Grandpa Whitebeard Hcs!!

Grandpa Whitebeard Hcs!!

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Child is Gn. Use your dang imagination people!!

This legend, is a top tier on my list of favorites~! I hope I did him justice with this one.

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Oh boy, Whitebeard's grandchild just got born. A new addition to the family? Flesh and blood from the all mighty father himself?!! You know what that means-

!!!! PaRtY TIME !!!!

Lets be fair tho, the Whitebeard Pirates would use any excuse to throw a party, they're ALWAYS partying. Yet this is different... THIS IS BIG !!!

Pops just wouldn't stop smiling. All he talks about now is his newborn grandchild, he'd even call on a full commander meeting just to pick a perfect name for the baby.

And once the child is released from the ship's nursing room, this old grandpa will be doting on 'em nonestop. Filling the Mobydick with all sorts of toys and castles, even some walls might be painted in a brighter color so that "the baby wouldn't get traumatised."

All fun and games until reality hits them hard, they are pirates, notoriously famous at that. So they're constantly targeted by other pirates or pirate hunters. And when that does happen, the whole crew is in total offense mode.

The crew's usual go-to plan is trying to find potential crewmembers or deposing off enemy ships entirely. But when an offender dares to lay a finger on their precious bundle of joy, they'll be raining hellfire on earth if they leave the battle alive. Torn to shreds by Marco's blazing kicks? Skinned alive by Vista's deadly swords? Burnt to the bone till they're nothing but ashes with Ace's scorching flames?? Or even worse, sent into the darkest pits of hell by Whitebeard's strike of fury?!!

In a nutshell, do not, I repeat- YOU. DO. NOT. mess with Whitebeard's grandchild, if you value your dear unfortunate life.

Growing older, the young pirate would be basked in everyone's caring nature. Whitebeard would have his sons stay with them incase he couldn't, he'd sometimes order the commanders to entertain the child, you might even see Ace goofingly scurrying around the ship after the others, then diving headfirst onto the ground when his narcolepsy kicks out in a simple game of tag.

You'd see the Mobydick's whole atmosphere changing, Thatch constantly cooking the kid's favorite meals, even making time for fun culinary lessons and food art. Marco would welcome the child to his office, storing their favorite books, maybe even halting his work process just to read them a tale regarding mythological creatures and ancient theories.

Ace on the other hand, would be the 24/7 shopping delivery service for the kid's expenses. They want a toy castle? Here you go! They want a pony? He'll sail the seven seas if necessary! The child asks for the world's largest cat?? Well, why not go ahead and ask for five??

Whitebeard would read the child to sleep, definitely not a storybook. Nuh uh, this man would be recounting his past adventures with a proud grin on his face, narrating various battles he'd fought and conquered mightily. He'd fondly watch his grandkid's reaction grow from mere curiosity, to absolute fascination for their old grandpa.

"Don't worry kid, I see a bright future for you in the new era! You'll meet lots of good people. You'll fight only the strongest!! I'd expect nothing less from my grandchild. Well, you can call it a grandfather's hunch - GURararararara!"

Baby Blues

“Imagine presenting Peanuts all bundled up in blankets to Dogday and being like OUR SON”

This is the ask I can’t fucking find losing my damn mind gonna write it anyway because fuck you tumblr I’m not a simple bitch my memory STRONG

Dogday knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the room and saw you stood up, bouncing and rocking side to side. A aimless melody tumbled out of your mouth, mixed with soft giggles and coos. He had half a mind to walk right back out and not be caught up in whatever this was, but he was curious as to what you were doing.

And you had turned around and spotted him before he could get away anyhow.

“Dogday!” You sang, practically beaming to see him. It easily softened him up, but he didn’t overlook the bundle of blue blankets in your arms. Were you playing a game? “Come here! Look!”

Dogday obeyed, walking over to where you stood. He tried to peer into the blankets, but you just pressed them into his arms. They came up to cradle the bundle how you did, supporting its weight and tucking it against his chest. You leaned close, one hand on his bicep as the other pushed back a corner of the blanket.

Peanuts stared back up at him, a happy, albeit sleepy, “owo” escaping the pup at the sight of Dogday.

“Our son!” You said, before Dogday could even process anything. “He looks just like you!”

Dogday looked at you, then looked at Peanuts. The pup settled down into his arms easily, like their months of war meant nothing.

“Angel?”

“Hm?”

Dogday paused. He. . . felt strange. The idea of a baby, of him a father, of you his spouse, of a family with you three and the “aunties” (as he no doubt expected you to call them) here as well, it all sat upon him like a heavy weight. He never expected anything like this when he was in the factory. Sure, he played house with the kids sometimes but. . . this was different.

This was domestic and normal and sweet and everything Dogday never expected to get back once he became who he was today. But yet here it was, within reach, should he just try to grab it.

A hand brushed back his ear. “Dogday?” You leaned down some, catching his eye. “You okay, sunshine?”

Dogday felt he could be sick with how much he loved you in that moment.

“I’m okay, angel.” He said, knocking his head to yours. “Let’s. . .” He eyed Peanuts, snoozing away in his bundle. “Let’s put the baby down, and watch a movie.”

You grinned ear to ear, happily leading the way to the bedroom. “Yeah! Let’s watch the Polar Express. It’s a Christmas classic!”

“It’s March, angel.”

“A classic!”

Stars above, did he love you.

What level of infection is this?

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