The Look Of A Man Who Is About To Try To Invent The 300 Sword Style

Well... I haven't touched tumbler in years.. I'll throw some of my art here ☝️

how writers feel knowing that they will never be able to read their own work for enjoyment (they wrote it with the intent of making something they haven’t seen before)

Why this moss head looks so mad 😭🙏🙏

If You Thought It Was Real Pt. II

Pt. I

Pt. III

The town felt smaller, somehow. When they first docked it was bustling, vendors on every street, people talking and laughing. Silence felt like a thing of the past. 

It was almost like a ghost town, with how it felt now.

It was darker outside, the sun still slowly setting over the horizon. Shades of orange cast shadows as he walked, flip-flops hitting the ground, the noise echoing around him. He had told the others to stay on the ship, even though Zoro was determined to follow him out there.

They had spent the first day discussing what had happened regarding you and drawn this conclusion: you’d set your sights on them, and Sanji, with intentions. It wasn’t a rare fact that Sanji was a flirt who wore his heart on his sleeve, and it appeared you had taken advantage of this and gained his trust, worming your way onto the ship to steal Nami’s barely finished map.

Sanji had attempted to pretend he didn’t care, although Luffy knew he was holding onto your note in his chest pocket, and even though his eyes were more watery than normal.

The discussion of what had happened quickly delved into what would happen. Sanji said he didn’t care, but the wobbly lips that held his cigarette told another story. Nami wanted her map back, as well as the berri she later realized you had stolen as well.

Luffy wasn’t one who got tied in romantic drama; he didn’t care who was with whom, but he did care when the who in question hurt his nakama.

And despite his watery smiles and forced cheeriness, you had hurt Sanji.

Fists clenched at his side, Luffy paused in his walking, focusing on nothing in front of him. Perhaps some of the issue came from the fact that Luffy had also trusted you. That he’d begun to truly consider you one of his friends. Though his priority, in this situation, was his nakama. He’d deal with his issues at a later date.

The first issue at hand was finding you.

You’d mentioned before that you lived in one of the local inns, that it was part of your payment for the work you did in this port. But checking with some of the nearer innkeepers, the only conclusion he’d gotten was you didn’t live there, and the questioning of your whereabouts was enough to make a flash of fear shine in their eyes.

The picture he’d painted was beginning to change the more he wandered.

“Excuse me?”

He glanced up, his glare turning from the ground to the young woman who was beckoning for his attention.

She was partly hidden in the shadows, peeking at him from an alleyway she had ducked into. 

“You’re Monkey D. Luffy, aren’t you?” He blinked at the question, his glare faltering as he nodded, and she looked somewhat relieved. “Are you looking for your friend?”

He pondered for a moment before saying your name in a questioning tone. She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Do you know where she is?”

“Yes, I,” She bit her bottom lip, eyes darting away before coming back to him, “Are you going to help her?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Does she need my help?” 

She nodded, quick and sharp, “She… They should be at the tavern two blocks that way,” She pointed further up the way he had been walking, “Siren’s Heart. She’ll be there.”

Nodding, he didn’t say much else, walking further down the cobblestone path. 

“Please, help her.” He didn’t respond to the woman’s whispered plea, wondering if he kept walking, if he could pretend he hadn’t heard it.

The walk grew louder as he neared the bar; music was pouring out into the streets, and drunk men were bumbling about, laughing loudly. One man bumped into Luffy, and under any other circumstances, he’d have laughed it off, but he didn’t even blink as the drunk man fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

“Watch it, asshole!”

He sent him one brief glare, barely tapping into his conqueror’s haki, before continuing his walk, paying no mind to the man trembling at his friend's feet. 

The bar was loud. It wasn’t unusual, but after spending so many days aboard the Sunny, it felt jarring.

The dress you had on was uncomfortable. It wasn’t new, it’s a stupid piece you’ve had for months. Too tight where you didn’t want it to be, every breath felt shallow, lest you break your ribs against the fabric, and your legs were far too uncovered. Maybe in another life you would have worn something like this out for fun with friends, nothing on your mind but a good night.

A stupid voice whispered in another world that those friends could have been Nami and Robin.

Another shot silenced that voice rather quickly.

A hand gripped your thigh, the feeling causing you to jump, mind hazy as you turned, blinking slowly.

“C’mon, girly.” The smell of peanuts, vodka, and bad breath invaded your senses, and you couldn’t stop yourself from cringing. “You’re far too quiet tonight.”

Thanks jackass, my throat hurts. You just smiled at him, small and simple, “Sorry— lost in thought!” You tacked on a giggle at the end, watching as his seedy eyes lit up.

The bruises littering your body weren’t covered by fabric or makeup. Why hide them when they served to remind you and everyone around you what happened when you didn’t abide by the rules perfectly? You learned that there was an unspoken rule regarding the timeline of getting the map. 

You were led to the man's table, wobbly on the heels they stuffed you in, liquor making your body warm and your balance nonexistent. It was easy to dissociate once you were seated, downing drinks handed your way, leaning against the older man’s side, his arm wrapped around your waist, fingers dangerously close to brushing against your behind. 

The drunker he got, the more he babbled about all the valuable items he and his men had recently found, and you realized through your haze why he was invited out this evening. You didn’t need anyone to come see you to tell you what you were aiming for tonight, this was the usual song and dance. You were so wrapped up in your mind, still timing your smiles and laughter just right, you failed to notice the hush that had fallen in the bar.

Through the ever-growing silence you heard your name, harsh and cold. You shifted, realizing at some point you’d move to lay your head on the table, the cool wood nice against your flushed face. You turned, the blurry outline of a person growing closer. You heard a familiar sound, a muffled slapping sound, which you began to recognize as flip-flops hitting the floor.

That realization had you shooting up, the hazy features coming clear as he stood right by your table: Luffy.

“L-Luffy?”

He didn’t respond, but the look on his face was enough to make your mouth slam shut. He looked mad, it was almost unnatural to see such an expression on his face. In the short time you had been aboard the Sunny, the captain had been all smiles and laughter: it made you occasionally wonder if they gave him the title of ‘Captain’ to be nice.

But seeing the storm that the man before you, you had a sinking realization that all the rumors you had heard before this mission were true. 

You’d forgotten cruel men could wear smiles as bright as the sun.

“You hurt Sanji.” Was all he responded, voice low.

“I,” Your throat felt dry, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously, hoping it would provide some sort of relief.

His eyes studied your face amid your silence, gaze dropping slowly down your throat, narrowing ever so slightly as he took in the fresh bruises on your skin. 

“Huh, so that’s what she meant.” He muttered to himself, crouching down some that he was face to face with you, the brim of his hat brushing against your forehead.

With him so close, you felt like you were suffocating, terrified to keep holding eye contact, but so much more terrified to break it.

“Hey, boy,” A hand clasped Luffy’s shoulder. 

You recognized the voice. Hel was the one who did recon in the bar when needed; this was his territory. But Luffy didn’t so much as move, his gaze locked on your face.

“What business you got with our girl here?”

That question had one of his eyebrows ticking, a subtle shift in his expression. “Your girl?”

“Yeah.” Hel chuckled, dark and annoyed, his grip on Luffy’s shoulder tightening, “So I’ll ask again; what business do you—”

It happened so quickly that you missed it, despite your eyes being open and locked on Luffy. One moment, Hel was behind him, the next he was feet away, crashed through the wooden bar, blood already pouring down his forehead, eyes barely open as he slumped over.Now standing, Luffy turned his back towards you, staring at your unconscious boss, “She’s not your girl. She’s Sanji’s, which means she’s mine.”

Taglist: @hannahbarberra162

MY BOY! THEY'VE ERASED MY BOY!! they deleted him & decided to zoom in on him making heart eyes at Bonney btw.....

you’ve changed (for the better)

for @where-does-the-heart-lie ‘s fighting game au I love ur designs I love them dearly

As The Day Slips By

|Master-list|

Ace x Reader, angst, mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, soley for comforting purposes, platonic love with the White-beard Pirates.

Summary: Things get rough, and hit by hit you’re just tired of it all.

A/N: To anyone who needs this, I hope it helps. You’re a lot stronger than you think >:) @uramakimochi

•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•

It started small.

From a simple mistake, to the tragedies of your life to the very questioning of your future. You were scared. Of living, no, correction—surviving, to just existing to fail.

The lingering question consumed you:

Would it even be worth it?

With all the trouble you’ve gone through now?

The expectations, the asks, the responsibilities—would you ever meet them?

Would you ever accomplish them?

The wind replied, brushing past as you stood on the Moby Dick, stationed near the stern. The sun was setting, and the decks were quiet. The aftermath of dinner flew by, and the crew headed to bed, while others slipped to night-watch.

Crying, you lowered yourself to the rail. resting your head against your arms. An unbearable feeling took over, and it made your chest tight. Numbing, and lost, you now experienced while in the inevitable of your depression.

You knew it wouldn’t be long till someone found you, but you needed to let it out, to breathe. Especially after hours of avoiding a hot-headed pirate.

Ace’s and your relationship had been on a rocky stand-hold. You weren’t opening up, and you were avoiding the topic of obvious like the plague, even if offered help. Anxiety prevented you from speaking out, while the simmering stubbornness left you lost.

You hadn’t realized it, but he’d been watching from afar; lingering as you made yourself small and hidden, left achingly worried.

Ace took a step, but hesitated. He was scared if he made the wrong move, he might just break you.

You’d already drifted so far, to the point Ace, the crew—everyone saw it. The heaviness that surrounded you, a silent weight that held you back, and a mindless stare the left them nervous.

It wasn’t impossible to reach you, the crew understood that, and Ace knew it better than anyone; he just needed to find the right words.

He needed to find the right time, and that was now.

Ace’s steps were quiet, just like the way you cried. He didn’t want to startle you—that was the last thing he wanted, and it was the last thing you needed.

Carefully, he came to your side, just barely brushing your shoulder. Inviting, but not pressuring.

Watching the waves, a moment passed before he spoke.

“You weren’t at dinner.”

You sniffled, wiping your tears to turn away. “I was busy…with something.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I figured.”

Silence shrouded, and you couldn’t find the courage to speak. You felt weak, vulnerable—incompetent.

Though, Ace never pushed.

Not really, anyway.

“Have you. . .” Another painful moment.

“. . . been thinking about it again?” he asked, leaning against the rail. His tone was soft, not accusing, just questioning… and sad.

Ace wasn’t judging, he’d never, but his comment laced your throat. You were left speechless, drowning in your own shame and his truth, by his blunt words.

You managed a shaky breath, subtly squeezing the rail. You felt frozen.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, placing his hand by yours. “I get it, I really do.”

His pinky inched forward, wrapping around your own. To anyone, it’d feel small, but to you—in a moment like this?

It meant a lot.

“You don’t even need to give me a reason.”

Wind rustled by, combing your hair and smearing your tears.

“I’m just tired, Ace,” you whispered, turning to him. “I’m so tired of this.” your voice cracked, and he held your gaze.

His expression turned, and he tensed.

Ace’s eyes glossed with tears, and he stepped forward—almost fiercely. But not pushing.

His arms extended, and softly, he whispered your name. “Come here.”

You took a weak step forward, and in an instant he hugged you. “It’s okay,” he muttered, grabbing the back of your head. “It’s gonna be okay. You hear me?”

You collapsed against him, clutching his shirt— as if it was the only thing keeping you there.

Because truthfully, it was.

“Its just so hard.” you choked.

“I know.” he held you, holding you to the point you couldn’t breath. But you couldn’t care, you needed this more than anything.

“I know it is.”

The sky welled blue, stirring in with darker colors and gray clouds. Seagulls flew over-head, nesting in the ship brackets and windows to hide for a storm.

Just like you were in Ace’s arms, sheltered from your mind. Safe.

“I got you,” Ace’s voice wavered, but it was grounding. With pouring emotion he kissed your temple. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not letting go, you’re stuck with me.”

“You got that?”

You managed a nod, and he held you closer.

“You don’t have to be strong for me,” he whispered, “you never do, not even for the crew. You just have to stay. That’s it, just stay.”

You cried, tilting your head and he cupped the back of it. “What am I gonna do?” You voiced, looking up to him. “I-I dont, I don’t know anymore.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Ace said firmly, brushing your tears. “You always do, it just takes time. Just a little more time, just me and you, it’ll be okay.”

“What if it isn’t—what if I screw everything up?”

“You won’t ____. You never do. Nothing is perfect, you can’t always expect that of yourself.”

Ace’s finger poked your forehead, making you wince. “Don’t listen to that, whatever it’s telling you—ignore it. It’s just being a pain in the ass, and you don’t deserve it.”

A softer moment passed, border-lining vulnerable. “You hear me?”

“Yeah…” you whispered, wiping your tears.

“Good. You got it, maybe not now, but you will. I know you will.” Ace kissed the corner of your eye, bringing his head forehead to yours. His nose grazed the tip of yours, and his voice sounded below a whisper.

“I love you,” he murmured. “No matter what happens, that’ll never change, okay?”

“Okay.”

For the first time in weeks, maybe even months— you could breathe. Finally breathe. Under the light drizzle of rain, his reassurance, and love, broke through the numb that swallowed you whole.

The wind brisked cold, and you shivered stepping closer.

“Shh,” he hushed, heating his body to warm you. “It’s okay, I got you.”

Like a blanket out of the dryer, the fire of his body heat surrounded you, following to your heart. Completed in his presence, Ace was by your side, and he made it clear he wasn’t letting you go.

Not for a long time.