I Changed The Background To Gray Because The White Was Hurting My Eyes

In a perfect world, Sora and her children would be having lovely sitcom moments like…

Reiju accidentally has 2 dates to the prom (she takes them both at the same time because she’s so cool)

Sanji broke a window with a baseball and is ashamed.

Yonji has a date but he doesn’t know what to do so Sanji, Ichiji, and Yonji crash his date and give him very bad advice.

Ichiji goes off to college

Niji drives the family car into the kitchen and runs away

Sanji gets addicted to caffeine pills and breaks down while singing the Pointer Sister's "I'm So Excited" in front of a crowd of ladies

Tashigi thinks Reiju has a shark fetish because Reiju was watching lesbian porn but quickly switched it to a shark documentary when she saw Tashigi walking in the room and now Tashigi keeps trying to seduce her with sharks.

Ichiji starts up a manhunt through the back alleys of Philadelphia while Niji and Yonji acquire a taste for human flesh.

The family does a claymation Christmas special.

fem zosan based on that one game and the fact that Sanji is one of those who makes haircuts for strawhats

Oh Law.

Crappost

Update 2:

Is done

i went searching joy and found it in the muppet movie

Can I please request reader gifting sanji a new tie. It's one of those gimic types (shaped like a fish or with a naked lady underneath type) and he appreciates the gift so he has to wear it but reader keeps gifting him increasingly ugly ties until sanji eventually breaks and has to tell him that while he loves the gifts he can't take one more ugly tie.

(Sorry for all the sanji! I definitely have a favourite, hope you don't get bored of writing for him <3)

Anon, do not apologise. I too, like you, have an obsession with this man. I could write about him for DAYYYYYYS.

I really liked this prompt^^ as a lot of fun to write.

Enjoy!

--

Tie-ranny

Sanji x reader

The first tie was a joke. You swore it was a joke.

It was a silk monstrosity in the shape of a koi fish—glossy, orange, and just the slightest bit too anatomically accurate. You found it in a tiny market stall on an island known for its quirky fashion, and you immediately thought of Sanji.

Because of course you did.

The man wore suits like second skin, cooked like a god, and smoked like a noir protagonist. He had style. He had grace. He needed a stupid tie shaped like a fish.

So, naturally, you bought it.

You approached him in the galley after dinner service, when most of the crew was lounging about the deck, nursing full stomachs and half-lidded eyes. Sanji was wiping down the counters, still wearing his signature black shirt and that sleek, boring tie.

Time to change that.

“Sanji,” you chirped, hands behind your back. “I got you something.”

He glanced up, smiling instantly. “For me? Mon amour, you shouldn’t have.”

You snorted. “Trust me, I probably shouldn’t have. But here.”

You revealed the tie like it was a weapon. The way his smile twitched said he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t.

He took it gently, inspecting the silky koi fish with a kind of cautious reverence. “...It’s a tie,” he said, after a beat.

“Not just a tie. A statement.”

Sanji paused, then let out a light chuckle. “It’s definitely saying something.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “You hate it.”

“I love it,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “No one’s ever given me a tie before. I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

You blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Of course.” He smiled at you—warm, charming, and with just a hint of terror behind the eyes. “Merci, my dear.”

You were kind of joking. But now you were also kind of obsessed.

The next morning, Sanji wore the tie.

He actually wore it.

Full suit. Polished shoes. Orange koi fish flopping limply down his chest.

Zoro nearly fell overboard laughing. Usopp asked if it was cursed. Luffy tried to eat it. But Sanji—oh, bless his elegant little soul—kept his head high, his tie straight, and served breakfast with the air of a Michelin-star chef who had absolutely not lost a bet.

You were delighted.

He was doomed.

You gave him a second tie a week later.

This one was a standard black, but when pulled, it flipped up to reveal a tiny cartoon woman in a bikini winking suggestively. Sanji paled when he discovered this—after wearing it to serve tea to Robin and Nami.

He wore it for three days out of sheer politeness.

The third tie played “La Cucaracha” when touched. The fourth one glowed in the dark. The fifth? A neon green knitted monstrosity with googly eyes stitched on like some kind of haunted seaweed.

You were testing him now. You had to be.

And Sanji—poor, noble, increasingly sweaty Sanji—endured them all.

But something in his eye had started to twitch.

-

Sanji didn’t cry.

But he did sigh like a man who had seen war.

“This one sparkles,” he said faintly, holding up tie number six between two fingers like it might bite. “It’s—bedazzled.”

“Exactly,” you grinned. “It matches your sparkling personality, Sanji-kun~”

He blinked slowly. “I don’t sparkle.”

“You do in my heart.”

He paused. “...That’s very sweet,” he said, voice hollow. “Excuse me while I go make dinner and question everything I’ve ever known about fashion.”

The next time you docked on an island, you dragged Zoro along on your usual supply run. Not because you liked him (you didn’t—he was a menace), but because he owed you a favor and you wanted a pack mule.

You didn’t expect him to actually get into it.

“Oho,” Zoro said, plucking a tie from a dusty clearance bin like it was Excalibur. “This one’s got a cat riding a shark. That’s a power move.”

You gasped. “Oh my god. And look, this one’s got… is that a chili pepper? With sunglasses??”

“Hell yeah it is.”

Suddenly, you and Zoro were in the middle of the store, doubled over with laughter, holding up increasingly cursed neckwear like you were art collectors discovering lost masterpieces.

“What about this one?” Zoro asked, barely holding it together. “It’s a chicken. But with abs.”

“Sanji would hate that.”

“Then we’re buying it.”

It became a game. A secret mission. Operation: Drive Sanji Mad With Fashion.

The tie haul that day was devastating:

One with a holographic dancing skeleton.

One that said “HOT STUFF” in flaming Comic Sans.

One with googly eyes that rattled when he moved.

A skinny tie that looked like a strip of bacon.

You didn’t even try to hide your glee.

And the worst part? Sanji still wore them.

Maybe not with pride. Maybe not even with dignity. But with a kind of resigned, tragic elegance—as if he’d accepted this was his life now, a living shrine to the gods of bad taste.

“Y/N…” he said one afternoon, when you handed him a tie shaped like a squid.

“Uh-huh?”

He looked at you. You looked back, all innocence and sunshine.

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Sighed.

“…Merci,” he whispered, like it hurt.

Back on the Sunny, Zoro leaned on the railing, watching Sanji stir soup with his squid tie flapping obscenely against his chest.

“You think he’s gonna snap soon?” Zoro asked, sipping his drink.

You leaned beside him, smug. “I’m giving him three more ties. Maybe two if I find the one with the whoopee cushion.”

Zoro grinned. “Let me know when you go shopping again.”

The alliance had been forged. The chaos was escalating.

And Sanji?

Well, he was hanging on by a thread.

A very ugly thread.

--

The final tie was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. Which is exactly why you bought it.

It was fuzzy. It was fluorescent. It had two giant googly eyes, a felt tongue that dangled like an accusation, and a built-in squeaker that wheezed every time it moved.

Zoro saw it first.

He stared at it for a long moment, then simply muttered, “Oh, he’s gonna die.”

You nodded solemnly. “Or finally confess his sins.”

You presented it to Sanji after dinner, the rest of the crew scattered and full and blissfully unaware of the oncoming storm. You held the box like it was a precious heirloom.

“Sanji,” you beamed. “From me to you.”

He froze. You saw his soul briefly leave his body before he schooled his face into that familiar, worn-out smile.

“For me?” he said, voice soft like a dying man’s last words.

You nodded with dangerous excitement. “It squeaks.”

There was a long silence as he lifted the lid. His face didn’t change. Not at first. But you saw the exact moment his spirit cracked.

His eye twitched. His cigarette drooped. And then—very gently—he closed the lid.

“Y/N,” he said.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You froze. “Wait, what?”

“I love you,” he repeated, fast now, like he was running downhill with no brakes. “I love your smile and your laugh and the way you talk to my soup like it’s alive. I love your voice in the morning and how you hum when you’re bored and yes, even how you and the mosshead formed some unholy alliance to torture me with these godforsaken ties.”

You were completely stunned.

Sanji took a breath. “But if you give me one more tie that squeaks, glows, sings, or looks like it crawled out of a clown’s nightmare—I will burst into flames. And not in the charming, smoldering way. In the literal spontaneous combustion way.”

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Then blinked. “...So you’re saying you do like them?”

Sanji stared at you.

You grinned. “You do!”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Mon Dieu, please spare me.”

But you stepped closer and leaned in, voice soft now. “You could’ve told me from the start, you know.”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You’ve worn a tie that said ‘Grill Me Daddy.’ I think we're past shame.”

That got a reluctant laugh from him.

You reached into your bag and pulled out one last item—not a tie this time, but a sleek, dark blue one with a subtle embroidered pattern. Tasteful. Elegant. Something that actually matched his wardrobe.

He blinked. “Wait… this one’s not hideous.”

You shrugged. “Well, I did get you like eleven gag ties already. Thought you earned one nice one.”

Sanji looked at you like you’d just handed him the moon. “...Thank you,” he said quietly.

You smiled. “You’re welcome, Mr. Grill Me Daddy.”

He groaned again—but this time, when he tugged you in for a hug, he didn’t let go.

1 like = 1 prayer for chopper's mental health

ASL’s hear me out cake

oh my goddd I just read the Monster trio & pregnant reader fic and i loved it.

Could you write about them as baby dads?

🫵 Made Him a Dad

after the pregnancy and labor let's see they’re doing as newly dads?

a/n: tried to not be repetitive but it was hard lmao

also a special thanks and credits to @katsukis-foxie6 for giving me some ideas, espcially for sanji's ❤︎❤︎❤︎

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji

words count: around 0.9k - 1.3k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

The Straw Hat crew was anchored at a small island, taking a rare break after a long stretch of adventures. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the ship as you cradled your baby girl, Dawn, in your arms. She was only a few months old, but her presence already seemed to brighten every corner of the Thousand Sunny. Her tiny hands wrapped around your finger, and the sound of her soft giggles filled the air.

Luffy, his usual exuberance toned down just a bit, sat across from you, his eyes locked on Dawn with a mixture of pride and awe.

“She’s so cute, y/n,” Luffy said with his signature grin, his voice filled with warmth “Look at her! She’s already so strong! I bet she’s gonna be a great pirate!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at Luffy’s enthusiasm “She’s barely even walking yet, Luffy. Maybe let’s wait a few years before we start recruiting her into the crew.”

Luffy’s face lit up “Oh, at her age I already wanted to be the king of pirates!" He turns to look at you and your serious face kinda scares him "...Y-yeah, we should let her grow a little first! But she’s gonna be the best, I just know it! I’ll teach her everything I know!”

Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from the shore, and you looked up to see none other than your grandfather-in-law, Garp, strolling toward the ship with a big grin plastered on his face.

“Oi, Luffy!” Garp shouted, his signature Marine coat fluttering behind him “I heard you had a kid! About time you stopped being such a carefree idiot and started taking responsibility!”

Luffy jumped to his feet immediately, his eyes widening with excitement “Grandpa! You’re here!” He grabbed Dawn from your arms before you could even protest, holding her in front of Garp with the same proud grin he always wore “Look! This is my daughter!”

You stood up and approached them with a smile, watching Garp’s reaction carefully. Garp stared down at the tiny bundle in Luffy’s arms, his usual gruff expression softening as he regarded her.

“She’s tiny,” Garp muttered, squinting at Dawn, but his voice held a strange tenderness “I didn’t think Luffy could make something this cute.”

Luffy puffed out his chest with pride “She’s gonna grow strong, just like me! And she’s gonna be a great pirate!”

Garp grunted, crossing his arms “A pirate, huh? You’ve got a long way to go if you’re gonna make her one of your little nakama, brat.”

Luffy beamed, clearly not bothered by the teasing “I’ll make sure she’s ready! Right, Dawn?” He shook her gently, making silly noises that caused her to giggle. Dawn’s tiny fingers grasped at Luffy’s hand, and it seemed like the whole world stopped for a second.

Garp let out a low chuckle, his usual gruff demeanor melting a bit as he saw the deep love in Luffy’s eyes “Well, kid, looks like you’re serious about being a dad. I can’t believe it, but I guess you’ve really grown up. She’s got your stupid grin, that’s for sure.”

Luffy looked over at you with wide eyes, his face flushed with excitement “Grandpa likes her! He said she looks like me!”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for both your husband and daughter “She has your smile, alright” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Dawn’s face.

Luffy beamed, clearly feeling validated by Garp’s approval “I’m gonna teach her all kinds of stuff! How to eat a ton, how to never give up on your dreams, and how to make sure the meat’s always cooked perfectly! She’s gonna be awesome!”

Garp raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a smirk “Well, she’s not gonna be a pirate, that’s for sure.”

Luffy blinked in confusion “Huh? What do you mean? She’s gonna be the greatest pirate ever!”

Garp crossed his arms, grinning mischievously “No way. I’ve seen what happens when you let brats like you run wild. She’s gonna be a Marine, just like her old grandpa.”

Luffy’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief “What?! No way! She’s gonna be a pirate! You can’t stop that!”

Garp laughed, thoroughly amused by Luffy’s reaction “Oh, I can see it now: ‘Little Dawn, future Marine Admiral!’ No pirates for her! She’ll be the one taking you down one day.”

Luffy’s face scrunched up in determination “No! You’ll see! She’ll be a pirate! And she’s gonna be the best one there is!”

You chuckled softly at their bickering, watching as Garp playfully ruffled Luffy’s hair and then glanced down at Dawn.

“She’s got a strong spirit, though,” Garp admitted with a sigh, softening just a little “I can tell she’ll be a handful, just like her old man. But I’ll make sure she knows the proper way to punch things if she ever tries to follow in your footsteps.”

Luffy grinned, not giving up on his dream “I’ll make sure she’s ready to punch things too—pirate things!”

Garp snorted and let out a deep laugh “Well, kid, you’ve got a good one here. Just don’t be surprised when she ends up in a Marine uniform one day.”

Luffy huffed but looked down at Dawn lovingly “We’ll see about that.”

As the sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, you felt the promise of a new journey unfolding, one with your family at the heart of it all. With Luffy by your side and Garp giving his usual advice, there was no doubt that little Dawn would grow up surrounded by love, adventure, and laughter, her own future as bright as the sun setting before you.

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

Your daughter, barely a few months old, has her tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger, her grip firm, almost unrelenting. Zoro raises an eyebrow as he tries to gently pull away, but she refuses to let go, her tiny face scrunching up in determination.

“Damn,” he mutters, glancing at you as you sit beside him, amused “She’s strong.”

You laugh softly, leaning against his arm “Like her dad.”

Zoro doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches your daughter with an unreadable expression, his free hand absentmindedly running over her soft, wispy hair. The moment lingers, quiet, thoughtful, before he finally speaks again.

“No,” he says, voice low “Like her mom.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. When you look up at him, you see the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers twitch slightly against your daughter’s back. He’s thinking about something serious. Something deep.

Zoro’s gaze flickers to you, intense in that way only he can be “That day…” He exhales sharply through his nose. “And not just that day. The whole damn time. Pregnancy, labor... all of it. I thought I knew what strength was, but I didn’t. Not really.”

Your chest tightens. Zoro isn’t one to put things into words often, but when he does, he means every syllable.

“I couldn’t do anything at all,” he admits, still staring at your daughter’s tiny hand around his finger “I just had to sit there and watch while you went through all of it. No fight I’ve ever been in, no injury I’ve ever had... it’s nothing compared to that.” He finally looks back at you, eyes dark with something raw “You’re stronger than me, y/n, believe me.”

You feel your breath catch.

It’s not just the words, it’s also the way he says them, with complete sincerity. Zoro, who has trained his entire life to be the strongest swordsman, means it. He believes it.

You squeeze his arm gently, your voice soft “Zoro…”

He huffs, shaking his head as if the thought still overwhelms him. Then, his expression softens just a little as he looks down at your daughter again. She’s still gripping his finger tightly, completely oblivious to the weight of the moment.

Zoro smirks faintly “She’s lucky to have you as her mom” he mutters.

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest “She’s lucky to have you as her dad.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but you catch the way his grip on your daughter shifts slightly, gentler, but still firm. Protective. Always.

She might have his strength, but Zoro knows exactly where it comes from.

And he’ll never forget it.

Zoro started to be protective towards her since you first announced your pregnancy.

He’s that type of super stressed dads who keeps running around following every single thing she does so that he can catch her if needed. All this with always a big blush on his face.

But it’s not that bad that he controls her bec, in fact, right now, your one-year-old daughter is standing in the middle of the deck, holding onto Luffy’s index fingers as he swings her back and forth like a human jump rope. Every time he lifts her up, she squeals in delight, kicking her little legs mid-air before landing on the deck.

“Again! Again!” she demands, her tiny fists gripping Luffy’s fingers with ridiculous strength.

Zoro, standing nearby with his arms crossed, scowls “Oi. Don’t drop her.”

Luffy grins, stretching his lips wide “Don’t worry! I won’t!”

You, sitting on a crate just a few feet away, shake your head with a sigh “She’s fine, Zoro. Look at her, she’s having fun.”

Zoro doesn’t budge, arms still crossed “She’s one wrong step away from flying into the ocean.”

Luffy gasps, looking at Kazuki with sparkling eyes “You wanna fly?!”

“Luffy, NO.” you and Zoro shout at the same time.

Kazuki claps her hands “Fly!”

“NO,” Zoro repeats firmly, glaring at Luffy “You are not throwing my kid.”

Luffy pouts “But she’s got a strong grip! She wouldn’t even let go—”

“Luffy,” you say, rubbing your temples “let’s not test her durability today, please.”

Luffy sighs dramatically but doesn’t argue. Instead, he lifts Kazuki up and plops her on his shoulders, holding onto her tiny hands so she doesn’t wobble off.

Zoro mutters under his breath but doesn’t stop it. At least Luffy’s holding onto her.

Sanji chooses this moment to stroll onto the deck, cigarette between his lips but dropping it as he walks towards Kazuki “There’s my little princess,” he coos, hands in his pockets “You hungry, sweetheart?”

Kazuki, who has long since associated Sanji with food, beams “Yummy?”

Sanji grins “The yummiest. I made you something special.”

Zoro immediately frowns “What did you make her?”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Relax, moss-head. Just some soft fruit and rice balls.”

Zoro doesn’t move “You sure there’s nothing weird in it?”

Sanji bristles, instantly getting in his face “Weird? She’s a baby, you muscle-brained swordsman! What the hell do you think I’d put in her food?”

You sigh, standing up to intervene before they actually start fighting “Okay, okay, both of you calm down. Sanji, thanks for making her food. Zoro, you really do look stressed, why don’t you go take a nap? I’ll stay with her.”

“I’m good, I’ll go later… don’t worry” he says softly but still watches like a hawk as Sanji hands Kazuki a tiny rice ball. She immediately grabs it with both hands and shoves it into her mouth, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk.

“Good?” Sanji asks, kneeling to her level.

Kazuki chews, sways on her little feet, then beams “Good!”

You smile and ruffle her hair “Say ‘thank you,’ Kazu.”

Kazuki tilts her head, then garbles around the mouthful of rice “Fanku.”

Sanji clutches his chest like he’s been shot “Ohh, my sweet little angel, you’re so polite—”

Zoro scoffs “Don’t act like you raised her.”

Kazuki points a chubby little finger at Zoro and proudly declares “Dada’s idiot.”

Silence.

Then the crew loses it.

Luffy collapses onto the floor, clutching his stomach. Nami has to lean against a barrel, wiping tears from her eyes. Sanji turns away, shoulders shaking with laughter. Even Robin chuckles from where she’s reading in her chair.

Zoro stares at Kazuki, completely betrayed.

You, barely containing your laughter, kneel beside her “Sweetheart, don’t call your daddy an idiot.”

Kazuki tilts her head, as if deep in thought. Then, just as serious, she looks back at Zoro and says—

“Dada’s big idiot.”

Zoro groans so loud it nearly rattles the ship.

Luffy wheezes. Nami nearly falls over. Usopp actually falls over.

You bite your lip, but it’s no use, you’re laughing too.

Zoro glares at all of you “I blame all of you for this... y/n, stop it”

Kazuki, sensing she’s won, lifts her arms up to Zoro. He sighs, scooping her up, resting her against his chest. She immediately nuzzles into his shoulder, letting out a happy little hum.

“Dada” she murmurs.

Zoro exhales, the corner of his lips twitching despite himself. He presses a kiss to her hair, murmuring, “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I like you, brat.”

You step closer, resting a hand on his arm “You love her” you tease.

Zoro scoffs “Obviously… unlike you, she doesn’t know what she’s saying”

You go and leave a quick peck on his lips “You’re my lovely big big idiot”.

He blushes like crazy.

Kazuki looks up, sleepy “Dada?”

“Hm?”

She grins “Dada’s big big idiot.”

The crew howls with laughter.

Zoro sighs so deeply, but even as the teasing continues, he holds Kazuki a little closer.

She’s happy, safe, and in his arms. That’s all that matters.

That afternoon, you find them sleeping adorably together, in the same napping position. Smiling, you take a blanket and gently cover them both. Zoro stirs awake, thinking the baby has moved, something that makes you smile even more, knowing how hard it usually is to wake him. When he sees it’s you, he reaches for your hand and quietly invites you to join them, pulling you in for a cuddle.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji is soft with her.

Softer than you ever thought possible.

You watch from the doorway as he sits on the edge of your shared bed, cradling your daughter so delicately, like she’s made of glass. His thumb gently strokes over her tiny fingers, his breath slow, steady, controlled. But his eyes hold something else.

Something hesitant.

Something uncertain.

Your heart tightens.

“She’s sleeping,” you whisper, stepping closer “You don’t have to be so tense.”

Sanji barely glances up “I know.”

But he doesn’t relax. Not even a little.

Instead, he just keeps staring at her, as if waiting for something. As if at any moment, she’ll change into something unfamiliar, something he won’t know how to handle.

You sit beside him, curling close, resting your head against his shoulder. One arm wraps around his waist, the other reaching out to trace the soft fabric of the onesie your daughter is bundled in. She shifts slightly, making a tiny sound, and Sanji freezes.

You feel the sharp inhale he takes. The way his fingers twitch, just barely, as if bracing himself.

And suddenly, you understand.

“Sanji.” You keep your voice gentle “What’s wrong?”

He exhales slowly through his nose “Nothing.”

You don’t let that slide. Not with him. Not when he’s never been able to lie to you.

You shift, pulling back just enough to see his face “You’re scared.”

His jaw tenses, his grip on your daughter tightening the smallest bit “Of course I am,” he murmurs “I’ve never done this before.”

You shake your head “No, I know it's not just that.”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. You can see it all over him, the weight of his past, the fears he won’t say out loud.

So you say them for him... “You’re scared of being like him.”

Sanji flinches.

It’s barely noticeable. A fraction of movement, a flicker in his expression. But you know him too well.

“I’m not,” he starts, but his voice falters “I mean—I would never—”

“I know,” you cut in softly “And she’ll know too.”

His breath shudders “But what if—”

“She won’t be like them, Sanji.” You rest your hand over his, where he’s still holding her so, so carefully “And even if she was, she’d still be ours.”

Sanji swallows hard “I don’t want her to be cold,” he whispers “I don’t want her to feel like she has to earn love. I don’t want her to think—” He stops, jaw clenching “Like I did.”

Your chest tightens.

You knew. Of course you knew. You knew how deep his scars ran, how much he still carried, no matter how much love he poured into everyone else.

You squeeze his hand “She won’t.”

Sanji shakes his head “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” you insist, voice steady “Because you are her father.”

That makes him pause.

“She’s going to grow up knowing love, Sanji. Because you give it so easily, so naturally. Because you would rather die than see her cry. Because when she wakes up at night, you hold her before I can even sit up. Because you—” Your voice wavers, but you press on “Because you are already the best father she could ever have.”

Sanji exhales, shaky, uneven. His grip on your daughter loosens just slightly, his thumb resuming its soft strokes against her tiny hand.

“She’s so small” he murmurs, almost to himself.

You smile, leaning into him again “Yeah. But she’s yours.”

That does something to him.

You feel the tension in his body shift, melting just a little. He looks down at your daughter again, something lighter in his expression now. Something less like fear and more like wonder.

“She’s beautiful” he breathes.

You kiss his shoulder “Like her dad.”

Sanji huffs, but you can hear the warmth creeping into his voice “I hope not. She deserves better than a troublesome cook.”

You nudge him playfully “She has a father who will love her unconditionally.”

Sanji doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, he shifts, adjusting his hold on her, drawing her closer. And when he finally speaks, it’s barely above a whisper, so quiet you almost miss it.

“Yeah, she has that.”

Your throat tightens.

You don’t say anything, just slide your arms around him, tucking yourself against his side, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

Sanji rests his chin lightly atop your head. He’s quiet for a moment, but you can feel the way his heartbeat slows, steadying.

Then, just as softly, almost like an afterthought, he murmurs, “I was easy to love. My father was just really bad.”

Your breath catches.

It’s not something he’s ever said before, not so plainly, not so simply.

But now, with his daughter sleeping in his arms, with you curled up beside him, with love so clear and so real around him, he finally believes it.

The fears won’t vanish overnight. The scars won’t disappear. But right here, right now, in the quiet of your room, with your daughter safe in his arms Sanji finally lets himself believe it.

He is more than enough.

And he always will be.

The next morning you wake up to chaos.

“Oi, oi, oi, CAREFUL!” Sanji nearly vaults over the table as Luffy lifts the baby girl high into the air, laughing as she squeals in delight “Luffy, she’s not a sack of flour, PUT HER DOWN!”

“She likes it, though!” Luffy beams, spinning in a circle with her in his arms “Right, mini-cook?”

His daughter giggling is the only reason Sanji doesn’t immediately drop-kick his captain into the next century. Instead, he clenches his fists and growls, “If you drop her, Luffy, so help me—”

“Oh, come on, love-cook,” Zoro snickers, leaning back against the railing “You’re acting like she’s made of glass.”

Sanji whirls around to glare at him “You grip your sword too tight, you sit too close, you BREATHE wrong, and I swear—”

“Oh no,” Nami sighs, crossing her arms with a smirk “We’ve lost him.”

Usopp nods dramatically “RIP Sanji. He used to be cool.”

Franky wipes an imaginary tear “Another victim of dad syndrome.”

Sanji ignores them, practically vibrating with anxiety as Luffy tosses the baby just slightly in the air before catching her again.

“LUFFY, I SWEAR TO ALL THE—”

You snort. Loudly.

And just like that, Sanji freezes.

His brain short-circuits because—oh.

You’re laughing.

Not a little chuckle, not a polite giggle. Full-on, tears-in-your-eyes laughter.

Sanji forgets about murdering Luffy, forgets about all the dumbasses around him, because you’re happy.

His shoulders drop. His fists loosen.

Then, as if sensing his shift, his daughter suddenly reaches her arms out for him.

Sanji immediately swoops in, taking her from Luffy and holding her close to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead “That’s enough flying for today, sweetheart.”

Nami smirks “Aww, the overprotective dad act is over already?”

Sanji barely reacts. Instead, he turns to you, watching the way you’re still wiping laughter from your eyes, and—

God.

If this is what family feels like, if this is what love feels like, then he never, ever wants anything else in the whole world.

Day 1: fat lil baby

good afternoon gay people have low quality fnc for today..