#he's in iceburg's shirt pocket

[rainflare60]

Late Night Water 7 Sketches ⛲

What's one thing to do when comfort is needed? One Piece characters in bright colors!

I've recently finished watching the Water 7 arc, but it's my favorite by FAR. The emotions, characters, and humor are on point!

What's your favorite arc? 👒

[jintaka-hane]

Put the goggles on

Masterlist

Two idiots who don't dare to make the move

🥽 Paulie and you have been dating for three months.

🥽 A year ago, you were hired by Galley-La Company as an accountant to assist Iceburg in financial management. As part of your professional responsibilities, you had to meet with different foremen every 15 days to evaluate the procured materials, their expenses, and how they influenced the company's financial performance.

🥽 The accounts with Paulie never added up, so you found yourself forced to see him more often, which allowed you to get to know each other better. Every time you met with him he would have a stupid grin on his face, and everyone around you noticed.

🥽Two bets were made behind your backs at the company. The first, that Paulie would fall in love with you and ask you out within a year. The second, that you would turn him down. 

🥽They got the first one right, but missed on the second.

🥽 Long before he even gathered the courage to invite you on a date, you could sense his interest in you from his nervous demeanor whenever you were near and the awkward way he expressed himself. You found his shyness endearing, but you were determined that if he wanted something with you, he had to gather the determination to ask for it himself.

🥽 When he finally gathered the nerve to ask you out, stumbling and blushing like a teenager, you thought he was incredibly cute, and knowing he's a good guy decided to give him a chance.

🥽 Now, you are in a sort of relationship.

🥽 Your dates are innocent, going for walks, dinner, or to the movies, him always treating you with respect and never crossing the line. At most, you've managed to hold hands without him fainting from the embarrassment. He's so in love with you that aside from the ropes he carries hidden in his clothes, he always reserves one for you, just in case you ever need his protection.

🥽 You've never had any problems with showing your body, but knowing him, you try to take it slow, always opting for simple clothes like long jeans, and T-shirts that cover your belly. You're confident that over time, he won't get so nervous.

🥽 He believes you're not dressing like this for him, but that it's truly your style, and he respects you a lot for it, thinking he's found his ideal woman.

🥽 The problem will come later...

🥽 The first kiss comes. You decide to take the step because you know if you don't, it'll never happen. At your doorstep, just before saying goodbye, you grab him by the jacket and press your lips against his. He turns completely red, his ears burning, and his goggles fogging up, but to your surprise, he responds quite well and goes along with you. However, he keeps his hands in his pockets while you're kissing.

🥽 As the days go by, the kisses become more frequent and linger a bit longer, but he never touches you more than, perhaps, caressing your cheeks. He wants to respect you as you deserve.

🥽 The problem is that you don't want him to respect you anymore...

🥽 This situation begins to frustrate him as well, and unconsciously, his mind starts to conjure scenarios he's ashamed of, situations where you do embarrassing things to him and vice versa... sometimes involving his ropes. He feels deeply guilty for his imagination, and in an exaggerated sense of extreme loyalty, he decides to save himself for you for when the time comes, refraining from... pleasuring himself. If you're a chaste goddess, he wants to be worthy of you.

🥽 You're not a chaste goddess and you're starting to grow impatient.

🥽 Days pass, and the man is like a damn pressure cooker about to explode. He's always tense and in need of relief as soon as possible, but he won't do it. For love, he won't do it.

🥽 You know him well enough to notice that he's under a lot of tension, especially evident in his increasingly frequent rough behavior with others (never with you). You decide to take a step to address it, and one night, before he leaves after the goodbye kiss at your doorstep, you invite him in. The invitation catches him by surprise; it's late, and it might not be socially acceptable for a man to enter a woman's house at that hour, but eventually, he accepts.

🥽 Entering the living room, you invite him to sit down while you prepare some beverages in the kitchen, giving him some time to get used to the surroundings. When you return with the drinks, you see that he has taken off his goggles and has seated himself at the far end of the sofa. You sigh and sit down on the other side. For a few seconds, you both look at each other.

🥽 He's deeply ashamed to even entertain such thoughts, but he feels an overwhelming desire to suddenly grab you, tear your clothes off, and take you on the couch. Yet, he's terrified that you'll see it as disrespectful towards you. He's convinced that if you're with him, it's because of how he behaves with you, and he fears that if he acts on his impulses, you'll think of him as nothing but a damn pervert. He doesn't want to lose you.

🥽 You're consumed by the desire for him to suddenly grab you, lay you down on the couch, and take you right there, but you're terrified of hinting at it and having him think you're easy, risking losing his interest. You don't want to lose him.

🥽 You both remain seated on the sofa, maintaining a safe distance, talking about uninteresting topics, without anything happening, in an awkward and uncomfortable situation.

🥽 In a moment of tension, he stands up under the pretext of going to smoke on the balcony, stepping out into the cold night with the hope that it will clear his head and provide him with some idea of how to approach you without scaring you.

🥽 You remain seated on the sofa, watching his silhouette in the balcony window, pondering how you can get closer to him without scaring him. And suddenly... an idea strikes you. Perhaps with him, instead of removing clothing, adding more might work! Determined, you grab his goggles from the table and put them on.

🥽 He prepares to enter the living room with a downcast expression, thinking he hasn't a clue how to approach you and fearing you'll become frustrated and leave him for someone more assertive. As soon as he steps into the room and catches sight of you, he freezes in place.

🥽  You're standing on the table, smiling broadly, with both hands on your hips. Looking at him, you say cheekily: "Look at me! I'm a foreman at Dock One! Specialized in rigging, knots, and masts. What do you need, sir?"

🥽  He stands there, gazing at you without moving for a few seconds, until gradually, a blush appears on his cheeks. A shy smile begins to form on his lips, slowly widening until it transforms into a hearty laugh. You find yourself laughing too, pleased that your ice-breaking idea has worked. Then, rushing towards you, he sweeps you up in his arms embracing you tightly, and kisses you passionately.

🥽  You return the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you feel his hands slide down your back beneath your shirt, caressing your skin. "At last!" you think to yourself.

🥽  With a determined move, he scoops you up in a bridal carry position as you gasp in surprise. "Where's the bedroom?" he asks, unable to separate his lips from yours.

🥽  "At the end of the hallway," you respond instantly, reaching for the goggles to remove them.

🥽 He swiftly grasps your hands to prevent you. "No, please..." he says with a mischievous grin on his face, "keep them on".

.

[justira-creates]

their backstory during Water 7 killed me. old comic from 2008.

tumblr absolutely murdered the image quality, much better quality on my AO3!

ID under the cut

[ID: A vertical, wordless comic without panel borders depicted entirely in blue ink on a white background, titled “Franky’s First Cola” with a small cartoonish speedo under the title.

Image 1 contains one large panel.

Panel 1: Iceburg and Franky are depicted at ages 12 and 16, respectively, in their workshop at Tom’s workers. Franky’s desk is scattered with doodles and blueprints for Battle Frankys. He is asleep on his drafting table, his pen in his hand, drooling, snoring loudly, depicted with a speech bubble of a log being sawed. Iceburg, his work area pristine, is glaring at him. The paper in front of Iceburg is blank; he's been completely unable to work due to Franky's loud snoring.

Image 2 contains four panels.

Panel 2: Iceburg, in profile, looks like he’s attempting to concentrate, head propped on one hand.

Panel 3: Franky continues to snore loudly, this time depicted with a speech bubble showing a buzzing bee.

Panel 4: Closeup of Iceburg’s eyes from the front, glaring to the side in Franky’s direction.

Panel 5: Overhead shot of their workstations, Franky still snoring at his messy desk. Iceburg’s neat desk has its chair shoved away, empty.

Image 3 has five panels.

Panel 6: Iceburg is checking the fridge, hand on one hip.

Panel 7: Iceburg yells to the residence in general that he’s going shopping, indicated with a speech bubble showing a stick figure of Iceburg receiving a bag of groceries in exchange for money.

Panel 8: Franky, miraculously and suddenly awake, pops around the corner, eyes wide.

Panel 9: Tom calls out that they need fish (cartoon fish in his speech bubble). He is holding a hammer, mid-job.

Panel 10: Kokoro says there’s a shopping list (speech bubble of a piece of paper indicating various food items). She is chopping carrots.

Image 4 has five panels.

Panel 11: Iceburg is on his way out the door, one hand on the doorknob and the other hand holding the shopping list in front of his face as he inspects it. Franky, much shorter, tugs on his shirt and says he wants to come with (speech bubble with a cartoon Iceburg with horns and a pitchfork and a grocery bag plus a cartoon figure of Franky)

Panel 12: Iceburg looks annoyed.

Panel 13: Franky looks stubborn.

Panel 14: Iceburg hunches his shoulders with a frown, looking put-upon.

Panel 15: Iceburg calls over his shoulder that Franky’s coming with him (speech bubble with non-devilish cartoon Iceburg and shopping bag plus a cartoon Franky with horns and a pitchfork)

Image 5 has three panels.

Panel 16: Kokoro, offscreen, yells that Franky needs to put on shorts (speech bubble with an angelic cartoon Franky plus a pair of shorts). Franky is still holding onto Iceburg’s shirt, looking in Kokoro’s direction. Iceburg, one hand still on the doorknob, is looking down at where Franky is holding onto him and frowning.

Panel 17: Franky yells back at Kokoro that he’s going in his speedo, shaking his fist (speech bubble with speedo and multiple exclamation marks). Iceburg has put the shopping list in his mouth and is attempting to detach Franky from his shirt.

Panel 18: Kokoro, still offscreen, throws a pair of shorts in Franky’s face (speech bubble with shorts and many exclamation marks), causing Franky to fall over, still attached to Iceburg’s shirt, and take Iceburg down with him. Iceburg yells an drops the shopping list from his mouth as he's falling.

Image 6 has a divider followed by three panels

-- a divider of alternating cartoon speedos and shorts --

Panel 19: Iceburg is carrying a bag of groceries. A little behind him, Franky is kicking a rock, wearing shorts and looking dejected, hands in his pockets.

Panel 20: Iceburg frowns back at Franky, looking thoughtful.

Panel 21: Closeup of Franky pouting, in profile, hands in his pockets.

Image 7 has three panels.

Panel 22: Closeup: Iceburg’s gaze slides to the side.

Panel 23: A wooden hanging sign saying COLA, read vertically, with a dark bottle of cola next to the word.

Panel 24: Closeup of Iceburg’s lower face, just visible above the bag of groceries. He is smiling ever so slightly.

Image 8 has two panels.

Panel 25: A faded wider shot of Iceburg, facing away from Franky, handing a cola back to Franky, behind him. Franky’s body language indicates he’s taken aback. In the faded style, they lack facial features.

Panel 26: A faded closeup shot of Iceburg’s hand, holding the cola, and Franky’s hand reaching for it, about to grasp it and take it.

The word "End" is at the bottom.

/end ID]

[ladycrocy]

Cutting a deal - Part 3

Doflamingo X Crocodile

Summary: Doflamingo has need of resources that Alabasta has to offer. He decides to visit Crocodile to extend a partnership. Of course, this deal is more than what meets the eye. Though, he could never truly pull the wool over on Crocodile's eyes.

Content Warning: Suggested sexual themes. Vulgar language. Mostly banter.

AO3

Word Count: 2400

The newspaper had a lot to say the next day. 'Desert Dual or Love Tangle? Croc and Doffy spotten in steamy confrontaion.' This was just the tip of the iceburg for Crocodile. He could still taste that birds blood on his tongue as he bit into his cigar. It even mentioned that Doflamingo had called Crocodile his 'bride'. One thing was for sure, if there were to be roles in this fantasy relationship, Doflamingo would be the bride!

The warlord let out a gutteral growl and slammed the paper onto his desk. He stabbed it with his hook and rubbed his temple. Why was he thinking of asinine things like that? The large man tilted his head to the side with a loud crack. There had been times when this reptile had let his anger flow off of him like a river. A river that turned to blood in the end. This stunt was almost too much for him to take.

'What have I done to gain so much attention from this lunatic? We have only met in passing a few times at the meetings, right?' These thoughts were the only thing on his mind as he pulled another cigar from his pocket. He clipped the tip of it and placed it in between his lips. Before he lit it, he rolled it around, getting it wet and let the flavor soak into his tongue.

If he never saw that stupid pink feathered idiot, it would be too soon.

Months of glorious silence. The gifts had completely stopped. It was a good time for Crocodile. His plans were coming together with Alabasta and baroque works. He was getting closer to finding the secret weopon of history, and nothing seemed to be getting in his way.

The silence was a blessing. He could live just fine without Doflamingo, but living with him was... It's like a guilty hobby. It requires a lot of time and patience. Something he didn't always have to spare. The sand warlord is rather busy, all things considered, and didn't need his work constantly interrupted over some bird dick.

Meanwhile, Doflamingo had been busy himself. He had not forgotten Crocodile. No, his obsession was still alive and well. Every time the sandman's face appeared in the paper, Doflamingo took the time to relieve himself. This unhealthy obsession had even been a driving force to get his plans in order. Dressrosa, weapon trade, smile fruit production, and the many other endeavors the warlord had going on. Finally, he had come across a reason to visit his Wani again.

Doflamingo showed up in a red suit with a black button-up shirt. He even left his pink feathered coat on the Numancia Flamingo, knowing that it always seemed to irritate the reptile further. Once he had arrived, it was the same as before. He awaited to have himself let it by Miss All Sunday. Still, he knocked before entering, just to add a little extra care to his visit.

Crocodile was pouring himself a small glass of expensive whiskey at his desk. Nothing to get drunk over, but a buzz sounded pleasant. His tired eyes lifted as the pink menace came marching in. Nevermind about the buzz. He poured the glass completely full now.

"Crocodile, I have come with another business proposal without my dick this time.Its about resourses that Alabasta might have that could come in hand for Caesar's research." There was no flirtation in his voice, no sarcasm, no... anything. It was as if he were just another businessman. His grin had long faded down to just a contented smile. "What would be an offer you deem reasonable?"

"Doflamingo..." The sandman never sounded thrilled to say his name. He took a long, much needed drink, enjoying the burn that traveled down his throat. "I was almost hopeful you'd found a new poor soul to stalk. It's been months after all. Pleasant, quiet months."

He's already looking at the man with pure accusation. He wouldn't be tricked again by a calm demeanor. Doffy's tru colors were far from this. "If I were to say, I'd suck you dick dry right now, you'd refuse and continue to focus on resources?" The raven haired man smirked as he lifted his glass to his lips once again.

Doflamingo's jaw moved as one does when they are reminded of their embarrassing moments in the past. He ran his fingers through his spikey blonde hair and let out a tired chuckle. "Wish I had the time for such pleasantries, but I would have to deline."He pulled out a small note pad and threw it over to land on Crocodile's desk right in front of him. It had resource names and amounts he would need for a certain time period.

"Three months constant for the first batch..." It was as if Doflamingo had no interest in Crocodile at all. "Then, to ensure the marines aren't sniffing around, we can cut it off for three moths. I will, of course, require that I have a representative stay here and ensure shipping is being done properly. I hope you don't think I don't trust you. You are anything, if not your word. It is merely insurance on my end." He crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knee, and then jumped a bit. "Oh! And it won't be me overseeing anything, so I won't be here at all. I just assume that would be one of your conditions." The blonde chuckled.

It was odd to see him like this. Doflamingo cracked his neck from side to side as he awaited an answer. He wasn't shifting any more than that. Normally, this man is an ADHD poster child. Right now, he looked like just another average guy trying to get a deal set up. "Well? What do you say, Crocodile?"

Crocodile gave a dull hum in response. So what if the other was behaving right now? A fancy suit and the ability to shut up wasn't going to change those evil roots. He hooked the notepad to drag closer as he drank. The resources were plentiful, of course, as he controls the land here.

"This will require a lot of manpower.. and hosting one of your own won't be free either." It was typical business in the making so far. That doesn't mean the reptile isn't absolutely weary of the fiend in front of him.

"First and foremost, I expect 60 percent of your earnings. You think I wouldn't recognize what you're creating with these elements? Weapons, in the plentiful, I might add. Second. All trading will come to a hault if I sense the government having suspicions. Nothing will cross waters until I deem it safe to do so. And you are correct. I do not want you to step a foot on my land. You will call if there are concerns. My schedule does not revolve around you."

He finishes the drink with ease before leaning against his own palm. "You almost look handsome with the more I drink. I suppose I should slow down. I've been told I have a sex drive like a beast, ready to devour his next piece of meat. I used to belong to the world's most ravenous lover. I nearly miss those filthy, chained up nights together." Crocodile teased. Why? Because it's entertaining. It was like some power kick, knowing what it did to the other man.

"Those are my agreements. Take it or leave."

Doflamingo listened intently as the man went on with his demands. They seemed reasonable, and 60 percent didn't mean much to him. Doflamingo was actually getting in the flow of the negotiation when all of a sudden, Crocodile's demeanor changed.

Doflamingo's mouth slightly dropped, and a pink hue hit his cheeks when Crocodile said he was almost handsome. But it didn't stop there. His little rant had Doflamingo swallowing hard and trying to keep his body in check. He couldn't let it fuck up his plans now.

Doflamingo cleared his throat and held out his hand to shake Crocodile's. "Seems like a reasonable request. Just don't expect that much yet. I still have to make the weapons. But once they are created, I will make sure that the profits will continue to flow." He pulled out a transponder snail and placed it on the edge of his desk. "This is my direct line. I won't be calling you with issues, you know how to run a business, but if you require something from me, you can just call me directly."

It was hard, keeping his composure. Imagining Crocodile's hook wrapped around the base of his cock as Crocodile sucks him dry with that irresistible look in his eyes. Doflamingo felt a shiver go down his spine, but he bounced back and tried to focus on the task at hand.

It's working, it must be. The reptile is certainly enjoying the entertainment in front of himself. He can see how Doflamingo is struggling to remain professional. For what reason? God knows, maybe he truly needed those weapons above his own sexual desires.

Crocodile smirked again. It's that devilish little grin that curves his lips.

Crocodile reached the hook out, willingly this time, and placed it against the other's palm. It's the most he'd be getting as a handshake. "Good boy," He mocks. Those words hardly above a whisper, but the bird would hear them loud and clear. "I will be calling in regards to beri. The rest will be handled under my intensive care."

He pulls another spare glass from his desk. The two are filled up with the spicy liquor, a drink that might even put Doffy on his ass, and soon slid one over to him. "It's good business to share a drink. This liquor is imported overseas. It's called Habushu. An Asian snake wine. I pray you can hold your liquor as you do your facades."

That smirk. Doflamingo was struck in the chest the same way he was when the same man drew his blood and made him swallow it. He wondered if Crocodile knew just how attractive he was. The 'good boy' comment had his brow line raised. What was happening? Doflamingo slowly sat back down and watched him pour the drink. His mind wandered again as he told him where the drink came from.

That smirk.. He visualized it perfectly. Crocodile looking up at him as Doffy slowly shoved every inch of his girth inside of him. It was so.. sadistic yet held its own level of pain tolerance. Crocodile was a man who wasn't afraid of pain because he could handle it. And that was what attracted Doffy to him the most.

Doflamingo took the glass and held it up to clink the glass to his. The clink feels the quiet room. "Much appreciated, Crocodile. One will be enough. I shouldn't have more than that, seeing as I have quite a few other plans I need to get started for production." He sipped the liquor, and it immediately shot him back to that kiss. As brief as it was, he tasted the smokey warm mouth of Crocodile. It had a hint of this flavor. Doffy smirked. Now he knew for a fact Crocodile was teasing him. So he did enjoy this game. He took a bigger sip, trying to feel the burn on his scars that he left him on his tongue. "This is one of the best drinks I have had in a long time. Perhaps I can get the supplier so I can order some for Dressrosa." Also, so he can have something to drink when he is thinking about him at night.

There's no doubt in his mind that Doflamingo was probably getting heated up. God, he could call that man a dog, and it'd have him excited.

Crocodile downs the booze more gracefully, enjoying every single sip and placed aside the empty glass. Plans? What was that bird brain up to? It's almost like he's preparing for a war or a take over. Figures. Every pirate demanded control.

Doflamingo watched him behind the protection of his glasses the way his lips touched the glass, and his tongue could be seen slightly as he swallowed. He turned away for a moment to gather his thoughts. This man had infatuated him. He finished his glass and set it on the desk quietly. He didn't even turn back. Instead, he saw the wani swimming in the tank. He also saw the one he had given him. Much smaller than the others. It brought on a smile.

"Perhaps." The raven-haired man agreed without really listening. His thoughts are elsewhere, something that made him curious.

His palm reaches out in a demanding manner. The tan skin is opened and welcoming. "Put that disgusting tongue on display."

Doffy was just about to turn and say something about the small wani when he saw Crocodile had laid out his palm. His request was.. out of character. It put Doffy on edge. He wanted nothing more than to bark and roll over for him. But his tongue is the only constant reminder he has of him. Something he gave him willingly. A scar. He rubs it all the time and thinks of Crocodile. If he put his tongue on display, who is to say Crocodile won't let him keep the one memory.

"I.. I don't think that is necessary for this type of meeting, Crocodile..." It took all the energy and willpower he had, but he stood up and gave a slight nod. "It was wonderful doing business with you.. good to see you again." He forced a smile and turned. He then walked out of Crocodile's office. Once out the door, he plastered that grin back on and jumped on his ship. He had a new deal set, and everything was turning out pretty alright.

Crocodile is already lifting his brow. "No?" Consider himself impressed over his self control. He doesn't ask again and rests down the palm. One of the first and only times he'd ask for physical touch. Now, there's no desire.

"Have fun jerking off to sand, Doflamingo." Is the most he bothers to say before kicking back to relax. Doffy might've restrained himself, but it's evident how excited their conversations make him. What a freak.

Doflamingo couldn't help but wonder if Crocodile would ever call him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Banner Creator

[cosmicrhetoric]

interesting that iceburg starts out in the manga with the mouse already in his shirt pocket while the anime included a scene where he picked it up and put it there. what could this mean 🤔

[mtwiind]

@celestiialnotes asked:

" What's your game ? Do you think we're stupid? " Door closed shut in the office, a new promotion for the young shipwright offered him a place for the paperwork necessary to keep the place running as smoothly as it could. To shoulder some of the responsibilities that burdened his mentor or conflicted with his schedule. A look of clear suspicion, eyes narrowed & gaze hardened, full of distrust as he stands before the newly reinstated shipwright. Blood nearly boils at the mere sight of him. C'mon Paulie, after all this time, this still bothers you?

" Why are you here? " He asks again. The reasons told by him upon arrival were good enough for Iceberg, but not to him.( Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice... ) His hand grabs at Kaku's shirt, rough as he pulls him in close. Bared teeth as his voice falls low. " Cause it can't just be y'got a cute little change of heart. " "Y'got some fuckin' brass balls comin' back here after what you did. With those... people, " the words drenched in a level of venom never spoken before by Paulie, " who fucked over Iceberg. Over Galley-La. Over me. He might've been nice enough to welcome your ass back, but think again if you think I woulda agreed to this. Here I thought that I finally got over your stupid face. Andof course you come back & just- " There's a slight... tremble in his grip, unable to hold the balled up cloth in his fist for long before he gives Kaku a light shove away from him. Paulie grunts, stuffing his hand deep into the pants pocket of his suit. Clenched teeth hold back the slew of thought angrily pushing against it. Finally though, he exhales the built up frustration & exasperation, letting shoulders droop just a little. Eyes fall downcast to the floor in front of Kaku's feet. " Show up tomorrow at 5 am. A second late & that second chance will be pulled out from under you before you can even spew out some half-assed excuse to anyone. " Eyes return to Kaku for a brief moment. Stepping back, Paulie turns away from Kaku, pulling open the door ( nearly pulling it off of its hinges when he swings it open, though not enough to let it hit the wall, best not to make a bigger commotion about it ) & walking out. "Wait 'til I'm out of the damn hallway. It ain't gonna be a chummy interaction if I see your face outside of work."

how could he think that this would have been so easy? yes, he knew that iceburg had been the one who let him come back initially, but the moment he heard the door slam behind paulie, kaku knew that this was going to be a tough situation for him.

"paulie i---" was all that he could get out before his shirt had been gripped and his person pulled in closer to hear what the other had to say. his heart was pounding in his chest over the hatred in paulie's eyes as he couldn't so much as look at him. and he was right, after everything that he pulled with the other members of cp9, he didn't think he would ever be welcomed back here so easily.

probation, that's what iceburg had said when he was reinstated to be a shipwright. he would have to go through a year of probation before he would get any of his trust back, if he ever got that trust back at all would be a miracle. he had to show up on time every day, do whatever the others told him without any backlash and if there was there would be consequences, severe is the word iceburg had used. this was more than kaku deserved and he knew it.

being pushed away, he regained his composure, though the beating of his heart still didn't subside, he didn't think that it would for a while.

sorry, i'm so sorry, was what he wanted to say at this moment, but he knew that those words weren't going to be enough, how could they be enough? he would just be saying excuses after such words anyway, and he knew that paulie deserved better than to hear such things right now. he couldn't say anything without it sounding like excuses, so he just kept his mouth shut and listened to what paulie had to say.

"5am, got it," was what he finally said as the other stormed out of the room, leaving kaku to his own thoughts. sitting down on the chair by the desk he put his head in his hands, wondering why he even came here to begin with.

[pokeharvest]

Can’t Wait for Saturday

Rating: General

Relationship: Frobin

For Week 3 of @frobinfandays FRobin Autumn 2020!

Word prompt: Company

Robin meets an interesting (yet handsome) stranger one day at work.

"Yes, Mr. Iceburg, I'll bring them right away." Robin hung up the phone and opened the drawer to the right of her. Her fingers skimmed across the tops of the files that were inside, only stopping until she found the forms she needed. Deftly, she pulled them out, closed the drawer, and began the journey to the boss's office. Her pumps were muffled as she strode down the long carpeted hallways, weaving her way through the first floor of the building. Standing before her was an elegant mahogany door with a sleek metal name plate simply reading, "Iceburg". Robin knocked lightly.

"Come in," a voice said from inside. Robin opened the door and stepped into the room. Iceburg sat behind his desk, hand raised to pet the mouse he kept in his shirt pocket. As usual, his hair was neatly combed and slicked, his clothes were crisp and stylish, and his workspace was neat and organized. One thing, however, was very unusual. A stranger sat across from Iceburg, clearly in a meeting with him that Robin didn't remember scheduling. The man had an insane blue pompadour, a tacky tropical shirt, and...no pants. Despite his unorthodox appearance, Robin couldn't help but find the man handsome.

(Read the rest of it on AO3!)

[pingo1387]

20COP, 1930s part 1

First few sections of the AU I’ve written. So far I’ve only completed parts to do with Franky and Brook, since I was trying to write the AU in chronological order and they’re the oldest. 

February, 1931

The Bronx, New York

The boy’s father—a tall man with an aura of kindness—held his son’s hand tightly as they approached the door of a nondescript apartment building. He absentmindedly hummed Binks’ Brew to himself as they walked.

“Where we goin’, Pop?” the child asked, shivering. His clothes had never quite been adequate for the colder times of the year, and hung loosely from his thin, copper frame, color so like his father’s. Of course, he was far shorter than his giant of a father, but if he had inherited any of his father’s genes, he would grow to be just as tall as him one day.

The man scooped up his tiny son and held him close, trying to keep him warm. “We’re going to see Mr. Crocus.”

“Mr. Crocus?”

“He’s my friend,” his father said with the patient air one adopts when talking to a toddler. “Be nice and remember your manners, Brook . . .” He hesitated before smiling. “Guess I don’t gotta tell you that, huh?”

He went up the stoop, pushed open the squeaky door, and entered. Another door and a flight of stairs greeted him. He went straight up the creaking stairs. When they got to the landing, he opened the door and headed down the hall.

When he reached apartment 2C, he stopped, hesitated, and knocked once, twice, three times.

The door opened a moment later. A man, somewhat younger than Brook’s father, stood on the other side looking at them through the gap about as wide as him. He was of stocky build, with an oddly large lower lip above his square jaw and goatee, and dark hair which fanned out behind him like a flower and stood out against his pale skin.

“Well, now,” the man said, opening the door a bit wider and leaning against the door jamb. “T’what do I owe this s’rprise, Sam?”

Brook’s father—Sam—bit his lip. “Crocus, I need to ask a favor.”

Crocus stepped aside. “C’mon in.”

Sam entered and Crocus shut the door. They went past the open door to the tiny kitchen on the left and headed directly into the living room, which seemed to take up most of the cheap apartment. A cushy armchair and sofa sat perpendicular to each other, and a window on the far wall displayed bleak weather.

Sam, still holding Brook, sat on the armchair while Crocus sat on the perpendicular couch. An oak coffee table was between the two, displaying an open newspaper, a wooden tabletop radio (turned off), and a still-smoldering cigar in an ashtray.

“This mus’ be Brook,” Crocus said, his face softening slightly as he looked down. “Hello, Brook. Haven’t seen y’ for a while.”

“Hello, Mr. Crocus,” Brook said, staring at him shyly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Crocus smiled. “P’lite one here, Sam.”

Sam smiled in turn. “Takes after his mother.”

“Aye,” Crocus murmured. “Poor thing . . . so young.” He leaned forward. “So, what’s this fav’r?”

“Please let us stay with you,” Sam blurted out.

“’Scuse me?” Crocus said.

“I’ve got no job,” Sam explained, bowing his head, “and I can’t raise Brook on my own. Please, will you let us stay with you for a while? It’s just until I can get work.”

Crocus leaned back and took another cigar out of his pocket, lighting it up. A moment passed as he inhaled and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Ah, alright,” he grumbled, scratching his head. “I’ve only got th’ one bed, so you’re sleepin’ on the couch, y’hear?”

Sam smiled. “God bless you, Crocus. Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Don’ mention it,” Crocus muttered.

“Brook,” Sam said, holding him on his knee, “we’re going to live with Mr. Crocus for a while.” 

January, 1932

The Bronx, New York

Brook lay in bed, shivering and slipping in and out of consciousness while hand after hand felt his forehead and brushed hair from his face. An awful taste rose from his throat and he nearly choked on his own empty vomit as he trembled, too weak to rise or even lift a finger. Someone made him sit up and pressed a glass of water to his lips, but his throat was so sore he couldn’t even swallow without bursting into tears. The nightmare lasted forever, before it ended. 

May, 1938

A certain part of Oahu, Hawaii

“I see!”

The rotund man laughed as the boy before him scowled. The man had salt-and-pepper hair around his ears, wore an open T-shirt and shorts, and donned sandals on his feet. The Hawaiian boy’s hair was spiky and dark, and he wore goggles on his forehead, a Speedo, and an open aloha shirt. His feet were bare and his chin, oddly enough, was double-cleft.

“I see,” the man repeated, still laughing. “Your parents kicked you out for being too rowdy, huh?”

“It ain’t funny!” the boy snapped, kicking up some hot sand at the man.

The man’s laughter died down as he walked over to the shoddy rowboat. “You built this yourself, kid?”

“Yeah!” The boy puffed out his chest. “It’s the Super Franky Boat 5!”

“So this is the fifth one?”

“You know it!” the boy said proudly.

“It’s a pile of junk!” the man exclaimed, throwing back his head with booming laughter.

“What was that?!”

“And yet, you sailed here all the way from Molokai on this heap?”

“What about it?”

The man eyed the boy thoughtfully with a big grin. “Kid, how about living with me?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got real talent,” the man said, ruffling his hair. The boy made a face. “You need practice—a helluva lotta practice—but you’ve got talent. I’m a shipwright for the Navy, see, I live with a nice lady and another kid, about as old as you. You come live with me, kid, and you can learn the basics with Iceburg. How’s about it?”

The boy brightened. “That sounds like fun! I mean, I got nowhere else to go, anyway.”

“Good, good,” the man said. “Come on, let’s go to my place. What’s your name, son?”

“I’m Franky!”

“I’m Tom,” Tom said with a grin. “Let’s go meet the gang.”

He turned and set off down the beach towards a street. Franky watched him for a moment before running after him.

[dragongambler]

A long Overdue SI

+ A brand new f/o from the same series.

Dollmaker

Name: Raiden Orihara

Affliations: Mihawk, The Red Head Pirates/ Iceburg, Galley-La Company

Occupations: Former Pirate, Suregon

Residence: Kuraigana Island/ Water 7

Epithet: The Crimsom Storm

Age: 23 (debut), 25 (after time skip)

Status: Alive

Birthday: September 8th

Height: 162cm (5'3")

Blood type: ??

Bounty: Unknown

☆hailing from the South Blue, Raiden took to the seas some years after their father had. The much older man had inspired them to not be what their grandmother wanted.

☆A former noble who hated the behavior of their family and offered their surgical knowledge to those in need.

{Mihawk}

☆ After some time traveling, they met one Red Head captain. Shanks had gotten himself into a bind and they helped him out.

☆Their father had been apart of the same crew as him and he recognized the child of the other Surgeon. ("You both always look exhausted.")

☆How did Raiden meet Mihawk?

-

"I apologize for him." The swordsman dragged the other off them. "He does this often." He didn't expect the chuckle that came from them.

"Don't worry, hon. I used to be a surgeon. I'm used to bodies being thrown at me." Something about their laughter pulled out his own. Their personality was like a calming drink of wine.

-

☆Mihawk confessed to Raiden and they two sometimes serve as Shanks' impulse control. (If Melanie isn't there). If Melanie is there, she and Mihawk keep Raiden from trying to spar with Shanks.

☆the dumbass + oh fuck, I Guess They're My Dumbass = this ship.

{Iceburg}

☆The exhausted child of member of the Rogers Pirates is not used to an easy life and finding their way to Water 7 took a long time and

-

"You want to work here?" They had asked to speak to the man in charge. "Why are you asking me if it's okay?" Raiden picked at the soft shirt.

"You see, I know places have a delicate balance and to upset that balance..." It was the mouse that got their attention. "Is it okay to pet them?" Iceburg glanced at his breast pocket.

"Oh my...I don't see why not." Gentle hands set the mouse in their hands."

-

☆Sometimes works at Iceburg's brain cell.

☆another the dumbass + oh fuck, I Guess They're My Dumbass, but this time, Raiden isn't the dumbass.