#JEST crew come and get it!
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newdruid · 7 months ago
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Tl;dr: in which Law ignores reader to a point that Bepo believes them to be fighting and because he is inconsolable, Law has no choice but to reveal his real feelings.
A small, fluffy Law x f!reader. No use of reader or y/n. I may rewrite this into something larger, more detailed later on...
You enter Shachi and Penguin's room with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped frown. Both your crewmates quirked a brow at you.
"What's wrong?" Penguin asked. You look up at him as though you only just realized you had entered their room.
"It's the Captain," you begin, "He and I aren't speaking... he's ignoring me, actually. I think maybe I've... done something wrong."
"Like what?"asks Schachi, shifting himself to face you better and coaxing you to sit on his bunk, you take the offer.
"That's the problem. I don't know." You revert into a dead eyed stare with furrowed brows and that tight-lipped frown. "I've been going over every interaction with him from the past three weeks, and I can't think of anything negative."
There's a collective, thoughtful hum from Schachi and Penguin. They couldn't recall anything bad about your daily interactions either. Infact, they thought you and the Captain were close, as you usually made him smile most.
"You're usually the one who gets him to loosen up..." Penguin pondered aloud.
"Yeah, and you guys are always spending time together because he always takes you with him if he gets off the Sub." Added Schachi.
As they finished speaking, Bepo walked into view of the open door to the boys' room.
"Oh, what are you guys talking about?" The innocent polar bear mink entered the room slowly.
"Captain's been ignoring our girl," Penguin explained. "She thinks she did something to really piss him off."
Bepo lets out a gasp at the idea of his friends fighting. "Oh no! Captain's upset?"
"Yeah, but we dont know why." Shachi interjected. "But he's been ignoring our girl for days."
"Weeks." You corrected, Bepo gasps.
"That's awful!" Bepo's furry paws went up to cup either side of his face in worry. "Captain ignored me once for a day because I accidentally ate his onigiri, did you eat his onigiri too?!"
"No," You answered, shaking your head. Bepo began to word vomit possible answers for why the captain could be ignoring you. You shook your head at all of them.
"Geesh. Maybe he just hates ya or something." Shachi jested after the long list of rejected plausible answers. Bepo gasps, horrified at the implication.
"Don't say that! What if he DOES? What if he's gonna kick her off the crew?!" And suddenly, the polar bear mink became inconsolable at the idea that his friend may be exiled from his crew.
Penguin and Shachi immediately tried to comfort the bear, to no avail, and you sat their on Penguin's bunk, wondering if Law really would kick you off the crew. Maybe you had done something truly wrong.
As Bepo continued to sob and you were lost in thought, The Heart Pirates' Captain came into view of the door frame.
"What's going on here?" The captain looked as though the four of you had roused him from an intense study session in his office. "Bepo, why are you crying?" Law's brow became firmly set in question as he noticed the Polar Bear's upset.
"Because!!" The navigator wailed. "You're upset, and ignoring my crewmate which means you're going to kick her off the ship!" Law's expression quickly turned to bewilderment as he looked at Shachi and Penguin for further explanation.
"Our girl here came in upset first!" Penguin explained, raising his hands in defense. "She said you'd been ignoring her for weeks, and Bepo got upset 'cause you two aren't getting along."
Law's bewilderment shifted to a mix of realisation and surprise. He held his head in his hand, and behind the wall of his palm, you almost swore you saw his cheeks go ruddy.
"I'm not kicking anyone off the crew Bepo." Mumbled the Captain before he raised his head to look at you. "Can you come to my office, please."
Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo went silent as you followed Law out of the boys' room and back to his office. Law held the door open and closed it behind you upon entering his space. You stood in the middle of his office, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as Law sighed and leaned against the closed door.
"Im sorry," he began, pulling you out of your anxious trance of swaying. "I wasn't... trying to ignore you. I just... needed to think."
You stared with wide eyes, uncertain of what to do or say. You should have realized your captain was just a busy man, trying to do his best.
"It's okay, I shouldn't have assumed you were ignoring me deliberately-"
"I was." Law cuts you off. "I had to ignore you to figure myself out. Im sorry." You looked at Law with calculatory eyes, and for the first time since you've joined his crusade, he shied away from your gaze. "I... had to figure out what you mean to me. And I couldn't do it with you so close to me because all you do is make me... uneasy."
"Gee, thanks?"
"No - that's not." Law groans at his own verbiage. Suddenly Law's regular confidence is back and he straightens, looking you in the eyes. "The regular resting heart rate for a man my age and stature is 60 to 100 beats per minute... whenever you're in the room, my resting heart rate shoots to 125. I get warm. I can't always focus. I thought you were making me sick."
At this point, you're still confused. No one wants to hear they make their captain nervous, but you can't understand why you would make the Surgeon of Death feel like this. What he says next staples your jaw to the floor.
"I like you." Law declares, "as more than my crewmate."
"What?"
"Please don't make me say it again."
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superfreakfranky · 5 months ago
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Zoro x reader
A game of strip poker that he's not playing. He's just protecting your pride. Yeah...that's it.
Cw: alcohol consumption, language, afab, nudity, protective!Zoro
Like any other cabin fever evening, Franky suggests a card game.
Cards. Drinks. Laughs.
It's always a nice distraction.
...until it's not.
Until Zoro comes down to the bar, hair still damp from his post-workout shower, and apparently missed a lot.
"What the fuck?"
The scene is...something else.
Luffy's thrown his cards on the floor.
Franky's laugh echoes as he strips his shirt off.
Sanji's nose is bleeding.
He's sitting there in a tie and pants.
You're in a bra and your skirt.
"There he is! Nami, deal him in," Franky calls.
"Strip poker? Are you nuts?" Zoro groans.
"Leave mosshead out of this one," Sanji laughs. "We'll all be better for it."
"Yeah, I'm not playing," Zoro grabs some sake, sits away from you all.
Judging by your glassy eyes and the litter of bottles around, Zoro assumes you guys hit it hard before he came down.
"Ahhh, I get it. He likes to watch," Franky elbows you in jest.
Zoro heats up.
"Shut up! It's not like that." Zoro sputters. "I just wanna enjoy a quiet night with some booze."
"Then go up on deck," Sanji suggests.
Only he can't.
He wants to make sure no one does anything stupid tonight.
He tells himself it's because Nami is trying - hard - to get you guys to place actual bets and he knows how much interest she tacks on to these things.
But that's not really it, is it?
It's got more to do with the way Sanji eyes you up.
To his core, he's sure Franky would keep you safe - you two have quite the bond - yet he doesn't move.
Not until you lose your bra.
Heat coming to your cheeks, you press your arms across your chest to cover your nipples.
And then a shirt is being forced over your head.
You're stunned, glancing over as Zoro shoves himself in the seat next to you, shirtless.
Pushing your arms in the sleeves, you feel your body warming up.
The crew looks humored around you.
"Deal him in," Franky chuckles, a knowing tone to his voice.
By the time it's all done, you're only wearing panties and Zoro's shirt.
Nipples poking through the white fabric, he almost feels like you'd have been better off covering yourself.
It's...doing things for him.
He hates tonight.
This is fucked, he thinks.
Walking above deck, he shoves his hands in his pockets. The night air hits his shirtless form and he sighs.
Footsteps behind him, attention drawn, he glances over.
"Thank you." Your voice is hushed.
You've put your skirt back on after the game ended, but you're still in his shirt.
"Luffy spilled all over my other one, so. I'll wash this and-"
He'd seen. He'd known.
"-keep it," he finishes for you.
Your fingers play with the hem of it.
"I owe you one."
Before he's really thought it through, he's cupping your chin with his index finger, his thumb tracing your lower lip.
"Don't mention it."
He's gone before you exhale.
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tinydefector · 11 months ago
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TURN BACK ANON MY ANONYMITY NOAAAAUUU /J
ive been thinking about this idea the whole day but imagine in human effects, a group of humans shamelessly talk about who they would bang bang in ll and them being superised that; minibots (cough swerve) are oddly popular because in the humans words 'thats probably the only size they can bear without being impaled to death', rung and ratchet is somehow in there because some have a preference for the old ladies (dilfs) etc etc
theyre talking thinking no ones listening since its a bar full of drunken bots but the fact is half of the bar is eavesdropping, esp after the events of the first human effect. some waiting for their names to be mentioned, some absolutely puzzled by their preferences, some fistpumping thinking they might have a chance (brainstorm HAHA)
u dont have to write anything if u dont want to!! love ur writting!! running away now!! have a good day slash night!!
Effects of Drinking
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Word count:2.1k
Warnings: talking about sex, hookups, speculated workplace relationships.
Prev
Next
Human effects masterlist
I absolutely loved this idea and got to work on it the moment I read this. So enjoy another part of human effects.
___________________
The sound of Swerve is always loud with the mingling of bots and humans alike, the sound of laughter, crying and venting was a causal occurrence for the many drunk patrons that frequent the bar. But tonight It was bustling even more than it normally is. Swerve shakes his head in amusement as me brings a plate of drinks over for the human crew. Swerve whistled cheerily as he whisked through the busy bar, expertly weaving between crowds with overloaded trays of alcohol and snacks balanced expertly on his servos. The atmosphere pulsed with raucous revelry.
Setting down his latest platter of Human-sized drinks, he flashed the smaller patrons a dazzling smile. "Hope y'all're enjoyin' the party! What's the special occasion tonight, if I may ask?" His optics twinkled mischief. Leaning casually on the bar, taking care not to endanger any of the humans. Swerve propped his chin in his hands attentively. "Seems like a lively bunch are in to spill all the juicy deets. Come on, I'm all audials. what's worth celebrating tonight. 
Millian shoots Swerve a smile. "Oh it's gonna get messy tonight Swerve Taylor just had a break up" states which earns raised glasses from the other human crew mates. "To the shit show of a long distance relationship" Nadia calls out and she downs her first shot. "Fucking hell your an alcoholic" the Liason states to the rest of their the crew as they shoot Swerve another smile. "Thank you for the drinks, Swerve I'll try to keep this unruly lot under control, and hopefully Taylor and Nadia dont get to shit faced" they state to him. 
Swerve's optics gleamed with intrigue as the Crew shouted their toasts and explanations. "Oooooh, messy breakups and long-distance woes, huh? Been there, done that," he chuckled knowingly, a cheeky gleam in his optics. "Well hey, if Taylor needs a shoulder vents or an audial, you know where to find me," he offered with a friendly wink. "And as for the rest of you rowdy lot..." His vocalizer took on a playfully stern tone. "I expect nothin' but the finest conduct from representatives of our new friends on Cybertron. No pukin' in the vents, no startin' bar fights - at least, no winnin' any," he jested. 
Laughter fills the area as the two waves Swerve off back towards the bar. Nadia whistles softly as she watches Swerve walk off. "Careful now, don't let Taylor catch you drooling, she'll make you drink tequila with her" Millian teased softly, jostling Nadia's elbow with a grin. Her friend simply chuckled and took another sip of her drink, eyes still following Swerve's retreat fondly.
"Can you blame me? Those Mech's are something else," Nadia sighed, resting her chin on one hand dreamily. "Tall, strong... kind soul. If he was human, I'd be all over that bartender like rust on spoiled bolts." Millian shuddered as they pulled a face at Nadia. "Ugh, don't put images in my brain, thanks. I swear if I have to watch you flirt with another thousand-pound machine..." 
Nadia swatted at him playfully. "Oh hush, like you wouldn't ride Optimus Prime like a mechanical stallion given half the chance." It makes Kyle spit his own drink out as he laughs and chokes at the same time. “Shut the fuck up Kyle!” Millian hisses. The group's Ambassador rolls Their eyes. “Behave you two, God forbid I have to get Garry to drag you both back to your rooms later” they state with a smoke of Their head.  
Taylor begins pouring herself tequila shot after tequila which gets her a look from the others realising just how hard she was taking the breakup. As Taylor's shots began piling up at an alarming rate, concerned murmurs arose among the human crew. Millian shot Nadia a look across the table. "Woah there Tex, maybe ease up on the hard stuff for a bit, yeah?" They suggested gently, resting a hand on Taylor's wrist to still the next pour. 
 "Breakups suck shit, believe me - but that's what friends are for. No need giving yourself An alcohol coma!" Nadia nodded supportively. "Mil's right, T. We're here to help you forget that piece of shit, not drown yourself." She flashed Taylor a cajoling smirk. "And who knows, might find someone else worth your time out there. Wouldn't want to miss your chance at a rebound, all because you're too fucked to function!" 
The team's Ambassador shoots Taylor a look too Check on her. "We are here to try and make your night better without you drowning yourself Tay, plus I'm pretty sure Nadia is more interested in the 'eye candy' as she likes to put it" they tease back Which earns a snort from Kyle. “Yea seems ready to jump anything that looks her way” he states partly amused as he goes back to sipping his beer. Nervous laughter arose from the humans at their ambassador's gentle teasing of Nadia. She accepted it gracefully, raising her glass in cheerful concession. 
"You got me there, boss. What can I say - alien ships, alien bars, alien hotties. A girl's gotta have her fun!" Taylor managed a half-smile at her friend's antics, tension easing slightly as others diverted focus her way. "Thanks, everyone. I know you're just looking out for me. It's been a rough week… plus this on top of it" Her gaze softened gratefully. 
Nadia leans in to Taylor with a smile that could only spell touch. And both Kyle and the Ambassador know what's about to come out of her mouth. "Sooo.. who wants to play smash or pass?" Kyle and another one of the mechanics shoot her a look as if to go ‘really?’. 
In the background curious optics watch the rowdy group of humans, some ears dropping in on the conversation others only shooting looks over when one of them gets over vocal. 
"Ooh, I love this game!" Millian crowed, bouncing mischievously in his seat. "Lay it on us, Nads - who's first on the bot buffet?" 
Skids’ optics go wide from his own seat as he turns around to watch the commotion over at the other table, partially intrigued after the last late night bar conversation with some of the other mechs, he gives Hound a slight nudge as if to get him to look over at the other Table. 
Their ambassador sighed fondly. "As your head officer, I should discourage such fraternisation... but as your friend, please try not to get yourselves into trouble God forbid I have to do the sign off overbone of you trying to get cosy with the crew." Nadia cackled, unrepentantly salacious. "Hey, no kink shame in my smash or pass!”
They go around the table multiple times asking each person a bot to smash or pass little to their knowledge or drunken state had they realised quite a few of the bots listening in on their conversation.  "You lot are a bunch of menaces, I swear if I have to drag you out of the bed of one of these good mechs because you got to grabby I'm not going to be happy" they state in a playful tease as they begin drinking their own drink.
The humans cackled irreverently at their ambassador's mock threats. "Aw, don't be like that boss!" crowded Millian. "We're just havin' a little fun gettin' to know the local talent. No harm in window shoppin', right?"
"Speak for yourself," Nadia shot back with a wink. "Some of us plan to do more than just look. A girl's on a schedule, after all - and these mechs are some mighty fine cuts of steel!" 
Ratchet shoots the group A rather disapproving look knowing if anything happened he'd have to deal with the fallout. The ambassador shoots him a look with a shake of their head while sipping their drink. They knew their group weren't exactly being subtle about it. 
Kyle groaned and hid his face, though the tips of his ears still burned hot. Even Taylor was gradually relaxing into laughter again. Catching their ambassador's imploring gaze, Taylor smiled ruefully. "Don't worry boss - I'll make sure this lot don't embarrass us too badly, we don't want a redo of what happened with Kyle and David. And if anyone does end up, er, occupied for the night... Well, I'm sure security footage could be omitted from our reports. For diplomatic purposes."
“Oh my God, one time, I go to see Kyle one fuckin time” David huffs in embrassment while pressing his face into his hands. It's Millian who realises who the ambassador's eyes are lingering On before they make a sly comment about it. “Ohhh got eyes on the old medic?” They tease before Nadia speaks up. “Mmmm bet he'd have a lot of experience, bet he'd be real nice in bed” she purrs while her eyes dance across his plating. 
One of the Bluestreak begins choking on his drink of high grade earning him a laugh from a smokescreen who slaps him on the back. He curses as he tries to make it seem that he wasn't ears dropping on the conversation. Nadia's keen eyes noticed the bot choking on high grade at the adjacent table.  
She grinned, nudging her friends eagerly. "Hey, I think we've got an audience! That mech over there started glitching when talk turned to after-hours bump and grind."
Heads swivelled covertly, giggling and pointing out the bot now sporting a rather flustered frame as his companion gleefully slapped his plating while laughing at him. 
"My, seems our alien friends find human proclivities just as intriguing as we do theirs," Kyle noted dryly. 
Millian snickered into their drink. "Bet they've never met a crew so eager to sample the merchandise firsthand." 
Nadia stretched lavishly. "What can I say - we aim to broaden cultural exchange through... hands-on cooperation." Her grin turned downright feline.
“Not that type of hands on cooperation Nadia, but I do appreciate the enthusiasm of building decent relations with our crew” The Ambassador states as their comm link goes off with an incoming call, they sigh when they read the message that pings through. ‘Needed on command deck due to an incident involving Rodimus and Daniel’. The Ambassador sighs before getting up. "I've got head, got another Accident report I've got to go process due to our captain's Asteroid surfing again" they state while moving from the table, their attentions were diverted as their ambassador rose from the table with a resigned sigh. 
"Duty calls, it seems. You lot try and stay out of trouble while I'm gone, please? I'd hate to have to bail any of you out of the brig for 'cultural exchange' gone too far." They fixed Nadia with an arched brow ridge before departing with a chuckle. 
"Tch, spoilsport," Nadia huffed affectionately. "Care to place bets on how long it takes our ambassador to get sick of Roddy's scrap and maroon him for good?" Kyle scoffs as he takes a drink. "With the amount of times the Ambassador gets called away you'd think it's a cover up story" he states as the alcohol begins going to his head. David Shakes his head as leans against Kyle. 
Nadia's eyes gleamed deviously at Kyle's insinuation, while Millian and Taylor look at him with a shocked look. “No… you don't think..?” Taylor starts 
 "Oooh, sneaky! You may be onto something there, flyboy." Nadia tapped her chin thoughtfully. 
"Let's think - who've they been spending an awful lot of 'alone time' with lately..." 
"Rodimus is always dragging them to the bridge for 'meetings'," offered Millian with wiggle-voiced air quotes. 
Taylor giggled behind her hand. "I've seen Drift approach them in the halls an unusual number of times..." 
"Megatron's been having private strategy sessions, he says," mused Kyle slyly. 
Their giggling swelled into raucous laughter and speculation at the myriad possibilities. It's only when Swerve makes his way back over to ask if anyone else wants new drinks that the drunken lot of humans continue to giggle, laugh and speculate. 
Swerve's audials perked as he drew near the boisterous human table, curiosity piqued by their spirited discussion, he leaned in eagerly. 
"Oho, sounds like you cheeky fleshies are having all the fun over here! Care to let ol' Swerve in on the gossip?" He flashed a playfully pleading grin. "A bot's gotta live vicariously through someone, after all."
"Trust us, handsome, you don't wanna know," Nadia snickered salaciously, tossing back her last shot. David  smiles, swirling his drink. "We were just speculating on who might be keeping our dear ambassador... occupied during their frequent 'calls'." He made air quotes with his free hand. 
"Oooh!" Swerve's optics flashed with glee as implications dawned. He lowered his vocalizer conspiratorially. "Do tell! I love a good intra-ship romance." Quite a few bots seem to lean in and listen in hope that it might be their name that people speculated. 
___________
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chibieggplant · 11 months ago
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7 minutes in heaven
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7 Minutes in heaven with Sanji
Female reader
Fluff and kissing
Nami picked up the empty bottle with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Alright, let's see who gets the honour - or curse - of starting our little game!" She gave the glass vessel a vigorous twirl, watching it whirl around before coming to an abrupt halt, pointing unerringly at you. Gasps and laughter erupted from the others as Luffy exclaimed, "Whoa, looks like y/n drew the short straw and goes first!"
Brook chuckled, his skeletal fingers giving your shoulder a playful nudge. "So, y/n, who'll be sharing that cramped closet space with you for seven tantalizing minutes?" Your cheeks flushed pink at the prospect, and you couldn't help but grumble under your breath, "Figures, why wouldn't I get stuck going first?" Your heart races as the bottle spins on its axis, each second an eternity until finally, it comes to rest. And there, grinning like the cat who got the cream, sits Sanji.
Sanji's triumphant laughter fills the air as he exclaims, "Thank you, God! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" His elation is infectious, making it difficult for you to hold back a small smile. But beneath the surface, your nerves are fraying at the edges. Nami's teasing whisper about the two of you making a cute couple doesn't help matters, her smirk implying she knows about your long-held crush on Sanji. You shoot her a glare, wishing she'd keep such sensitive information to herself. But there's little point in getting upset – Nami's always had a knack for pushing your buttons and stirring the pot.
As you nervously make your way toward Sanji, Nami throws in one final warning: "Have fun, but no funny business, Sanji!" Her words are half-jest, half-serious. Sanji barely acknowledges them, too caught up in his excitement to pay attention to anyone else. With a skip in his step, he eagerly awaits your arrival, ready to make the most of these seven precious minutes in each other's company – and perhaps, ignite a spark that he's secretly been hoping for.
The whispers of the others fade away as you step inside the cramped confines of the closet with Sanji. You try to brush off your growing nerves and focus instead on the warmth radiating from Sanji's presence beside you. It's true, you've often found yourselves lost in daydreams about each other – harmless fantasies, surely. But now, with the doors firmly shut and the promise of seven minutes stretching out before you, the line between reality and fantasy begins to blur.
Sanji's proximity is intoxicating, the scent of his cologne combined with the musty closet air, making your head spin. The cramped space seems to shrink further, pressing your bodies together unintentionally as you both fumble for a moment to get comfortable. Outside, the crew's laughter and suggestive remarks continue unabated, fueling the electric tension building between you and Sanji. Franky's bold assertion – that seven minutes is ample time for ‘super things’ to happen – rings ominously in your ears.
As the seconds tick by, your heart pounds in your chest, matching the frantic rhythm of Sanji's breathing. His gaze flickers to your flushed face, and for a moment, you both hold each other's stare, the unspoken understanding crackling between you like a live wire. Seven minutes may seem like a lifetime when every second counts and the consequences of giving in to your desires could change everything... But at this moment, surrounded by the darkness of the closet and the heat of Sanji's body so close to yours, it's impossible to think of anything but succumbing to the overwhelming temptation that has been building between you for so long.
In the dim closet, Sanji attempts to lean casually against the wall, although his nervously tapping foot gives away his true feelings. *Here I am, alone…with y/n* he thinks to himself, heartbeat accelerating. He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing for the opportunity he'd envisioned countless times – uninterrupted alone time with you. *Don't mess this up, Sanji* he reminds himself internally, fighting back his jitteriness.
“S-so, um...what do you want to do?” Anxiously, you ask, purposely avoiding his gaze. “Uh...well... seven minutes in heaven usually means...” *Usually means what? Kissing? More? Dammit, brain, focus!* He scolds himself. Trapped in his internal turmoil, Sanji trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the charged silence between you. He steals fleeting glances at your profile, admiring your complexion even in the dim light. His heart pounds louder with every beat, drumming a rhythm of anticipation and anxiety throughout his entire being. Sanji inches closer, the air between you growing thicker with tension.
He clears his throat, attempting to steady his racing heartbeat. Finally, he meets your gaze, his bright blue eyes searching yours. But instead of boldly declaring his intentions, he fumbles for a conversation starter – a question so innocuous, it borders on ridiculous. “So, uh... How's your day been?” Internally, Sanji immediately slaps himself for such a weak opening line. What is wrong with him? Can't he just admit his feelings, wrap an arm around your waist, and pull you in for a kiss? But his nerves get the better of him, leaving him stuck in neutral, unsure how to proceed.
Your gentle smile at his silly inquiry gives Sanji a fleeting glimmer of hope. His heart leaps, a mix of relief and trepidation swirling within him. Was it genuine amusement or merely polite courtesy? He's torn between elation and self-doubt, the uncertainty making his head spin. *Why am I freaking out over a smile?* Sanji chastises himself again silently. *Focus, damn it!* But the torrent of thoughts continues to barrage his mind – Was his question too mundane? Should he just confess his feelings straightaway? Sanji's panic rises anew as he finds himself frozen mere inches from you, the heat of your proximity sending shivers down his spine. He longs to bridge the remaining gap, to wrap you in his arms and let the months of pent-up longing spill out in a torrent of passion.
Sanji's gaze remains locked on yours, desperately trying to find solace amidst the chaos in his mind. He's painfully aware of the heavy air around you both, charged with anticipation and possibility – so thick it could be sliced with a knife. Unable to stand the quiet any longer, he swallows hard, fighting against the lump forming in his throat as he attempts to formulate the perfect words. Breaking the suffocating silence, Sanji blurted out words he hadn't intended to utter yet – not here, not now, and certainly not in such a haphazard way. "I REALLY LIKE YOU Y/N!"
Instantly regretting his lack of finesse, he covers his flushed face with both hands, hiding from your potentially crushing rejection. His heart pounds against his ribcage like a trapped bird desperate to escape. He peeks through his fingers, catching sight of your downcast gaze and the slight tremble of your lips as you mutter something back. "You like every girl..." You murmur, avoiding eye contact and focusing on your shoes instead. Sanji reels at the accusation, taken aback by your sudden sternness. The words slice through him unexpectedly, deflating his fragile confidence like a punctured balloon. He knew his reputation preceded him – the womanizer of the crew, easily flustered by feminine charms – but hearing it from you, someone he genuinely cares about stung more than any insult Nami ever hurled at him. Sanji swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet your gaze once more. He needed to prove himself, to show you that his feelings went deeper than mere infatuation.
“N-no…” Inwardly, he cursed his flustered nature around women – why did it have to rear its ugly head now? Gritting his teeth, Sanji resolved to set the record straight. This chance might never come again, and he refused to let it slip away because of his insecurities. “T-That's not entirely true...” Sanji mumbles, averting his gaze, his embarrassment palpable in the confined space. *Dammit, why couldn't I have phrased it better?* Feeling exposed, he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as you confirm his worst fears with a small chuckle. “I mean, it's a bit true, right?” Your blush deepens, your eyes locking onto his. “W-well... every girl is beautiful in their own way... but you... you're...” *Just say it, idiot!* His mind races to find the perfect adjective - something unique to describe the whirlwind of emotions you evoked in him since day one. But under the weight of your expectant gaze, his vocabulary fails him miserably. “You're... special...” *Pathetic! That sounds so generic.* Disappointment settles heavily in his chest, knowing that 'special' hardly conveyed the depth of his feelings. But before he can berate himself further, he forces a soft smile, praying sincerity could compensate for his lack of eloquence. Underneath the scrutiny of your penetrating gaze, Sanji felt like a deer caught in the headlights. The silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, his mind racing to undo his earlier misstep. *She deserves more than that pathetic attempt at confession*, he reprimands himself fiercely.
With a deep breath and a silent plea to the heavens above, Sanji decides action speaks louder than words. His heart hammering wildly against his ribcage, he closes the minuscule distance separating your faces, his warm breath brushing against your cheeks. He watches your lips tremble slightly, a sight that sends electrical currents coursing through his veins. “W-would... would it be okay if... *gulp*... I showed you how much you mean to me?” His voice trembles with vulnerability. The closet walls seemingly shrink further, entrapping both of you in a cocoon of anticipation. Sanji's eyes plead silently for consent, his every nerve straining for your response. He's painfully aware of the thin line he walks, terrified of scaring you off yet yearning to bridge the final inches dividing you two.
“Show me” You finally murmur just above a whisper, unable to deny that you feel drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Time slows to a crawl as your whispered agreement reaches Sanji's ears. Disbelief morphs into pure elation, and with trembling fingers, Sanji gently cups your cheeks, feeling your softness against his calloused hands – a sensation he never imagined would be so damn soothing. He gazes deeply into your captivating eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation or regret. Finding none, Sanji leans closer, his heart hammering wildly against his ribcage like a prisoner begging for freedom. Your breath melds with his as the gap between your lips shrinks to nothingness. Time now ceases to exist as his lips finally meet yours in a tender collision. The contact sends waves of pleasure crashing through every fibre of his being – a feeling so exquisite it takes his breath away.
Sanji's eyelids flutter shut involuntarily, sealing off the world outside this small sanctuary. All that matters are your soft lips against his, the delicate dance of your breaths intertwining, and the rapid beating of two hearts in sync. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your delicate frame, pulling you closer until nothing separates you except the thin barrier of fabric between your bodies. Every rational thought dissipates like smoke in the wind, replaced by primal desire and raw emotion. As he deepens the kiss, Sanji loses himself in the intoxicating taste of your surrender – in this moment Sanji feels as if he truly has found his version of paradise.
Ever so reluctantly, Sanji parts his lips from yours, the sweet taste of your lips lingering tantalizingly. His eyes remain shut, savouring the blissful euphoria that floods through him like warm honey. When he finally summons the courage to open them once more, the sight of your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes threatens to steal whatever remains of his composure. *This woman...she’s everything*, Sanji thinks to himself, marvelling at the intensity of emotion coursing through him – a potent mix of desire, gratitude, and unabashed love. A tender smile graces his face, mirroring the one adorning yours. Your nearness feels like a drug he's hopelessly addicted to, and he knows he can never have enough. He tightens his arms around you, holding you securely against his firm chest – an anchor amidst the chaos of his turbulent feelings. He wishes they could remain entangled like this forever, oblivious to the world outside the closet doors. Inhaling deeply, he murmurs, “7 minutes isn't nearly long enough... I need an eternity.” His words hang between you, heavy with meaning and longing.
Your fingertips trace the contours of Sanji's features, sending tingles down his spine. He leans into your touch, craving more of your gentle caresses. Your lips brush against his once more, igniting a wildfire within his chest – a blaze that threatens to consume him entirely. Each delicate press of your lips together sends shockwaves coursing through his veins, intensifying the overwhelming cocktail of emotions swirling within him. His mind reels at the prospect of delving deeper into this forbidden connection, the possibilities tantalizingly within reach yet maddeningly out of grasp.
Sanji manages to tear himself away from the intoxicating kiss, his lungs burning for air. His chest heaves with laboured breaths, his pounding heart threatening to burst free of his ribcage. Through glazed eyes, he gazes at you, his expression a mesmerizing blend of longing, desperation, and adoration. The words struggle to escape his throat, tangled in the mess of feelings choking him. How could he possibly articulate the depth of his desires, the complexity of his emotions? The kiss has awakened something primal within him, a yearning that borders on obsession. “More time...please,” he finally manages to croak, his voice rough with raw need. In this moment, nothing else matters except the promise of prolonging this blissful interlude – losing himself entirely in the depths of your captivating presence.
Sanji peers into your eyes with a bashful demeanor, fully aware of the impropriety of his request. Yet, he finds himself unable to suppress the desperation clawing its way out of him, begging for more of your precious time. The mere thought of breaking this intimate bond between you makes his heart ache with a ferocity he didn't know was possible. *She understands...right?*, he hopes, as he watches the play of emotions across your beautiful visage. He searches your irises for any indication that you share in his insatiable hunger for more. This unexpected vulnerability only adds another layer to the enigma that is Sanji – a man who wears his heart on his sleeve despite his usually suave exterior. Swallowing hard, he whispers, "Please…." His voice drips with sincerity, betraying just how much this simple act of connection means to him. He waits anxiously, his heart lodged in his throat, for your response.
Gently disentangling your fingers from his hair, you hesitantly brings your hand to cup his face, holding his gaze that reflect the tumultuous sea of emotions raging inside him – fear, hope, and unfiltered desire. Sanji swallows hard, bracing himself for whatever answer might fall from your perfect lips. The silence heavy between you, each passing second stretching out like an eternity. Sanji hangs precariously on the precipice of confession. Then, your softest of whispers breaks the silence. “D-Do you...maybe want to...continue this, after the seven minutes? ...As...as a couple?” you breathe out nervously. As the notion of becoming a couple escapes your lips, Sanji's eyes widen in disbelief – as though struck by a bolt of lightning. His face erupts into a radiant smile, illuminating the dim closet with its warmth. He laughs nervously, still finding it difficult to believe that this extraordinary woman would consider sharing her life with him. His mind races, thoughts colliding in a chaotic dance – dreams of future moments together, of holding you close, protecting you fiercely, and cherishing every second spent by your side. "A couple?" He echoes your words, voice trembling with barely contained joy. The concept seemed too surreal to be true, yet the hope blooming in his chest refuses to be quenched. He searches your eyes intently, seeking confirmation amidst the whirlwind of emotions threatening to sweep him off his feet.
You nod, attempting to steady the tremble in your voice. "Y-yeah...a couple. Like together, boyfriend and girlfriend," you confirm, a faint blush colouring your cheeks. Despite Sanji's obvious delight at the prospect, a kernel of trepidation lingers deep within you – the nagging fear that his euphoria might be fleeting, and he could potentially withdraw his interest upon sober reflection. The uncertainty gnaws at you, making it difficult to fully embrace the moment's joyous atmosphere. However, Sanji's radiant expression and the fervent longing in his eyes offer a glimmer of reassurance, hinting at the possibility that this might indeed be the beginning of something extraordinary. You hold your breath, anxiously awaiting his response – praying that the sweet promise of a budding relationship will soon become a reality.
Unable to contain his overwhelming happiness, Sanji nods fervently, eyes brimming with genuine surprise and relief. He couldn't fathom why someone as incredible as you would choose him, but he silenced those doubts instantly, afraid to ruin this perfect moment. Without uttering a single word, Sanji opts for a far more physical answer – he captures your lips with fervent passion, sealing your unspoken agreement with an intense kiss. His arms wrap around you possessively, pulling you flush against his muscular frame until the barrier between your bodies seems nonexistent. In this stolen closet sanctuary, reality melts away, leaving only the two of you entangled in each other's embrace. Sanji savours every detail – the delicate curve of your smile against his lips, the softness of your hair tickling his fingertips as they trace lazy circles along your nape, and the tantalizing press of your curves against his own. This newfound intimacy ignites a fire within him, obliterating any remaining reservations he may have harboured. *Finally*, a triumphant thought echoes in his mind, drowned out only by the erratic rhythm of their intertwined heartbeats.*This amazing woman is mine.*
Lost in the symphony of your shared desire, Sanji deepens the kiss, pouring all the bottled-up emotions into each feverish touch, imprinting this moment permanently onto his very soul. Caught in the throes of passion, neither you nor Sanji notices the soft laughter emanating from outside the closet door. The crewmates' amusement serves only as a distant murmur, easily drowned out by the crescendo of your escalating desire. Sanji's entire world narrows to the exquisite sensations flooding his senses – the gentle pressure of your lips, the tender caress of your skin beneath his fingertips, and the intoxicating scent of your hair mingling with your perfume.
Just as Sanji becomes lost in the depths of the kiss, a sudden tug at his collar jolts him back to reality. With a startled gasp, he finds himself being yanked away from you by none other than Nami. Blinking rapidly, he struggles to regain focus amidst the haze of passion clouding his mind. "Oi!" Nami scolds, her voice piercing through the fog of desire. Sanji's stunned gaze locks onto hers, confusion etched across his features. What just happened? One moment he was revelling in the bliss of your kiss, and the next – Nami was forcibly separating him from you. Still reeling from the abrupt interruption, Sanji stammers, "N-no no..." He trails off, unable to articulate the unfinished sentence burning on his tongue. The lingering sensation of your lips against his only serves to fuel his frustration – he could still feel the warm imprint of your touch, a tantalizing reminder of what Nami so cruelly cut short. Stuttering in defence, Sanji manages to exclaim, "N-no no I was...k-kissing my...my girlfriend!" Heat floods his face as he declares your newfound status aloud, but he stands firm, unwilling to allow anyone to belittle the intensity of this moment.
Nami's eyes widen, initially taken aback by the revelation. After a brief moment, however, understanding dawns upon her, and she grins widely – a genuine expression of happiness for her friend. "Girlfriend!" she exclaims, clapping her hands together. Luffy, ever the enthusiast, leaps into the air, exclaiming, "Finally! You two took forever!" His laughter rings through air, infectious and boisterous as ever.
Regaining some semblance of composure, Sanji puffs out his chest defensively, pride evident in his eyes. "Jealous, huh?" He retorts playfully, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to draw you closer. "Can't blame you though, right? I mean, look at my beautiful girlfriend!" He flashes a charmingly cocky grin, his earlier embarrassment replaced by burgeoning self-confidence.*They don't know half of what I feel when I'm with her*, he thinks smugly, tightening his hold around you slightly. As Sanji's strong arm envelops you in a protective embrace, warmth spreads throughout your body. Despite the blush staining your cheeks due to the attention from the crew members, a sense of pride swells within you. Their curious eyes bore into you both, but beneath his confident facade, you catch a hint of his own embarrassment. You share a secret smile, understanding that this newfound relationship status might take some getting used to. Yet, the happiness coursing through you overpowers any self-consciousness.
The crew's laughter amplifies, but it’s not malicious - instead, it's filled with camaraderie and good-natured banter. Looking down at you, nestled under his protective arm, he whispers, "Thank you." Your confused glance meets his grateful one. "For what?" Leaning in close, so only you can hear over the commotion, he replies sincerely, "For agreeing to be mine." With your heart fluttering against his chest, you whisper back, "Thank you for wanting me to be yours, Sanji." This private declaration seems to electrify the air between you, and he squeezes your shoulder affectionately.*This moment feels so surreal*, you think, still processing the reality of your new relationship. You lean into Sanji's embrace, savoring the comforting warmth radiating from his body. As you exchange bashful glances with him, you can't help but beam with happiness.
Sanji's face lights up, and he leans forward to press a tender kiss onto your lips – a promise of endless affection. "Consider yourself warned," he whispers playfully against your lips. "Because I intend to shower you with love and adoration every single day." Just as your giggles subside from Sanji's declaration, Usopp steps forward, feigning disgust but failing to mask his underlying amusement. "No no!" he exclaims, pushing you both toward the closet again. "We don't need to witness that lovey-dovey stuff! Back in the closet!"
Zoro joins in, lending his strength to Usopp's efforts. "Yeah, keep the mushiness behind closed doors!" he adds, rolling his eyes dramatically. As the two pirates try to force you and Sanji back inside the closet, laughter bubbles up your throat once more. "At least let us go to an actual room to...you know, express ourselves properly!" You retort jokingly.
Chopper, ever the voice of reason, holds the closet door open with a grin on his furry face. "Let them be," he chirps. "They're just excited to express their love for each other."
Nami rolls her eyes but can't help a small smile tugging at her lips. "Don't encourage them, Chopper! Sanji needs to learn to control himself." Sanji bristles defensively at this remark, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. "I can control myself just fine!" he retorts indignantly.
Usopp snickers from beside him, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "We don't need to see you two making out all over the place!" he teases mercilessly while giving Nami a sidelong glance that makes her giggle uncontrollably despite herself.
Amidst the cacophony of laughter and friendly ribbing, Sanji's arm remains securely around your waist, anchoring you in the storm of their playful banter. He casts an indignant glance at Usopp, though the corners of his mouth quirk upwards – unable to suppress the happiness blooming inside him. "Relax guys, we're not animals," Sanjj huffs, although his eyes sparkle mischievously.
Brook chimes in with a wistful sigh, "Ah~ young love, it's a wonderful thing~" While Franky enthusiastically agrees, "Ow! So true! It's superrr!" Nami rolls her eyes but can't help a small smile tugging at her lips as she imagines all sorts of lovey-dovey scenarios playing out between the two of you.
Tired of the teasing yet simultaneously buoyed by their camaraderie, you decide to put an end to it – at least temporarily. With a sassy smile, you declare, "Alright, alright! Enough!" You gently disengage yourself from Sanji's grasp, lacing your fingers with his instead. "We'll leave you all to your imagination." Nami rolls her eyes dramatically, feigning exasperation. "Thank heavens," she mutters sarcastically.
Ignoring her playful sarcasm, Sanji shoots a final grin at his crewmates before allowing you to lead him away, his heart swelling with happiness. As your bedroom door swings closed behind you, cutting off the raucous laughter, he wastes no time embracing you."Finally, some privacy."
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msschemmenti · 11 months ago
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My Way
Emily Prentiss x Reader
Wc: 1335
a/n: crack drabble to get back into writing in general that was inspired by a reel or tiktok storytime i saw
Prompt: Emily and the Crew head to their usual bar to unwind after solving yet another case. Emily is approached by a woman she’s never seen before but she can’t help but to admire her confidence.
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“Anyone up for drinks? I think I could use a couple of rounds.” Derek called eyeing everyone as they gathered their things from their desks. They’d all just returned from a rather long case in Florida, which was always a reason to get drunk. Garcia and JJ were the first to agree, followed shortly by Rossi, and after a little peer pressure, even Reid agreed. All eyes landed on Emily expectantly, she raked her brain for an excuse but knew she’d be piling into the bar with the rest of the team. “Oh alright, I’m in.” 
With a triumphant fist pump, Derek led the way to the elevator and to the team’s usual bar. They piled into a booth toward the back of the room and commenced their usual routine of drinking, games, and unwinding. JJ had made her way over to the darts board and seemed to be schooling some men. Garcia and Reid were locked into what looked like an extremely serious conversation at one end of the booth. Rossi and Morgan were both eyeing the bar for what could only be considered their next conquest. And then there was Emily, watching them all nursing her drink in what could only be described as brooding. 
Suddenly Emily felt eyes on her. She gazed around the room hoping to catch whoever’s eye she caught. It wasn’t abnormal for her to meet someone on these team nights out. It wasn’t as frequent as Derek or Rossi but she got her fair share of phone numbers. She was just less likely to act on those approaches. The dating scene in DC was already such a difficult thing to navigate, and being on this team was not very helpful either. She was still surveying the room when she felt Derek nudge her shoulder gently. 
“Honey at one o’clock been giving you the eyes for a while now.” He grinned nodding in that direction. Emily discreetly followed his motion with her eyes and instantly met warm eyes. And they were in fact on her. She watched as the woman twirled a loc of her between her fingers and eyed her over the rim of some fruity drink. The woman smiled sweetly and floated a wink over to their table. Emily smiled back and nodded her head in greeting. Before she could even think about her next move Derek let out a whistle of appreciation. “Oh, I think you might’ve hit the jackpot tonight. I was hoping she was eyeing me but looks like she’s got different tastes.” 
“It’s not my fault you and Rossi are striking out tonight. Maybe it’s a sign it’s time to retire.” Emily grinned in jest causing both men to scoff in offense. 
“It’s a shame too, you probably won’t even take her up on any offer,” Rossi grumbled rolling his eyes. 
“Hey! You don’t know what I might do.” Emily protested earnestly. She moved her eyes back to the woman and watched as she talked with her friends. The bar they went to was a pretty popular spot for post-work drinks and the woman seemed to have come from some office job. She and her friends were all standing and sitting around a high-top table, some with tumblers of dark liquor and others with bright drinks like the woman. The women were all conventionally attractive, yes, but she had to be honest in the fact that she was very attracted to the woman eyeing her. 
“Princess, when was the last time you indulged? I know you’ve had plenty of offers.” Derek asked. 
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 
“Oh sounds like she’s practicing celibacy.” Derek chided. 
“I indulge plenty.” Emily protested. 
“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Morgan goaded with a grin. “If your bed is so popular, what’s stopping you from welcoming another?” 
“Morgan, just because a woman smiles at me from across the bar doesn’t mean she wants anything from me. Especially an invitation to my bed. Unlike you, I’m not desperate for any action.” 
Morgan’s eyes widened in shock and he brought his hand to his chest, “Oh you wound me. You wound me.” Before Morgan could continue his poking, Rossi cleared his throat to get their attention. 
“Behave, children. We’ve got company.” Rossi smiled as his eyes roamed to the end of the table.
“Please, don’t stop on my account.” The young woman called as she let the smirk settle on her lips. She stopped at the end of the booth and let her eyes settle on Emily. 
Derek was the first of the two younger agents to wake from their stunned silence. “I think we can be on our best behavior in the company of someone so beautiful, right Princess?”
Derek nudged Emily playfully but it really didn’t do much good considering she was absolutely locked in on the younger woman leaning against the booth. Her eyes slowly scanned her face in interest. Now that she’d come closer, Emily really couldn’t see any reason not to at least entertain the idea of spending an evening with this mystery woman. If she was lucky, she might even get more than just an evening.
“Princess, huh? Well, can I treat the Princess to a drink?” She smiled sweetly reaching a hand out toward Emily. As soon as the words left her mouth she could hear Morgan snickering next to her.
With a roll of her eyes, Emily took her hand and slid her empty glass to the center of the table. “I think I’d like that.” Allowing the younger woman to pull her toward the bar, Emily looked over her shoulder at Morgan and Rossi (and now Reid and Garcia) and stuck her tongue out tauntingly. They’d spent the entire night with no interest from anyone and she was getting a drink with a very attractive woman. All that talk with nothing to show of it.
Once at the bar, seemingly an equal distance from both of their parties, the woman turned to address Emily. “What’ll be?” 
Never having been one to submit, Emily grinned over the woman’s head and waved her hand toward the bartender. As the bartender made his way over to them Emily caged her arms around the younger woman and leaned over her shoulder, her body screaming dominate in every way she knew how.
“Let me have another beer and one of those fruity things for…” Emily ordered next to the woman’s ear. 
“Y/n.” 
“A fruity thing for Y/n.” Emily finished with a smile, never letting her eyes leave the woman she’d trapped between the bar and her arms. The bartender nodded and got the drinks out relatively quickly and they moved to the far end of the bar– out of the way but still just as close to each other. 
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say your name isn’t Princess.” Y/n started as she twirled the straw in her drink and gazed up at Emily through her lashes. 
“It is not. I’m Emily. My friend is just being a sore loser that I seemed to have caught the attention of the most attractive woman here.” Emily shrugged watching as Y/n’s cheeks tinted pink under her grin. 
“Well, I know what I want,” Y/n said, running a hand over the rim of her cup. 
“And what is it that you want?” Emily challenged. 
Y/n chuckled and allowed her hand to trace Emily’s jawline with a sweet smile. “Well if I have it my way, which I normally do, you’ll be wrapped around my finger before the night is over.” 
Emily raised an eyebrow as she allowed a smirk to take over her face, “Is that so?” Y/n didn’t answer at first and brought the straw of her drink to her mouth pulling Emily closer to her body. 
With their chests flushed and their eyes locked, Y/n grinned sweetly and whispered “You’ll see.” Securing Emily’s attention for the rest of the night, and potentially the future.
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storiesforallfandoms · 5 months ago
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secrets in the cold ~ rj "mac" macready;the thing
word count: 3186
request?: no
description: in which the only woman on the base, predictably, ends up falling for one of her teammates, but they decide not to tell the rest of the base
pairing: rj "mac" macready x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two, three)
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Every day I mentally reminded myself to thank our bosses when our trip ended for making such a sound structure to keep the cold out.
When I was approached to be one of the medical advisors on this trip, I was hesitant. Besides the fact that it was an extended stay in the Arctic during the coldest and stormiest time of the year, I was also set to be the only woman in a crew of 12 men. I had met 2 of the 12 before, but the rest were going to be total strangers. So it wasn't a surprise why I was a bit cautious to say yes. But it was a big opportunity for me career wise, so I did eventually say yes.
Within a matter of days, I became close with my crewmates. They were a nice group of guys, and they didn't treat me any different just because I was a woman. Some of them liked to tease me about "not falling in love with them" since we'd be stuck together for so long, but I knew it was always in jest.
I was the last person awake. I could hear everyone else bustling about in the compound; Nauls' music loudly playing as he made breakfast; the sound of pool balls clacking against one another; Copper yapping away about something or other that I'm sure no one cared about.
I rolled out of bed and pulled on my clothes. Opening the door caused the distant noises to grow louder. I moved down the hallway to the communal area, where almost everyone was gathered. The only two missing were Nauls, who was in the kitchen, and Mac, who I was sure was in his own shack still.
"Jesus, Palmer," I said as I entered the room. "You need to start going outside when you're smoking. This place reeks of weed."
"It's too cold outside," Palmer said.
"Can't handle a little cold, Palmer?" Childs teased.
They started bickering, so I took it as my opportunity to slip out to the kitchen. Nauls' boombox drowned out the noise of the other men. He was gliding across the kitchen on his rollerblades, as usual. He made them seem so easy to use, but I knew I'd have both ankles broken if I tried to use a pair of rollerblades.
"Anything good to eat, chef?!" I called over his music.
He turned and smiled before turning down the music. "Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. I was just making breakfast for you and Mac. Everyone else scarfed down the first round."
"Mac hasn't been down for breakfast yet?" Nauls shook his head. "Want to throw his into a container and I'll bring it to him?"
Nauls gave me a look, but I pretneded like I didn't see him.
While Nauls finished cooking, I made some coffee and put it in a travel mug. Nauls put Mac's food in a container, and then got a second container and put my breakfast in it. I mumbled a thank you and grabbed everything. The other guys were still loudly speaking as I passed by, so no one noticed me going towards the door. I pulled on my giant winter jacket, pulled up the furry hood, and stuffed my feet into my winter boots.
No matter how long we stated out here, I could never get used to the cold. When I opened the door to the compound, the cold hit me in the face like a brick. It took my breath away for a few seconds. Luckily, it wasn't a windy day, and it wasn't snowing. It was just bitterly cold. I trudged across the snowy lands to Mac's shack. I climbed the stairs to his door, and opened it to let myself in. I rarely ever knocked on his door, and he knew there was only one person who would let themselves in.
Mac was playing chess on his computer as usual. His eyes slowly drifted from the screen to me, and he smiled. I couldn't help but smile back as I raised the food and the coffee to show him.
"You're an angel," he said.
"A cold angel," I said, my voice shaking from the cold.
Mac extended his arms to me. "Come over, let me warm you."
I shrugged out of my coat and put down our food and his coffee, and pretty well ran to Mac's waiting embrace. He chuckled, adjusted me on his lap, and enveloped me into his warmth.
So, remember when I said about the guys joking about me falling in love with one of them? Well, it may not have been just a joke with Mac.
I still don't quite know when I started developing feelings for Mac. I knew from the start that he was a gorgeous man, even before he grew out his hair and beard and became extra gorgeous. But I never saw Mac as some romantic interest or anything. He was an attractive man who could fly our helicopter. That was it. Until one day, it wasn't. One day I became much more aware of Mac when he was close to me; of his voice when he laughed; of the feeling of his hands against mine when he was teaching me the controls of the helicopter.
It took me a while to understand what was going on, and when I did, I had one thought: "Oh shit."
Mac made the first move, and effectively surprised me when he did. We were in a similar situation to this: in his shack, except i was next to him and not on his lap, and his chess game was going before us. He had been teaching me to play because i was bored with everything else inside the compound. I wasn't any good, but he kept assuring me it took practice. After my third loss in a row, I was ready to give up. I told him it wasn't fun, he told me it could be once I learned how to play, I told him it was a stupid game. He laughed, and I laughed. Then he was kissing me.
We found a different way to pass the time that day.
We said we'd keep it a secret from the rest of the crew because we didn't want them to tease us over it or make a big deal, but I think we both knew deep down that there was another reason. Once this mission ended, once we went back home and weren't forced in such close proximity, would we still be together? Would there be a real relationship, or was it just a product of being stuck in isolation together?
I tried not to think about it. I just wanted to enjoy this time with him, however fleeting it was.
"Nauls might be on to us," I told Mac. "He gave me a look when I said I'd bring you breakfast."
"Nauls notices more than he lets on," Mac replied. "But I'm not worried about that."
I guess I wasn't either. Wouldn't have to sneak around anymore if the guys ended up figuring it out.
"Are you hungry?" I asked. "I brought coffee, too."
"I have my warming drink already." Mac held up a glass that had been placed next to his computer.
I turned in his arms to playfully glare at him. "It's too early for that."
"Never too early in the Arctic."
He raised the glass for another swig, but I managed to grab it before he could. I was off his lap and across the room before he could stop me. I replaced the whiskey with the coffee I had brought him, then dumped the liquor outside. It proved to be a punishment for me as a rush of freezing air rushed into the shack at me. Mac laughed as I shivered.
"That's what you get for wasting perfectly good whiskey."
"You don't need to be drinking already! What if we need to go out on the helicopter later?"
"I've flown with a few drinks in me before."
"Remind me never to fly with you again."
He chuckled as I passed him his breakfast. I sat with him again with my own food. We ate in silence for a while. Not an awkward silence, a very comfortable one. We spent a lot of time just sitting in silence, enjoying each other's company. Sometimes it was needed after spending a day with the guys, but mostly we just felt comfortable spending time together in silence. There was no need to fill the silence with small talk or awkward banter.
Once we finished eating, I collected our containers and utensils and stood. "I should get back to the compound. I'll bring all this back for Nauls to clean."
"You're going already?" Mac asked. I couldn't look at him, because I knew if I did then I wouldn't leave.
"Well...I've been here a while." I shrugged, as if that was enough of an answer.
"What does that mean?" he asked. I shrugged again, still not looking at him. I was reaching for my jacket, when suddenly Mac was behind me, a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, seriously, why are you rushing out?"
I took a deep breath before turning to look at Mac. As I predicted, just one look made me want to stay. He had a way of doing that, whether it was intentional or not I still wasn't sure.
"I don't want the guys to notice how long I've been gone," I admitted.
Mac chuckled. "If I had to guess, they probably don't even know that you're here."
"Nauls knows."
A look of understanding crossed Mac's face. "You're worried because Nauls knows about us."
I felt the need to defend myself, so quickly I added, "It's not like I care if anyone knows. I mean, this would all be a lot easier if the guys did know. We wouldn't have to sneak around or pretend anymore."
"But you're still worried."
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "A little. We've kept it a secret this long, it's kind of...scary to have the guys find out now."
Mac put both hands on my shoulders, moving closer to me. "Listen, I'm not trying to invalidate how you're feeling or anything, but I do know that if anyone here found out about us, they would not care. The only reason I said we should keep this to ourselves is that once they find out, we will not know a moment of peace. There will be constant jokes and teasing about it, but no one is going to be upset. I don't know why they would. We're two grown adults engaging in a relationship that we're both consenting to. There was nothing in the job description to say that wasn't allowed."
I chuckled. I knew he was right, but still there was something gnawing at me in worry about anyone finding out. In the back of my head a little voice was reminding me of how unsure the future of this relationship was, but I tried to tune it out.
"I'm still gonna go back to the compound," I told him. "I'll come back up later?"
He nodded. "I'll be down later. We can sneak up afterwards, maybe."
"Like two teenagers."
Mac chuckled and leaned forward to kiss me. My heart tugged after him as he pulled away, willing me to stay there. But I forced myself to pull my coat back on and to go out into the cold.
~~~~~~
It didn't take long for me to wish I had stayed in Mac's shack. Upon returning to the compound, I was met with the cacophony of noise once again. The guys talking, Nauls' music, the various sounds of what the guys were doing to pass the time. As predicted, none of them had noticed I was gone. Norris had caught me hanging up my coat as I came back in, but when I told him I was just bringing something to Mac, he shrugged and went back to his room, no questions asked.
I spent a few hours reading one of the books that had recently been sent. Every so often, when Windows could reach our bosses, we would put out requests for certain things to be brough to the base. Usually some resources, like food or medical supplies, but sometimes we would ask for things to be brought for entertainment purposes. I'd always ask for books. However many they wanted to send me. I would tell them to get my sister to go to my apartment and take a few off my bookshelf to send, so that I knew I would like them and not be sent some random picks from our higher ups. I was in my room, trying to get away from the noise so I could read, when Mac had come into the compound. I heard his voice first talking to the other guys, and then he was in my doorway.
I looked up at him, and he looked back at me. We didn't say anything, but I still blushed under his gaze, and he still smiled, probably a bit cocky at how he could make me feel with just a look.
I joined the rest of the group a little while after that. I put my book aside and walked down the hall to find everyone sitting around the table. Well, almost everyone. Garry and Blair were off to the side, watching but not really taking part. Childs was dealing the cards when I walked in. He looked up at me and said, "Hey, look who's finally joining us."
"Can you blame a girl for wanting to take a break from you morons sometimes?" I teased. "What are we playing?"
"Poker," Childs responded. "You want in?"
"I've never played before," I admitted. "I'll watch a few rounds and see if I can pick up on it."
"It's not that hard," Bennings said. "It shouldn't take too long to pick up on it. Mac, move over so she can pull a chair over to watch us."
Mac gave me a look that I hoped none of the other guys had caught. He moved his chair over enough for me to slip another chair between him and Bennings. When I sat down, we were pressed together. I tried not to focus too much on how close together we were.
I watched the guys play a few rounds. Bennings was definitely the right one to sit next to because he was winning every round. The only one he hadn't won, Mac had won instead. I was feeling a bit confident that I could play, so the next round I had Childs deal me in. Turns out, I was a little quick to have this level of confidence because the first round I lost terribly.
"Maybe you should've spectated one more time," Palmer said.
"Maybe you should shut up," I retorted, sticking out my tongue for good measure. Everyone laughed.
"Do you wanna play again?" Childs asked as he started shuffling the cards again.
I shrugged. "Yeah, why not? I won't learn if I don't play."
"We should make it interesting," Windows said. "Strip poker, anyone?"
I was ready with another playful retort, knowing that Windows was not serious in his suggestion, but Mac cut me off with a snap, "Shut the fuck up, Windows."
A tense silence filled the room. Everyone turned to look at Mac, who definitely was not happy with Windows' suggestion.
"Mac," I said, my voice a little soft. "It's fine."
"I wasn't serious, man," Windows said. "You know none of us think that way about her."
Mac's eyes fell down to the table in front of him. I could see that he was still annoyed, but also that he was realizing his outburst was uncalled for. I glanced around the table and saw all the guys were still facing us, still a little confused by Mac's sudden anger.
So, I decided to make things a little clearer.
"And you know the only person here I'd get naked for is you."
The silence lasted all of five seconds before the guys were all saying, "What?!"
Mac's eyes met mine, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His hand started inching towards mine, so I nodded, giving him the silent go ahead to hold my hand in front of all of our crewmembers. That definitely sealed the deal for them, and suddenly we were being asked a number of different questions all at once.
"MacReady, you bastard," Childs said, clapping Mac on the back. "Only you would get the one woman in this place to fall for your charm."
"I think it may have been the other way around," I said. "He was the one to make the first move."
"You fucking dog!" Windows said.
We hadn't noticed Gary until he was stood between Fuchs and Windows, directly across the table from us so he could perfectly stare us down. The table suddenly went quiet again, facing our commander.
"If you're about to tell us that this interferes with our mission in some way," Mac started, "then just stop, because it doesn't. Us being together isn't going to affect how I fly a helicopter, or how she conducts medical procedures with Cooper."
"The higher ups will want to hear about it," Gary said. "Whether it interferes or not, you two are engaging in a relationship with a crew member, and that's something that will need to be brought up to the board."
I felt my ears growing hot. I wanted to snap at Gary, because there truthfully was no need to tell anyone about this. Like Mac had said, there was no interreference because we were together. Nothing was going to change just because we were dating.
But I was glad I had kept it to myself when Gary smiled and said, "But we can discuss it with them when the mission is over."
I almost deflated into Mac's arms as Gary told us he was happy for us, then went to sit back down with Blair. Everyone was ready to move on from the news, so Childs started dealing the cards again.
"I guess we won't have to sneak back to my place like two teenagers after all," Mac told me.
"Maybe I can actually stay the night, too."
He smiled at me. "I guess I can make room in that small bed for one more person. Just means we'll have to be real close all night."
"If you two are gonna talk about your sex lives, can you do it when you're not with us?" Bennings asked. "Some of us don't have a chance in Hell of getting sex until this mission ends, so we don't need it rubbed in our faces."
"That sounds do-able," Mac said, tossing his cards in front of him and standing. "Let's go back to my shack and have all sorts of sex."
The guys exclaimed in disgust as I stood and followed Mac's lead.
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aritsukemo · 3 months ago
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Birth of New Beginnings, Death to Old Comforts
Sunday x GN Reader ( Amnesia AU )
Summary: Sunday is approached with a second chance at life. Unbeknownst to him that what was sacrificed to obtain it was scarier than any death penalty.
Warnings: This was loosely inspired by Crow's amazing oc, Hark, so a lot of stuff can be referenced to them. Furthermore, this is my first time writing for Sunday so don't drag me too much please 😓 As per request, I'm keeping this purposely ambiguous. Also angsty themes ahead but what do you expect from me at this point? You have been warned!
A/N: The first gift is up! This is a book with a golden covering and silver vines on the face, a bouquet of white orchids, earl grey tea, and a fresh batch of brown butter waffles for....Crow! Enjoy @rainswept!
Event: AriTsukemo's 2025 Appreciation STELLARONHVNTERS'S Appreciation Reading Party
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“The real world is not about happy endings,” Was the absurdity spewed when your betrayal to The Family was solidified and you stood on the side of the foolish — yet not completely hopeless — crew members of the Astral Express.
You had never truly seen eye to eye with Sunday, going to mock his aspirations at every turn, and yet, you stook around as though you didn’t mean it. As though you were merely rudely jesting like when you were both still teens. Maybe that’s why he turned a blind eye to his own suspicions — that sinking feeling that came with the inevitability that you’d turn on him without batting an eye to your history together and the ideals you did share with him at some point — and he found himself in slight disarray when it finally happened; that he felt his golden hues twitching ever so slightly at the ends and he felt his hands ball into fist behind his back.
That he felt, though only for a moment, anger at what you did.
He’ll prove you wrong. The thought cemented itself in his brain as he rose before you and was embraced by his ideals in its most physical form; wing-faced to shield him away from his opposers — just as he had been doing for Penacony in the shadows — with long mechanical limbs — one bearing a long, thin baton — that could play on forever without growing tired. It was a form he had taken on willingly, determined to subject himself to endless encores and tiring performances for an eternity for the sake and wellbeing of those he cared for down to his deepest core.
He rose as a god — one that was willing to do what those otherworldly beings that looked down upon them could not, would not — and he was ready to fight for what he believed in. Ready to prove to you, the Astral Express, and everyone else who fought against him that this was truly for the best, and that with the right person pulling the strings behind the stage, there could be a world where only happy endings came to fruition and pain, anguish, and sorrow was a forgotten concept that would never be felt again.
But then he lost and everything, quite literally, came crashing down.
The dream he fought so, so hard for went up in smokes the moment he was able to caress it, and yet, the frustration only boiled over when you stood before him again after his title of Head of The Family was stripped from him and he was tangled in chains and stationed to sit and await his just punishment for his crimes.
Oddly enough, you were also in a similar fate — though your chains were much more translucent and only seemed to be visible for a fleeting few seconds when you spoke through that thinly-veiled sarcastic tone of yours.
 “Despite how hard you fell, you don’t look as bad as I thought you would. I mean, I would even go as far as to say that you’re full of vigor,” Your words irked him, but it was his just desserts for being the loser in his own grand scheme. Nevertheless, he let his irritation play like a show on his face, and ultimately, his tone as he hissed out his words to you.
 “Have you come here merely to poke at my pride for old times’ sake?” He asked, fully expecting to get a response equally as agitating as the last — and of course you delivered as you always did.
 “I’ve come to congratulate you on your freedom,” You told him that as though it were obvious. As if he wasn’t sitting before you, unable to move and on death row. He found himself gritting his even teeth.
 “I will not stand for your mockery, leave,” He told you despite the table of power having been flipped. He didn’t have that capability to boss anyone around. Not even a fledgling would listen to him, much less you.
 “You can’t stand…” You quipped, but the way you trailed off had him raising his spite-filled brow towards you, and ultimately, his gaze — though only a little — as you continued, “...at least not yet.”
 “What are you going on about?” He asked, initially gaining silence in response, which forced him to fully look up at you to search for answers himself. He locked eyes with yours, and despite your tone, he found this unfamiliar gleam in them. It was one that has lit his gaze countless times in the past as well as many others. He remembers that look when you took a stance on the other side of the coin and told him that everything he had built so far was a travesty.
And then it clicked at last; you were looking at him with utmost seriousness.
 “Like I said, I'm here to celebrate the moment you become a free man again,” You walked towards him as that uncanny glimmer in your eyes slowly went to overtake your entire face. You grow closer, and though he knows it's futile, he leans as far back into his chair as he can only to quickly run out of space to escape mere seconds later. 
You finally stand right in front of him where he helplessly sits in your reach. You, rightfully, tower over him — the light from the room outside bleeding in as if to further shove your victory in his face — yet it's only for a short moment before you're dropping down to your knees and willingly shrouding yourself further into darkness. Just like how you once walked behind him, managing life and aiding him whilst being in the cold embrace of his ever-growing shadow..
You reach for his leg — which had been locked in place by a bulky shackle — as your other hand goes fishing into your vest pocket. He flinches away when your fingertips graze against the fabric of his pants, and it was clear to you that it wasn’t out of fear nor out of disgust. The way he jerked away was as though he were stripping cheese away from a rat. It was a test — one that he hoped would reveal to him your plans and give insight on the oddity of your responses. Alas, you manage to see through what he was attempting to do — which maybe would’ve been helpful if you hadn’t already shackled yourself to your own undoing.
You finally find what you searched for and you’re quick about getting it out. So quick, in fact, that he doesn’t catch what exactly you grabbed. He opens his mouth to inquire about it, but he’s given an answer before he can ask the question as you loop your hand around his calf and he feels your grip tighten before—schlink.
  “What do you think you’re doing?!” He asks, his voice rising like his temperament, a stark contrast to the cool way you respond, as if you were drowning in subzero waters.
 “I’m getting tired of repeating myself,” You simply tell him.
 “And I’m getting tired of your nonsense,” He retorts — a first for him. Having been a product of growing up together, you knew how he operated and he knew you in turn. Both of you knew what made the other tick, and yet, you were the only one who’d crudely press and poke at him until the wings that protruded from his ears twitched ever so slightly with vexation. Never once did he try to jab back at you — as though it were above him. Maybe he thought it was at some point — that you were being immature for having a sense of humor — and to that part of you was snickering like a little kid.
You release his leg, and as though you were the chains that weighed him down, he feels ten times lighter when you pull away. He felt almost relieved until he realized how literal that weightlessness was and he kicked his leg forward to glimpse at it. Sure enough, it was free from its cold, uncomfortable prison, but you give him little time to gawk before you move to undo the chains that crowd around his other leg. It’s then that the surprise subsides and a frown graces his features.
 “I won’t accept this,” He said with a grimace. No matter what your reason was — what kind of change of heart you may have had or what you were told you could gain for doing this — he won’t have it. He doesn’t need charity. Not from anyone and certainly not you, who fought tooth and nail to get him here in the first place.
But you seem to be equally as stubborn on fulfilling whatever motive drives you because he barely gets a chance to resist before your grip turns inhumane and your unclipped fingernails — which he used to always chide you for as it would infuriate him to no end — dig into his pants leg and a jolt of pain forces him limp as you manage to pierce him through the thick fabric, just barely managing to avoid breaking skin.
 “You don’t have much of a choice here,” You tell him, “Everything’s already been set in motion. Neither you nor I can change this fate.”
 “Stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what you mean—!” His screams come to an abrupt halt as your eyes briefly lock after you freed his other leg and you reached up to do the same to his arm. He sees something in your eyes again, something he’s never ever seen on you. It had a tinge of poorly placed satisfaction like you had just come back from a casino where you lost everything but managed to regain a slither of your previous fortune, specifically just enough to get by. There was something else that swirled there too, something he could not hope to place in the state he’s in now, or maybe in his entire lifetime, as it was carefully masked behind this thick hollowness that dimmed your pupils — like something had once been there but was stripped away. Was it sorrow? Happiness? Pride? Or…no, you wouldn’t..
You free his hand, and immediately, he shoots out to latch it onto your neck. His grip wasn’t nearly as vicious as yours — you’d even go as far as to describe it as quite the tender hold — as he tilted your head up to look at him once more.
And there he sees it, or rather, he doesn’t. The fiery spark that he could once use to differentiate you from any impersonator or lookalike…was nowhere to be found, leaving only the hollow shell and this off-putting wit you’ve been throwing at him this entire time. 
And so he asks, his voice dropping down to a strained whisper as if he were the one being choked right now,  “..What have you done?”
And you answer casually — too casually for how dire this could possibly be, “I’ve done nothing but strike a deal with a pretty woman.”
 “Jade,” He says her name like he’s muttering a curse word, his teeth clicking like a lighter trying to produce fire, “What deal have you struck? What have you so…so foolishly—”
 “Does it matter?” You grab his wrist, and just like you thought, it takes no effort to peel it off your skin nor does his hand leave any prints or markings on your jugular. It truly was like an embrace, one you’d give a friend or even a loved one. Someone that you, at one point, could’ve possibly fit the bill. You’re not sure, and quite frankly, you didn’t want to know.
 “What’s done is done. No use fretting over the details,” You unclasp the final chain which confines his left arm and your hand lingers there longer than it did the rest. As if unlocking that bulky, iron bracelet finalized your future strife — one of unknowingness, anxious innocence that never belonged to you, and blank faces that once gave meaning to your life and filled your childhood with inexplicable bliss — you froze up, and at last, muttered your demise with a carefully spoken, overly thought out one-liner.
 “It’s not like I’ll be able to remember soon anyways.”
Sunday didn’t process it at first; the way his breath caught at your words and the way he too froze in place. It was as though he had immediately been given new shackles despite just being freed of the old ones — these ones being much heavier and possessing no key to free him of.
Well it does, but if what you say is to be taken literally, that key will soon forget its color of purpose, the hardened convictions that shaped it, and its hardships and blessings that formed the ridges necessary to slot perfectly into its keyhole.
 “Soon, our roles will be reversed — in some ways anyway,” You mutter, “I’ll be sitting in a chair of my own, littered in invisible chains, and what’s worse? I won’t even know about them,” You sigh. It was meant to be a chuckle of some kind but without the usual dry humor to reflect off of, it ceased to exist entirely. That said, you had no choice but to fall back on vocal clarity to get your point across, “It’s such funny irony. The victor ends up worse off than the defeated.”
 “But don’t get things twisted,” At last, you snap from whatever melancholic trance you were under and rise to your feet. Your hand retreating to station at your hip as you say, “I’m not angry. Not in the slightest. I’m the one who proposed this deal in the first place after all.”
And in his shock, he manages to force out a shaky, “Why?” but you take your time to answer.
As if you wanted to be insufferable one last time, you turn on your heel instead of opening your mouth to award him with the answer he yearns for. Just as you approached him, you walked slowly, as if you had all the time in the world. Your feet click in a spasmodic pattern that stabs into him one by one, forcing him to take your appearance in at last.
He can see the white of your undershirt peeking from your vest — which he noticed when you first came in was sloppily buttoned aside from the top, which remains unclasped altogether. There seemed to be just one too many creases in your attire and he could just tell it was nowhere in alignment with the loafers you adorn on your feet. It irked him to his very core to the point his fingers twitched, eager to grasp at the mistake that was you and fix it immediately.
But maybe some part of you wanted that. Hoped that his first decision as a free man would be to chase you down for once. To hold you, even when trembling with rage, and to engrave you into his being. Maybe the entire point of your visit was to ensure that you left an impression that satisfied you — one that would replace the interpretation he had of you during his descent from godhood, when you turned away as the final strike was dealt and the ideal you once shared together went up in flames.
If that was your true motive for coming here in place of that woman, you only half-succeeded. You achieved in your goal to erase that as his final memory of you, but failed in cementing it as what he’ll later remember you — this version of you — as. There are a plethora of other memories that come to mind in that case, some even dating back to when you could still both smile at each other without other veiled emotions diminishing them into something faux.
 “The real world isn’t about happy endings. It’ll always be that way no matter how much you or I wish it otherwise,” You told him as you finally reached the door, the light pouring in now blinding — as though what waited for you on the other side was the afterlife itself. In a way it was. You were dying, or at least, the you he and so many others had known was.
 “—And to answer your question from earlier, the reason I did this was because of my own belief; that this heartless world — that fills everyone with its fuel of suffering that pushes us to do the most insane things sometimes — is about taking your bleeding heart, your life, and fighting like hell to keep it beating until you no longer find a need to.”
Then suddenly, you look back at him, “I made this trade to follow my beliefs, and for that I must give it up too. If you accept her offer, the same may happen to you, but I still suggest that you at least consider it. I mean, your wings are already severed, might as well walk the mortal realm and see what it’s like.”
This time he doesn’t say anything, simply taking in your words as a sour taste pools at the root of his mouth. He wonders what it is, but doesn’t take the time to delve into himself to find an answer as it may take too much time and give you the chance to disappear into a cloud of smoke and reform somewhere else as someone entirely new.
Then again, that’ll happen anyways. He knows that now, but he still watches you like a hawk because he at least wants to give you that satisfaction of knowing that some part of him is giving chase albeit it's not in the literal sense you may have hoped.
You finally break your prolonged staring competition with him and face the light. It burns your retinas and you’re sure that, sooner than later, it’ll give you a horrible migraine. Nevertheless, you pretend that it doesn’t bother you — soon, it won’t for real.
 “Take care, sunny. The next time we see each other, we’ll be completely different people with lives that no longer crash into each other. …Heh, maybe we can even be civil to each other for once,” You take a step forward, most of your body out of the door as you find yourself murmuring under your breath.
 “...But, part of me wouldn’t mind if it were still the opposite.”
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⇢ On the last page, you notice hearts and smiley faces circling around a note of some kind, it reads..
Before anything else, I just wanna say Happy Birthday Crow!!! Second off, I wanna thank you for creating the StellaronHvnters Network. If it weren't for this network coming into my life, I'd probably still be this sad sack who likes to write sometimes. You have singlehandedly gave me so much motivation along with many, many laughs and tears of joy!! Our late night chats are one of the best pleasures I get out of this network!! No matter how bad I feel, talking to you always manages to cheer me up!! Whether it be you yapping to me about your ocs ( which are the coolest btw I love them!!! Hark especially lmao they're my spirit animal at this point ), or HSR, or something else entirely, I'm always smiling behind the screen!! There are times where I let myself slip and I yap about all the fucked up shit that's happened to me over the years and you always managed to make me feel heard and comforted and safe beyond belief and to that I thank you so, so much!! ( Also your voice is really nice to listen to!! It's calming, like more than any ASMR or comfort audio I've listened to!! I could listen to you for hours like you're just like soothing in every aspect to me )
No matter what you may think otherwise, you are an amazing person with amazing skills in your arsenal!! I'm always blown away by the things you create ( still gnawing at the bars, waiting for another Aven fic btw ) and I'm always itching to hear more!! Not just that but your characterizations GOSHHHH they're so good!! Thanks to them, I've finally been able to grasp some understanding for Sunday and finally, finally write for him!! Again, you're so awesome!!
Honestly you just feel like a close, if not best friend, to me. Granted, many of the people in the StellaronHvnters are like that to me, but you especially!! You've always been a blast to talk to ( over text and on vc ), you're funny, you make me feel safe and never, like, make me feel judged or ashamed and just...aghhhh I love you so much. Please, let your mom know that I'm thanking her a million times over for having you!! Not just that, but I want to personally thank you for existing and being you and creating this safehaven for me, I owe you so, so much!!
I hope your day, and days to come, are as bright as you make mine!! And, once again, happy birthday!! <3
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Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx
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fanaticsnail · 2 years ago
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You Kissed the Clown? Part 2
Hello everyone! I wasn't thinking about making a part 2 to this story, but I'm now thinking about adding a little more. Part one is here:
Part 1
Part 2 is a little more banter with the Strawhat crew, a little bit of reflection on the actions of part 1 and a little bit more into the type of background the reader are in this insert. Future chapters will likely be a bit of Cap Kuro, Baratie and of course our favourite decapitated head
Anyways, onto part 2, taking place OPLA S1E2.
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“I have four lockpicks, they only found three,” Nami quipped at the green-haired swordsman. They had been bickering for a short while whereas you were attempting to utilise your newly acquired throwing knife to cut through your bonds. Unfortunately, you had not managed to get an appropriate hold on the knife to cut through the rope on your wrists, as their bonds were tight; successfully immobilising your hands.
“What?” Zoro snapped at Nami, annoyance ringing in his tone.
“This is my life now,” she rolled her eyes and continued to pick the lock confiding her in her dangling cage.
“You want to trade places?” Zoro suggested.
You shook your head and maneuvered your body to press you back against the post you were tied to, breaking your sights from their forms. You knitted your brows together and strained against your ropes.
“Someone’s coming,” Zoro whispered. You spun your head to face him momentarily before frantically spinning the knife in your fingertips.
“I need more time. Keep them talking,” Nami snapped back.
“I don’t talk, I hit things,” Zoro curtly responded before turning his head towards you.
“Why don’t you give this one a kiss too, hm? Maybe that’d distract them,” Zoro quipped at you with a small smirk.
“To quote a very skilled swordsman I have come to hold a certain fondness for: I kind of have my own thing going on right now,” you whispered in a slight jesting tone. You gestured to the knife in your hands and wiggled them to demonstrate how restrictive your hand movement had become within the bonds of the rope. Zoro sighed and thumped his head backwards against the wheel he was strung from.
“Put your mouth to good use again then,” he whispered at you, nodding his head to the blade. The curtains suddenly flung open and revealed a unicycle using individual who became immediately fixated on Zoro.
You knit your brows together and turned your body away from Zoro, Nami and the new individual as you reached your mouth down and clasped the bound woven end of the throwing knife between your teeth. You began to rake the bonds against the sharp tip of the knife as you contemplated the circumstances you journeyed through to be exactly in this present moment.
You closed your eyes and focussed on breathing through your nose as you used subtle movements of your head as to not bring attention to yourself while Zoro was distracting ‘Cabaji’, as he introduced himself. Behind your eyelids, you became haunted by the ice-shrouded lenses belonging to the leader of this troop. You shuddered slightly as the ghost of the kiss you shared so tenderly relayed over your memories. You bit down harder on the material covering the small blade and hardened your resolve to free yourself from your bonds.
Zoro taunted Cabaji to keep his sights fixated on the swordsman to distract from both your and Nami’s attempt to free yourselves from your entrapments. Cabaji threw a circular ended knife at Zoro in response to his taunts and continued to monologue about his brother who’s life was taken at the hands of Zoro.
You flinched at the sound of the sharp blade hitting the rounded pallet, but continued to attempt to slice through your bonds at a hastened pace.
“Let’s see if you can keep your head,” Cabaji threatened before you heard the circular board begin to rotate while holding Zoro in place.
You managed to successfully cut through two of the finer woven whisps of rope trapping your hands, which then enabled you to cut through others with more ease. You found the bonds beginning to become looser and giving your fingers more freedom in their movements – not enough to truly utilise them but enough to aid your mouth in cutting through the remainder of the rope.
Knife after knife was thrown against the board behind Zoro, who you noticed did not seem to make a noise to indicate he was harmed in any way by the blades. Finally as you bit down harder on the hilt of the knife, you managed to free your dominant hand from the bonds and take the knife from between your teeth into it to cut the rope binding your other hand.
“As soon as Captain Buggy is finished with you, you’re mine,” threatened Cabaji after a final blade was thrown against the board.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m not sticking around,” Zoro replied in response to his threat in a nonchalant manner. You freed your other hand and turned your head to meet the gaze of Nami as she clicked the lock and managed to pull the bolt from the lock and lace it through the gated door. You smiled at her and waved your free hand at her, prompting her to smirk in response and unlatch the gate from the hilt to swing it wide enough for her to squeeze her body through.
“Really? Got somewhere else to be?” Cabaji retorted with a quip of his head.
“I didn’t use to think so,” Zoro replied, “But Luffy changed all of that.”
You took the knife between your fingers and held it out in a defensive manner, although you truly had no idea how to correctly use it to protect yourself against a skilled fighter. Nami managed to sneak up behind Cabaji and perfectly timed a kick with Zoro a way to successfully immobilize Cabaji with one swift move. Zoro held him in the crook of his elbow and rendered him unconscious through a minor strangulation. Nami took one of the throwing knives off the board and freed Zoro’s right hand from it’s bounds before they reequipped their weapons.
“What’s the plan?” Zoro asked Nami as he strapped his swords to his righthand side, “you do have a plan, right? That’s your thing, plans.”
Nami sighs and cracks her neck slightly.
“I say, we beat the hell out of every clown we see,” she smirked in response, prompting Zoro to chuckle slightly at the suggestion. Nami turned to you slightly and formed her lips into a thin line and furrowed her brows slightly at you. You quirked your eyebrow up at her expression before she handed you a small rag she took from one of the vanities in the green room.
“For your face,” she cringed out slightly through a tightly grit smile.
“For my face?” you questioned while taking the rag from her outstretched hand. You sauntered slightly over to one of the vanities and noticed how truly horrendous you looked with blue, red and white facial paint smeared all over the lower half of your face. Your cheeks began to glow red like an iron poker you used in your jewellery making practices as you frantically began to scrub your face.
“And none of you said a damn thing,” you uttered as you scrubbed, wiped and patted the paint on your face, successfully removing it partially – leaving only your lips stained with the memory of the passionate embrace you shared with the clown captain.
“Yeah well, we were a little tied up,” Zoro retorted with a smirk. You turned your head to scowl at him before throwing the rag at the mirror. Nami let out a small chuckle at the comment before she made her way out of the tent curtain into the main area.
You attempted to follow her but felt a firm arm on your shoulder. You turned to face your swordsman companion as he held you momentarily.
“I don’t think you can kiss your way out of this one,” he commented at you, causing you to frown at him.
“What are you talking about?” you responded, shrugging his hand from your shoulder.
“What I mean is, you’re not a skilled fighter. You are a jeweller,” he commented moving his body in front of yours and beginning to exit the curtain door, “just keep your head down, stay behind me and try not to get in the way.”
You scoffed and reluctantly followed the orders of the former bounty hunter turned first mate. You kept your head down and followed the path of the two skilled reconnaissance fighters as they began to immobilise one by one the members of the circus troop, keeping their administrations silent and stealthy as they did so. As each member of the crew fell, you felt a small amount of pity for not only them, but the leader of their troop.
You remember feeling the waves of true loneliness coming from his body as he unashamedly cradled you into himself. His need for acceptance, hunger for dominion and desire for an intimate connection was expressed through his embrace. You could admit to only yourself that the kiss, although started as a way for you to stealthily collect a knife from your captor’s breast pocket, was truly one of the few moments you yourself had truly felt craved by someone else. Sure, men had wanted you in the past – some even seeking your father’s permission to begin a courtship with you; but the amount of yearning you felt falling off the pirate clown in unbridled waves of pure and utter desire for you and only you felt unakin to any other single moment you had shared with another individual.
And you had yet to utter a single word to him.
As Nami and Zoro successfully rendered the last of Buggy’s ‘insane clown posse’ unconscious, Zoro directed you to a place behind the bleachers and sat you down atop a small barrel.
“We’re gonna go in and grab Luffy,” Zoro fixated his gaze on you as he removed a small black bandana from his left upper arm, “you wait here until we’re done.”
“Wait here?” you angrily whispered at him, prompting him to scoff while he placed the bandana against his forehead.
“Again,” he whispered back, “you can’t fight. You could try, but all I can see is you likely getting yourself or one of us hurt in the process. It’s dangerous, stick to the plan.”
“And what is the plan?” you whispered in response, keeping your hushed tone as low as you could.
“Run and get a boat ready for us, we may need to sprint to get out of here,” Nami whisper-called to you as she prepared her retractable staff in the best way she could before rushing in to rescue your self-appointed Captain.
Zoro stalked into the circus ring with two of his blades drawn in a slow and intimidating manner as Nami flung her staff at what appeared to be a large glass container full of sea-water.
“Where are my freaks?!” You heard the clown captain call. The desperation in his voice pulled slightly at your heart, prompting you to halt your actions slightly. You closed your eyes, listening to Zoro’s retort.
“They’re not coming,” he stated monotonously. The sound of glass shattering within the circus arena echoed throughout the large white and red tent, breaking you from your momentary trance and prompting you to begin your sprint into the desolate town.
You almost shrieked at the sight, noticing buildings reduced to rubble on the harsh gravel floor beneath your feet. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes as you gathered your skirts into your hands and ran throughout the area, franticly searching the forsaken town for anything resembling a dock. Stones, dirt and mud was flung beneath your feet as you sprinted towards the sea, finally fixating your eyes on your small, abandoned rigging.
You noticed it was not tied to the dock, but slowly setting sail, unmanned, out onto the open sea. Without a moments hesitation, you ran to the end of the dock and dove into the deep water below and began to swim out to meet the small vessel. Although you were not competent in the art of hand to hand combat, you were more than an adequate swimmer. Being in the upper working class in your hometown, you had the luxury of being granted education in sea-bearing survival. Swimming was one of the few physical recreations you adored, and swiftly became prominent in the skill. Sailing was another aspect that came along with commencing trade as a finery merchant, often travelling alongside your father on his many routes.
Paying no heed to the weight of your dampened clothes, you continued an unrelenting pace of diving beneath choppy waves and wading above the smaller ones before you made swift work of the distance between the dock and your sailing vessel. You found a small rope hanging from the side of the vessel and wrapped your hand around the fibrous material and tested the weight of it before pulling yourself up and over the polished wooden panel of the ship.
As your feet found the hard floor of the boat, you finally felt the weight of your drenched attire – your skirts weighing you down the most. You pushed the material over your hips and pooled them at your feet; leaving you in your undershorts as you quickly sprinted to the helm and maneuvered it to turn the vessel back to make port at the end of the dock. You noticed the sailing sheets began to listen to your guidance and the wind appeared to be on your side as you made the vessel bend to your will; riding the waves back into town.
You fixed your eyes on the tent containing your travelling companions and your eyes widened at noticing what you could only assume to be Luffy’s fists exit the tent and a small object being flung into the sky. You could not tell from this distance what the object was, but you felt a small amount of relief at the knowledge your companions were still alive within the shrouded materials of the large tent.
After successfully navigating the boat back to the dock, you flung a rope and captured a small post with the looped end. You pulled the rope and docked the boat before the icky feeling of heavy seawater in your clothes began to notify you of the imbalance of weight you were bearing.
You pondered momentarily about using your time alone to strip you of your wet clothes and change into some dry ones you kept in your quarters before your companions made their way back to you, hopefully unscathed. Before you could hold that thought further, you noticed your companions making their way towards you, along with the freed townspeople behind them. You smiled warmly and waved to them, prompting your captain to wave in response.
Zoro and Nami made their way down the dock to your position on the boat, Zoro noticing first your soaked body before looking onto the deck and locating your drenched skirt splayed onto the floor.
“What happened?” he furrowed his brows at you, “fancied a swim while we did all the hard work?”
You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged his shoulder before helping Nami to step onto the deck.
“The boat was attempting to get away from me,” you replied, “fortunately for us all, I’m confident in my swimming abilities.”
Zoro hummed slightly in response, using his foot to nudge your skirt on the floor, “you gonna clean this up?”
“Yes,” you responded bluntly, jumping down onto the deck and picking up your soaked skirt. You flung it over one of the ropes holding the sail and held it in place with a small clamp. You looked over to Nami, noticing she was holding Luffy’s straw hat in her hands and repairing it with a sewing needle. You walked over to the place Zoro was leaning on and leant your body next to his.
“What happened?” you asked him, nodding your chin to your captain and navigator.
“The clown cut his hat up a little,” he responded, also looking to the two of them. You fixed your eyes to the floor and used your shoulder to nudge the swordsman slightly.
“Thank you,” you murmured slightly. The swordsman hummed in response, raising his eyebrow to you.
“For stopping me from doing something stupid,” you further clarified, still looking down on the floor. He chuckled slightly in response.
“I dunno,” he taunted you, “you kissed the clown all on your own.”
Your eyes widened at the mention and the red tinge returned to your cheeks, upper ears and your central most point in your chest.
“I meant with the fighting, asshole,” you said through gritted teeth. This caused Zoro to let out a full, unrestrained belly-laugh at your retort. Once he had his fill of laughter, he stifled it off into a small teetered chuckle.
“We need to do something about that,” he mentioned slightly with a small amount of determined warmth in his eyes.
“What? With kissing?” you spat slightly, prompting him to chuckle again.
“No, idiot,” he responded and nudged his shoulder against yours, “fighting.”
“Why, are you offering to train me in the art of martial combat are you?” you asked him, fixing your gaze on the navigator and captain once more.
“In a way, yes I am,” he responded, causing you to snap your head to meet his gaze as his eyes softened slightly before you saw a mischevious glint appear behind them, “can’t have you kissing every enemy we come to face.”
You groaned in response and hung your head again, causing him to chuckle.
“I will never live that down, will I?” you questioned him, bringing your right hand to cradle your forehead in shame.
“As long as we’re apart of the same crew?” Zoro quipped back, “absolutely not.”
You peaked through your fingers and noticed Nami was no longer above the deck and Luffy was hanging from the ropes containing the sail sheets to get a better angle on the path ahead.
“What happened to him? The clown?” you asked Zoro suddenly. Zoro sighed and turned around to face the open ocean, resting his forearms against the wooden railing and stretching his back slightly.
“He had devil-fruit powers, you know. Chop-Chop fruit,” he mentioned. This had your eyes wide as you turned to face the swordsman fully, “I couldn’t slice him up.”
You hummed and placed your own hands on the wooden railing. You reminisced the expression Buggy held as you broke from the kiss replaying in your mind. The way his eyes searched your own for some hidden agenda, only to find your own eyes looking half-lidded through your eyelashes. The way his lips were smeared with his face-paint, knowing he had transported some of the tint to your own skin in your administrations. His eyes holding apprehensive, bitter-sweet desperation as his need for you to fulfill some sort of void surpassed shame at the public display of affection.
“We removed pieces of him and put him into individual barrels,” Zoro’s voice brought you out of his thoughts, causing you to choke on the air you sucked into your mouth quickly.
“Don’t worry,” he smirked, “he’s still alive. Just really, really small.”
Zoro chuckled, looking down at the waves colliding with the base of the ship.
“You’re drenched,” Zoro commented, gesturing to your clothes, “go get dry and change into something other than a skirt. Your combat training starts now.”
Part 3
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calypsocolada · 2 years ago
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WINNER WINNER | r. zoro
(click here for part two)
synopsis: a stoic swordsman helps you figure out what your type is. authors note: hi :] i like zoro. no other notes. cw: violence, fluff, small bit of angst, clueless!reader, kissin :*, zoroxreader, small bit of sanjixreader wc: 4.4k
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Zoro’s wooden practice sword swung in an unpredictable arch, you knew you couldn’t avoid it so you turned, letting it smack hard against your shoulder. Pain zaps through your body, the hit more annoying than painful. 
“Ow!” You growled, eyes narrowing. Zoro danced around you, you never knew how light-footed he could be, how quick and precise his sword play was. Zoro was a huge man, he was easily two feet taller than you, built like a damn freight train and somehow still quicker than you. Zoro’s mouth quirked up in a smart ass smirk, his brows raising tauntingly. 
“I thought you said you were getting better.” He jested, obviously trying to get a rise out of you. You took the bait every damn time. You swing your sword in anger. 
“I am!” You yelled, he dodged your assault with ease, playfully hitting your back as you stumbled forwards. You gained your footing and spun back around, swinging again but he just bats it away lazily. 
“Come on, killer, swing with purpose not with anger.” He says listlessly, like he’s bored with this. 
Of course he was bored, he was probably the best swordsman in the world, you were just some idiot pirates daughter. It had been a few months since escaping your fathers crew and although you were one of your fathers best fighters you fought more close combat style, with knives mostly. Swords were long and heavy, especially the ones Zoro used. It was like he made them out of boulders rather than steel. But right now you were using practice swords because you’re sure that if this was a real fight you’d be dead and buried. 
You grip the handle of the sword hard, knuckles turning white. You weren’t used to defeat, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Zoro’s stretched a bit, yawning. The anger always took you over. You were your fathers daughter after all. You pretended to swing the sword again, with clumsy maneuvering and when Zoro went to bat it away you chucked the sword aside, dodging his blade, hitting him square in the stomach with your shoulder. It was meant to take him down but he didn’t budge against you. It was as though you were pushing against a damn tree. You remembered just then how it felt fighting your father, how unmovable he was. You were raising your knee before you could even stop yourself as he knee him square between the legs. A rush of air leaves his lips and the way his body shifts you know you finally caught him off balance. You sweep a leg out from under him and with all the force in your body you shove against him. You both slam against the forest floor, your hips straddling his abs as you jam your forearm down against his neck, successfully pinning him beneath you. He looks up at you with immeasurable annoyance. 
“You’re a dirty fighter.” He huffs, groaning in pain. You nod your head, a proud fact you already knew. 
“You’ve met my father, right?” You jest. This was something new you were learning. Since joining up with Luffy’s crew there were a few things you had to learn. 
They weren’t out to get you. 
You were raised by a killer, his crew were a bunch of killers so naturally you grew up always keeping watch of those around you because the moment you slacked out someone would have their hands around your neck just waiting to extinguish your fire. 
2. You had to soften up and learn to work as a member of a team. 
This one you were still working on. You were alone most of your life, your father never spared you a kind word and sometimes at night you’d lay awake, knowing you were just like him sometimes. You guarded every part of your heart so well that sometimes you could trick yourself into thinking you never had one to begin with. But it beat the day you met Luffy’s crew. They saved you, even when you were good, they knew who and where’d you’d come from and still accepted you for who you were. That meant to you that you had to change. If you wanted to stay a member of this crew you had to let them in. You couldn’t push them away because one bad day would come and they’d stay away. You didn’t think you could survive that. Knowing that there was warmth in this world that you turned cold. 
3. Lastly, how to protect someone. 
You could protect yourself just fine because you’d been left behind in wakes your entire life. But you wouldn’t do that to them. You’d stay and fight because that’s what they did for you. You weren’t just looking out for yourself anymore, you had people, possibly a family, it’d take the devil himself to pull that from your grip. 
“Yeah I met him, he’s an asshole, like you.” Zoro grunts, his pinned hands escaping from your fingers as he turns the tide, swinging you to your back, pressing you into the dirt. You’re not sure where his sword came from but the wooden edge of it was pressed gently against your throat. He beat you. You groaned out a sigh as he cocked his head to the side. 
“I had you.” You fume as he purses his lips, he’s heavy against you, it feels like ten men rather than one. 
“For a second.”
“That’s all a killer needs.” You dared. He must’ve seen that look in your eyes before because he presses the sword ever closer to your neck, but not hard enough to actually hurt. 
“We’re done for today.” He says and suddenly his weight is lifted off you and you feel as though you could finally breathe again. You didn’t know you were holding your breath. Zoro extends a hand to you, narrowing his eyes. “No funny business, I’m hungry.” He warns because for someone who’s only known you for a few months he knows you pretty damn well. Knew that look in your eye, that you would take his hand and end up trying to pin him beneath you again. He knew you hated to lose. You took his hand and did nothing of the sort because you were hungry too. He pulled you to your feet with ease and kept hold of your hand for a second as he spoke. “You’re a good fighter, don’t give up on practicing.” He says and the look in his eye is intense, he meant it. He lets your hand go and bends to grab the practice sword that you tossed aside. 
“I don’t see the point in it, I fight better close.” 
“You can fight better any way you choose. You master the sword and you give yourself more options.” He says, tossing it to you, you catch it with ease.
“More options?”
“To survive. You want that don’t you?” He asks over his shoulder, walking back towards the camp that the crew had set up near the beach. You never thought of it like that before. You learned how to fight because your father needed someone unassuming to kill. Who’s more unassuming than a young girl? You always fought to kill, to end lives, you never cared much for your own. Who could care for a killer after all? Zoro slowed, tossing a glance over his shoulder at you after you took too long to answer.
“Of course I want that.” But your words sounded hollow. There was still that nagging voice of your fathers. There was only so many times someone you looked up to could call you worthless before you started to believe it. It was ingrained in you. To live but not feel worthy of life. Maybe you did want to live, but that didn’t mean you felt like you deserved to. You’d done wrong your entire life, killed and followed in the footsteps of someone you knew was bad. Didn’t that make you guilty of something? 
Zoro’s eyes dissected you, that face you made and the tone of your voice. He was a smart man and for all his faux uninterested stare he read you like a damn book. Like he’d cracked open your mind and read your innermost secrets. It was strange, having someone who you couldn’t fool. Someone who could look at you and call bullshit. 
“Do you just want to survive for the sake of others or for yourself?” He asked, slowing to a stop. Crickets chirped around you, wind picking up, swaying the leaves of the trees gently. You stopped too, mindlessly turning the practice sword over in your hands. 
“Is that a trick question?” You asked and watched him shake his head. You turn the question over in your head. “Surviving for yourself is quite selfish right?” 
“Not necessarily.” He breathes out, walking and plopping down listlessly on a stump, he stretches out his legs. “You charge into things head on, you don’t wait for others to act.”
“That’s a good thing.” You cross your arms defensively. “How else would you catch enemies by surprise?”
“By others I meant your crew. When you charge into things you could end up getting hurt.” He countered, you kick at a raised root and toss your head back a bit dramatically. 
“But if I kill the bad guys first you guys have nothing to worry about.” 
“We’d still worry about you.”
“Why?” You questioned as though someone worrying about you was way out of the realm of possibility. 
“Because you aren’t a martyr, we don’t need you throwing yourself on the knife.” Zoro argues, it’s one of the first times he seems interested in what he’s talking about. Passionate even. “I know what you’re used to. That’s why I wanted to train you.”
“So I can fight with a long blade instead of a short one?” You quipped. 
“So you can fight next to me.” He says as though you should’ve known. You look up from the ground over to him. He has this strange look in his eyes, the kind of strange look Sanji gave you sometimes, though Sanji looked at every girl like that. But not Zoro, the man was inexpressive usually. 
“Fight next to you?” You echo, as if trying the words out loud would give them a different meaning. Zoro nods his head. 
“Wouldn’t it be nice? Not having to wonder who has your back?” He asks. You look at him, something stirring inside you. 
“Is that what you want?” You start. “Someone who can keep up with you?” 
He nods his head. 
“Don’t you?” You ponder it for a moment. 
“I guess, yeah.” You say softly. “I feel like I keep up with you just fine.”
“You could be better.” Zoro jests, pushing off the stump he sat on.  
“I took you down, big man.” You growl, jogging to catch up with him as the sun starts to set. 
“You cheated.”
“I was being… resourceful.” You said and heard Zoro laugh, a warm laugh coming from his chest. You never heard him laugh before, probably in the same way he’d never heard you laugh. You both were somewhat serious types. 
“Sure, let’s call it that.” He intones. 
Back at the campsite the first person to greet you and Zoro was Sanji. Ever since landing on this island Sanji had been acting somewhat differently to Zoro, almost colder. You had no idea what that was about and honestly you didn’t care, not presently because they always bickered anyways. 
“There you guys are!” Sanji all but growls, shooting dagger at Zoro. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He says, giving you a kind smile.
“We didn’t mean to keep you guys, you could’ve eaten.” You say as Sanji shakes his head, guiding you with a gentle hand on your back towards the food. 
“Nonsense, it was no trouble.” Sanji croons as you look towards the rest of the crew. Luffy has his hands crossed against his chest tightly, his face scrunched in annoyance. 
“It was a little trouble.” Luffy grumbles as Sanji shoots daggers at him. You sit down, Sanji occupying the seat next to you as Zoro plops down in the sand across from you. It's quiet as everyone digs into their food. 
“How is it?” Sanji asks, eyes watching you. You’d just filled your mouthful, unable to answer right at that moment.
“It’s a little salty.” Usopp chided as Sanji hurled a dinner roll at him.
“I wasn’t asking you!” Sanji ranted, the roll hitting Usopp square between the eyes. You and Luffy both snort in laughter. You laugh, almost choking on your food which serves to make you two laugh even harder. Sanji turns to you with a worried expression, lightly hitting your back as you're able to swallow your food properly. You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you give Sanji a small smile. 
“It tastes good, Sanji, thank you.” You say and Sanji practically melts. 
“Usopp’s right,” Zoro starts, a mischievous look in his eyes. “It’s a bit salty.” Sanji’s eyes turn to slits as he grabs another roll, hucking it at Zoro who catches it with ease, grinning before taking a bite out of it. 
“I don’t care what you think because my dear Y/n likes it.” Sanji proclaimed, turning to you. “Would you like some more, dear?”
“Sure.” You shrug as he practically stumbles over himself to grab you more. Your eyes meet with Zoro’s, he gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. Zoro liked messing with Sanji and most of the time it was pretty funny. Sanji took a big liking to you and Zoro liked to tease him about it. You weren’t sure what it was that Sanji liked about you but he was always quick to give you anything you asked for. Sanji fills your plate and as the night winds down Luffy, Nami and Usopp take off for bed. 
You sit by the fire next to Sanji, your legs pulled to your chest as he leans back, eyes staring at the stars. It’s quiet, just the sound of the fire crackling and the waves of water crashing nearby. Your eyes watch the fire as it slowly lulls you into comfort. Suddenly a blanket is placed over your shoulders as you blink, eyes watering. You turn to see Zoro as he plops down near you. You silently thank him, pulling the covers closer to your chest, shielded from the cold. Something burning hotter was the look you caught sight of from Sanji, he looked as though he was seconds away from challenging Zoro to a duel. But when he noticed you his face morphed into a smile again. 
“Is a measly blanket gonna be enough to keep you warm, my dear?” Sanji asks. “I could scoot closer to you?” He offers.
“The blanket’s good.” You answer, unaware of the implications. Zoro snorts beside you, amused at something you weren’t sure of. 
“Do you have something to add, Zoro?” Sanji hisses as Zoro, face unphased as he shrugs his shoulders. 
“Sanji?” You start.
“Yes, dear?” He asks, voice all soft, way different from the tone he was using a second ago. 
“Did Zoro do something to make you angry?” You ask, making Zoro snort again. Sanji shakes his head.
“Nothing more than usual, dear, no need to worry.” He says and you nod your head, satisfied with that answer, eyes sliding back towards the fire. “Could I ask you something?”
“Hmm?” You hum, watching the flames flicker and dance. 
“What’s your type?” He asks. Zoro doesn’t snort this time, he fully laughs, gaining an angry stare from Sanji. “Shut your mouth you damn idiot!” Sanji yells across the fire at Zoro. “You’re ruining the moment!”
“My type of what?” You ask cluelessly. Zoro can’t help but laugh even more. You look over at him, confused but he’s laughing so hard his eyes are closed. You look back at Sanji.
“Ignore that damn fool, dear. Your type in a partner.” He explains. 
“Type in a partner?” You echo, Zoro slowly quiets down next to you. Sanji nods his head. You purse your lips, thinking. You and Zoro fought pretty well together the few times you had to, it was just mere hours ago that he told you he liked the idea of fighting with you and you had to admit you didn’t mind that also. “I guess Zoro would be my type.” You say, completely unaware of the havoc you just caused. Sanji clamps a hand to his chest dramatically over his heart. You look at Zoro, his cheeks blushing a moment before he begins a fit of laughter all over again. Understanding the miscommunication before you and Sanji do. 
“You hear that, Sanji? I’m her type.” Zoro boasts jokingly, throwing an arm around your shoulders, loving the effect it was having on Sanji. Sanji looked like a deflated balloon. Sanji sinks back into the sand as you cock your head, confused. Zoro gives your shoulder a small squeeze as you look back over at him. “He meant romantic partner.” He whispers just to you. Your eyebrows raise, mouthing the word ‘oh’.
“I’m sorry, Sanji, I thought you meant fighting partner.” You corrected and Sanji shot back up, hopefulness on his face again.
“It’s okay, dear, you scared me there.” Sanji sighs wistfully, running a hand through his hair. Zoro’s arm moves away from you as you look back at him. 
“Keep it there.” You order softly. “I was getting warm.” Zoro’s brows raise in surprise but he does as you ask, even scooting a bit closer to you. When you look back at Sanji his jaw is practically touching the sand. “What?” You ask innocently, he shuts his mouth instantly, shaking his head. 
“N-nothing.” He turns away, kicking sand at the fire. You feel Zoro laugh softly. You had no idea what sort of nonverbal conversation these two were having and honestly you didn’t care to know. You close your eyes, leaning into Zoro’s warmth. Romantic partner. You were thinking about it now because you’d never thought about it before. There was no love where you came from, no positive role models, no romantic tension. That stuff was way out of your realm of understanding.
“How do you know your type?” You ask, turning to look at Sanji. His eyes meet yours, his eyes glancing at Zoro’s arm around your shoulders then back to you. 
“That's a hard one to explain.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. 
“Is it something you just know?” You ask and Sanji nods his head. 
“More or less, yeah,” Suddenly he lets out a big yawn, stretching. “Boy am I beat. Are you tired?” He asks you.
“Not really.” You say and watch as he pouts. 
“Maybe you should head off to bed then.” Zoro says. Sanji’s eyes glare his way as he grumbles, pushing up from the sand and dusting himself off. 
“Night,” He says sharply, trudging across the sand back towards the ship. You watch him go. 
“He is so strange.” You whisper, earning a warm laugh from Zoro. 
“You're clueless, you know that.” He remarked with another soft laugh. You turn to look at him.
“Why?” You ask, his eyes slide to yours. 
“He likes you, killer, a lot.” Zoro explains. You furrow your brows, you already knew he liked you, he treated you very kindly. “And I know what you're thinking. It’s not that kind of like.”
“What other kind is there?” This garners another laugh. “Stop laughing at me!”
“I’m sorry,” Zoro chuckles, smiling warmly. “He likes you… romantically.” He emphasizes and suddenly everything starts falling into place in your mind. He was always going out of his way for you, giving you extra food, following you around like a lost puppy, practically begging for your attention. 
“Hm.” You hum, turning back to look at the fire. 
“Hm?” Zoro echoes. “You sound mildly uninterested.”
“Eh, I don’t- I guess I don’t understand.”
“Which part?”
“Why would he like me? That makes no sense.” You say and for a moment Zoro is quiet, you turn to look at him, his cheeks pink, probably from the heat of the fire you guessed. 
“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asks. And when you just look at him quizzically he pities you a bit. He inhales, sighing. “You do know you're gorgeous right?” He asks as though you did know that. That was not what you were expecting him to say. You can’t remember the last time someone referred to you in a positive connotation. 
“I-- I don’t think so.” You say, your cheeks feel hot under Zoro’s stare, you feel slightly nervous suddenly, but not a bad nervous, you're not really sure how to explain it. It’s completely new to you.
“Well you are. And you're strong, men love strong women.” Zoro goes on, he’s leaning back slightly, his arm still around you as he gazes up at the stars. You bite your lip, your mouth feels dry. Were you getting sick or something? 
“Do you?”
“Hell yeah I do, I’m not an idiot.” He says, amused. You nod your head. 
“Hm.” You say and he looks at you with that amused expression. “But what does him liking me have to do with you? He looked angry with you all night?” You ask, piecing things together in your mind.
“He’s jealous, killer.” He says. 
“Jealous, huh…” You trail off. “Because you're a good partner?” You ask and he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head.
“Sure, let's go with that.” He intones. You lay your head back down on his shoulder, settling against him. You always found your way to Zoro, you two had grown pretty close in the past few weeks. He was a calming presence, one you always seeked out. You liked sitting near him, talking with him and training with him. You liked when he talked and when he looked at you. It was strange, you’d never felt that way before meeting him. Never let your guard down but he just felt like a calming, safe presence to you. 
“What’s your type?” You ask and you feel Zoro tense up slightly, you turn slightly to look up at him. “Something wrong?”
“No, nothings wrong.” He says, recovering smoothly. “Are we talking about fighting partners?” He jokes, earning a laugh from you.
“Apparently not.” You answer. Waiting for a reply. Zoro’s arm slightly tightens around you, pulling you just a bit closer as he fixes the cover that had fallen off your shoulder. 
“I think I might keep that a mystery.” He answers as you huff out a laugh. 
“Keep your secrets then.” You say, letting your eyes drift closed. Sanji’s words float back into your mind, when you asked if liking someone was just something that you knew and he said more or less. It was something you just knew? That was harder to understand for you. “I think I’d like someone who I feel safe with.” You find yourself saying aloud as you try and imagine what that means, you were still kind of getting fighting partner mixed up with a romantic partner because both options you felt you needed someone you could trust.
“That’s a good thing to look out for, killer.” He says softly. You think hard. You felt safe with Zoro, you felt comfortable enough to rest against him. You couldn’t see yourself doing that with Sanji although you trusted him you didn’t want to be that close. Your mind was reeling now. So you liked being close to Zoro? Did that mean anything or nothing at all? You squeezed your eyes shut.
“Romance is confusing.” You find yourself saying. Zoro chuckles, nodding his head.
“Damn straight.” You lift up slightly as he turns to meet your eyes.
“How do you know you know, you know?” You ask as Zoro’s brows raise.
“I don’t know?” He asks as you purse your lips. 
“Sanji said your type was just something you knew,” You puzzled. 
“Killer, I think you may be overthinking it.” Zoro says. 
“What if you think you like someone but you're not completely sure?” You ask as Zoro hums slightly, thinking up an answer for you. 
“I guess- I guess you could kiss them.” He offers and you nod your head, leaning forwards to press a quick, searching kiss to Zoro’s lips. For someone so rough around the edges his lips are surprisingly soft against yours, cold from the night time wind. When you pull back Zoro’s eyes are closed, his cheeks as red as cherries. He slowly opens his eyes, he’s stunned to say the least. 
“I’ve never kissed someone before.” You say, eyes glancing back down at his lips. You kissed him too quickly to tell if anything came from it. “I’m gonna try again.” You say and he stammers but doesn’t object as you scoot closer and lean to press your lips back against his. You leave them there for a moment. You’d seen people kiss before but trying it now you were completely unsure of the correct way to do it. You feel something bloom but you're pulling away before you can put meaning to it. “I suck at this. You do it.” You say as Zoro finally finds his words. 
“You kissed me.” He says shocked and you nod your head. 
“It was bad, I don’t know what I’m doing. This is like training with a sword all over again.” You grumble, pouting and crossing your arms.
“You just need a good instructor.” Zoro’s hand slides up from your shoulder to your cheek, moving your face to face him. You have no time to access the way your stomach bottoms out at that before he’s bringing you flush against his lips this time in a delicate embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, a shock zaps through you at the contact. Zoro knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled in more ways than fighting it seemed. You burned all over, your breath catching in your throat. Sanji was right, you knew right then. Right as he pulled you impossibly closer and kissed you with fervor and confidence. When he pulled back your lips chased after him slightly as you stopped yourself. You swallowed dryly. 
“Was that good for you?” He asks, his voice all breathy and hoarse. 
“Uh huh.” You exhale. It's quiet for a beat. “I think,” you start, clearing your throat. “I think maybe you should try again.” You whisper and you don’t have to say anything else because Zoro understands. That and he’s kissing you before you can utter another word.                         
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t-underneaththeradardancing · 4 months ago
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a rara avis Cinder pic and update - she hatez 2 b fotographed but as we rote - so glad 2 c me she forgot to be mad - we mostly missed caturday frog friday and all of thursday
and
maybe even poetry -tho if ur squeamish ( i am actually but this wuz my reality ) or only follow casually - you might wanna scroll on and stroll on like a yardbird to the next post on ur dash
so imma facing mortality - and so far still here and now - and really - wtf do we have but now
on with the ( horror ) show - witch must go on u no - cuz the Bard say its a stage
voluminous bloody diarrhea - we will hereafter refer to as vbd -cuz
(ok i warned u - it gets worser so again - feel free to skip the rest - really - we wont bee offended )
but 1st a reminder that here and now - t iz at home w his wife and kitty - good and always - waiting for murder and birdsong and the usual usual...
and like blanche we get by w the kindness of strangers on this streetcar
the vbd started in the middle of the nite train - bout 230 am thursday - woke up and in the dark the 1st bout and we thinks - oh no not another bout of colitis not knowing about the b (ignorance is bliss) - head back 2 bed and then have to - this time i have the light on - and see b on the floor that dripped - and another episode of vbd this time knowing - i call out loudly for unpoet to waken - after this it abates - we try to plan - and another vbd - 911 time - and the kindness begins w the operator then the ambulance crew - in the ER vbd actually gets worse - sitting on a commode w no privacy - it abates a bit - they put ports in each arm cuz we gonna need them - on the way to a ct scan i get 2 use an actual bathroom i am at the sink washing my hands and the vbd gushes down my legs - theres door knock - i say just a minnit trynna get the terror down - unlock the door and jest standing there - an ER doc comes in trynna calm me - as the panic subside he gently cleans me - not waiting 4 a nurse - eventually we get thru this and ct - a hospital room - a commode in view of many hospital workers - iv fluids waiting for b to get a transfusion - 2 pints of b hooked up to machines its hard 2 navigate from bed to commode - and wiping is impossible - a stranger wiping my bloody ass - and this happens over and over - with different strangers - all being kind and gentle as can b - and we begin the prep for a colonoscopy - under the best of circumstances - awful - and increases the frequency - i am told the bleeding part usually abates on its own before the colonoscopy even starts - anyway thats the next couple or three hours and then to ICU - i see u is right - in plain view and more kindness - we tell head nurse we are getting used 2 the total lack of dignity the b abates but the frequency - of the v and d increases cuz of the prep
flashbacks - 1 -the last hospital stay - a heart attack - the staff was not as kind and been terror fried of dying in a hospital ever since - and 2 - a friend in similar circumstance posting vid defiantly dancing in her hospital gown
fuck u death not today
anyway - we knew before we had diverticulitis - has not caused a prob in 10 years - and the likely culprit - but since bleeding stopped no intervention or anything to b done
sum releaf cuz no signs of cancer but told having 1 episode increases chances of 2nd and if there is a 3rd will have 2 remove part of colon
dinner is ice chips tho a few hours later some jello - nurse telling me they avoided the strawberry cuz of color laffing
anyway hooked to machines - peeing in a bottle - we spend the night in eye see u
about midnight a night nurse comes in 2 do something - dont remember what - he asks if theres anything we want - "a hamburger would b nice " laff - "with fries" he asks and offers tea - we have tv on as distraction tho only managed to follow 1 show
we dont sleep well in hotel rooms usually even nice one - the exception being one by the ocean close enough to hear waves break in the night quiet - and icu is anything but quiet - machines beeping mostly - the sound of automatic blood pressure monitor every 15 minutes at 1st then hourly - both arms are hooked up to something - and finger sticks and blood draws on the side - exhausted and hungry we manage to sleep 15 minutes a few times
ok we rap it up - morning - jello and liquid nourishment drink am promised some "real " food " 4 lunch - broth and yogurt and another nutrition drink
jest b4 dinner - chicken soup and pudding - am moved to a regular room - w an actual bathroom w a door - a small portable monitor hooked up - with someone wheeling in blood pressure / respiratory monitor every few hours - and blood draws about every 4 and the long night goes on - at about 4 am look out window behind me and there is the moon - we posted the foto
after a reel bfast - eggs and biscuit - oatmeal - yogurt we have a "normal" ie no b ( yay ) -poop - augers well for being released
and here and now we r home
weak af and trepidation verging on terror of another
so in the hospital - everything is the brutal efficient overkill that is modern medicine but we aint gonna critique that today
happy 2 b home - unpoet and kitty - more kind messages than can respond 2 - but trying - sorry if we havent at least thanked u
hoping for some birdsong and sunshine onnna gospel sunday
"i know a place - aint nobody crying " sing it sister Mavis
can i get a hallelujah anyway
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hippieuncle · 22 days ago
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Kathy's making good points it's just they're halfway the lecture, 3 hours in and haven't had a coffee break yet
Little side gig RVB oc thingy I'm playing with......
A small group assembles after finding a washed up Freelancer, going under the title of Free Bird Innovations.
Neuroscientist and Hardware Designer -
Theophilus Papadopoulos, a man with a big head, thinks he can do it better than everyone else when it comes to cyber implants and AI projects by so so gracefully copying superior ex-projects and hounding down remains of information. Despite his hush hush and snubbing attitude, he is pretty happy with his crew, and treats them fairly. (Kentucky is an Exception)
Cybernetics and Programming -
Kathy Beaumont, a driven lady who is simply thrilled to be on a small but ambitious project. Her enthusiasm comes out in excessive ramblings and boisterous team-work mindset. If she isn't feverishly typing away code hunched over her PC, it's highly likely she's browsing Ebay for weird knicknacks and doodads
Health Care Psychologist, Neurosurgeon - Luella DuPlessis, sweet woman who'se gracefully nearing her retirement and wishfully living towards those days whilst she not only supervises and nurses Kentucky, she also provides meals from her self-written cookbook. A compassionate, rational, and resillient woman forged into the wise individual she is today. Despite never having been a mother, she's often called that in jest by the team.
Secretary and Assistant -
[Not pictured.] Assistant Reeves is a well educated young man, the others speculate he is distantly related to Theophilus; with little proof to back it up it remains a rumor. He handles everything from communication, diplomacy and interviews.
(Ex)Freelancer - Agent Kentucky
After having gone MIA due to the directions Project Freelancer had taken, Kentucky was retrieved by the current crew and medically supervised. There is technically nothing wrong with Kentucky, but due to his gullible nature, the crew has pulled the wool over his eyes and utilizes his easy personality to graditually get more information; and more importantly, have a willing guineapig for when the time's right for implants. He's a sweet country boy.
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tinydefector · 11 months ago
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Hi Tiny! (First time I’ve asked to this blog, or any blog in general) Not really a request, feel free to not acknowledge this, these are simply some thoughts inspired by the Human effects series that I wanted to share with you!
For one, human doctors who are passionate about how the human body works finding cybertronian forums and trying to communicate info on how human bodies work like
- start of dialogue -
Ilovecatssupreme: no @/jewelsmoneygoldgalore(or whatever swindles username would be) that is NOT how the human body works!!
Don’t try (insert sex act here), you would KILL them!
And @/revuppowerup humans do NOT HAVE CLOACAS!! Guys please we aren’t birds we have two seperate holes
[insert fun fact about human anatomy that would probably scare the shit out of a cybertronian here]
- end of dialogue -
I just think it’d be hillarious to see a human doctor who is appalled going “guys, that’s not how that works!! It works like this-“ and proceeds to explain the human body and our parts
On a similar note, thought / scenario; a human doctor part of Y/n’s crew possibly being interested in learning more about cybertronian biology but not wanting to come off rude or overly personal with questions, especially with the cultural differences between the species they may not wanna ask things that come off weird or creepy, would possibly get along with brainstorm over wanting to know for research purposes!!
Another thought that comes to mind, cybertronians finding human forums with human monster fuckers goin: yeah sure I’d bang a cybertronian, some of their ambassadors are hot / Optimus prime kinda hot
It just seems funny, like I just imagine some people from different parts of the world like; “how do cybertronians flirt? I got this person who buys my supplies and i wanna get them to pay more” (swindle vs their supplier who can seduce who for more profit first/j I jest i jest)
But I think it’d be neat to see cybertronians figuring out that a portion of humanity is definitely interested and wants to know how to get with them safely(optional)
Also just me saying this, Nadia, mentioned on ‘Chaos on board’ is so far one of my favorite original(?) characters in the human effects series, I definitely wanna find out where her attempts at getting free drinks from swerve go
Either way loving the series so far! I can’t wait to see where it goes next, wether or not it continues considered,
Remember to take care of yourself, take breaks, the usual! <33
Oh the chaos that would insure. Both medical personnel from both sides having to sit down with their crew or people and go. " Please do not fuck/frag the cybertronian /human, we do not have the knowledge or resources to know if it's safe"
But also watching the scientists and medics working together to see what is actually possible and viable. Have to run fluid tests and samples to see if it's possible for a safe relationship between a human and cybertronian. But also the sheer shock when both sides find out that their 'equipment' is very similar.
And oh, the forums, there are so many. So are simple as just polls of 'would you frag a human?. Yes or no' then there's the secret polls shared between friends groups with a list of mech or human's to see who everyone seems to have a thing for.
It eventually leads to anonymous role play groups over fantasy, fanfiction sites, informational sites, and even rare hook up sites. Sharing information over their species. And God forbid when the hook up sites get around on both sides.
But can you imagine any medical staff getting a call for help and showing up to someone quarters to find a human and bot stuck together. Medics being baffled, shocked, impressed, horrified, and disappointed.
I'm planning on keeping human effects as the small series I've got going but if you guys want another spin off on it heading more in the horny direction I'm happy to make another. Probably call it Sites unknown or something like that.
Slowly working on the next part of human effects and I'm glad you guys like the crew had alot of fun writing them, and I might do a little spin off fic of Nadia and Swerve in the future in people really want it.
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maryanddeadthings · 2 months ago
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I am baaaack with another snip for this week’s chapter. A reunion is coming! And all I have to say is, the situation between Caz and Suze is getting a wee more complicated.
(For context, Suze and Caz are no longer married in my AU. Suze has remarried, it’s been ten years since the explosion, and Caz’s supposed demise.)
The Box Hub was filling with tables, chairs, and refreshments. Morsels like mini quiches, potato skins, devilled eggs, and berry tarts. Josie sparing no expense with prawn cocktails and even a bucket of oysters. Of course, having to throw her Gallic taste to her Scottish friends, she ordered a tray of escargot. She compiled as many pictures as she could of all the crew from the seventies and sixties and hung them along the walls with fairy lights. An activity for them to gather and reminisce. Remember the happier days before the explosion. Before the harrowing confusion of their return. When things were simpler and made sense. She was hellbent on replicating it. Ignoring the giant, roaring elephant in the room, and focus on what really mattered. That they were all alive and well.
The hired bar was bringing in many Scottish brews. Tennent’s Lager, Scotch Whiskey, and Buckfast, all while a DJ prepped his stand with readily available records ranging from the seventies to the present.
Josie wasn’t alone, she was happy to have help from Caz, Cait, Maidie, and most surprisingly, Suze. With her attention mostly pressed on perfection and barking at the other workers, the McLeary crew were busy to their own tasks. But every now and then, catching Maidie and Cait’s alarm, Suze and Caz would exchange a word. Glances and smiles. Even a jest and some laughter. It was surreal to witness, but neither dared to test it. They kept quiet but attentive, their ears listening as their eyes and movements arranged the hall for the party. Little did they know, Suze and Caz’s exchange was a display for them.
Josie called for Cait or Maidie to go and grab the boxes of water bottles from the car, both the girls opted to it, finally leaving Suze and Caz alone. Of course, they both fell silent. Suze stayed fussing the pictures on the line, as Caz huffed with the tables. She plucked one picture, it was Caz. She flicked her eyes back to startle he was staring, too. Her hair flied to her face when she turned her head away. Then Caz came over, “I remember that.”
He referred to the photo. His earlier boxing days. His skin glistening in sweat, a nose bruised and bloodied. Yet, that wasn’t the recall he meant. Suze knew what he meant, and she stayed quiet. Her thoughts twisted and chest weighted as he came to her side and took the photo. “My nose was no the same after that.”
“Aye,” smiled Suze, a voice soft. “I… saw you quickly after, right?”
“Right. How could I forget?”
It was the night they reunited. Both in their mid twenties. Suze had recently started seeing Chamberlain, Caz’s boxing career was just starting to take off. Then they met, and both ventures ended. Their lives changed. After that, it quickly became just the two of them.
Caz gave the picture back for Suze to hang up, and she stayed looking for a moment indulgently. In a moment without the girls, without Elliot, with Josie’s distracted quarreling with staff not at all paying attention, she glanced up to Caz. Her eyes soft and sparkling, as if tears were trying. Caz could not ignore it, and the stress lines on his face faded. No words, but so much being said. Neither foolish enough to say what it was.
Caz muttered, “Suze.” His hand hovering up for her own, then immediately letting it fall back to his side. Little did he know, Suze almost had. The exact reason why Suze cowered from seeing him till now was coming to play like a hunger that could not be sated. Feelings long forgotten now raging and pulsing, nearly sending her into shakes. In that moment she forgot all reasoning. She forgot she was a good wife. She forgot, entirely. All that existed in that moment was him.
Much to her relief, Cait and Maidie came back loudly, causing Caz to drift back to the tables as if nothing changed. Suze was less savvy, she was left before the photo wall still clutching the one of Caz - grieving the moment, already.
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chaoortu · 2 months ago
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Chao
Chao
The movie announcement!!! I am genuinely excited for it.
I know that it'll shave off a lot of development for some of the characters (which is a shame cuz the reason I personally wanted a s4 is to see Imogen and Isaac more, the rest of the gang at least get a webcomic ending), but considering that I thought it was gonna get cancelled only 3 months ago, I'm just ecstatic.
Honestly the number ONE thing I'm most excited for is to see Kit act his ass off in a Nick breakdown (that will be coming forsure).
I also hope they keep the crew from the series, the cast seems to be comfortable around them and it'll probably keep the tone of HS the same.
DUDE I AM SO PUMPED FOR A MOVIE!!!! I really hope the movie will narrow down the arcs for the characters bc they weren't as tight in the third season as they could have been. I'd love to see Imogen and Isaac have their own moments. I was sort of holding my breath on it because I think Netflix would be dumb as hell to not continue HS but then again, Netflix is allergic to making money anyway... (I jest... maybe.) Kit will be acting his ass off and delivering, I believe that. I am so excited to see how he'll portray the "I had a dream you died" scene from the comic. I know it will wreck me to pieces. He wrecked me to pieces in Warfare and he only had like six lines, his face just had that emotionality every time the camera was on him. I think drunk Nick will also be quite fun as well as Nick sort of slipping back into people pleaser mode. The show does a better job at balancing Nick's friendship with Tara, Darcy, and Elle so I hope we see someone other than Charlie call him on it sooner. One thing I do appreciate abt the show is that we see more of Nick's interpersonal relationships outside of Charlie <3 hard agree! I'm hopeful that they'll work on a more mature/less bubblegum portrayal of the show now that the characters and actors are older and the themes are changing.
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thephonemenarentreal · 2 months ago
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And here is one of the fics I was working on the other day, all finished and fluffy <3 Outpost 51 crew going out to sit about in nature for their stupid mental health :b
Title: The Great Outdoors Rating: PG
Characters: The Outpost 51 Crew, Focus on Civic and Hubble
Guest Staring: Right who belongs to @pughat
answering the prompt about Cameraman wanting to see a bug by @lensman-arms-race and just some cute fluff all around!
Summary: Everyone needs a day to get out and touch grass sometimes.
The day was a beautiful one. The sky was an immaculate blue, expansive with only a few wispy clouds floating by. The sound of rushing water over the small waterfall filled the air as it came crashing down into a deep still pool of water, crystal clear, and reflecting the sky like a mirror before it was caught up to the far edge to flow down towards a fast moving slip of a river where it churned white frot over large rocks. All of this was against the backdrop of towering mountains, white tipped like the teeth of some beast with thick forests crowded about their roots. From the spot, there was a scenic overlook, stretching over the forest and meadows towards the scrub lands in the distance and the rise of the desert further than that. The place was beautiful and tranquil, far from the war and for a moment, it was easy to forget that the world was starting to fall apart at the seams somewhere out there.
It was the Outpost 51 secret spot. Just a place to rest for a solitary minute.
Civic pushed back the bucket hat adorned with purple flowers he was wearing to give a satisfied look over the plants he had put in along the bank. He had gone out of his way to pick out native flowers, from the milkweed, to cone flowers, to laurels in their bright colors. In a few weeks, the plants would be plenty bushy, attracting all sorts of insects to their bounty and hopefully spread the seeds further. The cameraman let out a satisfied huff, sitting back on his heels, more than pleased with his work.
“Civic! I found a bug!”
The cameraman turned his head as Hubble bound over to him, hands cupped carefully around something that was angrily buzzing between his fingers, “It is this big fuzzy bug! Like a bee. But fuzzy!”
Civic snorted, shaking his head as Hubble opened up his hand to reveal the disgruntled bumblebee he had caught.
“Kid? Ats a bumblebee. Best to let da little guy git back to their bidness,”
“Bumblebee?” Hubble looked down as the bumblebee gave a flutter of its wings before it was zooming up to bury itself in the purple flowers roped about Civic’s hat.
“Mmhmm, Fat little tings, but friendly enough. jest aht and abaht hunting fer flahrs, expecially purple ones,” Civic said as he picked up his small trowel again.
Hubble’s lens flexed as he watched the bumblebee roll around in the purple flowers a bit before zooming off again, “I see,” the sniper cameraman shifted a bit before he crouched down awkwardly to look at what Civic was doing, “Is that why you are planting flowers?”
“Sort of. Also planting it fer a lot of other insects aht dere that like flahrs too, like butterflies, bees, and even a ladybug or two whenever they go hunting fer aphids.” Civic said with a chuckle, “Always liked a touch of nature arahnd. Good fer da soul,”
“Yeah. It is nice when we get to come out here,” Hubble said, giving a look around, “Everyone is finally relaxing for once,”
Civic gave a hum, giving a glance around as well. The place was one they had set up for use by the Outpost, although they needed a quick teleportation by Paralipsis to get out there or have to take a four hour truck ride out to the plot of land. A small pavilion had been built with plenty of headroom for the taller units and eco-friendly furniture to sit on. An area to the side was set for composting, already filled with debris from the grass clippings as Civic had run the mower to wrangle the field back into use for Tremolo, Right, Prattle and Tattle. The four of them had put up a badminton net and had been at it for the better part of an hour.
Tremolo’s competitiveness was infectious it seemed as Right spiked the birdie onto the other side, letting out what accounted for a victorious shriek as Tremolo was already giving his own victory trill, sliding onto the ground like he had won the world championship.
“Ugh! Another round!” Prattle yelled, “Unless you two kidbop listening boomboxes are running out of energy!”
“Ha! Do you want to lose again that bad!?” Tremolo retorted, brandishing his racket towards the two cameras, “Because we will spank you soundly again like a mother to her unruly screaming child in the supermarket!”
“Yeah! Spank you soundly!” Right declared, pointing his racket at them as well, mimicking Tremolo.
Civic just shook his head, just glad they were having fun. Right had started to warm up to the shenanigans around here it seemed, although he avoided Paralipsis like the plague still. For good reason, Civic supposed, given the supervisor wanted to throw him back at the group he belonged to. According to Medic though, a close friend of Right was coming to pick him up in a few days time, coming in with the new recruits.
Apparently Paralipsis had done his job and hired an engineer and some temporary maintenance worker.
“Do you think your flower garden will get a lot of butterflies?” Hubble asked, wrapping his arms about his knees, “I heard that there aren’t as many butterflies around,”
“Maybe. Can only hope right?” Civic said with a shrug, “Maybe wit alls this war gowen on in da cities, places like iss will be left alone enough to start to recover again,”
Hubble gave a small nod, glancing over to the pavilion where Mr. Biggs sat holding a rather large tarantula in his hand, petting it delicately with one giant finger, “Or nature is just going to move in with us,”
“I told Biggs he should try to coax his tarantula to return to da wild and not da inner workings of his head,” Civic said with a snort, giving another look around the place, “Where’s da twins?”
“Over there, down by the river. They are trying to catch little fish to try and catch a big catfish,” Hubble said, his head swiveling in the direction of the river, “They want to see a real one,”
Civic snorted watching the twin speakermen in question skitter over the rocks of the river, clearly having abandoned their fish catching just to jump back and forth over the froth of the river with little care to the danger that would come if they slipped in. Always a pair of fearless idiots, that was for sure.
“Right,”
He turned his head more towards the waterfall, catching sight of Medic perched up on a rock where she was no doubt taking pictures. She was trying to find hobbies to do and scrapbooking was the thing she had landed on for now. Paralipsis was nearby, helping her up and down the rocks, although Civic noted the two were holding hands a little bit more.
A possible indicator they had maybe made up or Medic was pushing forward with her touch therapy and making Paralipsis endure physical contact with someone. Her reasoning was since he would talk about his problems to save his life, just holding hands and letting him know she was there when he finally wanted to say something was the next best thing.
Or something like that. Civic had to give it to the small camerawoman. She was tenacious and willing to try any angle, even if it was off the path. Apparently though the one coming to pick up Right was a therapist too and she was hoping maybe the camcorder would be able to find a way to crack the hardest cases on the base a little more.
“Civic, what’s that insect? Is it an insect? It looks really wormy!” Hubble piped up.
Civic’s attention swerved back to the flowers, cocking his head to the side as he looked at the fat caterpillar creeping up along some of the leaves of a nearby tree. He chuckled, raising out a hand to let it crawl onto his finger, “jest a caterpillar Hubble. Not sure of da type though. I don’t profess some nature expert or anything but guessing it is jest a hungry little ting,”
“It is really big,” Hubble said, watching as the caterpillar idly wiggled up Civic’s finger and onto his hand.
“Might be close to finding a nice place to make a cocoon and becoming a butterfly or moth,” Civic said, letting the insect crawl about on his hand before he lifted it back to the tree leaves, letting it inch back off.
Hubble watched it, giving a small chuckle, “Heh, well I guess some people also got to just lay around and eat or whatever before they can make a transformation,”
“Some people,” Civic agreed, picking up his trowel again, “Yinz want to help me plant da rest of da flahrs?”
Hubble perked up, nodding eagerly, “Sure! Just show me what to do!”
Civic just chuckled, but was more than happy to have help with his project. Gardening was relaxing, simple, and there was a sense of achievement when all the planting was done and one could watch their work grow day after day. Hubble was more than eager to help, flitting about here and there, as always, bundled up with energy that needed to be released. He was more than happy to rush to the river to get more water.
On the last run back, the twins followed after him, watching what they were doing for a moment before deciding they wanted to help, nudging and giggling with Hubble, their hands moving quickly as they seemed to be telling some story to the cameraman that was getting a sincere laugh out of the gangly cameraman.
Civic just gave a hum, continuing his work at his own pace, starting to think about maybe building a bridge over the river. Something sturdy so people could watch the water rush, maybe dangle feet off the edge into the water. He remembered doing that growing up in his hometown. Those old summer days in the woods just running about barefoot without a care in the world, only mindful for a coppersnake lurking about.
Good memories, just like today would be a good memory and the cameraman was sure it was going to be a good memory for everyone as he gave a glance around, watching as Tremolo laughed, carrying a victorious Right on his shoulders while Prattle and Tattle huffed and grumbled, but, as always, too good-natured to let another defeat get them down as they followed after the two back towards the waterfall.
Of where Medic was leaned up against Parlipsis as the TV man lounged out in the sun like a basking crocodile, his screen now showing that silly screen saver where the Alliance TV Faction symbol bounced about, just always shy of going into the corner. No doubt he was asleep. Give Paralipsis five minutes of downtime and he would enter sleep mode.
Civic rose to his feet as he watched Tremolo set Right down and was now trying to coax Prattle and Tattle to go waterfall jumping with him. A chuckle rose in the civil engineer as he rose to his feet, brushing himself off, “Getting a mite hot out here. I think I might go see about joining the others at the waterfahl pool,”
Hubble looked up before looking at the waterfall, “That looks fun, but is the pool deep enough for diving?”
“It is about fifteen feet down,” Civic said with a shrug, “Crystal clear water all the way down too,”
Hubble hopped to his feet, stretching out his legs as the twins looked over, already giving those interested little classical music trills before they were heading over, already stripping down to their boxers. Tremolo was already scampering up the rocks with Prattle and Tattle after him, the three always the first to start something of a hair brain scheme. Right sat at the edge, happy to splash his feet in the water as Mr. Biggs settled next to him doing the same. Medic had her eye fixed on the three idiots looking to jump off the water fall, shouting a warning which caused Paralipsis to snort and wake up, screen flicking with an annoyed look before he let out a yawn, rolling over onto his back, sprawling out and reaching up a hand to turn off his own screen to go right back to sleep.
Hubble was already yelling, jumping on one foot as he got down to his boxers, following the others up to the jump spot, as sure footed as a goat with the twins scrambling behind him, always eager to get into some new fun. Civic just shook his head as he unbuttoned his own shirt, dropping it on the pile on the shore, only pausing to pick up the pool float that had been left at the edge of the water, tossing it onto the water and flopping onto it.
It was a good day. One that would be a good memory for everyone.
Maybe there really was something to just going out and touching grass once and a while.
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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago
Text
Parts You Left Behind
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 7,300+
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Synopsis: You are the ship’s counselor aboard the Polar Tang. Giving your captain the permission he desires to behave idiotically with the two Nakama captains, you give yourself permission to behave with similar unbridled stupidity. The Soul-King Brook has your romantic attention: you love his energy and decide to reciprocate his flirtations, no matter how crass and distasteful they come across.
Themes: Brook x f!reader, therapist!reader x nakama-musician!brook, skeleton kisses, cheek kisses, platonic kisses, romantic kisses, angst, fluff, crews being themselves, validating feelings, requited love, flirtatious dialogue, talks of panties, heart-pirate!reader
Notes: this was meant to be a small drabble. And the same thing happens every time I try writing a small drabble - we end up with a full fic. Apparently I have a lot of angst inside about the Heart-Pirates that needed to get out, and also skeleton kisses. Posted a day late for the Skele-man's bday. Thank you to @since-im-already-here for helping me with boney kisses.
Tag List: @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff (sorry if you're all not into the skeleton. He needed some love)
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The air shifted the weight of salt-forward air through the strands of fallen hair which whipped across your face. The docking of the three ships, joined together by ropes and beams, were thrust into the hull by a soft thump. Your crewmate Shachi instinctively reached for your forearm to steady himself on, gritting his teeth as he adjusted to the new altitude above deck.
“You alright there, big boy?” you cocked your head to the side as Shachi balanced himself on your forearm and the metal beam framing the deck. He hid his head from view, shooting you a swift gesture with his thumb to indicate his well being. You smiled at him, shifting his weight on your arm by weaving yourself beneath his shoulder. 
Rubbing soothing circles onto his back, you aided him in adjusting to the altitude difference, as he grew accustomed to life above the barrier of the oceanic waves. Being at lower altitude saved Shachi’s sea-sickness from the swell of waves, rocking his body and causing his stomach to lurch with every rise of the ocean surface. 
“I got you, sweety,” you cooed at your red-headed crewman, holding him steady as he holds back the rise of bile in his throat: refusing to open the floodgates to expel the contents of his stomach, “Take some deep breaths for me, hun. Big one in,” you breathed with him inwards for three seconds, holding it briefly, “And then out,” you exhaled with him.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Good job,” you praised him, feeling a shudder in his shoulders as he fought back the sickness in his stomach and mouth. You breathed with him a few more times, praising him on every inhale and exhale that he took with you. Once adjusting to the pattern of the swelling ocean, he turned to face you.
“It’s just hard, you know? Being under the water, then over it again,” he commented, leaning into your touch with his back arching beneath your palm, “It’s the rocking that does it for me. Just the constant rocking.”
“I dunno,” you shrugged beneath his shoulders with a bitten-back, downturned smile, “I don’t mind a bit of constant rocking from time to time.” 
Shachi expelled a roar of laughter accompanied with your own at your unbridled jest. He hooked his arm over your shoulder and teetered off into a light chuckle. You looked up at your crewmen beneath your shoulder and shot him a winning smile. He reflected the expression on your lips with one of his own. 
“There’s a few members of the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews, hun,” Shachi commented, gesturing to the ship that had docked with your own with the index finger of the hand around your shoulders, “Maybe you could find some constant rocking amongst a few of them.”
Your captain, Trafalgar Law, made you aware of all of the crew that served the Captain of the Thousand Sunny. The ever growing list of occupants never seemed to end: Captain Luffy, First-Mate Zoro, Navigator Nami, Marksman Usopp, Chef Sanji, Doctor Chopper, Archeologist Robin, Shipwright Franky, and finally, the Musician Brook. 
Your role as the counselor of the Heart-Pirates, executing your position with the utmost excellence, had you immediately drawn to advise your captain with the Nakama encounters with the Straw-Hat Crew. You knew a few members of the crew, the person you seemed to gravitate towards the most was Nico Robin. Her level-headed dimenure alongside her ability to balance the rapport of the crew was truly admirable.  
The other was the playful musician, Brook. The first time you met with the Straw-Hat “Brook,” you were truly ill-prepared for what was to come of it. Where a few people found his straightforward approach of flirting with the opposite sex repulsive, you found it quite endearing. When he performed his melodic compositions, you were entranced by his musicianship. You adored him, and would love to get to know him in the arena of flirtatious engagement. 
“We’ll see,” you smirked up at him, pressing a small, friendly kiss on your crewmate’s shoulder before you gave his waist a gentle squeeze, “How are we feeling, Shach?”
“A bit better,” he confirmed with a nod, looking over to the docked ship and their crewmen, “Just gotta focus on not locking my knees, and we’ll be all set.” He turned to look down at you, smirking with his eyes shrouded beneath his glasses. Leaning down, he pressed a small kiss on your forehead before breaking from the embrace. 
Shachi, Penguin and you were the closest amongst the Heart-Pirate crew. The seas were incredibly lonely, comfort being scantily found amongst one another aboard the crew. It started one night when the shifts were switching between the ‘am’ and ‘pm’ crews, your body reacting in its exhausted state within changeover.
“Nothing new to report here, just a small blip on the monitor indicating the arrival of a school of fish,” you yawned at Penguin, he nodded in understanding. 
“Alright then,” he confirmed, clapping a hand on your shoulder in his own dissociative and sleep-deprived state, “Get some rest. See you in a couple winks, honey.” You hummed in response, cupping his left cheek within your right hand and pulling his right cheek towards you.
“Night-night,” you uttered, pressing a small peck on his left cheek before turning to his redheaded shift-partner beside him, “Happy shift-watching,” you uttered, breaking contact with Penguin’s body before extending the height of your body by standing firmly on the tips of your toes. Grasping Shachi’s cheeks, you tilted his head to give him a gentle peck on his forehead before heading off to crew-quarters without any further explanation. 
After that moment, the three of you became as close as close friends could be. Jokes, playfulness and comradery were always openly expressed physically between the three of you. Should Captain Law make port, you would wingman for your special boys, just as they would absolutely reciprocate for you. Each time Law made a Nakama encounter, you would all be on the lookout for appropriate couplings for one another. 
“All crew: prepare to board,” your captain’s voice rang over the speakers with a soft crackle, “Reconvene aboard the Straw-Hat vessel. Counselor, to my side.”
Bowing a small nod and giving Shachi a final squeeze, you broke from your position within the arms of Shachi and made your journey to your position beside your captain. Both the Victoria Punk and the Polar Tang bound themselves against the Thousand Sunny: sandwiching the great lion figure between their own figureheads. 
Approaching your captain, you cupped your palm over his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. He huffed out an acknowledgement of your name and title while he bowed his head. 
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” you asked him, stepping into his peripheral view. He continued to have his head bowed low, pursing his lips into a straight line. You furrowed your brows, sinking lower to get a better gauge on his emotions.
“I have a confession, Counselor,” he nodded, opening his eyes and looking above his descended brow, “And I need absolutely no judgment other than the highest level of professionalism.”
“Understood, Sir,” you smiled, releasing his shoulder and quarrying your own as a way of depicting your full attention, “You will always have my ears, along with my complete attention.” He sighed in gratitude, tilting his chin to elevate his eyes upwards. 
“Being with those two captains makes me-...” he paused with a light scoff in his tone, “...-make awful decisions. It’s as if I am no longer in control of myself: always doing something to prove how much of a man I am to not only them, but to myself.” 
Nodding along to his confession, you wordlessly agreed with all points he raised regarding himself. You relaxed your stance, opting to remain more compassionate and empathetic while you listen to your captain speak. As of this moment, your captain was only a man - and one that desired to verbally process with his therapeutic confidant: you. 
“I put our very lives at stake with this utter stupidity,” he continued, shaking his head at himself as he uttered his confessions to you, “All I seem to do is share a single, joint brain cell with those two morons each time we meet. There are no intelligible thoughts I can call my own, only competition and idiocy seem to remain.” 
After taking several moments pause, Trafalgar D Water-Law waited patiently for you to offer a countenance for his predicament. You suddenly allow a warm smile to begin its rise on your lips.
“May I ask what our purpose is with docking with the Thousand Sunny and the Victoria Punk?” you pose your question as simply as you can. He furrows his brows, clicking his tongue in thought.
“It’s a simple exchange of information,” he confirms with you, eyeing your face as you receive this knowledge, “And to determine if our alliance should remain valid in its longevity.” You hum in response, pursing your lips before allowing that warmth to return to your features once more.
“Then I would suggest leaning into the so-called stupidity, sir,” you shrug, scrunching your nose before looking to the hull of the Thousand Sunny. Cyborg-Franky was tying up the rigging to secure the Polar Tang in position to ensure it didn’t slip away in the swell of water with the dark-haired Nico Robin beside him.
“Excuse me?” Law expressed his concern with a low tone, “Lean into it?” You hum emphatically, returning your gaze to meet with your captain. You shrugged nonchalantly, cocking your head to the side to get a better gauge on the emotions of your captain.
“We’re not in any danger here, sir,” you relay your translation of his objective, “We have no threats posed to us, that is not at the hands of one another. I doubt the other two captains and their crew would make any attack on our vessel here, if we’re all in a similar predicament.” 
Law stands quietly, interlacing his hands behind his back as he mulls your words over in his head. He inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes with his brow deeply furrowed in the center of his forehead. 
“If I also may, sir,” you add, stepping closer to your captain, “You are only twenty-six years old. You are young,” you dip your head down to capture his gaze, his eyes now reopened, “And from what we’ve discussed in our prior sessions together: the opportunity to behave like a child in your youth was taken from you by illness and cruel, tyrannical hands. You never truly had an opportunity to be stupid, Captain.” His small gasp was barely audible, eyes widening at you giving him permission to behave childishly.
“Then what would you suggest, Counselor?” He questioned you a final time, floating his gaze with the utmost seriousness between your playful eyes. 
“Allow the crew of the Polar Tang to switch out of their uniforms, and let us all be stupid together,” you smile at your captain, extending your hand up to clasp his shoulder once more, “You deserve to be stupid amongst friends. Even if it’s just for a little while. If it matters, as one of the few members of your crew you trust with the rank and title to dismiss you from active duty-...”
Law’s eyes never left yours as you softened your playful expression
“...You have my permission to be stupid, sir,” you quip with a small wink, releasing his shoulder from within your grasp and turning back to make eye contact with the Thousand Sunny’s archeologist. You give her a small wave and a broad smile, with a final word to the gloomy man by your side, “But really, the person who’s permission you truly need is your own. Give yourself the luxury of behaving like, as you say, ‘a moron’ for a few moments. See what happens.”
With that final word, Law dismissed himself from his place standing beside you and hurriedly scurried below decks to, presumably, his office. In his sessions with you, he has worked through a few hard truths, all of which resulted in him taking a few moments in isolation to allow the truths to sink in. This appeared to be such a moment as this; which left you, in his absence, to be the welcoming committee to both the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews and their Captains.
As you walked over the wooden plank used as a makeshift bridge between the vessels, Nico Robin offered you her hand to stabilize your footing as you stepped down onto the deck. Her radiant smile elevated her features, mirrored within your own. 
“Counselor,” she addressed you with the smooth hum of her voice. 
“Archeologist,” you acknowledged her title with a soft nod in your welcome, “Are we reduced to titles now? Shall I address all of you in such a manner?” Luffy smiled at you, his pearly teeth shining beneath his upturned eyes. 
“Where’s Traffy at?” Luffy asked loudly, his voice carrying over to alert the red-headed captain at the other side of the deck, “He not with you?”
“Unfortunately not. My captain is not available to conduct the preliminary introductions of our crews presently,” you relayed your practiced response, “Is there anything I can do to make this first step more comfortable for you while we wait, Captain Luffy?” you asked before turning to the taller man rapidly approaching, “Or you, Captain Kid?” you finished your question with a low bow and awaited their responses. 
“Nah,” Luffy shrugged, clapping his hands behind his neck and offering you a tight-lipped smile, “Welcome aboard, Counselor. Tell your crew to get comfy, Sanji has made a whole heap of food for us all.” You rose from your deep stoop, smiling at Luffy before turning to Eustass Kid and awaiting his response. 
“Traffy sends his cute little counselor ahead of him to meet us, instead of showing his ugly mug up here,” Kid smirked, his lip paint cracking in the warmth of the sun, “Smart man, that captain of yours.” You chose to remain stoic at his unbridled, backhanded compliment of your captain. You extended your chin into the air, narrowing your eyes at the tall captain. 
“I would prefer all compliments coming my way be not at the expense of my captain’s intellect, nor his appearance,” you snarled, arching your brow at him, “If that would be all, Captain Kid.”
“Aye. That’s all, little mouse. Scurry on back to your duties,” he smirked down at you, his narrowed eyes training after you as you turned to direct your crew, now in common clothes, aboard the Thousand Sunny. They all seemed more than joyful at their captain’s lax behavior, depicting their personalities in their own styles rather than in boiler suits. The only member of the Heart-Pirate crew that remained in their uniform was yourself, eagerly awaiting for your captain’s dismissal so you could change into common clothes, yourself. 
You felt a presence behind you, your blood running cold as a shudder curled itself up from the base of your spine to the top of your skull. The small rattle of bones indicated the soul which stood behind you, a smile immediately tugging at the corners of your lips.
“Pardon me, miss,” the soft-spoken voice addressed you over your shoulder, “Would you mind terribly if I were to ask you what type of panties you were wearing?” Your tight-lipped grin did very little to stifle your teetered giggle at such an insanely, forward question from the familiar man behind you.
“Soul-King Brook,” you addressed him, turning to meet with the hollowed eyes of the skeletal form which stood before you. He was dressed in a purple, velvet suit, his hair curled and styled in a carefree, circular afro. The beads hanging from his skeletal neck shook and rattled against his exposed ribcage, the perfectly bleached bones secured with a black, leather belt. 
Eagerly awaiting your response, he pressed the tips of his fingers together in anticipation of your response to such an unhinged question. He could not remember if you were the type to yell, if you were the type to respond with violence, nor if you were the type to simply scoff and walk away from him. 
“If I were wearing any, I would absolutely inform you of the make and model,” you smirked up at him, before adding a soft wink with a further hushed utterance, “When I am dismissed from duty by my captain to change into more comfortable clothes, I would be more than happy to tell you the exact shade of the ensemble.” 
If you had never met this man in encounters prior, you would scoff if anyone ever attempted to convince you that skeletons could blush. But you did know him, and here he was: Brook, the Soul-King, the undead skeleton - blushing red at your words. The cracked cap above the crown of his head popped briefly, to which you almost thought you could see steam rise out of the hollow crevice. 
Nami, the straw-hat navigator, noticed the skeletal musician beside you seeming to have a small rush of energy pop out of his cranium. Immediately, she hastily walked to your side to ensure the skeletal man was behaving himself.
“I-If then, it wouldn’t be too much trouble, miss,” he stuttered over his words, tumbling through his teeth without anything to halt them, “Would you mind telling me if the carpet matches the drapes?” 
“Brook!” Nami scolded her crewmate with a loud reprimand, “You can’t just go around asking people if-.” You halted her words with a wave of your hand and an enthusiastic giggle.
“-It’s perfectly fine with me, Navigator,” you huffed a laugh at both his poorly held conversational skill, and the response his crewman welcomed him with, “I am more than capable of defending myself if I were ever uncomfortable, but I thank you for your valiance nonetheless.” From the corner of your peripheral, you notice Law’s presence aboard the Thousand Sunny. He gives you a curt nod before elevating his chin sharply to excuse you from active duty to change out of your uniform.
“If I may be excused, Nami, Brook,” you nodded to the two Nakama crew respectfully, which they both reciprocated. You turned and began to take a few steps, casually calling over your shoulder, “To answer your question, Musician: The last time I checked, I wasn’t bald up top.” 
The whistle of steam sprung into the air behind you, the rattles of the rotation of excited bones clinked together behind you with the familiar, unhinged laughter you had come to enjoy upon your meetings with the Straw-Hat crew. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you made your way back to the Polar Tang to redress yourself in more appropriate garb for the encounter. 
Brushing your shoulders against Shachi and Penguin as you began to go below deck, Penguin quickly grasped his hand over your wrist and halted your movement. You quickly snapped your head to him as he lent down towards you.
“You keen on the skeleton, honey?” he whispered his hushed question into your ear, “Need a wingman to set something up? We can be on the lookout for something, if you like.” You laugh at his questioning, shaking your head at his enthusiasm at the proposition of a romantic fling amongst the crews. Feeling the loosening of his grip over your wrist, you quickly pressed a small kiss against his cheek in gratitude. 
“I think I can manage on my own,” you confirmed with a small teetered laugh, “He is quite easy on the eyes, and I find his unbridled lust for the living flesh endearing.” Shachi joined you with your laughter, both quickly dismissing themselves from your presence as you hopped back on board of the ship you called home. 
Hollowed eyes tracked your every movement. From the grip on your wrist, to the kiss on a cheek, to the teetered giggle rising between the three of you. Brook didn’t truly understand how to feel in this moment: a woman of his dreams seemingly reciprocal of his flirtations being more than friendly with her own crewmen. Was this foreign emotion jealousy? 
He turned his head from your position, as your silhouette vanished below decks of the Polar Tang. He felt a warm hand tuck itself within his skeletal palm, giving his bones a gentle squeeze in support. Nico Robin offered Brook a smile alongside her affectionate touch, soothing over his scattering nerves. 
“She is friendly with those two, Brook,” she hummed up at his tall form, “You, of all people, understand how lonely it is on the seas. She’s blessed to have found friends to offer her a gentle touch and a friendly embrace from time to time.”
“That I do, Robin,” Brook confirmed softly, nodding to himself as he knit his thoughts together, “I just-...” he trailed off, his onyx hollows seeking out the former position you were atop the deck of the Polar Tang, “...I would never dream of ruining that, should I choose to entangle myself with her. She’s wonderful.” 
Robin’s gaze floats over to the two crewmen of the Polar Tang you had found a family with, both of which were focussed in deep, private conversation. Their eyes would float up to Brook, as their hushed whispers were scheming in hyper-focussed plotting. 
“Something tells me you won’t be ruining anything, Dear,” Robin chuckles before releasing Brook’s hand and giving him a small tap on his shoulder in encouragement. 
As you stripped out of your boiler-suit, you hastily made yourself more comfortable in clothes you rarely found yourself donning. You quickly made an appropriate arrangement of your favorite dress: cinched in the waist, accentuating your figure in a perfect hourglass and laid it out on your bed. Before you threw on a plain set of undergarments, your fingers halted on fabrics you had yet to have an opportunity to wear.
A small smile grew into a playful, mischievous grin, as your fingers looped over the lingerie: hastily drawing it up onto your body. You usually wore this garment if you were feeling particularly dull in your boilers uniform: something only for you to wear to make yourself feel more confident. You giggled as you hooked your thumbs over the bottom piece and pulled it up over your thighs to settle on your hips. Hooping your arms through the arm holes of the corseted bodice, you tightened the front of the piece to accentuate your breasts within the cups. 
You quickly took a moment to laugh at yourself at your own stupidity, before you reminded yourself: “If I gave the captain permission to allow himself a moment of idiocy, why should I not do the same? Where is the harm?” 
Throwing your dress over your head, you took a final glance at yourself in the mirror. Hastily adding a small amount of makeup to accentuate your features, you hurriedly made your way back up to the top deck of the Polar Tang while adjusting your laced ankle boots as you took lengthy strides.
As you made your way back aboard the Thousand Sunny, you truly took the time to notice the assortment of clothes your crewmen were finally allowed the luxury of expressing. You set an internal reminder to put forward a petition to allow the crew to dress casually at least once a month while serving aboard the Polar Tang. 
Your eyes quickly found the skeleton, sitting cross legged in front of a checkerboard with the archeologist of the Straw-Hat crew: both drinking jasmine tea and engaging in a game of chess. Approaching slowly, she gazed up at you and wordlessly complimented your chosen casual attire for the day. You gestured with your eyes whether it was an opportune moment to interrupt their game to claim the skeleton’s attention for a moment. She tilted her head with a warm smile, gesturing with her hands to go right ahead. 
Brook was confused briefly before he felt a hand press down on his shoulder. He quickly turned his face to glance down at the fingers perched on his right shoulder before his chin was claimed beneath the same warm grip. You tilted his face to gaze into his eyes, taking a moment for Brook’s mind to catch up to what his body was experiencing. You gazed through half-hooded lashes into the darkened recesses of his circular hollows, a playful smile drawn up on your lips. 
“Violet and pastel-lavender,” you uttered in a soothing, low voice, “Laced up with a gold ribbon in the front with a gold embellished trim around the hemline.” Brook would have lowered his eyebrows in deep thought, if he had any hair sprouting over his skull. He was confused as to what exactly you were relaying to him before he focussed on who was relaying the information. 
His spectral breath was taken from him, no further words were formed within his hollow cranium as steam began to exude from every open orifice. Your half-hooded eyes playfully toyed with him, as a feline would with their freshly caught rodent in their teeth. You held your eyes watching him squirm as you bit your smile back with your teeth, while Robin attempted to contain her chuckle at witnessing her crewman be the center of another’s romantic attention. 
“Y-Y-You-...” he choked on his words, the steam rapidly whistling and fuming throughout his skull, “...You’re w-wearing purple panties?” You giggled at his response, pressing your painted lips against the hollow surface where his nose was once located, leaving a perfect pursed circlet of affection painted on the bleached bones. 
“Of course I am,” you confirmed with a wink before pulling away from him, releasing him from your hands and beginning to rise from your stoop, “I had to match with my favorite musician.” You gestured to the velvet suit Brook was wearing, prompting his attention to briefly switch to his own clothes before snapping his head back up. His jaw hung comically slack, prompting a giggle to rise in your throat before you turned back to acknowledge the woman opposite to Brook.
“Apologies for my forwardness, Nico Robin,” you bowed your head in respect to the dark-haired woman before returning your attention back to Brook, “Soul-King,” you nodded your head to the musician before walking over to your captain. 
Sitting beside Trafalgar Law as he shared a single brain cell with the two Nakama captains was truly a sight to behold. You adored how he finally allowed himself to loosen the tight reins he held himself bound by, his playful stupidity was something you would’ve prescribed as his personal councilor. He needed a holiday, and he was finding one beside the two louder captains. 
As the food changed from the savories, to the sweets, to the cheeses and cured meats: you felt hollow eyes fixated upon your form. You were not swayed by the attention in the slightest, it was a welcomed change to your experience aboard the Polar Tang. You embraced the opportunity to express your femininity in a creative way, and it was a bonus that you managed to snag the attention of such a unique individual as-.
“Brookie!” Captain Luffy called over the ramblings of the crowd, “How’s about a song? Somethin’ from the heart while we enjoy being one big crew together?” 
His trance broken by the orders of his Captain, Brook snapped out of his bout of hypnotism as he made his way hurriedly to claim the first instrument set aside on the deck. The old guitar had water-swollen cracks in the base, but the strings were all new and freshly tuned. When he played music, he was in his own world: unaware of the life around him as he let the music carry his soul. 
As his skeletal fingers began plucking at the strings, his voice relayed a heartfelt melody that held you completely transfixed on his form. Both Shachi and Penguin snickered at your awestruck expression, nudging each other with their elbows as your breath was claimed from you. Law attempted to ask you a question over his shoulder, turning to face you as he didn’t hear a word or utterance of response from your direction.
Law's gaze floated over your starstruck expression, the music fully moving your soul was painted intricately on your face. Your eyes began to become glassy as the swell of Brook’s melody reverberated in your eardrums and shook you to your core.
He smirked at you, uncaring that his question remained unanswered. Your captain reached his hand down, claiming your palms and giving them a gentle squeeze as you remained unresponsive to the world around you. 
Nothing existed in this room: just you, and the skeletal man who was singing to every fibre of your very soul. You were entranced, bewitched, captivated and spellbound by his melody.
Brook in his time as a musician in his corporeal form was well renowned for his shanties and musical ensembles. Some of his melodies were taught to you as a child before you decided to embark on a life of piracy. 
Nothing could have prepared you to meet the man who influenced your childhood musicianship, especially one on the high seas between all the quarters of the continent. Nor did you ever picture yourself falling in love with him as he finally concluded his performance aboard his vessel, to which you were a welcomed guest aboard.
You were too stunned to offer applause in response to the song’s conclusion, the world suddenly jolting back into existence as calls for an encore were encouraged from the three crews. 
Brook’s spectral eyes were held in complete focus against your own, noticing the elevation in your heartbeat flooded to dust your cheeks in a warm flush. Your lips were parted, your eyes never leaving his as you blinked the world back into existence around you. Brook took a brief bow before he extended his boned hand out towards you, nodding to you in a gesture for you to take his hand and join him. 
Turning to your captain first, Law nodded his head to excuse you from your position beside him, you rose to your feet and stepped around from the positions the three crews scattered themselves atop the deck, reaching forward and taking Brook’s skeletal hand. He guided you over to the plush stool beneath the piano, taking a seat beside you as he began to perform a classical arrangement that required no vocals. 
Enthralled by the melody once more, your eyes focussed on the piano. The ebony and ivory keys dipped and rose beneath skilled fingers, the passion in the melody depicted with each crescendoed element. 
“Do you play any instruments?” Brook asked in a low, hushed tone beside you. You snapped out of your brief captivity and looked to his vacant hollows. The empty sockets held firm against your face, focussed on every subtle change in your expression. His fingers continued to clack at the smoothed tips of the keys as he awaited your answer. 
“Not since embarking on a life of piracy, much to the disdain of my heritage with my familial title,” you shrugged with a soft smile, his skull now holding your attention rather than the melody, “I did sing in my youth when I was in medical school, which was a long, long time ago.” 
“Not as long as my youth was. Of that, I am certain,” Brook jested with you, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, “And I bet you could still sing if given the appropriate circumstances.” You returned the gentle nudge with your bicep before lulling your head over the curvature of his firm shoulder.
“I highly doubt we would find ourselves in those rare circumstances, Bone-Daddy,” you snickered at him, enjoying the subtle hiccup in his tinkering atop the keys at the bestowal of such a title. 
“And if I were to ask you to sing with me, Liebchen?” he asked, briefly resting his head atop yours and nuzzling against you. His hair tickled your skin as he rested his undead body against yours. The rambunctious merriment aboard the vessel broke you away from Brook’s question, prompting you to raise your head from its position on his shoulder as you witnessed the stupidity your captain’s were involved in.
Each captain had managed to locate several bugs and beetles aboard the vessel, drawing a chalk circle on the wooden floor of the Thousand Sunny. It seemed that each captain had chosen a bug, beetle or arachnid: those creatures needing to touch the chalk ring of the circle the fastest to determine a clear winner amongst the Nakama.
Shaking your head with a warm, melodical chuckle at how much your captain was letting himself engage with the two other captains in their idiocy, you allowed the warmth to spread up to your cheeks. You were proud of your captain in his vulnerability to engage with them in this way.  
Brook concluded his piano concerto to the absence of applause now the attention was on the insects in front of the captains. You turned to Brook and gave him a soft round of kind applause with your hands, to which he bowed his head in response. Cheers and hollers were thrust into the air at the engagement of the insect race, prompting you both to shake your heads as your eyes remained fixed on Brook’s.
“Will you?” Brook asked once more, elevating his hand to capture your own beneath his, “Will you sing with me, Liebchen? Something small and familiar to you?” You sighed in response, upturning your brows and allowing a soft smile to elevate against your lips. He held onto hope, his hand giving yours a small squeeze in eager anticipation of your answer. 
“I would adore singing with you, Brook,” you sighed breathlessly, “Lead me in song, and I’ll follow the melody you set.” The skeletal man, should flesh be imagined on his features, would be beaming a broad and enthusiastic smile at your willing participation.
He reached within the opening of the piano, pulling out a small instrument with four strings and a rotating handle at the base. Several indented cogs and keys clacked at the sides beneath his skilled fingers, the music springing from the instrument sounded not so dissimilar to a violin with the dual tonality of piped bags. 
“This is a hurdy-gurdy, if you haven’t seen one of its make before,” he informed you with enthusiasm. You nodded down at the instrument as he performed with chords and melody over the clacking and winding, stringed instrument. 
“Do you know any melodies to this progression?” he asked as he played a few minor keys in sequence, “I know it would be somber, but I would love to hear you sing something like-.” His words were stolen from him as you began to lilt your voice in a familiar tune from your childhood. 
Although over time the lyrics in certain passages became lost to you, the intention was there with each skilled fluttery phrase. This melody was bittersweet and melancholy, the song depicting a foreign land where death and grief would no longer hold purchase over those who flee to its comfort. 
There was no mention of a lover, nor whisper of romance within the phrases - yet each lyric fleeing from your lips had the skeletal man falling deeper into the trenches of his adoration and admiration for you. As he learnt the melody and the repetition of the chorus, his voice joined your melody in harmony: skillfully floating in perfect pitch within the realms of your vocal skill. 
As the melody ceased, silence once again surrounded you: the world once again free of the colorful atmosphere you were painting with your song. You were in your own little world with the Soul-King, Brook, beside you. Barely comprehending your actions, you leant forward and brushed your painted lips against the bone occupying the space his lips once were. 
Drawing up the heels of your palms, you collected his cheekbones within them and held him firmly as you pressed several more, soft kisses against his boned lips. It was an unusual feeling, teeth where lips should be, bones where cheeks should be, cold aura of hollows where the fluttering eyelashes of a lover would belong. 
Breaking away your lips from his face, you gazed longingly into the dark sockets of his eyes. No word was spoken between you as you held your breath. He turned his face away from you, shaking his head lightly as if battling an internal argument with himself. Your brows triangulate upwards in the center of your forehead, eyes wide and innocent as you bite at your cheek nervously. Resolving his internal struggle with a huffed breath, he turned back towards you. 
Claiming both of your hands within his own, he gently squeezed at your digits. 
“I never, in all my days in this skeletal body, have longed to have lips as much as I do now,” he confessed in a dark whisper. You floated your eyes between the hollowed sockets, searching for further insight to his feelings.
His sorrow was depicted within his tone, his face remaining vacant at each uttered confession, “I have no flesh, no muscle, no organ: I am only bone. I have no heart, my soul is all that remains. I have nothing to offer you in this life-.” You had no choice but to break him out of his spiraling thoughts with your own argument.
“-All of those things are untrue, Brook. Aside from the physical attributes, don’t you dare reduce yourself to merely the parts you left behind,” you chastised him with your verbal warning. He was shocked at your passion, feeling the heat radiating off your body as you drew up further arguments to present to him.
“You have no lips? I am more than capable of allowing you to borrow mine,” you spoke with no hint of irony, nor jest within your tone, “No flesh, no muscle, nor organ? Those are just the tangible surroundings for the spirit within all of us. Are we not merely vessels for our souls to use as hosts?”
Brook remained speechless, hanging on your every word as the fire of your passion ignited your tongue with sparks and flashes. 
“You are only bone? No heart?” Your anger now truly evident on your features, “How dare you reduce yourself to less than all that you are,” you broke away his grip on your hands, and began to rise to your feet from the position beside him on the stool, “Your heart is your music, your soul is depicted in the care you have for your crew. I feel it, Brook.”
He cowered back against the piano, the hurdy gurdy dropping limply on the floor: discarded and abandoned. No crew spared the two of you a glance in your quarrel, choosing to remain solely fixated on the insect race, now turned into gladiator death-matches within the chalk circle.
Brook was in awe, watching your passion ignite in your eyes as you scold him with your words and bless him with your compliments. In all your encounters together: each time the Polar Tang met with the Thousand Sunny, he was entranced by your rapport and support for your crew. Your soothing words and answers to his unashamed lust presented to you had him blushing, but your attention now has him soaring with the reignition of his absent heartbeat. 
From your position now standing, you brushed off your dress and shook your head to rid the prior passion from elevating further. There were no regrets from offering him a kiss, not even the absence of his lips inhibited you from pressing your affection into his bones. At a huff of your breath, you lowered your tone to be in a kinder pitch, softening your features as you turned back towards the skeleton. 
“I will not stand for such self-degradation, especially with my occupation serving aboard the Polar Tang,” you extend your hand out to him, a soft smile slowly creeping up against your cheeks, “For what it’s worth, I adore you, Brook. I have always held you in the highest regard.” 
“The highest regard? Even with only the parts I’ve left behind?” he uttered his question barely above a whisper, seeking out further explanation within your orbs, “I am only a skeleton, afterall.” You sighed, rotating your neck atop your shoulders and stepped further towards him. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, your lips lingered for a moment longer against his cranium before you simply walked away from him.  
Feeling truly no need to draw out an explanation for your dismissal of his question, you felt your heart break for the Soul King. You had already confessed your admiration for him, uplifted him with your words and then wordlessly expressed your affection for him with a soft kiss. The skeletal face now had several painted hoops from your pursed lips written on his bones, a memorial of love artistically indented into his absent skin. 
Staggering in his rigidity, a boney hand reached out for you as you attempted to retreat back towards your crew. His essence was screaming to unify with you, to lead you in more intentional touches against his corporeal form. 
“I-I’m sorry. I only meant-...” he circled his boney fingertips around your wrist and gently tugged you to return towards him, “...-I cannot kiss, nor embrace you, in the manner to which I desire most. The others aboard can give that which you seek, commit those acts with you. Why would you choose to engage in this way with me when there are so many others available to you?”
You exhaled slowly from your nose, turning to face the Soul-King. You stood between his parted knees, leaning down while seeking out his chin with your fingertips. Apprehensively cupping his jaw, you leant down to hold your lips a whiskers length away from his pearly teeth. 
“Because you’re who I want, Bone-Daddy,” you confessed down to him, smiling as you touched your forehead against his. He reveled in the warmth rolling from your body to his own, feeling your smile mirrored with his spirit. If he had eyelids, he would close them as you did your own within the arms of one another. 
Elevating his left hand, his slender fingers cupped your cheek and guided you in towards his skeletal mouth. Following his lead, you pressed your lips tenderly against the cool bones of his teeth, feeling the divots beneath your pursed flesh. He held your cheek against his face, tracing soothing circles over your wrist with the tips of his phalanges in his thumb. 
Cheers and an uproar of hooted hollers erupted from the three crews, tearing your attention away from one another as you witnessed an exchange of Berry from Shachi, Killer and Nami. The wagers the crews placed on the variety of small creatures in the gladiator ring were as freely given as the drinks concocted by the skilled hands of the Straw-Hat chef. 
Joining your laughs with your crews, you both held each other firmly engulfed within your arms. The Soul-King nestled his head between your breasts as you soothed your hands within his hair. After several moments remaining this way, you felt the tips of Brook’s fingers trailing curiously up your spine.
“Purple, you said?” he hummed coyly against your chest, his fingers brushing with the hem of the back of your dress, “Violet and lavender with a gold trim?” You chuckled warmly, feeling his head turn slightly in your embrace, his chin placed firmly between your breasts as he looked up at you with his jaw seeming to smile up at you.
“And corset-laced, gold ribboning in the cleavage,” you smiled, smoothing over his hair as you collected his cheek within the heel of your palm. You scrunch your nose at him, gazing through half-hooded lashes playfully down into the hollow abyss of his eye sockets.
“Would you like to see them?”
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