I think OPLA broke the shitty live action adaptation curse.
Like sure, there were a ton of chances and streamlining happening all over the place but it works. Visuals are great, casting is incredible and the show was a great ride with tons of fun moments and easter eggs and I almost cried a few times and got chills many times.
It definitely has the spirit of the original story in it.
As an OP fan from 2005 on, this was a good adaptation from my view. Someone who's not into One Piece will be better equipped to tell you if it does the necessary expositon well enough to follow the story as a newbie. I've seen some comments that OPLA succeeds in that pretty well, but again, I'm not the best judge.
Now I'll need to dig up the OST to listen to the orchestral versions of Binks' Sake and We Are. Happy sailing!
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The entertainment industry is not my area of expertise so I could be completely wrong... But I really do feel like Tim saying "[fanfic writers] don't have network notes. You don't have studio notes", then in the next paragraph saying "I don't really plan out endgame so much" and in the next article acknowledging "Eddie also has very complicated feelings...about his place in the world" when asked about Buddie, has a pretty straightforward (pun intended) interpretation when you splice them together:
Buck's storyline in 7x04 may be a Buddie audition or test run for the studio/network execs.
(narratively and societally Buck's coming out arc is so much more than that but from the lens of the C suite? However much they say they care about messaging and inclusion we live in a capitalist hellscape: they're looking at the dollar$.)
More under the cut.
I just - I don't see the value in my fellow buddie stans venting their spleen via rage-bombing IMDb ratings or stating that they're not going to watch the show any more. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face. Ultimately, it's everyone's individual choice on how they choose to react, but I have serious doubts that Network execs are going to look at a ratings/ranking/other metrics dip and go 'oh, clearly the issue is that Buck is with the wrong dude lets give him a different one.' They're more likely to say 'Tim pulled an Icarus and we need to rein it back in.' Which is bad for queer rep in general, and not just this one ship.
You want Tim to be able to march into his boss's office and sell them on Buddie? For continued focus on queer narratives? Give him the numbers to back it up - and we know the homophobes are peacing out so let's not compound it? Please?
Anyway, you don't even need to move mountains or do something wild but here's what I'm doing:
- Texted all my Destiel and Merthur friends. <3 They walked so we could run, or something.
- Convinced my sister to watch/stream the show (even if it's just on in the background as she does other stuff. Shout out to the best sis ever).
- Leave kind (but fair) IMDb rating on the episodes, especially queer forward ones. Seriously - I see posts on Tumblr all the time with more notes than an episode has ratings. You can even write a review (and include your continued hope for Buddie) if you're feeling frisky.
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if you don't mind i'd love to see what'd you think it'd be like being found by razor first in sagau!!! he's my main and like a son to me <3. also i am handing you little cat shaped cookies, ur writing is always a treat when its on my dash!!!!!!
lightning sigil
a/n: in return to your delightful gift, i bring you this small love letter to the first character i ever pulled. i’m glad to know that i have brightened people’s day, and hope to reflect this kindness back to you <3
word count: 1111!!!
-> warnings: spoilers for razor lore / story quest? i suppose?
-> lowercase intended
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie
< masterlist >
you land in wolvendom, lamp grass cradling your fallen form. a soft blue glow lights up the dark forest, and despite the stars shining through the leaves, you can see a fair distance around you. the plants and ferns curl around and hold your curious hand, brushing carefully into your palm. it’s…. unnatural, for certain, but it isn’t unnerving in the way you’d expect.
you spend a little longer than you’d like to admit in a trance of sorts, watching the wind blow flowers against your wrist and leaves flutter between your fingers. it’s strange, but certainly a welcome distraction from waking up in a strange environment.
speaking of…
you inspect the lamp grass around you, ignoring the odd way they preen into your touch. are they really lamp grass? or is this some weird dream? it has to be, right? the wind doesn’t just… do that, it doesn’t curl bushes into your hair and brush away errant strands with the care of an actual hand. it doesn’t in your world.
the brush rattles with the breeze, but you don’t pay much attention, chalking it up to the same strange wind as the one affecting the flora around you, continuing to inspect the small plant in your hand. the small bulb seems to glow brighter just by being next to your skin, and your brain calls up some explanation of bioluminescence from some science class or odd youtube video.
sticks creak and leaves rustle, sounding like somebody’s approaching. you turn in the direction of the sound, scooting back until your back hits a tree. you were too distracted to notice earlier, but as you stare into the dark space between the tree trunks, you realize how unsettlingly dark it is. you can’t see anything.
your breath picks up, your fingers threading into the grass. it weaves back into your hand, cool with nighttime, and you falter momentarily on the fact that wind couldn’t possibly be affecting it this way.
the bushes part.
red eyes stare at you from the pitch black, something shimmering in the darkness besides them. you can’t look away, even as your spine prickles with nerves and unease, transfixed by something that seems so familiar and yet should have you running.
the eyes tilt. the bushes part further.
white hair comes into view first, then a dark hood and large white pendants. dark army-green pants fold and bend over a crouched form, buckles and tassels clicking over the bushes, somehow not catching.
you clutch at the grass. it holds you back.
“you…”
you can’t move as the boy—you tell yourself you don’t know his name, you tell yourself it’s not the same guy—approaches, kneeling in front of you. his hands are gloves, the leather shockingly warm where it reaches for your hand.
“you’re here.”
the shock and emotion in his voice surprises you, alongside the implicit recognition in his words. he knew you? he…
you tell yourself again that this can’t be the razor you know. this can’t be the one you’ve poured time and energy into, this isn’t the same boy as from your game, he’s not the one you cooed and called after. he’s not the one you cried over when he got hurt, he’s not the one you spent hours and hours grinding for and perfecting and leveling and loving-
not-razor tugs at your wrist. “stand. you should not be with the grass.”
you ignore the chord in your heart that burns at his voice and let him pull you up, at a loss for words. you want to say something, it feels awkward not breaking the silence, but you dont know what to say. what can you? is this version of razor aware of what you did for him? what kind of dream are you even having right now?
he steadies you with another hand on your arm, frowning. you didn’t even realize you were swaying.
“you okay?”
you nod. he doesn’t seem convinced.
“come. follow.”
he pulls you along, one of his hands falling away to push aside branches in your path. moonlight streams in bars from the sky, fireflies flickering along the path. you cling to razor’s hand, walking a little closer to him. the night is cold, and though the wind creeping through the trees was comforting before, it’s only off-putting now.
he makes an odd half-huff, holding your hand tighter. the noise doesn’t sound irritated, somehow, even as you’re certain it would from anybody else.
he leads you to a small ledge, coming up to your waist, and clambers up with ease. before you can struggle over the rock, he reaches his hands over the edge.
“here. i help you.”
the simple dialogue makes you smile.
he pulls you up and over the edge easily, standing and smoothly pulling you up alongside him. the action is quick, one that leaves you a bit disoriented, but you quickly get your bearings again. after checking you over, he gives a self-satisfied smile and continues walking.
“oh- ah, where are we going?”
your words come out strange and off-kilter in your continued confusion, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“place to sit. wait.”
“for?”
“wolf pack!”
he says it with such pride, you can see the affection in his eyes even from your angle at his side. they really are his family..
you come into a clearing with a large rock in the center, the moon falling through a gap onto a large portion of it. razor leads you near the center of the moonlit portion, sitting down.
“once wolves return, we will bring you somewhere better. less cold.”
you stare, watching as he fusses with his cloak. why would they take you in? surely they didn’t…
after a moment, razor managed to remove his jacket, leaning in to wrap it around your shoulders. it’s small, unsurprisingly, but warm in a way you don’t expect.
“you know me?”
razor smiles as he sits back, an awkward imitation yet endearing all the same. when he speaks, you catch a glimpse of fangs.
“you’re my lupical.”
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