#I think Calico Jack could fix him actually

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

https://tiermaker.com/create/our-flag-means-death-shipps-15253051

There is something deeply wrong with me. Fortunately that thing is not Izzy Hands related.

[kaelleid]

Izzy Fic Recs (June 26-July 2nd)

My favorite of the Izzy fics that I read the week of June 26-July 2nd. See other weeks here.

Our Flag Means Parent Trap by idiopathicsmile (Ed/Stede)

Izzy realizes the error of his ways and decides the only way to fix it is to work with Lucius and Jim to trick Ed and Stede into reuniting. Featuring a bonus Frenchie, several dubious schemes, and a brush with what is definitely either a primordial goddess of the deep, or a hallucination of a seacow.

you steal my breath away by ChangeTheCircumstances (Izzy/Frenchie)

Something is clearly off about Izzy, but when Frenchie sees him petting a cat, it finally clicks. Izzy is a fucking witch! In order to protect the crew, Frenchie makes the next obvious step in logic: he has to kill him.

Blood in the Shoe by sweatervest (Ed/Izzy)

“Read me a story, Izzy,” Blackbeard says, his right elbow digging into the arm of the couch. His arm sways idly, and the tattooed snake looks almost real in the half-shadow of the cabin.

The Nook is for Talking Shit by NonTimereTenebrous (Stede/Izzy)

Calico Jack is visiting again. This time Stede is determined not to be roped into the fray, and he's not the only one who's found the perfect place to hide.

that our stars should divide by nasri (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

Izzy is fifteen years old and he’s used to the sound of children crying. He could never quite escape it in the workhouse, even after they threatened kids with a switch to the back if they were caught at it often enough. But the boy he finds tucked into the base of an oak tree isn’t an orphan or a child from the streets. He’s a little boy in men’s clothing, tailored silk and linen, pale with ruddy cheeks and red marks around his wrists...

I Need You Here by Lydia_Eve (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

“You see, I think Edward misses you very much,” Bonnet says softly...

Helplessly Hoping by finefeatheredfriend (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

Izzy finds himself fired from The Revenge and is left to fend for himself, only to be caught for crimes he committed on Blackbeard's behalf. His treatment aboard a privateer ship leaves him plenty of time to think about forgiving Stede for who he is, and come to terms with his feelings for Ed.

love like a dog on a leash by pukner (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

Sam Bellamy brings out the worst in Edward Teach, and vice versa. Izzy has no idea he's in the middle of the world's ugliest love triangle. It isn't even a triangle. Sam doesn't love him, and he doesn't love Sam. Izzy loves Ed, and Ed loves him, but that's not a good thing. Stede has only the barest idea of what's going on, but he's joining the triangle anyway.

Nothing Fades Like the Light by unpleasantdiversions (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

In which Stede Bonnet discovers his inner sadist, Izzy Hands discovers care & love as it fits him, and Ed gets to be as soft as he's ever wanted to be. Just not without a few scars along the way.

Under Your Spell by takupaku (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

The open sea was an ample place for brewing superstition. Pirates and sailors alike believed in just about anything; sirens, ghosts, the Kraken itself, and all sorts of bad omens like the shape of the clouds or the colour of sunrise. Izzy Hands had once thought himself above such beliefs, but his years in Blackbeard's service had quickly changed that. Blackbeard himself had changed that.

elegantly bound by alchemystique (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

Izzy Hands' loyalty is a rare enough commodity that only one person has ever actually managed to keep it. Ed doesn't know how to explain to Stede that Izzy might be trying to spread it out to two people. As if Stede would believe him anyway.

battle of the boyfriends by burning__bridges (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

Stede and Edward lose a few games of rock, paper, scissors and ending up competing to see who can seduce Izzy quickest. Izzy, understandably, quickly becomes utterly baffled with everyone's behaviour.

[sixstepsaway]

Because I'm always down for Izzy shipping options, I have decided to consider possibilities of Calico Jack/Izzy. On the one hand, I feel like Izzy probably experienced severe nausea just being in the same room with him. On the other hand, I'm nothing if not an enjoyer of enemies to lovers and opposites attracting. Assuming Jack isn't dead of course.

Of course that would involve trying to come up with a more elaborate psychology for Jack beyond "the worst person" , along with trying to figure out how on earth those two might compliment one another.

Jack is a genuinely skilled, cold-blooded manipulator, but is also somehow stupid. He's boisterous, but not as cool as Blackbeard at his most leather-clad. Izzy is kinda pathetic, likes rules, struggles holding his emotions (anger, mostly) in. There's no reason it should work, but that just encourages me to figure out how it could.

(Oh no. Oh yes. I realized If Izzy Hands and Calico Jack had a baby, it would totally be Revolver Ocelot from the Metal Gear series. This thought is so brilliant and horribly niche that I'm going to need to make a post about it later instead of working on my fanfic.)

This random thought is brought to you by contributions from viewers like you and also Izzy's DD Anon.

I-- I do not know where to start with this lmao. I don't know who Revolver Ocelot is and I'm afraid to go find out!

On the one hand, I feel like Izzy probably experienced severe nausea just being in the same room with him.

It was pointed out to me recently that Izzy clearly has enough respect for Jack to reach out to him, and Jack calls him sentimental in response, so ugh, they might even somehow like each other in some way???? Potentially?

But I also agree Izzy probably hates his guts

he can have multitudes!

Of course that would involve trying to come up with a more elaborate psychology for Jack beyond "the worst person" , along with trying to figure out how on earth those two might compliment one another.

Jack is irritating but I don't know if I see him as the worst person. He's very similar to the other characters in that he is a pirate and that makes him already objectively terrible just for the life he's ended up living (see: plundering, looting, pillaging, raiding, killing, maiming etc), and he's definitely manipulative (I think some people confuse him and Izzy when they accuse Izzy of that tbh lmao) but most of the atrocities he's joking about in 1x08 are actually Ed's atrocities, which is kind of funny to think about.

I honestly imagine the conversation with Jack went thus:

Izzy: I need your help Jack: What's in it for me, eh? Izzy: You owe me already for xyz, so it's time to pay up Jack: Ugh. Fine. What do you need, shortie? Izzy: Edward's been seduced by a poncey toff who has him wrapped around his gilded pinky. I need you to get him out of that situation so we can fix it, because right now he has about a year life expectancy on that ship with the toff captain who has no fucking idea how to captain a ship and who has already nearly gotten them all killed once. Jack: Well why can't you do it? Izzy: I was sent away, so I can't go back until this is fixed. And that means Edward is alone making poor decisions, and we know how that goes! Jack: Fuck. Okay, yeah.

Jack is a genuinely skilled, cold-blooded manipulator, but is also somehow stupid. He's boisterous, but not as cool as Blackbeard at his most leather-clad. Izzy is kinda pathetic, likes rules, struggles holding his emotions (anger, mostly) in. There's no reason it should work, but that just encourages me to figure out how it could.

I think I've seen a Jack/Izzy fic or two actually. I feel like Jack would complement Izzy by being erratic but not as erratic as Edward, willing to do whatever it takes in a way Edward is not, but needing a smart, intelligent person to help keep him from ending up mutinied on.

Again.

I feel like Jack has the charisma to hold a crew (see: how enthralled everyone was by him in 1x08, bar Stede of course) but not the skill, which is why he kept being mutinied on.

Assuming Jack isn't dead of course.

He and Lucius are in a cave somewhere, arguing over crab meat.

[factual-fantasy]

Gots some asks for ya’ll

If you really want to show me that you love and admire my art, you’re right, fanart is most certainly not the way to do it.

The way to do it is to comment on posts of mine that you like. Even if its just a “❤” or something like “my heART-” or “Wow! This looks great!”, you know?

I don’t like fanart, and if a post gets too many reblogs it kind’a spooks me, so just a little comment of basically any kind would be just fine. Its actually what I look forward to the most when posting art. :}

Hmm.. interesting question. Lets hope these ramblings I typed out actually answer your question lol.

I feel like something the crew all kind’a have in common is they most likely don’t seek out comfort from others when they are upset. They all most likely hide away in their rooms to silently cry things out on their own in peace.

Especially the Captain for example. I feel like out of everyone he hides his sadness the most, not wanting his team to see him in such a way and not wanting them to feel the need to comfort him. I feel like when he is sad he kind of retreats to his room to be alone for a bit. If the Captain is sad but has to be around the crew though? Maybe he just looks tired and is a bit slower than usual. His sadness can often times be mistaken for him just being tired. He probably prefers it that way honestly.

I feel like when Kwazii is upset he clams up and becomes more reserved. Usually he’s the talkative type right? Maybe the other crewmembers usually notice somethings wrong when he starts answering questions with just yes’s and nos. If someone takes him aside and tries to talk to him, maybe he’ll brush it off and say he’s alright. But if the Captain asks maybe he’ll feel more inclined to tell him what’s up. Maybe he’ll race around in the Gup-B as a pick me up when he’s down as well?

It could be a lot more obvious when Peso is sad. Maybe he gets really droopy and sulks around. I bet everyone notices and he most likely is less driven to keep it a secret. He’s most likely more open to talking about why he’s sad and more open to talking to others who are.

I feel like Dashi might like to have some alone time when she’s sad. She probably works slower and not as good when she’s upset, so she probably takes the time to get herself sorted out in private so she can keep working. She could also go to Tweak for a girl talk of needed.

Tweak could be someone who finds comfort in her work, so usually just buries her nose in blueprints and keeps to herself. When she’s sad maybe it shows on her face and in her body language. She could appear to be working just fine, but her drooped ears, tired expression and slower pace could let others know that she’s having a rough day.

Shellington could be like Tweak in that he just buries himself in his study's when he’s sad to try and get distracted or feel better. Maybe when he’s sad he’s not very good at hiding it. Maybe he’s visibly droopy and just down on everything. So it would make sense that he would prefer to hide away and work alone until he’s better

I feel like Inkling may be better in tune with his emotions. If he’s sad he gets to the root of the problem and tries to fix it. If he’s sad over something he cannot change? Maybe he makes some tea and just relaxes in the library to some music and reads or something. If someone comes to check on him maybe he looks tired and isn’t as talkative.

I feel like looking at Octonauts realistically Kwazii wouldn’t even know of the T-Pose meme.

And I also don’t know what kind of condiment he prefers. :/

Yeah, I have left the chat lol. Kind’a fits because I’m on a break now.

I went from being in my chair, happy and drawing a lot of pictures,

To droopy and annoyed with no pictures.

To just gone. :|

(Post in question)

XD Thank you! I’m glad you liked it :}

Aww thank you!! I try :} And I’m glad you like my Octonauts art! That means a lot! :D

As for how I draw hands? Well, I cant find the original post, but you can look at this hand tutorial I made a while back. Its a bit outdated but its still good in my opinion. :} 

Personally I don’t think he, or any of the crew members do really.

Zoomies in cats are directly linked to their sleeping schedule which causes them to have a lot of built up energy at times.

Kwazii being sentient, having a different sleeping schedule, having daily physically active activities, having a different diet, body shape and size etc, etc, etc, lead me to believe that it wouldn't make sense for him to just be completely full of energy and be uncontroably bouncing off the walls at any given time.

So no, I don’t think he does. :/

I’ve always wondered about Kwazii’s family and why only Calico Jack is ever mentioned. Maybe there’s a darker reason behind it? 🤔

:0!! That’s adorable! 

Where's the lie?? XD

Daww thanks, I’m glad you like how I draw him :}

She secretly splatters some green paint on Tweak and she doesn’t notice XD

(Post in question)

Ye, :} I’m going to continue to work on his design but for now he has a lil vest thingy. And thank you! I tried to make them look cute, :D

That would certainly throw everyone for a loop XD

All the knives are dirty and she be cravin dat bread

I did say I had plans to make Decepticon OCs yes. I was going to make about 17 actually.

But my drive to draw them kind’a diminished, and my hyper fixation on Transformers eventually got replaced with another one. :/

That sounds like something that would actually happen in the show. :0

I imagine Ratchet would perk up out of concern for the breathlessness part yeah. But eventually he’d just get annoyed by all the noisy laughter. XD

I think her paws would burn yeah, or at least are at risk of getting burnt.

Which is why my version of Tweak wears gloves, safety first Tweak!

I don’t think I would want to no.. and I don’t think I ever will. Making up my own crew member OCs just... I dunno, I don’t normally like making OCs for things like this, it just makes the characters feel really out of place.. ●﹏●;

The only Octonaut OCs I have made are some monsters for my Sea Dwellers AU, and maybe I’ll make some unseen family members of the Octonauts? But that’s as far as I’ll go. No made up crew members for me.

[sg-chaos]

Alright, hear me out on this Octonauts episode idea-

So we all know that the Octonauts and Octo Agents are nice people, they’re the heroes of the sea and land, they’d never try to do bad things.

But what if there was an episode where one of them turned evil, but just for that episode (unless it was leading up to some season finale)

I know it’s a weird idea, but imagine how cool it could be! Like the team is fixing one of their own crew member’s actions and trying to stop them.

I feel like it would be a 20min episode instead of a 10min one like usual so it could fit more stuff into it.

I don’t wanna sound biased cuz he’s my fav character, but out of all the Octonauts I feel like Kwazii would be the one to turn evil. It would just make sense.

How I think it will happen is:

Kwazii got influenced by how some other Pirates act (not including Calico Jack). Since Pirates are usually seen as mean and that from sea creatures as seen in some episodes, it would show that Kwazii can be as mean as them too.

The way he gets influenced though is hard one to talk about, but maybe he was reading something about Pirates, or he even met another Pirate besides Calico Jack and that Pirate made Kwazii into a mean person.

Another Octonaut that could become evil is actually Peso believe it or not.

How? Well Peso can be quite gullible at times, especially when it comes to Kwazii’s scary stories.

So it wouldn’t surprise me if some creature out there persuades Peso to do bad things and lies that it’s to help others since Peso does what he can to help others.

Peso wouldn’t realise this at first but maybe once the Octonauts try to stop him a 2nd or 3rd time (cuz for the 1st he’d be like “But the creature says it’s to help others, and that’s what I do!”) he realises and ends up stopping.

Anyways that’s all of the Evil Octonauts Concept Episode I have rn, if you have you own concept of how one of the Octonauts can be evil then please post your ideas and @ me so I can check it out!

[thepulta]

A/N: Update: Am still garbage so I wrote this backstory thing so my children could yell at each other. Extremely fluffy. Diabetus tag. Additional unnecessary cursing tag because Morgan literally was raised in a bar.

-=-

Westlie turned on the light to see a Morgan-shaped lump already in her bed. She sighed. “Hey.”

No response.

Westlie was too tired to care. Her feet felt like lead bricks. She kicked off her boots and sank into the seat at the vanity, closing her eyes as she undid her hair with quick, practiced movements. Her vest got tossed aside and she eventually pulled over her nightgown, straightening it with a quick slap. The light from the window filtered through the room, a soft irridescent orange-red, as she picked up her miscellaneous things; it had been a soot-filled day. When she was done Westlie shut the curtains tight, finally moving to her side of the bed with the suspicious lump under it.

The fuck am I going to do with you, Morgan? Westlie stood there for a minute, contemplating being nice or being a total ass and pulling her onto the floor. She settled for being a sisterly ass and flicking her finger twice on Morgan’s cheek. There was an angry growl and a shift under the covers; Morgan flipped her off. Mission accomplished.

“Move over. You’re not four anymore.”

She listened the first time, surprisingly. Westlie groaned as she finally laid down and her feet stopped screaming, faxing herself into the disappointingly warm sheets. The house was pleasantly silent now. Some crickets somewhere; the occasional creak of it settling. Westlie sighed and melted into the bed before realizing, almost half-way to sleep, she probably should do her sisterly duty. “Any reason you’re in my bed?”

No response. Morgan was out again.

Westlie kicked her. “Morgan.”

“…stars you’re such an ass.”

“It’s my bed. You have a perfectly good one two doors down.”

“’m haven’t seen you in a week. Thought I’d say hi.”

That was… surprisingly sweet. “Thanks. …It’s been busy at the shop.”

“I know, I know. It’s always busy.” Morgan rolled over to face her with a hint of grumpiness, eyes still shut as she re-huddled under the blankets. “What was it this time?”

Westlie puffed out a breath. “Blemmigans today. 150 of them.”

Morgan opened one eye. “That’s kind of cute.”

“Not when they escape and bite your customers so you have to chase said customer down the street, free them from the clutches of the traumatized blemmigan and apologize.”

Morgan snort-chuckled, closing her eyes again. “Let me guess; this customer was not at all grateful for the rescue.”

“Could not be less grateful. They actually wacked me with their parasol.” Westlie rubbed her middle, testing the ache. It wasn’t bruising yet but it would. It definitely would.

She got both eyes open at that. “They actually hit you?”

“Mmhm.”

“What a cunt.”

Had it really been a week since they’d talked? Westlie could never keep track of time. The days blurred into each other, especially around the end of the month when half her nights were spent in paperwork and the other half was grabbing sleep before fixing whatever the rest of the staff had managed to fuck up within a 12 hour period. She felt vaguely guilty. “What have you been up to?”

“No no, I want to hear more about this bitch with a parasol. Why was she there in the first place?”

Westlie had tried to erase that whole incident from her mind. There had been multiple people on the street staring. It was one of those things you woke up from the memory in a cold sweat twenty years later. “Mm…. candles and squid ink…? And calico? Something like that. Stupid shit. We don’t even have calico.”

“Was she just tall and looking for a fight? That’s so stupid. Paint me a picture of her.”

Westlie groaned. “I don’t really-”

Morgan rolled onto her elbows. “Let me guess, she had brown hair, an evil bitch face, and multiple warts.”

“Brown hair, no warts, some bitch face, yes.”

“Mm, she looked pretty but squeals like a girl when the blemmigan got her.” Westlie tried to hide a smile but Morgan caught it. “… You definitely laughed when it bit her.”

“I did not! I was very concerned for my customer!”

Morgan laughed, flopping on her back in the bed, grinning. “You did!”

Westlie broke and laughed too. “Oh she was such a bitch. I hate her. I think she said her name was… Vennedti? Something like that. She kept throwing it around. ‘How dare you insult the Vennedti name!’ ‘My father will speak to your employer about this!’ ‘A Vennedti treated in this manner!’ Oh she was so dumb.” Westlie burrowed into the blankets and smiled at her sister. Morgan smiled back. “Now what about you?”

“Oh, everyone at our bar is fine. Do you remember that rich asshole Fennigan?”

Westlie tried to remember; there was a vision of handlebar mustache and stovepipe hat, but little else. “… Two whiskeys, one gin and tonic…?”

“Close. Two whiskeys, one cider.” Morgan flopped on her back. “I finally got him banned after he insulted Three-Ciders-Two-Rum’s aunt. I suppose there’s a dramatic scandal somewhere because they - Fennigan and the aunt - were definitely going out, but the aunt rebuffed him after she found a Tackety to run away with. Just up and left! No notes. She was an old maid too; like thirty or so. But anyway.” Morgan flopped on her elbows again. “Fennigan walks in upset; nobody in the bar gives a shit because we’re not nosy assholes. He gets his whiskey and starts whining to John - you know, the barkeep.”

“Right.”

“Like, two hours of this, he’s super drunk; wants to play cards, so he goes into the corner and I’m playing with Three-Ciders-Two-Rum in the corner. Was it whist? No, I think it was loo or something; not important.” She waved the details away. “Fennigan is a little bitch and whines for us to cut him in. He dumped like idk, 50 sovereigns on the table, and obviously he’s drunk as fuck. In the beginning he was holding his cards right but eventually we could just see what he had.”

Westlie smiled a little as Morgan grew more animated, leaning on her side to listen.

“Four rounds in we’re both 25 sovereigns richer and he’s livid. Just tossing in the pot hoping for a full on win. Then I got the bad hand. His cards were basically on the table at that point because he’d had like five drinks too many; only it was better than mine, so I told Three-Ciders-Two-Rum to slip me his queen and a jack since he won the last two rounds, and Fennigan lost his mind. Apparently I look like that skanky aunt to a drunk man. I’ve never liked him anyway, so I told him to fuck off and that she left because his top hat was obviously compensating for such a tiny dick.”

Morgan paused for Westlie’s appreciative snort of laughter.

“Fennigan overturned the table and tried to deck me. Three-Ciders-Two-Rum only needed a little prodding for him to defend his aunt’s honor, and then fifteen minutes later Fennigan was out a top hat and 50 sovereigns, bruised and on the street. I cited the damages and got John to ban him.” Morgan dramatically illustrated a headline in the air. “Local Stovepipe Loses Bride and Loses Pride.” She flopped back on the mattress. “That was a great Thursday. Oh I got all 50 of those sovereigns, by the way. They’re in your drawer.”

Westlie had stopped questioning Morgan’s reasoning 6 years ago so the fact they were in her drawer not Morgan’s was more surprising than their existence. “I thought you said Three-Ciders-Two-Rum won half the rounds.”

“Eh, I made sure he broke even. He was too busy slugging; it’s his fault.”

“I feel like I need to lecture you on the vice of theft.”

Morgan poked the tip of Westlie’s nose, grinning. “Alls fair when it’s sitting on the card table.”

“They overturned the table!”

“Shhh, shh shh shh. Semantics, Wes. We were playing cards, he was very drunk, and now he’s missing 50 sovereigns. No harm in that.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“A pain in your ass,” Morgan corrected. “John appreciates me.”

“He absolutely does not. You cause a fight once a week.”

“And I help clean up after! I’m a dutiful member of my local community.”

“So many fights….” Westlie groaned, rolling over to eye her sister for half a second before grabbing her pillow and pinning it down on Morgan’s face. “Can you win this one?!”

There was a muffled ‘..Fucker!’ before Westlie got kneed right in the stomach and she keeled over. “I’ll beat your ass!”

Westlie ducked the right hook, and tackled Morgan around the stomach, pinning her back down to the bed. “I’ve still got weight on you!”

“You are such a bitch! I was feeling so sorry for you with that Venni cunt.” Morgan twisted her legs around and Westlie felt herself biting the bed with a pillow shoving her head down from behind. “Do feathers taste good? I’ve never bothered to find out.”

Westlie wriggled a shoulder free, holding her breath and betting on Morgan’s vindictive two-hand hold on the pillow to continue while she caught her sister’s wrist and yanked. Morgan tipped, thrown off balance and Westlie scrambled on top to pin her arms and legs down. “Aha!”

Morgan squirmed for a full minute, trying to toss Westlie off before she flopped back and rolled her eyes. “Alright, alright. Uncle.” Westlie grinned as she popped off, collected her pillow and flopped back under the covers. Morgan sulked as she did the same. “If I’d known you’d just lecture and be a dick the whole time I would have stayed in my room.”

Westlie poked the tip of her nose. “But you’re nice.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m mean,” Westlie agreed. For full sulking aesthetic Westlie sat up and tucked in her little sister on the other side of the bed. Morgan eyed her with the look that said she was annoyed, but equally pleased before yawning.

Westlie caught the yawn as she fell back under the covers and they laid there, sleep catching up with them. There was a long pause until Morgan shifted a little.

“When are you going to come out with me again, Wes?”

“Mm,” Westlie curled under the blankets and shrugged after mentally reviewing her list of to-dos. “Things should die down in a few more days. You know how the end of the month is. And I can handle more things now I’m 18 so there’s that too.”

Morgan sighed quietly, and just like that the house felt big and empty and lonely. “…I miss you.”

They were only two years apart, but Westlie could feel the separation and she was reminded, again, of their estrangement in some ways; and that in many respects, they were each others’ only real family. She rolled on her side and reached over, squeezing Morgan gently with one arm. “Hey, it’s ok. I’ll have a night off soon.”

“You always say that.”

Westlie didn’t know how to respond, hesitating. She finally sighed and squeezed her a little tighter. “…I miss you too.”

Morgan felt very small and Westlie remembered when they were far smaller and fit much better in the same moderately-sized bed. She would come running in during storms or if the soot from the factories nearby made scary shapes in the clouds. Westlie was not good at comforting and it didn’t help that now she couldn’t scoff at the clouds or the thunder and tell Morgan to wait an hour. There was nothing else she could do except hold her. Even that was a bit empty now since Morgan wasn’t quite a child anymore and hadn’t ever really been a child, like Westlie; affection was a poor subsitute for false promises. But she was here, and Westlie genuinely couldn’t give her a date, a tomorrow, a next week. Westlie sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“You have your own problems,” Morgan said quietly. “I know.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Morgan rolled back over and gently touched the tip of Westlie’s nose. “I might not like it, but I understand.”

Westlie sighed again and let go of her, curling up tighter in the blankets. “How does you coming in here always make me feel guilty?”

“Because you know I’m right.”

Westlie rolled her eyes. “Says the one who stole 50 sovereigns from some poor stovepipe sap.”

“Stealing and emotional intelligence are not mutually exclusive.”

“Mmph, spare me.” But Westlie couldn’t resist a smile, interrupted by yet another yawn.

She felt Morgan curl up tighter in the blankets, settling in. “Good night, Wes.”

“… If I get those letters written and the cargo done we can go out tomorrow.”

“Sure, Wes.” There was a hopeful lilt in Morgan’s voice, but it stayed tempered. Westlie knew that look and she didn’t open her eyes to check.

“Night, Morgan.”