mistress of mischief @motherofcringe - Tumblr Blog

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Hi! I like to write and one piece has given me my chops (Choppers?) back 🖤 I do tend to be a slutty wench so 18+ is advisable 🫶

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AO3: motherofcringe

Bluesky: @ iatethedevilfruit

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#links #ao3 #writers on tumblr #one piece fanfiction #one piece fandom #fanfic writers #writer stuff

allthingswhumpyandangsty

Calling incest "taboo" when it's a literal form of abuse is not the wording I would use to defend its presence or people's interest in it on a site.

I use the word "taboo" because I only refer to "fiction", as in a taboo topic people write about in fiction. not real-life. fiction.

game of thrones has incest in it (so it is in a way taboo). and it is allowed to exist on a huge platform like hbo, because it's fiction and taboo fiction is NOT a crime.

lolita is taboo, but it's fiction, and it deserves to exist without being banned or censored.

non-con fics are taboo. because while it is vile and a crime in real life, just like incest, in fiction space where no one in real life is harmed, it is not a crime and it's legally allowed to exist and have a platform like ao3.

also no, I am not "defending the portrayal of taboo topics in fiction" even though I do love writing and reading about non-con. I am defending people's rights and freedom to create and consume whatever they want, however they want, including dark and taboo topics. as long as no one in real life is harmed.

thoughtcrimes are not real. and censorship is a fascist tool. period.

motherofcringe

It should also be said that the actual term for these things as used sociologically, anthropologically and otherwise is “taboo”

Taboo is a spectrum and the umbrella term for all things “forbidden” in any given society is literally the word taboo.

I’m not here to defend or criticize taboo topics in fiction and it should be acknowledged this is literal academic terminology.

#I should keep this specifically fiction writing #but unfortunately this is my field of study #taboo by definition is that which is forbidden #it’s not some cutesy term #it is a sociological cultural anthropological term #an academic term #discourse

Zoro hadn’t been avoiding Sanji, per se, but he’d tried to keep a diplomatic amount of space between them while maintaining some sort of normal interaction. He didn’t feel weird about what had happened between them, rather he was worried that Sanji might feel weird about it all. Judging by Sanji’s reaction, he was correct in his assessment and so he kept a distance until or unless he could know all was well.

He didn’t want to assume that they’d unlocked some new way of being together, that all of a sudden everything was going to be different. Not when the morning after, he’d woken up alone and the cook had acted like nothing had happened whatsoever in an almost embarrassing denial of what everyone had witnessed between them. He waited for a sign from Sanji during the breakfast immediately after all that, a sign denied him then and during lunch, dinner, snack, the subsequent day after and the day after that. Approaching the fourth day after the events of that island, the island itself long gone behind them, Zoro was still playing a game of waiting, waiting for Sanji to say something, waiting for Sanji to make a move, waiting for some sort of clarification. He could suspect what that clarification would be, nothing good, he just wanted more. More, he was reasonably certain, he would not have and thus had to relinquish regardless of the fleeting moment he’d let himself slip and take. Want wasn’t enough to change the path that one was destined to walk, it was just another obstacle to be trained out of the undisciplined heart. Especially when it was a want unrequited.

Even with his mind focused on overcoming such frivolous attempts at connection, waiting was a kind of pain he couldn’t out-train, he couldn’t shake off, he couldn’t drink away. There were only snide comments like the cook always made toward Zoro, but they were toothless and he never followed with brawling like they used to. It seemed like everyone was content to assume the lack of petty bickering between them meant they’d unlocked some fantastic new level in their relationship, but Zoro knew what it was when the rage would flicker on Sanji’s face and he’d restrain himself, disgust flashing briefly before he’d fake a laugh and wave Zoro away as though he cared too much to fight. And then Zoro would slink to the bird’s nest with whatever energy lingered inside of him where he’d physically push himself into collapsing so he didn’t break down in front of anyone but himself. It was hell the way an accidental brush of limbs between himself and Sanji would set Zoro’s body ablaze, warmth spreading from the point of contact and traitorously flipping his stomach. Passion and desire burning through him like his heart and belly were full of fireworks and butterflies only to have it all dissipate and settle like a thousand ton weight in his chest. The first time it happened during a meal, he’d coughed and excused himself. He let them think he was drunk, earning an earful from Nami on behalf of Sanji, having the cook cut his ration of booze at precisely the time when he needed them most. The second time it happened, he controlled himself better, only moderating his breath and carrying on like nothing even if he hurriedly ate his food and slipped away at the first opportunity. The third time, the ache never left, both a blessing that he would no longer be shocked with its sudden presence, and a curse in that it choked him constantly even under the most mundane of circumstances.

Today, though, he lingered at the door to the galley, torn between his desire for booze and his need to avoid the cook until the cook would stop avoiding him. The booze was the only thing that tempered the crippling ache in his heart, somehow and for some reason making it manageable. He took a breath, slow and steadying, mentally preparing himself for what awkwardness would inevitably follow. It sounded, though, that Sanji wasn’t alone, he was talking to Usopp and, for a brief and stupid moment, Zoro was jealous of the sniper being able to freely chat with Sanji like he was. And then Zoro was possessed with curiosity as his sense returned to him not to reside in jealousy that he himself had caused by being difficult toward Sanji for so long and by avoiding the cook as much as the cook was avoiding him. Or so he took responsibility for their relationship, or so he told himself.

“So…” Usopp prodded. “You and Zoro had a lot of fun the other night.”

“Ugh,” Sanji groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“I mean you seemed like you were having a good time,” Usopp replied.

“Yeah well I was totally wasted.”

“But you remember?”

“It was a weird herb or something. Chopper explained it but I was hungover.”

“Right.”

“Ask him!”

“But you were… very interested in Zoro…”

Zoro could hear Sanji make a choked noise of frustration maybe disapproval. Either way, it clearly put sound to the unwanted nature of the experience between them. The same experience Zoro had found rather delightful despite its initial strangeness.

“I couldn’t control myself, I just really wanted to be around him,” Sanji said dismissively.

“But…?”

“But I woke up and everything I did came back to me. It was so damn embarrassing! Once I sobered up I thought I was going to be sick. I still can’t believe there would be any part of me who wanted to be around that green idiot like I was.”

“No part of you at all, huh?” Usopp didn’t sound like he believed Sanji and that was fair because Zoro had his doubts as well. Rather, it had been so good, Zoro clung to the anachronism like a buoy, refusing to let his feelings sink into the depths that he’d pulled them from.

“I wouldn’t even know where to look in myself if I believed it existed.”

There was a pregnant silence between them, one that made Zoro want to retreat without the booze. A silence that reminded him how stupid his lurking was. A silence that felt like a weapon aimed at Zoro even though neither knew he was there.

“I feel bad,” Sanji broke the quiet between them. “I think… I led Zoro on. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… in control of myself.”

In a way, it was relief to hear Sanji’s true thoughts, truth that meant Zoro could lay it all to rest. And yet, in another more consuming way, hearing Sanji’s words ripped through Zoro’s body like daggers, leaving him raw and exhausted. Zoro knew, intellectually, that Sanji hadn’t meant anything from his actions. Even in the midst of it, Zoro knew that pursuing more would hurt him deeply and endlessly because it was rooted in something fake, uncontrollable. Sanji hadn’t led Zoro on, Zoro had just been too desperate to stop him. As much as it might feel good to blame the cook, this was Zoro’s fault. That Sanji would beat himself up over something Zoro had let him do… they could have fixed it. But why would they? Why would the cook want to talk to him after everything?

Usopp snorted a laugh..

“Zoro? Our Zoro? Lead him on? Don’t you think he’s just as weirded out by the whole thing as you are?”

Zoro didn’t have to see Sanji’s face to hear the gears of his mind turning, to know he hadn’t thought that perhaps Zoro would share his sentiments. It wrecked Zoro all over again to know that Sanji knew him better than he’d thought to correctly assume that everything had meant something to Zoro. How could Usopp know? How could he understand? And still, the indescribable pain Zoro now felt from knowing this intimacy was nothing but a mistake between them threatened his sanity. Zoro would let them believe he was just another guy like they were, his secret want would die with him, he would quietly hold it in his heart as little more than an odd recounting of their time on the Grand Line.

“I can’t believe you never thought of that,” Usopp laughed, incredulous at the cook’s arrogance.

It was arrogant to think Sanji was so special that Zoro would fall for him after a night of debauchery, but it was true, even if Zoro would take that truth to the grave.

“Isn’t he… you know…”

“No,” Usopp replied. “At least I don’t think so. What gave you that idea?”

“I don’t know. I guess after the other day I just thought… well shit.”

“He was messed up too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So…?”

“So I’ve been worrying over nothing.”

“Seems like.”

Zoro never got his booze. He slunk off, praying to the gods he didn’t believe in that his face showed none of the feeling his heart was presently trying to break from his chest with. If there was a god, surely it or they would grant him this one tiny kindness. But he couldn’t imagine such divinity punishing anyone like the world seemed hellbent on punishing Zoro whenever it came to love.

——————

“Hey,” Sanji said, peeking his head into the bird’s nest.

Zoro regretted the flip his heart did not only because it felt like a betrayal but because it left such devastating ache behind it.

“Sup,” he replied, with practiced impassivity, a lie that made him feel a bit guilty for judging Usopp so harshly all this time.

“Uh… well… I brought food,” Sanji offered. Onigiri, Zoro’s favorite. A pathetic peace offering only because it hurt more than Sanji would ever know to receive something he was supposed to feel nothing about.

“Thanks,” he replied in as genuine a tone as he could muster.

There was, then, an awkward nothingness as Sanji stayed waiting for Zoro to say something and Zoro sat waiting for Sanji to leave or say his piece. He already knew what was coming but to rush it along or procrastinate made no difference for the inevitable pain promised at the end of the conversation.

“So about the other night…” Sanji started. He let his words trail off as he scratched his head nervously, tussling his hair in a regrettably attractive manner.

“Oh that?” Zoro lied again, pretending it was nothing but another silly excursion that meant nothing. “I was so wasted… I… I’m sorry.”

A lie. He hadn’t been sorry until he realized it was unwanted. Sanji let out a relieved exhale, like he’d been carrying a heavy burden Zoro had lifted from his chest.

“Oh fuck, me too,” he replied. The cook sat down and smiled widely. It was bittersweet to see him so happy and relieved while all the anxiety and grief seemed to place itself on Zoro’s shoulders instead.

“I was so nervous,” Sanji continued, lighting a cigarette like he’d done after they’d fooled around, a mechanism of relief that seemed oddly familiar while being devastatingly contrary to where they now stood. “So nervous that I’d led you on or given you the wrong message…”

Zoro couldn’t handle it if he said more so he plastered his best smile on his face pretending at relief, mirroring the cook’s emotions. “I’m so glad you said it.” Ache. “I thought you liked women and didn’t know how to…”

“No I get it,” Sanji laughed. “I do. I don’t even know what came over me.”

“Just that awful shit, right? Because same.”

“I’m so glad you feel the same.”

“Me too.”

Zoro could feel the lack of tension from Sanji, and he wanted desperately to end this conversation before the tension he felt inside him made itself known. Please leave, please leave, please leave, please leave… Zoro would do something like lift weights to make it seem like he’d been interrupted, but his body felt like his bones had turned to tears and moving would have him writhe on the ground in nauseous pain.

“Ah well, I should let you do your thing,” Sanji tussled his hair and stamped out his cigarette.

“It’s fine,” Zoro replied. It was fine, he wasn’t doing anything, but mostly he didn’t know what to say, what would he normally say? An insult? Something quippy, to the point! Everything hurt too much to think of a proper response, forged in the habit of their old relationship.

Sanji smiled, an easy, happy smile that Zoro filed away under things he’d never have, “don’t forget to eat, Mosshead.”

And then he was gone. Gone again. Everything was like it had never happened and Zoro had to bury the almosts and maybes under the mountain of “never agains” that he’d collected at far too young an age.

Once he was sure of his solitude, he let out a heavy sigh, laced with the stilted breath of pain that refused to leave his chest these days, the yearning that had taken up residence where hope had been a brief but wanted companion.

“Zoro,” a voice interrupted his emptiness. It was Robin. As much as he tried not to be startled, he was very much aware she’d caught him unaware and he jerked in surprise toward her voice. She didn’t chuckle or smile, she simply sat, opposite where Sanji had sat before like she was leaving the space open on purpose. Knowing her, perhaps she’d seen it all and had chosen as much intentionally.

“Didn’t hear you,” he offered, a pathetic response he both didn’t need to make and could not divert her pointed attention with.

“Are you alright?”

He winced to himself, away from her face. No, he wasn’t alright. He was the same but cracked open in a way that sucked. He didn’t know when he could confidently plaster over the wound that ached in him these days.

“‘M fine. Why?”

“The other night…”

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Please.”

She stopped and nodded, solemn, understanding. “I’m here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Of course.”

And then she was gone. He could have talked to her, he could have said something, been honest. But that would mean chasing after a reality he would never have, opening himself up for what? Falling for someone he knew would never see him that way was like throwing yourself into a battle you couldn’t win. The injuries he now felt were from his own actions, the stupidity and hubris of believing that someone like Sanji could ever fall for someone like Zoro except when they were completely under the influence.

He had no choice but to figure out how to end the ache, an ache for a love that was never his even under the most unbelievable circumstances that seemed to imply otherwise.

He wished that Sanji had left booze when he’d dropped off the food that Zoro hardly had a stomach to even look at. And then he silently thanked Robin for being the person she was, having left him a bottle in her wake.

It was hardly a reprieve, but it dampened the sharp edges of his grief, it was the only thing that could.

#zosan #one piece zosan #one piece fanfiction #sanji #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #hurt no comfort #wip

I think about how Zoro was effectively orphaned by age 8, how his closest friend was Kuina and she was the only reprieve he had from having nothing to do and no where to go. Sure the village may have ensured he had food and such, but he was at the mercy of kindness less adopted into someone’s care.

And then she was gone.

He’s been on his own most of his conscious life and certainly came of age similarly. It isn’t expanded on how close his relationship to Kyoushiro is beyond the dojo which one imagines consumed most of Zoro’s free time for at least the better part of a decade. And then he would go home and sleep alone in a space with no one else in it.

At his core, I think Zoro is a deeply lonely person and because he knows the intimacy of being connected to someone who can, and has in his experience, be taken away at any point, he is hesitant to get close to others. It’s human, though, to become close to people despite yourself, to develop friendships and camaraderie even when you prefer to keep yourself at arms distance.

And Zoro is difficult and brash, the childishness in him, the rough edges having never been smoothed out because no one was really there to do it. Even what behavior he’d learn at the dojo is ideal for a swordsman to embody, there is a limit to who is going to enforce that outside the dojos walls, who will check his manners and demand his behavior fulfill any duty, a kind of practiced blind eye and permissiveness because of his status of orphan.

And then you have a character like Sanji. Sanji is deeply connected in a community - the Baratie- talking to regulars (the girls) who clearly enjoy him, acting petulant and bratty and having the head chef handle his outbursts but still keep him employed. It’s clear that Sanji is important and indispensable, even as Zeff puts on a show trying to push Sanji to chase his dreams, it’s clearly that: a show.

One wonders what Zoro’s day of leaving his island looked like in comparison.

And yet Sanji cannot and or refuses to see his worth. He refuses to accept love and acknowledgement instead trying to hide behind platitudes and insults, ready to sacrifice himself at any turn as though no one would miss him.

One has to imagine that this simultaneously wounds someone like Zoro deeply to witness while triggering inside of him something detestable— perhaps a jealousy he can’t even peg as such.

Because Zoro is still difficult. He’s often misunderstood by even the people he spends countless days and hours and space with. When Vivi left, everyone called him mean for being practical, and surely he felt the hole too, but his practicality is born of necessity. Being any other way when life is not assured is dangerous, reckless. He is pragmatism born of necessity.

So then you have something like Thriller Bark, where again, Sanji recklessly throws himself in front of Zoro trying to negate his worth to the crew. There may be no better swordsman that would accompany Luffy and aid in the realization of Luffy’s dreams. But that isn’t what Sanji says: he says he won’t be missed. That no one needs him, that no one would care if he were gone.

Sanji is surrounded by people who adore him and would mourn him and yet he can’t see his value in their eyes. He can’t see how much he matters to them. Selflessness as self denial.

Zoro has had to choose in a world to which he has no meaningful ties, to show up endlessly and choose life. To compare this decision against the cook who shows up endlessly in a world full of meaningful ties who chooses death. It is as if Sanji is always flinging himself in front of the sword that Zoro is always choosing to fight off death itself to wield.

One wonders the pain in seeing someone so capable and adored constantly sabotage their joy and happiness by believing themselves to be irredeemable and dispensable despite all the evidence to the contrary. To see that no matter how much you could love them as friend or rival or anything else, it will be little more than a footnote to justify chasing ruination under the guise of protection.

#one piece thoughts #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #blackleg sanji #one piece characters

I effed up my last story continuation lol jumped over a scene by accident. C’est la vie - shall have to block out time to properly fic this

motherofcringe

A storm the likes of which they’d just sailed through was to be expected, the ocean was full of them even if mostly peaceful days of sailing were the norm. Unfortunately the storm they’d experienced had come with damages the crew was taking into account.

“Franky, one of these cargo containers smashed the lockers,” Usopp called.

“Bummer,” Franky came trotting into the room to survey the damage, making a note on his list of necessary repairs. “Damn, looks like it took out… Sanji bro’s locker?”

“Yeah…” Usopp replied gathering up Sanji’s belongings with a skeptical eye.

There were a few cookbooks, at least three journals, and an almost comical amount of smut mags. It wasn’t shocking considering Chopper had discovered as much awhile ago and subsequently relayed the information to the crew. What was presently surprising to Usopp was exactly which smut mags he was finding amongst the mess.

“If you don’t mind helping Sanji bro out, I’ll go take stock of the rest of the damage,” said Franky.

“You got it!”

They parted ways and Usopp collected Sanji’s things into a pile, quietly wondering just what the hell. He picked up another magazine with two men on the cover, naked and embracing each other. Maybe one or two would have been a random accident, but Usopp had found more than that mixed in with the sexy women magazines. It was enlightening, perhaps. Confusing, assuredly. As though the cook could sense the disturbance, Sanji came wandering into the room.

“Damn this room got hit pretty bad,” he remarked casually. Sanji kicked a splintered piece of crate aside. “Whose locker got totally trashed?” He laughed. Usopp looked up at him sympathetically while placing the last magazine cover down on to the stack he’d cultivated.

Sanji’s face went white as he realized whose locker had gotten “totally trashed”, his eyes darting to the stack of magazines Usopp had collected, his journals, and odds and ends placed nearby.

“Well shit,” Sanji exhaled with a laugh. It was forced and he was trying to cover for a level of mortification radiating off of him that Usopp had yet to see from the cook.

“Some of those I bought by accident…” Sanji hedged at the same time Usopp blurted, “I didn’t see anything!”

“Yeah okay, cool,” Sanji sighed at the same time Usopp replied, “of course, it happens.”

They both remained in a stand off of sorts— Sanji awkwardly standing over Usopp uncomfortably sitting next to his pile of things. Usopp scratched his head and broke the silence.

“So, I’ll get you a box.”

“Thanks.”

They didn’t speak further about what Usopp took to calling “the Locker Incident” in his mind.

————

Days later…

Usopp, and more specifically Franky, had finished the repairs around the ship. In the case of this last repair, Usopp figured he’d personally let Sanji know being that it was his locker that was fixed.

He sidled up next to Sanji, who was leaning over the banister outside the galley, casually smoking.

“Hey,” Usopp said in his usual, friendly tone.

“I wasn’t staring!” Sanji blurted, his face going red and his body turning rigid like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He eyed Usopp suspiciously as though his whole presence had been only to catch Sanji in the act of whatever he’d been doing— apparently “not staring.”

Usopp’s eyes traveled in the direction Sanji had been looking to Zoro, shirtless, in impressively small and tight shorts, lifting weights. Usopp turned back toward Sanji who looked like he might kick his ass. Even if Usopp had tried to catch him (he hadn’t!) Sanji’s kicks were terrifying— this was precisely the kind of situation Usopp would rather die than be in.

“Uh… I didn’t… I…” Usopp stammered. “Your locker is fixed. Just… wanted to let you… uh… know.”

“Oh, right,” Sanji scratched his head and exhaled a puff of smoke. “Right. My locker. Thanks.”

Again Usopp found himself in an awkward stand-off with Sanji. Sanji who didn’t want to address his knee-jerk comment, Usopp who didn’t want to address it either, both of them dancing around a shared common knowledge that Sanji clearly didn’t want exposed.

“I should… go… cook. Food. Lunch. I mean… snack,” Sanji backed slowly toward the galley.

“Yeah, I… have things to do… as well,” Usopp laughed nervously.

He stood, watching Sanji slink off to the kitchen, an unease settling in his stomach. He should have said something but instead he let the awkwardness shock him into silence. He turned to watch Zoro continuing his exercises and contemplated this new realization about the cook that seemed to be forcing itself into Usopp’s awareness.

Sure Zoro was impressive, Usopp was endlessly in awe of his physical ability and technical prowess not to mention his willingness to put himself in danger first even before Luffy (who was equally impressive and just as fearless). But for as much as Usopp admired Zoro, he wasn’t interested like that. And before a few days ago, he wouldn’t have ever even for a second thought Sanji would be either.

Even the magazines of gay men in scandalous positions Usopp was willing to believe were actually an accidental purchase Sanji was too embarrassed to deal with. If Usopp had done the same, he might have held on to them too, shoving them in his locker to deal with when no one was around which almost never happened. He was more than content to let that be what Sanji said it was. But now…

Usopp was going to say something.

————

The next evening…

Usopp had actually decided against saying anything at all when Sanji had practically exploded into rage when he’d gone off on Zoro for seemingly no reason— Usopp could guess— and Zoro had remarked “damn cook, you got a dick up your ass or what.” See, whether Zoro had his own suspicions about Sanji, Usopp couldn’t guess. His money was on Zoro just being Zoro and trying to find the most irritating thing to say to Sanji to set him off. And it worked. But if Zoro had noticed how Sanji’s cheeks reddened when Zoro brushed against him, how Sanji slipped him a second plate of food leaving everyone else in the lurch, or how he let the swordsman have two bottles of sake instead of one, Usopp wasn’t sure. And he also wasn’t sure if Zoro interpreted that as special favors or just the cook being in a good mood. Even when Sanji had lost his shit about “dick in the ass”, he had more of a panic that resulted in him leaving the kitchen entirely and locking himself in the bathroom (after kicking Zoro’s ass, of course) than anger. No one but Usopp seemed to notice and that’d be fine if Usopp hadn’t been assigned clean up on Sanji’s behalf while he had his meltdown in the bath.

When Usopp was almost finished cleaning, Sanji returned to the galley. He clearly expected no one to be in the kitchen as he loosened his tie and exhaled.

“What are you doing here,” Sanji snapped at becoming aware of Usopp’s unfortunate presence.

motherofcringe

“Hey man,” Usopp said to him, tentatively creeping forward and intentionally making his energy small and affable.

“What is it Usopp,” Sanji replied flatly. He was clearly not in the mood.

“Just seeing how you’re doing… just lately…”

“I’m fine.”

Usopp sucked a breath in. Sanji might have been fine in that he could manage himself and no one would be any the wiser but he was clearly not fine in that he was flipping out every time Usopp came within five feet of him. He briefly considered accepting Sanji’s lackluster performance and leaving the space with a thumbs up, but decided to follow through on his initial plan of reluctant confrontation.

“Yeah… you say that but earlier…”

“What about earlier?” Sanji raised an eyebrow and leaned toward Usopp threateningly.

Usopp knew him well enough to ignore the threat he was trying to pose, acting like some bird fluffing its feathers to appear bigger, but he didn’t like it all the same.

“Listen I just wanna say if a guy likes guys it’s no big deal. No one would think less of you if that were you, in fact we— the ship, the crew— wouldn’t care at all. Well… we might care a little because of how you’re… you know…” Usopp let the words spill out of himself like a broken faucet until the word “pervert” seemed to stick in his mouth blocking the rest. Sanji looked unamused and irritated but he didn’t seem to deny anything just yet so Usopp took it as an encouraging sign.

“No, I don’t know,” Sanji replied terse and flat. Usopp waved his hand dismissively around the word and hemmed and hawed until Sanji snapped, “I don’t know so say this thing I supposedly am or—”

“A pervert!”

Shock appeared on Sanji’s face briefly before he frowned and turned away from Usopp sullenly. He continued prepping whatever it was that he had been working on, something Usopp noted with a sense of anxiety being that he was prodding a sensitive subject while the person in question was holding a very sharp knife.

“But it’s fine. It’s fine! So what? You’re great anyway, and sometimes being a pervert toward women is a classic overcompensation thing or trying to perform heterosexuality so that no one thinks you’re gay or into men — I guess you could be bisexual too. Are you bisexual? Or pansexual— I suppose they’re similar enough even though bisexuality can cover the same stuff as pan— are they interchangeable? Which… well… It doesn’t matter. Some people think men loving men is… not manly but they’re ignorant and stupid and you shouldn’t let that influence you if you’re into men, especially Zoro because I mean… he’s like the epitome of manliness…”

Sanji slammed his hands on the counter and Usopp shut his mouth quick and straightened nervously. He hadn’t meant to word vomit, nor had he meant to be so direct…

“Is there a point to this!”

Sanji’s face was red and his voice was tense and squeaky. Usopp hadn’t meant to upset him though in retrospect he would have probably upset him by the subject matter alone, never mind the cornering him in the kitchen bit.

“I don’t know. If you wanna talk, I’m here.”

Sanji didn’t turn around or say anything in reply, he stood there with his hands still beside him, unmoving. It was a strange moment where Usopp was unsure whether to close the gap and comfort him or leave or…

“I just don’t know,” Sanji sighed. He still faced away from Usopp but at least he was talking. “I guess it’s always been there but recently…”

Sanji moved his hand to his face and covered his eyes. Usopp prayed silently that he wasn’t crying, he had no idea what he would do if Sanji started crying— what do you even do? With girls or kids it was one thing, but someone like Sanji… then again he was pretty emotional anyway…

“And with that fucking idiot gorilla brained algae bastard…” Sanji grumbled and then sighed. It was weird to hear a sigh come from him that was almost like what he’d give for Nami or Robin.

“I mean Zoro is attractive…” Usopp tried to agree.

Sanji shot him a glare through teary eyes with fear streaked cheeks. Unfortunate he had been crying which now meant Usopp felt he had to comfort him but even more unfortunate that Sanji seemed to think Usopp was competition? This was the worst. He shot up his hands and waved them like a wall between the idea and himself.

“No no, I’m just saying— I’m not interested in him like that— like, at all! If I was, he’d be an obvious choice. Well either of you — you’re an attractive man too— I’m sure you know that… but I’m not interested! Not even a little! I like girls,” he choked. Sanji didn’t seem comforted by Usopp underscoring how he liked girls and it struck him that he was probably thinking Usopp might be into Nami, “girls but not Nami. Or Robin. Kaya… from my town… I like Kaya. So I like girl. One girl. No others. I don’t even look at them unless it’s Kaya…”

That seemed to assuage Sanji’s anger and Usopp let out a relieved breath.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji replied.

Usopp could think of a few reasons why Sanji would have cause to apologize, the primary of which he’d call “giving Usopp a heart attack every five minutes” but he wasn’t about to touch that. The longer this conversation drew on, the more he regretted trying to initiate it to begin with. Foolishly he’d thought it would be helpful. And in ways, it had been, but at what cost? At what cost!

“Hey man, it’s okay! No worries! I mean, a few worries but they’re not worries any more!”

Sanji laughed and continued like he hadn’t heard Usopp, “I mean, as if you’d be competition for Zoro’s attention.”

“Hey…”

“Ridiculous to get jealous over that,” Sanji said to himself.

“Dude.”

“What if that’s what guys are in to, though… What if that’s what Zoro is into…”

“I’m right here, you know…”

“Do you think Zoro likes helpless men who are scared over everything and can’t protect themselves?” Sanji asked him, turning to face him with a look of genuine curiosity and anxiousness on his face.

“Okay, first of all, rude. I am very much not helpless and can protect myself. Second of all, the better question is if Zoro likes men.”

“Ah shit, you’re right.” Sanji frowned and then slid onto the floor like his bones had turned to jelly. He buried his face in his hands, “fuck! I’m so stupid!”

Now Usopp really didn’t know what to do. Other people’s existential crises were not really his forte when it came to providing comfort and relief— he could barely do that for himself half the time.

“You’re not stupid, a crush is a crush,” he offered pathetically. It felt like a woefully insufficient salve for whatever Sanji was feeling. “Besides, I’ve never seen Zoro pay attention to any girl beyond saving them. He seems to prefer the company of men which… I guess could be for reasons that could work in your favor…”

“You think he’s gay?” Sanji looked up hopefully.

“I… maybe?”

That seemed to provide Sanji with enough hope and confidence that he rose from the ground and resumed his usual demeanor. Now Usopp wondered how much of that was an act but tried to shove that unhelpful thought from his mind.

“Forget I said anything,” Sanji said.

This felt like an audacious request that Usopp wanted to argue about considering everything that had just happened but he wasn’t about to get into it.

“Sure.”

“I’m serious. I don’t want anyone to know.”

“You got it.”

“I’ll gut you like a fish if you say a single word!” Sanji waved the knife in his hand menacingly at Usopp. He should have been terrified but he was just annoyed now. Being gutted by a skilled cook sounded like an easy fix to whatever lay ahead as the keeper of Sanji’s secret and the chaos that was sure to ensue.

“Yeah, yeah, gut like a fish. Got it.”

“Good.”

Perhaps a word of comfort or a promise of assistance— wingmanning for the love struck Sanji— would have been good, but Usopp just sighed and left. Sanji didn’t offer up anything else before Usopp left either. And so, for now, Usopp continued with this unwanted knowledge, no closer to any kind of solution or relief. It all felt like quicksand sucking him in deeper, each interaction revealing another layer of a picture he hadn’t meant to see.

#adding more #op sanzo #sanzo #Usopp pov #one piece zosan #many wip I think this would be a fun fic #I just try to get little snippets out as writing practice and for anyone who might enjoy #always love to hear thoughts #🖤

sleepisoverrated

Hi! I am not dead! Would you believe that?! But my first year at uni started, so by Christmas I'll probably be done in!

Anyways I did a thing! That thing is Zoros love of being stepped on by foulmouthed blonde!

Enjoy it while it lasts! I'm not gonna be posting often, now that I have to focus on uni!

Inspo:

eldritch-herald

It had to be done, I couldn’t let it go

“Franky, one of these cargo containers smashed the lockers,” Usopp called.

“Bummer,” Franky came trotting into the room to survey the damage, making a note on his list of necessary repairs. “Damn, looks like it took out… Sanji bro’s locker?”

“Yeah…” Usopp replied gathering up Sanji’s belongings with a skeptical eye.

“If you don’t mind helping Sanji bro out, I’ll go take stock of the rest of the damage,” said Franky.

“You got it!”

Sanji’s face went white as he realized whose locker had gotten “totally trashed”, his eyes darting to the stack of magazines Usopp had collected, his journals, and odds and ends placed nearby.

“Well shit,” Sanji exhaled with a laugh. It was forced and he was trying to cover for a level of mortification radiating off of him that Usopp had yet to see from the cook.

“Some of those I bought by accident…” Sanji hedged at the same time Usopp blurted, “I didn’t see anything!”

“Yeah okay, cool,” Sanji sighed at the same time Usopp replied, “of course, it happens.”

They both remained in a stand off of sorts— Sanji awkwardly standing over Usopp uncomfortably sitting next to his pile of things. Usopp scratched his head and broke the silence.

“So, I’ll get you a box.”

“Thanks.”

They didn’t speak further about what Usopp took to calling “the Locker Incident” in his mind.

————

Days later…

He sidled up next to Sanji, who was leaning over the banister outside the galley, casually smoking.

“Hey,” Usopp said in his usual, friendly tone.

“Uh… I didn’t… I…” Usopp stammered. “Your locker is fixed. Just… wanted to let you… uh… know.”

“Oh, right,” Sanji scratched his head and exhaled a puff of smoke. “Right. My locker. Thanks.”

“I should… go… cook. Food. Lunch. I mean… snack,” Sanji backed slowly toward the galley.

“Yeah, I… have things to do… as well,” Usopp laughed nervously.

Usopp was going to say something.

————

The next evening…

When Usopp was almost finished cleaning, Sanji returned to the galley. He clearly expected no one to be in the kitchen as he loosened his tie and exhaled.

“What are you doing here,” Sanji snapped at becoming aware of Usopp’s unfortunate presence.

#I’m too tired to finish rn but anyway I hope you like 🖤#pov usopp #one piece zosan #one piece fanfiction #sanji #zoro x sanji #black leg sanji #zosan

motherofcringe

“Wait… WHAT?” Sanji balked. Internally he was losing his mind, externally he was hardly concealing that he was losing his mind. It didn’t help he spilled coffee on his suit from jerking his hand in shock, either.

“Are you surprised?” Usopp replied. He eyed Sanji suspiciously, clearly not expecting the intense response he’d gotten from divulging his gossip.

Now Sanji had a predicament: how exactly would he address his total shock without giving away his discomfort? How could he maintain the facade he’d created without breaking it?

“Well…” Sanji hedged. He had no idea what to say. “When did this happen?”

Usopp shrugged, unconcerned with the situation but just wanting to gossip— how annoying. “After Punk Hazard I guess. Definitely since Dressrosa.”

How hadn’t Sanji noticed anything? This was even more infuriating to hear. Especially if this had happened in Dressrosa when he’d left to go protect Nami against Big Mom. Not like the rest had an easy time against Doflamingo, but still. And if they were in Zou together, Sanji had even less cause to say a word considering what he’d done— even if it were well intentioned.

“I can’t believe you’re shocked, you were with us for most of that,” Usopp added.

“I’m not… shocked. Just… concerned.”

It was a lie. Sanji was shocked and disappointed for some reason and then he was concerned because concern was easier than admitting the kind of emotions swirling inside of him right now.

“I guess you wouldn’t pay attention to it— it’s not like Traffy is an outspoken guy and you and Zoro ignore each other unless you’re fighting.”

That implication stung. He paid attention to Zoro more than when he was fighting the bastard. They were friends, weren’t they? Sure they could be nicer to each other, but… how had this slipped his awareness?

“I mean when would they even… you know…” Sanji waved his hand, chuckling nervously.

“Ah, our cook just found out about our ally and the swordsman?” Robin’s sweet voice sounded as she came into the kitchen area.

“Apparently he had no idea,” Usopp replied in a scandalized tone.

Robin chuckled to herself and poured some coffee. “Must have been quite the surprise.”

“Well yeah, how can we even know if Law is trustworthy,” Sanji said. He was now going to make Law his problem and find fault with everything the bastard did. That was going to be his modus operandi going forward— if the bastard couldn’t take it, then he’d know he was trash.

“Well if Zoro trusts him, he can’t be that bad,” Usopp said.

“Well Zoro is sleeping with him so he can’t be trusted to judge him fairly,” Sanji retorted. He tried to seem flippant and smug but he was afraid he revealed too much about his true sentiments.

Robin considered him before speaking, “perhaps. Though swordsman-san doesn’t choose any of his acquaintances lightly. And our captain seems to think quite highly of Traffy.”

“Yeah, Traffy saved his life,” Usopp added.

Sanji hated that she had a point. He actually hated this whole conversation. Zoro sleeping with Trafalgar. How damn annoying and irritating and shitty.

“Whatever,” Sanji huffed. “It’s just… convenient. Traffy needs our help and Luffy owes him a favor and he starts seducing Zoro… doesn’t that bother anyone else?”

Usopp and Robin made noises of protest over Sanji’s framing of events. He knew he was bullshitting, maybe even trying to manipulate their perspectives for his own benefit, but it wasn’t malice driving him. He felt he’d lost something and that feeling upset him in ways he couldn’t understand and didn’t want to feel.

“Zoro seems happy,” Robin said softly, contemplatively.

“Well good for him. The rest of us are worried about fighting an Emperor but at least the mosshead is happy.”

Robin smiled knowingly and pat Sanji on the back, “I’m sure things will work out for the best.” She took her coffee and left the kitchen.

Usopp sat awkwardly before getting up as well, making a half hearted excuse about needing to get his sniper things together. Wasn’t he supposed to be worried about some balm! He couldn’t even give Sanji a good lie…

And to boot, the idiot swordsman was missing. Sanji couldn’t even confront him directly and ask him what the hell was going on. He had to sit and think about this fool’s sex life until or unless they crossed paths again. He had to stew in his own feelings and frustrations, thinking about how he felt a kind of gross and unsettling grief, like he’d missed out. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Realizing there was something akin to jealousy settling in him made him want to riot and the best he had to do was wait for Law of all people to tell them what to do while Zoro stayed M.I.A..

☕️.

motherofcringe

While Sanji played the role of humble store clerk making soba for beautiful women, his mind kept returning to Zoro and Law. It pissed him off that Zoro was hooking up with Law— or so Usopp had said and Robin implied. Everyone else shrugged it off like it was nothing except for Luffy who clearly didn’t care if he had any idea at all.

That wasn’t true.

When Sanji had mentioned the whole thing to Luffy trying to get more information, Luffy had laughed like he thought it was hilarious and given Sanji the even less clarifying response of: “that Traffy is one funny guy.”

What did that even mean!

The absence of the swordsman and this humdrum laying low for days gave Sanji too much time to think. Life was somehow slower in Wano despite the bustle of the Flower Capital and making preparations to take down Orochi and Kaidou. In between those moments, though. Sanji could only think about this Zoro and Law thing. Why Law?

The question plagued him because the answer was obvious: Law was willing and so was Zoro. Sanji liked women— or at least that’s what he shoved in Zoro’s face and down his throat relentlessly. And while Sanji was mocking and chastising Zoro, Sanji noted that Law had treated him with respect.

“Come to think of it, he doesn’t call anyone by their name except Zoro… and the girls…” Sanji mumbled to himself.

But Zoro had never let on that he was interested in anyone, that he had any preferences at all. It made no sense. Then again, Sanji could remember the way Zoro would always ignore women to drink with men, how he would get close with men but be annoyed when women hung themselves all over him.

But why not me, was the thought that gurgled beneath the surface of what he was willing to contemplate consciously. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he felt jealous of Law. He felt disappointed that Zoro wouldn’t be pining after himself instead. He knew he’d given the swordsman no reason to do anything but hold contempt for him. He couldn’t even imagine an alternative way of interacting with Zoro while he was so angry at the bastard being missing with a damn bounty too.

It only further fueled his chagrin to learn that Zoro was with the beautiful Oiran and had sprung from no where to shove a child in his face. Begrudgingly Sanji had to admit he was too cool, a fact that only enraged him further.

And then the bastard was gone again.

Perhaps all of that he could have accepted if he hadn’t been going head to head with Traffy who did not seem to have the same level of trust or respect with Sanji as he did with Zoro. Sanji was capable and smart (and handsome)— why didn’t Traffy want him?

It probably didn’t help that Sanji was rude to Law and questioned him, chastised him just like he would to Zoro, a bitterness rising in him when he saw him. The quaint days of their initial alliance had given way to this festering rift since learning Trafalgar had apparently discovered something that Sanji hadn’t realized he wanted.

So it happened that before they were set to leave for Onigashima, Sanji finally got his chance to confront Zoro.

“We need to talk,” Sanji snapped.

He sounded like a bitter ex. How embarrassing.

“I’m busy, unless it’s about the plan, can it wait?”

Sanji exhaled his cigarette and tried to hear the patience in asking “can it wait” instead of assuming.

“You slept with Law?” Sanji blurted.

Zoro scoffed and went back to his new toy, Enma.

“So that’s it? Not gonna answer me?” Sanji was trying to prod him, to frustrate Zoro into cracking.

“No,” Zoro replied smugly.

“So you did,” Sanji continued to prod.

The conversation predictably devolved to fighting until Zoro left and there was nothing more to discuss, not when half the hillside was sliced off with Zoro’s sword and they were set on new tasks and not fooling around any longer. So they said— Sanji didn’t feel it was fooling around.

motherofcringe

The thing about a battle is humanity doesn’t stop in the face of life and death. The emotions that one feels in peaceful times don’t leave the mind, they simmer below the surface of consciousness in the liminal space of need and want. Everything becomes clarified, the needs rising to the surface as the important stuff holds below where it can be remembered when preserving the life becomes a want and a need. The wants become the focus that drives one forward, clinging to the love that makes one want to survive and holds one together.

The thing about Sanji was, he’d done this so many times he had to be actively engaged in a fight to feel that clarifying focus overtake him. While the nerves of the rest simmered around him, he found himself trying to make Zoro upset or something. It wasn’t the time to force an answer out of him about Law, it wasn’t the time to sit with his confused emotions, but the heart still wants amidst war.

Thus, his means of trying to get Zoro’s attention were scandalous at best. Once they were transformed into “Beast Pirates”, Sanji took one look at the idiot in his topless getup, looking like some damn Leather Daddy with his stupid haramaki as though forgoing it would kill him, and could feel the heterosexuality leaving his body. Sure Sanji probably looked the same as Zoro, but Zoro wasn’t looking at Sanji the way that Sanji was looking at Zoro. Actually, Zoro wasn’t looking at Sanji at all— he was staring down Kidd and meditating at alternating intervals. Unfair. Irritating. Sanji thought to move toward Zoro when someone mentioned the pleasure houses full of pretty women. One would think Sanji would try to be better, would try to tread a different path that brought him closer to Zoro, and yet, in a desperate attempt to suppress the feelings he was having, he loudly proclaimed his intention to find the ladies.

It was worse, actually, he said he had a lady radar and went off sniffing them out like a dog. He heard Zoro’s disapproval and settled for the knowledge he had been able to piss Zoro off. In his twisted logic, that meant he was able to make him feel something, even if it were unfavorable.

As the battle got underway, he found himself crossing paths with Zoro and found himself not wanting to leave his side. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that’s not how fights worked and soon enough the moment was over and Zoro had gone off to fight Kaidou on the roof with Luffy, Kidd and Law. It was a small comfort the idiot swordsman with his damn relentless death wish would at least be in the company of someone who cared.

Or at least that’s how Sanji felt until Law dropped Zoro’s barely conscious and badly wounded body into Sanji’s care, perching atop his shoulder like they were besties or Law was a cute girl. It was immediately infuriating. Did the bastard know Sanji had been developing feelings for Zoro and felt less kinship than rivalry with him?

Before he could get any real answers, Law was gone and Zoro was his problem. He called after Law telling him to take care of Zoro and demanding he explain what the hell was going on. Unfortunately, Law interpreted that as concern for Zoro, not the situation over all. Of course he would. Of course Law would be so thoughtful as to prioritize the condition of an injured comrade and Zoro at that.

“Zoro-ya probably had 20-30 bones broken,” Law explained, getting further and further from Sanji as he did. “Splint up his body, put him on his back, make sure he’s conscious and breathing.”

And still, even when it was a moment Sanji could rise to the occasion and show concern, to compete with this man for Zoro’s affection, Sanji snapped at Law to deal with the swordsman himself while holding Zoro in his arm. So much good that did.

For the time that Sanji bandaged him, it was like a hurricane eye: peaceful, intimate, a reminder of the want that made living worthwhile. He touched his hand gently to the already bruising flesh of Zoro’s stomach. What a fool— didn’t he care about seeing tomorrow? Did he know how loved he was?

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Sanji said softly as he continued to wrap Zoro.

“Takes one to know one,” Zoro shot back. It made him cough and then groan in pain, some blood trickling at the edge of his mouth.

Sanji tenderly wiped at the edge of his mouth and then continued wrapping Zoro. He felt the need to protect him, to ensure nothing could hurt him even if it tried. He probably went overboard bandaging him— he definitely went overboard.

“Do you even know how to apply a bandage?” Zoro asked, his voice hoarse and soft.

“It’s the same as trussing a ham,” Sanji answered. It was a half truth, Zoro was more important than a ham, but Sanji would take as much care with his food preparation as he would with Zoro.

“Am a ham to you?”

“You’re not that appetizing.”

It was bitterness speaking. A frustration that Zoro had once again thrown his life to the dogs, that Law was the one at his side, that Sanji was always picking up the pieces and even at death’s doorway where the idiot swordsman stood, Sanji wanted to be the one to take his hand and draw him back into life.

#adding more #zosan #op sanzo #sanji x zoro #sanji pov