#I JUST STARTED ONE PIECE TODAY

[satorisoup]

oh my goodness… im going crazy >//<

[flimflamfranky]

a tribute to the best birthday boy around 💙

[dvrtrblhr]

a little wip (cropped) for kagero's bday! missed drawing this ship!

anyway, i'm not really satisfied with the direction this one is going (happens A LOT) so i might just scrap it and try again some other time (like in a year lol)

[kyurochurro]

simon dobbles :DD

[its-your-mind]

HEY. HEY.

HEY @re-dracula WHAT GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO HAVE JONATHAN ACTUALLY READING THAT PASSAGE OUT LOUD BEHIND SEWARD DESCRIBING THE SCENE, HUH? WITH THE TEARS IN HIS VOICE AND THE PAUSING AND THE SHORT LITTLE INHALES AND THE VOICE CRACKS? WAS IT TRULY NECESSARY??? I WAS ALREADY CRYING. I DIDN'T NEED THIS TOO. WHAT THE FUCK.

[beanghostprincess]

headcanon that actually sanji's eyes are each of a different color (like, blue and soft brown kind of very yellowish. heterochromia is beautiful like that) and after the time skip, when he changes his hairstyle, nobody actually notices because after 2 years of not seeing each other of course they wouldn't remember his eye color. and he actually prefers it this way because he can't deal with them laughing about it now.

but then, one night, when usopp and him are on night guard together for the first time in ages (they're both pining idiots and lost the chance to confess when sabaody happened) usopp won't stop staring at him, focused on his eye, specifically. sanji takes a drag of his cigarette and he feels himself getting more nervous by the second. "is the smoke bothering you or-"

"no!" usopp replies a bit too fast, blushing and instantly bringing his hand to the back of his neck, looking around to avoid sanji's face for a while. "i was just thinking..." he takes a deep breath, and goes back to looking at sanji. the cook won't stop thinking about how long the sniper's hair is and the way it gently falls over his shoulders as he speaks. he doesn't even notice usopp's lovesick stare when he speaks. "your eyes. i liked the blue one. reminds me of the sea."

sanji's heartbeat stops for a second there, and he almost chokes on the smoke but covers it with a dry laugh. "so this one isn't pretty enough for your liking, then?" he tries to sound sarcastic and prays for usopp not to notice the way his voice falters with fear.

usopp's eyes are wide open. "of course it is! it's- it's pretty. really... pretty." the sniper feels his body shaking as he tries to fix what he said. they're both acting stupid, blushing and trying not to seem too focused on the other. but it's not like neither of them can hold back from staring at each other. silence comes, and somehow usopp has the courage to smile. "it's just like sand. or gold."

"that's the best metaphor you can come up with, longnose?" he says this as if he wasn't on the verge of tears.

the sniper shrugs his shoulders. "why would you cover one? together they'd be, you know, like the beach. sand, gold, the sea... it's- um- cool."

sanji raises his eyebrow at that, and scoffs as he takes another drag of his cigarette. he doesn't want to finish it that early, or he won't have anything to do with his hands later. "i wouldn't hear the end of it if i did."

"but they're beautiful!" usopp insists. they've been sitting closer and closer.

beautiful.

something inside of sanji breaks after hearing that word, looking up at the night sky for a moment with a bittersweet smile. "well, men aren't supposed to be be-"

"why not?" that catches him off guard. usopp's decisive eyes meet his. the sniper's hand is shaking, but he still makes an effort to touch sanji's hair ever so slightly, thinking twice about it. their faces are so close sanji refuses to smoke in case he burns usopp. "can i?"

sanji looks around for a few seconds, and thinks about refusing. about denying him the chance to see his face completely. to witness what he truly looks like. but he nods, anyway. "you tell somebody about this and i murder you. they haven't noticed yet."

usopp hums at that, a tiny, excited smile showing up on his lips. "because they don't pay attention to you. only an idiot wouldn't be able to notice."

"maybe you pay too much attention to me." and it kind of sounds like 'i don't deserve that you do'.

but usopp finally moves his hair to the side, and the way his breathing twitches says 'you deserve everything. you're everything' and the sniper kind of hopes he hears it. usopp takes a deep breath, letting his other hand travel to sanji's face so he can hold it better. the cook grabs him by the wrist but keeps it there.

they're both shaking.

sanji lets out an embarrassed laugh, something that usopp has never heard coming from him. "not that cool when you see both at the same time, huh? the eyebrows are also-"

"you're gorgeous."

before any of them can panic at usopp's sudden comment, sanji's grip on his wrist tightens. usopp notices, looking down at his lips for a second, going back at his eyes again.

they keep looking at each other for a while, realizing that usopp is kind of almost on top of sanji at this point, and that neither of them wants the other to move away. they just want- need each other closer.

sanji is so overwhelmed by his words he isn't sure of what to say, so he just slides his hand to grab usopp's tightly. beautiful. gorgeous. it's breaking him. it's too much. and yet, he wants more.

"can you- say it again?"

"you're beautiful." he breathes out. "gorgeous. the prettiest person i've ever-"

"oh, shut up!" sanji can't help but laugh at the exaggeration, but usopp is completely serious.

oh, fuck, he's being completely serious. because the sniper is now too close to him, and he isn't smiling anymore. "can i draw you someday?"

and perhaps it's the butt of the cigarette burning his fingertips, but he feels brave enough to lean into usopp. "can you kiss me first?" and it comes out instinctively.

the way the sniper jumps a bit, surprised at his words is endearing enough for the cook to smile right away. "what? yes? yes. of course. yes. yea-"

it's sanji who kisses him.

and he thinks, while all the ashes fall completely on the deck, that he'll keep covering one of his eyes. not because he doesn't think they're beautiful enough to be seen. not because he's ashamed.

he just doesn't want usopp to get used to them. he wants him to draw him and kiss him and hold him like this forever, every time he sees both of his eyes and eyebrows, like the first time. forever. and besides, the sniper is right. the others didn't even notice. perhaps they will after a few more days of being together, but for now?

maybe sanji really, really likes the fact that usopp is the only one that pays this much attention to him.

[bunnys-babies]

Talk To You, pt. 2

Megumi Fushiguro x gn!reader

wc: 1.2k

pt. 2 / ?

warning(s): mentions of puke, mentions of taxidermy - so if any of that really icks you out tread lightly :)

a/n: it’s been a while, but if anyone recalls pt. 1 of this, it’s just a continuation 🥰 (feel free to read hehe) but it’s not necessarily required! Could be read as a stand alone :)) just a silly and nervous first date 🤍🤍 reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! I hope you enjoy :3 also, I am very behind on JJK, please do not spoil anything in the tags because I do see them! So if this is “canon divergent”, that’s why LMAO

pt. 1

He’s going to puke. He’s absolutely, 100%, sure of it.

He’s so sweaty that he’s certain he must stink, he hates his outfit, and why is his hair so frizzy? He knew he shouldn’t have listened to Kugisaki and let her “do him up”.

The bus seat vibrates beneath him and emits one of the most brain piercing rattles he thinks he’s ever heard as he impatiently waits for his stop.

Oh god, they aren’t gonna think I’m a loser for taking the bus, are they?

Sighing and picking at the cuticle along his thumb nail, he does his best to focus on keeping track of the colors of the cars passing by. What good would dwelling on your perception of him do when it’s only making him continue to profusely sweat anyways?

It’s been a week since he got your number. Well, since Yuuji got your number for him, sort of.

And over the course of that week, Megumi’s convinced himself he’s done nothing besides behave like a fool.

He’s spelt your name wrong, twice, and then wondered why he even felt the need to address you by name in text. He sent you a list of options for dates, listing location and expected cost, as well as sending them in order of “most to least active”. And then, when you surprisingly agreed and made a choice, he sent you a calendar invite.

Nothing about this even seemed remotely out of the ordinary to him until Kugisaki asked how you both ended up deciding on going through a “local, close up walkthrough” of a taxidermist’s home.

“Huh?” Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open after she spoke, eager, and a little scared, to hear Megumi’s response.

“Well, out of our options, it was the most cost effective and productive choice. Lots of conversation starters. They seemed pretty interested.”

Doubt and embarrassment began to knot his stomach at the lack of response from Kugisaki.

“What? They picked it. So clearly they wanted to go to this thing.”

Still no response.

“Right?”

Crickets.

“Kugisaki.”

Pressing her mouth into a thin line, she stops her relentless fidgeting over Megumi’s hair and clothes and crosses her arms over her chest instead.

“Fushiguro,”, she spoke slowly and softly, “couple questions. One, did you offer this idea? Two, if so, what were the other options?”

Something about the way she spoke only increased his anxiety.

Oh, he messed up.

Unfortunately, after explaining himself, there wasn’t any time left to get some sort of reassurance from her that he hadn’t completely fucked this all up.

And god, why did he have to approach this so… professionally?

He stopped himself from letting out a groan before the brakes squealed at an alarming volume as the bus came to a stop.

Muttering out a nearly silent thanks to the driver, he takes a step out onto the darkened sidewalk. It must have rained earlier.

It takes him about 20 minutes to locate and walk to the house, his shoes covered in a shine from the dew still fresh on the grass.

As he waits, part of him is wishing you just don’t show up. This has just all played out in the worst way, and he’d rather take the embarrassment of being stood up than being around you for an hour, possibly multiple, while you pretend he isn’t a freak and that you aren’t showing up out of anything but pity.

His stomach churns at the sound of a car door shutting, and he’s back to that god forbidden feeling like he’s going to hurl, when he hears a soft “Fushiguro?” being called out to him from his left.

A visibly strained smile is offered to you as Megumi turns to greet you.

God, you knew this sweater was too gaudy.

“How was the drive for yo-“

“Looks like it rain-“

Awkward laughs are exchanged at the sudden silence you both sit in after accidentally interrupting each other.

After, Megumi silently insists you continue to speak with a few hand gestures and nod of his head.

“Yeah, I was just gonna ask how the drive was for you! It rained pretty hard where I was coming from, and I swear my wipers were ready to fly off.”

Damnit.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t drive.” He turned his body to face the front of the house, hoping his embarrassment was less visible from the side of his face.

“Oh nice idea, I hate driving in the rain. I totally should’ve considered that.” Turning to face the house yourself, you wait for him to take the first steps before walking forward.

A mixture of relief and bashfulness wash over him at your simple response and unexpected, but welcoming, flattery.

Nice idea.

Fighting back the small smile and pride swelling in his chest, he begins to walk forward, doing his best to strike conversation as you make your way to the front door despite the nagging stomach ache he’s gotten.

He’s never been so nervous before.

Kugisaki has no idea what she was talking about, this is going to be simply lovely.

—

The vomit covering the top of your shoes as you rub the spot between Megumi’s shoulder blades is staring at him. And if it could laugh and point it’d probably be doing that, too.

“You okay?” You speak so soft he almost doesn’t hear you ask.

No, he’s not okay.

He just blew chunks all over both of your shoes (and the eclectic man’s maroon carpet), vomited again at the smell, and then nearly tripped his way down the front steps as he continued to puke into the Taxidermist’s front lawn.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

Maybe it was a little more than just his nerves making him nauseous.

“Y’know, if I knew you were gonna get this freaked out over the ‘Pope Mouse’, I would’ve gone with the bird watching option instead.”

It takes him a minute to realize you’re joking. You’re actually joking with him and trying to salvage whatever this is.

Whether it was out of shock, sympathy at your mediocre attempt of a joke, or the image of that poor dead rat dressed up as the pope, he let out a low chuckle.

He kept his posture leaned over and his head down, waiting to make sure he truly was all done, when you realized your hand was still rubbing gentle circles into his upper back. Gingerly, you lifted your hand and placed it in your pocket, trying not to focus on the vomit on your shoes.

All things considered, you really were having a great time.

He’s strange, definitely a little shy, maybe even abrasive, not the best at conversation, has interesting ideas of fun, and literally threw up on your shoes, but he was such a sweetheart. It helped he was more than nice to look at sure, but his nervousness and slightly off-putting personality did nothing but attract you even more.

You’ve never been on a more eventful date, that’s for sure. And you’ve never met someone who clearly put so much thought into spending time with you, and his anxiety was more than obvious. Did he really like you that much?

Regardless, you thought he at least deserved another chance at a second date, one where you could actually get to know more about him other than the fact he might have a weak stomach.

“If you promise not to puke in my car, and help me clean off our shoes, we can try again. Probably somewhere we can sit and chat instead of stare at poorly done taxidermy.”

Unfortunately, before you could offer up any good ideas, he was back to busying himself with vomiting.

At least he’s really cute.

——————

taglist: @plutowrites @lunarsap @alonezz @softjaegerhours @onismikasa (if you’d like to be removed/added please let me know!)

[ruvviks]

we would sell anything just to buy who we're not // we kill our way to heaven

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[mayhemspreadingguy]

This is where the goth cat belongs.

[quirkle2]

Shigeo still doesn’t know how to answer. He hasn’t answered, and he knows that’s weird, and maybe a bit creepy, but it’s also characteristic of him, so maybe he doesn’t need to stress over it. He simply sits there in the heavy rain instead and watches Reigen’s pink tie get dragged by the gales. And then Serizawa crouches down, lowers his hand out, and shelters Shigeo’s head with the draped fabric of a clear umbrella. In Shigeo’s world, the rain stops.

scene from my wip fic recondite :]

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

It's your blood that haunts my dreams and sticks to my hands, not mine.

Please Stop Replacing My Memories (They Are All I Have)

[jo-gakky]

OMG MORE DOODLES?! FROM ME?!? OF MY OP AU?!?! unbelievable- this is mostly me making plot doodles and concept art- so um non-canon? at least yet?

idk if you can tell that i REALLY like angry Buggy <333 silly coward man being angry?? yum <33

[stinkiesdraws]

[becca-e-barnes]

I reallyyyy want to talk about how much fun it would be to jerk a really submissive Bucky off with a pair of soaked panties 🙈

I feel like submissive Bucky is so vocal too and I love that thought. He trusts you completely with his body and he's not ashamed to make as much noise as he wants to.

He knows what his little whines and moans do to you. You get off on his desperation and he absolutely knows it. You can't help but melt when he looks up at you from his knees, his eyes wide and expectant, whispering "please, mommy" when all he wants is permission to kiss from your ankle to your knee.

He's learned that being well mannered is the only way to get what he wants so you don't mind rewarding his good behaviour. His plump lips begin to trail eagerly from the ankle strap of your heel, up the side of your calf until he reaches the joint at your knee. Your fingers tangle in his hair, warning him not to go any further and the groan he elicits is heavenly.

"Please let me kiss you." He practically sounds like he's panting. Frustration has settled into his features, his eyes trained on the cherry red lace that shields your sex from his hungry gaze.

He knows you're already wet and he knows that if he's just able to kiss a little bit higher, your self control might waver enough that you'll allow him to lap up your arousal and that's really all he's dreaming of.

"You're so selfless, aren't you?" Your sarcasm isn't lost on him. He wants to taste you because he wants to taste you, not so much for your pleasure. "No, let's try something different."

You slip your panties down your legs but he's smart enough to know you aren't going to give him exactly what he wants.

You kneel down beside him, lining your hand with the slick lace before wrapping your fingers around his stiff cock that's been begging for attention for far too long now.

"O-oh my God." The first stroke of your hand makes him crumble. Despite being slick, the lace offers so much friction and he's far too sensitive for that.

Your hand pumps quickly, watching his face while he begins to slip. "Good boy, that's it. Take it. Fuck, you're so pretty, do you know that? You're doing so well for me."

" 's too much. Please. Don't stop." His head falls forwards onto your shoulder, groaning pathetically into the crook of your neck.

"Do you want to cum, sweetheart? Are you going to be a filthy slut and cum in my panties? Do you even realise how fucked up that is?" Your soft voice makes him melt up until your hand on his cock speeds up.

"Y-yes. Oh God yes, please let me cum." He didn't think it'd be this easy but when you give him permission, he knows to take the opportunity while he's getting it.

In just a few more minutes, his thighs are trembling as he shoots a thick load into the already saturated lace lining your hand. The release of each gush of his seed feels more euphoric than the last and he's whining pathetically, up until he's fucked himself empty into your fist.

"Good boy." You whisper, kissing his damp forehead while he catches his breath. "I'm so proud of you."

You unfold the lace, admiring just how much of his cum he's managed to splatter over just your underwear. "Now. I want you to put these on and wait in the bedroom."

[camels-pen]

@sanusoweek Day 6 - Gods and Demons

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 5

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Quick question

Soooo, how would you guys feel about art being added to prompts from time to time?

Been messing around with pixel art, which has turned out to be surprisingly freeing compared to other styles I've tried. The simplicity of it has just been so relaxing. And its been giving me ideas for stories >:)

ALSO, I just want an excuse to show the art off lmao.