[personal profile] dethorats
From [livejournal.com profile] genuinelie:

Prompt: The Opinions of Others
Pairing: ZoSan
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 727



The hangover made Sanji wince; the rough tanned arm thrown possessively over his bare waist made him grimace. Again. He’d done it again, gone and slept with that shitty swordsman. Which, he couldn’t help but turn his frown a little bit upside down as he remembered flashes of the night before, had been a lot of fun. Except that he had TOLD that bastard that it was supposed to be private, something for shore leave and quiet night watches and not for getting loudly plastered and then fucking in the galley where anyone could walk in. After all, there were two lovely ladies who shouldn’t have to put up with such uncouthness and an impressionable young reindeer boy to think about as well. There was a no-account captain and a gossipy sniper to consider as well, and damn it, he had a reputation to maintain!

Zoro woke up to the unpleasant, and unpleasantly familiar, sensation of being kicked in the head. At least the stupid chef hadn’t bothered to put on shoes yet and the throbbing in his temples came more from last night’s rum than Sanji’s foot. He opened one eye to glare up at the cook, who was in fine fettle, blond hair ruffled, shirt buttoned up unevenly, and pants still hanging off his hips.

“Out,” Sanji growled, finger pointing insistently at the door. “Out and brush your teeth or something. You reek of rum and Nami-swan and Robin-chan do not need to smell your ugly mug this morning as well as see it. Now hurry up before anyone comes looking for breakfast.”

Zoro debated for a second about how much he felt like a fight. But his mouth did taste like shit, and more importantly, there above the mismatched buttons, on Sanji’s pale neck was a dark smudge of the sort that most people called a hickey. Zoro hid his smirk behind a grudging glare as he got to his feet. The curly cook was always so worried about presenting a suave front to the world. HA! As if the world cared. And this morning Zoro would prove it.

Luffy was already bouncing around on deck when he stepped outside and he spared the swordsman a bright and knowing grin before rushing past him.

“Sanji, MEAT!”

And so breakfast time began before Sanji was really ready and, though his food was as delicious as normal, if a little late, he wasn’t quite as neat and pressed that morning as the crew sat down to eat. The apron covered his shirt buttons but he hadn’t had the time to find a jacket or tie and his collar hung open. No one said a word throughout breakfast, the madhouse routine proceeding like normal. Sanji did the dishes and hung up his apron and made tea and waited for everyone to be gone so he could finally gather himself. Zoro, the great lump, settled on the floor for a nap, and his precious ladies lingered over the teapot. At last, though, Nami and Robin rose. Robin headed for the door but Nami stopped and turned towards the chef. Sanji’s heart beat faster, heart coming into his eyes as she placed her hands on his chest.

“There,” she said, smoothing the cloth. “That’s better. Your buttons weren’t quite right this morning, Sanji-kun.”

As he tried to stutter out an apology, flushing in embarrassment and mentally cursing the snoring bastard in the corner, she grinned and brushed a finger along the jumping pulse in his neck. “Don’t worry about it. Oh, but if you want something to cover that up later when we dock, just ask. For you, Sanji-kun, I’ll only charge double.”

Sanji stood frozen as Nami walked away, only able to desperately grab for a shiny metal spoon once she was gone. And there, on his neck, undeniable, was a…a….a…love bite of all things. His nakama had seen it, all of them, and he and Zoro had been the last two left drinking in the galley last night and…

This time the kick had a shoe behind it but Zoro was ready for it. And when their fight erupted out of the galley and onto the deck in front of the rest of the crew, for once Sanji didn’t bother to pull back when Zoro snuck in an affectionate bite and even left one of his own.



From [livejournal.com profile] serrende

Prompt: Pumpkins
Pairing: ZoSopp (more gen though)
Rating: G
Word Count: 1045



It was their last day in Skypiea. Merry was laden with food and gold and Usopp had made as many repairs to the ship as he could. Fretting further about all the repairs he could not make was going to get him nowhere so he turned his attention instead to the green melon gourds that Conis grew in her garden. Other than for the color they reminded him very much of the pumpkins that he had tended in his mother’s garden back in Syrup Village. In his rare moments of idleness, the idea had slowly squirmed into his brain. He hadn’t carved anything in a long time; not since Kaya had been unable to leave her house during the cool fall nights to see the scenes he’d carved backlit by warm orange flames.

With no one around to have to entertain, Luffy having gone off with Nami, Robin, Sanji and Conis to tour the city while Chopper talked with the Shandian medicine man and Zoro snored away on Merry’s deck, Usopp felt free to do as he pleased. He hauled a dozen or so of the heavy green melons on board and sat back against Merry’s repaired railing as he contemplated his array of hard canvas. Between the color and Zoro’s continued snoring, it didn’t take long for Usopp to make up his mind for his first image. A carpenter’s pencil whipped out from behind his ear, sketched in the lines of design. The same saw he’d used earlier on planks to patch Merry’s hull took off the top of the melon after a bit of effort. It was filled with a sweet liquid, quite refreshing for the thirst he’d worked up, and a lot of pulp that he carefully set aside in a bowl for Sanji. Once it was hollow, Usopp took up his jackknife.

Two ruined designs later, Usopp sucked on a bleeding finger and scowled. The damn gourd melons were harder than the pumpkins he was used to and he just couldn’t work out the balance between blade pressure and artistic finesse. As he muttered and drew his design for the third time, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, making him yelp in surprise and sending a thick pencil line skidding along the curve of the melon. Green eyes blinked at him sleepily as he scolded Zoro for startling him, and the swordsman merely yawned and pointed out that Usopp had been the one to wake him up with his continued cursing. A warm knee settled alongside Usopp’s as Zoro sat down to watch the show, keeping silent as the sniper sawed off the top and cleaned out the inside of the melon. When it came time to carve, however, the swordsman didn’t wait for very long before catching Usopp’s wrist, stilling it.

“You’ve got the leverage all wrong. Here, just…”

And he took the knife and swiftly made three clean cuts, cleaving out a neat chunk of shell. Usopp stared for a moment and then grinned. If Zoro felt like helping, he could finish his whole project before the rest of the crew returned.

“Wow, Zoro! I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since it’s a blade and all, but you’re really good at that…Say, since you’re awake now, why don’t you help? I’ll draw and you can cut and it’ll look really cool when we’re done!”

The swordsman raised an eyebrow as Usopp babbled and grabbed another melon, but finally shrugged. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do and he’d napped so much over the past few days that he really wasn’t all that tired either. Zoro dug Usopp’s jackknife into the next stroke of pencil and sliced. There wasn’t much of a challenge in cutting through the gourds but following Usopp’s lines was at least somewhat interesting. And by the time he finished with the first one, Usopp had finished two more designs and was busy scooping out melon guts.

They passed the afternoon together, Usopp chattering on quietly about pumpkins and Kaya and his mom and Zoro wordlessly taking in every word, and the collection of carved gourds grew until the sniper finally groaned and stood up, stretching his back. He had finished it, nine designs, and even had a melon left over. All he needed now was some candles and that night the crew could party by the light of the melon lanterns. Zoro had done a fine job, even carving the swirls and curlicues he’d drawn in precise curves. They all looked great. Except…now that he had a chance to study it…that first one…

“Zoro, that line was a mistake! You weren’t supposed to cut that!”

Zoro looked at where he was pointing, then back at him. “Thought it looked weird. But you’re the artist.”

“That was where my hand slipped when you sc-sta-surprised me. Not part of the design. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Didn’t really look that closely. Just traced the lines.”

Usopp bit back on the remark that wanted to slip out. After all, Zoro had helped and making him mad would not be nice. Still, the artist in him was NOT happy. At least he one more melon…But even as he turned to get it, Zoro took the knife and made a few more cuts, leaning back to study it and then nod.

“Better?”

And it was. Not quite in the same scheme as the rest of them now, but that was okay. It still fit. And he could make it work even better with just one more change. A quick sketch and the swordsman brandished the knife. Now. Now it was perfect. Usopp grinned and clapped Zoro on the shoulder and went off to find some candles and scrounge up some lunch. The swordsman, meanwhile, cleaned and sharpened the sniper’s knife and then decided to take another nap after all. That night Usopp lit the candles and basked in the oohs and ahs of his nakama for only a moment before he gave credit where it was due. Privately Usopp thought the lanterns of him and Zoro, with the way the sword strokes and fire stars met in a blaze of light where the melons rested beside each other, looked just a little bit more awesome than all the rest.


From [livejournal.com profile] serrende

Prompt: Painted Toenails
Pairing: ZoSopp (again more gen than anything, argh!)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 735



It had been an accident. One of those strange twists of fortune involving sneezing rubber captains, a slingshot, and a particularly heavy hammer that happened to belong to the ship’s sniper. Oh, and a certain dozing swordsman’s toe. The roar of pain had been enough to send him scrambling for the hold and the head, which at least had a door he could lock for all the few precious extra seconds of life that would buy him, but he’d tripped over a still sneezing captain and gone sprawling and the hand that had closed on the back of his neck had promised death. He was saved by the sweet young voice of an angel, or at least a reindeer, as Chopper made Zoro let go and sit down so he could have a look at his foot.

Zoro’s big toe was already purple and red, blood welling up beneath the nail, and Chopper shook his head and went for some ice. It wasn’t broken but it was swollen and badly bruised and likely to be hideous for some time. The little doctor prescribed air and time and the avoidance of shoes for as long as possible. Nami, upon seeing it and the way blood had just started to seep out around the nail bed, decided it was gross, which it really kind of was, and Sanji then declared that Zoro had to cover his disgusting smelly feet if he wanted to eat in the kitchen and it looked like there was going to be a fight, nasty injured toe or no, until Robin had laughed quietly to herself and suggested that there were other ways of covering a toe besides socks and shoes.

Which was how Usopp found himself hovering a small brush covered in dark green paint over Zoro’s damaged toe, the swordsman’s naked foot in his lap and emerald eyes narrowed in his direction in a fierce glare. With the utmost care and delicacy, Usopp made the first stroke. The purple and black began to disappear, glossed over in green, and the sniper let out his breath when Zoro did not flinch and kick him in the gentleman’s area or surge forward and punch him. When he was finished, Zoro’s big toe was green. And while it was certainly better than how it had looked before, it still looked funny. So Usopp, unthinking, moved on to the next toe and then the next. Until a low growled sentence made him freeze.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“F-f-finishing the set? It looks weird otherwise.”

Usopp couldn’t bring himself to meet Zoro’s eyes as he hunched over the swordsman’s foot and he braced himself for a blow. It never came. Instead Zoro let out a large, rather resigned-sounding, sigh.

“Damn woman. She planned this.”

“Wh-what?”

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, hadn’t meant to draw attention back to himself, but it was too late. Zoro stared at him and then, slowly, he grinned. It was the sort of grin that made Usopp’s knees want to shake, except that he had Zoro’s injured foot resting on it and that was probably a bad idea.

“You’re next,” was all Zoro said before he lightly shook his foot. “Go on, finish ‘em.”

Ten green toenails later and Usopp was a wreck. His life, he expected, was probably over. His hands shook as he finished cleaning the brush and he was too afraid to see what Zoro was up to as he cautiously limped around the room; probably looking for the best place to kill a sniper.

“Take ‘em off.”

The words, whispered as they were quite unexpectedly in his ear, sent Usopp about a foot into the air and he whirled around to see Zoro grinning that evil grin again and brandishing a tube of yellow paint. And so, with more mess and some giggling, because Usopp’s feet were ticklish and Zoro wasn’t above petty revenge, the sniper’s toenails acquired a coat of yellow lacquer. Nami just rolled her eyes when they arrived in the galley but Sanji had practically fallen on the floor with his howls of mirth. He got what was coming to him when Luffy decided that it looked cool and that everyone should have pretty toenails for a few days. Robin, when she felt Zoro’s hard gaze on her, had the grace to cover her smirk with a delicate, manicured hand.







Hancock, ILU. Crappy coloring by me.
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