#:i))

“You and Luffy are always yelling. I don’t think you have another volume setting between whispering and yelling,” you said, matter-of-factly. Ace laughed with his whole chest, which made you smile in return. Fucking charisma, both he and Luffy had it in spades. It made you wonder about their other brother and what he was like. Probably another black haired idiot with a sweet smile, inner turmoil, and a penchant for falling asleep after eating.

“You should meet my friends if you think I’m loud –”

“That’s me, right?” asked a tall figure in a red and white kimono. You looked up at them, your eyes noting the countless hours it likely took them to get their specific look. Unless that was all natural? Their hair was white, teal and green in absolutely stunning waves, starting from their…horns. Whatever, you decided. It seemed like this was one of those cartoons where people could have any kind of hair imaginable. 

“Yeah! That’s you!” Ace said, giving finger guns to a giant…person-ish being. “Misty, this is Yamato. He’s from Wano,” Ace declared proudly, reaching up to try to put his arm over Yamato’s shoulders. Ace was about two and a half feet too short to accomplish it, but Yamato didn’t seem to mind. And if the reveal that Yamato was from Wano meant something, you didn’t know what that would be. Maybe everyone in Wano wore a giant purple and white bow or had giant maces. Hard to say.

“Pleased to meet you,” you said easily, extending your hand. Yamato switched his giant spiky mace from one hand to the other and grabbed your own. He gripped your hand harshly and shook it vigorously before letting go. You winced but smiled, he was clearly trying to be friendly.

“Likewise. Ace usually hates the Readers, but he says you’re like a big sister to him,” Yamato declared with a giant smile. You raised an eyebrow at Ace, giving him a playful smile.

“Is that so? Does that mean I get to boss you around?” you asked, taking another big gulp of your coffee. 

“You already do. You made me help Sanji with the laundry,” Ace replied, stretching his arms over his head. Seeing Ace had you wondering…

“I didn’t hear you complaining. Wait, why are you up so early today? On the Merry you didn’t wake up before noon –”

“That’s not true –”

“Yeah it is. I had to flip your bed over to get you out of it,” you said, looking at the now rising sun.

“Me ‘n Yamato are gonna go fight in the melee. Represent the Whitebeard Pirates. Only a few of us are going, these small fry can’t take it –”

“Fuck off, Portgas-ya,” Law said as he sidled up, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. Ace didn’t seem to mind, giving a shrug.

“I mean, ‘s true. That’s why most of the Commanders and Pops aren’t fighting. Pops would kill you all in like, seconds. For real. So it’s jus’ me, Yamato, I think two or three others…oh, and Marco –” You glanced over at Whitebeard on his giant chair – just how strong was he?

“Izou is joining just for today,” Yamato said, rubbing his chin. “He said he wasn’t going to ruin his nighttime routine for a bunch of lousy, snot nosed nobodies so he’s coming back tonight.”

“We’re not nobodies. My bounty is already 200 million –” Law interrupted, his tone clipped.

“That’s not much around here,” Ace said with a cocky grin.

“And I’m not fighting, I’m on call for the first idiot who gets knocked out yoi,” Marco said, sidling up with his own cup of coffee.

“Tch. I’m a doctor too, I can do that,” Law scoffed, before gulping down some of his black coffee.

“You’re a doctor, you can fight, what can’t you do?” you said sarcastically, giving him a snarky look. Your eyes slid to Marco’s and he grinned back at you. 

“Kids these days –”  Another loud voice resounded across the deck before you could continue your thought.

“HE CAN’T FUCK –”

“Shut the fuck up Eustass-ya,” Law growled back at the larger man. Kid barked out another laugh, his painted smile wide across his face. Killer was with him, drinking an iced coffee through a straw. You waved to Killer with a smile. Killer waved back. You couldn’t see his face under the mask but you bet he was smiling. Man, Killer’s a great guy, you thought.

“Not that it’s your business, but I –”

“Whimper when Strawhat kisses your neck,” Kid interrupted in a high pitched register, his fists under his chin in an approximation of a cute gesture. You laughed despite yourself, it was pretty funny. 

“You like getting punched in the face while you’re going at it!” Law retorted coolly, though his stiffening posture suggested Law was actually getting riled up.

“How would you know that? You peepin’ on how a real man does it?” Kid asked with a shit eating grin. One thing was for sure – Kid was good at rage baiting Law. And based on how tightly wound Law was, maybe that was a good thing. They started arguing loudly which was your sign to leave. Too early, too loud. Except for Killer, of course.

“Killer, if you’d like a haircut, feel free to find me,” you tossed out. At that, Kid let go of Law’s blue jacket to look at you.

“Thanks –” Killer said with a thumbs up.

“He won’t need the help of a stupid Strawhat Reader, I can do it for him. I cut my own hair,” Kid retorted. You considered his strange, tulip-like head for a moment. 

“I can tell,” you deadpanned. Law snickered, which made you feel a sense of accomplishment. Getting a stoic person like Law to laugh always felt great. 

“IT’S NOT FUNNY YOU FUCKING QUACK –”

“I WENT TO MEDICAL SCHOOL! YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A DOCTOR ON YOUR CREW –”

“Bye, boys. Have fun out there,” you tossed behind you as you left the increasingly loud group. You began humming the tune of “Tiptoe through the Tulips” as you walked away. If Kid was rude to you again, that was the next song you’d be teaching Luffy. They would learn to fear your ways…

After finishing your surprisingly tasty coffee, you had gotten down to business. You didn’t want to start with the Captain, wanting to get your groove on other large faces before his. Since there were so many people on board, it wasn’t hard to find people willing to be your first snip of the day. You’d done a few easy haircuts and shaves, and refreshed Jozu’s lovely bantu knots for him. For pirates who were constantly on the seas, they certainly had a lot of unique hairstyles. But who were you to judge? At least it was interesting and not just hundreds of heads of ashy blonde beachy waves.

You had your scissors and straight edge razor ready from the last time you had sharpened them with Zoro. It had actually been kind of cute – you and Zoro were getting ready to sharpen your respective tools when Sanji came out onto the deck. He was bringing you an afternoon coffee like your personal waiter with a giant smile. As always, it fell when he saw Zoro sitting next to you.

“Tch. Move, you shitty moss,” Sanji said, kicking Zoro’s boot. It wasn’t a real kick, you knew that by now. If Sanji had really been kicking, Zoro would have had to block with a sword. Their feats were impressive, and you were a little curious to see them fight on Melee Island. But this tap was only a means to move Zoro. And for once, Zoro didn’t react other than moving his foot. You had realized that when either Sanji or Zoro were actually engaged in their respective crafts, the other would respect their time and space.

“Fuck off, Ero-cook. We’re gonna start sharpening,” Zoro said, pulling out his assortment of whetstones. It was a little cute that Zoro had lumped the two of you into a “we.” Maybe he was finally feeling more friendly towards you. You felt like tossing him a bone for his kindness.

“It’s true, I have my scissors and everything,” you said, showing him your disassembled scissors. Sanji’s head cocked to the side in that adorable way it did when he was considering new information.  “Thank you for the coffee, Sanji. Would you like to join us as well?,” you asked as you accepted your delicious beverage. 

“Hmm…I do have a few knives I need to sharpen. Would it bother you if I accepted your invitation?” Sanji asked, holding his serving tray under his arm. He was looking at you as he spoke but really, his attention had flicked to Zoro’s whetstones. Had they really never sharpened their implements together before? It seemed like a good bonding activity for them, something that they could do without arguing. They were both incredible at their respective fields – Sanji at cooking (and kicking?) and Zoro at swordfighting. Well, you assumed Zoro was good, you’d never actually seen him really fight before. So this might help them find some common ground that didn’t lead to actionable violence.

“Yes!” you replied cheerily.

“No,” Zoro said with a scowl at the same time you agreed. 

“I wasn’t asking you, molded moss–”

“I wasn’t inviting you, love-cook –” You gave Zoro a dirty look before overriding the first mate.

“I was inviting him and I’m dying so I get to say yes or no. Sanji, please join us,” you stated primly before giving Sanji a wide smile.

“You can’t use that to get your way all the time,” Zoro scoffed as Sanji walked briskly back to the kitchen.

“Sure I can,” you replied with an easy smile. “And once I die, you won’t have to hear it anymore,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. You’d always had a darker sense of humor and it didn’t seem to bother anyone on the Strawhat Pirates. Zoro grunted but didn’t say anything else, just took the rest of his tools out of his kit. Sanji returned moments later with three of his most used knives, along with a small whetstone and some towels. Sanji had set up his station on your other side, leaving you sandwiched between the young idiots. 

The three of you said few words between you as you each worked on your individual projects. Since you only had two scissors and one razor, you were done first. You quietly packed up your belongings and left the two of them to continue working. They spoke a few words here and there about the whetstones but otherwise were concentrating on their own work. Maybe you were a genius at love, you congratulated yourself…before hearing Zoro and Sanji erupt into an argument about who had the better estimation of a fifteen degree angle. Ah well, you’d try again later…

So now your sharp scissors were ready to give a shave and cut to one Whitebeard, Captain of the Whitebeard Pirates. Everyone who was fighting had left for the island, though they were waiting for some kind of signal to begin the fight. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but you had work to do before you could relax and have fun. Some things didn’t change from one world to the next. Though technically, you didn’t really have to work, you would feel bad if the Whitebeard Pirates helped the Strawhats and you contributed nothing. Besides, you were getting some good trades out of the Whitebeards. 

You hadn’t tried to find out much information about Whitebeard from the crew, you figured you’d get the story from him personally. Besides, you kind of got the gist already. Giant, powerful, aging GILF Captain, powerful DILF crew, Ace’s dad maybe, something like that. He kind of reminded you of a giant Boomer in the way he carried himself. If you didn’t know any better you’d ask him for his loyalty reward card to the local hardware store.

“So what’re we doing today?” you asked the Captain, eyeing his head and face. “Would you like a shave?” you guessed, looking over his impressive mustache. He was wearing a headwrap with nothing peeking out from underneath, so you guessed there wasn’t much there. It seemed that much like in your world, men in this one were just as sensitive about hair loss.

“Shave would be good,” the Captain boomed, tugging on his mustache speculatively. “You any good with a straight razor, girlie?” he asked. You held yourself back from rolling your eyes – you were a guest on his ship and needed to be nice. And really, he wouldn’t be the first boomer to doubt you. Thankfully, the ship had plenty of strops and shaving supplies already on board so all you needed to use from your own kit was your straight razor.

“You any good at sailing the seas?” you quipped back, already rummaging through the pocket you’d been given by Blamenco in trade for a cut earlier that morning. You really, really liked the pocket. In fact, it might be your favorite thing about the One Piece world. At first you had been hesitant because what on earth did a “never ending pocket” actually mean? But as soon as he showed you that it could carry your entire kit without weighing anything and be completely portable, you were sold. You’d given him a giant hug as well as a shave in addition to the cut. 

“GURARARARA. Some say so, Lass,” Whitebeard replied amicably. You smiled, getting everything out that you would need. It wasn’t more difficult to work on Whitebeard, it was just…more. You were actually more nervous to work on Izou, the Commander’s lovely hair clearly a source of pride, but you wouldn’t have to deal with that until tomorrow.

“I’m gonna need you to lean back in your chair. Er, wait. Maybe lay on the deck?” you asked, looking at his throne-like chair on the deck. How else were you gonna reach his whole face? The other men hadn’t been quite as tall as Whitebeard, so they’d just sat on the deck and leaned down so you could work on them. 

“You can stand on my hand –” Whitebeard suggested, scratching his head.

“Fuck no –” you mumbled, trying to think of a way out of this. One giant hand was enough, you weren’t going for two giant hand experiences. 

“I can take off the mustache if it’s easier for ya,” Whitebeard said, tugging on the end a bit. You laughed as you circled him, already thinking about what you needed to get the job done.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you said, tilting your head to think about other viable options. You didn’t really see a way out of it, he was gonna have to lay on the deck.

“That’s not a joke. He can do it,” Marco called out as he walked across the deck, his lower half shifted into talons. Kind of a cool party trick, you thought. Maybe the fighting was going to start soon and you’d get to see Marco fly. But then your brow furrowed as you actually thought about what Marco had just said.

“Wh- you’re shitting me,” you said, taking a step back to look at Whitebeard. He seemed like he had a normal face, what did that mean he could detach his mustache? Was that some kind of devil fruit thing?

“No. Watch and learn, brat,” Whitebeard said, reaching for the end of his mustache. “STEPHAN! FETCH!” Whitebeard yelled, before ripping off his mustache and chucking it across the deck. A gigantic white, fluffy dog bounded across the deck, catching it in his mouth. As he brought it back, you saw that the dog had a matching mustache. OK, now this dog was actually your favorite thing in the whole One Piece world, the pocket already in second place. He bounded up to the two of you, bringing the mustache back to Whitebeard. 

“DROP IT!” Whitebeard boomed, grabbing the mustache. Stephan played tug of war for a moment before dropping it, losing interest as Thatch walked by carrying a tray of steaming scrambled eggs. The dog tailed it after the chef, his tail wagging happily. Your hand reached out to pat Stephan, but he was long gone. 

“Actually what was that –”

“So between that and the lack of hair on my head, I should be quick for ya,” Whitebeard said with an impish smile. Your mental file of “things that don’t make sense here” was filling quickly, but you weren’t going to worry about it. Your eyes flicked to the bandana on his head. Did they have cancer in One Piece? Why wouldn’t they? You thought. But then again, there were so many things you had no context for in this world it wasn’t crazy to assume there was no cancer here.

“You’re gonna have to lay on the deck, sorry. I can’t really do much about your height and I don’t wanna be picked up,” you said, rubbing your chin. You were expecting pushback since Whitebeard was the captain, but he merely shrugged. Some kind of gunshot went off in the background, along with some roaring. Apparently the fight had started, but you’d have to watch it later.

“‘S alright with me, brat –”

“Stop calling me that –” you muttered. You weren’t a brat, and hadn’t been one in a very long time. You were middle-aged for gods sake!

“I’ve spent plenty of time on the deck,” he said, moving slowly to sit down on the massive deck. You gave him space but didn’t miss the way that all the working men on the deck stopped what they were doing to watch their Captain position himself on the ground. No one said anything, but the worry was plain on their faces as Whitebeard successfully made it to the deck. 

“You wanna take off the bandana? I can give you a fresh shave there too if you’d like,” you offered, spreading a hot towel over his face.

“No need. It’s gone, been falling out for a while now. Medicine caused it,” he explained. Ah, so maybe it was cancer, you thought as you placed another towel over his face. 

“You’ll be alright, Pops. The medicine is helping,” Jozu said as he carried several barrels, his shiny arm twinkling and scattering rainbows across the deck. Now was not the time to ask about the diamond arm, you thought to yourself. 

“Tch. Everyone dies, son. Even me,” Whitebeard said, his face now partially obscured by a steaming towel you laid across it. You looked at him, some pity unfurling in your chest. Sure, you didn’t know him at all, maybe he killed thousands of people or something. But he seemed nice enough and he definitely had a lot of people who loved him. No matter the circumstance, it was difficult to watch a loved one suffer long term illnesses. The tension on the deck made you fidget as you placed another hot towel on Whitebeard’s face. You started foaming the lather for his face, the working crew still watching their Captain.

So you did what you always did when you were uncomfortable.

Said something stupid.

“Gonna make a big ass skeleton,” you said, preparing the lather. The deck went completely silent, all the chatter of the crew suddenly stopping with your words. The only sound you could hear was the cawing of the sea birds near the ship.

“What did you say?” Jozu asked quietly. You slowed down your mixing, as you looked up in dawning horror. This was no slip up at work where you told some client that her perfume had expired or something like that.

“I – uh,” you stammered, unsure what to reply. 

“GURARARARARARARARARA,” Whitebeard laughed, his chest shaking with mirth. Thank FUCK, you thought. You let out a breath and a smile as the rest of the crew relaxed, some laughing too. You removed the towels from his face and began to apply the shaving cream.

“No one’s had the balls to talk about it to my face,” he said, his eyes closed. 

“No one else is dumb enough,” you replied, finishing the lather. “If it makes you feel better, I’m dying too,” you added.

“Aye. No way around it,” he said, nodding his head. In some way, it felt a little nice with someone validating your thoughts. Sure, you’d said it a bunch of times, but you were always met with concern or frowns. At least Whitebeard was honest.

“Now, Whitebeard, hold still and stop talking otherwise I’ll end up slicing ya,” you said, pulling a small section of his skin tight.

“Call me Pops, brat,” he said amicably before closing his eyes. 

“Whoa, you’re letting her call you Pops? No Reader has ever had the privilege before,” Thatch said, sidling up to you with a large plate of eggs and your first latte of the day. You finished the stroke you were on and cleaned off your blade.

“Never liked any of the Readers before. Snot nosed brats always think they know anything about piracy when they can’t even make a bowline knot,” Whitebeard murmured as you continued.

“Thank you, Thatch,” you said, giving a quick glance at the eggs. He smiled and leaned back against the railing, clearly ready to chat and linger. No way, you wanted to work as diligently as you could so that you could watch the fight. Not only that, it was always more annoying to work with someone watching your every move.

“Begone. I have to concentrate,” you said, dismissing Thatch with a wave of your hand. But he wasn’t an underling, so he ignored you.

“Nah. I wanna hang out with you and Pops. Besides, I was gonna ask – when we get new Readers, we usually put on a show at night. You guys have new music and well, it gets boring here. We’ve got a band, and we can learn almost any song or style if you wanna teach us something for tonight,” Thatch offered, his crooked grin widening. 

“Oh, you’re gonna play when the fight stops?” you asked. 

“No, they’ll fight for a few days I’m guessing,” Thatch speculated, tugging on his goatee. 

“A few days?!” you exclaimed. How was that even possible?

“Yeah. I’m thinking probably three. It’s a lot of players, but they’re all relatively inexperienced. So probably three. I mean, anyone who wants to can stop for the night, but their pride is on the line. They’re not going to,” Thatch explained. Now you were really glad you’d never arm wrestled Usopp to be able to fight in their crew.

“No more Mitski,” Pops grumbled. Thatch laughed, his scar winking in the morning sun. He looked like something out of a rancher fantasy, like a bad boy who could be good for a night…goddammit why was everyone on the ship so hot? But thinking about hot men only had your mind wandering to thoughts about Jinbei. You really wanted to see him fighting. He had mentioned that he was proficient in Fishman karate, and you wanted to see what that entailed. Ace had said Jinbei was incredibly powerful, and everyone had agreed…

“So what about it? And yeah, no more Mitski. Pops doesn’t like it. Says it’s too whiny,” Thatch said, bringing your thoughts back to the present. 

“Oh, uh. Sure. I can think of something,” you said, nearly done with Pops’ face. You thought through different songs he would like. Whitebeard was a boomer, a rough and tumble, an outlaw…what would he like? A smile broke out on your face as you figured out the perfect song.

“Yeah, I got something for y’all,” you said, already thinking about a roster of songs for the guys. Hopefully the previous hadn’t used any of your selections, you wanted these guys to love what you were gonna sing for them. You thought about your set while you finished Whitebeard’s shave, his giant face less of a pain than you’d been expecting. 

“You’re all set,” you said, wiping your hands on a towel.

“Feels alright,” Whitebeard said, rubbing his cheek as he sat up. Whitebeard put his hands on his knees in preparation to stand. Thatch was now in front of you, extending his hand to Pops to help him up. 

“I don’t need help standing up, whelp,” Pops said, batting away Thatch. He slowly rose to his knees, but eventually got himself back on the chair. 

“Take a look,” you said, handing Pops a mirror when he was finally back in his seat. Pops took the mirror and admired his fresh shave. You’d done pretty well for being on a large rocking boat, you thought. Whitebeard handed you back the mirror and smiled at you.

“You did a good job,” Pops said, giving you a pat on the back with his giant, warm hand. You blinked rapidly unsure what to say in return. You had been expecting a thank you but the praise combined with a pat was a heady feeling. No wonder these men loved their dad. You’d take being called a brat if it meant someone finally told you that you’d done something well. Hell, you’d probably go fight on that island if he told you he’d pat your head and thank you afterwards. 

“Thanks, Pops,” you said, giving him a smile before taking a sip of your latte.

“Ooh, it’s good. Thank you, Thatch. You got the cinnamon just right,” you said before taking another drink. 

“C’mon, let’s go talk to the guys in the band. It’s better if we have time to practice before the show tonight,” explained as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You raised your eyebrow and pushed it off with your index finger. 

“Can’t blame me for trying my luck,” he said, putting his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t hold it against him. And really, what was so wrong about having handsome and helpful men show interest in you? Thatch led you across the deck, passing in view of the island where the fighting was.

You looked out at the island, focusing on what was happening there for the first time. Stopping in front of the railing, you watched with your mouth hanging open. Never in your wildest fantasies could you have imagined anything like this.

It was complete mayhem and you were honestly shocked no one had died yet. Right now, Luffy was going up against Law and Kid. Kid somehow had made a giant metal gun, Law had his weird blue bubbles and his sword, and they were both being repelled by Luffy. Luffy! The same kid you had to convince to wash his hands after blowing his nose! And Luffy appeared to be holding his own against the two larger men. Right now he looked like he was charging up for something, kind of like those Goku memes you’d seen a few times. 

“TALK TO THE …..HAAAAAAAND!” Luffy yelled as he attacked with a giant palm strike. Oh, so Ace had used that phrase on him. Law and Kid dodged at the last minute, readying attacks of their own.

But before you could see what else he was going to do, your attention shifted elsewhere. Zoro was fighting Killer, who had some kind of swinging machetes. Zoro had his third sword in his mouth, which was…not what you expected. You had always thought he kept a backup or something! But apparently his jaw was strong enough to wield it like that. Maybe the skill was transferable, you thought, as he barked something at Sanji.

Robin was fighting Yamato, her limbs much more versatile in battle than you’d imagined. Robin was completely concentrating on Yamato – who had grown a billowing white tail? And was that Chopper? The giant beefy reindeer? He was fighting Penguin and Shachi, while Franky duked it out with a tall guy from the Kid pirates with fishnets, spikes on his head, and a trident. A purple haired guy (who really had the perfect shade of periwinkle hair, the girls would have gone crazy for him) was blowing fire at Brook. The musically oriented skeleton had whipped out a sword to parry the flames. Was there always a sword in that cane?

And holy fuck what was happening with Ace and Jinbei? They were both grinning as they fought, clearly enjoying themselves. You couldn’t tear yourself away, watching as Jinbei drew water in a circle around him before launching it at Ace. Ace dodged and sent a fiery cannonball attack back at Jinbei, who deflected it easily by punching the air and sending Ace flying backwards. 

“Oh yeah. Jinbei and Ace. They’ve fought each other before, actually. Ended in a draw after about five days,” Thatch said, looking out where you were gazing. “Well, they say it was a draw. I think Jinbei could have won if he used more underhanded tactics. But he won’t, that’s not his wya,” Thatch said as Ace evaded a hit that shattered the ground below him. Nearby, Law had somehow used electrical energy to stun Kid and crack the earth, though it was ineffective against Luffy’s rubbery body. A plume of black smoke rose as something exploded on the other side of the island. 

“Are they gonna blow up the island?” you wondered out loud as Ace landed a fiery kick on Jinbei. You winced but as Ace bounced back, you saw that Jinbei’s arms were black and he didn’t seem to take any damage. Jinbei’s aura seemed to be crackling around him, his fierce gaze trained on Ace alone. This was far from the calm, collected, well spoken Fishman you had come to know. Even so, watching him brought you a certain…thrill.

“Maybe, not sure. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. I would worry about getting booed off the stage tonight,” Thatch said, giving you a pointed look. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get going inna minute. Let me watch a bit, I was working this morning,” you humphed. You leaned forward as Jinbei took a cool stance. Maybe he was going to make a kamehameha or something. Did they have those here?

“You liking the fight?” Thatch asked, leaning on the railing next to you.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” you said truthfully as Ace launched himself into the air. Jinbei dove for a nearby pool of water and started hurling water spears at Ace. What in the hell…?

“Oh you’re liking it alright. You lean any further over the railing and you’re going overboard. There’s no shame in it, I got a radar for Battle Bunnies,” Thatch said. You finally broke eye contact from watching Jinbei to give Thatch a scowl.

“Excuse me?” you asked, pursing your lips. 

“You know…chicks who get their thrills from watching their men fight. ‘S really common, we see it all the time. The best part is that after the fight ends, the real marathon starts. Some guys call it pirate puss –” You made a fake vomiting noise to stop his speech. 

“Shut. Up. Or I’m gonna cut your hair crooked,” you said without any malice. Thatch put his hand on his chest and let out an exaggerated gasp.

“I’m just trying to teach you about our world, is that so wrong?” he asked in mock offence.

“Go say your nasty thoughts to someone else, I don’t wanna hear it.” Thatch laughed and pushed off the railing to begin walking.