“how Did You Get Into Writing” Girl Nobody Gets Into Writing. Writing Shows Up One Day At Your Door

Cause of my insomnia number one:

RUN, RABBIT, RUN: Part 3

To the Garden

Trafalgar Law x Reader Zombie Apocalypse AU

Part 3 of my @infixop gift for @namism!

CW: Zombies, mentions of death. Pretty tame compared to the other parts tbh. No use of Y/N or gendered pronouns.

WC: 5384

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(A/N at the bottom)

Law is gone when you wake up. 

You don’t realize at first. The warmth from the blankets and the soft mattress below you keeps you on the edges of sleep. With your eyes closed, and the thoughts in your head not yet coherent, the past three days are almost like a bad dream. Nothing is real, and when you sit up, you’re sure you’ll be back in your own bed, waiting for your alarm to sound despite waking before it. You’ll get up, drink water and go through your morning routine like usual. Almost like everything was just a nightmare to wake up from.

Your eyes snap open. 

The bed beside you is empty. 

You frantically scramble out of the covers, tripping over yourself to slide on your shoes as you hurry to the door.

The apartment living room is empty. So is the bathroom. So is the kitchen. 

Where is he? Through your frantic thoughts, that one rises to the surface. Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted him. Maybe you should've left the night before— abandon him before he could you. 

Your bat is by the front door. It’s untouched, the wet carrion that covered it now dry. You grab it, and yank open the front door. 

Law is standing there. 

His arm is still snug in its sling and a surprised expression is plastered across his face. 

“Are you okay?” He says.

A rush of relief spreads through you, wobbling your knees. You don’t fall. You won’t allow yourself to— but you still speak up, voice hoarse from sleep. “I thought you left.”

Law rolls his eyes at that, nudging you out of the way as he enters the room. He drops Kikoku from his shoulder, resting her against the little ottoman by the door, and sets a plain grocery bag on top. He then turns to you, easing your bat from your hand and placing it gently by Kikoku. 

“I said I won’t leave you.” Law says, then gesturing to the grocery bag. “I was looking for food. He left a lot of supplies.”

At the mention of ‘he’, you gag. 

Right. You killed someone yesterday. Law, if he looked through the whole building, must have found the body already. He’s probably put two and two together. Law steps towards you, reaching out, but you shake your head. 

“Did you go upstairs?” You choke out, eyes wide. 

Law pauses then. He’s staring at you again. His gold gaze is heavy, different from last night but all the same. 

You feel your stomach flip.

“Yes.” He finally says, voice even and soft. “I don’t fault you for doing what you did. I can imagine it was a moment of intense stress, and you did what you needed to survive.”

You shrink back. An array of emotions swell up from the deep dark well inside you. You feel the need to scream and cry and laugh all at once. So you do nothing. You sway the few steps to the little armchair, and collapse into it. 

Your eyes are dry. 

The silence lingers. Despite the sleep you got, you’re still so, so tired. The armchair melts around you, and it feels like you’re falling. The world blurs and you can’t feel your toes. The void of nothingness is a comforting presence. It’s easy to fade into it, disappear into somewhere far from here.  

Law steps in front of you. He kneels, the sling a bright contrast from his dark clothes and hair. Carefully, he touches your hand, lying limp on the armrest. 

“Hey.” 

You glance at him, feeling returning somewhat to your body. 

“Let’s eat first.”

~~~~

Law seems to be handling everything too well. 

You suppose it's the nature of his job, to keep calm and keep others calm even in the most stressful of situations. He’s good at urging you back from yourself, to get you moving again despite the hole in your own morality. 

After packing the leftovers, you leave the shade of the building for a bright, hot sun and light blue skies. The post rain air is fresh. Months of dust has been washed away, leaving behind cleaner streets slowly staining under your feet. Law is a lot more talkative today— or there might just be a lot to get through. 

He waits until you’re well on your way to start, around three blocks from that fateful apartment building.

“I have a satellite phone. It’s out of batteries. They’re type AA. We should aim to find some today.” Law says. 

“Was there none at the apartment?” You say. 

“No.” Law says. “I checked.”

You make a sound of acknowledgement. The sun is melting away the discomfort of the morning. It’s hot on your skin, and you’ve already opened the front of your jacket. The lapels sway with your every step. 

“I can use the phone to contact the camp I was living at on the other side. Then someone can come pick us up.”

“There are others there?” You ask. 

“Yes.” Law replies. “I know some very resourceful people. We managed to make it across the river before things got as bad as they are now. It’s pretty safe there.”

The question from yesterday morning comes back to you. And this time, you’re not afraid to ask it. “Why are you here?” 

When Law doesn’t answer, you stop. At the disappearance of your footsteps, Law turns around. You frown at him, then rephrase the question.

“Why are you here? On this side.”

Law starts walking again, but this time, he does answer. “There is a pharmacist at the camp. He wanted to make an antibody for the infection but we didn't have a lab. I’m the only person there that knows what he needs and might potentially need. We can’t waste a trip like this.”

“Why didn’t he come himself?” You jog to catch up.  

“He’s sixteen.” Law replies.

“Oh.” You say.

Law is easier to talk to than you thought. The topic quickly reels from the camp to Law’s medical career to the various series you both used to read— and Law has never gotten as animated as now, expressions exaggerated and voice tinted with a childish excitement. 

You can’t help but laugh. Not at Law, but with the contagious happiness that is spilling from him. The sun is making everything better. You welcome the warmth with open arms.

It’s been around three hours since you left the apartment. The streets are mostly empty. Occasionally, the two of you have been stepping into empty shops in search of the batteries Law so desperately needs. It’s the third one, always the third one, that you enter where you find something you need. 

The cracked glass door tears away easily with your kick. The shop is dark, but with your bat, the lack of light does not scare you. You shuffle around first, doing an interior check. When all you find is the crack of plastic bits underfoot and the scent of dust, you motion Law inside as well. There isn't much as you slowly look around, browsing the empty shelves until something makes contact with your foot and shoots across the aisle. 

“You okay?” You hear Law ask from the other side. 

“Yes.” You call back. You look down to see what you kicked. It’s a little toy plane, it’s bulky body speaking of a potential battery cavity. You pick the toy up. It’s heavy and full of dust. You turn it around, blowing the dust off the cover, and pop it open. 

Inside are batteries! AA ones at that— and you quickly unlatch the rest of the cover, ripping out the pair. 

“Here!” You run around the isle, handing them over to Law, who eases his bag from his arm, and sets it on the ground. You help him unzip the top, and are surprised to see the contents, finally. Endless clear plastic dishes and tubes and pipettes, all organized in sterilized packaging. He carefully rummages through the organized mess, pulling out the satellite phone. 

It’s almost like a radio, with how chunky it looks, but you guess it can be called a phone if you compare it to the ones from a century ago. You help him unlatch the back, popping out the dead batteries and switching them with the new ones. 

With bated breath, you wait for Law to turn it on. The seconds are agonizing— but you breathe a sigh of relief when the screen on the front lights up. 

“Oh good . . .” You say, mostly to yourself, as Law begins to dial. The sound of tapping buttons fills the air, and then you wait. 

“Law?” The line connects with a beep. A voice travels through from the other side. Law visibly deflates. He slides down against the counter. His coat sags against the floor, and Law leans forward, resting against your shoulder for support.

“Yes Bepo, it’s me.”

“Law!” You think this Bepo guy must be crying from the way his voice cracks. “I knew you’re okay! Guys! It’s Law—” The other side of the line descends into chaos. 

You turn to Law then, and he laughs. The sound is low, and he sags more of his weight against you, causing you to almost fall over. You curse at him, trying to push him off but Law doesn’t budge. He merely laughs harder. 

“Law?” The same voice comes through from the other side. “Tell us where you are!”

Law, in all his genius, begins answering in numbers. 

“How do you even know that shit?” You interrupt. “Just tell them the street we’re on. We all live here, you know.”

“Who’s that?”

Law hands the phone over to you, and you introduce yourself. There’s an apprehension when Bepo responds. He quickly asks for Law again.

“Franky will be there in around thirty minutes.” Bepo says. “Be careful, there is still a lot of them around the bridge.”

“Okay.” Law replies. He hangs up soon after, turning to you with a big grin. It’s almost childlike, and you return the smile, feeling true relief for the first time in days. There are people coming for you. All you need to do is survive for thirty more minutes. 

Suddenly, your airway starts to tickle. It must be from the dust, abundant and glittering under the light of the sun, and you sneeze, barely able to block the reaction and subsequently jamming your elbow right into Law’s ribs. 

He lets out a grunt— while your body tingles from the force. However, the dust does not stop its scratchy path into your mouth and nose.

“Sorry!” You wheeze, eyes watery. The dust is not helping. “I’m going to step outside.” You don’t bother to check if Law follows you or not. There, a few heaving breaths seems to be enough for your airway to clear. 

It’s nice, really nice outside. There’s a part of you that is suddenly sleepy. You’re reminded of cats, basking in the light of the sun as they take an afternoon nap. 

“How far are we from the river?” You ask suddenly. You’ve been to this part of town before, you think. There used to be a park around here that was quite popular with families. You don’t wait for Law when you start walking. It’s like something’s pulling you beneath your feet, and nothing else seems to matter. Nothing else but the sunny skies and the growing sound of rushing water. 

“We shouldn’t go too far.” You hear Law say beside you. 

But there isn’t anything out on the streets. And it’s so nice outside. But you’ve never been this much of an outdoorsy person. Maybe it’s the fact that things are going to be okay for the first time in a long while. But then, you’re not quite sure why you’re so eager to be outside, either. 

You’re not sure for how long you walk. But it was long enough that the road suddenly breaks into a little patch of woods, growing downhill to the riverbank. Under the sun, the river is glimmering. The water rushes by with a speed you can see even from here. And just out of curiosity, that morbid, deadly thing, you step out to the street, where the view of the bridge would be the clearest. 

Like before, the bridge was swarmed with zombies. But now, somehow, the fear you were engulfed with before has faded. They’re still gross, disgusting. Stinking of death. You don’t shake. Not even when a few turn and spot you far too soon, beginning to tumble after you in a big wave. However, a curious thing catches your attention. On the tops of some of the zombie heads, you think you see sprouts. White and green, growing at different heights and different sizes. You don’t get a chance to understand what you’re seeing because Law starts to leave. 

This time, he makes sure to grab your hand. 

The sun is hot on top of your head. You tire just as easily as you did a week ago, but this time, Law makes sure you keep up. The zombies are as slow as ever. Like always, you mutter thanks to whatever is out there that’s keeping the zombies slow. Law’s steps are fast and sure, and you rely on his momentum to keep you going. But then the sound of an engine catches your attention. You turn back, and from across the white bridge, you see a truck. It’s painted blue and red, obnoxious with stripes and stars. But that’s not why you can’t pull your eyes away. 

You haven't seen a working motor vehicle since the military pulled out. The truck charges across the bridge, driving like there is unlimited access to gas. It launches bodies over the railings, crushing them under its massive wheels. 

Law stops, and you crash into him, unable to take your eyes off of it. Then it drives off the bridge and makes a sharp right turn right towards you.

It crushes through the hoard so easily, splashing body parts and fluids everywhere. Some of it lands on your jacket, and you hurry with Law to get out the way as the truck drives in a circle around you, crushing all the zombies all the while the booming reverberation of hard bass, muffled by the truck windows, thunder around you. When the last of the danger in your immediate area disappears, the window in the passenger seat rolls down. Immediately, some heavy rock song begins pouring out the windows. Law gestures at the people inside to turn it down, and the music begins to fade to a more tolerable volume. 

You blink against the shine of the truck, trying to catch a glimpse of your rescuers. Just inside the passenger’s side, you see a man with short green hair. He’s laying leisurely against the seat, hands behind his head, appearing to be asleep despite the pounding bass from a moment ago.

“Traffy! It’s super to see you alive! What’s up with the arm?” From behind the green haired man, you see another person. The reflection of his sunglasses catches your eyes first, then the volume of shocking blue hair next. His voice is loud and boisterous, and the Hawaiian shirt he wears is too colourful and far too clean. It’s almost too much for you after this week of somber death and the struggle to survive. You understand the power of a positive attitude— but this is too much. You reach out, grabbing onto Law’s coat. He shifts, blocking you from view. 

“Fractured it.” Law says, tone flat and bored. “Is Chopper good to take a look at it today?”

“Absolutely!” The driver sends the both of you a large thumbs up from inside the truck. It then shifts into a pointer finger, aimed straight at you. “And who’s this?” 

You gulp, and say your name. The air shifts slightly as the man with the green hair cracks an eye open, looking you up and down. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. He’s dangerous. But you can face danger. 

You lift your chin, stepping out from behind Law, shoving your shaking hands into your pockets.

“No bites?” The green haired man asks.  

Law shakes his head. “I can confirm not.”

They seem to take Law’s word for it. The driver’s smile is back. “Super! Get in the back and we’ll go.” 

“He’s Franky, and the other guy is Zoro.” Law whispers to you he moves to open the backseat. The door doesn’t budge.

“Hey.” He says. “Open the door.”

Franky shoots him an exaggerated look of despair.

“I know someone who will get mad if you get the goo on the seats.” 

“Does that even matter right now?” Law sighs. “Did you not bring plastic sheets?”

“Forgot it.” Zoro shrugs. 

Yikes. You’re not sure your rescuers actually cared about the two of you at all. The back of the truck is open to the elements and very big. You’ve never ridden in the open trunk of a truck before. It’s an experience you fancied. The idea of the wind flowing through your hair, the sun pouring down on your face—

“That’s fine. We can sit in the trunk.” You say to Law.

He nods, and the two of you make your way to the back. Popping the trunk open, you climb up first, dropping the bags and weapons on the floor of the trunk. Then, you reach out to help Law up. He takes your hand, and steps up against the little ledge where a license plate used to be, boosting himself up to sit beside you. You pull up the open back of the truck trunk, feeling the ledge click back in place. 

“Y’all good back there?” You hear Franky shout. 

“Yes!” You answer. 

The truck shoots off before you can sit down. 

You’re hit instantly with a hard gust of wind. It blows you up and back, threatening to knock you against the railing of the trunk. Law grabs you before it can happen. His hand is warm against your wrist. He pulls you down beside him, leaning against the little window at the back of the seats. There, the hood shelters you somewhat from the artificial breeze, and you watch as the truck turns around crumbling streets and abandoned skyscrapers, until it’s barrelling down the very same bridge you and Law worked so hard to get to. 

Railings and zombies and the river below rip past you, and you can’t help but gaze at the flickering sunlight reflecting across the water below. Turning forwards, the only thing you can see is the noon cityscape in front of you, receding with each second. The last week of terrible things seem to shrink with it. Everything you experienced growing less and less, until it’s just a little speck in a snowglobe, one the exact model of your ruined home. 

~~~~

The camp is not a ‘camp’. It’s a compound. 

You realize so when the gates open for the truck, tall, chain linked fences sliding towards the left, right as Franky slowed the truck down. You had peered over the edge, eyes growing wider the closer you got. There is a wall around the perimeter. It’s tall, taller than you sitting in the trunk of this huge truck. They're thick too, almost the length of your arm.

You turn to Law. “How big is this place?”

“The living area is two blocks. We’re planning on expanding the farm again soon.” He says. “But that’s not counting the energy and water systems. Altogether it’s around five. Franky built them before the city one went out. We’ve been using them since.”

“He’s amazing.” You say. 

The truck pulls to a stop at where you assume is its regular spot. The sound of gravel crunches under the wheels. It takes a second more of idling, the rumble of the engine reverberating through your body, before the truck stops. Like before, you carefully unlatch the trunk, hopping off onto the gravel floor. You look around. There are a few other vehicles parked around the courtyard. There seems to be another layer of walls built out from a house, keeping the parking lot and gate from the rest of the camp. You turn around, getting your stuff out of the trunk. 

You help Law slip his bag over his shoulder. Holding out Kikoku, you are pleasantly surprised when he tells you to keep holding her for him. Then, the two of you set off behind Franky and Zoro. They enter the house, past the reinforced front door and the barren insides. You think there are smears of blood on the walls. You don’t want to know. Keeping your head down, you keep walking, staying in line behind Law. Then, you reach the back door. 

They push open the exit, and you’re blinded for a moment. 

Then you see everything. Plants, trees, flowers and grass. Houses with intact windows and people. Not a lot, but still many enough to remind you of a nice day out in the city. You step out behind Law, amazed by everything you’re seeing. There’s conversation bustling, voices carrying over with the wind. You look around, trying to comprehend everything. The contrast from outside the walls of this place pricks at your nerves, and you shuffle closer to Law, unsure of where you’re even going as you make your way down the street at a brisk pace. 

“We’re going to report to the main office first. And we have to let everyone know you’re here too now.” Law says. He’s looking at you with understanding. 

You hope it’s not because you look just as frazzled as you feel. 

Either way, it’s too weird. The streets are clean, the houses painted colourfully in various vibrant shades. There’s a liveliness here you haven’t felt in a long while, and even though the idea of safety is echoed in each brick, each breath and each step you take, you don’t feel it. 

“There’s a rec hall we can use further that way.” Law points towards somewhere in the distance. You nod, because what else can you do?

The four of you walk for another while in silence. The sun is still hot upon your skin, though it is further along the sky. You would usually be thinking of getting back to a safe place now— and today, your first instinct still is. But there is no more need to do that. It does quell your nerves, somewhat, when you finally enter the house that’s been remodeled as the main office. There are a few people there, a man with a penguin on his hat and a kid with a pink hat and blue overalls leaning against the counter, deep in some conversation filled with laughter.

“You’re back!” The kid turns at the sound of the four of you in the doorway, running up to you.

“This is Chopper.” Law supplies. You might’ve never guessed he was a doctor— for he gasps at the sight of Law’s arm. 

“Traffy! What happened to your arm?”

“I fractured it from a fall.” Law says. “Can you take a look at it today?”

The request for his medical aid seems to shift something in him. Chopper stands up taller, confidence growing on his face as he answers. “Of course! You can head to the clinic after you’re done here. I’ll go set everything up first!”

Chopper steps away from the counter, sliding a heavy book across the table under his arm. He waves at you, and you wave shyly back. Law has already crossed the three steps to the counter. The guy behind it reaches out, putting his shoulder as the penguin pom pom on his hat bobbles with the action. 

“Hey, Cap.” He grins from under the brim of his hat. “Glad to see you alive. I’ll let the others know you’re back.”

“This is Penguin.” Law says. “He’s a good friend of mine. He’ll get you in the registry. It’s just a good way to keep track of everyone here. If you leave the camp, you should let the main office know.”

Law, thankfully, stays with you through the whole process. It wasn’t long, per se, but the thought that you are being kept track of again after all this time was . . . somewhat unsettling. Either way, your name is now filed into one of the manila folders tucked into one of the large cabinets behind the makeshift desk. Sometime after Penguin started talking to you, Franky and Zoro left. Now, it’s only Law and you. You exit the house. 

“I’ll show you around.” Law offers. “But we should go see Chopper first.” 

At the mention of the boy, you suddenly remember something.

“He called you Traffy right? Is the nickname a thing here?” You tease. “Should I be calling you that too?”

“If you call me that I’m throwing you out personally.”

“Okay. I won’t.” You say. 

Despite his joking tone, it doesn’t quell the anxiety that’s been bubbling under your skin. It’s all far too pristine. It’s crazy that these people were just . . . thriving while you and so many others are struggling to even survive. And they seem to value the sanctity of this place over the value of outside lives. You can tell they have the resources to help much more than just themselves— but it doesn’t seem like they even want to try. 

Still, you instinctively follow him, staying close even when they swarm Law. They talk over each other enthusiastically. Law merely stands there, a soft smile you’ve learned to recognize growing on his face. 

You stand to the side, unsure what to do. 

It’s not often you feel out of place. But here, at this compound, with the sun shining over you and safety aplenty inside those barricades, you don’t even know how to feel. You suppose the usual emotions, joy, relief, even anger at these people for the unfairness of it all; but you feel nothing. 

All you want is some food, a shower maybe— with their running water— sleep, and, a dastardly thing at the back of your mind: Law.

You watch him talk to his friends, so relieved to see them again after this hell of a week he lived through. He has a life here already. And you have no right to assume he owes you anything. You can make your own life here if they accept you. So the first step to take is to prove you are worthy of living here. You steel yourself, ready to take the first step away—

But then he looks back at you, and your resolve crumbles. 

He calls your name.

You step forward.

And he next few hours are a blur. 

A shower, a tour, eating with everyone—

Law leads you through winding halls, between buildings, and leaves you with others while he goes off to do something by himself. There are too many people with too many personalities for your poor, isolated mind to keep up with.

Franky, Zoro, those two you met earlier. Zoro still stares at you with distrust. 

Nami— orange hair, orange tangerines. She offered you one when you sat down next to her in the dining hall. 

A tall woman with black hair named Robin, who showed you the library— yes, there is a library— 

Sanji, who made dinner, Brook, who sings, and Jimbe, who’s able to lift the long, wooden tables so easily when there are too many people at one and another is needed.

And Luffy, with his sunshine smile and something terrifying behind his eyes. He scares you the most.

There’s something nauseating about them. 

It’s halfway through the night, after you begin falling asleep right where you sit while everyone else is singing and dancing, that you realize why.

They’re too happy here.

~~~~

The taste of fresh fruit lingers upon your lips.

Dinner was many dishes of vegetables, flavoured, seasoned, and platters of fresh cut meat. You wanted to eat all of it, stuff yourself full until you can’t possibly down anything more but Law stopped you. ‘It’s not good to eat so much after months of malnutrition,’ he had said, so you had looked around sadly, and picked a small bowl of fresh strawberries to eat. 

They were ripe and sweet. A taste you never thought you’d experience again.

You’re so tired. But you still can’t fall asleep. 

The lingering remains of the day catch at the edges of your mind. The camp is safe, but it’s a safety that only comes from not knowing what you don’t know. It’s a utopia of ignorance, and you, with all the horrors you’ve experienced woven deep into your bones, you can’t let go of the way it’s shaped you, knowing the danger that lies just beyond these fresh, pristine walls.

But then again, everyone else is happy. No one is worried. Maybe in the end, it’s you who’s wrong. Maybe it's only you who doesn’t belong here.

You sit up. Despite the endless hurricane of thoughts rushing around your head, one thing stands above the rest. 

Law.

You need to see him. To feel him under your fingers and know that he’s alive.

You’re lucky Penguin gave you the room beside Law’s. You don’t think you can stomach bumping into anyone else at the moment. The Strawhats— as friendly as they are— make you uneasy. It’s in the way they smile, living on without a care in the world while the rest of the city is slowly dying, turning into dust under the light of the sun. 

You look both ways before shuffling out of your room, arms chilling with the new T-shirt that’s been gifted to you. There’s a little skull on it, very much like the rotting zombies outside. You knock on his door. Softly. Did Law even hear it— if he is awake? You aren’t sure. But you wait there anyways; and the seconds tick on and on in the moonlight-illuminated corridor. 

Hm, you think. Seems like he’s not awake after all. You turn, resigned to your sleepless fate, but his door opens. 

Law stands there, head free of his hat, the bags under his eyes somehow even more prominent in the moonlight. You think you look the same, haggard, even after this day of supposed relaxation after . . . everything. 

Law whispers your name softly. It’s barely there, like a gentle breeze. 

You swallow your apprehension, and whisper back. “Can I sleep with you?”

He doesn’t say anything. 

He steps aside. 

You enter his room. It’s tidy. Completely ordinary. A small desk sits by the entrance and a bed is shoved into the corner, two sides against the wall.

Law closes the door behind you, then moves to stand by his bed, waiting. You carefully step towards it. It feels like you’re intruding, forcing your way into Law’s space. But then Law lifts the blanket, and your worries fall away one by one. He’s here. And he won’t leave you. You slip in under the sheets. Law’s bed is warm, and smells like him. You lay down, then roll twice toward the wall until you feel the hard surface pressing against your back. 

He follows, easing himself back onto the bed and scooting close. You can’t see him in the darkness, but you do feel him. He sets his good arm over your shoulders, pulling you in close. His breath is warm. His skin is cold. You snuggle closer, mindful of his now casted arm. 

You can’t believe he still wants to touch you, even after knowing you killed someone. You don’t know why you want to keep him close even after he almost left you to die. Luffy and his friends, as much as Law trusts them, scare you. There is a wariness you feel around them. They don’t see you as one of their own. Not yet. Law is, but not you. 

You’ve seen what Law thinks of people he does not value. You’ve seen what he does to them in times of crisis.

But right now, with Law’s arm settling over you and your head tucked into his chest, nothing else matters. You’re safe. And Law is safe too.

You close your eyes.

A/N: STRAWHATS CAMEO‼️‼️‼️

This chapter was lowkey so hard to finish (because of this math assignment that's due TOMORROW actually killing me) but it's done! There is a possibility i'll come back and rework it in the future, but for now I'm happy with it!

This was all I had planned for the event. There's a lot that happened, and there's a lot that is going to happen in universe, but that story is for another time. I like ambiguous endings, and the image I had for the end of this story has always been something of a suspicious utopia in the middle of chaos. I also really like the concept of the strawhats being scary as shit in canon, so i played a little with that idea here.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading! There might be more to come, but that is not guaranteed. I am very busy with school and I only write for fun 😔 I have a few OC x Canon stories I've been working on (notable ones include a oneshot Cowboy AU train robbery and a longer Mafia AU mashed with a Hades and Persephone retelling, and a random Kaya centered Vampire AU that has a Law and OC cameo) (the canon character in the former two is Law. I'm just a Law fan what can i say) that I'm thinking about reworking as x Readers and posting here. Let me know if you're interested and I can make a post about them.

some lore for anyone interested: yes, the zombies are going through another mutation! What is that going to bring? only more horror! They're turning into plants with airborne spores!!!

The strawhats are in a really well reinforced compound. In my head, all the named Hearts are there too. They've got their own farm, sources of protein, etc. (TW ahead: cannibalism mention in next paragraph)

I wanted to explore the possibility of cannibalism in this AU as well but this was part of the SFW portion and cannibalism was probably pushing that line a little too far. This entire fic was probably pushing that line LOL

Either way, They're resourceful people with a lot of different skills, and some are lowkey zombie killing machines, that's why they managed to build these things and survive for so long. Zoro also has his swords. The zombie population around the camp is close to zero. If i do add onto this fic in the future, I'll probably write something about an internal threat in the camp :)))

(a threat in a very familiar form of reader)

(short reacts) | "you confess when you're totally shitfaced drunk" + one piece men

summary: you had WAY past your drinking limit and now you're just exploding with LOVE for him.

characters: crocodile, mihawk, marco, ace, shanks, law, corazon

• ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ •

CROCODILE

You’re swaying in his arms, eyes glossy, cheek pressed against his chest.

“Croco-babyyy…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I LOVE you.”

He goes rigid.

You grab the front of his shirt.

“Like SOOO much. Like, if someone tried to stab you, I'd bite them. Right on the ankle.”

You squint.

“Your scary lil hook hand is soooo cool, I love it. You're my favorite angry man.”

He malfunctions. Literally just stares at you like you're an alien who dropped from heaven.

“You're drunk.”

“I'm in loveeeeeeee!”

You pass out mid-hug.

He just stands there. Frozen.

Mutters:

“...What the hell am I supposed to do with that.”

(Spoiler: He tucks you in and sits there watching you sleep like a guard dog with heartburn.)

MIHAWK

You cling to his arm like a koala. You’re warm and soft and talking a mile a minute.

“You’re sooo handsome. Like, it’s RUDE actually. I have to look away sometimes cause you’re too hot and I feel like I’m gonna die.”

He blinks.

“You’re intoxicated.”

“I’m INTO YOU.”

He blinks again.

You poke his chest with a pout.

“Do you know how annoying it is to like someone who looks like a vampire prince and has very judgmental eyebrows?”

He raises one.

“THAT.”

Then you melt into his coat and sigh.

“I love you sooooooo much… If you asked me to run away and start a farm I’d do it. For you. I'd plant cucumbers.”

He doesn’t sleep that night.

MARCO

You climb into his lap like a sleepy kitten.

“Marrrrrrcooooo…”

“Yeah, baby?”

You press your forehead to his.

“I love you SO much it’s dumb. Like, I wanna kiss your face and also cry and also buy you matching socks.”

He laughs softly.

“That’s a lotta feelings, huh?”

“It’s not my fault your smile makes me feel like life is worth living.”

He actually covers his face because holy shit that one got to him.

“I’m gonna fucking die, yoi.”

“Noooo you’re not, I love you too much. I won’t let you die. I’ll protect you with SOCKS.”

You fall asleep on him mid-rant.

He kisses your hair and whispers:

“You’re killin’ me, songbird.”

ACE

You run up to him and tackle-hug him.

“ACE I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!!”

“Wha—?!! Are you okay?!”

“I’m in love with you.”

“YOU’RE WHAT?!”

“Like a lot. Like, if you turned into a plant I’d water you.”

He’s already spiraling. Red. Stammering. Sweating.

“I—uh—what?! When?! Why?!!”

“Cause you’re cute and warm and you make my tummy do loop-de-loops.”

“SO DO YOU!!! WAIT—NO—WHAT AM I SAYING?!”

“Okay, wait, but would you love me if I was a worm?”

You both pass out cuddling under a table with Ace going into specific details about he'd take care of you if you were a worm and how you'd take care of him if he was a plant.

Sabo finds you both crying and whispers:

“Idiots. They deserve each other.”

SHANKS

You stumble in. Red-faced. Teary-eyed. Drunk on rum and love.

“Shanks…”

“Here we go…”

You grab his coat.

“I’m gonna say something crazy.”

“Hit me.”

“I’m in love with you. Like, I’d kill a seagull for you.”

“...That’s a weird standard but I’ll take it.”

“And I think your laugh is sexy. And your scars are cool. And your nose is NICE. And I’d marry you. Right now.”

He pauses.

Smiles.

“Say it again tomorrow when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

“Okay. But you’re mine now.”

“Deal. By the way, what’s your ring size?”

LAW

You shuffle in with a flushed face and a stuffed penguin.

“Trafalgaaaar…”

“Don’t slur my name.”

“I love you.”

He looks up from his book like you just summoned an ancient evil.

“Excuse me?”

“So much. You’re smart. And hot. And I like your hands. And your voice. And if you died I’d start a cult.”

“...A what.”

“A cult. With matching outfits. And hats.”

“You’re fevered.”

“I’m in love.”

You lean on his shoulder and then pass out on his lap.

He doesn’t move for two hours.

CORAZON

You run into him mid-giggle.

“ROSINANTEEEE!!”

He flails.

You grab his face and kiss his cheek.

“You are the love of my LIFE. Your laugh is cute. Your coat is STUPID but I LOVE IT. I love YOU.”

He goes full tomato. Tears are already streaming down his face.

You write “I’D DIE FOR YOU” on a sticky note and slap it to his chest.

Then immediately fall asleep in his arms.

He’s crying and hugging you and writing down “I LOVE YOU TOO” over and over and over.

He genuinely just loves you so much.

WIP game!

Thank you for the tag mootie @chibinasuu

•~•~•~•

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the |files in your wip folder, regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have wips. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

•~•~•~•

1. Anxieties (Straw Haw x Reader)

2. Sleepy Stalls (Trafalgar Law x !Fem!Reader)

3. Card DECLINED (Monster Trio+Law x Reader)

4. A Sniper’s Love (Usopp x !Fem!Reader)

5. Death Of Pizzaz (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

6. You’re Going Down Shits and Giggles

(Roronoa Zoro x !Fem!Reader)

•~•~•

I’m excited to get these done! Be sure to ask questions! 🫶

| @ink-perfect @angel1010xx @slowcatsisland

If you wanted to join >:)

•~•~•

What appeals to me about whump: an incomplete list

you may think it’s no big deal but every sweet interaction is actually the most important thing in the world. sooo. take that

Lay Off! |Master-List|

Roronoa Zoro x !Fem!Reader, fluff, angst/comfort, anxiety, reader snaps, anger-issues, make-up, swearing, lowkey made me tear up.

Summary: You get overstimulated and finally break...

A/N: I have finally revised this fic. I am so glad, because I can’t believe I WROTE THIS 😭😭 There might be a few slip-ups, but it’s WAY better from before.

(Taking a break changes your grammar and set-up istg.)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

It'd been mid-day.

The hours had been painstakingly fucking long, and you'd cooped yourself up in your room to avoid further attention.

You didn't know what set you off, but you just wanted it to stop.

Your skin crawled, and your head felt like it was going to explode. Your limbs helplessly flexed and turned, attempting to alieve your symptoms, but nothing would let up. You were wound. And you were wound tight. Your body wouldn’t let you loose, leaving you to suffer as anxiety prickled over your skin.

You tried to distract yourself with a small craft, you really did, but only more frustration welled. You couldn’t keep still, and you finally cursed. Hands slammed against the desk, sending your paper crafts across the wood, into your mess of scraps.

Tears welled, and you pushed yourself away with your rolling chair—avoiding the further abuse you’d inflict on your workspace. Heat raged, and your nails drug through your hair, trying to pull yourself out of your head, but it wasn’t enough. No matter the distance you put within yourself, it never felt right.

You were stressed, anxious, and torn that you pushed the ones you loved away. And you could never fucking explain why. You just felt so angry. So turmoiled, that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself.

Your fists curled in your hair and a burning sensation followed, leaving you to feel something other than your pain.

But the unexplainable feeling grew, and it coursed through you like an endless loop of rage and helplessness. You didn’t know how to control it, and you didn’t know how to deal with it, you just couldn’t function.

Left, to right. Over and over, you paced your room. Trying to calm down, but a distant knock echoed.

"Hey, lunch is..." Usopp's voice trailed off as he saw your state, and he quickly backed off.

"Uh, I'll let Sanji know you—“

"Just go, please!" you snapped, banging your fists against your head. Your chest heaved, and Usopp’s breath caught.

"Yep! On it!" he squeaked, shutting your door.

Silence washed over the room, but peace didn't follow like it usually did. It was unbearable, and your body felt intolerable. Like you needed to do something, or you needed something. You couldn’t remember what or why, and nothing clearly came through…

The restlessness grew, and it was boiling.

You shakily went back to your desk, picking up the small paper you'd originally thrown with your trembling hands, trying to convince yourself it'd be okay. That you'd get through it.

You could just mend it. You could do it. It'd be okay. Just calm down.

You're fine.

It was just some small papery flowers, how hard could it be? Anyone could do it—you had this. You always did. You got frustrated and eventually came back to fix it. You just needed time.

So why couldn't you do it right now? You gave yourself plenty of time.

Though you still couldn't you function, and couldn't you think. Why the hell was it that you felt like you had no time? Like there was nothing but everything coming at you all at once? Why couldn't you—

"Oi, what's going on?" Zoro appeared by the door, and his voice was firm—steady. His presence was grounding, and it’d been something you’d always loved, but your body strangely hated it in the moment.

You were too lost in it to realize, but Usopp had probably been worried.

He must have told Zoro, because everyone knew he'd been your paper-weight. He kept you together, like a stack of paper, or in other words—aligned control. But, in the moment, you couldn’t understand that, and you’d eventually come to regret it later.

Zoro was tense at your silence, as he wasn’t often familiar with it. He was used to your laughter, and your clumsy remarks, even your stupid comments.

But he knew that wasn’t always you.

You kept yourself together well, until you couldn’t and you hid. He wasn’t an emotional guru or anything, but he’d been attentive enough to pick up on your behaviors.

Especially, when things took a turn for the worse.

He'd easily seen it this morning when you came in for break-fast and left, sparing no good-morning, no sweet smile, no teasing—you were just struggling.

You weren’t acting like you, and he hated it.

Zoro wouldn’t seem the empathetic type, but when it came to the ones he loved—his chest would uncomfortably ache. Especially when it came to you, who held herself so high yet was hurting so much deep down.

The sniper had startled him awake, quickly telling him—or, rather rambling to him, that you weren’t okay. It seemed rather urgent, and he looked offly looked worried, so Zoro obviously wouldn’t set it aside.

If you needed help, or guidance—you just did.

There was no easier way to put it, and it wasn’t embarrassing, it was just life.

And Zoro was never one to bullshit, but you could be sensitive at times. It wasn’t a bad thing, it just made things harder for you.

You could get worked up over the smallest of things, unintentionally snapping—or taking it the wrong way, blocking yourself off…

He’d seen the signs.

He always had.

And this was clearly one of those times, where something had gotten the better of you.

But little did he know, it wasn't just your anger. It wasn’t like the other times, something was painfully different. This was deeper.

Calmly, Zoro spoke your name.

You were quick to snap, but you turned away covering your face. You tried to calm yourself and catch your breath—but yet again, it wasn’t helping.

"Yes, I know, just give me second.” you replied, uncharacteristically hitting your desk. You hands slammed your poor creation, and tears began to well. You were cracking, and more frustration poured.

You snapped again, and a curse flew out your lips as you kicked your desk. It was harsh, and you were sent roughly back against the wall in your chair—creating a slam.

At your action, he knew you were overwhelmed. Hell, he’d felt it as soon as he came in, but as you curled in on yourself—digging your nails, it only confirmed it.

A muffled sob broke through the silence, and he was beside you in seconds.

In two steps, he’d crouched down infront of you.

His calloused hands, prevented you from hurting yourself, though his touch wasn’t rough. It was strong, and it was strong enough to keep you from pushing away or thrashing.

He needed you here, with him, and not lost somewhere else.

"Breathe." he ordered.

"I can’t, just stop, don’t—fucking touch me!” you choked, attempting to squirm, "Zoro stop it.”

Your lover doesn’t break, nor’ does he stop. He only holds you tighter, as if he knows you’ll only spiral further.

Your breath is labored, struggled—and he can already see you slip.

His gaze softens, and he steadily pulls you into his lap. Zoro doesn't comfort you with words, but he does with the way he knows how—his presence.

By being there, holding you—grounding you, tightening his grip as you stubbornly try to push away, he doesn't let go.

He silently urges you to relax; creating absent circles over your back, as his hand tightens at the base of your neck, pushing you easily to his shoulder.

His legs lock to come around your own, pulling, to keep you in.

"Stop fighting me, you'll only make it worse," his voice rumbles over the crown of your head, and you can’t help but feel comforted.

You want to agree, you want to stop, but your body doesn't. It involuntarily moves, and you cry as you push against his chest, growing light-headed.

But the dizziness forces your body to relax.

Your shoulders slack, and you ease. Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath.

"You good, now?" he asks, keeping a gentle grip.

You sniffle, nodding as you can't bare yourself to look up at him. You don't even know what came over you, and you can barely remember what happened.

You feel like an idiot.

Embarrassed, guilty—ashamed, just wrong.

"Yeah, I’m sorry.” you whispered, leaning back.

Though Zoro doesn’t let up, he keeps you in his lap and his hands shift to cradle your face.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” his thumbs wipes your tears, and you can’t help but lean into them.

“I should’ve come down earlier, I didn’t know you were getting so worked up.”

"It's okay," you mumbled, lowering your gaze, but he tilts you back up.

"____, it's not. You know that, what’s going on?”

"I don't know," you manage out, and his look crushed you.

You know he wants to understand, he always does, the whole crew does, but you’re not even sure yourself. A weight topples over you, and you suddenly remember the way you snapped at Usopp.

Shit. You didn’t mean that—you didn’t mean any of this.

Why weren’t you doing anything right?

"I just, I don’t know.” your voice broke, and you turned away. “I couldn’t stop, it wouldn’t go away.”

"Then, why didn't you come to me?"

"Because, it's too much, everything feels like too much.” you whimpered, covering a hand over your mouth. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to snap at you—or Usopp. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

"Hey—stop, look at me." he adjusted you forward, and this time he held your gaze.

His eyes carried a warmth, and it felt like a safety you never had the privilege of experiencing.

"Sorry,” you whispered.

"No. Don’t. Don’t, go apologizing. No one needs that.” Zoro’s hand ran through your hair, and he focused forward. You needed to hear this, and he’d say it over and over until you didn’t.

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling something, no one expects you to be perfect all the time—and I sure as hell don’t give a shit if you snap at shit you didn’t mean.” his lips twitched into a smile, as he remembered a time you cursed at Luffy for grabbing your food.

He liked your unexpected anger, even if it was this.

“The crew sees, I see you. And that’s all that matters.” he murmurs, and he sees you crack a smile.

Good. You needed that.

“You hear me?”

“Yeah, I do.” you sniffled, nodding your head, “loud and clear.”

He let out a breath, “good. Now C’mere.”

Zoro shifted, leaning against the wall to hug you close. He was being soft, and he was being kind.

In his own Zoro, way of course, but he was still there. He always would be.

He cupped the side of your head, letting you bury yourself into the crook of his neck.

Your lover wanted to take away anything that had harmed you, but that took time—and he realized that. But he didn’t mind hugging you a little longer to fix it.

He wasn’t going anywhere, and little did he know, this was all anyone could ask for.

Someone who still loved you at your lowest.

zzz

Bitterspicy? |Master-List|

Sanji x !Fem!Reader, fluff, crack, swearing, bubbly clumsy reader, cuteness aggression, one-shot

You check out what Sanji’s making and get a little too curious…

Like stuff like this? Check out my masterlist, there’s one much similar but a little spicier. Also please check out this amazing artist! She does awesome commissions: @salibadati

•-•-•—•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•—•

You glided down the hall, hopping down the stairs as you excitedly made your way to the kitchen. You were eager to tell the cook you’d caught a fish. Or—well, somewhat, it was a flounder of the sorts, a mixed half-seabeast that left the scaredy cat trio utterly petrified.

Regardless, it’d been a fight to reel in, but thanks to the boys it hadn’t been too much of an issue—to you at-least. Your pole had been the lucky one, and you’d gladly handed it over to Luffy who’d been happy to eat it.

The sea-beast was large, large enough to keep a steady food supply for a week—that is if the captain didn’t eat it.

Swiftly passing the kitchen doors, a heavenly smell drafted through. Something similar to curry, maybe with peppers, left a comforting sense to your nose along with the herbs. You smiled, swinging yourself around the service hatch.

“Sanji! Guess what I caught,” you pipped, hanging on the corner.

“Hm? What’d you catch love?” his tone was gentle, using something he only used for you.

Sanji’s back was turned, and you couldn’t help but notice how nice his tux carved to his shoulders. His sleeves were rolled, accentuating his fore-arms that left your mouth watering.

Gosh, he could be so clueless. Or he couldn’t. You could never tell with him, from teasing to showing off to acting oblivious and naive he was a mix of the three.

“I have no idea,” you muttered, coming up behind him. Along the counter, your attention drifted to the organized ingredients he’d aligned in black and white bowls.

“It’s big and scaly though,” you shifted a bowl to check its contents, curious to what it was. “I’ve never seen anything like it, it’s weird. It has whiskers like a cat—but it looks like a pufferfish mixed with a halibut.”

He hummed softly in response.

“Oh, and it was really snappy too. You shoulda’ seen Usopp, he was terrified,” you laughed, leaning over to smell some of them. Your nose was immediately assaulted with spice and warmth, and you careened back.

Sanji nodded, listening with a smile. Your laughter was music to his ears, and he’d wished he could replay it over and over.

“Big and scaly? Did you catch a sea king?”

“No, I don’t think so, Robin said it’s high in protein though. She even pulled out a fancy fish-log to make sure.”

“Hm, well that sounds promising, good job Love we needed that,” he praised, stirring a pot he’d only break out for stews and curries.

The acknowledgment flew over your head as you sniffed a bowl’s contents, grown oblivious to the use of his affectionate tones. He threw love and praises like a child blowing dandelion seeds, leaving fluttering white fuzzlies of positivity you’d sprout from.

“Thank you,” you chirped, popping carelessly beside him.

“Zoro’s cutting it down for us now actually, so you don’t have to. I figured you were busy making something,” you jumped, leaning into his side, creeping slowly to check the food you so craved. You always knew it’d look good, but that didn’t change the fact you still wanted to see it.

The steam hit you like a burning fog, making your eyes water.

“Finally, moss-head’s actually pulling his weight,” he snarked, hovering his hand to quickly shield your face.

“Careful it’s hot sweetheart.”

“Yeah I know, it just smells good.” you shrugged, wandering back over to the small dishes.

The mindless compliment sent his heart racing, and his eyes turned to hearts. “Why thank you my Angel, you’re too kind.” He swirled, mixing the turmeric colored dish.

“Of course,” you muttered, sniffing a spoon of something you expected to be sweet, but it stung, yet again leaving your eyes to water.

You dropped the spoon, leaning back, coughing slightly.

“Phew, the fuck is that?”

“Oh? Those are the chillies,” he laughed, adding some cloves to the pot, keeping casual in your presence. You joined often in the kitchen, appearing time and time again and it’d just become a norm between you too. He watched as you inspected, he told, and you helped. It was a sweet balance, teetering on the edge of chaos with your clumsiness. Rather blunt recklessness in his opinion. But he’d loved you the same.

He found it endearing.

Though, this time you’d inspected a bowl of something sweet. Stark contrast to chilies and cayenne peppers from before, you simply wanted to taste. And the thought had been to quick to stop.

Your eyes wandered, purely drawn to Sanji’s fluent skills. Chopping vegetables and chicken so perfectly, it put his knives to shame.

You’d ironically been mesmerized, due to the fact he was so slim and tall, manly, and the literally epitome of a gentleman. Yet he worked with knives and food like a ballerina to her shoes.

Lost in the maze of your admiration, you’d mindlessly put a bit too much on the spoon to try, and the bitterness hit hard. You hadn’t paid attention, and now you payed the price.

A muffled cough sounded throughout the kitchen, and a hand flew to cover it, but it was too late. Your eyes watered and you immedialty regretted the impulsive decision.

Poofft . . .

Sanji paused. His cutting slowed, and he’d gently placed the knife down to wipe his hands. Maybe you’d sniffed the wrong bowl again? He thought, slowly turning around. But gods was he wrong.

Oh. Oh. Okay.

There was cinnamon everywhere. A clouded dust of brown had covered the counter, and he couldn’t even see your face. Had you—?

He urgently called your name, keeping ease.

“Mon Amour? Are you—is that the cinnamon?!”

He rushed to your side, eyes filled with concern as he finally met your teary ones. You turned to him in a coughing fit, splashing cinnamon painfully after. You owlishly blinked up at him, and his heart exploded at the sight.

His instincts told him to not make fun, but a light-hearted laugh escaped him before he’d grabbed a dampened towel for you.

His arms tenderly outstretched, wiping your face, chuckling, “Sweetheart what’d you even do?” he chided, sweeping his thumb over your chin.

“I didn’t mean’thu, I thought it—pff—“ another rasp of cinnamon launched between you, and you coughed. And he only laughed more.

Which turned to contagious giggles.

Sanji gingerly held your face, bringing your hand which held a cloth—close to your face.

He was truly your savior. Because you urgently spit it out, wincing.

“____, hun, here, there you go.” he said, pushing your brown tinged hair out of your face.

“Sorry,” you finally mumbled, surrendering in complete defeat and humiliation.

“I thought it was, I don’t know, like, edible—“

“It’s okay, you were just curious…though why you thought eating a spoonful of cinnamon was a good idea? I will never know,” he mused, looking quietly down to you. His thumb caressed your cheek and he fawned again. He squeezed your cheeks, and he was gone.

You looked absolutely adorable like this, and your perfume? Now infused with the spice? Did wonders.

This had to be what cuteness aggression was. Otherwise he wouldn’t be squeezing you so tight.

“Sanji let me go,” you muttered, struggling in the tight clasp of his hug. He only mumbled something whiny and incoherent in your ear, and your face felt like the burner of the stove.

“Just let me hold you, you’re too cute.”

You blushed, grumbling. What got slipped in his breakfast this morning? You rested your head on his shoulder and he tightened his grip, twirling you around.

You relaxed, giving into his affection. But smoke caught your glimpse.

“Uh, baby—“

“No. Let me hug you.”

“No you—Sanji!” You groaned, “The foods burning!”

Card DECLINED |Master-List|

Monster Trio+Law x !Fem!Reader, crack, fluff, modern-au, poor core (real), cashier is going THROUGH IT, !Early-relationship! , Ugh I thought this was so adorable, might be my favorite so far

They take you on a date and their card declines in-front of you...

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Luffy

100% bought it all on fast food, he holds a Guinness World Record for the most amount of food eaten, period.

Would be confused at first, and wouldn't get it till you finally told him somethings wrong with his card. He about shoved it in there 100x times...

"HAH!? Why's it not working!''

"Wait huh seriously? Aww man..."

He'd definitely apologize and laugh it off. But he'd silent judge his card for failing him now as he attempted to finally buy you something. He’d definitely go and text Nami to Venmo him some quick money for you--in which she'd automatically decline.

(Much like his card)

Your bf would grumble, but he'd be quick to mask it with his short attention span.

He ended up dragging you into another random store after finding a whopping 5 bucks on the ground, sopping wet and crumpled from the rain... But somehow the cashier accepted it out of pity and he'd managed to buy you a little doodad in exchange--coming up behind you with a surprise in hand.

He giddily spun you around gleaming with excitement as he pecked you on the cheek.

"Shisihi, look what I got youuu! It's awesome"

(It was a crooked hot-wheels, but you ended up putting it on your shelf to cherish it)

Zoro

Sake was his downfall. Alcohol as we all know is incredibly expensive so it wasn't even a surprise, you expected it to eventually happen with how much he loved his booze...

Moreover you'd think it was a turn off with all his bottles but he'd always been a responsible drinker, and he barely got drunk...maybe a few times if he'd finally eased up in your arms.

Though when he swiped his card, it hadn't gone through. He'd pause and play it off a first, trying again, but when the cashier finally told him their were insufficient funds he'd go beet red.

"I don't know what you're talking about, it's gotta be your stupid machine..."

Not slick, at. all.

He'd act dense abt it, though deep down he knew he royally fucked up, so much for a romantic date...

When you finally offered to pay, he stubbornly grumbled as you had placed some spare cash on the counter.

"Oi, You didn't have to do that..."

He wouldn't immediately say thank you, but he'd been quietly grateful you were smart to bring 'just in case' cash... which he'd also said wasn't necceasry... but look what happened.

You tended to be right in these scenarios.

A few days later he had begrudgingly said thank you and handed you some floppy but colorful flowers as he had randomly stopped by your house heading to work.

Coincidently getting lost, but he'd never admit it.

The offer was rather chaotic as you'd just gotten out of the shower, but it only made him more flustered.

"Didn't uh, mean to interrupt, just wanted to drop these off. And thank you for the other day."

Sanji

I physically cannot see this man's card declining, so he had probably used the wrong card...

But even if he did I could see him full on freaking out, like telling the cashier to run it again and crossing his arms as his fingers anxiously tapped on his arm. He almost went to call his bank until he realized it wasn't his main card and his embarrassed meter went through the roof.

He went pink, but as you offered to pay he immediately shut it down. Sanji would never let you pay for anything, he wanted to take care of you and spoil you like no other--so forget asking. Even if you weren't that far along in dating.

He'd rather search the floor for pennies than let you pay.

Though if you did somehow manage to pay, he'd pay you back beyonddd extra. Like I'm talking about full on flowers and little chocolates or anything romantic.

Even if you thought it was rude to accept, he'd quickly assure you it was okay and that 'he wanted to' so it didn't matter if it was 'payback' or not. He'd came over to hang out, and he'd gently grab your hand kissing it as he spoke with gentle words.

"My love, just take it please, it'd mean the world to me."

Law

Law's card wouldn't normally decline, but one of his transactions for his action figure(s) had finally come through and he didn't realized it till he'd taken you out for lunch.

The waiter had handed him back his card and he deadpanned for a moment--before telling them to try it again--but hopelessly it didn't make a difference. And to make things better the waiter outright said he was broke and needed a different form of payment.

Law would loathe the moment, feeling second-hand embarrassment for miles as he brooded wishing it happened anywhere else no mattering the time.

He'd be embarrassed, growing quiet with a darkened expression as he averted his gaze. Which it only intensified when you happily handed the waiter your card, assuring him it wasn't the end of the world... and that you were just happy to be here with him.

He had gone increasingly quiet, and you couldn't help but laugh as he covered his face with the tilt of his infamous hat.

"L-Let's just go."

This man would NEVER let it happen again, and he'd carefully watch his guilty spending habits with a sour expression. The thought of that moment practically kept him up at night.

Law didn't pay you back, but he'd taken a little time off work to spend more quality time with you as that seemed to make you happy. And your doctor-in-training wanted nothing more than to see your smile.