#but his monkey is still alive for some reason?

[raining13]

oh yeah. i dont know if i ever released my Jungle Cruise Skipper OC out into the wild. anyhow. this is Josephine "Jo" Mystic and they brought this monkey with them on the boat. nothing could go wrong

[kyri45]

HIIIIII!!! Read through your entire shadowpeach parents au in a day and I'm OBSESSED!!! The latest comics with Red Son and MK were gorgeous, tbh I think the song Fantastic by King Princess is a perfect match for those scenes!

I had a kinda (actually make that very) stressful day so would you have any cute/fluffy headcanons about spicynoodles? Or hints about what to expect in the future? If not no worries I'll read the comic for the tenth time lol

Thx! <3

I was born for this moment *clear throat*, I can't say too much but since this comic wont divulge too much on spicynoodle after the end I might as well.

MK will climb that man whenever he can, even when he's working on a project you can bet your ass he will be clinging on his back like his life depends on him.

Red Son still has some self awareness over his true form and MK is just there everytime to remind him he's beautiful.

Red Son is typically the one who would go on to even write poetries for MK, or start an absurdly long list of complex compliments for him to get flustered and embarassed for. In the meantime MK just needs to call him "cute" and Red Son.exe will stop working.

Red Son tends to work all night someday but you better bet his monkey bf will force him to bed (MK lifting a 6 feet bull boy like he's a bag of chips is an image that have been haunted me for weeks)

The entire fortress knows these two bitches are together, everyone would open the door for MK and guide him to Red Son door, but the fucker will always, ALWAYS, just sneak inside to Red Son room just to give him surprises kissed while he almost burn him alive from the jumpscare.

During winter MK is even MORE clingly bc the man is just a fucking living furnace

N°1 reason why Mamacaque approved him was bc he knew his son would never be cold again

N°1 reason why Wukong DIDN'T approve of him at first was because he was afraid he would accidentally burn MK.

[bitethedevil]

The Science of Why Raphael Won’t Get Tf Out of My Head

It’s your local doctor in cambion physiology here. I’m going to take you through my theory about why Raphael is stuck in our heads. It’s all based on Science™, of course. Some of these carefully studied theories are dependent on the fact that you are the owner of a uterus. If you aren’t, then idk. I can’t help you. You’re a medical anomaly. It’ll all make sense in a moment, don’t worry about it.

There are a couple of things that I believe are necessary for prolonged focus on a specific character (Source: The Devil, Bite. 2024: Pulled it out of my ass):

Attraction: It helps if said character is hot.

Versatility: I’ll explain later.

A feeling of being able to relate to said character

Attraction

There’s this theory about how women’s attraction to men changes in accordance with their menstrual cycles (source and source). Basically the study says that when a woman is at her most fertile, she prefers more traditionally masculine looking men. However, the rest of her cycle she might prefer men who lean more towards the feminine (both in general qualities and physical attributes).

The whole point of this, is that at ones most fertile, it’s full on monkey brain genetics going “he looks strong and male, so he’ll make good offspring”, while for the rest of the time, it’s more attractive to find someone who actually has good partnership potential. Someone who is reliable and caretaking, and who would be stable in a longer relationship.

I suppose you could sum it up to one being a more romantic attraction while the other is more of a primal and carnal attraction.

Now I want you too look at this very educational graph that I used a couple of minutes to slap together:

Basically, my argument is that though Raphael is not stable or caretaking in any form, the difference between the two forms still visually fits into the two respective categories. His human form for the rest of the cycle, and his cambion form (the ascended form too if you’re freaky, I guess) that seems more traditionally masculine when fertility is highest.

That means that you can look at his dumb face throughout your whole cycle, but might feel a shift in which one you find more attractive (if all this science stuff is correct).

Even if the science behind all of this is bullshit, I still believe that different forms help when it comes to not getting tired of looking at someone.

Versatility

I’m just going to say it, even though my heart might disagree: Raphael would not have the effect he has if he was a more explored character with more screentime in canon. We would all love more Raphael, but I really think the reason for his longevity in our minds is that he is still somewhat mysterious.

Which parts are actually him and which parts are performance? What is he like behind closed doors? How much devil and how much man is he? We don’t really know. We have been given puzzle pieces, but there’s still a loooot of space free for interpretation, which is honestly what makes him great.

It’s been said before in this little corner of the internet: there are so many versions of Raphael, and the great thing is that people are never fighting over which Raphael is the “right” one. Some prefer Soft!Raphael, while others prefer Dark!Raphael. The versatility of his character’s representation allows for that, which I know at least has kept me interested for a long time when it comes to writing him.

Being able to relate

In much the same vein as above, people find different ways to relate to him. The thing on top of that is the feeling that we shouldn’t be able to relate to someone like him, which adds a certain level of taboo to it which is interesting.

He is both the smoothest mf alive and the biggest cringefail loser behind closed doors. He’s obsessive, weird, and too fucking much to be near for a longer period of time. He writes his contracts as songs because he likes ‘whimsy’. He’s got daddy issues and makes that everyone’s problem. There’s a lot to him that someone would at least be able to relate to at some level.

In conclusion

He is without a doubt the character I have hyperfixated on for the longest time, and I know it’s the same for a few others. I genuinely believe it’s because there is so much to him. If you get tired of one aspect of him, there are always other aspects of him to focus on, both physically and psychologically, instead.

And there is some variation to the attraction that I atleast can feel myself. If I have written a lot of darker stuff about him for a while, I get the urge to write something softer, and the cool thing is that you can do that and it still makes sense with the character. My preference for his forms vary often too.

Even when I tried to focus on other characters, I found myself returning to Raphael, because those other characters were often too fleshed out canon-wise. It quickly bores me because then there is a limit to what you can do with them.

There is a lot to Raphael and he’s like a glob of clay. You can mold him into whatever you like.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[2b4st4r]

Hi how are you ^_^?? Couldn’t stop thinking about Knight Rob Lucci x Princess reader where reader is wondering why no prince/man approaches her without knowing Lucci just gets rid of them (not necessarily killing lol) out of jealousy. Maybe some love confessions between the two later on?

The Princess and Her Shadow

Rob lucci x reader

words: 3,156

warnings: female reader, emotional manipulation/gaslighting, implied control over one’s life, isolation, grief, stalking and obsessive behavior.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

 The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the Grand Line sky in hues of fiery orange and soft violet. You, Princess Y/n, stood on the royal balcony, the salty breeze gently tangling your hair. Your beauty was undeniable, a fact whispered in every port and sung in every sea shanty. Kind eyes, a gentle smile, and a spirit as bright as the morning sun – you were the epitome of royalty, a dream for any suitor. With countless followers and a heart open to love, surely you'd find your prince, your king, your eternal partner.

But you wouldn't. No prince, no man, dared to approach you with romantic intent. The reason was a shadow that had clung to you since your teenage years. You still remembered the Royal Ball, the air thick with music and laughter. A young man, Monkey D. Luffy, with a grin as wide as the ocean and eyes that sparkled with adventure, had approached you. "Hey, wanna dance?" he'd asked, his hand outstretched. You’d giggled, a blush rising on your cheeks, and taken it. For weeks, you and Luffy were inseparable. He’d sneak you out of the palace, showing you hidden coves and sharing silly stories under the moonlight. You’d never felt so alive, so free. You thought, hoped, this was it. This was your beginning.

Then, he was gone. Vanished without a trace, as if the sea itself had swallowed him whole.

The tears had come in waves, a grief so profound it felt like a physical ache. You remembered collapsing onto your ornate bed, the silk sheets damp with your sorrow. A knock at your door, soft and familiar. Robby. He was always there. Your best friend, Rob Lucci, entered, his usual stoic expression softened with concern. He didn’t say much, just sat on the edge of your bed and pulled you into his strong embrace. You sobled into his shoulder, his presence a comforting anchor in your storm of despair. He stroked your hair, a quiet, almost possessive gesture. "He wasn't good enough for you, Y/n," he'd murmured, his voice a low rumble. "You deserve so much more than someone who would simply disappear." His words were a balm, soothing the raw edges of your heartbreak, yet a subtle shiver ran down your spine. Even then, something about his unwavering presence, his immediate dismissal of Luffy, felt a little too… absolute. Too convenient. Like a puzzle piece fitting into a carefully constructed whole.

The disappearances didn't stop with Luffy. Any prince, any dignitary, any young man who dared to show the slightest romantic interest – or even just a genuine desire for friendship – would vanish. It became a chilling pattern. A charming suitor from the Germa Kingdom, a kind-hearted diplomat from Alabasta, even a jovial merchant's son who simply enjoyed your company – all gone, swallowed by the ceaseless currents of the Grand Line, or so it seemed.

A suffocating guilt began to coil in your stomach, tightening with each new disappearance. You were a walking curse, a black hole of affection that consumed anyone who dared to get too close. The vibrant royal balls became hushed affairs when you entered, whispers following you like a mournful echo. Princes from far-off lands, once eager for an alliance with your prosperous kingdom, now politely, or sometimes not so politely, refused to even walk near you. They feared the unknown, the whispers of a princess who brought misfortune to those who admired her.

Yet, through it all, there was Lucci. He remained your steadfast shadow, your unwavering constant. While others recoiled, he stepped closer. He was more than just your personal knight; he was your confessor, your confidant, your only true friend.

You remember the day the news arrived about Prince Kalim of Dressrosa, the last to vanish. You'd been in the palace gardens, trying to find solace among the blossoming hydrangeas. When the royal messenger delivered the grim tidings, your knees buckled. Lucci, ever vigilant, was there in an instant, his arm circling your waist, steadying you. He led you to a secluded bench, and as the tears streamed down your face, he simply sat beside you, offering a handkerchief and his quiet presence. He didn't try to offer empty platitudes, or tell you it wasn't your fault – he just was.

Later that evening, in the solitude of your chambers, you found him waiting by the window, his silhouette stark against the twilight. You walked over to him, and without a word, he pulled you into a comforting embrace. You buried your face in his chest, and he held you, stroking your hair as he had all those years ago when Luffy disappeared. "They're fools, Y/n," he'd murmured, his voice a low, steadying rumble. "They don't see your worth. They don't understand the risks they take when they stray from their designated paths." His words, as always, were a balm, yet a familiar unease pricked at you. The way he always seemed to know, to predict, to rationalize every disappearance… it was almost too perfect. Too prepared. As if he had always anticipated this, always known he would be the last one standing beside you.

Years bled into one another, marked not by celebrations or new alliances, but by the quiet, creeping isolation that became your constant companion. The royal palace, once a vibrant hub, now felt like a gilded cage. Your days were a monotonous rhythm of duties and the ever-present shadow of your supposed curse. You found yourself retreating more and more, the once-bright spark of your personality dimming under the weight of perpetual guilt and loneliness.

The only consistent light in your life remained Lucci. He was an unshakeable pillar, always there to listen to your anxieties, to offer a dry, reassuring comment, or simply to exist in comfortable silence beside you. He’d often join you for your morning walks through the deserted royal gardens, his sharp eyes scanning the perimeters while you admired the dew-kissed roses. "The world is full of dangers, Y/n," he'd said once, his gaze fixed on the distant sea. "It is my duty to ensure you are shielded from them." His words were meant to comfort, to remind you of his unwavering loyalty, yet they carried an unsettling undertone, a faint echo of something possessive.

Evenings often found you both in the grand library, the only place where you truly felt a sense of peace. You’d read ancient texts or maps of the Grand Line, while Lucci, seated across from you, would meticulously polish his favored pigeon, Hattori, or simply observe you with an intensity that you sometimes found unnerving. One particularly stormy night, with rain lashing against the tall windows, you confessed your deepest fear to him.

"I feel like a monster, Lucci," you’d whispered, your voice barely audible above the storm’s roar. "Everyone I care for, everyone who comes close… they vanish. It has to be me. I'm cursed."

He had risen from his seat, walked over to you, and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was firm, almost reassuringly so. "Nonsense, Y/n," he’d stated, his voice calm and unwavering. "You are not cursed. You are simply… valuable. So valuable that some would go to great lengths to ensure you remain uncompromised." He paused, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate path on your arm. "It is merely fate, guiding you towards the path you were always meant to walk. A path where only the truly devoted can remain by your side." His words, meant to soothe, felt like cold marble against your skin. You didn’t question it then, didn’t dare to look too deeply into the implications of what he was truly saying. After all, what else could you do but trust the one person who had never abandoned you? The one person who, despite everything, was always there, ready to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

As the years wore on, Lucci didn't just remain in your life; he became its very scaffolding. He wasn't simply there for you; he became the only stable point in a world that had otherwise crumbled away. The emotional dependence you felt for him was a subtle, insidious thing, growing with each vanished suitor, each whispered rumor, each moment of despair he was there to witness. He was your emotional barometer, calibrating your feelings, often subtly guiding your reactions.

You stopped seeking comfort from anyone else because there was no one else. When news arrived of yet another distant royal engagement – one that, in a parallel universe, might have been yours – it was Lucci who sat with you in the quiet of the library, not consoling with platitudes, but with a shared, almost complicit, silence that acknowledged the world’s unfairness. He'd offer you a perfectly brewed cup of tea, a silent gesture that spoke louder than any words. You found yourself confiding in him about everything: your fears, your loneliness, even the mundane anxieties of managing the royal household. And he, in turn, listened with an unwavering intensity, his dark eyes never leaving your face.

One evening, after a particularly draining day filled with diplomatic duties you had to handle alone, you broke down. The weight of your isolation felt crushing. You found Lucci in the training yard, his movements precise and deadly as he practiced with his gauntlets. Seeing him, so utterly in control, so present, a sob escaped you. He stopped immediately, his head turning. Without a word, he came to you, his face unreadable but his presence a solid comfort.

You clung to him, your tears soaking into his usually immaculate uniform. He didn't push you away. Instead, his arms came around you, holding you with a strength that felt both protective and unyielding. "It's alright, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low thrum against your ear. "Let it out. You don't have to be strong for anyone here but yourself. And for me."

His words, meant to soothe, settled deep within you, anchoring you to him even further. It was in moments like these that the line between comfort and control blurred. You found yourself relying on his opinions for even minor decisions. "What do you think, Lucci?" became a frequent question on your lips. He never made the decision for you outright, but his carefully worded suggestions, always presented as "the most logical course," always steered you towards his preferred outcome. You didn't realize, then, how deftly he was weaving himself into the very fabric of your existence, becoming not just a presence, but the sole foundation upon which your emotional world rested.

The quiet solace Lucci offered slowly, irrevocably, transmuted into something deeper within your heart. With every passing season, with every prince who vanished and every whispered rumour that kept others at bay, he was the unwavering constant, the only hand that reached for yours. He was your anchor in a world that had abandoned you. It wasn't a sudden, blinding flash of passion, but a gradual, gentle blooming of affection, born from shared grief and profound dependence. You found yourself watching him more, captivated by the way his brow furrowed in thought, the quiet strength in his hands as he polished Hattori, the almost imperceptible softening of his gaze when he looked at you. You were falling in love with him.

One crisp morning, you were overseeing the preparations for a minor trade negotiation, feeling particularly overwhelmed. Lucci stood by your side, as always, offering his concise observations. You made a small error in your calculations, and frustration welled up, hot and sharp. Before you could scold yourself, Lucci's hand, cool and firm, covered yours on the parchment, stilling your pen.

"It is a minor oversight, Y/n," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. He leaned closer, and you felt the warmth of his breath on your ear. "Do not be so hard on yourself. You carry the weight of this kingdom with grace."

His touch lingered, a subtle caress that sent a jolt through you. You looked up, your eyes meeting his. For a fleeting moment, the usual guard in his eyes seemed to falter, replaced by an intensity, a possessiveness that was almost raw. It was a silent acknowledgment, a shared secret between just the two of you, that went beyond duty or friendship. In that instant, you knew he felt it too.

Lucci's affection, once a carefully controlled undercurrent, began to surface in small, almost imperceptible ways, yet they spoke volumes to your attuned heart. He would ensure your favorite tea was always prepared just as you liked it, appearing seemingly out of nowhere with a steaming cup. During your evening strolls through the palace gardens, he'd subtly guide you away from any drafts, his hand gently at the small of your back. He'd catch your eye across a crowded room, a look of profound understanding passing between you that excluded everyone else.

One rainy afternoon, you were painting in your private studio, struggling with a particularly intricate detail. You sighed in frustration, dropping your brush. Lucci, who had been quietly reading in a nearby chair, set his book aside. He came to stand behind you, looking over your shoulder at the canvas. His hand reached out, not to correct your painting, but to gently cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

"It is beautiful, Y/n," he whispered, his voice a low, intimate murmur that resonated through you. "Just as you are."

His eyes, usually so guarded, held a vulnerability, a profound depth of feeling that mirrored your own. He leaned down, and for a heart-stopping moment, you thought he would kiss you. Instead, he pressed his lips gently to your temple, a chaste but infinitely tender gesture that spoke of a burgeoning, possessive love. In that moment, the years of isolation, the pain of those who had vanished, faded into the background. All that mattered was the quiet, undeniable understanding blooming between you and the man who had always been there, waiting in the shadows.

The quiet gestures and lingering touches grew bolder, more confident, as the unspoken affection between you and Lucci deepened. The palace, once a place of lonely duty, now hummed with a subtle, electric current whenever he was near. His gaze, once merely watchful, now held a warmth that was exclusively yours, a possessive tenderness that thrilled you to your core.

One evening, unable to sleep, you found yourself drawn to the royal observatory, a glass-domed chamber at the highest point of the palace. The Grand Line sky, a canvas of swirling nebulae and countless stars, stretched out above you. You were mesmerized, lost in the vastness, when you heard the soft click of the door. Lucci. He often found you here, as if drawn by an invisible thread.

He didn't speak, simply walked to stand beside you, his presence a comforting weight in the quiet night. The air was cool, but a warmth spread through you, a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature. You felt his hand reach for yours, his fingers intertwining with yours, a silent claim.

"Sometimes," you began, your voice barely a whisper, "I feel so small under all these stars. Like nothing I do truly matters."

He squeezed your hand, his thumb stroking your knuckles. "You matter, Y/n. More than you could ever know. To this kingdom… and to me."

You turned to face him, the starlight reflecting in his dark eyes. There was no guard there tonight, only a profound vulnerability that mirrored your own. "Lucci," you breathed, the name a soft caress on your lips. "All these years… when everyone else left… you stayed. You were always there." Your voice hitched, thick with emotion. "I… I think I’m in love with you."

The confession hung in the air, vast and terrifying and exhilarating as the cosmos above. A slow, gentle smile, one you rarely saw, touched his lips, softening the sharp angles of his face. His free hand reached up, cupping your cheek, his touch tender yet firm.

"You think?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes held yours, burning with an intensity that promised devotion, obsession, and a love as fierce as any storm on the Grand Line. "I have loved you since you were but a girl, Y/n. Watched you grow, protected you from those who would tarnish your light." His thumb traced the curve of your jaw. "Every step of the way, every moment, every sacrifice… it was always for you."

And then, he leaned down, and his lips, firm and possessive, met yours. It was a kiss born of years of unspoken longing, of shared solitude, of a bond forged in the crucible of loss and unwavering presence. It was deep, consuming, and utterly, irrevocably yours. In that moment, under the silent, watchful gaze of a million stars, you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your soul, that you had found your constant, your protector, your only love. The world outside, with its whispers and its fears, vanished, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a love that felt as boundless as the night sky itself.

The kiss deepened, a universe of unspoken emotions exploding between you and Lucci. His hand moved from your cheek to thread into your hair, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Your own hands found purchase on his shoulders, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had, for so long, felt like shifting sand.

The stars continued their silent dance above, but your world had narrowed to the warmth of his lips, the scent of his skin, the powerful rhythm of his heart beating against yours. This was not a fairytale, not the grand, public romance royalty was expected to have. It was something far more profound, born from shared pain, unwavering loyalty, and a love that had bloomed in the shadows of despair.

When he finally pulled back, breathless, his eyes still held that raw, burning intensity. He pressed his forehead against yours, his voice a husky whisper that resonated deep within your very soul. "You are mine, Y/n," he breathed, the words a vow, a promise, and a subtle, undeniable claim. "And I am yours. Forever."

In his embrace, under the vast, silent canvas of the Grand Line sky, you finally felt truly safe, truly loved, and truly at peace. The years of guilt, the phantom whispers of missing suitors, the gnawing loneliness – all of it faded, replaced by the overwhelming, all-consuming presence of the man who had always been there, waiting to claim his place by your side. He was your knight, your best friend, and now, your lover. The only one who had never left. The only one who ever would.

[theunsinkableship1]

An unsinkable ship and 3 wise monkeys.

⚠️Beware this a lukola content! Skip if you don't believe!

Some choose to see only what is presented, accepting it without question. Some hear only the whispers that confirm their bias. And others speak as if they know the full truth, even when the pieces don’t quite fit.

The discourse surrounding Luke and Nicola often feels like a tug-of-war between undeniable chemistry and persistent skepticism.

The biggest challenge with Lukola is that people often refuse to consider anything beyond face-value optics. If they don’t see a clear, labeled relationship announcement, they assume there’s nothing. But relationships, especially high-profile, potentially complicated ones, don’t always follow that linear path. Don't get me wrong I believe them when they say that they are the best of friends .The rest is not that easy to follow contrary to the popular belief .

This latest development: Luke being photographed holding hands with his presumed girlfriend in People Magazine that naturally raises questions and fuels discussions within the Lukola space. As with all public narratives involving celebrities, there are multiple ways to interpret what is happening, ranging from the most straightforward explanations to more layered and complex possibilities.

Scenario 1: The Most Evident Interpretation

The simplest way to view this is at face value : Luke and the girlfriend are indeed in a relationship, and these photos are just casual moments captured by paparazzi. Supporters of this perspective would argue that there is nothing unusual about a public figure being seen with his significant other, especially in an era where celebrities are increasingly subjected to media scrutiny.

Scenario 2: PR Strategy and Media Management

Another plausible scenario is that these images are part of a managed narrative. People Magazine obtained an exclusive release. Given that Backgrid is known for staging “candid” paparazzi moments, it is worth questioning whether Luke and the girlfriend wanted or needed to be seen together publicly for a reason.

A common PR tactic in the industry is controlling the flow of information to maintain a certain image, whether it be for career reasons, contractual obligations, or to buy time before another major revelation.

Scenario 3: A Cover for Something Else?

Some might argue that this is a case of misdirection. If there is a bigger story at play, one that Luke and Nicola are not yet ready to make public, then keeping certain narratives alive in the media could serve a strategic purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time that celebrities have used carefully placed relationships to deflect speculation while navigating personal or professional transitions.

This theory suggests that these images are meant to reinforce an existing storyline while something else unfolds behind the scenes. .

Scenario 4: Personal Confusion or Internal Conflict

A more human interpretation could be that Luke and Nicola themselves are navigating complicated emotions. If they have strong feelings for each other but are involved with others, they may experience inner conflict. The contrast in Luke’s demeanor when with either woman suggests that if there is something real between him and Nicola, it may not yet be in a place where he feels ready or able to act on it.

This could explain moments of tension between him and Nicola in interviews, the undercurrents of unspoken communication, and why he doesn’t appear fully at ease in these staged outings. If he is torn between what he should do versus what he wants to do, that would naturally create inconsistencies in his public and private actions.

From a Lukola standpoint, this situation is not a definitive blow rather, it is a continuation of an ongoing narrative that still has unresolved elements. The ship is built on the belief that there is something undeniably strong between Luke and Nicola, something that transcends surface-level optics. If Lukola were truly “dead,” then Luke and Nicola’s interactions would not continue to raise questions.

Supporting Lukola means believing in their love potential, regardless of any external factors or other relationships that may exist. Those are irrelevant to the essence of this space. The goal of shipping is simple: to see them together, to celebrate their bond, and to explore the possibility of their romantic connection. The name itself is self-explanatory.

It’s also worth considering why some people resist the idea. Some prefer the neat and easy narrative that aligns with what the media presents. Others may not pick up on subtleties or are unwilling to entertain possibilities that challenge their preconceived notions. And, of course, there are those who simply refuse to acknowledge something that doesn’t align with their personal preferences.

Still, it’s impossible to ignore the inconsistencies in what is presented versus what is felt. We see the stark contrast in Luke’s demeanor with different people, the way staged narratives unfold, and the careful handling of public perception. These patterns suggest a story more complex than the surface allows. And while some may dismiss it as wishful thinking, I choose to trust what I’ve observed rather than what I’m told to believe.

When you’ve spent time meticulously analyzing their interactions, patterns, and public contradictions, it can feel almost absurd that some people insist there’s nothing there. Especially when there’s compelling evidence, body language, emotional reactions, moments of tension and resolution, and even strategic media placements that suggests something deeper than mere friendship.

The evidence indicating that they were supposedly associated in some manner at one point is out there, which already challenges the notion that their relationship has been exclusively platonic.The questions that would remain unanswered are when, for how long, and whether they are still together in private. There are hints, patterns, and moments that don’t align with the narratives being pushed. Given those perceived hints, it seems plausible that their relationship might not fit the traditional public trajectory but rather one that’s more private, complex, and possibly ongoing.

Some things aren’t meant for public scrutiny, no matter how frustrating it is to see others deny what you know to be true.

In the grand scheme, the truth isn’t about winning an argument or proving doubters wrong. It’s about recognizing what’s real and allowing space for Luke and Nicola to navigate their relationship whatever form it takes on their own terms. If they are keeping things private, there’s likely a reason for it, and we should respect that as fans and observers.

Sometimes, knowing the truth is enough. You don’t need external validation when the pieces fit, and in the end, the people who want to see it will.

At the end of the day, the evidence speaks for itself. If you’ve connected the dots and see a clear picture forming, then that perspective is just as valid, if not more so than someone dismissing it outright without engaging in the same level of analysis.

There’s a certain balance that comes with being a Lukola supporter one that requires both awareness and restraint. We see the effort being made to present a particular narrative, one that we are expected to accept at face value. And while it may not align with everything we’ve observed, it exists for a reason.

So, we “pretend” to believe. Not out of ignorance, but out of respect. If this is the version of events, they are committed to putting forth, then the least we can do is play along at least outwardly. Publicly, we acknowledge the script. Privately, we continue to piece together the story that logic and intuition tell us.

But make no mistake, this does not mean we stop shipping them. The two things are not mutually exclusive. Recognizing the official narrative does not erase the genuine moments, the patterns, the history, or the lingering sense that there’s more beneath the surface. It simply means we respect their right to navigate this in their own way, on their own terms.

Shipping is, at its core, about belief in a connection. And that connection is undeniable. Whether it’s hidden in plain sight or simply waiting for the right moment to be acknowledged, our support remains steady. We’re not here to force revelations or demand confirmations we’re here because we see something real.

So we nod along to the public story, all while keeping our own understanding intact. Because sometimes, the most powerful way to support something is to let it unfold naturally, even when you already know the truth. For now, the best course of action is patience. As always, speculation will exist on all sides, but ultimately, only Luke and Nicola hold the power to sink this ship and all their actions are not giving that.

Lukola isn’t just a ship, it’s an unsinkable submarine. It moves beneath the surface, unseen by most but always present. While others accept the surface-level narrative, we recognize the deeper currents in these turbulent waters, the moments that slip through, the patterns that don’t lie.

Like the Three Wise Monkeys, many choose willful blindness, silence, and ignorance. They see nothing, hear nothing, and say nothing, pretending inconsistencies don’t exist. But the truth doesn’t disappear just because it’s unspoken.

🎵When you want it the most There's no easy way out When you're ready to go And your heart's left in doubt Don't give up on your faith (don't give up on your faith) Love comes to those who believe it (And that's the way it is)🎵

[princesskenny1998]

One Piece | Monkey D. Luffy x waitress!f!Reader ~ One Night Stand?, PT.1 (Smut)

It had been a busy night at the little seaside tavern where you worked—a place that was usually quiet save for the occasional rush of sailors or travelers looking for a good meal and some laughter. Tonight, though, the atmosphere was electric, buzzing with the excitement that had rippled through the whole island since the Thousand Sunny docked just beyond the cove. Everyone knew who they were: the infamous Straw Hat Pirates, their legendary adventures and wild exploits whispered about in every corner of the Grand Line.

The tavern was packed, the crew taking up a large table in the corner, and you had watched them all night—watched them laugh and eat and drink, filling the room with their boisterous energy. But no matter how many times you told yourself to focus, your eyes kept drifting back to him—to Monkey D. Luffy, the Straw Hat Captain, who sat at the center of the table like he was the sun and everyone else revolved around him.

You didn’t know why you found him so fascinating. He was different from the other men you had known—goofier, louder, with that devil-may-care smile that seemed to promise adventure and trouble in equal measure. He wasn’t traditionally handsome, not in the way your friends usually described the men they dated, but there was something magnetic about him. Something that drew your gaze every time you caught a glimpse of his easy grin or the way he laughed without a care in the world. He seemed so alive, like he was bursting with energy that couldn’t be contained, and for reasons you didn’t fully understand, you couldn’t look away.

You tried to focus on your work, taking orders and clearing plates, but it was impossible when Luffy’s laughter echoed across the room, when he smiled at you with that wide, boyish grin that made your cheeks warm. You found yourself lingering by their table every chance you got, making small talk, dropping hints that you hoped he’d pick up on—a playful smile here, a lingering touch there. It felt a little reckless, a little foolish, but you couldn’t help yourself. There was just something about him.

The rest of the crew noticed, of course—how could they not? Nami gave you an amused, knowing smile when you refilled their drinks for the third time, and Usopp winked and wished you good luck. But you ignored them, focusing all your attention on Luffy, who seemed more than happy to soak it all in, grinning at you like you were the most interesting person in the room. Maybe you were crazy, maybe your friends would tease you mercilessly if they knew, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to notice you, to see if the heat you felt whenever his gaze met yours was just in your imagination.

And then, finally, it was time to close. The rest of the customers had trickled out, leaving only the crew, still celebrating and swapping stories over half-empty mugs. You were finishing up your shift, your apron slung over your shoulder, when Luffy caught your eye across the room, his grin widening as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

“Hey,” he called out, waving you over with a casual confidence that made your stomach do a little flip. “You’re done for the night, right?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding, but you forced yourself to smile, tilting your head flirtatiously as you crossed the room. “I am,” you said, feeling a thrill run through you when he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Why? Got something in mind?”

His grin widened, and he shrugged in that carefree way of his. “I dunno,” he said, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “Maybe you could show me around? I like this island.”

You could have said no, like you usually did when men made advances on you. You could have laughed it off, gone home, and forgotten the whole thing. But there was something about the way he looked at you, something in his dark eyes that made you throw caution to the wind.

“I think I could do that,” you said, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you’re up for a little adventure.”

He laughed, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine, and before you knew it, you were leading him out of the tavern, away from the noise and the lights and the prying eyes of the rest of the crew, down the winding cobblestone streets toward your little apartment on the edge of town.

Your heart was racing, your hands trembling as you unlocked the door and led him inside, the air between you charged with an energy that made your skin prickle. It was crazy, you knew that—it was impulsive and reckless and everything you’d never done before. But when he stepped inside, filling the small space with his presence, all of your doubts disappeared. You wanted this. You wanted him.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you turned to face him, suddenly feeling shy and unsure now that you were alone. But Luffy didn’t give you time to think. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat, his fingers brushing your cheek as he looked at you with a seriousness that stole the breath from your lungs.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” he said, his voice low and almost curious, and it wasn’t a question—it was a statement, and it made your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Why?”

“Because…” you hesitated, the words catching in your throat, and for a moment, you thought about brushing it off, playing it safe. But then you looked into his eyes, and something about the way he looked back at you—open and unguarded and utterly sincere—made you tell the truth. “Because there’s something about you,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Something I can’t ignore.”

For a second, he looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected you to say that. But then he grinned—a slow, lazy smile that made your heart skip—and leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. “Good,” he said, his voice a husky murmur that sent a rush of heat straight to your core. “Because I feel the same way.”

And then he kissed you.

It was like nothing you’d ever experienced—fast, intense, almost overwhelming. His lips were hot and demanding against yours, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You melted into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, wanting to feel every inch of him, to get lost in the heat and the desire that had been building between you all night.

His touch was electrifying, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that left you gasping for breath, and when he pulled back, his eyes dark with want, you didn’t hesitate. You grabbed his hand, leading him down the narrow hallway to your bedroom, the anticipation buzzing through you like a live wire.

He followed without question, and the moment the door closed behind you, you were on each other—clothes hitting the floor in a messy pile, kisses growing more urgent, more desperate. It was wild, chaotic, a blur of heat and sensation as he pushed you back onto the bed, his body pressing against yours, strong and solid and so very real.

There was no hesitation, no awkward fumbling—only a fierce, all-consuming passion that took you both by surprise. Luffy’s touch was rough but careful, his lips moving over your skin in a way that made you shiver, made you arch against him, made you forget everything but the feel of him, the heat of him, the way he moved like he knew exactly what you needed.

And you gave as good as you got—your hands exploring every inch of his body, your nails raking down his back, pulling him closer, urging him on. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before—intense and consuming, the kind of desire that made you feel like you were on fire from the inside out.

When he finally moved inside you, it was like the world stopped, everything narrowing down to that single, overwhelming point of connection. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he kissed you, his movements steady and sure, his breath ragged against your lips. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word sent you spiraling higher and higher, until you were lost in the sensation, the pleasure, the sheer, raw intensity of it all.

It was fast and frantic and desperate, but it was perfect—like he was pouring everything he had into you, like he was trying to make up for all the time you’d spent watching him from across a crowded room, waiting for this moment.

And when it was over, when the storm of pleasure had finally passed, leaving you both breathless and tangled together in the sheets, you lay there with him, your body still humming with the aftershocks, feeling a kind of peace you hadn’t known you were missing.

Luffy lay beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his breath warm and steady against your shoulder. He looked at you, a lazy grin spreading across his face, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Wow,” he said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and satisfaction, and you laughed, feeling a lightness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. “Wow.”

He chuckled, his eyes drifting shut as he pulled you closer, holding you tight against him as if he had no intention of letting go. And you didn’t mind. You knew, deep down, that whatever this was—whatever it meant—it was real. It was something you wouldn’t forget, something that would stay with you long after the night ended and for years to come.

As the first hints of dawn filtered in, you lay there with Luffy, neither of you in any rush to move. The silence between you was comfortable, punctuated only by the soft rhythm of his breathing, his body solid and warm against yours. You traced idle patterns on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips, and wondered how something that had started as a simple flirtation had turned into this—a night that had left you feeling raw, exposed, but strangely content.

Luffy’s eyes cracked open, and he caught your hand, pressing a quick kiss to your palm before tangling his fingers with yours. “You look happy,” he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep but carrying that teasing lilt you’d come to recognize. His grin was softer now, not the usual wild and carefree expression, but something more genuine, almost tender.

“I am,” you admitted, smiling back at him. “More than I’ve been in a long time.”

He looked pleased with that, his gaze never leaving yours, and for a moment, you wondered if you were seeing a side of him that few people ever got to see—something quieter, something real. It was hard to imagine this was the same Luffy who had walked into the tavern last night with his usual, boundless energy. Now, lying beside you in the dim light of the morning, he seemed almost... grounded, tethered to you in a way that made your chest tighten with unexpected emotion.

The reality of what you’d done was starting to sink in. You had spent the night with Monkey D. Luffy, the pirate captain who was as infamous as he was reckless, whose very name carried stories of adventure and unlimited joy. But here, in the stillness of your room, he was just a boy—a boy who had made you feel alive in a way you’d never thought possible.

“I should probably get back soon,” he said after a while, his tone apologetic but not regretful. “The crew’s probably waiting, it was our last night on this island after all.”

You knew he was right. They would set sail soon, and he had a whole world out there waiting for him—places to see, battles to fight, dreams to chase. He was never going to be the kind of man who stayed in one place for long, and you had known that from the moment you’d seen him.

Still, a part of you ached at the thought of him leaving. You didn’t want to be just another island, another night in his endless journey. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and nodded. “I know. You have a ship to sail and a world to explore.” You tried to keep your tone light, playful, but he saw right through it.

His eyes softened, and he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a gentleness that made your throat tighten. “Hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I’ll come back. I promise.” You knew that Luffy wasn’t the kind of person who made empty promises, and that whatever you had shared last night was real.

You smiled, blinking back the sudden sting of tears, and kissed him one last time—slow and sweet, pouring everything you couldn’t say into that single, lingering moment. He kissed you back, his hands cradling your face, and for just a second, the rest of the world fell away, leaving only the two of you and the quiet, undeniable connection you’d found in the dark.

When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless, and he grinned at you, his eyes bright and alive with that familiar spark that had drawn you to him in the first place. “I’ve gotta go,” he said, his tone almost regretful, and you nodded, even though it hurt.

You watched him dress, every movement deliberate and unhurried, as if he was memorizing the feel of your space, your presence, before he left. When he was fully clothed, he turned to you one last time, his hat perched crookedly on his head, and flashed you that carefree smile you knew you’d never forget.

“Thanks for the adventure,” he said, his voice warm and genuine. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you managed to say, even though you had no idea if you’d ever see him again. “Take care of yourself, Luffy.”

He nodded, gave you one last, lingering look, and then he was gone, slipping out the door and into the early morning light. You stayed where you were, listening to the fading sound of his footsteps, the empty space he left behind feeling far too quiet and far too empty.

For a long time, you just sat there, staring at the door, your mind replaying the night in vivid, bittersweet flashes—the way he’d looked at you, the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his touch. It had been reckless, impulsive, and completely unexpected, but you knew you’d never regret it. Whatever came next, whatever his adventures brought him, you knew that you’d been part of his story, even if only for a brief, shining moment. And maybe, maybe, he would really come back for you someday.

And somehow that thought was enough.

You got up eventually, your legs still a little shaky, and started to clean up—gathering your clothes, straightening the bed, trying to distract yourself from the ache in your chest. You had a life here, friends, and a job, and you couldn’t afford to dwell on what might have been. But as you opened the windows, letting in the fresh sea breeze, you couldn’t help but smile.

Because, for one night, you’d been swept up in the world of the Straw Hat Pirates, caught in the orbit of a boy with a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the world. You had taken a chance, and it had been worth it. And who knew? Maybe, somewhere out there on the vast, endless sea, Luffy would remember you too.

Weeks later, long after the Straw Hats had sailed away and life had returned to its usual rhythm, save for the new life you carried under your heart, you found a small, folded piece of parchment tucked under your doormat—a note with messy, scrawled handwriting. It was short and to the point, but it made your heart swell with a fierce, unexpected joy.

“Thanks for the fun night. I really meant what I said. When I'm finished with my adventures, then I'll come back for you. Keep smiling. — Luffy”

You laughed, tears slipping down your cheeks as you pressed the note to your chest, one hand on your still flat belly, feeling lighter than you had in ages. He was out there, somewhere, chasing his dreams and causing all sorts of trouble, but a part of him had left something behind—a piece of the adventure, a reminder that even in the vast and unpredictable world, connections like the one you’d shared could exist, however fleeting they had started.

And in that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, you’d always be grateful for that night, for the boy with the straw hat who had walked into your life and made you believe, even if only for a little while, in magic and adventure and the kind of passion that could burn through the dark.

You folded the note carefully and tucked it away in a safe place, a secret memento of a wild, reckless night you’d never forget. Then you took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and went back to your life, the memory of his smile warming you like a hidden flame you’d carry with you for a long, long time.

[kagaintheskywithdiamonds]

!!! I finally wrote the first chapter of car stan!!

And I might cross-post it to AO3, if/when I can actually come up with a title besides "car stan".

@eiriscosmo @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @kale-of-the-forbidden-cities @princessbubblecup @someoddmix @arzzly @pigeonsholdup @openendedquestionss @maridrawss @skrytch @bren-the-chicken @dark-lord-of-awesomeness @beetlbi @anotherspookyarchivist

This is not what I thought the afterlife would be like.

These were among Stan’s first thoughts when he came to in his new body.

Also not what I thought reincarnation was like.

Apparently the tow truck driver didn’t notice Stan helplessly spin his front wheels in the air when he woke up, trying to move his arms and legs only to discover that he had none.

You think the guy in that Kafka story had it bad? At least bugs still have things like a brain and a heart, Stan was fairly certain. I don’t. How the fuck am I even alive?

Never mind the fact that the jump off that bridge should’ve killed him. He was pretty sure it did. He didn’t really expect to wake up again after that, except maybe in front of the pearly gates.

Or hell, more realistically. Wasn’t suicide supposed to be a sin, or something? A really bad one?

Maybe that’s what all this was, some weird cosmic punishment.

Not that Stan was particularly worried about receiving some kind of cosmic punishment when he made his decision, because he didn’t really believe there was an afterlife, or a God at all, for that matter.

But now, having spent days staring at the back of a tow truck, Stan was certain that not only did God exist, but that he was a real sadistic bastard with a sick sense of humor.

Stan had somehow become his own car, and now he’s being towed to wherever his estranged twin brother lives. He’s about to be Ford’s car.

Because of course that’s how things would play out. He said that he wanted Ford to have the car, and amazingly someone actually respected the final requests that Stan left in that suicide note, but of course there had to be this bizarre monkey’s paw sort of twist to it.

About a week ago, Stan used the last of his spare change to call Ford one last time, and he’d actually worked up the nerve to say something instead of hanging up after three seconds of silence. Stan didn’t have high hopes that his attempts at reconciliation would go over well, but he had to try, he had to extend the olive branch one more time just in case there was any hope that he still had something left to live for.

But Ford’s words to him that night had not been so kind. That settles it, then, Stan thought at the time. I officially have nothing left to live for. I’ve got no future, I’m banned in half the country, I’m never gonna make those millions, Sixer apparently still hates my guts, and I’m so goddamn sick of living in my car.

Again, it feels like there’s a monkey’s paw twist here.

It took days of driving and quite a few pit stops before Stan arrived at his destination. He wasn’t sure where he expected that Ford would be living these days, but it wasn’t a log cabin in the middle of the woods in bum-fuck Oregon.

Gravity Falls, that’s what this tiny-ass town is called. Apparently it’s so small and unimportant that they don’t even put it on maps—much to the chagrin of the tow truck driver, who had a hell of a time finding the place.

The tow truck driver unhitched Stan in Ford’s driveway (if you could even call it a driveway. It was mostly just dirt) and Stan watched the driver approach Ford’s front door with clipboard in hand, probably so Ford could sign for delivery or something.

Stan thought about driving off right then and there. He was finally unhitched from that stupid tow, he had all four wheels on the ground, he could just drive off and start a weird new life. But for some reason he felt compelled to stay, at least for a bit longer. Stan kept his attention focused on Ford’s front door as the truck driver knocked.

Stan didn’t have a great view from where he stood (don’t ask him how he can see at all without eyes. He doesn’t even know), but he could see Ford answer the door. And he swore Ford actually looked�� upset? About what?

About me being dead?

The truck driver, his business concluded, got back in his vehicle and drove away, probably glad to be done with this assignment.

Ford, meanwhile, stood almost motionless in his front door, fidgeting with the set of keys he’d just been given, seemingly deep in thought. Once the tow truck was gone, Stan watched Ford descend the steps on his front porch and walk towards the Stanleymobile.

Once Ford got closer to him, Stan was able to see that not only was Ford clearly distraught, but he actually looked like he’d recently been crying, and was possibly about to start doing so again.

Were Stan a more emotionally intelligent person, he might’ve been able to make sense of the complicated whirlwind of feelings going through his head at that moment. But it was easier to just be angry, so he was angry.

Oh, so now you give a fuck about me?! Now you care?! Stan really wished he could speak. He wished he could do anything other than keep his rage bottled up in his strange new body. It would’ve been nice of you to say that when I was still alive! I called you, I said I wanted us to be brothers again, and you acted like you still hated me, you asshole!

Ford placed a hand on the car’s hood, completely unaware of his brother’s silent rage. “Oh, Stanley…”

Don’t you “oh, Stanley” me!! Stan had to restrain himself from revving his engine in anger. You weren’t supposed to care if I live or die! I wouldn’t have gone through with it if I knew you actually still gave a damn!

Ford’s tear-streaked face was a bit of a surreal sight. Pines men don’t cry. Stan hadn’t seen Ford cry since they were children. So to think that the death of his brother—the brother that he turned his back on!—would be enough to bring him to tears…

Stan felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Ford lifted his head up a bit, enough to peer through the car’s windshield, and Stan noticed his eyes narrow slightly. Apparently their decade apart didn’t change the fact that Stan could still read Ford like a book. Even the subtle changes in his facial expression were enough to make Stan realize, Ford was thinking. Stan could practically see the gears turn in his head as Ford made observations, and then came to conclusions based on those observations.

Ford was noticing all the clutter inside the car.

Stan, at that moment, really wished that he’d splurged on those legally dubious tinted windows when he had the chance.

You didn’t have to be a genius like Ford to figure out that Stan had been living in his car. And, sure, Stan knew that Ford would’ve eventually figured that out when he left the car to him in his makeshift will, but he didn’t think he’d be around to watch Ford come to that conclusion, to see the look of pity on his face…

Fuck tinted windows, Stan wished he could turn invisible.

Ford looked back down at the keys in his hands and continued to fidget with them. Actually, not just fidgeting, it looked like he was getting ready to use them. Sure enough, Stan then saw Ford approach the driver’s side door with key in hand.

Ford was about to open the car up and root through all of Stan’s trash, learning just what a pathetic life he’d been living for the past decade.

Pines men are also prideful, and Stan didn’t think his pride could take that.

Stan felt the key as it was inserted. He felt his doors unlock.

Stan panicked.

His engine roared to life. And with a screech of his tires, he rocketed forward.

Ford leapt back in surprise, losing his balance and falling backwards into the dirt.

Stan came to a hard stop again just a few car-lengths forward. He could still see Ford propping himself up in the dirt, staring at the car with his mouth agape and glasses askew.

Stan realized at that moment, he probably could’ve just re-locked the doors.

He also realized he didn’t have a plan, as he froze momentarily without a clue what to do next. Maybe I should just run, he thought. Running seemed natural enough. He’d been running pretty much nonstop since he was kicked out of the house at 17. Apparently being a car (a reality that Stan was still absolutely boggled by) wasn’t going to change that.

He turned, kicking up dirt in Ford’s driveway (or the dirt-way, whatever. Stan still felt like it didn’t count as a driveway) as he made a beeline for the open road. He still didn’t have a plan. He just knew that he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

“Wait, stop!” Ford yelled as he scrambled to his feet. But Stan ignored him as he accelerated onto Gopher Road.

Fuck it, maybe I’ll travel the country, for fun this time. Stan thought as he began to picture what the next chapter in his bizarre new life might be like. Maybe I’ll go sightseeing in all the states I was banned from. They can’t ban a car, right?

The thought of existing as a carefree automobile became increasingly enticing, and Stan thought it might actually be a not-terrible existence if he could figure out a way to keep his gas tank full—but something made him hesitate, and that something was the sight of a sprinting, panting nerd in his rear-view mirror.

Amazing. Ford was actually trying to run after a self-driving car that did not know or care what this road’s speed limit was.

Before he even realized he was doing it, Stan started to slow down.

Against his better judgment, he soon came to a stop.

Stan stood still for a moment, watching as Ford put his hands on his knees, no longer able to stand upright as he gasped for breath.

Stan didn’t know why he did what he did next. He made a three-point-turn on that quiet rural road, and then slowly drove back in the direction that he came from, stopping just in front of Ford.

For a moment, the only sounds were the quiet hum of Stan’s engine, Ford’s labored breathing, and the distant chirping of birds in the woods.

That is, until Ford tried to speak.

“How…? I… And you…” Ford gasped between breaths, gesturing wildly as if that would somehow help articulate the thoughts he was trying to get out. Eventually, Stan watched Ford steady himself, take a deep breath, stand up straight, and say a full sentence:

“What the hell?”

Yeah, that’s a fair reaction.

[sarcosmiiic]

no cause i think one of the reasons any life series ship with grian is automatically so ironically stingingly tragic is that it's /his game/.

like putting aside the watchers for a second, grian created the life series. this is /his/ death game, his circus his monkeys. sure, when the person closest to him inevitably dies some gruesome death at his own hands, the pain in his chest still makes him want to jump off a cliff, run face first into a warden, fall a couple hundred blocks and splat, but...

it's still. /his game/.

when other players lose their teammate, it's tragic for them because their friend got ripped from them in an instant and there's nothing they can do. when grian loses someone close to him, it's all /his fault./ he made this game, he wrote the code, he said "if this then that if player gets ripped to shreds in a cactus pit, falls off a bridge in the sky, blows up in our own tower, then they die".

he just. never thinks he's gonna be the one to do it.

he knows it's just a game, he knows he can just hop back on hermitcraft and see his friends alive and well and not shredded splatted blown to pieces.

he just.

his game. his friends. his hands.

gets him every time.

[cozage]

May i ask a headcanon list for Luffy, Sanji and Zoro reaction to their s/o being a cp0 agent?

A/N: I am just now noticing as I finish up this work that you asked for a headcanon LIST. Forgive me for the mix-up!

Characters: female reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro Cw: betrayal, angst with no happy ending  Total word count: 1.6k

Double Agent

Luffy

“It can’t be,” Luffy muttered from the doorway.  

Shit. You had been compromised. Luffy was supposed to be off in the jungle. How had he tracked you to this abandoned building?

“Luffy!” you hissed, stepping in front of the other agent. “What are you doing here?”

“I left that emergency steak with you,” he said, his eyes wide. You had promised him your lunch and forgotten to give it to him. Of course he followed the scent here. 

“We have to get rid of him,” the agent behind you said, reaching for his weapon. You didn’t even know his name, but you couldn’t let him kill the captain of the Stawhats. 

“Absolutely not!” you reached for your own weapon, glaring at him. “You know our orders.”

“If you’re position is compromised-”

“Then killing the captain isn’t going to help much!”

The other agent raised his brow. “Getting soft? They’re pirates. It’s reckless to let him live.”

You scoffed. “You’re the one being reckless. Leave him be. We can still watch from afar.”

“This is a joke, right?” Luffy’s shaky voice came from the doorway again, full of uncertainty. 

You steeled yourself and faced him, putting on a bored face. “It is no joke. I’m afraid I’ve just been sloppy in covering my tracks.”

“You can’t be CP-0.” His face slowly turned to rage. “You would never-”

“Apparently you’ve sparked the interest of some very important people.”

The man behind you clicked his tongue in disapproval. You were saying too much. But you needed Luffy to leave here. He had to leave alive. 

Luffy stared into your eyes, and you swore he was staring into your soul. “I refuse to believe this is the real you. I know you. I love you. This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me at all, Monkey D. Luffy.” You put an extra taunt in his full name. “You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of.” You gave him a wicked grin, letting the worst parts of yourself out into the open for him to see. 

“Come back to the Sunny,” he begged, unphased by the wickedness on your face. “We can figure it out together.”

“I have no reason to return there. Besides, you would just make me a prisoner when I set foot on deck.”

Luffy’s brow furrowed. “I would never restrain you-”

“Leave, Luffy.” You tried your hardest to keep the desperation out of your voice. “Leave now, or don’t leave at all.”

“Permission to terminate, then?” The Agent took a step towards Luffy, and it took everything in you to remain where you stood. 

You pulled out your weapon and threw all of your hate into the stare you gave Luffy. “Leave.”

“This isn’t over until we talk-”

You fired a warning shot, missing his head by a centimeter. “Leave.”

“I’ll get you back. This isn’t over,” Luffy promised, and then he walked out the door. 

Sanji

“This is an interesting place for a picnic, my love!” Sanji’s kind voice rang out amongst the trees. “Where are you hiding?”

The other agent’s eyes widened. “You left a trail?” she hissed.

“Never,” you whispered back. “I-”

“There you are!” Sanji launched himself toward you, wrapping you in a hug. “And who is this fine young woman with you? Did you bring company?”

The agent’s hand moved to her gun, and you gave one quick shake, trying to prevent her from blowing your cover.

“Just a friend,” you said between gritted teeth. “We were just saying goodbye. Could you give us a moment, Sanji?”

“The lady can stay if she’d like!” Sanji quickly said. “I have plenty-”

“I would never sully myself with such company,” the woman snapped. She looked at you. “You’re being called back in.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“Come on,” the woman said. “No more use for appearance. We’ll leave him alive for now.”

Sanji, somehow, kept up a smile. He had no idea what was occurring, but you could tell that he was nervous. 

“My love?” He asked, looking at you with a forced smile and worry in his eyes.

“I have to go, Sanji.” You shouldered your backpack with everything you had collected. 

“No,” he said softly. “You can stay. I don’t know who this woman is but-”

“This woman is your lover’s superior,” the woman said. “And she never loved you. She was just using you for intel.”

“No. Tell them, my love. Tell them what a mistake they have made.”

It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. He was a pirate. You were a government agent. It was supposed to be easier than this. You were used to betraying people, and yet this created a strange ache in your chest. 

“I work for CP-0,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was tasked to infiltrate your crew and obtain records. Watch you all from the inside.”

“Impossible-” Sanji said

But you had to keep going. You had to break him so he would never come looking for you. “I chose you because it was the easiest. You had access to everything. And when I needed to look for specific things, I added sleeping medicine to the tea you served everyone. It was too easy. 

“I don’t believe you.” Sanji had tears in his eyes now. “It wasn’t all fake.”

You sneered at him. “You were so desperate for love, you accepted the bare minimum of affection without a second thought.”

He slumped to his knees, his eyes getting a far-away look in them. Your heart cracked, but your face showed no emotion as you looked down at him. “I’m only letting you live now so you have to live with this failure. But I will come for you one day. And I will kill you.”

He gave a single nod of acknowledgement, as if he had expected this; as if he deserved it. 

He didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve him. But if you showed an ounce of weakness, you knew the agent next to you would kill him. So you turned and left, knowing that his empty stare would haunt your dreams forever. 

Zoro

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Zoro shouted. “Who the hell is that guy?”

The agent next to you fired a bullet before you could react, and you cried out in warning. But the bullet only met steel. Zoro had sliced right through it. 

“I knew you were getting weak. No wonder they wanted to pull you from this mission,” the agent chuckled. He kept his gun aimed at Zoro, but was watching you carefully. 

No. No. How had Zoro found you? He was the last person who should be here right now. He always got lost. How on earth had he found you?

Zoro was still staring at you, waiting for an answer. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the man or the weapons he had. 

“Stand down,” you growled between clenched teeth. 

“I do not take orders from you,” the agent snarled back. 

Zoro was still watching. Hell, how could you play this to get him out alive? You couldn’t have him getting hurt. You had already said your goodbyes in letters to the crew. You had made up some reason to leave. But Zoro, of all people, had managed to find you. 

“I’m leaving the crew!” you shouted to him. 

A trace of hurt passed over Zoro’s face. “You’re taking some government recruitment position over us? You can’t be serious.”

“Not recruitment,” the agent next to you purred, and you froze. “Have you ever heard of CP-0, Roronoa Zoro? Of course you have. You were at Enies Lobby, weren’t you?”

You stiffened at his words. You could see Zoro trying to figure out the secret meaning the man was taunting home with. 

Just leave, you begged silently. Please leave. 

But the agent sent to retrieve you was not finished burning bridges for you. “Your “crewmate” here isn’t a new recruit. No, they’re a seasoned veteran of the organization.”

Zoro stilled. Only his fingers twitched, itching to reach for his blade as he watched you with predator-like senses. 

“Zoro,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what to say, but you had to say something to him.

“Go. Get out of my sight.” You could see him shaking. From rage, most likely. From betrayal. 

The agent next to you gave a humorous laugh. “Do you think we are going to let you live?”

“We are letting him live,” you said, too quiet for Zoro to hear. “That was the agreement.”

The agent gave you a wicked smile. “He brought this upon himself, following you out here.”

“Let him go,” you snarled softly. “Or you will not leave this island.”

You had been baited. You knew it the moment his eyes lit up. Proof that your allegiance was to the Strawhats over CP-0. Proof that you needed to be reprogrammed in some capacity. 

He waved a hand lazily at Zoro. “You may go. We have to go as well. We have some work to do.”

You gave Zoro one last look, trying to convey how sorry you were about everything. He should’ve just stayed on the ship, read the damn letter, and accepted that you had left the crew.  

Your eyes met Zoro’s just for a moment, and then you turned away and followed the agent down the path. And as much as you wanted to, you didn’t look back. 

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Hi are your requests still open? If they are can I request the jealous and he’s mad , prompts on the Macaque master list??? Please and thank you 🙏🏻!!!

LMK Macaque: Jealousy.

Word Count: 1915.

Content/Trigger Warnings: pushy guy that can't take a hint.

Authors Notes: Here's the He's Mad request too ^^. (wip)

<---Previous | Masterlist | Next--->

There were a lot of things Macaque learned since his reincarnation, especially about himself. One thing he never thought would have to be that seeing men around you made his skin crawl. In the few months you've known each other, seeing you smile with someone that wasn't him made his skin crawl. Seeing you laugh and smile with someone else made his skin crawl, and seeing someone make physical contact with you made his fur stand on end, and he often found himself snarling with his tail twitching uncontrollably. 

Unfortunately for Macaque, a certain Monkey King had witnessed the snarling this time. Wukong smirked mischievously when he saw what had made his beloved friend so… primal. He studied Macaque closely as the male, he forgot his name, constantly flirted with you. Now, usually Wukong would have put the guy in his place for bugging you… BUT SEEING MACAQUE LIKE THIS WAS SO FUCKING HILARIOUS! 

The male in question was the one you went on a double date with, from what you had told Wukong, it was when you saw Macaque again. Did he get past his jealousy at how close you got to the other demon? Course not, but he eventually learned to get over himself since you seemed happy when you told him about what happened that day, and how your date went. 

Since then, Wukong and basically everyone else, but you noticed how possessive Macaque was where you were concerned, especially if you get hit on. 

Sooo… like right now. As you promised, you visited the noodle shop the first chance you got. You ‘just so happened’ to run into Macaque on the way there so you invited him to tag along and enjoyed small talk on the way there. What you didn't expect though was to see a familiar face, well, faces. One of them being Wukong, who was enjoying noodles and talking with MK, the other being your friend Sofia and her boyfriend Jeremy.

At first, you didn't acknowledge Sofia and her company sitting at a table, only focused on your belly as you ordered a nice big bowl of noodles that Pigsy was eager to get. Sofia was the one to acknowledge you first, waving you over, but you motioned for her to give you a minute.

Why is this tool here? Macaque thought to himself in annoyance, Wukong snickering silently when he noticed his old friend’s pout.

“Aren't you hungry?” you turned your attention to Macaque with a smile, taking account of his sour mood. “You okay, Mac?”

The nickname made his heart race for some reason, and he had to look away from you. After a few seconds, he offered you a simple nod before he too ordered a bowl of noodles.

“(Y/n)!” Sofia yelled at you over.

“I said wait!” you snapped at your impatient friend before carefully taking the delicious bowl of noodles. “I'll be right back,” you looked at Wukong and MK.

“Take your time,” Wukong grinned as MK too waved you off with a reassuring smile.

“Sorry,” you smiled at Macaque, “you can join us if you want.”

“You go, I'll be here,” he assured, not trusting himself to be close to the male and risk hurting him.

“Suit yourself,” you shrugged and walked over to Sofia’s table with your bowl.

He was being so obvious about it, but you were oblivious to it… or maybe you just didn't care? Who knows. With Macaque falling more into his animalistic side as the time went on, Wukong had entertainment to last him years. Growling and hissing quietly, everyone was expecting the guy to disappear when this was all over, if he was lucky enough to stay alive that long. 

The group all watched as you greeted Sofia, then looked at Macaque who glared daggers at the male who tried talking to you, then back to you. You weren't looking forward to talking to him again, so you tried to collect yourself the closer you got to the table, having no choice but to sit next to him and talk to Sofia who sat in front of you.

“What’s wrong, bud?” Wukong’s voice never failed to irk him. “Jealous that your pretty girl’s getting hit on?”

Something about you being called his girl made his heart race again, hearing it from Wukong felt like an acceptance he didn't know he craved. His eyes lingered on you for a while before Wukong leaned in front of him to see his face.

“You really gonna sit here and brood?”

“I'm not brooding, I don't brood,”

“Sure you don't, bud,” he patted Macaque’s shoulder and sat beside him again. “You better not disappoint me, ya know.”

“What are you talking about?” Macaque looked at Wukong with a raised brow.

“I've decided to give you a chance to be with (Y/n),” he stated as if it were obvious. “Don't make me regret it~” he glanced at you and the male who sat beside you. “You aren't gonna let some human guy take her from you… are you?”

“She doesn't want him,” Macaque brushed him off and turned to eat his noodles. 

“Oh yeah? And how would you know that, tough guy?” he raised a brow, curious about Macaque’s confident posture.

“You didn't see how annoyed she was with him that day,” he glanced at Wukong.

“People change,” Wukong sang teasingly as he got up in Macaque’s face. “Case in point, you're all in love~”

“Shut up, moron,” he shoved Wukong’s face away from him. “She's facing away from him, focused on her friend and not making eye contact with the guy.”

“Oh~” Wukong smirked teasingly, “you're really studying her while acting all cool and collecting,” he leaned into his ear. “But we both know that seeing her close to that guy is making your blood boil,.” his grin grew when he noticed the shadow under Macaque seemed to grow. “I'm proud though, way to work on your self-control, man.”

“Hey, did you get to see that new movie showing? I heard it’s really good,” the voice got their attention and they both focused on you. 

“No, I didn't get the chance to see it yet,” you said boredly before slurping your noodles. This would have to be the first time you acknowledged him since you sat down.

“We should go see it sometime, while it’s still showing,” Lin Shi, desperate determined to get a second date out of you, suggested with a smile. 

“No, thanks, I'm good,”

“Why not?” he tilted his head and leaned in close to see your face. “Didn't you like our last date?”

It was infuriating. You thought to yourself, but chose not to respond.

“C'mon, lay off man, she's not interested,” Jeremy said, but was ignored.

“One chance,” he said softly with a smile he thought was charming.

“Don't want to,” you glanced at him. “Like ever,” you added, but it was clear he didn't know when he was beaten.

“C'mon, one night won't hurt anyone,” he chuckled softly, attempting to touch you but he couldn't move.

“You'd be surprised,” Macaque snarled, finally cutting in, using his ability to secure Lin Shi by his shadow. “She said she doesn't want to go with you,” Lin Shi looked at Macaque with a raised brow.

“I wasn't talking to you, monkey boy,” he said and motioned for him to beat it. “Now move before I make you.”

“Are you challenging me?” Macaque chuckled in amusement. 

“Macaque, don't,” you warned, trying to avoid a fight.

“Better listen to her, wouldn't want to hurt you too bad,” he glared at the dark themed primate.

“Lin, cool it, man. Don't go picking a fight,” his friend, Sofia’s new boyfriend, tried to calm things down before they escalated.

“Trust me, you don't want to pick a fight with him,” you warned, looking at Wukong with a ‘help me’ look, but he only smiled at you and gave an ‘oh well’ shrug. 

This damn bastard is just enjoying the show! You thought to yourself in annoyance. I'm gonna thump him when this is over!

“You think I'm afraid of some monkey demon?” He laughed a bit, his red eyes making an appearance and took you both by surprise. The lack of shock from Jeremy and Sofia made it clear they already knew he was a demon. 

Seeing someone’s true colours really is something to behold… you thought to yourself as you watched Shin. 

“Oh ho, so you're a demon too, huh?” Macaque tilted his head a bit, clearly amused. 

“What of it, emo boy?” Lin Shi glared.

“Oh boy,” you mumbled.

Before Macaque could react, you did something that shocked everyone, Wukong and MK’s jaw dropped as you grabbed him and kissed him like your life depended on it. It was rash, but it calmed him down real quick. You slowly pulled back, looking at him as his face flushed darker.

“Not how I thought our first kiss would happen, but I’ll take it,” he winked and grinned one of his infamous cocky grins when he collected himself. Now it was your turn to blush, you were quick to look away from him and look at the shocked group in front of you. 

“You're actually with that freak?” he asked in disgust, you were about to give him a piece of your mind for calling Macaque a freak, but the six eared Macaque rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Yes she is,” he said with confidence that made you blush. The aura that surrounded him darkened, his gaze turned sinister and made the guy stumble back, tripping over himself. “So beat it and leave her alone before I make you regret it.” he glared at Shin before he stiffly smiled. “Are we clear?”

“Yeah, we’re clear” he nodded vigorously, lips quivering.

“Beat it,” he ordered, “before I show you what I can really do.”

You all watched the terrified demon bolt out of the noodle shop, tripping over himself to get away. You've never seen someone run as fast as Shin did.

That was kinda hot… you thought to yourself as you looked up at Macaque from the corner of your eye.

I'm never going to be able to live this down… he thought to himself when he got a glimpse of Wukong’s mischievous, shit eating grin, but then focused on Sofia and her boyfriend.

“You're that puppet guy, aren't you,” Sofia asked knowingly. 

She's a sharp one. He thought to himself as he folded his arms.

“Yeah,” Macaque nodded.

“And the date you went on…?” she trailed off as she looked at you.

“Yep…” you said awkwardly. “With him.”

“You had a boyfriend… AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!” she snapped, making you flinch even though you thought you were prepared for it.

“We’re not really… dating yet…” you rubbed your fingers together sheepishly.

“Yet, huh?” Macaque smirked at you, making you glanced at him once more, but quickly looked away.

“Well…” you blushed and refused to look at him. “I didn't go out with you for nothing…”

“Well then,” he looked down at you with a grin, “wanna go see that new movie that started showing?” 

“Yeah,” you managed a smile when you finally looked at him. “I'd like that…”

“Finally!” Sofia’s loud voice made you jump a bit as she grinned that grin you didn't trust. “I finally have someone to embarrass (Y/n)!”

“Oh gods no…” you mumbled, blushing as Macaque simply grinned and enjoyed it fully.

[artbyblastweave]

Heroify: Kingpin

Compared to some of the other characters people have sent in today this is like shooting monkeys in a barrel!

Part of the reason Fisk is such a good Daredevil villain is that he's already got a lot of the basic elements you need to make a street-level hero work- the will, the drive, the protectiveness, the territoriality, and the quote-unquote "badass normal" peak human fighting ability that, let's not fuck around here, is absolutely a superpower even if the chickenshit writers won't directly admit to that. It's just that he uses those abilities to be a crime boss rather than to fight crime bosses. To put himself in charge of his childhood bullies instead of fighting his bullies. A classic case of "If only he'd used his immense capacity for interpersonal violence for good." What would make him stand out from all the other heroes in his niche is his propensity for Empire-building, his complete inability not to build up some kind of organization from scratch, and what that impulse might look like in a superheroic context.

I'm imagining that his initial schtick is that of a Bully Hunter. After getting ripped and wiping the floor with his childhood bullies-or maybe this is one of the versions who offed his own father for beating on his Mother- he embraces the specific high of the "pick on someone your own size" routine, and he becomes The Big Man, the guy you go to when you need somebody who's been getting away with something for a while cut down to size. Upstairs neighbor is beating his wife and kid senseless, and nobody does anything because his brother's a cop? Call The Big Man. Real Estate Baron's using his connections to try to muscle out the residents of a tenement? The Big Man's gonna pay them a visit. Boss at the diner's withholding your paychecks and getting away with it because you're undocumented? You get where this is going. He usually doesn't kill people- not out of any particular code, but out of a combination of pragmatism and sadism. He's smart enough to engineer situations in a way that he can claim self-defense or frame someone's tumble down the stairs as an unfortunate accident or rely on the unexamined illegality of whatever his target was doing to prevent them from getting the police involved. He's got a bit of a financial cushion, as well, because all of this is actually his side gig- he's still a very successful, if not as cutthroat, local businessman, because hospitalizing domestic abusers doesn't pay the bills. As a power move, he does most of this under his own name- he's got a "costume" in the form of the distinct suit, and a nominal codename, but part of the bit, part of the point he's making, is that he's slightly better at weaseling out of the consequences of his actions than the people he targets. Always a bigger fish, after all. Power is relative. His thematic niche is distinct from Daredevil's abstract sense of idealized justice. It's not Frank Castles mechanical eye-for-an-eye approach. It's about the satisfaction of leaving a certain category of wrongdoer alive, so that they can remain very, very afraid.

Of course, since his entire bit is that he keeps putting untouchable assholes in fullbody casts, the attempts on his life start stacking up- First it's Ed the domestic abuser and his buddies from the bar coming around for a rematch, and then goon squads, then hand ninjas, then low-rent supervillains- and because The Big Man toes the line of being an actual superhuman, he's usually winning these things, and coming out ahead in the PR game for beating down a bunch of costumed thugs attacking his Perfectly Legitimate Art Gallery- but it's a pain that his office keeps getting firebombed. And this is where you start to reap the benefits of having done under-the-table favors for hundreds of people all over New York- The Big Man has a network now. The Big Man knows guys who knows guys, some of whom owe him favors, some of whom are just really afraid of him coming back for round two. The Big Man can pull together a hundred guys with crowbars and hammers on a day's notice, if he happens to need something like that. If he doesn't know someone with a backdoor into Tombstone's fortified penthouse or Hammerhead's mansion, if he doesn't know someone with incriminating information on Silvermane or Norman Osborn, well. He knows their cousin. And once he thinks to begin leveraging this? If the people escalating things have specific addresses, by the end of the week they very likely don't.

It's not as if he eliminates all criminal activity. He's not even interested in doing so. Like half the painting's he's selling are really convincing forgeries. But things hit a point where there's simply a hard practical limit on how imperial a supercriminal's ambitions in New York can become, how domineering, how visible to the man on the street, before The Big Man decides it's time to make a point and starts calling people, who in turn start calling people.

[kyrithenerd]

JASPER HALE HEADCANONS 2

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

I can see him being really into Arctic monkeys, HIM and Chris Isaac.

He feels terrible about the civil war and what happened with Maria and is often depressed about it.

He's also very insecure about his scars and bite marks. He doesn't wear anything that shows them around anyone except you and some of the Cullens.

When you two first started hanging out he was constantly asking Rosalie for advice, and still does when he runs out of gift ideas.

Had a phase where he tried wearing contacts to blend in more but it irritated his eyes enough to stop.

Gets really overwhelmed in crowded spaces bc he feels everyone's emotions, so he's not the concert buddy.

He still goes to festivals with you, but that's bc he loves you and not the festival in itself.

Has a huge vinyl connection.

Misses the 60s-80s A LOT.

He thinks a lot about what would happen if he lost you, and he can't see himself.

He secretly thinks Tanya is very annoying and foolish for being into Edward like that.

He's part of the school paper.

Reads a lot of books and often compares your relationship with fictional couples.

"You know darlin', I love you like Gatsby loved Daisy"

"Honey, you're my Nastenka" and so on.

Has a private library bc he can and why not.

I can see him fighting in one or both of the world wars (on the side of America, obviously)

He's big on geography and visited every country, collecting fridge magnets from everywhere.

He hated Bella at first but won't admit it bc of the Cullens. He also didn't understand why Edward was so open with her.

Mythology fanatic.

Didn't take P.E. for a long time bc of his bloodlust.

Isn't a fan of Spanish bc of Maria.

He has awful short term memory but an incredible long term one

HELL OF A DANCER. I mean really, he knows every famous dance from every decade he was alive for.

Was a hippie at some point (he doesn't like to talk about it)

Got his motorcycle license taken away a few times for going over the speed limit.(He wasn't putting anyone in danger tho)

Is addicted to energy drinks.

"Hun, I can't have a heart attack, my heart is not beating .... You can make it race tho-"

His fav monster is the violet one and his favorite hell is black cherry.

Can't say tongue twisters, blames it on his accent.

In over a century he never learned how to drive a car, bike guy till the grave.

Still has horses and rides, breeds and cares for them as a hobby.

He's very good at archery, both from shooting while in the saddle or not, he doesn't miss his target.

Got canceled on Twitter for saying that pineapple belongs on pizza.

Despite his tasting being mostly gone from being a vampire he loves Italian and Greek food!

Cracks his knuckles loudly to annoy people

Writes a diary.

He actually has a pretty good handwriting bc he studied calligraphy.

Loves Victorian poems.

He's a little sad that he missed victorian Europe for the wild west.

Writes his own books but never publishes them bc he's afraid of judgment.

He has self-image issues. He often compares himself to Emmett and hates how lean he is. Even if deep down knows he can't change that now it bothers him no matter how much you tell him that he's perfect.

Takes a bath every day despite the lack of need for him to actually do it. He just likes the hot water.

He sings and acts surprisingly good! He played in musicals too.

Knows people like Stephen King personally.

He's a DiCaprio over Pitt type of guy.

He watches the titanic with you every time you want him to

Collects real swords from all eras and all around the world.

He doesn't like Taylor Swift but listens to her with you if you want him to.

Loves when you get your nails done for some reason.

Played the "get Rick Rolled" meme w/ Emmett for months.

He loves classical music but instead of being Debussy obsessed like Edward he's more of a Puccini person.

Actually calls Carlisle and Esme mom and dad instead of their names.

Unbeatable at Monopoly

OKIII THAT'S ALL FOR TODAY!

I'd like to apologize for being inactive in these past days, I have a school play/ dance (basically English waltz) we have to do and it's consuming me so excuse my absence! My requests are still open so feel free to ask me anything<3

[projectaffectivity]

Turtle Con 2025 Information from Ciro! There's some TMNT stuff in here too.

Disclaimer: Ciro was on 3 hours of sleep and said that he has not watched the show in a long time and does not remember things. He joked that when he rewatches the episodes then he can answer questions. I asked if he was gonna do an AMA and he didn't answer.

Character Heights, he gave some numbers but it was more spit balling than serious

Chiro: 4'10"

Regular Jinmay: "a little bit shorter than that"

Giant Jinmay: 120 ft

Monkeys: 1'6" is still reasonable

Skeleton King: 7 ft

Alchemist: 6 ft

Super Robot: 125 ft

Is Krinkle alive?

"I like to think so".

Does he know of any figures from the Hasbro toyline that where scrapped/unreleased? or just unreleased merchandise overall.

He mentioned the Fist Rockets, maybe saw a prototype for the Brain Scrambler, and the Super Robot. I think he was aware of Slingshot and Skeletal Droid.

He owns some of the prototypes of the figures, but not all.

Were there any other voice actors he considered to voice the monkeys before he settled on the finalized voice cast?

Joey Adams was who voiced Nova in the pilot and he liked her, but doesn't exactly remember the reason why she didn't end up Nova. He thinks it's because she became unavailable due to her being in a movie.

He actually asked me if I saw the pilot first, so I think he is aware the pilot is up or just didn't think it mattered if it was.

Was Lords of Soturix 7 originally supposed to be a season 1 episode?

His initial answer was no, but when I asked about the contradiction of him learning to use the Inner Primate after Hidden Fortress/Skeleton King, he said he does not remember and would need to fact check.

Were any episodes that changed order like they were originally supposed to be in a certain spot but ended up moved?

He doesn’t know or remember, but he mentioned that some episodes didn’t really matter if they changed the order of.

"It's been years".

What does Ciro remember the most about working on SRMTHFG? What was the most memorable/fun/enjoyable part of working on it for him?

He said he remembered it being really hard 😅 He also mentioned how he worked to get the budget up to 262k per episode and how he had to work double time to make things work.

The most memorable/fun/enjoyable part was living in Japan for the first season of the show.

Art book/Behinds the scene information?

An artbook would probably be impossible because of Disney

He has a lot of art and stuff he could potentially put up, but he doesn't have a lot of time.

Was Jinmay one of the robots that The Alchemist managed to build with his workmates or is there another mastermind with the same purposes?

No, another mastermind was behind Jinmay. He seemed pretty definite that Jinmay wasn’t built by the Alchemist.

Was Chiro's early days with the monkeys ever a planned storyline that never padded out?

He just responded that it sounds interesting, so it sounded like it wasn’t particularly planned

Does Mandarin or Antauri have an inner primate form like Chiro does? Since we never see them use it in the show.

He actually said that we sort of saw it for Antauri when he sacrificed himself in I, Chiro.

He mentioned it would be interesting to see for Mandarin and also the rest of the monkeys.

How much time did you have to revamp the show from the pilot to the completed version?

He said they rolled right in.

Did he have any influence on the season 1 finale of Earthspark and if SRMTHFG would have followed something similarly?

No, he was mostly brought in as management and was already gone when they got that far. He didn't have much to do with it.

How did the show switch from flash animation to traditional animation?

He didn't want it to be flash and switched it and he got in trouble for it.

Is there an IP you would like to work on?

Evil Dead.

Was Valeena always planned to be such a prominent villain in season 4?

No, I don't know, it's nice to have someone to talk to.

Clarification on Antauri's transcendance on touch, taste, breath, temperature.

"He's not a full robot". He's elevated to a different state.

"Maybe, guess not, not in a normal sense".

Does Antauri miss those sensations?

Ciro looked like he was thinking very hard over it.

"He's beyond all that. He doesn't need a physical body to feel".

Were there any ideas for Mandarin that wasn't used?

No, he has a "complete arc". You would have to see more through flashbacks.

Does he know about the sacrifice theory?

No.

After I explained it to him, he said it sounded interesting and cool, but not real.

He's not familiar with other fan theories.

Was there any more lore on the Beings that chose Chiro and Skeleton King/created the Dark Ones engaged in cosmic good vs evil war or was that going to remain a mystery?

No, they didn't get to it.

Are Chiro's parents currently in Shuggazoom City?

No, they're not in the city.

It's hard to say if they're on the planet.

Did the Verons and Ah-fei understand the monkeys pre-translator?

No, they didn't need to speak.

Are there regular populated cities on Shuggazoom other than Shuggazoom City?

Yes.

Don't need to explore all the cities; Shuggazoom City represents it.

What are the monkeys' thoughts towards the Alchemist before memory erasure?

They liked him and thought of him like a father.

Did the monkeys know the Alchemist was turning into Skeleton King and that they would have to fight him?

No, they did not know they were going to fight him.

What was up with Weird World of Wyrm? (2k12 TMNT episode that was basically Meet the Wigglenog)

Brandon did it. They were super busy and they both loved Meet the Wigglenog and wanted to do it better and so did it again.

What is his favorite character to draw?

For TMNT: He said the turtles are fun, but he's drawn them so much. Splinter is nice.

For SRMT: Otto and the Super Robot.:

Why didn't they make a musical episode?

He said that sounds like a season 5 episode, but it sounded like a joke haha.

Why were numbers added to celestial bodies? Does Shuggazoom have its own system for naming them or was it developed elsewhere?

I don't know. It's to sound cool.

Why do the monkeys have breathing gear underwater but nothing in space?

Well, they can't have water in their lungs...

But they can have nothing in space?

He was exasperated and said he was in his 20s when he made the show and that these were riddles, not questions.

So they can breathe in space but not underwater???

He joked that was correct.

Which was your favorite episode to direct and write?

I, Chiro maybe.

Other:

The two Mandarins in The Grip of Evil was a mistake.

Chiro wears a mask.

Nothing was cut out of the show during production due to Disney.

Nova's name was inspired by the star, but not specifically. Don't know if "Nova star" is in that universe.

Otto's name just suits Otto. He said it was a sound thing.

The monkeys are able to use each others' weapons.

2k12 TMNT was supposed to be 2D, but Nickelodeon made it CG and CG wasn't at the level Ciro wanted yet.

He's hoping he can do a backdoor thing for a monkey team sequel.

He views all the companies he worked for as the same.

Antauri is drinking sprite from his soda hat and it's a gag to not be taken seriously.

[weirdsht]

My Beautiful Stranger, My Soulmate - Cale/Fem! Reader

notes: for some reason i have a thing for continued love, maybe the reason why i'm single is because my soulmate is in another timeline/dimension /hj ... anyways this was the fic that i've wanted to write for the longest time but had no time for hehe

tags: female reader, novel spoilers (KRS' past and some war stuff), angst? not sure, continued love-esc, told in Cale's pov, one-sided admiration, strangers, Cale is whipped, mentions of abuse

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Everyone wants to have something constant in their life. Something that would keep them grounded. Something that would give them a sense of normalcy when everything else feels crazy. 

For most, a person will be their constant and their pillar. Choosing a loved one in their life that supports and cares for them. Just someone they can go through during the tough times in their life.

Kim Rok Soo’s case is the same… for the most part, that is.

The difference that sets him apart from the average person is the fact that his constant person is a stranger.

He knows what she looks like. Knows her mannerisms. Has seen her for almost his entire life.

Yet he doesn’t know her name. Doesn’t know what her speaking voice sounds like. Has never had a personal interaction with her. 

Is this considered to be a type of parasocial relationship? Maybe, but Rok Soo can’t be bothered to find out.

Kim Rok Soo’s first interaction with his constant was when he was a child. During the short while of his life where he was happy, complete. When his loving parents are still alive. That was the first time he saw her.

It was during daycare. The daycare is separated into morning and afternoon sessions. His parents had enrolled him for the morning sessions.

At first, he didn’t want to go. Even as a kid he had preferred the peace his house could offer compared to socializing with the outside world. But alas, it wasn’t like he had a choice, his parents had already enrolled him so he had to go. Plus either way, he has to attend school sooner or later.

That’s why he goes, albeit reluctantly. He participates in whatever antics the teachers/caretaker does even when all he wants to do is go back home. For him, daycare was extremely tiring.

However, all that tiredness was wiped away when dismissal arrived. And no, it wasn’t just because he was excited to see his parents and go back home.

It was actually because of the girl he saw. She was a cute kid, wearing a cute dress with her hair tied in those typical twin-tailed hairstyles girls her age would have. Rok Soo didn’t see her in daycare so she must be part of the afternoon session.

Since then, he looked forward to attending daycare just to catch a glimpse of her during dismissal.

Unfortunately, Kim Rok Soo’s life took a turn for the worse at such a young age. Tragedy had befallen upon him. His parents died and his uncle is a piece of shit that hits children. It was no surprise that he had forgotten about that pretty girl in daycare.

The universe seems to not want him to forget though.

Because then why else would he see her again in the playground he runs to whenever his uncle's house is too much? Why else she be there when they were far from the town where Rok Soo attended daycare?

‘It must be fate’

That’s what little Rok Soo thinks to himself as he watches her and her friends play on the monkey bars. He just watches them from inside the castle fortress thing that no one ever uses. The sand underneath him served as his cushion.

Sometimes he wants to join, he wants to befriend her too. But he isn’t really one for moving around, for playing such physically tiring games. Even if he was, his injuries from his beatings are stopping him from doing so. Hence why he was content with playing with the sand beneath his feet while watching her laugh as she tried to not get caught by her friend during a round of tag.

Despite what Rok Soo says, his constant isn’t as steady in his life as he wants her to be. There are long periods of his life where he wouldn’t see her.

Which was why he was internally overjoyed when he saw her not only taking the same bus as him but also going to the same library. They seem to have the same schedule, and the same free time allocated for reading books in the library. The library and the novels they held were already Rok Soo’s safe space, his constant’s presence only made it more heavenly.

Kim Rok Soo knows that his constant doesn’t know who he is. Even if he remembers seeing her almost every day, in her perspective he was just a random, faceless stranger.

However, sometimes there are incidents where he would think otherwise. Is he being delusional? Absolutely, but who would call him out? The voices in his head? His already used to blocking them out.

One incident was after the day she didn’t go to the library. Rok Soo was a bit concerned as this was the first time she skipped her usual library session. The next day after that, someone had left a canned drink on his desk. It’s the drink she usually buys from the vending machine. As a matter of fact, Rok Soo had never seen anyone else pick that drink except for her.

So sue him for being delusional, but that was definitely from his constant.

When the cataclysm started, Kim Rok Soo was sure he would never see her again.

But the universe had other plans.

No matter what happens, fate seems to be pulling them together. Intertwining their destinies.

Kim Rok Soo should be happy and should be overjoyed that he gets to see her.

However, he isn’t.

In fact, he wished he hadn’t seen her.

For maybe then he could’ve lived in ignorant bliss.

“Hurry and go! I’ll hold things down over here!”

Rok Soo’s constant commanded firmly. This is the first time he has heard her speak, and god does she sound heavenly. However, this isn’t the time for this. The eclipse is still happening, barrage after barrage of monsters is still coming after every shelter.

Still, he can’t help but admire her for a second. She’s so strong, so cool, so put together.

He just wishes she hadn’t been so selfless.

The skinny man couldn’t help but hold onto the hem of his clothes. Staring at her as if begging her to come with him using his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You should go first, I’ll follow soon.”

Lies

Kim Rok Soo knows that she won’t be following them anytime soon. He is well-aware of the fact that after this the next time he would be reunited with her is in the afterlife.

That’s why he tries to convince her even though he knows he will ultimately fail.

Years passed after that and Kim Rok Soo never saw his constant again. How could he when she passed away? When she sacrificed herself for his sake and others.

Despite the accumulation of the time and people Rok Soo met, he never forgot her. He could never forget her. Sometimes he would just sit in silence, remembering how her voice sounded. Relishing the first and last words she spoke to him.

This did not change even after he became a team leader. As a matter of fact, the only change is that now he’s mourning for three people, instead of one.

His longing for her was strong. It did not disappear even after becoming Cale Henituse. He would still think of her despite turning over a new leaf, literally turning over a new life.

Cale longs to hold her again. This time not just the hem of her clothing but her hand. He wishes to have a proper conversation with her. Longs to ask her why she likes that canned drink that no one else drinks so much.

He longs to get to know her outside of the things he has observed. Wants to be the cause of her smile, and not merely watch others do it in his stead.

But alas, he couldn’t.

For not only is she dead, but his in another world.

Or at least that’s what he thought until he saw a familiar face standing up for him during the noble's meeting.

“Personally, I think we should just be grateful to Commander Cale Henituse. If it weren’t for him and his people then our kingdom would be in graver danger that we would not even be able to conduct such a meeting.”

She looked exactly how Cale remembered her. Her voice still has that same firmness in it, telling everyone in the room how she also wields power despite being younger than all of them.

“That’s correct young master. However, there are still some things that should be addressed. Such as that necromancer–”

“She has a name, it’s Mary. And she’s not a mere necromancer, she’s a revered hero of our kingdom. One of the people who had defended our kingdom from the Indomitable Alliance.”

Cale didn’t know he could fall deeper after all these years, but he just did.

“Due all respect my lady, but you are still young. I think your emotions are getting the best of you. Mind you that you are not even the heir of your household.”

The ugly noble tried to retaliate to which Cale’s constant only raised her eyebrows at.

“Oh my, how disgraceful… A noble pulling the age card just because his nearing his expiry age. Now forgive my disrespect, but you started it first… How dare you look down on me, the top 1% contributor to this Kingdom’s economy? I have built a name for myself outside of my family’s influence while all you have is your family’s standing. And emotional? Really? Of course, I’m emotional, the lives of our citizens are at stake and all you mongrels seem to care more about powerplay like the hungry bastards you all are. Is it because you’re not on the front lines? Is it because you think you can do what Commander Cale Henituse did? Then I dare you to do so at this very moment. Go to the frontlines and defend this kingdom you all claim to love very much!”

A deafening silence followed the young woman’s speech. Even Alberu had to take a double take. Everyone is tense, they don’t know what to say. Can’t refute what she said.

“I’m sorry for my outburst, Your Highness, Commander Cale. I simply cannot tolerate such disrespect when you are pulling most of the weight during these trying times. Please, let us proceed with our original agenda.”

Her poise never left her, even as she tore down every noble inside the room. Contrarily, the more she speaks, the more it looks as though she also possesses Dominating Aura.

At her insistence, the meeting got back on track. Most of the nobles were already silenced because of her, Alberu and Cale only had to deliver the finishing blow before wrapping everything up.

Once everything was done and settled Cale made plans to talk to his constant. Get to know her name, and finally interact with her. He knows that in her eyes his just a stranger. Someone who has no personal connections with her. But that doesn’t stop the redhead. He can always start forging their connection right here, right now.

He’ll do anything to not let her slip from his grasp once again.

And so the commander slithers his way towards where she is. He already had it all planned out; he’ll start the conversation by thanking her for standing up in Mary’s defence before asking for her name, and then he’ll let things flow naturally from there.

Despite running the simulations in his head, the only thing he could do once he was face to face with her was standing there. Face marred with shock and mouth unable to form words?

The cause?

Oh nothing much, it’s just because of her greeting.

“It’s nice to finally meet my beautiful stranger from Earth whose name I still don’t know. I’m [Name] [Lastname], may I know Commander Cale Henituse’s Earth name?”

[suguru-getos]

//fractures// geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 3

links 🔗: part one // part two

story summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through. the affection you’re forcing him through…

chapter summary: after getting a fever from the injury, geto calls shoko to treat you — however, he ends up being conflicted and bruising your psyche again with his words & actions. you, (sorta?) fight back this time though.

warnings: signs of abu$e, heavy degradation, mean mean mean MEAN geto, reader also gets mean by the end of it. fluff if you squint-,-

a/n: i'm just writing off this chapter for my funsies :3 but please it is such a 'dead dove do not eat' story so i'd suggest people PLEASE read it after heeding through the warnings ;) also, not beta’d 🤺✨

"its 100 degrees." manami sighs, taking the thermometer out of your mouth. a soft pout on your lips, "then do something to get rid of it, where is the anti-fever medication?" suguru raised a brow. after having your hand carved, it was obvious you would get a high fever. it was too much toll on your body. ever so evident anyway. "and some painkillers." you added, frankly you were still sweating in pain, it hurt. everywhere hurts. "the doctor will be here soon." suguru huffs, looking at manami dismissively, he can't really show that his heart is breaking apart for a good for nothing monkey after all. manami leaves with an eye roll. she felt conflicted too, geto's feelings were enabling everyone to think a little about their actions.

soon, shoko was here to heal you. she glanced at your form, you were beaten and bruised. eyes mingling with suguru, "she is a non-sorcerer." she commented, and raised a brow. "geto, I am surprised she is alive here" she hums, no expression on her face whatsoever. suguru doesn't respond, and neither do you. it did not help at all that she was amazed at something like that. after a second or two, you hummed, "cus he wouldn't get the money from my parents."

suguru's eyes widen, it- is it? is it the money that's making him act this way? no, money is never above his moral compass. the whole reason you're so tattered is because money doesn't matter. his resolve is just being tested, that's all. "shoko, don't heal her." suguru's jaw twitches, he doesn't want to do this but seems like he has to. "I want her worthless self to remember who she is even after she leaves, I want that shit to scar." he crosses his arms, looking at you with predominant hatred.

your heart sinks, you hadn't even thought about how it would feel… to see the grotesque mark looking in your hand for the rest of your life. monster, geto suguru is a monster.

tears well up in your eyes, shaking your head no rapidly. "please don't- please s' hurting too much-" you begged, hands reflexively gripping at his gojo-gesa. "no- no- g-geto? geto- sama" you answered again, while suguru notices how your body shivers in pain and drenched in sweat. "did I say you could touch me? you piece of shit?" a snarl echoed through the room, geto's hand raised to hit you but stopping, you were cowering, all small and flinching. just like his girls. hot and cold, his behavior has been hot and cold. one moment he was hugging you to calm you down, now, he's ordering shoko to let you suffer in pain. "if you touch me again, you filthy monkey, I will make sure to break every bone in your body and leave you handicapped in the basement to rot and starve." his jaw clenched, while you couldn't do anything but listen. you don't want to die anyway. "I'm sorry." you mumbled, heartbroken. six more days with him. your broken voice shoves him back into his senses, he is trying so hard to ensure that it doesn't happen - that he doesn't feel like killing himself, so he is uttering shit, whatever helps to balm his own brimming rebellion against his own thoughts. your eyes are still kind, its just the way they are, you still can't look at him with anything except a silent plea for mercy.

"I think I should heal her, else she would die of an infection." she holds your wrist, a drastic change in your body immediately felt when she began to heal you. your internal injuries, popped lip, the carving, the cumulative blinding pain of it all fading away into nothing. geto only stands still, watching the way your creased brows turn softer, how your pained face turns neutral.

"thank you." you mumbled at shoko, and she smiles. "I don't know why he's got you kidnapped like some third grade movie's villain, but we have another certain someone who can save you perhaps." suguru raises a brow at shoko, the audacity was impressive. she leans back, watching the glimmer of hope in your face. her hand lands onto geto's shoulder, squeezing it firmly. "she's a human, didn't you say picking on the weak was not a good thing geto?" suguru rolls his eyes, gently pushing her away. "leave." he commands instantly, while shoko smiles at you, "see you, ne? y/n san!"

you were curious, who was this other person that she could send to help? then again, you're not sure if anyone could help you against this monster in front of you. suguru sighs, the way he speaks to you torments him more than it could ever torment you. which in-turn, makes him try harder to reach a state where he DOES NOT, feel this pathetic after abusing you. so? he mumbles again. "I wonder if you worked like a stripper mm?" you blinked, unsure where this was coming from. no, you weren't a stripper. you waited for him to continue whatever he meant to say. "I mean you certainly look the part, perky boobs, are they fake or real?" your face pales, so far geto has harmed you but nothing was remotely sexual, this turn makes you want to throw up. the expression of sheer panic on your face isn't gone unnoticed by him. he wants to stop, he wants to make sure he never says something like this ever again. then again, he just needs to 'kill' this kind, and caring part of him anyway. "maybe next time I can carve your insides up with the knife, leave you bleeding if you ever try to touch me again. since you want me so bad anyway?" you shake your head no, like a forced obedient pup in training. he was horrifying, absolutely fucking disgusting and every part of you wished he was dead.

to suguru… though, these were all just words. maybe now you will stop looking at him with hidden expectations that he would be kinder, nicer. more tolerable… you don't deserve that, monkeys don't deserve that!

"you will get your lunch and dinner here, don't move or I will chain you with your hands tied up and let my girls practise boxing on your pathetic rag of a body." christ, he was fucking insane. your mouth couldn't help it-

"you utter so much shit just because you're capable of killing me? maybe you're a frustrated eunuch, clearly looks from that disgusting, vomit inducing face. I hope you're killed like the dog that you are, impaled on something sharp since that's all you could ever think of, bastard." you widened your eyes after these words left your mouth. dead. you are to be dead.

suguru is stunned. "this is what happens when pets like you aren't trained well. as soon as the pain is gone, your mouth is on again hmm?" he's amused, you clearly can't do anything to him. still… your words… hurt. why do they fucking hurt? are you important to him? certainly not-

"mutts sleep on the floor." he yanks you outside the bed, throwing you on the marble floor and leaving.

six more days… and he will have you gone.

six more days, and you will never see the fucking bastard.

[hannsluvely]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three

chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.

his pov;

"Your wanted poster."

Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.

I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"

"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"

"Did he kill people?"

"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."

"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"

"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.

"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."

"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."

"But why?"

"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."

"All because of him?"

I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.

"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."

"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.

"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."

"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"

"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."

She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."

"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."

"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."

"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.

"We're good." She shook it.

I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.

"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."

"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."

Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"

"Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."

"What happened?"

I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."

If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."

"And?"

"I swallowed it whole."

She gasped, "And you're alive?"

"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."

"Did you get a power from it?"

I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."

"You can fly?"

"Ha! Nope."

"Read minds?"

"It's body-altering."

"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.

"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"

"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.

"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"

"Even... ya know?"

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."

"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"

"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.

"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"

"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."

I cringed. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."

I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"

"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."

"Meet your mom?"

"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."

"Will you, at least, consider it?"

"Sure," I smirked.

"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."

"Bye," I murmured with a smile.

As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.

Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.

I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.

If she saw this, I would kill myself.

I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.

I looked over the first paragraph,

'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'

I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.

I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.

Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.

I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.

But right now?

I needed to go get another coat.

-=-

her pov;

My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.

She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.

She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.

I grimaced at the thought.

Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.

With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.

My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.

Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.

I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.

I looked around, admiring everything.

As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.

I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.

"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."

"No worries, I'm only teasing."

"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.

"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.

"Dinner? Are you available?"

"Hmm, it depends. What time?"

"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.

"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.

"So? Can you?"

"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"

I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"

"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."

The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.

I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."

"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."

I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."

Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."

The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.

I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"

"What's on the menu?"

"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."

"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."

"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.

"Oh, so it's yours now?"

"No?" I gulped.

Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."

"No, I like this one."

The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.

A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.

I couldn't imagine him without it.