Does Anyone Else Post And Use Tumblr From Their Phone?? Or Are Computers Easier Or Smth??

cats when you open their box

in celebration of me making it to timeskip, here’s some quick fishman island tweets

hello!!! I’ve never asked for a request before so this is so strange but I love your writing ❤️

I was wondering if you could write something with Zoro X Reader where the reader gets injured badly in a fight and zoro is also too injured to carry her back to the ship. So he has to entrust Sanji to carry her back for him. Maybe there is a light bit of teasing between the two men but ultimately they care about their crew mate more than petty fighting. Hope I explained that well and once again love your work.

Bruised Egos

zoro x reader

a/n: thank youuuu!! hope you'll like this eheh

words count: 2.2k

tags: hurt/comfort, sanji & zoro friendship (reluctant), established relationship, injured reader, protective zoro

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The smoke clears just enough to make out the wreckage of the battlefield. Bodies lie scattered, groaning or out cold. Blood paints the ground, most of it not yours, but the gash across your side is too deep for pride, and you’re only staying upright because Zoro’s shoulder props you up.

“Shit…” you breathe, slumping “That bastard nearly cracked my spine.”

Zoro hisses through clenched teeth “You shouldn’t have taken that hit.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat, half cough, half whimper “Wasn’t trying to. Thought you had my back.”

“I did have your back,” he growls, voice low “He just went through me first.”

You look up. Zoro’s bleeding from the temple, his shirt ripped, a deep fresh cut across his chest. One arm hangs limp at his side. His swords are sheathed, but his breathing’s all wrong. Shaky. Strained.

You know that look.

“Zoro… you can’t carry me.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“And I’m not walking. I can’t feel my legs, babe.”

His jaw tightens. You see the war happening in his head. His pride screams to fix it himself, but his body’s failing. You lean your forehead against his, voice soft.

“You gotta call someone to help.”

Zoro’s silent.

Then a voice cuts through the haze like a damn knife.

“Ohhh no. No, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad.”

Sanji.

His boots skid to a stop in the dirt, one sleeve torn, bruises darkening his jaw. He crouches beside you, worry etched across his face “Ma chérie, what the hell happened to you? You’re—you’re—”

“I’m not dying” you murmur, almost amused.

“She’s not dying,” Zoro snaps, shooting Sanji a glare “But she can’t move. I can’t carry her.”

Sanji’s brows shoot up “So you’re actually asking me for help?”

Zoro doesn’t respond. He just glares harder.

“Oh my god,” Sanji gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his heart “Roronoa Zoro, Pirate Hunter, is entrusting me with his precious, injured girlfriend. The world is ending.”

“I will end your world if you drop her.”

You groan, head lolling back “Guys. Not the time.”

Sanji immediately sobers “Right. Sorry.” He leans in, his tone gentler now “This is gonna hurt, but I’ll be careful.”

Zoro grabs his wrist before he touches you “If you get weird, even a little, I’ll know.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but there’s a flicker of something honest under the dramatics “She’s hurt, moss-for-brains. Not my type when she’s bleeding out.”

You snort despite the pain “Wow. Thanks.”

Zoro lets go of Sanji’s wrist, reluctantly.

Sanji carefully hooks his arms under your knees and back, lifting you with surprising steadiness. You flinch, but he adjusts, murmuring apologies the entire time. You can feel Zoro’s gaze burning into the both of you.

“Hey” you whisper to Zoro, reaching your hand out.

He grabs it instantly, squeezing it tight “I’ll be right behind you.”

Sanji shifts your weight, starting toward the ship “Take your time, mosshead. Wouldn’t want you to collapse on the way and make me carry you too.”

Zoro mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “dead chef walking.”

But you hear it too, beneath the insults, under the tension, is trust.

And for now, that’s enough.

“Chopper!”

Sanji’s voice bounces off the twisted trees of the island interior. He cradles you tighter against his chest, eyes scanning for movement “Come on, little reindeer, now’s not the time to play scavenger.”

Zoro limps behind, every step deliberate. He’s pale under the dirt and blood, his knuckles clenched tight. He hasn’t spoken in minutes, not since you stopped answering him.

You groaned once. Then your head lolled against Sanji’s shoulder. And now nothing.

“She’s out cold,” Sanji mutters, almost to himself “Breathing’s shallow. I don’t like this.”

Zoro stops walking “Let me see her.”

Sanji glances back “We don’t have time to switch carriers, dumbass. You can barely stand.”

Zoro doesn’t budge “I said, let me see her.”

Reluctantly, Sanji kneels and shifts your weight slightly so Zoro can crouch beside him. Zoro brushes hair away from your face, his hand trembling just enough to notice.

“Hey. Y/N.” His voice is low now, barely audible “You with me?”

Your eyelids don’t flutter. Your lips are pale.

Sanji watches him, surprised at the way Zoro’s hand lingers on your cheek.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Sanji offers gently “She’ll pull through.”

“She better,” Zoro mutters, eyes locked on your face “I didn’t fight off three of these monsters just to watch her pass out in the dirt.”

Sanji lets him have a moment before standing again “Let’s move. We’re no good to her like this.”

Zoro stands too, but he’s slower now. His entire right leg is dragging slightly.

“You’re falling apart,” Sanji notes, voice tinged with both sarcasm and concern “Need me to carry you next?”

Zoro snorts “I’d rather be buried.”

“Wouldn't be the first time I carry you... But suit yourself, marimo.”

Sanji adjusts his hold on you again, but more carefully this time. You’re burning up now, your body swinging between chills and heat.

“You’re holding her like she’s made of glass” Zoro points out.

“She is right now,” Sanji snaps “You want me to drop her?”

“You’d be dead before she hit the ground.”

“Romantic,” Sanji mutters “Just say you love her and let’s go.”

Zoro doesn’t answer. His silence says everything.

They stumble into a clearing and Sanji spots Chopper.

“Chopper!” Zoro bellows.

The doctor turns, eyes wide “What happened?! Oh no, oh no—is that blood?”

Sanji doesn’t waste time. He kneels, laying you gently on the nearest blanket “She passed out a few minutes ago. Deep gash on her side. Internal bleeding, maybe. She hasn’t opened her eyes.”

Zoro drops beside you, his whole body stiff with tension “She was conscious right after the fight. Talking. Then she just… went quiet.”

Chopper’s already on it, gloves on, stethoscope out “Stay back, both of you. Let me work.”

Sanji pulls Zoro a few steps back. They both stand in silence for a moment, watching Chopper work with rapid, practiced hands.

“She’s gonna make it,” Sanji says quietly “She has to.”

Zoro glances at him, exhausted “If she doesn’t, I’ll kill you.”

Sanji rolls his eyes “You really know how to make a guy feel comforted.”

Zoro’s lip twitches, and for a second, just a second, Sanji sees something close to gratitude behind his usual scowl.

You stir, faintly, the barest motion of fingers twitching.

Zoro immediately drops to your side “Hey. Hey, hey—look at me.”

Your lips move, dry and cracked “…Zoro?”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for an hour “Yeah. I’m here. You fainted like an idiot. Don’t do that again.”

Chopper’s already at your other side “She’s stable now. But she needs rest. And stitches.”

“Ugh,” you murmur “Don’t let Sanji near my stitches.”

“I would never,” Sanji huffs from behind you “Though I was tempted to draw little hearts around the bandages.”

Zoro glares “Try it. I dare you.”

You crack a weak smile “You guys are… the worst.”

But your voice is soft, and your fingers curl weakly around Zoro’s sleeve. And that’s enough to keep him from collapsing himself.

You dream in flashes. Smoke. Pain. Arms under you. A soft voice murmuring apologies. The scent of cigarette smoke and flour. Something warm against your forehead.

Then everything fades into darkness.

When you wake up, it’s to the low creak of wood, the soft hum of the Sunny rocking beneath you. The room smells like clean linen, alcohol, and the ocean. You’re warm, safe. Your side aches like hell, but your brain is clear enough now to register that you’re alive, and tucked neatly into the infirmary’s bed.

Your fingers twitch. A shadow stirs beside the bed.

Zoro.

He’s slumped in a chair, arms folded across his chest, chin dipped low like he fell asleep mid-glare. One foot taps slightly, and there’s a fresh bandage wrapped around his bicep.

You blink slowly. Then whisper, hoarse, “…Zoro?”

He snaps awake so fast the chair nearly tips backward “You’re up?”

You nod, barely. Your throat’s dry, but you manage, “Feels like I got hit by a sea train.”

“You did,” he grumbles. He leans forward, his hand gripping the edge of the mattress like if he doesn’t hold on, you might disappear “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“You were scared?”

He looks away, cheeks faintly tinged “No.”

You smile weakly.

There’s a long pause. Then you whisper, “Can you… get Sanji?”

Zoro freezes “What?”

“I wanna thank him. I just remember… being carried. He was gentle. He smelled like pastries.” You grin sleepily “Like a knight or something.”

Zoro stares at you. His eye twitches “A knight.”

“Mmhmm. My… chevalier in shining apron.”

“Oh, hell no.”

You giggle weakly, and he scowls even harder.

Zoro mutters something about “damn curly-brow” and “should’ve let me carry her and pass out instead” but he gets up anyway, muttering all the way to the door. He yanks it open and yells down the hall:

“HEY, LOVE-COOK! YOUR DAMN PRINCESS WOKE UP AND WANTS HER SHINING FRENCH-FRIED KNIGHT!”

You wheeze a laugh and immediately regret it as pain lances up your side.

“Ugh—ow. Ow. Okay. Worth it.”

Zoro glares at you “Not funny.”

You grin “A little funny.”

Moments later, Sanji slides into the room with a flourish, one hand to his heart, the other holding a steaming mug of tea.

“Ma belle, you called for your humble rescuer?”

Zoro groans “Kill me.”

Sanji kneels beside your bed dramatically “I brought tea, special blend for pain and recovery. Also, you’re glowing even with dried blood and stitches. How do you do it?”

You take the tea, sipping carefully “Thanks, Sanji. Seriously. I don’t remember much, but I remember you carrying me. You felt safe.”

Sanji softens instantly, all flair dropping “Any time. You’re our crewmate, our family. I’d carry you through a burning building if I had to.”

Zoro mumbles, “Burning kitchen, maybe. Not a building.”

Sanji ignores him.

“Still,” you murmur, “you were… really sweet. Thank you.”

Zoro groans louder “That’s it. I’m throwing myself overboard.”

Sanji smirks “What’s the matter, mosshead? Jealous?”

Zoro doesn’t answer. He just sits back down and crosses his arms, glowering at the wall like it insulted him.

You reach out with a small smile, grabbing his hand. He looks over, still sulking, but your fingers tug his down.

You mouth, thank you.

He doesn’t smile, but his thumb brushes across your knuckles. Just once.

Sanji rises “Alright. I’ll let you two lovebirds bicker in peace. But next time she needs rescuing, I’m bringing rose petals.”

“I’ll bring my swords.”

“Romantic!”

The door clicks shut behind Sanji.

Zoro sighs, muttering, “Chevalier my ass…”

You smile and lean back “You’re still my favorite swordsman.”

He grunts. But his hand never leaves yours.

You watch him in silence until he speaks.

“Still thinking about your chevalier?”

You smile faintly “Still sulking about it?”

He glances at you “I’m not sulking.”

“You’re absolutely sulking.”

He scowls “I just don’t like the way you looked at him in his arms.”

“I was out of it. I don’t even remember much. But something about the way he held me felt safe. And soft. And dumb, and warm. I was so out of it that at some point I even thought for sure it was you.” You smirk “Turns out it was the one who wears suits to jungle battles.”

Zoro huffs “You’re comparing me to that frilly cook?”

You nod slowly, eyes closing for a moment “Mhm.”

Zoro grunts “Tch. Dumb.”

But then he leans forward, and you feel his callused hand brush your arm, slow and deliberate. His voice softens, just a little.

“You scared me, you know.”

You open your eyes again “Yeah?”

“You dropped so fast. One minute, you were teasing me. Next… nothing. Just a dead weight in curly-brow’s arms. I couldn’t do a damn thing.”

His hand closes around yours. Not possessive, just grounded. Steady.

“I thought maybe I’d lost you.”

You shift your fingers to lace with his “You didn’t.”

“I almost did.”

“But you didn’t...” you repeat gently, tugging his hand until he leans a little closer “You were there. Even if you couldn’t carry me, you stayed. That means more to me than anything.”

Zoro stares at you, unreadable. Then, slowly, he leans in and presses his forehead to yours.

For a long, quiet moment, you just breathe each other in.

No bravado. No teasing. Just warmth. Just him.

Eventually, you murmur, “You know… I might ask Sanji to carry me again.”

Zoro pulls back with a look.

You smir “Kidding.”

Zoro shakes his head, standing up with a low groan, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You’re lucky you’re injured,” he mutters “Or I’d drop-kick you off the deck.”

“Romantic” you whisper.

He smirks, just slightly.

Zoro pulls the chair closer to your bedside, sits again, and this time, he doesn’t fold his arms or pretend he’s not watching you sleep.

When your eyes finally drift closed, his hand is still wrapped around yours. Firm. Protective. Unmoving.

Sanji might have carried you.

But Zoro never let go.

Sick Day

Summary: You're sick but you don't want to disturb your busy captain and the crew.

Song: Coming Down by The Weeknd

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

The salt spray stung your face as you clung to the railing of the submarine, Polar Tang. The familiar rocking of the vessel usually soothed you, but today, it churned your stomach with a vengeance. Each swell sent a wave of nausea crashing over you, and the lump in your throat threatened to betray the secret you’d been desperately trying to keep.

“Another beautiful day at sea, eh, Y/N?” Shachi called out, his ever-present grin plastered on his face. He approached, a length of rope slung over his shoulder, and threw an arm around your shoulders.

His touch, normally comforting, felt like a brand on your feverish skin.

“Gorgeous,” you managed, forcing a smile and leaning away slightly. “Just taking in the fresh air.”

Shachi, bless his oblivious heart, seemed to buy it. “That’s the spirit! Captain’s in the library, buried in some ancient medical text again. Probably trying to find a cure for boredom.” He chuckled. “Don’t think he’s slept in days. You should see the bags under his eyes.”

Your heart clenched. That was precisely the reason you were out here, battling the waves and the growing weakness in your limbs. Trafalgar Law, your…everything, was already overworked.

He dedicated his life to the well-being of his crew, pushing himself relentlessly. The last thing he needed was you adding to his burden with a simple cold.

“Maybe I will,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. “Catch up on some reading myself.” You detached yourself from Shachi’s grip and hurried below deck, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your hands.

The air inside the submarine was thick and humid, doing little to alleviate the chill that had settled deep in your bones. You bypassed the library – Law’s sanctuary – and stumbled toward your shared cabin.

Collapsing onto the bunk, you pulled the threadbare blanket over yourself, trying to ignore the throbbing in your head and the scratchiness in your throat.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

Bepo’s anxious voice cut through the fog in your brain. You peeked out from under the blanket to see the massive polar bear crouched in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Fine, Bepo, fine,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket higher. “Just a little tired.”

Bepo wasn’t stupid. He knew you better than anyone, barring Law himself. He padded closer, his large paws silent on the metal floor.

“Your face is flushed,” he said, his voice laced with worry. “And you’re shivering. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a little seasick,” you insisted, turning your face to the wall. “It’ll pass.”

Bepo hesitated, his ears twitching. “Maybe…maybe I should tell Captain.”

Panic flared in your chest. “No! Bepo, please don’t. He’s so busy. It’s nothing, I promise. Just let me rest.”

You knew you were being unreasonable, but desperation lent your voice a sharp edge. Bepo, always sensitive to your feelings, retreated slightly.

“Okay, Y/N,” he said softly. “But…but if you need anything, anything, you promise you’ll tell me?”

“I promise,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

Days blurred into a miserable cycle of stolen naps, forced smiles, and growing weakness. You avoided Law as much as possible, knowing he’d see through your charade in an instant.

You choked down your meals, forcing yourself to socialize with the crew, all the while battling a fever that threatened to consume you.

The hardest part was keeping your distance from Law. You craved his touch, his presence, his unwavering gaze. He was your anchor, your safe harbor in a turbulent world.

But you couldn't risk him seeing you like this, a pathetic, sniffling mess. You’d rather suffer in silence than burden him with your trivial illness.

One evening, as you were attempting to sneak a cup of herbal tea – Penguin’s well-intentioned remedy, despite your protests – Law’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N.”

You froze, your back to him. The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, a different kind of shiver than the one that racked your body with fever.

“Captain,” you said, turning around slowly. You tried to appear nonchalant, leaning against the counter as if you weren’t desperately trying to keep from collapsing.

He stood in the doorway to the galley, his dark eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. He was even more tired than Shachi had described, the lines around his mouth etched deeper, the shadows under his eyes more pronounced.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated, his voice flat.

You forced a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Captain. I’ve just been…busy.”

He raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. “Busy doing what, exactly? Trying to master the art of disappearing?”

You swallowed, your throat burning. “I…I just wanted to give you space. You’ve been working so hard.”

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “And you think hiding from me is helping?” He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead. You flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re burning up,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “How long have you been sick?”

The fight drained out of you. There was no point in denying it any longer. He knew. He always knew.

“A few days,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

His grip on your forehead tightened slightly. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. “I didn’t want to bother you. You have so much to worry about.”

He sighed, a sound of weary exasperation. “Y/N…" He took your hand in his, his thumb stroking the back of your palm. "You are never a bother. Ever. Do you understand?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “But…”

“No buts,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “Come with me.”

He led you back to your cabin, carefully helping you onto the bunk. He didn’t say anything as he peeled off your clammy clothes and wrapped you in a fresh blanket. He worked with a practiced efficiency, his movements precise and gentle.

He summoned Bepo, who scurried off to fetch a basin of cool water and some clean cloths. Law sat beside you, dipping the cloth in the water and gently dabbing your forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked again, his voice softer this time.

Your voice was hoarse. “I was scared.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and something else, something that made your heart flutter despite the throbbing in your head.

“Scared of what?”

“That you’d be angry,” you whispered. “That I’d be a burden.”

He shook his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead. “You could never be a burden, Y/N. And I could never be angry at you for being sick.”

He continued to bathe your forehead in silence, his touch soothing and comforting. You closed your eyes, letting the cool water and his presence wash over you.

“From now on,” he said softly, after a long silence, “no more secrets. Not from me. Understand?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

“I understand,” you whispered.

The next few days were a blur of fever dreams and Law’s unwavering care. He made you herbal teas, insisted on you resting, and even managed to coax a few bites of bland food past your protesting stomach.

The crew tiptoed around the cabin, whispering their well wishes and leaving small gifts – a rare orange, a hand-knitted scarf, a crudely drawn get-well card from Bepo.

Slowly, the fever began to break. The throbbing in your head subsided, and the nausea faded. You started to feel like yourself again, a little weak perhaps, but alive.

One evening, as you sat propped up in bed, reading a worn paperback, Law entered the cabin. He carried a tray with a steaming mug and a plate of crackers.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Much better, thank you," you replied, offering a tentative smile. "I'm almost back to normal."

He placed the tray on the small table beside your bed. "Good. I was starting to miss your sharp wit and irritating questions."

You chuckled, a genuine sound this time. "Irritating questions? You're just jealous of my superior intellect."

He smirked, a rare and precious sight. "Of course. That must be it." He leaned back against the wall, watching you as you sipped your tea. The silence that followed was comfortable, a familiar rhythm between you.

"Law," you began hesitantly, "I wanted to thank you. For everything."

He raised an eyebrow. "There's no need. I just did what anyone would have done."

You shook your head. "No, you went above and beyond. You could have left it to the others, but you didn't. You took care of me. And I... I really appreciate it."

He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer. "Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious, "you're important to me."

Your heart leaped in your chest. "I –"

He cut you off, continuing before you could overthink and ruin the moment. "You're smart, resourceful, and you have this infuriating way of always knowing exactly what to say to piss me off, but also... to make me laugh. You bring a unique perspective to the crew. You challenge me."

He paused, his eyes searching yours. "And," he swallowed hard, "you're… kind of… essential to me."

You stared at him, speechless. Essential? Was he… could he possibly…

He seemed to realize what he had said, the implications of his words hitting him like a tidal wave. His cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair.

"I… I didn’t mean to say that," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"You didn't?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked back at you, his gaze intense. "Well, I mean… I did. But… I didn't mean to say it like that. It just sort of… came out." He was a mess, a far cry from the stoic, collected captain you knew him to be.

You couldn't help but laugh, a nervous, shaky sound. "So, you're saying you didn't intend to accidentally confess your… whatever this is, to me, while I'm still recovering from a fever?"

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "This is a disaster."

You reached out and took his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. "Hey," you said softly, "it's okay. It's more than okay."

He looked up, his eyes filled with doubt and a glimmer of hope. "It is?"

You squeezed his hand. "Yes, Law. It is. Because… I feel the same way."

His eyes widened. "You… you do?"

You nodded, your heart soaring. "I do. I have for a long time."

A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features. It was the most genuine, unguarded smile you had ever seen. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear.

"Then maybe," he whispered, "this accidental confession wasn't such a disaster after all."

He leaned in closer, and you closed your eyes, anticipation flooding your senses. His lips brushed against yours, a tentative, feather-light touch. It was a promise, a beginning.

The door to the cabin slid open with a bang, and Penguin's head popped in. "Captain! We've spotted–" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the scene. "Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

Law pulled away, his cheeks flushing again. "Yes, Penguin. You are."

Penguin backed out of the cabin, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement. "Right. Carry on, then. I'll just… tell the others to steer clear." He disappeared, leaving you and Law alone once more.

You both burst out laughing, the tension finally dissipating. The world outside your tiny cabin seemed to fade away, leaving only you and Law, the quiet hum of the Polar Tang, and the undeniable spark of something new, something real, igniting between you.

The fever might have been a curse, but it had inadvertently led to a cure for a different kind of ailment, one you had both been suffering from in silence for far too long.

And maybe, just maybe, accidental confessions were the best kind. . . .

What appeals to me about whump: an incomplete list

Yes, that is indeed Zoro taking up the entire row. That row is dedicated to him.

Blank Alignment Chart

"Still too light..."

Whumpril day 1: Hug (clammy)

(Yes I know it's May but I am just happy to finish this thing I started drawing like a year ago lmaooo)

I love Zeff and Sanji's father son relationship so so much. Zeff's poor Eggplant has gotten sick. Steamed himself instead of the actual food...

Overused Words & Alternatives

Said: replied, asserted, concluded, explained, articulated, retorted

Moved: maneuvered, shifted, walked, shuffled, turned, pushed

Amazing: unbelievable, wonderful, remarkable, startling, unusual, neat, marvelous

Very: greatly, eminently, terribly, absolutely, decidedly, remarkably, notably

Love (noun): affection, fondness, devotion, infatuation, appreciation

Love (verb): admire, cherish, treasure, prefer, be fond of, be attached to

Look: glance, notice, peer, stare, study, view, watch

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs ⚜ Said ⚜ Very ⚜ Love

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