Me When I Have 20 Fing Drafts 💔

if i follow u 

and u  follow me

we are friend

one of the cool things about reading people’s fics is you can somewhat tell if someone has been writing for a very long time and has many, many years of practice and experience under their belt or if someone is off to a good start. and don’t get me wrong, being a newbie doesn’t mean you’re any less of a writer, being a newbie doesn’t mean you won’t be as good as those who’ve been writing for decades. because yeah writing is art and as long as you keep on writing, you’ll only keep getting better. and it’s so beautiful to watch people master their crafts.

we all start at level one and then we all grow at our own time and terms, and we all grow into something beautiful ♡

hi there ! i saw ur requests open so i would like to req an usopp x reader fic ! (there's should be more methinks methinks)

the scenario i have in mind is Usopp drawing reader,, artist x muse trope is my favorite <3 (established relationship please thxx!! <3)

This is absolutely adorable, and I agree. Usopp needs more love and fics—also I am SO very sorry it took me this long. I had a few other Ace fics I was working on, and I have like 17 drafts 💔

But here you go! I hope you enjoy 💪

Talent |Master-List|

One of my least favorite One Piece Debates is which Strawhat is the most useless. Like whenever I hear people argue about how useless Usopp or Brook is I want to throw myself into a wall.

Because one, Luffy wouldn't like you. If you went up to him and started power scaling his friends he would hate you. And two, this argument only works if you watched the show with your eyes closed. The only character who joined Luffy's crew because of their strength was arguably Zoro, but even then that's a stretch. Luffy wanted these people to join his crew because he cares about them and they are is friends. Sanji is a great example of this, he's very strong yes, but Luffy wanted him to join because he wanted a cook and because he cared about Sanji and understood that he wanted to explore the world with him.

I haven't read anything about Elbaf, but I couldn't care less if Usopp gets a power to make him "stronger" and "less a coward" because I like Usopp regardless. I understand that despite his fear he pushes forward for his friends. He isn't "useless" because none of the Strawhats are useless.

It's just so annoying.

law again but this time i use my drawing tablet instead of my mouse

Yasopp I hope your son puts one between your fucking eyes

Death Of Pizzaz |Master-list|

Trafalgar Law x !Fem!Reader, fluffy, spicy, first kiss, yearning Law cause why not, make-out, he's a tease fr, you test his patience, bickering

You have some sharpies to your 'arsenal' and your dear captain is your victim...

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It was creeping into a late evening on the Polar Tang. The crew had tiredly retreated to their rooms after night watch had taken over in navigation. You quietly walked through the halls to your captain's room, surrounded in a dark hue from the seal covered windows and the dark sea. Small circular lights lit up your path, following from the floor to the stairs, overcasting a soft white glow throughout the sub.

You hopped down the final step, gently knocking on Law's door as you couldn't be bored any longer. You had spent an hour trying to fall asleep, but ultimately you gave in and craved the presence of your lover. A muffled "Come in," sounded through the door and you casually strolled in, stuffing your hands in your pockets. An unmistakable clink of sharpies hit against your hands, and you tightened your grip hopefully muffling them.

A little decor couldn't hurt, could it?

Your captain was the unsuspecting victim, as he hadn't taken his attention off the comic he was reading, something he'd have tossed and hidden if it wasn't for your familial gaze. You'd picked up on his nerdy tendencies a long time ago, and Law eventually excepted his fate, giving it up to share with you. His hair was unkept and messy, something you’d come to love along with his flimsy tank, praising the view it gave you.

“What are you doing?” Law asked, reclining silently against the couch. His infamous hat, and sword had rested close by, propped against his desk.

“What I can’t have quality time?” you smiled, feigning absolute innocence as you'd crawled into his lap, soaking up his touch. You always loved these relaxed moments. As it wasn't often he let go, more-overly stressed and constantly planning for the future, he was barely at ease.

But with you in his arms he could make an exception.

He let out a hum in response. "Depends what your after," he mumbled, adjusting himself under your weight, shifting back against the couch's armrest. Law brought his hand to soothingly rub over your shoulder, closing his eyes for needed peace.

You quietly watched as he closed his comic in hand, unknowingly knowing he was listening to your heartbeat, which thudded softly against his upper thigh.

You didn't know it, but your captain tended to listen to your pulse for a sense of comfort, remembering you were there with him: that you were real. That it wasn't some dream, and that he wasn't in some nightmare where you weren't.

He adored when you were like this, needfully resting by his side away from prying eyes—though he'd never admit it. Law would let his guard down with you, settling still in your innocent embrace. He opened his eyes to watch you shift, taking in the way your head gently rested against his hip.

He thought it was a heartfelt gesture really, but when you grabbed his arm and pulled it to your chest he thought otherwise. A soft click emitted, and a cold swipe crossed his skin, leaving him confused.

"What the hell are you doing?" he muttered, quickly pulling away your wrist.

"Nothing, just gimme your arm," you replied, trying to grab it again.

"Seriously? ____ I'm not you're coloring book, no."

"Oh don't be so stuck up, it'll wash off eventually," you stubbornly grabbed his arm again, tracing his tattoos as you ignored him completely. You were off in your own world now, leaving your captain to a very grumpy demise. You didn't pay attention to the way he'd grumble or keep to his lingering gaze.

A few minutes passed and you'd finally fucked up, scribbling over your design, "Okay, that's enough." Law cut sharp to your name, quickly grabbing the pen tossing it aside to his table.

"Really?" he deadpanned, taking in the scribbled pieces.

"What? It'll wash off."

"Yeah, in a few days, it's literally black sharpie you idiot," Law scolded, flicking your forehead with a scoff.

You let out your own huff, shifting in his arms to sit comfortably against him, leaning into his chest. Your head personally thunked against his shoulder, though you eased when his arms wrapped around you again. His lip quirked in amusement as your masked mumbles were only so long-lived.

He often was firm with you. But it could never stay that way. His irritated expression relaxed, and he called your name taking in his scribbled arm.

“You realize these are permanent tattoos, right?” He asked, swiping him thumb across your hip.

"Yeah, I just enhanced em' though." You said absentmindedly.

"I think you should get it re-tattooed like that."

. . .

Law snorted, manhandling you to face him, "I love your artwork and all but I think I'll post-pone that." he remarked, bringing his hands to your sides. You immediately faked a hurt look and he cracked. He couldn't look you straight in the eyes when they grew glossy like that.

“You're serious?" he muttered, swallowing unbelievably hard. You shattered his resolve, and he feared he might not be able to say no.

"You broke my heart Law, I put my soul into that." you said dramatically, seemingly putting an ease to his inner torment, but it only irked him. He flicked you again creating a red spot, and you quietly yelped—covering it.

He really thought you were serious, and he'd been a sucker enough to believe it.

"It just looks better," you retaliated, squirming in his arms as he'd reached a ticklish spot.

"Better? Really? You must've borrowed that soul from one of Bepo's maps then," he snarked, cracking a smile as he'd finally gotten a laugh out of you. He'd come to love that sound the more and more he knew you, every day and every moment he loved to hear it, to see it.

Your chaotic remarks and energy were his livelihood, and he'd at times been too dense to see it. It had taken years before there'd been an ounce of romance in your relationship, and that was after years of trustworthy hardships.

Law had finally backed you off his lap, putting an end to your 'assault,’ which only brought you to hide between his thighs with a muffled "Shut up!"

“Oi, don’t do that,” he stumbled, feeling a pit in his stomach. His arms quickly came up under your's, sliding you upright, which seemed to relieve the strange tension in his stomach. He'd been a fool to say it wasn't a common feeling.

It’d always been a strong feeling, specifically and only for you. And he'd usually been the one to try and ignore it.

He wasn't sexually inclined, as he said he didn't have time for it. It wasn't his main goal, and he didn't have time for that lust and desire—meaning it wasn't his strong suit. You'd been the flirty type in the past, but if he simply wasn't ready—he wasn't ready; and you had never held him to that.

“Don’t what?” you deadpanned, glaring softly.

“Don’t pout,” he sighed, brushing off his blush as he grabbed your chin, tilting your head back. Law couldn’t tell if you were being dense or doing it on purpose. Either way; it was infuriating.

“I’m not.”

"You are," Law interjected, taking in your form atop him. His mind wandered and he knew he was in trouble. Because he knew that no matter what he tried to ignore, he was always wrapped around your pretty little finger. Regardlessly…that's all you were, trouble.

You for once, seemed to quiet. Finally put at a loss for words. Your voice practically died in your throat and you couldn't help but question his intense gaze, you hadn't seen him look at you like that before.

Maybe once or twice but never like that. And it’d always pissed you off when he could put you in your place, before you could even begin to argue.

"I. am. not." you challenged, leaning closer—attempting to hold your ground. But it faltered when he drug his hand to your throat.

“Mm, yeah not anymore,” He whispered, overthrowing your little flirty act with a gentle squeeze your throat. He saw your face light up and he let out a whispery laugh. Law was enjoying himself.

On the other hand, you were internally panicking, opting to lean back, because Law had never been this forward with you. He'd been dense about that kinda thing, but obviously this was not the freaking case.

You swallowed against his hand, leaning back, but his lips caught you before you could own up to it. You heard a groan leave his lips before it swallowed your own, leaving your head spinning. You leaned forward, shifting your hips, and it only encouraged him.

His free hand squeezed your hip, and the hand around your throat tightened, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was more like a handle for him to hold. Your breath shuddered, and you forced yourself to breathe through your nose.

He'd caught you off guard and you couldn't seem get a grip.

You finally parted to breathe and his own blush matched your own. He gave a whole lotta' talk and do behind his pose, but deep down he was just as flustered as you.

"Don't be a smart ass," you muttered, bringing his hand away, but it only tightened around your smaller hand.

“Then don’t stick your head where it doesn’t belong.”

. . .

"What?—I didn't--"

"What?" he asked impassively, keeping a firm hold. He shifted causally beneath you and you knew he was doing it on purpose...that sarcastic bastard.

"Don't what me you know what!" you snapped, trying to pull your hands away, but he held on. His smirk grew and your blush heightened.

"What? That you like my hand around your throat? I figured, I didn't know it'd shut you up though." he leaned forward, attempting to whisper in your ear.

"Trafalgar Law!"

SILLY GIRL

synopsis: after injuring yourself in the abdomen while attempting to clean zoro's katanas, you try to conceal the horrifying slash that you have caused.

contains: fem! reader, blood, pure fluff, teasing.

author's note: y'all, should i start writing for squid game characters?? i fear i can't go a day without watching edits of lee byung hun & lee jung jae 🚶

a horrendous, lengthy slash decorates your lower abdomen, crimson red liquid continuously seeping out from the thin scar. "s-shit.." anxiety takes over you as you gaze down at the bloody mess before your eyes. the tiramisu of tissue that is being clutched tightly over the stinging scar is coated in blood, making it difficult for you to even try and cover it up.

this is what had led you to the consequences.

the mint-haired man let out a soft huff as he examined the cut. It was a deep gash, and it definitely hadn't been treated properly. gently running his fingers around the edges of the wound, doing his best to handle it delicately. "you should have come to me or chopper sooner, silly girl. you could have made it worse if it got infected."

he sighed as he felt your death grip on his arm. it was like you're afraid that he's mad at you for laying a hand on his swords. "i'm sorry.." you mumble remorsefully.

he could feel you tense up at his touch, but he did his best to be as gentle as possible. you can't help but squirm under your boyfriend's firm, yet gentle hold as your small hands bunched up the white bed sheets from the intense ache. "z-..zoro.." the man ignores the whine that had just slipped out of your lips. when he holds down the piece of material ever so slightly, the tears that has been threatening to spill out for the past few minutes are now rolling down your cheeks non-stop.

he didn't like you putting your health at risk.

you could feel zoro's hand reaching under your shirt to gently rub your back in circular motions with the pad of his thumb to soothe you.

he paused in his treatment when he notices your body go limp against him, your breathing becoming more steady now.

he patted your head softly before running his fingers through your hair, his hand large enough to almost cover your entire head. he shifted you on his lap, allowing you to rest comfortably against his broad chest, head tucked under his chin as he treats your wound.

people will see a fandom thing and be like "why isn't this a fanfic" "why is there no fanfic about this" my brother in christ, because you're not writing it

saw a woman comforting her sobbing child saying “i already told you, you have to keep looking forward, looking back just gets you hurt” and i thought she was sharing a beautiful life lesson about the importance of letting go of regret and resentment. but it turns out the kid just wasn’t looking where he was going and ran into a wall