#Ask ino

[ask-inopig]

hey Ino did you miss me? I got some exiting news my nephew Ryan is finally a father to his girlfriend's son how cool is that and it makes me a great uncle and my mother a great grandmother as well so what do you think?

That's great! Just a bit confusing lol. Hope you are doing well :)

[yuutaguro]

some ino and yuuji bonding time 🥕 (donation request)

[yuudamari]

believe it

[inoreuct]

would you agree that we all need more Sanji getting nosebleeds over Zoro in this fandom?

YES *pelting down a hill waving the proposal for this in my hand like a madman* YESSSSSS

the first time sanji gets a nosebleed over zoro is his clue-in that oh. i’m not straight, am i. the swordsman’s doing a bench press (shirtless, as always) as sanji walks by (and sanji sneaks a look, as always, because who wouldn’t?) and when he glances over the plates he has to do a double take because what the fuck. zoro’s pressing more than twice his body weight. zoro’s repping more than twice his body weight. he’s just registered that maybe he’s stared for a bit too long when he feels something warm and wet on his upper lip, iron dripping over his mouth, and he books it for the galley.

he slams the door shut and presses his back against it before he slides to the ground and screams into his knees because what. the fuck. it’s not even that he’s getting hot and bothered over a guy; it’s just that the guy’s zoro. he’s not supposed to get nosebleeds over zoro.

but he does.

and it gets worse.

zoro walking around shirtless on deck? nosebleed. zoro re-tying the sails and just hanging on with his legs around the mast? nosebleed. zoro strutting out of the shower door, damp with steam and hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist? nosebleed. zoro tsking irritably and grabbing all of sanji’s food and packages from him to haul the whole lot over his shoulder? NOSEBLEED.

and not even that. he starts getting breathless around zoro and his chest hurts. he kicks zoro back while they’re sparring one day and the swordsman grins, feral and unrestrained and all challenge and teeth, and sanji’s heart spasms so hard that he actually wonders if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. he’s barely twenty, he isn’t ready to die— much less because of some stupid marimo. chiselled abs and a nice set of biceps are only worth so much of sanji’s dignity. he twists and smashes the sole of his shoe right into zoro’s pretty face.

still, it gets so, so bad that he’s elected to just. avoid zoro completely. he’s sneaking around corners and running across open expanses ducked low like some kind of goofy thief and he knows it’s so fucking stupid but he doesn’t. he doesn’t know if zoro likes— no. he doesn’t even think about it. there’s no way, and if he gives himself false hope he’ll just break his own heart. he doesn’t know if zoro likes men, or anyone, much less him; nobody in their right mind would, not really. he's nice to have but not to keep and he's come to terms with it.

…until zoro corners him in the galley and demands to know what the fuck’s going on.

sanji stays facing away, slowly washing the dishes even as his heart pounds so hard it hurts. he is painfully aware of the way zoro’s seething like an over-boiled kettle in one of the chairs behind him, arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest and stock-still because he never, ever shakes his leg even though sanji knows he wants to.

his sponge squeaks across ceramic. the water’s warm against his fingertips, and his eyes flick up to meet his own reflection in the porthole window; he looks… well, he doesn’t know. scared, maybe. nervous. his mouth is thin, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a shudder running its fingers down his spine even as his heartbeat thumps between his ribs and god, fuck, it aches. and he knows. he looks himself in the eyes and he knows that somewhere along the line nosebleeds had turned into falling in love and he was the stupid idiot who had just let it happen because he was too weak to pry zoro out of his thoughts.

his gaze flicks down sharply when he hears the sudden scrape of the chair, and zoro spits, “look, i can’t fix whatever i did wrong if you don’t tell me what it is.”

sanji’s heart throbs. “what?”

he can hear zoro’s scowl. “what, what? i obviously did something. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

the cook almost laughs. he bites it down and swallows his words, salty-sweet at the back of his throat. guilt nips at him; zoro’s his rival and and his personal annoyance and a blockhead but he might also, maybe, just maybe, be sanji’s best friend. and sanji hasn’t been very fair to him lately.

he swallows again, clears his throat silently. “you didn’t do anything, marimo,” he murmurs to the plate in his hands, trying for airy and getting more somewhat vaguely strangled. he coughs. “just forget about it. sorry i’ve been weird.”

sanji will deal. he will, somehow; he’d been careless and careless is dangerous and for perhaps the first time in his life, he has too much to lose. he’ll squash his heart into a box and lock it down tight like he always has and it’ll hurt, but when does it ever not? he mentally declares the matter done and dusted as he shakes off the plate and gently sets it on the drying rack.

his lungs hitch as a callused hand cups his elbow.

zoro pulls him around. he’s too weak to resist. the edge of the sink digs into his hip as stormy grey eyes scan his face and zoro looks tense, his jaw set in the way it only is when he faces off with a particularly vexing foe.

“did i not look happy enough at dinner?" he asks, and it could be mockery but it isn't, not with that edge to his voice; not desperation, but damn near. like filter paper burning its way to ash. "was it my clothes on the floor? my boots on the bed? what?”

sanji can't stand it anymore. he looks away, tries to twist out of the invisible bonds zoro has him trapped in, but fingers looped around his wrist are all it takes to make him stay and fuck, fuck, he's so fucked.

"sanji, what did i do?” zoro breathes, brow furrowed, voice too near and too damn earnest, and sanji's throat bobs as he digs the heel of his palm into his eye.

this isn't how it's supposed to go. zoro isn't supposed to care. zoro isn't supposed to be standing here in the galley saying his name in that tone of voice. a hand carefully pulls his own away from his face, and zoro doesn't fucking let go, and sanji feels too much like he's been stripped down to the bone.

"i know," zoro continues, gruff like he doesn't know how to be anything else, "that i upset you. so would you please tell me what i did so i can fix it?" he bends lower still, ducking to try and catch sanji’s line of sight but sanji just can't look at him. "i'll fix it, i—"

"you can't fix this." the words are out and in the air before he can stop them, and a bittersweet smile curves his mouth. "there's nothing to fix, so you can't fix it. just let it go, alright?"

zoro wants to argue. sanji can tell. but the swordsman lets out a measured exhale after a long moment and pulls back, face carefully neutral. "at least tell me what's going on, cook."

sanji looks down at his feet. "...i can't."

"like hell you can't," zoro replies immediately, and it's such an abrupt reminder of their normal banter that it wrenches a rough noise from sanji's chest. "i was the one who held your hair back after you had, like, seven margaritas too many. don't think you could tell me anything worse than the experience of trying to stop you from falling into your own puke."

"oh, jesus fuck," sanji swears on instinct, then laughs. it's unfortunately hollow. "that was one time, asshole."

"one time too many," zoro hums, raising an eyebrow. "so you gonna tell me what's going on, or do i have to make it a captain's order?"

sanji grits his teeth.

"i will drag luffy in here, i don't care—"

"fucking—" he holds his breath, flipping around to white-knuckle the edge of the sink and letting it out slow. "fine. you ever loved someone, marimo?"

"sure." zoro shrugs easily, crossing his arms as he looks out the window. "kuina, but i think i learned to love her memory more than anything else. luffy, nami—" a near-unnoticeable flutter of thick lashes. "you."

sanji exhales through his nose as he rocks back on his heels. squeezes out air till it hurts. "you know that's not what i meant."

"what did you mean, then?"

he turns to look at where zoro has settled lazily against the counter, the moon turning his eyes to silver. "I mean the kind of love that makes your blood race. that makes you want more even when you know you'll never take more than you're allowed. the kind that makes your heart hurt so badly you feel empty without it."

the swordsman's face is unreadable as he tilts his head slowly. "i did say i love you."

it hits sanji like a bullet. he sucks in a sharp breath, and his throat burns as he turns away and tries to stop his shoulders from heaving up. "don't fuck with me, zoro. not about this."

it feels rather like a cruel cosmic joke. he's so near yet so far, just one step away with a gauzy curtain between but he can't touch it. he won't. he's got too many things on the line and yet he can't even name one of them.

"hey."

he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of salt that shouldn't even be there, and look at that. little sanji's gone and broken his own heart again.

"hey," zoro tries again, more insistent, one hand hovering in the space between them and sanji feels the pull of it like a magnet.

he doesn't turn away as it cups his cheek. doesn't run as fingers slide through the short hairs at his nape, a thumb behind his jaw. his lashes are damp. it is everything he wants and everything he cannot have and he can't—

"look at me."

"i can't," he breathes, lungs rising fast and shallow. he's afraid to open his eyes. he's afraid of what he'll see.

"yes, you can." zoro shifts closer and another hand joins the first. it's big and rough and warm and he holds sanji's face like he's the moon herself. "look at me, curly."

he can't.

he does.

zoro's gaze is almost painful to meet straight-on with how intense it is. he seems to realise, face softening as he leans closer, closer, posture loose enough that it would be no problem for sanji to shove him away. "you love me," he breathes. "yes or no?"

sanji's heart stops. his tongue is clumsy in his mouth, his brain a mess of yesnoyesyesnoiwon'tican’tido—

"don't think." zoro's voice cuts through the haze as he shakes his head slowly; a sword through smoke, silver-bright, singing in the air and leaving silence. "don't think. you love me, yes or no."

the galley swims around sanji as his vision blurs. he feels his tears spill hot down his cheek, knows the way zoro aches to brush them away and yet stays still. he opens his mouth and it feels like stepping out of the only shelter he's ever known; he is an open fucking wound and he's raw and everything hurts, everything but zoro. zoro. zoro. "yes."

just one word, three simple letters, and still it feels like damnation; if he'd never said it he could deny it but now it's real. the swordsman relaxes, shoulders dropping enough that his forehead brushes sanji's, and sanji tracks the way his throat bobs. the way steel-grey eyes flicker over his face, molten in the light of the electric lamps and the moonlight spilling through the window, gilding zoro like something out of a dream. a fairytale sanji read as a child until the edges of the pages fitted familiar to his thumbs as his little hands reached for a happy ending that was never meant to be his.

he shakes, now, as zoro reaches up to run tentative fingers through straw-pale hair. "let me love you. yes or no."

"i—" the sound that twists from his mouth is cracked jagged down the middle, unpolished as a common pebble picked up off the damn street. "you don't—"

"yes or no."

"i'm not what you want," he gasps, his face wet.

"yes or no."

sanji wants to break apart. because zoro sounds like he's begging, and he cannot fathom anybody possibly wanting him that much. he wants to scream and cry and claw at the walls until his nails break. he wants to shatter into pieces all over the floor without having to worry about putting himself back together. he wants. he wants, and zoro's looking at him with the closest thing to reverence he's seen in his life, and even that isn't enough for him to believe it. "i'm not what you want."

he can barely look at zoro. he can barely look at himself. the shame is clawing a pit into his stomach, and he lets it, feels every inch of it, because what kind of person doesn't know how to be loved? his breath catches wetly as zoro cups his jaw in both hands, tilting his face up, and once again sanji is too weak to pull away.

"you are everything i want."

the words are so fierce, so sure, and sanji is cracking apart at the seams. the stitches pulled tight by his own hand are unravelling and he can't stop it—

"yes or no."

zoro's breath ghosts warm across his mouth, fingertips in his hair, just far away enough for sanji to see the way his eyes are blazing and yet he waits. his thumb on sanji's cheek is the gentlest thing sanji has ever known.

"you'll get tired of me," he tries weakly, one last time for good measure, and zoro just shakes his head. the resolve in his expression does not waver even once.

sanji breaks.

"yes." the word scrapes itself out of his throat seconds before arms are going around him, and he sobs. lets the swordsman bring them both to the kitchen floor as he curls up in zoro's lap, fingers clawing into his white shirt, numb with how hard he cries because nobody, nobody has ever stayed. not without him getting hurt in the process. he pushes them away when he gets scared and they let him and then it becomes his fault when it all blows up in his face, but zoro's not leaving, and it's so foreign to him that he's shaking so badly and he can't stop.

a warm, heavy palm smooths over his spine and he lets himself be shifted closer, settles sideways as zoro wraps an arm over his shins and rocks them until his breathing evens out. the embarrassment hits like a gut punch; he knows he looks like a mess, face blotchy and hair everywhere and eyes puffy as hell, but zoro cards his bangs out of his eyes and looks at him like he doesn't care, and sanji turns away.

he feels... fragile. like he's made of tinted glass and spun sugar, like he'll cave in at the slightest touch. there is something melting in his chest and it drips down over his ribs; pools fresh as a river in spring, offset by the grounding presence of zoro's hands on his skin. "don't say i didn't warn you," he mumbles, masking his very real fear behind a layer of watery bravado as he hides his face in zoro's shoulder, and of course, of course zoro sees right through him.

the swordsman's thumb traces the swirl of his eyebrow before zoro rests his chin on top of sanji's head. "i don’t listen. you know that."

you know me, is what goes unsaid, and sanji doesn't deign to reply. he buries his face into zoro's chest and breathes in the smell of steel and sword oil and— he sits up slightly, eyes narrowing. "you've been stealing my deodorant, yes or no." the way zoro stills momentarily is a dead giveaway, and he yelps when the swordsman flicks his forehead.

"would you rather i be stinky?" zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes gently as sanji settles back down with a huff.

"you still are stinky. if we're gonna be together i'm expecting you to shower at least once every two days—" zoro groans, and he powers through, raising his voice, "—and if you aren't fussy i'll let you shower with me."

the way zoro instantly stops complaining cracks a laugh out of him. it's weak and watered-down, but it's a start. zoro's hands slide back into his hair and he hums as he lets his eyes fall shut.

the moon's full tonight. their ship rocks gently, and sanji gets comfortable; zoro's warm and solid and happens to make a perfectly respectable pillow. the thought that he can have this now sends a thrill through him.

he's not a fool. he's not optimistic when it comes to this. when it comes to love.

but with zoro's thumb rubbing mindless circles against the side of his thigh and a kiss pressed to the top of his head, he's got a pretty good feeling about this time around.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

evan and regulus frolicking like they're frotting in bed making out sloppy style about to fuck to the sounds of their boyfriends fighting outside

jfkdkfkdkf STOOPPP (this escalated, NSFW)

Regulus comes back into the living room, mug of steaming tea in hand and he rolls his eyes as soon as he, too, hears James and Barty where they're still out on the balcony arguing, cigarettes long stubbed out in the ashtray.

Evan grins, lifting the blanket as Regulus lets himself plop down and snuggles into his side.

“What’s it about this time?”

Evan snorts, nuzzling the black curls behind Regulus’ ear, “You think I know?”

Regulus shakes his head, like a disappointed old grandpa and Evan’s grin widens.

Outside, Barty makes an incredulous noise, half rising from his chair before he sits back down, trying to talk over James’ continuous arguing.

Regulus makes a soft groan in irritation, tipping his head back against Evan's shoulder. There’s a triangle of moles right under the hinge of his sharp jaw, teasing Evan to put his mouth to good use.

“It’s never nothing with the two of them,” Evan murmurs, warm breath ricocheting off Regulus’ skin and back at him.

It makes Regulus tilt his head back down, eyes narrowing and searching for something in Evan’s expression. He hums a little, sinking lower into the cushions and Evan’s embrace.

“Think we should keep ourselves busy, don’t you?” Evan says, catching Regulus’ eyes skipping down to his lips, “Who knows how long they'll be at it this time.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything but he tips his chin up and he lets Evan hook one of his legs over his lap without fuss. Evan watches the line of his throat move when he swallows, “You smell like lemons.”

“And limes,” Evan corrects with a grin. “You're off your game, whiskers. Something distracting you?”

Regulus’ slack expression slips into a glower and Evan chuckles, bumping their noses together. “I spooned some of Barty’s protein yogurt after dinner when he wasn’t looking, too busy nagging at James while they were doing the dishes.”

Regulus snakes a hand under Evan’s t-shirt, caressing the skin, “’s it taste anything good?"

The tiny devil on Evan’s shoulder does a little happy spin, “Why doesn’t the chef try for himself?”

Evan happily swallows the little pant betraying Regulus’ indifference before their lips connect.

He doesn't even have to goad him, their tongues nudging immediately as Regulus eagerly parts his mouth.

It's a wet slide of lips and Regulus’ short nails digging a little desperately into the side of Evan’s ribs when he sucks Regulus’ lower lips between his teeth.

James lets out a loud string of spanish curses outside, slamming a fist into what must be the metal of their balcony railing and Regulus sucks in a breath against Evan’s cheek and oh, is Evan having fun on this beautiful Friday night.

More kissing, hands grabbing and shucking away clothes and when Evan tugs Regulus closer by the hip he makes an entirely too sweet needy noise that goes straight to Evan’s cock.

They keep licking into each others’ mouths, Barty’s and James’ aggravated voices a quiet muffle in the background, and Regulus keeps making these little noises, squirming in place and adjusting his hold on Evan again and again, fingers clenching and unclenching and Evan can’t help himself but grin into the kiss.

It disrupts their rhythm and Regulus makes a complaining grunt that tells Evan he’d roll his eyes right now if he wasn’t currently busy eating Evan’s face off.

He’s so cute Evan wants to take a fucking bite out of him.

Or maybe finger him until he squirts all over the couch.

Evan gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek and then works his way down his neck and Regulus is restless, shifting around and then his fucking knee slides over where Evan is rock hard and he stutters out a truely embarrassing groan for it being a fucking knee.

But Regulus is an angel because he moans in response and slides his fingers into Evan’s bleached curls like it’s second nature whenever he needs something to hold onto.

“Evan,” Regulus speaks up, voice husky and eyes a little glassy when Evan lifts his head to look.

“Reg?” Evan says sweetly, cocking his head, before he goes back to the mark he was about to suck into the pale expanse of his throat.

“I’m– mgh,” Regulus swallows, out of breath, “Can you—”

Evan’s lips twitch into another smile, “Huh? Pardon, I can’t hear you, bébé.”

Regulus huffs but he makes another obscene noise when Evan trails his fingers up the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to where Evan already knows he wants him.

Another of his complaining noises—Evan lets out a snicker against the soft skin and gets a shiver in response—and then, “Want your fingers.”

“Want my fingers, love?” A gentle bite into the tendons of his neck.

Regulus arches, nodding against the cushions, “Please.”

And who is Evan to deny a polite plea as sweet as that of his lover?

Regulus’ sweats, that are actually Barty’s, get discarded. He isn’t even wearing any boxers, nom de dieu, and then Evan is slipping the tip of his middle finger through where Regulus is sinfully slick.

He throws his head back with a moan that Evan feels reverberating down his spine and then Regulus is looking at him with big, silver eyes. Wide and needy and dark brows furrowed and, fuck, so fucking wet for him Evan simply slips in two fingers at once.

And maybe he shouldn’t have. Honestly, should have taken it easy—Usually he’s the last out of the four of them to lose his patience but with Regulus looking at him like that?

Evan presses their lips together, heated and rough, and Regulus welcomes him happily. Makes a high-pitched noise when Evan curls his fingers before starting a slow pace of pumping in and out, thumb drawing slow, teasing circles around his cock.

Suddenly there’s a sharp noise from outside, one of their garden chairs scraping against the tiles of the balcony and then the door flings open.

“—the fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

“If I’m gonna have to listen to your fucking bullshit only one more second I’ll start to get violent, B. Reg is still pissed we didn’t get the blood stains out of the—”

“Fuckin’ pussy. I told you to– oompf,” the sound of someone walking into another body, “James?”

“Shut up.”

“You- fuck you. I’ll—”

“B, look.”

“—fucking destroy you, P- oh.”

Evan peeks over the back of the sofa to see James and Barty standing dumbly in the middle of their living room, expressions slack and balcony door wide open behind them. He crooks his fingers again and Regulus whines brokenly, throwing his head back, mouth parting in a perfect little o and Evan watches James eyes bulge behind his glasses and Barty’s tongue lolling out.

Can’t help himself when he grins menacingly, tilting his head and thumbing over Regulus’ cock again, making the man beside him arch.

“I- you seeing this, Crouch?”

“You fucking bet I am, Jamie.”

“Since when have they- How long were we out there?”

“Dunno but I do know I’m not missing another second of this. Budge up, Rosier. You’re going to get your dick sucked so good.”

“Fine with me as long as you do it ass up,” James murmurs lowly, “Gonna fuck that wrong opinion right out of you.”

Barty scoffs a laugh, “You wish.”

“Then dibs on Regulus riding me.”

“You—”

Evan shakes his head and chases the delectable noise slipping out of Regulus when he slips in a third finger.

[yandere-daydreams]

Wait so geto is what kind of hot then?

i'm still working out the kinks but here's the rough draft. hoping this answers all future questions about everyone's placement.

[seaquestions]

hey i just realised i never posted the character designs i made for the naruto roleswap au i was thinking abt like, last year? earlier this year? so here they are lmao

[erumai-maadu]

more Konoha 12 headcanons bleaker

i’m gonna assume that last word is a typo???? unsure. BUT HAVE MORE HEADCANONS!!!!

team 7 and team gai are always together and team 10 and team 8 are always together. such is the consequence of your jounin senseis dating

tenten’s Eternal RivalTM is temari but she’s never actually admitted it out loud. shikamaru is so scared that tenten is going to steal his girlfriend through the power of youth and sweaty challenges

lee and sasuke are both insane about training and randomly challenge each other to taijutsu battles. as well as lee and naruto get along, him and sasuke have a similar intensity and focus level when it comes to training and lee prefers to train with sasuke when he can’t train with any of his team or with sakura

speaking of team 7 and taijutsu, sakura trains with team gai all of the time, especially with lee. their sparring has gotten so out of hand that tsunade had a special training ground made for them out in the mountains so they’d stop breaking the communal training grounds and pissing off all the chunin and jounin.

shikamaru and neji play shogi together all the time. neji has only beaten shikamaru a few times, always when he’s distracted thinking about something else

ino, shino, and tenten are the snoops/detectives and somehow know everything about everyone all the time

slugs aren’t bugs but shino still goes wild over sakura’s slug summon. deeply upset about naruto’s toad summons though

choji and lee have spicy curry eating contests all the time and are basically keeping the curry of life shop open with their patronage alone

kiba, naruto, and tenten are the agents of chaos of the group and their victim is somehow always neji

hinata hangs out a lot with team gai because of neji and is really close with lee and tenten. lee is one of the people who helps bring hinata out of her shell and become more confident in herself

shino insists on addressing all of team gai with ‘senpai’ until they finally get him to stop after they all get promoted in the second chunin exams.

lee cries whenever someone calls him senpai

the girls all hang out together regularly and have sleepovers at each others’ places all the time. the guys see the girls making plans to hang out and THEN decide they should plan something too

neji isnt allowed to play card games because everyone thinks he’ll use his byakugan to cheat. hinata is allowed to play but nobody ever notices that she keeps using her byakugan. kiba has lost so much money betting against her

sasuke nearly gets banned a few times for trying to use his sharingan but he gets clowned on for it because it’s so noticeable and he gives up after that

sakura loves using her strength to carry people around. she’ll just pick up her friends and start walking around, especially if she’s drunk

speaking of getting drunk, sakura tenten and choji have insane alcohol tolerances and because of that they’re usually the one paying for drinks when the k12 go out. sakura is the one to beat in drinking contests and the only one who has is tsunade

[rosinkar]

Ino takuma pls ? <3

here your Ino 🤲 I hope you'll see him anon !

[hellcifrogs]

Iruka disapproves the use of foul language, but Naruto already taught Kiba and Kankuro, and they won't stop saying it

None of you have learned these from me!

[ask-inopig]

It's my 7 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Wow, I can't believe this blog is 7 years old! Love you guys, thanks for all the love and support over the years! 💕💕

[rottin6]

pornstar jeggy but one of them is tied eagle spread 2 the bed

i love love jegulus and the ropebunny kink cause james is just one of those guys who really got into scouts as a kid, got all his badges and passed every test. he learnt every way to tie a rope and make all sorts of knots. yeah he thought it was pointless but he was just convinced that when the world is gonna end, he'll be the one to survive. then enter regulus and james is on his sex shit and when regulus asks him to be tied up, james is so ready to pull out his badges cause he knows just how to do it

[kunshokunsho]

some dragon rising ocs :D

( based off of the 16 realms 16 oc challenge post i made !)

[inoreuct]

what if, and hear me out: sanji one day grabs zoro's hand so they could run together away from some bad guy and zoro develops a dreadfully deep seated longing to hold sanji's hand (when he's not cooking ofc). it drives him insane. he cant sleep. sanji's hand is so Soft. Why??? Why does he want to feel it again??? he wants to yell into the sunset

they're sprinting through the streets, skidding into random alleyways and falling over each other as they try to outrun whoever's chasing them and sanji's laughing, head thrown back and eyes blue as the damn sky, his hair in absolute disarray. he's beautiful and his hand is warm and slim and strong around zoro's and it hits zoro like a fucking bullet to the heart.

the memory haunts him like a particularly persistent ghost. he closes his eyes and all he can think about is sanji's fingers laced with his, lightly calloused, nails filed down to a perfect glossy sheen and skin butter-smooth from the hand cream that the cook is so adamant about using. his laugh rings in zoro's ears like the echo of a bell, merry, taunting— the swordsman is half-sure he’s losing his mind. he is one more restless night away from climbing to the top of the main mast and hollering until he scares seagulls up into the air.

as it turns out, he does not go seagull scaring. he carries on and keeps an iron grip on his self-control and acts like nothing’s wrong, because nothing’s wrong! it’s all fine! it’s all fine, who, him? peachy fuckin’ keen.

…yeah, right.

sanji’s fingertips brush his and he nearly drops the plate he’s just taken. the cook hip-checks him out of the way and he damn near chokes on a breath. they spar and he almost dies, not just because of everything, but also because sanji gets his thighs around zoro’s neck in a chokehold and zoro just gives up. throws in the proverbial towel. he doesn’t even try to get out of it.

strong, slender fingers drag him by the ear back to the men’s cabin to pick up your fucking clothes, marimo, what is this? a pigsty? because it looks like one and it smells like one, do you really expect me to— and sanji cuts himself off, because zoro’s. picking up his clothes. he looks so bewildered at the lack of protest that zoro almost laughs, and he hides it by bending down to snag a pair of pants peeking out from under his bunk. (he decidedly does not laugh, because it has suddenly hit him that he’d probably do just about anything sanji asked him to. he might complain, sure, but he’d do it—

and that is a terrifying thought to entertain.)

the days carry on, and it doesn’t get any better; hell, zoro would say it gets so much worse. his heart seems to recognise every touch of sanji’s skin as cause to go absolutely fucking bonkers; chopper literally asks him if he has a family history of arrhythmia. it’s that bad. he tries to go to sleep and imagines sanji, one bunk up, in his bunk instead, his fingers tangled in flaxen hair, his free hand laced with sanji’s. he eats dinner and gets hit with a pang of desire to help with the dishes so strong that he almost stabs himself in the face with his fork. there is something wrong with him, he thinks profoundly, a familiar sense of gloomy dread spreading in his sternum as he rests his chin in his hand, like an oil spill marbled through with potent fondness.

they’re forced to get their shit together in the end but only because luffy manages to get them locked in the galley while franky is “too occupied” to get them out. (he isn’t. he’s sunbathing on the damn deck and absolutely in on the plan.)

zoro’s barely breathing as he goes up to sanji, eyes wild, and as soon as the cook looks at him he smacks a big fat kiss on his mouth and yells OKAY BYE. he’s seriously considering jumping out the porthole window but someone snags his collar and yanks him back, pinning him in against the countertop.

“and where do you think you’re going?” sanji purrs, but it’s breathless. his eyes are sea-sky-sapphire blue, like the heart of a flame, and zoro is the stupid little moth that was too damn dumb to fly away when he could and now he’s in the thick of it and he’s burning up, smoke drifting like it does from the tip of sanji’s cigarette.

the edge of the counter digs into his back. “nowhere,” he breathes, and it’s a lie and too much of the truth all at once. anywhere away from here. nowhere away from you. nowhere i can’t find you. nowhere you can’t follow.

sanji sucks in a trembling breath, electric eyes searching for something in zoro’s face, and he must find it because the next moment zoro’s being kissed within an inch of his life and the only thought in his head is yes, yes, yes. finally. yes.

they walk out red-faced, hair mussed, clothes twisted, avoiding all eye contact and immediately darting off to opposite ends of the ship with mumbled excuses.

zoro’s mouth is kiss-bruised and his head is spinning. his hip aches where he’d banged into the edge of the table. his heart aches where he’s finally let go of the wound he’d been holding shut for ages because now it’s bleeding afresh and sanji hasn’t stitched it up yet.

(but that night, as he lays awake heavy-limbed and staring at the bottom of a bunk, long legs swing over the side. sanji drops down, angling himself to land on zoro with a soft oof.

they talk. it is easier, somehow, when they cannot see each other— but zoro knows those blue, blue eyes are on him. he feels them slip shut, lashes dragging against the pad of his thumb as he tilts sanji’s face for another kiss; softer, this time. gentle. a banked flame flickering in the hearth, warmth and not destruction.

they fit together like their hands do, puzzle-piece natural, and it feels like coming home. zoro hasn’t known home in a very, very long time.

he buries his face in silky, sweet-smelling hair and falls asleep with sanji’s pulse thrumming beneath his palm.

come morning, he wakes to find the sheets twisted around them, a dull ache blooming across his shin— sanji’s a kicker. being privy to this information delights him an unreasonable amount.

the cook stretches with a loud yawn, arms falling to rest around zoro’s neck as he rubs his socked feet together. “come make breakfast with me,” he mumbles, the words muffled against zoro’s shoulder—

and zoro finally lets himself laugh, lets it bubble out of him like champagne, a rumble in his chest. “sure, curly. five more minutes.”

he feels impossibly light. five minutes turn into ten, and ten into twenty. they both fall back asleep. their captain will have to settle breakfast himself for the day; their cook’s hands are, unfortunately, otherwise occupied.)

[just-null]

i have come here to personally thank you for giving me more than i asked for 🙏🏻 i am utterly grateful like IDJFKDKKFODOD 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ it made me so happy the last doodle has my heart he is so cute i will eat him

also there is a DROUGHT out there for us noritoshi fans like im living on CRUMBS its insane and omg dont even talk to me abt how it feels like to be a kashimo and ino lover (altho they are getting a bit more love now) my nori is still underrated :/ sooo hence im asking ur hand in friendship and in exchange i promise to share my hcs with you abt nori my sweet lil meow meow we're in this together 💪🏻💪🏻

also since its October, do you think he likes horror movies? i feel like he can withstand gory movies but its the jumpscares that get him and he wont tell u he's scared when u watch one with jumpscares owkfkdkd imagine him hiding his face against ur shoulder or something 😭😭😭 (i used to do that with my dad when we watched horror movies and i used to be like im not scared😤😤 when he asked if i was lmfao thats where this hc stemmed from)

N. NORITOSHI HIDING IN YOUR SHOULDER OR SUPPRESSING HIS REACTIONS TO THE JUMPSCARES....... WAS IT AN INVOLUNTARY REACTION TO USE YOU TO HIDE??????? WAS IT BUILT UP TRUST????? DID HE GROW USED TO HOLDING ONTO YOU WHEN HE GETS SURPRISED BECAUSE HE WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE HAS HIS VALUABLES SAFE????????? WAS IT A MOMENT WHERE HIS MIND JUST INSTINCTIVELY GRABBED THE FIRST THING HE WANTED TO PROTECT/BE PROTECTED BY???????? OH MY FUCK.

he's probably used to gore and gritty stuff like that since he sees it often being a jujutsu sorcerer and all. not to mention his technique is literally blood. maybe he's desensitized to gore films, the most you'll get from him is a disgusted scowl.

BUT DID YOU SEE HOW QUICK HIS EYE OPENED WHEN HANAMI SHOWED UP BEHIND HIM. YOURE SO FUCKING FR ABT JUMPSCARES. Noritoshi is that guy who wouldn't scream or yelp but gasp really loudly and jump out of his skin.

i feel like they get him most in horror because of the music building up anticipation. if its one of those fake outs where the jumpscare comes a bit after, he's fucked UP. It makes him instantly miffed, as he tries to regain his composure. He swears he's not usually like this, it got him by surprise is all..!

Noritoshi is the type that'd only watch a horror movie if the story is rich and complex. He's the type of guy to like open endings that make you think.. if it's a guilty pleasure movie where all the protags make stupid decisions, he gets annoyed right off the bat.

He's groaning and complaining about how imbecile the characters are, but would still watch it with you because you personally invited him. If he's lucky you could fall asleep on his shoulder or [insert movie cliche here] how could he pass that up? But Noritoshi wouldn't be able to focus on you if he gets twice as annoyed because its a bad movie + jumpscares. it still startles him, but the movie is so terrible, he's embarrassed it got him, especially in front of you!!!

if you get involved and you tell him to quiet down, Noritoshi would shift his focus towards you. like that awkward guy who thinks he's being smooth and lowkey about how he cuddles up next to you. He wants to be the tough guy who's shoulder you can hide in, and he is!! just not.. with jumpscares.......

[itsjaywalkers]

imagine reg not knowing how snapchat works and making an account just to follow and stalk james and he screenshots something not knowing james receives a notification

INO IM GIGGLING LIKE AN INSANE WOMAN YES !!! HE WOULD HE SO WOULD !!!! he'd think he's being so sneaky so subtle and that james is never going to know. he's just living his best life, drooling over this embarrassing but also insanely hot man, filling his secret album with screenshots and staring at them whenever he gets a chance

meanwhile u have james getting notification after notification from this one acc he doesn't recognise at first glance but when he goes to check and realises who the owner is . well . he might've just won the mf lottery

regulus getting a notification of james following him back and then getting a cheeky dm immediately after, something like "i already knew u liked what u see but i didn't know u liked it THIS much ;)" which results in reg throwing his phone to the other side of the room, a sense of dread filling him as he considers what new country he should move to