#Can't draw hats for shit

[huh-1260]

So...uh I made myself an official Spirit Tracks Wars design for my fic I have on Ao3. It's called "We meet at Wars and again as Spirts" I uh, I wasn't really that creative with the title, I regret having long ass titles for my fic. Um, you can read it if you want, it's uh incomplete updates are inconsistent because I'm working on another series and Whumptober at the same time, maybe updates will be consistent after a while? Probably not though, I have another chapter in my drafts, but that's not important. It's my blorobo Spirit Track Wars!

[bixels]

I'm not getting into The Giving Tree discourse...

[tvntheatre]

How the fuck do I draw nutcrackers</3 (trying to find a consistent style depending on whomst I'm doodling

[stupidelliott]

oh yeah i forgot to post these uhm. luther BLAST!!!!

the last drawing was of him when he was around 19 (when he first joined his gang)

[the-aprilfools-bitch]

@andypasta bitch you can't say this to me 3:

<3

[randyjadeyaoi]

tried to draw a hat and started coughing and dying

[cannibalcreeps]

Rare Goggle doodles 

[svtskneecaps]

sometimes when i'm bored at work i think of a lil egg baby and this literally all stemmed from me going "haha that's a funny name" but like she's grown such a character in my mind

like her name would be "paris" but i'd pronounce it like 'parse' because i think messing with people is funny, and also because it would be short for 'parsley' but i'd end up calling her so many pet names that her name wouldn't even matter anymore because the air would just be full of 'darling' and 'angel' and 'sweetheart'

and we'd build a bakery with automated food production and we'd offer it for free in exchange for our customers to leave a song recommendation in their native language, and she'd like karaoke even tho she can't bc she's an egg so when we build the automated machines (and scream and struggle and scuff em) she'd play music through the microphone and we'd pretend that's her singing

and we'd be kinda indifferent to the dangers of the world so we'd probably just have diamond armor that's as max enchanted as either of us can be bothered to make it but we'd also be enchanted by the crazy selection of armor on the server so i think we'd just collect it all and then decide when we log in what armor we'd wear that day, except i'd let her decide bc god knows i'm too scatterbrained, 'darling, what armor shall we drip out in today?' and then we'd match, except i'd be lost on the days when she didn't log in so i'd just wear diamond bc everyone knows my sweet baby girl is the one who wrung the fashion sense out of my genetic line, nevermind that we don't share genes at all

like do you see it. do you see the vision. i don't even know what her little egg design embellishment would be. can't figure it out; i kinda imagine it being plant or garden themed but more muddy than whimsical, closer to coveralls than a flower but bobby already wears overalls so i'm SOL lmao

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Kyle Garrick:

Being friends with Kyle long before you two began a relationship. In fact, when he came home from a fairly long deployment and you got a chance to see him, you went to give him a hug. Next thing you know, you two were kissing. You've been together ever since.

Similarly, the first time you two had sex was a spur-of-the-moment thing. It was a reassuring, very intimate moment for you both and was also the one time when you two weren't overly busy and stressed with your lives and could actually afford to spend time with each other.

Having more makeout sessions than you can count because you are obsessed with Kyle's lips. Obsessed. His lips are full, soft as all hell, and you love them everywhere on your body.

Kyle is much more sentimental than he lets on. You gift him something, he will hold on to it until he can't anymore.

You two rarely, if ever, call each other by name. For instance, on your end it's always, "Hey, handsome," and on Kyle's end, it's "Hey, gorgeous." Hell, even Kyle's name in your phone is "Handsome" with the 💋 emoji. You know shit's serious if first names get used. Of course, you've used this to your advantage to prank him on more than one occasion.

Kyle not realizing he has so many damn hats until you start wearing them when you sometimes run quick errands. When you get home, you just take them off wherever. He goes back to collect them later and even he's put off by how many hats he has. Damn, is he really more like the Cap'n than he thought?

Flirting. A lot of flirting. Especially through text. Especially using emojis. Especially when Kyle's trolling you.

Being in competition with each other because it's fun. And sexy. And because Kyle looks so hot when he gets competitive and his nostrils flare up. Oh, you hit your 10,000-step mark today? Well, Kyle hit... 10,001. Nice try, darling. Oh, wait, you've declared Uno, Kyle? Jokes on you because here's a Draw 4 card! HA.

The real trials of your relationship revolving around his deployments. Kyle is as inquisitive and questioning as he is a good soldier and when he comes home, he... has his moments. You're likely to be met with an irritable lover the longer the deployment and so you leave Kyle to his devices to process everything. Sometimes he'll talk about it. Sometimes. Other times, he won't let you leave him. He'll just pull you into his arms and hold you because he needs that reassurance again.

You and Kyle ragging on each other about your taste in movies. So you compromise. He gets to watch a favorite movie of yours and you get to watch one of his. Turns out that Kyle loves horror movies, so it's a win-win for him. He gets to enjoy a good movie and you clinging to him for dear life when it gets scary.

[hazbinshusk]

“Control yourself, sugar.” Husk tells you in a low, velvety voice, glancing warily around the room even as his hands move to alight on your waist.

“For a guy who doesn’t wear a shirt, you’re remarkably buttoned-up, old man.” you teased, stealing the hat from his head and putting atop your own. You were straddling his lap on one of the couches in the hotel lobby, and the bright overhead lights have the two of you feeling exposed. Still, that doesn’t stop you from leaning down to brush your lips over the side of his throat.

“I hate it when you call me that,” Husk says despite the way he smiles up at you when you pull away again.

"Why?" you ask innocently, scratching your fingers lightly through the fur on his chest. You push his suspenders down off his shoulders, and despite the way his ears flicker warily, his eyes are wide and curious. "Don't like thinking about how a man like you managed to seduce a sweet, innocent thing like me?"

Husk snorts, his hands sliding down to cup your ass and squeeze. His smirk widens as you gasp in response. "You're a lotta things, doll, but innocent ain't one of 'em."

"No?" you ask in a lilting tone, rolling your hips once over his lap. Husk's eyes close for a moment, a groan sounding in the back of his throat.

"No." he replies simply. He shudders when one of your hands comes up to tease along the curve of his wing. He catches your wrist, pressing a kiss to the inside of it. The gesture makes your chest flutter. "And I don't know if we need to risk provin' that to the whole damn hotel. You're not exactly quiet, doll."

You pout, hands coming down to rest in your lap, between your thighs. Husk's eyes follow them, watching as they bunch slowly in your skirt, drawing it higher and higher...

"You're going to make me wait, Husk?" you ask, the fingers of one hand slipping up under your skirt. Husk's ears flick forward, his chest rising and falling in a single heavy breath. You whimper as you brush your fingers against your clit, and Husk's claws tighten reflexively against your ass. "Your room is so far away and I'm so--"

Husk's mouth meets your hungrily and you giggle as he grumbles into the kiss. "Can't believe you've got me doin' this shit in public..."

You grin, a moan catching in your throat as one of Husk's hands comes around to replace yours between your legs. You'd forgone underwear just for this event, and the feel of his warm hand pressing up against the slickness between your thighs made you shudder.

You fumble with the fastenings of his pants, Husk's tongue in your mouth as you wrap a hand around his hard cock. It twitches under your touch, and Husk pulls away from your mouth as you rise up to lower yourself onto him, his head falling back against the couch with an audible, aching moan.

You snicker, taking hold of his shoulders as you fuck yourself onto his cock. "Now who's the noisy one?"

"Fuck, baby..." Husk groans, his forehead pressing against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, curling your fingers in the soft fur between his ears. "Fuck..."

"You sure you don't want an audience, honey?" you tease, breath catching as Husk uses the hand still on your ass to grind you down against his pelvic bone, the barbs of his cock making you squeeze your thighs around his. "You sound so pretty like this... don't you want the others to know just how pretty my kitty is?"

Husk growls, taking hold of your hips roughly. He pushes you back as he turns, laying you out on the sofa. You arch under him as he thrusts himself into you, hard, and your eyes roll back as he takes up a brutal pace. Husk fucks you the way you knew he would when you called him 'pretty' - roughly and hungrily and with his claws tearing gauges in the cushions beneath you. You wrap your legs around his waist, push your hips up to meet every thrust, and when you cum it's with Husk's teeth digging into your collarbone and your fingers on your clit.

"Doin' so good for me, baby." he mutters into your throat, the rough line of his tongue against the marks he's left on your shoulder. "Gonna sing so pretty for me, aren't you?"

"Yes," you gasp breathlessly, wrapping your arms around him. You clutch at his back, at handfuls of fur, and Husk almost chokes on a moan as your hands find the base of his wings. "Yes, please, Husk, I'm--"

"Such a good girl," he tells you, his words far softer than the way his hips still slam into yours. You can feel yourself beginning to crest again, and your eyes squeeze close. "No, no, baby. C'mon doll, eyes on me and you can cum."

You force them open again and he kisses you, all tongue and teeth before he buries his face in the base of your throat and you cum again, announcing it to the lobby in a long, drawn-out call of his name.

Husk follows soon after, his hips stuttering into yours for a few more moments before he collapses on top of you, his chin on your chest.

He chuckles, rich tobacco and whiskey, and you force your head up to look at him.

"What?"

"Nothin'." he shrugs despite the purr now reverberating in both your chests. "Jus' thinkin' that you coulda been in the choir, a set of pipes like that."

Husk laughs as you smack him, pulling slowly out of you. You can feel the wet patch on the cushions beneath you.

"C'mon, doll. We gotta get you to bed before we really do have an audience down here."

[briefalpacashark]

~Cowboys and Men~ Part One ~

Synopsis : The 141 have to play cowboys.

================================================

You sat along with the other boys of the 141 as you stared at Laswell. She had just delivered the news of your next mission.

“Well shit,” you grin widely. Why? The mission was right up your alley. You had personal experience practically having grown up in the thick of it. The boys, however. You were almost certain that none of them had even come close to anything like it.

The mission. Going undercover in an American rodeo. 

“So you want us to play cowboy?” Price asked.

“That’s right. Long enough till you find this guy and bring him in,” she stated tapping her knuckle on a photo of the target. An older man with a grim surrounded by gray hair and a killer mustache.

“Y/N you'll be the one participating in the rodeo. The boys will be your team,” Laswell explained simply. 

“Her team?” Jonny asked, jabbing his thumb at you. “Why can't I be the horse rider huh?” he asked.

“Can you ride a horse?” Laswell asked.

“Well no, canne be hard, can it?” his question had you chuckling.

“Its an invite only event, we've got a contact. You'll head out tomorrow to show him what you got. He'll slot you in where he can,” Laswell focused on you as she spoke.

“Sure thing boss,” you nodded.

“Honestly Laswell, I think I could do a pretty good job,” Jonny stated.

“The fact that you think a rodeo only involves horses proves how unqualified you are for it,” You stated.

“And you are?” Jonny asked.

“I grew up in the saddle of a horse, mate. You're looking at a genuine drover,” you gestured to your body with a smirk.

“The fuck is a drover?” Jonny asked the rest of the team. Gaz simply shrugged.

“Alright dismissed,” Laswell said. 

You were quickly dispatched to the good old US of A. You were dropped off in a random field via helicopter. Your team walked up to two men on horseback. The one on the left was tall and buff with golden hair to die for. The other was slightly shorter and stubbier. But they both had one thing in common. They looked like genuine cowboys. Hats and everything.

“Howdy!” Jonny called with a terrible American accent.

“Fucken hell,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Forgive him. He's hit his head a few too many times,” Price stated.

“That stunt his growth too?” The blond asked. Your laugh broke through your lips as Jonny’s smile fell.

“The one you just shut up is Soap, that's Gaz, Ghost. I’m Bravo and that’s Doc.” he pointed you all out the cowboys, tipping their hat’s to you.

“Ma’am, I heard you're the only one with experience in the saddle,” the smile the blond gave you was slightly flirtatious.

“Since I was two. Grew up on a cattle station over in Australia,” You stated walking up to him to give them both a firm handshake.

“How could you choose the military life over one in the saddle?” he asked.

“Plan to get back to it one day,” you said your attention being grabbed by his horse that tried to nibble your jacket.

“He's gorgeous. Mustang?” You asked, reaching up to brush his nose.

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded. “Care for a ride?” he asked with a wink. You chuckled at his obvious flirting attempt.

“Sorry mate. Not planning in hoping in any saddle that aint my own,” you said, giving the horse a pat.  

“Alright, well, this is Sam, my name's Aurthur,” he stated.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Price stated spoke up drawing the attention off you. 

“Pleasures all ours, Come on by the looks of you, it seems like we've got some work to do,” he stated.

“Work of what?” Gaz asked.

“To make you a lot cowboys,” he said with a grin.

First order of business, if you were to pass for cowboys, you had to look the part. Aurthur generously offered to take you all shopping. Your choice was quick, picked out for practicality. A simple light blue button up. A pair of denim jeans, a comfortable pair of boots and your old hat. You pulled the beat up looking thing out of your bag. It was your simple cattleman hat shape, in a dusty brown colour. It was scuffed and dirty, but it was yours. Setting it atop your head, you smiled at the familiar feeling. Slipping on the dark leather jacket, you fixed the collar before stepping out of the changing room.

“Look out,” Jonny stated from their allocated seats, all gathered in front of the changing rooms.

“So how do I look?” You asked, giving them a little pose.

“Like one hell of a rider,” Aurthur spoke up.

“So so,” Gaz tilted his hand back and forth.

“Oh yeah, let's see you do better,” you said tauntingly.

“Watch a master at work,” Gaz stated. You all waited for his outfit choice. When he stepped out you almost died of laughter. Tassels, tassels and fringe everywhere. On his head sat a bright red Tom Mix hat.

“What you don't think it's good?” he asked jokingly. 

“You look like you'll fly away in a light breeze,” Jonny joked.

“Eat shit soap,” Gaz flipped him off.

“Nah, I'll show you how it's done,” Jonny spoke up. Yells of shock sounded from you all as he walked out in a pair of assless chaps. Only they weren't assless. In fact you saw a lot of ass due to the fact that Jonny only wore the chaps. Nothing else. He held a small bowler's hat in front of his privates as he pretended to act confused. He turned around, giving you a clear view of his rosy red cheeks.

“Fucken hell,” you chuckled, tipping your hat down to cover your gaze.

“You know, I don't think I put these on in the right order,” he stated. Even the Price cracked a chuckle or two.

“Might get a rash ridding a saddle like that,” Ghost stated.

“I like it,” you said. Jonny gave you a wink.

“Come on Captain,” Jonny encouraged Price when his ass was contained again. 

Price walked out in a good pairing. A deep red button up, a pair of jeans, some lovely light brown boots, a light brown fleece jacket and a white brick shaped hat. 

“Captain my captain,” You whistled.

“Where did you find that fashion sense cap?” Ghost asked.

“Quiet you,” Price warned playfully.

“You know those videos where a baby sees their dad with their beard shaved for the first time and they just break out crying,” You asked. Jonny hummed in acknowledgment.

“I feel like that with that hat he's wearing,” you whispered. Jonny chuckled.

“Alright Ghost your turn,” Jonny said slapping Ghost shoulder. Ghost slowly moved his eyes from the captain to Jonny daring him to hit him again.

“Alright, be that way grumpy,” Jonny muttered. “Guess it's my turn again,” he stated. With your help, Jonny walked out in a tight black long sleeve shirt, a denim jacket and jeans. Black boots and a brown rolled brim with a puncher crown. He looked alright apart from the obviously large belt buckle he wore. A picture of a bulls head engraved on it.

“Compensating?” you asked, nodding to the buckle, getting a bird flipped to you.

“At least his ass is covered this time,” Ghost grumbled. Gaz tried again, deciding on a cowboy version of a lumberjack. Plated shirt with a vest jacket, a dark blue pair of jenes and a black version of his original hat. 

“Careful Gaz, that shirt looks a little tight,” Jonny called.

“That's the point,” Gaz stated with a smirk flexing his biceps.

“They can try all they want. The look of a cowboy is something that comes naturally. A look, ma’am that if you'll let me say looks extremely good on you,” Arthur leaned down to whisper to you. You smirked, shrugging.

“I don't know, I think they're pulling it off,” you stated. You chuckled as Gaz tried to perform his best cowboy walk. Hand on his belt and slaughtering forward before making a gun motion with his hand. And Jonny, who pretended to slow motion, to doge said bullets.

“Yeah sure,” Arthur muttered, making you chuckle harder. As you continued to watch Gaz and Jonny make a fool of themselves, you failed to notice a certain pair of eyes set on you. 

“Careful Lieutenant, you glare any harder and he might just get the message,” Price smirked as he saw the slightly pissed expression hidden behind the skull mask.

“Don't know what you mean, sir,” Ghost grumbled before walking away. 

Noticing Ghost's missing presence, you went to look for him, finding him in front of the many hats on display.

“Having trouble choosing?” You asked, walking up to him.

“Any pointers?” he asked.

“Can't help you there. This was my uncle's hat. He lost it when I won a bet,” you said.

“But,” you trailed off, your eyes searching through the hats. You smiled, reaching out to grab one.

“Yeah, this one,” you said, placing it on his head. It was low and pinched a grayish black.

“Yeah, that suits you,” you stated simply with a satisfied nod before walking away. 

When you all returned to the ranch, Simon changed into his outfit. Black jeans, dark brown boots, a black leather jacket and dark grey button up. On his head sat the hat you chose, and he still wore his skull balaclava.

“Well hello handsome,” Jonny called as he walked out to you.

“Zip it Mc’tavish,” he grumbled. Jonny chuckled as he walked up to you. In the pen Arthur walked out a horse already saddled up. Spotting other ranchers gathering round to watch with eager grins, you quickly assessed what was happening. It was a bucking horse, or at least one they were trying to break.

“Alright, lesson one of being a cowboy. Staying on a horse that doesn't want you to stay on,” Arthur stated with a wide grin.

“Any volunteers?” he asked. You chuckled, shaking your head as Jonny raised his hand eagerly.

“Love the spirit scots, man. This here is Bessy,” Arthur said, gesturing him forward. You whipped your mouth as Jonny confidently made his way into the pen.

“Ello Bessy,” he smirked. 

“I'd say goodbye to your balls now Soap, while you have the chance,” you called out to him.

“Ah, away with ye. I'll be fine,” Jonny waved you off.

“He's gonna eat shit isn't he?” Ghost asked folding his arms over his chest.

“All five courses of it,” you chuckled, pulling yourself up to sit on the railings. 

“He has medical cover right?” you asked Price that only shock his head at his soldier stupidity.

“Alright Soap. hold on tight,” After Arthur gave him a basic run down and when Jonny was sat comfortable in the saddle did he stepped back.

“You're gonna set a timer, wanna make sure there is proof when I stay on longer than those bastards,” Jonny nodded back to you all, giving you a wide confident grin as the horse started to pad at the ground.

“Sure thing, champ,” Arthur grinned. “Go on, give her a kick,” he suggested casually, taking a few cautious steps back. 

“What like this?” Jonny asked, kicking his heels gently into her sides. 

You knew pigs couldn't fly, but Jonny sure could. One buck had the poor man was out of the saddle onto the horses ass, then the second buck had the man cartwheeling through the air before landing flat on his ass his legs split in front of him. You and Gaz was practically dying of laughter as Jonny rolled around in pain holding his manly jewels. After Jonny’s poor first display, the ranchers started to pass around bets. 

“Who's next?” Arthur asked, turning to you lot.

Gaz sat on the back of Bessy looking like he was about to shit himself.

“Ok what do I do?” he asked shakily.

“Hold on,” Arthur stated simply.

“I know that, but I don't know the first thing about horses. Do do I pat it?” he asked.

“Sure, it probably won't do you any good though,” Arthur shrugged walking back.

“Come on Gaz,” you called encouragingly.

“I changed my mind, I want to get down,” Gaz stated. As he shifted his weight in the saddle, Bessy fell into a fit. Bucking and kicking like crazy. Gaz lasted about four seconds before he was bucked off. 

“This is bullshit,” Gaz grumbled, limping back to you trying to remove the dirt from his mouth. 

“Are the betting on us?” Jonny asked nodding to the growing group.

“There ranchers, this is probably the best entertainment they've had all week,” you stated.

“Yeah well they should stop,” Gaz grumbled.

“Why? They're actually betting in your favor,” you lied.

“Really?” he asked with a small grin of hope.

“No,” you chuckled, shaking your head, Gaz's smile instantly falling.

“Your acting way too high and mighty or this,” Gaz stated.

“I think I'm acting the right amount of high and mighty for my skills,” You shrugged.

“Skills we haven't seen yet,” Gaz grumbled.

“I don't need to prove anything,” you shrugged.

“Well, if ye so confident in yourself lass. How bout a wee little bet?” Jonny asked.

“Depends on what it is,” you smirked. With the smirk Jonny already knew you accepted the bet. 

“If anyone of us can last longer than you, you owe us all a week of sick leave,” Jonny put the offer forward. In the military you need a doctor's note or your medic's permission to have a sick day. Which was practically impossible to get. You don't abuse your power but you didn't put up with their bullshit either. So they only ever got sick leave when they were actually sick. And not a man cold either, they had to actually be sick.

“And what do I get?” you asked.

“Bragging rights?” Jonny suggested.

“I'll settle for a picture of you in the outfit you rocked back at the shop,” you stated, pointing to him. Jonny grinned widely.

“Deal,” he said as you too shook on it. 

“You ready, boss?” Jonny asked, turning to Price.

“A week of sick leave, you said?” he asked, debating if he wanted to be a part of your shenanigans.

“Yes sir,” you nodded. 

“Right,” he muttered, pushing his hat further down on his head before slipping in the coral and shaking his jacket off his shoulders.

You had to give it to Price, he was pretty good. And he looked like he stepped right out of a cow boy movie. The mustache and the fit was just perfect. You sucked in a breath as he was thrown from the horse. Impressed cheers came from the others. He lasted almost ten seconds.

“Ghost?” Jonny suggested.

“I prefer to keep my balls unpopped,” Ghost grumbled.

“Guess that's me then,” You spoke up. Walking up to Bessy you smiled brushing her nose before walking round her to where Arthur stood.

“Need a hand?” he offered.

“Nah mate,” you said effortlessly, swinging yourself up onto the saddle and taking the reins in hand. The familiar creak of the leather saddle and the ruff feel of the reins was welcoming. You settled into the back of the saddle, leaning back slightly. You pressed your hat down far enough down your forehead that the only thing you saw was your hands and the horse's shoulder blades.

“Alright, lets fucking do this,” you whispered before gently kicking her. You leaned back as far as you could and pulled the reins tight as she bucked wildly. Your body was jerked about left and right back and forth, yet you held on. The boys had to admit they were impressed. The ranchers cheered as the seconds drew on. As you hit the thirty second mark you swore as the horse slammed up against the side of the railings. To avoid you leg getting crushed you lumped off, the force sending you flying over the fence, right into Arthur who just happened to be sitting stop it. The two of you hit the ground in a cloud of dust. A relatively soft fall for you due to you landing on the cowboy.

“Fuck you alright?” You asked as you quickly hopped off the poor man.

“Look at that, falling for you already,” he groaned, painfully accepting your hand to help him up.

“That line usually work?” you asked with a small smile. You had to admit he was kinda cute.

“Well I don't usually have pretty women tackling me off the fence but here we are,” he said. You chuckled, shaking your head picking up your hat.

“How long was that Jonny!?” You yelled across the coral.

“Too fucking long!” he yelled back. You grinned smugly making your way back over to the boys.

Gaz and Jonny were adamant on getting those sick days. Price opted in for a few more tries, coming only four seconds from your record before he called it quits.

“Not gonna have a go Ghost?” you asked nudging his side.

“Risk getting hurt before the mission, not likely,” he stated as you watched Jonny narrowly avoid a broken bone. 

“Fair enough,” you muttered. The boys could not beat your best. With bruised bodies and prides you all retired to your a few spar rooms in the bunkhouse.

The next morning, you all gathered before dawn. Arthur said you were gonna learn how to ride. The boys walking a bit slower than they usually would. You were all assigned horses. Ghost and Price and Gaz were going well after some instruction. And Jonny. Well let's just say he wasn't built to ride horses. He just couldn't wrap his head around it. Loud laughs sounded as the horse started to trot slightly, sending your little scotsman's bouncing rapidly in his saddle.

“Fu-Uck En H-EL-LL,” he said through bounces as his head bobbled around. You rode up to him gently pulling on the rains to get the horse to slow down.

“Come on Mate. your ancestors road these guys into battle,” You said.

“Nah, these are American horses. If it was a scottish horse I would be grand,” he stated definitely. Amused by his logic, you just shook your head. To your surprise, Simon pulled up on the other side of Jonny. “Having a bit of trouble there?” Ghost asked smuggle. “Fuck Ye LT,” Jonny grunted, trying to glare only for him to slid sideways in the saddle. You reached out holding his jacket to keep him steady as he readjusted. Ghost smirked before trotting forward. You rode up to his side looking over his posture, one hand resting on his thigh, the other holding both the reins. 

“You’ve done this before,” you stated.

“When I was a kid,” he muttered.

“It shows, You're a natural,” you said.

“Not as good as you,” he said.

“Oh stop it, you'll make me blush,” you grinned. He glanced over at your smile, grunting in response.

“So this is your dream, huh?” he asked. Your grin turned into a fond smile.

“Yeah. I want a nice plot of land in the tablelands,” you stated.

“Table lands?” Ghost asked.

“I'll admit you guys have some nice green pastures in England. But the tablelands. Man, it's something different altogether. Rolling green hills right out of a picture book. It's high up, lots of rain, and rainforests. Fog will roll over the hills in the cold mornings and arvos. I'll have five horses, shit ton of chickens and cows. Maybe a goat or two,” your shrugged. “Two dogs. One working kelpie and and little staffy,” you continued.

“A big old cottage that I built myself. Oh, it's gotta have a basement. Definitely a secret passage. Maybe a fake skeleton chucked in there.” your words had Simon smiling as his eyes settled on you. Settled on the sparkle of your eyes as you described it all.

“Oh and there will be this big ol tree. If I have a family I'll string it up with fairy lights and lanterns. I'll invite you boys round for week long adventures. Big ol fire place next to it,” you reminisce of a life that you possibly might never get to live. After all, your job wasn't necessarily safe.

“Oh so I’m a part of this future huh?” he asked. The instant your gaze turned to him he realized what he said. His face flushed as your smile became impossibly brighter.

“Of course,” you stated simply. Only when you did think of all those things you left out one key part. Whenever you thought about your future, the annoying prick in front of you would pop into the frame. Helping you build the cottage. Putting one of his masks on the fake skeletons. Him in the tree hanging up the lights. Him sitting next to you around the roaring fire. Clearing his throat his face flushed deeply as he looked back to the path in front of you. You didn't see the flush though. You simply saw him avoiding your gaze. For a moment, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He thought it was the only explanation for his rapid heartbeat.

“Were going for a run care to join?” Arthur called back to you.

“Sure,” you called back. 

“So you ready to show me just how good you are?” You leaned over to Ghost with a taunting

“Perhaps,” he grunted.

“First one to the tree up on that ridge,” you suggested.

“Are we betting anything?” he asked.

“Bragging rights?” you shrugged. “On three?” you suggested.

“Alright, three,” he stated kicking his horse into a gallop. An excited grin stretched across your face as you did the same. The cantering group let out exclamations of surprise as you two zoomed past them in a full gallop. Even with his headstart you quickly caught up to him. Riding would forever feel different to everything in your life. It felt like flying, but so much more magical. As you were neck and neck you looked over to Ghost who looked to you. With a wink, you dropped the reins, opening your arms out as the horse pulled forward. You won by just an inch. 

The next day it was game time. You were strapped up and dressed up for your rodeo. You left a little earlier than the boys. You were hanging around beer in hand playing the part as Arthur introduced you to a few people. Chucking your watch you glanced at the time.

“They should be here by now,” you muttered.

“Speak of the devils,” Arthur muttered nodding behind you. A low whistle left your lips as you took them in.

As everyone took them in. Women, buckle bunnies and men had their eyes set on the group. They looked like a master piece of hot manliness. And you had to admit they looked good enough to have anyone's panties dropped with just a word. There boots kicking up dust as they strutted through the crowd. You swore the music was perfect of their entrance, looking like a scene out of a movie.

“Boys,” you nodded to them as they approached.

“Anna,” Price nodded to you. Your cover name for the mission.

“Come on, I've got to introduce you to someone,” Arthur stated beckoning you all over. You sucked in a small breath as he took you all to the target. 

“Tommy,” Arthur greeted the man like old friends.

“Arthur, how are you, my boy?” he asked. He was an older man, a true cowboy.

“Good Good,” Arthur nodded as they embraced.

“So you're the one Arthurs has been speaking about. You should know outsiders aren't usually welcome here,” the target stated as he turned to you.

“What scared of the challenge?” you asked with a teasing smile. The man paused a beat before breaking out into laughter.

“She's a spunk fire all right. Name’s Tom, everyone calls me Tommy,” he greeted holding his hand out to you.

“Anna,” you introduced yourself.

“Anna, you dont look like an Anna,” he said.

“Oh yeah, what do I look like?” you asked.

“Some real classy name. Like Evangeline or somethin,” he stated.

“Well, you certainly look like a Tommy,” you said.

“Why thank you ma’am,” he tipped his hat to you.

“And who are these fellas?” he asked turning to the boys.

“I'm her manager, Cole,” Price introduced himself. “These boys are on the team,” he stated, pointing to the rest who gave nods.

“I see, well fellas I'll see you out there,” he stated giving you another nod before walking off.

“So we grabbing him?” Jonny asked.

“To many people here,” Price mumbled.

“After the main event you'll have your chance, that's when he goes home,” Arthur said. You nodded, glancing around you. Fancy profession buckers were walking all round you. 

“Nervous Darling?” Arthur asked. The boys gaze snapped to him, some pissed of some surprised. The way American men say darling is just something different.

“I'm about to strap myself to a state of the art bucking horse. Of corse im fucking nervous,” you muttered.

“Don't worry. Come on, there are some other events before. Let's get you warmed up,” he stated. You needed to keep your mind occupied, so you agreed. Steer wrestling and roping was your go to. You didn't place first in anything but you didn't do too bad. The boys looked at you in a different light as you rode beside a young bull, jumping off your horse to wrestle it to the ground, flipping it over and tying its legs up. 

“God damn,” Jonny whispered as you stood to your feet holding your hands in the air.

“She's good, really good,” Arthur stated as he stood by the boys.

“That's our girl,” Price stated simply.

“So, what are you lot to her?” he asked.

“What?” Gaz asked squinting at the man.

“You lot seem real close. I know you're a team but I don't want to step on anyone's toes, I'm a gentle man like that,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean step on anyone's toes?” Price asked, his arms folding over his chest taking on the protective dad stance.

“Look if she's spoken for I'll back off. But I don't see no ring, and she calls you all by name. No pet names,” Arthur trailed off before turning to Ghost.

“So I guess im asking what are you to her,” the question was pointed at Ghost the boys quickly catching on. Ghost turned fully to him tucking his hand under his arm pits where his guns sat, hidden by his jacket. Although he made a point to let the smooth metal peek out.

“I'm the guy that fucks you up seven ways to Sunday if you hurt her,” his voice was deathly low, shaking Arthur up a bit. Yet it was Simon's glare that had the man really scared. 

But he also got the answer he wanted.

“So she's available?” Arthur pointed out with a grin.

================================================

=Cowboys and Men = Part Two here=

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~COD Master List Here~

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[lovergirl-brainrot]

Deal Makers and Deal Breakers in a Relationship with (some of) the Straw Hats

I'm honestly not very far into One Piece but I already can't stop thinking about it, so if this is inaccurate to something that happens way further in the series then I'm so sorry, bestie.

Some things that I think are major positives and major draw backs in a relationship with Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Nami, and Usopp that could make or break a relationship depending on your tastes.

Fem reader, one minor NSFW mention in Luffy's

𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒿𝒾

Deal Maker

He's so romantic in the traditional sense. Sanji is the flowers on every date, breakfast in bed, long walks on the beach kind of boyfriend. You guys could be married for 50 years and he'll still be thinking of ways to impress you because he's so deeply in love.

Deal Breaker

He does not stop flirting with other women. He'll do it right in front of you and not think twice about it. You're the girl he wants to devote his life to, but it's hard to believe sometimes when he still throws himself at any hot woman he sees. But if you try to flirt with other people, he is seething. He's so jealous that it makes him sick.

𝓩𝓸𝓻𝓸

Deal Maker

He is so devoted and it shows in every aspect of your relationship. There is not a single thing he wouldn't do for you. Fight for you, move heavy objects, carry you back to the ship if your feet get tired... He wouldn't admit it if you held a gun to his head, but he loves to be of service to you. He likes to feel needed. If you ask him to do something and he doesn't know how, he will figure it out by any means necessary.

Deal Breaker

Does not take your feelings as seriously as he should. If you're upset about something minor and he sees you pouting he'll tell you to stop complaining about it. He thinks it's good for you. In his mind it encourages strength and discipline. He also refuses to communicate with you if he thinks you have an attitude. He shuts you down because he doesn't want to argue with you.

𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓲

Deal Maker

She is so open and honest with you. She makes it clear that you can go to her for absolutely anything. She's not afraid to tell you what she thinks but never does it with the intention of hurting you. She is a full believer that shared joy is a double joy and shared sorrow is half a sorrow. If you need advice, a reminder of how much you're loved, or someone to talk shit with, you always want to turn to Nami first.

Deal Breaker

Nothing, she's perfect. I love women.

But in all seriousness, she has a hard time sharing. She does not believe in the idea of "what's mine is yours." She doesn't like to share no matter what it is. Food, clothes, money... You name it.

𝓤𝓼𝓸𝓹𝓹

Deal Maker

He'll do anything to make you laugh, even if it means embarrassing himself. Your smile makes his heart stop, so he works HARD to keep it on your face. If you need someone to cheer you up after crying, Usopp is the man for the job. He tells you stories that are obviously fake but he'll never stop because those make you laugh too. He's good at lifting your spirits even in the most dire of circumstances. He'll bury his own feelings that the crew isn't making it out of this one alive to reassure you and make you feel better.

Deal Breaker

He can be so insensitive at times. He never wants to hurt you, but he can be just as good at putting you down as he is at lifting you up. He wants so badly to impress others and seem cool that the stories he tells to others will make you out to be worse than you are so he can make himself look good in comparison. He'll make jokes at your expense, even if he knows it's something you're insecure about. Usopp will intentionally exclude you from some things and he doesn't understand why it's a problem. He gossips about the crew with Nami but refuses to let you in on it.

𝓛𝓾𝓯𝓯𝔂

Deal Maker

He's very fun to be around. He always wants you to have a good time. He's easy to be with and he keeps your life exciting. You're the first person he invites when he wants to do something he thinks will be fun. At restaurants he excitedly says "this is really good, you should try it" and offers you some of his food. Every morning he asks what you're doing that day so he can come along and make it more enjoyable.

Deal Breaker

He has absolutely no filter. Luffy doesn't tend to think before he speaks so he is honest to a fault. He'll tell you exactly what's on his mind, but doesn't try to say it with tact or empathy in the way that Nami does. That means pointing out your insecurities, telling strangers about your sex life, telling the rest of the crew all of the details they have no business knowing when you're in the middle of an argument, etc.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Back to you

(Post-War) Cooper Howard x GN! Reader

Summary: Splitting from the ghoul bounty hunter just for him to appear again, just like last time.

Warnings: Argument, Guns, Held at gunpoint, Blood, Violence, Slight Soft Cooper

Dragging along through the barren desert, hearing the continuous sound of Cooper's gun hitting his leg, not resting for hours with the sun eating away at your skin, slowly losing your shit only a few feet away from him. 

Finally, your knees gave out, plating you on the ground, the thump drawing the attention of the ghoul, who stopped just to sigh. "Come on, get up," he says flatly, anger bubbling. "I can't" is all you could say with a dry throat. 

"Get up, or I'm leaving ya" He responds more sternly, annoyed at his uncaring tone, snapping back, "Then leave!" watching as he turned around without another word and did just that. 

Cooper knew your limit for more than a year, yet he ignored it, at times leaving you dehydrated or in the heat for days, all from forgetting human needs. Swearing under your breath at times, it was on purpose to always have to rely on him.

Watching as he slowly disappeared in the distance with the sun starting to set, allowing you to get up to find shelter, parting your ways with the ghoul. Having fought a few days before over a deal gone wrong, blaming you of course, but swearing his gun went off first. The fight being one of many breaking points. 

Coming upon a still-standing house, making your way in ready to shoot at anything that moved, luckily only a few radroaches sprang up, leaving you to relax. The house looked as if it was trapped in time, as if not one person had been in it since. Shaking off that eerie fact before laying down on the stiff couch, needing to rest only for a moment, making sure to keep your gun close. 

Waking to the feeling of cold metal pressed against your head, opening your eyes to a man covered in dirt in blood. Definitely from the wasteland. "Get up," he says, anger filling his tone, doing so slowly with arms raised. A crashing boom pulled the moment's tenseness to the front door.

"He's not here," the new man says, causing the other to look back over to you. "Where's the ghoul?" asking with the same angered voice. "Who?" you answer, pulling off the best-confused face you could manage. 

Not having any of it, he pistol whips you, face turned, he asks you again. "Maybe they don't know," the other man says, interrupting the interrogation. Having his attention drawn away again, you grab his gun fighting for it, keeping it pointed away from you while trying to pry it away. 

Losing the fight as he pulled the trigger, paining your ears, hearing only rigging while being pushed to the ground with a kick. Watching through blurred vision, his mouth moves with no sound, only the sight of the gun being pointed at you once again, then his head being blown apart. 

Feeling footsteps against the wooden floor that had now been covered in brain matter before being peeled from it and out the door. Taking a peek at your savior, seeing a familiar cowboy hat and stern face, a smile grew on your face, knowing once again he had come back to you.

Making it to the small camp that had been not too far from where you were abandoned just before sunrise, sitting on a worn pullout chair close to him, still smiling like an idiot. "I knew you'd come back for me," you say, watching a smile appear on his face in the darkness.

"Heard a gunshot it sounded like fun, darling, that's all." He tries to play it off, but you continue, "Whatever helps you sleep, Coop." Having traveled with him for so long, having many fights, then splitting up just for him to show back up every time as if he couldn't help coming back to you.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @emoguardian

[skeletoninthemelonland]

Hunter in the biggest cowboy hat and boots you can draw

you bet he can't see shit

[my-insanity-is-an-artform]

Woe, Crack Baby Shitten au be upon thee.

(@bamsara 's little doodle of Nari being dubbed Cult Babysitter and holding a little lamb irrevocably changed my brain chemistry. So of course, I'm now making it everyone else's problem with the headcanon that Narinder is good with children of all ages.)

A couple of months before Lamb gets captured, they meet another lamb or a very small flock that have to split up very quickly after meeting since there's more chance of the lamb species surviving if they aren't all together. In the meeting, Lamb agrees to try continue the lamb species and gets pregnant via *magic* or afab.

Of course, all of the lambs are captured and killed with Lamb being the last, still a few months away from giving birth.

But then they are chosen and resurrected by The One Who Waits.

Fun fact: a fetus can survive for a few minutes after the death of the carrier. (Also this is a world with magic and gods in it. Logic means nothing to me.)

Lamb starts their cult, crusades across the lands and meets all sorts of allies and enemies. All while quietly mourning their entire species and the child that never would be.

Right up until they go into labour.

The baby is lamb through and through with soft wool, wide eyes, tiny cloven hooves and floppy ears.

But the influence of the crown is blazingly obvious since the baby's wool is jet black and they have three red eyes.

I can't tell which would be funnier. Lamb giving birth in The Lonely Shack or while they are physically in The Gateway just post-beating Leshy. Like they were in active labour right throughout fighting Leshy and had no idea. Either way, it's Shocked Pikachu .jpeg all around. (My fucking KINGDOM for a doodle of this.)

Various dot point shenanigans under the cut

There are two ways to go about this. But either way, Baby is not staying in the Cult. Too dangerous, especially if word gets to the Bishops about there being another lamb. So Lamb can and will speed-run this shit. So it takes them about 4-6 years to fully defeat the Bishops.

Baby stays with Ratau:

Lamb goes and yells at TOWW. They are panicking because they have no idea how to raise a probably-half-god baby.

Narinder has no idea what happened right up until Lamb comes in screaming about him being a Baby Daddy and child support.

Ratau is Grandpa now. This is his fate. He embraces the Grandpa life.

Baby learns how to play knucklebones before they can speak.

Shrumy tries to wager with Lamb/Ratau for the whole Baby. Once and only Once.

Baby's first word is dice. Or die.

Baby worships TOWW, but they are a Baby and don't really comprehend worship so the small shrine gets a lot of flowers, neat rocks and some drawings. Narinder always gives a lot of gold for them. And No, it's not favouritism. Shut up.

Baby knows curses. This is concerning for everyone except Baby.

Baby gets a little TOWW doll. It's their favourite, it goes everywhere with them and washing it is a nightmare for everyone involved.

Baby is jokingly referred to as TOWW's most Devoted Follower because of the doll.

↑ this action will have consequences.

When Baby is not so baby, they make stuff out of their wool for TOWW and for his disciples. Or asks their parent to help them make stuff.

Cue Lamb awkwardly giving the three some very wonky scarves or hats.

Baal loves it.

Aym refuses to take his off. Ever.

Narinder is actually upset cause his doesn't fit. He's too big. He had to wear it like a little ring.

Or Baby stays/is brought to the Gateway ala Aym and Baal situation:

If Lamb gives birth in the Gateway, everyone is getting a free midwifery education and free trauma. The cats want a refund.

Ya know when a baby instinctively clasps their little hand around a finger and it's like a crime to pull away? That but with Narinder's big ass claw that Baby can only barely cling to.

Aym cries the first time he holds Baby.

Baal straight-up refuses to give Baby back for a good hour.

Lamb visits at least once a day.

Lamb also brings baby things since a baby will do what a baby will do.

Depending on how old Aym and Baal were when they were gifted, Narinder is either learning all of this for the first time or is reminded of how challenging baby care can be.

Narinder purrs = a zonked Baby.

Baby's first word is Vessel.

Baby is taught to fight. Lamb doesn't like it but accepts it.

Baby has a little lamb doll. It is only due to the fact the afterlife doesn't have dirt that they avoid the nightmare of trying to wash it.

Baby is jokingly referred to as TOWW's most Devoted Follower since they refuse to be parted with him for long.

↑ this action will have consequences.

Lamb teaches Baby about being a lamb and if Aym and Baal join in, well who are they to deny their child's only friends/guardians this?

Narinder and Lamb figure out how to get Baby to teleport to the Living World and Baby gets to visit Grandpa Ratau.

Post-game shenanigans.

Narinder: Give me back my crown. Lamb: Ok. Sure. Narinder: I will now sacrifice my most devoted follower (the Lamb) for my freedom. Lamb: *Kill Bill sirens*

Lamb somehow doesn't kill Aym and Baal and instead kidnaps them via Indoctrination Circle out of spite/ reluctance to hurt them.

Narinder feels betrayed that the Lamb would refuse like this and kidnap his acolytes. He was going to resurrect them! He can't fully commit to raising a child while being the God of Death.

Lamb feels betrayed that Narinder would want to kill their child. After all they've been through together! After the way they saw him treat Baby with such gentleness and now he wants to kill them?!

This comes out in the very final moments right before Lamb goes to give the final blow.

Narinder: You are a vengeful false idol and a traitor! Lamb: At least I'm not a monster who wanted to kill my own child! Narinder: Wait. What.

This devolves into a massive argument with divorced-couple vibes.

Narinder is insulted and a bit hurt they thought he would kill his own child.

Lamb is hurt that Narinder would just demand their sacrifice without even talking to them about the whole situation.

Either way the lesson learned is Narinder needs to be more blunt and Lamb needs to not jump to conclusions.

So they are left with a newly usurped Narinder and a newly crowned Lamb. Oops.

Baby is with Ratau when all of this is going down.

Baby is happy their family is all together properly. Baby is Not Happy about this whole cult thing demanding attention from Their Baba.

The Cult is baffled by the sight of their leader with both a baby and a Spouse? Bitterly Divorced Ex? Estranged Co-parent?! What ever it is, most of them have elected not to touch the whole situation with a 10ft barge pole.

Baby learns what the word Father is and how that word refers to Narinder.

Baby calls Narinder Father/Papa/Daddy. Instant KO.

Narinder somehow gains a small hoard of children that like to follow him. Baby Does Not Approve.

Baby also Does Not Approve of this newly formed rift between their parents.

Cue Parent Trap level of Shenanigans.

Aym and Baal are recruited.

The Hoard of Children are recruited. Baby now Slightly Approves.

Narinder and Lamb have an Actual Conversation after the 18th time they get locked in the confessional together.

This of course evolves into Narilamb.

Bishops are saved from purgatory.

Despite all attempts otherwise, Baby is introduced to them.

Shocked Pikachu .jpeg x4

Maybe after a few more years, not-so-baby Baby wants a sibling.

This got so much longer than I thought but yes. Shitten Shenanigans: Accidental Child Acquisition flavoured.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: A prince and a pirate meet in a bar...

For Spiderbit Week Day One: Pirates

-

Las Casualonas used to be a smaller building, Roier thinks. More smoke, less space. More room for dancing, less room for goddamn swordfighting.

Roier watches passively as yet another pirate-wannabe gets thrown out of the building. He sips at his (terrible) beer, fingers idly drumming the table in a neat rhythm.

The loser's sword- a pitiful little thing with more holes than a slice of cheese- gets thrown out after them by the winner: a tall woman with white-blonde hair and a big floppy hat.

"Better luck next time!" she taunts. She laughs, loud and harsh and very pirate-y, and turns right on the heel of her boot to head back to the bar to order a round of celebratory drinks for her crew.

The sword on her belt shines dully in the dim tavern light, blood spattered across its blade.

Roier... considers. She's tough. She has a crew of tough-looking people- Roier watched them cheer her on during the fight, and he can see them surrounding her at the bar now with claps on the back and laughter. She has a nice sword. She has a big hat. She has to be a pirate, right?

But. But she just isn't right. She isn't the one he's looking for.

And so Roier turns his attention from the woman and back to the tavern as a whole. Back to the drawing board...

Pirates.

Oh, pirates.

There's a new law against piracy in the kingdom now. There's also a new pirate in the kingdom- or, rather, from the kingdom.

Coincidence? No. The new law was created within days of the Bear Captain's attempted assassination of the royal family's oldest child, and the Bear Captain hasn't been seen since the law was put into place.

This is a problem, because Roier wants the Bear Captain dead. He wants him more than dead, actually, but there are laws against torture these days, too. (UGH!)

And so Roier sips his (terrible) beer in Las Casualonas' most secluded table. He wants a pirate, but he wants a certain kind of pirate. One that will seek him out, not one who jumps onto tables and stabs a guy (though that is pretty cool, can't lie.)

The hood of Roier's cloak is pulled over his head. He's wearing gloves. He's in all-black, and he has a sword on his belt and two knives up his sleeves and another knife hidden in his boot.

His eyeliner is black, and that's all that matters, isn't it.

The woman and her crew leave the bar and head to a table across the tavern: out of sight, and now out of mind.

Roier sighs and looks down at his reflection in his beer. His eyeliner is smudged, ugh. He'll have to touch it up soon; he might be emo now, but he has standards.

His reflection blinks up at him: black eye and healing lip and broken nose. He looks pirate-y, right? Suitably criminal?

He tries a smile. Fails. Sighs again.

Flinches slightly as the chair across from him is roughly pulled out.

"Shit, my bad," he hears. Deep voice, kind of raspy as if he'd just been yelling.

Roier looks up from his drink and locks eyes with a stranger.

Roier... considers. Broad shoulders, some visible muscles, but not many. Solid figure and large, scarred hands. Short hair, scar across nose, golden earrings, bags under eyes, healing broken nose.

Rapier on his hip, and a pair of flintlock pistols hidden beneath his heavy-looking green coat.

Pirate, Roier thinks.

The pirate sits and immediately leans back into his chair with a groan and a slump, his face burying itself in his hands. He has rings on every one of his fingers, and they're shiny. Gold and silver and gold.

"Sorry if I'm intruding," the pirate sighs. "It's just... so much over there."

He doesn't point, but Roier's eyes go over the pirate's shoulder and towards the group of pirates the woman has at her table. (Is he one of them...?)

Roier shrugs. "It's fine."

(Because it is.)

"I was hoping for some company, anyway," he adds.

(Because he was.)

"Really?" the pirate asks, cracking his fingers apart and looking through the gap. He doesn't sound convinced. "You look..."

"Handsome?" Roier supplies.

"Yeah, but I was going to say, 'emo'."

Roier laughs. He can't help it. (He hasn't laughed since it happened, and it tears his throat up a little, but he almost can't feel the sting.)

Leaning forward slightly, Roier braces himself with his elbows against the table. He tries a smile, and he even sort of succeeds.

"Maybe I am," he hums. "But even emo guys have shiny things. Here."

He manages to smile a bit wider as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shiny gold piece. He places it on the table and slides it across, his fingers lingering as the pirate snatches the gold piece up.

Both hands turning the gold piece over, and suddenly so much more attentive, the pirate frowns: contemplative.

"Okay," he cautiously says. He looks up and furrows his eyebrows at Roier. "What do you want."

Roier's fingers tap against the table.

"Eh, not much," he shrugs. "Just tell me what you know about the Bear Captain."

The pirate snorts and looks back down at the gold piece; his eyes are practically shining like stars, and it's really actually kind of adorable, actually.

"Who, Spreen?" he casually asks, not noticing the way Roier's entire body freezes up at the name. "He's new in the area. Not much of a captain. He doesn't even have any treasure."

Roier gasps dramatically. "Oh my God, he doesn't have any treasure!"

"Fuck you, treasure is important," the pirate huffs. "Who becomes a pirate for fun? It's all about the treasure."

He pauses, then: "Or... it's all about the killing."

Absently, Roier reaches up and scratches at his chest. The rough fabric of his shirt does not feel good under his nails, but he hardly notices.

The pirate looks back at Roier, eyes narrowed just slightly.

"Which are you?" he asks.

Roier hums, feigning confusion.

"Which kind of pirate are you?" the pirate asks. "Treasure, or killing?"

There's a pistol and a bag of ammunition in Roier's satchel at his feet, but he answers, scoffing, "Treasure, obviously? Do I look like a killer?"

He gestures towards himself with a painted grin. His scar just barely pokes out above the collar of his shirt, and so do the bandages plastered over his shoulder wound.

The pirate... considers.

Then, he smiles and looks back down at his new gold piece.

"You're right," he says. "And you're smart. Like I said, it's all about the treasure. Who needs to kill to get money when you can just steal it?"

He flips the gold piece into the air, and he grabs it mid-fall. He opens his palm, and... nothing.

He meets Roier's surprised gaze with a cheeky grin.

"But if you want someone dead, you're talking to the right guy," he says. "I'd have to talk it over with my co-captain, but-"

"Your co-captain?" Roier asks.

At the same time, the woman from earlier stands and cups a hand around her mouth and shouts, "Cellbit! Stop flirting and get over here! Tubbo's going to do a backflip!"

The pirate- Cellbit?- just rolls his eyes and flips her off without looking.

"Her," he says, voice just short of a sneer. "I'm down to kill whoever you want dead, but she'll be a bit harder to convince."

"Ah," says Roier.

He's still smiling, but it doesn't seem to be reaching Cellbit's eyes anymore.

Reaching forward, leaning across the table, Cellbit brushes a hand behind Roier's ear; Roier bites back a gasp, a shiver running down his spine.

As Cellbit sits back down, he holds up the missing gold piece. He flicks his wrist, and another gold piece slides out from behind the first one.

"She doesn't do it for the gold," he explains. He drops the coins onto the table, watching them roll into each other. "She has morals."

Roier frowns. "Is she even a pirate?"

"No, but I am, and so is half our crew. She prefers the term 'boat mafia'. But, anyway, let me finish here."

Cellbit reaches into Roier's cup and pulls out a third gold piece, placing it neatly onto the table near the other two.

"If someone was to come onto the ship and, say, kill the Bear Captain without Bagi's approval..."

He slides his gaze up to meet Roier's, smirking slightly.

(His eyes are so blue, Roier thinks. Just like the ocean...)

Roier finds himself smiling, genuine.

He nods. "I get it."

"Good. Now, let's go join the others so we can-"

Cellbit is cut off mid-sentence as Las Casualonas' doors crash open and a legion of armed guards come storming into the tavern.

Roier folds into himself, pulling his hood further down his face. (He was supposed to have more time, what the fuck?)

"Everybody, stop what you are doing!" Etoiles, the head of security for the royal family, commands.

The woman, Cellbit's co-captain, slowly turns to face him.

"Um," she says, "no? Who the fuck are you?"

"Who the fuck are you!" Etoiles counters. "Are you a pirate?"

"Technically, no."

"Oh, well that's alright, then. But everyone else!" He pulls his sword out and points it at the rest of the tavern. "Put your hands up where I can see them! Princess Leonarda has informed me that her cringe brother is being held captive in here- which is totally embarrassing, by the way, total rookie move from him, and I am not leaving without him!"

Cellbit looks at Roier.

Roier looks at Etoiles.

Etoiles looks at the barkeep.

Roier looks back at Cellbit.

"Kidnap me," he whispers. "I'll have you and your entire crew pardoned when Spreen is dead."

Without hesitation, Cellbit stands and kicks his chair backwards and turns and pulls both pistols out of their holsters and points them both right at Etoiles' heart.

"Cellbit!" the woman hisses. "We are not doing this again!"

Cellbit ignores her and says, voice low, "The prince is not going anywhere. He's coming with me."

"Okay, those two sentences contradict each other, but that's fine!" Etoiles says. "I may not be good at grammar, but I am much better at killing pirates. Are you ready?"

Slowly, Roier wraps his hand around his bag's strap under the table. He's beaten Etoiles once before, sure, he can do it again. Probably. Maybe. (Not in his condition, not now when he's still supposed to be under bedrest, but...!)

"Get ready to run, your highness," is all that Cellbit says in response.

He glances back at Roier, winks.

And then he pulls the trigger, the tavern explodes.