this is my side blog that i started for writing but it has kinda gone off the rails, currently we're looking at a 50/50 split between fanfiction and memes
what are you looking for?
↳ about me
↳ silly things (different post)
↳ gen headcanons
↳ spotify playlists - music i think one piece characters would listen to
↳ x reader headcanons (multi character)
↳ series
↳ written works/all fanfiction (different post)
↳ tags - i <3 goofy tags
just so you know you can message me, i don't bite i promise
about me
lynn | she/her | in my 20s
music and memes are my two favorite things
a girlie be mentally ill so updates might be inconsistent
currently hyper fixated on one piece but that is always subject to change :/
current fav characters: ace, shanks, and robin
gen headcanons
↳ spotify playlists - music i think one piece characters would listen to
↳ favorite taylor swift songs - this is important work
↳ memes they'd have
↳ chopper's hobby
↳ straw hats' hobbies
↳ wrapping gifts
x reader headcanons
↳ you get them flowers (mostly platonic): zoro, sanji, and robin | nami, ace, shanks | luffy, usopp, chopper, brook
↳ you say "i love you" first: zoro, sanji, robin, ace, shanks
↳ they say "i love you" first: zoro, sanji, robin, nami, ace, shanks
↳ how they'd support you (romantic): sanji, zoro, robin, ace, shanks
↳ how they'd support you (platonic): luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, chopper, robin
↳ where they like to lay their head: sanji, zoro, ace
↳ jealousy: sanji, ace, shanks, nami, zoro, robin
series
↳on the run (ongoing) - shanks's x afab! reader (she/her
↳ playlists (ongoing) - ace x reader modern au
↳ after ever (ongoing) - sylus (lnds) x MC (named)
tags explained bc i like having goofy tags and in case you wanna block em
↳ canon posts - posts i made that are not updates or personal (this includes memes, fanfic and headcanons)
↳ silly shit - the sillier things (like memes and stuff)
↳ x reader - this one's self explanatory tbfh
↳ updates no one asked for - updates, be warned this is a common one that many people use
↳ nurse lynn's rambling again - this is more so like random thoughts/comments on things
↳ op update - i'm still watching one piece so it's just where i'm at in the story
↳ stuckinmyinbox - answering asks or whatever people send me <3
↳ what's in the kitchen - works in progress, basically what i've got cooking
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"It was the great escape, the prison break
The light of freedom on my face"
shanks x f! reader | chapter 1 | read on ao3
wc: 4.2k
For years you had been running one con after another, using your charms and your good looks to con bands of pirates out of their money. It was the only life you knew how to live, the only lifestyle you had held since going out on your own. The rush was always exhilarating as you fled from your victims, that night in Lougetown was just like any other, until you ran into him.
The first time you met Red Haired Shanks, you didn't know who he was and you had no idea of the ways in which he, and his crew, would come to change your life. But could you outrun years of instinct or were you doomed to repeat the same pattern you always did.
important: idk if i made it clear last part but this takes place shortly after Shanks looses his arm, when the crew re-enters the Grand Line so they are all younger than their modern-day counterparts and reader is a few years younger than shanks
also if ur name is molly, pls pretend it isn't x
You had no idea what a stowaway was the first time you felt the great sway of the seas underneath your feet. The first time you became one.
Adrenaline ran wild through your veins your entire way to the Red Port— you were almost free — the only step left was to find a ship. The task of finding a ship to board had seemed simple enough in your mind, but in practice it was harder than you had anticipated. Buying passage occurred to you, but it was too early to give up your position now.
In the low-light of the dead of night you looked for a merchant ship, one without the gaudiness of a celestial dragon nor the insignia of the world government. You chose the first one you found. Quickly and quietly, you hid before the crew boarded and made yourself at home in the belly of the ship. You were going to stay out of sight and only take what was necessary to survive. Relegated to the shadows, you missed the crew hoist a black flag on the masts once the Red Line disappeared from the horizon.
It was only when the ship docked and the crew had left that you found the flag. You stumbled back, in shock or terror, you weren’t sure, but it sent you back to the depths of the ship, where you remained for hours. Eventually, with the crew still gone, you departed the ship. Nearby you found a market and sold off some of the jewels you had taken from your family vault. You used that money to buy yourself some proper clothing and a place to stay for the night.
The next morning, feeling better with a proper bath you entered the town and the start of your new life……only you weren’t sure what to do or where to go. Looking at the port, you saw the flag that had sent you into hiding the day before. The answer felt clear. You returned to the only other place you had ever known.
With a lifetime of practice avoiding prying eyes, you had managed to stay hidden for months, through multiple islands. Each port would be a rinse and repeat of the first stop, always choosing the familiar over the unknown. The routine was comfortable.
Out on the waters, you would take some provisions when your supply ran low. On shore you would restock, constantly left in awe at how far a few measly jewels got you. You would pass the time exploring the ship, careful to never move anything from its place. At one port you had bought yourself a book whose pages quickly wore thin.
Eventually, you learned the voices and personalities of the members of the crew. The deep rich honey voice of the captain. The calm, even, feminine voice of who you thought was the first mate. Your perception of pirates changed as you got snippets of the crew from the places you hid.
You felt safe there, with them, but they didn’t know about you. It would only take one mistake, one mess up to blow your cover and put your safety at risk. That mistake came out on calm waters as the sun was setting one evening.
The weather had been unbearably hot, so you’d tucked yourself away at the highest point you felt comfortable, just to get some fresh(er) air. A gentle breeze had entered through the grated hatch above you, cooling you off. The sail air lulled you off to sleep. Then, a large rat ran across your body, waking you from your nap with a scream. Your hands flew to your mouth, but it was too late. The deck above you had gone still. Footsteps approached and you tried to strategize how to talk your way out of this.
The hatch above you creaked as it opened, you were frozen in place. Sunlight backlit a crouching silhouette, you blinked the figures into view. A man with dark hair, lively eyes, and the most charming smile you had ever seen looked down at you. “Looks like our little stowaway wasn’t a mouser after all.”
"Would you like some dinner, Miss?" A voice snapped you out of your memories and redirected your attention from the hypnotizing waves to reality. You turned to find a tall, rotund man with a beaming smile at your side.
As if on cue, your stomach growled and the man somehow smiled wider. "Come on, let's get some food in ya," the man said, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you off. "My name’s Lucky, or Lucky Roux if you wanna be fancy. I'm the cook on this ship, so let me know about any allergies or restrictions, okay?"
You nodded and let the man lead the way. As you approached the mess hall, sounds of laughter and conversation grew louder and louder. The noise quieted as you made your entrance.
"Oh great! We were just talking about you!" A man with a bandana that read "Yasopp" across his forehead exclaimed, his voice slightly slurred. The man promptly received a smack upside the person sitting next to him; a man with his blond hair in a topknot.
"All good things, of course," the captain clarified, before making room next to him and patting the opened spot. The amber light of the galley made his hair appear more orange and more like a fire. "Come, have a seat, meet the crew."
After a moment's hesitation, you take the seat next to him. Immediately, you are handed a plate with food piled high. A large glass of something with the smell of alcohol was pushed your way. To your relief, the pirates didn't all descend upon you asking questions. Hell, the promised introductions didn't even start right away. Instead, they let you eat your food in peace, returning to their previous conversation, explaining how you had met.
"You shoulda seen how she jumped from the roof! More agile than a tomcat, this one," the redhead grinned over at you. "Maybe that's what we'll call you, Tomcat," he said turning towards you. "Or do you prefer Little Stray?"
"Not a tomcat," you dismissed with a mouthful of food, leaving the question of the other nickname unanswered (you weren't about to admit liking that one). You swallowed and continued, "Besides, isn't that supposed to be your name, captain? Or are you more Captain Bleeding Heart?"
"I like Tomcat more, it matches," the man grinned toothily, for a moment you almost forgot that you were surrounded by pirates.
"If you're gonna flirt go do it somewhere else," one of them also slurred. You felt your face heat up as a blush painted your face and ears. Instead of giving any sort on response, you went back to eating your food.
"That's no way to treat our guest," the captain scolded him before returning to look at you. "Sorry, I thought I have them more house trained than that," he apologized. You snorted and he looked like you'd made his day with that single sound. "For pirates, they seem rather well behaved," you assured the captain.
"I'll take that as a compliment," the man with a bandanna, who you assumed was named Yasopp, responded. "Good, it was supposed to be," you informed him with a smile, picking up more food on your fork and bringing it to your mouth.
"Back to the matter at hand," the redhead said, reclaiming your attention. "Did ya think of something you wanted the crew to call you? I already got Little Stray and I'm not keen on sharing."
You paused for a beat, grateful to still be chewing as you thought of a new alias. Unlike normal, you had yet to think of a new identity. Truthfully, you had been planning on staying with the previous crew at least until you reached the Grand Line, but they had started testing your boundaries and needed to be put in their place, so you took their money and ran. "Molly," you said after a swallow, picking the female counterpart of a tomcat (at least one without kittens).
A man with a long black pony tail, cracked a small smile. It seemed that he knew what you'd done, but kept that knowledge to himself. The red haired one also recognized a lie when he saw it, but he didn't press it.
"Hold on," the man in the bandana said, horror entering his voice. "It sounds like you don't even know each other's names." You laughed at his concern. The redhead lit up with a playful expression.
"Well, we waited for the crew to make any introductions," the captain said, gently elbowing your arm as he spoke. You snorted. "We would've hated for you to feel left out," you joined in.
"That's beside the point!" The man in the Yasopp bandana said. "Do you even know who he is?"
"Nope, but don't worry, he did make sure that I wouldn't murder any of you in your sleep," you assured the man, almost gleefully. Several eyes went wide. The man in the black pony pinched his nose, like he dealt with these kinds of antics all too often. He must be the first mate, you mused.
The one who asked you the question practically threw his head in his hands. "...and you let her get on the ship...Oh, Captain," the man continued as if he didn't hear your response.
"It's not him we're worried about lass," a man with glasses and dragon tattoos told you at the same time. An amused, almost flattered smile graced your face.
"That's sweet," you started, waiting for the man to give you his name. "Building Snake," he said. "That's sweet Building Snake, but I can hold my own. Besides, life's more fun with a bit of mystery," you continued, wiggling your shoulders as if to make a point. The red haired man next to you laughed boisterously.
"You're gonna fit in just fine," the one with the black ponytail muttered, pulling out a cigarette with a sigh, one that was promptly knocked from his hand by the blond one with the top knot. You gave the ponytail man a strange look, you wondered if he knew that you were only seeking passage, but you shook that feeling off.
"But, I'd love to hear the rest of your names if you want to share," you proposed. And so, introductions began.
Beckman, or Beck, the man with the long ponytail was the first mate just as you had suspected.
Lucky, the cook, you had met before and had already decided that you liked him.
Yasopp introduced himself as if his name wasn't written across his forehead — jury was still out on if you liked him.
Hongo was the blond one with the top knot. He was the man who whacked Yasopp earlier and knocked the cigarette from Beck's hand. Apparently he was the doctor too.
Building Snake, or Snake, was apparently the navigator and he had tattoos of dragons covering each of his biceps.
Limejuice was another blond man, but he hid his starkly pale hair underneath a beret. You would remember his name, for it was rather...unique.
Bonk Punch, an imposing man who liked eyeliner, had an even more interesting name. His companion, a monkey named Monster, was cute, in a child-pretending-to-be-a-hardened-adult kind of way.
Howling Gab had a name that just seemed to fit his appearance, although his higher pitched voice did not. Right away you could tell he was a sweet man, almost certainly fitting into the "gentle giant" archetype.
The whole crew was apparently called the Red Haired Pirates, which rang a bell, but you weren't sure which one. Overall the crew seemed very nice. They spent the evening proving you to be correct — mostly. There were some comments about chemistry thrown around, but you brushed them off.
You wouldn't find out the captain's name until the next day.
Waking up mid morning, you found your way back to the galley, praying that they had coffee, a luxury out of the water. The smell promising the dark liquid greeted you as you entered. The cook, Lucky, gestured for you to have your fill and you smiled at him gratefully.
With a mug in hand, you made your way up to the main deck, taking a seat across from Beckman, who had discarded some pages from the World Economic Journal on the table. You picked up one of the discarded sections as the redheaded captain came to join your table.
Opening the paper, several bounty posters fell out, but only one of them caught your eye. A swath of bright red hair a few pages down in the stack, you pulled it from the pile. On it, underneath the large text that said "WANTED" was a picture of the man across from you. He was wearing a straw hat, which was missing from his current attire, but the rest was undeniably him. You hold up the poster for a comparison.
Both men stilled, awaiting your reaction. Beck slowly lowered his paper as if sudden movements would scare you. Shanks had frozen with his own mug of coffee inches from his lips. They were waiting for the other shoe to drop, only it never did. You didn't panic, instead you did quite the opposite. Your eyes flitted back and forth between the man and the poster, there was no denying that they were the same. You took a small sip of coffee and the men started to relax.
"Red Haired Shanks," you read, looking the man in the eyes. The name felt new but familiar on your tongue. "It fits you," you told him, taking another sip of your drink. You didn't see the way his cheeks tinted red at the comment, because you looked back at the poster and found the number on his head.
1.04 BILLION BERRIES.
Both men tensed once more when your eyes bugged out, they knew what you had just seen. Rather unexpectedly you relaxed — truly relaxed, not just as a facade — almost instantly and the men at the table breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Shanks," you said, trying out the name once more. "Tomcat's off the menu I fear, that's a much better name."
Neither Shanks nor Beckman were doing a good job hiding how shocked they were by your indifference to the bounty.
"Has anyone ever told you you photograph well?" you questioned Shanks in earnest.
The redhead across from you stammered, trying and failing to get out an answer.
"Does he act like this often?" You questioned Beck, who appeared to be enjoying his captain's reaction more than you were.
"Never," he replied. Shanks looked at his first mate like he'd been betrayed. Beckman, willing to stoke the flames more, continued. "Pretty women don't typically have him tripping over his words like that."
"Hmmm, that does wonders for my confidence," you hummed, pausing to look Shanks up and down, "To make a man like that act like this." You licked your lips.
"Can't say I blame ya," Beckman said, picking up his paper and you followed in suit.
Nothing like that morning happened again, or at least not for a few more days.
After four days at sea and four days of feeling like you weren't getting any closer to the Grand Line, you confronted Shanks. You found the man at the helm with Building Snake, right where you wanted him to be.
"I've got a question," you said, approaching the men with a clementine in hand. "Ahh, Little Stray. Was wondering when you'd find me," Shanks said with a warm smile, clearly not minding you interrupting the conversation he was having with his navigator.
"You make it sound like I've been avoiding you, or worse—you've been avoiding me," you said, tossing the fruit in the air. "Nonsense," Shanks dismissed, "Ask away."
"Is this ship like...extra slow or something?" You questioned, acting innocent and peeling your fruit. Shanks's smile dropped and he looked offended, so did Snake. "No," Shanks said with a furrowed brow and a slight edge. Men never did like it when you insulted their ship, but you never did like being led astray.
"Huh," you said sitting down on a nearby crate, removing the last of the peel. "Then why has it been four days with no sight of Reverse Mountain?" You popped a slice of the clementine into your mouth, waiting an answer.
"Ah," Shanks said with clarity. The tension the two men had held had dropped and Shanks's easy smile had returned to his face. "We've been taking the scenic route. Besides, look straight ahead."
You followed his advice and in the distance was the imposing, and rather fast approaching, Reverse mountain. The winds had picked up, like even they were insulted at your dig on the ship. Shanks grinned like a madman, "Better hold on tight, it looks like we're in for a ride."
Shanks was not wrong. Soon enough, you were in the throes of a storm, and not just any storm, but a storm at the mouth of reverse mountain. You were far from a landlubber, having braved the seas many times before, but this kind of turbulence was unlike anything you had seen before.
Rain came in never ending sheets and the waves themselves were violent as if the sea wanted you off of her back. Wind howled all around you as the band of pirates shouted to each other, they seemed to move in sync in ways that you hadn't often seen. Not since your first (and only) crew... You shook your head to get rid of the memories and searched for a place to bunker down in.
You weren't fast enough.
A wave from port side came and swept you off your feet. With nothing nearby to grab onto, you were fighting the waves and gravity in your effort to stand up. Almost standing, a harsh gale came and brought along another wave. You were sent toward the railing, which rather inconveniently, was missing a baluster, making it easy for you to slip out.
Shanks heard your cry before he saw anything. Instinct worked faster than mind and he dropped the rigging he was working on. With the practice of a lifetime on sea, he crossed the sloped ship dropping to a slide to grab you. His arm wrapped around your midsection and he reached his left arm out to realize that it wasn't there.
"Oh shit," he said. You heard the edge of panic in his voice and recognized the same thing he did. You wanted to laugh, but it was hardly the time. Your nails clawed at the deck, grasping for purchase on something, anything. A large part of you was hoping Shanks would let you go and save himself, but he didn't. If you were going down, he was going down with you.
Adrenaline kicked into overdrive. It was do or die time. Another wave pushed the two of you to the edge of the ship and by some miracle, you caught the railing by the tips of your fingers. Your grip held firm as you fought to stay tethered to the only sense of safety nearby.
Shanks was saying something behind you, but your ears were filled with water and you failed to hear it properly. A sudden upwards jolt, probably from him kicking off of something, gave you what you needed to secure both hands on the ship. With his help you managed to pull your bodies up on deck. That feat alone took over half your energy. A wave came crashed into the starboard side and leveled out the ship while pushing you to its center.
Shanks, who had somehow gotten up, grabbed you by your bicep and pulled you to your feet. The ship shifted once again and you found yourself stumbling into his chest, your hand reaching out just in time to stop you from breaking your nose.
"Come on," he said. The entrances to the lower decks were too far to guarantee there wouldn't be a repeat of what had just happened, but there were several crates secured firmly on the deck by the stairs, a perfect alcove for some sense of shelter. Shanks pulled you along to the small space. At least you didn't feel at risk of sliding off the ship and disappearing into the dark waters entirely.
"Are you okay?" Shanks shouted, water dripping down every surface so much so that he had to spit out what his nose had brought to his mouth. "Peachy," you shouted back in a similar manner.
The ship jolted again, this time Shanks was the one sent into you. He caught himself on the staircase behind you right before your heads could collide. The eye contact you made spoke volumes. He stayed there longer than he needed to.
Outside of the little alcove, the crew moved, continuing to deal with the storm along with the tumultuous waters of Reverse Mountain, but the two of you stayed in your own world, eyes locked.
The ship moved sharply once more. Shanks's elbow bent from the movement and his mouth collided with yours. Unable to do anything else, at the last moment you had tilted your head so at least your noses didn't smash together. Still, your lips touched. Accidental, sure but your heart still skipped a beat.
The rain died out and soon the only challenge at hand was just the mountain itself. Shanks took a step back from you. Both of you tried to pretend what had just happened had no effect on you.
Shanks used his already soaking wet shirt to try and dry his face, while you opted to physically push the water off. After some coughing, when your breathing became even enough, you asked him the question in the back of your mind the whole time.
"Why didn't you just let go? I mean when you realized you couldn't hold me and save yourself," you questioned, genuinely concerned for his sense of self-preservation. He just grinned at you.
"I promised you safe passage. It would be rather unbecoming of me if I were to let you drown," Shanks responded. "You could have died," you reminded him. "We would've figured something out," he shrugged. "You sound so confident, I almost believe you," you told him. He looked at you with a gaze that spoke volumes, only this time in a language you didn't understand. "One thing you ought to learn is that you should never doubt me," Shanks said with a boyish grin.
"In my experience, you should doubt every man," you grumbled, doing your best to wring your hair out. Shanks did not like the other experiences you spoke of.
"Maybe I'm not like other men," he said.
"I guess not," you confirmed, unable to deny that something between you two had shifted.
"Why don't ya go dry off and get changed, it'll be smooth sailing from here," Shanks said.
"We literally sailing up a mountain to plunge down the other side," you said, almost concerned for him.
“Nothing we haven't done before. Don't worry Little Stray. Didn't I say not to doubt me?"
You gave no comment nor rebuttal as you left for your temporary cabin.
Your entry into the Grand Line had been successful, now, all that was left was to pick a course. It wasn't until the log posse had been set that it was realized your next two islands were largely uninhabited and no place to leave you behind. So, your journey with the Red Hair Pirates continued. You didn't mind the detours and that was the scary part.
As the days passed you found yourself enjoying life upon the Red Force. After finding out that the meandering journey to the Line was to evade the marines, you found yourself more open to trusting them. The crew helped their cause along as well, always including and joking around with you.
Then there was Shanks. Ever since the storm he had started to look at you different in a way you couldn't explain. You weren't sure you were innocent of that yourself. There was no denying he was an attractive man, but you had been down that road before once and weren't eager to return. Yet, you were still drawn to him, often nearby because that was what felt right.
Night would fall and the men would collect in the galley, oftentimes before making their way to the top decks. There, the festivities would begin. You would be hard pressed to recall a time where you consistently had this much fun.
When the band of pirates loudly cheered at cheap card tricks and acrobatic displays, or when they fought for who you got to sit by during at dinner, you could almost trick yourself into believing that you belonged. That was dangerous. From then on you followed a new rule: Do not get attached, but that was always easier said than done.
a/n: yipee another one done!!!
now ik i said i had this mostly planned out and written (and i do), but i just looked at chapter three and it just said "GIRL WRITE THIS" so uhhh it might be a bit 😭
Written as a part of @grandline-net's August writing challenge with the theme of fake dating.
Your eyes lingered at the bottom of the blue dress where it twirled above sheer stockings before your gaze carried higher to the tray of drinks not for your table. The waitress saw you looking and winked and you smiled pleasantly, before you turned back to your crew.
“I can see the appeal,” you acknowledged. “She’s pretty.”
“Got wandering eyes?” Shanks asked with a smile that betrayed exactly where he had been looking too.
You leaned back on the fading leather of the booth and smirked over the wobbling table at him, one leg kicked up to rest on your knee. “Just curious about what’s caught your attention,” you commented. “Need to understand if it’s a threat or a poor woman who doesn’t even know you exist.”
He looked mildly offended at your assessment. “She smiled right at me.”
“Through you,” you corrected. “She’s working. Can’t you choose somebody easier for the night? I’m off of my usual duties.”
He grinned. “Have a little faith in me. I can manage one conversation on my own.”
“Please use the help,” Beckman said beside you. “It’s considerably less embarrassing for the rest of us. Requires less alcohol too.”
“You’re not going to like my idea for this one then,” you warned him.
He sighed and looked toward the exit, contemplating if he needed another smoke despite having walked in less than a minute ago.
“There’s a spare booth in the corner,” Hongo said. “We can move there and leave these two to scheme.”
You rolled your eyes at them before you turned to your captain. “I think we need to use the pity card.”
Shanks gestured to his missing arm. “I try it but most of them don’t bite.”
“Not the arm,” you said. “That’s way too obvious. Lucky, swap places with me?”
You dropped down next to Shanks and immediately shuffled closer so you were sitting again to him. You draped his arm purposefully over your shoulder and adjusted yourself a few times to make sure it looked comfortable. Shanks’ grin only grew wider as you did so. He was very malleable which made this much easier.
Beckman raised an eyebrow at you. “And this is supposed to help?”
“It will,” you said. “Alright, we’re dating.”
“Okay,” Shanks said immediately and he squeezed you against him.
“No,” you protested. “You’re miserable in this relationship. I’m an absolute bitch and I’m going to break up with you by the end of the night. Then you can go and console yourself somewhere warm.”
Shanks moved his arm from your shoulders to grab his drink. “No way that’s going to work.”
“Trust me. She’s only going to be interested in a one-night thing and rebound sex is perfect for that. And she’ll feel bad for you.”
“This is ridiculous,” Beckman informed you.
“It’ll work. Can you order me a drink, captain?”
Shanks tilted his head to the side. “Would you really call me that if we were together? It feels a little formal.”
“We’re not fake dating yet. Be patient.”
“If this works, I’ll pay for a round,” Limejuice said with a small, disbelieving chuckle.
“Two for me,” you said. “Seeing as it’s my idea.”
“Deal.”
She brought over the first round with a pleasant, customer-perfected smile. If she even noticed Shanks more than a passing glance, it was impressive. But the second she put a drink in front of you, you made a show of wrinkling your nose.
“Are you serious?” you asked him, voice sharper than it had ever been toward your captain. “Why did you buy me this? This is my usual. I didn’t want my usual.”
Shanks almost immediately ruined it by smiling as though it was a game. He managed to wrangle the expression after a minute. “I’m sorry?”
You pushed the drink away from you and rolled your eyes. “I wanted to try something new. How do you even know what types of drinks I like anyway? That’s so fucking creepy.”
The woman was giving you a very confused look. She glanced to the arm on your shoulders and seemed to be debating whether to take the drink back or leave the situation to play itself out. You tried not to look at her but it was difficult considering your crew had awful poker faces.
Yasopp brought his hand up to cover his mouth, barely managing to conceal his laughter with a cough.
“Okay, okay,” Shanks said as though he meant to soothe an irritable animal. He did not sound even vaguely as affronted as you needed him too. “Why don’t you choose something else and I’ll get it for you.”
You turned your glare on him. “I don’t want anything else. My night has already been ruined.” You shrugged his arm off and had to fight not to return his very easy, very unoffended smile. “Why do you always do this? Try and make up for your mistakes with gifts and crap I don’t want?”
Hongo snorted and you elbowed him. That made him laugh harder.
It was too early in the evening to storm off though so you crossed your arms and settled for a sulk against the booth. Shanks asked for another drink and the woman’s expression turned incredibly sympathetic as she hurried off.
You waited until she was far enough away before you beamed proudly.
“Working already,” you said.
You picked up the drink he’d ordered for you and glanced over to make sure she wasn’t looking before you drank. He knew your usual order. It was exactly what you had wanted and you’d been silently hoping she wouldn’t take it back.
“You’re awfully good at this,” Yasopp commented.
“You’re all terrible,” you huffed. You looked toward Shanks. “You need to stop smiling like this is funny. You’re trying to get pity, not convince her you’re a masochist.”
“But it is funny,” he argued. “I didn’t know you could be so rude.”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s the whole point of you being my soon-to-be ex. Which is going to be really hard to commit to if you’re all laughing.”
“She hasn’t been rude once,” Beckman commented. “Both the things she said were compliments.”
“I know. If I was making him sound bad, she wouldn’t be interested. You’ll see.”
“There’s more of this?”
You nodded sincerely. “Of course there’s more to it. She’s not going to want to be with him if she thinks he’s cheating. So, I need to storm out of here and he needs to go mope. But I’m also not returning to the ship alone so…”
“So this is a whole night thing?” Lucky Roux asked.
“Exactly.”
“Brilliant,” Shanks agreed and downed his drink.
He really was the weakest link in this performance. You could see it.
The waitress seemed almost nervous to place the drink in front of you when she returned and you sighed very dramatically but took it.
“Men,” you muttered under your breath.
She gave you the closest thing she could get to a sympathetic smile while also appearing slightly unnerved by you.
Yasopp took full advantage of the situation. He leaned across and took your favoured drink from in front of you while Limejuice spoke to the waitress. Shanks removed it from him before he could drink it, moving it back in front of you without even looking.
“This is blatant favouritism,” Yasopp said. “She said she didn’t want it and she has a new one.”
“She might change her mind,” Shanks offered.
You rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to always take my side with everything. It’s embarrassing. I’m an adult.”
“See,” Yasopp said.
You still moved the drink closer to you, shooting a rude gesture toward him. Shanks smiled at you and you narrowed your eyes in response.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“All warm and nice. It annoys me.”
“It’s out of love.”
You almost facepalmed. That was the opposite of what you needed him to say. The mistreated boyfriend thing was already failing. Impressive because you knew he could really make the wet, pathetic man look work when he wanted to.
It just seemed tonight his acting skills had disappeared.
Beckman sighed deeply on the other side of the table as the waitress left. “I actually think this might be worse than the usual attempts.”
“It’s way worse,” Limejuice agreed but he looked one comment away from laughing.
“Because our captain is making this very hard,” you pointed out.
“I thought I was meant to be dating you,” Shanks said and his arm settled around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Nobody’s going to buy it if you’re complaining the whole time. There has to be some affection in there too.”
“No,” you said. “That’s literally the point.”
“You’re not trying to convince the room at large,” Hongo pointed out.
“Thankfully,” Beckman muttered.
Yasopp leaned across the table toward you. “What are you thinking for the big breakup?” he asked. “Screaming match?”
You thought about it for a second before you looked up to Shanks. “Why do you think we would break up? I need something believable but that still paints you in a good light.”
“You’ll get one or the other,” Limejuice told you.
Shanks drummed his fingers against your shoulder as he thought about it. You picked up your original drink and looked around the tavern. Nobody here was interesting enough that you could lean into the ‘fine, I’ll go find somebody else’ play. Not that you really wanted to either way.
“Can’t think of anything,” he said. “Ah well. Nothing to it. Guess you’re stuck here.”
Not helpful. You looked up to him and he smiled as though he wasn’t thwarting your entire plan. This is why you had stopped helping him get laid ages ago. He always sabotaged it.
“I’ll figure something out,” you said. “Then I’ll storm off and meet you guys back on the Red Force.”
“You shouldn’t be walking this area by yourself,” Shanks mentioned. “Couple of people have been glancing in this direction. Beck can take you back.”
“I have a weapon.”
“Still. Just to be safe.”
“We’ll all go back together,” Beckman said. “You can stay if this ridiculous plan works out but we’re leaving early tomorrow and I’m not collecting everyone in the morning.”
“If somebody gets left behind, it’s probably going to be Yasopp,” you said.
“What? Why me?!”
You picked up the drink he’d tried to steal from you and took a very pointed sip from it. “Just a hunch.”
While he huffed about that, you settled into the leather booth, body slotting easily against Shanks’ side. It was far more comfortable than it should have been. And if you focused, you could easily ignore the way the proximity made your heart misfire.
There was no lie easy enough to swallow surrounding the true reason. So, you didn’t bother to try.
“I was left behind once,” Shanks mentioned. “Hardly the worst thing.”
“Most peaceful hours of my life,” Beckman said.
“And here I thought that would be before you met us,” you mentioned.
“I’ve known you lot for long enough that I’ve forgotten what it was like before then.”
“Boring,” Shanks volunteered.
You chuckled and looked toward the waitress. She should be bringing over whatever Limejuice had asked for soon but you’d entirely failed to think of any further complaints surrounding Shanks at the moment.
So you sat up.
You reached for his hair to try and pull some forward. He leaned closer to you to allow you to mess with the locks although granted, they were rarely perfectly tamed anyway.
“What are we doing now?” he asked. “Are you trying to imply we found somewhere quiet?”
You pushed his shoulder lightly in reprimand. “No. I’m trying to imitate that pathetic look you get sometimes when you’re really drunk.”
“Pathetic?” he repeated.
You met his eyes and for a second, the fingers threading through his hair paused before you got back onto task. “You look really sad,” you explained. “And seeing as you plan on ruining my idea by smiling constantly, I need to use everything in my arsenal.”
“Can’t fault me for it,” he said. “But come on, I don’t have a sad drunk look.”
Confirmations came from everybody at the exact same time which succeeded in making Shanks laugh, tipping his head away from you. You should have complained about your work but it was easier to join in. There was no way you could successfully replicate it without buying him half of the bar.
And after that he probably wouldn’t go home with her. You’d have to listen to him mumbling when he inevitably passed out on your chest. Which would be a massive failure.
She arrived not long after and you pushed Shanks’ arm off your shoulders with a grumble about him being far too warm.
This plan was starting to annoy you a bit much.
The constant shifts between comfortable warmth and the air of the tavern were beginning to get under your skin. But you still didn’t have an idea for the breakup which meant you had to persist through it.
And persist you did, if unhappily so.
Right until Beckman got everyone to pay.
You didn’t stand immediately. “The rest of you can go ahead,” you said. “Just got to finish the whole act.”
Shanks grinned at you. “I still don’t know if this will work.”
“Trust me, it will,” you promised as the woman came over to collect the beri.
She kept glancing toward him, attention hovering briefly on you as she did so. You rolled your eyes and tried to give her a mildly disgruntled look while the others filed from the booth and began to make their way toward the exit.
Everybody had been pretty well behaved that evening and you couldn’t help but feel it was at least partially because they all wanted to see how this would end up going.
“This was the worst night ever,” you complained, trying to look like you didn’t want to follow the rest of the crew home. “I can’t believe you dragged me out here with your stupid smile and pretty words. I’m so tired of having to do this all the time.”
Shanks still wasn’t helping. The messy hair had been a fatal error on your part. Your heart was stuck as he looked at you through the strands.
“I’m sorry,” he said and he still sounded far too affectionate to play the role of a man being badgered by his partner for nothing. “I’ll make it up to you with a better night out.”
“No,” you insisted. “I don’t want another night. I’m tired of you constantly trying to look after me. Just let me decide when I want to do something.”
That sounded awkward. You could hear it sounded wrong.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem the other woman had felt the same way. She kept giving him sympathetic, pitying looks as though she had just noticed your captain was unfairly handsome. Took her long enough.
You stood from the table and straightened your clothes. Shanks moved as though to join you and you pointed at him.
“Don’t follow me,” you said. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”
It hurt a little more than you had thought it would. It shouldn’t have and yet it stung at your chest. You tried to ignore it.
His smile faltered for barely a second before returning, easier and brighter than before. If you had not been staring directly at him, you might have missed it.
“Would you stop?” you asked.
“Stop what?”
“I just said we shouldn’t see each other anymore and you’re grinning like you won a prize. Do I really mean so little to you?”
That didn’t sound too flattering on his side of things. But he opened his mouth to respond and you already knew he was about to make it so much worse. You spun on your heel and marched from the tavern without waiting.
The rest of the crew stood together at the corner of the street and by the time you joined, you knew your expression was annoyed.
Although whether you were annoyed about him ruining the plan or about having to leave in general, you couldn’t really tell. And you didn’t care to think about it for much longer.
“Is she interested?” Beckman asked.
You nodded, trying hard enough to look casual that you probably achieved the opposite. “She is. I’m sure we’ll see him tomorrow.”
“Joyful.”
“Are you going to be in a mood for the rest of the night then?” Yasopp asked. “Like you always are when he goes home with a woman?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smiled far too suspiciously and you were halfway through your answering rebuttal when Beckman looked past your shoulder. “Guess not.”
“What?”
You looked back to find Shanks stepping through the entrance of the tavern, very much alone. His hair was still mussed from your attempts at making him look sadder but his smile was very relaxed. He strolled over lazily like he had nowhere else to be and you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Don’t tell me I did all of that and you still managed to mess it up,” you complained as he got closer.
He looked far too pleased with himself. “Tried my hardest.”
Yasopp laughed. “I told you it wouldn’t work. Do you know what probably ruined it? That whole expression you shot at her toward the end. It was basically a threat.”
“What are you talking about?” you countered. “That’s not the expression I was going for. I more wanted a ‘don’t waste your time’ look.”
Lucky Roux snorted. “You missed that by a mile.”
Oops. You hadn’t meant to be that transparent about it. You shrugged. “Whatever. Even if she thought that, it’s not going to change the whole breakup and sad look I gave you. How did you possibly mess that part up?”
Shanks wrapped his arm around your shoulder. The familiar warmth relaxed some of your stress even though it shouldn’t have.
“Don’t worry, your plan worked perfectly. I just declined.”
“You did what?” you complained. “I embarrassed myself the whole evening and you just said no?”
“Wasn’t feeling it.”
You groaned and tipped your head to the side so it was resting against him. “I’m never committing this hard to a plan for you again.”
“If only I could believe that,” Beckman sighed.
It turned out to be a lie within the first week when you realised Shanks and you made very good exes. And being in a fake relationship with him could be more beneficial than you thought.
Somebody was being unnecessarily persistent when it came to you?
Well, it was impressive how quickly they disappeared when you spoke about your ex-boyfriend who just so happened to be an emperor. All their interest gone the moment you looked over to Shanks and smiled and he returned the grin.
He didn’t even need to move from wherever he was. He’d just meet your eyes and that would be enough to chase whatever annoyance was bothering you.
So you had an easy way out of situations without a fight.
And it did work unfortunately well for its original purpose too.
Something you learned when you wound up in a market. One considerably nicer than the ones your crew more often frequented.
Stalls lined the edges of the square, stocked with foods and curiosities. The late afternoon warmth still clung to the stone beneath your boots, softened by the occasional breeze carrying spice, sugar and something frying in oil through the crowd. People wandered between merchants without any particular urgency, voices folding easily beneath the gentle music drifting from somewhere you couldn’t quite place.
It was the sort of market that encouraged lingering. Unfortunately, your crew had never needed much encouragement.
“Thank you,” you said to the merchant as she finished writing down your drink orders and stepped away to prepare them.
You moved to Yasopp, Hongo, and Lucky Roux and nodded. “There. That’s my card debt cleared,” you said. “But I’m not carrying everything back. The last time that ended with my clothing soaked through.”
“Don’t look now, but I think somebody’s interested in your ‘ex’,” Yasopp mentioned, his voice loud enough to carry through the rattle of ice in the shaker behind you.
You frowned and looked over his shoulder to find a group of women who were looking toward the table you’d left Shanks and Beckman at. Their attention was undeniable.
And the moment they heard Yasopp speak, they looked curiously toward you.
One of the women waved apologetically. “Sorry, you’re part of the Red Hair Pirates, right?”
They were very much Shanks’ type. Beautiful enough that he didn’t have to flounder for compliments and clearly intrigued by the concept of pirates in general. One of them was even sneaking glances toward Hongo.
“Guilty as charged,” Yasopp said.
“Don’t bother with these three,” you said. “They’re not worth the time.”
The women giggled to themselves as your crew gave you insulted looks. Served them right for beating you at cards the night before.
“That’s because you have very specific taste,” Hongo commented.
“Red hair only?” Yasopp asked.
You shook your head. Of course this turned into another conversation about that. But before you could offer your denial, one of the women put the two comments together and looked toward Shanks before looking back at you.
“Wait, your ex is Red Hair Shanks?”
You were going to kill Yasopp.
It was the perfect opportunity to prove once again how easily the upset ex game would work. And they were the type that Shanks would never turn down.
So you nodded and stepped away from the rest of your crew toward the group of women. They made space for you in their circle without asking.
“Unfortunately,” you said.
There was little need to fake the annoyance from you. Something about the situation was irritating enough to creep under your skin. They didn’t look like they were meaning anything by their interest.
That made it worse.
“Why are you no longer together?” the blonde asked.
“Probably because he’s a pirate,” another offered. “I can’t imagine any of them are loyal. No offense.”
You smiled, a little placated by their genuine friendliness. “None taken. But I wish it was that easy. He’s overbearingly loyal.”
“Really?”
“Annoyingly so. Every day, it’s a constant barrage of questions on if you’re okay, what you’re going to be doing, if you need any help. It’s basically nagging at that point. And when you’re trying to talk to somebody else, he’s staring at you constantly.”
“Like he’s doing right now?” one of the women asked.
You looked over your shoulder to find Shanks’ gaze was indeed locked on you. He nodded toward the seat next to him and you gestured toward the group you were with.
“See.”
They all looked appropriately interested by your acknowledgement. A few waved at him in greeting and you didn’t even need to try to look jaded.
“It was one of the reasons we broke up,” you said. “He was just too clingy.”
Behind you, you heard Hongo laugh. You wondered if you could throw something over your shoulder and still hit them. Weren’t these three meant to be joining the rest of the crew?
“I have to admit, I wouldn’t complain if a man who looked like that wanted to be near me all the time,” the blonde said although upon meeting your eyes, she hurried to correct herself, “but I do understand it can get a bit much.”
“That’s another problem,” you said. “He’s far too handsome and he knows it. Uses those good looks to get whatever he wants.”
“Now that one I can see.”
An arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Okay, we could stand here for hours and listen to you ‘complain’ about Shanks,” Yasopp said, “but the ice in your drink is melting. Come on.”
You shrugged him off immediately and took your drink, nodding to the women. They waved you goodbye and you gave your crew a warning look. They only made it a few steps before they all started laughing.
Shanks moved the chair next to him out as you approached and you purposefully sat across from him. His hand stayed on the back of the empty chair for a second before he let it go. He did not comment on your choice.
“We’re exes again,” you told him.
“Oh? What have we broken up from this time?”
“You’re too good looking apparently,” Yasopp chuckled.
You answered that by driving your boot into his ankle as he sat down. He yelped and shuffled away from you but you’d got the hit off. Good. You’d worked out that two drinks in was about when Yasopp stopped bothering to dodge.
“That doesn’t seem like a reason to break up,” Shanks mentioned.
“Entire group over there’s interested in you,” you said. “You have your pick if you want. What else was there to say? You always have sand on your cloak?”
“Would be a more believable reason,” Limejuice commented.
You ignored them because your plan worked.
Mostly.
Shanks stayed at the table and never ventured far enough from the crew for any of the women to even speak to him. But still, their attention didn’t move from him until the market had already begun to close.
Which was a victory that you didn’t care to think about.
Not until the cover came up again during a celebration some weeks later.
It was one of your favourite types of evenings.
The music wasn’t too loud, there were just enough people for it to feel lively, and the crew had arrived on the back of a successful raid against a passing Marine vessel. You had money for good drinks and adrenaline still shifting pleasantly through your veins.
The tavern itself wasn’t anything special. The floorboards stuck beneath your boots in places, the tables were scarred from years of spilled drinks and worse decisions, and you doubted there was another drinking hole anywhere nearby. As the evening dragged on, more people squeezed inside until chairs became valuable and seating turned into a suggestion for anybody who had not arrived early enough.
Shanks and Beckman had a table to themselves but you purposefully found your way closer to the rest of the crew.
Your heart had been struggling a bit too much lately. It would be good to take a break from the efforts.
And unfortunately for Shanks, his company alone required a certain effort to act normal with.
“Captain’s looking for you,” Yasopp said halfway through your conversation with Hongo. “He’s giving you that look again.”
You turned your head to find him. Shanks hadn’t moved from his table but now there was a third person with them. A woman. You couldn’t see much from this distance but she looked sweet enough to be his style.
He met your gaze and his eyes cut toward her quickly. A plea of some sort.
She looked interested enough without your help. You smiled and turned back to the rest of the crew.
“He has that,” you said. “He’s picked up women in weirder places.”
“I think he wants your help with getting rid of her actually,” Limejuice mentioned.
“Oh, does he? Heartbreaking.” You shrugged. “What would I do about that? I think he’s more than able to come up with an excuse.”
“You can play the crazy ex role again,” Yasopp said with a chuckle. “Go over there and scare her off by telling her how amazing he is and how deeply in love with him you are.”
You hit his shoulder, harder than you should have but not enough that you felt bad about it despite how he jumped.
“Shut up. That’s not what I do.”
“No, that’s exactly what you do,” Limejuice said and stepped out of your range. “It’s basically a love confession every time. He’s so sweet and so nice and handsome.” He pitched his voice higher in imitation.
“Boosts his ego something ridiculous,” Hongo commented.
You crossed your arms and glared at your crew. “I hope you all know that the crazy ex thing is meant to help him pick up women. I can’t exactly go out there and tell them…”
You trailed off.
“Struggling to think of an insult there?” Yasopp taunted. “How about you tell him that his voice is too soothing again? And it puts you to sleep. That one was the sharpest jab I’ve ever heard in all my years on the sea.”
“He’ll never recover from being told he’s too handsome and it pisses her off.”
You rolled your eyes. They were being ridiculous. Was it that hard to realise you were trying to increase his chances of going home with women? Not give them reasons not to?
“Fine,” you said. “If you want me to be a crazier ex, I can be a crazier ex.”
“Just remember to tell him how great of a lover he is,” Limejuice called after you.
You muttered curses at all of them, shoved your drink into Hongo’s chest and turned on your heel. This situation would actually call for something more insulting. Because you were going to try and convince this woman he wasn’t worth the effort so you’d need…
You met Shanks’ eyes and he smiled in appreciation for your path over. Which immediately knocked half of the ideas out of your mind.
Great.
It wasn’t easy to stay annoyed even with the other woman at his table. Beckman stood at your approach and walked away, clearly not interested in staying for this.
You took his seat immediately.
The poor woman across from you frowned when you sat down, clearly not having expected your sudden arrival. You tried to remember that you weren’t actually annoyed at her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by flirting with a pirate captain.
So you stopped looking at her and instead looked at Shanks. You didn’t say anything, just raised your eyebrow.
“Hello, love,” he said, far too quick to settle into this game.
The word landed warmer than it had any right to. You ignored that too.
You crossed your arms. “I hope you have an explanation ready.”
The annoyance that bled into your voice surprised even you. He also hadn’t expected it and you saw interest flash over his expression for a second. You didn’t want to think about why you were so irritated.
So, you blamed Yasopp and called it the end.
The woman at the table looked between you and Shanks. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Is this very important? We were talking.”
“By all means, continue,” you said, trying to wrestle your tone into something more controlled and failing. “It seems that a charming smile is enough of an answer.”
Shanks’ smirk only grew wider and you realised bitterly that Yasopp might have had a point. You needed something considerably ruder than that if you were trying to scare somebody off but your thoughts struggled to grab anything.
“I’m not trying to answer any questions,” he said innocently. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join us.”
You looked toward the other woman and chose to ignore him. “Look, if I can give you one hint,” you said. “You don’t want to get involved with this.”
She blinked at you in confusion before she glanced toward Shanks again. “What do you mean…? Are you two…?”
You rolled your eyes. “Once. Worst choice I’ve ever made.”
Part of you didn’t know what to expect and you were hoping for somebody more focused on him that would let you just lean into the jealousy side. Instead, she lowered her voice as though Shanks wasn’t there.
“What do you mean?”
Shit. Now you had to think of actual reasons.
Which you had none of.
“You know how pirates are,” you said, hedging as close as you could toward safety. “None of them are worth the effort. They’ve only got their good looks and confidence. There’s almost nothing else there.”
She hummed. “For one night, do you need much more?”
You hated this much more than you cared to say. Because she had a point. A good point. And Shanks could definitely hear this conversation even if he was pretending to look elsewhere and let the women talk it out.
“Maybe not but... he’s irritating.”
“I’m sure I can survive that.”
“Extremely irritating.”
She stared at you as though genuinely confused and you had to consider that that wasn’t really a reason not to sleep with your captain.
You had to bite your tongue before something else slipped free. Did you really struggle this badly to insult him? Even when you specifically were meant to be doing that? It was Shanks. There were like a thousand things you should be able to see as flaws.
Like the fact he… the way he…
You turned away from the woman to glare at Shanks instead. “You’re so annoying.”
He startled at the genuine bite to your tone. “What?”
You stood up from the table and left. A genuinely concerned voice called your name from the direction of the rest of the crew but you ignored them too.
This was such a stupid problem to have. A ridiculous problem caused by a ridiculous man who even managed to be a good fake ex as well as everything else. Who even did that?
The Red Force waited for you at the harbour, dark and familiar against the water. She almost seemed judgemental as you approached and you paused long enough to glare up at her hull. She had no room to judge you for anything when she had brought the insufferable man to your doorstep in the first place.
Nobody else was aboard. Nobody had bothered staying behind to watch her tonight. In a town like this, Shanks’ reputation did most of the work.
The quiet was welcome after the tavern. You dropped into your favourite hammock in the dining hall and stared through the windows. The ship rocked gently beneath you, water thumping steadily against the hull. You closed your eyes and just listened. Listened to the groan of the boards above you and the cries of the gulls beyond and the creak of the door as it opened.
“I’m not talking to you.”
“On my own ship?”
You opened one eye to glare at him. “I can go and sulk elsewhere if you prefer but you have a party to get to.”
Shanks wasn’t smiling anymore. His expression had gone quieter as he approached, thoughtful enough that some of your irritation lost its footing.
“So,” he said. “That last one felt real.”
“It was,” you said. “You are annoying. I don’t think this is a big revelation.”
He tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. “It’s not. You’re hardly the first person to tell me that either but that was more personal than usual. Almost sounded like you had another reason behind it.”
“The others were getting under my skin,” you admitted. “Probably made me sound more on edge than I meant to.”
“They said the same thing when I asked.”
“Mm. Why did you need me to get rid of that woman anyway?” you asked, mind making your tongue a little looser than it should have been. “You’ve never struggled to get rid of them on your own before.”
He chuckled softly. “It was a bit of an excuse.”
“For what?”
“You looked annoyed,” he said. “Thought you might like to do something fun.”
You had been annoyed. You’d been annoyed because your silly little attempt at being his wingman shouldn’t have revealed anything near the level it had. Not to everybody else on the crew.
“Also, I think that’s the first real insult you’ve given me,” he said.
“Bullshit.”
“No, it definitely is.”
“I’ve called you irritating too.”
“Annoying and irritating mean the same thing,” he said. “So, I’m counting them both as one. It’s impressive considering we’re meant to have a whole breakup history.”
You hated how observational he was sometimes. Despised it with your very core. He was meant to be relaxing and enjoying the attention and not noticing how few of your complaints were true.
“We do have a whole breakup history,” you muttered. “We’ve broken up three times now from our fake relationship.”
“And yet you still can’t think of one actual problem?”
“Maybe you should consider getting more flaws then,” you challenged. “Maybe then it would be easier to find reasons why somebody shouldn’t date you.”
“I have plenty. Beck probably has a list somewhere.”
“Actual, usual flaws,” you complained. “Being a bad actor when it comes to our fake breakups isn’t one I can use.”
He laughed and leaned back in the chair. “I’m not trying too hard. Mostly because I don’t like the idea as a whole. Hard to commit to something like that.”
He didn’t enjoy it? You sat up properly now, swinging both your legs out of the hammock so you could stare at him. There was sand on his cloak and your eyes lingered on it for a second before you could focus again. On his hair falling across his face and the easy grin that somehow dismantled your entire defence.
“If you don’t like it, why have you let me do it three times now?” you asked.
“Oh, I enjoyed the fake dating part of it,” he said. “So I figured I could put up with the fake breakup part if it meant I got more of the rest.”
“The breakup was the point,” you pointed out.
“Maybe. It was a good plan,” he said. “A few months ago, I wouldn’t have minded the whole thing but I’ve changed my mind on plenty since then.”
“It worked.”
“Did it? Because in my mind, I was supposed to end up taking somebody else home and well… three times now and it hasn’t happened once.”
You rolled your eyes. “Because you keep turning them down when you’re at the finish line.”
He grinned innocently. “Absolute mystery why.”
“Shanks…”
“Yes?”
You stared at him for a few seconds, trying to gather your thoughts together before you just sighed. There was no point. You didn’t enjoy the game either so there was no point in continuing to force yourself to do so.
“Alright,” you said. “We won’t use it anymore. No more fake breakups.”
He nodded solemnly. “And no more fake dating.”
“That goes with the fake breakups.”
“The fake ones were pretty bad anyway. And you can’t seem to talk anyone out of wanting me, and I’ve stopped wanting anyone else. Seems like we’re running out of excuses.”
Your brain stumbled. For a second, you swore even the ocean outside stopped swaying as you stared blankly at Shanks. His expression betrayed nothing about what he just said. Gave you little to help your brain move through.
You stood from the hammock very slowly. “I’m sorry?”
He shrugged as though he’d said something about the weather. “You’re the one who couldn’t find a single reason not to date me. I’m sure if you asked any other woman, they could rattle off countless. I drink too much –”
“Only when we’re all having fun.”
“I’m obnoxious.”
“Beckman calls you that. I disagree.”
“I’m pretty carefree about most things.”
“Let somebody threaten this ship or the people on it and see how quickly that changes.”
“I don’t notice I’ve fallen for a woman until she pretends to break up with me.”
“You… I’m sorry?”
He actually laughed then. “You were ready to defend me on that without even realising what I said.”
You had been planning on it. Before the comment had fully registered in your mind, you had already been ready to find the flaw in his logic. The realisation felt almost distant from your own mind before you breathed out through your nose.
“You’re bad at lying,” you finally said. “That’s a flaw.”
“Not when I want to,” he said. “I don’t need to here. And as much as you complain that I’m a bad actor, you were worse.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve offered me a crazy ex and then just behaved mildly annoyed at everything,” he said.
You crossed your arms because you thought you had been a damn fine actor. “It’s not my fault when I have such little material to work with. I can’t complain about you being bad at relationships when you’re remembering what I drink and putting your cloak over my shoulders.”
“I’m sure you could have found something.”
“I tried.”
“Then that just proves my point better,” he said. “If there’s nothing you can think of about why we shouldn’t be together then…”
You opened your mouth. Closed it again. Stared at him for far too long while every part of the conversation caught up to you all at once.
Shanks moved closer, fingers lightly brushing over your wrist as you tried to put your thoughts and words together. He lifted your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he patiently waited for an answer he already knew.
Because it would be impossible to deny.
The problem had never been finding reasons somebody would want him. It was pretending you weren’t somebody who did.
“I’m never going to live this down,” you finally said. “My reputation is ruined.”
He chuckled. “They’ll probably find something else to tease you over.”
“I don’t even know when I fell for you,” you admitted. “You’re just… you. There’s no difference between what I think about you now and what I did when we first met.”
That infuriatingly smug smile was back on his face. “That’s probably more of a confession than you think it is.”
“I know.”
“So,” he said. “We have a deal then? No more fake exes.”
“No more exes,” you said. “Fake or not.”
“Well, I can’t promise that because I know several women who –”
You pushed his shoulder and laughed. “Not what I meant.”
He laughed with you. “I know.”
“You’re annoying,” you repeated.
“I’ve been told. And seeing as it’s the only true insult you can think of for me, I suppose I’m going to have to take it to heart.”
He was staring, eyes alight with expectation.
“Why do you look like you’re waiting for something?” you asked.
“I am,” he said. “But seeing as the other realisation took you so long, I’m prepared for –”
You leaned in to kiss him before he could finish. He smiled against your mouth, almost laughing before he responded. His hand settled against your waist and you shifted closer to him without thinking, following him when he moved back.
He chuckled and dropped his forehead against your own. “I was starting to think I’d have to spell that one out too.”
You rolled your eyes. “Maybe being smug is one of your flaws.”
“Do you count it as one?”
You kissed him again before he expected you to answer that honestly.
was looking at my drafts and found this super fun college au i did for ace ages ago that i started on but never finished….might have to pick that up again
For years you had been running one con after another, using your charms and your good looks to con bands of pirates out of their money. It was the only life you knew how to live, the only lifestyle you had held since going out on your own. The rush was always exhilarating as you fled from your victims, that night in Lougetown was just like any other, until you ran into him.
The first time you met Red Haired Shanks, you didn't know who he was and you had no idea of the ways in which he, and his crew, would come to change your life. But could you outrun years of instinct or were you doomed to repeat the same patter you always did.
inspired by the song Getaway Car by Taylor Swift
You got it.
Finally.
The weight of it — along with all of the berri you could carry — in your bag offered comfort as you ran over the spotless rooftops. You thanked your foresight for swapping your gown for a pair of pants, you couldn’t imagine fighting all of that fabric as you hopped over shingles like a tomcat supposedly would.
The crisp night air and increasing sea breeze blew through your hair and chilled your skin, but somehow you didn’t seem to mind. Your legs carried you as fast as they could, ignoring all protest from your burning lungs. Adrenaline coursed through your blood, compensating for the fact that you were woefully unprepared for this feat. Then you saw it, the harbor.
Freedom.
~~~~~
You weren’t sure why that memory came back to you as you ran through the streets of Louguetown, but the thought brought a smile to your face regardless of small band of pirates on your tail. You may or may not have swindled their captain for all he was worth and drained their coffers, but that was just the name of game. It wasn't your fault that these lonely sea men were quick to fall for your charms, but wow did you benefit from it. You laughed in joy as you adjusted the heavy bag of newly acquired coins at your hip.
More than ready to put this little chase to an end and secure a new way into the Grand Line, you ducked into an alleyway and climbed onto the nearest rooftop. You used the line of stores as stepping stones to the next roof as you ran along the street. Unfortunately, these particular pirates were not as easy to shake as you had hoped, and the last thing you wanted was a fight, so you changed your strategy.
Instead of trying to slink away undetected, you made your movements loud and obvious, garnering their attention. Speeding up, you moved towards the sea, the most obvious dead end. Once you were out of their sight you hid behind a smokestack as they passed by. You snickered to yourself as you heard their assured directions and vindictive cries.
Not one to waste time, you dismounted the roof into a back alleyway via dumpster. As you dusted yourself off you felt a presence, then, you heard a whistle.
“What a show,” the voice of a man said, impressed. You turned around to find the silhouette of a tall man in a cloak that.
“What are you doing?” You questioned him as if he had dropped down from above near you and not the other way around.
“Well, I was going back to the bar after taking a piss, but this is much more interesting,” he said with a grin, gesturing towards you and the general direction you had appeared from.
The man took a docile step towards you and you were shocked to see hair so vibrantly red in the lowlight. With him better in view you took a moment to examine him past his outline. The shadows made it tricky but it looked as if he had a scar over his left eye. Dare you say that he looked familiar, but you could not place him.
His gaze looked you up and down in turn. He took in your appearance, noting how berri poke out of your cleavage and a weirdly bulky bag tied at your hip that no doubt contained jewels.
“So,” he started casually before taking on a slightly more playful tone, “What’s got a beautiful woman acting like a stray in the night?” His eyes darting briefly once more to the rooftop you had dismounted from.
“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” you said curtly as you adjusted the bills tucked in your shirt, hiding them from view. His grin only grew. “Maybe not, but can’t fault a man for his curiosity.”
“Haven’t you heard that curiosity killed the cat?” Your patience for the man was growing thin; you were not one for unexpected guest appearances during your getaway. “Haven’t you heard that cats have nine lives?” He retorted with a step forward and a sparkle in his eye, clearly enjoying the banter while all you wanted was to leave.
“And I’d reckon a tomcat like you doesn’t have many of those left.” Your eyes fell to scar on his face, newly defined in this light. The man laughed. “Tomcat, eh? Interesting coming from the one was jumping rooftop to rooftop a minute ago,” he stepped even closer as he spoke while still leaving a respectable distance between you two.
“Felt more befitting of someone on the prowl. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must be off.” You side stepped the man and make to leave. You had just about reached the mouth of the alley before his voice rang out and threw you off your game.
“At least let me buy you a drink.”
“Not happening,” you dismissed, not looking back despite the fault in your step. For the time being, your only priority was getting the hell out of Louguetown and continuing on.
“I dunno, I’ve been told I’m great company. Plus, I can guarantee your safe passage into the Grand Line. That is where you’re headed next, yeah?” he enticed. You thought about it harder. On second thought, you could use a drink.
~~~
You let the man with the red hair, whose name you still had yet to learn, lead you to a crowded pub; he even went as far as to hold the door open for you as you entered, far more well-mannered than the usual folk you ran with. From there he lead you to the bar top, pulling out a stool for you to sit on, a gesture that made you raise your brow.
“What’s the matter, darling?” He questioned you. “Nothing, just a bit surprised,” you said, still standing. “That I know how to treat a lady?” He questioned, filling in the gap in your words, clearly amused. Eyes skeptical, you took a seat, neither confirming nor denying his assumption. “Rest assured that I am nothin’ if not a gentleman,” he said as he pushed in your stool with ease. “Just not something I’d expect of a pirate,” you admitted as he took the seat next to you.
“Ahh, so you recognize me?” He said with a near smirk and—you surely must be mistaken—a hint of relief. “Not at all,” you responded passively. I just know your type, was the part that you didn't say. But, you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity with the man. He looked almost taken aback by the response before he quickly masked it and switched gears.
“What would you like? My treat,” he offered as he turned to face the bar top. “Whatever you’re having,” you told him. You could tell a lot about a person by their drink of choice, and you knew next to nothing about the man who had just offered you safe passage into the Grand Line, which happened to be the best place your gambit . Frustratingly, instead of flagging down the bartender and ordering his ale of choice, the man had seemed to take your indifference as a challenge.
The man’s eyes squint as he examines you with a playful scrutiny, absorbing your still slightly disheveled appearance as he tried to draw a verdict. Ultimately he flagged down the bartender and ordered two old fashions which were made at impressive speeds.
“This does not seem like your type of drink,” you commented honestly, taking the glass as it was placed in front of you and swirling it around. ”I figured you wouldn’t be one for bottom shelf grog,” he replied with a crooked grin. You hummed in response, taking a small sip of your drink. Old fashions had been a favorite of your fathers and therefore had garnered your distaste, but you had to admit it wasn’t that bad all things considered.
“So, about that safe passage…” you prompted. “Are you always this eager to talk about business?” The man questioned. “I am when my welfare is on the line,” you responded flatly.
“I s’pose that’s fair,” he chuckled taking a drink before asking a question. “Wondering what’s the catch are ya?” The man set his drink down, fingertips resting on the glass’ rim and turned toward you. “What d’ya got to give?”
You held back a scoff, not particularly enjoying what he had just implied. The raffish redhead had licked his lips while he’d tried to hide how his eyes grazed over your body. The casual manner in which he had said it also got on your nerves. You had thought he’d seemed like a decent, honorable man (or rather decent enough and honorable enough), but apparently not.
Still, you needed passage and this was your cheapest lead…unfortunately. You did not walk off like he deserved, but your fist did clench under the countertop in resistance. While you had hoped for a misunderstanding, you remained realistic in the matter, it was what men did after all.
“What are you suggesting?” You did your best to mask the scorn in your tone, but after the impression that you had just received — that he had hoped for you to whore yourself out for safe voyage — it was hard to not bite back. “Need I remind you that it was you who offered me.”
“Well, I was hoping for a story,” the man said simply with a lopsided smile, as if he were trying to smooth over any misconceptions without addressing them. When you still looked skeptical he kept going. “I mean it, a story is all I ask.” “A story?” You questioned, a bit bewildered. “A story,” he confirmed. “That’s it? No catch?” You interrogated. “That’s it, no secret agenda cross my heart,” he swore mimicking the action.
You nodded, pondering the offer, but quickly agreed. Although you were sure the story he wanted was the one that would explain your sudden descent from the rooftops, that was not the one you gave him. Instead, you very loosely recounted the tale of Rapunzel, a childhood fable you held dear to your heart. You had often dreamed of being set free from your own tower, but luckily that wasn't something you had to worry about anymore— it hadn't been for a while.
You didn't expect the best reaction to your antics, but to your surprise the man laughed, slamming his hand on the table.
“Oh I like you,” he declared after you had finished, his grin near wolfish.
“Is that a threat?” You questioned, downing more or your drink, nose crinkling at the burn of the alcohol.
He shrugged, “It’s what you make of it, but I s’pose you fulfilled your end of the bargain—“ He paused, cutting himself off once the bartender was in view and ordering another round for the both of you.
“I hope you know Captain that I am not paying,” you said, readjusting the money hidden in your bust line once more. “What kind of man would I be making a lady pay for her own drinks after I asked her?” He questioned in mock offense.
"Chivalry is not the first character trait I would associate with you," you said dryly, thinking of all the pirates you had known before. "Oh darling, you wound me," he pressed his hand over his heart in yet another over the top display of theatrics. You rolled your eyes and finished your drink. He was amusing you would give him that.
"What reason would a stray have to play nice with a stranger?" You retorted, grinning for the first time — something that did not slip past the man. [That was your first mistake. You had inadvertently shown him that there was a way in, past your defenses constructed out of necessity. A crack in your facade that would grow to be catastrophic.]
"Not so much a stranger, eh?" The man said, sliding one of the fresh drinks your way as he continued, "Not when you're 'bout to be venturing into the Grand Line on my ship."
"You mean you'll give me passage?" You questioned, accidentally allowing your eyes to glimmer with hope.
"I said you held up your end of the bargain, didn't I?" He said as he started on his Nth drink of the night. There was a moment's pause, as if he was examining you, not outwardly, but you could just tell. Whatever he had found had seemed to be enough for him.
"We leave in the morning. My ship is at the port just south of here. Look for a red dragon as a figurehead and if all else fails, search for a Jolly Roger that looks like me," he said motioning to the three lines scaring his eye with three fingers.
The playful glint in his eyes grew brighter. "You're welcome to leave and just meet us in the morning, but I would love it if you would stay for another round or two— no ulterior motives either."
Despite not having yet touched your second drink, you agreed to stay. [That was your second mistake. An action that would lead to your life being forever changed.] You knew you shouldn't have but you found yourself unable to resist.
As the night continued on you came to recognize how charming the man could be, and how annoyingly attractive he was. Not that either of those weren't glaringly obvious. But because of it, an idea started to developed in your mind. Just how easy it would be to weasel your way into the flirt's heart. You had done a lot of things to play the part in the past. What scared you was that you could see yourself meaning it.
Perhaps that was just the remnant hopelessness romantic in you, the leftovers of a childhood spent alone and too in your head, back before you had to learn the harsh truth of the real world. At least that was what you would tell yourself.
~~~
Come morning, you found yourself at the docks searching for a ship matching the description of the one the redheaded man had given you last night — a dragon figurehead and palm trees, quite hard to miss— and, he was right, it took you all of two minutes to find the vessel. It was only then, looking up at the massive ship, that you realized you had yet to learn the captain’s name.
A man with lettering on the bandanna wrapped around his forehead spotted you, you watched as he retreated to the center of the ship, likely alerting the captain. Your suspicions were proved correct when bright red hair greeted you on the other side of the gangplank.
“G’morning!” He cheered, unusually chipper for the morning after the sorry state you had seen him in the night before. “Was wond’rin’ if you’d show after ya disappeared last night.” In the midst of his heavy drinking you had slinked off into the night to get some much needed rest, and by then you trusted him enough to hold up his end of the bargain. A drinking game or two had shown you that he was nothing if not a man of his word.
To your relief, he made no effort to introduce you to his crew, and they had made no move to approach you as they moved about preparing to set off to sea. The crew was much more efficient than you had given them credit for, and in under ten minutes you were exiting the bay out in the open waters.
Not long after, the red-haired captain found you and offered to show you to where you would be staying. You accepted and followed him into the depths of the ship, and to your surprise the room he revealed was rather sizable. It was clear that it hadn't been used in a while, but it far exceeded your expectations.
"That door over there is a small bathroom so you can have some privacy," the man said as he held the door open for you to enter. "Other than that, you should be able to find everything you could need, but if not, don't be afraid to ask."
The captain lingered in the doorway as you took in your temporary room. "One more thing," he said, lingering in the doorway "You're not gonna kill us all in our sleep right?"
You silenced a snort. "Funny you didn't ask that question before letting me board your ship and taking me out to sea."
"What can I say? I got a bleeding heart and a penchant for taking on strays." His response made you crack a smile, [which was a victory in his books]. "Well, I'll leave you to it," he said, tapping the doorframe before pushing away from it, not yet leaving. "Word of advice, don't stay hidden in here the whole time. Crew's a curious and'll come looking, I'm one man I can only do so much to stop them," he said as if it were beyond his hands. Something told you that he would only encourage it if given the chance.
He turned to exit, taking two steps before backtracking. "Also, think of something you'd like us to call you. I already have dibs on Little Stray, but the rest of the crew's gonna want something."
You shut the door in his face, watching his smile grow as it closed. Once you were alone, the first thing you did was check the room for anything unusual, strange holes in the walls (or floor), bugs (both kinds), or stains on the sheets. When everything came back normal you breathed a sigh of relief. The second thing you did was hide your score from the last band of pirates you had sailed with.
Not because you didn't trust this new crew, rather because you had no reason to trust them. Hell, you hadn't even met them.
Then you did the only thing you could do; pray that you wouldn't regret the decision of taking passage from a group of strangers — pirates at that.
But it was far from the first time you had done that.
hiiiiii!!! i am trying something new, once again, i started this back in january and wanted to wait until it was completed to start posting it but i could no longer help myself lol. life is busy and i have other works so idk how often i can update this, but the whole story is mapped out, it just needs to be ironed out and stitched together
tysm for reading! have a great day/night and be sure to drink some water 💕
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For years you had been running one con after another, using your charms and your good looks to con bands of pirates out of their money. It was the only life you knew how to live, the only lifestyle you had held since going out on your own. The rush was always exhilarating as you fled from your victims, that night in Lougetown was just like any other, until you ran into him.
The first time you met Red Haired Shanks, you didn't know who he was and you had no idea of the ways in which he, and his crew, would come to change your life. But could you outrun years of instinct or were you doomed to repeat the same patter you always did.
inspired by the song Getaway Car by Taylor Swift
You got it.
Finally.
The weight of it — along with all of the berri you could carry — in your bag offered comfort as you ran over the spotless rooftops. You thanked your foresight for swapping your gown for a pair of pants, you couldn’t imagine fighting all of that fabric as you hopped over shingles like a tomcat supposedly would.
The crisp night air and increasing sea breeze blew through your hair and chilled your skin, but somehow you didn’t seem to mind. Your legs carried you as fast as they could, ignoring all protest from your burning lungs. Adrenaline coursed through your blood, compensating for the fact that you were woefully unprepared for this feat. Then you saw it, the harbor.
Freedom.
~~~~~
You weren’t sure why that memory came back to you as you ran through the streets of Louguetown, but the thought brought a smile to your face regardless of small band of pirates on your tail. You may or may not have swindled their captain for all he was worth and drained their coffers, but that was just the name of game. It wasn't your fault that these lonely sea men were quick to fall for your charms, but wow did you benefit from it. You laughed in joy as you adjusted the heavy bag of newly acquired coins at your hip.
More than ready to put this little chase to an end and secure a new way into the Grand Line, you ducked into an alleyway and climbed onto the nearest rooftop. You used the line of stores as stepping stones to the next roof as you ran along the street. Unfortunately, these particular pirates were not as easy to shake as you had hoped, and the last thing you wanted was a fight, so you changed your strategy.
Instead of trying to slink away undetected, you made your movements loud and obvious, garnering their attention. Speeding up, you moved towards the sea, the most obvious dead end. Once you were out of their sight you hid behind a smokestack as they passed by. You snickered to yourself as you heard their assured directions and vindictive cries.
Not one to waste time, you dismounted the roof into a back alleyway via dumpster. As you dusted yourself off you felt a presence, then, you heard a whistle.
“What a show,” the voice of a man said, impressed. You turned around to find the silhouette of a tall man in a cloak that.
“What are you doing?” You questioned him as if he had dropped down from above near you and not the other way around.
“Well, I was going back to the bar after taking a piss, but this is much more interesting,” he said with a grin, gesturing towards you and the general direction you had appeared from.
The man took a docile step towards you and you were shocked to see hair so vibrantly red in the lowlight. With him better in view you took a moment to examine him past his outline. The shadows made it tricky but it looked as if he had a scar over his left eye. Dare you say that he looked familiar, but you could not place him.
His gaze looked you up and down in turn. He took in your appearance, noting how berri poke out of your cleavage and a weirdly bulky bag tied at your hip that no doubt contained jewels.
“So,” he started casually before taking on a slightly more playful tone, “What’s got a beautiful woman acting like a stray in the night?” His eyes darting briefly once more to the rooftop you had dismounted from.
“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” you said curtly as you adjusted the bills tucked in your shirt, hiding them from view. His grin only grew. “Maybe not, but can’t fault a man for his curiosity.”
“Haven’t you heard that curiosity killed the cat?” Your patience for the man was growing thin; you were not one for unexpected guest appearances during your getaway. “Haven’t you heard that cats have nine lives?” He retorted with a step forward and a sparkle in his eye, clearly enjoying the banter while all you wanted was to leave.
“And I’d reckon a tomcat like you doesn’t have many of those left.” Your eyes fell to scar on his face, newly defined in this light. The man laughed. “Tomcat, eh? Interesting coming from the one was jumping rooftop to rooftop a minute ago,” he stepped even closer as he spoke while still leaving a respectable distance between you two.
“Felt more befitting of someone on the prowl. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must be off.” You side stepped the man and make to leave. You had just about reached the mouth of the alley before his voice rang out and threw you off your game.
“At least let me buy you a drink.”
“Not happening,” you dismissed, not looking back despite the fault in your step. For the time being, your only priority was getting the hell out of Louguetown and continuing on.
“I dunno, I’ve been told I’m great company. Plus, I can guarantee your safe passage into the Grand Line. That is where you’re headed next, yeah?” he enticed. You thought about it harder. On second thought, you could use a drink.
~~~
You let the man with the red hair, whose name you still had yet to learn, lead you to a crowded pub; he even went as far as to hold the door open for you as you entered, far more well-mannered than the usual folk you ran with. From there he lead you to the bar top, pulling out a stool for you to sit on, a gesture that made you raise your brow.
“What’s the matter, darling?” He questioned you. “Nothing, just a bit surprised,” you said, still standing. “That I know how to treat a lady?” He questioned, filling in the gap in your words, clearly amused. Eyes skeptical, you took a seat, neither confirming nor denying his assumption. “Rest assured that I am nothin’ if not a gentleman,” he said as he pushed in your stool with ease. “Just not something I’d expect of a pirate,” you admitted as he took the seat next to you.
“Ahh, so you recognize me?” He said with a near smirk and—you surely must be mistaken—a hint of relief. “Not at all,” you responded passively. I just know your type, was the part that you didn't say. But, you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity with the man. He looked almost taken aback by the response before he quickly masked it and switched gears.
“What would you like? My treat,” he offered as he turned to face the bar top. “Whatever you’re having,” you told him. You could tell a lot about a person by their drink of choice, and you knew next to nothing about the man who had just offered you safe passage into the Grand Line, which happened to be the best place your gambit . Frustratingly, instead of flagging down the bartender and ordering his ale of choice, the man had seemed to take your indifference as a challenge.
The man’s eyes squint as he examines you with a playful scrutiny, absorbing your still slightly disheveled appearance as he tried to draw a verdict. Ultimately he flagged down the bartender and ordered two old fashions which were made at impressive speeds.
“This does not seem like your type of drink,” you commented honestly, taking the glass as it was placed in front of you and swirling it around. ”I figured you wouldn’t be one for bottom shelf grog,” he replied with a crooked grin. You hummed in response, taking a small sip of your drink. Old fashions had been a favorite of your fathers and therefore had garnered your distaste, but you had to admit it wasn’t that bad all things considered.
“So, about that safe passage…” you prompted. “Are you always this eager to talk about business?” The man questioned. “I am when my welfare is on the line,” you responded flatly.
“I s’pose that’s fair,” he chuckled taking a drink before asking a question. “Wondering what’s the catch are ya?” The man set his drink down, fingertips resting on the glass’ rim and turned toward you. “What d’ya got to give?”
You held back a scoff, not particularly enjoying what he had just implied. The raffish redhead had licked his lips while he’d tried to hide how his eyes grazed over your body. The casual manner in which he had said it also got on your nerves. You had thought he’d seemed like a decent, honorable man (or rather decent enough and honorable enough), but apparently not.
Still, you needed passage and this was your cheapest lead…unfortunately. You did not walk off like he deserved, but your fist did clench under the countertop in resistance. While you had hoped for a misunderstanding, you remained realistic in the matter, it was what men did after all.
“What are you suggesting?” You did your best to mask the scorn in your tone, but after the impression that you had just received — that he had hoped for you to whore yourself out for safe voyage — it was hard to not bite back. “Need I remind you that it was you who offered me.”
“Well, I was hoping for a story,” the man said simply with a lopsided smile, as if he were trying to smooth over any misconceptions without addressing them. When you still looked skeptical he kept going. “I mean it, a story is all I ask.” “A story?” You questioned, a bit bewildered. “A story,” he confirmed. “That’s it? No catch?” You interrogated. “That’s it, no secret agenda cross my heart,” he swore mimicking the action.
You nodded, pondering the offer, but quickly agreed. Although you were sure the story he wanted was the one that would explain your sudden descent from the rooftops, that was not the one you gave him. Instead, you very loosely recounted the tale of Rapunzel, a childhood fable you held dear to your heart. You had often dreamed of being set free from your own tower, but luckily that wasn't something you had to worry about anymore— it hadn't been for a while.
You didn't expect the best reaction to your antics, but to your surprise the man laughed, slamming his hand on the table.
“Oh I like you,” he declared after you had finished, his grin near wolfish.
“Is that a threat?” You questioned, downing more or your drink, nose crinkling at the burn of the alcohol.
He shrugged, “It’s what you make of it, but I s’pose you fulfilled your end of the bargain—“ He paused, cutting himself off once the bartender was in view and ordering another round for the both of you.
“I hope you know Captain that I am not paying,” you said, readjusting the money hidden in your bust line once more. “What kind of man would I be making a lady pay for her own drinks after I asked her?” He questioned in mock offense.
"Chivalry is not the first character trait I would associate with you," you said dryly, thinking of all the pirates you had known before. "Oh darling, you wound me," he pressed his hand over his heart in yet another over the top display of theatrics. You rolled your eyes and finished your drink. He was amusing you would give him that.
"What reason would a stray have to play nice with a stranger?" You retorted, grinning for the first time — something that did not slip past the man. [That was your first mistake. You had inadvertently shown him that there was a way in, past your defenses constructed out of necessity. A crack in your facade that would grow to be catastrophic.]
"Not so much a stranger, eh?" The man said, sliding one of the fresh drinks your way as he continued, "Not when you're 'bout to be venturing into the Grand Line on my ship."
"You mean you'll give me passage?" You questioned, accidentally allowing your eyes to glimmer with hope.
"I said you held up your end of the bargain, didn't I?" He said as he started on his Nth drink of the night. There was a moment's pause, as if he was examining you, not outwardly, but you could just tell. Whatever he had found had seemed to be enough for him.
"We leave in the morning. My ship is at the port just south of here. Look for a red dragon as a figurehead and if all else fails, search for a Jolly Roger that looks like me," he said motioning to the three lines scaring his eye with three fingers.
The playful glint in his eyes grew brighter. "You're welcome to leave and just meet us in the morning, but I would love it if you would stay for another round or two— no ulterior motives either."
Despite not having yet touched your second drink, you agreed to stay. [That was your second mistake. An action that would lead to your life being forever changed.] You knew you shouldn't have but you found yourself unable to resist.
As the night continued on you came to recognize how charming the man could be, and how annoyingly attractive he was. Not that either of those weren't glaringly obvious. But because of it, an idea started to developed in your mind. Just how easy it would be to weasel your way into the flirt's heart. You had done a lot of things to play the part in the past. What scared you was that you could see yourself meaning it.
Perhaps that was just the remnant hopelessness romantic in you, the leftovers of a childhood spent alone and too in your head, back before you had to learn the harsh truth of the real world. At least that was what you would tell yourself.
~~~
Come morning, you found yourself at the docks searching for a ship matching the description of the one the redheaded man had given you last night — a dragon figurehead and palm trees, quite hard to miss— and, he was right, it took you all of two minutes to find the vessel. It was only then, looking up at the massive ship, that you realized you had yet to learn the captain’s name.
A man with lettering on the bandanna wrapped around his forehead spotted you, you watched as he retreated to the center of the ship, likely alerting the captain. Your suspicions were proved correct when bright red hair greeted you on the other side of the gangplank.
“G’morning!” He cheered, unusually chipper for the morning after the sorry state you had seen him in the night before. “Was wond’rin’ if you’d show after ya disappeared last night.” In the midst of his heavy drinking you had slinked off into the night to get some much needed rest, and by then you trusted him enough to hold up his end of the bargain. A drinking game or two had shown you that he was nothing if not a man of his word.
To your relief, he made no effort to introduce you to his crew, and they had made no move to approach you as they moved about preparing to set off to sea. The crew was much more efficient than you had given them credit for, and in under ten minutes you were exiting the bay out in the open waters.
Not long after, the red-haired captain found you and offered to show you to where you would be staying. You accepted and followed him into the depths of the ship, and to your surprise the room he revealed was rather sizable. It was clear that it hadn't been used in a while, but it far exceeded your expectations.
"That door over there is a small bathroom so you can have some privacy," the man said as he held the door open for you to enter. "Other than that, you should be able to find everything you could need, but if not, don't be afraid to ask."
The captain lingered in the doorway as you took in your temporary room. "One more thing," he said, lingering in the doorway "You're not gonna kill us all in our sleep right?"
You silenced a snort. "Funny you didn't ask that question before letting me board your ship and taking me out to sea."
"What can I say? I got a bleeding heart and a penchant for taking on strays." His response made you crack a smile, [which was a victory in his books]. "Well, I'll leave you to it," he said, tapping the doorframe before pushing away from it, not yet leaving. "Word of advice, don't stay hidden in here the whole time. Crew's a curious and'll come looking, I'm one man I can only do so much to stop them," he said as if it were beyond his hands. Something told you that he would only encourage it if given the chance.
He turned to exit, taking two steps before backtracking. "Also, think of something you'd like us to call you. I already have dibs on Little Stray, but the rest of the crew's gonna want something."
You shut the door in his face, watching his smile grow as it closed. Once you were alone, the first thing you did was check the room for anything unusual, strange holes in the walls (or floor), bugs (both kinds), or stains on the sheets. When everything came back normal you breathed a sigh of relief. The second thing you did was hide your score from the last band of pirates you had sailed with.
Not because you didn't trust this new crew, rather because you had no reason to trust them. Hell, you hadn't even met them.
Then you did the only thing you could do; pray that you wouldn't regret the decision of taking passage from a group of strangers — pirates at that.
But it was far from the first time you had done that.
Chapter II: The Light of Freedom
hiiiiii!!! i am trying something new, once again, i started this back in january and wanted to wait until it was completed to start posting it but i could no longer help myself lol. life is busy and i have other works so idk how often i can update this, but the whole story is mapped out, it just needs to be ironed out and stitched together
tysm for reading! have a great day/night and be sure to drink some water 💕
remembered this song now i can’t stop thinking about a certain red haired commander
i am now in a spiral jotting down as many ideas as i can about this, expect something soon (soon is relative, and it will probably most likely be a synopsis while i work on weaving together the actual story)
i have a large chunk of this written and unfortunately i am being evil with it lol, prepare for angst and hurt in between a enemies rivals to lovers story. i want to say it is a slow burn but i am not so sure, in universe it absolutely is as this will follow much of their lives starting as children up to recent cannon so we got like thirty years of ground to cover lol
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Plot: Shanks reflects on the quiet life he might have chosen and the home he found instead.
The Red Force was quieter at night.
The laughter had died below deck. No one was shouting over cards, and Yasopp had finally stopped insisting that the next shot was “for pride” long after pride had ceased to have anything to do with it.
Shanks stood at the rail with his hand around the neck of a bottle he had not raised in nearly half an hour.
He should have gone below.
Beckman would notice if he stayed up too long. Tonight, the deck was empty, the sea was calm, and no one needed the easy smile that told the crew there was nothing ahead worth fearing.
Shanks let his face settle.
It felt strange every time.
He looked across the black water and tried to imagine a life contained within a single harbor.
A small house, perhaps. Nothing grand. He had seen enough polished halls to know he had no use for them.
The house in his mind creaked when the wind came in. There were dishes left beside the sink. Children’s shoes crowded the doorway.
He smiled faintly.
He could almost see them.
One child with red hair and a loud mouth, climbing fences before learning how to read. Another quieter one who watched everything. A woman at the window pretending not to laugh while he attempted to sound stern.
Don’t climb onto the roof.
Don’t put that in your mouth.
Don’t tell your mother I taught you that.
They would have ordinary problems. A fence brought down by a storm. A baby who refused to sleep unless he carried them through the house at three in the morning. A wife annoyed because he tracked mud across the floor.
The worst thing waiting for him in the morning would be cold coffee and a list of errands he had already forgotten.
Shanks breathed out slowly.
The life felt close enough to picture and distant enough to belong to someone else.
He had spent all of his life at sea. He had learned early that the horizon always held another place, another danger, another reason to keep going.
Roger had given him freedom before Shanks had been old enough to understand what might otherwise have been waiting for him.
That was enough.
The bottle shifted in his hand. His thumb moved over the glass.
Sometimes he was tired.
Not tired enough to sleep. Sleep could not touch this.
It came from knowing how easily the balance between the Emperors, the Marines, and the Government could fracture once the wrong person pushed hard enough.
Shanks did not know everything.
He knew enough to understand that the sea would not remain as it was, and that the years ahead would demand more of him than those behind him had.
The wind stirred the empty sleeve at his side.
He looked down at it.
He had made peace with the arm years ago. There were still moments when instinct told his missing hand to reach for something before memory corrected it.
But he did not regret it.
Not the arm.
Luffy had lived.
Shanks had looked at him and placed his faith in a future neither of them could yet see.
That faith had not been misplaced.
The thought eased something in him, though it brought an ache with it.
A small life would have cost him other things.
Not because a man could not love a family and still stand against the world when necessary.
But Shanks knew himself well enough to understand what he would have done. He would have left whenever the sea called. He would have promised to return and hated himself each time he could not say when.
Perhaps there had once been a time when he could have chosen differently.
An island he might have stayed on. A woman he might have asked to wait.
He had let those chances pass.
Some of them deliberately.
Others because he had always assumed another would come.
Shanks closed his eyes.
For a moment, he allowed himself the house again.
A warm kitchen. Rain against the windows. A child asleep against his shoulder while he stood beside the fire. A woman reaching up to brush wet hair away from his forehead when he came through the door.
No maps spread across the table. No wanted posters. No reports waiting for him when he woke. No need to decide which threat required an answer and which answer might create something worse.
He would not be an Emperor there.
He would not be Roger’s apprentice or the last name he had refused to inherit.
Only Shanks.
His fingers tightened around the bottle. Then he opened his eyes.
Wanting a thing did not make it his. And not every man got to choose a small life.
Some people had the strength to live quietly.
Some had the strength to stay.
Shanks had always had the other kind.
The kind that carried him forward even when he wanted to stop.
The kind that let him smile in front of his crew because fear spread faster when captains showed it.
The kind that let him drink with enemies, bury friends, make threats in a pleasant voice, and cut through a battlefield when the world had finally gone too far.
He could not be the man in the little house.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
But he could make sure more people got the chance to be.
That had to mean something.
A floorboard creaked behind him.
Shanks did not turn.
“You planning to stand there until sunrise?” Beckman asked.
“Hadn’t decided.”
“That means yes.”
Shanks smiled slightly and glanced over his shoulder.
Beckman stood near the stairs with a cigarette between his fingers and his coat thrown over one shoulder.
Shanks lifted the bottle. “Want some?”
“No.”
“Thought you might say that.”
Beckman came to the rail anyway.
He rested his forearms against it and looked out over the water without asking why Shanks was awake. That was one of the reasons Shanks had kept him close for so many years. Beckman understood that silence could be an answer.
For a while, they stood without speaking.
The cigarette burned slowly between Beckman’s fingers. The ship moved beneath them.
Eventually, Beckman said, “Bad thoughts?”
Shanks looked at the water.
“Quiet ones.”
Beckman accepted that.
Another stretch of silence passed before Shanks spoke again.
“You ever think about stopping?”
“No.”
The answer came without hesitation.
Shanks turned his head. “You could at least pretend to consider it.”
“I think about sleeping more. Improving our inventory records. Occasionally finding a captain who warns me before changing course.”
“That sounds disloyal.”
“Loyalty is the only reason I still tell you.”
Shanks laughed quietly. The sound felt easier than it had a moment before, though not enough to erase what had brought him onto the deck.
Beckman took another drag from his cigarette.
“You could have stopped once,” he said.
Shanks knew what he meant.
“Would’ve made a terrible husband,” he said.
“Yes.”
Shanks looked at him.
Beckman did not appear remotely apologetic.
Shanks rested against the rail again. His smile remained for another moment before fading on its own.
“I think I wanted to know what it felt like,” he said.
Beckman’s expression changed slightly. There was no pity in it.
“To stay?” Beckman asked.
“To have something that didn’t depend on what happened beyond the next horizon.”
Beckman looked across the deck.
The Red Force was worn in places despite constant care. There were scratches in the wood where Monster had once dragged something he had been expressly told not to move. A repair near the mast did not quite match the surrounding boards.
Above them, their flag moved in the wind.
“You have people who expect you to come back,” Beckman said.
Shanks looked at him.
“It isn’t the same,” Beckman continued. “But it isn’t nothing.”
Below them slept men who had followed Shanks across half the world. They argued with him, drank with him, and complained whenever his decisions endangered their sleep, but they would sail into any sea he pointed toward.
It was not children’s shoes beside a door or a woman waiting at a window.
But it was a place where his absence was noticed.
Shanks let out a slow breath. The weight inside him did not disappear. It settled back into a shape he knew how to carry.
He lifted the bottle, took one final drink, and set it beside his boot.
Beckman remained next to him.
Neither of them spoke again for some time.
The first hint of morning touched the edge of the water.
He let himself picture the small house once more, with a child running barefoot in the grass while someone called after them.
Then he let it go.
Not because he had never wanted it.
Because the deck beneath him was real. Beckman was still standing beside him, and below them slept the men who had made this ship a home.
Beckman put out his cigarette.
“Coming below?”
“In a minute.”
Beckman nodded but did not leave.
They stayed at the rail until the sun began to rise.
Plot: A tavern waitress with roots in nobility is taken into the polished brutality of Mary Geoise. Saint Shamrock Figarland is tasked with retrieving you. How unfortunate for him.
Read on AO3
Themes: Enemies to lovers, romance, humor, drama, lil bit of angst.
remembered this song now i can’t stop thinking about a certain red haired commander
i am now in a spiral jotting down as many ideas as i can about this, expect something soon (soon is relative, and it will probably most likely be a synopsis while i work on weaving together the actual story)
i love watching people make progress reading through on the run, it brings me so much joy to recognize usernames as they spend the day (or sometimes week) reading what i poured hours into getting the notification of a like on the chapter they just read is something i enjoy, i love being like ooooo they’re about to hit this part it makes me happy and im sure im not the only one, please keep doing this
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
