I just thought of something cute.
Also, friendly reminder that although this is a sfw drabble, my blog is 18+, Minors and Ageless blogs dni
.・。.・゜✭・🦷・✫・゜・。.
Y'know how Ghost pulls out some jokes here and there and is generally good at quips?
Imagine that the boys are out, just having a little get together at a bar after a successful mission and Simon pulls out one of his shit jokes.
You happen to sit nearby, your friend in the bathroom so you have nothing to do other than drink and listen to the environment around you.
"What's the difference between an oysterman and a prostitute with diarrhea?"
...
What?
Slowly, you set down your drink and listen carefully as a deeper, gruff voice behind you starts off a bit.
The Scotsman of the group groans audibly, "Steaming Jesus... What?"
"One shucks between fits, and the other fucks between shits."
Immediately, your forehead hits the counter as a fit of giggles bubble up and spill from your lips, uncontrollable, especially with how the joke, so fucking stupid, keeps replaying in your head. Your laughter is highly contagious as it seems, as the group of men behind you begin chuckling along.
"LT, ah think they liked yer joke."
Through little giggles, calming down from that little fit of yours, you throw a peek over your shoulder, catching onto the darkest yet equally shining pair of eyes, crinkling with a small grin as the large blond regards you with amusement and intrigue.
.・。.・゜✭・🦷・✫・゜・。.
Reblogs are highly appreciated :)
This was made for my art buddy's birthday ~ I hope she enjoys it hehe
You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”
Well I see that, and I raise you this:
An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.
And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.
He’s crushed by the competition every single time.
Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker.
There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.
And he wins.
Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something.
The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.
So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.
He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”
"We low-hardness Gems have nothing if not our courage." — Antarcticite, Houseki no Kuni
MASTERLIST
Come Back to Bed with Me
Hours in the Kitchen are Spent Warmer with You
Pickled Plums
Let's Go Fishing!
Parts of a Whole
Year’s End Brings New Beginnings
Know It Like the Back of Your Hand
A Promise Made, A Person Met
Sanctity of Sacred Spaces (one shot series, Heart Pirates & Reader)
And Tonight, We’ll Be Warm (Whitebeard pirates x reader, Ace-centric)
You Don't Need to Try to Belong (Marco x Reader, hurt/comfort)
My contribution to the silly thing going around twitter right now lmao
Me and @bibicalico were talking about Kusuriuri and Ginko the other day and how they'd have so many interesting stories and trinkets to tell each other, so I made this crossover drawing :3
Big thank you for the concept inspiration, pal! ✨
My dream as a writer isn’t to get published and make a lot of money, it’s to have a fanbase devoted enough that I can post a story about a background character that had four lines or drop a piece of obscure lore and they go crazy over it
Wing/Silver | 19 | she/they | I write and reblog fics || Reader-insert centric |Interacts from @elise-wing
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