Okay so, can we just talk about, CAN WE JUST FUCKING TALK ABOUT the beauty of incomprehensible love. The love stories that are inexplicitly explicitly romantic in way that can only be portrayed and understood by the entities within it, cause that is just what makes SENSE for them, for their matter that strewns them together, the concepts that thread their beings, the neurons that bring their minds to life!
The sort of love that can't be expressed in a mere human way, with a gift, with a conversation, or even in a bed
Something that can't be expressed with "affection" or "adoration", perhaps it be expressed with "devotion", "understanding" maybe, but the closest thing you could say is "I love you" and even that is unable to capture the intricacies of what is felt!
Can we talk about the broiling passion in glorious battle with an opponent you know you will never beat, and they know will never beat you, but you will never cease your attempt because there is nothing else, no one else you would feel quite so alive with?
Can we talk about the play of a dance taken through the ages, over an eternity, of teasing, testing, tempting one another to pull to your side, to see your world, until, you don't know where your morals starts, and their's ends?
Can we talk about the yearning that comes from sharing a drink, but never a word, simply seeing this other again and again, never knowing their mind, but longing to have it, and yet understanding that in those shared glances, those half hearted chuckles, awkward coughs, no matter what sorrow you've experienced in that past, what tragedies you've suffered to put you here, you have each other, and this person to silently share your quiet troubles with?
Can we talk about the shrugs, and smiles, and laughs, and inability to answer "So what even are you guys?" "When did this happen??" "have you ever been apart?" "What's your secret?" "What are we?" yet in your mind you already know "it's just us"?
Can we talk about that amorphous constructs, meant to be one, yet pulled apart, by forces even they are unable to control, only to call to one another again, knowing that only in their counterpart they are able to feel whole, feel as they are meant to feel?
124 notes
·
View notes
There are many new friends on the archive, and many are young and have only known social media, which is why I wanted to say something!
Ao3 does not have an algorithm! It isn't a social media site, it's an archive.
Posting fics on Tumblr isn't the same as posting fics on Ao3
Ao3 is like a giant virtual bookshelf, and everyone is able to add their own stories to the bookshelf, all stored with different tags and different fandoms. Works are automatically sorted by newest to oldest, but filters, looking at bookmarks, and using the search function can change that.
Certain works are not pushed to the top like social media posts. More kudos and reads don't push a single work to more viewers by some algorithm. Unless otherwise filtered, works will be at the top of the page based on how recent it was posted.
Smaller fandoms get less views, less kudos, less bookmarks, and larger fandoms get more simply because of the number of people inside the fandom.
Ao3 is a giant virtual bookshelf- there is no algorithm, and there is no man behind the shelf pushing certain books forward.
Happy reading, and if you'd like to have more people notice a fic, why not share it with them! Send a dm to a fandom friend and it might turn into one of their favorite fics!
42K notes
·
View notes
asdfghjkl I love your writing. Your Sanji & reader have my heart forreal 🫶🏼✨ keep up the great work 😘
Suggestion: reader having a niche hobby (like knitting/crocheting, or collecting shells, anything really LOL 😆 your choice) and Sanji’s reaction to that
you are soooo sweet thank you!! this request/suggestion was so cute, i loved it.
when i read "collecting shells" i immediately knew what i wanted to write for it and this is how i think go fish!Sanji would react to reader collecting sea shells as a niche hobby:
masterlist
When you had started collecting shells, it didn't start out as a hobby, far from it in fact. You didn't even know collecting sea shells was considered a hobby until Luffy pointed it out to you.
"Oh, wow! You collect shells y/n? How cool!" Luffy gushed with his signature bright smile that lit up his face. That's one of the things you loved about Luffy, he had the ability to make any rudimentary task seem like the most special thing ever. "What a cool hobby!"
And that was when your shell-collecting hobby was born. At first, you had just wanted a souvenir of some sort, just wanting a small piece of each island you visited so you could look back at your collection one day and remember all of the places you've ever been to.
It was something very special to you. So imagine how you felt when you nearly forgot to grab a shell one day, during a routine island pit stop to restock the ship's supplies, when the weather suddenly took a turn for the worst just as the straw-hat crew was making their way towards the ship.
You liked to grab a shell right before you left. Usually, you had your routine: you would go to the closest beach to where the Going Merry was docked at, take a moment to survey the assortment of shells scattered along the beach, and pick out the shell that most reflected your either long or short time on the island. You loved it.
But during that particular trip, your shell-collecting routine didn't go as planned and you nearly had a heart attack at the thought of missing a shell.
The weather had suddenly turned for the worst as you and the crew were walking back towards the Merry. All of a sudden, it started to downpour so everyone decided to run back to the ship as fast as they could before all of the ship's supplies got ruined (well, everyone except for Zoro, who was already back on the ship with his stuff, not wanting to stick around on any island longer than he had to).
As you all were running up the plank to board the ship one by one, Luffy suddenly called out to you from the dock as you tailed behind Nami with Sanji right behind you.
"Wait! Y/n!" he called out and you stopped at the top of the plank to look back at him through the rain. "What about your sea shell? Don't forget to go and grab one!"
You gasped and your eyes widened. Your heart nearly dropped at the thought of forgetting to grab a shell and in turn, forgetting all about your visit to this island. "My shell!"
"Your what?" Sanji asked loudly over the rain, next to you.
You quickly dropped your crate of supplies on the ship's deck, not caring anymore if they got wet or not. "I have to go get my sea shell!" you replied quickly, running past him and back to the dock.
"Don't worry, y/n, we will be waiting right here for you!" Luffy reassured with a nod. "Now go get your shell!" he yelled and raised his fist in the air.
You gave him a grateful smile as you dashed towards the nearest beach, Sanji watching you go with a curious look in his eye before bringing your supply crate inside and out of the rain.
That night, as Sanji was cleaning up the kitchen, you were still at the table finishing up the warm soup he had made that night for dinner (he loved that you were a slow eater, it meant that most nights he got to spend a little bit of extra alone time with you in his favorite place), he asked you about your niche hobby.
"Feeling better now?" Sanji asked, breaking the comfortable silence as he cleaned off one of his knives with a rag, sneaking a look at you with a small smile. "All warmed up from being out in the rain too long?"
You hummed in agreement. "Absolutely," you nearly purred in delight (Sanji felt his heartbeat stutter for a second at your tone. He's never heard you like that before). You looked at the chef with gratitude. "Your food always hits the spot Sanji, but the soup you made tonight just hit differently. It warmed me right up."
"Ok good," Sanji laughed softly, looking at you for a few seconds through his blonde hair, and flicked it to the side slightly. "I can't have you getting sick on me now." He finished cleaning off the one knife, setting it down on the counter, picking up another to clean before he asked with a raised brow, "So, uh, why did you go back today? Something about a sea shell?"
And that's how he learned about your niche hobby.
You told him all about it; about how you wanted a small token from everywhere you've ever been, how long you've been doing it, described some of your favorite sea shells you've found so far, and how you couldn't wait to show your collection to your kids and grandkids someday and in turn, telling them all about your adventures with the straw hat pirates.
As Sanji listened to you explain your hobby to him, he couldn't help but smile to himself, stealing glances at you every so often. He loved listening to you talk about the things you were passionate about. He loved the way your face lit up and your eyes sparkled.
And for something as unique and special as this? He loved it even more because he knew that this little hobby of yours went way beyond just collecting shells, it was your own way of physically manifesting your hopes and dreams. Each shell you acquired was another story you would tell your future kids about. You were sharing a part of your soul with him, and Sanji was completely enamored.
From that night forward, Sanji had decided that he too would start a sea shell collection of his own, without you knowing, so that someday in the future, he could surprise you and your kids with it, with the beautiful sea shells he had secretly collected right alongside you, his future wife, the whole time.
He couldn't wait to see the look on your face someday.
taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder
829 notes
·
View notes
I honestly think that Joanne had it the worst (psychologically) during the midnight tea party.
Imagine being bullied and isolated for a year, because someone fabricated an entire web of lies about you due to you getting a tiny bit of positive attention. The truth about the situation finally comes to light, you get your (very demanding) dream job, are well liked among your peers and are finally included within the schools society.
And then within one night you:
-discover your comfort teacher and your first friend are not real and are actually private investigators
-find out your boss who is supposed to be your role model and protector is a murderer
-realize that the principal has been on vacation for a year and was replaced by THE FUCKING GRIM REAPER
-learn that the vice principal is DEAD (and was subjected to human experimentation)
-learn that you're the second replacement for a guy who got brutally murdered and ALSO subjected to human experimentation (which you are witnessing right Infront of your eyes in real time)
-literally hear why and how these humans have been experimented on
-see how someone gets turned into dinner
-almost get turned into dinner yourself and can't escape on time because your body shut down out of shock.
-see how your "friend" is hunted for sport by the grim reaper.
-also see your "comfort teacher" crush someone's head right Infront of you.
-become unconscious out of shock.
-loose not only your boss, two friends (Soma and Ciel )and comfort teacher after this whole fiasco, but also your entire network of coworkers because they got a promotion you're too young to have.
-on top of that YOU CANNOT talk about what happened to you to anyone because you were sworn to secrecy and you can't really talk about it privately to your former colleagues either, since they're now a completely different rank than you.
Like- the guy didn't get physically injured, but he was the only real student to witness the entire Midnight tea party, because he couldn't escape on time. (And let's also not forget that he's the youngest of the real students present at the party and definitely the most sensitive one).
Since the Midnight tea party will happen again, Joanne and his former coworkers are probably forced to attend again since they can't really publicly share the reason as to why they don't want to go.
149 notes
·
View notes
(transcript + some notes/explanation under the cut:)
i feel like the context of this is maybe only apparent in my own head LOL so basically ive kind of imagined an au where, based on the rebirth ending, james has succeeded in bringing mary back to life, but also maria, and also james gets killed in the process. so it's basically just maria and mary alone in the townTM trying to figure each other out. and this is a letter maria sends mary at some point basically.
transcript in case the font is annoying to read:
Mary,
You’ll have to forgive me if any of this sounds a little weird. I haven’t written anybody a letter in years, and I’m not sure if I have much of a way with words. Though I’ve been spending a lot of time in Ernest’s library lately, so hopefully some of his great literature has rubbed off on me. Somehow, I had this idea that I never liked reading much - that it wasn’t really my style - but I ended up getting kind of hooked. His dusty old books sure aren’t the worst company in this town, at any rate.
I wonder what we really are, you and I. I used to think of us as two music box dolls: dancing side by side, spinning in perfect unison to somebody else’s tune. Like a pair of clocks keeping the same time. Two parallel lines, and an impossibility for us to ever intersect, to face each other head-on without some kind of disaster.
We’re not completely identical, though. If you looked closely at me - if you could bear to do that - you’d see all my imperfections. I lack your fine details. The paint on my lips is messier, my joins are showing, and there are bits of sprew left between my fingers. Pick me up, and you’ll feel how much lighter I am - I’m missing a lot of internal parts, you see. I’m a knock-off - we were cast from different molds. You were born of nature, while I was born from your very own killer. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that.
Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Or maybe I’m not so important - maybe you can only think of him. Or perhaps you’re trying not to think of anything at all when you sit by that lake for hours on end.
I don’t know how you can stand it - going to the lake every day. It's so quiet. No ducks, not even a single bird. I’d go crazy, I think. That’s why I like to stay at the bar: there’s no one here either, of course, but it feels easier to imagine there might be. To pretend that we’ve only just closed, that those drinks on the table belonged to the last customers, and not to me.
I’ve been so restless lately, sitting in the bar all night. I wonder if - no, I guess I’m hoping that - something’s going to give, soon. I think I’m losing the beat - I’m spinning slower than you are. I think it’s because I keep getting distracted, always thinking of you. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s simply because you’re the only thing in this dreadful town that’s not a monster.
But I think you must be as lonely as I am. Much more so, probably. And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you’d only reach through the mirror and touch me. I’m full of missing pieces, I know - but I have this notion that between us, we might just be able to come together into something like a real person.
You know, some days I feel I hardly know who I am; but other times I feel so sure that I’m beginning to dance to my own beat. It’s no fun dancing alone, though.
Well, I guess you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting at the bar tonight. I always am. I’ve waited there every night - for something, someone, anything, anyone - for what feels like forever. But these days, I’m just waiting for you.
See you around,
Maria
206 notes
·
View notes