#like.....the theory is giving me BRAINROT IDEAS

[justhereforthemeta]

Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight

Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)

This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!

On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.

@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.

Continued below the cut...

Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.

Shax: “You’re in trouble”

A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.

And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.

There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.

1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).

Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:

Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:

And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.

There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 

Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.

Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.

For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.

So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.

Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.

But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.

Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 

Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 

And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.

In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.

My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:

is actually this:

Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 

whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:

…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:

That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 

Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 

Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).

Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.

Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 

Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.

‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 

I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.

(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)

When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.

From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.

This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.

In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.

Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 

“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”

[somehow-a-human]

GOOD OMENS SEASON 3 - Speculations/Predictions

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

The GO brainrot is well underway, we’re only 7 months out of season 2 and I dont know how I will cope until season 3! But I have been ravenously consuming all of your lovely meta, fanfiction, and fanart and I have finally decided to add my messy ball of thought yarn to this hellsite!

Warning: this is going to be long and wild, I have no real life people to talk to about Good Omens, and I really need an outlet to gush about these ineffable idiots.

SO! Shall we begin?

S3E1 will open with the great war/the fall. The opening of the previous seasons have been Crowley and Aziraphales earliest meetings, it makes sense season 3 will mirror this. I’m hoping we will get more context of their relationship; had they become closer after S2E1’s ‘before the beginning’ ? Will we see them going to war, will Aziraphale come face to face with Angel!Crowley on the battlefield? Will Aziraphale search for him among the fallen?

Somethings up… with memory. The way I look at it, season 2 was meant to bridge the storyline gap between armageddon and the second coming. It’s there to set us up for another world ending plot and also to give us context for season 3. I think the introduction of the idea that memories can just be manipulated willy-nilly by the big boss, and Gabriels little vacation as Jim serve exactly to show us that this happens. It says: look heaven does this! they were just casually going to do it to the Supreme Archangel, no questions asked. Crowleys memory, in this regard, has been a topic of debate. I think the biggest clue that he indeed has suffered some sort of memory loss is when he’s talking to Jimbriel who says he feels like “an empty house”. Crowley later finishes Jimbriels thought with “I know, looking at where the furniture isn’t.” I think he is downright kind to Jim in the bookshop and chummy with him because they have some sort of kinship, maybe from when they were angels, but more probably because Crowley feels it through the loss of Gabriels memories. Maybe he understands and relates in a way to what he is going through. His not remembering Saraquael or Furfur could just be chalked up to Crowley being an asshole sometimes. I think Crowley has definitely worked on recovering his memory some if this is the case. He remembers Aziraphale though from their time as angels so what specifically might he have forgotten?

Crowley will be a Duke of Hell/Grand Duke of Hell. Not only was Crowley offered the position by Beelzebub, but the blocking in that scene, where Crowley leans across the dual thrones to be in the very center seems to be foreshadowing it. I’ve seen multiple people make this prediction and it makes the most sense to me. What is Crowley gonna do on earth wallow and mope around the bookshop? Look he’s a disaster puppy yes but he’s also in love with the new Supreme Archangel. In the final moments of S2 he is sad, but he also looks determined. He’s angry, but I don’t think he’s angry with Aziraphale. And if there’s one way to keep an eye on Aziraphale and all this second coming nonsense, being a high ranking member of hell seems like a good idea to me.

Is Maggie more than human? Nah I dont think so. Look Maggies got a lot of weird stuff going on sure but I think her most important role in S2 was to be Crowleys mirror (and deliver the gut punch “you never say what you’re really thinking” but we are skipping that). Forget the masonic and biblical imagery associated with her, maybe all the mis-spelling in her note was showing us was that the bubbly blonde is tied to the demon instead of the angel like you might immediately assume? Sure Nina is edgy and closed off, but she’s the one in a toxic relationship, and she doesn’t realize how Maggie feels about her, not until an awning full of water (1941 nazi bomb) is dropped on her head. Maggie is patient and supportive of Nina. She ‘saves the day’ by grabbing her an array of milks from the mini mart in Ep6, and most importantly she says she will wait for Nina. When Crowley goes to get in the bentley after Aziraphale leaves for heaven, he looks first at Nina. She gives him a little ‘goodbye’ wave, then he turns to look at Maggie, she’s asleep at the register, waiting. I don’t think Crowley is angry with Aziraphale, he would’ve driven off if he was. Instead he stands there watching, telling him he’ll be waiting.

1941 Pt. 3 minisode. Okay everybody wants this I know. What happened to the zombies? They definitely listed to ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square’ that night right? We know Aziraphale does the apology dance, presumably for 1. nearly getting Crowley shot by nazis, 2. blown up by a bomb, 3. caught “fraternizing” by hell, and 4. nearly making Crowley discorporate him himself with the bullet catch. Maybe they put on some music, and maybe they dance a bit together before Aziraphale remembers himself and says “angels don’t dance” or something to end it. In the Jane Austen ball scene when Aziraphale asks Crowley to dance, barring the subtitles are correct, Crowley replies with “you don’t dance?” not “WE don’t dance”. I think that’s an important distinction, that could point back to this night.

Book of life & Book of Love. Another thing S2 set up as cannon for S3 was the Book of Life. I have no clue what this could mean but I immediately thought of the Doctor Who episode “The Big Bang”. At the end of the episode, The Doctor doesn’t exist because wibbly wobbly timey wimey… stuff. But Amy realizes something isn’t right, that someone is missing. She ends up bringing The Doctor back through her memories, simply because ‘something loved cannot be truly forgotten’. What does this have to do with GO? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Just where my head is at, and I could see someone being erased from the book of life (one of our ineffable idiots for example) being undone in a similar vein. Love is the strongest force in existence, stronger than anything angels, demons, or God themself could understand.

Crowley will make a whale. Well, okay maybe that’s too literal of a statement? To be fair God never says to make a whale, Job says that's what he thinks she means. But look, he’s going to get to talk to God right? I think of the questions God asked Job. Did you set the constellations in the sky? Crowley did, S2E1 we watched him do it. Do you know the rules of the heavens? Crowley does, we even see him explain (gr)mavity to Jimbriel. Can you send lightning and get it to report back? Crowley can, we saw it after he got in his little argument with Aziraphale. Did you teach the ostrich to run? Maybe? Is this an allegory for telling Gabriel to go to Alpha Centauri? Or the peacocks to fly? Beez? Miss Sandwich? look its God okay not everything is going to be straightforward. Anyway, I think it’s clear our demon will get to ask his questions, he might not get answers, but he will get to ask the questions.

It begins as it will end, with a garden. Not the garden of Eden this time, but perhaps a garden at a cottage in The South Downs. Or.. maybe the Garden of Eden. If you've not read the short story "In The End" by Mr Neil Gaiman himself, please do, it's only a page long and it's lovely. I bought an extra copy of Fragile Things just so I could cut it out and glue it in the last page of my copy of Good Omens. Anyway, it's a brief but beautiful imagining of the last book of The Bible, in which God gives the Garden of Eden to humanity. I love the idea that human souls might return to Eden after their time on Earth. I also (and I know I'm in the vast minority) love the idea of Crowley and Aziraphale choosing to somehow embrace mortality to fully enjoy life on Earth with each other, and therefore themselves being able to return to the Garden of Eden with each other someday.

WELL! Did anyone actually read this? If you did, you’re insane just like me and I love you for it! Please let me know your ideas!

[astridthevalkyrie]

Do you have any favorite Jumin x MC fics? I keep re-reading yours bc it’s so damn good

omg thank you!! that fic was in my wips for months i'm so happy people like all my self indulgent jumin fantasies lol

here are some i like on ao3 (and pre mha brainrot i read so many fucking jumin fics on ao3 it's insane):

cherry wine - really soft, really sweet, and realistic. i love rika but i cannot imagine being the new girl that everyone treats like her replacement.

I Can Give You Heaven - takes place on jumin's birthday and god oh my god i can't speak this fic is so good. perfect mixture of fluff and smut and ridiculously soft jumin.

Welcome Home, Master - yeah you know what this is based on the title LMFAO but anyways if you're one of the people into the jumin petplay thing this fic is for you. delicious 👏🏽 fuckin 👏🏽 smut

Sweeter Than The Finest - another really good smut fic featuring office sex. this author also has a couple other fantastic jumin fics, including yet another birthday sex one that i've read an unhealthy amount (i like the idea of spoiling him for his birthday??? sue me???)

Jumin's Call - jumin listens in on you and zen and it's the hottest thing ever and simulataneously the angstiest thing ever.

Purple Hearts and Tear Drops - LOVE this fic. ugh. i have a particular weakness for jumin x mc in v's route with all the angst potential and this fic delivers and goes above and beyond delivering

Unattainable - kinda retelling of jumin's route but with the twist that jumin is already married to sarah. very very good pining and buildup and it makes me tingly. also gives some much needed nuance to sarah and villainizes her a little less.

After End and Temporal Love - so this is probably my favorite mysme fanfic it's the best i've seen that utilizes the reset theory. equal parts seven/mc and jumin/mc (although the second part is just jumin/mc drabbles that take place in the universe) and just. good. good dialogue, good humor, good character stuff. jumin in this is just. sighhhhh. husband material <3 as always <3

[rubra-wav]

I’m a bit hesitant to ask this because I’ve never requested spicy stuff anywhere but do you think Vox can change out his biology like other parts of himself? Could he choose to have a vag instead of a dick?

I may or may not have been thinking about pegging him when this idea popped up for me

NSFW / 18+ only obv

OH I LOVE THIS ASK SM BC IT HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY BRAINROT PILE I HAVE NOT SHARED WITH THE WORLD YET.

Anon, YES. YES I DO THINK HE CAN.

Though, he probably would not ever do that unless you are REALLY close and he's significantly recovered from his bs.

In theory I wanna say yeah he probably could, but if he could would he? Probably not.

BUT

I've talked about this in other posts, but Vox gives me hella internalised toxic masculinity stench (not towards others, just to himself mostly at this point) so he would most likely never do something that's so emasculating.

He would be so so embarrassed the whole time.

If we talk you somehow get him to deconstruct that enough for him to feel comfortable enough to do that and allow you to touch him while like that... (*thrashing trying not to go feral*)

Like he'd be probably really trying not to freak out even though he was interested in it enough to choose go through with it - he would still be glitching probably from the second you're seeing him like that.

If you treat him right and real well while he's like that... he would most likely be mortified by the sounds you managed to pull from him with that. (The thought of him trying to suppress his enjoyment and just failing miserably and letting out stuttering whines and stuff.... AAA)

Yeah I will probably end up doing a proper post on this at some point bc HFHFHFHFHF, but for now, have my probably barely coherent brainrot

Would probably end up bluescreening by the time he's finishing because like - not only would the pleasure of being screwed with a vag (strap or actual dick) be completely different then what he's used to, his internal bs would probably still be there yelling at him over it.

When I say it would take a LOT of work for this to ever be a possibility too tho I don't say that lightly. Like bro would be so hesitant to ever let this happen

[ashen-sky]

The Penacony brainrot is so real, here are some thoughts:

this place is Alice in Wonderland meets Las Vegas, like I always got Vegas vibes (and a bit of early micky mouse honestly) but actually playing the story gave such Alice in Wonderland vibes. The meme? The Jabberwocky. Misha? That boy gives such white rabbit vibes. Is Black Swan the Cheshire cat? Now that i think about it, ya.

Sunday, the bird man, he may be surrounded in holy imagery but ohhhh boy are the thoughts he gives me anything but holy (this is a half joke, but i seriously can't wait to see more of him)

I DON'T THINK FIREFLY AND ROBIN ARE DEAD! There, I said it finally. This theory has been eating at me. The meme has an attack that puts your characters in a "dead" state that allows revival, and the exact same animation for that attack plays during Firefly's death. Also it doesn't make sense to kill a character before running their banner, so I think those girls are coming back.

Sam. I like Sam. And Aventurine. Aventurine's design reminds me a lot of Luka from the company that shall not be named. Honestly all of the Penacony characters bring something I adore in characters, that glitzy overconfidence of a gambler who knows his stuff, that twisted salvation, ect.

Also, I don't think people really sleep in Penacony, none of the guest rooms have beds. I think maybe Penacony natives might have a real bed, because the idea that their options are dream world or napping in weird spots seems odd, but they might not. (It did give me a fun idea for a fanfic of a character that forces themselves to nap outside of the dreamscape because they suffer from chronic nightmares and don't want to become dependent on the dreamscape)

I have two thought on Sampo, the first is what the hell was that dream and why do those damn trash cans hit so hard.

Next, everyone was sure he was a masked fool, and lo and behold they were right. However, I would like to turn your attention to Black Swan's character quest. Firstly, something is coming to Jarilo VI, something so big it is cause SAMPO to take action. Sampo, who is known for skirting AROUND conflict, is putting himself in someone else's hands (someone he explicitly states he isn't too fond of) to take action. I don't doubt he'll stay behind the scenes, he isn't the kind of person to work in the spotlight, but whatever is coming has concerned him enough to ACT. This isn't a testament to how he feels about the planet, this is a testament to the oncoming danger. EDIT TO ADD- the reason i don't say this is a testament to how much Sampo cares about the people of Jarilo VI is because of how much he trusts them to handle themselves. He cares about them yes, but by taking action he's saying he doesn't think they can handle whatever's coming on their own even with the recent reconnection with the IPC and working to recover their old technology.

All this is to say WHEN IS THE NEXT UPDATE, please, god, feed me story.

[bitethehnd]

omg i’ve had the biggest brainrot over ur naomi & taylor!reader & rewatching the eras tour i have 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ thoughts

i can imagine reader! having a chat w naomi when they’re ready to make it official and actually tell everyone they’re together (god knows everyone’s figured it out but shh let them have their moment) & reader! asks if they can make it official during the show but doesn’t tell Naomi how,, they’re just like trust me it’ll be good and naomi is like ok !! anything for u !! & during karma reader! sings “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” & they somehow get naomi’s live reaction on the big screen megatron thing of reader fully making it official to everyone mid show and they’re just in AWE

& in the same show when reader! sings “you’re in love” they do a lil speech about how this song was written for someone else completely and after everything that went down, they hated this songs because it brought back so many bad memories (or something) but now they have someone who makes them feel like this song is the reason for existence again and it just cuts to lil naomi sobbing aAAA i truly love that fic so much i still have so many thoughts about it thank u thank u thank u

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ you are in love

pairing : naomi mcpherson x popstar!reader

a/n : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN KISS KISS

at this point during your eras tour, the two of you are already together. you think you’re all sneaky but literally everyone knows… naomi looks at you like you gave them the moon so it’s quite obvious, but everyone lets you two have your fun!

the first people you told were obviously katie and jo. they both had fake surprised looks on their faces but said the two of you deserved to be happy. then ensue the countless jokes and comments from jo.

the boys were thrilled too! since phoebe had also opened for you, she had taken a guess that you two had a thing for each other and then her suspicions were confirmed. julien fist pumped naomi and lucy gave you a big hug!! you guys are adorable fr.

next came telling the world about the relationship. you two held off for a few months, wanting privacy, but it seemed twitter was already aware of it. everyone had their theories and some were so outrageous that you just wanted to tell everyone yourself.

you told naomi your feelings on the matter and they immediately agreed, no questions asked. they were ready to show you off and not have to hide. you suggested doing it during your next show, and like anon said, naomi is just like “whatever my princess wants, she gets!!! anything for her!!”

you quickly put your plan into motion. you decided your surprise song for the next show would be “you are in love” from 1989. it perfectly described how you felt about naomi. you came up with some ideas for the speech you would give before hand and it went something like this…

“the next song that i’m going to play is one that i haven’t performed in so long. i wrote it about someone who i thought was going to be my forever, but it just didn’t end up that way and it left me with some sad memories. i have never felt the need to play this song since then, but now everything has changed. even if i originally wrote this about someone else, my partner renewed it into something so pure and now has a reason to exist again. i love you.”

the camera doesn’t pan to naomi just yet, since you wanted to build suspense. for dramatic effect, of course. but jo and katie make sure to get their reaction on video. it’s just naomi basically happy crying and laughing with tears under their eyes. even when you guys are a whole stadium apart, the invisible string between you is there.

when it was finally time for the last era of songs, from midnights, you were planning to do a lyric swap in “karma.” the actual lyric was “karma is my girlfriend,” but obviously naomi was not a girl and the song originally wasn’t written about them, you planned to change it to something that made you happier. when the time came to sing “karma,” you looked right into the vip section where naomi was and sang “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” cut to the camera panning to naomi and they’re just giddy, laughing and crying all at the same time. when you told them you were going to make it official, this is definitely not how they imagined it, but they weren’t complaining.

you just wanted to show the world your love for them and honestly didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. the two of you just existed in your own little bubble, feeling like you were just singing to them.

after the show was over and naomi practically sprinted backstage, their beaming smile lit up the room as they saw you. they pulled you in for a fierce hug and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead.

“that was the sweetest thing in the entire world, baby. i love you so much.”

“so you liked it? it wasn’t too much?”

“never. that was, like, magical. can’t believe you did all that for me.”

“i’d do anything for you, nom.”

© bitethehnd

[roxannepolice]

So I was thinking of the answer for one of the ask games (which is coming!) but soon realised my reflections are both too long and slightly too salty to include in a fun ask, so here we are.

Because yeah what is below is hands down my favourite Delgado!Master quote, and one of my favourites from any regenerations. Hell, it may be one of my favourites in the entire show.

Gifs by cleowho and I'm sorry I ended up including them this way but I gave up trying to find the exact moment via gif searcher when my phone started smelling of burnt plastic.

So why do I love this so much and why should this result in saltiness? Because this is a very clear statement: there's actual philosophical outlook on the universe behind the Master's villainy. A deeply nietzschean one, but ironically enough underlying much of contemporary critical theories, usually of the progressive vibe. The Master apparently sees power relations as the inherent, fundamental aspect of all sentient relations, and acts accordingly, doing onto others before they do onto them (And that [a self-defence in advance] is how the Master started). And I don't even see it as a neurotic reaction to direct abuse! No, this is something much more intellectual, frozen and abstract. The salt lies therein that there is nothing "just..." to the outlook the Master presents here. Those aren't daddy issues, or the drums (which I love and think can be reconciled with classic Who canon with a bit of timey wimey cause and effect grandfather paradox shenanigans, but fundamentally don't see as the source of Master's villainy, unless they are a metaphor of permanent unsatisfaction and indeed neurotic need for more which is on the one hand awfully difficult for one and everyone around them but on the other perhaps underlie everything you are and you don't know what you'd be without it but you actually like at least a bit of what you are and this is very narcissistic and yes I have OCD), or getaway of insanity, there is no cheap psychologizing, no never heard the music, no Doctor complex that just needs to be talked through, only actual outlook presumably built on decades if not centuries of experience. That is not to say those psychological elements aren't essential to the Master's choices, just that there is no simple obstacle to overcome, no freudian complex to solve for them to see the light. This is something much more conscious.

And I can't express how fitting it is that this nietzscheanism should be the "dark twin" of the Doctor's philosophy of fixing everything they can - in its extreme taking on the form of prometheanism. Frankly, probably the reason Thoschei gives me such a brainrot is the idea of two people with very similar backgrounds (compare and contrast with Professor X and Magneto's backgrounds) arriving at universal outlooks that are at the same time so morally opposing yet in a way fundamentally similar. Because is not overcoming all possible pains of the universe an expression of will?

And the best part? The Doctor does not refute the Master's philosophy! He rejects it morally, but does not point to any single fallacy, does not overthrow it intellectually! And then...

... And then there's the reason I see Tensimm as Goethe's Faust to Threegado Marlowe's (that is not in terms of one being superior or sth only one being a logical development and discussion with the other). At a first glance, Ten is simply repeating what Three said all those episodes ago. But there's more, and there's no way I'm risking my phone again, so a quote will have to suffice.

To have the privilege of seeing the whole of time and space. That's ownership enough.

Ownership. As in having discretion to dispose of something as pleased? As in a very simple power relation?

Like. Wow. This here is indeed a Prometheus whose desire to make people better and literal knowledge of all possible pasts and futures pushed him to call some people more important than others and superimpose his will and knowledge of good and evil disregarding anyone else's choices. This here is indeed the Time Lord Victorious. And yes, knowing when to stop was much easier when there was an external shadow to judge.

The thing is, the Doctor here concedes to the Master's outlook on the universe. Indeed, power relations are unavoidable in sentient life. This is a moment of deep understanding between them because the Doctor now knows what it feels like to wield all that knowledge and perceive no powers saying no. Except, regardless of what poststructuralism might say, there is a fundamental moral difference between power imbalance of seeing vs being seen and y'know, forcing people to build you statues and conquering all other civivlizations and humiliating them in the process. As such, the difference becomes much harder to delineate, forcing one to always reflect instead of following a set of simple guidelines.

The question is, would it still be remembered if the walking counterpoint ceased to exist not physically but intellectually and morally?

[archonsabyss]

HELLOOO I AM BACK HEHEHEHEH (@aishasreality) and i am back with another brainrot.

i haven’t finished rafayels myth or any other characters myths but i saw a lot of other ppls theories and stuff explaining them, idk how accurate my theory is so just bear with me. IF YOU DONT WANT TO BE POSSIBLY SPOILED ITS OKAY TO NOT READ MY ASK FURTHER🩷

i heard that rafayel was an assassin out to kill mc (shes a princess or heir of the throne) and lemuria is her opposing kingdom, lemuria needs something from her to revive their civilization back to its glory days (it was her heart or something i forgot) so they sent rafayel (the god of the sea, or just a normal assassin im not sure) to kill her but he ended up falling for her. i heard many other things after that but im not sure which one is canon. SO MY THOUGHT IS THAT yk its like a romeo juliette situation and ik my man be going through it when hes wavering. its either his homeland or his love, hes so torn on the choice he had to make, he has multiple failed assasination attempts bcs he wavered when he sees how geniune mc loves him and multiple thoughts of treason. in the myths i think mc discovered his intentions and willingly gives her heart but rafayel ended up erasing her memory of him and committing treason to lemuria.

but WHAT IF before he erased her memory mc made the decision for him and killed herself with his blade when he was hesitating AHHH THE ANGST THE DRAMATICS I LIVE FOR IT this would make a GREAT ANGST FIC something along the lines of “this choice hurts you either way, so im making the decision for you”

BONUS IF RAFAYEL BECAME BERSERK AFTER HEHEH tyrant of some sort bcs yes he gave lemuria honor and became king but at what cost….

(idk how much of this is canon and theory tbh)

₊⊹ I just want you to know everything you say is I'm literally noting them down! Ur mind is hella creative and all these ideas whether Canon or Fanon is fic worthy! You're giving me whole new perspectives, I barely have time to fully invest in l&ds story / lore but everything you say makes so much sense! Also that's the thing about fanfiction, it doesn't necessarily have to be Canon. Somehow putting 2 and 2 together between what you've mentioned and what little I know so far, my eyes are drooling lmao. like I'm so so interested and pumped to get this on the road whtvr it is.

My brain may just explode with the amount of excitement and eagerness I'm feeling with every ask you send.

I live love laugh for the dramatics and the angst 😈 I cannot express it enough, but they evoke such intense emotions within me I seem insane to most people because I cry ugly at angst and throw tantrums at fluff. but nothing makes me react more than a good angst. I go on character Ai just to experience angstrom heartbreaks, toxic relationship, morally grey scenarios , and yandere behavior! I'm literally insane but it's so fun. I love crying I know it's weird but I just do😌

Also that last bit about RAFAYEL GOING BERSERK. IT'S WHAT I NEED, EVERYTHING AND MORE.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies! Related to our posts from yesterday + a couple of JadeSil ones from a while ago.

Anonymous asked:

I guess Sebek will be annoyed on waking up in the morning with Silver only to realized animals are around.

lol yeah, imagine falling asleep with Silver and waking up to that one scene from Bambi where all the animals greet the new prince. Things Sebek has to get used to….

hipsterteller asked:

Welp at least they didn’t find a skeleton

You mean… under the birdies?! Spooky..!

Anonymous asked:

Poor Jamil can't catch a break even at clubs.. (he secretly loves it, don't tell anyone lol he's shy)

- basketball poly asker

(this is related to a reply from yesterday)

Yeeeah, it’s probably better for Jamil when he gets pestered by these boys: this way he gets to have some action but also don’t proactively seek it out lol But of course the thought itself would never occur to Jamil! It’s all his subconscious mind.

Anonymous asked:

Hehe...imagine Azul seeing Jamil and Ace together. Another jealously alert. Even better, Jamil, Ace, and Floyd together.

Azul would get jealous with anyone who gets close to Jamil probably lol So with Ace it would be the same scenario as it is with Ruggie: he’s confused about Jamil’s choice and tries to win him over.

And with Floyd, well, Azul would just have to shut up and be patient and hope that Floyd gets bored of Jamil… because if he tells Floyd to stop, Floyd is just going to cling to Jamil even more :(

Anonymous asked:

Hi! I’m that JadeSil shipper from that one ask, is it okay if you can give some hcs on how would Silver’s first time would go if it was with Jade?

+

Anonymous asked:

I have Jade/Sil brainrot after seeing some other people talk about it…(and totally not because I am dirty minded)

What if one day Silver was eating Mushroom Risotto but it had a “special” mushroom (courtesy of Jade)  which had an aphrodisiac-like effect. Silver eventually asks Jade for help on why he feels so weird…and you can imagine how the rest goes

Sorry it took me so long to reply, Anon! Or are you two different Anons..? In any case, I’m sorry for taking so much time and for not giving a satisfying answer: since these two aren’t a ship we’re very invested in, even though we like it in theory, I won’t come up with any headcanons, but I’ll share my thoughts…. Because when I started to think about their first time, the setup I came up with was pretty much the same as what was mentioned in this second ask lol

Since the main theme/motif of their relationship that I always think about is mushrooms, I think the whole thing will start with Jade’s fascination with Silver’s appetite for mushrooms and his appreciation of them. And for a very long time, he would simply feed him without adding anything suspicious to it, but then he’ll notice just how good Silver is at describing the differences between different kinds of mushrooms Jade uses for the risotto. So of course he’s going to be tempted to feed him a “special mushroom”…

Poor Silver would be so conflicted. He never expected to get poisoned, and Jade seems deeply concerned as well… but is he really?  And would Jade really make such a mistake?

So yeah, long story short, Silver’s instinct would probably be to try to get back to his room and hide there until he gets better, but the poison is too strong, and with all his actions and words being just a big blur, he’ll end up having sex with Jade.

Jade is going to be surprised y Silver though, because while he knows that a lot of what’s going on is due to aphrodisiac (that was the whole idea), some of the things just seemed way too “natural”: Silver’s body is clearly used to having intense and lengthy sex, his movements are very intentional and he even has some noticeable preferences. Silver wouldn’t say a word during their first time (he just couldn’t articulate – he was too aroused), but his body language spoke volumes. Jade would probably be quite intrigued by him…

(whoops I guess I wrote it in a way that it isn't Silver's first time, I just noticed that...sorry!!)

[glass--beach]

i've seen you mention metamodernism on here a few times (and in that fucking mario video?) and as someone with a massive amount of brainrot over the idea of "what comes after postmodernism", i was wondering what your thoughts on metamodernism are. what does it mean to you? what do you think characterizes it? do you accept timotheus vermeulen and robin van den akker's description of it whole cloth? do you have opinions on any other proposed ideas of postpostmodernity like new sincerity?

to me metamodernism is the simultaneous acceptance of both a modernist and postmodernist worldview. to recognize that there are no real “big ideas” at the core of our existence but to still believe in one. there is an inherent embrace of contradiction in metamodernism that seems to be the only way to make sense of such a fractured world. also - to both mean something sincerely and ironically: this kind of mentality is all over the internet. the “jk jk …unless” the “/hj” and on the darker side, the modern fascist movement that is both fascist as a joke to own the libs and actually fascist. i see this term “metamodernism” fundamentally as a diagnosis of the world that we already live in. postmodernism is definitely over but it’s hard to fully understand these things while they’re happening.

i definitely would say i personally believe in both modern and postmodern ideas. i believe in “big ideas” where useful - i would consider myself a marxist if i’m anything ending in -ist, because for a political project having a vision for the world to rally behind is useful. i’ve also found a lot of utility in postmodern critical theory for deconstructing the complex ways power exerts itself in the modern day. i’m also quite a spiritual person though not in any dogmatic religious way, i just find a lot of value in seeing truth in things i know not to be “true” in a rational sense.

new sincerity - i think new sincerity is perhaps less a diagnosis of the world and more a goal to aspire to and i would say i see the value in it. metamodern art at its best is sincerity expressed through irony, or at least catered to a culture with a default ironic posture. sincerity is good. irony is a useful tool but we can so easily lose ourselves in it. but if you wanna hear about that go listen to a david foster wallace interview he’s better at explaining it then me. i also think a lot of ideas credited to metamodernism are just existentialist ideas - “nothing in life really matters and that’s ok, all we have is each other” that’s pretty much how i feel as well.

this is getting very heady and i would probably need a phd in philosophy or something to really make a coherent point here but let me just say, through my own experience i have found again and again that love is the thing that keeps me together and the more i give and receive it the happier i am… my worldview is firmly centered around the belief in love for each other, whatever isms may come and go…

[toomuchracket]

ok idk what universe or how the circumstances lead to this. but im having dad matty brainrot. maybe girlie is busy and matty has to watch the kids but hes meant to be getting a new tattoo (maybe hes supposed to go with the guys, which is why he cant cancel). but he has to bring the kiddos with him and while hes getting tattooed another artist or maybe even one of the guys doodles on kiddis arm so they can match their dad :(

fuck it, og dad!matty universe! it's the last couple of weeks of the summer holidays and you're mildly concerned about the fact your husband is planning on taking your 6 year old and 8 year old with him and the boys while they get new tattoos (maybe to celebrate an album anniversary or some shit), but when george comes to pick them up he reassures you like "it's fine! it's a nice day, we'll go into the shop one at a time, whoever's not in can just be at the park down the road with dyl and lena". a good idea in theory, and it works for a little bit while matty's playing football with his babies and giving them piggybacks and whatnot; when it's matty's turn to go in and get his tattoo, though, elena's (who's been a bit more shy and reserved lately - you think she might be a bit nervous to go back to school) little lip starts to wobble like she's going to cry, and she clings to his leg and will not let go even when adam's like "el! we'll go and get ice cream, yeah? your dad won't be long, you know that". matty has to crouch to her level like "i'll be twenty minutes, munchkin. four bluey episodes long. that's all! my big, brave girl, you'll be alright without me for that long, won't you?", and she shakes her little curly head quite vehemently - when the sniffles begin, matty just hugs her into him and softly shushes her like "alright, darling, you can come in with me. but you have to sit nice next to me, yeah? no running around in case you get hurt". so then obv dylan wants to come in, too, not because she's also upset but because she's curious about the tattoos "cos you and mum both have them but i don't know how you get them" lol; she drags ross in too, because that's bestie, and he sits with a kid on each knee and patiently explains to them what's going on while their dad gets another tattoo. the tattoo artists are really sweet - the guy doing matty's is like "oh! it's nice to finally meet the two of you, it was me who did the tattoos your mummy and daddy got when you were both born" (a.n. i have no idea what these look like actually), which impresses them a lot. but he doesn't impress them nearly as much as the other girl, who they say looks like a tattooed isabela madrigal (she laughs really hard at this and calls them adorable) and who lets them look through the sample book; they both pick out the ones they'll get when they're big enough (matty shakes his head at this, but he and ross giggle. how could they not?), and the girl gives them a couple of little temporary tattoo strips to "take home and get mum to help you put on. i think i would save them for parties, though" (matty thinks this is a genius suggestion, because he knows full well his daughters would have begged for them to be put on immediately otherwise lol). the doodling happens between dylan and elena themselves, i think - one of them gets hold of a pen and says "let me draw on you so you can match daddy?", and her sister is like "YEAH and then i can do it on you", while matty's half crying at how cute they are and half stressing about taking them home covered in pen lol. but yeah, the girls are good as gold, so good that their dad can't not treat them to an ice cream AND a tango ice blast to share afterwards, followed by another run around in the park to tire them out before it's time to go home and then pick up mummy from work. a lovely day <3

[naffeclipse]

Sorry I haven't been commenting on the Apex Polarity chapters, there's been a lot going on recently and hhh,, sorry,,

I'm just gonna go over a few overall things~

Ok, starting with the setting. You've captured the arctic setting SO WELL! I don't understand how you do it but it's all just so easy to visualize when you write it. From the white arctic ice to the small research base and to the dark cold ocean, it's all so well written! I also just love this type of setting. I'm currently a little obsessed with arctic environments and especially arctic research bases. (The Thing has me in a death grip pfpgjdjf) I'm having a very good time hehe~~

You venture into places and explore environments I haven't seen anyone in this fandom write about yet. (maybe I live under a rock and there are more fics that explore settings like this, sorry if I've missed those) What I want to say is I'm so impressed that you can tap into all these different environments and transport us there so effectively! Lovely stuff!!

Michael and Vanessa are holding big secrets, gosh, especially Michael! I want to know what he knows, and what he might be hiding~

I really like those two in this story btw! Y/N needs some good people around to bring them down to reality after their meetings with Eclipse, and so far Michael and Vanessa are doing a great job.

I gotta say, the oatmeal with cinnamon brings so much warmth to my heart. Where I live it's a common food, especially during the winter months. Next time I have some it'll be really hard to not think about this fic. X3

Ok! Now the guy we all are obsessed with! Eclipse!!!

I'm falling so hard for this orca that by this point the impact will be fatal. He's so scary, off-putting and littered with red flags, still I want to cuddle him!? How do you even write a character like that!? How is he turning into a softie!?!?

Every interaction with him gives us something new, it's always so exciting when he shows up! And of course you're taking advantage of all his animal/monster features, one of my favorite things about your writing. You're using his teeth, his claws, his orca body and giving him those animalistic behaviours that just makes him SO FUN TO READ!! He's a creature and I LOVE IT! >:3

So in the recent chapters with the rock, the nap and that little ice block ride, oh my goodness he's sweet! How are you making him sweet while still keeping his forceful behavior!? I'm really wondering if he'll ever stop with the manhandling, will he be transformed at the end of all this, and where will this story even go!! I have my theories, but I feel like they could all be wrong X3

Before I end I'd like to just ask one thing about Eclipse!

How is his relationship with actual orcas? Are they mingling or does he hunt them? Or are the orca families too strong for him and they bully him out of territories and hunting grounds? Or do they just ignore each other?

(Feel free to ignore this question if it will lead to spoilers :p)

I'm VERY excited to see how this story continues, it's been such an enjoyable ride so far! Thank you for blessing us with your writing! ♥️♥️♥️

Meep, I am rattling you so hard right now, you have no idea!!!

Thank you so much! I've really thrown myself into descriptions for this fic as I want to capture the essence of the feeling of a place as intense and wonderful as the Arctic so your comment makes me so so happy!

Ah, Y/N really does need good people!! Vanessa and Michael have got stuff going on :)

Aw, that's super sweet ;-;

AH YES THE GUY HIMSELF!!! I'm really glad you enjoy him, I enjoy him too, writing and in the brainrot alsjdfals but we'll find out more about him as we continue on this icy little journey hehe

I would love to answer this question but I think it might be a spoiler, so I'll just ask that you keep it in your back pocket for later!!!

Thank you so much, Meep!!! I'm excited too and I'm so glad you like it!!

[neoyi]

For the ask game: 002 about Mr hat maybe? Is a character that intrigues me a lot alongside phantom striker but I'm brainrotting on the mad hatter

 | Give me a character & I will tell you

How I feel about this character: Okay, so I didn't think too much about Mr. Hat for most of Treasure Trove. I figured he was just a rich loon who really, really, reaaaaaaaaaally love hats. And then King of Cards reintroduced him as this absolute menace of maddening audacity that I hesitate to even consider him a mere human (or animal person, or some any kind of mortal, etc etc.) Like you meet him in the mountains where his shop lies. The mountains, which I remind you, is soaked with a sense of mystery and magic the likes that we mere mortals cannot possibly answer. The same mountain range where Plague's minions found... whatever the fuck Oolong is.

Occam's Razor detect the shop is there because he is so completely out of tune to normal human interaction that he has no idea that the average person is not going to climb a damn mountain to get to his haberdashery.

The more out-there theory: Mr. Hat is of fae origins. I can't claim this theory as some SK fans have since taken it upon themselves to use as their personal headcanon prior to me stumbling upon that idea. But I've taken a large shine to it and now consider it an adopted headcanon, too. Like, he's just so inhumanely unnatural.

Mr. Hat is bizarrely obsessive in his quest, has zero boundaries or knowledge of proper societal interaction, and extraordinarily strong that he can literally lug his store like his personal backpack. Of course the easiest explanation is that this is just for the Rule of Funny (and that's likely YCG's canonical reasoning behind the mad hatter), but I love the implication that Mr. Hat is a fairy who is trying to fit in with man, but is shy a crayon or two or three or half the pack, to convincingly pull it off. And now you get stories ruminating in your head, wondering why he thinks these mortals are so fascinating (answer: the fae is too predictable for him, mortals are Shiny and New.)

Along with his highly expensive prices, it's no surprise the kind of people he can attract the most are out-of-touch nobles and rich bastards who have no concept of reality either. I love how Mr. Hat evokes the image of a rich man, but his coat looks drabby and dull-colored, a severe contrast to the colorful palettes of actual noble attires. It's as if he's imitating them, but can't quite pull that off either.

Basically, the more alien and mysterious Mr. Hat is, the better. And I hope the games never, ever, EVER explain what his deal is other than... hats. He simply exists to be questioned and never answered.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: I don't, actually. I don't know, maybe he and Meeber had a thing before even she, a fairy, thought he was too bizarre even coming from a fairy. But I can't picture anything romantic or sexual coming from this guy. I hear he's married his entire hat shop. Yes, his hat shop is his wife. That's my headcanon now.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I've actually taken a liking to the Wandering Travelers grouping up and protecting the Valley for a while, and the complicated, often funny relationship that forms from it. Not quite a found family, but more like an RPG party that's heroic enough to get the job done, but not without foibles with possible trails of unintended destruction they leave in their wake. Phantom Striker would be the leader, wise and experienced, if not too straitlaced for his own good; Baz is the childish manchild who nonetheless Is Trying To Do His Best; Reize is an up-and-coming hero who looks up to his older friends for training and advice... ...Mr. Hat just barged in and hung around as the wild card. I guess he helped. The group putting up with his antics is partially Reize thinking he should be given a chance (much, much frequently than Striker would have allowed) and partially Mr. Hat pulling unexpected trump cards here and there that effectively saves the day, convincing the group to keep him for another day, even if they have no damn clue what the hell this fucker is going to pull next.

My unpopular opinion about this character: *shrugs* I don't think I have one.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: See above: Just never, ever explain WHAT he is. Dude might be a regular man with bizarre means. He might be an immortal trickster God. I don't know, I don't care. Never explain who he is: Mr. Hat simply wants hats, that's all we need from him. (I act like YCG would threaten to do otherwise, but he's always just been a funny little NPC and probably will just stay that way, free of any background lore.)

my OTP: See second question.

my cross over ship: N/A

a headcanon fact: I've incorporated Mr. Hat in my Specter Knight of the 10,000 Year Future, being one of the OG characters from Shovel Knight to still exist in the future. I'm not sure if I plan to add anything more to this guy other than he's still around being a fucking jester to everyone, but I like the idea that out of all the characters that have been alive since the events of the canon games, he's the one who has changed the least. He is still Mr. Hat. Only... the population of the world has dwindled severely, so there's not as many hats around and the ones he can find intact are rare. It's gotta be a bit sad for Mr. Hat.

KING SHIT.

⭐(Ask Me for my Hot Takes on fictional characters! https://neoyi.tumblr.com/post/739152893490364416/estelanel-001-send-me-a-ship-and-i-will-tell) ⭐

[starsreminisce]

I don't typically delve into many theories, and when I do, I usually keep them to myself because, honestly, I have that much faith in the author to craft the story much better than I can. However, Elucien has pretty much become my brainrot, so here we are with theories and fanfics!

Below is my HoFAS Bingo Card!

While I hadn't initially considered rereading ToG, I'm starting to feel like maybe I should at least read ToD and KoA. If I find the time for it, I suppose.

Anyway, today marks the beginning of my ACOTAR and CC reread! I'm having trouble deciding whether to place ACOSAF after ACOWAR or between the two CC books. After HOEAB for that breather and give that illusion of time passing but it's so short ...

I love how, as a collective, we all subscribe to the "no body, no death" rule for Cormac haha.

Lord, help me understand the whole First Light Second Light concept because that just flew over my head when I first read it. Bryce's power also just flew over my head.

Also, going to be looking for some things pertaining to Lucien (duh), Elriel (because apparently, if I dig deep and really look for it, it's there), Multiverse ideas, etc.

I've got my Notion Board for my annotated notes all set up. I've requested Thursday and Friday off since my book will hopefully deliver that Wednesday. Hopefully, I get to pick up on more things!

[growup-thatbeautiful]

hellooo, hi, im not sick anymore (more or less) and in surprisingly great spirits! i was thinking, if you wanted to write more Zeffirelli and absolutely and i mean ABSOLUTELY no pressure maybe we could have some sort of university themed kinda fic? not an AU just kind of widening the lens of The French dispatch to see Zeffirelli as a students not just his after school activities. im thinking like a philosophy student poet boyfriend x art and film theory painter reader kinda situation. studying and going to interesting lectures and to cinema in the evenings..idk it would be lovely to have some nice uni vibes to motivate me. also if you don't feel Zeffirelli now Timothee himself would be very much okay too i feel like. it is all up to you. sending you great energy, love you, message me if you want to brainstorm this story or want to talk literally about anything xx

omg hiiii!!! it’s fall now!! zeffirelli would be living his best life. i was really missing zeffirelli and timmy. timothee always renters my brain this time of year so be prepared. it’s movie szn brainrot time, my friends.

coincidentally enough, this happens to be my 700th follower celebration as well! yay!

uhhh so usually i write the translations at the bottom but i didn’t keep up this time i’m so sorry 😭😭

zeffirelli masterlist

ensoleillement (sunshine)

“You’re late,” you say, looking at the clock in the corner of your living room.

“I brought compensation.” Zeffirelli holds up a brown paper bag from the pastry shop down the street as an apology. “There's a pain au chocolat in there for you. I also got you a coffee.”

“I hope it’s not in the bag,” you respond drily, but take the bag nonetheless and rifle around for your breakfast. “Where’s the coffee?”

“Here,” he says absently, placing it on the kitchen counter.

“Dieu merci,” you sigh, taking a sip and shouldering your bag. The leather strap digs into your shoulder through the fabric of your coat.

“Thank me, not God,” Zeffirelli complains, ushering you out the door.

“You’re still the reason I’m late.” There’s a warning in your voice, but you can’t put any real venom behind your words. You never can, with him.

“Oui, but you’re not going to any important classes right now.”

“I’m going to math,” you protest. He reaches across you and takes your coffee, sipping it and grimacing. You slap his hand away and retake the coffee. “No matter how much you try, you aren’t going to like the way I have my coffee.”

“That’s because you have terrible taste,” he complains. “Why are still taking those bullshit classes? There are so many better classes to take.” It’s a conversation you’ve had many times, mostly out of jest, but there is some seriousness behind it.

“You mean math?”

Zeffirelli hums. “That’s the one. Why would you waste your time with math when you could be going to philosophy at noon?”

“Because I’m not some poet revolutionary, Zef,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder with his. “Not everyone is as successful as you.”

“Nonsense. You just haven’t shared any of your ideas with other people. Come on, amor, let me know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Right now there are a few things, but I don’t think you want to hear them,” you deadpan, gathering your books in your arms.

“Don’t get shy on me now, ensoleillement.” The endearment falls easily from his lips, his favorite term for you, meaning, quite literally, sunshine.

Ironically, you got the nickname on a rainy day when you had been giving him a hard time about his tendency to walk in the rain.

“I have nothing to say to you,” you reply, knocking your shoulder against his as you both try to go out the same door to the street below your apartment.

“All that math is filling your brain with nonsense,” he complains, his shoes scraping against the worn hardwoods. “I can’t have a good philosophical conversation with a mathematician.”

“Just because I’m taking the class doesn’t make me good at it,” you correct absentmindedly. He huffs and steps into pace beside you, his hand brushing against yours. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet, warm red and orange bleeding past as you make your way to class, the air crisp and the sun slinking behind the clouds. You really should be trying to make it to class on time, but you know you’ll regret it if you leave Zeffirelli out here alone with that rosy color on his cheeks from the cool air. Fall suits him well, and he wears the chill running through your fingers well.

It’s better to be here, your hands skimming against his, knuckles red and electric when he touches them than it is to be sitting in a class. Especially because he isn’t in the class.

The walk to your school isn’t much further. Just through the town sits a two-storied brick building where you’ve devoted hours to studying, crying, and trying to get Zeffirelli to take breaks unsuccessfully.

The cobblestones underneath your feet are consistently unsteady, and you find yourself, as usual, looking in awe at the quaint town that wakes up as you walk through.

There’s the flower shop on the corner with the green and white striped awning that gives out free roses on holidays. Next to it, stands a stationary store where you go more days than not to get a hand-pressed piece of paper to write home on. Across the street is a cafè where you and Zeffirelli have spent countless sleepless nights discussing movies and poetry when you should be studying,

This isn’t your hometown, and it isn’t his either, but you both know it more than you ever could know any other place on Earth. Zeffirelli’s American rouge, prophetic attitude couldn’t come from a town this small, but that doesn’t stop it from thriving. Here, nothing can stop him. Not living with his parents, which he does on purpose, or not knowing how to start a manifesto. Those things are trivial and unimportant because this place reveres every waking and sleeping moment it has with him. You and

You, well, you can’t claim this place as your home, but you’ve fallen in love with its poetically simple lifestyle. The two years you’ve been here as an exchange student has been the best you can remember, and you aren’t sure how much of that is related to the boy next to you.

A gut instinct tells you that he might have something to do with it, but you would be drawn into the charm of this town anyway, probably. He’s just an added bonus.

Zeffirelli takes the cup of coffee out of your hand and tosses it into the trashcan before you enter the towering, gray stone building that is your school.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” he asks, walking backward down the opposite hall that you’re traveling. “My mom packed cookies.”

A laugh bubbles from your throat and you can tell you’re grinning like a fool. You genuinely don’t know if he’s joking or not, but you don’t doubt the truth of his words. “I can’t even make fun of you because your mom’s cookies are so good.”

“That’s the sweet spot.” His arms are outstretched wildly as he turns back to go to his class. “I’ll see you later, amor. Don’t have too much fun in math without me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Zef.” There’s still a grin on your face when you walk into class, and you take your seat next to your’s and Zeffirelli’s friend, Mitch Mitch.

Mitch is radically passionate like Zeffirelli, but, as obvious by his presence in a math class, he’s less utterly devoted to the revolution. Which is to say that he’s still deeply invested.

“Did l'auteur make you late again?” Mitch reaches over you and slides today’s work to you. “I swear, you need to stop waiting for him in the mornings.”

“He did indeed.” You lean back in your chair and try to listen to the lecture, and you think you retain about half of the information.

The teacher at the front of the room drones on for half an hour about something you don’t understand, not that you care enough to pay attention. Despite the nature of his ideas, Zefrilli is correct about the fact that math isn’t your thing, nor is it going to help you at all. Especially not when you don’t have a clue what’s going on. Based on the look on Mitch’s face, he understands even less than you do, which is comforting and terrifying at the same time.

“Why did you convince me to take this class?” Mitch groans, flopping onto the desk and banging his head on the wood. “I’m too pretty for math.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with it.” You pat him on the shoulder consolingly and gather your things together.

“Peut être pas, but it makes me feel better about myself.” You walk side-by-side to the next class. You have film studies with Zefirelli and Mitch has some economic class.

Zefirelli is waiting by the door for you, and, when he sees you, he pushes himself off the frame and asks, “How was the waste of time?”

“It was a waste of time,” Mitch confirms, bumping shoulders with Zefirelli, who looks at you for confirmation, which you readily give.

“Let’s do something worthwhile then, mon chéri.” Zefirelli holds out his arm for you, and you take it easily. “To the magical world of film we go.”

“Onwards we go.”

*

Lunch doesn’t come soon enough, but, slowly, it comes. Mitch, Zefirelli, and you usually eat together, but today Mitch is going to the cafe down the street with a girl in your class named Layla. She’s sweet, and you hope she’s enough for Mitch.

You and Zefirelli find your normal spot in the corner of a courtyard hidden away in the twisted cobblestone streets. It’s nothing special, just a park bench pretty much, but you wouldn’t eat anywhere else. Not when Zefirelli is sitting close to you.

“What are you writing about?” he asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and read the words in your journal.

“How much I hate math,” you deflect, shutting the small spiral and stuffing it into your backpack.

“That’s not what looks like when you write about something as trivial as math. I’ve seen your math face, and it is much more détestable.”

“You’re telling me that you don’t write enthusiastically about math?” you joke, hoping to deflect the attention.

“Only about my manifesto.”

“Yeah, well you have your manifesto, and I have my movie.” It slips out easily like things usually do around him. You’re so used to telling him everything, so it comes as no school that you’re unable to keep this from him.

The thing is, he isn’t supposed to know about the movie you’re writing. Not because he wouldn't support it, which you’re sure he would, but because there’s no doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it. You try to backtrack. “I mean, I have the movie that I’m studying for class-“

“-You’re writing a movie?” he interrupts, his hand frozen where it’s reaching for his food. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not writing a movie,” you attempt. “It was a slip of the tongue. Fourchement de langue.”

“No it wasn’t,” he denies easily. “You’re writing a movie.” This time he doesn’t ask, but he does return to his previous action, splitting the pink-colored cookie in half. He offers one half to you and you take it. You decide not to respond and focus on the cookie instead.

“So, what is this secretive movie about? Hopefully something dashingly bohemian and revolutionary.” You know he’s tuning down his excitement for you, which is nice. At least he’s trying. Hopefully, he knows that you would never keep something like this from him if you weren’t embarrassed.

“Those are your interests, not mine,” you sigh, despite the deception behind your words. Truly, you do care about those things, maybe only because he cares so much about them.

“Yeah? Then why do you work with me on my manifesto so much?” he prods, a grin on his face. Everything about him screams “got you” and you have no choice but to accept his meaning.

“Maybe I like being around you, connasse.”

“That could not possibly be it,” he dismisses easily. His cookie gets placed on the floor beside him and he leans into you, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re much too talented to be hanging around me all the time.”

“You can’t be serious,” you chastise, your hand running through his hair. “Zef, you’re the most talented person I know. Not only are you some sort of chess wizard, but you also have such a passion for life that I don’t see anyone else. I’m lucky to be around you as much as I am, honestly.”

“You’re just saying that,” he sighs, but there’s a blush rising to his cheeks that fits him so beautifully.

“We’re poets, Zefirell, we only say things that we mean.” He leans heavier into your side and you relax against him, taking his weight happily. The rest of the world passes by, and time passes by, but you don’t care. This is where you want to be, by his side.

You would lift the sky for him, but right now all he needs is a shoulder to lean on. It’s something you’re ready and willing to give.

“You know,” Zefirelli starts, “there are stories about people like us. You know, people that want to change the world. Usually, they have someone by their side, a second-in-command. Napoleon had Josephine, Pierre Curry had Marrie, Sintra had Garder.”

“I think it be more reasonable to say that Marrie had Pierre, given that she was the one who did most of the research. And you’re forgetting that Sinatra and Gardner broke up after 12 years.”

“But she was the only woman he ever loved. Come on, amore, you know that. Anyway, what I was trying to say-” he looks up at you, smiling softly- “before I was so rudely interrupted, is that most people have someone beside them when they start their journey sur le chemin de la révolution. The road to revolution can be lonely.”

“Everything must start in love,” you agree. “Nothing comes out of nothing.”

“Précisément. Would- would you like to be my second-in-command? We have a long way ahead of us, and I think it would be easier if we stuck together.”

“How am I supposed to say no to that?” you breathe, laying your head on top of his and reaching for his hand. “Promise you won’t leave me for someone more antagonistic?”

“You’re enough of an antagonist for me,” he responds in an overly-sweet voice. “Not sure I could handle much more.”

“Good. I prefer you waking me up in the middle of the night rather than anyone else.” You also prefer his head on your shoulder, his hand in your hand, and his figure in your bed, but those are things you keep to yourself for now.

You’ve already got enough of a win for today.

*

A banging on your door is an unfortunately common event to wake you up. Without checking, you know who’s on the other side of the door. That messy black hair and those piercing eyes are waiting impatiently for you to make your way across your cramped apartment, you’re positive of it.

The floor is cold underneath your socked feet as you make your way over the piles of books, papers, and clothes strewn everywhere across your room. While the trek is short, to your sleep-addled brain it feels like it lasts forever, with you in a dreamlike state of confusion and agitation. You can hear the sound of rain pounding against your apartment roof, a steady rhythm in time with your slow breathing.

With a deep breath, you open your door and you’re met with the familiar, tall form of Zeffirelli. “I have an idea for the revolution,” he says, out of breath, soaked from the rain. “And I need your cinematic expertise.”

“So that’s why you’re at my apartment at three in the morning?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes. And it’s only two,” he says as he brushes past you and goes straight to your tiny kitchen. Absentmindedly, he rifles through your counters and grabs the first food he finds; some untrustworthy brown biscuits. You don’t take any when he offers. “I needed to talk to you. Son affaire sérieuse.”

“Right, I’m sure it is. Tell me, what exactly do you need my help with? I’m not sure I can be of much help.” You shuffle into the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove, accepting the fact that you’re probably not going to get any sleep tonight.

“Absurdité. Who else is going to shut down my best ideas ruthlessly?”

“I would do that in daylight too,” you accuse. He fits beside you at your counter and reaches across you for the sugar bowl, taking a sugar cube and putting it in your cup. Two more are added to the cup that he’s claimed as his own from your array of delicately painted teacups.

“But you admit to having shut down good ideas?” A twinkle in his eyes tells you to give up now and accept your defeat.

“Sure.” It’s worth it to see the victory smile break across his face, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. “I am obviously the bane of your existence. Je suis ta couverture mouillée.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” His consolidation is quick and filled with a teasing lightness that you’ve long since accepted as his trademark. A lot of people would look past him for it, and call it arrogance, but you know it comes from a loving place.

“Don’t make me send you to Mitch Mitch’s apartment instead,” you warn, waving a spoon in his direction. “I would do it in a heartbeat.” It’s not true, you would much rather he be here with you, instead of at Mitch’s. Despite the entertainment that comes with Zefirelli and Mitch’s back and forth, you’re feeling selfish tonight.

“Empty threats.” he tisks. The kettle whistles from its spot on the stove and you both reach for it at the same time, your fingers brushing against his. It’s terrifyingly electric, but you push past the feeling. Zefirelli withdraws his hand hesitantly and you busy yourself with pouring the tea.

He’s come over in the middle of the night enough for you to know how he takes his tea by heart. Two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, no more, no less. He claims that you make it better than he does, which you choke up to him being unable to boil water without making a mess.

Clearing your throat, you ask, “So, what’s this big idea? Care to fill me in on why I’m awake at this time of the night.”

“What’s your movie about?” he fires back immediately, settling into your beaten blue couch.

“Did you come here to pester me about my future?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “Because I will kick you to the curb.”

“No, no,” he laughs, “you wouldn’t do that to me. You have no resistance to my pretty face.”

“Ah, yes, you’ve figured out my one weakness. It seems as though you’ll be taking advantage of it forever.”

“Of course, ensoleillement. What would I do if I didn’t have you to manipulate?” He sits across from you on the couch and grabs one of the blankets you have thrown around. It goes over his shoulders and he huddles into its warmth.

“So what did you come here to talk about?” you ask, taking a sip from your tea and placing it on the side table.

“Oh, right!” His eyes light up as he sits up straighter, splashing tea all over himself. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to care very much. “I thought that I would have my mother’s friend, some writer, is coming into town soon. I was thinking that I should ask her to help me. At the least, she can write about us, no? What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. What does she write for?”

“The French Dispatch. You know, the one with all the stories they put out once a month or so. I hear that she’s looking for something out here in our petite ville.”

The conversation shifts and he talks about his big ideas and how he’s going to get them done. You could listen to him talk for hours, and, by the time he’s finished, you have, not that you have anything better to do. Not even dreams of him are this real. You could never make up in your mind the way his eyes sparkle and his hands flutter with excitement, or the way his hair falls in front of his face when he’s moving too fast.

Eventually, sleep takes him over, comically mid-sentence. He’s propped up against the side of the couch in a very uncomfortable looking way, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’ve known him to fall asleep in worse situations,

When his breathing stills and his eyes close, you allow yourself to look at him as he is without fluttering hands and excited eyes. He’s calm and motionless, except for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Everything about him is usually coiled for action, an easy tension running through his hands and his eyes, but now, now he’s undistributed and serene, laying with his hair splayed like a dark halo around his head.

Before you close your eyes, you tuck yourself close to him, fitting against his warmth like you’ve done so many times in the past, just like this, on deep-silence-ridden nights.

“You’re my movie,” you whisper into the dark, towards his sleeping figure. “You’re the one I write about.”

But of course, he doesn’t hear.

*

“Medre,” Zeffirelli swears, hopping around and trying to get his shoes on. “I have a test today.”

“You should have thought of that before you came over that early,” you admonish, watching him with amusement. “Why you didn’t think you would oversleep, I have no clue.”

“We’re in this class together, ensoleillement. You’re going to burn with me,” he warns, rushing a hand through his hair carelessly. It sticks up widely in every direction, but you know better than to try to fix it. Nothing can convince his hair to do anything except chaos.

“Yeah, but it’s so much more fun not to think about that.” Begrudgingly, you start to get ready as well. The floors creak under your feet as you shuffle to your bedroom, where a clean outfit is nowhere to be found.

For a moment, you let yourself think of the wild-haired, cigarette-smoking, arrogant person in the room next to you. His infuriating charm and charismatic persuasion captured you years ago, and you haven’t been able to get out of his orbit since then.

You may be his sunshine, but he’s your gravity, keeping you centered but tipping you over and surprising you at times.

“Dépêchez-vous,” Zeffirelli calls, rapping his knuckles against the wall. “Hurry up.” You know he doesn’t really care about making it to class on time, despite the panic, but you also know that he understands you well enough to know that you want to make it on time.

The film class you have this morning is one of your favorites, and you try and avoid missing it as much as you can. While your film studies class is more focused on the aspects of film, this class advises it’s students on the writing and cinematography that you need to make something truly special.

To make something worthy of a manifesto.

“Mon chéri, we have to go,” Zefirelli warns one last time before giving up and aimlessly wondering around your room.

“Don’t touch that,” you sigh, not having to look at Zeffirelli to know that he’s touching something he shouldn’t be touching. When you do look over, you see him flipping through your journal.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Zeffirelli defends, hiding something behind his back. You send a glare in his direction and lean back in the chair by your mirror. The wood creaks underneath you and you stretch out your back, satisfying pops cascading up your spine.

“You have some deep dark secrets written in here?” His tone is joking, and he waves the journal in the air, taunting you.

“Grocery lists and middle-of-the-night thoughts,” you dismiss. “If you want to know when I forgot to pay the electricity bill, look on the fifth page.” You hope with everything you have that he’s going to let it go, but you have no such luck. He’s nothing if not absurdly relentless.

“I know for a fact that you don’t write anything like that down, it’s not worth the time. You just forget things like the rest of us.”

“Peut être. Still, put it down.” He doesn’t. Instead, he keeps reading with a grin on his face that slowly falls as he makes his way through the rest of the book.

“Is this- is this written about me?” he asks, disbelief written on his face. “Is this your movie?”

“I asked you to stop reading,” you defend miserably, hiding your head in your hands. “I know it’s strange, and I know I shouldn’t be writing about you like that. You don’t want to be heroic or some great leader, above everyone else, but I cannot help it if that’s who you are. Please understand, I only wrote what I saw.”

“I’m your movie? I’m what you have been furiously scribbling away at, working on late at night?”

“You’re my everything,” you admit honestly, softly, “How could you not be the plot of my movie too?” Zeffirelli walks slowly towards you and drops the journal on the floor. “I’m sorry, Zeffirelli.”

“Why?” he asks breathlessly, standing in between your legs and settling his hands on your shoulders. “What have you to be sorry for? You have immortalized be forever with your words. How can I be anything but grateful. If- if I ever gave you the idea that I do not burn for you- that I do not turn towards you in every room like you are the sun and I am a flower, then I can do nothing but apologize profusely. There is more than one reason that you are my ensoleillement. You are grumpy and rude and you give me shit for everything I do, but you also light up my days and nights. You are warmth and home. You are everything.” Zeffirelli’s voice is breathless and rushed, his hands coming up to cup your face. They’re shaky and the calluses on his fingertips are rough against your cheekbones, but you lean into them anyway.

“Zef,” you whisper, like it’s the only word you know. Just as soft as his words, his lips come down to yours, hesitantly at first, but more sure as you don’t protest.

He truly is your everything. That’s the only thing running through your mind as he kisses you with everything he has.

“We’re going to be late to your favorite class,” he gasps in between frantic kisses. “Don’t be angry at me when you have extra homework.”

“I make no promises,” you laugh, pulling him back into you. “But I’ll try my best.” For him, you’ll do anything.

He’s your ensoleillement, your sunshine, just as you’re his.

[moongothic]

do you have a crack theory so ridiculous it has no way of being true but it brings you so much joy, you still give it thought? :D

Honestly it's just the "Crocodile is 1/4th merman" thing. I don't know what it is about it but it sparks joy

Not really a crack theory but. IDK why, maybe it's just the abundant fanart I've seen that's given me brainrot, but I do genuinely love the idea that Crocodile and Mihawk knew each other as little kids and then just kinda grew apart/got separated for some reason or another. There's just something so incredibly precious to me about that concept and I love it to absolute death. Like I think about Baby Croc and Baby Hawk being a menace duo 'causing havoc wherever they go and I just