Have you ever wanted to enter the one piece world? Maybe you want to be friends with the strawhats, or the heart pirates? Perhaps you'd rather be dating one of them, or all of them!! Here you can do that, feel free to send in requests in my request...
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A/N: Hope this is alright, honestly I am not all that creative, hence why I make you guys give me the stories you wanna see, so uhhh enjoy!!
The crates weren't going to move themselves. That was what Vista had said, anyway, when you'd made the mistake of pausing too long between hauls and letting your gaze drift toward the harbour.
He hadn't been unkind about it, Vista was rarely unkind about anything, which was part of what made him so good to work alongside, but he had raised one magnificently arched eyebrow in your direction and tilted his head toward the stack of supply boxes still waiting on the dock, and that had been that.
So you worked. The afternoon sun pressed down on the port stubbornly, the Moby Dick sat heavy and content at the dock while her crew moved around her like a tide, restocking, repairing, checking the rigging, arguing about rigging, fixing the arguments about rigging with their fists and then going back to it.
It was ordinary, and what you had decided long ago to call home. You hoisted another crate against your shoulder and fell back into the rhythm of it, step, turn, set it down, and go back for another, until the work stopped being something you thought about and became something your body simply did on autopilot.
Which was precisely why you didn't notice him until he was already there. The presence arrived before the voice did. A warmth that had nothing to do with the sun, and then the dock around you seemed to narrow to just the few inches between your ear and someone else's mouth.
"Storage room" the voice murmured. "Port side, ten o'clock". You went very still. "Don't be late". And then the warmth was gone. You turned, not sure what expression you were wearing, something that probably looked deeply undignified, and you caught just enough of him to confirm it was exactly who you knew it had been.
Portgas D. Ace, second division commander, catastrophic nuisance, the single most aggravating person aboard this ship, and he was already jogging back toward the gangplank.
He didn't look over, but the grin on his face was visible as you took in his side profile, his excitement radiating off him, and you felt an answering smile break across your own face before you'd made any decision to allow it.
"Y/N!". You quickly turned back around. Vista stood with his arms folded and both eyebrows raised this time, which was a significantly more expressive deployment of the eyebrows than before.
He nodded patiently, with great ceremony, toward the crate sitting at your feet that you had entirely forgotten you were supposed to be taking aboard. "Right" you nodded. "Mm" Vista hummed. You picked up the crate and went back to work.
By evening, The Moby Dick felt like a whole new ship. Things had long settled since the bustling day. No more frantic overlapping of a full crew in motion. No things were far more comfortable, the creak of wood, the knock of the hull against the dock, and laughter bleeding out the walls from the galley.
