#all of them yasopp

[kacievvbbbb]

Mihawk and the Red Haired Pirates

-Look I don't know what to tell you, Mihawk's epithet is literally Hawkeyes meaning he is world-renowned for his eyesight meaning that he'd probably make a good sharpshooter. And maybe Yasopp decides to test this theory with a little friendly competition. And after giving Mihawk a quick intro into how guns work, maybe Yasopp had to pull out every trick there is in the book to narrowly avoid losing to said Hawkeyes, who as it turns out is indeed very good at hitting targets and who had literally just learned how to cock a gun not even 30 minutes ago. But who's to say what actually happened, the day of November 25th at 2:35pm? Certainly not Yasopp, the record clearly shows he is undefeated.

-Once a year Ben and Mihawk go on a little trip just the two of them. They act like it's just so they can shit-talk Shanks but actually, they just go fishing somewhere in the middle of the ocean and drink horribly overpriced and fancy alcohol. Look Benn loves his crew, and would die for them but also if he doesn't get at least a week to himself once every year he'd kill them all himself. He deserves nice things and a little peace and fucking quiet and not being constantly inundated with the whims of a man child and Mihawk's the closest he's ever gonna get to a friend with taste, and he travels alone with a bunch of fancy wine. Sue the man. Mihawk who would rather nap is fine to let someone else sail his overgrown raft against the annoyingly ever-changing grandline for a week or two.

-Wouldn't it be cute if Mihawk learned a lot of his fancier cooking techniques from Roux? Like he knew how to cook to survive but watching Roux is how he learned to like properly dice vegetables and that eating fish prepared the same way three times a day is not infact a life he would like to lead. This was of course less cute to Lucky Roux who in the beginning had no clue what was happening and only felt the weight of Mihawk's otherworldly stare on the back of his neck as he handled knives. (he defiantly for at least a little bit, thought Mihawk had a knife fetish. which, he's not entirely wrong)

-To Building Snake (who I just learned is the RHP's navigator) Mihawk might as well be a modern-day miracle. In his eyes, Mihawk's sailing is proof that god exists, because only divine intervention can explain how this man ever gets anywhere never mind on time or early even. Building Snake is pretty sure he owns neither a map nor a log pose and he has never actually seen the sails of Mihawk's pretend ship unfurled or in use. Actually, he has never seen Mihawk do anything but sit menacingly on the throne in the middle of the boat, which why? If you think about it for even a second longer that 2 minutes how Mihawk "sails" anywhere breaks every law of physics and somehow even the concept of geography. Building Snake would like to dissect him and study him under a microscope but knows the boss would disapprove.

[beanghostprincess]

Usopp !! How come Oda lets you have so many role models and parental figures !!!

[aimbutmiss]

I know in my heart Usopp got his storytelling skills from Banchina! She always told him the liveliest, most entertaining stories of far-off lands full of adventures and amazing people and plants and animals. Stories about Yasopp and what a great pirate he was, so that if when he came back Usopp wouldn't have any ill will towards him. Banchina listened so intently to all the tall tales Usopp told her and the best memories Usopp has of her was when they made up stories together.

Now every time Usopp brings one of his fantastical anecdotes to life, it's almost like Banchina's right there with him.

This hurts in the best way 😭😭 Usopp making his mom's spirit live on with his stories is a beautiful idea. But all I can think about is him reuniting with his dad and all Yasopp can see when he looks at his son is Banchina. His looks AND the way he acts is all his mother, which isn't surprising considering Yasopp wasn't there at all... Seeing Usopp again is just facing his failures head on and maybe that's just what he needs. To face his wrongdoings and mistakes instead of hiding from them.

[hauntingblue]

The combo of York and the seraphim is too cute... they are getting their asses handed to them by cutie pies

[crystalcatgamer]

BENN WITH HIS HEAD IN HIS HANDS TAKING ME OUT. LIMEJUICE AND HIS LONG ASS HAIR. YASSOP ON ALL FOURS ON THE GROUND. LUCKY LAMENTING AT THE SKY. SHANKS AND- Wait that's literally his only arm which makes him perfect for that goddamn pose I'M CRYING

Luffy... How could you... The Red-Hair Pirates were literally your very first fan club... You were their little guy and still are...

kids these days dont appreciate anything...

[dreamlandcreations]

OPLA men - I licked it so it's mine

Shanks / Mihawk / Zoro / Sanji x Reader

this is @justnerdystuffs' fault idea with a little twist here and there and it has been sitting in my drafts for ages 🫣

Warnings: implied mutual pining, idiots (all of them), fluff, kissing, implied relationship afterwards and other stuff , height difference, not proofread (I just wanted to finish something finally 😭🤧)

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It's been weeks since you have had a decent meal.

After such a long time, you finally landed on an island with a nice-looking bar where the rest of the crew could celebrate whatever excuse they could come up with for drinking and partying. You couldn't care less at the moment.

You had half the menu ordered, knowing full well some of the guys would join in on the feast whether you invited them or not. And that was fine, really, until they tried to take a bite of your steak. Roux was indeed lucky not to lose a hand.

However, your dearest captain had no such self-preservation instincts. You were on very good terms with the man, Shanks was easy to get along with, but he could be such a child sometimes.

He was sitting right next to you and he moved in the moment you turned your head in the other direction to look at some stunt Yasopp was trying to pull. You turned back just in time at the sound of the fork being stabbed into meat.

You moved fast, but not fast enough. The red-haired manchild took the last piece of your steak and quickly licked it from bottom to top, grinning at you with sauce staining his cheek right from under his scars all the way to his chin.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I licked it so it's mine."

From the other side of the table Ben was watching the scene in morbid fascination, ready to save his captain from certain death once again and he didn't like the sinister grin slowly pulling at your lips.

"Hmm," you leaned closer as Shanks put down the food on his plate, reaching for a napkin to wipe his face before you grabbed his hand, yanked him closer, gripping his chin in your other hand, you slowly licked the sauce off the side of his face before you pulled away and smirked at him as you claimed, "I guess that means you are mine now."

The room turned silent, all eyes on you two, as Shanks regarded you with a strange expression, and Ben stood still right where he jumped up when you launched for the captain, while you just stared at the man before you with slowly widening eyes as you just realised what you have done.

Before you could pull further away, Shanks quickly lifted you from your chair, making it tumble back as he pulled you into his lap with his smile quickly returning but with a new warmth to it, and you already knew you were in trouble before you heard what he had to say.

"Yours, huh?" he asked, cupping your cheek gently as he leaned in impossibly close, playfully nudging your nose with his and whispered, "I think I like the sound of that."

Steak forgotten, the crew's cheering ignored, you kissed the grinning idiot and you could't help but smile into the kiss too.

Ben in the background collapsed back into his chair, grabbed a large bottle of rum, and took a big gulp, already dreading what these two will put him through together.

You didn't know how Shanks convinced the swordsman to stay for the celebration but you were having fun watching your captain get on his nerves and when you saw the opportunity to join in that fun, you just had to do it.

There was no shortage of alcohol but Dracule Mihawk has a certain taste and you knew he would go for the good stuff, so you acted as soon as he got up from his seat from next to Shanks.

You took your time to pour out the remaining wine from the last, almost empty bottle and waited until the warlord got close enough that you could tease him without too many witnesses.

He towered over you somewhat menacingly, slightly raising his eyebrows expectantly as his gaze travelled down to the glass in your hand and back to your face in a meaningful motion. You were not intimidated in the slightest though.

On the contrary, you faked innocence as you mimicked his gesture before locking your gaze with his and letting your lips pull up into a little smirk then you lifted the glass and slowly dragged your tongue around the edge of it.

"I licked it so it's mine." you stated cheerfully and shrugged at his almost unperceivable widened eyes that betrayed his surprise or anger. Definitely disbelief, you decided.

Following a tense silence, a rare smile graced his lips, and you stopped breathing for a moment as he leaned in closer. 

"Is that right?" he murmured. His usually bored tone a mix between amusement, mocking and challenge.

Mihawk didn’t wait for your response but took a hold of your chin and smashed his lips against yours just as you gasped, and he took the opportunity to immediately deepen the kiss and lick into your mouth, letting you taste the wine he has been drinking throughout the night and you had no opportunity to sample because you dropped the glass as soon as his lips touched yours.

He didn't seem bothered by the pricey drink going to waste or you knocking down his hat as you desperately reached out and hang onto him by his nape while you tried to keep up with his maddening, passionate, slow, seductive kiss that made you feel like the room was spinning around you.

He pulled away just as abruptly as he started the kiss but he didn't let you go while he regarded you with a smug expression.

"I believe that makes you mine." When you failed to reply, he faked thinking about it for a second, then his smirk returned and he added, “Hmm. Perhaps I’ll have to be more thorough with my claiming.” before capturing your lips again and lifting you up into his arms to take you away somewhere private to make good on his promise.

Luffy claimed most of the food as you sat down, and he did it in the most disgusting but interesting way possible. He stretched his tongue out and licked over all the plates at his half of the table, grinning as he yelled excitedly, "I licked it! So it's mine!"

A moment of horror passed then everyone dug into (the safe part of) the feast. Everyone, except the green haired menace next to you.

Zoro collected both bottles of wine to himself opening them and storing them on his other side, even though he knew that was the only drink you'd find acceptable and it was pretty much all the same to him as long as it had alcohol in it.

He didn't react to you theatrically clearing your throat as you turned to him so you kicked his leg with a force that made him jump up a little.

He looked at you with surprise that quickly turned into annoyance then a wordless challenge. When the silent staredown didn't end with his win he sighed and reached for both bottles, and he extended one of them towards you but pulled back before you could grab it and went to lick over that bottle opening and then the other. Smiling at you in triumph as he said,

"Heard the captain. Rules are rules!"

Huffing at the audacity, you waited until he raised a bottle to his lips and hit the bottom, tipping it so he would spill the wine on himself.

He stood abruptly, making the chair almost fall over as you laughed.

The others' only reaction was a look in your way, they were used to your antics by now, they expected a fight as soon as you sat down beside the ex pirate hunter.

What no one, including you saw coming was your next move. Your eyes followed the droplets of wine dripping down Zoro's neck as he tried to dry his shirt with a napkin. It was all in vain, the fabric was soaked through.

You blinked a few times, trying to gather some sense into you, and obviously failing as you batted away his hands, produced a knife and slit his shirt open in a flash. Then, as you stood up you licked over his toned abdomen and chest, all the way up to his jaw before biting him teasingly there.

He blinked rapidly, taking in a staggering breath as he looked down at you, fixing his gaze on your now wine red lips. You licked them to savour the taste then you took the other bottle, sauntered over to the door and paused, looking back at Zoro with a challenging eyebrow raise before you left.

"Huh," was all he said before he followed you to your room.

You narrowed your eyes at Sanji, eyeing him with growing annoyance as he ate the rare bite-sized food that was gifted to you as the last creation of the chef who the cook obsessed over for the entire week. He moaned and swooned over the taste as you clenched your teeth together, trying to come up with an appropriate revenge.

Sanji looked at you with innocent eyes, smiling sweetly as he ased, "What?"

You looked down at the empty plate pointedly and then back at the thief just in time to see him shrug. "You know the rule, I licked it so it's mine."

Your body moved before you could think it through, grasping his chin with one hand, brushing away his hair from his face and grabbing him by the back of his head with your other hand as you quickly licked the side of his face and pushed him back a little as you stepped back. There, the gesture says.

Waiting for his disgusted reaction, you started to grin, satisfied with your little revenge for now, at least for a moment or so because he didn't react how you thought at all.

He seemed to be frozen in place except for his slowly widening eyes, then he gasped, giggled, and turned to you with a grin, exclaiming loudly that, "I'm yours now, no takebacks!"

You huffed at the ridiculous train of thought and turned to leave but he hugged you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, arms circling around your waist and you couldn't help but smile as you sighed dramatically but placed your hands on his, letting him pull you into an even tighter embrace that you would be trapped in for a while.

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[possiblyreallyme]

Once a Beckman girl, always a Beckman girl

warning: very spicey/smutty but no actual penetration, toys (vibrator), size kink if you squint, big dick benn canon.

hello! i got this idea from one of my favorite one piece writer on tumbler, @innerfare!! everyone, go check them out!! thank you so much!!

"Come on, honey. Don't you wanna come back to my cabin?" Shanks asked drunkenly through his hiccups and wolfish grin, staggering over the countertop to hold onto the wood and wink at you.

You'd giggle, but you shook your head, cleaning the counter when he knocked over a glass of alcohol with his one elbow.

"I'm sorry, sir," You told him with that sweet smile, though you didn't seem very sorry. "I already have plans with your first mate."

Shanks backed off immediately, nodding his head and walking away before you could ask why. Even in his drunken state, he knew it was a complete waste of time to try and woo one of Benn's girls.

Plus, his first mate wasn't one to sleep around, so Shanks knew better than to interfere when he needed a night to relax. He was drunk, not heartless.

"Tough luck," Lucky Roux murmured through his mouthful of meat when Shanks told the table of pirates about the barmaid, not even looking up to console his captain. "No one gets one of Benn's girls."

"Yeah, no shit," The captain murmured with a hiccup, before slouching against the table with a few more, spinning a bottle cap around like a pouty child.

"I just wish we knew what he does to get girls so crazy," Yasopp replied under his breath, though he didn't necessarily care to keep his voice low. Anyone who knew Benn knew he was a charmer, even if he didn't go around flirting as much as his captain.

If only they knew. If only they knew how their Benn could drag his fingers across a lady's skin and make her feel like she was a work of art. How as much as Shanks told him one-night stands and hookups shouldn't last more than 30 minutes, he just can't leave a girl like that.

Was he not supposed to stretch her with his fingers? How was she supposed to fit him if he didn't— while you're at it, doesn't it feel better when you let her ride your face until she's squealing and pulling at your hair? And it would weight much too heavy on his conscious if he left a woman alone in bed when she's tired and sore and in need of some love, when he could put his left-over energy to use and make her a nice meal, maybe give her a massage to ease the ache he caused.

Of course a man like him was so popular with the ladies. He was practically made for women, with how he could memorize your body like the back of his hand, as if he's known you his whole life, but he only just learned your damn name.

He'll coo in that deep voice of his, say things a pirate most certainly shouldn't be saying to someone he'll never see again, with that charming smile on his face and slowly rolling his hips into yours, thumbing at your clit until you've coated the sheets in as much cum as you could give him.

And yet, he's never come across as a player. He isn't a womanizer; he isn't someone like Shanks who can't be trusted to remember his partners names after a week. He's tough as nails and brutal, but to the women whose hearts still throb for the first mate, he was a sweetheart. The type to empathize and sooth when he's just a little too big to fit all the way in your cunt, wiping your tears with kisses and assure you that you've taken more than enough for him to enjoy, so don't feel guilty.

"Benn," You're whining that night, just after you close and the Red Force was snickering when Beckman puts his hand on the small of your back, dwarfing you so intensely you felt your face go hot. You should have fucking guessed that a man with hands bigger than your head had a cock to match.

"Shh, I know, sweetheart. Just relax," He soothed, large fingers parting your labia and pulling up the hood of your clit, circling the little nerve with an ease that made you wonder if he'd done this before with you.

You knew good and damn well you'd remember if a man like this had ever been with you before, but he hadn't even taken his eyes off your face and yet he found your clit almost faster than you could.

You couldn't focus on that though, already fighting off delirium you only thought a cock could bring you, taken by surprise how he could get you so dumb when all he had done was fuck you with that big black vibrator. He kept you sat upright on his desk by letting you lay your head on his shoulder, fluttering kisses against your jaw and rubbing your back when you clenched around the toy and whined for more, soothing you with his whispers like a father soothing his baby in the dead of night.

"Not yet, little one." It had been not yet all damn night, and you were ready for more. Eyes locked on the tent in his pants, large and clearly thick enough to stretch you to your limit, but you couldn't find it in you to care how much it would hurt. He cared though, and thank God for that. He couldn't live with himself if one of his sweethearts got hurt when it was his job to make sure they were well taken care of and happy, even though Shanks tried to explain to him that his job was simply to get off and go.

When he finally pulled the vibrator out and let you slump against hi desk, he kissed along the inside of your thighs and cleaned up the mess dripping to your knees, murmuring enough poetic praise to keep you high on orgasm for longer than your ego appreciated.

"Aw, baby doll," He chuckled faintly against your cunt, a smile stretching across his lips when you squirmed and whined when his stubble brushed along your sensitive thighs. "You still wanna take my cock, don't you?"

"Yes." Your mother would be ashamed at how fast you answered the pirate, who merely chuckled again and lifted you into his arms.

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 2

Note: I chose to do another five OP men for this one!! My brain won't shut off about these men being dads, I'm losing it omg. I hope these are good, I kind of struggled a little but just wrote whatever came to mind. Maybe I can do a part three at some point with more of them! I have a small idea for Mihawk and Franky, but that's it so far. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Sticking baby Ace for the image because I got nothing else lol.

Part One Here!

Kid is a boy dad, I’m sorry he just is. I can’t see him with a daughter really, unless she’s the youngest and was a surprise. But anyway! He’d have three boys that were all three years apart, and all are exactly like him. You really do love your sons and husband, but how you wish at least one of your boys was calm. The four of them are always roughhousing to the point you’ve had to set rules to keep from Kid accidentally hurting them, or your children from breaking things when he isn’t involved. When you have a set of twins a few years after your third son, another two boys, you’re done and just accepting your fate as a boy mom. You and Kid love all your boys though, neither of you would change anything, especially when your youngest ends up being a momma’s boy who’s finally calm and would rather spend his time with you than anyone else. Kid isn’t jealous, he swears.

~~

Usopp I can see with two girls! A few years between them, and they’re both the light of his life aside from you of course! Every story he tells them before bed makes them both so excited to grow up and become Pirates themselves, brave women of the sea! The oldest will want to help Usopp and Franky with inventions and fixing up the ship, while the youngest wants to be a sniper like her dad. You have no complaints about either one of those, more than grateful they both want to take after Usopp and following in his footsteps. Your girls absolutely love their dad, you get a little jealous sometimes, but getting to watch the three of them bond is your favorite thing in the world. It might make him a little emotional, especially after not having Yasopp around as he grew up.

~~

Shanks, I’m sure a lot are wondering about, would be such a great dad, we’ve seen him with Luffy and Uta, there’s no way he’d let down his biological kids imo. I see him with a son first, one with his hair that’s even more wild, and then twin girls! They’d all be about four years apart in age, but they’d run him ragged day in and day out. He'd teach your son how to wield a sword and help him develop his Haki, while your daughters will learn more hand to hand combat, though your youngest will join the sword lessons when she’s ready. When they’re little, he lets your girls put pins and braids in his hair, while telling all three of them stories about his time on the sea. The rest of the crew adores your children, Shanks knew they’d all be great uncles to your little ones.

~~

SHACHI WOULD SUCH A GOOD DAD OMG. You think I’m pushing Penguin propaganda, I’m here for Shachi now too. He’ll have two boys within two years of each other, yes the second is a surprise but so beyond welcomed, and then several years later a little girl that has all three of them wrapped around her finger! Your daughter would have his red hair, she’d just be the prettiest little thing, with chubby cheeks and her hair pulled back into two little ponytails. Your sons would have a mix between your hair and Shachi’s, both taking more after their dad in personality than anything. Of course, Shachi will teach all three of them to defend themselves, but especially your daughter since she’s the baby and he just wants her to be safe, even with her big brothers as her guardians.

~~

Rosinante, Corazon, however we wish to call him, he would be the best dad out of this group, I’m sure of it. Apart from taking in Law, he’d have two of his own children, a girl first and then a boy a couple years later. Law would act as a big brother to the two, it’d be the cutest thing ever. While your daughter would be outgoing and ready to take on the world, your son would much shier and would rather hide himself behind you or Corazon, normally his dad though. Corazon would NOT let Doflamingo around them; he’d probably keep the three of you a secret, maybe even his adoption of Law too, just to keep you all safe. He’s lost family before, he doesn’t want it to happen again, even if that means picking up and moving you all where his brother can’t find you. Apart from that, Corazon would make sure all of you had everything you needed, and your son would hold onto him through everything.  Your daughter would attach more to Law, but that’s perfectly fine, he’s accepted her as his new little sister and wants to protect her, he wants to protect your son too where he can. Your daughter would also want to keep her baby brother safe, not one of you would let a thing happen to a hair on his head. Corazon finally has a family again, a family of his own, he’s not letting anything happen to any of you anytime soon.

[crystalcatgamer]

KYAAAAAAA ART OF THE RED HAIR PIRATES IN THIS ECONOMY??? BEAUTIFUL.

Piece from Halloween last year!

[kacievvbbbb]

to complement this post

I think the red hair pirates would be obsessed with S-Hawk too! Especially the main group who've known Mihawk through his teenage marine hunting phase.

Benn would know they are walking on thin ice but look at him! He’s a little baby Mihawk! Look at his little uniform shirt tucked into his little shorts. Every angry and threatening expression s-hawk could make would mean nothing to a crew that has seen the real thing live and in color. It would just be adorable like look at his little frown! His glare! The threat of disembodiment in his eyes! Adorable

Mihawk is very uncomfortable with how much the red hair pirates fawn over and adore what is essentially a manufactured baby him. But yet also somehow touched? By it. He’ll kill everyone and then himself before he admits it tho

Yasopp, who actually did know a shorter 19 year old Mihawk, would ask him if he was that adorable but tiny (still can't comprehend that the seraphim are infact giant) as a child and if he had any pictures, and Mihawk almost takes his head.

[beanghostprincess]

Also what if when the Red Haired and Strawhat pirate crews finally meet. They meet in a populated area and celebrate meeting each other: Shanks and Luffy bond while Usopp and Yasopp are actually doing well together and bonding too. And Sanji (even tho being in a relationship) still fawns over the village girls every once in a while when he's there (not intensely but y'know). And Yasopp sees him and don't think anything of it until Usopp introduces him as his boyfriend. Which quickly pisses him off after seeing how he acts. Which results in Yasopp not liking him, bc well okay, makes sense, but then it leads to him saying he's not allowed to date his son as if he has any control over his life. Which leads to Yasopp and Sanji hating each other and arguing. But also Usopp hating both of them (Sanji for looking at other women still and Yasopp for dictating his life) and refusing to be around them for a while until Sanji and Yasopp realize they were jerks and apologize to him once he calms down.

This been on my head for a long while and I couldn't help but spill since you brought up Yasopp.

Let me kiss your brain. Please. Like. Come here right now and let me kiss your forehead. This is- This is so- Okay. I NEED A MOMENT. I need a moment. Let me breathe. Just a moment.

...

Okay, I'm done breathing. This is AMAZING. And now you have to deal with me talking about it!!!

I think Sanji and Yasopp would not get along because of what you just said. Sanji would still simp for girls everywhere (like, that's something that will never change. And it's not like he tries to sleep with them, he's loyal to Usopp. He's just very, uh, sexually attracted to them an insane amount. Usopp should have permission to bonk him with a hammer every time he does that tbh) and Yasopp would instantly think that he's not good for his son. Which is, you know, understandable, but who is he in Usopp's life to talk about his future? Or at least that's what Sanji would say, complaining about how he doesn't have any right to decide if he's good for his son, keeping in mind that he has never been around.

Yasopp left, but he still cares for his son and he wants to have a good relationship with him. Seeing Sanji like that makes him think about Shanks and Buggy's relationship and that's just not what he wants for Usopp (Shanks, baby, I love you but you're so not beating the cheater allegations). And Sanji... Sanji doesn't have a good relationship with father figures (obviously this is about Judge and not Zeff. Zeff, I love you) and men in general, so tbh I think he would already be a bit resentful towards Yasopp even before meeting him. He would try to hold back, of course, be friendly for Usopp's sake and all. But it doesn't work out.

I find this concept amazing because they care and love Usopp so much that they actually forget about what Usopp truly wants. Overprotective much?? I think they would end up bonding over that, too!!! Usopp would get angry at both of them first, though:

Usopp: What do you mean he's not good for me? You don't know him! Yasopp: But I'm sure he would love to know every girl around here, wouldn't he? If you know what I mean. He's going to end up breaking your heart, kiddo, I know people like him. For fuck's sake, Shanks is like him! Shanks: I'll have you know I am a very stable individual and your captain and a little bit of sexual freedom never hurt anyone! Yasopp: Tell that to your ex-boyfriend. Shanks: Ouch. Unnecessary. Usopp: You don't know him! And for starters, you don't even know me! He's wonderful and perfect for me and even if he weren't, you shouldn't have a say in my romantic life! If you wanted to act like a dad, you should've started years ago! Sanji: Thanks, mon trés- Usopp: And you. Don't you dare mon trésor me right now! My dad might not be allowed to say shit like this about you, but I am. I've gotten used to you flirting with every average-looking girl you see, but I'm sick and tired of you acting like a dog in heat with them. Especially when I'm around. It's- I thought I could just deal with it because I'm not a jealous person, but you need to get your shit together, Sanji. Both of you need to get your shit together. And if you excuse me, I'm going to have a drink with the others because I need a long, long break from you two. [...] Zoro: Now you've done it, curly. Told you you'd fuck this up someday. Sanji: I'm going to murder you. [...] Shanks: And you say I'm the bad father. Yasopp: You still are. Shanks: Maybe, good point there, but I'm not the only one. So that's a relief.

And then they would end up talking things out, of course, because Usopp is the most important person in their lives. I would like to see them bond over that, realizing that they both care about him a lot and that's why all of this happened. Sanji tells Yasopp that, even if he's pretty much obsessed with women, he would never be disloyal to Usopp. Usopp is the one for him. If he says he wants to get married to him one day, Yasopp is the only one who hears it. Sanji just needs to control his urges a lot, tbh. And Yasopp says that he knows he's not allowed to decide who his son should or shouldn't date, but he just wants to be a good father and enjoy the time they have together without some guy breaking Usopp's heart. He doesn't know how to be a dad, but he's willing to try for him.

So I think they end up getting along! Sanji cooks for both crews, of course, and Yasopp is delighted to taste his food. They spend the time laughing and talking about Usopp and Sanji won't stop explaining every adventure they've had together. Usopp, on the other hand, isn't as angry anymore (after talking to Nami about it) and watches from a distance how friendly they are now. This raises the question:

Usopp: God, are they going to be like that now? Nami: Is there an issue with that? Usopp: I don't know. Maybe? It's just weird. Robin: Maybe they start talking about all of your dirty secrets and embarrassing memories :) (<- Super friendly and not at all scary smile) Usopp: I want to die.

At some point, Sanji brings Usopp food and Yasopp comes along. They both apologize to him and, well, it's not as scary as Usopp thought. And they might be stupid and flawed, but they're still two of the people he loves the most.

Gonna have a whole breakdown over this now, thank you. I'm gonna think about this all day long. And tomorrow too. I'm sobbing. I have a lot of thoughts right now. Thinking about Sanji asking Yasopp for Usopp's hand because he's just classy like that and Yasopp accepting and Sanji like: "Okay, cool, because I was going to marry him anyway even if you said no. Glad I didn't have to kick your ass."

I'm gonna cherish this ask forever. Thank you. <3

[writingoddess1125]

How Strong the old men Genes are!

Funny little Headcanon for the Old Men!

Enjoy!

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Buggy

• Buggy has a curse of twins. No matter what if he gets a women pregnant It will result in him having twins.

• Due to the fact his first few sexual acquaintances were 'Paying Lovers' he does collect his kids and either has them apart of the crew or finds them a very nice homes if they aren't interested in being a Pirate.

• His kids do look like him but it's a healthy mix- His eyes and Hair Color seemingly to be his strongest genes since each of his kids has at least one of those unique characteristics.

• When he gets with his S/O who he also has twins with he is open about it.

• Has only gotten a few people pregnant but due to the twins curse- it's a lot of kids.

• Buggy much to everyone surprise is very good with kids. Especially babies.

• Maybe it plays on his power trip but having a little being that loves you unconditionally and needs you 24/7 plays well for him.

• Will buy nice clothes, dress them, feed them, play with them and even teach them everything he knows.

• His S/O is proud to see how good he is with kids. Proud of such a development. Will press him to collect/find the rest of his crotch goblins

• Gets a message from a old flame saying they no longer want their kids due to their line of work. How they are 4 and he needs to get them before they are in a orphanage.

• Hauls ass to go to Chi Chi Town to get his last batch of Twins before he got with his S/O

• "Let me guess- Twins right?" He said blandly to the madame of the brothel house, who nods in surprise. "Why yes- How did you know?-"

• "Lucky Guess. Now go get them" He says blandly as the Madame goes to the nursery area and retrieves the two twin toddlers, He doesn't even need to confirm as he sees the headful of blue hair.

• Takes them without a fuss and walks off to add to his growing collection of kids.

• Has a total of 12 Kids, all twins and he's done. No more for him-

Shanks

• Ah Poor Shanks- The Players Curse! Only Girls, He has just an ungodly amount of daughters.

• He doesn't even know we're they are till he walks through a village and sees a girl that looks a lot like him.

• All of them have red hair- No matter what. Curly, straight, Wavy but their hair is always red.

• "I'm your father! Goodness you look so lovely!" He gushes about each daughter and treats them individually. Spending as much time as he can with them and will buy them things they are interested in.

• Still prefers his single players life so doesn't settle with anyone. However running into old flames often means meeting new kids.

• Surprisingly remembers all his kids names, will write them letters constantly.

• Will he thrilled if any of them ate interested in pirating- his oldest of kids may already be working on another Pirates ship.

• Surprisingly large amount are actually Marines! So he gets special privileges of his daughters using their political power to not get him arrested-

• Introduces every daughter he has to the crew.

• The crew Secretly has a tally-board of how many kids Shanks has in the crews quarters

• "Hey Ben! How many does this new girl make?" Lucky Roux called out as he tossed the chalk to Yasopp

• "28nd girl-" Ben says calmly and smirks as Yasopp adds another Tally to the board.

• "28 Girls and 1 Boy. Good on you Luffy" The crew laughs at the stupidity of it all.

Mihawk

• Mihawk will never say it out loud but- He was a man-whore in his youth. A Massive Man-Whore.

• Knows he has a lot of bastard kids. But will at the moment only focus on the one he has with his S/O.

• When his permanent S/O finds out that Mihawk has a lot of illegitimate children they urge him to meet and even help his kids.

• At first he begrudgingly agreed- Only because his S/O asked him. Assuming he only had a good handful-

• He was wrong- So very very Wrong.

• It wasn't until he went out to collect them did he realize it was a good Idea what his S/O had suggested-

• Many of his children were in less then savorable situations. Some in orphanages, the streets picking through trash, even others working as servants or worse.

• What started as a scoffing agreement turned into the biggest rescue mission of his life.

• Once done he had the grand total of 87 Kids.

• His genes being incredibly strong since his kids all looked like him- to at least some degree.

• The main indicator was the yellow eyes- Damn near every child had his eyes. Some had his dark hair or his stoic features. But it was mainly his eyes-

• Is quiet around kids and even a bit awkward. Especially when they are in the adolescent age and talk far too much for his taste.

• By the end the castle back on his Island was actually at full occupancy. Every room filled and some of the smaller children even sharing rooms.

• He ended up hiring a full staff as well to help care for the children, especially any younger ones.

• Cost him a fortune- His wallet screaming at him buying more food, clothes, staffing, medical care and toys.

• S/O is happy since now the castle is so alive and filled with life. Makes them happy

• Mihawk laying in bed before he gets jumped on by kids. Scrambling awake as he sees 5 of his younger children laughing at seeing his startled face and runs off like little imps-

• Younger children haven't figured out to be afraid of him yet so they will run over him. He will be sitting there trying to read while a 3 year old uses him as a jungle gym.

•Secretly loves it-

• Loves having his home so warm and oddly realizes He may have been lonely before-

• "Mihawk I'm only counting 85 in bed-" His S/O calls out. Having a tradition of telling all the kids goodnight, He raises his brow at this as he sets down his wine glass and book of the evening.

[karinzany]

So I'm gonna jump in with my headcanon. It's very similar to this.

Shakky told Luffy that his grandpa used to "hunt her" 40 years ago. Which is 42 years ago from the present storyline. It was recently confirmed that Shakky is a former Empress of Amazon Lily. We also know that all women from Amazon Lily give birth to girls.

Well, Mihawk is 43 yo. So my HC is that Shakky gave birth to a boy, something unprecedented, and decided not to go back to her island, but to go to the Sabaody Archipelago to be able to raise her son. Mihawk shares some physical traits with Shakky, and seems to be a wine expert, which makes sense if he was raised at a bar.

Maybe the rivalry with Shanks started because of jealousy? Rayleigh, his dad, spent more time on the sea raising Shanks and Buggy than his own son, so when they finally met there were probably some grudges there. It would also make them kinda half-step-brothers(??), and now that Mihawk is Buggy's "subordinate", it would make their dynamic a lot funnier.

I think Hancock is Shakky's niece. My HC is that the former Empress who died of the love sickness was her sister and Hancock, Marigold and Sandersonia's mom. Because Shakky had been living in Sabaody for a few years, she didn't know her nieces had been enslaved. So when Gloriosa brought the girls to Sabaody Archipelago, of course she and Rayleigh did everything they could to help them. That's why Hancock seems so comfortable around Rayleigh. He's an exception among the other men, because he's her uncle and father figure.

Now about Mihawk and Hancock, I can also imagine then bickering. Mihawk goes to visit his parents, Hancock sees him and is immediately rude, and he's like "who's this sassy lost child?". Maybe he could have helped the girls train their haki, idk. Hancock kinda respects him, or at least tolerates him. A beloathed cousin. It would be funny if in the Shichibukai meetings they actually teamed up and sat next to each other to gossip about the other warlords, because they know they are the baddest bitches there.

PS.: I've checked and Mihawk's blood type is S, Shakky's is X, and Rayleigh's is XF. In real world terms, S is type O, X is type A, F is type B, and XF is type AB. So technically Mihawk can't be Rayleigh's biological kid. I mean, he could be Shakky's kid from another guy, and the headcanon works perfectly fine. They are not married and seem to have a pretty open relationship.

I’ve been seeing a lot of theories on both Hancock and Mihawk being the biological kids of Rayleigh and Shakky and I want to subscribe to both of those at once because you know those two would be the bitchiest siblings. Absolutely insufferable to be around as all they do is make snide comments about each other’s styles and how they’re clearly the more successful child.

[thebunnednun]

If you really love me, let me go PI

Parings: Red Haired Shanks x Vice Admiral! Reader

Prompt:

Hey Mami! Soo I've been thinking about our beloved Shanks x Vice admiral!Reader. Cuz why not? He's so carefree, so it would be nice to see him with someone who is the opposite of him.

Warning: Angst.

For, @orange-milky who gave me the prompt for this story. Always making me flustered with their nicknames for me.

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~~

You were peacefully sleeping, the kind of deep, dreamless sleep that came after an exhausting day of paperwork and drills. The cool breeze from the open window gently rustled the curtains, and all was silent in your little abode atop the plateau that overlooked the town.

Everything was still, quiet—until a sudden, sharp crash from downstairs jolted you awake.

Your eyes snapped open, heart still calm and steady despite the noise. You groaned softly, already reaching for the duel pistols you kept under your pillow, a natural reaction born from years of training as a Vice Admiral in the Navy. The best-case scenario flashed in your mind: Luffy and his friends, showing up unannounced again for some reckless, impromptu visit.

You wouldn’t put it past the kid, not after the last time they used your backyard as a training ground for their latest techniques.

But you weren’t one to take chances. Slipping out of bed as quietly as possible, you padded across the room in your fuzzy bunny slippers, your anchor-shaped earrings gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

A quick glance in the mirror showed your reflection: hair in rollers, a green mud mask you’d forgotten to wash off, and your pajamas—a set featuring Uta's face plastered all over, a playful gift from her before she went to sail with Luffy.

The robe you wrapped around yourself was adorned with Luffy’s jolly roger, a ridiculous but endearing gift from the cutie  himself. You sighed, raising your dual pistols to your side, wondering what kind of chaos you’d be walking into this time.

The hall was silent as you made your way down the stairs, moving like a shadow, every step measured, controlled. You clutched the pistols tightly, ready for anything. As you neared the kitchen, the faint sound of muffled whispers reached your ears—low voices, trying (and failing) to be quiet. You rolled your eyes, already guessing the culprits.

There were too many deep voices to be Luffy’s crew.

When you flicked on the light, the kitchen was suddenly bathed in a warm glow, and the scene before you could only be described as utter madness. Every available surface was covered in food, bottles of rum, and—most tellingly—members of the Red Hair Pirates. The twelve of them were scattered across your kitchen as if they owned the place.

Shanks’ crew, all of them: Benn Beckman, Lucky Roux, Yasopp, Hongo, Limejuice, Bonk Punch, Monster, Building Snake, Gab, Rockstar, and—by some cruel twist of fate—Uta wasn’t there this time. She was still off with her brother.

Yasopp was the first to notice you, though his reaction wasn’t what you expected. The second his gaze fell on you, still standing in the doorway with your pistols in hand and a full-on “I-will-kill-you” expression on your face, he burst into laughter. 

It started as a quiet chuckle but quickly grew louder, causing a ripple effect across the room. One by one, the rest of the crew joined in, their laughter filling the space until it felt like the walls themselves were vibrating with the sound.

Your eye twitched in annoyance. Standing there in your bunny slippers, hair in rollers, Uta PJ’s, green mud mask still smeared across your face, you probably looked more ridiculous than intimidating.

Like a pop princess wicked witch of the west. But you were still a Vice Admiral, and your patience had limits.

“Oh, this is rich,” Yasopp wheezed, doubling over as tears streamed from his eyes. “We’re gonna die—” He cut off with another fit of laughter, but before you could decide whether to shoot him or not, the back door swung open, revealing a familiar mop of red hair.

Shanks strode in, his entrance casual as ever. His trademark grin stretched across his face, a bottle of rum in one hand and a bouquet of wildflowers in the other. His eyes lit up when he saw you, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

“Hello my love!” he said brightly, as though this were a perfectly normal scene to walk into at what had to be three in the morning.

Your response was instinctive. You raised both pistols and fired—ten rapid shots that would’ve made any rookie in the Navy tremble. Shanks, to his credit, dodged every single one of them with that infuriating grace he always seemed to have, weaving between the bullets like it was all just a game.

“Now, now, let’s not start with violence!” Shanks laughed, clearly unfazed by the near-death experience. He took a step forward and offered the flowers toward you. “For you, my little sea monster.”

You huffed, your glare softening just a fraction as you lowered your pistols. Behind him, Benn Beckman gave you an apologetic smile, his hand already reaching into his coat. “We didn’t mean to disturb you. I wrote you a letter ahead of time,” he explained, holding out the envelope, 

“and we tried to be quiet…”

You sighed, arms crossing as you stared at the lot of them, still lounging around your kitchen as though they lived here. “Clearly, you failed.”

They all muttered their apologies, though none of them seemed particularly guilty. Lucky Roux stuffed his mouth with another pastry, while Bonk Punch and Monster shared a conspiratorial glance. Yasopp was still grinning like a fool, clearly amused by your appearance, though he was at least trying to stifle his laughter now.

Benn stepped forward with a steaming cup of tea, which he handed to you with a practiced air of calm. “In case you woke up,” he said gently, and before you could take a sip, Shanks handed you the bottle of rum with a wink.

“Don’t forget the important part.”

You rolled your eyes but accepted both. “You’re all lucky I like you,” you muttered before taking a seat in the barely-used dining room. Pistols stashed into your pockets, the crew, now more relaxed, went back to their conversations, though they kept their volume lower, out of some remaining respect for your sleep.

Shanks slid into the chair beside you, his arm resting lazily on the back of your seat. He didn’t say anything for a while, content to watch you as you stirred a bit of rum into your tea, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands.

After a few quiet moments, he leaned in, his voice dropping into that soft, almost tender tone he used only with you. 

“Come with me for a second?”

You arched a brow but didn’t protest. Shanks stood, grabbing the rum bottle as you followed him out of the room. He led you outside, through the back door and up a hidden staircase to the roof. The air was cool, the stars glittering above you like a sea of diamonds, and from this height, you could see the town below, quiet and peaceful in the night.

Shanks leaned against the railing, his gaze wandering across the horizon. You joined him, your eyes following the lines of the ships docked in the harbor and the soft glow of lanterns lining the streets.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore filling the silence. Then, Shanks let out a low chuckle.

“You’re still mad, huh?”

You snorted softly, taking a sip of your rum-laced tea. “You and your crew have a terrible sense of timing.”

His grin was mischievous, but there was something softer behind his eyes as he looked at you. “Well, I’ve always had a bad habit of showing up unannounced.” He reached over, brushing a thumb against your cheek, his touch light but affectionate. “But you’ve always taken care of us anyway.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Someone has to.”

The stars above stretched endlessly across the night sky, their brightness cutting through the dark canopy like diamonds spilled across velvet. It was your favorite part of living here—how open and vast the heavens always seemed. You found comfort in how steady they remained, unmoved by the chaos of life below. 

Sometimes, as you looked up at the twinkling lights, you wondered what it would be like to sail in the sky itself, drifting from planet to planet like the sea of stars was just another ocean. Luffy, ever the dreamer, always promised to make your wildest fantasies come true, and knowing him, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. 

But what about you? What about your responsibilities?

Shanks' voice pulled you from your thoughts, though you hadn’t caught his words.

"Hey, are you alright lass?" he asked softly, his tone laced with a gentle concern.

You blinked, turning your attention back to him, meeting those familiar, warm eyes that seemed to hold a world of their own. 

"Sorry, no. What did you say?"

He smiled, that easy, carefree grin that never quite matched the weight of his words. "I was asking if you’d join me at sea again."

The idea hung between you like the scent of saltwater that always seemed to cling to him. You opened your mouth, glancing toward the town below, gesturing to the village that stretched out in the distance, its peaceful quietness versus the unpredictability of a pirate’s life. The flicker of lanterns from the homes and streets was like the heartbeat of the place you’d sworn to protect.

But Shanks shook his head, his expression unbothered by your hesitation. "Not for long," he clarified. "Just two weeks. I know you couldn’t stay forever."

His words were calm, non-pressuring, but the temptation lingered like a beckoning wave. You mulled it over, your mind swimming with the responsibilities that weighed you down. You weren’t young anymore, at least not in the way that counted. The youthful impulsiveness of picking up and leaving whenever you felt like it had long passed. 

Now, you had cadets who looked up to you, a village that relied on your protection, and a life you couldn’t simply walk away from. The thought of leaving—even just for a few weeks—and returning to disaster haunted you.

Yet, here stood Shanks, the man who could never be caught, the one who had always captured your heart. He wasn’t crowding you, wasn’t demanding an answer. He was just… there, waiting, like always. He reached into his pocket and passed you a handkerchief. You hadn’t realized you still had remnants of your green face mask smeared across your cheek.

You took the handkerchief with a small, grateful nod, wiping away the last smudge of your mask. Shanks’ grin widened as he watched you, a mischievous glint lighting up his features.

"Lovely as ever," he said with that familiar charm.

You raised an eyebrow, disbelief clear on your face. "Really now?"

"Yes," he said, his tone softening into something more genuine. "Like the first day I saw you. You just keep getting better and better."

His words, while honest and genuine, cut deep. They were too real, too heartfelt for the situation you were both in. It hurt—knowing he meant every word. You let out a heavy sigh, your chest tightening as you voiced what was already understood. 

"That’s what makes this so painful, Shanks. We’ve been dancing around each other for years. How long can we keep playing this game?"

You both fell silent, a weight settling between you like the fog rolling off the sea. The unspoken truth was something everyone knew—from the Celestial Dragons to the mermaids deep in the ocean. Even the sea beasts you used to ride in your younger days knew: You and Shanks were in love. But there were laws to nature that even love couldn’t break. 

A bird and a fish could admire each other, even come to each other’s aid when needed, but they could never be together. One couldn’t fly, and the other couldn’t swim—not where it mattered.

"What a cruel twist of fate this is," you whispered, your voice barely carried by the wind.

Shanks nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Indeed."

The night carried on in its quiet way, the hum of distant waves filling the silence between you. You both sat there, not speaking, just watching each other, as if memorizing the lines of each other’s face.

His presence was like the sea—calm, vast, and eternal. You felt it deep in your bones, the pull toward him that was as strong as the tide, and yet you remained anchored here, to this place, this life.

Eventually, your eyes drifted back up to the sky, the stars glittering down on you like an endless sea of possibilities. The two of you were suspended between worlds, the stars and the ocean, the past and the future, and all you had was this fragile, fleeting moment.

Shanks followed your gaze, his hand brushing against yours in a light, almost accidental touch, as if he too was trying to capture something too precious to hold onto.

For now, that was enough.

There was no real use crying over it. You had both spent countless nights easing the sorrow of your situation in your own ways—Shanks drowning his thoughts at the bottom of another bottle, while you buried yourself in the work that defined you. The understanding he’d given you when you first saw this village in ruins so many years ago, when you decided to stay and rebuild it, still lingered between you. 

It had been a quiet acknowledgment, a silent support. He didn’t fight your decision, didn’t call it betrayal. Instead, he—and the rest of his crew—had simply accepted it, open arms waiting if you ever wanted to come back.

The night you became Vice Admiral was one you still laughed about, remembering their terrible disguises as they snuck into your ceremony. There was Benn Beckman in a comically oversized face mask, (you were all thankful that he wasn’t immediately recognized) Lucky Roux sporting a pair of ridiculous sunglasses, and Yasopp trying to hide his distinct dreads under a crooked wig. 

You’d all spent the evening in a local pub, singing sea shanties and dancing like no one was watching. The memories were a balm to the ache of what you couldn't have—the laughter, the carefree joy.

You smiled faintly now, the sea breeze playing with your hair as the memories came flooding back. Shanks had always been at the heart of it. You teased him mercilessly when you heard he’d taken in a daughter.

"Shanks, raising a kid? Who’s the poor soul responsible for keeping the both of you in line?" you had joked.

It was Benn, obviously. His face had lit up with pride as he spoke of Uta, and before, when he told you about a scrappy young boy named Luffy—the boy he believed would change the world.

And Luffy had. 

You’d come to know him well, hiding him and his crew whenever they came to pass. They always treated you like family, laughing and eating meals around your dining table, as if this was their home away from the seas. You adored Luffy’s brothers too—Ace, with his fiery spirit, and Sabo, with his quiet determination.

They’d both been reckless and had nearly gotten themselves killed more than once, leading to your stern lectures. But they always grinned sheepishly, knowing your scolding came from a place of deep affection.

Even Buggy—oh, Buggy. You picked fights with him like it was second nature, always at each other’s throats with bickering and insults. But despite the chaos, you were one of his oldest friends. The bond between you two ran deeper than either of you cared to admit.

When you’d heard about what he’d done to other villages, you punched him square in the nose. "Get it together, you ass hat," you growled, and he’d just sulked before eventually grumbling an apology.

And then there was Shanks' trust. His absolute faith in you, especially when it came to Uta. Whenever he had dangerous missions, he left her in your care, knowing no harm would come to her under your watch. The girl had become like a daughter to you, and even now, she sailed alongside Luffy, her spirit as free as the wind.

You entertained Mihawk whenever he happened to sail by, sharing quiet conversations and sparring matches under the moonlight. Perona would pop in with her gloomy charm, and you welcomed her with the same warmth you gave all of Luffy’s friends.

You had become a mother of sorts—a matriarch to all these misfit pirates who called the sea home. You were the unofficial wife of the Sea King, Shanks himself. Everyone saw it. The way he looked at you, the way you moved through his world without ever truly leaving yours.

And yet, despite it all, you didn’t rule by each other’s side.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of salt and seaweed, and Shanks exhaled slowly beside you. His eyes were distant now, focused on the horizon, but there was a heaviness in his posture that wasn’t there moments ago. The weight of your shared history pressed down on him as much as it did on you. His hand rested loosely on his bottle of rum, fingers tracing the glass absentmindedly. He’d had countless battles, faced impossible odds, but nothing stung quite like this—the unspoken truth that neither of you could deny.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, almost as if the words were too much to bear. "It does kill me, you know," he said, still staring out at the sea. "Not being able to hold you, not waking up with you by my side."

The confession hung between you, thick and painful. Your heart twisted, but you kept your eyes trained on the stars, refusing to let the emotion slip into your voice. "We have our duties," you replied softly. 

"Responsibilities of the same weight, just in different forms."

Your words were practical, almost cold in their truth. But beneath them lay the same yearning, the same ache that Shanks felt. He was right—it killed him. And it killed you too. But you both knew the rules of the game.

A fish couldn’t live in the sky, and a bird couldn’t swim in the depths.

You had your village, your cadets, your rank as Vice Admiral. He had the seas, his crew, the freedom to roam wherever the wind took him.

Your lives ran parallel but never quite intersected.

He shifted beside you, finally looking your way. There was a sadness in his eyes, one he never let anyone else see. "I never wanted to cage you," he murmured.

"But I never wanted to let you go either."

You turned to him then, meeting his gaze head-on. The raw vulnerability in his expression was too much. You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek, a small gesture of comfort in the midst of all this uncertainty.

"I know," you whispered, your voice gentle but firm.

"I know."

For a long moment, you simply held his gaze, letting the sea breeze carry away the tension between you. There was no easy answer, no solution to the impossible situation you found yourselves in. 

The stars twinkled overhead, casting their gentle light over the quiet village. The night was cool, and the sea breeze carried the scent of salt, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the nearby forest. You sat beside Shanks on a grassy knoll, the two of you a striking contrast to the stillness around you. The village, your home, rested in peaceful slumber behind you, its rooftops barely visible in the low light. 

You could hear the distant crash of waves against the shore, and for a brief moment, it was as though the world belonged to just the two of you.

There was a time where you both had talked about marriage. Shanks had brought it up many times over the years, his playful grin turning serious when the conversation lingered too long. You could still feel the warmth of his words, the weight of his unspoken promises, and the quiet desperation behind his eyes each time he spoke about wanting to make you his.

And yet, here you were. Still not married. Still bound by the same chains that had kept you apart for so long. You glanced over at him now, taking in the sight of the man who held your heart so tightly. His red hair, wild as ever, blew in the breeze, and the familiar scar over his eye seemed to catch the light just so.

His eyes, those deep, piercing eyes, held a softness reserved only for you, but there was something darker there too—an unspoken sorrow.

“We could’ve been married by now,” Shanks said, his voice low, cutting through the stillness. His gaze was fixed on the stars, but you knew his thoughts were off somewhere far deeper. “But I couldn’t do that to you. Not when it would ruin your life, your career.”

The words stung, but they were true. Marriage to a pirate, especially one like Shanks, would be a death sentence for your career. You’d lose everything—your rank as Vice Admiral, your home, your people.

You’d be hunted down, imprisoned, forced to leave the people you loved, the people you swore to protect. Your entire life would be torn apart.

Worst of all, they’d use you to lure out Shanks and have him killed.  

And Shanks knew it. He always did.

“I love you too much to put you through that kind of pain,” he continued, his voice soft but resolute. His fingers fidgeted with the bottle of rum beside him, but there was a tension in his posture, a heaviness in his shoulders. He hated this as much as you did—this cruel twist of fate that kept you apart.

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the stars. They twinkled innocently above, indifferent to the turmoil below. “I know,” you said quietly. “But I hate the thought of us being this… couple that can never truly be together. Not for more than a night.”

The thought weighed on you constantly—the idea that you could never have a life together. That you would always be bound by your respective worlds, able to steal moments but never truly share them. You had responsibilities. You had a village to protect, cadets who relied on you, a duty that couldn’t be abandoned. And Shanks had his crew, his mission, his endless journey across the seas.

But there was more to it. You knew Shanks. He was a man of action, a man who followed his heart. And in his heart, he refused to leave this world without being joined with you before God, as he had said countless times. The idea of dying without you as his wife was a torment he didn’t express often, but you knew it haunted him.

“What if something happened to me?” he asked suddenly, his voice thick with the weight of unspoken fears. He looked at you now, his eyes full of emotion.

“What if I died? You wouldn’t have any legal right to me. You’d be left with nothing. Unless…” His voice trailed off, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. “Unless the crew managed to pull off some ‘common law marriage’ scheme."

"But we’re more than that.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tightness in your chest. The thought of losing him, of having no claim to him, no right to mourn him as his wife, was unbearable. You were worth more than that. Your love was worth more than that. You weren’t some fleeting romance or a temporary connection.

You were each other’s heart and soul, two people who had shared years of laughter, hardship, and devotion.

And Shanks wanted to make it official. He wanted to make you his woman, his wife, and let the world know that you were his in every sense of the word.

He reached out then, his hand resting gently on yours. His touch was warm, familiar, and it steadied the storm brewing inside you. “I want to make you an honest woman,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I want to stand before God and make you mine, for real. No more games, no more pretending we’re something we’re not.”

You looked down at your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours, and the warmth of his palm grounded you. He had always been your anchor, the one person who could make everything feel right, even when the world seemed against you. But this—this was bigger than anything you could’ve imagined.

“Shanks,” you began, your voice wavering.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, his gaze intense as he leaned in closer. “I know. And that’s why I’ve never pushed it. But if there’s a way—if we could find a way—"

"I’d give up everything to have you by my side.”

The raw emotion in his voice, the sheer vulnerability, tore at your heart. This man, this legendary pirate who commanded the seas, who had fought wars and won impossible battles, was here, willing to risk it all for you. And you… you were stuck between two worlds, two impossible choices.

The stars seemed to dim in that moment, as if even they felt the weight of your decision. The village behind you, quiet and peaceful, stood as a reminder of all that you had built, all that you would lose. But beside you sat the man who had claimed your heart long ago, the man who wanted nothing more than to make you his forever.

“What do we do?” you whispered, your voice barely audible against the sound of the waves.

Shanks smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and shook his head. “We figure it out, like we always do.”

And with that, he pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, the strength in his embrace. You could lose yourself in the warmth of his presence, in the silent promise of the future you both wanted but could never fully grasp.

You pull away from Shanks' embrace slowly, feeling the warmth of his arm linger on your skin as you give him a small squeeze of reassurance. His presence, solid and comforting, is something you’ve known for so long, yet each time you step out of his hold, it feels like a tug on your heart.

With a soft sigh, you turn to face the open sky again, the stars above you glittering like a sea of diamonds.

“I could never ask you to abandon the sea,” you say quietly, breaking the stillness between you, “the same way you never asked me to abandon these people.”

The weight of those words sinks in as you reach up to take the curlers out of your hair. It’s a familiar routine, one you’ve done countless times. Yet tonight, with Shanks by your side, it feels different. There’s a certain tenderness in the air, a shared silence that speaks louder than any words ever could.

His rough, calloused fingers soon join yours, gently separating the pins and pulling each curler free. You let him help, allowing yourself to relish in the intimacy of this quiet moment.

One by one, the curlers come out, leaving your hair feeling lighter, bouncier, freer. Shanks hums softly, an old sea shanty you both know, as he carefully runs his fingers through your strands, styling it the way you like. The way he likes. His touch is surprisingly gentle for someone who’s lived such a rugged life, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his hands in your hair.

There’s a stillness between you, but the energy that passes through his fingertips speaks volumes. You feel it in the way his fingers brush lightly against your scalp, in the unspoken affection he shows through every careful motion. 

And all the while, there’s that look in his eyes again—the one you hate. That mix of longing and resignation, as if he’s silently saying goodbye to something he knows he can never truly keep.

Finally, when he’s satisfied with your hair, he drops his hand, letting it fall to his side, but he doesn’t look away. His gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world has stopped.

The stars, the village, the sea—all of it fades into the background, leaving just the two of you suspended in this fragile, bittersweet moment.

You can see the question in his eyes, the same one that’s been lingering between you for years: How much time do we have left? How many more moments like this can we steal before the world inevitably pulls us apart again? 

It’s a question neither of you can answer, but it’s always there, lurking beneath every shared glance, every touch, every word left unsaid.

Below, you can hear the sounds of the crew bustling in your kitchen. Their laughter and chatter filter through the open window, grounding you in the present. Plates clink together as they wash the dishes, their voices teasing and jovial as they talk about what they’ll bring you from the market tomorrow. 

You can almost picture them in your mind—scrubbing your pans with exaggerated care, making a mess of your kitchen, and scribbling down a list of things to restock your pantry. It brings a small smile to your lips, knowing they’re looking out for you in their own way.

The crew’s presence is a comfort, a reminder that you had a family on the seas. A family you’ve built with Shanks and his men. They’d never judged you for staying behind, for choosing a life of responsibility and duty over adventure. They understood you, accepted you, celebrated you, and always welcomed you back with open arms whenever you needed them.

They were your family too, in a way that was different from the villagers you protected.

Shanks, watching your expression soften, finally breaks the silence. “You know they’ll be back tomorrow, right?” he says, his voice low and teasing. “Probably with more supplies than you’ll know what to do with.”

You chuckle softly, breaking the tension as you shake your head. “I can already see it—half the market will be in my kitchen by morning.”

He laughs, a rich sound that rumbles deep in his chest, and it eases some of the ache in your heart.

Shanks’ laughter fades into a quiet hum, the sound trailing off as the two of you sit in the comforting stillness. Together, you glance over your garden, your gaze sweeping over the large pumpkins resting snugly in their beds of soil, their vibrant orange hue a testament to the months of careful tending. 

The last of your harvest is waiting to be gathered—a few stubborn tomatoes clinging to their vines, and some squash ready to be plucked before the first frost. Despite the season's end, your wildflowers still bloom with surprising vitality, their colorful petals swaying gently in the cool evening breeze, defying the inevitable chill creeping in.

Shanks shifts beside you, looking down at your small patch of land as though he’s taking mental notes. He’s never been much of a gardener, but he appreciates the life you've built here. He tilts his head thoughtfully before turning to you with a familiar grin.

“I’ll clean your gutters tomorrow,” he offers with a hint of amusement in his voice, knowing full well you’d never ask him outright.

You smile softly in return, murmuring a quiet, "Thank you," that lingers between you like a secret. But then, silence falls again. The two of you begin to search for excuses to prolong the moment, your eyes wandering over the garden and the stars, avoiding the looming reality of parting.

You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin atop them, making yourself smaller as the cool night air gently settles around your shoulders.

Shanks moves beside you, his hand lifting slightly as though to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, but he hesitates. Instead, his fingers shift course, and he cups your cheek with the softest touch. His thumb moves in slow circles over the apple of your cheek, the roughness of his skin a contrast to the tender way he holds you.

It’s such a simple gesture, yet it carries with it a thousand unspoken words, memories, and years of shared longing.

His touch lingers, pulling your gaze upward, and you meet his eyes. For a moment, the world seems to fade away. The years flash before you like a slideshow—quick scenes of laughter, of whispered promises, of stolen moments that felt too fleeting.

You can see it in his eyes too, the weight of time, the shared joy and heartache, all caught in that brief exchange. It overwhelms you, the thought of how much time has passed, how much you’ve both given and lost to the lives you’ve chosen.

Before you can stop yourself, you crawl into his arms, your body moving on instinct as you bury your face against his chest. His arms immediately wrap around you, pulling you close, holding you as though you might disappear at any moment. Shanks doesn’t say a word, and for that, you’re grateful. He understands. 

He always does.

You feel the tightness in your throat, and as your tears begin to gather, you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to keep them at bay. But it’s no use. The warmth of Shanks’ embrace, the quiet hum of the night, the distant sounds of the crew still lingering in the kitchen—it all presses down on you, and a tear slips free, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. You know he feels it, but he doesn’t comment. He just holds you tighter.

Shanks rests his chin atop your head, his breath slow and steady, but you can feel the slight tremble in his arms. He’s fighting his own tears, just like you. The weight of all the years, all the distance, all the longing—it’s too much for either of you to bear alone, but together, in this small stolen moment, it’s almost manageable.

A breeze rustles through the trees, sending a few stray leaves fluttering down into the garden below. The wildflowers sway again, their petals catching the moonlight in a delicate dance. Above, the stars continue to shine, as if oblivious to the heavy silence that hangs between you.

The world continues on, indifferent to your pain, but in Shanks’ arms, it feels like, just for a moment, the two of you are the only ones in it.

Neither of you speaks. You don’t need to. The tears you shed, the way you cling to him, the way he holds you close—all of it says more than words ever could. Neither of you wants to break the fragile moment, both knowing that the weight of your responsibilities keeps you from being together in the way your hearts long for.

Suddenly, with a shift of movement, Shanks stands, taking you with him in a single fluid motion. His arm slides under your bottom, steadying you as he bounces you up to secure your position.

You yelp in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck and instinctively hooking your legs around his waist. A laugh bubbles from your lips, despite the lingering sadness, as he effortlessly carries you down from the roof.

The soft crunch of grass beneath his boots fills the quiet air, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore.

Shanks walks for what feels like forever, carrying you down the steep path toward the beach. You keep your eyes closed, resting your head against his shoulder, listening to the rhythm of his steps and the gentle lull of the ocean.

When you finally open your eyes, you see Shanks has a small dinghy set up near the water, a modest lantern flickering at its side. He sets you down gently, taking a step back before bowing dramatically, a roguish smile playing at his lips. 

“My lady, would you do me the honor,” he says in mock formality, “of joining me on the water tonight?”

Your heart flutters, a mix of excitement and hesitation swelling in your chest. The responsible part of you screams that you have work tomorrow, that you could be seen. But your heart—oh, your heart aches to say yes. After all, so little happens here, and no one’s likely keeping watch. You gaze at the man you’ve loved for more than half your life, his eyes shimmering with the moonlight and something deeper.

“How could I refuse such a gracious offer from a fine gentleman like yourself?” you respond playfully, your lips curving into a smile.

Shanks grins and takes your hand, helping you step into the small boat before he pushes off from the shore. The dinghy rocks gently as the ocean cradles it, the sound of water lapping against the hull blending with the night’s peaceful rhythm. Soon, the lantern’s glow is the only thing illuminating the quiet waters as the two of you drift farther from the beach.

The moonlight glistens on the surface of the ocean, catching the peaks of the waves like scattered diamonds. The soft, silvery light bathes the world around you in a dreamlike glow, and for a moment, it feels as though time has slowed, leaving just you, Shanks, and the sea. 

You dip your fingers into the cool water, feeling its gentle caress against your skin. Shanks chuckles softly beside you, warning, “Mind your hands.”

You splash him lightly in response, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. The two of you share a quiet laugh, the tension easing as you lose yourselves in the serenity of the ocean.

'This,' you think, is what you’ve always loved most about sailing—the way the world transforms under the night sky, how the ocean becomes a tranquil mirror reflecting the stars above. It’s a reminder of how vast and beautiful the world is, even in its quiet moments.

Leaning over the side of the boat, you gaze down into the water, marveling at the world below. The fish and sea creatures seem to be sleeping, floating peacefully just beneath the surface. Everything feels so calm, so different from the chaos of the day. The ocean’s gentle lull, the stars twinkling above—it’s all mesmerizing.

But for Shanks, the real beauty isn’t the ocean or the stars—it’s you. He watches as you lose yourself in the wonder of the world around you, your eyes alight with curiosity and joy, your smile so radiant it could rival the sun. 

You don’t even realize it, but to him, you’ve always been the most ethereal sight, the one thing that makes this vast, untamable world feel like home.

The boat drifts gently on the quiet waters, the two of you nestled against each other as the lantern’s soft glow casts a warm circle of light. The ocean hums in the background, the sound of the waves gently slapping against the sides of the dinghy, while overhead, the stars twinkle like tiny beacons of light in the vast night sky.

It feels as though the world beyond the sea doesn’t exist, and for a while, you both simply enjoy the tranquility.

But soon, conversation naturally flows between you and Shanks, the easy back-and-forth of two souls who have shared a lifetime of stories and adventures. Luffy comes up first, his boundless energy and unshakable optimism always making you smile. Then there’s Ace, Uta, Sabo—each memory shared with fondness and a tinge of sadness as you recall the times spent with them, wondering where life will lead them next.

Shanks talks about Buggy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his long-time friend’s antics. “Buggy’s going to find the One Piece before any of us,” you tease, leaning back into Shanks' warmth. “Can’t wait to see the look on your face when he does.”

Shanks grins, shaking his head. “If that clown gets there first, I might just retire early,” he jokes, the humor in his voice laced with the familiarity of an old friendship.

Then, as conversations between you often do, the topic shifts to the grand mystery that’s captivated the world—the One Piece. You tilt your head, watching the moonlight dance over the water, your thoughts racing with ridiculous theories. 

“You know,” you begin, your tone half-serious, “I think the real reason Benn’s wanted dead is because of his past in the Marines.”

Shanks raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on…”

You lean in, voice dropping conspiratorially. “I think Benn knows what the One Piece really is.”

Shanks smirks, amused by your sudden shift into wild theorizing. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You can’t help but grin, the ridiculousness of your idea bubbling up. “It’s a wax strip.”

He blinks, staring at you like you’ve lost your mind. “A… wax strip?”

“Yep,” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “You see, back in the day, there was this legendary sleepover with Monkey D. Dragon, Gold Roger, and Whitebeard. They tried this beauty regiment, you know, to keep their rugged looks under control. But something went horribly wrong, and now Dragon’s been walking around without eyebrows ever since.”

Shanks stares at you, and you can see the moment the absurdity of your theory sinks in. His eyes widen in disbelief before a bark of laughter escapes him. “Wait— so Dragon lost his eyebrows during a sleepover with Roger?!”

You nod solemnly. “Exactly. And the One Piece is the last remaining proof of that night—a wax strip containing Dragon’s eyebrows. That’s why they had to execute Roger, to keep the secret from getting out!”

Shanks doubles over, his laughter coming in great, booming waves. His whole body shakes with it, and he grips the edge of the boat, trying to steady himself.

“I— I can’t—” he chokes out between gasps for breath. His face is flushed, tears of laughter threatening to spill from his eyes.

You can’t help but join him, your own giggles bubbling up as you watch him lose it completely. You let go of the oars to clutch your stomach, trying not to tip the boat over as the two of you howl with laughter.

“I’m serious!” you manage to get out, though the ridiculousness of your own theory makes it hard to keep your voice steady.

Shanks wheezes, wiping a hand across his face. “Eyebrows… eyebrows… with a wax strip!”

He shakes his head, barely able to breathe as he leans back against the side of the boat, still snickering.

“I swear, only you could come up with something like that.”

The boat sways gently beneath you as you both try to regain control, and you grab the oars, taking over steering the dinghy while Shanks continues to laugh. You glance back at him, shaking your head in mock frustration.

“Well, someone’s gotta steer while you recover from my genius theory.”

Shanks sits up, trying to catch his breath. His eyes are still sparkling with mirth, the solemnity that had clouded them earlier completely wiped away by your absurdity. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks at you with a grin that’s both affectionate and teasing. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

You shrug, still chuckling. “Maybe. But I’ve kept you entertained all these years, haven’t I?”

He nods, his laughter finally dying down, but his smile remains. “That you have.” His voice softens, and the mood between you shifts slightly, the laughter giving way to something quieter, more intimate.

Moonlight reflects off the water, the gentle rocking of the boat creating a sense of calm that wraps around you both. As you dip your fingers into the cool water again, feeling the sea’s steady pulse, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The beauty of the night, the ridiculousness of your conversation, and the way Shanks looks at you—everything feels perfect, like the ocean has swallowed up all the heaviness of the world and left you with just this moment.

And though Shanks has stopped laughing, he’s still watching you, his gaze filled with that familiar warmth. The sight of you leaning over the boat, eyes full of wonder as you take in the night sky and the calm waters, never fails to amaze him.

To him, you’re the real treasure in this world, your joy and curiosity shining brighter than any moon or stars.

Soon, it becomes even later, and you both return to your house. The house is still as you and Shanks quietly slip through the front door, the faint scent of saltwater and sea clinging to your clothes.

The soft sound of your slippers barely echoes as you both tiptoe through the rooms, careful not to wake the sleeping crew scattered across your kitchen and dining room. 

Blankets and pillows have been pulled from the guest closet, and you can make out the tangled mess of limbs, chests rising and falling in peaceful slumber. Someone’s snoring lightly, and the soft murmur of sleep-talking drifts through the air as you navigate past them.

You exchange a glance with Shanks, and a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. It feels like sneaking in after a long adventure, the comforting sense of home mingling with the reminder of the fleeting time you have together. His hand brushes yours, a fleeting touch that anchors you in the moment as you both climb the stairs with careful steps, finally making your way to your bedroom.

Once inside, you close the door gently behind you. The familiar scent of your sheets, the worn, cozy blankets, and the soft light filtering through the curtains create an intimate cocoon. Shanks shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the bedpost, and you can’t help but grin at the casual ease of it all.

For a moment, it feels like he’s never left.

“Have you taken any lovers since I last saw you?” you tease, your voice low and playful as you sit on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots.

“I keep telling you that it wasn’t like that with Mihawk!” Shanks replied, his voice hushed but carrying a laugh.

“So you say,” you quip, eyes twinkling with mischief. But there’s no jealousy in your words, only the shared understanding that the bond between you both could never be betrayed.

You both giggle, the sound soft and intimate, knowing full well that neither of you would ever stray. Shanks stands, stepping over to your dresser where your anchor earrings sit. He plucks them up and then reaches into his pocket, retrieving a new set of earrings shaped like a ship's helm. Without a word, he places them next to your old ones, the subtle gesture saying more than words ever could. 

A piece of him, left with you.

You crawl back under the covers, the weight of the day catches up with you, the sea breeze still lingering on your skin. Shanks settles beside you, watching you with that ever-present glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

You watch him, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. He turns back to you, and before he can slip under the covers, you reach out, cupping his face with your hands. Your fingers poke and prod at him, squishing his cheeks in playful teasing.

His skin is warm under your touch, rough from years at sea, but familiar. You even pick at his scruff a bit. He squints at you in mock offense, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Go ahead, bite me,” you challenge with a grin, your voice barely above a whisper but playful nonetheless.

Shanks chuckles through his nose, his teeth flashing in the low light as he leans in and gently snaps his jaws at you, catching your finger between his teeth in the softest, most careful bite. He holds it there for a second before kissing it gently, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down your spine.

You pull your hand back and snuggle down into the mattress, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Shanks joins you, his strong arms slipping around you as the two of you settle into the comfort of each other’s presence. His body is warm and familiar, his scent a mix of the ocean and the faint hint of rum.

The silence stretches out, peaceful but heavy with unspoken words. Shanks’ voice breaks it first, quiet and reflective.

“I’ll be gone in the morning.”

You swallow, your throat tightening at the inevitable. “I know,” you whisper, staring at the dark ceiling.

He shifts beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “I’m going to miss you,” he says, his voice barely above a murmur, filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“As will I,” you manage to say, though the words feel too small for the weight of what you feel.

A beat of silence passes before Shanks speaks again, this time his voice softer, more serious. “Can I tell you something?”

You turn your head to look at him, your eyes searching his face in the dim light. “Yes?”

He hesitates for just a moment, and when he speaks, his words are laced with raw emotion.

“I love you.”

The confession makes your heart clench, the quiet sincerity of it hitting you like a wave. You’ve known it, felt it in the way he’s always treated you, but hearing it spoken aloud—especially now, on the edge of another departure—makes part of you want to cry.

“I… I love you too,” you whisper, your voice trembling despite yourself.

Shanks’ hand moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that escapes before you even realize it’s there. “In case I die tomorrow,” he says softly, his voice barely a breath, “I want you to hear it one more time.”

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air between you, and you can’t help but bury your face against his chest, trying to hold back the sob that threatens to escape. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, grounding you in the present.

You close your eyes, willing the moment to last, even as the heaviness of his impending departure settles over both of you like a storm cloud waiting to burst.

The morning light pours through your window, casting long shadows on the wooden floor. You stir, reaching out to the empty space beside you, and, as expected, find it cold.

Shanks is gone, true to his word. You sigh softly, sitting up in bed, pulling the covers around you for just a moment longer. But then the smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the house, and your curiosity draws you downstairs.

In the kitchen, everything is pristine. The countertops gleam, your pantry is fully restocked, and a neat stack of notes sits on the stove. You pick one up, recognizing Benn’s precise, no-nonsense handwriting.

A brief note, polite as ever, informing you that everything was taken care of: your gutters cleaned, garden weeded, and the trash dutifully taken out. 

You smile at the thoroughness of it all, imagining Shanks probably supervising the entire crew to ensure everything was done right. Your eyes drift to the corner of the room where your favorite scarf used to hang, only to notice it’s missing.

In its place, a vibrant red sash and a neatly wrapped box for your pistols now rest, a clear sign that Shanks had left a part of himself behind once more.

You pick up the red sash and hold it for a moment, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. Then, with a sigh, you begin to get dressed, opting for something simple at first—a starch white blouse that feels cool against your skin, paired with a navy blue pencil skirt.

But as time ticks away, the pressure of duty calls, and you finally surrender to the full uniform. You button up the military jacket with its crisp white fabric, pull on your cap, and lace up your combat boots.

The final touch is the red sash, which you tie snugly around your waist for comfort, a small piece of Shanks’ world blending with your own.

Stepping outside, the morning air feels crisp, the breeze carrying the faint scent of the sea. You make the familiar walk down the hill, your boots crunching over the dirt path, your thoughts scattered between Shanks’ departure and the day ahead. As you near the village, however, you’re met with an unusual commotion. There’s a buzz of excitement in the marketplace, people whispering and pointing toward the docks.

You pick up your pace, weaving through the crowded market, dodging vendors and children playing in the streets. The sound of hurried feet matches the beat of your heart as you make your way to the docks. And then you see it: the unmistakable sight of Admiral Garp’s great ship, its massive sails billowing as it rolls into the harbor.

The towering figure of Garp stands at the helm, his broad shoulders and unmistakable grin visible even from this distance.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief washing over you. With a quick salute to the other marines at the docks, you leap onto the ship, barely giving the cadets time to register your presence. They jump aside as you dart past them, your eyes fixed on the familiar figure ahead.

Before you can even greet him properly, Garp’s arms are around you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. His laugh is loud and booming, the kind that shakes your entire frame. His massive hand slaps your back with affection, the force almost sending you stumbling. 

“There you are!” Garp beams, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was starting to think I’d have to drag you down from that hill of yours.”

You chuckle breathlessly, your ribs aching wonderfully from the sheer force of his hug. 

“You know I wouldn’t miss you coming into town, old man.”

Before you can say more, you feel a small weight cling to your hip. Looking down, you see a pair of tiny arms wrapped around your waist. A bright pair of curious eyes look up at you, and a grin splits your face as you recognize the small boy holding onto you.

Your heart swells as you see the familiar bright eyes of your seven-year-old son, his small arms wrapping tightly around your waist. His fiery red hair, unmistakably like his father’s, catches the sunlight, creating a soft halo around his cherubic face. His smile mirrors yours, full of joy and innocence. 

Not far behind him is your oldest daughter, walking with that confident stride you’ve seen in yourself for years. She’s fifteen now, her auburn hair rich and vibrant, carefully styled the half braided way you taught her, cascading down her shoulders in waves.

Her face is your mirror image, except for her eyes—either wide, deep pools like the night sky reflected in the ocean or sharp and cunning, with a twinkle of mischievous intent that’s all her own.

Or maybe a repressed part of you. 

“Mom!” your son exclaims, his small hand reaching for yours. You scoop him up in one swift motion, hugging him close to your heart. Your daughter sidles up next to you, her arms crossing playfully as she surveys the scene with that knowing smirk.

“Miss me?” you ask, ruffling your son’s hair and pressing a quick kiss to his temple. He giggles, nodding vigorously before trying to wriggle free.

“Of course, they missed you,” Garp chimes in, a grin on his face as he watches the reunion. “Though I think they enjoy ‘grandpa’ time more than they let on.”

You give Garp a grateful nod. “Thanks again for keeping them busy. I know how much they love running around with you.”

Your daughter laughs, her voice ringing with a mix of sarcasm and sincerity. “Oh yeah, grandpa has the best stories, especially the ones about how he used to throw cannonballs at people.”

You shoot her a look that says behave, but she just winks at you, flipping her auburn hair over her shoulder. Her brother, ever eager to help, adjusts the strap of her large bag that he’s somehow decided to carry for her. She, in turn, holds his much smaller backpack, their roles hilariously reversed as they shuffle beside you.

You three start the walk back home, their small hands in yours, swinging gently as they chatter about their adventures with "grandpa."

Your son’s voice is filled with awe as he recounts how Garp taught him to dodge imaginary cannonballs, while your daughter’s tone is more measured, full of wit as she talks about navigating the ship’s rigging like a pro.

“I could totally be a pirate, you know,” your daughter muses, casting a sidelong glance at you, her auburn hair gleaming in the sun.

“Not like a bad one, just… you know, one of those good ones, like Uncle Luffy.”

You smile knowingly, squeezing her hand. “A pirate, huh? You know your dad wouldn’t be too happy to hear that.”

She shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “He’s not here to say no, is he?”

Your son giggles at that, tugging on your arm as he jumps over a small rock.

"But I’m gonna be a marine! Just like you, Mama. And fight bad guys!"

His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can't help but laugh, thinking how they’ve inherited the best and most chaotic traits from both you and Shanks.

As you reach the house, the familiar creak of the door welcomes you home. Your son immediately kicks off his shoes, darting into the living room while your daughter takes a more measured approach, carefully setting down her bag and tidying up the space as if it’s her own personal domain.

“I’ll get changed,” your daughter calls out, already halfway up the stairs with your son at her heels.

“Don’t take too long,” you respond, your voice trailing after them. You take a moment to breathe, the house suddenly quiet save for the faint sounds of your children settling into their routine.

Your gaze falls on the kitchen counter, where the notes from Shanks' crew are stacked neatly. You pick them up, glancing at the distinct handwriting. These notes are a secret you’ve kept close to your heart, carefully hidden from prying eyes.

Not even Shanks knows about the of half of life you’ve built here. The villagers think you’re married to a man who works overseas. Only a few, like Mihawk and Luffy’s crew, have come close to uncovering the truth.

With the notes safely tucked into your purse, you can’t help but glance around the house—a place where every corner holds a memory of you and the kids. It’s a life filled with quiet joys, secrets woven into the fabric of your everyday life, a delicate balance between worlds.

The thought of Shanks lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it's pushed aside as you focus on your children. They’re your best-kept secret, a legacy of love and strength that connects you to both the sea and the land, as you’ve always been torn between the two.

You watch as your daughter, Mariana, comes bounding down the stairs, her curly auburn hair bouncing with every step. She looks like a flash of sunlight, her bright eyes scanning the room as she carries her silver sandals in hand. You can’t help but smile—she’s always been so full of life, a perfect mix of your stubbornness and her father’s boundless energy. Her bare feet pad softly against the wooden floor, and she glances at you with a mischievous grin.

“Mom, are there any snacks?” she asks, already half-knowing the answer.

You tilt your head toward the back door, giving her a playful look.

"There’s still fruit from the yard."

“Score!” she exclaims, her excitement bubbling over as she practically skips toward the back door, already dreaming of the sweet taste of ripe peaches.

You watch as she swings the screen door open with a flick of her wrist, the sunlight filtering through and casting a golden glow over her figure. Her silhouette looks so much like you at that age, yet there’s something else—something wild and untamed about her that reminds you of the sea. 

It reminds you of him.

You sigh, feeling that familiar weight pressing on your chest. Shanks doesn’t know. He’s never known. And every day, as Mariana grows more curious and your son becomes more aware, the burden of that secret becomes heavier. You’ve managed to avoid the question time and time again, especially with Mariana. 

She’s smart—too smart for her own good—and every so often, her sharp, inquisitive nature leads her to ask about her father. You’ve always found a way to deflect, to change the subject, but with each passing year, it feels like you’re running out of excuses.

Your son, on the other hand, barely asks. He’s content in his little world, more attached to you and the village than Mariana ever has been. But that doesn’t lessen the guilt you feel. The worst part of it all? 

You’ve never told Shanks. Not one word.

He doesn’t know that he has a daughter who shares his vibrant spirit, or a son with his piercing red hair. 

He doesn’t know that the two children running through your home, laughing, playing, and growing up in the safety of this small village, are his.

And how could he?

How could you shatter his world with the truth? He’s worked his whole life to protect the seas, to maintain the balance of power, to keep the chaos at bay. You know what kind of man Shanks is—if he knew, he’d give it all up in a heartbeat to be here. To be with you. To raise them.

And who would be there to keep peace in the seas then?

You loved the village, the safety it provided. It was your sanctuary, a place where you didn’t have to worry about your children being held for ransom or hunted like some sick prize because of who their father is.

But every time you think of that last visit with Shanks, when he stood in your kitchen, laughing with you and stealing glances like he always had, it took everything in you not to crumble. To not bow and confess everything—the sins, the secrets, the life you’ve hidden from him for so long.

A part of you wanted to. You wanted to fall at his feet and tell him the truth, to take his hand and show him the family he didn’t know he had. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"Mom, I'm staying outside!" Mariana’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up, seeing her standing by the back door, already slipping her sandals on.

"Don’t go too far!" you call after her, though you know she’s probably already halfway back to the peach  tree, her favorite spot in the yard. You smile despite the ache in your heart.

Mariana, so full of life, is your pride and joy. She’s quick-witted and cunning, always one step ahead of everyone, including you. It’s the same kind of cleverness you’ve seen in Shanks a thousand times, the way he always seemed to anticipate what was coming before anyone else did.

You wonder how long it’ll be before she pieces it all together—the resemblance, the stories, the red hair her brother shares with the infamous pirate.

As she disappears into the garden, you run a hand over the kitchen counter, absently picking at the sash left by Shanks. Your eyes scan the outside, but your mind is elsewhere. Shanks is out there, somewhere, unaware of the legacy he’s left behind.

The truth lingers in the air, unspoken, but ever-present. And one day, you know, you won’t be able to keep it hidden any longer.

Mariana, your star of the sea, was already off in the yard, likely sitting high in the branches of the peach tree with her sandals discarded in the grass. Her laughter echoed faintly through the open window, blending with the soft rustle of the breeze. 

Inside, Luca, your moon, was making his usual descent—sliding down the banister of the stairs, too lazy to take them step by step. His red hair caught the light from the window as he landed with a thud, standing proudly before you with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“Oh, Luca,” you murmur, shaking your head with affection as he strides over to you, his chest puffed out. “What am I going to do with you?”

Luca, your greatest helper when it came to finding the “best” rocks on the beach. Who was very bit as in awe of the world around you. Who was skittish of thunder but always ready and willing to fight for his sister. His little arms always holding some wild creature that he’s found while exploring. Picking twigs out of his sister's hair while he himself was covered in sand.

The little one who had once dyed his hair blue using paint because he was curious about how it would look. 

If you had to pick him from a line up of other children with a resemblance to Shanks you’d choose this cool little dude that has a heart as big as his father. 

Luca doesn’t answer, only beams up at you with those bright eyes—your eyes—and you scoop him up into your arms despite his whines.

His legs kick in mock protest, but you kiss his round cheeks anyway, peppering his face with affection. His giggles fill the room, that sweet, innocent laughter that tugs at your heart.

“Stop! I’m a man!” he squeals between fits of laughter, trying to wriggle out of your embrace.

“Oh, a man, are you?” you tease, holding him tighter and pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Well, this man is still my baby boy.”

You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his small body against yours, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Just you and your children in the safety of your home, far away from the dangers of the sea. You smooth a hand over Luca’s red hair, wondering—if Shanks could see this, if he could see how much Luca looks like him—would he even need you to say the words?

Raising them without him had been the hardest thing you’d ever done. It felt wrong, every lie, every evasion of the truth, every time you had to cover up why you couldn’t tell him.

You’d sent aid when you couldn’t be there for a fight, feigned illness or some convenient excuse when he’d visited on nights the children were staying in your room.

On those nights, you’d stayed downstairs, telling Shanks it was for old times’ sake, a ‘slumber party’ for the two of you, when in reality, you were protecting the secret that grew harder to contain with each passing day.

You’d felt Benn’s eyes on you, too. How many times had he nearly stumbled upon the bottles, pacifiers, and toys you’d hastily hidden? Maybe he already knew and was keeping your secret, but you’d never asked. The fewer people who knew, the safer your children would be.

Luca’s laughter dies down, and he nuzzles into you, resting his head on your shoulder. The weight of his small form in your arms feels like the weight of the world at times, the burden of secrets and lies pressing down on you. But here, now, in this moment, it’s just you and your son.

You don’t hear the footsteps outside. You don’t hear the soft creak of your front door opening or the steady sound of boots on the wooden floor. You're too wrapped up in Luca, kissing his cheeks again, earning another round of giggles. It’s only when you hear your name being called—familiar, yet unexpected—that your heart skips a beat.

“My love?”

The voice is unmistakable, and your breath catches in your throat as you turn, still holding Luca in your arms. There, standing in the entryway, is Shanks.

The room seems to shrink, and time feels like it slows to a crawl. Shanks stands in the doorway, sunlight framing his figure, his usual carefree smile faltering slightly as his eyes land on you and Luca.

There’s a moment of silence, thick with unspoken words and heavy with the weight of what you’ve hidden for so long. Luca, oblivious to the tension, wriggles in your arms, his small voice breaking through the quiet. 

“Mama, who’s that?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as Shanks’ gaze shifts to Luca, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, he looks at Luca—really looks at him—and you can see the realization starting to dawn on his face. The same red hair, your sweet grin, the spark of life in his eyes.

“y/n…”

End of part 1, second half to be posted 09/09/24

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[tossawary]

Thinking about a "One Piece" AU, where all of the East Blue Strawhats have actually met each other before Luffy starts sailing. Because Nami and Zoro are both wandering pretty far, easily able to meet anyone, and Sanji is on the Baratie, which is also moving around and may dock at various islands.

So, let's say that the Redhair Pirates briefly dock near Syrup Village on their way back to Foosha Village, and young Usopp stows away so that he can go be a brave adventurer like his father. For a couple weeks, little Usopp and little Luffy are rolling all over town together like frolicking puppies, until the Redhair Pirates are ready to head out again and drop Usopp back home along the way (Yasopp is going to be in SUCH shit with his wife). Little Usopp goes back to tell everyone about this kid he saw eat a devil fruit that turned him into a rubber man, such that Usopp could use the other boy's fingers as a makeshift slingshot to fight off crocodiles! They had great fun trying to figure out Luffy's ridiculous new powers together and coming up with silly attack names.

And no one believes this story from Usopp because it's absurd. After a few years, Usopp starts to wonder if he actually made the whole trip up, if he's just lying to himself too, until Luffy finally shows up again and it's like the Spider-Man meme. "YOU," Usopp says, pointing with a trembling finger, until Luffy makes a noise like a squeaky toy and then tackles Usopp for the tightest and happiest hug anyone has ever seen.

Little Usopp meets little Nami at one point because she's just passing through, picking pockets, waiting for her next ship, and she steals from Usopp what she THOUGHT was money but actually turns out to be exploding paint pellets or something. So, a paint-stained little Nami turns on Usopp like, "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS???" because she's so shocked and angry about her cute new outfit being ruined, and he ends up apologizing (just full on sobbing) to HER for not being a good enough pickpocketing mark.

The Baratie docks at Usopp's island at some point to pick up groceries, maybe they got blown off course by a storm, so young Sanji meets young Usopp at a market stand selling spicy peppers. Usopp spins Sanji long and complicated stories about the flavor and rarity of the peppers, how he labored for many days through terrible dangers to pick them, and then someone else gets back to the stall and says, "Thanks for watching it for me, kid." And Sanji is like, "What?" And Usopp has to admit that he doesn't actually work there. He does know a lot about peppers, though! However, he was also lying a bit... maybe a lot...

Zoro meets Usopp and Luffy because he's hunting bounties through their islands. (Luffy falls in love INSTANTLY. I wrote another post about that.) The little Usopp Pirates become convinced that Zoro is a pirate invading their island, so they get Usopp to come "fight" Zoro, which ends up being Usopp guiding a lost Zoro (the kids set up so many fucking traps, he is NOT having a good time) to the nearest bar. They hang out for a bit. Usopp got a little tipsy. Usopp CLAIMS later though that he fought a ferocious, green-haired pirate who had swords instead of hands.

Young Sanji meeting young Nami is just a classic case of "you let that pretty girl have HOW MUCH in free food???" Zoro probably tracked a bounty to the Baratie at some point and got in a fight with the waiter; Zeff won't just ban the fucker because Zoro did actually pay his bill and Sanji HATES it. Zoro and Nami could have met at any point in their travels; they could have even had a navigator & bodyguard setup for a little while, before Nami ran off with all of some pirate bounty's treasure.

The Baratie usually wouldn't dock somewhere like Foosha Island, but they were in the area and Zeff wasn't such a fan of Goa Kingdom. Little Luffy wasn't even allowed in, but Sanji fed him some food out the back anyway, and Luffy decided then and there that Sanji was going to be his cook. Sanji said, "You are fucking crazy," of course, but no one has ever reacted to his All Blue dream like Luffy did. So when Luffy finally comes looking for him, Sanji still immediately says, "Fuck off, I'm not going!!!" but he's also smiling so wide at seeing this crazy kid again. It fools no one.

Nami probably went treasure hunting in the jungles there. She screamed at the top of her lungs when a 15-year-old boy dropped out of the trees and said, "Hey!!! What are you doing? Ohhh, are you treasure hunting? Can I help?!" (Ace has just set sail. Luffy is bored.) Nami could use the help, so she allows it, figuring that she'll find a way to trick Luffy at the end. But after their wacky adventure together, Luffy is like, "That was fun!!! You can take all of the treasure now, I don't need it," and young Nami doesn't say no but it breaks her brain a little bit. What kind of idiot says that the adventure is the best part and actually MEANS it?

So, they're all screwed by the time that Luffy sets sail. He's coming for them! He'll find them all eventually! ♥️

Alternatively: none of the East Blue Strawhats meet each other beforehand but they do all meet Ace when he sets sail. Has anyone in the world ever talked about their little brother this much??? This Luffy kid doesn't sound like a real person. And then two years later, they all run into Luffy and they're like, "Oh, shit, he's real."

[innerfare]

Random Shanks Headcanons 

Summary: A random collection of Shanks headcanons

CW: None // SFW

———

Has a fake arm that he uses for gags. Only he and Yasopp find it funny. Beckman once tossed the arm overboard after Shanks ‘lost’ the arm in a pot of Lucky Roux’s stew, only for Shanks to enter the mess hall the next morning with another attached to his body. 

Can do magic tricks, especially good with coins and cards. A very skilled sleight of hand artist. Also not above using these tricks to cheat while playing cards. (Inspired by the coin game w/ Luffy flashback). Cheating is the only way he can beat Beckman, who’s by far the best player on the crew. But he doesn’t even cheat to win, he just likes the thrill of getting away with it; also enjoys the thrill of getting caught. There was a rabbit loose aboard the Red Force for a solid month after the captain tried to learn how to pull it out of a hat.

The best beer pong player in the New World, probably the entire world. Would challenge all of his enemies to a game of beer pong to settle their disputes if he thought they would respect the results of the game. Good at drinking games in general (has a little too much experience).

Is an infamous gossip. If a member of the crew wants word to get out about something, they just mention it to their captain. 

Enjoys playing matchmaker. Always acts as a wingman for his crew when there’s a pretty bar maid. The only one he never tried to fix up with one of his crew mates was his darling Makino. 

Are soap operas a thing in the One Piece universe? Because if so, he has a favorite that he never misses an episode of (fights hardest on Thursdays so he can be home in time to catch the latest episode of Search for One Piece, a pirate drama based loosely on Roger’s life. He particularly enjoys the harlequin character). 

Loves meddling in any drama that comes up aboard the ship. Sometimes even starts drama just for entertainment, like the time he told Lucky Roux that he saw Limejuice sneaking steaks from the freezer, or when he robbed Beckman blind and left traces of a turkey leg at the scene of the crime. 

Thinks childish pranks are the funniest thing in the world. Pranks prospective crew members to see how they respond; screens them based on whether they find his jokes funny. Beckman insists this is not the best way to do things but Shanks persists. But Shanks isn't just being childish. He's making sure everyone who joins his crew has a good nature as that is, in his opinion, the most important thing. If you can't trust your crew, you're dead in the water.

Was definitely posing when the government snapped the photo for his wanted poster but pretends it was completely candid. Has a habit of comparing his wanted poster to the posters of his enemies.

He also uses his wanted poster to fish for compliments, especially from his crew. “That’s a pretty good picture, isn’t it?” “I don’t look half bad in that, do I?” “The real reason the marines are hunting me- the sight of my wanted poster makes their wives swoon.”  

Refers to himself as, “that handsome devil.” 

Smells like body odor and weed, but in a Matthew McConaughey kind of way (that is to say, it works for him). 

Animals and babies always like him. He insists the trick is to act uninterested. 

He is genuinely good-natured, but he definitely uses his sense of humor to disguise how terrifying he truly is. Is a pro at lulling people into a false sense of security. Definitely slouches on purpose to seem less intimidating.

Secretly paid off Luffy's "treasure tab" at Makino's bar. Didn't do it just to be kind to the poor kid but actually because he believed Luffy when he said he'd pay it back in full and did it to annoy Luffy a decade or two down the line. (When Luffy finally goes back to pay Makino and she informs him Shanks already did, Luffy blows a gasket.)

———

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