When That Episode Happens In Stampede I Hope That It's A Combination Of The Church And The Couch. I Hope

Starlight. Who do you see? Who do you smile for?

I hope it's me.

🕝🕘🕧

he was gkjgn to call himself daedalus are you fucjing kidding me THISBIS SO FUCKED THIS IS SO FUCKED

As soon as I see that jacket again in the first episode I WILL burst into tears like a big ol baby ;A;

I think something I never really stopped to think too much about in One Piece is the sounds.

I grew up surrounded by nature. I grew up listening to the sounds the woods by my house made, the fields of crops down the road, of the river and creeks at my grandparents, and storms rolling over miles of empty plains in the fall.

I could tell you everything you need to know about those things. I didn't fear the dark because I knew it well. I could run those trails in the dead of night and I could have walked the land around my home blindfolded. I knew every branch that scraped, every bird nest full of singing life, every hole waiting for an ankle, every thorn tree that dropped terrible gifts to the earth. I knew it all.

Now I'm learning the sounds of the city. And everything is so loud. You forgot how quiet the world is when it's just you, and our world is full of loud things. Trains, cars, planes, electricity humming, pipes creaking, etc.

I believe I've made mentions of it before in my posts but I'm just really interested in how the One Piece world sounds.

Do the waves make different sounds than our own? Do sea kings sound more like tigers or gorillas when they roar? Are storms still ear shattering when they call out with thunder? Does the wind howl in your ear, or does it sing?

What does it sound like when Marco flies with massive wings right next to you? Does it sound like a regular bird but magnificent? Or does it pop your ears like a plane? Does he make different noises because of his devil fruit? Are his vocal cords different than someone else's?

What about when Buggy separates? The human body makes a variety of sound when it's sperated in different ways, does he sound like thighs stuck together with sweat in the summer or an injury like the loss of a limb? Does it pop like part of a toy, or maybe a click like a lock and key? Does it make a sound like pulling meat apart?

Does Luffy squeak when he moves all the time? Does he sounds like new shoes on marble or the high pitched screech of bare skin on gym floors?

Did Ace make the wooshing sound of dry wood or maybe the soft pops of low embers? Was he more like a forest fire taking off or a candle flickering in the window?

Does Kidd sound like a a car crash? Like metal bending and reforming itself into something messy and new? Does he clang like dropped silverware or is it heavy like metal gates closing? Maybe he sounds like the hammer of a blacksmith on burning metal?

Does Chopper have a way of talking that's distinctive? Like an accent or a lisp? Surely there would be something that would remind people that vocal cords change with each species and suddenly being able to make the noises of the human language would be a learning curve?

Does Robin sound like skin sliding against skin? Like rubbing your arms when you're cold or the dry sound that comes sometimes when you shake someones hand? Maybe she sounds like the wind in a garden or pulling petals off a flower?

Does Crocodile sound like a sandstorm? Does the sand he controls sound like screaming, like howling? Or maybe it sounds like a mudslide, something powerful and earthly?

Does Doflomingo make the the twang of tight threads being pulled and snapped back into place? Maybe the snap of elastic bands or the zzzz of string being pulled of the roll too quick?

Just so many fun things to consider 💭

Might do one of these about some of the other senses too.

Blond people

The first time that England hated blond people was also the first time that he hated himself. He was running, trying to catch his brothers and he wondered "is this the meaning of family?" "helplessly trying to be loved?". He got his answer hours later when they try to drown him for the first time. That is when he saw it. His reflection on the river. He saw his green eyes, his pale skin and his blond hair. He saw everything that he wasn't and everything that he should be. And then he hated himself. And then he blamed himself. He blamed on himself that his brothers didn't love him, he blamed on himself that he could never have a family, he blamed on himself that his mother always looked at him pity. And then he hated his brothers. And then hated what it meant to live.

Wilbur doesn't know why he knows the steps. It feels like a dance you remember only in a hazy state. Walking beside a small kid, careful not to trip into her stride feels right. He feels like something overtakes him to speak in a gentler voice of reassurance. To sing her a song goodnight is instinct, not just as a musician but as something else. It feels so strange all of a sudden that he of all people is so careful with a child he's never met until that day. When he heard he was possibly a dad, he simply dismissed it like minor news. Akin to hearing you have a spider in your home or it's raining in 4 days, he'll get to it but it's nothing really.

But now he cares so much, he'd wreak havoc if anything happened to Tallulah. It feels like deja vu, like looking through a mirror to another world. A world where he has a special place surrounded by redwood trees and by the riverside. That other guy he's looking at, he's building everything up just for his own kid, with the same face of care and concerns as his own. He's singing some lullabies as him, matching the cadences and lyrics even if hushed and mumbled. He's teaching how to shoot a bow and arrow to his kid just like him, explaining the steps the same as him. He's leaving the kid soon just like the other, but at least he's trusting someone else to take care in his stead.

There's another kid, he realises. And that kid looks sad, in spite of the beautiful scenery. That kid is looking at walls, just like Tallulah. He's not living in much comfort or glamour, just like Tallulah. He's learning how to fend for himself with a bow and arrow, Tallulah will be like that soon. He's seen the dance, the rhythm of a deadbeat. And now its up to him to change the paces.

Will doesn't know why he pauses in faint recollection when a memory doesn't exist. It's merely a dream from a bygone night, but what's a memory but not a dream you've seen before. Yet when remembers walking through the forest and a flash of red fur snickering, he doesn't understand why a pang of burrowing feelings hits him.

And that feeling turns to drive, a desire to be at least the best dad he can be for now. For Tallulah and for that lonely kid he doesn't remember.

something of stress dreams

[the song is dancer by novo amor :D]

This just crossed my head and I am emotional

Sherlock Holmes just got to London, after the Great Hiatus. First place he goes is Pall Mall to visit his brother personally, get the last bits of money he needs and chill after the long travel.

Then he goes to Baker Street, but not to Mrs. Hudson. He walks disguised looking for one of his boys - one of the Irregulars.

He finds someone the Irregulars accepted after his "death" and talks to him, and the boy gets confused once so many names are mentioned. He takes them to the others.

Wiggins, now a teenager or a young adult, is the first one to recognize him even under the disguise and runs to him, crying. "It's mr. Holmes!" he screams, as all of the others do the same.

Now Holmes is literally in the middle of a giant ball of poor stinky boys - but it doesn't matter. What matters is that he came back.