#undernote

[toonetowne]

Coming up with designs for the main cast In UnderNote having a lot of fun with Undyne

Also!!! I did say if Error won I’d draw whatever y’all wanted , my inbox is open if anyone’s interested:)

[undernote-au]

A passion project of who knows how long is finally coming into fruition I’m so excited,

What’s this au about ? Imagine Undertale the musical but I’ve sprinkled some ocs of my own into the story , Everything revolves around music in the underground, Will the Angel set them free? Or silence the underground for good? Stay tuned to find out !

((This is the offical blog for this au but to see my other art find me at @toonetowne almost everywhere!!! ))

[someprettyname]

Okay but guys. Hear me out. Gin gagamaru is probably the kind of guy who's the first one to get a girl in his group even though no one expects him to.

I mean look at him! He's a nice lil silly guy. His voice, his expression, his demeanour...Oh specially his demeanour!! It oozes out "respects women" fr. (or doesn't disrespect anyone without a reason in general) Why would someone not be interested in him? He doesn't seem like a guy who'd play games with you. (not game⚽ game. I mean game😏 game. Ygwim?) And not because he chooses not to, but because he's such a pure soul he doesn't know that concept. 😭✨

In short, he's a keeper. (well again, not keeper🥅 keeper but keeper🥰🤝🏻👫 keeper.)

You see? You see my vision visioning?

[otherbug]

what year is it where am i

[queer-ghosts]

just re-took that test. same results babyyyyyyyyyy!

love that for me

what does your blood taste like to a vampire

[corpsejelli]

Kimberly sweet peach perfume isn’t on fragrantica maybe I should just kill myself in response

[patchesjam]

okay I'm joining the food talk. I cannot cook to save my life and Indonesian food where I'm from some of them requires time and effort that I didn't have! I think we're famous for our fried rice and beef rendang which is all delicious of course but I'm used to buy nasi pecel in the morning because it's everywhere which is like basically rice with vegetables drenched in peanut sauce and toppings of you're choosing. I usually eat it with this spicy eggs and tofu it's really good. I love to eat soto which is like chicken soup I think but it's yellow (in some area it's clear but it tasted bland to me) and I don't really know how to describe it but I really like it! I like eating martabak too, one of the most delicious street food ever. I can gush about our foods but like I think this is some of my top favorites

i have literally never had indonesian food but now i really wanna try ive heard of that yellow soup thing tho it looks very nice and omg matabak is another pancake like thing (?) vaguely? its amazing how any different places have local iterations of the same vague food type

[comatosebunny09]

kismet [ teaser ] | sylus

— summary: “are you going to keep picking at my bed sheets until you’ve reduced them to mere threads?” sylus’ voice startles you, bringing you careening back to the present. the sheet slips from your fingers as you cower like a scolded child, bathed in the imposing aura he emits.  “you could say something. or we could just sit here listening to each other breathe for the rest of the night. take your pick.”

— cw: blood, injury, violence, minor character deaths, language, self-loathing, unrequited (requited) feelings, mdni

— now playing: i got u - austin farwell

Consciousness comes toddling in like newborn kittens. 

You anticipate the sound of birds chirping outside. Anticipate sunbeams kissing your eyelids and the crisp scent of your comforter. Instead, you’re ushered into wakefulness by insistent ticking. By a dull throbbing in your side and by something silken sliding down your bare stomach to pool around your hips. 

Uh-oh.

You jolt up. What a shitty idea that proves to be. White hot pain explodes in your side, anchoring you back down to the bed. Bed? Bed…when did you—

Your vision blurs and bends, adjusting in the low light. You make out discernible shapes and colors from your spot propped against a pillow. The aroma that greets you isn’t one associated with your home. But it’s familiar all the same. Inherently masculine with undernotes of bergamot, amber, and—

Ah, fuck.

Reality barrels in. You wince as you take in the sheets pooled around you. Their texture, their color. You’re surrounded by furniture that isn’t yours but is recognizable. And the ticking is familiar, too, coming from a clock nestled in the corner. 

This isn’t your bed. This isn’t your room. This is…this is…

The clearing of a throat interrupts your internal panicking. You shrink away from the source of the sound, but you soon learn to regret that. The ache from before returns, though not as severe. Still, it’s enough for you to grit your teeth with a hiss leaking through. 

“Sweetie,” warns a murky voice from your bedside—his bedside. You stiffen, the color draining from your face. “If you keep jostling about like that, you’ll reopen your wound.”

A peek in your periphery reveals what you fear—a wash of scarlet and white. 

You rigidly slide back down against his mattress, wishing it could swallow you whole. Wishing you could recede into your skin like a turtle. He’s barely said more than a sentence to you, yet you can sense his vexation as if he’s given you a whole PowerPoint presentation. 

You toy with some stitching in his sheets. Your heart thrums fiercely in your ears. The throbbing in your side can’t compare to that gnarling feeling in your gut. You don’t dare look at him. Don’t have to, irritation rolling off him in waves. He’s pissed if the set of his jaw in your periphery is any gauge. You would be, too, if you found yourself like that. 

You fucked up. And you don’t think any amount of groveling will fix this. 

—

It was a routine negotiation. 

Well, you had hoped it would be. 

You weren’t at all surprised when it went south; Niko was known for being a greedy bastard. Not only did he want the military-grade weapons you were selling in Sylus’s stead. But he also wanted to keep his pockets full. Figured he’d bump you off while absconding with the goods and money.

Naturally, Niko sicked his men on you. One by one, you took down hulking thugs, your instincts and Evol guiding you through the fray. It had been a minute since you got your hands dirty. You wanted to savor the moment, the purpling of your knuckles, and the thrill of a good fight. 

Caught up in the action, you hadn’t noticed one of Niko’s men charging you with a machete until it was too late. He sliced you good, breaking through skin before you could spin out of reach. You grit your teeth against the initial shock, but the adrenaline that spilled through you muted the pain. 

When the henchman drew back for another swing, you used his weight to your advantage, throwing him off-kilter. Maneuvering behind him to pull him into a chokehold, you used that same machete to tear through his carotid. He fell to the ground, his life spilling from him on the concrete. 

You took down the remainder of Niko’s men in a similar fashion, oblivious to how fucked you truly were. When the last of his henchmen hit the ground, you confronted the kingpin himself. Of course, he took off running in the wake of your ire. 

They always fucking ran. 

The bastard was surprisingly quick for an old man, leading you on a chase through the moonlit docks. All the action exacerbated your wound, its severity gradually announcing itself and slowing you down. You finally cornered Niko, dealing the killing blow. Left him propped against a safety bollard, split open and leaking red as a warning for anyone who dared to cross Sylus.

Reality set in as you hobbled back to your bike, the case of weapons and cash cumbersome in your hands. 

You were hurt. Bad. So much that you stumbled into a brick wall in an alleyway. It bit unforgivingly into your shoulder but was a cold, welcome reprieve against your feverish, sweat-slicked skin.

You clutched your side as a visceral pain tore through you. A glance down revealed your blood seeping through the gaps of your fingers, glistening condescendingly in the moonlight.

It was a jagged slice. Tore through skin and tissue, rubbed raw from your clothing. Untreated, it would fester and grow gangrenous, not to mention the blood loss. You didn’t trust yourself to make it to the hospital on your bike. Not when you were near tears, struggling to stay conscious. 

You turned a bitter laugh to the sky, though it was converted into a wheeze. This was what you deserved. What you got for being so complacent, driven to recklessness by your petty feelings. By your need to stay on top and prove your worthiness. 

Your breaths were shallow. Inhaling was laborious, amplifying the pain. You sank to your knees, fumbling your phone from your pocket. The screen was smeared with blood as you struggled to cue up a contact. Thankfully, the receiver clicked to life, a feminine voice lighting up the other end.

“Hey,” you breathed, your cell shakily held to your ear. “Need your help. Dropping a pin.”

You ignored the alarm in her voice at your cryptic words. Didn’t have time for questions, hanging up before marking your location and sharing it. 

Your phone clattered to the ground, the sound of it jarring amid distant cars moving about on the streets and dogs barking somewhere far off. You propped yourself up on the alleyway wall, sucking down as much air as you could. Tried to calm yourself, watching the clouds glaze over the moon overhead—anything to distract you. To nullify the pain.

The ache subsided the slightest bit. With some effort, you divested yourself of your blazer to pack it into your side. The texture gliding against your wound aggravated it. But you needed something temporary to staunch the bleeding until help arrived.

Exhaustion was pulling you under, darkened tendrils furling in your chest like smoke and clouding your eyes. You were about to give in to its inky embrace before headlights flooded your vision, chasing away the dreamlike smog. 

You looked up at the frantic clicking of shoes along the pavement. Chuckled something breathy at the fear sinking onto her face. You didn’t deserve her concern, but having someone fret over you felt nice.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” said Nadia, helping you stand with your arm slung over her shoulder.

Nadia was one of Lux’s bartenders. Could whip up a mean martini and was a faithful confidant. You sometimes called her when you were in a bind. As much of a fuck up you’d been lately, you trusted her never to go running her mouth to Sylus. 

She guided you to her car. You blinked away the bleariness, swallowing past the sand in your throat. 

“Not yet. Gotta…see the bossman first.”

The car door slammed behind you once Nadia eased you into the passenger seat. For a moment, you sat silently, forehead propped against the crisp window as you dripped blood on her tan seat. Shit. You’d clean it up. You promised. 

You watched Nadia round the car with your cases in tow before she slipped into the driver's side. The leather of the steering wheel squelched in her white-knuckled grip. She gave you a tight-lipped look. Wanted to argue, but there was no sense in trying to change your mind. You were stubborn to a fault.

Nodding, Nadia backed the car out of the alleyway and eased onto the street. She kept tabs on you throughout the drive, occasionally peering over to ensure you were still among the conscious. 

You promised you’d see the doc after you reported to Sylus. You just hoped to hold yourself together long enough to see him.

—

Lux’s iron-wrought gates panned into view.

As much as she burned to, Nadia vowed not to snitch, so long as you sought out a medic when you were done. You were thankful for that. She’d kept your injuries under wraps for so long. You didn’t think you could handle inconveniencing your boss with your stupid little wounds. He already had enough on his plate—enough people to occupy his mind. 

Your side still throbbed as Nadia snuck you in through the club’s back doors. She shepherded you into a dressing room, helping you disinfectant and wrap your injury before assisting you with your dress. It was a tight little number. Something to hold your bindings in place, dark enough to disguise any blood that managed to seep through. 

Reluctantly, Nadia left you to your own devices. You’d swept your hair into some semblance of neat in the mirror. Blotted sweat and grime from your face, patting your cheeks to bring back some color. 

You could do this. You’d suffered worse. Mustering up your last vestiges of strength, you stood, ignoring the sticky pull of the gauze against your laceration. You dragged yourself through Lux’s stilled halls, ending your journey at the heavy double doors leading to Sylus’ office. 

It was laborious, pushing them open. You’d sapped the last of energy doing so. Your vision doubled, a thatch of white dancing through the chaos. You barely made out the terror lining Sylus’ features. Barely heard the hurried click of his shoes over marbled floors and the fear hijacking his voice when you collapsed in the doorframe.  

You felt so very cold. But his hands were warm, squeezing your arms like that. He shook you lightly, the scarlet of his eyes glinting through your bleariness. His voice was muddled. He was saying something. Asking something. You couldn’t decipher what. You were tired. Just wanted to sleep. 

You felt pressure on your side. His hand. Heard him suck in a breath, your blood sticky on his palm. Dammit. You thought you’d done a decent job packing your wound. Whatever. You'd do better next time. 

The world fell away as he called your name. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. Tried to answer, but you were already gone, sinking below the depths as if weighed down by cinder blocks.

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize "What if" Drabble (Yan Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other chapters

This isn't a full chapter - I'm working on the next one now. I've just been Deep Deep into Shamrock brainrot and....well....you'll see. Thank you to @sordidmusings for giving me feedback and helping me finish this piece <3

~

You had wandered off from where the Red Haired Pirates were celebrating…well, you weren’t sure exactly what they were celebrating. They seemed to need little reason to drink so even though it was only the early evening there was a raging bonfire going with the crew drinking their way through several barrels of ale. Shanks was right there with them, drinking not only the ale but the hard liquor that he’d stolen from Benn’s cabin. You were sure he’d reach for you later in the night, but at the moment he was content to let you wander up the beach looking for shells and enjoy a moment of peace.

The island you were on was strange - there was a large manor far beyond the reaches of the short beach paths you saw - but other than that there were no settlements or people. The beach was winding and pebbled as you walked along the shore. You stopped occasionally and picked up particularly pretty stones or shells if you saw some, putting a few in your pocket to put in Shanks’s cabin on the shelf he’d designated for your trinkets.

You’d always liked the ocean, ever since you were a child. Old wive’s tales said that Omegas were children of the sea, a gift from the gods as an apology for the unbridled anger of the oceans. To you being an omega felt more like a curse, something designed to keep you weak and vulnerable like a hermit crab without a shell. You’d give anything to be a regular Beta but nothing had changed in the many years you’d wished on every shooting star.

You sat on a large, black igneous rock, your knees to your chest as you watched the sun set behind the clouds. The purples and pinks made a truly lovely view as a chilly wind brushed over your shoulders. You looked to the south and saw the far light of the bonfire, glowing like a distant ember in the night but allowed yourself to linger for just a few minutes longer. Shanks would look for you soon, swaying with the alcohol in his blood, and have you sit on his lap for the rest of the night as the crew yelled and drank. It wasn’t the way you preferred to spend your night, but it wasn’t the worst either.

The sun set below the horizon and the final, fleeting rays of the sun were overtaken by the dusk as cold wind ran through your hair. You stood up with a sigh, needing to get back to Shanks and warm yourself by the fire. The wind shifted, a nearly familiar scent coming to your nose. The masculine warm tones of cloves and oranges were there but it was soured with undernotes of steel and blood. You squinted and tried to catch it again - it was the same overall scent as Shanks, but something was not quite right. Turning your face towards the North, you closed your eyes and inhaled sharply, trying to understand what you were smelling in the early night. 

You leaned over the rock, your hands pushing into the rough and uneven surface as you tilted your head upwards to sniff the air. You closed your eyes to focus on the barely detectable scent when you suddenly got a huge noseful of it. 

From right behind you.

A hand wrapped itself around the front of your neck, the sharpened claw of his thumb digging into the tender skin of your neck. You inhaled a sharp breath but made no movements - any mistakes and the small trickle of blood coming from your neck could turn into an artery dissection. The body behind you pressed you further into the rock, the metal hilt of his sword hurting your side where it was digging in. The person wasn’t relenting, pushing closer until your front was against the porous black rock, his chest like a steel wall behind you. You felt a face close to your neck, as a new presence loomed behind you. You tried to look at him from your peripheral vision but the thumb dug in further to stop you from moving.

“And what has the drunken lout left behind?” the man’s voice asked in a low husk, his nose close to your throat. You felt his breath and wisps of his hair on your shoulder and you shuddered. The voice sounded so much like Shanks but lacked the easy going nature, the sunshine you’d come to expect in every statement and laugh.

“My brother’s whore, hm?” the man asked rhetorically, taking another long inhale of your scent along your neck. You whimpered as his mouth neared your scent glands, hoping the stench of your fear would overpower the scent of your designation. Once, in the dead of night when Shanks was blackout drunk, he’d mentioned a brother. An older, twin brother named Shamrock - a Celestial Dragon who served as the Commander of the God’s Knights. You didn’t stand a chance against anyone in a fight, much less a Celestial Dragon.

“Hm, no, not a whore. You have the scent of unclaimed Omega,” Shamrock said, his tongue flicking out to lap at your glands. “I’ve never seen you at the sales; I wonder how someone like him found such a prize,” he wondered, clearly not asking your opinion. The fingers gripping your throat tightened as you felt teeth grazing the junction of your neck and shoulder. You let out a small whine of fear to match your scent, which only seemed to delight him further. The teeth became sharper at your throat, pressing in for a moment before the man righted himself behind you. 

“So eager, then? Come along, Omega,” Shamrock said, a hint of dark amusement in his tone. The hand moved from your throat to the base of your neck and tangled in your hair, keeping you from running away. You stumbled in the sand, falling to your knees as Shamrock continued to walk. He didn’t help you but looked down at you as he dragged you along by your hair. Scrambling up to your feet, you were able to take a better look at him and your suspicions proved correct - standing next to you was Shanks’s twin brother, his long wavy hair fluttering in the night wind. You opened your mouth to speak but quickly closed it under his intense gaze. This man was no Shanks, that was clear already. 

“So like my brother to leave his toys lying about. Come along, Pet. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you unclaimed much longer,” Shamrock said with a smirk, pulling you along beside him. The blood drained from your face as you took in his words, causing you to stumble once more. Your knee was skinned on a rock you’d tumbled on as Shamrock continued his unrelenting march towards the castle. He clicked his tongue at your behavior, not even wasting the breath to admonish you.

It was almost funny - you hadn’t wanted to be with Shanks but now you’d do anything to get back to him. He hadn’t been your fated mate but he hadn’t been bad either. He let you speak your mind, he tried to engage with you beyond sex, he let you make eye contact with him…your mind raced to think of a way to stymy Shamrock’s progress until Shanks saved you. 

“Sh-shanks will come for me,” you said in as defiant a tone as you could muster. You were fairly sure he would, you didn’t think it was a bluff. Shamrock’s grin widened as his grip in your hair tightened until tears pooled in your lash line. 

“Let him come.”

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle @whore-of-many-hot-men @one-piecelover @anemonyee @joana7654-blog @mfreedomstuff @littlelovebug98 @hannya-writes @babi-lamb @sanjisleggy @princessuta061108 @twismare @iamrgo @littlelovebug98 @anonymousmuffinbear

[angryisokay]

I understand, but

Dry is a description of how tannins or other astringent chemicals in the alcohol taste/the reaction your body has. A lot of people dislike them because the bitterness is too much or the sensation is too unpleasant.

It's the same reason why people dislike black coffee, IPAs, dark chocolate, or some vegetables.

”Dry” is alcohol code for ”it tasted bad”.

[drakulana]

a little piece of heaven // trafalgar law x fem!reader

it's finally here! part 3 to the first spark series! i know its been a long time coming. be sure to read the first two parts first! i hope y'all enjoy!!! i've had lots of fun writing this!!

⟡ part 1, part 2 ⟡ content: mutual pining, slooooooow burn up until the end, fluff, suggestive ending ;) but nothing nsfw ⟡ wc: 8.5k

⋆⭒˚.⋆

She awoke with a warm feeling all around her. She hadn’t remembered laying down in bed. She was surrounded by a familiar scent. Pine, hints of amber, undernotes of antiseptic. A scent she had come to know as her captain’s. A scent she had only been this close to in her head. It was comforting, warm. The bed was bigger, and the blankets were heavier than her own. Wait, why am I in his bed? She reflected on the night before. She was so tired, running off of maybe a few minutes of sleep and caffeine. She had worked herself too hard, pushed herself a little further than her body liked. Law’s words from last night echoed back to her, reminding her of what had happened. “Y/n, you can go to bed, it’s almost 3:30.” He had told her with a sincere tone. She shook her head at him, “No, it’s okay, I can keep working,” she assured him before looking back down at her page. 

She must’ve fallen asleep after the short interaction between them. She cringed internally from embarrassment. Falling asleep in the captain’s office while doing work, how could she let herself go so unchecked? She finally let herself take in the scene of the morning. The clock read 6:42am. She didn’t sleep for long, exhaustion still heavy in her limbs. She looked around the room, letting her eyes adjust to the light. Law’s bed was in the corner of the office, his desk opposite to it on the other side of the room. There were two book cases. One by his bed, the other by his desk. Both were organized, but the one next to the bed had comic books, and sci-fi novels. Something she didn’t think her captain would read, but she found it endearing to know that the cool and collected man had a nerdier side to him. 

“You’re awake,” Law voiced without looking up from his book. “Sleep well?” He glanced up at her, scanning over her. She took in his appearance, he had dark bags under his eyes, the shadow of the brim of his hat casting down on them giving them a darker look. He was still in the same clothes from the night before, she doubted he had hardly moved from that spot at his desk. His golden eyes glinted with something she couldn’t quite make out. She tore her gaze away, fearing she had stared too long. “It was okay,” She answered him, getting up from her place on his bed. The atmosphere of the office was thick. There was an undeniable tension that floated around the two, coating the walls and everything around them in unspoken words. She made her way towards him, “I’m sorry I took your bed last night, that wasn’t my intention.” He let his gaze wander as she spoke. “I don’t mind it,” He assured her with his usually composed tone. He watched her smooth her hands down her rumpled up clothes, and run her fingers through her messy hair. Law felt a slight disappointment set in as she started to gather her things, but he never let his demeanor falter. She took one last look at Law with a tired sigh. “Thank you for letting me sleep here, but you look like you could use some sleep yourself, Captain. I’ll go so you can get at least a few hours.” With one last look, she exited his quarters and made her way towards her bunk. With her heart racing, she made her way down the seemingly never ending corridors of the Polar Tang. She longed to get into her own bed, under the comfort of her own blankets. She wanted to mull over her thoughts. Turning the corner, she finally saw the door to her bunk. Relief rushed through her, visibly relaxing her. That was until she heard her name being called from the other side of the corridor. She inwardly cursed before turning to meet her crewmate. It was Shachi. He looked panicked. Any ounce of resentment melted away from her as worry filled her. “What is it, Shachi?” She asked him, worry lacing her voice. His cheeks were flushed red like he had been running all over the ship. “Did you by chance load the fuel in the ship?” He asked her. She paled. “No, I thought Penguin did that.” She and Shachi shared an equally fretful look.

“Penguin thought you had done it,” Shachi’s voice shook with anxiety before Penguin ran down the hall. “Did you not get the fuel for the ship?” He asked her, almost trembling. She shook her head at him, sharing his anxious gaze. She sighed, “Was there none in backup?” 

“Only enough to get us to the next port.”

“Shit.” She ran a hand through her hair, “Well somebody is going to have to tell the Captain.” She looked at her crewmates, neither of them moving from their spots. They looked at her, almost expectantly. She caught on. “No, absolutely not. I am not telling the Captain that we forgot the fuel.” Law was a meticulous man. He was precise, detailed. He left no room for trivial errors such as one of his crew members forgetting the fuel. Something like that was a given in his eyes. She was not going to face the wrath of her sleep deprived captain, especially when said captain gave her warm fuzzy feelings that she tried to ignore. Sure, he may have let her sleep in his bed, but that did not mean he would let her off easy for forgetting something as crucial as fuel. Shachi and Penguin kept looking at her, before one of them spoke up, “Please tell him for us, he likes you! He won't yell at you the way he will at us.” They pleaded.

“Like hell he won’t!” She refuted, “He doesn’t like me any more than he likes you guys. Please don’t make me tell him.” Still, neither of them gave into defeat. They stood there at a stand-off between the three. Apprehension hung in the air. Penguin finally spoke up, “Please, last time I told him we forgot something he put me on waste disposal duty for a month,” He shared a serious look with her. “I can’t go through that again. It was traumatizing.” He put his hand over his face, dramatically. She looked at the pair, incredulously before giving in. “Fine, but you owe me. Big time. The both of you.” She pointed her finger at both of them.

“Thank you! Thank you s-”

“Oh, save it,” she cut them off. She was far too tired to deal with her crewmates. Although she couldn’t blame them, it was an honest mistake on all of their parts. They had spent their whole last day on the previous island running grueling tests and checks on everything in the submarine. She could understand how they all let the shortage of fuel fall under their noses without notice. The question was, was her captain likely to take an understanding approach to the situation? She wasn’t too sure. 

She put her things up in her bunk before making her way back to her captain’s quarters. She hoped that he hadn’t gone to sleep, she hated the idea of disturbing the rest that he needed. Begrudgingly, she knocked on the door. Not too long after, a ‘come in,’ was sounded from the other side. She turned the door knob and opened it to meet her captain’s eyes. “(Y/n), back already?” He asked her as she stepped into his office. Law was still sitting in the same spot as his desk as he was whenever she had left. She gave him a look, one that was laced with slight distress. “What is it?” He asked her, wondering what could’ve possibly happened in the short amount of time that she was away.

“Captain, promise you won’t get mad?” She asked him. He raised an eyebrow at her, staying silent as a cue for her to continue. “The fuel for the ship wasn’t stocked before we left the last port,” She admitted to him, looking away from his steel gaze. It was silent in the room. The loud kind of silence. The kind that rings in your ears uncomfortably. She could feel the irritation start to build within the room before a sigh escaped Law’s lips, “Who was in charge of the fuel?” another silence fell over them as she mulled over her next words. She could say that they didn’t exactly assign someone the job, and risk all three of them getting punished, or she could take the blame. Penguin’s dramatic words echoed through her head, ‘Last time I told him we forgot something, I was put on waste disposal duty for a month… It was traumatizing.’ She took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to Law’s expectant gaze. “It was me. I forgot to restock the fuel.” The look Law gave her was far from one of approval. It was disappointment. The look hurt, coming from her captain. “Before you yell-” 

“You’re on waste disposal duty for a week.” He cut her off calmly. There was no yelling. Law was far too tired to raise his voice, and for a reason unbeknownst to him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to raise his voice at the woman in front of him. It was clearly a mistake, however Law detested mistakes. There was protocol, and they were required to follow it to prevent such thoughtless mistakes. 

“Capta-” She was about to protest, but all her captain did was cut her off once more, “That is an order. Would you like to make it two?” She shut her mouth, not wanting to make the punishment any worse for herself. She hung her head, feeling like a child being berated. She would’ve much rather him yelled at her, “Yes sir,” she replied defeatedly.  

Law’s jaw ticked at her words, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, “We’ll stop at the next port, and you will be responsible for gathering the fuel,” he ordered her. “I’ll tell Bepo to make a stop for the next port,” He stood up from his desk and for a second, she thought she’d get out of there without a lecture from her captain. She made her way to the door, Law trailing behind her. He stopped her, leaning closer to her. “Next time, be sure to double check everything before you clear the ship to leave the port. We don’t have time to forget things. We don’t have time to change our plans. You’re lucky we’re close enough to the nearest port to be able to refuel. Take this as your only warning,” He spoke low, his breath fanning against her ear. His voice held such authority. It was a reminder that he was in charge. Their eyes locked, and suddenly it was evident how close his face was to hers. Her heart skipped a beat, “Yes, Captain.” It came out almost in a whisper. She kicked herself for sounding so pathetic. Law didn’t move away at first, letting himself study her features. For a second, she could’ve sworn that he was looking at her lips, but he pulled away before she could question her thought any further. The butterflies that had been living in her gut fluttered around causing her blood to rush to her face, and warmth to gather in her limbs. Wordlessly, he turned away from her, both of them leaving the office. Her face was flushed, and all she could think about was taking a nice long nap until they reached the next port. She’d need the energy if she was going to restock the ship’s fuel all by herself. She sighed to herself before making eye contact with Shachi and Penguin. “You two, you owe me. Wake me up when we get to the next port.” She walked past them and into her bunk, finally ready to get some rest.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

She awoke a few hours later as the ship was ascending to the surface. She gave herself a few minutes before getting up, letting her mind wander. She thought about her captain. He was so enigmatic, carrying himself with such conviction with little explanation. Even before she joined the crew, he had peaked her interest. A pirate, from the worst generation, taking a hundred pirate hearts to the Marines, and becoming the youngest warlord. He was feared, for both his intelligence and his power. Trafalgar Law had been on her radar for quite some time, but being the elusive surgeon he was, she could only ever get scraps of information. Most tucked tail and ran when he was brought up in trades of intel. He was dangerous, and everyone knew it, but he was vital to her work. She was a journalist after all, she wanted to study him, learn everything about him and write it down. However, now it was more personal than she had ever imagined it would be. 

It was no secret Law was an attractive man. He carried himself with confident assurance, hardly ever faltering in the face of conflict. He was tactical, calculated. He planned for everything, and accounted for any mishap that could happen along the way. Those golden eyes of his were ones of a hawk. He never missed anything, nothing went under his nose without him knowing. Being involved with the man was enthralling.  From the electric touches, the heavy wordless gazes, the comfortable silences, it made her crave more. She wanted to know him, personally. To know what went on behind his eyes would be a privilege. 

She was ripped out of her reverie by a knock at her door. She sat up, voicing a come in. Shachi opened the door, “We’re here at the port,” He informed her, sticking his head through the opening in the door. She glanced at the clock, 4 p.m. The next port was on a summer island, She had a few hours of daylight left to gather the fuel, and hopefully make it back to the ship to pick up her work where she left off. She stripped out of her clothes, the same ones that she had slept in. They still smelled of pine and amber. She changed into a tank top and some shorts, then slipped her boiler suit over her clothes, tying the top half around her waist. She made her way out onto the top deck where everyone had gathered as they docked at the small island. It was a village island that mostly made its profit through workshops that produced clothes. It wasn’t a very big, or significant island. (Y/n) hoped that she could get all of the fuel before all the locals turned in for the day, hoping she could get some information about this island. She didn’t know much about it, other than with who and what they traded. 

She found her colleagues conversating amongst each other as she approached. “Where’s the captain?” She asked Bepo. The polar bear turned towards her, “He said he’s staying behind to finish work,” he answered her. Typical Law. She only hoped that he would get enough rest, and by the looks of worried annoyance on Bepo’s face, she could tell he was worried about that as well. It was no secret that their captain hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. He worked day and night, without yielding. He never took time for his well being, and was a hypocrite amongst his crew, as he always held everyone’s health to the highest standard, except for his own. Right now he was working on researching the sickness from the island they had just left. His work was unyielding, and he wouldn’t let himself rest until he was done.

The crew docked, and (Y/n) made her way off of the ship, finding the nearest fuel station with as many berries as she was provided to get the fuel. The town was quiet, and didn’t seem to care too much about the pirates that were occupying their port. Either unbothered, or laying low, the woman couldn’t complain. Shops, and stands lined the roads, some turning down into small neighborhoods. The fuel station sat at the end of the row of shops. She couldn’t help but to note that it was quite inconvenient for the station to be so far from the port. 

The bells jingled as she walked into the fuel station. It was a small shop. The walls were tiles with white and yellow tiles. Drink coolers lined the back walls, and there were four aisles of various things, from chips to toiletries. “Welcome!” a voice had called to her. The voice was very familiar. Her eyes met with a tall man with shaggy black hair that fell over his eyes just slightly. A light shadow dusted his jawline. It took a minute for her to recognize the man standing behind the counter, before it hit her. He was an old classmate from her home island. How he got halfway across the world, she had no idea. She approached the counter with a surprised smile, “Yori?” The man’s eyes snapped up at hers, really looking at her for the first time since she had entered the station. “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. 

“I’m here to get fuel,” she smiled up at him, “It’s been a while, what have you been up to? I wasn’t aware that you had left the island,” she decided to make a little small talk. It wasn't everyday that she saw a familiar face. 

“I work here at this station, I moved here about a few months ago. My grandmother lives here, I came to take care of her,” He told her, “What are you up to? I thought you were a journalist. I didn’t know you became a pirate,” A small humorless laugh left her mouth, the sudden question almost feeling like an intrusion, “Wow word moves fast here, huh?” she broke his gaze, briefly loo “I’m still a journalist.” She left it at that, not letting him into any close details. It was better if he didn’t know anything.  

“Yeah, I noticed the ship at the dock. How long are you going to be here?” He asked her, “Maybe we can get a drink, catch up. It’s not everyday that I see someone from back home.”

“I think it's just for the night. I have to get this fuel for the ship before I can do anything else. I did want to know more about this place, maybe if I get done in time enough we can?” She smiled up at Yori. He nodded before asking how much she needed. She told him, and paid. It took quite some time to fill all of the fuel canisters, but once they were done all she had to do was trek back to the ship. “Would you like some help?” Yori asked her. 

“That would be nice, if you don’t mind,” She told him. With the two of them, the trips could be cut in half, only needing three trips to get all the fuel back to the ship. Those three trips were not fun ones. It was hot, and the walk felt longer each time they made it. The fuel was heavy, weighing her down each step she took. She was sure to be sore tomorrow. The feeling of sweet relief set in as they set the last of the fuel canisters on the dock. “Thank you for helping me, Yori,” she smiled at him. Just as she was about to bring up the drink when she heard footsteps on the deck of the Polar Tang. She looked up to meet the eyes of her captain looking down on her and a man that he had never seen before. “Oh, hi Captain,” she looked up at her captain, “I thought you were working.” Law seemed irritated. His gaze followed over her, and then over to the man standing next her. “I was,” he replied, tension entwining his words. “Who’s this?” he asked her, the irritation seeping into his tone. It was evident that he still had not gotten any sleep. Dark bags hung under his eyes and his face was void of any color. Any longer without sleep and he would start to look sickly. She could feel his eyes scanning over her. His gaze was almost disapproving, and it made her shift on her feet. “This is Yori, he’s from my home island,” she informed her captain, “He was helping me with the fuel.” The man standing next to her that Law had just come to know as ‘Yori’ gave a half smile at her captain  and a slight wave towards him. (Y/n) looked over at Yori, “I think I got it from here, thanks for helping me,” she smiled at him. Yori shared the smile, “Anything for an old friend,” He looked her up and down, although that didn’t quite catch her eye. It caught Law’s, though. Yori stepped a little closer to her, “If you decide that you wanted to catch up, come find me. I’ll tell you more about the island too. I know you like to write stuff like that down,” a small graced her lips as she nodded. Yori turned and walked away, leaving just the woman and her captain. 

Law had already made up his mind that he didn’t like this Yori guy. He didn’t like how he had looked at (Y/n), akin to a dog looking at dinner. He didn’t like how close he had stood to her, like he had an obligation to be in her space. A feeling set into Law, one that knotted up his insides and made his head grow hot. He looked down at the woman on the dock below him gathering up fuel canisters to bring up to the deck. To him she looked stunning with her hair pulled back, a few flyaway strands framing her face. Her skin glistened under the unforgiving sun. She was wearing a white tank top with the boiler suit tied around her waist. The suit was tied in a way where you could clearly see the jolly rodger of the suit visible. She wore it with confidence, and with pride. It warmed Law to see her wearing the jolly roger with so much dignity. Eventually Law stopped staring and made his way down to the dock to help her with the fuel. “If you needed help carrying the fuel to the ship, you could’ve ask me,” Law said to her as he grabbed two of the canisters. 

“I didn’t want to bother you, captain. I was hoping you were getting the rest that you needed,” She had noticed the dark bags as soon as he had walked onto the deck. She was worried about him, to say the least. She knew he was a busy man, but how he could work efficiently while so exhausted remained a mystery to her. 

“I’ll rest when my work is finished,” Law shot back at her. The tone came out ruder than Law had intended, but from the looks of it, it didn’t even phase her. A small hum came as a reply to him, “At that rate, you may never sleep again,” She was only half joking, and it came out in a snarky way. Law always had some kind of work to do. At some point he would have to find a stopping place, but he never found one. Once he finished one thing, another arose. It didn’t help that someone kept creeping their way into his mind, nesting their way into his frontal cortex, refusing to leave. He decided not to reply to her comment, concerned he might say something he didn’t mean. They worked in the silence for the rest of their time together, neither one striking up a conversation. After almost an hour, all the fuel was moved from the dock, to the deck, and then down to the boiler room. The moving of the fuel was grueling, and she was surprised Law had decided to help her, considering he was so exhausted she didn’t understand how he still had the stamina for physical labor. She was also sure he was still upset about her forgetting the fuel with how he was acting. He truly was resilient in everything he did, no matter the conditions he was put under. She couldn’t deny, whether it be of biased intention or not, her captain was a remarkable man. 

They were done now, and the sun hadn’t even begun to set. The rest of the crew was out on the island still, and (Y/n) still had time to meet up with Yori to get some details about this island that she only knew the basics about. Sure, he wasn’t a local, however his grandmother was. Surely he knew some things about this tiny island. Something worth writing about. Everywhere had potential, you just had to look in all the right places. She stood in her bunk, changing into some casual clothes. She had finished all her duties, so there was no reason to wear her uniform. She no longer sported the jolly roger, but instead settled into a pair of jean shorts and a brown tank top. She styled her hair up, leaving a few strands to fall down and frame her face. She wore a few pieces of jewelry to tie the outfit together. Two necklaces hung around her neck, stacked. A gold chain, with a simple gold heart locket, paired with a golden choker that had pearls dispersed every couple inches from each other. She layered some gold bracelets, with some rings. It was nothing over the top, but something to make her look nice. It wasn’t everyday she had gotten to see an old friend whom she had grown up with. She grabbed a crossbody bag, placing her notebook and some pens inside before slinging it over her shoulder. As she walked through the corridors of the ship, she passed her captain’s quarters, deciding to check in with him before she left the ship. She knocked on the door, three times like always. A ‘come in’ was voiced from the other side. 

She opened the door to his office, the yellow light from his desk lamp spilling into the blue-lit hallways. She stepped in, closing the door behind her. Law looked up at her, taking in her appearance. For a split second, he was left speechless, only able to to breathe out the air that was left in his lungs. He rarely got to see her in casual clothes, and to him, it was a privilege he had even got to see her like this. She cleared her throat before speaking, breaking him out of his observation. “I’m about to go meet up with Yori, is there anything you would like me to do before I leave?” She asked him, standing in front of his desk. A bad taste in his mouth formed whenever the stranger's name rolled off her tongue. Yori. Law didn’t forget the way he had looked at (Y/n) like she was a piece of meat earlier when they were on the dock. He wouldn’t understand how special he was to have her dress up for him. He wouldn’t appreciate the way (Y/n) dressed into clothes she normally didn’t wear for him, or how she took extra time to look nice for him. How she had adorned her neck and her hands with gold, for him. Law couldn’t lie, he was just a bit jealous.He tore his admiring gaze away from her, pushing down an envy he hadn’t felt in a long time. She looked expectantly at her captain, waiting for an order, or for clearance to leave the ship but Law couldn’t seem to get the words out of his mouth. His mouth ran dry, and his breath caught. It was strange for the woman to have this effect on him. Words lodged in his throat trying to crawl up his windpipes, only to rest at the tip of his tongue unable to escape his mouth. After what felt like hours, he was finally able to push out a simple, “No.” 

Law’s staring didn’t go unnoticed by her, for a second she worried to herself. Did she look okay? She turned to leave the office, but stopped at the door. “Captain, can I ask you something?” She looked back at the man who was looking at her with something that she couldn’t quite decipher in his eyes. Law nodded at her, cuing her to continue. “Do I… look okay?” She cringed at her own words, immediately wanting to take them and to stuff them back into her mouth. The question sounded insecure, something she never wanted to be seen as in front of her captain. She wasn’t one who seeked reassurance, especially on things as trivial as appearance. Law took in her appearance one more time, wondering how she could possibly be asking that. He cleared his throat before mustering up the strength to push out the words that were held in his throat, “You look beautiful.” Carmine red rose into her cheeks. A soft ‘thank you,’ left her lips, leaving them decorated with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you later,” She beamed once more before turning and leaving through his office door. 

She left Law with only himself and his tired thoughts. His thoughts were consumed by the woman. In the past few days, his remedy for distraction had been piling up the work so high that he didn't have time to think about his crewmember. That remedy only lasted for so long before she wormed her way back into his head. Law was exhausted, yet he couldn’t find the urge to lay down in his bed. He shuffled around some papers on his desk, taking note of every paper that had that pretty cursive handwriting that he had grown to favor instead of his own. Law knew it was inappropriate to feel this way about an insubordinate. It was wrong. There was a power imbalance. Law always considered himself a morally correct man, but in this moment, he questioned every moral about professionalism he had. Breaking one rule wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

⋆⭒˚.⋆

As (Y/n) made it back into town, the sun had started to set along the horizon. Pink, red, and orange, danced in the sky amongst the clouds. There was denying the beauty of the scene. You couldn’t see another island for miles, just one small piece of land in solidarity. It was just the coast and the ocean. The sky, and its clouds. It was a peaceful island, most of its locals being middle-aged to older people. By the time the sun had started to set, all the stands and shops started to close down for the day. She took note of how some of the vendors would leave some of their belongings in their stands. Crime must have not happened often around here. It was uncommon in this day and age to be so trusting.

She made her way to the fuel station at the end of the road. Every step she took, she grew more uneasy. She pushed off her sudden apprehension, forcing a step forward toward the station. She stepped into the fuel station, the bells on the doorway jingling as she entered, a reflexive greeting coming along with the door. Without the sun shining into the station, the building took on a whole new atmosphere. Yellow lights hung from the ceiling, filling the station with a low buzz. She wrapped her arms around her to ease the unsteady feeling that was sinking into her gut. She approached the counter where Yori stood. For the first time since she had walked into the station, Yori had looked up from whatever was occupying him. A smile grew onto his face, his gaze setting onto the woman in front of him. Under the harsh lighting, Yori looked older. He no longer looked like the boy she knew from back home. His face had filled out, and smile lines had just started to form on his forehead and under his eyes. It was a reminder that time had gone by. They were no longer the kids that they once knew each other as. The incessant buzzing of the fluorescent lights was cut through by Yori, “Are you ready to go?” She nodded at him. He walked around the counter, and led her out of the building, locking the door behind him. 

The sky had now morphed into a scarlet red, fading into dark oranges. The sky reflected off of the water, making it seem bigger than it was. A cool breeze blew through the emptying streets making goosebumps rise to the surface of her skin. They walked for a few minutes, useless small talk between the two, before arriving at a small bar at the very end of the aisle of shops and stands. It was dimly lit, and small. The walls and the floor were wood, alcohol brand sign posters hung up around them. The occasional WANTED poster was posted amongst them. There weren’t any that she hadn’t seen before. Most of them were the new generation pirates, others old and worn from being on the wall for years. Yori led her to a booth on the back wall. Coincidentally, her captain’s poster hung right above the table. He smirked down at them, sword on his shoulder, that infamous hat handing over his eyes. 

WANTED

DEAD OR ALIVE

TRAFALGAR LAW

500,000,000

She couldn’t lie, it crossed her mind to take the poster off the wall, just so she could have it for herselfl. She shook off the thought. It was inappropriate to think of her captain that way. Even if he looked good in that particular photo of him. She turned her attention back to the man in front of her, who she had just realized had been talking the entire time she was daydreaming about her captain’s wanted poster. She hoped Yori hadn’t noticed her ignoring him, but by the looks of it, he hadn’t noticed one bit. She tuned into his words, “...and that’s how I ended up on this island taking care of my grandmother, and making minimum wage,” Yori let out a long sigh, “Thanks for listening, it feels really nice to get that off of my chest.” Guilt tugged at her chest as she nodded, “It’s no problem, really,” she replied, trying to keep her facade up. Yori smiled and said something about going to grab some drinks, leaving her alone in the booth. (Y/n) let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, letting her gaze follow back up to the poster hanging on the wall. She looked around the bar, making sure no one’s eyes were on her before grabbing the poster off the wall and folding it up, slipping it into the back of her notebook. She grabbed all her pens, and set the notebook in front of her. She intended on getting her information and then going back to the ship for the night. 

Yori brought back drinks to the table. He set hers in front of her before sitting down in front of her. “So tell me about yourself. How did you end up being a pirate?” He chuckled a little with the question, and she had prepared for this. It wasn’t every day someone from your childhood ended up being a pirate. She let out a fake little laugh, “Oh you know how researching things go,” She smiled before changing the subject, “So tell me more about this island and its occupants,” She opened the notebook in front of her, not wanting to dwell on the fact that she was now a wanted woman. Yori took the hint and started giving out information about the island. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

A few hours had passed, and a few drinks in, the conversation had strayed from the island and onto people they had grown up with. Yori had told (Y/n) about all the classmates that ended up doing good for themselves, and the others who hadn’t. Now they were on the topic of the teachers. Gossip was never something she had typically indulged in, but it wasn’t every day you saw someone you knew on the Grand Line. The laughter between them died down, and (Y/n) looked at the clock on the wall for the first time since she had started taking notes about the island. It was 10pm now, and the sun had disappeared along the horizon. “I better go, it’s getting late,” She told Yori as she gathered up all her things, and put them all back into her bag. They stood up from the booth. “Let me walk you back to the dock, it’s dark out,” He offered. She took his offer and they headed back out to the street. It was far colder than it was whenever they first arrived at the bar, however the walk to the dock was not far so she didn’t have to suffer for long. The stars hung high in the sky, illuminating the land, and dotting the water. They reached the edge of the dock, and Yori turned towards her. “Thank you, for tonight,” he told her. He gazed into her eyes much deeper than she had liked. She took a step back from him before returning his thanks, “Thank you for all the information about this island.” Yori stepped closer to her, reaching out to put his hands on her waist, “Yori-” he cut her off with a quick kiss. She pushed back from him, “Oh, um, Yori… I’m sorry, but this isn’t that,” She told him, creating a far distance between them. Yori stepped back with embarrassment. “Oh,” was all he said. She couldn’t help but to feel bad for the man. She didn’t think she sent any mixed signals. She slowly backed up onto the dock,”Take care of yourself, Yori. Thank you for all the information on the island,” She told him before turning around and walking towards the ship, grateful to get out of that awkward interaction. 

She made her way onto the ship. The corridors were empty, there wasn’t a crewmate in sight. She was happy to be back within the metal walls of the ship. She made her way to her room where she put down all her stuff. She stripped her clothes, and changed back into the boiler suit. It was late, but she still had some work she had to get done, and she still had to report to her captain. She got dressed, and grabbed her notebook from her bag before leaving her room once again. She was going to get some cleaning done, and do the waste disposal before they left the island. The halls were silent, and all she could hear were her footsteps clinking on the floors. A familiar door came into view. The captain’s quarters. Her heart skipped a beat thinking of knocking. The butterflies in her stomach betrayed her as they started to flutter around in her stomach, trying to crawl their way up her throat. She took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the ship fill her lungs. She was now standing in front of the door, with her hand raised. She knocked, hearing a faint ‘come in,’ from the other side. She turned the knob and walked into her captain’s office. 

The air was always cooler in his office, and it always smelled of ink, paper, pine, amber, with a touch of antiseptic. She had come to find this smell comforting, and she thought back to this morning, waking up in between his sheets. A heat fought its way up into her cheeks. She looked at her captain sitting at his desk, hunched over some paperwork. He hadn’t looked up since she had entered the room. She made her way in front of him, breaking the silence, “I gathered some information about this island, if you’d like to hear it.” She offered it to him. She knew that the island held no importance, but she figured she’d offer him the chance to hear what she had gathered. Law looked up at her, motioning for her to continue. She opened her notebook as a folded up piece of paper floated its way down onto his desk. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she went to go snatch the paper up, but Law beat her to it, grabbing the paper in between his two fingers. “What’s this?” he asked her, unfolding the paper. She wanted to melt into the floor. Embarrassment coursed through every limb. Law looked at the poster, smirking a bit, “My wanted poster?” He took a good look at it before handing it back to her, the smirk on his face never falling. “This one is a bit outdated,” He told her, his smirk never falling. It flattered him, really. She folded the wanted poster back up, shoving it in her notebook, humiliation burning through her cheeks. “Tell me about this island,” Law told her, changing the subject, motioning for her to sit down. He knew the island held no importance, and he knew that she still had work to do, but he selfishly decided to keep her there a little longer. It had been a long day, and as much as he’d hate to admit it, being around her relaxed him. He watched her as she opened up the book and started to list off all the things that she had uncovered about the island. He listened to her intently as she spoke, her eyes lighting up every now and then whenever a name was mentioned that could bring some significance to the island. It didn’t take her long to go through all of the information. It was a small island, and there really weren't any reputable names tied to it, aside from the other pirates who would dock and leave just like their crew did. Still, Law took in every second of the information exchange. Once she was done, she looked up at Law with those wide eyes of hers that he swore would bring him to his knees one day. A small, rare smile graced his lips before dropping like it was never there, “It seems you got a lot out of today,” He told her. She smiled wide at him, and nodded, “I did! Yori really filled me in on this place. It’s not as boring as it seems.” She flipped through all of her pages, missing the way Law’s jaw ticked at the mention of the man whom she had spent time with that night. The man that she had gotten all dolled up for. Law knew he shouldn’t feel this way. He knew jealousy was not right, but he couldn’t deny the discomfort that tugged in his gut when he pictured her with someone other than him. It was an unhealthy attachment. It was inappropriate. 

(Y/n) sat across from Law, still oblivious to his inner turmoil. Oblivious to the new feeling that made his head feel hot and his stomach sink low. Without looking up at her captain, she went on about her night, about how Yori caught her up on people from her hometown. How he told her about all the best places to eat on the small island. She missed the way Law’s jaw ticked every time she mentioned the man’s name. She missed the way Law’s leg started to bounce up and down, impatiently. She was too busy flipping through the pages of that beloved notebook, “Oh! Look, I even got a map!” She pulled the map out, walking around the desk to where Law was sitting. She unfolded the map and laid it out in front of him, “It’s really nothing impressive, though, I grabbed at one of those stands down the strip” She looked down at the map, “You can keep the map,” She offered to him, turning towards him. Her knees brushed against Law, and for the first time since she had started rambling she met the eyes of her captain. They were close. She could feel the warmth coming off of Law’s body. The breath she was breathing in caught in her throat. Law cleared his throat, but made no attempts to move back, selfishly relishing in the moment, “Thank you,” he told her. They stayed there for a minute or two, looking at one another before (Y/n) sighed taking one last look at her captain. “I still have some work I need to get done,” She told him, “I still have to do the waste disposal before we leave, and I was going to try to clean up the boiler room a bit.” A feeling of regret from that afternoon gnawed at Law. He felt as if he was too harsh towards her, rude even. He didn’t want her to overwork herself. He knew he was being a hypocrite whenever he made the judgment of her working too much. Law wanted to keep her there for longer. He wanted to spend more time with her. He wanted to hear her sweet voice ramble on about nothing in particular. It had been a long day of Law’s work. He had hardly gotten anything done between being exhausted, and pacing back and forth trying to clear his mind of the very woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t deny the peace that washed over him whenever she sat on the other side of his desk, working away on her own things. “Actually, I was hoping to get your feedback on some of the work I did today,” He told her. He hadn’t actually done a lot of work. It also wasn’t something that she hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t like she was well versed in pathology or anything medical outside of reading Law’s textbooks when she was bored. “Oh, okay!” she cheerfully replied to him, making her way back over to his desk. She walked around to his side, standing next to him, expecting to see some new work on his desk, but she couldn’t make out what was new and what was old from the mess that was his desk. She was standing close to him, again, and he could feel the warmth off of her skin. He could smell the sweet floral perfume she had put on before she left the ship earlier that day. He was growing impatient, playing this waiting game that he had made himself, and it was only getting in the way of his work which was the opposite of what he had intended. 

Law was not an impatient man, but he was tired of weighing the moral costs of making the move. He was tired of ignoring the warm feelings. He was tired of pushing away the lingering thoughts, and burying them in work. He was sleep deprived, and that’s the excuse he decided he would tell himself tomorrow morning. Standing up from his chair, he reached out for her hand. A small gasp fell from her mouth, as she followed the pull towards him, “Cap-” he cut her off, sliding his hand to cup her cheek, the other resting on her waist. He pulled her into a kiss before she could even finish the word. The kiss was electric. White hot pleasure coursed through his veins, as he finally allowed himself to indulge in what he had wanted to for months now. He briefly broke apart, and stuttered words started to fall from her pretty mouth, he shushed her with another kiss, this one deeper. This one filled with need. She let him explore her mouth with his tongue, as he lifted her onto the edge of his desk, slotting himself in between her legs. “C-Cap-” she gasped, but he cut her off again, ”It’s Law,” He corrected her, leaning down to her ear, “In here you can call me Law,” He nipped at her ear, wrapping his hands up in her hair. He trailed down to her neck, leaving kisses and nipping at the skin every now and then. “Law,” she tested his name on her lips. His name sounded so sweet, the way her honeyed voice breathed out the syllables. His grip on her waist tightened, as he listened to her form words that he paid no mind to. “L-Law, this is wrong,” she breathed out, “you're my captain,” Law broke away briefly, “I know,” he told her. 

“Law,” this one came out more of a whine, one filled with need. It made the all too familiar warmth blossom in the pit of his stomach, once again. “I still have things I haven't done,” she pushed against his shoulder, “I h-ave to finish the w-waste disposal,” Law’s kisses were unforgiving, and unwavering. She was melting in his hands, watching herself be turned into putty at the hands of her captain. Law broke his kiss, and looked up at her. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, “Don't worry about the waste disposal, I'll make Penguin do it,” He told her. As much as she wanted to feel guilty for letting him dump it on someone else, she couldn't. She was too busy trying to make coherent thoughts as her captain continued his actions. Law’s fingers ran up her figure, finding the zipper of her boiler suit. He looked at her, silently asking for permission that she granted with a nod. He slowly undid the zipper to the suit, kissing his way down to her chest. He breathed in her scent, pulling her body impossibly closer to his. He pushed the top of the suit off of her body, leaving her top half in a thin tank top. 

He looked at her closely, closer than he had ever been able to before. Her cheeks were red, and her lips were swollen from his kiss. Temporary red marks littered her neck and chest where he had nipped at the skin. Her hair ruffled from him running his fingers through it. He hesitated for a second before asking her, “How about we take this somewhere more comfortable, yeah?” She nodded at him, as he led her to his bed. He laid her down on his plush mattress, crawling on next to her. She took a deep breath. Pine, hints of amber, antiseptic, Law. His golden eyes took in her figure, in his sheets. In that moment, without difficulty, he could confidently say that she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. He could feel himself falling, and for just this one night, he would let himself. He crawled over her, entrapping her body under his. He let his hands roam over her body, “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to her. She took his face in her hands, kissing him passionately. For tonight, they both let themselves indulge in this little piece of heaven they had been granted. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

a/n: thank you all for taking the time to read this series, it means a lot to me, and i'm glad others can enjoy my work. i've had lots of fun writing this!

@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost, any of my content without my consent

Taglist: @shuujin , @pinksaiyans , @buttmishaaaa, @tokaio, @augustanna, @sukilovesyou, @mschoiyuki, @songinabottle , @starlightanyaaa, @elen-alambil, @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

[toonetowne]

"coming this summer! !!UNDERNOTE!! "LIGHTS! CAMERA! BLOODSHED! THE TALENT SHOW OF THE YEAR!!! YOURE NOT GONNA WANT TO MISS THIS FOLKS!"

[citrinae]

lotus eaters.

robin x reader

contents; in which you and robin wind up on a deserted island. fluff, suggestive content, established relationships, afab!reader, wc: 1k. i’m just happy that i brought myself to post this around her birthday <3

masterlist

Toes buried in white-hot sand, legs tangled, skin catching colour where the sun was able to reach. Opening before you were infinite flashes of ocean; its waves murmured a cool accompaniment to Robin’s voice as she was reading from a volume with histories of the first people who came ashore to this island. Explorers. Adventurers. A runaway couple taking destiny between their teeth. Her voice was morphine, and you found the narrative hard to follow. But you weren’t surprised to notice that associating her face with the more relevant cast made it feel coherent enough to keep you there. 

Enjoying her company was enough. 

Seagulls piercing their way through the cloudless sky. The breeze cupped your face in a balmy retreat; sunscreen and sweat and the floral undernote in Robin’s perfume. With one of her many hands, she turned the page. 

“Let me know if this bores you,” she said. It took you a while to realise that this begged for a conversation. 

Heat surged to your cheeks, “No, no.” You look up to meet her face, brow raised. “Does it bore you?” 

Closed eyes and thin amusement met you like a riddle; Robin was a graceful cocktail of patience and casualness. Incense dispersing across the silver ceiling of a church, you knew she was never easy to read. And Robin seemed to know it too as she wore it the same way she would wear a favourite pair of boots: with pride. 

“A little, maybe.” A small chuckle leaves her, and something clutches in your stomach when it does. “I'd rather use my mouth for something else.”

To this you said nothing, but you knew that the hitch of your lips as her face moved closer was response enough. You kissed her. She returned it, a bitter trace of the coffee she’d had aboard the Sunny still lacing her lips. The fig she’d shared with you as you had been pushing your way past the jungle. For a moment you allowed yourself to drown.

Then, brushing a strand of hair behind her ears, your curiosity pulled Robin’s attention back to the volume she was reading you. 

“Is it true they lived there?” But most importantly, “You really think so?”

Two hands bloomed across your back and arm, soothing you closer. Your head rested at the crook of her neck. 

“Coordinates do match,” she started. “It may also explain the shipwreck we found on the other side of the island, plus the ruins scattered throughout the jungle. Their architecture is quite distinctive as well. If anything I’m positive this is the place.”

Your mind raced to hours ago; there had been a ship. Dusted and falling apart, a memory of expeditions failed. “Legend has it they continued their journey home,” Robin had told you as you tried to make something of the writing cut into wood and in a cryptic language you couldn’t understand, but she did. “But all historical findings have gone scarce after they debarked on this island. Curious, is it not?” Curious. Not worrying, not unsettling. She had been smiling. 

Could it happen? Can a crew wind up on an island and be lulled into not leaving it? Be caught in a narcotic fog, let themselves be eaten away by sand and vegetation? With the breeze whispering lullabies in your ear and Robin’s lukewarm breath on your cheek, you could admit that you somewhat understood them. Journeying with the Strawhats was a tempest, all battered feet and dusted clothes, and no matter how fond you’d grown of the taste of sweat under your bottom lip, tranquillity was the one thing you’d lose yourself to, always. When they happened, a foreign part of you wished that such moments would stay with you forever. 

Being alone with her made you tranquil. 

There was a cottage you could imagine, an unpretentious corner doused in lavender and summer fruit. You would aid Robin in her research by the day, and by night you would lie with her on the beach, chests pressed, flushed lips. Waves lapping at your feet, salty and cold under the Moon’s ghostly eye, her voice would weave poetry to the stars as your mouth would work its own across her inner thigh. Crickets and toads and rustling palms; with the sounds spilling their honey from the sultriest depths of your musing, you tried to recall how long you’d been here. You couldn’t. Your heart squeezed in your chest, thinking how easy it was to want these minutes extended and turned into a new reality. 

“This tale made you uneasier than it’s worth,” Robin looked at you with a prying eye. “Are you afraid we will disappear?”

Fretful people fascinated her. 

“No, I,” you tried, knees dragged to your chest. “I mean this is a beautiful island.”

You never had to give Robin a full answer for her to know exactly what you meant. That could be part of why you two worked so well. And to give the impression of broader extrapolation, she always lingered on what you said. Just like she did now, tapping her bottom lip with her index.

“It is,” spilled out, an airy sound. The pause that came after made you dizzier than the first and you almost regretted allowing yourself a moment of selfishness. 

“But I’m sure the ones to follow are even more so,” Robin took a beat to measure the waves. Then, out of the corner of her eye, “And if they turn out differently, we are more than free to return here.” Her lips were curled in the shape of a promise. 

You felt like being pulled out of a dream. “Yeah, sounds more like it,” you said eventually, brushing your nose against Robin’s cheek. “Now let’s go find the others.”

“Ok,” she said. “Let’s.”

From afar the wind carried with it the histories of pirates and heroes and lovers; all with their arrivals, and their departures, sails billowing to soothe a sunburn. They were the strangest kind, their ships furious, their eyes alive, kindled brighter with each wonderful place they landed on. You hadn’t witnessed half of what they did. Hadn’t listened to half of the stories they told. And some say the sea is infinite. 

Robin was already standing up, a hand out to help you get on your feet. 

Your adventures would not end here.

[shukenzu]

speaking of mischaracterized main ships (see previous post), did you know? hananene is not all cute and fun. yes it is toxic too. even though its much healthier than whatever mitsuba and kou have going on they have some serious issues too, specifically in miscommunication. its a lot harder to mischaracterize hananene due to their loveable chemistry and more healthy nature, but i still feel like the unhealthy parts of it go majorly undernoticed and deserve addressing. i should do a small deep dive into that too, especially since this was my otp since i got into tbhk. okay im gonna go eat homemade mac and cheese and reread tbhk for the mtsk analysis, night.

[walnutcookie]

ok. So. I have a headcanon about Vee that I would like to share (I’ll be sending it to the dw headcanons blog as well)

Vee IS able to eat, however, since she has no mouth, she simply. Lifts up her screen. And throws food in there. And then the food gets like digested and tasted using boring technology stuffs that I don’t know how to explain

HOWEVER

She’s not limited to JUST putting food in there, she can basically just use it as storage space. but when something is put in there she always instinctively gives a very ai-generated sounding response about how the object tastes. So. Yeah

Have this interaction

📺: *puts a capsule in there*

📺: Mm! Quite the diverse taste, with a paint-like texture and a burnt rubber undernote, along with the glass outer shell!

🍓: …did you just describe how the capsule tastes-

📺: YOU NEVER HEARD THAT BERRYBOY

OH THIS IS A LOVELY MENTAL IMAGE. IM GIGGLING OH MY GOD. YES. HELP

[violetsandshrikes]

I want to say sorry. I sent a nasty message after your tradwife post. I read it as you excusing rich white privileged women but after reading the tags and your replies I am starting to understand what you meant and I am seeing that the group is bigger than I thought. Sorry for being an asshole.

Tbh I have an inbox full of people pissed about that post, so it’s 50/50 whether I even saw/read/processed that message! Thank you for apologising, and thank you for being open to other points of view ❤️

I’m glad if I can make people expand their thought process about this group and how we perceive them. I really do think we need to talk more about the specifics, and how while trad influencer circles tend to be the group you mentioned, we also have women in that group we very specifically need to reach out to:

• Tradwives who aren’t white. I’ve met quite a few, and they suffer even more under that hierarchy. The “passport bro” phenomenon is also notable, and it isn’t new: I have met a number of “mail order brides” who are brought to Western countries at 18-20, married to men who are incredibly older and established, and expected to fulfil this role.

• Rural vs urban. I’ve met a lot less rural tradwives than urban, and there’s actually a reason for this: rural tradwives are expected to take on even more a workload, to the point you rarely see most of them outside their house/property. The effects of the additional free labour and the isolation are considerable.

• Disability. Many, many people forget this one. Pregnancy can be debilitating, and childbirth can very easy disable someone permanently. 18-24 months is considered the ideal standard between children - I’ve read studies that suggest that the body does not have the chance to fully recoup until at least 2.5 years post-partum. These women are encouraged to have children back to back, kept from birth control, and many, many I have talked to are pushed into sex before they’ve even healed from birth (which is a whole other topic to tackle about the level of consent and safety in these relationships). I don’t think it’s coincidental that many of these women overlap with the almond mom/wellness guru grift. I think it’s notable many of them quote exhaustion, pain, frequent illness, connective tissue issues…etc. Childbirth expectations + managing children and the household with low to no input from a partner + being part of a group that tends to shy from modern medicine? I very heavily suspect that if given correct care, a lot of these women would end up classified as disabled to some degree.

Honestly, I nearly turned the notes off that post because I didn’t want to deal with it. And then I saw people in the tag commenting how they have “tradwives” in their community that are often undernoticed/talked about (I specifically noticed people from latam talking about this). If I have to get annoyed every now and then to encourage + platform minority women to discuss how this affects them and their communities, then I’m happy to take that hit.