Fan Art

🏴‍☠️ ONE PIECE x STARDEW VALLEY 🏴‍☠️

SIMULAÇÃO DE EVENTO!

Durante a noite, uma tempestade monstruosa caiu sobre o mar da Vila Pelicanos. pouco antes do sol nascer, uma estranha embarcação ancorou na praia. Com o clarear do dia, foi possível ver o quão danificado aquele vanio estava. Ao chegar na praia, você se deparou com uma tripulação pirata que estava precisando de ajuda… ⭕ EVENTO ESPECIAL ONE PIECE ⭕ Complete as missões de cada membro do bando e repare o navio para ajudar os Mugiwaras a voltarem para suas aventuras!

O evento começaria assim que o jogador fosse a praia e dialogasse com os NPCs. Ao falar com cada membro da tripulação, uma nova missão seria desbloqueada! Ao completar todas as missões, um conjunto seria disponibilizado no Sunny Go, para que a reparação do navio fosse feita. Após consertar o navio, o jogador teria uma cutscene de festa com o bando pirata e, por fim, o evento terminaria. Na manhã seguinte, o jogador receberia cartas de agradecimento de cada membro da tripulação, cada uma acompanhada com uma recompensa exclusiva do evento. Também ao finalizar o evento por completo, um conjunto de recompensas bônus também seria disponibilizado.

You know that friend of a friend that you fucking hate?

Also known as, That week-long fling on the way to Zou that you totally regret.

blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...

This is probably asking for much more than you already do and considering the dreaming of you prompt are mainly one shots for characters totally understand if you don’t do this but would you consider writing a pt2 or at least an ending for katakuri’s one. Recently read it, love it, can’t stop, thinking about it

Please🥺

I got you, anon. I wanted to have them see each other, at least. He didn't get to talk with them like the others in his NSFW fic prior, and I wanted him to have a happy ending. You're making me work today!

Elegia

Masterlist Here,

Word Count: 970+

Synopsis: After the events of Elegia with Tot Musica and Uta, you awaken to the looming figure of Katakuri standing above you. You apologise for the events that transpired, asking forgiveness for putting his siblings in danger, and only have respect meet you in your wake.

Themes: Katakuri x afab!reader, sfw, feelings, fluff, mentions of battle, mutual respect, mutual pining. Part 2 for Dreaming of You (NSFW) Here, One-Piece RED fic.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Waking up alone and isolated from your crew was not the way you anticipated your time in Elegia to conclude. A vicious battle between the demonic presence of Tot Musica, under the command of the siren-song of Uta, was not what you envisioned for your getaway. If you knew this is what awaited you, you would have especially taken more consideration in inviting your new friend Brûlée along with you to the island. 

Looking to your side, you noticed her form remained unmoving and unconscious as you stirred from your position lying in the grass. You immediately crawled over to her, your lethargy weighing you down and prompting your movements to be slow and staggered. 

Just before you managed to reach her, you felt a presence behind you and a large hand placed on your shoulder. You slowly winced up, your mind in a haze as you turned your gaze towards the presence. 

Charlotte Katakuri crouched down beside you and looked at his unconscious siblings just beyond you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. In his mind's eye, and in your own, you were all engaged in a vicious battle to take down the entity in perfect unison: you within the dream-land from the sing-sing fruit, and the reality combated by him externally with the Red-Hair pirates. 

You felt him in your eyes, and he felt you in his; both your observation Haki working in perfect synchrony to take down the demon and save the civilians and marines only there to enjoy Uta’s music. He placed a little more pressure on your shoulders, pinching the muscle beneath his wide fingertips. In unison, you spoke immediately in a hurried tone. 

“I’m so sorry, lord Charlotte,” you bowed your head and began to utter your sincere apologies to him, “If I knew this is what was waiting for us when I invited Brûlée here to the concert with me, I never would’ve-,” you started your hurried apology, only stopping when you focussed on his words.

“-I have never experienced fighting alongside such a skilled Haki user before. Observation and armament alike, you are truly a revered warrior,” he complimented you, shifting his grip on your shoulder to caress your cheek with his large hands. “Your grace on the battlefield and protection over my family did not go unnoticed here.” 

Your breath hitched, darting your eyes between his before looking down to the bodies of his unconscious siblings. Shaking your head away from his grip, you slowly sink to your knees and bow your head to him further. 

“I deserve no such praise, my lord,” you admit to him with a soft quiver in your tone and your mind racing with the aftershocks of adrenaline, “This is the second time your sister Brûlée has been injured because of me, and Oven did not fare much better.” Katakuri collected your chin beneath his fingers and angled your face up to gaze into his eyes. 

“They are unscathed,” he searched within your expression and thumbed over the apple of your cheek, “And they are unharmed physically.” He leaned forward and lowered himself down from his crouched position to kneel in front of you. “I am grateful for your friendship with my sister, please do not ever apologize to me for it.” 

A weight lifted off your shoulders as you darted your eyes between his, feeling something within his orbs suppressed below the surface. You dart your eyes down to the fur shroud covering his lips before returning to gaze up into his hazel-colored orbs. 

“Thank you, lord Charlotte,” you hang your head once more, choosing to honor him further with a low bow. He chased your gaze by lowering his head and angling his chin down, the shroud loosening over his lips and revealing a soft, toothy smile. 

“Please call me by my name,” he smiled further, both of you not noticing the two other Charlotte siblings stirring beside you and glancing up at you. You sighed, a small and shy smile rising to your lips, as you looked down to view his sharpened teeth and eel-like jaw. A soft rosy blush of shame and embarrassment grew on his cheeks as he noticed your gaze down on his lips. 

Wincing away, he retracted his hand and attempted to relift his shroud back over his lips, halting when he felt your gentle hand reach forward. You looked between his eyes, slowly adding a soft amount of pressure on his hand and softly urging him to reveal his face to you once more. 

“Would…” you began, searching his now revealed face with more purpose and a soft flush rising to your nose, ears and cheeks, “...Would you like to stay with me a while, Katakuri? Just until your siblings regain consciousness?” Katakuri looked beyond you to where Brûlée and Oven were looking at him, immediately falling to their backs and closing their eyes to feign unconsciousness. 

He smiled a soft, knowing smile and leaned forward, prompting your hand to raise from his hand up to cup his cheek. 

“I would like that very much,” he whispered your name, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes upon impact. 

The connection between you was strong and powerful, short sparks of ignition tingling between the press of his head and the flames of new beginnings rising in your heart. You both raised soft smiles in unison, in view of his ‘sleeping’ siblings, and your crew now catching up with you in your place on the island. 

Katakuri now knew it was not only a possibility to have his dreams potentially become a reality with armament haki, but you may feel affection for him as he did feel for you. Breathing each other's air and holding one another close, you felt at peace and hopeful of what new beginning these sparks meant for the both of you.

Sleepover

Posted:09/13/23

Title: Sleepover

Buggy x GN Strawhat Reader

Fluff

Summary: Since Buggy is suck as a head on the strawhat's ship, you decide to pass the time together with a flirtatious game of never have I ever.

Author's note:

Word Count: 1552

OPLA Story List/ Master List/ Requests Here

Warnings: Language

🔞18+ page due to dark and adult themes. Minors will be blocked 🔞

"I don't want that thing," Zoro said, putting his hands up when Usopp tried to hand him Buggy's head. "It's your turn. I've had to listen to him all day." Buggy rolls his eyes as the two men go back and forth. "I'll take him." You say. Unopp didn't question it and tossed him to you. "Watch it!" Buggy shouts at him. Zoro and Usopp run off to dinner. "Hi." You greeted, looking down at him. "Hi~," He says back with a sarcastic smile before rolling his roll again. "Do you want to play a game with me?" You asked. He looked up at you, confused. "A game?" He questioned back, wondering if you were messing with him. You nodded and began to walk back to your quarters of the ship. He sighs. "What the hell am I supposed to play, dim-wit? I'm a fucking head." It was your turn to roll your eyes. "There's lots of things we could play. Blackjack, truth or dare, never have I ever -" Buggy cuts you off when you finally get to your room. "What is this a sleepover?" You set him next to you on your bed. "Well, do you want to play any of them, or do you have any better ideas?" He thought about it for a minute. "Never have I ever..." You smiled at his answer. "I'll go get the shot glasses!"

You came back from the ship's kitchen with two shot glasses and a nice bottle of whiskey. "I got the good stuff. Don't tell Sanji." Buggy thinks for a moment trying to recall which one was Sanji. "The French bimbo?" He questioned. "That's the one. He's really into cooking, so he'd be mad if he knew I was using the nice whiskey for cheap shots." Buggy takes note of this. "Nothing cheap with me, sweetheart." He says flirtatiously. "You're makeup says otherwise." You stab with a smirk. "Hey!" You don't give him a chance to say more. "Who goes first?" He scoffs. "Well, obviously, I should go first." Buggy ego speaks. "You're right, age before beauty." "Yes -" He catches himself. "You little shit. I'm not that old and twice as beautiful as you!" You chuckle. "Whatever old man just go." He shakes his head thinking. "Never have I ever eaten a crewmate." Your eyes widen before you start laughing. "What? I've done fuck up shit but not that." You waved your hand while laughing. "Eaten as in Cannibalism or as in oral?" You try to clarify. Buggy burst out laughing. "You dirty little bitch. Cannibalism." He confirmed. "Nope, I've never done that." He nods. "Okay then, oral." Buggy says, changing the meaning of his question. "I've been on a pirate crew only for a few months, dude. Do you think I've had time?" "A few months and still no? You're not trying hard enough." His joke makes you flustered. "What do you mean?! I'm not trying." The topic was starting to embarrass you. "Then that's the problem." "Problem?! That is hardly a problem." You both bicker for a few minutes about wwhetheror not you should be trying to fuck your crewmates. Buggy couldn't care less about your sex life but found it entertaining to embarrass you. "Okay! Whatever, my turn... Never have I ever..." You look around the room looking for ideas. "Never have ever made a kid cry." Buggy scoffs. "You can't ask shit you know I did." You chuckle. "Why? Because you'll know I'll win." "You won't win even with that sshinylittle rule." You laughed. "Wanna bet?" The question made Buggy smile. "Hell yeah. What's it worth to you?" His eyes are fixed on your lips, watching you bite down. "Umm... If I win, you have to tell him a true story about yourself." He jokely hissed. "Ohh, how dangerous~" He mocked you. The tips of your fingernails tap the shot glass. "What do you want if you win?" You asked looking at him. He gives you a chuckle. "When I win..." Buggy corrects. "I want a kiss~." Your eyes widen. "What?" He clarifies for you. "You have to kiss me and not just a little peck. A 30-second French kiss~" Blush fills your face. It wasn't the worst thing, was it? You thought before giving an audible sigh. "Fine, but only because I know I'll win." Buggy smirks. "Sure you will... now, give me the damn shot." It had almost slipped your mind that you would have to help him. "Oh, right." You pour the first shot of the night and place the cool glass on his lips. Buggy doesn't break eye contact as he downs it. "Alright, cupcake. Never have I ever stolen from a crewmate." You huffed and filled your glass with the stolen goods. "1-1" you mumbled. "Never have I ever hid a body part to spy on people." He rolls his eyes while you poor his shot. "Never have I ever slipped edibles into Sanji's cooking?" You choke on your spit. "How-" Buggy smiles proudly. "Drink bitch." He demands.

☆

"Damn it!" You say taking another shot while Buggy laughs at you. "Piss off!" You shout back playfully. "Okay, my turn..." You set down your glass and think for a moment before a wicked smile spreads across your face. Buggy looks concerned. "What's with that look l/n?" You smiled. "Never have I ever... used my own dick to fuck myself." Buggy's face goes pale from shock before his face turns red with anger and embarrassment. "WHAT THE HELL?!" You burst out laughing while Buggycusss you out. Letting him get it out, you wait patiently with a filled shot glass. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT-" There's a sudden banging on the wall. "Clown, if you don't shut the hell up, I'll cut out your tongue and throw it in the sea!" Zoro shouts. Making you realize how late it has gotten. Buggy bites his tongue. You laughed quietly to yourself at Zoro. Buggy couldn't help but quietly laugh about it, too. "Whatever, shit stick. Just give me the shot." You wipe the tear from your eye. "Yes, sir." You replied jokingly, putting the glass to his lips. The comment didn't help Buggy's embarrassed blushing. "It's getting late. Do you want to be done?" "Sure but only because I'm in the lead." He answered with a chuckle, causing yoh to put the bottle away. "So um... where have you been sleeping?" "Where ever, I'm left." Buggy says through his teeth. "Oh..." He watches you think for a moment. "Well, I have an extra pillow if you wanna lay on that." Buggy is a little taken aback by the suggestion. "My how bold~ At least take me out for dinner first before inviting me to bed~" He jokes, watching you pull your sheets back.

"Or... you know pay what what you owe~" You look at him confused. "Pay what I owe - oh! Right. The kiss." You pull the sheets over your lap. Your hands are more careful with him than the other crewmates. "Does it have to be French?" You questioned nervously. "Damn right, it does. That was the agreement. Now, pucker up." Buggy closes his eyes and puckers his lip dramatically. Sighing you press your lips to his. Buggy's relaxed into something natural and sweet. The feeling of his cheap old makeup smears across your lips. Buggy opens his mouth slightly, letting himself get greedy with being paid his part. You welcome him in and let his excited tongue desperately try to dominate yours. The surprise of passion was found sparking I'm his actions. You wanted to wonder when the last time someone kissed him was or showed him in sort of affection without a sour taste of fear to ruin it? However, you didn't let yourself wander away from the warm, wet kiss. Even when you had to pull away for air. Your eyes were still closed. Arms tried from holding him up yet not relaxing. Buggy didn't say anything. He just stared at your messed-up lips. The stain of his makeup gave you your own small clown smile. Oh, how you could enchant his whole audience if you were part of his show. No one spoke when you opened your eyes. The souls gazed into one another. Longing for something unnamed. "I um... I think that was more than 30 seconds." Your chuckles match together. "Probably." Another moment of uncomfortable silence fills the room. "Your arms tried?" He asked quietly. "Mh? Oh yeah..."

Placing him on the side of his face on the pillow so he faced you. "Is that good?" You asked, laying down next to him. "Yeah, fine." He says like a brat. Buggy watches as you close your eyes, still facing him. The bed sways back and forth as he continues to stare. "This really doesn't bug you?" He asked genuinely. "Does what bug me?" He scoffed. "Oh, I don't know, maybe a creepy serial killer pirate clown's decapitated head sleeping next to you." You don't open your eyes. "It's fine Buggy just go to sleep." There's a moment of silence. "Don't tell me what to do..." He mumbled before closing his eyes.

He just saw his hero picking his nose

I’m a big fan of Bartomoleo, such a silly guy 🐓

I rlly went through all the stages of grief with this drawing lmao (acceptance being the last one so it’s all good <3)

ERM HI…. HAHA… I really like ur elliott fics and im wondering,,,,,, *looks at you with HUGE eyes* what if that one scene on Ginger Island where you have the dialogue option to “help him put sunscreen on” turns SPICY… Perhaps with an afab or genderless farmer…. 👁️👁️

Again, i love your stuff and i get super happy to see ur posts on my TL 🐝💕💕 long live the great bee 🤴

(For now i will remain anonymous… 🪳)

a/n: sorry that this took forever! i was in anti-horny mode. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy this fic!

word count: 1.6k

warnings: accidental boner, blowjob, deepthroating, semi-public sex (farmer and elliott fuck in the bathroom on ginger island), cum swallowing, farmer and elliott fail to realize that they're crushing on one another

summary: elliott needs help with applying sunscreen on his back and as his friend, you're more than happy to help! but what happens when you get too close and too intimate with the whole process?

★ the sunscreen incident - elliott x farmer ★

The summer breeze ruffled your hair and the sun beamed down warm rays on your skin, as you walked along the boardwalk to the resort. A rare day off in the summer season warranted a trip to Ginger Island and it seemed that many other residents had the same idea. An assortment of individuals scattered about the sandy beaches of the island, some soaking up rays while others chatted amongst themselves near the crystal clear waters. Your flip flops made contact with the sand and you let out a sigh of contentment, What a nice day.

Yet, out of the blue, your throat tightened and you groaned from the sensation, suddenly parched. Yoba, I need a drink. Thankfully, Gus had set up shop at the rental bar, serving drinks and snacks to the beach attendees. You made a beeline for the bar and greeted Gus with a smile, “Gus, my man, how are you?”

“Oh, (Y/N)!” the bartender flashed you a smile, “Things are well, very busy today. Can I get you a drink? Maybe a snack?” you eyed the menu and pondered your options, “I’ll take a mango smoothie,” you placed your order with Gus. He gave you a thumbs up and walked over to the blender, dumping the ingredients and blending them. Gus poured out the smoothie and garnished it with a little umbrella, “One mango smoothie.”

“Thanks,” you dropped a few G in the bartender’s hands. You took the smoothie and scanned the shore for any good spots to sunbathe. That was when you saw him, Elliott lounging on a striped beach towel with his glorious chest on display for all to see. Your face heated up at the sight and averted your gaze, not wanting to get caught staring at him like a creep. However, Elliott must have caught you anyway when he exclaimed, “(Y/N), my friend! Come here, please!”

You fulfilled his request and approached Elliott, plopping down in the sand next to him, “Hey, Ellie,” the nickname rolled off your tongue cheekily, “Enjoying the weather?” the redhead nodded, his ponytail bouncing with the movement, “Yes, yes, indeed. Despite living on the beach back home, Ginger Island’s waters seem more lively and fresh.”

“You think so?” you eyed the ocean before the two of you and sipped on your smoothie, “I guess it does look clearer than the beach back home,” you watched the people in the water, such as Kent guiding a floatie-wearing Vincent farther into the sea and Leah’s braided hair and snorkel straw poking out above the water. It brought a smile to your face, to see the residents of Pelican Town enjoy the wonders of Ginger Island.

“Oh, (Y/N),” you perked up at the sound of Elliott’s voice. He held out a bottom of sunscreen, SPF 70 to be exact, “Could you do me a favor and apply sunscreen to my back? I burn quite easily and I’m not flexible enough to apply it myself.”

“Of course,” you took the sunscreen and gestured to Elliott to lay down on the towel. He laid on his stomach and pushed his ponytail out of the way, allowing his back to be completely exposed. Your mouth watered at the sight of his toned back, adorn with freckles galore and prominent muscles. You had no clue why he was so in-shape, given his lifestyle of eight hour writing sessions and daily trips to the saloon for his meals. 

“Everything alright?” the writer questioned. You shook off your stupor and replied, “Yes! Just zoned out,” you uncapped the sunscreen and squeezed the white goop into your hands. You leaned closer to Elliott’s back and began applying the sunscreen, massaging it deep into his skin. Elliott let out a soft groan from your motions, He must have a sensitive back. 

“Need me to pause?” you asked. Elliott lifted his head up enough so you could clearly hear his response, “No need, I’m simply tender when it comes to my back. Please resume,” you squirted more sunscreen on your hands and swung one leg over Elliott’s legs, sitting down on his ass so you could get better leverage. 

Elliott let out a squeak of surprise, but quickly settled down and allowed you to resume your work. You continued to massage the sunscreen into his skin, humming a tune to yourself while you did so. Finally, after a few minutes, you finished up and announced to Elliott, “All done!” you hopped off his backside. Elliott turned himself over and smiled at you, “Thank you, (Y/N). I much appreciate it.”

“Of course, no–” you cut yourself short, your eyes locked in on Elliott’s crab-patterned swim shorts. Without realizing, the writer was displaying a proud erection, you held back a squeak of your own and hastily shielded his boner with your body. Elliott tilted his head like a confused puppy, “What’s wrong?”

“Ellie…” you swallowed your spit hard, “You got a, uh… you got a boner.”

Elliott’s eyes widened in shock and immediately covered the tent in his swim shorts with his towel, “Oh, dear! I’m so very sorry, (Y/N). I don’t know why I have one, I must go and take care of that,” with his towel as a shield, Elliott rose from the sand and walked over to the bathroom. 

To both parties’ surprise, you stood up after him and grabbed him by the wrist, “Wait, I…” you stared down at the sand, “It’s kinda my fault you, uh… have that little issue. Do you, uh–” your face was flushed with embarrassment, “I can take care of it.”

Elliott’s jaw dropped at your proposition, his freckled face a lovely shade of tomato red, “Oh! Oh my, I–” he covered up his surprise with a faux cough, “I wouldn’t… be opposed to that. Meet me in the family restroom,” he then entered the bathrooms. You waited a few moments, not wanting to arouse suspicion, before heading inside. Mustering up some courage, you approached the family restroom and opened the door. Inside, Elliott sat on the pull-out chair, towel still covering his boner. You gave him a small wave, “Hey.”

“Hello,” he returned the pleasantries. You walked up to him and removed the towel, staring down at Elliott’s boner. Elliott let out an awkward cough and you broke eye contact with the boner, “Sorry,” you apologized, twiddling your thumbs, “Do you want me… to suck you off?”

“That should do the job,” he answered, “If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“I’m okay with it,” you reassured the freckle-faced man, “Can– Can you pull your shorts down?” the writer nodded in confirmation and slowly slid off his swim shorts, his cock now free from its confinement. You gawked at its appearance, the mushroom tip red and angry with some pre-cum leaking out. It was on the bigger side, maybe six or seven inches, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. After all, you were referred to as “The Blowjob Master” back in college for your blowjob skills. 

You folded up your towel and made a makeshift pillow, placing it on the water-soaked floor and resting your knees on it. Timidly, you placed your hands on Elliott’s thighs- Yoba, those thighs could crush watermelons- you waved off your horny thoughts and looked up at Elliott, “Are you ready?”

“I am,” he patted you on your head, “Thank you for your help again.”

“Of course, anything for you,” you flashed him a small smile. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the shaft and gave the tip a tentative lick. Elliott stifled back a moan, his face now a deeper red. You carefully guided his cock in your mouth and once inside, you began to suck Elliott off. The writer bit down on his hand to silence his moans while you bobbed your head up and down on his dick. 

Yoba, this exchange felt otherworldly to Elliott, his crush down on their knees and sloppily blowing him. Spit leaked from your mouth and onto the remainder of Elliott’s shaft, coating it in the bubbling substance. With his free hand, Elliott found his way into your hair and tightly pulled at it, earning a moan from you that vibrated down his whole cock. 

Elliott’s eyes rolled into the back of his skull when you managed to find his weak spot, a vein directly under the tip of his dick. You licked and nipped at it, relishing in Elliott’s descent into madness from your cocksucking skills. In one swift motion, you took his full length in your mouth, your nose touching his beautifully manscaped bush. 

Elliott held out a muffled moan and promptly climaxed, shooting ropes of hot cum down your throat and into your tummy. You groaned against his shaft while he orgasmed and as soon as he finished, you pulled yourself off his cock and wiped off any excess cum from your lips. Elliott cleaned off any spit and cum from his now flaccid cock; he then put his swim shorts back on and gave you a relieved smile, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you winked, “I’ll see you outside?” Elliott nodded, “Yes, I just need a moment,” you gave him a thumbs up and exited the bathroom, leaving Elliott to his own devices. The redhead approached the mirror and steadied himself, hands gripping the sink hard.

“I need to buy them flowers as a thank you gift.”

enough sobbing, rewatch the Dressrosa arc for new screenshots yes ✅

all y'all 14 Barto fans rise up, he's alive and well oda told me himself!!!!

when i started writing this comic, there were courses on duolingo for klingon and dothraki, fictional languages that are only spoken by characters on television shows who don’t exist, but the course for yiddish, a language spoken by jews – real, living, breathing people – for generations, didn’t exist until april 2021.

in 2017 a jewish employee at the anne frank museum was asked to put a baseball cap over his yarmulke. yeah, you read that right – an employee who worked in the house anne frank and her family hid for two years was asked to hide his judaism when he came into work. 

what i’m saying is goyim are trying very hard to pretend jewish people don’t exist anymore, and it’s safer for a man to tattoo a swastika on his face than it is for me to wear a necklace with a symbol of my culture on it.

You Kissed the Clown? Part 12

Just when I thought I'd take a break from the series, I had a small little brain wave. Thank you, Spotify for blessing my playlist with Amir and Indila in my time of need. My French is very limited, but I love the vibe.

Word Count: 2,487

Part 11 back here, Masterlist here.

“Hey, uh,” your bandana clad crewmate uttered, placing a hand sheepishly at the back of his neck as he intruded on your private moment shared with Buggy, “we kind of need him back on deck for a minute.”

You brought your lips together from their slightly agape former position, the shock continuing to roll over you in waves at the confession from the captain of the Buggy-Pirates’ severed head.

“Just a moment, Usopp,” you said, attempting to mask your chattering teeth with a small smile at him. You brought your gaze back to the wide and agitated teal eyes of the unpredictable and dangerous clown who sat unmoving atop the wooden box. He appeared to be staring directly at the wooden wall of the hallway, his eyes glazed over as he withdrew into the recesses of the void within his thoughts.

“Buggy,” you said through a calm and steady voice. He threw his gaze against your own, eyes wide at the way you eloquently spoke his name.

“Do you have an answer for me?” he uttered frantically, “will you accept my-,”

“We have company,” you hurriedly said to him, nodding your head toward your awaiting crewman.

He snapped his gaze up to meet the awkward-looking expression forming on Usopp’s face and groaned in an almost growling fashion.

“What now?” he yelled in frustration, “lost your direction again? How do you lot even get anywhere?!”

“Unless it escaped your recollection,” you again spoke slowly, bringing his gaze to peel away from Usopp and halt his rage, “we are journeying to find our navigator.”

Buggy again groaned and rolled his eyes at you before stifling himself.

“Fine, I’ll navigate. But you,” he said hopping to face Usopp in his addressal, “need to actually follow the directions I give you! And you,” his voice softened as he hopped around to face you once more; “you need to be the one carrying me up to top deck.”

You laughed through your nose and shook your head, eyes falling to the ground at his softness in his orders towards you.

“Alright,” you confirmed with a nod, bringing your attention back to Usopp, “would you mind returning the bento to the kitchen, Usopp? I’ll have my hands full with this one,” you tilted your head toward the clown head, prompting Buggy to smile broadly, baring all of his teeth at Usopp in victory.

Usopp raised his hands defensively and almost eagerly brought himself to the rewrapped bento box, uttering a quick; “I’m good with that,” before retreating immediately to the kitchen.

Giggling at Usopp’s lack of apprehension to complete a chore and his swift retreat, you arched your back and clicked your neck before rising to your feet. You bent your torso over and clasped again the cheeks of the clown you had come to enjoy the company of and stabilised your grip beneath his jaw with your palms.

“Come on then,” you said while hoisting him into the air and holding him in front of you, your brows knitting together as you watched him hold his sites on your cleavage. His mouth hung slightly agape as his eyes glazed over once more in deep thought while hyper-fixated on your breasts.

 “Buggy,” you warned him with a purse of your lips and an arched left brow.

He shook his head before creasing his brows in anger.

“What do you expect from me?” he growled at you, “you’re the one that exposed that small amount of skin to me when you bent down to retrieve me! C’mon, baby.”

His eyes darkened, gulping before once again speaking; “it’s been so very long since I’ve seen you, and I know exactly what that flesh feels like when you pressed yourself against me under the big top tent.”

Your eyes widened as he continued speaking his inner most thoughts to you.

“Just you wait until I get my body back,” he threatened with a growl released between gritted teeth.

You smiled at his vague threat and, before you quite knew what you were doing; you brought his head close to your face and brushed your nose against his affectionately and hummed at him in adoration. You heard his breath hitch in his throat at your movement, prompting you to quickly break him away from your face; eyes wide in embarrassment.

“I am so sorry,” you spoke slowly, emphasising every word clearly in apologies. His eyes focussed completely on the red hue you had claimed from the face paint he adorned on his large nose onto the tip of your own. His lips quivered slightly as he searched for one of the many emotions he was currently brimming with, continuing to lock his eyes on your nose.

Your eyes continued to remain wide as you bore them into the green-blue irises of the clown-captain; hoping he didn’t think too poorly of you at your lack of self-control.

“Sheesh, and you call a simple kiss a relinquishment of my bodily autonomy,” he laughed at you while mocking your tone, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Although I’m slightly offended you went straight for my greatest insecurity, I’m not angry about it.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as your prior warm exterior returned to you. You began to turn him around to face the direction you needed to walk to; beginning your climb toward the hull.

You found the assigned barrel on the navigator’s post and placed him atop the wooden lid. You leant against the railing closed to the barrel and relished under the heat of the sun’s rays and the smell of the open sea. Buggy hopped slightly on it to maneuver his way to face you again, opening his mouth to speak.

“Eyes on the water, clown,” you heard a warning tone rise from the stairs, prompting a frustrated groan to exit from between the clown’s lips.

Limping slightly up the stairs, Zoro began his ascension to the navigator’s booth and plonked himself down against one of the railings of the hull. You smiled at him prompting him to roll his eyes at you and throw a piece of material at you. You quirked your head at him and furrowed your brows, a prominent red hue rising as he gestured silently to your nose with his right index finger.

Quickly, you began wiping at your nose; removing, much to your complete embarrassment, grease-paint from your face that you unwittingly collected from the nose of Buggy.

“I don’t need to look at the water, y’know? I can feel when my body is close,” he said, hopping around again to face the crew.

“That so, clown?” Zoro uttered in a lazy, monotonous tone, “want to go back in the barrel?”

A small growl left the lips of Buggy’s severed head as he reluctantly turned back to face the direction the ship was sailing in. You chuckled lightly and shook your head in response to the little quarrel between the two of them. Zoro coughed, bringing your attention to return to him.

Wordlessly again, he pulled out your tools from your side satchel and tossed them to you within their folded, leather satchel. You caught the bag and nodded at him in thanks before arching your brow up at him in question as to why he brought them to you. He flinched slightly at the tight pinch of his fresh stitches, turning to retrieve something wrapped in a fine, woven cloth from his side and place it on the floor, sliding it along the polished boards toward you.

You stooped to collect the material from the ground, you unwrapped it to see two dark hilts of his broken blades and sorrow overcame you. You placed the open material on the floor and joined it by kneeling on the floor beside it.

“Anything you can do?” he uttered quietly to you. You examined the remnants of the blade, each steel piece collected and assembled like a jigsaw puzzle under your fingertips. You sighed at the pieces, opening your tool satchel and looking.

“They won’t be nearly as strong as they once were,” you uttered, tracing your fingers over the material, “and I hope you like kintsugi.”

He smiled sadly at your confession, looking to the blades on the floor.

“What do you need to make them stronger?” he scooted himself closer to you on the floor, wincing all the way and bringing himself in front of you. You took a moment to pause your thoughts, searching your mind for a semblance of recollection regarding armoury and weapon smithery.

“I’m a finery smith, love,” you addressed him with a small smile, placing your bound hand on his knee in comfort, “however-.”

Your words were halted at the heavy footsteps of the approaching Usopp as he climbed the steps to the navigator’s post.

“I’m here, I’m here! Never fear,” you threw your head back and hung it on your neck as you mimicked the words next spoken, “the great Captain Usopp is here!”

You made eye contact again with Zoro and scrunched your nose in a jesting smile.

“Where to, uh- weird head-man?” he asked, looking to the watchful eyes of Buggy as his eyes bore ferocity at the beautiful interaction displayed between the swordsman and his girl.

“Twelve degrees hard to port,” he spat, turning back to view the ocean rather than keeping his gaze fixed on Zoro and you any longer. You brought your eyes up to look to Buggy, not understanding where his venom was pooling from.

“You were saying?” Zoro’s softly spoken words brought your attention back to the swords that lay in front of the both of you. You sighed and creased your brows to look back at the two broken katanas.

“Listen,” you said gesturing down to the blades, “I can only do what I can with the limited supplies aboard the ship. I’d need a forge, molten steel of the same origin and make as this, and an anvil that’s bigger than the desktop one I keep in my cabin.”

 Zoro growled a little at the thought, looking down at the blades; “what can you do with what you have now? I’m a tri-sword wielder, I don’t do single blade combat.”

“Again,” you softened your voice, “kintsugi wasn’t suggested just to be cruel to you. I would frame them, set them in gold and mount them for you in memory.”

You sighed and gazed at the ground, “if you find me a forge and an anvil, it will take me two sleepless weeks to repair them for you to the best of my ability; but I am a finery smith. My younger brother is a swordsmith, but he’s on the other side of the East Blue.”

--

Buggy’s ear twitched at the conversation, hanging on your every word. He’d get you a forge. He’d get you a bunch of them if you left the crew and bound yourself to his side. Judging by the way your fingers brushed against the knee of the swordsman, he was seeing the prospect of your disbandment from your current crew less and less likely. He snarled his lip upwards as a bitter flavour entered his mouth at the thought of how close you truly were to them. Perhaps you graced the green-haired brat with a kiss as deep as the one you gave him every night.

He'd eavesdropped on enough of your conversations to understand the depth of the intensity you held for your crew, but as his ear lay flat against the red band on Luffy’s straw hat; anything could’ve transpired between the two of you in his absence.

“The best I can do is torch one of my other steel pieces, keep it atop a heavy frame in one of Sanji’s copper bowls and solder the pieces together; but be warned, love,” your voice broke him out of his jealously and held him once again captivated, “it won’t be nearly as sharp or as well balanced as it once was.”

--

“How soon can you see it done?” Zoro asked you, hardening his expression at his old blades in deep thought.

“Five days with absolutely no distractions,” you nodded your head, seriousness overtaking your prior friendly interaction, “longer still if you want me to rehash the inner bands for you in an attempt to rebalance the blades.”

Zoro sighed and leant his arms down to rest atop his knees. He chuckled a little and rose his eyes back from the swords and met with your eyes.

“I suppose that’s one way to keep you out of trouble,” he chuckled, “can’t have you attempting to kiss a fishman or two to escape your trouble.”

You audibly groaned at his jest and shook your head from side to side with a broad smile. He laughed a little at his own joke as he watched you carefully place the assortment of steel pieces back within the material and lace the band around itself to keep all pieces secured.

He reached his hand forward and clasped your right wrist within his palm, prompting you to look up with him with an arched brow.

“Thank you,” he uttered quietly, firmly squeezing your hand to emphasise his gratitude.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” you smiled in return, “I could absolutely fuck them up beyond repair, but I’ll do my best.”

Zoro allowed a full belly laugh to escape from the chasms of his chest, wincing as he grasped the exterior slash mark of his torso as it stung under his movements.

Again shaking your head, you began to assemble your tinkering tools to inspect them, noting the scalpel that injured you earlier had been refastened within the leather satchel.

“We’re close,” Buggy’s voice called from atop the barrel, turning to face the three of you with a deep, angry frown. His expression prompted you to rise to your feet and bring yourself closer to him.

“Are you ok? What’s wrong?” you frantically searched your eyes over his face with your own frown searching, you reached your hand forward and smoothed it over his bandana and resting it against his cheek to calm him.

He leant against your palm, closing his eyes at the affection he received from you before opening them again.

“Darts,” he uttered against your palm, “they’re throwing pointed darts and just leaving them there.”

Your face darkened again, prompting you to turn to face the ships ever loyal First-Mate and address him.

“Swordsman,” you uttered, barely controlling your own rage, “in return for reforging your blades for you-.”

He rose to his feet as Fishman-Island came into view before you, the shore clapping against the coastal line as the tide rolled in.

“Tear them apart,” you whispered a dark order to the green-haired knight at your side.

“You got it, Tinkerer,” Zoro replied with a dark smirk of his own, relishing at the knowledge he was going to fight once more.

Part 13

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