#Part 5: Crew Bonding!!!

[ishipgenfics]

You and Your Human: Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

You see your next crew member walking out of a shop entitled Engineering Advice and Tool Repair. You probably would not have noticed them, but your human tugged on your sleeve. Its feautres were frozen, eyes wide.

"Human?" your human says.

You step closer. The sentient is walking slowly, so it is easy for you to get a glimpse at it, and to see that your human is wrong. It is a Sirviles, and while they can look human at times(although you'd never noticed it before) they are a species all their own.

You turn slightly to your human. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Sirviles."

Your human appears to lose an inch or two to height, which is concerning until you realize it is merely slumping. A reaction to exhaustion in many species that you had never gotten used to.

You jump up to your human's shoulder and shake it. "Okay?" you say.

Your human makes a noise like the yipping of wild dogs, which you have come to recognize as its version of laughter. "Okay," it confirms. "Just... little sad. What is Sirviles?"

You struggle to find the words to explain. Sirviles are wonderful and fascinating, but complicated. "Human then snake then human. One to two to one."

Your human nods at you and you nod back, momentarily forgetting the meaning of the gesture. Your human laughs at you and you bare your claws playfully at it before turning your attention back to the Sirviles.

You may end up zoning out slightly, for it feels like only a few seconds have passed when it whirls around, bares pointed fangs at you and hisses, "Who are you and why are you watching me?!"

You clasp your paws together and jump down from your human's shoulder. You don't want to draw too much attention to it yet, before you reveal to all of them what it actually is. Being human technically isn't illegal here, but there are still definitely people that could have a problem with it. "Apologies," you say. You know you must sound rather foolish, but you have always had trouble with the hisses of the Sirvilein language. "I saw you exiting a shop about Engineering, and I have found myself in need of an engineer. Do our needs align?"

The Sirviles is stunned into silence. You back up a few steps and study its face as it gathers its thoughts.

It is mostly on the hominid end of the cycle, with only a few scales and a slight limp showing the snake end. It is bald, with abstract tattoos covering its head and shoulders. It has dark skin and dark scales.

"They do," the Sirviles says. "Or I believe ssssso. What sssort of workerss are you looking for?"

"I have brought a new s-s-ship," you say, giving up on trying to hiss the s. You just aren't made for it. I could use an engineer, a scientist, or a doctor. Third is lowest priority." You already have a bit of emergency medical training, enough to get by. If there's a doctor willing to come work on your ship, great, but it really isn't necessary.

"I am an engineer," the Sirviles says. "I also ssspeak Cervilian, and a bit of Pyricessse, if that enhances the deal for you."

You smile. You've picked up the habit from your human. "It does."

"Where will the deal be ssssealed?" your engineer asks.

"The Crow Section of the docks," you say. "You will find an Equilian there. "I will meet you shortly."

As your new engineer walks off, quickly vanishing into the crowds of people, your human bends down to tap you. It is a startling feeling, and you jump. Your human backs away, babbling too quickly for you to understand.

You hold a paw up. "Slow, slow," you say in your humans language.

"Sorry," your human says. It bends down. It does that sometimes when its talking to you. Its... kind of sweet, but you are very used to talking to species much taller than you. Did your human not see you talking to the Sirviles five seconds ago. "When home?"

Home? What does your human mean, 'home'? Does it mean Earth? You can't get to Earth. Earth is dangerous. And anyway, your human never mentioned wanting to go back there. "Home?"

Your human frowns, and your tail twitches slightly, a prey instinct you cannot suppress. "The ship? You? When home?"

Oh. Oh, you love your human so much. "Soon. Person," you hold up one finger, "supplies," you hold up another, "and then home," you hold up a third finger.

Your human nods. "Good."

As you walk into the crowd, you notice that your human is walking behind you. Now that you think of it, it's pretty much been doing that the whole time. You aren't sure why. It's not like you can hide it, other than drawing attention of it-- it is much bigger than you. And while you would do anything to protect it, it is stronger than you as well.

Hmm. It is young. Perhaps it doesn't know it's own strength.

As you ponder this question, you feel an icy chill through your arm and turn to see a flickering sentient trying to pull you away. Its hand keeps going through your arm and it growls in frustration.

"Excuse me?" you say in Pyricese. It probably doesn't know Pyricese, but hopefully it knows at least one language that you speak.

"Hi!" the sentient says. "Will you come over here? Your friend can come too."

You stare, unable to process the words you are hearing. This feels like encountering an extinct species in the wild. "Are you speaking Universal Standard?"

The sentient shifts its weight back and forth. The light of its form flickers as it moves, like a candle flame. "Is that bad? Sorry. If so."

You sigh, and jump up to pat the being. It seems to have focused more, because your hand doesn't phaze through it. It zaps you a little, like... tiny electrocution? There should really be a word for that. "Galaxy-new, no one speaks Universal Standard."

The flickering gets more intense, and you thank the Saints that you are standing on the side of the road rather than in the middle of it. "Why is it called Universal Standard then? This is too confusing."

You really want to rant about the history of Universal Standard, because it is fascinating, but ironically, your Universal Standard is extremely rusty. You only ever studied it, never actually practiced, since no one speaks Universal Standard. Instead you just chirp a I don't know, and say, "Sorry. Were you not looking for a job?"

The sentient flickers in and out one more time and then settles down into a more humanoid form, with golden eyes and a pointed noise. It doesn't have a mouth, and you realize that you have no idea how its been talking to you this whole time. "Right! Yes. Now I haven't been to space before, so I would like a job. Before they find me."

"Are you a criminal?" you ask. "Because I'm not hiring criminals--"

"Only from my planet!" the sentient protests. It seems flustered. "They're very closed off, and they don't like space, but I wanted to go to space so I could learn more things."

That explains why they thought Universal Standard was actually the standard language then. Galaxy-new was a lot more accurate of a term than you thought. "What can you do?"

The sentient hesitates. "I am a," there is some sort of word in their home language that sounds like the squeak of a whistle. You have a wide range of vision and can see your human tense behind you.

"I don't know that word," you say. A very helpful phrase, in any language.

The sentient growls again. "I... I learn things, and I do tests, and I do more tests to figure things out, and I collect information about the things and write it down."

"A scientist?" you say. Your heart flutters. Saints, you have been lucky today. Maybe the world is trying to give you a break after having your old crew abandon you. "I need a scientist."

"Is that the Universal Standard word for it?" the sentient says, before waving a glowing tendril. "Not important. So you'll hire me?"

You sigh. Well, it seems sweet. Why not? "Yeah, alright," you say. "But I'm gonna be giving you language lessons. You need to know something other than Universal Standard."

"Deal!" the sentient turns into a little glowing star, pulsing happily. You explain to it where to go, and then head off into the crowd again. Just a few more supplies to get and then it will be time to go back to your ship.

This time, you hop onto your humans shoulder, occasionally whispering instructions into its ear to tell it where to go. Its nice, to see the world from a different perspective, and also nice to see your human.

You have a very wide range of vision, and from your spot on its shoulder you can see your humans absolute wonder at everything it is seeing. Sometimes fear, yes, or confusion, but mostly wonder and awe. If you are interpreting human facial expression correctly.

It's beautiful. You haven't been that in awe of the galaxy in a very long time, but you still remember the feeling, the first time you saw how small you were, and how big the world could be.

You are glad to be able to see your human experiencing it. You would have thought it would have already happened, considering you found your human on a crashed Cervilian ship. Maybe the ship never landed....?

Eh. It's really not that important. You should just enjoy the moment.

You gather up supplies-- food and equipment. You'd gotten a lot of different types of currency before you'd set off in your ship, so you don't have to worry too much about exchanging, which saves a lot of time. Before you know it, you have everything you need.

Your human is walking back to the ship, when you pass by a bookshop. You would have ignored it, but for two important things.

1: One of the books on display has a human on the cover.

2: The sentient inside, sweeping the floor and humming quietly to himself, is Pyrician.

You jump down from your human's shoulder. It will be good to look another one of your species in the eye.

You open up the door, your human awkwardly shuffling after you. It seems to understand when it sees the Pyrician, because it stops whispering, "What?" at you in both Human and Pyricese.

The Pyrician is larger than you. Its tail is bushier and its fur is darker, more beach than desert. It is a little grey around the whiskers, and it snuffles welcomingly at you as you enter.

"Pronouns?" it asks.

"She/her variant," you answer. "You?"

"He/him," he says, answering with the shortened version. You have gotten used to talking more formally, you realize. It is easier for outsiders to understand. "What brings you to my little bookshop?"

You are almost certain that this man is from the beach areas of your planet. He has quite a thick accent. "I saw that you have a book about humans in your windows...?"

"Oh! Yes!" he glances around. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course," you promise. You glance over to your human, standing in the corner tapping the wall in some sort of rhythm unidentifiable to anyone but itself and giggle. Whatever the secret is, you are almost certain you won't have a problem with it.

"I think humans are a bit... too villanized," he confides in you like its some huge deal, instead of something you've thought pretty much ever since you started talking to your human. "They can be dangerous of course, I'm not denying that, but there are lots of dangerous species out there. Humans just seem... misunderstood to me. I have a lot of books about them. Professional interest."

"Wait..." you say slowly. "You have books? About humans?"

"Yes!" he says happily, ears bobbing up and down. "Some written by other species, but a few written by humans themselves. And one of them is just all my collected information. Now, all the humans I know are from one specific part of the planet, so my understand of the language is limited--"

"But you have books on the language?" you repeat.

He nods. There is a twinkle in his dark black eyes. "Yes, I do."

You grab him by the shoulders. "Show me everything."

[hollowblxxd]

[ AU / Speculation for me ] [ I CAN FIX IT .... NOT FOR YOU ]

Okay so because I am a man who hates to see things end badly Im here writing a sort of... fanfiction for myself that cleanse up the mess of Mouthwashing. No disrespect to the whole game but this is my thoughts Some warning for mature subjects and obviously possible spoilers for Mouthwashing!

Basically I thought about the idea of Jimmy being dealt with before he could complete his plan against the crew and it all stems from the idea that there's actually a secret cryopod on the ship. We see only 4 in the main part but there's 5 people on board, which even if you want to argue Pony Express doesn't give a shit, I think its somewhat reasonable to assume that should there be an emergency there would in fact be enough cryopods for everyone to get into so that a potential crew can be saved. This secret cryopod is obviously ONLY used in the case of an emergency and is ONLY known to exist by the captain. Aka Curly. Curly realizes that Jimmy is getting too unhinged and crossing far more lines than hes ever seen him do before. Though Curly fears and cares for his unfortunately stupidly manipulative friend, he realizes he has to take action against Jimmy to ensure no harm comes to the remaining crew. So Curly basically tricks Jimmy into thinking that he's going to be revealing a secret to Jimmy, something only "a captain and his co-pilot can know" before taking Jimmy to this secret cryopod. Since technically having a "potential psychological unsound person" on board DOES class as an emergency and with no "brig" available for holding, Jimmy is put in there. His last moments is Curly's well deserved "betrayal." Thus now Jimmy is a festering sleeping mess inside the cryo-chamber, grinding thru a horrific nightmare where he gets his revenge on Curly, where he gets control of the ship while spiralling further and further into outright INSANITY in some jacob's ladder style purgatory as his mental state is forever stuck "coping" with his anger, his guilt, his fear, his hatred, his selfishness and so on and so forth. Basically everything that happens in the events of Mouthwashing is a already crazy's man nightmare-ish delusion as he awaits judgement day, aka the time when he leaves the pod and has to face the justice he deserves. Meanwhile with Jimmy put away in hold, the crew get a chance to breath. Jimmy overbearing nature eases everyone tension and though it was a hard decision it was a well made one. Its not all perfect however because Anya takes all of this quite hard feeling guilty that it got this far. She does attempt to end her life which she is luckily saved from by Curly and the rest of the crew. Since Anya is now sick, Daisuke has to take over acting as Nurse, following Curly and Anya instructions on how to make this all easier. Anya is safe around Daisuke and his bright optimistic personality is really fitting for a nurse, never once does she feel ashamed or scared and for once feels a sense of relief and freedom. Her commenting that Daisuke would make a good nurse which Daisuke takes to heart since he still obviously struggling to find "what hes good at" Curly temporarily takes up the role of being an engineer with Swansea since, Curly as the lovely captain SHOULD know his ship inside and out too and hey, even as a bonus, he may even show Swansea how to steer a ship. This ends up with Curly and Swansea having a good man to man bond. In the end, Anya recovered free from her abuse and regains her personality and happiness, Daisuke discovers his passion for medical work happily taking college recommendation from Anya, Swansea learns a bit about riding a ship and thinks "hey I could probably do good as a space trucker" and Curly also detached himself from the parasite that is Jimmy who constantly been trying to drag him down! So there, I fixed it. But not for him.

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 4

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘴,"

summary: life has been perfect, just you and him, but the shadows of both of you and Joel's past has been haunting you again...

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 4

masterlist of the series

previous | chapter 3

next | chapter 5

The sun seemed to shine a bit brighter these days, casting a warm glow over your life since Joel had become more involved in it. His presence brought a newfound sense of safety and comfort, not just for you but for him as well. Joel, once a cold and distant figure, began to soften, melting into a warmer, more open person whenever you were around. It was as if the world belonged to just the two of you, and the bond you shared illuminated both your lives in profound ways.

Joel was now a regular at church, attending Sunday services and every fellowship event with renewed purpose. His participation didn't go unnoticed, especially by Tommy, Ellie, and Maria, who observed the positive changes in him. Joel still remained a man of few words, guarded and cautious, but your presence had undeniably brought a light into his life, guiding him out of the shadows.

For you, Joel became the protector you desperately needed. Whenever your father’s temper flared, you could escape to Joel, finding solace in his arms. He calmed your storms, just as you eased his burdens, becoming each other's anchor. You often sneaked out together to the lake or climbed into the back of Joel’s truck to gaze at the stars. Those moments felt like the world stood still, with only the two of you and the infinite sky. Joel found himself no longer lost in the darkness; instead, he had found his light in you.

However, you both had to maintain a facade, keeping your relationship discreet to avoid the prying eyes of the community. Sneaking out, lying to your father about being at a friend's house, and stolen moments of intimacy became part of your routine. While you hadn't taken your relationship to a sexual level due to your trauma from Jamie, the nights spent cuddling, kissing, and talking were enough for Joel. Though he sometimes felt the stirrings of desire, he respected your boundaries, focusing instead on the depth of your connection.

Joel sometimes took you out of town, exploring Austin or Houston. You visited night markets, played in arcades, and strolled through bustling streets. Joel despised arcades, but the sound of your laughter and the sight of your carefree smile made every annoying game worthwhile. Every time you smiled, it was as if a sunbeam pierced through the clouds in Joel's heart, warming a place he had thought forever cold.

"Got another project comin' up," Joel said one evening as you sat together in his truck, overlooking the hills. "A big one. Tommy thinks it's too much work for the crew we got, but I reckon we can handle it."

"Tell me more about it," you prompted, even though construction details often went over your head. You loved hearing Joel talk about his work; the passion in his voice made you feel closer to him.

"It's an office building downtown. Gonna be a challenge because we gotta keep the old facade. Means a lotta careful demolition, precision work. Gotta bring in some new folks, too, ones who know their way around older structures."

You nodded, trying to visualize it. "Sounds complicated."

"It is," he admitted, a touch of pride in his voice. "But we got a good team. Tommy's been talkin' to some contractors. We need people who can do the job right, you know? Can’t afford any mistakes."

"I believe you can do it," you said earnestly. "You’re amazing at what you do."

He chuckled softly. "You’re sweet." Joel's hand reached up, his rough fingers gently caressing your chin. His touch was like a warm breeze on a chilly evening, comforting and electrifying at the same time. Joel’s gaze held yours, his brown eyes deep and intense, like molten chocolate, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher but felt deeply within your soul.

Every touch, every look from him, made you melt. It was as if you were a snowflake landing on a sun-warmed pavement, vanishing into a pool of warmth under the intensity of his presence. You giggled, the sound light and musical, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel shook his head slowly, his smile spreading across his face, tender and genuine. "Nothin', darlin'," he said, his voice calm, gentle, and sincere.

Joel couldn’t fully grasp his feelings, but being with you made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years. He knew this might be wrong, but it felt so good, like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds, casting colors on a world that had been grey for too long. Ever since Sarah and his wife had passed, his life had been a landscape painted in shades of grief and loss. Ellie had brought back some light, but what he felt with you was different, something more vivid, more profound.

His world had been a desolate canvas, splashed with only the darkest hues. But you were the burst of color, the brush of a vibrant dawn, illuminating the shadows that had consumed him. You were his beacon, guiding him from the darkness, painting his existence with the brightest of shades. And though it scared him, it also filled him with a warmth and a hope he hadn’t dared to feel in a long time.

***

After school, you found yourself in the familiar warmth of the kitchen, the comforting scent of vanilla and sugar filling the air. Your mother, in her element, was bustling around, gathering ingredients for a cake and cookies.

"Can you grab the eggs from the fridge, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, reaching into the refrigerator. As you handed her the carton, her hand brushed against your back, right where the still-healing bruises were. You flinched, unable to hide the sharp intake of breath.

Your mother's eyes widened, guilt flashing across her face. "I'm so sorry. Does..does it still...um hurt?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. "No, Mama, it's okay. It's getting better."

She hesitated, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of worry and sorrow. "I know I haven't... I haven't done enough to protect you," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for that. I'm just... I’m so afraid of your father."

You placed a hand on her arm, trying to offer some comfort. "Mama, it's alright. I understand. Let's just focus on the baking, okay?"

Your mother nodded, her relief palpable. She turned back to the counter, trying to regain her composure. "So, have you noticed how Joel’s been coming to church more often lately?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of Joel, careful to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, I noticed."

Your mother smiled, though it was tinged with curiosity. "You know, he’s changed a lot over the years. He used to be so different when Sarah and his wife were alive."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity. You knew bits and pieces about Joel’s past but had never heard the full story. "What was he like back then?"

"Joel was a wonderful father and husband. He adored Sarah and Jane," your mother said, her eyes softening with nostalgia. "Jane and I were good friends. They were high school sweethearts, you know. Joel got Jane pregnant in high school, and they got married right after graduation. He worked so hard to provide for them."

You listened intently as your mother spoke, the rhythm of her words blending with the sounds of baking—mixing bowls clinking, the oven humming softly. Joel had never brought up his past daughter and wife when he was with you. It was as if a part of his heart was still locked away, guarded against the pain of revisiting those memories. You felt a mixture of sadness and curiosity, wishing he would open up to you but understanding his need to protect himself from that pain.

As your mother continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Joel’s heart was still closed off, like a house with the windows shuttered, sunlight struggling to seep through the cracks. "After they died, Joel was never the same," your mother said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her memories. "He isolated himself, barely spoke to anyone. He stopped coming to church, buried himself in work and alcohol. It was like the light went out of him."

You continued to bake, your hands moving automatically as you processed your mother's words. The more you learned, the more you understood the layers of grief and resilience that made up the man you had come to care for so deeply.

"Did you know his wife well?" you asked, curious about the woman who had once been such a significant part of Joel’s life. You felt a twinge of jealousy, knowing that Joel had once opened his heart fully to another woman, something he hadn't done with you yet.

Your mother nodded, her smile tinged with sadness. "Yes, she was one of my closest friends. Jane was kind and loving, always had a smile on her face. They were perfect together. Losing her was a blow Joel never really recovered from."

You felt a pang in your chest, imagining the life Joel had once had—a life filled with love and happiness that was abruptly shattered. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, understanding the depth of his loss and the strength it took for him to keep going.

Your mind swirling with thoughts. Joel had been through so much, yet he found the strength to care for Ellie and, in his own way, for you. He was like a fortress, strong and unyielding, yet vulnerable to the storms that battered him.

Your mother’s voice brought you back to the present. "Since he adopted Ellie, he's shown glimpses of the old Joel. But he still struggles. He’s still grumpy and distant. It was as if he built a wall around himself, shutting out the world to avoid more pain."

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for Joel. He had been through so much, yet he found a way to care for you and Ellie. "And now he's starting to come back to church," your mother said softly.

"It's good to see him more involved again. He deserves some happiness."

You smiled, though your heart was heavy with the knowledge of what you shared with Joel. "Yeah, he does," you agreed, hoping that somehow, against all odds, you could both find the happiness you deserved.

Your mom glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "I wonder what’s changed in him," she mused. "Maybe he’s finally opening up his heart for another woman."

Your body tensed at her words. She continued, "Ever since he became a widower, there have been plenty of women interested in him. It’s a small town, you know. Everyone knows everything. But he's always been so... cold and distant. Joel is handsome, successful, and a gentleman. Don't tell your father I said that." She chuckled, and you just smile to her.

Inside, you couldn't help but agree. Joel was indeed handsome and a gentleman, so different from your father. Your father, who should have been the epitome of kindness and morality as a preacher, was anything but. His exterior was polished and righteous, but inside, he was rotten. Joel, on the other hand, seemed rough on the outside but was truly good at heart.

Your mother sighed, "It’s good for Joel, though. It’s about time he moved on and built a new life. Maybe he’ll find a nice woman his age, someone who can be a good mother to Ellie. Adam needs his Eve, after all."

Her words made you uncomfortable, a knot forming in your stomach. You couldn’t bear the thought of Joel with someone else. The jealousy gnawed at you, knowing your mother would lose her mind if she ever discovered you were the reason for Joel’s recent change. You also felt a pang of insecurity, realizing how much older Joel was, how he could practically be your father. There were so many women in town who were more age-appropriate for him, attractive and mature, whereas you felt small and insignificant in comparison.

You focused on mixing the batter, trying to push away the uncomfortable thoughts. "Yeah, maybe," you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.

Your mother didn't seem to notice your discomfort. She continued to chatter about the town gossip, but your mind was elsewhere. You wondered if Joel ever thought about these things—marry a nice woman and built a new life? You knew he cared for you, but could he see a future with you, or was this just a fleeting moment in his life?

As you finished the cake and placed it in the oven, you couldn't shake off the thoughts swirling in your head. Joel was a beacon of light in your life, but the future felt uncertain. You wished you could ask him, but the fear of his answer kept you silent.

The cookies were done baking, and your mother placed them in two jars. "Take these over to Joel’s house and then to Tommy's," she said, handing you the jars and placing them in a sturdy tote bag to make it easier to carry on your bike.

You nodded, appreciating the excuse to see Joel. As you rode your bike through the familiar streets, the wind swept across your face, carrying the sweet scent of summer and the promise of evening. The sky was a canvas of blue and orange, painting a picturesque scene straight out of a movie. You loved this town—the southern charm, the way everyone knew each other—but part of you hated it, longed to escape its confines and the shadows that lurked within your home.

Arriving at Joel’s house, one of the bigger ones in the neighborhood, you parked your bike in the driveway and grabbed one of the cookie jars. Knocking on the door, as you always did instead of using the bell, you expected Ellie to answer since Joel’s truck wasn’t in the driveway.

The door opened, and instead of Ellie, it was Joel standing there. His face softened the moment he saw you.

"Hey, Mr. Miller," you said, deliberately using his formal title to tease him a bit.

Joel chuckled, his eyes warm. "Hey, doll."

You lifted the jar slightly. "Mom sent some cookies. She thought you might like them."

Joel took the jar from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. "Oh, that's nice of her, well, do want to come in?"

"Maybe for a little," You followed him inside, the familiar coziness of his home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Joel set the jar on the kitchen counter and turned to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing your unease.

You smiled, trying to brush off your worries. "Yeah, just... thinking about stuff."

Joel stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your chin. His touch was rough but tender, sending shivers down your spine. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You nodded, looking up into his eyes. They were deep pools of warmth and safety, and every time you looked into them, you felt like you could melt. "I know," you whispered.

For a moment, you just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. Joel’s eyes held something you couldn’t quite decipher, a mix of emotions that made your heart race. You giggled nervously, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, feeling self-conscious.

Joel shook his head slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Nothin'."

You giggled again. "You have to stop looking at me like that."

Joel raised an eyebrow, still smiling. He's leaning in to kiss you, "Like what?"

You blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Before Joel could kiss you, you both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, you stepped away from each other.

"Oh, hey, I thought I heard someone knocking," Ellie said, entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Ellie," you greeted her. "My mom and I made some cookies, and she sent you some. I thought I’d drop by for a bit."

Ellie grinned and walked over to you and Joel. She glanced at Joel, noticing his slightly flushed face, and raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Joel?"

Joel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, just, uh, a bit of dust or somethin'."

Ellie opened the jar and took a cookie. "These are great. Thanks!" She turned to you. Joel took a cookie as well, taking a bite and nodding in approval.

"You made this?" Joel asked, looking impressed.

You blushed a little. "Well, I just helping my mom."

"I take that as a yes and this is good," Joel said, his eyes warm.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth from his compliment.

Ellie turned her attention to you. "So, how’s school? I haven’t seen you much lately."

You shrugged. "Just busy with a lot of things."

Ellie nodded. "I heard you’re in charge of the church dance troupe for the event next week."

"Yeah," you said, smiling.

Ellie smirked playfully. "And I heard Pastor Ben picked you as soon as he saw you. I think he likes you."

Joel’s expression changed, his jaw tightening slightly. "Who's Ben?"

Ellie glanced at Joel, oblivious to his jealousy. "Pastor Ben is the new young pastor who’s going to be taking over while Father Gibson is away for a couple of weeks."

"Yeah," you added. "He’s just helping out while my dad is on a trip to New Orleans for the church."

Ellie nodded enthusiastically. "He's super popular with the girls at school. They all think he’s really handsome."

You laughed lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. "He’s just being friendly, Ellie."

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he forced a casual tone. "How old is he?"

"Not sure," Ellie said, shrugging. "Maybe late twenties?"

"Oh," he said.

Joel's face remained impassive, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his emotions. He didn’t want to show too much, to let on how much it bothered him that someone else might have an eye on you. After all, anyone would notice your beauty—your presence was like a beacon, drawing people in with your pure, radiant light. Men and boys alike found themselves captivated by you, your allure almost heavenly. Joel, despite not being religious, found himself silently praying that he could keep you to himself.

He knew that your beauty wasn’t just skin-deep. There was something about you that felt untouched, ethereal—a stark contrast to the gritty world he had come to know. You were his salvation, a glimpse of purity and hope in his otherwise dark and turbulent life.

Ellie changed the subject, sensing the awkwardness. "Anyway, are you excited about leading the dance troupe?"

"Yeah, it should be fun," you replied, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s a lot of work, but I think it’ll be worth it."

"Maybe you want to join, Ellie?" you said teasing her, "Oh hell nah," Ellie answered making a disgusting face, you chuckled.

Joel remained quiet, his eyes flicking between you and Ellie. You could tell he was still processing the idea of Pastor Ben, but he seemed to be trying to push it aside.

"Well, thanks for the cookies," Ellie said, taking another bite. "They’re delicious."

"Glad you like them," you said with a smile. "I should probably get going. I need to drop the other jar off at Tommy’s."

Joel’s expression softened as he looked at you. "Let me walk you out," he said. As Ellie remained engrossed in the cookies, Joel gently took your hand, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"When is your father leaving for New Orleans?" Joel asked in a low voice as he guided you towards the door.

"Tonight, around eight," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Joel’s eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Can you sneak out tonight?" he whispered, his hand lightly caressing yours.

You smirked and nodded, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

Joel’s eyes darted around, ensuring no one was watching. "I’ll pick you up behind your house at nine," he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and caution. His rough hand felt like a contrast to your soft skin, a stark reminder of the different worlds you both came from, yet a perfect match in this moment.

You felt a flutter in your chest, a combination of anticipation and desire. His touch was electric, sending a rush of warmth through your veins. You wanted to hold onto this feeling, the thrill of the forbidden, the secret moments that were just for the two of you.

Joel leaned in and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to your cheek, ensuring no one was watching. You felt your heart race, the sensation of his lips lingering on your skin.

"I’ll see you later," he murmured, stepping back slightly. "Take care."

You nodded, trying to contain your excitement. "You too," you said softly, your voice tinged with the happiness you felt inside.

The whole way to Tommy’s house, you couldn’t stop blushing. Riding your bike, you felt the wind rush past you, the world around you vibrant and alive. The sky was a brilliant canvas of blue and orange, the southern landscape unfolding like a scene straight out of a movie. Each pedal felt lighter, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a sense of freedom and exhilaration.

Reaching Tommy’s house, you parked your bike and grabbed the jar of cookies. Knocking on the door, you took a deep breath, the smile on your face unshakeable. Tonight held the promise of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see Joel again.

The house was a quiet, still tableau of ordinary life, its corners cast in the muted hues of nightfall. Your mother’s soft, tired footsteps echoed as she busied herself with the last-minute preparations for your father’s departure. From your vantage point in the dimly lit room, you could hear the rumble of his stern, authoritative voice as he issued his final instructions for his absence.

“Behave yourself, Evelyn. Take care of your duties.” your father’s voice cut through the air like a blade to your mother, “Make sure the house is in order," He said to your mother.

Your mother then called you from downstairs. “Come say goodbye to your father before he leaves.”

You descended the stairs with a heavy heart, each step a reluctant march towards the formality of your father's departure. His figure loomed large in the dimly lit foyer, his stern face illuminated by the flickering light from the chandelier above. The space around him seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence, a constant reminder of his authority and control.

Your father, already dressed in his traveling attire, turned to face you as you approached. His expression was as impassive as ever, his eyes scanning you with a critical gaze that never quite softened. “I expect you to behave while I’m away. Keep things in order, take care of your house duties with your mother and don’t let any mischief slip through. Pastor Ben will be in charge for the next two weeks."

You offered a formal, almost mechanical embrace, your body stiff as you pressed against him. The touch was brief, a quick and emotionless exchange that spoke more of obligation than affection. His words felt like a final checklist, a list of expectations that you had long learned to adhere to.

With a nod, you managed a polite, “Yes, daddy."

As he turned to leave, he gave one last instruction, his voice trailing off as he stepped toward the door. “Remember, be a good Christian girl. Stay close to God. Make sure you’re not a burden to your mother.”

After he had gone, your mother’s weary voice called from the kitchen. “Sweetheart, would you like something to eat? There are leftovers in the fridge. I’m quite tired and I think I'm gonna go to bed early,”

You shook your head, feigning a lack of appetite. “No, I’m full, Mama. I’ll just head to bed.”

“Alright, dear,” she replied, her tone soft but tinged with fatigue. “Don’t forget to pray before you sleep.”

You watched her retreat to her room, her movements slow and burdened. The house felt emptier as she disappeared from view, and you knew it was time to execute your carefully laid plan.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of bed and crept to your window. The night was still and serene, the air cool against your skin as you pushed the window open. The backyard, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, felt like a secret world just waiting to be explored.

You carefully climbed out of the window, landing softly on the grass below. The night sky was a canvas of stars, each one a twinkling reminder of the possibilities that lay beyond the confines of your everyday life. The cool breeze ruffled your hair, carrying with it the scents of the garden—jasmine, freshly cut grass, and the distant promise of freedom.

In the darkness, Joel’s truck waited, a silent sentinel against the backdrop of the night. The vehicle was cloaked in shadows, its lights off to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Your heart raced with anticipation as you approached, the thrill of the forbidden making your steps lighter and faster.

Sliding into the truck, you were greeted by Joel’s familiar presence. His face, partially illuminated by the dim interior light, softened as he saw you. A warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement that you felt.

Before you could say a word, Joel’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. It was a moment of pure, unrestrained connection, the outside world falling away as the heat of his touch enveloped you. The kiss was fervent, a melding of stolen desires and whispered promises, each touch a testament to the intimacy you shared.

Joel’s hands were rough and warm, their contrast to your soft skin sending a shiver through your body. As he pulled away, his eyes held a deep, unspoken affection that spoke louder than any words could. “Hey there, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm in the quiet cabin.

The truck’s engine roared to life, a low, rumbling purr that vibrated through the seats. The world outside seemed to blur as Joel drove through the empty streets, the city lights casting fleeting golden streaks across the windshield. Each streetlamp was a beacon in the darkness, guiding you through a night that felt like a dream.

With every mile that passed, the weight of your ordinary life lifted, replaced by the vivid colors of this stolen moment. The night sky above was a tapestry of dreams and possibilities, a perfect backdrop for the intimate adventure you were embarking upon.

The truck rolled to a gentle stop at the top of a secluded hill, its path winding through the darkened landscape like a secret road leading to a hidden sanctuary. The night sky stretched out above, an endless canvas dotted with twinkling stars, their cold light a delicate contrast to the warm cocoon of the truck's interior. Joel’s touch was a constant comfort, the warmth of his hand against yours a promise of the intimacy you shared.

You and Joel made your way to the truck's open bed, where a soft blanket had been laid out. The fabric was cool beneath you, but the warmth of Joel’s body beside you quickly dispelled any chill. You settled in together, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace as you both lay back to gaze at the sprawling expanse of the cosmos.

The night was a silent witness to your closeness, the stars above flickering like distant, celestial eyes. The moon hung low, casting a soft, silvery light over the landscape, making the moment feel surreal and dreamlike. Joel’s presence was a soothing balm, his breaths steady and calming against the backdrop of the night.

As you both lay there, the peacefulness of the night was punctuated by your conversation. The topics ranged from trivial to profound, each word a thread weaving the tapestry of your shared moment. The serenity of the night made every laugh and whisper seem more intimate, more precious.

Then, Joel’s voice broke the quiet, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. “Tell me more about this Ben,” he asked, his tone light but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “Ben? Oh, he’s just this new pastor. He’s always paying attention to me, it's weird...my friends keep telling me like he likes me, but he's not really my type. He's...too boyish,” you said, trying to convey your disinterest.

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Boyish? He’s an adult.”

You smiled, playfully snuggling closer. “Yeah, but he’s not you.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something akin to jealousy, though he quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. “Jealous?” you teased, noticing the subtle shift in his demeanor.

Joel gave a soft chuckle, his laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the night. “I’m not jealous.”

You continued to tease him, your light-hearted jokes breaking through the quiet night air. Each laugh and playful nudge seemed to draw you both closer, your bond solidified by the shared humor and intimacy of the moment.

However, your mind wandered back to the conversation you’d overheard with your mother. The stories of Joel’s past, of Sarah and Jane, lingered like shadows at the edge of your thoughts. A wave of curiosity and a tinge of apprehension washed over you.

“Joel,” you began tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper, “how come you never tell me about your life?"

"What do you mean, doll?"

"About Sarah and Jane,"

Joel’s body stiffened beside you, his hand retracting from its position on your waist. The shift was palpable, a stark contrast to the easy closeness you’d just shared. His face hardened slightly, a veil of discomfort settling over his features.

He looked away, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice guarded and distant.

You felt a pang of regret, your heart aching at the sight of his discomfort. The stars above, once a symbol of wonder and possibility, now felt like distant witnesses to a moment of unspoken pain. You struggled to find the right words, the metaphors of your own emotions becoming tangled in the reality of Joel’s guarded heart.

“I...I just want to understand,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I know about your life, but it feels like there’s so much more you haven’t shared.”

"And you knew about mine, all of it," you said again.

Joel’s silence was heavy, a deep, almost tangible weight that pressed against your chest. The night seemed to stretch on forever, the stars above a cold, indifferent audience to the emotions playing out beneath them. The warmth of Joel’s touch was still there, but it now felt like a fragile thread, tenuous and delicate.

Joel’s gaze softened, but the weight of his past seemed to anchor him, pulling him into a place he wasn’t ready to share. “It’s not easy to talk about,” he admitted, his voice trembling with a mixture of regret and sadness. “Some things are just too hard to revisit.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability, and you reached out, your voice gentle. “You can open up to me, Joel. I want to listen. You always listen whenever I’m down. I’m here with you,”

Joel’s eyes flickered with a storm of emotions, a mix of frustration and something else, but he remained quiet. You pressed on, your fingers lightly grazing his hand. “Do you ever think about them?"

A tense silence followed, Joel’s expression darkening. He clenched his jaw, struggling with the weight of his emotions. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his voice strained and edged with anger.

You tried to close the distance, your hand still resting on his. “Joel, it’s okay to open up.”

But before you could say more, Joel’s frustration erupted. “I just don't want to talk about it!” he snapped, his voice sharp and louder than you’d ever heard.

You flinched, your heart racing as the sudden intensity of his reaction hit you. The night, once a haven of comfort and connection, now felt oppressive, the stars above seeming distant and indifferent to the turmoil unfolding below.

Joel’s eyes widened as he saw the fear in your gaze, and his anger dissipated almost immediately, replaced by regret and sorrow. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

You tried to steady yourself, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s okay,” you whispered, though your voice wavered. “I’m sorry."

Joel’s face crumpled with remorse, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “No, no, it’s alright,” he said urgently, his hands trembling as they held you close. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You let yourself sink into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm against the sharp edges of your fear. Joel’s arms were strong and reassuring, his apologies sincere as he gently stroked your back, his touch a contrast to the harshness of his earlier words.

The night around you seemed to settle, the tension easing as Joel’s grip tightened, holding you as if he could shield you from the weight of his own emotions. The stars above continued to shine, their distant light a reminder of the vastness of the world and the smallness of your own worries in the grand scheme of things.

Joel’s voice was soft now, filled with the weight of his remorse. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I just can’t talk about it right now.”

You nestled closer against Joel, the warmth of his body enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. “It’s okay, Joel,” you murmured softly, your voice a gentle caress against the backdrop of the night. “I’m sorry to push you, but I want you to know that I am here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right here, just like you are for me.”

Joel’s fingers brushed against your hair, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, a whisper of affection that traveled down to your cheek and finally to your lips. The kiss was brief but sweet, a promise of connection and understanding. He pulled you back into his embrace, both of you gazing up at the star-speckled sky.

The vastness of the night felt like a canvas, stretching out endlessly before you. You could feel the weight of your desires and dreams mingling with the cool night air, and a yearning for freedom began to take shape in your heart. “Joel,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “I want to go out. I want to get away from all of this. Will you come with me one day?”

The sincerity in your voice carried a longing for escape, for a fresh start where the past could no longer cast its shadow. You wanted to run away, to leave behind the chains of hurt and disappointment and start anew with Joel by your side. The dream of leaving it all behind, just the two of you, was intoxicating—a chance to be free from the constraints of your everyday lives and the ghosts of your pasts.

Joel’s eyes met yours, a flicker of determination lighting up his features. He could see the raw honesty in your gaze, the hope that shimmered like the stars above. “I promise you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere, “one day, we will. We’ll get out of here and start fresh. Just you and me.”

You felt a flutter of relief and happiness at his words, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your heart. The idea of a future together, unburdened by the past, seemed within reach now, a possibility painted against the backdrop of the night sky. Joel’s promise was a beacon of hope, a light guiding you through the darkness.

You lay there, side by side, under the vast expanse of the universe, the stars shining brightly above you. The night felt endless, full of potential and promise. The warmth of Joel’s presence, the softness of his touch, and the certainty of his promise wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, making the future seem just a little bit brighter.

In the quiet moments that followed, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life, one where the past was a distant memory and the present was filled with endless possibilities. With Joel by your side, the journey ahead felt less daunting, and the dreams of escape and freedom seemed like they could one day become a beautiful reality.

***

The sun cast a warm, golden light over the school grounds as you and your classmates, including Emma, practiced your dance routines for the upcoming church event. The afternoon air was filled with the sounds of music and the rustle of your movements as you and your friends rehearsed, perfecting every step and spin. The new Pastor Ben, fresh from Mexico with his wife Jemima, observed with an encouraging smile, his presence adding an extra layer of excitement to the practice.

Pastor Ben, young and charismatic, was the center of attention for many of the girls. His charm and good looks had quickly made him popular, and you could see why. Though you knew he was married, the admiration from your friends was palpable. Jemima, his wife, had been less present in the community, focusing on settling into their new life. You hadn’t interacted with her much, and you were more familiar with Ben’s friendly demeanor and the sparkle in his eyes that made him somehow likable among your friends.

As the practice came to a close, you and Emma walked outside the school, discussing the day’s rehearsals and sharing your thoughts on the choreography. The conversation was light-hearted, filled with giggles and the occasional sigh as you both reflected on the challenges and progress made.

Suddenly, Pastor Ben appeared beside you, his presence both surprising and pleasant. “Afternoon, girls. How did the practice go today?” he asked, his attention clearly focused on you.

You could feel the warmth of his gaze as he continued, “Any difficulties? How are you finding the choreography?”

You answered, your voice steady but with a hint of nervousness, “We’re making good progress. There were a few tricky moves, but we’re getting there.”

Ben nodded, his eyes never straying far from you. “You’re doing really well. I’ve noticed you’ve been putting in a lot of effort. It shows.”

Emma, ever the enthusiastic friend, chimed in, “Oh, we’re just working hard! It’s been a lot of fun, though. Don’t you think Pastor Ben has been so encouraging?”

Ben smiled at her but turned his attention back to you. “I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to check in and see how everyone’s doing. Is there anything you need help with?”

You felt a mix of emotions—flattered by his attention but also a bit uncomfortable given the context of the situation. Ben’s genuine interest was clear, but it was hard not to feel like you were under a spotlight.

“Thank you, Pastor Ben. I think we’re okay for now. It’s just a matter of practice,” Emma said.

He nodded, “If any of you ever need any extra guidance or just want to talk, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here to help.”

As Pastor Ben walked away, you felt a twinge of relief mixed with lingering confusion. You were still processing the interaction when Ellie’s familiar voice broke through, startling you slightly.

“Oh, that’s Pastor Ben,” Ellie said, a playful tone in her voice. She tapped you on the shoulder, making Emma and you turn to face her.

Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yep, that’s the new hot pastor,"

Ellie looked between you and Emma with a knowing smile. “So, what’s the gossip on Pastor Ben?”

Before Emma could answer, you asked Ellie if she was heading home. Ellie shook her head, her excitement palpable. “Nope, I’m going out with Joel. We’re going to practice shooting. You know, for deer hunting. Joel and I usually do this.”

Just then, the sound of a truck horn pierced the air, and Ellie waved enthusiastically. “Ah, there’s Joel now. See you later, guys!”

You watched as Ellie walked toward the truck, your gaze meeting Joel’s for a brief moment. You tried to hide your blush, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest whenever Joel was near.

Emma then suddenly said, "Ah the town's DILF,"

You choked caught off guard. “What did you just say?”

Emma laughed, leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, DILF—‘Dad I’d Like to’—you know the type. Joel’s like the ultimate Southern gentleman. He’s got that rugged charm. He looks like he works with his hands, and I bet he smells like Marlboro Reds. Everyone’s talking about how lucky Ellie is. Goddamn, he's just hot,"

You felt your cheeks flush deeper, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “Emma, stop. He’s much older than us.”

Emma raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh come on, you’re telling me you’ve never thought about Joel that way? I mean, he’s your dad’s best friend in high school, but just tell me you have right?”

You glared at Emma, trying to hide the twinge of jealousy you felt. “Emma, that’s inappropriate."

Emma pouted in mock innocence. “Oh, come on! Don’t be so uptight. We’re just talking. I’m sure you’ve had some thoughts, especially with how close you are with Joel right?"

You shook your head, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions bubbling inside you. “Seriously, Emma, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Emma grinned, undeterred. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. But you have to admit, Joel’s a pretty interesting guy.”

You gave her a half-smile, trying to brush off the teasing. “Emma..."

Emma’s grin remained as she walked alongside you, her excitement infectious despite your lingering discomfort. You both made your way home, your thoughts tangled with the events of the day.

As you approached your house, Emma’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Hey, you know what? My parents are out tonight. How about a sleepover at my place? We can hang out and have some fun. It’ll be a nice break before graduation.”

You hesitated, “I don’t know, Em. I’ve got a lot to prepare for graduation.”

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. Jim will be there too, and he’s a blast. Plus, you’ll have me to keep you entertained. What’s the harm?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your reluctance. “I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

Emma’s expression softened as she playfully pleaded. “Oh, please. It’ll be fine. Just come hang out. If you don’t, my parents might not let Jim over if it's just both of us. Pretty please?”

You sighed, weighing your options. Emma’s persistence was hard to resist, and you knew it would be a good chance to take your mind off things. “Alright, alright. I’ll come. But let me ask my mom first.”

Emma’s face lit up with joy. “Yes! Thank you! I promise we’ll have a great time.”

As you walked inside your house, you found your mom in the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner for herself. The smell of food filled the air, a comforting reminder of home.

“Mom, Emma invited me to a sleepover at her house tonight,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Is it okay if I go?”

Your mom looked up, her face reflecting mild surprise but also understanding. “A sleepover? Well, I suppose it’s fine. Just be sure to come home early tomorrow."

You nodded, relieved by her response. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back early.”

With your mother’s approval, you quickly gathered your things and headed back outside to meet Emma. Her excitement was palpable as she waited for you by the front gate.

“Great! Let’s go!” Emma chirped, grabbing your hand and leading the way.

As you walked to Emma’s house, your mind was still clouded by the earlier events. The thought of spending the evening with Emma and Jim was a welcome distraction from the swirl of emotions you had been feeling. You hoped it would be a chance to relax and clear your head before facing whatever came next.

Hours later, the three of you were lounging in Emma’s cozy living room, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows on the walls. After an exciting board game session, you settled down to watch "Gone with the Wind." Emma and Jim sat close together on the couch, their whispered conversations blending with the movie's dialogue. You tried to focus on the screen, but their growing intimacy was hard to ignore.

Emma giggled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You glanced over just in time to see them exchanging a tender kiss. Their kisses grew more passionate, and soon they were making out fervently. You turned your attention back to the movie, trying to block out the sounds of their affection, but it was no use.

"I'm going to take Jim to my bedroom," Emma said, her cheeks flushed. "Is it okay if you stay here alone?"

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yeah, it's fine. I want to finish the movie anyway."

Emma smiled and led Jim to her room, leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room. The hours passed slowly, the film a distant backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Their muffled voices and occasional moans filtered through the walls, filling you with a mix of curiosity and discomfort.

The next morning, you woke early and decided to make breakfast for everyone. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the kitchen as you worked. Emma was the first to join you, her hair tousled and eyes bright.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, giving you a warm smile. “Did you have fun playing board games last night?”

You returned her smile, feeling a genuine sense of friendship. "Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for inviting me."

Emma smiling to you, "You're a good friend," you smiled at her.

You hesitated at first, then asked the question that had been on your mind. "So, uh... about last night... did you and Jim...?"

Emma blushed slightly but didn't shy away. "You mean, am I not a virgin anymore? Yes. and I'm really in love with Jim. He's so kind and supportive. We’re thinking about getting married after we graduate, moving to a big city like Austin or Houston to start our lives together. He can work in a garage, and I'll stay home."

Her words made you think of Joel, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. "Have you ever been in love?" Emma asked, noticing your pensive expression.

“I don’t know,” you replied hesitantly. “I think about someone a lot, but I’m not sure what it means.”

“And have you ever... you know, had sex?” Emma asked.

Your body tensed, the memory of Jamie’s forceful actions coming to mind. You decided to lie and shook your head.

“Typical preacher’s daughter, stay pure, hon,” Emma said, her tone sincere rather than mocking.

You swallowed, feeling a mix of discomfort and curiosity. “How does it feel like?”

Emma’s expression softened. “Well, when you’re with someone you truly care about, it can be really special. It’s not just about the physical aspect, but the emotional connection. It’s like sharing something deeply personal with someone you love and who loves you back. It can feel very intimate and fulfilling.”

You nodded, trying to understand her words. “But isn’t it scary? Does it hurt?”

Emma smiled gently. “It can be, especially the first time. But when you’re with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe, it’s a lot easier. It’s important that you feel comfortable and loved.”

You took in her words, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “What if I’m not ready for that yet?”

Emma reassured you. “That’s completely okay. There’s no rush. It’s important to wait until you feel ready and comfortable. And remember, there are other ways to show affection and care for someone.”

You felt a bit of relief. “Like what?”

Emma leaned in slightly, her voice gentle. “Like, for example, giving him oral pleasure. It’s a way to show that you care about him and want to make him feel good. But it’s really important that you’re comfortable with whatever you choose to do. Communication and mutual respect are key in any relationship.”

You blushed, feeling a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. “I don’t know much about that. It sounds kind of… complicated.”

Emma smiled warmly. “It can seem that way, but you’ll learn what feels right for you and your partner as you go along. The most important thing is to have open conversations and make sure you’re both on the same page.”

You nodded, absorbing her advice. “Thanks for explaining."

Emma’s words lingered in your mind as you processed what she had said. The idea of intimacy was something you hadn’t explored deeply, shaped by the teachings you’d grown up with. Your father’s sermons had painted it as an ultimate sin, a taboo wrapped in layers of guilt and religious doctrine. The notion of sex had always been shadowed by the fear of moral failure, a breach of sacred promises that could never be undone.

Emma’s perspective, however, was a stark contrast. She spoke of intimacy as a beautiful, shared experience between two people who cared deeply for each other. It wasn’t just a physical act but a manifestation of affection and connection. It was a way to express love, to show that you cherish someone in the most personal and vulnerable way.

You thought about Joel, and how his kindness had touched you. His presence was like a gentle light breaking through a stormy sky—offering warmth, comfort, and a sense of security you had rarely felt before. The idea of pleasing him, of sharing something deeply intimate, seemed like a way to express your gratitude, to show him how much you valued his care and support.

It was as if you were standing at the edge of a beautiful, uncharted garden, its entrance hidden behind a veil of mist and uncertainty. The garden represented a space of connection, where the blossoms of affection and mutual respect could flourish. The thought of stepping into this garden with Joel was both thrilling and daunting. It was a step into the unknown, where the flowers of shared experiences and emotional intimacy awaited.

You contemplated the possibility of finding a way to share this garden with Joel, to offer him a gesture of affection that went beyond words. Maybe through a physical expression of care, you could bridge the gap between your feelings and his, creating a shared space where love could grow and flourish.

Emma’s reassurance and gentle explanations provided a new perspective, one that allowed you to see intimacy not as a forbidden act but as a potential expression of love and appreciation. You wondered if perhaps, in time, you could navigate this new terrain with Joel, guided by mutual respect and deep affection.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of court, mentions of shootings

Chris’s POV

It was early Saturday morning when Nate showed up at my place in Somerville, looking like he hadn’t slept a minute. He’d just been let go from the police station after being kept overnight. I could tell from the way his eyes darted around that he was still a little on edge. It wasn’t the first time Nate had found himself in trouble, but this was different. Getting arrested for carrying too much weed while being tied up with our crew was a whole new level of risky.

Nate and I were both part of the Crimson Cartel, a gang deeply embedded in Boston’s streets. His family had been involved for as long as I could remember, and his cousin Danny was one of the big players. I got pulled into it all because of Nate - our friendship was solid, and when he joined, it wasn’t long before I did too. 

“Got a joint, bro?”  Nate asked, his eyes already scanning the kitchen for one.

I laughed. “Seriously? You just got back from being arrested for possession, and you want to smoke up?”

“Hell yeah. What else am I gonna do?” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

I liked the occasional joint. It helped take the edge off, helped me relax when things got too hectic. But that was it - just weed, nothing harder. I knew where to draw the line. Sure, I sold drugs, but I didn’t get involved with any of the other shit. That was strictly for the older guys in the Crimson Cartel. Those were the ones who handled the hits, the intimidation, the gruesome work. They had been in the game for years, hardened by it. Nate and I, we were different.

We were the youngest in the gang - Me being 21, and Nate just 20, everyone else was 30+. We’d been involved since we were 16 & 17. Our job was simple: handle the drug runs, get the product from one place to another. No blood on our hands, no breaking bones or taking lives. It was a clean line, or at least that’s what I told myself. I wasn’t in this for the violence. Hell, I wasn’t even in this by choice, one bad decision snowballed, and now this was my life. My family freaked the fuck out when they found out. Kicked me out, didn’t want anything to do with me. That’s how I ended up living with my uncle Jerry, just trying to get by. I guess it helped having an uncle who liked to smoke too.

Just sell it – that’s what I kept reminding myself. I was good at it. I didn’t have to hurt anyone. I didn’t have to be like the older guys who let the gang swallow them whole. I wasn’t a thug, and I wasn’t going to become one. That’s how I stayed sane in all this.

The older guys in the cartel, though – they didn’t think like that. For them, it wasn’t just about the money. It was about power, about making a name for themselves on the streets of Boston. Nate and I didn’t fit into that. We were runners, sure, but we kept ourselves out of the violent shit. Nate had a reckless streak growing up, especially when he was with his cousin Danny, but even he didn’t want to cross that line.

Still, the older we got, the harder it became to stay in our lane. The more we were around, the more they expected from us. Every time I handed off a package, there was always this nagging feeling that eventually, they’d want more. Nate and I had managed to avoid that side of the cartel for now, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. There’s only so long you can run drugs before they start pulling you deeper in.

The truth was, this life had a way of blurring those lines. Sure, I wasn’t involved in any hits, but I was part of the same machine that funded them. Every deal I made, every bag I handed off, it all contributed to something bigger, something more dangerous. As much as I tried to keep myself at arm’s length from the bloodshed, I was still part of the problem. And deep down, I knew it. But I had to keep telling myself that it was different. That I was different. As long as I stayed on the edges of it, as long as I kept my head down and just did the runs, I wouldn’t have to cross that line. I wouldn’t have to become like Vince or Danny or any of the others who’d let the cartel define them.

We headed out the side gate of my bungalow and settled into the backyard. It was chilly, but the kind of brisk Boston morning you get used to. I pulled out a joint, lit it up, and handed it over as Nate slouched back into one of the old chairs. As he took a deep drag, I asked, “So, what the hell happened?”

He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up into the air. “Man, it was a mess. I was out helping Danny and Sully with a run. You know, just moving some weight, nothing crazy. But then Danny got a call, said one of the big guys from H Block was back in town, and he couldn’t let that slide.”

I nodded, knowing all too well how territorial things had gotten lately between us and H Block.

“So, next thing I know, we’re driving down Charles Street, street was silent as fuck not a sinner on the place. I’d just smoked a joint and was high as hell when Danny starts shooting. I panicked when the shots went off and I hopped out the car. The car took off, and I was stuck there like a damn fool.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head. “You didn’t try to get back in?”

“Nah, man. They were gone, and I freaked out. I didn’t want to stick around a crime scene, so I ran. Ended up at the Public Garden trying to blend in, but it’s October so I’m sat there freezing my ass off. Eventually, I had to leave, but cops were swarming everywhere and I’m still high as fuck so of course, I run into them.”

I laughed a little at the irony, but it quickly faded when he said, “They nailed me for carrying more than the legal amount of weed and suspicion of selling. And there’s already whispers about me being involved in the shooting. If that gets out, I’m screwed.”

“Jesus, Nate. So, what happens now?” I asked, taking the joint back from him.

“I’ve got until Monday to figure things out. That’s when my court appearance is.” Nate said, leaning back in his chair as though he wasn’t too worried.

I took a deep breath. “So, less than 48 hours?”

He nodded, eyes half lidded as the weed hit him. “Yeah, but my record’s clean. It’s the first time I’ve ever been caught with anything, so I should get off light. Worst case? A fine and some community service. I doubt they’ll throw me in jail.”

I passed the joint back to him. “And they don’t have anything solid linking you to the hit?”

“Not yet, I mean from what I remember no one else was around.” he said, exhaling smoke. “But you know how it is. If they start digging, anything could come up.”

I sat there, processing everything. Nate was right, he might be fine, but there was always the chance the cops would sniff out something worse. “You want me to do anything?”

“Yeah, actually” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m supposed to do a run in Roxbury tomorrow, but with the heat on me, I need to lay low. Can you cover it?”

I thought about it for a second. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

Nate nodded, looking relieved. He gave me the address, and I pulled out my phone to type it into my notes app. As I did, I noticed a drop down notification that made me freeze.

“@y/ny/l/n2 liked your photo.”

I blinked, staring at the screen. Y/n Y/l/n? It had been years since I’d heard that name. Curious, I clicked the notification, but by the time the app loaded, it was gone. There was no mention of her like, no new activity on the post. Weird.

Nate noticed I was distracted. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just.. an old name popped up,” I said, pocketing my phone.

“Old girl?” he teased, a grin forming on his face.

“Something like that” I muttered, still thinking about Y/n. I hadn’t seen or talked to her in years, but I couldn’t deny that her name stirred something in me. We had a brief thing back in 2018, nothing too serious, but I always had a soft spot for her.

Nate eventually decided to head home, needing some rest after his long night in the station. I waved him off, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Y/n. What was she up to these days? Was she still in Boston? Why did she like my post after all this time? What made her look at my Instagram?

That night, I went over everything for the run tomorrow, making sure I had everything in place. But no matter how much I tried to focus, I couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n.

She was one of those girls who left a mark on you, no matter how brief things had been. And even though it had been years, I couldn’t help but wonder what seeing her again might be like.

Monday came faster than I expected, and I found myself standing outside the Boston Municipal Court with Nate. He looked calm, or at least as calm as he could be given the situation. But I knew better. Nate always tried to play it cool, even when he was freaking out on the inside.

We hadn’t talked much since Saturday, and I could tell the nerves were starting to hit him now. His foot tapped restlessly on the courthouse steps as we waited for his case to be called. The morning air was crisp, the fall chill creeping in, and it wasn’t helping either of us settle.

“You’ll be fine” I muttered, trying to reassure him.

He gave me a tight smile. “Yeah, let’s hope so. Just gotta get through this.”

When they finally called Nate’s name, we both stood, making our way inside. The courtroom was filled with the usual mix of people – lawyers, family members, defendants. Everyone there for one reason or another, all waiting for their fate to be decided. As much as Nate tried to shrug it off, this was serious. The rumors about the hit on Charles Street were swirling, and we both knew if they got any real evidence, he was screwed.

Nate’s lawyer made a decent argument – first-time offense, clean record, no solid evidence tying him to anything worse than possession. They dragged it out longer than I thought they would, but in the end, the judge gave his ruling.

“A charitable donation of $2,000 and 50 hours of community service” the judge announced, his voice echoing through the courtroom. “Additionally, Mr. Doe, you are expected to refrain from any drug-related activities for the next 12 months. Any violation of this order will result in harsher consequences.”

The words were like a weight being lifted off Nate’s shoulders. He was let off easy. I knew he’d be able to pay the fine without blinking, and the community service? It was nothing. But the whole “refrain from drug-related activities” part? That was funny. We both knew that wasn’t happening. Nate just had to make sure he didn’t get caught.

As soon as the court was adjourned, I felt the tension drain out of me. Nate’s future was safe, for now. I clapped him on the back as we left the courtroom. “See? Not so bad.”

Nate grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, man, I guess I got lucky.”

But even though things had turned out okay, I needed to get out of there. The courtroom felt too small, too confined. I needed air, space to think, and to breathe. I left as fast as I could, practically jogging out of the courthouse doors and into the cool October breeze. It hit me like a wave, and I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my head.

That’s when I saw her.

The most strikingly beautiful girl I’d seen in years. A face that was hard to forget. Something in my chest tightened as I watched her walk across the courtyard, almost in slow motion. She was looking down at her phone, completely unaware of my presence.

And then it hit me. I knew that girl.

Wait–Y/n?

The same Y/n I hadn’t seen since 2018. The same Y/n who had been on my mind all weekend after that weird Instagram notification.

My feet were frozen in place, and for a second, I felt like time had stopped. There she was, standing just a few feet away, as if fate had decided to throw us back together after all these years.

Y/n.

What the hell were the odds?

I didn’t know if I should walk up to her or just keep my distance, but before I could make a decision, she looked up from her phone and our eyes locked. My heart skipped a beat.

There was no avoiding it now.

Y/n’s Pov

"Y/n?" His voice was deeper than I remembered, smooth yet surprised.

I blinked, still in awe of how good looking he still was. He had that same disheveled charm, the messy brown hair, sharp jawline, and those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through me. Only now, he was taller, broader. He had grown into himself, and it was impossible to ignore.

"Chris" I breathed, trying to act casual but failing miserably. "Wow, it’s been a while."

"It really has" he said with that signature smirk of his. "It’s nice to see you. You look great."

I could feel my cheeks heating up. "Thanks. You too."

We stood there for a moment, just taking each other in. It was surreal, seeing him after all these years. I didn’t even know what to say or where to start.

"So.. what are you doing here?" I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

He chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nate got into a bit of trouble, as you probably saw in there. I’m just here to support him."

"Right" I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around everything. Chris and Nate, in court. A few years ago, I never would’ve pictured it, well maybe Nate but not so much Chris.

"How’s life treating you?" he said, eyes scanning me in that way that made my heart flutter. 

"It’s good, actually. Just finishing up a big project for college. Still getting used to all the work, but I like it."

He nodded, his gaze softening. "I’m glad to hear it. You always had your head on straight."

Before I could respond, Nate appeared, walking up to us with his usual nonchalance. He looked at Chris first, then at me, a flicker of recognition passing across his face.

"I’ll wait for you in the car, man" Nate said, slapping Chris on the back before giving me a nod. "Nice seeing you."

I returned the gesture, watching as Nate sauntered off. It was so strange, seeing both of them like this. Nate barely glanced back, disappearing down the steps toward the parking lot. My eyes flicked back to Chris, who was still watching me with that familiar intensity.

"We should hang out sometime" he said, almost casually, but there was something more to it.

My stomach did a flip. "Yeah, that would be nice."

Chris smiled, a genuine one that sent my pulse racing again. "You’re still living in Beacon Hill, right?"

I shook my head. "No, we moved once I started college. My parents wanted a bigger house in a quieter area, so we’re out in Brookline now."

He nodded, while giving me a soft smirk. "That’s cool. I’ve still got you on Instagram. I’ll shoot you a message, and we can figure something out."

The casual mention of Instagram made my face burn. He definitely saw the notification. I could feel the heat rising up my neck. But if he knew, he didn’t say anything. He just gave me that same charming smile, one that felt all too familiar.

"Yeah, sounds good" I mumbled, trying to keep my cool.

With one last glance, he gave me a quick nod before turning to leave. I watched as he walked away, feeling the blood rush to my face. The way he moved, the effortless confidence — it all hit me at once.

Chris was back in my life, just like that. And somehow, it felt like things were about to get a lot more complicated.

a/n: first chris povvvv

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @slutniolo @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69

[differentpostrebel]

Master List! 

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is the masterlist for my work. I will also be uploading them onto AO3. A little bit about me is that I love to write, read, watch anime, and more!. I am 27 years old, and writing has just been my way to get either a message out there or to tell a story. Some stories will have bonus chapters so that we can dive in some more on details that may not have been featured on the main series. Each one will say a bonus chapter on them. I will also write: 

Short series, 

Long Series, 

One shots. 

Some of the chapters may contain strong language, violence, smut, etc. Listed below are the works I have done and the new ones that will be worked on once I completed the series or works done. 

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise- Sanji x Y/N, One piece x Reader- (On going) Synopsis: 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36 Chapter 37, Chapter 38 , Chapter 39 , Chapter 40 , Chapter 41 Chapter 41.5 (Bonus Chapter) , Chapter 42 , Chapter 43 Chapter 44 , Chapter 45 , Chapter 46 , Chapter 47 , Chapter 48 Part 1 , Chapter 48 Part 2, Chapter 49 Part 1 , Chapter 49 Part 2 , Chapter 50 , Chapter 51 , Chapter 52 (new)

Queen of the Night-Halloween special ft Sanji and Usopp

Die with a Smile - Portgas D. Ace x Y/N- (coming soon) 

[mylordshesacactus]

The Barrissoka Fusion You Never Knew You Wanted

So in celebration of FINALLY rounding out the originally-planned slate of barrissoka Disney AU/fusion challenge fics, I thought I'd put together a masterlist for those of you who are new, returning, or just never got around to them when they were first posted!

By sheer good luck, there are an even split of AU types--three fusions (ie, Star Wars characters adapted to a non-GFFA setting), and three alternate timelines (where the core setting is the same, but events developed differently--in this case, in a way analogous to the core plot of the movie the challenge was based on.).

Fusions

Through The Darkness And The Shadows

Setting: Fantasy-Medieval AU: Beauty and the Beast

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young princess lived in a shining castle…

It'll Sound Like A Promise

Setting: Fantasy-Medieval (Scotland Redux) AU: Brave

A clan leader’s heir had to strive for perfection. That was why Ahsoka was currently hiding in a tree.

Look To The Sky With Hope

Setting: Pirates/Fantasy Age of Sail AU: Pirates of the Caribbean (62k, 5 chapters)

Anakin Skywalker. Every sailor knows that name. Captain of the ghost ship Twilight, ferryman of the dead. Some say he preys on merchantmen, out of vengeance for the loss of his ship and crew; others that he and the charred black phantom are an honest sailor's friend, a protector in the dark and the mist. According to Ahsoka, the truth is both and neither. But the Twilight is...well, it's not real. Barriss Offee may be new to this whole pirate thing, but she knows that. It's a legend, a story, a sailor's superstition; like mermaids and Fridays and the Kraken. The ship of the dead and its captain, they're just a myth. Aren't they?

Alternate Universes

Going My Way?

AU: Aristocats Podfic: By Writers_Block, available here.

Shipwrecked and stranded on a remote agricultural planet, Barriss Offee doesn't dare reveal her identity as a Jedi for fear of drawing unwanted attention that might endanger the younglings in her care. Enter the charming, compassionate young spacer Ashla, who drops everything to take the group under her protection and asks nothing in return, as Barriss grows more and more unhappy with the necessity of lying to a young woman who's been nothing but honest with them. Meanwhile, Ahsoka Tano and her master are on an undercover mission. She really wishes she could tell the scared young mother she's taken in that she's a Jedi, but, well. The mission has to come first.

Back To The Wind

AU: Cars. (I cannot emphasize enough that this is an AU and not a fusion. They are not cars. They are people. For the love of god. It's just a plot adaptation. Please stop asking me if they're supposed to be cars.)

A hyperdrive malfunction strands Ahsoka in a nearly-abandoned trading settlement in the Outer Rim. That's not the problem. While she works off her community service sentence, she ends up in the unofficial custody of a weirdly hostile Mirialan who won't stop giving her these long, searching looks and talking about the failures of the Jedi Order like she knows something Ahsoka doesn't. That's not the problem either. The problem is...Ahsoka's starting to wonder if she really wants to go back.

When These Moments Have Passed

AU: The Fox and the Hound

Jedi Master Plo Koon was sent to Shili to retrieve a Force-sensitive youngling...and arrived just a few hours too late. Years later, a Jedi padawan and an indentured bounty hunter find themselves in the same spaceport. They shouldn't be friends, not really, but...they're more alike than they are different, straining under the weight of roles they can't escape. That bond is stronger than the galaxy's expectations. Until it isn't.

Bonus

While these are NOT part of the very specific "I can turn any classic Disney movie into a barrissoka AU, fucking try me" original challenge that spawned all this, they're some very nice AUs and if you're into AUs in general, you'll probably appreciate:

Iced Offee, Caramel Twist

AU: Coffeeshop AU

(What? Someone had to write it.)

Mirror, Mirror

AU: Sith AU

(Series/Duology)

[sexydoffyman]

FRIENDS TO LOVERS P.2

genre: romance/fluff

characters: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

P.1 P.2 P.3 P.4 P.5

“Now, I know that this might be a bit too rushed, but you are going to be joining forces.” Your captain announced. “Wait. What do you mean by “you” what about you captain?” You said before anyone else could add anything.

You were pretty close to your captain. Leaving his team only for one mission was a pretty big deal for you. He had known you since you joined the army. He led you through unimaginable hardships.

“Don’t worry. Captain Price and I were great friends since before most of you went to school.” You looked worriedly at your captain, but you trusted him to put you in good hands. “We don’t have anything to do at the moment. Unlike us Price and his task force have one hefty task.” You listened quietly, wondering why he couldn’t also go along.

“Reader name, I think that you would be an exceptional addition to their team. You would be doing the same thing as you do now.” You didn’t know what to say, but since they knew each other for such a long time, he had to know exactly who Price needed.

“What would be the “great” support we would get” You looked over your shoulder. You saw the emo guy looking at you almost mockingly. It was like he was telling you that you don’t belong there. “Quite the tone for someone whose calling is “Ghost��.” You muttered under your breath.

You understood that he would make you prove yourself. He would want to drag you through the dirt just to test you.

“Ghost” Price almost barked at him. At this moment you noticed the amount of respect between him and his crew. They had a bond that not many people have. They trust each other with their lives, so if you wanted to be a part of the team, you had to get up and show what you’re worth.

“Reader name is going to be our eyes and ears” You understood why you were here. In combat, although not bad, you weren't so great either. You were smaller than most of the soldiers you met. You weren’t incredibly short, but amongst soldiers, you definitely felt like you were.

Most people would see their size as a disadvantage. And so did you, at first. That was until your captain showed you how to use your weaknesses to your advantage. He taught you how to navigate through vents. He helped you overcome your claustrophobia, and that was all you needed. He learned that you were a naturally great actor. You knew your way with words. Most of the time you were getting intel and getting your team out of sticky situations. That’s what you’re good at.

“You are all going to be transferred to a different base where you will meet up with a lady named Laswell. She will tell you further information.” Your captain announced. The others nodded, meaning that they must’ve known her. “Pack up your things. We are going today evening. You may go now.” Price said.

Everyone, including you, started leaving the room. You walked through a hallway together and then went your separate ways. Before you turned to go to your barracks, you spoke to your captain. “Hey, how long will we be at the base before the mission and how long will the mission be?”

He looked at you with a smile. “Reader name, you don’t have to worry about being away from us. They may be a little rough at first, but you need to grow some guts. I’m not fully aware of the details of the mission but be prepared to spend at least five days before you meet Laswell. She will tell you everything else.” He patted your shoulder and walked away.

“Sure I can last five days of them testing me.” You thought as you began walking.

[zosanmylove]

So, in canon Sanji has never been sick right?? So what if, he spend almost his entire prenancy being sick as fuck. Like Drum Island Nami level of sick but without the deadly part.

It would start with him feeling discomfort in his lower back and stomach, and it bothers him when he cooks or try to court the crew's ladies, and Chopper explains him that's it's normal, no need to worry. but then the morning sicknesses keep getting worst and worst and he has more and more struggles sleeping.Sometimes he'll wakes up from a 5 minutes long nightmare vomiting all he had for diner and traight up crying. Soon he can't even leave his bed, since he reached Drum Island Nami level of sick.

And right next to this mess there's Zoro who feels impossibly guilty. After all, he was the one who knocked up the cook wasn't he? And Zoro character is all about protecting his nakama, even if he has to die for it, so now that his own husband, who's supposed to fight with his legs to protect his precious cook's hand, can't even stand and is stuck in bed unable to defend himself, he feels so bad. So the rare times Sanji can actually sleep, he go and train twice as hard as before. He doesn't even take naps anymore, he becomes a training machine. He has to become strong enough to protect the three of them. To compensate for Sanji. These are the only times the crew see him, because most of the time he's in the bedroom where Sanji is resting.

And the cook finds it comforting, but he can see that Zoro is exausted even if he was probably the only one. He ask him how on all the Blues he's supposed to actually protect them if they get attacked and he's exausted from the training, so Zoro start to actually sleep 8 hours a night.

And of course he spends them with his husband. The blond man became huge really fast, so he had to start sleeping on his side , wich practically never happens when he sleeps with Zoro because in that case he would just lay on top of him and use his chest like a pillow. But now it's impossible. So Zoro spoons him while caressing his belly. He actually feels kind of useful when he does that, since Sanji stop shaking and it must be a relief to share the heavy weight with someone else.

These moments are a reminder that yes, it hurt, but hey, they've been through worst times. And this time there was another life on the line. One that would scell their bond into bones, blood and flesh.

And there comes the complicated birth but that's a whole other story lmao

[tarotomorrows]

WE GOT THE OG 5 IN THE HOUSE!!! This is part of my Inside Out punk au. Their band name is Harmony! So let me introduce their roles and how they came to be. PART 2

Our 3rd member is Fear! He joined Joy and Sadness’s clique way back in their 7th grade year.

He is the only band member who didn’t join already knowing how to play an instrument. In fact he actually started at the artist and would often make designs for the band’s potential logo and was very keen on staying out of any potential limelight. Although during the 8th grade talent show Joy and Sadness needed someone to play the guitar as Joy was planning to do some acrobatics/dancing choreography while singing and didn’t have the stamina to play and sing at the same time. Fear knew how much this meant to the two and had seen them practice for weeks and with only 2 weeks left he pushed his own fears aside and offered to learn the chords to the song to help the duo out. In the end he liked playing so much that he continued even after the show and with enough practice later on joined as the 3rd member.

During their time on the tour Joy forced them all into. He was the first to deny and the most out of it while on the trip. In fact he it got so bad it would interfere with playing which would upset Joy and the others but as time passed on it only seemed to bother Joy in the end.

He missed home and he didn’t ask for this but didn’t want to start conflict so in an act of desperation to feel heard he confided in Sadness about his true thoughts on the matter which sparked the ignition for Sadness to really have a talk with Joy about the stakes this whole music career dream has gotten them into. Once it was announced by Joy that they would be returning home he was ecstatic he didn’t care why he was just glad they were. Right? I mean what does it matter if the reasons are known…

Next is Anger he’s the teams killer drummer and owner/designated driver of Bing Bong! (The giant mini van the crew uses to travel in, who Joy named Bing Bong because of the silly sound the horn makes).

He was the fourth to be recruited to the team. After getting sent to detention for one of her senior pranks Joy met Anger in detention where she over heard the accidental killer rhythm he had going with his shoe and pencil tapping. Joy asked if he played he gave a simple eyes roll, which was good enough for Joy. She begged him to join and he proposed she couldn’t do anything in the world that would make him join her crazy idea. In the end Joy proved him wrong by breaking both if them out of detention and also returning the item he had stolen from him that he fought trying to get back (the whole reason which got him into detention his drumsticks). Reluctantly out of the honor system and due to a possible charming face he caved and became the band’s official drummer.

He may or may not have had issues with the whole unorganized and possibly dangerous on the road tour trip but he had faith in Joy’s judgement and the strength and bonds of the rest of the group. However the more and more the trip dragged on the more and more he started to realize just how far apart they actually were…

Last but certainly not least is Disgust! Although not a band member she is still an important asset of the crew as their manager. She handles finances,bookings, and how their brand is presented and NO, She will not be dressing in rags (aka how she refers to the punk/alt aesthetic) but she will deck herself out in her own uptown style.

She was the last to join the crew. Although friends with everyone since sophomore year she never partook in any of their “rough housings” she called it. She never saw the appeal in getting all sweaty and lugging around heaving metal equipment but one day Joy asked for her help to organize the flyers for the show they were doing for the Senior Festival.

Getting to talk about how amazing her friends were and how she’s affiliated with them and getting to look pretty while doing it. Now that was something she could do not to mention managing the funds for new equipment and getting to style them with awesome costumes for when they started doing shows outside of school. She loved everything about it the generosity, hanging out with friends, and the popularity…

During the trip she was the second to snapping, Fear obviously was the first. During the trip she did her best to manage the finances with the best odds she could, it started off alright but of course later on their lack of funds lead to more cramped nights sleeping in the van. It came to a point where she started to up-sale some of their merchandise in hopes of allowing the everyone to eat a full meal or have enough gas. After the fateful night Fear confided with Sadness, Disgust, overhead their conversation and grew livid, she could live with Joy’s delusions but blind ignorance towards other people’s own well being was not on the table. She swore that night that if Joy couldn’t see that this was beyond hopeless she was gonna knock her around and make her see it. That fateful evening when dinnertime arrived Disgust did more than just expose Joy’s selfishness but also how morally and emotionally taxing this dream of hers has been on all of them and what she’s had to resort to doing to meet ends meet for everyone. In the end Joy stormed off which is what prompted Sadness to have that heart to heart later on in the night.

In the morning after Joy announced about them going back to Anderson Falls a huge relief was lifted off their chest. Well some relief she still felt horrible about how Joy had treated them. However she wasn’t going to apologize for what she said to her, you don’t say sorry not for being right at least. So she vowed that until Joy owned up to her mistakes back home they’d keep the pleasantries to a minimum and distance herself as far as she could. It’s not like she had to try very hard as Joy had already began to stop talking or listening to her. Which is fine she can wait till Joy’s ready to be a grown up, she can patient I mean that’s all she’s ever given anyone. She can keep waiting, it doesn’t matter how long it takes…

[invalidstories]

Masterlist

Coming soon: the title is blue ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNew(came out in the past week):🌱 next to it

Hero x Villain:

Moonlit Bonds: Villain notices the Hero doesn't look well and takes care of them.

Unexpected: Villain has a soft spot for children.

Unity: Hero finds an injured Villain on their doorstep.

Forbidden Love: Forbidden attraction between a hero and a villain.

Villain's Lair (Part 1, Part 2): Roaming through the villain's lair, the hero finds many unexpected things.

Betrayal: Once friends became enemies.

One Bed: One-bed trope.

Shadows of Justice (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3): Villain uncovers the truth about Hero.

Beneath the Mask: Hero learns about Villain's trauma.

Elevator Blackout: Hero and Villain get stuck in an elevator together.

Masquerade Ball: Hero and Villain at a masquerade ball with forbidden attraction.

Enemies at the Café: A suicidal hero, and a villain who wants to help.

Camp Counselors: Hero and Villain are forced to be camp counselors.

Memories: Supervillain is jealous of Villain and Hero's love and erases their memories.

Movie Date: Villain brings Hero to a date.

Dramatic Hero (Prompt 1): Hero tricks the Villain.

Acts of Kindness: Villain had a rough day and Hero cheers them up.

Drunk Hero (Prompt 2): Villain encounters a drunk Hero, and takes care of them.

Palette of Fate (Part 1, Part 2): Civilian is kidnapped by a lovesick dangerous villain.

Love's Betrayal (Prompt 3): Hero betrays Villain. Once lovers turn enemies.

Puzzle (Prompt 4): Villain needs help with a puzzle (+ pinned Hero)

Enemies to Lovers Dialogue Prompts: Dialogue Prompts

Familiar Face: Hero trips Villain

Angst Dialogues Prompts

Misplaced Trust: Hero trusted the wrong person

Reunion After Suffering Dialogue Prompts

The Price of Defiance: Villain has captured Hero 🌱

Captured Villain (Prompt 5) 🌱

Other Writing:

Quote: "...everything takes time and I'll be fine"

Be Curious Passage

Book Quote: "I hope you have the courage to..."

"We are all born so beautiful, the greatest tragedy is"

"Speak to people in a way that if they died the next day..."

"Some wars help us bloom"

Being brave doesn't mean you're never afraid, it means...

"Be the reason someone feels..."

"...Don't tell me my worth when you haven't seen like from my eyes."

"...regret is stronger than gratitude."

"I wonder what is a greater wish..."

FanFictions:

Lunar Reverie (Part 1, Part 2): Rumors about the queen spread around, and The Rapion Crew loses trust.

Art:

Digital Forest Art

Candle Flame Painting

Castle Painting

Waterfall

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun. 

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day. 

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you. 

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain. 

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?” 

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are. 

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp. 

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher. 

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek. 

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face. 

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it? 

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?” 

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.” 

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay. 

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you. 

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response. 

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening. 

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence. 

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day. 

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you. 

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying. 

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin. 

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges. 

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time. 

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back. 

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough. 

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound. 

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns. 

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements. 

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command. 

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight. 

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep. 

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down. 

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable. 

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

[lillyspeakz]

sorryanon: robberbur and hostage!reader in an elevator. guns are involved. hellooooooo

warnings: dubcon, use of dove and bunny, this is part 1…. Sorry if it’s shit!

-

You didn’t expect your weekend to turn out like this. Being stuck in an elevator with quite a handsome man that held a nerf gun at you, pressing buttons upon buttons to try and get out of their.

“That’s not going to work-“

“Did I say you could speak?” The man hissed as he pressed the fake gun to your temple, bending down to be face to face. He took his glasses off, showing his deep brown eyes that filled with frustration. Something else glazed over his eyes, something you couldn’t quite read but you were to impatient to wait and find out.

“No but you’ve been doing the same thing for 5 minutes, and it’s getting annoying. And what do you think you’re going to do with that plastic piece of shit? I can’t believe you actually almost successfully robbed this place.” You laughed at the man as he pursed his lips, anger flooding his senses at your words. You were the one bonded together on the floor, not him. He has control over you and you thought you could make fun of him and his crew for doing this? Not on his watch.

The man pulled you up to your feet, pressing you against the elevator doors with the gun pointed at your chest. “Speak to me like that again, and it won’t look pretty for you.” He hissed out at you, leaning down closer to you. He was significantly taller by all means, having to lift your head to look at him. It was honestly arousing, his face so close to yours, eyes looking at you with so many emotions you couldn’t identify them now. His free hand came out and placed itself beside your head, caging your body further.

As you both stared at each other, his dead eyes not lifting for one second while yours filled with want and hesitation. You didn’t want to admit it, but this man did something to you, something carnal. And he could sense it.

“In what way?” You asked to the man, his hand slowly falling, filling the space where the gun once was with his body. A loud clanking sound was heard as he threw the plastic on the floor, his hand gripping your jaw as he tilted your head further to look at him properly.

The look in his eye was primal. He wanted you, in more ways than before, as his eyes ran down the span of your body. Eyes meeting yours once more, his grip slipped down to your throat , gently pressing down, smirking at the small gasp you let out. He loved the control he had over you, loved how powerless and small you looked underneath him.

“What way did you have in mind, darling? After all we are stuck in here-“ he was cut off as you charged forward, desperate for his lips on yours. You couldn’t quite reach him, his height stopping your advancements, making you whine and him laugh at you. “Such a pathetic little baby, use your words.”

You didn’t say anything for a couple seconds, too stubborn to answer his question. But the look he gave you and that stupid fucking smirk of his didn’t help your little game. “Just fucking kiss me! And maybe get this fucking rope off me-“

Wilbur’s grip on your throat tightened as his lips met yours in a hot kiss, while his other hand tugged the loose rope off of your wrist. He knew that you wouldn’t do anything. And if you did, he had the clear advantage. It was almost like a sick twisted game of cat and mouse.

The kiss never stopped, tongues tangling with each other as you nipped at his lip. You were acting like hiring teenagers but could you blame each other. The situation heightened your senses, and the man in front of you was to fine to ignore. So why not use this spare time.

Your hands reached up into his hair, pushing his hot pink beanie off, his hair flying every which way. As you pulled at his strands, his kisses trailed down your neck, sucking marks into your skin, desperately trying to find that one spot-

“Oh fuck-“ bingo. The man attacked that spot with vigor and determination, loving the sounds that escaped your mouth, his hands now gripping your waist and tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Before he could get his hands underneath the material, the elevator started to move down, startling you and the man as you looked at the floor level you were currently on. As you panicked, the realization dawning on you that this was actually happening, the elevator suddenly stopped once more.

You turned to the man, seeing his hand on the emergency stop button, smirking at you as you gave him a nervous look.

“Didn’t think I was just gonna let that happen when we just got started, yeah? I’m not that mean baby.” He came back over to you, lifting your chin once more as you met his eyes. He cooed at your nervous state, not wanting to scare you anymore than he has. “It’s ok my dove, I won’t hurt you, unless you want me to of course.. I’m Wilbur- Wil if you’d like.” Wil introduced himself as he pushed you up against the wall once more, your arms wrapping around his neck, lips hovering over his.

“I’m-“

“No need darling, I already know who you are. But for now you’re my pretty bunny and are here so I can use you in any way I like…”

taglist: @number1wilburfan @horny-p0et @evil-peanut-butter-addict-sam @heartofwritiing (if you want to be added, send me an ask or comment!)

[caliburn-not-calculator]

I ramble about: VR-LA’s Character Arc

I feel like I’m just saying loads of the obvious with this but I still wanna say it cause it’s in my head and won’t leave.

Anyway, heads up for mention of: Suicidal Ideation and Tendencies

VR-LA’s story starting from a place of absolute aloneness and even suicidal ideation, but ending with so many families, friends, and homes and a promise made in the maze of life to keep on going… It has me feeling things

He begins with nothing but flimsy phantom feelings from his past and his strengthening relationship with his friends keeping him stable. And, as seen with the Zuggtmoy madness and the despondency well, without them he ends up right back in that spiral. Right back in that trap of wondering it it would better to have not woken up on the ship.

Later, his isolation through his wish and utter dedication finding his old crew puts a slight wedge that relationship. His drive to find his past nearly breaks his present, and he ends up having to reconstruct both his bonds with them (though minorly) and his old crew. It’s the thing that leads him to try and leave his past in the past, and focus on what he has now. He tells Dani that when he dies it’ll be on this ship, that he isn’t going anywhere. He picks this life over the old one. That connection to his family and home that has kept him going, now stronger… but not yet healthy, not yet healed. The stubborn refusal to leave his past comminuted to be put to rest through season 4 now he’s learned how unhealthy it was to dwell on it. Killing Endellion, proclaiming to his old crew that the old him is gone, being willing to give up the ship to Dani. Being willing to give up and leave behind the home he once pledged to die on. All of that showing how his outlook has progressed from the Then, to the Now, setting up the lead in to the Later he comes to look forward to in season 5.

But at this point, VR-LA’s pledge to die on the ship is still standing, until all of sudden that declaration is thrown into question by his promise to Maxim. An unexpected moment, maybe considered quietly in the back of his mind for awhile, but now coming to a head at the wake up call that is Maxim’s constant refutes to VR-LA risking his life. Maybe it wasn’t fully true at the time, maybe it was part desperate ploy to win him over and part the first realisation that the future he had always thought inevitable didn’t have to be. Whatever it was, that first promise set him on the path to looking not just back, not just around, but forward.

An episode later, VR-LA is lost in the not so metaphorical maze of life. He knows his past and how he feels about it, he knows his present and all the new bonds he’s formed in this second life. But the question of what comes next looms before him, despite his gripes with what happened before, this is the major decision he faces. And it isn’t the death on the ship he always thought would come, the death he once considered accepting while adrift, but rather… life. What he finds and chooses at the end of the maze is a long life, well lived. The exact opposite of everything he thought he had always been moving toward.

I was not expecting to find a story about coming to heal from suicidal ideation in my silly autism robit but oh boy… oh fucking hell is it there.

AND THEN, how he literally ends the series with a proclamation that no longer is he going to “die on this ship” or “wonder if it would be better to not wake up”, but that he’s taking dying of old age a challenge. How he refuses anything less than that. How despite his new dangerous position, despite stepping up and not back, he is not looking for anything less than that future he found at the end of the maze.

VR-LA starts too focused on the past, moves on to trying to focus on his present, then eventually the future. And if that progression wasn’t good enough, by the end he manages to have them all. His memories and old crew, the crew of the Per Aspera and a life of adventure, his increasingly pivotal role as magister and his aim to grow old.

Like, when I first heard the silly “Hello! I am VR-LA :D” and “Will you be our captain?” robot, I was not expecting a story about overcoming suicidal tendencies and growing to accept and combine all aspects of yourself. Like, fucking hell WHY IS HE LIKE THIS HSJDBDKDBDKFB

It’s such a well done arc for an improv show, and yeah there’s the little awkward unclear points but overall it’s so fulfilling and complete, while leaving further room to settle and heal. Right from season one he proclaims it’s the fight against entropy that makes life worth living, and the the whole show he fights that fight with himself. He goes from someone willing, and perhaps even on some level wanting, to die, to someone actively fighting for the opposite. He goes from empty of will to live and memory to, in his own words, “overflowing”.

Anyway, I love this silly robot, he makes me feel too many things, and I can’t wait to see what new stories come to pass next campaign.

[flowery-mess]

Homesick

I don't really know what this is, it came to me at 1AM like wave of feelings that I suddenly needed to write down. Let me know if you like it.💗

Today was perfect day. In every aspect, it was perfect, so why am I standing on the balcony, looking down at people celebrating Nick and his beautiful wife's wedding, crying and with anxiety attacking my body?

.

.

All of the Bad omens crew have been looking up to this day ever since Nick proposed to his girlfriend. Boys, including Noah, knew about it, but to everyone else it was surprise.

Me and Nick's girlfriend are close, we clicked immediately when Noah and Nick introduced us.

So I couldn't help but burst into happy tears when she send me picture of her hand with this beautiful ring Nick chose for her. It was almost a year ago, but it felt like yesterday.

.

Me and other bridesmaids spent the night before the wedding together with the bride to be, while boys used mine and Noah's apartment to hang out with Nick.

We woke up early and started with preparations. It was messy and chaotic, but I enjoyed it in a way. Seeing my friend with a smile on her face as she was about to marry the love of her life made me think about my friends back home.

I moved to the states 5 years ago for work. And for a change. My life back home was a mess and I needed to escape it. I stayed in touch with my best friends, but you can stay as close as the ocean between you allows you to.

We didn't expect that I would stay, I had work offer for a year. But then I met Noah. I never thought I would stay in a foreign country for a boy. When I extended my work contract we were dating only for 3 months, but it felt right.

After everything bad and sad that happened at home before I left, something finally felt right.

5 years later we are still together and I know I made right decision.

But it had sacrifices.

I never had a strong relationship with my family, I always considered my friends as my family. I moved from my hometown to a different town for university and saw my family just a few times a year, usually for occasions like someone's birthday. In a family aspect, I felt alone. I never called my mum to tell her about a boy I met or for cooking advice. She was always busy giving her time to her boyfriend, who I wasn't fan of. Neither he was of me. We drifted apart so easily and neither of us tried to put this so called mother daughter bond back together.

Between me and my dad wasn't a bad blood. We just had very casual relationship. We saw each other once in a few months, which now changed to phone calls once in a few months. He cares about me and loves me, we just weren't close at any point of my life.

So with my blood family, moving was easy.

But being without my friends? That hurts. Especially when I'm spending time with my new friends here in the states, like today.

I was part of the preparations, cake tasting, choosing dresses, making playlist and anything else you can think of. And I loved that. It just made me think of my childhood best friend's wedding. I could take only few days off at work, so I barely made it to bachellorete party, then wedding and then I came back here.

To help you understand my point, my friends went through every shit in my life. My parents divorce, my grandmother's cancer, my mom bringing home this new boyfriend, moving out of my childhood home to a new place, high school, moving for university, crying about my mother or crying about my heart breaks. They were there for me all the time.

.

.

After we had our makeups and hair done, me and other bridesmaids went to welcome the guests that started arriving at the venue.

It was family, friends and the BO crew, except for all four boys that actually created the band. Noah is Nick's best man and Folio and Jolly are groomsmen.

I started to feel homesick and guilty for enjoying my 'new' friends wedding that much with thought of my childhood friends. I couldn't wait for Noah to arrive to make me feel better.

.

"Excuse me lady, the legend says that the bride should be the most beautiful woman on a wedding day." I must have laughed at Noah's joke when he arrived while we had just a few minutes to talk before the ceremony started.

"Well I could say the same about you sir." I said as I placed my hands around his neck and pecked his lips.

"But really, you look beautiful Y/N." He said suddenly with a serious face, but with sincere look in his eyes as his hand caresed my cheek.

I think we both realized that our friends are getting married and that this day is gonna be full of love and happiness and that we're gonna spend it together.

.

The ceremony started just a few minutes after Noah and the boys have arrived. I was paired with Folio to walk down the aisle. I call Folio my Bad omens best friend. He's the one I'm closest with, we have the same sense od humor and I am voluntarily going fishing with him. I think that's how I get him to be my bestie.

.

I am very emotional person and I teared up a lot through the day, but when I saw Noah walk down the aisle I felt tear slide down my cheek. He was beautiful. I saw him in a suit only few times, so I am always amazed by how amazing he looks in it. Our eyes were locked the whole time he walked the aisle, we were smiling like it was ours wedding and I saw tear slip down his cheek too.

I was thinking if he's gonna ever propose to me, because we didn't talk about it yet. And with his family background and commitment issues, I am not sure if he even wants a marriage. He worked on himself a lot through our relationship, our begining wasn't easy. But we communicated and talked about our feelings to make it where we are today.

.

After the ceremony came to an end we moved to the lunch area, where me and Noah could finally spend some time together.

"It was really beautiful wasn't it?" I asked him with my mouth full with this delicious meal.

"It was. I didn't think I'd be this emotional."

"It was hard not to be."

We contiued to eat our meals, then there were some speeches and then the party began.

.

After few drinks the dancefloor was full with dancing bodies. Playlist was made of all genres and hits you could imagine. We were dancing in a circle, me and Folio the stars of the dancefloor.

Then Love story by Taylor Swift started playing and my mind went back to my thougts I had at the altar.

Noah came to me, connected our hands and started dancing with me. He wasn't fan of dancing, but he would do anything to make me happy.

We were swaying to the rhytm of the song and singing those famous lyrics.

"I can't wait until our day looks like this too." Noah said out of nowhere.

"Our day?" I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I had a feeling.

"Yes, our day. I'm gonna marry you, did you think I am not going to?" He looked genuely surprised and maybe little hurt that I would think that.

"I just didn't know what is your opinion about marriage, we never had that conversation." I answered honestly. Taking his face in my hand and caresing my thumb on his cheek I couldn't resist the smile on my face.

"I know we didn't, but I was thinking about it. I never thought about it before I met you, but I also never thought I could have relationship longer than a few months, so I started thinking about marriage." He looks so cute and all flastered when he talks about his feeling, specially his feelings about me.

"I like that idea of you being my husband very much." I saw the uncertainty leave his face after my words.

"And I like the idea of you being my wife very much too."

.

After that song and conversation I excused myself and went to the bathroom.

I felt those anxious feelings in my chest and tears forming in my eyes. It was mix of happy and frustrated tears. I tried to compose myself and not to ruin the mood for myself and for everyone else.

.

That brings me to this moment where I'm standing at balcony and looking at everyone under me. Thank god the lights are pointing at the dancefloor, so I am hiden in a shadow and no one, especially Noah, can see the tears streaming down my face.

I should be happy. After today and the conversation with Noah, I should be happy. Why am I not happy? Or am I? Why do I feel like I have everything I ever wanted, but had to sacrifice my closest friends for it? Do I even like this country that I moved to? What if I want to move back home in the future, will Noah come with me? I suddenly felt so unsure about everything. So many thoughts running through my head as I continued watching those happy faces, while mine was soaked in tears.

[pooks]

alright, time to dive into part 5; the Alabasta Saga feat. straw hat!Ichiji

into the Grand Line and encountering Laboon

we start first at the Reverse Mountain Arc, where our heroes passes the Red Line and into the Grand Line. Ichiji is very excited and unfortunately, gets a massive panic-induced anxiety attack.

i mean, come on. first, they nearly crash into the mountain when they're riding on the stream up the mountain, then they almost crashed into a giant whale and then, they get EATEN by the same whale

Ichiji stays with his crew while Luffy got (briefly) seperated from them. Ichiji is very confused about how they ended up in a resort (?) inside the whale and meets the strange old man, Crocus.

compared to the rest, Ichiji appreciates Crocus' sense of humor and finds him very humorous.

Ichiji is very touched by the story of Laboon and the pirates he's waiting for. like Sanji, he's realistic about the possible theory that the pirates might be dead.

he is, just like the others, very agitated and panics when Luffy decides to fight Laboon...and in his weird way, makes a promise to return.

log poses and two weirdos

after they gets to the surface, Nami notices that the two weirdos who tried to kill Laboon, Mr.9 and Miss Wednesday, are missing. Ichiji coldly says that he doesn't care what happened to them and they could get eaten by giant sea squids. Nami gives him a slap on the head for his tactless remark while Sanji laments to her that his older brother is a little petty and holds onto grudges too easily.

Ichiji is concerned when Nami panics about her compass malfunctioning when she draws plans for their Grand Line journey. when they got the explanation about log poses, the magnetism in the Grand Line, Ichiji remarks that he forgot something and pulls up a small leather book.

Sanji recognizes it and yells at him why he has it. Ichiji, with a small smirk, tells them that Zeff gave him his old logbook, which contains his detailed journey in the Grand Line. Sanji seethes a little, obviously jealous that Zeff trusted Ichiji with his prized logbook.

Ichiji instead asks Crocus if log poses was common to buy in the Grand Line and gets the bad news that they would be, unfortunately, stuck at Twin Capes since they can't travel without a log pose. then Luffy reveals having a log pose, the very one Mr.9 dropped.

Luffy and Sanji ends up accidently breaking it, though, and Ichiji takes this as a sign to return to the ship, not in the mood of dealing with his little brother and his silly romance antics.

later, then they're approached by Mr.9 and Miss Wednesday and being asked to travel to Whiskey Peak, Ichiji is against it since he doesn't trust people who just tried to kill their whale friend. his vote is vetoed, since Luffy decides to go to Whiskey Peak anyways and captain's word is law.

the straw hats, along with their new guests, sets sail for Whiskey Peak and Ichiji briefly wonders if their new destination has their namesake drink. Usopp wonders why, which Ichiji reveals it's his favorite drink.

Whiskey Peak, a town that welcomes pirates?

upon docking by Whiskey Peak, where they're greeted by a large crowd that seems to adore and welcome pirates, Ichiji is suspicious. he's grown up with a lot of pirate tales from the Baratie and he knows that people welcoming pirates is very rare.

he's visibly annoyed when Usopp, Luffy and Sanji instantly falls for the welcome. during the party in a tavern, Nami is easily lured into a drinking game for some prize money. Ichiji and Zoro bonds a little over their suspicions, being the only ones with rational mindsets. Zoro reveals to Ichiji, being on his 12th drink, that he actually likes Sanji but gets annoyed with his constant womanizing. he also tells that he finds a good friend in Ichiji. the latter appreciates his honesty.

Ichiji, still being suspicious of the overly warm welcome by the town, cooks up a plan in his head. he puts on an act and feigns a migraine, asking the "mayor" if there's a quiet place he can sleep. Ichiji "sleeps" in a smaller room, but takes his chance to quickly make a decoy doll (made up from sacks of potatoes ) and hides it under the bed he's borrowing. when he's being checked on, Ichiji is lying on the bed and pretends to sleep.

while his crew has seemingly collapsed by exhaustion, Ichiji takes his chance to place the decoy on the bed and sneak outside onto the rooftops to investigate his surroundings. he overhears the exchange between Zoro and the "townspeople" and realizes that they're in a bounty hunters' nest. he hides inside an empty house and as soon as a bounty hunter runs past, he ambushes him and steals the clothes and weapons, successfully infiltrating the bounty hunters.

revealing princess Vivi and fighting Mr.5 and Miss Valentine

Ichiji sneaks around and evades Zoro, deciding against joining the fight. he knows about Baroque Works and which high-ranking agents are here, but he feels that he's missing an important piece of the puzzle. he also puts his faith in Zoro and decides that his friend got this covered.

we find out that Ichiji has enhances senses, which is proven when he hears the entire reveal of Miss Wednesday's identity; princess Vivi of Alabasta and that the boss of Baroque Works, Mr.0, has ordered her eliminated.

he makes the decision to join the fight, but using the element of surprise to his advantage. when Vivi is cornered by Mr.5 and Miss Valentine, he surprises them by putting a bullet into one of Mr.5's hands.

Ichiji, standing on a high building, takes off a cowboy's hat and it landes by the agents' feet. he lets himself being revealed in the moonlight, introducing himself as Scarlet Ichiji of the Straw Hat Pirates and mocks Baroque Works at the same time.

"Oh, I thought I sensed a foul stence around here. I understand that your highly esteemed boss, Mr.0, sent you two here to this backwater island, just because he felt threatened by a princess finding out his dirty little secrets? How embarrassing. Mr.5 and Miss Valentine, how about you'll return to your boss with the shameful message that Scarlet Ichiji of the Straw Hat Pirates defeated you?"

Zoro, who just intercepted an "explosive booger" from Mr.5, smirks and remarks that now it's a fair fight, obviously happy that Ichiji is here and he made a badass entrance.

Luffy vs. Zoro and escaping Whiskey Peak

Zoro and Ichiji works together to fight their opponents, but they don't get very far when Luffy catches up to them and starts to fight Zoro, due to a misunderstanding

Ichiji is very annoyed by this and he now defends Vivi on his own, fighting Miss Valentine and Mr.5. the latter is still very furious at Ichiji for taking out one of his hands and Ichiji finds Miss Valentine extremely annoying, as her haughty laughter starts to trigger his temper.

the agents gets quickly taken down when Zoro and Luffy are irritated by their interference. Ichiji stays out of their fight and ensures that Vivi is safe. Luffy and Zoro are taken down by a pissed off Nami.

the four straw hats gets a fully explanation from Vivi regarding the state of Alabasta, the civil war, who pulls on the strings and the accidental reveal of the Mr.0; Crocodile, one of the seven warlords

Ichiji remarks that's he couldn't be less surprised about Luffy and Zoro's excited reactions and Nami's despair. things gets worse when the Unluckies discovers them and marks them as wanted. Ichiji takes this as a sign that they have no choice than to deliver Vivi to Alabasta and fight Crocodile.

Nami is especially upset at his lack of reaction and resigning himself to his fate. Ichiji simply smiles at her and tells her that a long time ago, he made a vow to never turn away anyone asking for help.

Igaram, formerly known as Mr.8 and the captain of the guard of Alabasta, plans a decoy to allow the straw hats to safely escape Whiskey Peak and deliver Vivi to Alabasta. Ichiji remarks that a decoy was risky, but he understands the importance of the mission. however, it goes horribly wrong when Igaram's ship is attacked and seemingly dies. the straw hats decides to take the chance to escape now.

Luffy fetches Sanji and Usopp and they all boards the Merry. Sanji and Usopp, being out of the loop, complains and Nami "sets them right".

Miss All Sunday and heading to Alabasta

not long after they've escaped and after both Sanji and Usopp got everything explaineed, they're unnerved by the surprise entrance of Mr.0's partner; Miss All Sunday (aka Nico Robin)

everyone aims their weapons at her, deeming her as a threat to Vivi. Ichiji, in a surprising twist, doesn't gear up for a fight. instead, he looks up at her with folded arms.

Miss All Sunday neutralizes them quicker than they can see. but she takes the chance to look down at Ichiji and asks why he wasn't prepared to attack unlike his captain and crew mates.

"Because you have something to say. Considering that you are partner to Mr.0, you could've had us killed before speaking up. My theory is that you're here for a reason."

the rest of the straw hats are surprised how quickly Ichiji figured it out. Sanji remarks in his mind that Ichiji is the brains between them; the strategist, always trying to figure out the big picture.

Miss All Sunday seems to be interested in Ichiji, both of them having a brief staring match (first Ichiji/Robin moment!) before she offers them an eternal pose that leads to a different, faster route to Alabasta or they take the longer route, where they might be attacked by more agents and reveals they'll head towards a place called Little Garden.

Luffy takes the decision in his head, though and crushes the eternal pose, saying that she doesn't make the decisions on his ship. Miss All Sunday takes her leave in a rather amiable way, saying that they'll meet again.

soon after she's left, Ichiji remarks "what a strange lady", vaguely impressed that she managed to get on their ship undetected. Sanji, swooning over the woman, asks if Ichiji agrees that Miss All Sunday might be a "mellorine" like Nami and Vivi. Ichiji only says a flat "no" before stalking off to the galley.

he opens up a large book with blank pages and starts to write about their recent adventure in Whiskey Peak, taking his duties as the archivist seriously.

(end. part 5)

(read part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4 here)

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise: 

This image would represent Sanji Fighting the Candies for the recipes.

A/N: Welcome guys! We are now on Chapter 7! This chapter is long! With both POVs from Sanji and Y/N, but there's also a few surprise guests at the end of the chapter.. Wink wink. As always thank you guys for following along! As always I have the chapters linked, chapter 8 will be worked on tonight! Now without further ado let's begin! 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Word Count: 7.3K

Sanji x Reader, Sanji X Y/N, One piece x reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 (Here) ,

Chapter 7: A Test of Will 

Y/N POV

"Y/N… I… I can't believe you saved me back there," Sam says, his voice shaky as you both return to the hospital quarters. You can tell the fight against the King is still fresh in his mind, just as it is in yours. The sheer power the King wielded was unlike anything you'd ever faced. The punch he delivered to your midsection had left you on the brink of unconsciousness—astonishing in its force.

"Sam," you grunt as he begins to examine your injuries, checking to see if any other parts of your body were affected. "Like I said back there, you helped me when I was injured. You and John both saved me from the brink of death." A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the moment, the fear of losing everything. You smirk and add, "We’re friends now."

"The King was impressed with your tenacity and fire, Y/N," John finally speaks up, glancing out the window where the moonlight spills into the room. Two days had passed since you arrived on this all-male island, and the lack of a boat to return to Sabaody and rejoin your crew weighs heavily on your mind.

"I wasn’t going to let some man undermine me, John," you reply, your tone sharp. "Besides, the ass had it coming." You wince as Sam tightens the bandages around your wounds, his hands gentle but firm.

"Still, no one has come close to rattling him like you did," Sam admits, a mix of admiration and concern in his voice.

You nod, then turn to John with a question that's been nagging at you. "I do have a question, John, if I may?"

John nods, gesturing for you to continue.

"How did the King manage to divide the floor in two with just a punch? It wasn’t just brute strength—there was something more to it," you ask, replaying the moment in your mind.

John sighs, looking thoughtful as he begins to explain. "It's the technological advancements we have on this island. The King ensures everyone is equipped to handle any enemy that might challenge us. That punch wasn’t just the result of his natural power—it was amplified by a device he wears."

"A device?" you echo, intrigued.

John nods, stepping closer to you. "It’s a ring. When the King clenches his fist, the ring activates, creating a glove that can be manipulated depending on what the wearer desires. For the King, it enhances his strength exponentially, allowing him to cause damage to the ground or any object he targets."

Your eyes widen as you process this information. "So it’s like a weapon disguised as jewelry?"

"Exactly," John confirms. "The ring channels the island's advanced technology, and in the King's case, it gives him the strength of ten men. It’s what allowed him to split the floor with that punch and what makes him so formidable in battle."

"That explains a lot," you mutter, your mind racing with the possibilities. "But still, a device like that… it's almost cheating."

John chuckles softly. "Perhaps, but on this island, survival is the ultimate goal. The King uses every tool at his disposal to ensure he remains in power."

You lean back, processing everything. "Then I’ll need to find a way to counter it if I ever face him again."

Sam and John exchange glances, concern etched on their faces. "Y/N, be careful. The King doesn’t take kindly to those who oppose him," John warns.

You smirk, feeling a surge of determination. "I’m not planning to go down that easily. If the King thinks he can intimidate me with some fancy ring, he’s got another thing coming."

Sam smiles weakly as he finishes bandaging your wounds. "Just… don’t push yourself too hard, Y/N."

"Don’t worry, Sam," you reply, your voice firm. "I’ve got too much to lose to let this island keep me down. Now, what’s the plan to get back to Sabaody?"

John and Sam exchange another look before John speaks. "We’ll help you, Y/N. But first, you need to rest. You’ll need all your strength for what’s to come."

You nod, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. "Alright, but don’t let me sleep too long. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner I can get back to my crew."

As you settle into the bed, your mind drifts back to the King and the power he wielded. You’re not just fighting for yourself—you’re fighting for your crew, for your captain, and for the promise you made to them all.

Sanji’s POV…

"How many times do I have to tell you! Give me a ship! I have a promise I have to keep!" I barked, frustration boiling over as I glared at the “Candies.” Two days had passed, and every second felt like an eternity. Time was slipping away, and I had already endured the humiliation of losing to the "Sub" Queen Charlotte. The memory of that defeat stung worse than any physical blow. "Damn it! There's no time for me to goof around with you guys anymore!"

Charlotte smirked, her condescending tone only adding fuel to the fire. "Try a little harder, Candy boy."

Her words grated on my nerves. "So what if it’s an excuse! I'll come right out and say it!" I snapped back, turning away from them with my arms crossed in a huff. "If I don’t see some pretty girls, I’m gonna die. In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t my scene."

Charlotte and her entourage of “Candies” giggled, clearly enjoying my outburst.

Just as I was about to storm off, one of the Candies gasped, her voice trembling with excitement. "Wait! Is that…?"

I turned around, curious despite myself. "It is! Queen Iva has arrived!" she squealed, and suddenly, the entire group—including Charlotte—was shaking with admiration, tears of joy flowing from their eyes like rivers.

"Hey, what gives? Compose yourselves!" I shouted, bewildered by their reaction. This was getting ridiculous. But as I followed their gaze, I spotted a figure descending from a boat, surrounded by an aura of authority and flamboyance.

"Why do we care?" I asked, still not understanding the sudden shift in their behavior.

Charlotte turned around, her eyes wide with awe. "She’s the ruler of all Kamabakka Kingdom! Queen Emporio Ivankov!"

"Wait a minute, Ivankov?" I said, the name ringing a bell in my mind. Without hesitation, I made my way toward the sea where the boat had now docked. "That's the queen I read about in the papers. Talk about good timing. She was traveling with Luffy—she’s gotta know something!"

As the heels clicked against the ground, I looked up, stunned, as Ivankov descended the steps from her boat. "Ahh, home at last," she said, her voice carrying an air of familiarity with the island.

"Woahh, what a body!" I blurted out, admiring the woman before me, sighing in awe. But then I shook my head, pressing down the doubts that started creeping in. "No, I can’t. She’s totally someone else under all that hotness; otherwise, she wouldn’t be on this island in the first place!"

Ivankov’s sultry voice cut through my thoughts. "Hmmm, hey there, you got a name?" she asked, her tone dripping with flirtation.

I tried to stand tall, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Is there anything I can do for you... Candy boy?" she continued, her voice adding more fuel to the fire inside me.

"Yeah, I got a lot of questions, buddy," I stammered, trying to regain my composure. "Actually, the first one is—are you single?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I was stunned. "I can't believe I even asked that question!" I muttered, a blush creeping across my face. In a low voice, I quickly added, "I mean, it's about Luffy."

Ivankov’s eyes sparkled with interest. "What, Luffy? The cutie with the straw hat?" she responded, her tone playful yet curious.

"Yeah, that’s the one," I confirmed, trying to shake off the embarrassment of my earlier blunder. 

"Listen, I read in the papers that you were busting heads with him at Marineford," I said, trying to keep my cool despite the chaos around me. "What a lucky bastard that Luffy. Anyway, you might know how he’s doing! So, you mind filling me in on that?" I knelt down dramatically, extending my hand toward Ivankov. "Baby."

She reached for my hand, but just then, her nails extended, and she punctured her body with them. "How about now?" Ivankov said in a low voice as her real, more masculine form began to emerge.

"Awww man, and I saw it coming from a mile away too! Screw you!" I shouted, annoyed at myself for falling for it. "Now, tell me, how do you know Strawboy?" Ivankov demanded.

"We’re shipmates," I replied, still irritated.

"You’re part of his crew?!" Ivankov exclaimed, pulling out all the wanted posters of our crew members, flashing them one by one. "So, Strawboy is your captain?"

"Yeah, so?" I answered, trying to stay calm.

"And so, you’re friends with Pirate Hunter Zoro?" Ivankov asked, narrowing her eyes.

"HELL NO!!" I shot back, the mere thought infuriating me.

"What about Cat Burglar Nami?"

"NAMI, MY SWEET!" I shouted, my tone changing instantly, full of adoration.

"And what about Warrior Y/N?" Ivankov asked, holding up her poster.

I froze, staring at the poster of Y/N. Memories flooded back—her smile, her spirit, everything about her that made her special. I remembered the day she got her first wanted poster like it was yesterday.

Flashback

"You guys!" Y/N said, grinning and jumping up and down with excitement. I couldn’t help but smile back at her. Her expression, her smile—too beautiful to even put into words. That was one of the things I loved about her. Besides being a strong warrior and pirate, she carried herself with so much love and light.

"Check this out!" She pulled me out of my daze, waving her wanted poster in front of me. "It’s my wanted poster! They really need to get a better picture of me, though. Hey, Nami, mind telling me who took your picture? I need an updated one ‘cause this isn’t it." She laughed, her voice like music to my ears. Her bounty had gone from the original 20,000,000 to 50,000,000.

"What do you think, Sanji? How cool is this?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with pride.

I was lost in thought, still mesmerized by her.

"Hello? Candy boy?" Ivankov’s voice snapped me back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Ivankov held up another wanted poster. "So, this must be your wanted poster then?"

"FUCK NO! That hideous drawing is nothing like me!" I yelled, now enraged. 

Ivankov started pounding the images with her fists. "You’re not in any of these wanted posters, so you must be a fraud! How do I know your relation with Strawboy then?"

I slammed my fist on the newspaper she held. "What do I do to convince you? I already told you I am!" I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Tell me what you know about Luffy now! Listen, the paper said you were there with him! So you must know what happened!"

Ivankov raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "So you admit this is you, then?"

"No, IT'S NOT!" I protested, falling to my knees in frustration. "I mean, kind of, but..." Bowing my head, gritting my teeth, I finally gave in. "I'm Sanji, but..." I choked and coughed, blood rising in my throat from the stress of the situation. "My, this seems like a problem area for you, doesn't it?" Ivankov said, clearly enjoying my torment.

Struggling, I finally admitted, "Yes, it's me. That hideous wanted poster drawing is me!"

Ivankov held up my wanted poster beside my face, scrutinizing it. "Sorry, but no match," she teased.

"BUT YOU STILL MADE ME SAY IT! I WAS FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE BACK THERE!" I shouted, furious that she forced me to admit it, only to mock me.

"Fine! I'll start swimming!" I turned around, ready to jump into the sea.

Ivankov gasped, clearly taken aback by my determination. "What dedication! You were telling the truth when you said you were a member of the Strawhat crew. I'll tell you everything I know about Strawboy, then."

"Finally," I said, smiling in relief.

"OR MAYBE NOT!" Ivankov suddenly exclaimed, and the candy men on the island burst into cheers, praising her cleverness.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath, my patience wearing thin. "Hey, Iva, since I'm a pirate, I've decided I'm gonna take your ship." I looked at her with fierce determination. "I challenge you to a duel!"

Y/N POV…

"Hey… Y/N, wake up." A soft hand shook me gently. Groaning, I turned my body, instinctively grabbing the object close, cuddling it. "Five more minutes, please," I whined, my voice muffled by sleep. Sam hesitated at first but then decided to let me cuddle him, his body stiffening slightly before relaxing into my embrace. His warmth sparked something inside him, and as he looked down, he smiled softly and pecked my forehead, enjoying the rare moment of closeness, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Suddenly, John barged in, his footsteps quick and urgent. "Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!" he called out, turning on the lights without warning. The abrupt brightness made me groan again, and as I turned, trying to get up, I was met with something hard. Blinking, I adjusted my eyes and saw Sam cuddled next to me, his hands securely on my waist. My face flushed as I realized the intimacy behind the act, and I scrambled to get up, causing Sam to tumble off the bed.

"Whoa, sorry, Sam!" I stammered, embarrassed, trying to help him up but failing to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks.

John, either oblivious or too focused on the news, hurriedly handed me a newspaper. "Y/N, I bring today’s newspaper! It appears something happened to your captain, Luffy!" he exclaimed.

"What?!" My heart raced as I scrambled to my feet, yanking the paper from John’s hands. My eyes widened as I saw Luffy’s face plastered on the front page. "Luffy, what the hell is going on?" I murmured, frantically reading through the article, my mind swirling with worry.

Just as I was about to ask John more questions, two soldiers entered unannounced, their presence commanding immediate attention. Between them stood the King, his regal aura undeniable.

"Ahh, I see you are awake," the King said, his voice calm yet authoritative.

I quickly composed myself, standing tall despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. "Your Majesty," I greeted, trying to mask my concern for Luffy with a respectful tone. "What brings you here?"

The King’s eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and intrigue as he replied, "I know who you are—Y/L/N, Y/N. You're part of the Straw Hat crew!"

My heart skipped a beat, but I stood firm. "Yes, I am. So what of it?"

The King chuckled, clearly entertained by my defiance. "I’m quite impressed. News traveled fast about what occurred in Sabaody, but I just couldn’t believe it was your crew that caused such a ruckus."

"We did it to save our friends," I said through gritted teeth, my mind still reeling as I glanced down at the newspaper, trying to piece together why Luffy had gone back to Marineford. The King noticed my focus on the paper and took a step forward.

"You’d like to know more about your captain, correct?" he said, his voice silky smooth. Sam and John immediately moved to shield me, but I pushed them aside, stepping forward to face the King head-on.

"What do you know about him?" I demanded, my voice unwavering despite the tension in the air.

The King smirked, leaning in closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Why don’t you come back to my quarters, and I’ll tell you everything I know," he whispered, his breath brushing against my ear as he slowly pushed my hair back, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against my neck as he added, "And come alone, if you will."

I stood tall, placing my hands on his chest and pushing him back slightly with a seductive smile. "At what time does Your Majesty request my presence?" I asked, my voice dripping with an allure that matched his own.

"Come by around 3 p.m.," he responded, his gaze lingering on me. "Don’t keep me waiting." With that, he turned and left the room, his soldiers following closely behind.

As soon as the door closed, Sam burst out, "You seriously aren’t considering it, right?!"

Jealousy flickered in his eyes, and I could see the concern in John’s expression as well. I sighed, knowing what had to be done. "I have no choice," I said, my voice steady. "But I’m not going in alone."

Both Sam and John looked at me, their confusion evident.

I smirked, a plan already forming in my mind. "Let’s give him an evening he’ll never forget," I said, my voice full of determination.

They leaned in, listening intently as I began to detail the plan, ensuring that this meeting would be on my terms, not his.

Sanji POV…

Grunting and panting, I felt the exhaustion settle in. "How is Iva so strong?!" I muttered to myself. The fight had barely started, and it was already proving to be a monumental challenge.

"Diable Jambe, Première Hachis!" I shouted, launching myself at Ivankov. My attack was blocked effortlessly, and before I knew it, I was back where I started, disoriented and struggling to regain my footing.

Ivankov, maintaining a calm demeanor, remarked, "You appear to be a sturdy fellow, but you could benefit from some discipline." With that, Ivankov moved in with fluid grace, launching a series of attacks. "Newkama Kenpo—44—Aesthetic Technique! Hair Removal Fist."

Each precise strike landed with crushing force, leaving me reeling. "Death Wink, Hell Wink, and Galaxy Wink!" Ivankov announced, each technique more powerful than the last, overwhelming me with their intensity. The final blow came, and the bell rang, signaling the end of the match. The winner was clearly Ivankov.

I lay on the ground, gasping for air, my energy spent. Ivankov walked over, a look of satisfaction on their face. "Very well, Mr. Curly Brows, I'll give you an update on Strawboy."

Confused and struggling to recover, I croaked, "So what made you change your mind all of a sudden?"

Ivankov smirked and tossed today’s newspaper in front of me. "Oh, please, there's no need to hide what the whole world already knows."

I flipped through the pages, my heart pounding as I searched for the headline. My eyes widened as I saw Luffy's face plastered on the front page—he was back in Marineford. "LUFFY, WHAT THE HELL?!" I shouted, my frustration and worry clear in my voice. 

Y/N POV…

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you glanced at John and Sam. They both wore expressions of concern mixed with resolve, a reflection of your own emotions. "Alright, everyone knows the plan, right?" you asked, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty you felt.

John gave a nod. "Yeah, Y/N. We’re ready."

Sam hesitated, his gaze lingering on the outfit you wore—a reminder of the gravity of the situation. "You sure about this, Y/N? There’s gotta be another way."

You looked down at the outfit, your reflection showing a dangerous elegance. The dress, with its high slit and form-fitting design, hugged every curve while the bandages concealed the blade hidden within. Your hair was pulled back neatly, and the red lipstick added a bold touch. The heels elevated your stance, giving you an added edge. Instead of responding directly to Sam, you checked the newspaper one last time. Your eyes widened when you noticed Luffy’s left arm, which had a cryptic message: “3 D with an X over it” and “2 Y” written on it.

A smirk played on your lips. "Alright, Captain, if this is what you want, you can count on me."

John’s voice broke through your thoughts. "We’ve arrived, Y/N."

You turned to them, giving a reassuring smile. "Remember to stay in your stations and keep an eye out. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll handle the rest."

With that, you turned back to the grand entrance of the king’s quarters. The soldiers opened the gates with a ceremonious flourish, and you stepped through, taking a moment to appreciate the opulence of the space before you.

As you walked down the hall, your curiosity was piqued by the elaborate displays. Each section featured a glass case with various weapons and artifacts, their names proudly displayed beneath. You couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on each one, taking in the intricate designs and the history they represented.

Inner dialogue: "So this is the king’s quarters… It’s impressive, but I can’t get distracted. 

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the hall, "Ahh, if it isn’t my guest of the evening, Y/N." The king’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous undertone. He approached you, a predatory smile on his lips. "Might I add you look rather ravishing today." He reached out and grabbed your hand, placing a kiss on it. You fought the urge to pull away, instead biting back your annoyance and forcing a smile.

"Your majesty," you began, trying to sound casual, "I couldn’t help but notice your impressive collection of weaponry. Might I ask why you’ve put them on display like this?"

The king’s smile faded slightly, and he repositioned himself, his eyes narrowing. "Why don’t I offer you a glass of wine first?" he suggested. "Then we can discuss it further."

He escorted you to the dining hall, where a grand chandelier hung above, casting a warm glow on the room. Soldiers were stationed at every exit, their eyes following your every move.

 Inner dialogue: "He’s thought of every little detail, hasn’t he? There’s no way out without a fight."

The king pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down, maintaining your composure. He then took the seat next to you, much closer than you would have liked, the tension in the air thickening. He poured a glass of wine for each of you, handing you one. "To Y/N," he toasted, his smirk returning. "May tonight be an evening to never forget."

You smiled back, clinking your glass with his, but only pretended to take a sip. "Your majesty," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, "mind telling me what you know about my captain?" You held his gaze, doing your best to appear confident, while subtly trying to seduce him for the information you needed.

The king chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I suppose so," he said. But just as you thought he might start talking, a soldier from the far right lunged at you. Reacting quickly, you threw your wine at him, blocking his attack and knocking him off balance.

In a flash, you were on your feet, taking down the soldiers one by one with precise strikes, your concealed blade flashing in the dim light. The king stood up, clapping slowly as the last soldier fell. "Bravo," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and menace. "You never fail to amaze me."

You pulled out your blade, ready to strike, but before you could make a move, the king lifted his hands as if to surrender. Just as you hesitated, an electrical charge surged through your body, causing you to collapse to the floor, paralyzed. The king crouched down beside you, grabbing your face with a cruel smile. "Did you really think I’d just hand over information about your beloved captain? Ha!"

He slammed you harshly into the ground, pain radiating through your body. You tried to signal to Sam and John, but the king laughed. "Don’t bother. The windows are protected. Nothing can get past these walls."

Your breath quickened as you struggled to get up, but you soon realized Sam and John had been captured, their arms bound as they were forced to their knees. "Wait!" you gasped, struggling to hold yourself up as the king approached you with a knife pressed against your throat. He grabbed both your wrists with his other hand, binding you in place.

Gritting your teeth, you seethed, "Let them go. I’d rather die than see them harmed."

The king, not used to being defied, slammed your face into the table, and you fell back in pain. "Y/N!!" Sam yelled, trying to break free to help you.

The king ordered his soldiers to dispose of you, but as they moved to obey, you grabbed the king’s ankle, stopping them in their tracks. "Wait!" you breathed out, struggling to keep your head up. "I didn’t come here to fight… I came to ask if I can train with you and on your island."

The king raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. "Train with me? And why should I consider that?"

You forced yourself to speak through the pain, "If I’m going to protect my captain, if I’m going to be a warrior worthy of standing by his side, I need to get stronger. I need your training and your weaponry."

The king’s eyes narrowed, assessing you. After a moment, he spoke, "Training with me isn’t easy. Neither I nor my soldiers will go easy on you. You’ll endure more pain than you can imagine."

You nodded, determination in your eyes. "I understand. I’m ready for whatever it takes."

A slow smirk spread across the king’s face. "Very well. But under one condition—you will stay with me in the quarters. No exceptions."

Your breath hitched, and Sam looked at you with wide eyes. "Like hell she will—"

"I accept," you cut him off, your voice firm.

"What?!" Sam exclaimed, disbelief etched on his face.

"I accept," you repeated, your gaze locked on the king. "But only if you agree to make me stronger and allow me access to your weaponry."

The king crouched before you, his gaze shifting from your lips to your eyes. "You, my dear… have a deal." He sealed the agreement with a kiss, his lips pressing hard against yours before he knocked you down with a forceful push. "Training starts bright and early tomorrow," he announced before turning on his heel, leaving the room with his soldiers in tow.

Sam and John rushed to your side, concern written all over their faces. "Y/N, what did you agree to?" Sam asked, his voice trembling.

Gasping, you looked up at Sam and managed a weak smile. "In order for me to be a strong warrior for my captain, to protect him from every threat… I must get stronger." You coughed, the effort of speaking draining you. "When he sees me again after two years… I’ll be an even stronger warrior… and pirate… fit for the King of the Pirates!"

As the last of your strength left you, you collapsed into Sam’s arms, your injuries overwhelming you. Sam began to shake you gently, trying to keep you conscious. "Y/N, stay with me!"

Before you could respond, the king reappeared in the doorway, his presence commanding the room. "Oh, and before I forget," he said with a smirk, "you two will tend to her wounds and prepare yourselves as well. I won’t show mercy to any of you."

With those words, the king left, leaving you to realize that tonight truly was an evening you would never forget.

Sanji POV…

As I continued to examine the paper, the trees around me providing just enough shade, a smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Luffy's message was clear as day. "Roger that, Captain," I muttered under my breath, lowering the paper with a sense of purpose.

Ivankov, who had been observing me closely, raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What’s that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "Something interesting in the paper?"

I folded the paper and looked up at her, the smirk still firmly in place. "Just a little something that only a member of the crew would understand. Top secret, you know?"

Ivankov's curiosity deepened, her eyes narrowing. "Top secret, huh? Are you going to keep me in suspense?"

With a chuckle, I pushed myself off the tree, beginning to walk alongside her towards the castle. "Sorry, but it's crew business. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it."

Once we reached the dining room, a lavish meal awaited me, complete with a glass of wine. Ivankov watched me closely, still trying to piece things together. "You must have seen something in that paper. Mind sharing what it is?"

I took a sip of the wine, savoring the rich flavor before answering, "Like I said, it's top secret. But I’ll tell you this much—my Captain has a plan, and I’m all in."

Ivankov leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "So, what’s the plan?"

I couldn’t help but grin, enjoying the game. "Sorry, that’s classified. Only those who are truly part of the crew would get it."

Ivankov huffed, folding her arms. "You’re really going to keep me in the dark, huh? Fine, but don’t think you can tease me forever."

As I continued to eat, I noticed something different. My body felt… stronger, more energized. Each bite seemed to enhance my senses, sharpening my mind. I looked at the food on my plate, then back at Ivankov. "This food… what’s in it? It’s… different."

Ivankov's face lit up with pride. "Ah, you’ve noticed! That’s the power of Attack Cuisine. It’s a special recipe that enhances your body’s capabilities—makes you stronger, faster, more resilient. It’s the food of warriors!"

“Attack Cuisine?” I said, thinking to myself, this can help my crew, and even a little more a subtle blush creeps up as I think of all the ways this meal can make Y/N, Robin and Nami sexier than ever. "Teach me this recipe, Ivankov. I need to learn it."

Ivankov’s expression turned serious, shaking her head. "Sorry, but it’s not that simple. Attack Cuisine isn’t something you can just learn. You have to earn it."

I leaned forward, determination clear in my eyes. "Then tell me what I need to do to earn it."

Ivankov smiled, clearly impressed by my resolve. "Alright, I’ll make you a deal. If you can defeat the 99 masters of New Kama Kenpo, I’ll teach you the recipes for Attack Cuisine. 

My eyes widened at the challenge Ivankov laid before me. But as the initial shock wore off, a smirk tugged at my lips. The thought of what lay ahead was daunting, but it also excited me. "When this is all over," I thought to myself, "and I defeat those 99 masters, I'll become stronger than ever. I’ll become the world’s greatest chef, making meals fit for the King of the Pirates!"

With that resolve burning in my chest, I pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced flick of my lighter. The familiar taste of smoke filled my lungs, and I exhaled slowly, letting the tension melt away. "Alright, let’s do this," I muttered to myself, determination coursing through me.

Ivankov led me to the training grounds, a sprawling arena where the first of the 99 masters awaited. 

She took a step forward, her smirk widening. "You ready, candy boy?" she taunted, her voice dripping with challenge.

I rolled my shoulders, loosening up and preparing for the fight ahead. "Born ready," I replied, the smirk never leaving my face. The cigarette hung lazily from my lips, a symbol of my calm in the face of the storm.

Meanwhile… Back in Sabaody and in the New World. Word got out of what Luffy did in Marineford. 

Sabaody… 

Trafalgar Law POV…

Trafalgar Law lay resting against Bepo, who was peacefully napping beside him. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of activity from Sabaody were the only sounds filling the air, creating a serene atmosphere. But that serenity was abruptly broken by the voices of his crew.

"What?? You don’t want to leave yet?" One of the Heart Pirates blurted out, his frustration evident. Penguin, unable to sit still, was pacing back and forth. "Let’s go to the New World! We’ve been sitting around here doing nothing! What are we waiting for?"

Law remained calm, his eyes half-lidded as he lazily watched Penguin. His cool demeanor never wavered. "Like I said, we’ll leave when it’s time. Have some patience. The One Piece isn’t going anywhere," he replied, his tone steady and authoritative.

"But Captain, Blackbeard's already taking down pirates to reach the One Piece first!" another crew member chimed in, a note of urgency in his voice.

"Yeah, and a bunch of rookies are heading over there to take Whitebeard’s place as an Emperor," added Shachi, his concern evident as he glanced at Law.

Law smirked, tilting his head slightly as he continued to rest against Bepo. "We’re better off letting them eliminate each other before we get there," he said, a calculating edge to his voice. "That’ll thin out the competition, don’t you think?"

The crew exchanged glances, knowing their captain’s strategic mind was always thinking several steps ahead. But Penguin, never one to pass up an opportunity for mischief, couldn’t resist teasing. He leaned closer to Law, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Are you sure it’s not also to catch a glimpse of Y/N?" he asked, his tone dripping with playful insinuation.

Law, usually so composed, visibly tensed. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, betraying his emotions. "Don’t be ridiculous," he muttered, trying to keep his cool, but his voice betrayed him with a slight stammer.

"Oh, come on, Captain," Shachi joined in, grinning widely. "We all saw how you looked at Y/N before we left. You sure you’re not just hoping for another chance encounter?"

Penguin, still chuckling, added, "Don’t worry, Captain. We’ll be sure to give you some privacy when we run into Y/N again."

Before anyone could say more, Bepo, still deep in his nap, began to mumble, "I also have Y/N’s number…"

Law’s eyes widened in disbelief as he turned to stare at Bepo, who remained blissfully unaware in his sleep.

Penguin and Shachi both froze for a moment before they erupted. "What?!" they shouted in unison, glaring at Bepo. "You just decided to tell the Captain now?!"

Bepo’s ears twitched as he sleep-talked again, "S-Sorry…"

Penguin and Shachi threw their hands up in exasperation. "Don’t apologize while you’re sleeping!" they yelled, half-annoyed, half-amused.

The crew’s teasing atmosphere was momentarily disrupted, but as the laughter faded, Law’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He couldn’t help but wonder what Y/N was up to now and when their paths would cross again. But for now, he had to maintain his composure—especially with his crew watching his every move. 

Somewhere in the New World… 

Captain Kidd stood at the helm of his ship, a newspaper clenched in his gloved hand. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips curled into a sneer as he scanned the bold headline.

"Strawhat Luffy… turns out the bastard’s still alive!" Kidd growled, the newspaper crinkling under his grip. "Rang the bell 16 times in Marineford… blah, blah, blah, so what the hell does this mean?" He looked up, his gaze sharp as he turned to his crew.

Killer, standing nearby, adjusted his mask before speaking up. "The 16 bells have a symbolic meaning, Captain. It’s a declaration of a new era. The end of one and the beginning of another."

Kidd scoffed, tossing the newspaper onto a nearby crate. "He comes out of Marineford pretty cocky, thinking he’s hot shit. Whitebeard’s era is already gone, and now he thinks he’s in charge of the next one?" Kidd’s voice dripped with disdain. "His bounty’s going up, and it’s only going to keep rising if he keeps pulling stunts like this."

He turned away from his crew, his mind clearly on something else, or rather, someone else. "Any news on my fiancée, Y/N?" Kidd asked, his tone almost casual, but there was a possessive edge to his words.

Killer, not missing a beat, quickly chimed in. "Captain, she hasn’t accepted yet. Besides, I’ve got my eyes set on her too." His voice was cool, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

Kidd’s gaze snapped back to Killer, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "She’ll agree, Killer. Even if I have to kidnap her to make her see reason," Kidd declared, his voice firm. The intensity in his tone left no room for doubt.

Killer tilted his head slightly, not backing down. "And what makes you so sure, Kidd? Y/N’s not someone who can be easily controlled, you know that. She’s got fire, and it’s that fire that draws us both to her."

Kidd smirked, a twisted sense of admiration in his expression. "Exactly. That fire is what makes her perfect. She’s not just some woman; she’s the only one who could keep up with me. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on her…"

Flashback…

The bustling streets of Sabaody Archipelago were always filled with chaos and intrigue, a perfect breeding ground for pirates looking to make a name for themselves. It was here, in the heart of the lawless zone, that Kidd first caught sight of her—not in person, but on a wanted poster plastered against a weathered wall.

Kidd had been walking through Grove 20, eyes scanning the numerous bounty posters lining the street. Some caught his interest briefly, but nothing that truly stood out—until he saw yours. The image was slightly weathered, but the intensity in your eyes was unmistakable. The name underneath read Y/L/N, Y/N, with a bounty that was impressive for someone who wasn’t a captain (115,000,000). Your face, fierce and determined, piqued his curiosity instantly.

"Who the hell is this?" Kidd muttered under his breath, ripping the poster off the wall to get a better look. There was something about you, even in that static image, that intrigued him. A fire in your eyes, a promise of trouble, and a challenge—everything Kidd was drawn to.

He stuffed the poster into his coat, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I’ve gotta meet this woman," he thought to himself, already feeling the thrill of the chase. The poster didn’t do you justice; he needed to see you in action.

The opportunity came sooner than he expected. At the Human Auction House, Kidd had initially come for the spectacle, expecting to see the usual array of unfortunate souls. But when his eyes landed on you, standing on stage next to a mermaid, his world shifted. Your outfit, meant to highlight you as a prize, did nothing to disguise the raw strength and spirit radiating from you. His gaze lingered on the bruises marring your skin—evidence of your fight and resistance. The sight stirred something primal in him, a mix of anger and fierce protectiveness. The thought of you being paraded around like a trophy, shackled and vulnerable, ignited a burning desire within him.

When the auction began and you removed your chains, Kidd watched in awe as you fought back with a small blade, taking down Disco with precision and grit. The way you moved, the fire in your eyes, it was more than just talk and bravado. It was action, power, and defiance, and Kidd found himself captivated. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of admiration and a fierce, possessive urge.

When the cook from your crew, Sanji, rushed onto the stage to free you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close, Kidd’s initial reaction was a surge of rage and jealousy. He watched, fists clenched, as the scene unfolded. But when you were pushed towards Kidd, his control was tested. The closeness, the heat of your body against his—it took everything in him to restrain his instincts.

As you stumbled towards him, Kidd’s eyes darkened with a hunger that went beyond mere attraction. The sight of your disheveled state, the way you clung to Sanji and then to him, stoked a fierce, carnal desire within him. His mind was consumed with thoughts of claiming you, of feeling your body pressed against his in a way that spoke of raw, unfiltered need.

In a moment of primal intensity, Kidd’s gaze locked onto you as he leaned in, his tongue grazing your delicate skin. The touch was deliberate, teasing, and when you let out an involuntary moan, it fueled his desires even further. The soft, warm skin beneath his lips was intoxicating, each tremor of your body sending waves of pleasure through him. The warmth of your breath, the softness of your flesh, the vulnerability of your position—all combined to create a heady mix of lust and longing.

Kidd’s control was slipping, his thoughts dark and obsessive. He imagined pulling you close, feeling every curve of your body pressed against his, his hands roaming with a possessive grip. The thought of claiming you, of making you his in every sense, consumed him. He wanted to feel your skin against his, to taste every inch of you, and to dominate you in a way that left no room for doubt.

The fire in your eyes had ignited a blaze in his heart, one that burned with a fierce, unrestrained passion. In that moment, Kidd knew he would stop at nothing to possess you, not just as a trophy but as a partner in his most intimate desires. The need to have you, to make you his, was now an all-encompassing obsession.

Back to the present…

Kidd’s smirk widened as he recalled that moment, his gaze faraway yet intense. "She’s mine, Killer. She just doesn’t know it yet."

Killer, arms crossed and eyes hidden behind his mask, shifted his stance. The air between them was charged with unspoken tension. "You’re not the only one who sees her worth, Kidd. But if you think I’m just going to step aside, you’re mistaken. I’m just as determined to make her mine."

Kidd’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of challenge in his gaze. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "Then it looks like we’ve got ourselves a little competition, don’t we?"

Killer’s tone was equally resolute, though his masked face revealed nothing. "Looks like it."

The two men stood in a silent stand-off, the weight of their rivalry hanging heavily in the air. Each knew the stakes of this competition were high, but neither was willing to concede. Y/N had become the center of a storm—a storm driven by the fierce desires of two of the New World’s most formidable pirates.

Kidd���s smirk remained, a dangerous promise of what was to come. "Let’s see who she chooses, then."

Killer’s eyes, though hidden, seemed to bore into Kidd with equal intensity. "Indeed. May the best man win."

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, the rivalry between the two men palpable. As they stood their ground, the realization set in that Y/N was about to become the focal point of their ruthless competition. Neither would relent, and both were prepared to do whatever it took to claim her, making their contest a matter of both pride and possession.

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..Finally! Now, both Sanji and Y/N will start their training! Sanji’s flashback moment, my heart!!! had to add law, kidd, and killer back. I just love them. Also it adds to the plot lmfaooo. For the next chapter I will be bringing the crew back as the 2 years have finally arrived. We head back to Sabaody. There's going to be flashback scenes here. Along with a few guests coming in. I think for chapter 9-10 I will skip fishman island and add a few key notes for our beloved crew as well as a key moment that will shift both Sanji and Y/N. You guys don't want to miss this, cause we will be heading to punk hazard. Thank you guys for liking as well as following the blogs! Thank you for reblogging!. Chapter 8 is being worked on now as we speak!