What if, in some circumstances which I cannot even think of, Sanji cannot cook himself and has to tell Zoro what to do.
And Zoro's sword skills are NOT equal to his knife skills 😭
Sanji also would use fancy chef vocabulary to give commands like "now sauté those onions until they're godlen-brown" or something and Zoro's like da fuck's a co-lander. why would you need like 5 different pans.
BADABING BADABOOM HERE YOU GO REG MY DEAR technically pre-rs but they act like they’ve been married decades. ANYWAYS enjoy 🤭🤭
Zoro swore as the knife slipped again, skidding flat against the chopping board with a dull scrape that made him wince.
In hindsight, this was all the stupid cook’s fault. Bastard just had to go and break his arm; Sanji had tried to do things one-handed for a while before he’d evidently gotten fed up and stuck his head out the galley door to scream for Zoro to help with lunch at top volume, apparently under the assumption that since Zoro was a master swordsman he’d be able to handle knives.
And by all rights, he should. He was the demon pirate hunter. He carried his best friend’s dream like a talisman in his pocket. He wasn’t going to let himself be bested by a fucking vegetables and a knife.
But Zoro was quite certain that barring his sense of direction, he had never been quite this bad at anything in his entire existence.
The garlic had been miniscule, the celery had been too fucking slippery, the onions had made his eyes burn, and now this stupid carrot kept trying to run away from him. He could handle rough chops, sure; but when Sanji was being all picky about—
“I said medium dice, marimo, not mutilate.”
“I don’t know what that fucking means, shithead,” Zoro gritted, not even bothering to turn around where Sanji was sitting at the dining table. He re-aligned the knife and felt inexplicably betrayed when it slipped again, slicing diagonally into the carrot. It was a miracle he hadn’t taken off a finger yet.
He felt stupid. Awkward and useless and out of his element, it was just cooking, for fuck’s sake—
“Marimo.”
“What,” he snapped, fingers tightening around a wooden handle. Sanji’s tone had gone soft around the edges and it rankled him, made him feel irrationally angry like a tiger pacing around in its cage, trapped and seething—
“This one’s on me,” Sanji murmured, coming around to hover by his side, something Zoro couldn’t identify in the set of his face. “Shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be good with knives just because you’re good with swords.”
The words sent a wave of panic through Zoro, stomach dropping fast enough that he ran his mouth. A need to please he hadn’t felt since he was a child. Desperation not to disappoint. “Shut the fuck up, I am, I just—” He snapped his jaw shut, pressing his teeth together hard. “Just… Give me a minute to figure it out.”
“You’re already doing better than I was, when I started,” Sanji said lightly, hair falling across his face as he tipped his head.
“You were a child,” he ground out. The knife clattered as he put it down to shake out his hands. “S’not saying much.”
The cook hummed, strangely gentle. “Still. It’s alright—”
“I don’t want your pity.”
And, oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Pity. Zoro felt like a dumb kid again, and it was so much worse because it was Sanji. And he didn’t want to think about the implications of that, so he sneered, “Don’t look down on me, shitty cook. You and your fancy-ass cooking terms and your hundred and one pans and—”
Sanji cut him off with a bark of a laugh, tossing his head back. His left arm was immobilised in a sling, tucked close to his body as he moved behind Zoro and reached around him to pick the knife up again. “Your brains must really be full of moss if you think I’m looking down on you. Come on.” He offered Zoro the handle, and the swordsman didn’t need to look to know that Sanji was smiling over his shoulder. “One last try.”
He worked his jaw for a second, and huffed through his nose. “I fucking swear, curly, if I get cut—”
“You won’t,” Sanji replied, resolute as he watched Zoro take the knife.
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re not stupid and I’m not careless, especially not with you.”
The last part had been a little quieter, riding on a rushed breath, and Zoro eyed the cook pensively as slender fingers wrapped around his hand.
“Here. Like this.”
With Sanji’s help, he cut the carrot into lengthwise sticks and then neat cubes, chopping up a few more before dumping the whole lot into a bowl with most of what he’d already cut. Sanji shifted away, poking a chopstick into the oil he’d left to heat.
“See the bubbles?” he murmured, peering down into the pot. “That’s how you check if it’s hot enough.” He twisted one of the knobs down before grabbing the vegetables and dumping them in, shifting the pieces around with a wooden spatula as they sizzled gently. “This is a mirepoix,” he said, pronouncing it meer-pwah. “It forms the flavour base of a lot of dishes. The aim is to use low heat, cook it down really slow— so that it doesn’t burn and you bring out the sweetness.”
He was speaking softly enough that it could have been to himself, but the commentary was obviously for Zoro’s benefit, and Zoro. Did not like how that was making him feel at all.
They were quiet for a while as Sanji did his thing, and the swordsman crossed his arms as he leaned his hip against the counter. The sun filtering in through the window was lighting Sanji’s hair up gold, washing his features in a subtle glow that emphasised the softness of his expression, relaxed and so entirely in his element that it made Zoro’s chest ache. Made something press up beneath his lungs, made it hard to breathe, and it ached.
Impervious to his inner turmoil, Sanji continued, stirring frequently as the galley started to smell really good. “When the onion turns translucent, that’s the sweet spot—” The chopped (more mushed, if Zoro was inclined to be honest) garlic from earlier went in with a vicious sizzle, then a few dashes of different sauces and a good pour of chicken stock. “Could you get the black pepper?”
Zoro grunted, grabbing the grinder from the corner and putting a few good cracks into the pot as Sanji added salt, stirred one last time, and propped the lid on partway. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Sanji confirmed, smirking, but not unkindly. “Once that simmers down it’ll be our soup, and I’ll just have to cook some noodles. I was planning for mussels in a garlic butter white wine reduction and seared scallops with this delicious spiced pomegranate and herb glaze, but— I think that might have killed you.” Something must have shown on Zoro’s face, because the cook laughed, bright and easy. “You did good, marimo, all things considered. I’d probably be horrid at sword fighting. We’re even.”
Zoro scowled, fighting back against the spark that flared in the depths of his chest at that thought. Sparring with Sanji, in his element, giving the cook shit for it but also helping. Teaching. “Hurry up and get better, and we’ll see.”
Sanji groaned, rolling his eyes even as he chuckled. “You’re gonna kick my ass, aren’t you.”
Maybe. But even more than that… He thought about how Sanji had held his hand over the knife, patient but not condescending even though he could have been, the skin of his wrist cool against Zoro’s forearm. The look on his he face as he did what he loved and the way it had made something warm bloom behind Zoro’s sternum. The swordsman let his teeth peek in a lazy grin as his chin tipped up; an entire challenge. Half of the bite. “We’ll see.”
fin.
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So can ada Chuuya and Dazai even touch each other any more. Like ada Chuuya’s ability is now amplification and Dazai’s nullification which lead to them creating a singularity if they touch right?
My boring answer is that No Longer Human cancels out any ability it comes in contact with, and wins, no exception. So Dazai touching Chuuya would just cancel his ability before it takes effect, preventing any funny reaction. No ability can affect Dazai after all.
After that there's the question of how this new ability works. I was thinking "always active" to match NLH, but it's true that the kid in the video seemed to activate it on demand. It's hard to say what the lab had done with him at that point though.
In any case, Chuuya keeps the gloves on because his ability works through touch, so it's easier to get used to it + not activate it by reflex during a fight and cause more chaos if he needs to take off the gloves first.
This isn't near the first ask or comment I have received about this specific topic, so if you have ideas for a fun singularity that could happen here, don't be shy! Let's all explore this together bring your ideas to the table
otherwise I said it before but the funny answer is that if Dazai touches Chuuya while he's using his ability they are subjected to the equivalent of a static shock and both start yelling and complaining about it
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Have you seen the people on Twitter making 50 thousand look Tweet threads about how being altersex “fetishizes” being intersex 😭 God forbid you don’t want a traditional transition
I haven't seen those specifically because I rarely use Twitter but I know what you're talking about lmao
For one it shouldn't matter whether or not someone wants to transition for a fetish. But also the way people think that "no one could possibly want non-traditional genitalia for Good and Pure reasons, it's a curse you most be born with" is good for intersex people. Hell intersex people CAN BE ALTERSEX, especially people who want to return to genitalia they had at birth that was changed against their will as infants. There absolutely are intersexist altersex people but to call an entire group fetishizers for simply having genital dysphoria/euphoria is so unhelpful to intersex people. Like there are far bigger issues than salmacians just existing (also, people can work on unlearning intersexism, whereas these people want salmacians to either stop existing/be dysphoric forever because of their discourse-poisoned idea of what "fetishization" means)
It's also fucked up because I know that a LOT of salmacians felt guilty for years for wanting a salmacians body because it is so heavily sexualized, and the only place they ever saw it was in porn. r/salmacian has a ton of posts from people saying "I thought I was a weird freak for wanting this & that it could only exist in hentai but now I realize it's actually normal and attainable". It's so deeply fucked up to shame people away from transition that could radically improve their life for some bullshit identity politic "activism".
I've said it before and I'll say it again: the idea that non-traditional genitalia is not only natural, but can be desirable to possess, is only good for intersex people. The idea that non-traditional genitalia can ONLY be for people who were born with it is just. stupid. It creates this vibe that it's like, a burden you must carry rather than something you can choose to have or keep because it's normal and can be just as nice as traditional genitalia. Intersex people and altersex people can and should be friends & allies.
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