The Menacing Bra |Master-list|

Fluff, swearing, kissy-kissy, crack, cringe and cliche?? Longish-drabble

You and the cook have a moment, and he actually grew a pair to make a move

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Laundry day.

Oh boy. What absolute joy, the repetitive chore that tested your limits. Chipping away your mental capacity, and your motivation to do anything at all.

You’d spent hours on end, scrubbing and rinsing, only to wear the clothes again, ferevently repeating the cycle.

You cursed, pinching a clip to your nose. You had always wished there was some cheat sheet, some easy way out, other than free labor from the boys. Especially, when you’d gotten stuck with Nami and Robin’s clothes. You’d kindly asked them, seeing their closets were getting low and they’d never decline an offer like that.

Because honestly, who would? Washing clothes by hand was time consuming, and neither you nor the women had the patience for it. Sure, you might be throwing yourself under the bus here, but you cannot for the life of you fucking throw soap and bubbles for an hour.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you scrubbed and submerged the materials hoping you could get done before lunch.

Luckily, the odds seemed to be in your favor. You hadn’t procrastinated as much as you normally did, so you’d be done with this before lunch. But the peace didn’t last, distant crash emitted from downstairs.

“Spoke too soon,” you sighed, hearing a distant laugh and girlish scream follow after another. A familiar angry shout rang from the kitchen and a chaotic catchy cackle echoed.

You didn’t even want know what the cook was dealing with now.

When paired, the trio of boys were a nightmare. Though speaking of them, if you even had to touch their laundry you’d pass away. That was an actual health hazard, and even thinking about it made your skin crawl.

You shuddered, shaking your head. A grossed shiver ran through your spine causing bubbles to fly.

Ew. Just imagining the men’s laundry was a shit show. Maybe not Sanji’s, as he actually cared about his hygiene—but regardless, it was still nasty.

Sanji, who seemed to holler again—made you crack a smile. Your thoughts centered to him as he consequently reprimanded the idiots for whatever ‘crime’ they outdrew.

Though the glimpse of his agitated face made your smile widen.

The way his brows would have creased into a frown, and the way his jaw would have clenched—sharpening his neck... You silently cursed as your mind filtered elsewhere, leaving the rest of you to the mercy of your imagination.

Ok, sure, maybe you had fallen for the hopeless cook but how could you not?

He’d always showered you in devoted affection—heartfelt compliments, and any craving you could possibly think of. You saw him as the perfect package.

Yeah, maybe he could be a little perverted in the terms of others, but that was just his charm. Or so you’d convinced yourself. You never had an issue with him, he’d always been kind—and that kindness easily swooned you.

Yes, he had unhinged compliments, but it was heart-felt. It had to be. Because deep down, his selfless acts and perverted thoughts felt more like a puppy love than anything. Appreciation, admiration, and his firm morals…were always so oddly refreshing.

Though, speaking of that appreciation, you were almost done. You just had to hang up one of your undergarment’s. The task was easy as the deck finally quieted, meaning lunch was ready.

So as quickly as you could, you stepped onto the rail, reaching to a height where you could hang the material. Ignoring the breeze that rushed by, you hopped down to deal with the soapy water—dumping it overboard.

“____, my love! Lunch is done,” Sanji called, his voice glowing with an excited smile as he steadily rounded the corner to take you inside.

“Yeah, just a sec.” You replied, shaking the soapy suds from the container, watching them fall to the ocean below.

“No worries, I can wait darling.”

Turning back, you weren’t met with the handsome face of the cook, but a sharp gust of wind and a wet towel. It speedily flew towards you, smacking you straight in the face.

“Shit—“ Thwack

“Damn wind—you alright?” His voice reached, muffled over the violent winds. The immeasurable pressure howled over the ship, shoving you against the Sunny’s rail with blunt force.

You managed a muffled holler as a response, but the towel had blocked your vision. Musky soaked flowers welcomed your sense of smell, but it quickly disappeared as it thudded to the floor. This wind died down, and you were left soaked. Your blue tank hard a darker hue, and your hard smudged to your face.

You annoyingly wiped the edges out of your face, quickly asking the cook if he was okay. But he wasn’t. You immediately froze at the sight in-front of you.

No.

Actually die.

He’s dead. You killed the man—or well, the bra that covered his face did. He was as red as a tomato, frozen in place.

You would’ve laughed at the sight if you weren’t so embarrassed.

Hesitant hands came in-front of you, debating what to do with yourself in this situation.

“Sanji?”

“S-so soft...” he whispered, dramatically plummeting to the floor.

There he goes…

A long huff escaped you, watching the pathetic trail of blood stream from his nose, and you slowly knelt beside him calling his name.

Sanji didn’t respond, so you tried again, and again, and again. But he was utterly helpless. He twitched like some possessed bug—far too gone to be saved, so you decide you decided to give him air.

Peeling off and tossing aside the bra, your hands hovered yet again, hesitating. You gently patted his cheeks, hoping to snap him out of his spell.

“Hello? Earth to sanji?” You called, patiently waiting. Though as time passed, you began to grow worried. You almost thought to call Chopper, but you didn’t really want to explain this situation.

Far too awkward, far too embarrassing.

So you took matters into your own hands.

“Hey,” You finally chided, swatting his face—leaving light pink marks. “Sanji, snap out of it!”

. . .

Nothing. Literally nothing.

God, how bad was he down for you? Like—religiously? Or—

Ok rude. That was rude. Don’t think that.

You regretted the act of your harsh hands, and impulsive thoughts, but this was ridiculous. His face was blissfully unaware of your torment, and he’d just been in heaven.

Thriving through the cusp of your bra—you couldn’t believe this.

A frustrated sigh escaped you, and you lightly cradled his face, quietly murmuring his name. No matter the frustration or embarrassment, you could never keep yourself from watching him, he was just too pretty for that.

Luckily, your gentle movement did the trick. It was almost instant.

“Yes, d-darling?” his eyes fluttered open, and he stuttered bringing a blue handkerchief to his nose, cleaning away the mess.

“Are you okay?”

“Haha, yes—lovely,” He breathed, locked in the aftermath of your bra. He couldn’t believe he’d seen the world.

You only seemed to grumble at his words, but your heart hammered when his eyes shined to your own. He gently smiled and you just froze, quietly watching him.

“Are you sure?” you asked, leaning a bit back.

“You’re pink.”

Ugh. Blow by blow, your heart was taking too many hits, and you wish you could just disappear.

This was not your friendly situation of: you could do this. This was embarrassing.

Sanji chuckled, leaning on his heels. He was far from you in your kneeled form, and it was just another hit to your chest.

“Positive Love,” he reassured, tucking his tissue aside. He seemed oblivious now, or—as he so acted, but for such a doting idiot he didn’t seem to take a hint.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t I be,” you muttered, averting your gaze. You were quick to stand, but he’d been quicker helping you to your feet.

“Just wondering, that towel flew by before I could stop it,” he said, looking you over. Taking in your dampened shirt and messied hair— he fell in love with you all over again.

An innocent silence went by as you fixed your hair, taking notice to his stare. You thought to comment on it, maybe to change the subject and flirt—but you’d just point out your own habits.

So you opted not to.

“Yeah—uh, it did,” you said awkwardly, transfixing your gaze to the deck, which he’d taken quick notice to. But you hadn’t been slick enough to keep to yourself.

“That wind was pretty crazy, huh? Pushed me into the rails.” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck.

“That it did, is your back alright chérie?”

“Huh? Oh—it’s fine, I’m okay. Push and shove is fine, I mean, no—it’s not.” you didn’t even know what you were saying now, you were tumbling over your words but you couldn’t seem to catch yourself.

But Sanji didn’t seemed to mind, he loved your little rambles.

He could tell you were nervous, and he just loved it. Inside, he was a wreck himself, but seeing you like this made him confident. Sanji saw how he was affecting you, and he only wanted to see more of it.

So, he pushed to make you blush.

“I should—“ you went to say something, but his hand found your waist and your stomach tightened.

There it was.

The cook gave you the option to step away, but you didn’t and he continued. He stepped closer, keeping a kind smile to his face—patiently waiting for you to look up to him.

But you only panicked, you didn’t know what to do, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to kiss him—but was that the wrong move? Was that he wanted? Probably, but you’d didn’t know how to follow through with it. You were a complete ditz to this.

Romance wasn’t your forte, but it sure was his. He knew how to sweet talk a lady, and he knew how to treat one. He was the embodiment of a gentleman—and he’d never dare hit a woman.

Not even if his life depended on it.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he murmured, watching your hands stiffly come to your front.

You finally turned to look up at him, and he wanted to kiss you then and there, but he held back.

Sanji always had with you. He was gentle, and he always made sure you were comfortable. He was a flirt, and you were awkward but that didn’t stop him.

Reactions had never been hard to get out of you, and he liked that, but as more of those nervous rambles drew out; he found himself wanting more.

Unknowingly, you drew him in like an addiction, something he could just go hours watching. Taking pleasure from it. Nervous or rambling he adored you more than he could ever describe.

“If I’m being too much you can tell me,” he reminded, keeping considerate.

“No, no not at all I just,” your voice trailed off and you found yourself looking to his lips.

He caught that, and he took the hint pulling you closer. You chest bumped against his and you leaned back.

“Sorry,” you muttered, averting your gaze.

“What? Don’t apologize, there’s nothing you to be sorry for,” he chuckled, dragging a tender hand along your back, sending tingles of warmth along with it.

He looked to you, and he was drawn to your lips like honey to a bee. But that train of thought was quickly interrupted. His eyes widened as you impulsively leaned up, kissing him.

But it wasn’t long before he melted.

A soft groan muffled against your own, and he cupped the back of your head deepening the kiss.

Sanji always thought you looked sweet, but this far surpassed any imagination he could conjure.

His lips longingly met yours, and he groaned when your hands slid up his chest to his shoulders. His legs almost buckled at the feeling, and he needily slipped his tongue across yours.

You parted to take a breath, but Sanji was too eager. He kissed you again muffling a noise, as he walked to push you against the rail, tilting your head back.

A warm breeze blew by and hands were everywhere, dragging along every part of you, carefully squeezing your shirt and skin. Fingers dipped beneath your tank, trailing up your stomach to the soft dips in your ribs—brushing against the underside of your bra.

SLAM

A door across from you opened, and an impatient captain ruined your moment. “Sanji! Can we eat now?!”

With quick reflexes, the two of you flew away from each-other. You quickly fixed you tank while he tidied up his tux, an awkward cough sounded from you.

“Hey what are you—“

“Nothing!” You dismissed, coughing again—trying to rid the burning feeling in your mouth. You looked beet red quickly passing past the boy.

“He just came to tell me lunch was done, we can eat now!” you chirped, wiping a thumb your lips to rid it of any dampness—fleeing the scene.

You couldn’t believe you’d been so close to being caught.

“Uh—____ wait—“ Sanji tried, but he was fairing off no better. A deep blush was absorbed to his face spreading down his neck. He was a mess.

But as soon as you left, he was seething. It was like a switch as it came to play Luffy had interrupted something that he’d have continued.

“Huh? What’s her deal—“

“Did you have to ruin that?!” He snapped, grabbing the stretchy idiot by his shirt, rapidly shaking him. He didn’t even bother to hide fluster.

“You idiot! Could you not see I was having a moment! I’ve waited forever for this—and you just had to plow through and ruin it!”

“What moment?! And what do you mean ruin it! I just said I was hungry!” his rubber head helplessly flopped back n’ forth, as he tried to avoid the cooks wrath, but he’d ultimately failed.

Yes, Luffy might’ve been hungry.

But, Sanji had been starving.

Lay Off! |Master-List|

Roronoa Zoro x !Fem!Reader, fluff, angst/comfort, anxiety, reader snaps, anger-issues, make-up, swearing, lowkey made me tear up.

Summary: You get overstimulated and finally break...

A/N: I have finally revised this fic. I am so glad, because I can’t believe I WROTE THIS 😭😭 There might be a few slip-ups, but it’s WAY better from before.

(Taking a break changes your grammar and set-up istg.)

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It'd been mid-day.

The hours had been painstakingly fucking long, and you'd cooped yourself up in your room to avoid further attention.

You didn't know what set you off, but you just wanted it to stop.

Your skin crawled, and your head felt like it was going to explode. Your limbs helplessly flexed and turned, attempting to alieve your symptoms, but nothing would let up. You were wound. And you were wound tight. Your body wouldn’t let you loose, leaving you to suffer as anxiety prickled over your skin.

You tried to distract yourself with a small craft, you really did, but only more frustration welled. You couldn’t keep still, and you finally cursed. Hands slammed against the desk, sending your paper crafts across the wood, into your mess of scraps.

Tears welled, and you pushed yourself away with your rolling chair—avoiding the further abuse you’d inflict on your workspace. Heat raged, and your nails drug through your hair, trying to pull yourself out of your head, but it wasn’t enough. No matter the distance you put within yourself, it never felt right.

You were stressed, anxious, and torn that you pushed the ones you loved away. And you could never fucking explain why. You just felt so angry. So turmoiled, that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself.

Your fists curled in your hair and a burning sensation followed, leaving you to feel something other than your pain.

But the unexplainable feeling grew, and it coursed through you like an endless loop of rage and helplessness. You didn’t know how to control it, and you didn’t know how to deal with it, you just couldn’t function.

Left, to right. Over and over, you paced your room. Trying to calm down, but a distant knock echoed.

"Hey, lunch is..." Usopp's voice trailed off as he saw your state, and he quickly backed off.

"Uh, I'll let Sanji know you—“

"Just go, please!" you snapped, banging your fists against your head. Your chest heaved, and Usopp’s breath caught.

"Yep! On it!" he squeaked, shutting your door.

Silence washed over the room, but peace didn't follow like it usually did. It was unbearable, and your body felt intolerable. Like you needed to do something, or you needed something. You couldn’t remember what or why, and nothing clearly came through…

The restlessness grew, and it was boiling.

You shakily went back to your desk, picking up the small paper you'd originally thrown with your trembling hands, trying to convince yourself it'd be okay. That you'd get through it.

You could just mend it. You could do it. It'd be okay. Just calm down.

You're fine.

It was just some small papery flowers, how hard could it be? Anyone could do it—you had this. You always did. You got frustrated and eventually came back to fix it. You just needed time.

So why couldn't you do it right now? You gave yourself plenty of time.

Though you still couldn't you function, and couldn't you think. Why the hell was it that you felt like you had no time? Like there was nothing but everything coming at you all at once? Why couldn't you—

"Oi, what's going on?" Zoro appeared by the door, and his voice was firm—steady. His presence was grounding, and it’d been something you’d always loved, but your body strangely hated it in the moment.

You were too lost in it to realize, but Usopp had probably been worried.

He must have told Zoro, because everyone knew he'd been your paper-weight. He kept you together, like a stack of paper, or in other words—aligned control. But, in the moment, you couldn’t understand that, and you’d eventually come to regret it later.

Zoro was tense at your silence, as he wasn’t often familiar with it. He was used to your laughter, and your clumsy remarks, even your stupid comments.

But he knew that wasn’t always you.

You kept yourself together well, until you couldn’t and you hid. He wasn’t an emotional guru or anything, but he’d been attentive enough to pick up on your behaviors.

Especially, when things took a turn for the worse.

He'd easily seen it this morning when you came in for break-fast and left, sparing no good-morning, no sweet smile, no teasing—you were just struggling.

You weren’t acting like you, and he hated it.

Zoro wouldn’t seem the empathetic type, but when it came to the ones he loved—his chest would uncomfortably ache. Especially when it came to you, who held herself so high yet was hurting so much deep down.

The sniper had startled him awake, quickly telling him—or, rather rambling to him, that you weren’t okay. It seemed rather urgent, and he looked offly looked worried, so Zoro obviously wouldn’t set it aside.

If you needed help, or guidance—you just did.

There was no easier way to put it, and it wasn’t embarrassing, it was just life.

And Zoro was never one to bullshit, but you could be sensitive at times. It wasn’t a bad thing, it just made things harder for you.

You could get worked up over the smallest of things, unintentionally snapping—or taking it the wrong way, blocking yourself off…

He’d seen the signs.

He always had.

And this was clearly one of those times, where something had gotten the better of you.

But little did he know, it wasn't just your anger. It wasn’t like the other times, something was painfully different. This was deeper.

Calmly, Zoro spoke your name.

You were quick to snap, but you turned away covering your face. You tried to calm yourself and catch your breath—but yet again, it wasn’t helping.

"Yes, I know, just give me second.” you replied, uncharacteristically hitting your desk. You hands slammed your poor creation, and tears began to well. You were cracking, and more frustration poured.

You snapped again, and a curse flew out your lips as you kicked your desk. It was harsh, and you were sent roughly back against the wall in your chair—creating a slam.

At your action, he knew you were overwhelmed. Hell, he’d felt it as soon as he came in, but as you curled in on yourself—digging your nails, it only confirmed it.

A muffled sob broke through the silence, and he was beside you in seconds.

In two steps, he’d crouched down infront of you.

His calloused hands, prevented you from hurting yourself, though his touch wasn’t rough. It was strong, and it was strong enough to keep you from pushing away or thrashing.

He needed you here, with him, and not lost somewhere else.

"Breathe." he ordered.

"I can’t, just stop, don’t—fucking touch me!” you choked, attempting to squirm, "Zoro stop it.”

Your lover doesn’t break, nor’ does he stop. He only holds you tighter, as if he knows you’ll only spiral further.

Your breath is labored, struggled—and he can already see you slip.

His gaze softens, and he steadily pulls you into his lap. Zoro doesn't comfort you with words, but he does with the way he knows how—his presence.

By being there, holding you—grounding you, tightening his grip as you stubbornly try to push away, he doesn't let go.

He silently urges you to relax; creating absent circles over your back, as his hand tightens at the base of your neck, pushing you easily to his shoulder.

His legs lock to come around your own, pulling, to keep you in.

"Stop fighting me, you'll only make it worse," his voice rumbles over the crown of your head, and you can’t help but feel comforted.

You want to agree, you want to stop, but your body doesn't. It involuntarily moves, and you cry as you push against his chest, growing light-headed.

But the dizziness forces your body to relax.

Your shoulders slack, and you ease. Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath.

"You good, now?" he asks, keeping a gentle grip.

You sniffle, nodding as you can't bare yourself to look up at him. You don't even know what came over you, and you can barely remember what happened.

You feel like an idiot.

Embarrassed, guilty—ashamed, just wrong.

"Yeah, I’m sorry.” you whispered, leaning back.

Though Zoro doesn’t let up, he keeps you in his lap and his hands shift to cradle your face.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” his thumbs wipes your tears, and you can’t help but lean into them.

“I should’ve come down earlier, I didn’t know you were getting so worked up.”

"It's okay," you mumbled, lowering your gaze, but he tilts you back up.

"____, it's not. You know that, what’s going on?”

"I don't know," you manage out, and his look crushed you.

You know he wants to understand, he always does, the whole crew does, but you’re not even sure yourself. A weight topples over you, and you suddenly remember the way you snapped at Usopp.

Shit. You didn’t mean that—you didn’t mean any of this.

Why weren’t you doing anything right?

"I just, I don’t know.” your voice broke, and you turned away. “I couldn’t stop, it wouldn’t go away.”

"Then, why didn't you come to me?"

"Because, it's too much, everything feels like too much.” you whimpered, covering a hand over your mouth. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to snap at you—or Usopp. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

"Hey—stop, look at me." he adjusted you forward, and this time he held your gaze.

His eyes carried a warmth, and it felt like a safety you never had the privilege of experiencing.

"Sorry,” you whispered.

"No. Don’t. Don’t, go apologizing. No one needs that.” Zoro’s hand ran through your hair, and he focused forward. You needed to hear this, and he’d say it over and over until you didn’t.

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling something, no one expects you to be perfect all the time—and I sure as hell don’t give a shit if you snap at shit you didn’t mean.” his lips twitched into a smile, as he remembered a time you cursed at Luffy for grabbing your food.

He liked your unexpected anger, even if it was this.

“The crew sees, I see you. And that’s all that matters.” he murmurs, and he sees you crack a smile.

Good. You needed that.

“You hear me?”

“Yeah, I do.” you sniffled, nodding your head, “loud and clear.”

He let out a breath, “good. Now C’mere.”

Zoro shifted, leaning against the wall to hug you close. He was being soft, and he was being kind.

In his own Zoro, way of course, but he was still there. He always would be.

He cupped the side of your head, letting you bury yourself into the crook of his neck.

Your lover wanted to take away anything that had harmed you, but that took time—and he realized that. But he didn’t mind hugging you a little longer to fix it.

He wasn’t going anywhere, and little did he know, this was all anyone could ask for.

Someone who still loved you at your lowest.

(short reacts) | "you confess when you're totally shitfaced drunk" + one piece men

summary: you had WAY past your drinking limit and now you're just exploding with LOVE for him.

characters: crocodile, mihawk, marco, ace, shanks, law, corazon

• ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ •

CROCODILE

You’re swaying in his arms, eyes glossy, cheek pressed against his chest.

“Croco-babyyy…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I LOVE you.”

He goes rigid.

You grab the front of his shirt.

“Like SOOO much. Like, if someone tried to stab you, I'd bite them. Right on the ankle.”

You squint.

“Your scary lil hook hand is soooo cool, I love it. You're my favorite angry man.”

He malfunctions. Literally just stares at you like you're an alien who dropped from heaven.

“You're drunk.”

“I'm in loveeeeeeee!”

You pass out mid-hug.

He just stands there. Frozen.

Mutters:

“...What the hell am I supposed to do with that.”

(Spoiler: He tucks you in and sits there watching you sleep like a guard dog with heartburn.)

MIHAWK

You cling to his arm like a koala. You’re warm and soft and talking a mile a minute.

“You’re sooo handsome. Like, it’s RUDE actually. I have to look away sometimes cause you’re too hot and I feel like I’m gonna die.”

He blinks.

“You’re intoxicated.”

“I’m INTO YOU.”

He blinks again.

You poke his chest with a pout.

“Do you know how annoying it is to like someone who looks like a vampire prince and has very judgmental eyebrows?”

He raises one.

“THAT.”

Then you melt into his coat and sigh.

“I love you sooooooo much… If you asked me to run away and start a farm I’d do it. For you. I'd plant cucumbers.”

He doesn’t sleep that night.

MARCO

You climb into his lap like a sleepy kitten.

“Marrrrrrcooooo…”

“Yeah, baby?”

You press your forehead to his.

“I love you SO much it’s dumb. Like, I wanna kiss your face and also cry and also buy you matching socks.”

He laughs softly.

“That’s a lotta feelings, huh?”

“It’s not my fault your smile makes me feel like life is worth living.”

He actually covers his face because holy shit that one got to him.

“I’m gonna fucking die, yoi.”

“Noooo you’re not, I love you too much. I won’t let you die. I’ll protect you with SOCKS.”

You fall asleep on him mid-rant.

He kisses your hair and whispers:

“You’re killin’ me, songbird.”

ACE

You run up to him and tackle-hug him.

“ACE I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!!”

“Wha—?!! Are you okay?!”

“I’m in love with you.”

“YOU’RE WHAT?!”

“Like a lot. Like, if you turned into a plant I’d water you.”

He’s already spiraling. Red. Stammering. Sweating.

“I—uh—what?! When?! Why?!!”

“Cause you’re cute and warm and you make my tummy do loop-de-loops.”

“SO DO YOU!!! WAIT—NO—WHAT AM I SAYING?!”

“Okay, wait, but would you love me if I was a worm?”

You both pass out cuddling under a table with Ace going into specific details about he'd take care of you if you were a worm and how you'd take care of him if he was a plant.

Sabo finds you both crying and whispers:

“Idiots. They deserve each other.”

SHANKS

You stumble in. Red-faced. Teary-eyed. Drunk on rum and love.

“Shanks…”

“Here we go…”

You grab his coat.

“I’m gonna say something crazy.”

“Hit me.”

“I’m in love with you. Like, I’d kill a seagull for you.”

“...That’s a weird standard but I’ll take it.”

“And I think your laugh is sexy. And your scars are cool. And your nose is NICE. And I’d marry you. Right now.”

He pauses.

Smiles.

“Say it again tomorrow when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

“Okay. But you’re mine now.”

“Deal. By the way, what’s your ring size?”

LAW

You shuffle in with a flushed face and a stuffed penguin.

“Trafalgaaaar…”

“Don’t slur my name.”

“I love you.”

He looks up from his book like you just summoned an ancient evil.

“Excuse me?”

“So much. You’re smart. And hot. And I like your hands. And your voice. And if you died I’d start a cult.”

“...A what.”

“A cult. With matching outfits. And hats.”

“You’re fevered.”

“I’m in love.”

You lean on his shoulder and then pass out on his lap.

He doesn’t move for two hours.

CORAZON

You run into him mid-giggle.

“ROSINANTEEEE!!”

He flails.

You grab his face and kiss his cheek.

“You are the love of my LIFE. Your laugh is cute. Your coat is STUPID but I LOVE IT. I love YOU.”

He goes full tomato. Tears are already streaming down his face.

You write “I’D DIE FOR YOU” on a sticky note and slap it to his chest.

Then immediately fall asleep in his arms.

He’s crying and hugging you and writing down “I LOVE YOU TOO” over and over and over.

He genuinely just loves you so much.

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4rticbolt

5 months ago

Soul King Brook; Headcanons

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Even though he’s a skeleton and is incapable of feeling what a soul can’t comprehend, sometimes Brook still feels poisoned. He sometimes looks at his bones and has to remember that they aren’t affected by anything anymore and what he’s ‘feeling’ is phantom pain.

Brook has terrible hallucinations. They mainly affect him when he’s tired, either about to fall asleep or is now awake after just having been asleep.

Brook’s hallucinations audibly consist of him hearing the Rumbar pirates singing, the sound of musical instruments being played, and occasional thuds of a body dropping. The thuds stick with him the most.

Brook’s visuals during hallucinations range from seeing Rumbar pirate members alive and doing things to their corpses standing there in various places just staring at him. It’s haunting to see big, blacked out spaces in their skulls where their lively eyes used to be. The way that their teeth bare out with no malice, just emptiness instead of those happy smiles that were once there.

Chopper often pulls Brook aside to talk about the hallucinations and see if he can do anything to help.

Sometimes Brook will mistake one of the Straw Hats for a passed Rumbar Pirate member. It most often happens with Luffy when Brook thinks it’s Yorkie talking to him.

Chopper has declared him genuinely insane and mentally unstable , but he doesn’t bring it up to Brook.

Brook’s best method of healing is engaging with others and being social. Chopper noticed and makes a point to ask for Brook to play music during dinner a couple times a week.

Brook has tried to kill himself during his isolation in the Florian Triangle. (Well, I guess that isn’t what you could call it if he is already dead.) Point being, before he truly accepted that he was stuck living as a skeleton Brook attempted to reverse the affects of his devil fruit many times.

Has created more than 250 different joke sequences.

Learned swordsmanship when he was very young. He was actually considered a swordsman before a musician who also happens to be a swordsman.

He got his love of music and ability to play most instruments from the Rumbar Pirates. Sure, he liked music before but they introduced him to a whole new world.

Has sat with Robin and let her discuss all her knowledge of music and its political importance, history, cultural divergences, just everything with him over tea quite a few times.

Sometimes during the night on the Straw Hat ship, Brook will stay awake even if he’s not on patrol duty. He will often just watch the members sleep, count the rhythm of their breathing, study their facial features, or even hold his cold, pointy finger bones to their pulse to actual feel their life force.

Something about Brook taking time during the night to just study the Straw Hats gives him a sense of peace. They don’t look like the Rumbar Pirates did during their exile in Florian Triangle. The Straw Hats are all alive, with flesh and blood and a beating heart.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He’s so important to me I just know he has the worst canonical fomo in the whole manga

Mwah 😽

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4rticbolt

4 weeks ago

"I know adverbs are controversial, but "said softly" means something different than 'whispered' and this is the hill I will die on."

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4rticbolt

3 weeks ago

I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook

I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat.

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4rticbolt

4 months ago