaning it himself.

Even when you wipe off the rest of the spit you'd previously touched on his sleeve, he laughs.

"What am I going to do with you?" You sigh, cupping his cheek and tilting his gaze towards yours.

He's a damn bastard, having the audacity to grin at you as if he's won some kind of victory. "Kiss me."

So he's a puppy, then. Licking you like it's a way of kissing and expecting a proper kiss back. "No, you don't deserve that."

He rolls his eyes, though his eyes find yours immediately after. "Yes I do. Kiss me."

You don't know why you let Tyler Owens walk back into your life like nothing happened. You don't know how you let him kiss your neck, or how you let him even ask to kiss you, or how you're even being friendly with him.

Scratch that, actually. You don't know why he kissed your neck, why he wants to kiss you, or why he's being friendly with you.

You walked out of his life, for God's sake. You walked out of his life because you feared dealing with the aftermath of his death.

He's a tornado. Tyler Owens, the tornado wrangling cowboy, is a tornado. He's a fire twister, even, the worst of the worst, a category F5. The damage he'll leave once he dies out won't be devastating, it'll be incredible.

That's what you're trying to avoid.

"What's wrong?" Tyler's smile has faded, his expression sobered up. Of course he can still tell when you're lost in your own thoughts.

"Nothing." You shake your head, wipe your nose to hide your sniffle and thus let go of his face. "Hey, how about you go check up on Sophie? My sister would kill me if she got hurt."

"Right, sure." He can sense something's wrong, but he withdraws anyway, respecting your decisions. He always does that, and you hate him for it, because he's so good.

You watch him head out the back door, and even as he closes it, you watch on.

He's too good for you.

When the distant sound of the boiling soup catches your ear, you inevitably tear your eyes away.

Right, let's make the best soup there ever was.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler had unknowingly picked the right time to show up at your front door when he did.

"Aww, come on, you didn't have to make such a big fuss," Your great uncle speaks with those sloppy dentures of his, but even with the wet sound of his gums and lips, he sounds entirely endearing. "Tyler's back! This party should've been his."

Tyler's always been the life of the party ever since you brought him home for that first Thanksgiving (his "trial", so to speak), and that apparently hasn't changed.

"Oh, no, no, you're kiddin' grandpa!" Tyler only raises his glass from where he's leaning against the punch table. "It's your birthday! Hell, I didn't even bring a gift!"

"Your fine ass is all you needed to bring." Your famously single aunt grins and sends a wink, holding a glass full of wine she snuck in despite all the children around.

Tyler directs his own glass towards her to thank her, his smile never waning. "Oh shush, aunt Delilah."

As Tyler greets the family one by one, all of which clearly miss him, you're in the corner of the room pointing out each of them to your niece.

"Those are your cousins...I think. They're your mom's cousin's kids, and well...whatever, they're Jonas' kids. Becky, Jake, Bean–"

"Bean?"

"Sorry, his name's Nick, we just call him Bean 'cause one time as a toddler we found him sitting on a sack of raw beans, shovelling them into his mouth."

"That's crazy."

Even after you've named every face in the room and sent Sophie away with a pat on the head to mingle with her...cousins, Tyler's still talking to everyone.

Your heart burns like you've had some of uncle Dick's famous dripping fried chicken at the sight of it because nobody's ever like this when it's just you.

It's not even about the fact you're forgotten, it's a big family and you have your own close group of cousins in the middle of all of them, it's the fact that they missed him.

While you're distracted, your mom pulls you down to sit beside her on the couch, where your dad is telling another story of his. Many of your aunts and uncles and distant cousins are gathered around him, listening intently, but as you actually hear the contents of his speech, your attention fades away. It's one of those stories he always tells, about how the crop cycle was ruined until he had this eureka idea.

Distantly, you hear Tyler droning on about his whole tornado wrangling cowboy thing, explaining his latest feat like it's nothing but a regular Tuesday. He's got a lot more people gathered around him than your dad; not to discredit your dad, as he's doing his best trying to compete against Tyler in storytelling, but you know how that will end.

You kiss your mother on the cheek and stand up to find your more amicable cousins, only to be interrupted by your aunt Sissy, Delilah's sister.

"Hey, darling! How've you been?" She calls you over and immediately slings an arm around your neck, holding you close and rubbing your cheeks together in greeting.

"Good, good." You say immediately, an instinctual white lie as you wipe her transferred makeup off your cheek.

She doesn't even notice you're lying to her, maybe doesn't care enough to notice, before she's nodding her head towards Tyler and his crowd. "I'm so happy you're back together with Tyler, he must have so many new stories to tell."

"Um, actually, auntie," You try to correct her, then bite your lip, pausing suddenly to think. It'd probably be a lot better if you let her believe you were back together, but you've already dug yourself into saying actually. "we're–"

"Hey, auntie Sissy!" Tyler suddenly appears beside you like he wasn't just across the room, leaning down to gracefully accept the cheek kisses in greeting. He somehow comes out of it without getting stained. "How have things been? The old cat still slinking around the neighbors' yards?"

The two of them exchange a few words before he's slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Can I borrow this one real quick? It'll just be a sec."

"Sure, sure!" Whether an insult to your presence or a compliment to his coercion tactics, she's more than happy to let the two of you go. "Don't let me hold up your fun."

You're grateful for him steering you away from the party and out onto the front porch, but you're also dreading being alone with him after the whole thing in the kitchen.

Tyler doesn't seem too far off.

"Whew, I did not miss being around your family." He breaths out, leaning against the porch's railing.

The whole dread fades into confusion as he says that, and you lean against the spot beside him. "You didn't?"

"No...well," He shakes his head, "I missed hanging out with them. I did not miss having to tell them every single detail about where I've been since I've last seen them."

"I thought you liked telling them stories." You hummed, turning your gaze from the scenery ahead to him.

"Eh...I much prefer intimate crowds." He sends a wink. You flush and try to turn away, but he catches your cheek and stops you.

Tyler knows something is wrong, has known since you discreetly pushed him away earlier today in the kitchen. Looking into your eyes only further convinces him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

His eyes narrow. His stupidly beautiful blue-green eyes narrow at you, and you know you can't lie anymore...but you can deflect.

"Did you know your eyes are blue and green?" You ask, lightly tapping his hand that sits on the railing.

"(Y/N)."

"Blue rim. Green...center? No, that's not the word, the inner? God, I don't know." You shake your head, and despite the movement, his hand doesn't leave your cheek.

"(Y/N)."

"They remind me of the classic scenery." You hold a pointer finger out. "Blue sky, green lawn, right? Or the Windows default wallpaper. Both are iconic."

His other hand leaves the railing and takes your other cheek. "Baby, look at me."

Baby. You used to hate it when he called you that, you weren't some baby, but now...now, how you've missed it.

You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily to collect yourself. No more deflecting and no more lies. You actually had to talk about your feelings now.

It had taken a lot of courage the first time, telling him: yes, I still love you, I'm just selfish and think that if you die, you'll take me down with you; no, I know you won't actually kill me, but you'll take my soul with you, and that's practically the same thing, isn't it?

"You don't have to tell me anything." Tyler speaks up before you do, beckoning your eyes open. "You just have to tell me to go away again, if that's what you want."

"No," You instinctively say.

"No," You say immediately.

No. No, how could you? You did once, and you're not sure how.

"Stay." You say, because you want it, you want him to stay.

"Okay." He says it easily, and his hands fall to his sides. He's willing to take that, just that, because...you don't know, maybe he still loves you. You're not willing to admit that.

You're not willing to accept that he still loves you after you told him you wanted to break up.

You take his hand before he can walk back into the party. "Why'd you come back?"

"I..." Tyler almost shrinks back, but you intertwine your fingers, and now you're the angler reeling him back in. "My car got flipped onto it's roof."

"Baby." You breathe out, pulling him in, pulling him closer to you, almost like he's not living flesh in front of you and you need to make sure he's breathing by feeling his chest heave against you.

"I was in the hospital for a little while...just some cuts." He assures first, to not worry you. He grabs both your hands, presses his nose to the knuckles, inhales the scent of their sweat like it's that of an apple pie, and it's weird but he needs it. "The glass broke, obviously, all of it, and some of my equipment, and, well, fuck, it was worse than a couple cuts."

"Ty."

"I'm okay, you see? Not scarred. I'm tough." He lets go of your hands momentarily to do a little twirl for you. He looks just the same as you left him.

"You almost died." You say anyway.

"Yeah." He doesn't deny it, he can't lie, because he can see through your lies as well as you can see through his. "I wanted to see you again, because...I wanted to see you in case the next time I got into an accident, I actually died. And you know what? I feel selfish for it."

"What? No." You shake your head, step closer. You're about to say more, but he starts first.

"You told me to stay away, but I came back into your life and I acted like nothing happened. You know, the life you're living? It's kind of what I wanted for us. A little ranch, some cows, some dogs, a farm. We get our own milk, our own eggs, grow our own food, and it's just the two of us..." His fingers climb up your arm like a little spider, and his gaze follows it absentmindedly. "Until we decide to adopt a little girl. You drive her to school, I drive her back home. We're happy, raising her. We teach her not to be like us, and she still turns out an exact replica of us, anyway. She's our princess."

"Sophie?"

"Sophie."

He sniffles. You tear your hand away from his only to cup both of his cheeks with your hands. "I'm so sorry, Tyler."

"No, I–"

"No, shut up." Despite the severity, you laugh, and he does too, until you're speaking again. "I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed right there with you. I'd have been right at your bedside, you know? I'd have kissed you like the first time. Remember what I said?"

He laughs again, "That my breath tastes like cow shit?"

"Yeah, that." You grin at him, and he loves to see you grin like that again. "I was selfish."

"I understood you completely, though. I thought I was saving you the grief." That's why he let you leave so easily, and you realize it now, looking into his eyes. "You were right. You always are."

"I'm not, Tyler. I was wrong." You shake your head, "I thought it worked. Weeks went by when I didn't think about you, because I fought the memories of you back. A year after, it settled in that I wouldn't be seeing you, so I thought I wouldn't even think about you anymore, but...the memory of you, your smile, your kisses, your warmth resurfaces every month, and god, I missed you. And missing you without the possibility of having you is just grieving you."

"...and now I'm here." He leans a bit further away, and you see all of him. You see the way his blue-green eyes are glassed over, and you've no doubt yours are the same; you see the familiar way his hat is perched above his head and how he still wears the top two buttons of his shirt undone and how his smile is just the same.

"And now you're here." You nod.

He places his hands over your wrists, holds them, presses his nose against yours. "I missed you too."

"Mhm?" You hum. Your breaths mingle with his, pressed this close together.

"And I love you, too. Still do."

"Fuck." You laugh, a teary little thing, but it's real and genuine and not a figment of his imagination. "I love you too."

And then you kiss, and he's missed it so much, and you've missed it so much, the two of you. You're slotted together, like pieces of a puzzle. You're not you without him and he's not him without you.

When you part, you wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks, and he does the same for you.

"Should we..." He chokes a little on his words, then shakes the nerves off. He has you back, and his smile returns. "head back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we should." You find yourself leaning back in, anyway.

You share another kiss, maybe two. If he'd brought a friend or three along, he'd have signalled them to light the fireworks in his truck to add a little magic to it, even if it already feels like fireworks are going off between your lips.

You could spend eternity like this.

When you've had enough of each other for the moment and finally head back in, your great uncle raises his spoon at you and laughs. "There you are! This soup is amazing, kid!"

Or at least that's what he would've said, had his dentures not gotten stuck in a hard carrot and splashed right back into his bowl.

One of the carrots which you added last, thanks to Tyler's distraction earlier today.

The tornado wrangler of a boyfriend you've regained is laughing his ass off beside you, while you cringe. So much for the perfect soup.

"Come on, (Y/N)." Tyler wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, and you're so happy he can do it casually again.

"Let's get us a bowl."

[myfandomrealitea]

I'm going to be fully honest, I hate the use of problematic as a coined term for fictional ships. I feel like problematic has just become one of those terms tossed around at anything and everything and often used as a gotcha net.

"I don't care about your ships as long as they're not problematic."

Okay. Are we talking about incest or just a ship where they have clashing political opinions?

Am I not allowed to ship the sentient wolf creature with the twink or am I not allowed to ship the two middle aged store clerks who have different views on wanting children?

What if one half of my canon ship gets de-aged to eighteen? Is it suddenly problematic to ship them for as long as that character remains de-aged?

What kind of age brackets are we defining as problematic these days? What are the cut-off points for when its not problematic for two people to fall in love? What if one person has a birthday before the other one and for a few months they're not part of that acceptable bracket anymore?

Problematic is just being used as a one-word way to shut people down and force them to comply with your own expectations and boundaries. Problematic is thrown around as a way to box people into behaving and existing in ways that make you comfortable.

"I don't like the way that you exist so I'm going to brand you as this negative word that forces you to change to suit my preferences or be shunned by society."

Problematic means to constitute as or to present a problem. It is not the shiny new term for 'if you ship this thing you're a terrible person.'

[stitchau]

————————《《FAQ》》————————

This post will be updated over time.

Main artist account: @centfornothing (both tumblr and twitter)

— Usage of Stitch/Fanart

1. Q: Can I create fanart of Stitch?

A: Yes, I'd be more than happy if you do! ^^

Also, do not be shy to tag me! I will, from time to time, check if i was tagged somewhere.

2. Q: Can I use your character in my comic/animation/fanfiction?

A: Yep! I don't see why not.

3. Q: Can I ship *insert character name here* with Stitch?

A: Sure, have fun! But I sure do hope that the character in question is not a child. I am strongly against it.

4. Q: Can I create NSFW🔞 content of Stitch?

A: Yes, unless it involves children/incest. Do not draw stuff like that.

— NOT ALLOWED

I'm being repetitive here, but whatever. These are the only things I don't want people to do with my character, and I hope you understand why.

DO NOT create content depicting Stitch engaging with children in sexual manner.

DO NOT create content depicting Stitch endorsing incest/racism/f*cism/n*zism or anything similar to that.

As advice, I'd kindly ask you not to create stuff like this at all. Please be a better person and be responsible with what you create and put out there on the internet.

— About asks

Questions that I have already answered won't get a reply.

Not all the questions will get their answers. Either because it's not the time for the answer yet or because it's irrelevant/not a question at all.

If there's too many questions, yours might be missed/might get a late reply(currently i have 70+ questions, no joke, and i just cant answer all of them, especially when there's more of them every day). But don't be shy asking questions anyway!

Other reasons for your questions not getting an answer:

I might be busy because I also have to live a life.

If your question is something like "I love your au sm," then thank you. I really appreciate your kind words, you are making my day💞

I might not want to answer your question for reasons. (Provocative questions, personal questions, etc)

If you are asking something related to YOUR OWN mental health. Please, PLEASE, if you have real problems, do not try to find a solution for them from internet strangers, go and talk to a real, qualified professional.

Please do not vent to me, I am not qualified to offer you help. I wish you the best, please stay safe.

And just a separate point about roleplays. Sorry, but I don't really do them. I can play along to something unserious and small, but whole roleplays are not for me.

— About Stitch

Stitch uses any pronouns, but they/them is a preferred one.

They are aroace.

The place they live in is called "Treatment space"(the info on what it is will be elaborated on sometime later). It is accessible for anyone in Omega Timeline at any given point through a door. But it can also be accessed from anywhere if you have one of 2 special keys: small red key that will create a door for 1 person leading to the Treatment Space or the bigger dark red key that will create a much bigger door, also leading to the Treatment Space(backyard). Keys can be mostly found in Omega Timeline, but some are scattered throughout the Multiverse.

They mimic the voice according to the form they have at the moment. So Sans' voice for a form of Sans, etc.

For all the different parts of plush bodies and clothes, there is a separate big room in Treatment Space.

Stitch doesn't need to sleep, eat, or drink.

Their most preferred forms are Toriel(convenience) and Sans(frequency of use).

The forms they don't like to use the most are the ones that are small(like Temmie, annoying dog, Flowey, etc.)

— The Lore(WIP)

Prologue

Chapter 1: Lucky streak — part 1

More info will be added

[valyrfia]

the thing that gets me is as much as i'm enjoying this mclaren flop as a ferrari and red bull fan is that EVERYONE is telling mclaren they need to prioritise lando, they're getting openly criticised for not doing it so surely at the point it makes sense to just do it? who knows what their shot at the WDC will be like next year with lewis and charles both in an improving ferrari (forza) and toto wanting to build a championship car for his two sons. i know everyone is saying it's probably a clause in oscar's contract but it still seems nonsensical to me?

I was listening to the Red Flags podcast yesterday at work and they made an excellent point as to the atmosphere of the re-signing of both Oscar and Lando last year. Gentlemen...a short view back to the past....

Oscar re-signed in September last year in a deal that was probably negotiated in summer 2023. Now crucially, in summer 2023 and into the early autumn, Checo was flopping at Red Bull with a contract that then ended in 2024, and Red Bull were making no secret of the fact that they were openly courting both Charles and Lando (whose contracts were expiring at the end of 2024) to be Max's teammate at Red Bull. Since Charles and Lando were both in contract negotiations with Ferrari and McLaren respectively at the time, both leaned into the Red Bull courting to some degree–but Lando far more than Charles. Lando's manager was even publicly seen by multiple British media talking to Helmut and Christian at Silverstone. While for Charles the Red Bull courting was likely a means to an end to get his preferred contract with Ferrari, Lando seemed to be seriously considering a Red Bull move.

So, naturally, if you're Zak Brown and one of your star drivers is seriously hinting at jumping ship to the rocketship team, you want to lock down your other star driver as soon as possible. Oscar's contract is additionally much lower pay than Lando's because Oscar was only a rookie when he signed that extension. So in Zak Brown's eyes, a possible exit clause or similar that could be triggered under the event of asking Oscar to adopt the role of a n2 driver even in the event of a championship battle is just a footnote to what is essentially a very good deal for McLaren. They lock down a driver that they know will become quite valuable, for quite cheap, so at least they keep one of their star drivers even if the other one runs off to Red Bull.

But as we all know, that's not what happened. Lando instead chose to re-sign with McLaren–probably even with similar clauses in his contract as Oscar and management insisted on and Zak Brown thinks he's got away with it. That's until McLaren did produce a rocketship and suddenly, team orders have become a glaring issue.

Here's the problem. If McLaren implement team orders, Oscar's contract expires in 2026, which is when a LOT of seats free up in the grid–most notably in Mercedes and Red Bull. If Kimi Antonelli doesn't perform as expected in 2025, Toto Wolff will be on the lookout to try and steal another team's driver. Similarly, Christian Horner has said multiple times that one of his biggest regrets is not working with Oscar in junior formulae. McLaren don't want to give Oscar any reason to possibly jump to another team, which I'm sure Mark Webber of multi 21 PTSD would not hesitate to do if McLaren prioritise Lando over Oscar. But at the same time, if McLaren want to win both championships (the best shot they've had in years, and hopefully the best shot they WILL have for many years to come–Forza Ferrari) the harsh reality is that they need team orders, especially while the RB20 is still trying to figure out how to turn.

All in all, McLaren are in a tricky situation, but one that's entirely their own fault. Maybe it should be a lesson to all of us to always think through the consequences of what seems like tiny clauses in contracts.

[strawhatsoraya]

Hi! you work is amazing, can i request a nsfw headcanon for Zoro, Law, Kid and Ace (i don't know what number of characters are your limit) being very sexual frustrated bc their partern doesn't want to have sex with them? They think there's something wrong with them as boyfriends but they're more calm after they overhears that S/O is just too nervous to do it due to how big are

Anon, I don't know how long it's been. I'm not gonna pretend to keep track of time anymore. I live in the Twilight Zone where everything is dated 2 weeks ago. I have taken your request and written the headcanons as little ficlets/drabbles. Thank you for the request!

If you were to tell the truth, you shouldn’t have drunk as much as you did.

If you were to tell the truth, you should be canoodling up to your boyfriend, thigh flushed against thigh, whispering lewd promises into his ear. 

Instead, you were too busy avoiding the subject. Shame and embarrassment pulses through your veins, the same way the alcohol you gulped down your throat did. You’re thankful for the flush it brings to your cheeks. At least you can blame it on something other than yourself. 

You felt his gaze on you all throughout dinner: hungry, starved, almost pleading.

There’s a dip at your stomach, one you can’t quite decipher–or you try not to. The truth was, your boyfriend was damn near irresistible. Wanting, or lack thereof, had never been the issue. The issue was that you–by all means–were a coward of a pirate. You never dreamed of the day you’d run away from a challenge but every time you came so close to giving in, to throwing caution to the wind, and everything be damned–if you split in half, then you’d split in half, and die in ecstasy–you always ended up running away. 

You consider jumping ship–exposing yourself to the elements, or letting yourself fall into the depths of the ocean. Anything was preferable than openly admitting to your boyfriend your cowardice over what he might consider a trivial matter. Close to intoxication and close to tears, you turn to your best friend for advice.

Portgas D. Ace

He never thought he’d be lucky enough to be loved the way you love him. He never thought, not even in his wildest dreams, that he’d be allowed to love someone like you. You were always so warm, so kind, so easy to be around. Your laugh was the spark to light the fire in his heart day after day. He wanted nothing more than to return the favor, even if he felt he could never give you as much as you gave him.

He was never good with words. They always tumbled out of his mouth, in the wrong direction; too scratchy, too many sharp edges. He thought he was better with his hands. He wanted to show you how much he cared about you, how much he appreciated you–and how much he wanted you. Your body was soft, and pliable under his hot hands. Your kisses scattered goosebumps across his body every time. It seemed like you wanted him too, every time he’d grind against you while making out, every time his hands would grope your ass. 

Yet you always stopped him before it got that far.

Ace slams his mug down on the table, beer sloshing over the mug’s lip and spilling over his hands. He bites down on his teeth, until his jaw hurts. 

“This is ridiculous!” he hisses, eyes slightly unfocused as he glares across the table at Marco.

Marco in his infinitesimal amount of patience, casually throws back the remainder of his drink, tanned throat exposed. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, licking a corner of his lips where a drop of beer had collected.

Ace glares at Marco’s neck, wishing he could wrap his fingers around it and strangle him.

“How exactly am I ridiculous? What are you trying to say? Can you speak plainly for once?” Ace barks his questions–a metaphorical barrage of fists he tries to aim at Marco’s impudent face.

“I would,” Marco starts holding out his mug for it to be refilled. “If you’d let me get a word in. This is part of your problem.” Marco pauses, and raises a brow. Ace lights the tip of one index finger and contemplates tracing that questioning eyebrow to burn the hair right off. “You’re probably coming on way too strong.”

Ace groans. “Shut the fuck up,” he whines, as he leans over, elbows on the table. His face is hiding behind his unusually warm hands when your voice floats over to him; a siren at sea swimming in circles around his head.

“Honestly!” your voice is thin–embarrassed, and when he peeks through his fingers to look for you–he sees you quickly run a hand through your hair; a tell tale sign of your discomfort. “That’s not the case at all.”

There’s giggling at the table as the nurses crowd around you. He sees the redhead lean over, a mischievous grin on her face. “Aren’t you at least a little curious? You have been fooling around for months. It’s about time.”

You groan as you finish your drink–it was bright blue from where he sees it swirling in your glass. “Yes, but–” You cut yourself off to sigh before proceeding: “The problem isn’t that I don’t want to. I do,” you finish, cheeks aflame. “The problem is that...” You abandon your glass on the table to gesture with your hands, fingers splayed, a big space between your palms. “The problem is he’s–” your eyes grow wide. “So big!”

He is used to the heat of his own body–a sense of being under the sun even on the cloudiest day–but it still fears searing when your words finally sink in. A hook pulls at the pit of his stomach, threatening to bring him down, ship and all. He stands up abruptly. A drink spills, and he vaguely hears Marco saying something about decorum but he flips him off as he walks away.

All he can hear, and all he can see is you at that table, cheeks bright and your mouth that was too busy smiling at others instead of kissing him. Ace interrupts your little group talk, and you stand up stammering an excuse.

“I need to borrow y/n,” he says to the crowd, a big smile on his freckled face. “I saw a seagull and I need her to go look at it.”

It was the stupidest thing you had ever heard, but you still nod enthusiastically and allow him to lead you away. You’re in his familiar room aboard the ship, when you prepare to launch your interrogation. You don’t have time. He crashes his mouth against yours before you can speak. His hands are fiery as they travel up your back, underneath your shirt. As you gasp, he slips his soft tongue into your mouth, brushes it against yours. Suddenly, you’re pressed against the wall. He nips at your jaw, hot and wet kisses trailing behind him as he moves towards your neck. As he sucks on your pulse, so hard you are sure he’ll leave a mark behind, his hips start pressing into yours. You feel him hard under his pants, his cock teasing you; reminding you of what you had been so scared to face head on.

You moan when his hands slide away from your back and towards your chest. He kneads your breasts gently. 

“If that’s what you’re so worried about,” he mumbles to the crook of your neck, pressing his hardened cock against your heated core. “You should have told me sooner.” He bites down on the soft flesh of your shoulder. You cry out, dig your nails into his back. He moans softly, hips never stopping. You feel yourself grow wetter every time he brushes against your sensitive nub just right. 

“I’ll get you fired up enough,” he mumbles against your neck, licks up the column of it with the flat of his tongue. You feel the trail of saliva hot, then cold as the air hits it. There are goosebumps running across your body. 

“You’re gonna be so wet,” he says almost in a whine against your ear. “Fitting me in won’t be a problem at all.”  His breath is hot as his lips brush the shell of your ear, and his fingers even hotter as he slips one hand between your legs. He presses up against your dripping slit, pushing your panties into you. “Get ready, babe. Here I come.”

Eustass Kid

Kid was aware of  his limitations. He was not gentle, or soft. He could not grasp tiny little pieces of metal between his index finger and his thumb. He also knew what he was good at. Your aversion to his tactics of seduction made him feel almost incompetent. Almost. Because he knew there was no way his skills had grown rusty, or tattered. He was damn good at it. He was sure, after all, because he could feel your slick coating his fingers when he’d rifle through your folds. You’d lay squirming, and panting underneath him, face flushed, neck and chest wearing matching splotches of pink and reds. 

The way you’d moan his name as you’d cum around his fingers, was enough for him to know you liked it. You’d cling to his broad back, fingernails scratching down lines on his skin. You wanted him. He knew that much. Then why did you keep running away? You had come so close to letting him go all the way. He had been there, angry red tip literally at your dripping entrance, before you balked and called the whole thing off.

Kid was many things, but he knew when ‘stop’ meant stop. 

It didn’t mean he was happy about it.

He couldn’t take it out on you, and someone had to pay–so he made the crew his targets. They were easy pickings, and it helped ease his mood slightly; very very slightly. His large feet clank down the corridor, Killer by his side mumbling softly about his attitude. Kid considers telling him to ease himself off the ship, or to suck his dick if he’s so inclined to be on it and all over his business when he hears your voice around the corner.

“No no,” your voice is insistent. He stops just around the corner, and peeks around even when he feels Killer’s hand on his shoulder. Kid shrugs him off. “I mean, he’s already so big, like generally speaking!” you enthuse in a loud whisper, which Eustass finds isn’t a whisper at all. “But when we kiss…” you trail off, and shift your weight on the spot. The sight of you, wiggling shyly, eyes downcast is enough to pull a crooked smile out of him. “And, well I’ve seen it and I don’t think it’ll fit. That’s all I’m saying.”

He tries not to laugh. He tries really hard, but the barking laughter comes out anyway. It echoes in the corridor as he stomps towards you. Your eyes grow wide, and before you can stammer a greeting, he is picking you up.

“Let’s go,” he says as he throws you over his shoulder. You squeak, face growing hotter. He raises a hand and brings it down on your ass, the sound of a resounding slap filling your ears. He walks awkwardly, his stiffened cock between his legs demanding attention. In his bedroom, he tosses you on the bed. Your hands go out as he climbs over you. You try to press them against his barrel chest. “I gotta tell you,” he mumbles against your cheek. His tongue is hot as he licks up your face. “I’m not a liar.”

You shiver underneath him, and rub your legs together. His voice is gravely, and it scratches over your skin. You feel your panties growing wet. 

“So I can’t say I’ll be gentle,” he speaks into your hair, fingers grasping the fabric of your shirt. He pulls, and buttons tear and scatter–flying across the room. You gasp as your skin is exposed to the cool air, and to Eustass’ heated gaze. He looks as if he has been starved for days, and he would want nothing more than to devour you whole, bones and all. When he drags his eyes away from your heaving chest, he meets your gaze and it takes your breath away. Kid licks his lips.  “Feel free to slap me or choke me if you need me to stop,” he drawls out of the corner of his crooked smile. “Although,” his smile grows slightly sinister, a smirk that makes your body grow cold and hot all at once. “I might be into that too.”

Trafalgar D. Law

He would sooner die than admit it. He would sooner bite his tongue, and choke on his blood than to admit the selfish side of him; how needy and desperate he can be for your touch, to feel satisfaction as he drowns inside you, buried to the hilt, just like he fantasizes about every night. Law would sooner die than to push you into doing something you're not comfortable with, and so he deals with his stiff little problem all on his own. For weeks, he furiously pumps his fist over his cock, neck strained, chest rising and falling as he tries to smother his own moans. No matter how vivid his imagination can be, no matter what scenario he can picture, it is never enough. His hand is too familiar; not soft enough, not warm enough, never wet enough no matter how many globs of spit he drops on the bulbous tip of his cock.

If he got into the habit of being honest with himself, Law would admit that honestly: he just wants to hear you fall apart as he pounds into you. He wants to see your tears cling to your curly lashes, and wants to see your bottom lip quiver as you struggle to take the full length of his cock.

He tries to reign in these thoughts as he swirls a gulp of whiskey around his mouth. He is embarrassingly at half mast under the table, Bepo chattering away at his elbow. His golden gaze takes in the shape of your shoulders from a distance. Penguin and Shachi are having a conversation about wanted posters, one they keep trying to enthusiastically drag him into. Law purposefully ignores them. Your face is enigmatic as you talk to Ikkaku and he strains his ears to hear you over his chatty crewmates.

“He’s scary,” you say, one palm slapping the table noisily. Your fingers are splayed, and your eyes wide. Law frowns at the sight and at your words. He doesn’t get to ponder over it further before the conversation starts  up again.

Ikkaku scoffs at you, and shakes her head as she pours rum into your shot glass. “I can sympathize,” she begins, although she wears a frown. “But then, why are you two dating again? I know the captain can be a little intimidating.”

You shake your head furiously, hair moving with your actions.

“That’s not what I meaaann,” you whine, cheeks flushed bright. Law scoffs. You were a terrible drinker. He did not understand why you insisted on the habit. “He’s not scary like that. His…” You stop and press your lips together, trying to think of how to phrase it better. You use your hand and point upwards, imitating a gesture Law uses a lot, but suddenly you point the finger down to the table. Ikkaku’s eyes slowly follow your actions. “Little Law is the scary one!”

You tell her, you’ve felt it before, as you sat on his lap, tongues brushing hotly against one another. You had felt it, hot and thick against your core, when his mouth was busy sucking on your nipples, making you so wet you’d grind desperately against him–anything for a form of release. 

Ikkaku shrugs and throws back a shot of rum. 

“Can’t relate!” she declares without an ounce of sympathy. Your mouth twists in a grimace, and you bang a fist on the table, ready to fight for your case when a hand grasps your wrist.

You look up and follow the arm to see the face of its owner. Law is frowning down at you, ears bright red. You swallow thickly. He leans down until his mouth hovers around your ear. 

“Come with me right now if you don’t want me to make your clothes disappear in front of everyone,” he mumbles. You gasp as he brushes his nose against the shell of your ear. His thumb brushes the soft inside of your wrist. “There are much scarier things about me than the size of my dick.” 

You feel his free arm wrap around your waist and he pulls you up from the chair into a standing position. You spin around in his arms, and gasp when he pulls you against him. His cock is stiff against your soft belly. One of his hands keeps you pressed tight against him, sitting on the dip of your back. His other hand still holds your wrist, tightly against his own chest. His face swoops towards yours, so close you can smell the whiskey off his breath. 

“Like my lack of patience. Please,” he enthuses in a slow hiss. His breath is warm against your mouth, as he brushes his lips against yours. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Roronoa Zoro

He has always been a man of discipline. He trains hard, and lives for battle. When he decided to become the strongest swordsman he gave himself up for a deadman and dead men don’t need or want.

At least, that’s what he tells himself at night, when you slip away from his body before he can smother the heat between you that consumes him by sliding inside your pussy.

Years by Luffy’s side had taught him patience and understanding. Still, he couldn’t understand you completely. He couldn’t understand why he could kiss you the way he kissed you–feverishly, as if he could taste you past your teeth and tongue. He couldn’t understand why he could touch you the way he did, how he’d slide his callused hands over your smooth skin, how you’d let him play with your nipples until you were whimpering under his touch, how you’d let him rub your clit until you were so wet he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d taste on his tongue. He especially couldn’t understand how happy you were to ride his thigh, to rub yourself on his muscle until you soaked right through his pants, or how sometimes that wasn’t enough for you and you’d straddle him, and rub against his hardened cock until you cried out his name. All of that but the moment he’d pump his cock, and lick his lips at the sight of your dripping pussy, you’d immediately press your hands against his lower belly to stop him.

You confuse him, and it infuriates him. He wants to understand you, and he wants to keep things simple. He wraps his lips around the mouth of the bottle of sake–a trusted, simple, and loyal friend. He takes a large swig, and then another as he sees Luffy, Chopper and Usopp doing some kind of cha cha line out of the corner of his eyes. Brook is singing a tune Zoro would rather not hear, and he leads the line enthusiastically laughing.

Franky and Robin sit together at the end of the table, their faces close together. Zoro blinks as he frowns, before drinking again. He sees Nami drag you towards Robin, and squeezes you in between her and Franky. Franky starts to protest but something you say makes him pause. Zoro feels his heart accelerate. He tries–concentrates–to shut out Luffy’s loud calls for more meat from Sanji, by leaning back on his chair. He closes his eyes, and crosses his arms over his chest.

He hears you pause, and it’s like he could feel your eyes on his skin–feel them rake over his arms and shoulders. You start to speak again, and suddenly, your little problem makes so much sense to him. You were scared of his size? Zoro tries not to smirk, and he stays still for so long he eventually does fall asleep. When he comes to, he catches you slipping away from dinner. 

Zoro follows you quietly. He moves silently in your shadow, his gaze on you ravenous and seeking. You look so good from behind, he feels himself grow hard, stiffening in his underwear. He loves watching your hips sway, your juicy ass that stretches the fabric of your skirt. You reach the library, still not sensing him behind you. As you reach towards a bookshelf, a finger tracing the spine of an encyclopedic tome, Zoro slides up behind you. You gasp, startled at the sudden unexpected heat, but his fingers slide over the sides of your thighs and you immediately recognize the calluses.

You hum, and lean into his touch, as a warmth spreads throughout your body. “Zoro,” you breathe out with a trembling voice. “What are you doing here?”

He draws circles over your skin as he moves his hands forward towards the inside of your thighs. His breath tickles the nape of your neck. “What do you think?” he asks you. He takes in the scent of your soap, and drops a kiss with parted lips on the side of your neck. “Hunting you down since you’re a scared little rabbit.”

His mouth is hot and light against your skin as he drops feathery kisses over your exposed shoulders. “If you were so scared, you should have told me,” he mumbles against your shoulder, as he presses another kiss on the soft flesh there. His hands move slowly, up and down your inner thighs. His thumbs brush against your skin, each time higher towards the center of you. “Never pegged you for a coward,” he whispers against your ear. You tremble under his touch, the tip of his thumb brushing ever so slightly against your panties. You gasp, and spread your legs wider before you can stop yourself. “See?” he adds with a chuckle, one hand resting on the inside of your thigh to keep you from moving. His free hand moves to your clothed pussy. He rubs against it gently with his fingers. “I can be gentle. But only one time.” He nips at the top of your ear. You cry out in surprise as he adds pressure to his touch, rubbing over your panties on top of your clit. “Only this time.” You moan under his touch, and arch your back. You rest your head on his chest, and he nips at your exposed neck. You hear him groan against your ear when he sucks on your earlobe. “If you keep being like this, I’m not going to be able to go easy on you,” he tells you as you moan again. He feels your slick coating your panties, and it stays on his fingertips as he traces the outline of your slit. He captures your bottom lip in an upside down kiss for a slow and noisy suck. When he releases it with a soft smack, he licks your lips. “And whose fault would that be?”