Cross Guild Idea: Buggy decides to change up his style as one does when they are feeling bored and has the money to do so. Like:
Having more of western clown cowboy look or going more into a traditional pirate theme... I don't know if I'm doing at explaining.
Having more pastels or darker colors in his attires.
Crocodile and Mihawk aren't expecting changes in styles, especially such a fast change and it's only there or a day or week. Then it's back to his normal flashy outfits
Ooooh yes I love this!!!! Especially bc Buggy sometimes does just.... do that. Even in Canon. It's played as a Specialty Thing, but dude really did just have a brief stint for a while with completely different face paint and makeup for no discernable reason beyond He Just Went For It. I can absolutely see random style changes just.... being a Thing sometimes. Everyone is used to it. Buggy's just Like That Sometimes.
Nobody bothered to give Mihawk and Crocodile the memo though lmao
Gosh can you imagine their faces when Buggy comes in one day for a meeting, not rocking his pillow case onesie, not even the stripped top and cinched pants, but instead in like. Slim fit dark red pants, a pastel violet ruffled top, matching red vest and a cream tasseled ranch jacket embroidered brightly in whimsical patterns with match knee high boots
They both have to take a minute because wh... what is..... why????
Buggy doesn't even acknowledge it, just carrying on like normal.
Bonus points it lasts maybe a few days, then it's back to regularly scheduled buggy hours.
They shake it off as a sort if fever dream.
Then a month later, Buggy is decked like a spooky clown for Halloween or smth. Not even overtly SCARY CLOWN, but very much blacks and rich tones and very small but tastefully glaring pops of color. It's whiplash. Crocodile is rebooting. Mihawk is vibrating. Buggy is oblivious.
Ooh either spin the bottle or two truths and a lie for Cross Guild?
Oooooh I wanna Mix Those, thanks nonny ♡♡♡
Spin the Bottle + 2 Truths 1 Lie
Nobody was quit certain how the situation had come to this, but it was undeniable now. Mihawk nursed his glass of wine, empty bottles at his hip as he lounged not unlike a panther across the lounge, sleep pants hung low and shirt unorthodoxically cut to show more skin than it perhaps should. Golden eyes cut to his equally dressed down compatriots.
Crocodile was taking the full couch with a mildly annoyed tinge to his brow, hair still slicked back perfectly despite the loungewear he himself had donned for this exchange. The man proved his commitment to his tastes even in his pajamas, it seemed, with the rich deep emerald silk of his pants offset against the nearly skin tight black tank top. It would have shown far more skin than he'd ever exposed before had it not been for the unbuttoned mate to his pants left to take place of his coat, though his arms filled the sleeves here.
Across from him, kneeling on the rug was the very one who'd proposed this meet up in the first place. Cerulean locks were held fast in a neat french braid, the tail trailing well past his shoulders to brush his hips. Sans makeup, it turned out that the clown's lips were either stained from his lip tint or simply far more florid than most, only his nose more red, and both bowing out to the pigment of his eyes and full lashes. As if the rare sight of a bare face were not enough, the other man had opted for a set of pajamas seemingly intended for women more than men by the cut of the shorts and thin straps of his top. The bottoms were plaid in a mix of neons over a midnight base color, either black or a highly pigmented blue or purple, while the top seemed perhaps a size or two too large with one strap continuously slipping along his bicep. The shirt was, at the very least, more modest in cuts than Mihawk's own, though the bright orange toed the line between tasteful and garish against such pale, surprisingly scarred and freckled skin and his oceanic hair.
The two ghost caricatures over the slight swell of his breasts with the inappropriate pun curling below may have been over kill, the swordsman mused.
Crocodile moved, earning his attention back as the man flicked the sideways bottle on the table. It spun and spun, a clear noise that tickled his ears brightly. Sharp eyes traced the movements, as it slowed and crept to a stop - the opening moreso angle to Buggy this time.
The clown brightened. "Okay," he cheered, swaying in place minutely, finger moving to tap at his chin, green nail polish glinting in the low light. "Hmm.... oh! Okay okay, so," he grinned, eyes glinting like arctic waves at twilight. "I'm allergic to pineapples, I have oversensitive observation haki, and I like swordfighting!" He clasped his hands, propped his elbows and dropped his chin upon the lattice of his fingers with a mischievous grin.
Mihawk, despite the small knot of fond affection in his stomach, pursed his lips. The pineapple comment seemed self explanatory - they'd seen first hand the reaction he had the one time he did eat something containing pineapple. Dr Delilah had nearly torn her hair out when Buggy, dotted in hives and pouting, poked his head into her office for the medication. It was by no means a life threatening allergy, but it was certainly dangerous on its own.
That left the remaining two statements to be the lie.
Turning it over in his head, Mihawk sent a glance to Crocodile. He seemed to be in thought himself, gnawing absently at his cigar butt as he looked over the clown adjacent to both men.
Buggy, for his part, seemed to have an excellent poker face.
Mihawk initially thought it would be the sword fighting bit, knowing Buggy preferred ranged fighting - but at the same time, he knew intimately that the other was no slouch with any bladed weapon he could get his hands on. An unchoppable man with a penchant for weapons that cut seemed ironic and near infallible.
Crocodile spoke then, nodding to himself. "The Haki," he grunted shortly.
"Sword fighting," Mihawk followed up, still uncertain but willing to take the chance if only to gain the point over Crocodile.
Buggy grinned. "Hawky wins," he chirped, handing the dot marker over so the swordsman could add another mark to his tally.
The logia user tilted his head. "The hell is oversensitive observation, then? Isn't the whole deal supposed to be an extra sense? Extra awareness?"
"Mostly," Mihawk admitted, "It is akin to a sixth sense born from your other five. It has a psychological component as well. Some even argue it's spiritual."
Buggy nodded along absently, toying with the neck of the bottle. "Basically, yeah. Observation Haki is technically a heightened sensitivity to your other senses anyway, along with a special other little bit. But when you have a natural affinity for it, it can seem over sensitive," he paused, nail clinking against the glass. He sighed. "To have oversenstivie Observation haki means that your senses are always turned up higher than most. It can develop as a trauma response or it can be innate. It's not common to have it, honestly, and what little we DO know about that is.... kind of complicated? But think of it like.... being in a big crowded room, all the time. And you can see and hear and feel and predict so many things for every single person within your area."
"That is typical Observation, though unfiltered," Mihawk stated.
Buggy nodded. "Now imagine you can predict inanimate objects. You can hear the winds, the grass, the walls, the cobblestone. And now expand it. It's not the crowd. It's the town. The city. The island itself. You can hear and feel and sense every wave against the shore, the sea screaming, the cloud cover and winds and plants and people. Every grain of sand has a voice, every stone, every drop, every gust, ever piece of the world around you. And then the people, their feelings, you can damn near read their thoughts. It's everywhere, everything, constantly."
Silence reigned for a moment. Mihawk had paled, leaning back into his seat. He recalled Shanks admitting to information like that before in passing, grieving slurred words that he'd though were about a man dead. Instead, he realized in dawning concern, it was for a man livelier than most.
Crocodile snorted. "Sounds overwhelming and honestly kind of fake."
Buggy's eyes cut to him, studying for a moment. Mihawk shivered as those glacier blue eyes darkened, seemingly crackling as he tilted his head. Crocodile blinked as Buggy spoke. "Annoyance. Anger. You feel slighted and indignant, believing your first guess was right and we're playing you. That's something anyone who knows you can guess, Croco-chan, so here's something else." His eyes went marginally glazed. A lone curl drifted to kiss his cheek. "Daz is currently at the breeding tents. He's taken a liking to one of the blueberrywani that hatched with the latest batch. He's happy and content right now. Mohji is doing the last of the work in the stables. He was cleaning with Ritchie, Keeler and Misha. Baron should be helping too, but he's unwell, in the medical tent. Cabaji is currently with Alvida, they're happy and bright at the moment but also slower. Drinking, I think. They're in her tent-"
Buggy went on, describing key guildsmen or commanders in varying places, their actions, what was around them, their emotions. Some of them, he had no way to know of before hand. Two wide eyed gazes locked onto him.
When he began paling, a hand moving to tap-tap-tap in a familiar way, Mihawk reached out, slotting this fingers together to squeeze. Buggy jolted back. They all breathed together for a moment.
Then the clown shook his head. "Test however you need to," he said at last, glancing at Crocodile while Mihawk's awed gaze trailed over the tendrils of awareness he carefully folded back inwards. He took the bottle gently, cracking a smile. "Let's just play the game, okay?"
And maybe, the swordsman mused absently, maybe playing some silly little games to "get to know each other better" really was a brighter idea from their chairman. Skills, talents, powers and niches were paramount to portray to show a unified front. Any shortcomings could be twisted, supplemented or covered in turn by the rest. This game likely would be full of much to learn for all parties involved.
Including, he sighed as the bottle landed on him, he himself as well.
The Ghost!Roger AU is honestly the best thing I ever read on this site ! It's absolutely perfect 😭
Give me more if it pleeeeease 🥺
I'm really glad people enjoy it!!!!!
I already have a HELLA fixation on the paranormal, and so when I can apply it self indulgently to OTHER fixations, I Am Thriving.
Truly this is my magnus opus.
On that note however, I'm gonna drop some Lore Ideas.
I've said before that Buggy's already aware that Roger is still hanging around. He's not there 24/7, but he does hang out pretty often. Ghosts are Drawn to the things they left Unfinished in this aspect, either by choice or necessity - they hang around on this plane instead of crossing over. Roger made his choices and hated it. He chose the lesser evil, in his mind, because NONE of the options were good.
Then, on that scaffold, about to die, he feels and sees his oldest kids and is frankly more than a little livid.
For one, they're unaccompanied. This is an execution, Loguetown is crawling with Marines - high ranking ones at that - and here stand two barely-teens.
Speaking of them, though, the second thing is how his boys' energies and haki feel. Now Roger has been in a cell for a hot minute - not horribly long, and it's been two agonizing years since he saw his boys, but he knows damn well one should not feel like a ship splintering against the waves while the other has the same warning flags as a landmine in some underbrush. It could be stress, and Roger hates himself for knowing he is a primary contributor to a situation which makes his kids hurt, but there's more to it.
Especially given lucky number three - they're thin. Like. Painfully thin. Buggy had always been rather scrawny, and Shanks had only just begun filling out before Roger disbanded the crew. Right now, his boys looked partially starved, and he was almost certain that if he could get to them, he'd be able to close his fingers around their wrists or ankles with far too much overlap.
Where the fuck was his crew and why the fuck were his sons alone???
The stage was set, though, and he had his role to play. So he just winds his haki tighter, presses as much love-care-guiot-pride-love-love-love into his energy as he can before wrapping it around his kids as subtly as he can.
Then he's spoken, there's cheering, there's movement and pain and-
Nothing.
Roger comes to a few months later.
It takes time to collect himself and his pieces enough to be aware.
Step one - find his kids!!
Shanks and Buggy are not little twin-flame-beacons - Roger assumes they must be back with the crew. He'll have words for them later. For now, Rouge should be due any day! Off to her he goes~
And to carnage he arrives.
It's all he can do to help cause a ruckus where he can when prying eyes get so close to his wife. She is pushing hard with her Haki and he's raging and crying and grieving all at once. Every day that the crusade continues is the day he hopes Garp arrives, that he does something, that he can do anything, that he won't lose her.
He stays longer than expected. A year and a half, and Baterilla is a ghost town. Rouge is barely alive, but their child's energy is bright and bold and u apologetic. Some nights, while she sleeps, he lays his head against her tummy and whispers to Ace or Anne about the world - about the good things, because those are the things the baby should know, those are the things this baby deserves.
Ace is born just as Garp arrives. Rouge dies and Roger grieves.
She comes back far quicker than he did and proceeds to smack him with her shoe, curse him up one side and down another, then wrap him into her arms and cry.
They follow Garp, follow Ace, and they watch over their baby. Dadan is not one who they would choose as a foster mother at a glance, but they warm up to get quickly. Rouge spends her time with Roger watching over their baby boy before she shoos her husband off to check on their other kids. She's never had the chance to meet her stepsons but she loves them all the same.
It takes him longer than expected to find them.
For one, they separated - and how in all the Seas did that happen- and for another, they're making crews. Mostly. Shanks has a crew budding, and Buggy now has a new look in his eyes and a fixation on wearing gloves, but whatever.
So he just. Bounces between the three, occasionally hunting down former crew members to make his displeasure Very Clear.
Only Buggy has ever seen him.
Sometimes Shanks will respond, will seem to Feel something off, but Buggy has always been the one to see the things nobody else could.
So Roger pokes at his littlest apprentice as much as he feasibly can.
It's only by pure happenstance that his kid grows up - and puts on weight, Roger and Rouge both are so proud - and manages to bag a goth Real Housewife Of The Grandline Drama Addict who accidentally-on-purpose adopted a girl with a penchant for divination and spirit boards.
Buggy isn't in the habit of mentioning the things all around people after the first few times landed with broken bones and bogo free trauma.
Now that Roger has ATTENTION however, and a way of talking to more people, AND a chance to gush about his kids to a listening party, well-
He is thriving. Rouge is giggling at him. Buggy is trying desperately to ignore his dead dad and equally dead step mother debating which embarrassing story to tell Pero-chan next.
He's just hoping and praying that they don't tell her about the Secret Spy Incident. He's not sure his blood pressure could take it.
I feel like I’m getting annoying with all these agere asks but I’m in a weird headspace rn and so my favs now have to regress and be happy so I can sleep better and maybe someone else gets a kick outta it I dunno? Anyways
I still love the idea that Buggy’s regression is mostly unrelated to wanting to wear certain clothes or long for certain toys or even a specific kind of food or such, I like to think it’s very „No. aesthetic“ type of regression, where you probably couldn’t tell at first glance and it’s not as easy as just giving him kiddie stuff and he’ll be happy. (Not to knock on anyone who does like the aesthetics and kiddie stuff just to be clear.) so he actually doesn’t have a bunch of toys and plushies and such and doesn’t really ask for them either.
…. THAT BEING SAID
Buggy should most definitely have an absolutely gigantic plush Fruitwani. Massive thing. It’s almost as big as Crocodile himself and that’s not counting the tail. A complete impulse purchase by Crocodile as well, being separated from his husbands for a while, having to delay reuniting them for another two days because of unforeseen circumstances and some unfortunate encounters with some Marines. Talking on the Denden to both of them and learning Buggy has had some bad regression days behind him. He doesn’t even let himself slip fully, there’s still a part of him that knows why Crocodile isn’t back with them, so he tries to stay in a big headspace when talking to him, but inwardly Buggy just wants to cry badly and curl up into Mihawks arms all day because Croccy isn’t home and he doesn’t LIKE it when people aren’t with him for too long because they may never come back. It’s a mess. Crocodiles suffering, Mihawk is suffering and Buggy is absolutely miserable.
So when Crocodile spots the giant plush toy sitting in a store window, surrounded by smaller plushtoys, his mind is immediately made up. Yes that one. Just for decoration? Not for sale? Well it is now. No. No that can be arranged. No the price doesn’t matter, he will leave this island with this absolute beast of a plush toy no matter how many Beri he has to spend or who he’ll have to harm if that what it takes. He WILL have that toy.
Buggy still clings to Crocodile more than usual when he gets back, no plush could ever replace the connection he was craving…. But after he has settled down a bit more the plush actually becomes on of his favorite toys. Not even just when he’s regressed, he just loves this thing. Has spooked several people wanting to talk business with Crossguild coming into the room finding chairman Buggy lounging on, what appears to be, a full sized Fruitwani , it just looks that convincing at first glance. For Buggy it’s not only cool and flashy, it’s a very, literally, big reminder that Crocodile cares about him in his own way, even when on some days the most he’ll get from him is a good morning kiss and the rest of the day is filled with snark towards him until he bids him and Mihawk goodnight again. It just means a lot to him to know he’s loved even when he’s being vulnerable or difficult.
Also yes, Crocodile also loves this thing and Mihawk has been on the suffering end of him and Buggy spooning the damn thing at night while he goes woefully unembraced on his side of the bed „ah yes, just me, my fiances, and the eight foot tall Applewani plush one of them threatened a shop owner over.“
Olay lemme preface this with some things
1) you're not annoying at all, and if anyone says you are, I'll eat their knees
2) I get it - honestly posting content for Buggy specifically for age regression was nerve wracking bc like. Idek really. But giving things I experience to characters I love is so cathartic, and I've spent more than a few nights just.... daydreaming about stuff like that just to be happy and comfy and cozy. No judgement on this blog, of that I promise you ♡♡♡
3) agere is valid every and any way, aesthetic or not, visible or not, it's doesn't matter, only the ways people feel. If you're safe, happy, and not harming anyone, you're doing so perfect and I love you and am proud of you
Now with my soap box stuff done, HOLY HECK YES YES PLZ I LOVE THIS I ADORE I NEED IT, GODS YOUR MIND!!!!! (/pos)
Buggy isn't a typical person, head to toe, inside out, he's Flashy but also incredibly subtle. His regression isn't some cookie cutter type of deal, he's wild and slightly feral in some ways, he's unusual and perfect and precious. His idea of a good time is knife games, climbing (everything is sight, nothing is sacred), explosions, and playing poker. He has a special rope that's just for him to tie and play with ((and occasionally chew on, though Mihawk has a mild heart attack every time he sees it while Crocodile cringes into the next plane of existence in disgust)).
At a glance, not much changes, but Mihawk can feel the change in Haki, and Crocodile can see the microscopic things there when Buggy shifts. He holds things differently, stims more visibly, just seems bouncier and even more animated yet somehow much more calm. The best explanation comes from Buggy himself in describing the shifting between his headspaces. "Some things turn off and others pop on open."
The worst thing to Buggy in general is a perception of loss or abandonment. Logically, he knows it isn't the case, and he can cling to that mostly, but experience has taught him that distance does NOT, in fact, make hearts grow fonder - at least, not for him. The one and only time he felt it may have applied - and this is a very tentative maybe - was when he reunited with his crew, made into Alvida's image and her decisions. There was no war over crew nor ship, just an allowance to slip back in as if he'd never quite left. The only changes or acknowledgement was Alvida's slightly awkward, brusque, yet lingering touch to his arm when she gave it a squeeze and remarked that "handling these hoodlums solo is not my idea if a good time." He was needed, and that did wonders for his security but not so much for the mental health.
Crocodile and Mihawk don't need him - he's the face man, sure, and he's got a talent for manipulation, speeches, rallying men. But at the end of the day, they outshine him despite their proclivities for the shadows. It's a juxtaposition. It's safe. It's wonderful, and Buggy still struggles to trust in the reliability there.
Logically, he knows- Croc is out, managing something for work, he's coming back, he will be back, he's not alone or abandoned or suddenly useless and worthless.
But he still feels it all.
And falling into his headspace to decompress is always harder when he's upset or scared, it only really works when he boils over, and the meltdown that would lead to is counterproductive. So he's waffling between the two, assured only by the calls, by Mihawk, and the few other places he can get some semblance normalcy and security.
When Crocodile does come home, a comically large plush toy over his shoulder, Buggy's already practically vibrating and is completely beyond the point of words in a positive way. He just squeals, lunges and the cushion of sand catching his weight is warm and safe and cozy and he clings, a clown themed koala, right there without shame.
The plush doesn't come up until later.
When someone inevitably asks - and, interestingly enough, it is Mihawk who does - Croc is honest. "Thought the clown would like it for longer trios like this."
The toy is big, yes, and also decently heavy, moreso than even it's size may seem. It's partially weighted in the tummy, legs and jaw, a display piece more than a toy for playing with, and Buggy is absolutely obsessed. It's Croco-sized, and it's a 'wani, and it's soft and cute and heavy. He loves it.
His first order of business is immediately dropping down to scramble under it and just... going limp. He wriggles a little, humming softly before falling still, cheek squished into his forearms, hair a mess but he's smiling, he's relaxed, he's comfy and happy and safe and with his boyfriends' Haki on the edges if his muffled, fuzzy awareness, he truly unwinds for the first time in over a week.
Crocodile carefully tugs his hair from under the toy with his hook, and Mihawk hands him a little fidget toy or a rope.
The toy is named later on, as demanded by a tiny jester with a frankly lethal set of baby doll eyes and quivering lip. Really, he could topple nations with that face, the other two swear.
Mihawk simply has to make peace with Addie the Applewani Cuddle Buddy having a semi permanent spot in the bed.
Good golly gumdrops I'm gonna go absolutely apeshit real quick here
Disabled Buggy Ideas!!!!!!
Buggy who uses his Devil Fruit as a mobility aid on days when his joints are Extra Sore, especially his ankles/knees/etc.
Buggy who sometimes gets vertigo and so cannot always float around bc of the dizziness. On days like that, he has physical mobility aids.
His first aid was a can - Mohji and Ritchie stole it when the crew was still pretty new - Buggy was about 15, Mohji about 11, and Ritchie was a tiny little thing. They had noticed Buggy cringed a little more on certain days, when he walked or got up or sat down. They presented it to him with big smiles and Buggy wound up crying. They decorated it together.
His second aid was another cane, this one a gift from the crew, now bigger. They carved it and went absolutely ham with decorating it but sealing it well - his first one was a little worse for wear, paint chipping, wood a little roughed up. That one gets retired to a place of honor for Buggy's precious keepsakes. The new one is a bit sturdier too.
The third one came from someone on the crew actually. It was a hand me down. One of the tailors on board had recently gotten gifted a new walker to replace their forearm crutches. And when she was downsizing, she asked Buggy if he'd ever used them before, if he knew anyone who did. Those become his favored items because of the versatility, the cuffs, and how it evens out the pressure on his hands/wrists/elbows/shoulders.
At some points, he also gets braces, compression stuff, etc.
After Impel Down, his body was damn near debilitated. He was good for playing up the prestige and audacity and faux confidence, but Shanks saw through him immediately when he offered a ride on the Red Force. Luckily, an allied ship under them was also there and had the means and room to carry Buggy's accidentally-acquired men, women and others who sworn fealty to him. With strict orders from Buggy to mind their manners and to assist where they could, deferring to the ship's crew, they were set up there by majority. Few remained on the Red Force specifically.
Once away from prying, assessing, worshipping eyes, Buggy drops a few of the many masks he wears. He sags a little, moving to squeeze his eyes shut, pressing his palms over his eyes and grimacing as he tries to shift his weight.
A warm, calloused hand presses over his eyes. Buggy inhales shakily, letting his own hands move so Shanks could block the light from his gaze. He leaned into the touch.
"Hey," the redhead says softly, "Hongo wants to check you over. Do you want my room or the medbay?"
A strangled noise, not unlike a drowning cat, escapes the clown's mouth. Shanks shuffles closer, not touching, but close enough for his body heat to be felt.
"Okay," he breathes, "Okay, I've got you, Bugs..."
Buggy lets himself be led by his best friend, his Red, his Shanks, docile and blinded and dizzy. At some point he can Feel two people join them, and Shanks's voice, carefully soft and quiet and familiar, guides him along with gentle murmurs of "step in two, yeah, there you go"s and "duck your head for me, perfect"s.
At one point while stepping down the stairs, Buggy's right knee gives a sharp and deafening CRACK, white-hot-ice-blue pain shooting up and down his leg and hip. He chokes on it, body trying to split, to get away from the pain, and he teeters, teeth grit and breath stolen. A warm chest at his back steadies him, and Buggy gags at the disoriented agony. Shanks is oozing worry and anxiety, Hongo is nearly vibrating, Buggy is trying to keep from just falling to pieces on the floor- so Benn just rubs the blue haired pirate's shoulder. "It's alright," he soothes softly, gently, baritone warm and assuring. "I'm going to pick you up, alright? It's alright, I carry Cap over there all the time when he gets drunk as a skunk. Can I touch you?"
Buggy barely manages a nod, and he's only mildly ashamed of how tightly he clings when Benn lifts him so carefully, so kindly, breathing through the bubbles in his eyes and throat, the electricity in his veins and nerves. The soft pop-clicks of his body splitting and reconnecting filled the air.
They take Buggy to Shanks's room, hoping it would be less stressful. The preliminary check could be done with the generic things Hongo can grab and bring along, anything requiring something more severe would need preparation anyway, and it would take time to be able to execute safely. It was a hefty choice, but one none involved with could regret when Buggy, still coiled tightly and far too pale, clung tightly to Shanks's wrist, hand still over his eyes, like it was the only thing keeping him sane. Bad blood aside, he really was rather attached.
Maneuvering was tedious but nobody breathed a hint of complaint, not even Benn when Shanks immediately climbed into his own bed, gesturing to have the other captain given to him.
Hongo's initial assessment had him pursing his lips and breathing through fury, had Benn aching for a cigarette and Shanks visibly counting aloud to avoid an explosion of his Haki. Buggy was semi coherent through it all.
The next day, Hongo strictly tells Buggy to rest Or Else, to Especially Not Climb Or Run, to minimize walking as well. The stress fractures alone were bad, but the inflammation, the swelling, the EVERYTHING had his nerves on edge. Buggy, knowing not to question a medical professional, concedes. Shanks capitalizes on the Buggy Time, and he whines and complains the whole time he has to be away from his Bugaboo.
Galdino is a little skeptical, especially given how his own injuries were deemed not as severe. Buggy's embarrassed by the princess treatment, as Shanks calls it ((as Roger once called it when they were young and Buggy's flare ups really began in full, to Crocus's endless worry and frantic searches)). Meeting up with the Big Top yields answers yet brews more questions in turn as the other's immediately touch base with Hongo while some others scurry off once updated to 'grab the goods', only to return with a forearm crutch and colorful ace wraps.
It's a wild ride start to finish and Galdino is left with many, MANY questions, the other's as well, but Buggy's crew as well as Shanks's set them straight pretty quickly. After all, someone else's medical records are not your business and you have no right to pass judgement on someone's use of aids.
It's normalized for people in the Buggy Pirates to use different mobility aids, to see people out and about with things that they can use to better their quality of life and express themselves therewith.
Buggy's pillow case outfit is a play on that - on using his Devil Fruit for movement and ease of motion, for hiding his braves or wraps and for the additional bonus of playing on the perceptions of others.
Mihawk and Crocodile, once they join, are not privy to what is beneath the onesie. The former can, however, tell on occasion when Buggy's having a bad flare up, though not why.
It's only after Buggy tells them, either by choice or circumstantial events, the truth that they put together these pieces.
And from there? Well, neither of them are particularly Typical themselves. Mihawk has a nerve disorder which gives him difficulty with feeling pain. Crocodile is an amputee. They're not about to judge for any of that. They will however judge Buggy's tendency of pushing himself too far too frequently.
Just. Chronically ill/disabled Buggy. I love himmmm
Hiiii thanks for answering my moment-of-weakness-at-2am-ish ask lmao
Sooo u said that u have lots of thoughts abt accidental rizz buggy,, and in p sure that the marines wer the tip of the iceberg... can we pls have more of ur ideas abt it?🥣😳🙏 im brainrotting but its vague scenarios that i cannot put into words aaaa writing is hard
Do u have ideas abt him rizzing the pirate populace? Or him doing circus tricks that are also hot,, like teaching some of his crew some acts while in a hot practice outfit,, like im talking about those tight but stretchy turtle necks and long gloves that almost reaches the shoulders also paired with loose pants but his ass still looks good in it, with them bare leg socks(the ones that show his toes n heel) and him taking his lectures seriously and oblivious to his crew just looking (dis)respectfully and having brain empty,, kinda like nightwing teaching gymnastics to women (i wish dat wer me)
Then croco and mihawk are also lowkey attending the lessons w an excuse
Or maybe abt his followers from the crew making buggy merch like pictures but they took some pics of buggy candid, pics that show more of his calmer side cuz I KNOW he pretty, he just emotes like a muppet lol,, which is then mass produced by his followers and them fanboying/girling over it, which then slowly spreads throughout the grandline n the 4 blues cuz ppl be curious abt who dat pretty blue haired pirate is then be shocked learning that its buggy the loud n flashy guy that could have a calm and soft side,,
and ppl demand more so his followers keep taking pictures of him, while buggy is oblivious to the fact that the pics are being distributed/selling,, then someone took notice of stonks rising that someone being crocodile and is somewhat surprised yet not surprised abt the public wanting more pics and then capitalized on this,, then croco is now making buggy have photoshoots but it gets thirst trappy, and now croco n the others in the set are also thirstier than the alabasta desert lollll, buggy still remains oblivious thinking that doing this for morale lolol
so now buggy has amassed a huge following by accident and the public gets even more thirstier because of the thirst trap photos,, and shanks be on his knees and jelly that so many ppl are thirsting after his buggy, and then ransacked a ship carrying the buggy pics n merch and had added it to his buggy room, which is a room full of buggy merch n pics lmao,, the red force r exasperated at first but then took a look at the pictures and they kinda understand their captain now lolll
And buggy still remains oblivious,, maybe until he decides to sail to an island and instead of ppl being kind of wary yet accepting due to his charisma,, he'll be bombarded with ppl carrying his (maybe thirsty) photos/posters asking for gis autograph,, and he be so shocked n confused but hes still a performer at heart so he fakes smiles thanks the crowd of ppl and signs the posters,,, Then suddenly he goes back to crossguild n asks them about it and is pissed at the fact that he couldve made more money in his knowledge lololol
dats all i have for now thank u for reading dis long ass ask :D
YES omfg just all the yes
Some general headcanons here on my end, but Buggy is STRONG okay, both bc of his circus skills, knife fighting and devil fruit. He just isn't Full Six Pack Washboard Abs. He's got a little curve. A layer of cuddly softness. HEALTHY muscle.
So he absolutely has a multi-faceted fan club of pirates, civilians, marines, alike. Some love the soft prettiness. Some like the fierce candid shots. Some are absolutely FERAL over casual competence.
Buggy regularly has cross training classes, I bet. He's a bit of a jack of all trades, and so he's got some skill in all sorts of topics that are useful. Piracy and circus performing are a lot more alike than a lot of people think, after all. He arranges classes and stuff to make sure everyone has some sort of transferable skill.
It's not HIS fault that he has his hair up for practicality, a sleeveless leotard and high waited capris. He's dressed for class, that's all.
If he does catch anyone staring, he bristles, taking it the wrong way.
Later on down the line, all of the sudden realizations that people are making MONEY, off of pictures from HIM hit him like a sack of bricks, and he rushes to his sassy besties, just "Gal, Vida. Am I pretty??? Like seriously, AM i????"
A: "No." / G: "Yes."
B: "................... a h."
The candid shots become photoshoots, become thirst traps, become eventual pin ups after Mihawk and Crocodile get Inspired. Buggy has the range to play the masc and femme with ease, and he's surprisingly photogenic.
Bonus: an entire line of Buggy Body Pillows with extra padding in the butt. ((Shanks owns several))
Time to project onto my blorbo because I am Going Through It Rn
Modern AU bc I am gonna make it a THINGGGGG
Bonus: info
TW for under the cut: • mental health crisis, • dysphoria, • US Capitalistic hellscape (that should be a tag), • disabilities, • allusions to SH but not explicit, just a quick lil vague allusion, • offers to punch a police officer???
Just. Buggy who has hypermobility and chronic subluxation and dislocations. He never got the genetic testing done so nothing is on hard paper or file about it beyond "hypermobility syndrome". Buggy who was a performer and a dancer and a hard worker who was a manager as a fast food chain and was KILLING IT, day shift there, nights spent as a dancer, aerialist, had a stint in a literal circus-
Buggy who was so used to "taking one for the team" that it becomes smth of a trigger phrase, who has turned to dissociation as the coping mechanism of choice when he hurts, is overwhelmed, is scared or in any way Not Okay
Buggy who has bled and bled and bled for his people and his loved ones because it was the only thing he knew how to do.
Buggy whose body finally gave in, enough for medical professionals to declare him permanently damaged, not enough for the government to offer anything by way of assistance.
Buggy whose mental health thus becomes absolutely FUCKED as a result, no longer able to fall on familiar habits because he physically can't - but he needs to work, needs to perform, needs to be of USE, needs to be IMPORTANT in others' lives lest they leave him too-
And Buggy falling into Old Old Habits he had been clean of for so long. It feels like a betrayal. It feels like comfort. It hurts. The pain is good.
He's functioning.
Then within two months, something Switches. The crutch has become a impassable wall, his threshold has evaporated, he is sparking on funds and he knows he needs to reach out, but he's scared, he's so scared because the last time was horrid, but they've grown, they've changed they promised-
He reaches out. "I can't do this," he admits like a confession, like an admission of sin. "I need help," he chokes, the words like poison but needed he knows this, he knows it's killing the bad but-
"Take one for the team," they tell him.
And Buggy breaks. He smiles. He's pieces of porcelain, held with masking tape because he Has To Be. He Has To Be This, He Has To Do This, He Has To He Has To He Has To-
He doesn't, actually. Red stains his skin, stabbed scarred l and fresh alike, but the red in his retinas is so much brighter because Shanks is bright, is Red, is Shanks, and Shanks is here, is there, is holding his hands and telling him to breathe and trust him and Buggy is held, is safe, is broken, is sad-
And Crocodile is warm, is sturdy when Buggy is scooped into his arms. Mihawk is efficient with how he expertly cleans, wraps, pins, with how he braids Buggy's hair back and ushers him into comfortable clothes.
Things will be alright, they assure him, things are tight but they'll do it, they'll figure it out, because what is money compared to him, what is opulence or a fancy car payment in comparison to their favorite joker? It is nothing, they assure him, nothing can compare to a brother, a boyfriend, a friend, a son - those were the words that mattered, nothing more, nothing less, because Buggy Is Worth It.
The money isn't the crux of the problem, not really, but it's this episode's manifestation, it's the focus, the fixation. It's a trauma, but it's not the whole picture, but they will mend this piece as best they can, they will hold the pieces in place until Buggy is strong enough to hold them himself because they love him, they love him, by the Seas and Skies, they love him.
And when Buggy, half asleep, begs to not "go back", he doesn't have to specify, the group knowing the horrors beyond sugar-sweet smiles and sickly mint walls. They will not admit him, not unless he chooses to go in himself, and Shanks may get a slap upside the head when he offers to punch anyone who tries, cops included.
