#ANYWAY….i’ll stop going on in the tags

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)

contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3

satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.

“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.

you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”

“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”

you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.

your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.

not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.

“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.

satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.

for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?

as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)

“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”

“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.

“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”

“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”

“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.

he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.

satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.

he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.

“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”

“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”

“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.

“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”

“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”

“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”

“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.

he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”

“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”

“and what would that be?” he pouts.

“everything.”

“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.

“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”

“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.

“think about what?”

“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”

��i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”

“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”

“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.

“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.

“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”

“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”

he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.

ever.

“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”

“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”

“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.

his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.

“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”

“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.

satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.

i cried writing this. what a man he is truly

[purble-turble]

Man.. the reason I even watch LMK is because it’s not puppet animation…. Fuck lego fr

[anystalker707]

gonna take more than a couple hours

Pairing: Shanks x [male, amab] Reader Summary: Shanks and you have been flirting for a while. It was about time things got taken to the bedroom Tags: top shanks / lots of petnames

Requested by anon ["Yaay! I'm starving for some Shanks or Mihawk fics 😥😥 I'm glad you're doing well! ❤❤ So, could I then request amab male reader (bottom) x Shanks (top) where reader is a booze merchant, sailing the seas and selling the good stuff for both local folk and pirates, but he always has some saved for Shanks(...)"]

MASTERLIST

          “Oh, look at who we have here!” A familiar voice rang over the sound of glasses clinking together and loud chattering. “I’m talking with you, sweetheart.” Given the proximity of the voice, you turned around from the aligned glasses on the shelf and gasped at the sight of the familiar red-haired man leaning over the counter with a grin.

“Shanks!” You gasped with a grin before leaning over to hug him. “Oh, it’s been so long! How have you been?” You pulled away and looked him up and down. No new scars, as far as you could see.

“Oh, fine, of course, ignoring when I was missing the best boy around, y’know?” Shanks winked, holding back a chuckle at the visible embarrassment across your face.

You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath. “Going to spend the night, yeah?” The golden seal of the blueish bottle came off with ease at your experienced ministrations, and the drink was placed in a large glass that you pushed toward Shanks.

“Of course. Only a couple of hours with you aren’t enough,” Shanks said as if it were obvious as he took a sip of the drink, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything. “On a side note, I hope you have enough booze for us this time. We can’t find good booze like yours anywhere else, so we’re taking everything you have.” He grinned.

“Everything?” You raised an eyebrow. “I have quite a bit in stock, so maybe it’ll be too much. Are you sure?”

Shanks clicked his tongue and tilted his head. His thumb ran along the handle of the glass, tracing the shape gently, as his ring shone under the last rays of sunlight of the day that slipped through the window. “You know me, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, breathing a chuckle. “As long as you pay well…”

“Oh, love…”

          “So…” Benn muttered through the cigarette in his mouth. “Eighteen boxes.” He looked at you for confirmation before you nodded, and he handed you the berries, waiting for you to check before walking away.

“Great,” you whispered to yourself, tucking the bills into your pocket. Having the Red Hair Pirates over didn’t only mean pleasantly escaping the monotonous routine but also a good addition to your account. You were about to return to behind the counter when an arm wrapped around your waist, and you didn’t even need to look to know who it was, placing your hands over his arm as you instinctively leaned into the embrace.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Shanks pressed a kiss behind your ear with a hum. He already smelled like booze, but he drank so much that it’d take more than two bottles for him to start feeling something.

A small smile tugged on your lips. “Work, of course.” The bar was rather agitated with the Red Hair Pirates around, given how they attracted many people and how fond of partying they were. It didn’t matter where, it was all the same thing. In all the bars you’d worked, wherever you’d sell your stuff, the crew was there, down for a drink. “Got a lot of stuff to do tonight.”

Shanks’ arm tightened around your waist when you moved to grab a few empty glasses. “I don’t think so. Well, not here anyway,” he muttered, and you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm up. He was being a lot more touchy and possessive than usual… “Y’know, you could show me the bedrooms in his place. I don’t think I’ll be able to find my way back to the ship tonight,” he muttered with an audible smirk, and he certainly had fun seeing you progressively melt.

Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand over Shanks’ before facing him, furrowing your eyebrows. You weren’t sure whether you were worried or afraid or something else. “Shanks…”

“I mean what I’m saying, sweetheart,” Shanks chuckled, rubbing your side, his touch soothing. “Please?” His breath fanned against your cheek, and you had to use all your strength not to turn and kiss him right there. Not that it would matter, but you needed things at a slower pace.

“Come on,” you whispered, squeezing his arm before you stepped away and headed over to the stairs that led to the second floor of the building. The stairs creaked under your feet, and the sound of loud chatter and music became muffled in the background according to how you reached the last stairs and, eventually, the hall. “This is my— Nngh!” 

Shanks pressed his lips to yours the moment you walked into one of the rooms, yours, kicking the door close behind himself and cupping your cheek. It was something you’d wanted for so long, but you didn’t know what to do now that it was happening, your mind going blank before you could finally start kissing him back. He hummed in appreciation, deepening the kiss once you started relaxing at it.

“That’s a good boy,” Shanks whispered between kisses, muffling any attempt to answer with more kisses, pushing his tongue into your mouth until he could snatch a quiet moan from you. His thumb ran across your cheek before he finally pulled away. His gaze held yours as he locked the door behind himself. “I’ve been having you in my mind for quite a while, sweetheart, did you know that?”

Your cheeks heated up, both at his words and how he stepped closer again, kissing your shoulder softly as his fingertips peeked under your shirt. “Mm, I dunno if I believe you,” you breathed, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulders, and you couldn’t help but grip them when he started kissing your neck. His stubble scratched your skin, tickling. It was uncomfortable, but the kisses and nipping on your skin made it seem insignificant, even more so when he bit down on your neck, snatching a gasp from you.

“Maybe I’ll have to show you, then?” Shanks whispered with a soft chuckle, pressing kisses over the bite mark he left behind. The words escaped your grasp for a moment, caught in your throat, and an embarrassed sound came from you instead. “Oh, love,” he sighed softly, kissing your neck. Despite not trusting yourself enough to answer Shanks, you grasped onto his shirt, slowly undoing the last buttons, which earned you a hum of appreciation.  “Join me,” he muttered, tugging lightly on your shirt.

The clothes were removed one by one, discarded and forgotten on the floor while you moved towards the bed, landing on the mattress with Shanks on top of you, his mouth pressed to yours once more. Shanks nipped on your bottom lip until you whimpered before he ran his tongue over the bite and slipped it into your mouth. He kissed well, managing to make your cock twitch and leak just by making out with you, even more so when he kissed you deeper after you tugged on his hair.

“Fuck,” Shanks groaned, like revolted at himself or something else, and started nipping down your jaw, kissing and nipping on your neck and collarbones, anything to get from you the little whimpers that he loved so much. He seemed to know how to do that very well.

Despite how unstable your voice would be, you finally gathered some courage, cracking out Shanks’ name in a broken moan and arching your back into his touches.

“Do you—”

“There’s lube in the drawer,” you breathed, looking away to avoid the look he shot you while you reached for the bedside table and retrieved the bottle of lube. “Can I, please?” Your eyes met his again, and you forced yourself to hold eye contact despite your heartbeat hammering against your ears.

With a nod, Shanks sat back with your legs over his thighs, observing it as you poured the lube on yourself, groaning softly at the feeling of the cold liquid trailing between your legs.

“Fuck,” you breathed, putting the bottle aside.

Shanks could only reach out before your fingers pressed to your own entrance, and his breath hitched at the same time his eyes widened lightly. “Holy fuck, baby,” he breathed, placing a hand on your inner thigh. His thumb pressed to your ass lightly to spread it and give himself a better vision of your two fingers sinking inside yourself. He bit his lip, but the excitement was still clear through the way his cock twitched, with a drop of pre-cum dripping down the thick length.

Your eyes were focused on Shanks’ face, watching his reaction to how you fingered yourself carefully, and fuck, holding yourself back was hard. The arousal made you so sensitive, in a way you could just finger yourself until you came, but Shanks’ cock would be a better, bigger prize. He rubbed circles into your skin with his thumb, and you knew it was time to stop before you got close. Instead, you grabbed the lube again and poured it on Shanks.

A soft hiss came from Shanks when the cold liquid came in contact with his cock, but he gave you a real moan when your hands wrapped around his length, spreading the lube evenly while stroking him. He was so thick in your hands, heavy, making you squirm a little in anticipation. Shanks surely loved the effect he had on you, squeezing your thigh more, but your hands soon left him as well, only returning to his cock once you lay back on the bed, guiding it to your hole.

“Excited, aren’t we?” Shanks had that terrible smirk on his lips as he leaned over you again, kissing you before you could give him any answer. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby,” he whispered between kisses, and the most you could give him in response was a groan.

You arched your back with a gasp the moment Shanks’ cock started to push into you, stretching you nicely, which gave you a light burning feeling that only managed to heighten your arousal. “Mmph, fuck,” you practically whimpered, holding on to his shoulders tightly once he was almost fully inside. When he was, though, you could barely catch your breath for a moment, trying your best to adjust to feeling that full.

“Good, sweetheart?” Shanks’ breath fanned over your skin as his lips grazed your own, and you took a moment to nod, adjusting your arms around his neck. “Great,” he said before he could start moving, chasing a fast pace right away. His elbow was pressed to the mattress, right by your side, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, adjusting the angle of the thrusts lightly, though you doubted he even had to hit your prostate continuously to make you see stars.

It felt better than anything you’d felt in a while, sending an intense wave of pleasure down your spine, and you wondered if Shanks had put anything in your drink earlier—even if you hadn’t drunk anything for a while. He managed to fill you up so well, hitting all the right spots, and making you a mess so quickly.

“Too— Mmph, Sh—” You gasped, nails sinking into his back as your thighs quivered.

Shanks raised an eyebrow as he paused and pulled back a little to look at your face. “Yes, baby? Did I hurt you?”

You gave yourself a moment to breathe before shyly meeting Shanks’ gaze, swallowing. “A little slower, please?” You rubbed the back of Shanks’ neck, playing with his hair a little. “I… It’s too good. You didn’t hurt me.”

There was a pause before Shanks hummed with a nod and a poor attempt to suppress the smirk that tugged on his lips. “Of course, sweetheart.” He kissed you again, softly, holding the kiss as he started moving his hips once more. The thrusts were still intense, but they weren’t so fast anymore, allowing you to have some control over yourself.

Shanks swallowed your moans, keeping the kiss going, nonetheless. He was straining, trying his best not to fuck you as fast and hard as he wanted, but he needed you to feel good as well. There was nothing to lose by taking the slower pace, and it also meant enjoying you for longer. He craved the way you clenched around his cock, milking it with every thrust, a lot better than anything he could’ve imagined during lonely nights.

“You feel so good around me, baby,” Shanks muttered into your ear; his words and moans managed to intensify your arousal. He hissed as your nails sank into his back, his thrusts faltering. “Fuck…”

“Feels so good,” you breathed, arching your back and wrapping your legs tighter around Shanks’ waist. It felt like getting a relief you didn’t know you needed, and it felt like the best thing ever. “Mmph, more…” Your moans started sounding whiny, but you really couldn’t help it. It was one of the last things you wanted to care about right now, with Shanks’ cock filling you so nicely, making your head foggy with arousal.

Pride swelled in Shanks’ chest before he pressed his lips to your neck again, nipping and sucking the soft skin, leaving behind love bites as a token of his love—and lust—toward you. He couldn’t help but thrust faster again, paying attention to your reactions as he did so. He needed it so badly.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you said shakily, feeling your thighs quiver.

The strings of moans echoed in the room along with the obscene sound of skin against skin, and you found yourself lost in a nice haze, barely aware of the existence of anything beyond that bedroom. The reality Shanks pulled you into felt so much better, blissful, making you ache with need.

Your thighs pressed into Shanks’ hips to pull him closer, and the spots his hips hug into would probably hurt later, but that’d just be another sexy reminder.

Whenever you arched your back, Shanks’ cock would hit just the right angle that’d make you see stars, so you invested in it, squirming, doing your best to keep that angle until your balls tightened with the anticipation of the impending orgasm. “Sh—Shanks,” you mumbled, your nails sinking into his back and scratching it. “I’m— Mmph, ‘m close,” you breathed as your thighs quivered, becoming tighter around him, just like your walls tightened and squeezed his cock, craving it.

“Great, me too,” Shanks muttered as he paused before he started moving again, his thrusts faster, not minding how intense it was because your release was actually the goal right now. He loved your gasps and breathless whimpers, how you clung to him, scratching and squirming. His arm hurt a little from holding himself in that position for a while, but you were almost there, so he made a little effort.

A pleased sound that resembled a sob escaped your lips as you arched your back, thighs trembling as you came, cock twitching and spurting warm cum between the two of you messily. It was all it took for Shanks to follow suit, cumming inside you, allowing his seed to fill you while he kept thrusting sloppily to make sure to milk every drop of cum from you. The feeling of Shanks’ teeth tugging on your collarbones was what brought you back to reality after the orgasm, his stubble scratching your skin.

“Fuck,” you groaned before cupping Shanks’ face, bringing him for another kiss. “I think you gotta stay for longer.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[amcoffey]

Feel Better

Trafalgar Law x chronically ill Reader

(It's a little bit of a "squint your eyes to see the romance" deal)

Summary:

You’ve never missed a dose. No matter what medicine you were on, you took it at the exact dosage and the exact time needed. This truly is no small feat. You have been on a lot of different medicines in the many years since your diagnosis. Pills, injections, IV infusions. It didn’t matter what it was: you never missed a dose. Well… Never until now. To think the only time you’ve ever missed a dose of your meds is because you got isekaied into One Piece. It sounds like a bad joke. Who is going to ever believe you? Note: One Piece belongs to Echiro Oda. Not I, a lowly fanfiction writer, who is just using his characters to cope.

Word Count: 3,249

CW: Chronic illness, medical jargon, descriptions of pain

Other tags: hurt/comfort, angst, second person perspective, probably out of character Law (ya girl hasn't caught up yet. I'm in Wano)

You’ve never missed a dose. No matter what medicine you were on, you took it at the exact dosage and the exact time needed. This truly is no small feat. You have been on a lot of different medicines in the many years since your diagnosis. Pills, injections, IV infusions.

It didn’t matter what it was: you never missed a dose. 

Well… Never until now. 

To think the only time you’ve ever missed a dose of your meds is because you got isekaied into One Piece.

It sounds like a bad joke. Who is going to ever believe you? 

You wouldn’t if you weren’t in that exact situation. You'd laugh if it wasn't for the anxiety raging within you. Sat in your uncomfortable seat, your leg bounced uncontrollably. You ignore the calculated gaze of the man in front of you.

“Can you please explain what happened?” He was quick to the point. There was no nonsense with him. He wanted to talk about what happened. 

And, to put it simply…

“I can’t.” You didn’t. 

A large part of you was hoping desperately that maybe if you prove you’re more trouble than you’re worth he’ll drop it. Law’s eyes narrowed. 

“Can’t? Or won’t?” To your disappointment, he wasn’t giving up that easily. 

“Both actually.” You answered, defiance in your voice as you glared at him. “Can I go now?”

“Nope.” His steely eyes don’t leave yours as he sits forward in his chair. “Not until you tell me what happened.”

“There’s nothing to say.” You lied. He let out a tight sigh in response. 

“You cannot think I’d believe that given what happened.” 

“Nothing happened.” You insist as you stand from your chair. Pain immediately shoots through your stomach that you do your best to ignore. It didn’t matter though because Law definitely noticed the wince. “Anyways thanks for the talk captain! I’ll be seeing you!” You move to push past him but you're stopped when he sticks his arm in your way. 

“Sit down.” Law didn’t even move from his seat but effortlessly pushed you back in yours. “Where are you hurting?” 

“Umm… Nowhere.” You were pushing his buttons, you knew you were. But you'd rather make the Surgeon of Death mad at you than discuss what he wanted to. Law sighed as he shook his head. 

“You’re being stubborn,” You lowered your gaze to the ground. You can’t look at him. “Why can’t you just talk about it?” 

Why? Why can't you talk about it? Because you were not in this situation. You couldn’t be! You were not about to talk about your chronic illness with Trafagalar Law of all people. 

Because why would you tell him about it? You were in remission, you were fine. Whatever happened that got him so worked up was just… A fluke. 

It had to be. 

“Has this been an ongoing problem?" He speaks up again as he shifts forward. "Why haven’t you said anything about it?” 

“In my defense,” You sat back in your chair and sighed. Your arms circle around your torso. You were looking everywhere but to him. “I didn’t think I’d be here for this long.”

“Defense noted,” He states. "But you are here. You have been." Given how uncooperative you’ve been, you expected him to start getting angry by now. And yet, when you braved a look at him, you saw his gaze was much softer than you were expecting. “I suggest you explain. You happen to be with the best doctor around. I can help.” 

You scoff. Gaze darted back to the floor. That wasn’t the first time you’ve heard that. 

In fact, you heard those words the day you got teleported here. You had switched health insurance and had to change gastroenterologist. That day you had your first appointment with him. 

“I’m the best around.” He had reassured you. But when you started giving your medical history he cut you off. Just to tell you a bunch of basic information you already knew.

"Your condition is an autoimmune chronic disease. There is no cure."

As if you hadn't spent the last 10 years grappling with that fact.

And then when you got home you passed out and ended up in the Grand Line. 

At first you thought the scariest part of showing up here was the fact you had no idea where ‘here’ was story wise. Back at home, you were reading One Piece. You had just read about the Strawhats getting an SOS call that told them about a place called Punk Hazard. But you couldn’t get farther in the manga. You were waiting for the next volume to arrive to your apartment. The ironic thing is it probably arrived by now.

But you were wrong to fear the characters and story. The actual scariest thing about being here was what you were dealing with right now.

“Hey,” Law’s soft calling brought you back to reality. A reality you wanted nothing to do with. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, ok?” Your voice was smaller than you wanted it to be. He sighs and there’s some note of understanding in it. 

“Have you ever thought that maybe talking about it will make you feel better?” 

“It won’t.” You say with certainty. Then knowing he was going to have more questions you didn't want to answer you add “Talking about it reminds me it’s there.” 

“Oh really?” His voice is still soft but there’s some exasperation behind it. “And the debilitating abdominal pain you were in not 30 minutes ago doesn’t?” Well… Shit. He had a point. 

"I didn't say it was abdominal pain." You countered. It was the wrong thing to focus on. But it was something

"You didn't have to. I could tell." His lips quirk up in a victorious smirk. "Doctor. Remember?" You roll your eyes and return your attention to the floor.

"I'm not saying a word." The smirk he had on must have been wiped off by now but you didn't check. You saw in your peripheral as he dragged his hand down his face.

"Come on! You were practically paralyzed." You winced, this time not in pain. But because of the truth his words held. "You wouldn’t move, wouldn’t talk. Your face got deathly pale and patchy. You keep pretending that’s nothing but that… That was not nothing.” 

Why do you even care? You bite back the question as your leg continues to bounce. It didn't matter why he cared. What mattered was he was right.

That's when the it hit you...  

Paralyzing pain… Mouth sores that’ll make eating impossible. Fatigue that makes me wish I wasn’t awake. Your arms started to tremble, your leg bouncing more and more without your knowing. Vomiting up my meals, the malnutrition. the depression... I can’t escape it.. More and more thoughts flood your head, capturing all your attention.  You don't notice Law look at you in concern, opening his mouth to say your name.

You shoot out of your seat, knocking it to the floor.

“I need to go.” You rush to the door. I need to leave this room, this world, I need to go, I need to go back!

Home....

 You don't think as your legs move on their own. They're rushing you out of the room. But before you can even get to the door, Law is there. He has a hand on it, preventing you from leaving. 

“Hey-” He tried to reason with you but you weren’t having it. 

“No, please just stop.” You were shaking at this point. Pain was creeping back into your guts, expanding them, filling you with dread. You can feel your face grow paler, accompanied by patches of hot skin. “I-I need to leave.” 

“No.” Law’s gaze hardened as did his voice. His eyes scan your appearance, studying you. You hate it.

"Stop looking at me!"

“You need to tell me what’s wrong with you!”

“What’s wrong is that fact that it took me 3 years to finally get a handle on my last flare up!" Panicked words were bubbling up faster than you could suppress them. "And now all that work was for nothing because I’m relapsing!” Tears were streaming down your face. The pain was unbearable and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your shaky legs were barely holding you up even though you wanted nothing more than to collapse.

You were so happy and so healthy for the first time in so long. This couldn’t end. This couldn’t be the end!

“Let me help you.” Law insisted. His hands brush against your elbows and you snap backwards. Your knuckles were white from how hard you onto your arms. You looked like you were holding yourself up.

“You can’t-” 

“How do you know that?” He demanded. He had been doing a remarkable job holding back his emotions but they were starting to spill out too. “You won’t even let me try?!”

“You think you're the first person who wanted to try and fix me?!” The tears in your eyes made if hard to see him. “I got worse with my last doctor! And talking about all of this just reminds me of all the hell that is awaiting me because I've skipped too many doses!” Your body wracks hysterically. You lean again the wall to help you stand as pain ravages your guts. You don’t notice how Law is in front of you again until he gently grabs your hands. He lets them tremble in his.

You can't find it in yourself to stop. “For 3 years nothing worked and now I have something that works and it is about to be ruined because I’m missing too many doses because I’m in One Piece. The best thing I can do for myself is go home! I hav- I have to…” Finally, after holding all it in for so long, you break down into incoherent sobs. Law lowers your head onto his shoulder as you sob uncontrollably. He doesn't say anything. He just holds you against him, supporting you with everything he's got.

You hunch inwards, crying even harder as your insides twist in agony.

You know from much too much experience that once it starts, you can't do anything to make them better. You just had to wait the pain out.

Pathetic cries come from you as you think I can't believe I'm relapsing.

….

It takes so long for you to calm down. The pain subsided after a while but you were still crying when it did. 

It didn’t matter to Law. He was patient. Neither of you move from your spots. It's only when you let out an almost relieved sigh that he moves to lift your head up. A gentle grasp on your chin has you tilting your head up for him. And a careful look told you he was studying your features again, looking for signs you were in pain. When he didn’t find any he exhaled a sigh. 

You half expect him to spit some sort of sarcastic remark about how dramatic you’re being. But instead he asks: “Can we sit back down?”

You nod weakly and let him guide you back to the chairs. When you sit down you don’t look at him. 

But you know he’s looking at you. But he doesn't say anything. Maybe he didn't know what to say. You wouldn't blame him.

It was quiet for a long time. Just the sound of your hiccups and sniffles. 

Until finally… 

“I had a terminal illness when I was a kid.” He broke the silence. He caught your attention with that. Your eyes slid over to him, eyebrows knitted together in worry. “It didn’t really get bad until I was a teenager. But by the time I was 10 I knew I was going to die. And when the symptoms finally showed I just knew that my life was over.” His gaze was heavy and his usually sardonic smile held so much sadness in it. “I can still remember the pain. I felt like my body would give out at any moment. Everything hurt.” As he spoke his hand drifted to his chest.

He continued. “I had come to terms with my death. But... There was someone who didn’t. And that someone saved my life.” When he looks back at you his eyes brighten a little. He brings his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you forward until your forehead rests on his. “I’m not giving up on you. I know you’ve felt it too, that your life is over before it could begin. It’s not. I promise you.” 

You didn’t know what to say. 

“How.. How are you alive?” You couldn't help but ask. If his disease is terminal... He gives you a smirk. 

“I’m not lying when I tell you I’m a really good doctor.” You’re taken aback. “Is your illness terminal?” He asks and you feel his thumb draw circles on your neck. It's so calming you almost forget to answer his question.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of anyone dying because of it.” You speak truthfully. “But it could ruin my intestines and cause them to stop working…And...” The tears start to return. Oh god… 

“It’s alright,” He whispers. “That’s not going to happen.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Because I’m going to help you. I thought that was obvious.” He laughs lightly. 

"Oh... Right." For the first time since he first sat you down, you smile.

“Do we…” You sniffed as another question popped up in your head. “Do we even have the same medical knowledge? O-or vocabulary?” Law tilted his head against yours. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well... Do you remember when I said I was from a whole 'nother dimension?”

A scoff escapes from his lips. “How can I forget?” 

“Yea so… Doesn’t that mean we have different knowledge?” You leaned back out of his reach, raising your arms. “Our worlds have such different histories. That means we have different medical history right? What if I tell you and you don’t even understand?” 

“We’ll never know if you don’t tell me anything.” He gave a small smirk that was borderline infuriating. But you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad. You let out an exhausted sigh but nod. 

“...Ok. I’ll talk.” Law gives a genuine smile and gets up to grab his notepad. When he sits down again you have his full attention. 

Here we go.

It takes some time to explain your situation. You explain the name, the symptoms. You watch helplessly as Law writes down what you’re saying. 

“Are these episodes you’ve been having today normal?”

“Only when I’m flaring up. That’s the abdominal pain. It feels like something is expanding in my guts, past their limits.” 

“How do you treat your condition?” 

“With medicine.” Medicine that I am more than certain doesn’t exist here. “Every 14 days I take 80 mg over 0.8 ml of Humira or Adalimumab. It’s an injection that goes either into your thighs or your stomach.” As you recite the information you're painfully aware of how it had been since your last Humira shot. Law picks up on this but doesn’t state the obvious that you’ve been on his ship for over 4 weeks. Your leg starts bouncing again.

Law doesn't look up from his writing but says calmly "You have nothing to fear."

Your leg bounces less after hearing that. And a smile grows on his face.

When Law finishes writing you have to ask: “Did you understand anything that I said?”

“Pretty much. I mean your disease is called something else over here. But there is documentation about these symptoms in our world.” He smirked as he glances to you. “And you thought I wouldn't be able to be help.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. 

“Wait.." You pause, taking in his words. "You think you can actually help?” Law scoffs.

“I’m pretty offended you thought I couldn’t. Do you really think so little of me?” You shrugged. 

“I’ve gone through many doctors, captain. You aren’t the first person to act like you could be my savior.” He rolled his eyes and studied his notes again. 

“You mentioned not having control over your illness for 3 years. Was that when you were diagnosed?” 

For some reason that question startles you. “No, that was just when it last flared up. I've been diganosed since I was a teenager.” Law looked like his heart dropped as he looked back at you. 

“How old were you?

“13.” You try to answer as if this wasn’t the most tragic part of your story. You were just barely a teenager and your whole life got turned upside down in the span of a day. 

You could remember lying in that hospital bed. Your doctor spoke to your parents, using terms he didn’t bother to define for you. 

"Their condition is an autoimmune chronic disease. There is no cure."

It took you a few years to truly understood what that meant.

“... I was 13 when I got rid of my illness.” Law softly spoke up. Your eyes found his.

“Really?”

“Yea.” He sighed heavily. “It’s insane to think that while I was curing myself of my condition, you were just getting yours.” There’s a distant look in his eyes. “But also… How you talk about this speaks to years of experience. I’ve never had a patient tell me their treatment plan in as much detail as you can.” You give a humorless laugh. 

“What a useless skill I have.” 

“Clearly not useless.” Law scoffs lightly. "And this disease. It's a problem with your immune system?"

"Yea. It gets confused and attacks healthy cells, mistaking them for unhealthy ones. I don't know the exact science of it."

“That's fine." He reassures you. "It sounds like you just need an immune system rewrite.” You lift your head up and look at him in confusion. 

“What? To treat it I just need to block some of its functions so it doesn’t go out of control and attack everything.” You ignore the obvious that you don't know how that would work as you look at Law.

“I’m not talking about treatment.” He stands up and pats your head. “I’m talking about curing you.” The words pass through your ears and make you dizzy. 

Cure… Me? I can be cured? 

Law starts to walk away, going to a desk and rummaging through it as you process those words.

"...Why?" You speak up as you gaze in his direction. He turns to look at you.

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me? Is there a catch or something?" He looks a little perplexed, like he didn't know the answer himself. But in the end he just shrugs.

"It's nice having you on my crew. You can offer insight that no one else can, being from another universe and all."

It felt like there was more to it than that. But you don't push it.

“And you can do it? Just completely rewrite my immune system?” Law just smirked and lifted his eyebrows in a cocky manner. 

“You say our world is what… A series of comic books in your world?” 

“I mean that’s putting it mildly but yea.”

“How far did you get in those comics?” 

“Uh… Punk Hazard?” 

Law laughs lightly and looks at you. “You definitely don’t understand what I can do.” 

Author's Note:

My partner is convinced Law could fix me. So I wrote a roughly 3,249 word one shot about that fantasy. What a nice fantasy that is. Originally wrote this for ao3 but thought it might do well here. Hope you enjoyed this wildly out of character fic. It's my copium :]

[yourlocalabomination]

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.

[unicyclingdogs]

fairy rulie!!!! :)

[alterigo06]

Late to the party as always 🫡 but happy Kagerou Day, everyone 🫡

[moniehon]

They sleeping

[theallstore]

hello hello hello!! my @mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @cohnal !

words are from maize stalk drinking blood by the mountain goats + i have no idea if tumblr will keep the resolution or not so if it doesn’t this should be high res -> https://postimg.cc/wysKZc5j

[crazymecjc]

manga redraw bc I’m in a silly goofy mood

panel and version without text below the cut!

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

first draft making progress (but it still feels very scattered, as first drafts are wont to do)

[merevide]

finished the lost legacy. women’s stories matter. they just matter. also love wins

[theamazingannie]

You're 23, it's high time you learn to think critically instead of swallowing whatever rubbish your white faves throw at you. Or at least learn how to fucking tag.

I don’t know how old YOU are, but I’m guessing 14. Otherwise, it’s high time YOU learn to think critically and realize that everyone has different tastes than you. Also, it’s time to learn how to do things that bring you joy instead of coming into some stranger’s inbox (anonymously, because you’re apparently too much of a coward to share what artists YOU listen to) and insulting them.

I could go on about Taylor’s stats and the amount of beloved artists who have praised her and her songwriting. I could go on about the artists that *I* don’t like who are super popular despite being actual rapists, pedophiles, and bigots. But instead, I think I’m going to go listen to her music and have a grand time because I genuinely like it and don’t need to justify my taste to ANYONE. If you don’t like her, and this goes for anyone reading this who follows me as well, then stop talking about her, stop interacting on posts about her, and stop going after her fans because the more you talk about her, the more you’ll see her and the bigger she will be. Spend your time on the artists that you DO like and maybe they’ll be able to finally compete with Taylor. And maybe you won’t be so angry all the time over some “mediocre” white pop star.

[sapphicdib]

.

[satvrdayy]

a while back i was talking to some friends about their thanksgiving, and the big question was what insane out of pocket conversation starter that your family pulled over holiday dinner, and the general consensus was either like bigotry or borderline offensive conspiracy theories, but when it got to my turn, and they’re like “oh yeah what about you saturday?” and i was like “oh yeah um y’know………..mpreg” FOR CONTEXT i have a relatively eccentric family to say the least so there’s really no way of telling what will come out of our mouths and when or why, it’s just something you roll with; so i’m zoned out picking a cracker off the charcuterie board, my social battery is low, and i already got over the hard part (explaining why i’m not in college yet lol) when i’m curb stomped back into reality after hearing “did you guys know they’re letting men give birth now?? i think i read something about it they’re like taking hormones and everything.” PAUSE. PAUSE. i just want to know where they read this. like something tells me that this isn’t like actual news and they just ended up on a strange part of the internet and got confused? i don’t know.

[tardisteam1]

Mood for today is sad because plans I made before I became a hockey fan have made it so I can’t watch either games tonight :((