Hey! Sorry, I've been tired and lazy and really unmotivated and dealing with my issues. But I've gotten a lot of messages to post more, so here's this, I'm sick of looking at it and I think it's as done as it's gonna get. In all honesty, part of my issue with writing this is I don't actually have much of a plot figured out. This started off as a drabble-y thing and i posted it on tumblr in a fit of frustration because i just couldn't deal with it, and because of all the positive feedback, I've felt inspired to write more. But I don't know where it's going... So bear with me! And thank you!
Also, I've started adding quotes about tattoos and soulmates to the top of chapters :) (I went back and did 1-3 too)
"What's the difference?" I asked him. "Between the love of your life, and your soulmate?"
"One is a choice, and one is not."
-Tarryn Fisher, Mud Vein
Sanji sighed as he tossed his jacket in the direction of the coat rack his father kept in his living room. He fell onto the couch, flinging an arm over his eyes, not moving even when his father limped into the room.
"What the hell are you doing eggplant? Do you not have your own apartment to mope around in?"
"I'm contemplating whether this soulmate thing is complete bullshit or not." Sanji sighed, his fingers itching to pull out his lighter.
"The great romantic, Sanji Black, doubts the idea of soulmates? What has the world come to?" Zeff snorted, settling down into a chair with a groan. "I'm guessing you've met them and they aren't up to your standards. Are they not a model of the ridiculous American beauty standard? Or your imagined 'gorgeous and exotic' Japanese woman?"
Sanji sighed, "He's definitely not what I expected."
"I knew it." Zeff snorted. Sanji pulled the arm off of his face to glare at his father, "Excuse me?"
"Eggplant, you're too much of an idiot around women to make it work, even with your female friends you swear you love like sisters." Zeff said, putting a hand up to stop Sanji from interrupting him, "I'm serious moron, this is the best thing for you, obviously the universe or whatever thinks so too. Even before you had met your soulmate you had put them on a goddamn pedestal that was unreachable, and you would have horribly offended them within seconds if they hadn't matched your imagination, and it would have been worse if they had matched your imagination."
"Horribly offended?" Sanji gaped, "I- I would never! How could you say I would offend a beautiful woman who I would be ever so lucky to be soul mates with?"
"'Gorgeous and exotic' were the words you used describe you mental image of your soulmate. Exotic as if she weren't a human but a product being sold. Every other description of your imaginary female soul mate was an unobtainable person. You were setting yourself up for disappointment and it probably would have crushed her. You're an open book kid, your emotions show easily on your face, and seeing a girl that didn't fit in the ridiculously narrow confines of your ideals would disappoint you. And because of you being so shallow, the poor girl would be crushed that she wasn't good enough for her soulmate. You can be extremely sexist and shallow when you talk about women." Zeff sighed and learned back, "I thought I raised you to have an open mind about this shit, but somehow you picked up this sexist mind set. I blame western society; it makes people hate what doesn't fit into their ridiculous values."
"But I don't hate women!" Sanji protested, "And I'm not shallow!"
Zeff snorted, "I know you don't hate women, but you've let yourself buy into the idea women can't do the things men can do. You're a sexist, not a misogynist, you don't hate women, but you support the oppression, even if it isn't conscious. Your mother would've…."
Zeff cut himself off and sighed, as he usually did when he spoke of Sanji's mother, "Look, you can be ridiculous, and it's for the best your soulmate is a man. You don't even have to be romantic, there is such a thing as platonic soulmates. Speaking of which, let's see that tattoo."
Sanji sighed, grumbling as he heaved himself off the couch, turning and pulling his shirt off. He could feel Zeff's eye travelling over the tattoo, and he shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Zeff snorted, pushing himself out of his armchair, "I really don't know how you deluded yourself into thinking it was a woman. Really eggplant, I have no idea."
"This could have fit a woman! A strong woman! Someone with fighting spirit!" Sanji argued. Zeff snorted, "It could have been yes, I know I taught you to look past the stereotypical boy and girl expectations, but think Sanji. Actually think and don't delude yourself, would a strong woman with a fighting spirit want to put up with you in a romantic soul mate relationship? Someone who puts women on an unachievable pedestal and won't let them do anything themselves? This is the most logical match for a romantic relationship, you, and a guy who won't put up with your shit. The strong woman version of your soul mate you imagined would have left you when you deemed her too delicate to do anything more than sit at a table and be fawned over because of her gender. It never would have worked out, soul mate or not, but a man? A man is the one person you can be yourself around, and will hopefully put up with your bullshit; you won't feel the need to hide yourself to seem like a saintly knight, you'll be Sanji."
Sanji blinked, well shit, when it was put like that, it was probably the best logic behind his pairing. If there was any logic behind the pairings at all. Most of them just worked, there was no logic. Your soul mate was the one you were going to spend your entire life with, the pairings always made sense, even in the platonic relationships. They were the closest friendships one could make, and they always worked out. Except for Sanji's of course, how the actual fuck had that even happened. Never mind, that was it, there was no logic, the universe or whatever decided soul mates decided to fuck with Sanji because it hated him. The one thing he had always wanted was a romantic soulmate, a relationship like his father and mother had had. But the universe gave him a… possibly platonic relationship.
"But… he's a guy…. A shitty antagonistic male, with green hair and surly attitude, I just… I can't wrap my mind around it. And did I mention he was male, a person with a dick?" Sanji moaned, throwing his arm in the air. Zeff snorted, "For someone who claims they don't like men you seem to be pretty fixated on this guy's dick."
Sanji sat up spluttering indignantly as he glared at his father. Zeff snorted and stood from his chair, "When you're done having your stupid crisis head down to the kitchen, we need a waiter."
Sanji growled as the old man limped out of the room and down the stairs to the restaurant. Shitty old man and his shitty jokes. He threw himself back down onto the sofa, staring at the yellowed ceiling. How could his soul mate, the one he had been told was the one for him, the one he would spend forever with, be a guy?! One he couldn't get along with at that, platonic or no, it wasn't a perfect match. Sanji had the worst luck dammit. Whatever he had done in a past life must have been pretty fucking awful to have this happen to him.
Sanji wandered down the hall to his old room and threw on his extra chefs whites he kept here. Shitty old man would have to kick someone else out of the kitchen to be a goddamn waiter. He walked down the stairs and into the chaotic kitchen, slipping past the other chefs and their workstations until he got to his. Taking a deep breath, he rolled up his sleeves and let the stress and shock of the day leave him. Cooking while distracted or emotional led to mistakes and bad food, and Sanji prided himself with being able to clear his mind of anything other than the food he was cooking. He quickly got into the rhythm of the kitchen, letting the swearing and shouted insults soothe him into normalcy.
His hands flew as he gathered the utensils he would need. The special of the night was his own creation, a simple yet delicious dish of soba noodles and pan seared tofu he had thrown together for a rush order when he was 14 for a vegan customer. The customer had sung his praises about the dish, and it had become a regular menu item. He had made it so the tofu didn't have the slight plastic taste and even those who loved meat ordered the dish.
He grabbed the tofu and started preparing it, rinsing it and patting it dry before reaching for his knife to cut it into cubes.
"Oi, Sanji, what's on your arm?" One of the chefs asked as he passed, "did you get hit by a marker or something?"
Sanji tensed, his head slowly turning to his exposed right arm. Shit. The green tail of the dragon that wrapped around his bicep and ended just above his elbow was perfectly visible to the kitchen.
He shook his arm so his sleeve slipped down from where he had folded it up, "it's nothing, just some colouring from this morning when I was icing cakes."
Another one of the chefs snorted, "So that's where you were this morning? At the new bakery, icing cakes? Gonna leave us soon? Spare the customers of this fine establishment your shitty cooking?"
"I was helping a friend." Sanji growled back, setting his knife down as he glared around the kitchen, "if you fuck ups don't shut the hell up about the bakery I'll kick your asses, you hear?"
"You really can't resist a woman can you?" One of the newer chefs snorted, grabbing the bottle of soy sauce off Sanji's worktable. Sanji scowled at him and flipped him off, "Conis is an old friend, who has a soul mates, and she just needed an extra hand. Fuck off."
"When you meet your soul mate you're going to be insufferable." A chef called. Sanji tensed and stopped cutting the tofu. If the found out about his soul mate…
"Isn't that arm with the green smudge part of his tattoo?" One of the older chefs called, and everyone looked up from what they were doing to stare at Sanji's arm.
Fuck me… Sanji shifted his arm so the sleeve dropped down to his elbow, but it was too late. Carne, whose station was next to Sanji's, reached over and jerked Sanji's sleeve up, exposing the green tail or the dragon.
"The tattoo's coloured!" He shouted, and meals were abandoned in favour of gawking at the green tail winding around Sanji's upper arm.
"Why weren't you spouting off about her?"
"Was she not pretty enough?"
"That's it! She's ugly and Sanji's ashamed!"
What if it's a man?"
"All of you, shut the hell up!" Sanji roared, jerking his arm from the grasp of many hands, "You all have no right to call any women ugly, and my soul mate is none of your fucking business, go back to your stations before you fucking burn something you halfwits."
They all stared at him for a second before turning away. Someone snorted as they walked away, "It's totally a man, poor bastard's gonna have his hands full with this asshole."
"Go fuck yourself, second rate cook." Sanji snarled, flipping the man off, before turning back to his tofu. He gripped his knife tightly before relaxing his grip and reaching for the tofu.
This fucking sucked.
So in case you couldn't tell, I'm a feminist. (And a vegan, but that's just a small bit in there, and I really want to try the recipe Sanji's making...) Anyway, I wrote Zeff's bit on my phone, my computer and in a notebook and then mashed them together, so it might seem a little disjointed? I tried to make it flow but some of it might be a little weird. Just let me know if there's issues with it, somethings might be repeated or contradicted, but I've read it over so many times I can't tell anymore.