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'Keep tabs on me'. These four syllables trigger the hint of a memory, the type where only the subconscious picks up on the specifics - cloudy, snowy days on Punk Hazard, that eerie feeling being watched - while the conscious, active reaction was northing more than a shock of incredulity to the system.

The irony.

"I know enough," he grunts, a low noise something like a scoff. "I don't need to know you as a person - I only need to know for whom you chose to work, and that, Monet…I know."

His head lowers, the bill of his cap casting its typical shadow across his face. A closing off, a barrier that won't let her in closer; he'd cross his arms if the odachi wasn't held over his shoulder.

"He loves a martyr, Monet. You could have been a Donquixote saint."

The shadow lifts. Law meets her eyes with a grin. "What a waste of a perfectly good death."

[Mugiwara-verse] "You can fool them," Law growls under his breath, finally catching the woman alone after days of waiting and watching. "The Straw Hats go out of their way to see the good in others - irritatingly so, they will eat up your story...one finely crafted and carefully tuned, I've no doubt," he flicks the bill of his hat upward so that he can look directly into her owl-like eyes. "But I know /you/, Monet. I underestimated you once; shame on me. I won't make that mistake a second time."

She had been waiting for this since she had become a part of the crew. Naturally, the most mistrusting man in the world would have a lot to say about her joining the Mugiwara even if it shouldn’t be any of his damn business. But, yet again, Trafalgar Law was known for giving his unsolicited opinion just as he was known for being an antisocial grump and a miserable twit. 

Nothing to be surprised about here.

Her yellow eyes are half-lidded as he speaks, the corner of her mouth tilted upwards, finding this rather satisfying. His frustration, that anger inside of him. This would imply even less hours of sleep for a man that didn’t sleep that much to begin with. The power that he was unconsciously giving her with admitting this out loud. A power she would abuse to mess up with him- just because it amused her.

She leans closer, ever so slightly, to speak something just meant for him to hear. “You know jackshit about me, Law.” Her tongue trails along her upper lip, her gaze on his, eyes slightly squinting, measuring him, and Monet smiles. “But suit yourself. Keep tabs on me. Be my guest.” She will watch him slowly go insane and take great amusement from it.

#snxwbird

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She couldn’t help it. The tightness in her chest came out in the most unexpected way as she approached him with fast and steady steps. She slapped him, angry as she was. As she had been, with all that sadness that had turned to anger and that dissipated as his cheek reddened. “You are an idiot.” She stated, in a matter-of-fact tone, her eyes a blazing fire on his, but soon softened. She pulled him closer from that ugly feathery little number of a sweatshirt, and crushed his lips to wine with a fierce kiss.

It is a whirlwind of the senses and emotion and time played tricks on his perception - is this moment happening in a flash or is this a scene playing out with a theatrical slowness, he can't decide. It was only the sound of his pounding heartbeat that let him know that time was still moving at all.

The details...it was those milliseconds that seemed to crawl and overwhelm: upon the rise and swing of her hand, the feathers around his neck flutter with the air she pushes with her palm; the turn of his neck, just so, when her hand connects; a sharp sound followed by a dull sting; the scent of something that he can only register as her, undoubtedly and comfortingly her; her lips move, it's words he's heard before in a variety of tones; her eyes burn through where he almost feels exposed by the intensity of her gaze - a second of discomfort but not displeasure; the fabric goes taut, the weave pulls and crumples in her clenched fist; and, finally, his own quite gasp from a sharp inhale when her lips met his in a forceful, demanding kiss.

It's one he returns, and his arms slide around her waist before moving up her back and pressing tightly. The kiss breaks, taking with it the air from his lungs and he rests his face in the crook of her neck. His hat becomes loose when it pushes upward to make room for the flushness of their bodies, and to keep the bill from pushing into her he grabs it at the side, crushing it in his fist thoughtlessly in the moment.

Law stills then, and it's when he feels like his senses have caught up to the present. Her words echo so he again can relish in hearing her voice, and though his posture has a sense of rigidity to it, the embrace is so very far from something cold.

"Perhaps," the word is spoken as if he had only just woke, quiet but with a rasp. "Certainly, even. But one that is here."

#ask #snxwbird #yukionnamonet

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6 YEARS AGO WITH 6 NOTES

#ooc #this is the biggest secret i've ever kept in my life #yet the only place i can mention it is on a fucking one piece blog #it's almost funny #almost

This was 6 year ago. I fucking never got off the drugs lmao not like that wtf who was I trying to convince? Weening my ass - this was code for "I'm low and waiting to score please god fucking someone anyone call me back with good news aka pills" I was writing with many folks well over 6 years ago and I was a junkie then and stayed a junkie for a long fucking time.

But.

I got off the percs and oxys and on methadone in a MAT program- it'll be 2 years in May? June? Something like that.

Just, you know, in case you fuckers* that dealt with my ass back then were curious.

* I say this with affection

Jfc I hate being on mobile I’m just going to shut the fuck up soon but only after I give a quick update: I’m trying to get off pills for like, the twentieth time with a weening. Again. This time it’s not because I’ve run out but because I kinda want to for once. That said, I get even more flakey than I usually am, and when I DO write I tend to project - either by writing Law in a terrible mood or by living vicariously by making him high as a kite. I try to keep myself in check when it comes to writing but sometimes I fail – only -sometimes- though, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Tl,dr : I’m trying to get off drugs again and it may distort my character at times, both literally and when writing.

#first time back on my blog and its #ooc #I hope you lot are doing great

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I’ve never been more triggered in my fucking life

WHAT??? LAW IS GERMAN? AND KID IS SCOTTISH???? IM CRYING. IM IN TEARS. WHAT??? I???? CAN ONLY HEAR ACCENTS???? HELP I’M GOING TO EXPLODE I DONT KNOW HOW TO FEEL.

And I didn’t realize X. Drake’s name went by “Diez” and all I hear is Deez Nuts, help me

#I come back checking here on a whim #and this is what happens to me #fucking german #an arab name #an italian racer #but the fucker is gErMaN #brb gotta delete my entire blog #are basil and law mixed up

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@mudmanworld wrote me a fic that made me wanna draw law |D

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i like his punk hazard outfit but how he run when it’s closed up all the way????

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Here’ the result of a art collab i did with my dear Kami-sama ( @emeneska-chan ) she did the lineart and i colored it for her. I hope everyone ikes our little dead inside looking Law. <3

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Black sails, black hearts

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Inspired by this post

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One piece 20th anniversary

Trafalgar Law

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20170724 doodle

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Maybe we got lost in translation. Maybe I asked for too much.

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Trafalgar Law (One Piece)

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here’s a second outfit for the dress suit party event thingy ヾ(❀╹◡╹)ﾉ~

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ShamWTFbles

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Colored version for yesterday’s drawing.

Today’s Law

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