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marciabrady · 1 year

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here are some sleeping beauty plot points/general details that i love and i would love to see more discussion around

the story team did such an incredible job with fleshing out aurora while still making her feel true to the mythos from which she was derived. in every novelization i've ever read that predates the disney film, she's only ever given one line of dialogue (something like: "what is that thing that spins so merrily?") before falling asleep. disney took that same princess and successfully expanded her into a living, breathing dynamic human who is filled with everything- ethos, pathos, everything, but is also authentic to her origins. they also did a genius job at creating a basis for why love is so revered in this tale. true love conquers all, we're told, and it's indeed what keeps aurora safe from maleficent for all these years, as it's the one thing the evil fairy can't understand. yet, the fact that the princess grew up surrounded by the love from the three fairies, which instills that care in her heart, along with the fact that she grows up in isolation, so connected to the universe around her and allowing her to be introspective enough to observe the animals about her and draw a connection to the human condition and that of the consistencies of nature is so...deep and profound and develops her and makes her an evergreen character that will always represent people, for as long as we're around, because aurora's struggle is one that speaks to everyone. she isn't just some "lovesick princess" but a character that's growing up and longs to be able to find her soul's mate and to express the love in her heart in a universe where she was socially excluded and deprived of others outside of her three guardians. as humans are tribal creatures, social inclusion is one of the main pillars of wellbeing. so to take aurora, who is already an innately romantic person, and to deprive her of that just gives all the more reason why the kiss of true love really would revive her. she isn't just some princess who grows to be fifteen or sixteen, pricks her finger, and then is awakened by a prince she never meets. she is someone who was raised in love, grows up and wants to become a woman and share that love and express it with someone else. when she finds it, it's suddenly stripped from her and she's induced into a magic slumber that's meant to symbolize her transformation from girl to woman. then, she's awakened by the same love she'd thought she lost and it's just...the structure of it is genius and incredible and they retain all of the qualities about her in the fairytale and storytelling devices but they develop it so much further and round her out so well but still maintain a reverence to her source material instead of condemning it or outright changing it and i just LOVE

i don't think enough people realized that, it wasn't until maleficent visited prince phillip in the dungeon and showed him the vision of aurora in slumber repose that he knew that aurora and briar rose were one in the same!!! like this is the moment it all clicked for him and it gave him the drive and determination to slay the dragon in her honor. he realized the woman he loved and the princess he had been betrothed to were both one and that's so important and it's just such a plot twist that, again, was so genius of the writers. it proves to us that he loves her enough to leave the kingdom for her and risk damning the princess he had been betrothed to to the curse she was under and he'd take her as she is, even if it were a peasant, but also that his love is so steadfast and true that he'd defeat a dragon for her. 10/10 and it sooo runs along the vein of the lyric "visions are seldom all they seem." this is a plot twist done RIGHT but with so much sophistication that it tends to fly under most everyone's radar because it isn't like loud

something i love about the original princess movies is how the female characters are forever in the forefront, and the fact that this film opens with the celebration of the birth of a female child is something that's so special! instead of having to think about how female children weren't celebrated in that time, or it was a disappointment she hadn't been a son, or something of the like, the fact that the spotlight is on their daughter and the opening of the film continues this matriarchy, where all in the land praise this female birth, before the fairies are introduced as their most "honored and exalted excellencies." we need to see more worlds like this instead of pixar films where there's like not a single main female character lol

THE FACT THAT PHILLIP WAS WILLING TO GIVE UP THE THRONE AND THE KINGDOM "for some nobody" and told his dad flat out to his face without hesitating makes me love him soooo much?? he loves aurora for who she is, not just because she was a princess to whom he had been betrothed to his entire life, and this proves how genuine his love is. it also paints how progressive and open-minded phillip was, seeming to be the first that would ever break the tradition of princes marrying princesses and opening up his country for a new type of culture and reign. love me a freak like that

one of the biggest facets to aurora's character, and something that further develops her relationship to phillip, is how differently she reacts to her guardians when told of the betrothal. where phillip already knows, and is aware of the king and queen and how his duty is to marry their princess daughter, aurora is just finding out that she has living parents for the first time and the future of a nation rests on her shoulders. she discovers she's to be married to a prince and must give up her true love forever. again, before i hear anything about "she just met this man for two minutes in the woods, why is she crying," this is a fairytale with magic that's meant to be archetypical. in the narrative of the film, and in the universe of this world, phillip is her true love- and this is confirmed when it is his kiss that awakens her from the curse. so to leave the one true love who was meant for you, when that's all you ever wanted in the isolation you were raised in, to accept your duty and responsibility over parents you didn't even know you had and to assume the obligations of a nation you aren't even prepared for...it's astounding. aurora does everything right, she even leaves love behind for the good of her people and puts everyone above her own personal desires, and yet people still criticize her and say she's dependent on a man and all she cares about is love. meanwhile, phillip never receives any hate, and he's literally willing to give up the throne and the kingdom and start a war between two countries for the girl "he just met in the woods for two minutes" but he's one of the most beloved princes...it really just makes me think about how misogynistic our society still is, without even realizing it. aurora literally couldn't have done anything better, by our modern standards, but people still condemn her just because? this is definitely a discussion piece i want to hear more about and, in general, i think it would behoof us all to understand why aurora has been so demeaned culturally as a character when her actions, in and of themselves, are exactly what we say we want and would appeal to modern sensibilities

this is a slight sidenote but i always was tickled by merryweather proclaiming, if she had it her way, maleficent would be turned into a "fat old hop-toad." i always felt like this was a nod to the original tale from which this movie was based on, where a magical frog tells the queen that her wish to be with child shall soon be granted and that it, just generally, was a very clever easter egg/allusion

in this film, they have enough action and movement to appease the more restless demographic/traditionally "masculine" crowd, but i love how the basis of maleficent's defeat lies still in the femininity of the three good fairies. it's these elderly women that save phillip from the dungeon and arm him, not just with weapons that will kill another being and are predicated upon violence, but with symbolic weapons that are laced with truth and virtue. i think it really reminds us all how transformative these values are and how, in arming ourselves with them, we'll alone be able to navigate the road to true love (whether that be familial, platonic, or romantic love) which will be "barred by many more dangers" and how it enables us to have a sense of autonomy where we'll be able to overcome anything that's thrown our way while still retaining the core of who we are

i wrote about this moment previously, but to piggyback off of what i wrote about phillip just above...i love how aurora is the most competent human in this world? much has been said about how the plot of sleeping beauty is essentially the fairy worlds dueling with one another and, in that, many of the mortals are somewhat...inept, to put it for lack of a better term. king stefan is unable to protect his daughter with the burning of the spinning wheels, even with all the power he harnesses within his kingdom, and the fairies are quick to see his folly. prince phillip would still be rotting in the prison had the fairies not interjected, and he would be burned to a crisp had they not sprung a final chant of magic upon his, already, enchanted sword. yet, maleficent has to hypnotize aurora for the princess to even succumb to her plan and, even then, aurora is temporarily able to snap out of the magic hypnosis she's put under. i don't think people realize how powerful that is? yes, i understand it's a minor moment, but the hesitation and the ability to counter magic while remaining totally unarmed is something that reminds me why aurora is our main character, despite what anyone else might say.

going along with what i said above, while many are quick to point out aurora's lack of screentime, the film begins with her birth, the plot is sprung forth with every character wondering what they could do to protect her, then when she pricks her finger upon the spinning wheel, she and the entire kingdom are put to sleep. it isn't until she wakes up, that the entire kingdom does, too. she holds the key to this entire universe in a persephone like way and i just love how important it is in the narrative of the film to wake her up. she isn't just this beautiful creature who's valuable because she's pretty, because if that was the case, her being a lovely figure posed to perfection in her slumbering mode would be enough...but the people of her universe value her so much more when she's alive and active and being her own person, that it ensues a fairy war, practically. she's also involved in every single plot, even if she isn't physically present. this is her movie and no one can take that away from her. but, just to restate, the fact that there's so much emphasis in aurora being alive and well is something that's so important

so, it's kind of a given at this point that every princess can sing, but i think the role that music plays in sleeping beauty is the most meaningful and well done? sleeping beauty makes much to do about its classical score and it skillfully combines realistic characters and storylines (like the fairies not knowing how to cook and clean, phillip being captured with no way out, the kings toasting to the impending nuptials of their offspring before getting into a quarrel centered around a misunderstanding) with the fantastical world of fantasy and opera. by giving aurora the gift of song, the narrative is creating a framework that explains her relationship to her singing voice in a way that's even more profound than that of ariel's connection with her singing. it explains why aurora sings more than she speaks and ties in perfectly with the thematic style of the operatic presence in sleeping beauty, which is that in the opera, instead of speaking about it, you sing.

OK but this scene of hubert's/his general plotline and character motivation that results from this is genuinely perhaps the best comedy disney's ever done? hubert is coming off of declaring war upon his best friend stefan, because he misunderstood stefan's caring for his own daughter as a snub against hubert's son. after challenging aurora's father to a duel, they quickly make up, before hubert hears phillip has arrived and rushes off to greet his son. there, the news is broken that phillip is actually in love with a peasant and that he plans to renounce the throne- which will actually cause a war- so that he can be with his beloved. hubert is convinced phillip is joking, especially as he happens to meet this mystery maiden on the date that aurora is set to come home- the most anticipated date for these past sixteen years in the kingdom- and his son is set to be a central figure in the celebration for the princess's homecoming! before he can reason with phillip, his son escapes, leaving hubert to be the one to break the news to stefan. heavy-hearted, as hubert tries to tell stefan, he keeps being interrupted by trumpets and the musical notes that are meant to accompany the princess in her debut to her country. then the fairies literally put hubert to sleep when he finally gets a chance to explain it to stefan and, when they're awoken from this fog like slumber, the first vision that greets hubert is that of his son and the princess??? the same son who said he had no interest in aurora, but was set to marry the peasant maiden. the whole thing concludes in a very charming "all's well that ends well" but i still think the whole "how am i ever going to tell stefan" dilemma, while continually being interrupted, and this king who declared war in 2 seconds flat and minced no words in being so short-tempered was suddenly at a loss for words and so hesitant and fumbling and nervous about this news his son sprung on him lol

one of the most haunting sequences in film is the one above. the three good fairies have endeared themselves to their mortal charge, even giving up their magic for her for sixteen years. their bond is so much deeper and meaningful than it would've been otherwise, as they probably would've blessed her at the christening and then only appeared in her life intermittently, at a distance. they clearly aren't close enough to humans to know too much about their customs, and their magic always gives them away as outsiders, which indicates they were always content to live in their own fairy-world. but then they give it all up for this baby, this child, and they change their entire world for her. she is their world, to the point where their sole purpose is protecting her, until that's all they can think about for close to two decades. they would do anything they could to make her happy, to give her a fighting chance at life. they're so protective over her- and the fact that they got this close to the finish line...only to leave her alone because they want to be respectful of giving her privacy as she's still reeling and processing from all the news they sprung about her at once. they were even discussing going to king stefan and attempting to convince him to let aurora out of the arranged marriage so that she could be with the boy in the woods. and this all leads to maleficent enchanting aurora to her demise. as the fairies place her in a bed for the last time, looking upon her in her princess form, all of the time they've spent with her runs through their mind. how this isn't their little briar rose anymore, but a princess who inhabits, not the woodcutter's cottage, but king stefan's castle. someone who will never be with them the way she once was ever again and who, presently, is dead for all they know. as they look upon their lost daughter, the faint chimes and musical notes of the celebration of her homecoming is heard in the distance. i could talk about this forever but it's just such a heartbreaking and sad but also eerie mood

in 2023, it's time king stefan gets his flowers. while, in the time period in which this film is set, it'd be totally realistic for a father to set his daughter up in an arranged marriage to further the prospects of his land, stefan displays an understanding that seems more contemporary than his counterpart, hubert. hubert doesn't think about prince phillip's feelings for a beat and concedes that the "children" are bound to fall in love with one another. meanwhile, stefan seems to display a much more well-rounded paternal instinct, even exemplifying a degree of care and concern for both aurora's emotional wellbeing and her consent. he urges hubert to calm down and remember that this might come as "quite a shock" to aurora and to not push all of these political arrangements upon his daughter before she's had a chance to react to them and digest them.

the duality of briar rose and princess aurora is so fascinating, but also the moments in which they overlap is more enchanting still. this is a fairytale that is meant to be archetypical, and aurora's enchanted slumber is meant to be symbolic for her transition from girlhood to womanhood. briar rose, the girl, is anxious about her future, the prospect of meeting her love and settling down and getting to the next stage of her life. she loves her guardians, but is frustrated at their inability to see and treat her as anything other than a child. she goes to sleep a scared, shy, unsure teenager and wakes up as a self-assured, mature, gracious woman- the princess aurora. she's a vision, descending the staircase on the arm of her beloved, and she paints quite the picture as she gracefully curtsies to her parents, the king and queen. yet, true to the girl from the cottage, briar rose takes over. unable to contain the love she feels, she bolts forward and rushes to embraced her lost parents. i love this because, for as calm as a character as aurora is, i've always been so mesmerized by the breathless excitement with which she speaks when she returns to the cottage. this is a girl that has more love inside her than she can contain and it renders her a beacon of light. her running into the arms of her parents, instead of resenting them for giving her up, putting her in an arranged marriage, or even pausing to question whether or not she should be so warm with these figureheads of state, is such a tender moment that i don't think i've ever heard anyone speak of.

i will never get tired of singing the praises of the three good fairies. this film placed three older, conventionally unattractive women at the forefront- without pushing forced hetero ships on any of them- and allowed them to be bad ass (ie saving phillip from the dungeon, providing him with the tools and guidance with which to defeat maleficent, coming up with all the plots and actions that propelled the plot forward), while reminding us that love and kindness is truly the most powerful force on earth and placing an emphasis on the strength and power of femininity. the entire transition, from them being business women in the kingdom essentially (this is more in modern jargon; them being the fairies who are invited to political organizations for their contributions and not knowing anything about things like cooking or cleaning or rearing a child) to learning how to raise a baby and the film ending with them beaming over the shining achievement of their assigned charge finally being safe and happy is...it's everything. how beautifully the film focuses on them and the relationship with their adopted daughter and how that's the driving goal in all of this is something that's been unable to ever be surpassed

#mine #marciabrady #sleeping beauty #disney #sleeping beauty 1959

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tanadrin · 10 days

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Do you think it's possible there's a planet with multiple stable sentient species who interact? Or would such a situation inevitably end up with one getting wiped out or the two hybridizing

Well, they could only hybridize if they were closely related, like humans and Neanderthals. And IIRC there's some evidence that humans and Neanderthals/Denisovans probably weren't all that interfertile to begin with, with most coding Neanderthal alleles getting weeded out of our genome.

I think it would be very difficult for two sentient species that shared overlapping niches to survive. H. sapiens and Neanderthals were both smart, seem to have both had language and culture, and had similar levels of technological sophistication, but the latter had a much lower population and so couldn't really compete when their cousins invaded their territory. And maybe some of this is a function of the wider human clade's tendency to engage in warfare and ecologically disruptive hunting--there's a big wave of megafauna extinction that seems to have followed the expansion of human populations all over the globe--but I'm not sure how many species of big-brained tool-users any niche could support.

But I do think that species with very different niches could coexist peacefully, at least long enough to work out that species in other niches were sentient, and to develop the ethical frameworks necessary for coexistence. If there were superintelligent squid, they wouldn't ever compete directly with humans for habitat (though we might have eaten a fair few by accident). We have also managed (just!) not to render extinct cetaceans, which are fairly intelligent, or our close cousins the chimpanzee. I could also imagine a science fictional scenario where two intelligent species were in some kind of important symbiotic or commensalist relationship that would stabilize their coexistence.

I think the other tricky thing though would be timing. It took a long time for the genus Homo to develop intelligence. AFAICT the australopithecines were closer to chimpanzees in terms of intelligence than they were to us; H. erectus was a lot smarter, but probably didn't have language; it's not until 700,000 to 200,000 years ago you get human species that are more fully developed in terms of their intelligence, and that feels like a super narrow window in terms of evolution for another intelligence species to also emerge. Because once you do get intelligent tool-users who spread over most of the globe, they seem likely to me to start to modify their environment in profound ways, like we have. So if another intelligent species doesn't already exist, the circumstances in which it is likely to arise after one species comes to prominence are going to be very different--more of an uplift scenario, maybe. Like I think if we discovered a group of chimpanzees with rudimentary language tomorrow, we would do our best not to fuck with them, but we would inevitably have some kind of impact on their existence for better or worse, right?

Maybe your best bet for multiple sentient species would be to have a reason that the first species (singular or plural) that arose didn't come to dominate the entire planet--they were aquatic, and so never mastered fire; or they were otherwise highly restricted in the biomes they could inhabit; or they were small in number like the Neanderthals, but could retreat to refugia in mountains and forests rather than be wiped out; or they were a diverse clade like early humans, but they also spread out very rapidly, and were subsequently isolated by climate conditions. Like, imagine Denisovans (who were already in Asia) had crossed the Bering Strait land bridge to the Americas, and then sea levels rose cutting them off until the Age of Discovery. If you had a planet that didn't effectively have a two supercontinents like Earth, you might have many more opportunities for related-but-geographically-divided species to develop (though that doesn't avoid the problem of what happens when they meet each other and start competing then).

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 24 days

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Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 4

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. ------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

Feel free to read this on AO3 if it is more comfortable for you due to its length. I only ask to support me with a like and reblog if you enjoy my work. ☺️

Author's note: Another long chapter, what is new! Things for the Reader are finally taking a good turn, with a new life at the horizon. I want her relationship with Sanji to develop properly and in the most realistic way possible, but I can pretty much confirm that, in the next update, a kiss will finally take place.

The Baratie was delivering more than a memorable meal on a casual night. In fact, you were set on crossing paths with Sanji again, perhaps even as a part of his team.

Despite your genuine intention to resolve matters at home, a whole week passed, and yet, you hadn't mustered the courage to approach your parents' door.

Mari had welcomed you into her home for as long as you needed, urging you to extend your stay until you felt sufficiently prepared to face your father's wrath. However, the harsh reality was that you would never truly be ready, as you had been grappling with this problem since you were born.

Sleep was elusive. The anxiety of potential repercussions gnawed at your insides, considering your father's unpredictable nature and the fact that he could orchestrate any form of punishment as long as it guaranteed your compliance.

"I'm telling you, just take your time. Rushing it would only backfire," Mari advised you, as you found it difficult to even consume your meal.

"I know, but I can't keep hiding here just to avoid them.”

She exhaled deeply. "I understand, but you should at least devise a reasonable plan.”

You grumbled in response. "A plan? Mari, no plan can shield me from my father's fury. I rejected the Admiral's son, and he considered it crucial to hand me over for his political gain. It's all a business transaction to him.”

"What kind of father treats his own daughter as a mere business asset?”

"Apparently, mine does.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

You shook your head, standing up and beginning to pace to and fro. "The problem is, there's no escape for me. If I confront him, he might just lock me in and force me into marriage. If I flee, he would most certainly hunt me down.”

Mari shrugged. "You could always seek refuge at the Baratie. You seemed quite at ease there, and you've even made a rather special friend.”

You attempted to disregarded her suggestive wink. "It’s the first place my father would take into account, and the last thing I want is for him to create a commotion and hassle the staff there.”

"But they could defend you. The head chef used to be a pirate, and you told us how Sanji gave Nutty a good thrashing. Honestly, that guy is fit as heck.”

“Mari.”

"Hey, I'm serious! Perhaps your judgment is clouded, but mine isn't. We all noticed the chemistry between you two. Sanji is genuinely interested in you, and with his strength and agility? Girl.”

It was difficult for you to ignore the blush creeping onto your cheeks at the thought. "That's not the issue here. I don't want to burden him more than I already have.”

She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, fine. I tried. Do it your way. But remember how long it took you to finally stand up against that jerk. I'm concerned for you, you know?”

You smiled. “I know.”

"All I'm suggesting is that you should stay here for at least another week. We can brainstorm a solution together.”

You were about to nod in agreement, when a forceful knock on her front door startled both of you. You pivoted towards Mari, straining your ear to determine if the person outside had mistakenly approached the wrong house.

"Were you expecting someone?" You asked her. "Did you invite the others?”

You immediatly felt apprehensive as you noticed her tense up in the distinct way she did when something was off. The knocking continued, more insistent than before, and somehow, a part of you already foresaw what was about to occur.

"I didn't," she responded. "Stay here.”

Mari dashed to the entrance, alert and clutching her gun as she moved. You heard the sound of the door being unlocked and creaking open, followed by her cautious, distant voice and another that was painfully familiar to you.

So familiar, in fact, that it sent a chill through your veins as soon as you heard it.

“Where is she?”

Your blood ran ice cold.

"I have no idea who you're referring to, sir," Mari replied indifferently.

"There's no need for you to hide her, she's been spotted here. Step aside, immediately.”

Your father's authoritative tone was unnerving. Even in someone else's home, he had the audacity to behave like a Marine when, in truth, he was a nobody. He leveraged his high-status acquaintances and associates as his safety net, confident that he had someone to turn to in times of need. He considered himself supremely important, treating everyone else as an inferior citizen with no significant rank.

Primarily your friends.

But Mari, being the strong-willed person she was, undoubtedly didn't feel intimidated.

"Nope, that's not going to fly with me. This is my place, so I suggest you just get lost and go hassle someone else.”

You heard the sound of the gun being cocked, and at that moment, you realized you couldn't remain idle. You were deeply indebted to her, aware that she would go to extraordinary lengths to ensure your safety and happiness. But as brave and robust as she was, and as much as you valued her protection and the zeal she invested in everything she did for you, the last thing you wanted was for her to bear the burden of your father's blood on her hands and land herself in trouble.

And despite the nature of your relationship with the man, you harbored no desire to see him meet his end.

You swiftly moved towards the door, your heart hammering in your chest as you saw her standing in the entrance, effectively barricading it.

"Mari, it's okay," you stated coldly. "I'll be fine.”

Your friend scarcely turned her head, not wishing to lower her guard in the presence of your unfazed father.

"No, Y/N. This man has wrecked your life. How 'fine' can you possibly be?”

Your father laughed boisterously. "Wrecked her life? I've only ever done what's best for her. But I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”

"How is arranging your daughter's marriage to a man she hates in her best interest?!”

It might have appeared almost comical, considering how his face was reddening and puffing up. You wished for nothing more than to see him back down and entirely give up on you, but you were aware that he wouldn't leave you alone when his personal benefit was at stake.

"Mari, that's enough," you said softly. "You're incredible and I love you, but I'll handle it from here.”

You could see her hesitance, her eyes darting back and forth, barely budging from the doorway. You gently squeezed the hand that was still clutching the gun, so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

Eventually, she dropped her shoulders and stepped aside to let you pass. "If anything happens to her," she began, casting a threatening glance at your father. "I swear, high status or not, you'll regret ever being born.”

"Watch your language, you impertinent child. I would never harm my own daughter."

"Yeah, because she's a crucial pawn in your schemes, right??”

Before he could delve further into the argument, you nudged him away. "Let's just go, please.”

You whispered a quiet "thank you" to Mari, and all your friend could do was exhale a frustrated sigh as she saw the man take a firm grip of your upper arm. You knew she wasn't the type to sit still, and there was a strong possibility that she might rally the rest of the group to follow you and keep surveillance outside your family's home.

That thought alone provided some solace, because no matter how strenuous things with your father might become over time, you knew you had a reliable support network in those good-hearted people. Your only regret was that it took so many years for you to understand that you couldn't continue letting your parents make decisions for you, simply because you yearned for their acceptance, their love, and to finally receive the decent treatment you deserved.

It was painful, and undeniably hard to accept, but that was something they were incapable of doing.

Your father was visibly enraged, not uttering a word to you during the journey. The way he was practically dragging you around was predictably filled with ire, and all you could do was respond to the onlookers' stares with a reassuring smile.

Deep down, though not really that deep, you found it absolutely mortifying, disheartening, and miserable.

Upon reaching your family's house (because you could no longer consider that place your home, it never truly was), he flung the door open. "Get in," he barked, roughly shoving you inside.

You stumbled and had to steady yourself with the back of the vacant chair at the head of the table. Your mother sat to the left, with Christopher to the right and Admiral Wheeler directly opposite you.

The atmosphere was thick with tension, your mother nervously cutting her piece of bread without even casting a glance your way, while your former fiancé's neck and jaw were rigid with stress. The admiral, on the other hand, seemed more puzzled and intrigued than anything else.

Somehow, perhaps due to your escalating nervousness, the whole situation elicited a chuckle from you as you took your seat. Your father occupied the empty chair next to his wife, and Chris immediately turned to you with a swollen, patched-up nose.

Unable to contain your enjoyment, you asked mockingly, "How's your face?"

His response was utterly foreseeable.

“Go to hell, bitch.”

“Christopher Wheeler.”

The admiral's voice was surprisingly booming, startling everyone present.

"What?! She started it!”

His father grunted, lightly smacking his hand against the table and causing his glass to vibrate on it. "How old are you, 12?”

It was unusual and somewhat unexpected, as the Admiral usually maintained a neutral stance, seldom intervening unless it was to make a joke. Somehow, you got the impression that he was taking your side for the first time, but you didn't want to deceive yourself with something that could simply be a product of your imagination.

Chris lowered his gaze, muttering a curse under his breath. Your mother's hands trembled with agitation, while your father cleared his throat to commence his speech.

"Admiral, I believe my daughter owes you an apology," he declared. "I'm certain this is all just a misunderstanding and she will come to her senses.”

The man leveled his gaze at you, expectation clearly etched in his eyes, yet remarkably devoid of any irritation. “Is that so?”

You sighed, feeling positively incensed and not in the mood to hold back. "No. I am perfectly sane.”

With a growl, your father took a deep breath, making an effort to recollect his composure. Sensing his tension, your mother tenderly grazed her fingers against his wrist, doing the best she could to defuse the situation.

"She's not serious. Y/N merely panicked when your son proposed to her, nothing more.”

With a look of disgust, you shifted your attention to your father. "May I remind you that you're not in my head.”

He nonchalantly brushed you aside with a dismissive wave of his hand, anxiously awaiting the Admiral's response.

Nevertheless, the Marine kept his focus directed at you, narrowing his eyes as though wanting to perceive something that you couldn't quite put into words.

"Perhaps she should speak for herself," he suggested.

Your father was left dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open as he glanced back and forth between you and the Admiral.

A slight smile appeared on your face. "At least someone values my opinion.”

The admiral gave a nod of his head, which threw Christopher into a state of discomfort.

You had no intention of holding yourself back. "He slapped me. Are we truly going to overlook that?”

Christopher coughed, squirming in his chair like a mouse caught in a trap.

"Hold on, what? Is that the truth, son?”

“W-well…. uhm….”

Admiral Wheeler released a sigh of defeat, shrouding his face with his large hand while incessantly shaking his head.

“I was angry!”

Frankly, you expected your former fiancé to deny it, to pretend innocence and claim that you were spinning stories for self-defense, all while maintaining the facade of a noble and respectful man. However, in the end, he appeared so inconsequential and weak that it evoked pity in you. He seemed to crave his father's approval, reflecting the same longing you nurtured towards yours for a very long time.

The Admiral pronounced your father's name with such severity that it made both him and your mother wince. "I'd like to have a word with your daughter. In private.”

Your father was visibly panicking, for things were veering in a direction he hadn't predicted. "Uhm, well you see.... I don't think that's a good ide-”

“I insist.”

The Marine's face was marked by a large grin, yet it was so strained and intimidating that it managed to scare even you.

Ultimately, your parents had no choice but to comply, sinking back into their seats like two frightened children. You had never seen them appear so distraught.

"Y/N, would you mind accompanying me to the kitchen?”

The noticeably softer way in which the Admiral addressed you was disarming, yet you appreciated it all the same.

As he rose from his chair and ambled away, the silence that enveloped the main room was deafening. You promptly followed him and closed the kitchen door behind you, feeling a bit uneasy as you had never really established much familiarity with the Admiral.

Mr. Wheeler settled in comfortably, exhaling a relaxed breath and signaling for you to join him. Heeding his gesture, you took a stool next to him, the flickering fire in front of you, your gaze resting on the chicken being prepared.

At the current pace, you were sure it would end up burnt, but you found yourself lacking the energy to make a comment on it.

"Sir, I apologize for dragging you into this," you finally voiced. "It wasn't my intention to disrespect you or your son.”

He arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Do you think I wanted to speak with you because of that?”

“That’s not it?”

"No, my dear. I am actually interested in understanding how you truly feel. It's evident that you don't wish to marry my son. Thus, I'm curious as to why you adhered to your father's directive up until this point?”

Your eyes dropped to your hands, your chest constricting with emotion. "Because I wanted to make him happy."

He hummed thoughtfully. "Even if it implies condemning yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness?”

"It's pathetic, isn't it?”

"No, Y/N. It's not.”

For some reason, his unexpected kindness brought tears to your eyes, and you found yourself suppressing a sob of despair that rattled you to your core.

"In reality, I am the one who owes you an apology.”

You sniffled, wiping your forming tears away. "Why is that?”

"For all this time, I merely stood by in silence, permitting your old man to do as he pleased. I considered him a valuable asset, given his extensive network and the wealth of information he has access to.”

You listened in silence, engulfed in the grief you had suppressed for far too long.

"I've been observing you. I assumed you would object, as your expression suggested you were not in agreement with his instructions, but then you never did.”

Your attention was fixated on the flames consuming the chicken, which was now assuming a questionable dark hue.

"Eventually, I convinced myself that I was wrong, that you willingly chose this path and had your unique way of expressing it. I never truly took your feelings into account, I remained silent, and didn’t step up to protect you.”

"You weren't obligated to look out for me, Admiral," you asserted.

"No, but you were on track to become a part of my family. Under the assumption that you would marry my son, I should have shown more consideration.”

"What changed, then?"

"You did. The night we dined at the Baratie, I noticed something in you that wasn't present before. You looked so heartbroken… so out of place. And for the first time, you snapped.”

You recollected the way your father treated you that night, so disrespectful, demanding a level of submission you were no longer willing to exhibit.

"It was rather amusing, truth be told. I witnessed you finally standing up for yourself, and your father was unable to control that.”

Your lips trembled as you managed to summon another smile for him.

"You see, when my wife passed away, I pledged to my son that I would be a good parent, to prevent him from feeling any sense of deprivation growing up," he elaborated. "But I made a grave mistake; I ended up spoiling him, granting his every wish. I even facilitated his career progression because I knew he aspired to follow in my footsteps.”

While Admiral Wheeler typically radiated confidence, strength, and composure, he now seemed like an entirely different person. The man sitting beside you was vulnerable, sensitive, and laden with flaws that made him a bit more human. Just like you.

"When I recognized that he had become self-centered and excessively prideful to the point of discomfort, it was too late. I could no longer influence his character.”

"Admiral, I may not like your son, but Christopher has some redeeming qualities too.”

"I appreciate your intention to assuage my guilt, but there's no need to defend him. Never did I teach him it was acceptable to lay a hand on a woman.”

"I wasn’t exactly nice to him. I’m not saying that I deserved it, it’s just…”

He tenderly squeezed your shoulder in a paternal way. "No, there's no excuse for what he did. And I'm extremely sorry you had to endure all of this."

There was so much you wanted to convey, but despite the immense effort to organize your thoughts, the only thing that managed to escape your lips was a simple "Okay.”

"Just tell me something, Y/N, and please answer honestly. Do you believe I can trust your father?”

His question took you by surprise, but it was clear to you that by that point, the Admiral had grown deeply doubtful of their partnership.

For a brief moment, you deliberated whether it was appropriate to reveal the truth to him. Perhaps, if this had happened just a few weeks earlier, you might have felt unable to do so.

But as the Admiral had pointed out, you were no longer the same.

"From a professional standpoint, he excels at what he does, and he holds a significant amount of knowledge that could be advantageous to you.”

“But?”

You pursed your lips together, constructing the most persuasive sentence possible to convince him.

"But I don't believe he's trustworthy. You've seen what he tried to do with me; he shows no qualms when it comes to his own interests.”

He affirmed with a tilt of his head. "Seems like I squandered my time on such a greed-driven mastermind.”

“I’m sorry.”

"Don't be. If anything, I came to this realization before it was too late.”

He pushed his chair back and stood up, switching off the fire and waving his hand to dissipate the building smoke. The chicken was undeniably overcooked and much too charred to be edible. What a waste.

“Well, this room now reeks.”

In a fit of genuine amusement, the admiral returned to your side, giving you a supportive pat on the back as he did so.

"You know," he admitted, " You've always been superior to anyone else in my circle. You exude honesty and innocence; everything you do is heartfelt, even in moments when you're not fully aware of it.”

Ironically, the praises you had wished for from your own family were now being bestowed upon you by the man they chose to be your father-in-law.

“Part of me harbored the belief that you could change my son, turn him into a better man, and succeed where I have failed,” he admitted. "But the reality is, he would only end up shattering you.”

As the smoke dissipated through the open window, it unveiled the chicken that looked defeated, drained, and consumed. A mirror image of how you had felt for too many years.

"I want to make amends, Y/N. I understand that I'm not your family, but I believe your parents aren't the best figures to look up to. Should you ever require anything, absolutely anything, don't hesitate to approach me.”

Unconsciously, a sigh of relief escaped from you. The knowledge that you had an ally, someone as influential and impartial as he was, brought a measure of consolation, however slight.

"Thank you, Admiral. Your words carry great significance for me."

Reflecting on the intimidation you experienced the first time you laid eyes on Admiral Wheeeler, you found it mildly amusing now. Your worry was unfounded, as a powerful wave of confidence swept over you, bolstered by the man’s reassuring presence.

At that point, the prospects could only get better. After all, once you've hit rock bottom, there's no direction left but upwards.

You had emerged victorious.

After a lifetime of living in fear, enduring criticism and subjugation, you had finally triumphed in your battle against your family.

Admiral Wheeler had officially cut all professional ties with your father, which resulted in the latter exploding in rage, blaming you for being a complete catastrophe and ruining his career. However, this time, regardless of the aggression he unleashed, you didn’t even flinch. You allowed him to vent while you calmly sipped your tea, also taking satisfaction in how his former partner chastised him, forcefully ordering him to leave you alone and treat you with respect.

But it didn’t stop there. The Admiral chose to demote his son effective immediately, compelling him to regain his position without any form of favoritism. Your ex-fiancé was seething, on the brink of desperation so intense that you believed he might succumb to tears any moment. He glanced at you as if you were the most repulsive creature he had ever encountered.

And you were thoroughly gratified.

With most of your belongings already stowed away in your secret stash, there wasn't much you needed to retrieve from your old room. You happily left all those incredibly uncomfortable clothes untouched, as you were mainly focused on collecting a few leftover books.

Now that the Admiral and his son had left, the house fell into silence, and you found your parents in a state of utter defeat, staring blankly at the floor as you stepped into the living room.

You observed them to gauge whether they had anything additional to contribute to their ceaseless list of insults, but it appeared they no longer had the energy to even try.

Quietly, you moved towards the door, holding your bag and wrapping your hand around the handle. But before you could open it and step outside for the very last time, you felt the need to voice your feelings, despite knowing they would likely take no effect.

“You know, things could have been different. If you had treated me like a daughter rather than a tool from the moment I was born, I could have truly added value to this family.”

Your father grunted, shaking his head to dismiss your argument.

"I understand you wanted a son, dad. I apologize for not being the one you had hoped for.”

He looked away, and your mother wrapped her arms around herself, releasing a deep sigh.

“You've enslaved me and molded me into a submissive echo of a person. I've done nothing but strive to please you, to provide what you desired. But in the end, it was never enough.”

He was about to retaliate, but this time, your mother took his hand and signaled him to restrain himself.

And so, you persisted undeterred.

"I wish I could say that I hate you, but despite how much you've hurt me, I can't deny that I still love you after everything.”

Your words appeared to deliver a potent message, akin to an arrow hitting dead center. However, you didn't let their sudden discomposure detain you any longer.

Most likely, they were simply wounded in their pride more than anything else.

"But, as much as I'd like to erase the past, the fact remains that I won't be able to ever forgive you.”

Your mother bit her lower lip, and your father appeared to hold a similar degree of resentment. Certainly, you didn't expect him to envelop you in his arms and plead for a second chance, but the prioritization of his status over his own flesh and blood inflicted yet another painful wound to your heart.

"I wish you a good life.”

Your grip on the bag's strap tightened, and without a single backward glance, you thrust the door open to be welcomed by the evening air, with the final rays of the setting sun fading on the horizon.

And by your friends, who were patiently leaning against the wall of your family’s house, prepared to step in at any given moment if necessity arose.

Your parents made no effort to hinder you. They neither called out your name nor insisted that you remain.

Everything had come to an end, and you were completely freed from the chains that had kept you trapped in a lifelong nightmare from which you had finally awakened.

"What are you going to do now?" Rory asked as she sat on the couch with you. "I'm glad you're finally free from that despot, but technically, you're now homeless.”

"No, she is not. I have plenty of room here, she can stay with me,” said Mari.

You chuckled, sitting up straight. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think I'll be sticking around in this town.”

They all froze on the spot, staring at you as if they had just seen a ghost.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Marlo asked.

"Well, at least for the immediate future. I'm not entirely sure where I'll end up eventually, but... there's something I really want to do now.”

Your friends shared a knowing look with each other, immediately emitting a satisfied, mischievous 'Ooohh.’

"Wait, guys, it's not what you think.”

"Really?" Rubio sat on the opposite side of the couch, nudging you with his large elbow. "So you're not going to tell us you're heading back to the Baratie for that chef-guy?”

You rolled your eyes. "It's not exactly like that. Well, not entirely.”

"Aha!”

"I'm serious! He's not the primary reason, I still owe them for the chaos that Christopher created.”

Mari rested her hand on her chin, pondering aloud. "You know, that's not a bad excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse!”

Marlo snickered. "Yeah, and I'm a fish-man. Come on, we know you all too well.”

At times, they could be exasperating, but without a doubt, they had a better understanding of you than you did of yourself.

"Okay, fine. I admit I do want to see him again... but there's something about the Baratie that I can't quite put into words.”

Rory's expression brightened. "Wait, you want to work there?”

"Maybe? I am contemplating it. I need to compensate them for the wasted food and damaged tableware.”

Marlo nodded. "That makes sense, but it might only be for a short time. How much do you think that stuff was worth?”

Mari started to mentally tally up. "Well, their cuisine is of high quality and not exactly the cheapest. The tableware may not be particularly expensive, but they ended up with at least two plates and two glasses to replace.”

“Let's not forget about the tablecloth to wash,” you added.

Rubio gave a nonchalant shrug. "So maybe a week or less?”

“Most likely, yes.”

You exhaled a sigh. "Guys, this is just a hypothesis. I'm not even certain they would allow me to work there at all.”

Mari shot you a wild, excited grin. “But you have an inside connection.”

"Indeed! Sanji would definitely put in a good word for you," Rory chimed in.

The enthusiastic way they encouraged you was simultaneously embarrassing and thrilling. Their backing prompted a hearty laughter from you as they all gathered around, embodying the spirit of the close-knit family they represented.

Thus, as Mari was delineating the specifics for your formal employment request, she assured you a safe passage on their ship.

The day you left your hometown to return to the Baratie, your anxiety escalated to levels you thought were only attainable when dealing with Christopher or your father. Now, as you attired yourself and mentally braced for an endeavor that could potentially lead to a total flop, managing your soaring nerves emerged as your most formidable challenge yet.

This time around, only Mari accompanied you on your journey. The others had their own obligations to attend to, and they felt it would be awkward to all turn up simply for you to hand in a job application.

In a way, they acted as if you wouldn't be returning, hugging you tightly and wishing you a marvelous time at the floating restaurant. Their optimism undeniably compensated for your own scarcity of it, and they succeeded in instilling a bit of positivity in you.

The weather was pleasant, warm with a touch of moisture in the air, but offset by the cool, revitalizing sea breeze. The ship felt notably empty with just you and Mari on board, but you didn't want to burden the others with the expectation of always being in your company.

The reality was, you were uncertain about what awaited you. Not only were you unsure about possible developments with Sanji, but there also existed a risk that Zeff might scoff at you for even nurturing ambitions of securing a role at the Baratie. What could you feasibly contribute to their team other than some dishwashing and kitchen tidying? Your home cooking skills weren't outstanding enough to be of use, and you couldn't think of any other particular talents you possessed. You had dedicated so many years striving to liberate yourself from your constrained existence that you barely had time to develop new ones.

Luckily, Mari was there to bolster your spirits and remind you that cleaning itself was indeed a valuable ability. You had a notable knack for being quick and extremely meticulous in that area, and such a trait would be a significant asset for any restaurant, irrespective of its reputation.

Being used to your parents' critique, it was difficult for you to harbor the same self-belief as your friends did, but you determined that it would be worth attempting regardless of the result.

Now, as you looked at the ocean waves softly swaying the ship, immersed in your thoughts, Mari clasped your hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Hey, I know that embarking on a new life can be daunting, but I'm incredibly proud of you for what you've accomplished.”

You replied with a smile, returning the supportive gesture. "Whenever I think about it, I feel as though I might wake up and discover that none of it was real.”

Mari shook her head. "Believe me, Y/N, it's absolutely real. And all jokes aside, I must say that I genuinely root for you and Sanji.”

“I barely know him. And I'm not sure if I can truly take his compliments at face value.”

"Why, do you believe he's merely toying with you? Because I think he’s serious.”

You took a moment to consider your response, then declared, "No, it's not that. I can see in his eyes that he's not lying. But in the end, I'm just one amongst the multitude of customers he's come across, and you've seen how prone he is to flirting.”

Mari emitted a grunt. "Yes, but that's different. Do you want to know what I genuinely saw?”

“What did you see?”

"Sanji is handsome, and an incredibly talented cook too. But despite his good looks and talents, I think he's actually a little insecure. I could be wrong, but who knows what that guy has been through.”

Upon contemplation, you realized you didn't really know much about Sanji's past, as he hadn't divulged anything beyond his life at the Baratie, his spats with Zeff, and his dream of discovering the All Blue. You hadn't asked, but it was plausible that Mari had a point.

"What I'm saying is that the way he looked at you was authentic, and I'm not speaking from my biased perspective. You know that I can be quite straightforward when necessary. Sanji likes you, I'm sure of it... and if you ended up working there alongside him, all doubts would be dispelled.”

Mari was known for being a sharp observer, and she rarely misread someone she had the chance to assess at first sight.

"Perhaps you're right," you conceded. "But wouldn't that make things even more complex for us, being coworkers?”

"Oof. The worst-case scenario would be the two of you not getting enough privacy, but the real fun always kicks in during the night anyway.”

With laughter bubbling up, you affectionately bumped your forehead against hers. "You're such a mischief-maker.”

“And proud of it!”

While you dearly valued all your friends equally, the connection you had with Mari was distinctively special, leaning more towards a sisterly bond. From a young age, she had always been exceptionally resilient and served as an inspiration to you, someone who remained impervious to those who attempted to pull her down. She was consistently there for you when you needed her, never once refusing to stand by your side. Despite her critique of your lack of bravery against your family, she never passed harsh judgment, offering unwavering support through your tribulations.

Even at this point, she expressed concern to the extent of guaranteeing your job security, fully cognizant of the potential reality of embarking on the return journey solo.

The commute to the restaurant was seamless and serene. You seized this opportunity to delve further into your books, inscribe reflections in your journal, and engage in thoughtful discourse about your future aspirations. Working at the Baratie, irrespective of how long it may last, was a promising stride towards your total independence.

Your parents never permitted you to secure a job on your own, always orchestrating strategic meetings to ingratiate you with society's elites and political figures. The roles you were assigned were fairly mundane, often restricted to tasks such as serving drinks or filing paperwork. The earnings you made were under your family's surveillance, and squirreling away bits of Berries for personal use proved to be a laborious endeavor.

For the first time, you had the opportunity to achieve something solely for yourself, free from their meddling or overbearing presence.

However, the instant Mari pointed out the emerging silhouette of the Baratie in the distance, an immediate wave of weakness swept over your knees and a queasy sensation began to churn in your stomach.

"Y/N, take it easy! It's not a big deal, all you need to do is smile and maintain a polite attitude. That's something you've been trained to do all your life.”

"No, this feels different. I've never been so invested in a job application before.”

Mari gently rubbed your back as you hunched over the table, shrouding your face between your arms. "What if I don't measure up?”

"Enough of that talk! You'll do great, believe me. Anyone who passes on you would be making a foolish mistake."

"Do you really think so?”

"Of course I do. Now, perk up. I know you're also anxious about Sanji, but he should actually serve as a positive motivator.”

You groaned. "Please, let's not go there.”

"Alright, listen carefully," she instructed in a stern voice, compelling you to raise your head and meet her eyes. "The fact that you hesitate whenever someone brings up his name signifies that you've encountered a man who could finally shake your world. As we both know, that's a rarity.”

You acknowledged with a nod.

"Like I said, I'm confident the feelings are mutual, so that's not something you need to fret over. Just go with the flow, take things as they come.”

You sank back into your chair, a look of resignation on your face. "I'm at a loss, Mari. Everything feels so surreal to me at this moment.”

It was unfathomable how a single night at the Baratie had the power to completely upend your life; One minute, you were betrothed to a Marine you had no interest in, succumbing to your father's will. Then, as if struck by a lightning bolt, you broke free from your cocoon, asserting your rights and discarding your shackles in an astonishingly short span of time.

And now, you were en route back to the Baratie in pursuit of a job, all while dealing with the unsettling emotions stirred up by a man you only met twice.

Your infatuation with Sanji was undeniable. Despite your tries to brush it off, from the very first moment your eyes locked with his, you were completely smitten.

It may have been childish, likely ridiculous and possibly doomed to burst like a bubble in the wind for all you knew. Yet, despite your trepidations and uncertainties, a persistent voice inside your head urged you to heed the call of your heart.

Mari's smile widened, and she tenderly stroked your hair in a soothing gesture. "Sweetie, everything will work out. Relax, take a deep breath, and give it your all.”

And naturally, your only recourse was to gather all the strength you possessed and press on.

Upon reaching the restaurant's entrance, your feet inexplicably froze. You observed various patrons walk up to the deck and step inside, all primed to relish the most delectable fare the East Blue had to offer. Although it was still quite early and not exactly dinnertime, the enticing aroma wafting from the restaurant—a tantalizing blend of grilled meat, fish, and roasted potatoes, capped off with the unmistakable sweet scent of freshly baked cake—indicated that the Baratie staff was always well-prepared.

You had anticipated the place to be less crowded, but securing a conversation with Zeff might prove to be more challenging than you had originally thought.

"Y/N, let's go. What are you doing standing here stiff as cod?”

"Mari, I don't think I can go through with this," you proclamed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, don't be silly. Of course, you can.”

She took your upper arm in her firm grasp, and you had no choice but to let her coax you out of your paralysis. Upon crossing the threshold, Mari instantly engaged in a dialogue with the fish-man. She pointed out a table that, to your repeated surprise, she appeared to have reserved for the forthcoming hours.

"One of these days, you'll have to let me in on your secret," you said to her.

"Pfff, I have no idea what you're talking about!”

You trailed after her animated figure through the dining room, which, although noticeably less crowded compared to the main area, was still bustling with activity.

The table was cozy and beautifully set for two, already decked with some enticing bread. Unfortunately, your current stomach condition was far from ideal, making the thought of savoring any food quite uninviting. Nevertheless, your resolve to meet Sanji again, potentially as a part of their crew, was not shaken.

No sooner had you reached your seat than a familiar voice echoed from across the room. Its charm was instantly enthralling, causing you to whip your head around so quickly that you could almost feel your nerves stretching within.

There stood Sanji, attired in his crisp white chef's uniform, deep in conversation with a waiter near the kitchen entrance. The instant your eyes fell on his brilliant smile, the blond hair gently falling over his left eye, the defined contour of his jaw, and the rhythmic bobbing of his Adam's apple, it felt as if your chest was about to explode. You redirected your attention back to Mari, taking in a deep breath as you felt your cheeks glow with warmth.

"Mari, he's here.”

"Yeah, I can see that.”

“What should I do?”

"What are you waiting for? Go say hi!”

She was thoroughly enjoying herself, her giggles echoing at your evident agitation in Sanji's presence.

"He's on duty, I can't just go over there and distract him from his responsibilities.”

"Actually, nevermind. I think he's just spotted us.”

Your heart leaped so violently that you needed to swallow it back down. "What?! You're kidding, right?”

“I’m not joking. Don’t turn around, he’s heading our way.”

Shit shit shit shit.

What were you even supposed to say? Would he be glad to see you? How could you maintain a cool exterior when you were struggling to keep your rambling in check? What if-

“You’re back!”

Mari pursed her lips in an effort to contain a burgeoning laugh, a reaction that was completely justifiable given the circumstances.

You spun around, and the moment you locked eyes with him, your breath was completely taken away. Because, honestly, how could a man possibly be this attractive?

Regardless, you managed to summon a bright smile in response. "Sanji, hi!"

“Hey!”

The gentleness that radiated from his greeting was simply overwhelming. He didn't afford you a moment to digest the situation, as he promptly swept you into a hug that was gentle, slightly cautious, yet concurrently bold. You could catch his aroma interlaced with the scent of cigarette and the kitchen's fragrances. It was soothing, it was sweet, and it was unforeseen.

Sanji appeared genuinely thrilled to see you there, and you courageously lifted your hands to hesitantly reciprocate his embrace.

Despite the barrier of clothing, you could feel the hardness of his muscles against your palms.

"I was concerned about you. Are you okay?”

The realization that he had been thinking of you was flattering and heartwarming.

"Yes, I'm doing well.”

You appeared to lose track of your surroundings, and even Sanji seemed reluctant to draw away from you. The sound of Mari's throat-clearing brought you back to reality, urging you to create a distance from him as you regained your poise.

"Good to see you again," she addressed him.

Sanji responded with a graceful smile, reaching out for the hand she had extended for a formal shake. In a classic display of his gentlemanly manners, albeit a bit extravagant yet still charming to see, he opted to lightly kiss her knuckles instead. "The pleasure is mine, madam.”

"Oh my, where have you been hiding all this time?"

Seeing as she was looking straight at you with an almost unnoticeable wink, it was clear that she was asking that question on your behalf.

Sanji looekd bashful, eyeing you with an enchanting glint in his aquamarine eyes. It made you go weak in the knees, akin to a punch in the gut that left you breathless and light-headed.

Mari, quickly picking up on your temporary disorientation, immediately intervened to break the ice. She leaned casually against Sanji, resting her arm comfortably on his shoulder. "Could we possibly have a word with your boss? There's a matter of utmost importance that requires discussion.”

Right, you thought to yourself. Of course. Pull yourself together, Y/N!

Sanji's brows furrowed in confusion. "You want to speak with Zeff?”

Mari subtly nodded to nudge you, shifting her eyes to the side as a signal towards him.

"Oh, uhm... yes. Is he around?”

"When isn't the old man breathing down my neck?" He responded, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'll get him.”

"I appreciate it, thank you.”

His smile broadened considerably, his expression reverting back to his playful, flirtatious manner. "Anything for you, beautiful.”

Why did his compliments always make you blush as red as a ripe tomato? Your cheeks felt like they were set ablaze as you watched him walk away, and your heart pounded so violently that you were half-convinced it might cause the entire establishment to tumble violently into the sea.

Gosh. Even his walk was alluring, not to mention the way he swept his left bangs away from his face.

"Mari, I swear, you're going to be the end of me.”

"In what way?”

"Just look at me. I’m a mess.”

She scoffed at your words. "Enough of that. Cheer up, I assure you there is no chance he will reject you. And by 'he', I'm referring to the head chef.”

"How can you be so sure?”

"You'll see. Just trust me on this, okay?”

Somehow, her smile suggested that she had been keeping a substantial piece of information hidden all along. "Mari, what is it that you're not telling me?”

"Ease up.”

You looked at her in disbelief, observing her casual movements as she settled into a seat and picked up a piece of bread from the basket at the center. Sighing in resignation, you mirrored her actions, settling into the chair on the opposite side of the table, but not daring to touch even a single crumb.

Each passing second felt like an eternity, the uncertainty of what the day held looming ominously over you. Your father's harsh words persistently invaded your thoughts, echoing in your ears as if he were shouting them from right behind you. "You're a failure. You won't achieve anything on your own. You are nothing without me.”

There was more to you than the image he consistently tried to project. Yet, every time you attempted to place some faith in your abilities, he always managed to pull you back down. His influence was felt even in his absence.

Minutes ticked by, too many to keep track of. Just as you were on the verge of standing up and storming out of the main door, Zeff's gruff voice resounded into the dining room.

"Well, I'll be damned!”

For a moment, you feared he was critiquing your presence before you could even speak to him, but it didn't take long for you to realize that his words weren't meant for you at all.

"Zeff!”

Your eyes expanded in surprise as you watched Mari greeting the chef with the familiarity of an old friend. Her hands comfortably encased his larger one in a warm clasp. "Thank you for making time for us. I know how busy you can be.”

Wait, what?

"Do you remember my friend, Y/N?”

To say that you were utterly shocked would be an understatement. What sort of joke had you wandered into?

"Aye. I hope you're faring well now.”

Despite your attempts to regain your voice, you could only nod in response.

"She has something to discuss with you," Mari interjected. "But it would be best to have the conversation privately, just between the two of you.”

Zeff hummed in understanding. "I suppose I can take a minute off.”

Your blood turned icy as the pieces fell into place. The effortless way Mari had secured a table when others had to wait weeks in line, her overbearing confidence about your hiring request - it all suddenly made sense given how well-acquainted she was with the person in charge.

A part of you felt betrayed, as if you had been deceived right from the start.

Mari called out your name, noticing your complexion turning pale. This time, your reaction had nothing to do with your previous anxiety, which had now completely dissipated and been replaced by a newfound determination to uncover more.

"I apologize, but... you owe me some explanations.”

Zeff placed his hands on either side of his waist, chuckling with amusement. "You didn't mention it to her, ey?”

Mari grinned like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oopsie.”

"Don't give me an 'oopsie' now, this isn't something to be taken lightly.”

"Listen, we will talk about it later, I promise. For now, just go with Zeff and do what you need to do.”

Now, in light of your discovery, your skepticism had greatly deepened. Would he even consider hiring you based on your own merits, or were things already prearranged, again?

Not wanting your journey to have been entirely futile, you eventually resolved to engage in conversation with the head chef.

"Fine. But don't think you're off the hook so easily.”

Mari remained as calm and confident as ever, not perceiving your warning as particularly grave.

Shifting her focus back to the mustachioed man, she offered an innocent smile. "She's more feisty than she looks.”

Zeff was a far cry from the serious former pirate you remembered. Whether this change was a result of Mari's visit or merely a buoyed spirit, you couldn't really tell.

"I'll keep that in mind," He said with a hearty chuckle. “Come on, this way.”

As he pivoted to guide you to a more secluded area, Mari offered a gentle shove on your back and flashed two thumbs up. Despite her encouragement, uncertainty lingered in you as you quietly followed the the man with the pegged leg towards the known environment of his office.

The chef settled comfortably into the chair behind his desk, courteously offering the one in front of him for you. As you sat down, you played with your fingers, unsure about how to initiate the dialogue.

Eventually, you posed the most straightforward question that came to mind.

"May I inquire about how you know my friend, sir?”

Zeff grasped his long white hat, setting it delicately on the table and revealing his tousled blond short hair. "Ah, that's quite a story that she might want to share with you herself.”

You arched an eyebrow with no intention of backing down, anticipating further explanation.

He sighed deeply, then confessed, "I knew her father, a long time ago.”

From your recollections, the man had met a tragic end in a maritime accident when Mari was but a child, the specifics of which she had never wished to divulge. By the time you first encountered her, he was already gone. She consistently spoke of him as a hero she aimed to emulate - a figure of strong morality and impressive fighting prowess.

It wasn’t hard for you to grasp the truth behind what she hadn't disclosed.

Delving deeper into it, you asked, "He was a pirate, wasn’t he?"

“….Aye.”

Considering her personality and her typical approach to handling things, it indeed provided a believable explanation.

And then, you could see a wave of melancholy wash over Zeff's features.

"She's a good kid," he continued. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree”

Regrettably, you couldn't entirely concur with that sentiment. "Sometimes it does, but that's a different story.”

Zeff watched you with intense scrutiny, observing as you lowered and shook your head in an attempt to dispel unwanted memories.

"Did you want to ask me something?”

Tightening your grip on your knees, you confirmed. “I do, sir.”

“Go on, then.”

It seemed that Mari hadn't actually revealed your intentions to the chef. Either that, or he was exceptionally good at concealing it.

"Firstly, I wanted to sincerely apologize again for the actions of my ex-fiancé during our last visit.”

"Nah, you shouldn't be the one apologizing," he emphasized.

"I accompanied him here, so it falls on me. I wanted to ask if there's any way I could make amends for the ruined food and damages.”

Zeff pondered your question, stroking the top of his big mustache. “What do you have in mind?”

You swallowed your nervousness, doing your best to articulate a suitable proposal without stumbling over your words.

"Is there any possibility that I could.... work here?”

Just as anticipated, a look of surprise slightly enlarged his eyes. "You want to work in my restaurant?”

"For as long as you deem appropriate. I don't have much to offer, but I could... maybe undertake cleaning duties? Wash the dishes? Things like that. I don’t require any compensation.”

When he persisted in his silence, you were consumed with apprehension that he might belittle you. What could a girl like you, primarily groomed to appear attractive and agreeable to affluent men, possibly contribute to a restaurant like his?

"I understand that I'm not exactly an ideal candidate. My cooking skills are quite basic, and I don't have any standout abilities that would make me a valuable addition to your team.”

He paid careful attention, noting how your eyes sparkled with unwavering conviction.

"But I'm a quick learner, and I'm really skilled at polishing things.”

"Why here? Why the Baratie?”

His interest was sincere, and it was highly probable that Zeff was trying to understand you and your motivations.

“If you want to work for me because of what that worthless excuse of a man did, don't bother.”

How could you possibly explain to him the depth of your interest, proving that it extended way beyond merely settling a debt?

As per Mari's advice, the most advantageous way to secure the job was to communicate your thoughts openly and honestly. Your brightest prospect of success stemmed from utilizing your innate strengths and maintaining your true self.

You had spent your entire life in pretense, masquerading as someone you never wanted to become.

"Sir, may I speak frankly?”

“Please do.”

And surely, Zeff was not a man to be readily influenced by insincere proclamations.

"I genuinely like it here. I spent an entire evening in your kitchen, and I was impressed by the passion and teamwork of your employees," you expressed. "From a young age, I was instructed to be assertive in all aspects of my life, all in the pursuit of finding a suitable husband who could provide political advantages for my parents.”

A large, unpleasant lump was developing in your throat, but you chose to disregard it.

“I had no voice in any decision, not once was I allowed to choose my own path. I was constantly reminded that I held no value on my own, and unfortunately, I started to believe it.”

The man’s gaze softened and his shoulders eased.

"For once, I want to choose for myself, to prove that I am more than what they led me to convince myself of.”

"Prove to whom, to them?”

“To myself.”

Suddenly, you felt a surge of tenacity that you never thought you could summon, realizing you had nothing left to lose.

"I'm not a chef, nor am I an experienced waitress. All I'm asking for is a chance, without anyone else dictate who I am.”

A silence descended between you two. Zeff's expression transformed to one of seriousness and focus, his eyes narrowing. The fact that he didn't dismiss you outright and was prepared to pause his work to listen was a hopeful sign. However, the impact of your words was still uncertain.

Eventually, he reacted with a pleased "hah!", evidently valuing your honest admission.

“Just so we’re clear,” he started, “Working here won’t be easy.”

"I'm not expecting it to be, sir.”

"We rise early, and the kitchen needs to be operational at all times.”

“Naturally.”

You were not one to oversleep or shirk your responsibilities anyway.

"It can turn into a real mess, with many dishes and pans to scrub.”

"I'm accustomed to putting a lot of elbow grease.”

The more you answered, the more satisfied he seemed. He sported a friendly and gentle smile, complemented by his long, twisted mustache.

"If you work, you get paid. You don’t owe me anything. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

His intentions were unequivocally transparent, leaving no margin for error. However, despite the apparent success of your request, your mind was struggling to process it.

“And just another thing,” he uttered. “Whatever is happening between you and the Little Eggplant, it needs to stay out of my kitchen.”

Though he didn't seem noticeably irritated, the mere mention of Sanji was enough to instantly set you on edge.

"Oh... no, I don't.... we... I mean, there’s nothing going on.”

With a subtle smirk, Zeff let out a muffled chuckle before picking up his hat and resettling it on his head. "You start tomorrow morning, be ready at dawn. ”

You stared at him, mouth wide open in sheer incredulity, letting his words sink in. “Wait, that’s it?”

"I thought you wanted the job.”

"I do! It's just... I wasn't expecting you would accept.”

Zeff took a deep breath and released it with a prolonged exhalation. “You are asking me, and I don’t see any compelling reason to decline.”

"You… you’re not doing this because of Mari, right?”

“If you’re under the impression that I would hire you based on someone else’s endorsement, you are mistaken.”

You were at a loss for words to express your feelings. Relief, joy, and excitement all coursed through you simultaneously.

"I see something in you. They may have led you to believe otherwise, but whoever fed you that crap was blinded by their ignorance.”

"I... thank you, sir.”

Your parents overlooked your value despite your numerous attempts to prove yourself. How could he recognize it so effortlessly, just through that brief narrative of your life?

From everything Sanji had shared with you about the head chef, you had anticipated him to be somewhat difficult to engage with. In reality, he surpassed all your expectations, proving to be a man of depth and remarkable insight.

As Zeff rose, steadying himself on his foot and peg, you followed his lead. The walk to the dining room had an unreal quality, as if you were moving within a bubble, wrestling with something that verged on being a product of your imagination.

Yet, it was as real as it could possibly be.

Zeff offered one last piece of advice, pledging to formally introduce you to the staff by day's end. Mari, in response, immediately wrapped her arms around you, celebrating your success and assuring her old friend that he would never regret bringing you on board.

As the chef left to return to his responsibilities, Sanji reappeared, throwing inquisitive glances your way as Mari energetically shook your hands, her fingers entwined with yours. Part of you pondered if it would be best to keep it a secret until the last possible moment, but you could sense his curiosity gnawing at him.

Considering the fact that you had unexpectedly returned only to request a meeting with his boss, you couldn't really find fault with it.

With a single nod of her head, your friend granted you the honor of announcing the news, stepping aside and moving back to the table. You felt unready and unsure of his potential reaction. The thought of him being disappointed, possibly even losing interest in you, was creating a distressing knot in your stomach.

Regardless, there was no turning back for you, and you were committed to see it through to the end.

"Well, you see, starting from tomorrow, we're going to be coworkers.”

There it was, you had dropped the bombshell right in front of him. Your breath hitched again as you waited, watching his facial expression transform from confusion, to surprise, and then to quiet contemplation. After that initial moment of astonishment, his bright and loving smile re-emerged.

"Now I have an additional reason to fulfill my duty. Welcome to the Baratie, Y/N.”

Needless to say, the urge to hug him once more was irresistible. Your arms encircled his neck as you rose on your toes. It was a spontaneous act, carried out without much deliberation, fueled by your escalating emotions.

And your heart skipped a beat when he returned the gesture, tenderly supporting your back and soothingly caressing it with his hands.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 5 (coming soon) ->

#one piece liveaction #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #opla fanfiction

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thesoapgirl · 9 months

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teddy

I named him “Teddy” because it felt right and I think I was 7 or so and I wasn’t very original. If I could go back, I would give him a cute name like Honeydew or Maple, but no, I went with Teddy because he felt like the quintessential “teddy bear.” Just, brown. Brown bead eyes, and a brown bow at his neck. I liked him because he was simple and he felt right. He didn’t feel like all of the other cheap stuffed animals I had gotten so far in life. I loved the satin feel of his paws, through which, I could feel the small beads that gave his hands and feet more weight than other stuffed toys. He was balanced, evenly stuffed, proportioned just right, and perfect in my eyes. I can’t tell you what else I got that Christmas morning or who even gifted him to me, but I can perfectly remember unwrapping him and holding him up, my living room light a backdrop for what I believed to be the most perfect stuffed bear.

Later, I would tell people that I named him after the 26th president of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt, to make the naming seem more profound, like I had taken the time to actually think about the name. I wanted to show off my genius, how I knew the trivial fact of the origin of the name of “Teddy’s Bear.” When I was younger, I felt the need to prove myself, to show everyone how smart I was. But, really, I named him “Teddy” because that is what he looked like. He looked like the perfect teddy bear.

Later, I would come to terms with the fact that not everything has to be perfect or profound or extraordinarily significant, and naming a stuffed brown bear with brown eyes and a brown bow, “Teddy” is perfectly okay and fine. Not everything has to have meaning. Not everything has to be special and unique. He is just a stuffed brown bear that I named Teddy because I was young and I had object recognition.

He has followed me my entire life. He has lived in many different places; in my bed when I was young and found comfort in safe and warm things that I could hug and talk to. He’s lived in closets when I was old enough to be embarrassed of the things I loved, and in boxes when it was time to move. He spent a whole year in a classroom, near my teaching desk, and now he spends time on my bookshelf or my couch or my desk because sometimes I like to pick him up for a second and put him down somewhere else.

I have picked him up once again, just now, and I am looking at him more closely, 22 years later. He is still the perfect brown, although a little faded, with brown bead eyes, and a brown bow at his neck, the ends of which I have tucked into the main loop to hide the fact that I chewed on them when I was younger. It gives him a more sophisticated look; he has a bowtie now instead of a bow. We’ve both grown up. He seems lighter now, though, more fragile.

For some reason, the texture of his fur is different, it has spread in some places, and faded in others, and for some reason the fur around his face now covers most of his brown eyes, making them seem closed. He looks tired, and I empathize with that. Me too, Teddy. I sniff him, and he smells like all things that live in closets and corners and boxes in the dark do. The satin on his paws has started to wear away, the fabric is thinning out, and for the first time, I look at the tag on his bottom, half of which seems to have fallen off as time has passed.

Here is what I can tell you: the manufacturer is a company called KELLYTOY, located in Los Angeles. His stuffing is polyester and the little beads in his hands and feet are actually plastic pellets, and he was made in China. I can’t tell you what year he was made. I tried googling different combinations of “KELLYTOY” and “brown bear” and “2002,” but I didn’t find him, my Teddy, and that makes him feel more special somehow.

And, now, as I am holding him again, my chest tightens. We’ve both survived this long. He’s a little matted and faded, and well, so am I. I am looking at him again, and I am reminded of the magic I have always believed in. The magic that lives in between the letters of words. The magic that lives in the spaces between pages and kissing lips and deep breaths. The same magic that allows me to convince myself that this stuffed brown bear with brown eyes and a brown bowtie is proud of me. That he’s watched me this entire time, from the boxes and the shelves and couches and desks and he is glad that I am still here.

#tumblr writing workshop with betts #am i doing this right?#week 1: show & tell #show don't tell #thanks you made me cry

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fipindustries · 4 months

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At some point we started thinking that ambiguity was the cat's pajamas - or is it pyjamas? That's the type of rich, narrative gravy we're given. Is good even, like, possible man?!?!?!?! Is Maleficent, the Mistress of All Evil whose crow is essentially named Satan, just misunderstood? Does the lady who wants to kill all those dogs in 101 Dalmatians have some deeper, trauma-related reason for wanting to kill and wear all those dogs? Nuance can act as a proxy for sophistication, but it's not automatic. Explicit moral themes aren't automatically facile and nuance in presentation isn't necessarily profound.

Anyway, it's fiction. It's okay to pretend in fiction. I think that's a big part of it.

tycho brahe - penny arcade

#penny arcade

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metvmorqhoses · 6 months

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Nononono waitttt what do you mean about Good Omens season 2?? Why didn't you like it?

I personally thought it was better than season 1 - better paced. There wasn't a single boring moment. And sure, the plot maybe had fewer stakes, but seeing as this was a bridge season between season 1 (the of Good Omens book) and hopefully season 3 (the book that never came out, “668” or something like that), I thought it was good. Warm & fuzzy.

I need to know your opinion now

As abashed as I am to have to respond to such enthusiasm with, well... the very opposite of enthusiasm, please at least know that I consider the truth the best thing I have to offer in general and in regard to that unfortunate (yet somehow still-untouchable?) mess the second season of Good Omens has proven itself to be in particular, so accept it as some sort of well-intended even if perhaps unwanted gift.

This is probably the most unpopular opinion one can have on Tumblr right now, so I'll go straight to the point: Gaiman managed to ruin Good Omens (perhaps he isn't able to write it by himself, perhaps he got carried away with fan service, who knows), once one of the most delightful, witty, engaging, profound books/shows existent, changing its register and raison d'être in order to turn it into, per great popular request, the same lame simple plotless cheesy cookie-cutter gay romance without rime and reason apparently every single piece of media is deforming itself into lately.

The dramatic loss of... artistic quality this show suffered is appalling and even more appalling is the fact I seem to be one of the very few on this green earth to have even noticed? Did I perhaps read too much in the show before? I don't think so, it was indeed a masterpiece. I saw many die-hard fans of the series beyond puzzled at this last season too, straining themselves to try and make sense of it with wild theories, justifying them with the simple fact that Neil Gaiman is a genius and surely this hot mess must mean something, right? I wasn't aware the world was mostly populated by hysterically besotted people hailing Neil Gaiman's alleged greatness from dawn til dusk without contextualized merit, and the discovery didn't particularly excite me, to be quite honest. I think a healthy amount of fairness in the critique of any artist should always be the norm, but I digress.

I'll try to keep it as brief and matter-of-factly as possible, especially since some time has passed and the fumes of my rage aren't as scorching or as precise as they used to be lol

In a word, this season was subpar. Not only did it lack that original witty, ineffable meaningfulness, that intrinsic and very human sense of wonder and protectiveness towards life and its profound sense the original show brimmed with, but even from the most basic literary point of view, it literally lacked a plot worthy of this name, a story, characters that felt complex and real instead of caricatures who tried and reenact themselves, and in general what should have been, quite simply, good writing.

More than Good Omens' long-awaited season 2, this felt more like a high-budget filler fanfiction created by someone who didn't know what they were doing with story and characters most of the time, but who sure as hell wanted to please the audience to disastrous lengths.

The very first thing that irked me beyond belief, and it literally started from minute one, was the immediate, more or less subtle, change in acting from both Michael and David. Michael stressed it way more, with, in my opinion, quite tragic results, thing that from the start immediately allowed me to guess where they were going with their (already established as extremely complex) relationship, entirely turning the vibe from sophisticated allegory of Divine Comedy kind of love (love for your enemy, love for your friend, love in all its form and in its entirety) to banal romantic comedy-level gay drama, downgrading what Crowley and Aziraphale shared (the subtle abysses of it!) into the most boring and obvious of soap operas, obviously forcing them to act out of character in order to compensate (was any flash-back meaningful to their character or the story? Was there a writing reason behind any of them beyond writing for the sake of filling screen-time?).

Some relationships deserve to be left alone, alone in their subtlety and ambiguousness or you'll inevitably ruin them. Not everyone must kiss on screen, no matter how much the audience screams and throws up for it. This little woke drama completely ruined and eclipsed everything else those two characters were for each other, turning them from cosmic and devastatingly loyal best friends to petty and dumb lovers that need two plot devices (the messy pointless and quite frankly offensive representation-wise lesbians from across the street they literally met five minutes prior) to tell them they actually have feeling for each other and should share them. After literal millennia of this relationship, relationship that has its own inner workings and reasons, we needed the plot-lesbians to subvert the order of things and spur Crowley into action, obviously obtaining disastrous and lame results? Are we witnessing the interaction of immortal beings or five-year-olds? The only way I can genuinely make sense of this dumbness is considering those two female "characters" (that feel anything but real people) no more than that, characters, golems, put there by Metatron via the power of the Book of Life (again, so many Chekhov's guns with no use whatsoever in this season) in order to separate Az and Crowley using the only thing that could succeed in doing it - an ill placed declaration of love.

But even this doesn't match the true être of what Good Omens originally was nor comes full circle with the ineffable mystery season 1 ended with. It genuinely feels like Gaiman changed the whole rhyme and reason of the story, vibes, meaning, register, just to meet the modern needs of a category that is sadly phagocytizes everything else in both life and fiction. And I find it a true pity - and a bore.

And even leaving aside this personal boredom of mine at a non-existent plot that consisted in 1) a big mystery that promised cosmic repercussions (season 1 ended with the after-nonapocalyptic world that was slightly changed just because two enemies had loved each other and life too much not to oppose god's plan - fact that was probably god's plan all along), mystery that was actually no mystery at all (two random, from the original story's perspective, previous minor characters in literally ten supernatural minutes fell in love and run away together) and that meant virtually nothing in the grand scheme of things, but serving as a plot device so that the other two minor new characters could intrude into the protagonists' relationship so they could finally have the excuse to jump literary genre and kiss & queer tragedy the story away 2) an endless series of symbols, facts, episodes and characters that constantly seemed to hint at something but that in reality resulted in nothing story-wise (also, the change of heart in God's personality, first the witty and almighty trickster for the greater good, now the divine bully??), even leaving all this aside, I'm mostly disappointed the quality of the writing plummeted so inesorabily one of my comfort show turned into the symbol of an artistic era I'm utterly distraught to have to witness - the era of crowd-pleasers and un-imagination.

As for this being a filler season, writing in such an unresolved way (basic and predictable plot, colourless characters, cliché romance, hours of happenings that don't mean a thing in the current story) is unacceptable and a failure, even if you are a famous writer. You cannot waste hours of the audience's time going nowhere shielded by the sole future promise of sense. Writing doesn't work that way, and I'm sincerely appalled to see people noticing it and deciding to excuse it with a "surely next season everything will look genius!". It doesn't work this way. The faults were too many, they can't possibly be all resolved next season. This product wasn't great, even if your faves kissed and your little fanfictions came true.

The sad thing is, Good Omens used to be a work of art, not the next consumeristic piece of fiction to satisfy woke needs.

#I don't want to sound harsh but this was a true let down #one of the many this year #art is dead #good omens #sofoulandfairaday #asks/replies #one and one thousand stories lis told

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bambamramfan · 4 months

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Tycho from PA

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candycandycandysworld · 8 months

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Serendipity Part 1

A Diluc Ragnivindr x Reader Modern High School Au Oneshot

At Female of Birth Reader

Trigger warnings: None

In the vibrant hallways of Teyvat High School, where laughter and conversations intertwined, you found yourself in a situation that you couldn’t quite decipher. You’d been spending time with Diluc, the enigmatic and sophisticated senior who had caught your attention from day one. Your interactions were filled with shared smiles, deep conversations, and moments that seemed to linger in the air.

One afternoon, as the sun cast a warm glow over the courtyard, you found yourself sitting on a bench with Diluc. The two of you were engrossed in a conversation that meandered from trivial topics to profound musings. The ease with which you connected was undeniable, but something nagged at the back of your mind.

"So, are we like... a thing?" you asked hesitantly, your voice revealing the uncertainty that had been bothering you.

Diluc's gaze turned thoughtful, his deep crimson eyes meeting yours. "A 'thing'?" he repeated, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," you continued, feeling a touch of awkwardness. "I mean, we hang out a lot, and it's fun, but I don't know if we're, you know, official."

Diluc's smile grew warmer, and he reached out to gently take your hand. "I believe our connection goes beyond being a mere 'thing'," he said softly, his words carrying an intensity that made your heart flutter. "Destiny has a way of weaving its threads, and I believe ours have intertwined for a reason."

You blinked in surprise, your heart racing at his words. Destiny? It was a concept that felt both beautiful and intimidating, especially when spoken by someone as enigmatic as Diluc.

"I've always felt a deep connection with you," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "It's as if we were meant to cross paths, meant to share moments that go beyond the ordinary."

As he spoke, a mixture of emotions swirled within you—awe, disbelief, and a dawning realization. Could it be that what you thought was a casual fling held a deeper significance for Diluc?

Diluc's fingers tightened gently around yours, his touch comforting and reassuring. "I'm not asking for a label, if that's what worries you," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "But I want you to know that what we have is special. It's a connection that transcends the confines of a high school relationship."

Your heart swelled at his words, the uncertainty that had been plaguing you dissipating like mist in the morning sun. With a shy smile, you leaned closer to him, your fingers entwining with his.

"Maybe destiny brought us together," you admitted, feeling a newfound sense of clarity. "And I'm more than okay with that."

Diluc's smile was radiant, his crimson gaze filled with an intensity that seemed to reflect the stars themselves. "I believe in destiny," he said, his voice a gentle affirmation. "And I believe in us."

As the sun continued to cast its golden embrace, you sat side by side with Diluc, your hands intertwined and your hearts aligned. In the realm of high school, where emotions ran deep and connections blossomed like the most delicate of flowers, your journey had taken a turn, guided by the threads of destiny that bound you to one another.

#diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #diluc fluff #diluc fanfic

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shvdowspirit · 9 months

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Introducing Peter Baek . . . Pitch Black from Rise of the Guardians

GENERAL

full name: peter baek. true name redacted.

aliases: pitch black, the boogeyman, the nightmare king.

nicknames: just don't call him 'pete'.

age: immortal / appears forty-three.

gender: cis male.

species: spirit.

orientation: pansexual, demiromantic.

date of birth: ??? he tells people it's november first.

place of birth: ??? the void.

occupation: behavioral therapist.

PHYSIQUE

faceclaim: gong yoo.

eye color: dark brown, gold when performing stronger magic.

hair color: black.

height: 6'4"

ABILITIES

fear manipulation: click to learn more.

nightmare manipulation: click to learn more.

shadow + darkness manipulation: click to learn more.

FAMILY

significant other(s): auralia pitchiner † (wife).

children: emily jane pitchiner (daughter).

MUSE INSPIRATION

aleksander morozova / the darkling — shadow and bone.

morpheus / dream of the endless — the sandman.

sebastian michaelis — kuroshitsuji.

yunsu park — olgami.

silco — arcane.

dracula — castlevania.

CHARACTERIZATION

This isn't someone you hope to run into, and certainly not someone you should get to know. Peter loves nothing more than drawing out and manipulating the parts of a person they're most desperate to keep hidden away. He's a creep first and foremost, but has mastered the art of masking his sinister tendencies. Still, there's something distinctly off about him that most subconsciously pick up on. They never quite seem to figure out what it is, however. He's one of Evermore's lucky few (or unlucky, if ignorance truly is bliss) who retained his memories from before arriving in the town, though unlike most others he's not chomping at the bit to leave. Evermore is an intriguing change of pace and chock-full of people on edge. All they need is a little push to begin spiralling.

HEADCANONS

In his previous home (before Evermore) you'll find a vast collection of artifacts that span back centuries. From Medieval brooches to Renaissance boxwood carvings to Victorian hair shrines. Any museum would leap at the chance to get their hands on any number of the artifacts he's amassed.

Dresses sharp and dark. His entire wardrobe is made up almost entirely of black and various shades of gray, occasionally accented with white or gold. Everything is perfectly tailored and has an air of sophistication to it (think dark academia, but a little less cozy).

For all his faults, Peter doesn't often go back on his word or outright lie. He might twist the truth a bit, but he keeps to his promises and has better methods of manipulating someone than lying.

Peter is not a fan of modern technology/not very tech-savvy. As with all immortal beings, he changes with the times, but that doesn't mean he likes said changes. He prefers physical copies of files, has no interest in social media, enjoys the sound of a record over a digital speaker, etc. Think of him as a grumpy old man in this regard.

Greatly enjoys coffee, despite the caffeine not doing much of anything for him. He likes things that taste a little bitter, like dark chocolate or red wine. Anything too sweet feels like his mouth is being coated in sugar.

There are two things that have bothered Peter for quite some time. The first of which is that he has no idea of where he came from. He has no real reason to believe he had a life before the day he opened his eyes to darkness and crawled out of the shadows, but there are traces of something that leave him wondering. Whispers too faint to understand that linger in the back of his mind. The second — a profound loneliness that he cannot rid himself of. A feeling that something is missing.

Hates most holidays (or any type of celebration really), but loves Halloween. The influx of horror films, everyone going around trying to scare each other, all the monstrous decorations, what's not to enjoy? Though he's not a fan of how it's become more treat than trick in the 21st century.

Peter has an interesting voice. For one, he has a British accent he picked a very long time ago and decided to keep. Secondly, when he speaks it doesn't always sound like it's coming out of his mouth. His lips will be moving, but if you closed your eyes you might be tricked into thinking he'd moved behind you. As if there are speakers all around your head or you're listening to him bounce between earbuds. It's something he sometimes does to freak people out a bit, though it can also happen without him quite realizing it.

#intro

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1016anon · 1 year

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Title: Four Tulips Author: 1016anon Fandom: Bridgerton Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma, Thomas Dorset/Kate Sharma Summary: Anthony is a strategic mastermind.

A/N - Not proofread. Yes, this will have a Home Evacuation Alert, don't worry. It's fluffy. Anthony's just being an idiot, as usual.

-2-

It was the plan to end all plans.

Anthony congratulated himself on his tactical genius. He even devised a clever name: Operation Doorstop.

Let the record show that Anthony had, over the years, made a sincere effort to befriend Kate. It was not his fault that she had rejected each and every olive branch.

He had realized sophomore year of high school that it was juvenile for him and Kate to be sworn rivals. They were no longer freshmen, wide-eyed and innocent of the ways of the larger world. They were sophisticated, jaded citizens in possession of driver's permits which allowed them to operate two ton machinery capable of going 120 miles per hour carrying four to seven life forms. Surely they were mature enough to let bygones be bygones and agree that Anthony was the better debater.

Alas, it was not to be. For whatever reason, Kate took exception to this and a rivalry which had been confined to debate team (and any class they shared where debate was possible) soon spread like mushroom spores to every part of their lives. And unlike a ring of toadstools, it was not a magical experience.

Now nearing the end of his junior year, it was imperative (for reasons of university applications, but mostly pride) that he become captain of the debate team. Why they could not be co-captains was obvious: in any contest between Kate and Anthony, there had to be a winner. There was none of the wishy-washy "everyone is a winner" bullshit. Besides, high school was preparing them to be Adults In The Real World, where one did not become co-president, or share gold medals at the podium.

Someone always had to be at the top.

In other words, Anthony had to beat Kate. But they were deadlocked in an arms race, too evenly matched. Anthony somehow had to gain an edge; and what better way to gain such an edge by using psychological warfare and spy games to divert Kate's attention?

This was the lesson Anthony took away from the Cold War. (Proving he had missed the entire point of that particular history lesson, but moving on.)

Anthony had no choice. He had to use the nuclear option. The circumstances were dire enough to justify the decision.

Adults knew that teenagers were soggy croutons in the French onion soup of gonads and prefrontal cortex development.

But teenagers--

Teenagers thought they were noodles in the broth of love.

Anthony, as a wise, worldly junior in high school who used aftershave and owned more than two suits, understood the finer points of teenage psychology. The best distraction-- the way to victory and becoming captain of the debate team and putting it officially on his college applications-- was to get Kate a boyfriend.

She wasn't going to suddenly change extracurricular activities. They had practically all the same classes; she wouldn't have a sudden influx of homework. No-- the way to reduce the amount of time Kate had to prepare for the debate which would determine the course of Anthony's future by demonstrating to college admissions officers that he was a well rounded student with proven leadership skills (and hopefully led their team to victory next year) was to distract her with a boyfriend.

And as it happened, Anthony had, over the profound eternity of five teenage years, gathered all kinds of useless trivia about Kate that could only be gotten between sworn rivals.

Did anyone else care about which three questions Kate got wrong on the biology final their freshman year? No. But Anthony cared knew and remembered.

Did anyone else know by how many seconds Kate beat the school record at 100 meter hurdles? Yes, and his name was Simon, but he didn't count.

Did anyone else understand why Kate had a My Little Pony keychain? Fine, a few people, but did they know why it was Fluttershy? (It was an inside joke with her stepmom, Mary.)

All of this useless trivia, however, turned out to have a very good use. It was all valuable intelligence; these key details allowed Anthony to create an astoundingly good profile of the unsub named Kate Sharma. (No, he did not consider himself to be Hotch-- just because they had dark hair and Anthony had delusions of being in charge of everything didn't mean they were similar, Ben. Anthony fancied himself more of a Reid, i.e. a genius.)

Over the years, the unsub had demonstrated a preference for dark haired individuals-- male, female, trans, and non-binary-- who had a "sense of humor." (Anthony scoffed; everyone thought they had a "sense of humor," and everyone thought they wanted to date a person with a "sense of humor." Colin had an excellent sense of humor. Colin also had less sense than natural selection gave to a guppy.)

Back to the matter at hand, the unsub Kate Sharma's relationships did not last for more than a month, fizzling out for reasons unknown. (Siena refrained from pointing out to Kate that it was because she spent every single day after school with Anthony. At debate club.) She remained on friendly terms with all her exes and did not like getting coffee for a first date.

How did Anthony know this? Because they'd been working late and needed coffee. They went to the local coffee shop full of chintzy fat sofas and plaid wingback chairs (what garage sale from hell they came from, Anthony did not want to know); Kate complained that her dates always brought her here. She grumbled that the shop served mediocre masala chai and was covered in grad school students wearing noise cancelling headphones working studiously on their laptops watching Maru stuffing his adorable head into yet another box.

Anthony took exception to this. There was nothing wrong with watching Maru stuff his head into yet another box. Kate conceded that cats in boxes were cute, but there was nothing better than watching a row of guinea pigs waiting patiently in line for dinner and bouncing off with a carrot three times the size of their body.

The unsub Kate did not like to watch videos of corgis, despite having a corgi named Newton at home. So named because an apple had fallen on his head as a puppy; that day, Newton took a solemn vow to destroy all apples and its derivatives. He'd gone crazy when Edwina brought home apple blossom lotion, barking at Edwina with a look of determination on his face, as though was going to rescue her from the body-snatching apples.

Consequently, the unsub Kate loved apple pie a la mode simply because she could not have it at home. She admitted that she probably wouldn't care much for it otherwise, but if she ordered apple pie for dessert, Appa had to also let her drink a whole cup of coffee to cover the smell. Given that the first time she had apple pie was when she was eight, Anthony felt this explained a lot about her.

No, she did not drink coffee at eight years of age. At eight years of age, she got a second dessert if she ordered apple pie.

"So what you're saying is that you don't actually like apple pie, you like all the benefits that come with it."

"Mm hmm," she agreed, crumbs of pie crust on her lips. "So, what are you going to buy me?"

"What? Nothing! Get something for yourself!"

"You were the one who offered by buy dessert. Now you have to face the consequences."

"Newton can herd sheep for all I care, I'm not getting you anything else."

"Worth a try," she shrugged. "Are you going to have the rest of that?"

"Stay away from my cheesecake, Sharma. I'm warning you."

Right, so the point was that Anthony weaponized all this knowledge for Operation Doorstop.

First, he chose a suitable target.

Siena: "You want me to date my best friend. So that you can be captain of the debate team."

"No," (yes), "I just think you'd be good together."

Anthony made the mistake of opening his spiral bound three-subject notebook.

"Let me see that--"

"Wait, Siena, don't--"

"Oh my god-- is this a list?"

"It's not what it looks like--"

"Candidates must be: tolerable, dutiful, suitable enough lips for French kissing, and at least half a brain, preferably with a sense of humor. You have a suggested list of first dates?!"

"Give that back to me," he snatched it out of her hands.

"Ant, what the hell?"

"She has a type," he grumbled.

"You are insane. Why can't you be co-captains?"

"Because!"

"Oh my god, that's exactly what Kate said too."

"Wait, you've talked about debate team with Kate?"

"Nope, no, I'm not getting in the middle of this. This is between the two of you."

"So... is that a no?"

Siena just stared at him like he was an imbecile and walked away.

"Right," Anthony crossed her name off the list.

Operation Doorstop had come to something of a standstill.

He arranged interview with all the potential candidates and they fell short.

One didn't know about the Peloponnesian War; another didn't understand the sociological and economic importance of shifting fiscal responsibility of the household to women. Another couldn't name the composer of a classical harp piece; still another didn't know that the Rite of Spring was a dance, not the soundtrack to the animated dinosaur battle in Disney's Fantasia.

Anthony almost considered giving up on Operation Doorstop-- he was devoting too much time and energy to it and not enough time to arguing with Kate.

Then: a miracle.

Thomas Dorset.

Dorset was the answer to all of Anthony's problems. Once Kate and Dorset started dating, she wouldn't have time to prepare for the all important debate which would determine who became team captain. Anthony's plan wasn't malicious-- she would have a consolation prize, after all. Dorset was a good guy. He checked all the boxes. Anthony wondered why he hadn't thought of Dorset in the first place.

Now all he had to do was set them up on a date and he'd be captain of the debate team.

Win, win, win, for all parties involved.

"What do you think of Tom?"

"Tom?" she frowned. "Tom who?"

"Dorset."

"We're friends. I had world history with him last year, why?"

"Nothing, no reason."

Kate narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him.

"Did he say something?"

"Who?" Anthony asked.

"Tom."

"No. I just wondered if you knew him."

"You asked me what I think of him, not whether I knew him," she replied. "I don't think he'll do well on the debate team."

"Why do you say that?"

"I mean, he's smart and knows what he's talking about, but he doesn't really enjoy confrontation. He rarely participated in debates last year in history."

"But you think he's smart."

"Yes? What is this really about, Anthony."

"Nothing. I just wondered," he paused. "Would you date him?"

Kate looked like she had no idea how to answer that question.

Anthony shrugged.

"You think he's smart, I mean. He sounds like your type."

"Why are we talking about my dating life? Wait-- do you keep track of my dating life?"

"Of course I don't. It's just been a while since you told me about one of your conquests--"

"They're not conquests, I've told you a million times--"

"And the dance is coming up--"

"That's in two months."

"Hazards of growing up with Daph."

"Oh, I meant to ask," Kate grinned sweetly, never a good sign. "Has Simon asked her out yet?"

"WHAT?!"

"Daphne and Simon. It's obvious to everyone they like each other."

"She's a freshman! He's a junior!"

"He's a good guy."

"She's my little sister!"

"So? He's your best friend."

"Exactly!"

"I can't believe you," Kate rolled her eyes. "You'd better not warn him off her."

"He's known her since she was nine!"

"They're sweet. Anthony, there's no harm in it--"

"Oh, and I suppose you'd be fine with Eddie dating me."

Kate made a face.

"That's different-- you and I aren't friends."

Something in Anthony's heart fell when she said that. It must have shown on his face because she hurriedly said,

"I meant-- we're rivals. Frenemies."

Anthony smiled wryly.

"And frenemies don't let younger siblings date frenemies."

"Yes," she nodded emphatically. "See? You get me."

"I don't think I do."

Then, Anthony had a brilliant idea.

"I won't say a word about Simon and Daph--"

"Good"

"If you go on a date with Tom."

"What? Why would I-- I don't even like him like that!"

"You're asking me to do something uncomfortable, I only think it's fair I ask the same."

"Did he put you up to this?"

"No."

"Are you and Ben betting on me again?"

"I have never bet on you in anything. It's your friends-- Siena, Gen, and Marina."

"As though George and Desmond aren't the same. And your brothers."

"This is not a bet. I promise you."

"Then what is, Anthony?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "He's looks at you sometimes."

"You look at me. You stare at me."

"Frenemies," he smiled.

"Ugh. So if I say yes, you promise you won't make a big deal about Simon and Daph."

"I give you my word."

"Ugh."

"And you won't have to listen to Eddie complain about Daph interrupting her time with El."

"Don't remind me," Kate shuddered. "I'm scarred for life."

"You're scarred? How do you think I feel?"

"I'm fairly certain El didn't subject you to a play by play description of--"

"I can't hear you," Anthony said, covering his ears.

She flipped him off.

"So?" he asked.

"So what?"

"You know."

"Fine. One date. But he's never going to ask me."

"Whatever you do, don't take her to the corner coffee shop, she hates it there."

"Okay," Dorset looked at him, amused.

"And if she asks for a second dessert after apple pie, always get it for her. And she will order apple pie, I guarantee you."

"Ant, are you sure you don't want to date her?"

"What? Me? Of course not," Anthony said, as though the very notion was ridiculous. "She hates me. We're rivals. Frenemies."

"I don't think spending every afternoon in each other's company is considered hatred."

"It's because we're arguing," he said, dismissive. "She like tulips, but I guess they're out of season."

"Look, Ant, Kate and I are good friends and I like her, but I don't think she returns the feeling."

"She hasn't had a chance to get to you know you."

"Because... she spends all her time with you."

"Look, just ask her. She might say yes."

"I'd rather not have my ego crushed."

"Jack was stupid. And he's not her type."

Dorset's eyebrows, which were already quite high, seemed to be making a bid for an Olympic record.

"You and Kate have a lot in common, I promise you. She goes to India very other summer to visit her family."

"What do you get out of all this?"

"Pardon?"

"You're trying to set me up with your frenemy, Ant, so I wondered what you get out of all this."

"Oh. Well, I can't be nice once in a while?"

Tom laughed.

"Does it matter what I get out of it? You'll be happy, she'll be happy, I'll be happy. We'll all be happy, the reason doesn't really matter."

"I think the reason you'll be happy will matter a lot," Tom shook his head, smiling. "But this is clearly about Kate and she's more than capable of handling you."

"Your vote of confidence is much appreciated."

"If things go wrong, I'm placing the blame firmly on you."

"Absolutely."

"And you're certain you don't want to date her?"

"One hundred percent."

"All right. What have I got to lose?"

"See? You get me."

"So."

"So what?"

"You're smiling. I see my plan is working."

"He told me you coached him on everything."

"I wanted to give him a fighting chance. So? It went well?"

Kate blushed.

"He's very sweet."

"I don't want to know details."

"I was going to give you any," she rolled her eyes. "We're going on a second date next weekend."

"I told you, he's your type."

"You're going to hold this over my head for the rest of time, aren't you."

"When I'm right, I'm right."

"Yes, and when you're wrong, you're so terribly wrong."

"See, Kate, I know you."

She looked at him a little strangely.

"I suppose you do."

"And, I know I'm going to crush your arguments at practice tomorrow."

"You wish."

"Then what're waiting for? Give me your best shot."

"Hey, Kate."

"Oh--" Kate turned to see Anthony leaning against the locker. "Hi, Anthony."

"You're the only person who says my full name."

"Am I?"

"You've never called me Ant."

"I never noticed," she shrugged, putting her books in her bag.

"Practice?"

"Not today. Tom and I are, um, going to see a movie."

Anthony didn't understand why his heart felt like it was slowly, slowly rolling down a hill.

"Told you I was right."

Kate made a face.

"You were, so go away and bug someone else."

"Kate," Tom came up to them. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. I was just telling this one to stop being so smug."

Tom laughed.

"I don't think that's possible. It's part of his charm."

"I'm standing right here, thanks."

"Oh, is that you, Ant? Didn't see you there," Tom joked.

"Ant!" Simon called.

"Looks like I've gotta run. Have fun on your date!"

Tom opted for the genial, "Thanks, we will," while Kate just told him, "Have fun at practice."

Anthony saluted and walked to Simon.

"They look surprisingly good together," Simon remarked.

Kate chose that moment to give Tom a peck on the cheek, which made the other boy turn red. Anthony watched her tease him, her smile wide and clear.

"Yeah," Anthony replied. "Yeah they do."

Operation Doorstop: Successful.

Anthony: Strategic Mastermind.

Onward to victory.

#bridgerton #kathony #korset #fanfiction #hs au

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