#react with them

[DONQUIXOTE DOFLAMINGO]

The warm water from the shower beat down on you, its heat soothing your aching muscles. The day had been exhausting. The endless back-and-forth with Trebol and Diamante, the constant tension of staying one step ahead of the marines, and that damn bullet wound at your side all combined to totally drain you of every bit of energy you had left for the rest of the month, really.

The ship rocked gently beneath your feet, almost like a cradle, and your eyelids grew heavy. With the steam enveloping you, you almost dozed off, too. Really, you would have slept in the shower if you could, but alas.

And then, you heard the unmistakable sound of the bathroom door creaking open.

Who was that, now?

Before you could even open your eyes, however, you felt Doflamingo's voice as he casually slipped into the shower with you.

“Make some room for me, too."

You grumbled, not bothering to move over, too comfortable in your spot. But he wasn't one to wait for permission. He shoved you aside with a gentle but firm push, though it still did agitate your wound all the same, while his tall frame crowded into the small space with you.

Really, you spend the whole day together, and yet he still couldn't leave your side even for half an hour, evidently.

The second he stepped under the water, however, a hiss escaped his lips.

"Are you trying to figure out what Hell feels like or something?" he cursed, the hot steam already reddening his skin. He tried to force himself to stay under the burning water, and his face was contorted in agony as he shifted awkwardly, trying to get used to the heat.

You couldn’t help yourself and laughed at his pained expression. It suited him very well, in your opinion. "With you, I'm already halfway there anyway," you joked, your tone laced with mock sweetness, just the way he did. Well, you had indeed learned from the best. "Get out if you can't handle it, you big baby."

Instead of stepping back, however, he grabbed the shampoo bottle from the shelf and squirted some into his hand before beginning to lather it into his hair. He was also pouting dramatically as he did so, of course, as if that was somehow going to change anything.

Well, you sure as hell didn't plan to turn the heat down anytime soon.

"I knew you were a witch," he grumbled, his annoyance clearly visible. "Now help me wash my back so I can get out before I look like a half-boiled lobster like you."

[DONQUİXOTE ROSINANTE]

It was winter, and after spending what felt like hours outside, braving the freezing winds, your body was throbbing from the cold. Oh, you hated the winter so much! The snow had piled up around your boots, some even getting in it and wetting your socks, and you could feel every inch of your skin shivering as you opened the door to your little home. The first thing you wanted, no, needed, was a hot shower, that was for sure.

You slipped inside, kicking off your boots by the door so you wouldn't get everywhere wet. As you entered the living room, though, something hit your nose: the smell of cigarettes.

"Rosi?" you called, your voice was slightly muffled by the thick scarf still wrapped around your neck. It was unusual for him to be this early.

Then, there was a sudden sound of something banging in the kitchen, followed by Rosinante’s familiar voice. "Oh! You're home! I was just about to cook!"

Oh, God...

"Please put out the smoke, then," you said, while making your way towards him. "Last time the soup had ashes in it."

Rosinante chuckled sheepishly at the reminder. "Oh, yeah, sorry!" he said, and threw the cigarette into the sink before washing it away.

You sighed. The heat from inside was a welcome relief, but nothing would feel as good as the warm water you were about to step into.

"If you haven't started yet," you called over your shoulder as you made your way toward the bathroom, "we can shower together first. Then I can help you with the cooking." And give yourself the chance to make sure he didn't actually forget it in the oven and burn the house down.

"That sounds good," Rosinante smiled, and walked after you.

"What were you planning on making?"

"Lasagna."

"Do we have all the ingredients? I'm pretty sure we don’t have any cheese left."

"I already got everything we need from the market," he said, puffing his chest out a little, looking ridiculously proud of himself.

"Great," you said, and smiled at him. Then, you slipped into the bathroom, while Rosinante went ahead to fetch some towels.

The bathroom was warm, and you quickly undressed, placing your hair tie next to the sink. You stepped into the shower and turned the water on to the perfect temperature; almost boiling, just the way you liked it.

The steam instantly surrounded you, and the water stung at first, but then, it felt incredible, and you let out a soft sigh, relaxing under the cascade of warmth.

A few moments later, Rosinante appeared in the doorway, towels in hand, looking like he was trying to move quickly without slipping on the floor and cracking his head open. Again. He set the towels down on the toilet, undressed, and tossed both of your dirty clothes in the laundry basket. Then he joined you in the shower.

The moment he stepped in, however, you heard him hiss in pain, and his body jerked as though the heat had taken him by surprise. You turned to look at him, concerned.

"You okay?" you asked.

Rosinante smiled weakly, but his cheeks were already flushed, and he seemed to be struggling more than he wanted to admit.

"Y-Yeah...!" he stammered, as if you couldn't see how his skin had gotten red under the water, like he was barely able to tolerate it.

You decided to show him some pity.

"Would you like me to turn the heat down a little?"

"No, no!" he said quickly. "It’s fine, keep it as it is!"

You gave him a dubious look. "Are you sure? You look like you're getting tortured."

"I’m really fine...!" he insisted, his voice a little too high. To prove his point, he stepped further into the hot stream of water, the spray hitting his back directly. His back arched slightly under the pressure, however, and you saw the muscles tense in discomfort.

Really, this man...

"I'll just turn it down, wait a minute."

"No, I’m-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Shut it, love. It’s clear you’re suffering."

Rosinante kept insisting that it was fine, but you reached for the knob and turned the water down a few degrees regardless. The cold water came seconds later, cooling the heat. You didn't really enjoy it when the shower was barely warm like this, but you liked it even less to see Rosinante in so much pain.

"Better?"

He huffed, wrapped his hands around your back, and pulled you close. You noticed that despite the cooler water, his ears were still a bit flushed. "...Yeah."

[TRAFALGAR D. WATER]

It was one of those late nights where you just couldn’t sleep, restless and tossing around in your bed. And so, in true you fashion, you decided the best solution was to sneak out for a quick shower.

You tiptoed through the dark hallways of the ship, careful not to wake anyone up, while you tried your best not to hit anything on your way. You saw that Law was asleep on his desk again, surrounded by his damn medical books, that damn workaholic. Well, at least it benefited you this time.

You made it to the bathroom soon after and closed the door behind you with a quiet click. Quickly, you undressed and then stepped into the shower, letting the hot water rush over your body. A sigh escaped you as the heat melted away the tension in you. Really, this felt like heaven.

For a few minutes, you closed your eyes and let the steam rise and the water gush down your back. Warm water made you always so sleepy, too...

And then....

Knock knock.

You froze. It couldn’t be, no way, he had to be still sleeping! But sure enough, the familiar, impatient voice floated through the door.

"Hey, (Y/N), what are you doing?" Law asked, his tone suspicious.

You cursed under your breath and pressed a hand to your forehead. How did he always know? It was like he had an alarm that tracked your every move, warning him, no matter how stealthy you tried to be.

"Nothing!" you quickly shouted, and tried to drown out the sound of the water with your voice while twisting the knob to lower the water pressure. Maybe that would buy you a few more minutes of peace.

"Don't lie to me," Law huffed. If you closed your eyes, you could already imagine the frown on his face, ready to scold you. At this point, he was going to get wrinkles before even turning fifty. "You're boiling yourself there again, aren't you?"

It’s not that hot this time!" you called back, trying to sound convincing. "And I just got in!"

"You always say that. I hope you're telling the truth for your own sake. Because if you faint there again, I won’t be dragging you out of there!"

"It’s fine, Law, really! And that only happened once anyway!"

"And that's one time too many!"

"Well," you said, voice sweet and teasing, "I love you too!"

SIR CROCODILE

It was late evening, and you were sprawled on the bed with Crocodile by your side as you listened to the rain.

He was reading the news with a cigar resting between his lips, smoke curling lazily into the dim light of the room. His attention was fixed on whatever article he had found interesting, and his eyes scanned the lines as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Something about the World Government had made the front page, too, bold and dramatic, but you didn’t bother trying to follow it. It was most likely some propaganda, anyway.

The scent of his cigar drifted toward you. Once, you had hated it; it had been too bitter and sharp for your nose back then. But now, it settled around you like something familiar, something that gave you comfort. It meant he was here, after all, somewhere near you if not next to you.

You turned onto your side and looked at him.

For a moment, you just watched. You had not seen him the whole day, after all, and despite seeing each other every evening, the time felt too little, too short. Maybe it was time for a date? When was the last time you spent quality time together? If memory served right...before Cross Guild, which meant at least six months. Yeah, you should probably bring that up at breakfast.

Crocodile didn’t look at you, but you knew he noticed your gaze. He always did.

“What is it?” he asked, voice low, uninterested on the surface but attentive underneath.

You shrugged slightly and brushed your fingers against the soft fabric of his nightshirt before resting them on his chest.

“Just thinking how lucky I am to have you.” You smiled and shifted closer, letting your head rest against him. He was always so warm. Was it because of his Devil Fruit, perhaps? “I love you very much, you know?”

He scoffed when he heard that. It was a quiet, dismissive sound, like you’d said something foolish. Then, he turned the page of his newspaper as if nothing had happened without saying anything in return.

You didn't mind, of course. You were very well aware of how bad he was at verbalizing his feelings from the very beginning of the relationship. Communication was definitely not his strongest suit.

So you stayed where you were, hand resting over his heartbeat, listening to the faint rustle of paper and the slow burn of his cigar with your eyes closed and ready to fall asleep.

Minutes passed, and you had almost dozed off. Then, without a word, the paper lowered, and Crocodile shifted a bit. The cigar was extinguished and set aside without burning his fingers, and he got ready to sleep as well.

You moved to the side to let him get more comfortable in the bed, a bit cranky, but the arm that came around you made up for that, as you felt his huge, rough hand resting on your back.

Yes, you thought, this was definitely the best part of your day.

BUGGY THE CLOWN

You were in the shower while Buggy removed his makeup back in your shared bedroom.

It had been a long, exhausting day: running around Karai Bari, dealing with endless errands, messages, and whatever chaos came with being tied to something as big as the Cross Guild was not an easy task. At some point, piracy had stopped feeling like freedom and started feeling like… an assistant job.

You didn't really know how you really felt about this, exactly, but...that was something you would have to think about another day.

You sighed and leaned your forehead briefly against the cool tile, letting the water run over you. The warmth felt so nice.

You didn’t bother putting on much after: just one of Buggy’s oversized sweaters that nearly swallowed you whole. It still carried a faint trace of his usual scent: powder, smoke, and something oddly artificial and sweet. It was a weird mix, to say the least, but something you had grown to love.

You dried your hair quickly, very half-heartedly, not really caring if it was still damp, and stepped into the bedroom.

The first thing your eyes immediately landed on was the dressing table, and the total mess Buggy had left.

Wet wipes tossed aside, smudges of red and white, lipstick caps left open, stains scattered like evidence of a small disaster.

You sighed.

Morning problem, you decided then, seconds later. You’d scold him to clean his shit in the morning, after your cup of coffee.

Buggy was already in bed when you turned your attention back, leaning over the side as he rummaged through a drawer, muttering something under his breath. He was probably searching for his sleeping mask.

The room felt colder than the bathroom, but the moment you slipped under the blanket, the warmth wrapped around you instantly, and it was both heavy and comforting.

He noticed you then, and without wasting much time, one of his hands detached and stretched toward the lamp, clicking the light off with a soft snap. The room fell into darkness, lit only faintly by whatever slipped through the curtains of the tent's makeshift window.

You shifted closer and pressed against his side. You just loved snuggling with your clown while sleeping.

“I’m really lucky to have you, aren’t I…?” you mumbled, and yawned as your head hit the pillow.

Buggy froze, then, completely still under your arms, his exhaustion from seconds ago gone.

Then—

“W-Wha?! I-I mean…!” He stuttered, jerking upright, face heating instantly. Even in the dark, you could see it, the way his nose lit up like a little red Christmas light. You had to hold in your laughter after that, to not ruin the moment. Did your little praise delight him that much? “Of course you are! You’ve got GREAT taste, honey bunny! Not everyone can earn the Great Buggy’s affection, you know?!”

You decided to indulge him, then, like the attention junkie that he was. "Oh, yeah? I must be really lucky then."

His puffed his chest with pride and nodded. “Stick with me, and you’ll be even luckier..! I'M the best of the best, and I get only the best of the best for my darling, too!"

Then, he pulled you close, so close you could barely breathe, and then came the kisses. Kisses everywhere! Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone: every part of you that his red-tinted lips could reach! They were all quick, exaggerated, and over-the-top like everything he did as well.

“Buggy—!” you burst into laughter, squirming as you tried to push him away. “Stop! It tickles!”

“Gyahahaha! You started it! How can I fall asleep now when I feel so great?!"

DRACULE MIHAWK

Mihawk was already in bed when you entered, half-reclined against the headboard, a book open in one hand and a glass of wine resting on the drawer beside him when you found him.

The room was quiet, comfortably so. No chaos, no noise, all of that was left behind at the other side of the curtain that was supposed to be the tent's door. Now, all you could hear was just the faint rustle of pages turning and the occasional clink of glass when he reached for his drink as the clown's circus became a background noise.

You didn't call out to him, didn't need to, and instead, just slipped under the blanket and crawled closer, emerging at his side like a little caterpillar.

Mihawk didn't look at you, but he did notice you, and without a word, he shifted one of his arms and settled it around you.

This was his way of greeting you. He preferred to stay silent after getting so overstimulated the whole day while dealing with all the Cross Guild nonsense.

This had made holding the book slightly awkward, however, so you adjusted and pressed yourself closer to him, fitting yourself into his side so the book could rest more comfortably between his hands.

You didn't ask what he was reading; you never did. It was always something dense, something impossibly dry, anyway; pages filled with ideas that felt like they belonged to another century, with a lexicon so outdated that most couldn't even understand a word in the sentence, let alone the whole thing. Something only he, or perhaps a ninety-year-old philosopher, could truly enjoy, and made you want to pull out your own ears whenever he started to lecture you about it.

But that didn't matter. What did matter was this: the way his chest felt against your cheeks as he breathed, the way he absentmindedly caressed your back, and the slow, rhythmic thud of his heart against your ear.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment.

This was the best feeling in the world, wasn't it?

“I’m so lucky to have you, really,” you sighed softly, then, and pulled the blanket a little higher. “The best partner ever.”

Mihawk didn't react at first. Of course, he didn't, but he did look thoughtful. Maybe a bit more than usual, even.

Then, he said, "...Is that so?" and turned another page.

You wondered what was going through his overthinking head as the wind kept trying to push its way into the tent. It was not at all easy for him, these types of verbal affections.

Minutes passed.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Then, it was already half an hour.

At some point, you wondered if he would give a proper answer at all. Maybe he’d simply let the moment settle and move on, like he often did. Maybe he’d assume it didn’t need a response, since you already knew how much he loved you anyway.

Yeah, that was it, wasn't it?

Knowing that he would most likely keep reading until he finished the whole thing, you made yourself comfortable and tried to fall asleep. And that took no time at all. You were already drifting since you had finished all your tasks, your thoughts softening at the edges when you rested your head on the pillow and your mind ready to let the dreams start after such a tiring day when the man said—

[MONKEY D. LUFFY]

You had just wanted to relax and have a little moment for yourself when Luffy burst into the bathroom, his usual grin plastered across his face, and without skipping a beat, he shouted, “What are you doing? A bath? I'll take it with you!"

You froze, towel in hand, your face turning red at the unexpected intrusion. “Luffy!” you groaned, “What the hell are you doing? Wait! The water is far too-"

But it was already too late. Luffy, oblivious to your protests, had already stripped off his clothes and, with a reckless, carefree laugh, leapt into the bath with a loud splash.

The water churned, and half of the damn thing splattered out of the bathtub that you would have to clean later, as the sound of Luffy’s surprised yelp echoed throughout the bathroom. “Ow! What the hell?! That’s boiling!" He screamed and scrambled out of the tub as if it had suddenly turned into a fire pit, his face contorted in pain. "Are you trying to cook yourself?!”

You sighed and rubbed your temples. So typical. “That’s why I tried to warn you, Luffy,” you huffed, then tried not to laugh at his misery. “Next time, maybe listen to me, okay?”

He glared at the steam rising from the water, still too hot for his comfort, but you couldn’t help but notice how hilarious he looked, his body already covered in red splotches when he barely spent a few seconds in there.

“You really okay in there?” Luffy asked. “That’s gotta hurt, right?”

You smiled lazily and slumped into the water, the heat surprisingly soothing. “I feel totally fine,” you said, and sank deeper into the steamy warmth. It was just the way you liked it. “I actually wish it could be even hotter!”

Luffy’s eyes widened in disbelief, which didn't happen often, as you would know. “What?! Even hotter? It's already like lava!"

You nodded, grinning wide. “So hot the meat falls off my bones!” you joked.

Luffy didn't seem to like that image as he scrunched his face. "You're really crazy," he said, then his stomach growled. "Now I want something cold to drink! I'll ask Sanji to make us smoothies!"

[PORTGAS D. ACE]

The steam from the shower fogged the mirror, thick and warm. The sound of water hitting the tiles was oddly soothing, too, but your impatience was starting to take over.

"Come on! It'll be fun! And you smell anyway!" you said once again. You had practically begged Ace to join you the whole time, and he was still adamant about not getting in!

"No, I don't!" He countered and crossed his arms. He was being more stubborn than usual for some reason. At this point, you weren't even sure if he was actually this lazy or if his aversion to water had something to do with him being a Devil Fruit user or something.

Well, it didn't really matter. You were determined to get him in here, no matter the reason, and you always got what you wanted.

"Oh, yeah?" You raised a brow. "When was the last time you showered?"

Ace thought for a moment, then looked away, and said, "....Last Tuesday?"

This was truly unbelievable.

"Today is Monday, you skunk!"

"Ugh, okay!" he groaned, finally relenting and following you into the bathroom. Really, someone would think you were going to drown him in there with how he was acting. And if he kept doing this, maybe you would.

Once in, the two of you undressed and stepped into the shower. The water poured down from the overhead, hot as hell, just the way you liked it. And Ace seemed to appreciate it, too, despite his previous endeavour.

After a few minutes, you turned toward him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Ace blinked in surprise, but returned the embrace just the same.

"You’re so needy today," he said, teasing you, but still seemingly curious as well. "Is there anything in particular as to why?"

You grinned up at him. Yes, there absolutely was a reason. "Get hot."

His eyebrows shot up. He probably thought you meant something else. Heh. "What?"

"Come on, get hot!" You said again. "The water is not hot enough! So use your Devil Fruit and get hot!"

"It's already like a sauna in here!" he protested while laughing, and looked at your already red skin. "Do you want to get roasted or something?"

You nodded eagerly. That sounded so good, actually! And was the exact reason you had dragged his ass here. That, and because he was actually about to stink up the ship. "Make me burn, Ace!"

Ace stared at you as though you had actually lost your mind completely, and for a moment, you thought he might actually leave you hanging. But then, he sighed dramatically, as if resigned to his fate, and pulled you closer. "Well, the lady gets what she wants, I guess. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though!"

[SABO]

It was three in the morning, and the sun wasn't even peeking over the horizon yet. The sky was as dark as it would get, and everyone else on the island was still sleeping as far as you were concerned. But you and Sabo had to get ready. The plan was to be on the road before five, and time wasn’t waiting for either of you.

Sabo was already up, his face half-shaven, his usually messy hair even more disheveled than usual. His eyes were heavy, and he looked just as sleepy as you, but thankfully, the determination to get everything packed and organized was enough to keep him moving.

You, however, were already deep in your own morning struggle with exhaustion still tugging at your bones. There was no way you could face the road ahead without a shower first. So, uou hurried into the small bathroom, hopeful to make the most of the little time you had, and cranked up the little amount of hot water the apartment still had.

The sound of the spray was enough to calm you, but the warmth? It was something else entirely. The steam filled the small space, and you were practically melting into the heat. Your eyes closed as you let the water wash you, and you stood there under the scorching stream like you were trying to see if you could boil yourself alive.

A few minutes later, you heard Sabo coming in.

“…Are you trying to burn yourself?” He asked you from the door, both sounding amused and equally concerned. “That can’t be good for you.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Sabo,” you grinned at him. “It’s not a real shower if it doesn’t feel like the inside of a volcano!”

[DONQUIXOTE DOFLAMINGO]

Doflamingo was hunched over a large, weathered map, the edges curling as he carefully traced the routes of various islands to figure out which way would be faster to reach Whiteland for their next raid before returning to the hideout. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, and waves crashing against the ship was the only sound in the room for a moment.

You stood at the doorway, watching him. He was so focused on his work that he didn't even notice you at first, but the room felt too still, too quiet, too tempting. You had to mess with it.

"Hey, Doffy," you said, and leaned over the edge of the massive table, your face inching closer to his.

"Hm?" He said. You couldn't tell if he was looking at you or not because of his pink-tinted glasses. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to ask you something," you leaned on him. "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"Fufufufu… What kind of question is that?" he chuckled at you, clearly amused by your ridiculous inquiry.

"Come on. Just answer me, Doffy!"

He let out a lazy sigh, then tapped his finger on his chin as if considering it for a moment. "Probably not," he said, then, bluntly. "How am I supposed to love a worm anyway? I would probably step on you without even noticing you wiggling on the ground."

You gasped, half-amused, and half-very-much-offended. "So, you would just abandon me?"

Doflamingo turned his head slightly toward you and raised a brow. "Why? Are you planning on turning into one sometime soon?" he asked.

“Well, maybe a devil fruit user who can turn people into bugs will attack us and turn me into a worm!” you declared, arms crossed as if you were presenting an irrefutable case.

That got another laugh out of the man. "You're really unbelievable..." he said, shaking his head. "But okay, I'll play along. If you become a worm, I'll put you in a jar and make sure you are still alive until we can reverse it."

“And if you can’t?”

The smirk on his lips got wider as he leaned back in his chair and pulled you on his lap. "Then I'll give you to Buffalo to use you as fish bait." He said it as if it were the most obvious and natural thing in the world. “Might as well get one last use for you.”

“What?!” You gaped at him. Really? Fish bait? What the hell?

He shrugged. "You heard me."

You balled your fist and punched him square in the chest, though it didn’t even make him flinch. He most likely barely felt it, really. "You’re the absolute worst, you know that!"

[DONQUIXOTE ROSINANTE]

Both of you were lazily sprawled across the bed, with sheets tangled around your legs, still half-asleep. You turned onto your side, scooted closer, and flopped your head right onto Rosinante’s chest. If you stood still, you could hear his heartbeat, too.

“Hey, Rosi,” you said, then, voice still ragged with sleep. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

He frowned almost immediately; confused, groggy, and clearly not fully there just yet. It was clear he was still far too sleepy to deal with you, but he should have known better than to go to sleep that late, almost one a.m. in the morning.

“…What?” he mumbled. “A worm?”

You hummed in confirmation, smiling against him and tugging at one of the buttons on his pyjamas.

He blinked a few times and stared up at the ceiling. “Well…” he said, then, rubbing his eyes. “Would you be a cute worm?”

"The cutest!"

“Then yes,” he said, a little smile tugging at his lips. “I would. I’d get you a small pink bow and a big enclosure. With lots of leaves. And flowers. The nice ones.”

"What else?"

“....And, you can’t talk if you’re a worm, right? So I’d mostly talk to you instead. I could read the news for you. Or open the radio when I’m away.” He said, actually putting some thought into it. “Maybe even read books out loud. I don’t think worms get bored easily, but still.”

You smiled. “And you’d make sure no one stepped on me?"

“Of course,” he said immediately. “I’d be very careful, too.”

“And you’d have to carry me around, too. I can’t just stay inside a box all day, you know?"

"Okay, sure," he promised, chuckling. Then, after a beat, he added, “Should I… learn more about worms, then?” He asked. Was he trying to tease you back? Well, it sure wasn't going to work as he had planned. “Do you plan on turning into one soon? If so, I should probably get prepared.”

You laughed quietly and shook your head, then leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen anytime soon.” You ruffled his hair playfully.

That finally snapped him fully awake.

“…What do you mean?” he said, confused and even a bit spooked, “…not anytime soon?”

You booped his nose, laughing. He looked so cute when he was agitated. "I said what I said, Rosi."

“So it will happen at some point? Because if it does, I need to know. Are you cursed or something? What kind of worm are we talking about? Earthworm? Caterpillar? Do those count? No, those turn into butterflies, and-!"

[TRAFALGAR D. LAW]

It was close to midnight when you finally gave up trying to ignore the faint flickering light coming from Law’s office. The guy was pulling an all-nighter. Again. You huffed, frustrated, knowing full well what that meant: another exhausting night, followed by him being in an awful mood the next day because of the lack of sleep. And, of course, there was no way you’d let Bepo or anyone else handle him when he was like that. Nope, that responsibility fell squarely on your shoulders, as it always did.

With a sigh, you decided to put an end to this madness before it could even begin, and maybe annoy him in the process. No more sitting around waiting for him to realize he needed rest. Instead, you marched over to the door, threw it open with a dramatic and pretty loud slam, and planted yourself squarely on top of his anatomy book.

You smirked as you looked up at him, feeling oddly proud of your little interruption.

Law barely looked up from his papers, but still acknowledged you. "...What are you doing?" he asked, frowning. He wasn't able to be mad at you, however, even though he couldn't say if it was because he loved you so much or the lack of sleep was finally impairing his judgment.

You leaned back and gave him an exaggerated, innocent shrug. "I wanted to ask you something," you said. "It's very important, Law."

He sighed and tried to pull the book from under you to no avail. Really, what was that oh so important thing he was trying to learn that he couldn't even rest properly? "What is it?"

You leaned in closer, staring into his eyes with all the seriousness you could muster. "Tell me, would you still love me if I was a worm?"

It took a couple of seconds for him to register what you had just said. Then he asked, “…Why would you be a worm? Why not a spider, or a praying mantis, or a centipede?"

"Because," you said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "among the bugs, worms are definitely the cutest."

Law stared at you as if you were stupid, then he tried to figure out where this conversation was going. Then, finally, he gave up. His brain didn't have enough fuel to process what was happening.

"This is idiotic..." He muttered under his breath, but you could tell his attention was still on you, more intrigued than annoyed. Yup, he was truly sleep-deprived. "Hypothetically, if you somehow did turn into a worm, it wouldn't be you anymore. They have short memories, forgetting things after just two to three hours. That means anything that makes you... you, your memories, your likes, your dislikes, your hobbies... they’d be gone. You wouldn’t even be able to communicate with me."

"But my spirit would be in it!"

"We don’t even know if 'spirits' are real or not," he said, matter-of-fact.

"Well, let’s say they do exist in this instance, then!"

Law shook his head and actually gave a little smile! He tried to hide it with his hand, but you had already seen it. "In that case, well, I suppose I could at least make sure you're safe and cared for." He said. "Until you inevitably die, anyway. Worms only live, what, two to seven years?"

You sighed and threw yourself onto his lap before kissing him, "It would be so boring to be your pet," you mumbled then. "But at least that’s better than being left to die, right? Now get your ass to bed and sleep with me, or else I'll keep asking stupid questions until the sun rises."

[VALENTINO]

The TV flickered with some loud, overproduced game show neither of you was really paying attention to. Valentino was sprawled across the couch like he owned it with one arm draped behind you, eyes half-lidded beneath his sunglasses.

"Hey, Val," you said.

"Hm?" he acknowledged you, but still kept looking at the TV.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

That got his attention. Valentino then turned, scowling as if you’d personally insulted his entire bloodline. "What the fuck? What kind of fuckass question is that?"

"Just answer it!"

"How am I supposed to love a worm?" He said, "I can't even fuck it."

"Wow, really romantic, you asshole," you punched his arm, scowling. Of course, this would be his answer. "I'm about to fall in love again. Don't you think of anything but your dick?"

"Oh, shut it," Valentino laughed, unbothered, clearly entertained by your irritation, and pulled you closer. "Now, come here. I've got a better use for that smart mouth of yours."

[VOX]

Vox was in his office, handling some paperwork, when you decided to bother him. Or else he wouldn’t give you any attention, after all, that damn workaholic.

Holographic screens hovered around his desk, scrolling contracts, approval ratings, and analytics at a speed no normal person could follow. At least, you knew you couldn't. His fingers tapped sharply against the glass surface of his desk, claws clicking in irritation every time something didn’t align exactly the way he wanted.

You cleared your throat and said, “Hey, Vox,” and sat on his desk.

“What is it?” the other huffed, and you watched as his frown got even deeper. And you hadn’t even irritated him yet!

You swung your legs lazily, smiling to yourself. “So, I’ve got a question,” you said, and took the pen out of his hand, causing a sharp, offended “Hey!” to come out from him. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“...Really?” The man gave you a deadpan look. “This was the thing you wanted to ask me?”

You nodded enthusiastically, hands folded behind your back. “Yes, darling. Now answer the question!”

He stared at you for a long moment, clearly already defeated by your nonsense. Well, he knew you wouldn't be leaving him alone to do his job until you were satisfied, after all!

“Sure.” He said then and leaned back in his chair. “I would love you even if you were an ugly, squirmy little bug. I would get you a gold enclosure, live feed, and even a wheel to run around. Happy?”

“How the fuck is a worm supposed to run in a wheel?”

"....Really? That is the part that bothers you?"

[VELVETTE]

Velvette was perched at her desk, editing videos for her next Voxtagram post, and going through hundreds of different filters to choose the 'perfect' one. You plopped down beside her and, with a mischievous grin, asked, "Hey, Velvette. Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

She groaned, already exasperated, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Really? You are going to ask me that? Cringe."

"Just answer the damn question!"

Velvette snorted and kept typing. "Well, clearly, no," she said. "Duh. How the fuck am I supposed to love a worm? They’re slimy, and wiggly, and...ugh." She made a face of pure disgust. "I’d probably just crush you under my feet."

"God, you’re horrible!" you exclaimed, looking betrayed, and lightly shoved her away.

The other laughed. "What? Was I supposed to lie?"

JAKE SULLY

You and Jake were in the middle of an argument after the latest mission went wrong.

“Jake, you need to calm down.” You said. “It’s not that bad—“

“Not that bad?” he hissed, ears pinned flat against his head. “We’ve got seven injured men! If it wasn’t for—if you had just—you never listen! I gave you direct orders, but you still went ahead and did whatever you wanted!”

The others around you scattered away and left you alone, yet you still felt your face burn hot for getting scolded in front of your people.

“This is not a squad!” you snapped back, your tail lashing hard just as his. “I’m not a soldier, and you are not my superior, JakeSully!”

“Yeah, that’s true!” The man shot back. “A subordinate would have listened to my orders and wouldn’t cause a—”

He stopped.

“…A what?” You said, and got a step closer to him, glaring.

Jake clenched his jaw so tightly you could see the muscles twitch beneath blue skin. For a moment, anger burned hot in those golden eyes, but something else flickered underneath it, too. Fear. Regret, too, maybe.

“Let’s just stop here, okay?” he muttered, then, and looked away from you. “Before either of us says something we don’t mean.” He took a step back and hurried to leave your side. “…I’ll see you later.”

“Jake—”

But he was already gone.

You watched him stalk away from the camp, stiff, twitching. Outside the High Camp, Jake paced back and forth like an agitated animal and ran a hand over his hair every few seconds while completely ignoring the eyes on him.

You scoffed quietly and turned away as well.

Jake could be so patronizing sometimes.

You understood why he was upset. The mission had gone wrong. The humans had arrived earlier than you all expected, the Thanators had been spooked because of it, and in the chaos, you had split off to draw the gunship fire away from the others.

It had worked, of course, but barely.

Seven of your people were hurt.

One was dead.

And Jake had seen you disappear into smoke and gunfire, screaming after you, scared.

Still, that did not give him the right to talk to you like you were nothing but a reckless child. You were a warrior, too. You could protect yourself. Eywa knew you had done it long before Jake Sully had ever arrived on Pandora, after all.

With your mood souring further the more you thought about it, you threw yourself into work instead.

You helped grind herbs for the healers. Hauled water from the stream. Repaired torn riding harnesses with quick, irritated pulls of your hands.

Anything to stop replaying the argument in your head, really.

By noon, the camp had settled into a quieter tempo. Children laughed somewhere in the distance, the injured were attended to, and the smell of roasting teylu drifted through the air.

You were crouched beside a basket of dried fruit when you heard hurried footsteps approaching you.

“...Look, I know I was being an ass.”

You looked up. Jake stood in front of you, breathing hard like he had run across half the forest to find you. His hair was slightly disheveled, and guilt sat plainly across his face.

Before you could answer, however, he reached down and took both your hands in his, kissing your knuckles. “It’s just that—I was worried,” he said quickly. "I had one second to make a call, and—”

“Jake—”

“If I had lost you—I don’t even want to—” He stuttered. “I would have never forgiven—”

“Jake.”

You pressed your palm over his mouth to stop the flood of words. He was such an idiot sometimes, wasn't he? No, he was most of the time.

“I know, okay?” you said. “I know. So, just,,, shut up and kiss me, okay?"

Jake did not need to be told twice, and leaned in.

The kiss was messy at first, desperate and apologetic, too, full of all the things neither of you had managed to say during the argument. You guessed both of you were at fault for this, and both of you were far too hotheaded that you couldn't just calm down and talk. His hands tightened at your sides like he needed the reassurance that you weren't going to leave.

“You scare the hell outta me sometimes."

TONOWARI

The village had not known peace since the sunrise.

No, more like since the Sullies appeared.

Messengers moved constantly between the clans near the islands, carrying reports of Sky People ships spotted too close to the reefs. Hunters argued over patrol routes. Mothers pulled their children to make sure they wouldn't go around swimming at places they weren't supposed to. Even the ilu seemed restless beneath the darkening waves.

And at the center of all, Tonowari was trying to give reassurance to his people, even though he himself was just as worried about the future as the rest.

You had watched him all day as he settled disputes between anxious clan members, organized extra patrols along the coast to make sure the enemy wouldn't come too close without any of them noticing, and sent warnings to nearby Tulkun to avoid those ships made of metal.

It looked like every problem in the village seemed to find its way to him eventually.

And, during all of this, every time you tried to approach him, someone else needed his attention first. By the time night fell, your irritation had settled into something clearly visible to the eye, despite knowing better.

The moon hung low over the ocean when you finally found him by himself. It was unusual for him not to say anything to you. Especially so, when you knew that he knew you had been waiting for a moment to talk to him.

Tonowari sat alone near the edge of the water as he repaired the broken shaft of a fishing spear under the faint moonlight. His large hands worked restlessly, carefully wrapping cord around the wood while waves rolled softly against the shore nearby.

The village behind him had finally quieted down a bit. Everyone was likely too tired to wander around at night at this point.

Only the distant sounds of the sea remained now, the crash of waves, the chirping of night insects, and the occasional splash of playful fish farther out in the water.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Tonowari continued working, though you knew immediately he was aware of your presence. His ears flicked once in your direction, you had not missed that. He was probably hoping that you would be the first one to break the silence, but alas.

“You are angry with me,” he said at last, once it was clear it wouldn't be you who made the first move.

“You ignored me all day.”

“The clan needed me,” he replied simply.

Which was true. This was the frustrating part. You knew the weight he carried better than anyone, as his mate. The Metkayina looked to him for safety, for guidance. Especially now, with the threat of war creeping closer to their home more than ever before.

But lately, it felt like every burden was pushing him farther and farther away from you.

This had never happened before, and this, the unknown of the situation, scared you.

“You seem fine with speaking to everyone else,” you said quietly. You couldn't help but sound a bit bitter about it, too.

That finally made him stop.

Tonowari set the spear aside and turned toward you. “I did not mean to make you feel unseen,” he said.

Your irritation with him faltered, then. How could it not, when he looked so sincere?

Tonowari had never been good at hiding his emotions from you. His eyes were too honest for it, large and open like the sea itself. Even now, while he was still tired and burdened, you could see the regret for his unintentional ignorance plainly across his face.

“You must understand,” he said, “when the clan is threatened, my whole focus is on them and I can't help—”

You rolled your eyes before he could even finish and stepped forward, grabbing the front of his chest to pull him closer.

“Tonowari…” you sighed. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

The man froze, and his eyes flickered briefly to your mouth before lifting back to meet your gaze again, and suddenly, he looked almost uncertain. He still did as he was told, however, and leaned in to meet you halfway.

The kiss was slow at first, but the moment your lips fully touched, all the tension he had carried seemed to unravel at once, and his forehead rested against yours.

“We are partners,” you said, then. “We are supposed to support one another. How can I, if you keep me out?”

Tonowari met your gaze once more, then, and nodded. “Yes,” he said. “You are right. I am sorry. I was being foolish, as always.”

That got you to chuckle, finally, “You got that right, at least.”

TSU’TEY

You had been watching Tsu'tey lose himself for months now.

Not publicly, of course. Tsu’tey would rather throw himself from the Hallelujah Mountains than let the clan witness him breaking apart. To everyone else, he was still the proud warrior of the Omatikaya. Strong, disciplined, and calm.

But you knew better than that. You saw it in the tension that never left his shoulders anymore. Sleep abandoned him night after night. In the bitterness that sharpened his voice whenever JakeSully’s name was spoken aloud, and grief that he so adamantly refused to even talk about, clouded his judgment.

That night, the clan celebrated after a successful hunt. Music echoed through the Hometree, drums beating in a steady rhythm while children laughed and dancers moved around the great fires as Ninat sang with her beautiful voice.

But Tsu’tey was nowhere near the celebration.

Of course, he wasn't.

At least, you had a pretty good idea where he would be.

After dinner, you slipped away quietly while the others were distracted, and the forest swallowed the sounds of the celebration the farther you walked, until eventually only the hum of the forest remained.

You found him sitting beside the Tree of Voices. He was sitting with his legs crossed, sharpening a knife that honestly did not need any more sharpening at this point.

“You should be with the others,” he said without looking up at you.

He always noticed you immediately, even when you tried to sneak up on him. Honestly, it was as if he had two extra ears that helped him hear.

Ignoring the comment, you sat beside him. Tsu’tey kept his eyes lowered to the knife in his hands, pretending as if your presence changed nothing. But you knew him too well by now to fall for that.

“You are angry again."

"I have my reasons."

There it was. That simmering bitterness beneath his skin, always threatening to boil over.

You sighed. “Honestly, Tsu’tey, JakeSully is not even that—”

“Do not speak to me of him," he snarled at you. He had not raised his voice, but it still stung all the same.

Your ears flicked back slightly. “You push everyone away,” you said, then. “If you keep this up, you will have no one, Tsu’tey.”

The man scoffed bitterly.

“You do not know what you are talking about,” he said next in return. “You have never lost anyone. You do not know what misfortune the Sky People bring.”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to just ask, “...Is this about Sylwanin?”

“It is not that!”

Tsu’tey stood abruptly and paced away from one tree to the other. His tail lashed behind him, agitated, while his hands clenched at his sides.

“I feel this impending doom,” he said. His voice was tight with frustration, “and no one is listening. It is as if Eywa is changing the path beneath my feet, and I am not even allowed to question why without everyone judging me.”

You stayed silent. Tsu’tey looked genuinely upset with himself for even saying the words aloud, as though questioning Eywa’s path was some terrible blasphemy.

At least it will help him to calm down a bit, you thought.

“Everything has been changing because of him!” he continued. “The clan changed—Neytiri also did—everything, as if everyone already forgot what happened at GraceAugustine’s school, and—”

He cut himself off with a frustrated hiss and turned his face away from you. “…You should leave,” he muttered, then. “I will find you once I clear my head, okay?”

You did get up, but did not walk away. Instead, you reached out to him, and, with a gentle hand on his back, made him face you.

"Tsu'tey..." you said. "Shut up and kiss me."

The man's ears pinned back slightly in surprise, and for half a second, he almost looked offended, as if he could not believe you would actually interrupt his spiraling thoughts with something like this.

The moment your lips touched his, however, he melted and loosened against you like he always did.

“This big head of yours is always so full,” you said with a sigh of your own. “…I wish it did not cause you this much grief.”

COLONEL QUARITCH

It was raining as if it were the end of the world. The wind was so strong it was rattling the abandoned RDA outpost you and Quaritch had taken shelter in, and every few minutes, a thunder in the distance lit the room before it was dark again.

The mission had gone completely to Hell, to say the leasr.

Sully’s patrol had spotted you and Quaritch far earlier than either of you had anticipated, and what should have been a clean reconnaissance run turned into a desperate retreat through the forest with at least a dozen Na'vi behind you.

Somehow, both of you did manage to throw them off your tails, but Quaritch had still taken an arrow through the shoulder during all of this.

And now he was sitting shirtless on top of a rusted supply crate while you tried to patch him up with an old medkit you had found in this dumb.

The only problem was that he would not shut the fuck up.

“You pull a stunt like that again,” he growled while you wrapped fresh bandages around his shoulder, “I’m gonna personally drag your ass back to base myself. You can forget about going into any other mission after that, too.”

You rolled your eyes and deliberately tugged the bandage tighter than necessary. And, of course, this made Quaritch hiss in pain.

Good.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you shot back. “That arrow would’ve pierced your empty head if it wasn’t for me, you know?”

“As if,” he spat back immediately. “I had everything under control before you decided to be reckless.”

“You were about to get shot.”

“And you almost did instead!” he barked back. “I am the top dog here, princess. I give the orders, you all follow them, that’s it. How the hell am I supposed to keep you alive if you don’t trust me to make the right decision?”

You snorted and stood to grab some supplies from a nearby crate.

“I don’t need you to be my daddy, Quaritch,” you said. “I know how to keep myself in one piece, thank you very much.”

“That confidence is exactly what’s gonna get you killed one day.”

You got a bottle of stale water and a few painkillers from the medkit before tossing them into his lap.

“And the constant talking is what’s gonna get you killed, big guy.”

Quaritch grumbled something under his breath but took the pills anyway. He swallowed them dry before draining the entire bottle of water in one long gulp. It would still take some time until they helped with the pain, however.

For exactly three seconds, there was silence. Then he started at it again.

“You disobeyed a direct order,” he repeated for the dozenth time, and wiped the sweat and rainwater from his jaw. “I am your Colonel. Does the chain of command mean nothing to you?”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. You honestly could not help it at this point. “Are you physically incapable of shutting up?”

“You think this is funny?”

“No, I just think you’re impossible to please.”

The room fell quiet after that, and Quaritch's expression changed into something you couldn't tell what it meant. Then, before you knew it, the man suddenly stood and threw the empty bottle against the wall, making the rest of the water splash all around the ground with a little thud.

“You don’t run into live fire for me,” he barked at you. “Never. Got it?”

“And what,” you shot back immediately. If Quaritch thought swinging his big dick would make you back down, he was stupider than you had given him credit for. “you’re allowed to throw yourself in front of bullets for me, but I’m supposed to sit there and watch?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I know what I’m doing.”

You barked out a disbelieving laugh and gestured aggressively toward his shoulder. “Right. Says the guy bleeding through two layers of bandages.”

Quaritch looked down, then. And, sure enough, blood had already started seeping through the fresh wrapping again. You could say whatever you want about the Na'vi, but they sure as hell would have made good snipers, that's for sure.

“You know what I mea—”

This was it. You cut him off by grabbing the front of his vest and yanking him toward you.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Quaritch. Got it?”

That finally got him to shut up for a moment.

The man blinked down at you, clearly caught off guard for perhaps the first time in arguably both of your short lives. How long had it been since you woke up in this new body? Six months? Seven? You had no idea anymore.

“…Christ,” he muttered, then, but his hand slid around your waist nonetheless before he leaned down to kiss you as you ordered.

You stumbled backward slightly as he pulled you closer. He really did kiss like he was still furious, didn't he? Always so dramatic, always so worried, and definitely needy. You couldn't help but chuckle against his lips.

Once he was satisfied and breathing harder than before, he rested his forehead briefly against yours and closed his eyes. "You drive me absolutely insane, you know that?”

“Funny. I was about to say the same thing.”

NORM SPELLMAN

The biolab was quiet, and some of the equipment hummed softly in the background while pale, blue monitor lights flickered. Samples, tablets, lots and lots of different papers, and just as many abandoned coffee mugs were scattered everywhere, and the rain tapped against the glass ceiling, too.

Yeah, it was definitely way too late for either of you to be still awake.

Norm was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside an open supply crate, sorting carefully through rows of sample containers while muttering half-coherent thoughts to himself under his breath.

You were technically supposed to be helping him, but instead, you were sprawled across one of the cots nearby, just watching.

“You know,” you said lazily, “normal people sleep at least once a day.”

Norm snorted. “Yeah, well, normal people also don’t discover potentially symbiotic fungal networks growing through the roots of— hold on, where’d my scanner go?”

“It’s literally in your hand, dude.”

He looked down, “…Oh.”

You burst out laughing, and a faint blush immediately crept across Nom's face, though he tried very hard to pretend it was not at all there.

“You’re impossible sometimes, Norm.”

“It’s fine,” the man said. “This is very important, you know?”

“Yeah, I do know,” you sighed dramatically. “Because you already explained it to me, like, six times or something.”

“And yet I still feel like you’re not appreciating the significance.”

“That’s because every explanation somehow turns into a lecture.”

“It is not a lecture,” Norm argued back. “It’s context. There is a difference."

“You used the phrase ‘cross-species biochemical reciprocity’ three separate times.”

“Because that’s what it is!”

You groaned one more time and slid off the cot onto the floor, staring at the ceiling in defeat.

Usually, you liked listening to him ramble. Really, you did. But sometimes Norm’s nerdiness became genuinely unstoppable once he got excited enough, and it became impossible to get him to bed.

This happened more of then these days, and this meant he was getting even less sleep than he usually did.

“You can go to bed if I’m boring you so much,” he said. He tried not to sound bothered, but you knew better than to fall for that.

You turned at him immediately. "You're not boring me."

Norm gave you a look in return. “You literally started staring at the ceiling halfway through my explanation.”

“I was multitasking, thank you very much.”

“Sure. Because that is something people do.” He then rubbed a tired hand over his face. He was clearly exhausted but somehow still determined to finish his little experiment.

“I just—okay, look,” he started again, shifting closer to his tablet. “If this data’s right, it could explain why certain Pandoran plant systems react to neural energy the way they do, which means Grace’s old theories might’ve been—”

“Oh my God,” you mumbled into your hands, this could not be starting again, then, you glanced at the clock on the wall.

It was already four in the goddamn morning.

Absolutely not.

With a huff, you pushed yourself upright and crossed the room before Norm could launch into another ten-minute explanation about neural pathways or fungal symbiosis or whatever scientific tangent he was currently spiraling into.

He barely had time to look up before you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward you.

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot,” you said firmly. “Or would you rather continue with your little science experiment instead?”

As you had known it would, Norm's eyes widened, the man frozen in place, as you settled yourself onto his lap, effectively trapping him between you and the supply crate behind him.

He then stuttered, "W-what was I even doing? I've got no idea."

[MONKEY D. LUFFY]

You had been walking alongside Luffy, enjoying the day as you sailed toward the next island, when a thought abruptly popped into your head.

"Hey, Luffy!" you said, and jumped on him from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck in a surprise attack.

"Hm?" Luffy responded. He tilted his head back, and his straw hat fell off his head before landing on the deck with a soft thud. "What is it?"

You pulled back slightly, resting your chin on his shoulder, and asked, "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"A worm?" he repeated, his face scrunching up in a cute little frown as he thought about it for a moment. Then, he grinned as if the answer was the most obvious thing. "Of course! I love bugs! They're awesome!"

"Even if I couldn't talk anymore?" you asked. "I would look like any other ordinary worm, you know? There wouldn't be anything special about me anymore."

Luffy shrugged, "Doesn't matter. I would know it's you anyway."

[PORTGAS D. ACE]

You saw that Ace had leaned against the railing, staring out at the horizon, lost in thought, as the ship swayed gently beneath your feet. It was a peaceful moment, one he often enjoyed when the chaos of the crew’s antics and the endless journey seemed to slow down, even if just for a second.

But peace didn’t last long when you were around.

You strolled over and approached him from behind. Ace didn’t notice you at first, but the moment you spoke, his head turned, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Hey, Ace," you said, leaning casually on the railing beside him and looking up to meet his gaze. "What are you doing?"

"Ah, nothing," he said. "What about you?"

You smiled at him before leaning in and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, resting your head against his chest. "I wanted to ask you something, actually."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Ace blinked, then he both smiled and frowned at the same time, as if he could not decide what kind of reaction he wanted to give just yet.

“A worm?” he repeated. “What kinda question is that?”

You shrugged, still smiling. Honestly, he should have expected you would ask something like this since he knew how weird you were. And this question was indeed a classic, "I just want to know if you would still love me if I was a squirmy, wiggly little worm, that's all."

Ace then finally let out a laugh and shook his head. "Gosh, really..." he muttered, then he leaned down to kiss your forehead. His lips felt hot against your skin thanks to his Devil Fruit. "You think I wouldn’t?"

Oh, he looked so charming with that smile and eyes that glinted with happiness.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he repeated, and kissed you again. "I would carry you in my shirt’s pocket so we would always be together, too!"

You burst out laughing. "Nice answer!""

[SABO]

The room was dim except for the soft glow of the desk lamp and the constant blink of the radio’s indicator light. Static was the only noise around you, broken only by the occasional crackle that might turn into an incoming call you were waiting for from Dragon.

Sabo was stretched out in the hammock strung across the corner of the room, one arm dangling loose, his hat tipped low over his face to block even the little light you had. He looked dangerously close to falling asleep despite the fact that he technically wasn’t supposed to.

You, on the other hand, were wide awake. It was only expected after your fifth cup of coffee, after all.

You sat at the desk beside the radio, elbows resting near the receiver, nursing another coffee between your hands. It had already gone lukewarm, but you drank it anyway. You had an inkling feeling that after this many cups, your body didn't even know what to do with all this caffeine anymore, and you had a slight ache in your stomach, too. But long shifts always felt longer when nothing happened, and when nothing happened, bothering Sabo was practically a civic duty.

You glanced over at him, lips already twitching.

Yeah. This night needed a bit of disturbance, that was all. Why did he get to sleep when you didn't, anyway?

“Sabo,” you called sweetly.

“...Huh?” he huffed, shifting in the hammock. He dragged the brim of his hat up just enough to peer at you with one tired eye. His hair was a mess, and his voice was rough with half-sleep. You kinda liked the look. “What…? What’s going on?” He yawned. “How late is it?”

You lifted your cup, took a slow and very loud sip, and met his gaze with the most serious expression you could manage.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Then, there was a loonnnnng silence.

Sabo let out a groan and dropped his hat back over his face. “Really…” he muttered, sounding like a man questioning every decision that led him here. At least, there with you.

You waited, rocking slightly in your chair. You had all the time in the world, after all. Well, until Dragon finally managed to give you a call, that is.

He sighed. “Yes,” he said, then. “I would love you if you were a worm. I would love you if you were a snake. I would love you if you were a frog. I’d love you in any shape or form.”

He shifted, then, and tried to get comfortable again. “Now,” he said, “may I sleep?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes, you may,” you said generously. Then, you added. “Well… until I find something else to ask, that is.”