badhead
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Summary
“I’m sorry.” Her brow furrowed in confusion as he continued, “I’m in love with someone else.”
After over twenty years of waiting, Hiyori has finally met her soulmate. There’s just one small problem.
Series
- Part 1 of Fate’s Requiem
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,595
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 3
- Comments:
- 67
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- 3,755
- Bookmarks:
- 499
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Bookmarked by badhead
30 Apr 2026
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Summary
“Luffy? What’s the matter?”
“We’re gonna’ have a wedding,” he says incomprehensibly. Which—no. Absolutely not. Haven’t they had enough of weddings, lately? Nami's certainly had enough for a lifetime, thanks.
“What are you talking about? What wedding?” she demands as coherently as she can while running on only two-and-a-half hours of sleep.
“Mine and Sanji’s,” Luffy declares.
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Thanks to his wife and son, Mihawk speaks and thinks in North Blue. A language too cold for him to tell them how much he loves them. He shows them through his actions instead.
Basically Mihawk found Sora and Sanji, saved their lives, and became so whipped he would do anything for them. And does. Routinely. Work is complete, will update every Wednesday and Saturday!
Series
- Part 1 of Sanji's Absurd Parenting Situations
- Part 1 of Northern Language
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It's not that Sanji's having bad sex! And it's not that his various partners are selfish! It's just that people with vaginas can't orgasm. Everyone knows that.
Why is Zoro looking at him like that.
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Summary
The very first time Sanji gets well and truly drunk while travelling with the crew is years into their journey, and somehow, it's Zoro's job to herd him home. He might be in love, and he also might have to kill him. And then feed him and rub his back.
...
Sanji stared at him for a second, recalibrating. He moved further away, staggering with his typical serious look. Squaring up.
Before Zoro could realize what was happening, the cook turned on a dime, and started tearing ass away from him in a dead sprint, still dangerously tilted to one side and threatening to plow face-first into the sand again.
"Why?!" he demanded of the empty-ass air where the cook had been, taking off after him with a curse.