#fuck breading shrimp.

[beserkerhealer]

2 servings.

[apollotronica]

Why my body hurt <- HASNT HAD A MEAL ALL WEEK

[hummerbythesmashingpumpkins]

Hhhhooooohhhhhhgghhh

[halfnha1f]

Man @ask-the-rag-dolly you were not lying this puzzle was easy as hell

I couldn’t find a clear unwatermarked version (but also I wasn’t looking that much) deal with it!!!!

This made me hungry I could really go for some shrimp and sausage Alfredo right now man….

Wait, Zooble, has Kinger or anybody else solved the crossword yet while Rags was out? - A.C.

"I think I'm sworn off Italian food after this adventure."

[urfavoritewriter]

All-Inclusive

A personal story where I indulge in some of the things I like, needed to write a lil thing after the comms.

Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Casual Vore, Teasing, Prey POV, Head-First Swallowing, Belly Bulge, Belly Rubs, Burping, Dom/Prey Dynamics, Tight Stomach, Digestion Implied, Foodplay Themes, Public Vore, Pred/Prey, Power Dynamics, Size Difference, Belly Play

You weren’t supposed to be here.

The invitation came at the last minute—your co-worker, Steve, bailing on the cruise the day before it set sail. You figured it’d be a nice break from the usual grind, maybe even a chance to unwind for once. But now, standing awkwardly in the corner of the cruise buffet with a half-eaten bread roll in hand, you’re wondering if this was a mistake. The other guests are all annoyingly tanned and carefree, laughing too loud, drinking too much, while you hover on the outskirts, hoping to blend in.

And then he walks in.

He looks like every guy who’s way too comfortable on vacation—open Hawaiian shirt barely clinging to his broad shoulders, linen shorts sitting low on his hips, and a pair of aviators perched on his nose even though you’re indoors. His bare chest glistens slightly, either from the heat or leftover pool water, and his stomach... well, it’s impossible to ignore. A soft roundness presses against his waistband—bigger than just a food baby but not quite a beer belly—making it clear that he’s spent more time at the buffet than the gym lately.

You keep staring. You can’t help it. The lazy, swollen curve of his belly, the way it subtly bounces with each step, it’s weirdly... captivating. You pretend to look away every time his head turns, but after a while, it’s obvious you’ve been caught.

“The fuck you lookin' at, man?” His voice cuts through the noise of the buffet, sharp but casual, his tone more annoyed than curious. He raises an eyebrow, tugging his shirt open a little more and tilting his head. “You got a problem or somethin’? Keepin’ an eye on me like I stole somethin’.”

You blink, startled. “What? No, I wasn’t—”

“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He pats his belly lazily, making it jiggle just enough to draw attention. “You been eye-fuckin’ this gut since I walked in. What, jealous or somethin'?”

Heat crawls up your neck. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He rolls his eyes, brushing past you to load up his plate with more food. You think that’s the end of it—just another awkward interaction to forget about. But when he comes back, plopping down at the table next to yours, he’s not done.

“Got you curious, huh?” he says through a mouthful of shrimp. He leans back in his chair, letting his gut poke out even further. “What, this?” He pats his stomach again, louder this time, grinning as he catches you glancing at it. “Yeah, buffet did me in real good. You like it or somethin’, weirdo?”

You sputter, unsure how to respond. “I-I wasn’t—”

He snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Nah, you were. Don’t even lie about it.” He leans forward, resting one arm on the table, the other lazily rubbing circles over his belly. “What’s the deal, huh? Ain’t never seen a dude enjoy himself before?”

You try to laugh it off, but the sound dies in your throat when he shifts in his seat, scooting closer. His knee bumps yours under the table, and he smirks, catching the way you stiffen.

“Y’know,” he says, voice dropping a little lower, “if you like it so much, you could always get a closer look.” His grin is sharp, playful, but there’s something dangerous lurking beneath it. “Or... hell, maybe you wanna get inside, yeah? Make yourself useful.”

You blink, heart thudding against your ribs. “What?”

He burps—loud, unapologetic, the sound rumbling out of him like a challenge. He grins afterward, swiping a thumb across his lips. “Ahh, sorry, man. That shrimp’s fightin’ back.” He gives his belly a rough pat, making it jiggle again. “Might need somethin’ heavier to settle it, though. What d’you think?”

You try to back away, but he leans in, crowding you against the table. His stomach presses against your side, soft and warm, trapping you in place. “C’mon now, don’t be shy,” he teases, grinning down at you. “You been starin’ all night. Might as well make it worth your while.”

You try to stammer out a response, but he’s already moving—grabbing the chair beside yours and spinning it around to straddle it, his gut practically resting on your arm now. “What, you think I’m jokin’?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, man. I reckon you’d fit just right in here.”

He burps again, this time blowing it right in your face with a laugh. “Whew, you smell that? That’s what’s waitin’ for ya.” He grins as you cough, waving his hand dramatically. “Bet it’ll be nice n’ cozy in there, though. You look like the type that’d enjoy it.”

You try to shift away, but his hand lands on your thigh, heavy and warm, keeping you in place. “Nah, don’t run now,” he murmurs, leaning closer. “Bet you’re wonderin’ what it feels like, huh? Bein’ all snug in there... squished up tight.”

You swallow hard, pulse pounding in your ears. He smirks, clearly seeing the panic in your eyes, and leans back a little, giving his belly a satisfied rub. “You know you want to, man. Might as well admit it.”

Before you can respond, he hooks an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your face is nearly pressed into his gut. “There ya go,” he chuckles, giving you a playful shake. “Feel that? That’s where you’re goin’, dude. Right in here.”

His hand slides to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “C’mon now, don’t fight it,” he whispers, voice low and teasing. “Gonna swallow you whole, nice n’ easy. Just gotta relax.”

He opens his mouth slightly, letting his tongue flick out as if already tasting you. “Bet you’ll taste better than the shrimp, too.”

He doesn’t waste time. One moment, you’re staring at his smug grin, and the next, his hand is gripping the back of your head, fingers tangled roughly in your hair. He’s not gentle about it—there’s no hesitation. His lips stretch wide, and suddenly, your face is pressed into the slick, wet heat of his mouth.

It’s overwhelming. His tongue slathers across your cheeks, slick and hot, tasting you with broad, lazy strokes. A deep, muffled groan rumbles from his throat, vibrating through your entire skull. You try to squirm, but his hands are firm, holding you steady as he takes his time with each slow, deliberate lick. Every moan feels like satisfaction rolling off him in waves, like he’s savoring you.

Your shoulders bump against his lips next, and his jaw works over you greedily, tugging you in deeper with each wet, heavy gulp. The heat is suffocating—humid and thick, making it hard to breathe as his throat tightens around your face. All you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and the soft, satisfied noises escaping from his chest as he pulls you in inch by inch.

He tries to speak—just once. A garbled, muffled attempt that sounds something like “mmmff…ffuck”—but the words get lost around your body, swallowed up by the slick confines of his mouth. He gives up after that, focusing on the task at hand, each gulp dragging you deeper into the dark, wet tunnel of his throat.

The pressure is intense, your head squeezing further into him with every swallow. His throat ripples around you, muscles working to pull you down, relentless and greedy. You can feel his pulse hammering against your skin, the thrum of it steady and strong as his throat flexes around your shoulders. It’s tight—unbearably tight—and every inch of progress feels like you’re being forced deeper into something inescapable.

His belly gurgles loudly, as if in anticipation, the sound vibrating through you as your head begins to slide past the opening into his gut.

And then, suddenly, you’re in.

The transition is abrupt—one second, your head is squeezed in the tight heat of his throat, and the next, you’re sliding into the slick, churning pit of his stomach. It’s hotter here, wetter too. The walls of his gut press in from every side, slick with juices that coat your skin, thick and warm. You feel something soft brush against your cheek—the remnants of the shrimp he’d devoured earlier, half-digested and floating in the sour broth of his stomach.

The air is thick, sour with the smell of food and digestive acids, and it clings to every breath you manage to steal. His stomach groans deeply, the sound vibrating through the tight space, as if welcoming its newest occupant. It squeezes around your head, kneading you into place like you already belong there.

Outside, the pred grunts with effort, his throat still working to swallow more of you down. The world narrows to the relentless pull of his gut and the humid press of his belly against your body. Your chest is next, sliding past his lips with a wet shlop as he takes another gulp, dragging you deeper.

His moans are louder now, reverberating through your entire body. Each noise is a mix of satisfaction and exertion, a primal sound that makes it clear he’s not just enjoying this—he’s thriving on it. His gut stretches to accommodate you, the skin bulging as more of your body disappears inside. You can feel it growing tighter, pressing you into the mess of half-digested shrimp and thick gastric juices already sloshing around inside.

You try to push back, just on instinct, but it’s no use. His throat is too tight, too determined to let anything go but down. Another wet gulp drags your waist past his lips, and you feel the rest of your body shift, sliding further into the sweltering heat of his gut.

By the time he gets to your thighs, his pace has quickened, each swallow coming more eagerly than the last. He’s lost in it now—every moan, every rumble of his belly a clear sign that he’s fully given in to the pleasure of swallowing you. His throat pulls you down greedily, his hands gripping your legs to guide them in, shoving the last of you inside.

Your legs kick weakly as they slide past his lips, but he just groans, one final, satisfied sound, and tilts his head back with a deep, powerful swallow.

Schlop.

The last of you slips down his throat, and with a loud, contented gulp, you’re gone.

Inside his belly, everything is tight, wet, and sweltering. The stomach walls squeeze you from all sides, pressing you deeper into the mess of food and digestive juices. Every shift of his body sends ripples through the tight space, sloshing you around like just another meal. The air is so thick it’s hard to breathe, each shallow inhale filling your lungs with the sour scent of digestion.

And then, outside, you hear it—a loud, rumbling burp that echoes through the confined space of his stomach, shaking you to your core.

“Oooof,” he groans, rubbing a hand lazily over the massive swell of his gut. “Man, you settled in good. Felt ya fightin’ for a second there—thought I might have to spit ya out. But nah... you fit just right.”

He leans back in his chair, letting his gut hang heavy between his thighs, bulging out with the clear outline of your body inside. “Shit,” he mutters, giving his belly a satisfied slap. “You’re bigger than you looked. Got me feelin’ all stretched out n’ shit.”

His fingers trace slow circles over the bulging curve of his stomach, feeling the way you shift slightly beneath the surface. Another burp rumbles out of him, this one even louder than the last, and he grins, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Whew. Yeah, that’s what I needed.” He grins, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Bet you thought you’d freak me out or somethin’, huh? Like I’d be all weirded out by this shit. Nah, man. I think I’m gonna keep ya in here a while.”

He stretches lazily, letting out a contented sigh. “Shit, maybe I’ll even take ya out for a walk. Show ya off a bit. Let everybody see what a good fuckin' job I did stuffin’ ya down in there.”

His hand presses down harder on his gut, squishing you deeper into the mess inside. You hear him chuckle low in his throat, the sound vibrating through every inch of his belly.

“Bet they’ll get a kick outta seein' this,” he says, patting his gut one more time. “Big ol’ belly full of some weirdo who couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.”

With that, he leans back, letting his belly settle heavy and round against his lap, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “Yeah... think I’m gonna like havin’ ya in there. Hope you’re comfy, dude. ‘Cause you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

And with one last, lazy burp, he pats his gut again, closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

“You’re mine now.”

[ohmygraves]

thinking about chef au

you were new, wanted to work in a restaurant and learned that one of the famous italian restaurants in town was looking for a new employee. you applied, of course, and after a little test and interview, you got accepted to work there. it seems like the owner chef, john price, took a liking to you.

still, the real challenge came from afterwards. everyone looked down on you in the kitchen, as you were new to the industry. you earned yourself the nickname "bambino/bambina" in the kitchen, "bambi" for short, because not only that you were new, you kept making so many rookie mistakes.

working in the kitchen was hellish. hell, everyone called it a battlefield. you didn't even have breaks the first few days, crouching down near the stove eating the employee's lunch in a hurry before continuing to prepare some ingredients. you were exhausted, beyond stressed, and not to mention pissed off with your supervisor, if you could even call him that.

ghost was the one in charge for the pasta section, and you were placed under him. he never let you near the stove, simply barking orders at you to prepare him all the things he needed.

"bambi! did you de-shell the shrimps!?"

"almost done!"

"hurry the fuck up!"

"bene!"

he pissed you off, truthfully. but you can't lie that he's really good at his job. you tasted some of his cooking, he made staff meals a few times, and his food was amazing. even when he's making mistakes, it didn't faze him, simply going back to work.

he's a pro.

some of the chefs said that he's been working there for a long time, and he was really hard to hang out with. he eats with the owner, doesn't want to go out and meet the customers when they ask to see the chef (which actually happened once, he told you to go see the guests on behalf of him). he sometimes could be seen hanging out with the fan favorite wait staff, johnny, and the antipasto chef, kyle.

there was one time when the front staff didn't have enough, too many people were calling off work, and you had to go help outside of the kitchen. price said that it could be a good opportunity to learn, and everyone who is the current kitchen staff used to work in the front as a waitress for about a year before working in the kitchen. you hated it.

sometimes customers picked on you, though johnny helped a lot. he told you how he was here originally to be a chef too, but many regulars came in just to visit him. he didn't leave for the kitchen, staying to entertain the guests. surprisingly, he didn't mind one bit.

"are you always flirting with the guests every single time?"

"jealous, bonnie?"

"hell no."

johnny did flirt with you a few times. he was the only one who didn't call you bambi.

kyle helped you get settled in, since you're both close in age. he was patient and kind, as close to a friend as you could have in the hellish workplace. there was one time you hurt yourself so badly that you were bleeding all over the place. you insisted on working, but he yelled at you, telling you to go to the hospital. he couldn't leave his post, but he got the dishwasher boy to take you there. you ended up going back to work afterwards, wearing many gloves to cover up the bandages.

"sure you're fine?"

"took painkillers... 'm fine..."

"okay, careful with it. don't want blood on the guests' plates."

you didn't meet könig after a while, until that one time while working up front johnny had you go to the dolce section to get more bread. könig was the only one working there, basically a small room at the back of the kitchen, making bread and sweets by himself. you've never seen him, but it's probably because he always eats by himself during break. he's a recluse, awkward with others, but he's damn good when making sweets.

"you work here by yourself?"

"yeah."

"that's amazing. you're so good at making dolce. everyone liked it!"

he didn't say anything afterwards, but there was a faint smile behind his mask as he rolled out some dough to make bread. you made a note to eat with him sometime in the back, if he wanted to that is.

[feyburner]

THE JAYTIM TEXTFIC WAS SO GOOD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING IT!!!!!!! RAT CAN!!!!!!! BREADIE MERCURY!!!!! FUCKING NERDS BOTH OF THEM!!!!! ASS SHOTS JASON SAYS IN A COMPLETELY NORMAL TONE!!!! RAT CAN!!!!! STEPHTIM BEST EXES/FRIENDS!!! JASON FINDING THE TIME TO TEXT TIM MID SCUFFLE!!!!! RAT CAN!!!!! “sorry. your family. the bats” WHAT IF I JUST CRY AND CRY AND CRY AND CRY!!!!!! ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME FEEL SHRIMP EMOTIONS I LOVE UR WRITING AND WOULD LITERALLY GNAW MY ARM OFF TO READ MORE OF IT!!! IF YOU EVER DECIDE TO RELEASE MORE HOSTAGES FROM UR CHATS I WILL PERSONALLY LEARN HOW TO MAKE BREAD SO I CAN PAY HOMAGE TO YOU!!!! RAT CAN!!!! RAT CAN AND HIS DAD BEING THE OG NERDS THIS FAMILY DRIVES ME INSANE!!!!

Omg. Djsndjskdjsj I love your enthusiasm. RAT CAN!!

It seems The People enjoy silly texting AUs so I plan to clean up the next chapter and slap it on ao3 perhaps tomorrow or more likely this weekend.

[crescencestudio]

sorry if this been asked before! but what are the LI’s favorite food ?

oooh i don't think this has been asked before!

✨ LIs Favorite Foods

Kayn: HMMM sushi me thinks! prefers the sushi rolls with raw fish (instead of like shrimp tempura or cooked fish)

Druk: korean/japanese bbq. all the grilled meat and vegetables and sides oh man he'd go crazy

Fenir: def a soup guy. give him some bread and cheese on the side and he will eat that shit up

Etza: something refreshing and light. i imagine any like cold noodle dish like cold kimchi noodles, cold dipping udon, things like that!

Kuna'a: he's a burger guy man. i tried to fight it but i can't. he would simply fuck that shit up

Aisa: why do i see them as a potato lover. tater tots, french fries, hashbrowns...... this feels right for them

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy offers Tommy a break from all the work and stress he's been dealing with lately. 

Word Count: 5,241

Notes: I decided to give these two a cute little moment because I've been very mean to them lately. Warnings for depictions of smut.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 7: Respite

“Tommy?”

He didn’t notice Lucy where she was standing in the doorway to his office, nor did he hear her when she gently called his name twice. He was too hyper-focused on the small mountain of papers in front of him, battling back a headache from both stress and eyestrain. 

He did take notice, however, when she promptly pushed his chair back from his desk and plopped down definitively in his lap, her arms around his neck.

“Wha-”

“Thomas,” she said, with a sternness that was greatly undercut by the fond amusement dancing in her eyes. “You’re ignoring me.”

His hands settled on her waist of their own accord. “Sorry,” blinking, his eyes darted to the door that she’d left ajar, brow furrowing at the realization that the betting shop was empty and mostly dark. They were the only people still there.

Fucking hell, where had the time gone?

Lucy’s fingertips trailed up and down the nape of his neck to draw his attention back to her, red-painted lips quirking into a tiny smile.

“Did you need something?” he asked. She raised an eyebrow, leaning back to pluck up the paper he’d been looking over. 

“These aren’t due until next week,” she commented.

“Yes, but, I figured I ought to get a head start–”

“They can keep ‘til tomorrow,” she set it down at the top of the stack of paperwork. “It’s late,” she gave him a look, green eyes sharpening. “And I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Love…”

“C’mon,” she hopped up off of his lap, grabbing his hand and giving him a tug. “Otherwise we’re going to miss it.”

“Miss what?”

She shot him an amused, mischievous look. Like she knew some big secret that he didn’t. She gave him another tug.

“C’mon.”

He looked over the work still piled on his desk conflictingly, the stubborn part of his brain tempted to just insist on staying until the stack of papers had been reduced.

“Tommy,” Lucy said, a little more assertively. He looked at her apologetically.

“These need to get done, love…”

“And they will. Tomorrow. I’ll help you, alright?” she took a step towards him, cupping both his cheeks and tilting his head up. She widened her already enormous green eyes a little, pouting in that way that they both knew would get him to do just about anything that she asked of him. “Please, Tommy? I put a lot of work into this, and if you spoil it, I will be very cross with you.”

He could feel a fond smile threatening to pull at his lips despite his workaholic tendencies urging him to stay at the desk. Raising an eyebrow, he wrapped his arms around her waist, interest piqued. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”

She smiled, shaking her head, sliding his glasses gingerly off of his face, folding and placing them onto his desk. This time, when she took a step back and tugged on his hand, he let her pull him from his chair. 

She guided him to the green double doors, only slightly ajar, faint, flickering light bleeding in through the other side. One of the doors pushed open with a creak when Lucy nudged it, and he was greeted with the kitchen, lit only by the dim, twitching lights of dozens of lit candles. A vase of blooming red roses was set upon the counter. In the center of the stable, surrounded by little plates and bowels piled high with bits of bread, apples, carrots, shrimp, and roasted potatoes, was a steaming fondue pot filled with melted cheese. Lucy let go of his hand, bustling over to it and giving the cheese a gentle stir. Tommy stared at her with wide eyes, lips partially parted. She looked over her shoulder at him and smirked at what he assumed was a rather gobsmacked look on his face. 

“When…”

“You were so sucked into your work, you didn’t even notice when I burned the first batch,” she cringed lightly. “This thing is kind of finicky.” 

“I didn’t even know we had a fondue pot.”

“We don’t. I traded with Ada for it.”

“Traded what?”

“I let her take Charlie for the evening.”

“You traded our child for a bowl of melted cheese?” he chuckled, even as he let her herd him into a seat. 

“Just for the night! Besides, she missed him.”

He hummed. Ada had gotten close to Charlie when she’d come to live at Arrow House to help with him right after Grace had died. 

Lucy sat down in the seat next to him, dividing out the fondue forks between them while Tommy took in the spread before him. She had to have put some effort into this. 

“Lucy…” he said, baffled as to what could possibly have precipitated her to do something like this. “Why…”

She shot him a mischievous look from over where she was skewering a bit of bread onto her fork. Like she knew some big secret that he didn’t. “You’re not the only one who can be spontaneously romantic, you know.”

He snorted, still sensing that she wasn’t entirely telling him everything, but decided to let it go, at least for the moment. 

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he said, fiddling with a slice of apple before stabbing it with his fondue fork, dipping it carefully into the fondue, rotating it to make sure it was covered as much as possible in the melted cheese. Lucy shrugged. 

“I figured that we deserved something nice. After all the shit lately.”

He blew on the apple before popping it into his mouth. The cheese was warm and gooey, a sharpness in it that mixed well with the sweetness from the apple. He skewered a piece of potato next. 

“It’s good,” he complimented, and Lucy looked down at her plate bashfully. She was a decent cook. Nothing too fancy, but so long as she had a recipe to follow or was making one of the dishes her mother had taught her to make, she could do a damn good job. “Thank you,” he rubbed at his face, shooting her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know that it’s all a madhouse at the moment…”

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re fine. Don’t worry.”

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, leaning forward to kiss her once softly on the lips, tilting his head up to peck her forehead. Lucy leaned into him with a happy little sound, and he had no choice really but to kiss her again, adding the slow stroke of his tongue into the mix this time. 

Lucy laughed against his lips, pulling back with her smile pulling at her cheeks. “Don’t think you’re getting out of eating more than a few bites, Shelby,” she narrowed her eyes at his innocent expression. “I know your tricks. And if you make me finish this whole spread by myself, I will be sick for a week.”

Wetting his lips with a mischievous grin, he turned his head, and promptly ate the carrot dripping with cheese from her fondue fork.

“Oi!”

“What?” he asked, still innocent as a newborn deer, wiping cheese from his lip. “You said that you wanted me to eat.”

“Mm, bastard,” she said with a fond shake of her head. Scooting his chair closer to hers so he could wrap and arm around her shoulders, he dipped a piece of bread into the fondue pot. Twirling it to break off the strings cheese attempting to cling to it, he held it out to her. Lucy bit it off of the fork ravenously, and he tried very hard to ignore the way she left a small streak of bright red lipstick against the gleaming silver of the fork. Definitely not thinking about how she would leave traces of lipstick on other things that she could have in her mouth. 

He swiped a stray bit of melted cheese from the corner of her lips, smiling softly to himself, and kissed her again. 

In the soft, flicking candlelight, they fed each other food from one other’s forks, laughing softly when warm cheese dripped onto chins, talking about everything and nothing in equal measure. They finished off dinner by feeding each other chocolate covered strawberries, and when he kissed her again, her lips were sweet with the lingering juice of them, and he was half tempted to just pick her up then and there and carry her upstairs to bed, leaving the clean up for the morning.

Some of the tension he’d been carrying in his neck and shoulders had dissipated, and he felt lighter; more relaxed and at ease. Perhaps he’d needed a respite from everything more than he’d actually thought. 

Between the two of them, it didn’t take all that long to clean up. Lucy kept glancing at the clock, as if expecting something. It was almost midnight.  

Tommy found himself greatly wishing that they had a working gramophone somewhere in the house. 

Fuck it, he decided, watching her wipe her damp hands on a rag. She laughed when he pulled her into his arms, entwining their fingers with one hand while the other rested on her waist.

“Tommy! I’ll step on your toes…” she warned, even as she giggled and let him sway her. 

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, dropping his lips to her forehead. “Thank you for this,” he murmured into her skin. Lucy leaned back, giving him a fond, mildly amused look. 

With a giggle, she wrapped her arms around his neck, gently pulling his head down until it was closer to hers, their foreheads touching and breaths mingling. “You really don’t remember what day it is, do you?”

He froze, immediate panic washed over him, mind spinning into overdrive, trying to remember any important dates. Her birthday? No, that was at the end of April. Their anniversary? No…

There was a minor ruckus going on outside, people on the streets hooting and hollering in celebration of something. 

Lucy chuckled, pulling him down before he could continue panicking over what important event he’d forgotten about, pressing their mouths firmly against one another. 

He kissed her back, hand cradling the back of her head to his. Her hand slid up, cupping the side of his face while her lips parted against his, allowing his tongue to stroke across hers. She hummed softly against his mouth, smiling into the kiss when he pulled her closer, flush against him. The soft press of the swell of her breasts against his chest, and the warm curve of her hip under one of his hands, had him stirring in his trousers.  

She broke the kiss with a smile, both hands cradling his face, their foreheads touching. Her huge, forest green eyes gazed up at him affectionately. Filled with so much love it almost bowled him over. 

“Happy New Year’s, Tommy.”

He blinked, once, processing. Then, “oh.”

She laughed, kissing him again before he could respond.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the second they had parted. “I didn’t–”

“Oh, shush,” Lucy just giggled. “I almost forgot about it too. I wouldn’t have remembered if Ada didn’t remind me,” she looped both arms around his neck, biting her lip. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He buried his face–cheeks already warming–into her neck. “Shut up.”

She just laughed again, squeezing him tighter to her. “For the record, I would have done this whether it was New Year’s or not. We needed the break.”

Tommy hummed in agreement, heart fluttering at her thoughtfulness. She was always so good to him. Far better than he ever deserved. 

With his face pressed into her neck, the intoxicating scent of the rose perfume she almost always wore filled his senses. His hands smoothed down her sides before wrapping around her waist, mouth angling to start pressing kisses into the soft skin of her neck. Lucy shivered, arms pulling him closer, head tilting back to give him better access.   

“Happy New Year’s,” he mumbled, once he’d worked his way up to her ear, and though he could not see it, he knew that she was smiling, fingers stroking at the nape of his neck. Raising his head, he kissed her again, taking firm hold of her waist and lifting her up onto his hips. She wrapped her legs around him immediately, this a familiar routine between them. 

Tommy groaned when she nipped playfully at his bottom lip, fingers smoothing through his hair and pleasantly scratching against his scalp.

He carried her over to the couch in the front room, her hands busying themselves pulling open the buttons on her shirt, letting it flutter in a pool of white fabric to the floor. Her bra soon followed, and then he was laying her down on the old, worn sofa, crawling on top of her with his arms braced on either side of her head while they kissed.    

“Let’s ring in the new year, eh?” he husked, taking great pleasure in the way her pupils dilated at the sound of his voice. He kissed her hungrily again, groaning into her mouth at the feel of her bare breasts pressing against his chest. He helped her to devest himself of his upper layers, tossing them to the floor. His cock throbbed in his trousers, growing harder with each passing moment, with each press of their lips or caress of her small hands across his newly revealed skin. 

He needed her more than air; more than anything in the entire fucking world. 

Her thighs were already parted for him, spread wide with his body slotted between them. Cradling the side of her head with one hand, he ran the other up her body, cupping one of her full breasts. Lucy hummed, back arching into his hand when he ran his thumb across her nipple before giving it a light pinch, feeling the bud grow harder. Her fingers raked through his hair, down his back, likely leaving very light red scratches in their wake. Then she was squeezing at his biceps, before dropping both hands to run down his chest. Tommy broke their kiss, pulling back just enough to look at her, their foreheads still touching while their breaths mingled. 

Her dark red hair was fanned out across the arm of the couch, curls tousled into a fiery halo around her head. Her fair, freckled cheeks were flushed an adorable rosy pink, full lips parted, swollen and red from his kisses. Big green eyes, the shade of dark moss, stared up at him, pupils dilated so that there was but a sliver of green encircling them.

Tommy stroked her cheek tenderly, fingers brushing along the shape of her cheekbone. She was breathtaking.

Movements slow and deliberate, he kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then down her neck. She sighed, a sweet, heartbeat-skipping sound, and tangled her fingers into his hair. Tommy worked his way along her shoulder, stopping at where the first scar marked her chest, paying specific attention to caressing his lips across it. 

He’d kissed each and every one of her scars, faded in the years that had passed since they’d first been imprinted onto her body, more times than he could count. And he’d do it again and again.

He felt Lucy shiver at the sensation of his mouth on the sensitive flesh, and his arms coiled around her in response, hugging her tighter to him, taking note of her reactions to ensure that she wasn’t growing anxious. Sometimes it happened, bad memories springing up outside of her control. But tonight, she remained relaxed in his arms.

His face shifted lower, lips working their way up the swell of one of her breasts, tongue darting out to circle her nipple when he finally made his way to the apex. His hand continued to tease the other one, and Lucy’s fingers squeezed in his hair in encouragement when he wrapped his lips around her hardened pink nipple and began to suck. 

Her reaction was delicious; a soft moan leaving her lips while her back arched, pushing her chest even more into his face. Her head tipped back, eyes closing, and her legs, strong from years of horseback riding and patrolling the streets of Birmingham, cinched around him. Tommy mused to himself that, if he had to pick a way to die, it would be like this: clutched tight between Lucy Winters’s legs, watching her face contort with pleasure. 

He sucked a moment more on her nipple, particularly enjoying the shudder that went through her whole body when he scraped his teeth against it, then switched sides. Didn’t want the other breast to feel left out, after all. 

Between his legs, his cock throbbed with impatience, growing a little uncomfortable where it was still trapped in the confines of his underwear and trousers. And while he chose to ignore it for the moment, he did resume his descent down her body, mindful to kiss the scars on her stomach as he went. 

Her belt jangled a little as he undid it, loosening it just enough so that he could get at the fastening of her trousers and pull them, along with her knickers, down her legs. She kicked them off, and he caught both her thighs in his palms, hooking them over his shoulders. Licking his lips, he lowered his face to between her legs, smirking at her when he caught her propping herself up onto her elbows to watch him. His nose trailed delicately through the coarse red hair between her legs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her musk before moving lower.   

Using two fingers, he parted her labia, and licked a stripe up from the bottom of her slit up to her clit. Lucy moaned, thighs twitching a little, and he smirked again, this time just to himself.

She was already good and wet for him, sweet as the strawberries they had eaten earlier. He lapped at her hungrily, eager for everything she had to give him. He let her hand in his hair help steer him as she pleased, guiding the pace and location of his touches. 

When he slowly slipped a finger inside of her, he swallowed hard at the tight squeeze of her walls around him, cock twitching with the hope that it would soon be replacing his finger within her. All it took was a few pumps of his finger and swipes of his tongue on her clit to have her relaxing even more, opening up wider for him with a fresh gush of arousal. Her moans were soft, hips shifting to push closer to his mouth, and he thought that he could listen to her make those pretty sounds forever. 

He added another finger, crooking them slightly so the pads of his fingertips were stroking along the spot inside her that he knew made her voice raise in pitch. And was rewarded with just that, plus a light tremble in the hand still curled in his hair, pushing his face deeper into her pussy. 

Fucking hell, if she suffocated him there, he would die happy.     

Tommy doubled his efforts, purring at how she tightened around him, how her voice broke on a cry of his name, begging him not to stop. 

As if he would ever want to. 

That he still had her, after everything, that she had stayed…it amazed him. She could have just about anyone she wanted, and yet she was still with him. Loyal to a fault. Loving him with every beat of her huge heart. Tommy could not even begin to fathom why she was still with him at all. But he was grateful that she was.

So fucking grateful. 

Lucy came around his fingers with a cry of his name, hips grinding against his mouth, babbling out praises that made his cock throb painfully in his trousers as he drank up all she had to offer, tongue darting out to taste the sweetness rushing from around his fingers. She slumped back against the couch, and when he looked up, he was met with quite the sight: her chest heaving, a light sheen of sweat coating her skin, green eyes staring down at him dazedly. 

With a small smile, he returned to cleaning her up with gentle kitten licks, easily her down carefully from her high, cleaning off his fingers after he gingerly pulled them from her opening. 

“Tommy,” Lucy croaked, the hand that a moment ago had been clenched in his hair stroking the top of his hair, the other reaching out to him. “Tommy, come here.”

He let her draw him back on top of her, bracing his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing her. Despite her constant assurances, he never had been able to entirely shake the fear that he would accidentally hurt her. She was so tiny; it wouldn’t be hard to do so. 

Her cool fingertips caressed his face, and he couldn’t help but lean into her touch, a sound like a purr rumbling unconsciously from his chest. She always had that effect on him; turning him into practical mushy goo under her hands.

Angling her head up, she kissed him softly. He parted his lips to hers, letting her set the pace as her tongue dipped into his mouth. His cock was throbbing desperately, and the simple action of lightly rubbing his bulge against her was enough to have him gasping into her mouth. 

“More?” he asked, needing to check before pushing things any further. He could always just finish off with his hand if she was too tired to keep going. 

But Lucy nodded vigorously, pulling his mouth back down to hers, hands running down his chest, trailing through the line of hair leading from his navel to dip beneath the waistband of his trousers. 

“Yes.”

He moaned as she cupped him in her hand through the fabric, hips pushing into her hand. It took some fumbling and shifting of his hips to get his belt loosened and shimmy out of his trousers and boxers, and then he was bare against her, Lucy’s small hand immediately wrapping around his swollen erection, his hips thrusting into her palm.  

He was positively aching, cock heavy and thick between his legs. The gentle rub of her hand only soothed the throb of desire a little, his throat suddenly very dry, a shudder running along his spine when she smeared the oozing precum from the tip with her thumb, letting it help slicken her movements. She angled her face to kiss him again, legs hitching up around his waist, and he let her pull him in closer. 

He would have let her absorb him into her entire being, had it been possible.

He stared into her face as she guided him to her entrance, not even bothering to try to hide his desperation for her. He’d never needed to hide what he actually thought or felt when it came to Lucy. Never needed to perform. For some unfathomable reason, she loved him just the way he was. 

“Tom,” she whispered, hand going to his shoulder as the tip of his cock penetrated her. He grunted at the tight wetness, warmth surrounding him as he slowly sheathed himself inside of her. The uneven, shaky gasp she let out once he was seated in her fully had his eyes–he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them–opening to fix on her and check to make sure that she was alright. 

She looked back at him with heavy-lidded eyes in which he saw nothing but desire, pleasure, and love. Her lips were parted with her breaths, and she reached out to cup the side of his face, thumb gently stroking. That, combined with the arm she had wrapped around his shoulder, and her thoughtful actions from earlier in the evening, had his heart suddenly growing tight in his chest, a lump forming in his throat. 

His Lucy always made him feel so loved. Even when he didn’t deserve it.

As if reading his mind, she cocked her head a little, kissing him fully on the lips quickly, then between his brows. 

“Okay?” she asked, thumb still stroking his cheek. Tommy wetted his lips, raising one hand to cover hers where it rested on his face. 

“Yeah,” it came out as a hoarse whisper. She kissed him again, and when they parted, this time, she smiled at him tenderly. 

“I love you,” she murmured, and he almost burst into tears right there in her arms. His heart felt like it might burst with the scope of his love and affection for her.

She really was his favorite person in the world.

“I love you too,” it didn’t feel like enough, when it came to expressing the depth of his feelings for her. They were entangled; one being split into two bodies. He was not sure if he really believed in soulmates; but he did know that she was the love of his life.

Lucy swept a few tendrils of dark hair that had flopped forward out of his eyes, the smile on her face telling him that she knew everything he wanted to say without him needing to utter a word. He kissed her again, this time soft and deep, and started to move slowly within her. 

She moaned sweetly into his mouth, hand squeezing his shoulder as he drew out until only the tip remained inside her, then pushed back in until his balls slapped audibly against her skin.  

He set a steady pace, Lucy’s hips raising to meet his on every thrust. He continued to kiss her, open mouthed and hungry, eagerly consuming each of her lovely sounds while gifting her his own. Aiming himself purposefully, he ensured that each long stroke of his cock was rubbing right against her g-spot, pubic bone gliding against her clit. Lucy’s fingers tightened against his shoulder, likely leaving little crescent marks in their wake. The thought made him groan deeply; the idea of her marking him had always done it for him. 

With one hand, he cupped her breast, teasing and lightly pinching her nipple, and she gasped out, walls tightening around him, and he felt the pleasure shooting through his cock intensify. 

She was soft and sweet under his hands, and when he broke from kissing her for a moment to just look down into her face, his breath caught at the sight of those giant green orbs staring back at him, half lidded with lust, but glimmering affectionately. Her legs tightened around his waist, as if trying to bring him in even closer to her somehow. As if they weren’t already as physically close as it was possible for two people to be. 

Her face shifted on a particularly deep thrust, head tipping back slightly and a sigh leaving her lips. He could feel her walls pulsing around him, clutching around his cock like a vice. And she was so warm and wet, it was making his head feel fuzzy. 

“Close, Tommy,” she warned, even though she didn’t have to; he could read her body like a goddamn book. 

He doubled his efforts, letting go of her breast to reach down and circle his thumb around her clit, just in the way that he knew she liked it. Slow and lazy. She whined, eyes scrunching closed as her face started to be overtaken by pleasure, and he had no choice really but to kiss her.

He felt her walls clamp down around him hard, and then she was coming around him hotly, legs spasming around him, moans coming from somewhere low in her chest. 

Tommy groaned. Few things were as good to him as making Lucy come. Her entire body responded to it, back arching, eyes closing, hands scrabbling for purchase on his back or shoulders, legs tightening and jerking around his hips, cunt squeezing him so tight it felt like she was trying to pull his very soul from him.

He continued to fuck her through it, prolonging her high while chasing his own. He was intimately aware of just how heavy and full his balls felt, aching to spill inside of her. A twitch went through his cock, and they tightened. Tommy groaned, pace picking up. 

Lucy broke their kiss, peppering her lips across his cheekbone and finding his ear. He shivered at the brush of them against the lobe. 

“Are you going to come for me, Tommy?” she asked sweetly, and his eyes widened. Normally he was the one with more of a proclivity for whispering dirty things into her ear.

“Always so good to me; always take such good care of me,” she continued to croon, voice an octave lower than normal, and he groaned weakly, a tingling starting at the base of his spine. “You feel so good. So big.”

“Ah…” he grunted, body jerking, cock twitching hard at that, then swelling.

“I love you so much…”

He cried out; it might’ve been a curse, might’ve been her name, it was impossible for him to know. Any higher functioning he’d been capable of flew right out of his head, jaw going lax and hips sheathing himself all the way in and stilling as the first pulse of his orgasm rocketed through him. 

His balls tightened with each large load of seed, cock throbbing as it pushed it out of him and into her. He groaned weakly, emptying himself deep inside of her.  

Fucking hell, she always made him come so hard. 

When it was over, he slumped down on top of her, still being mindful to not put the entirety of his weight on her. His arms went around Lucy’s waist, head pillowing itself on her chest, still rising and falling with her heavy breaths. She was stroking at his hair while hugging him to her, a few kisses pressed into the crown of his head. 

Neither of them said anything for a long while. They didn’t need to. Instead, they just basked in the afterglow, warm and comfortable wrapped up in one another. 

Finally, once his eyelids started to grow heavy, Tommy raised himself up slightly. It would do no good to fall asleep here, both for the sake of their backs, and because the likelihood of a family member waltzing in through the front door in the morning and finding them naked on the couch was not out of the realm of possibility. 

Lucy blinked up at him, cheeks still a little rosy, expression sleepy and satisfied. “What?” she asked with a quiet laugh, when he just stared at her.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, touching her cheek, which flared red under his hand. Her eyes darted down, bashful.

“No…”

“Oi,” he scolded lightly, hooking his fingers under her chin and angling her head up until she looked at him. “You are,” he insisted, leaving no room for argument in his voice, kissing her forehead. “You are.”

“You’re a softy.”

“Mm,” he hummed in mild agreement, pecking her lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”

She just laughed, then shrieked lightly in surprise and joy when he pulled out of her and stood up, bending and scooping her up into his arms bridal style and carrying her towards the stairs and to bed. 

For a moment, nothing outside of the two of them existed. Not the vendetta. Not his family. Not even Birmingham. It was just them. Happy. 

But nothing lasts forever. 

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[silversailormoan]

Yoojin, forced to talk about Hyunjae : from a purely objective pov Hyunjae's ridiculously handsome and talented, he's into knitting lately, and he has big fish tank–

Me : yeah that's normal info to know about him

Yoojin : –he's weird because he'd eat shrimp tails but somehow won't eat bread crusts, is good at origami for no reason, he likes fishing and caught the fish for the tank himself

Me : HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ALL THAT

[duncebento]

why are you signal boosting a scammer using random strangers' photos from the syrian earthquake as "proof" they're in gaza? are you gullible as fuck or are you in on the scam and getting a cut of the gofundme money?

here’s me the day i made shrimp bisque with garlic bread (monday)

[jedifarmerr]

Javi's Having a Baby

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader/OFC (no y/n or physical description)

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 2kish

Warnings: pregnancy!, mentions of sex, some language.

A/N: I'm so sorry about the wait on this, but here it is and I promise the next part will be coming very soon!

Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

“Large fry and a large Hi-C. $2.17 at the next window.” 

She danced in the passenger seat, rubbing her belly. “Our hero,” she sang at him. All he’d done was stop at McDonald's to get her a snack before the appointment, but hey - he would take the praise. 

When that outstretched hand passed him the glorious paper bag, he seriously could’ve sworn it was God’s gift from above by how she gazed upon it. Tearing it wide open, digging out a handful of fries, she popped them in her mouth and gave a drunken, “So gooood.” 

Sure as hell smelled like it. Cooking oil and salt. The crunch. Each tiny little moan leaving him salivating for a bite of his own. Man, he’d really fucked up by not getting anything for himself. 

Luckily, he could just wiggle his finger at the bag and she was willing to share. 

She fed him while he drove. It was about as coordinated as catching shrimp at a Hibachi restaurant. Each time it would miss his mouth and bump into his nose she would give the cutest giggle, but the fun had to stop when one actually went straight up his nostril. He was sneezing out salt for a whole block. 

“So,” she said, taking a small sip of her drink. “I was just thinking, since we have about 15 minutes to kill, why don’t we do a little drive by? Just for fun.” 

Javier treated her with a knowing glance. No way she didn’t plan on this. It was all falling a little too perfectly to be just chance. But she could flutter her eyes with feign innocence and give him that please-please-please smile that she knew he couldn’t resist. She was too well-versed with his weak spots. Probably because she was all of them. 

Fuck, he really hoped the kids didn’t inherit that as he was taking a wrong turn at the next light.

Some would say he’s whipped, and while he would never deny that, she was carrying his children, and honestly, driving a few blocks out of the way seemed like the least he could do. 

When he turned onto the street, slowing the car so it was a creeping roll. 

She tapped on the glass and squealed, “Look! Baby! It finally has the sold sign!” 

“There we go.” He gazed at her, then at the house. 

Their house. 

An older Georgian colonial that was basically the embodiment of an American wet dream. Just an iron-rod fence instead of a classic white picket. He preferred it like that – she would say it gave the place some charm, which the interior had loads of. 

While there were a number of modern touches, the house maintained a certain level of character with its various built-ins, wooden archways, and despite two of the fireplaces being non-working, the one in the living room still ran perfectly. 

Upstairs were three bedrooms. An office downstairs. At the back of the lot was a garage that the previous owners had converted into a studio space, and with a few tweaks would be perfect for his dad. 

Sure, it was slightly over the set-budget. Nothing crazy.  A couple bucks extra a month – one less coffee a week. Besides, he had the money. He’d saved up his paychecks while in Colombia. After all, he’d only bought himself whiskey and bread during that time – the rest was usually comped by the government. 

Then, there were those two years he’d lived with Chucho, and despite his protests, his dad insisted on paying him for all the work he’d done. 

So, they bought it and the way she lit up made it all so worth it. 

She sighed, watching the home disappear behind her. He reached over, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze. 

“Think - in less than three weeks, it’ll be ours.” 

She smiled at that, leaning over the console and giving the quirk corner of his lips a tiny peck, then one to his cheek, and another on his jaw

A happy sound rumbled from his chest, and the smirk she flashed at him drove him absolutely insane. He wanted to steal it from her lips – pull this car over and kiss her salt-stained lips and taste the Hi-C on her tongue. 

She could basically sit there and do nothing, and he would still be raring to go. God – he wanted her. Constantly.

Not once did he expect to be the kind of guy who lost his mind seeing his wife pregnant, but fuck - did he crave her. He would eat her pussy in the parking lot if she let him. Or if time allowed. 

Her confidence had grown along with her bump. She’d become equally as insatiable. All those hormones were making her unforgivingly horny. Some days she would get home from work, strip bare at the door and take him right there on the couch.

She was so sensitive now, and he was utterly addicted. Delirium. A small tweak to her nipple - a perfectly placed kiss to her neck - brushing his thumb across her clit. Any and all of it would have her crying out and squeezing him –

Javier felt his pants begin to stir, and his grip instinctively tightened on the wheel. Holy shit. He needed to calm down.

This was really not the time. 

He focused all his attention on the road, working math problems in his head. He’d learned that trick in high school, and it worked like a charm every time. His boner was gone by the time he trailed behind her into the doctor’s office, but he did have to avoid looking at her ass. 

After flipping through magazines, Adam propped open the door, signaling them back. 

It went on in the usual routine. A weigh-in. Vitals. A few questions before leaving her to change. Once in her gown, she laid back onto the bed, and Javier dragged a chair over. 

“Okay. Before the moment of truth, best and final. Go.” 

Javier hummed, tapping on the table paper. Of course, he’d wondered about it, mostly when someone else brought it up. It was a typical curiosity. He wasn’t really hung up on what they were. Girl or boy or whatever, it didn’t matter to him; so long as they were healthy, he was good. 

And no – he didn’t care how cliche or corny that sounded. 

As expected, Joe and Steve had taken their bets, and even Ruby had joined in on the fun, but her old wives tale tricks had come up inconclusive. Big ole shocker there. 

Javier went with a good shot, “Boy and girl.” 

Her head thumped against the pillow with a big pucker pout. “That was my guess.” 

“It can still be your guess,” he chuckled, making her eyes roll as if she was actually annoyed. 

In a swift knock, Dr. Kelly walked in with Adam on her coattails. It was straight to business. How’re you feeling? Any pain? Any cramping? Any spotting? 

She was officially at the half-way point. 20 weeks. In just five short months, they would be here. Like physically - out in the world. The thought made his stomach do a little roller coaster swoop. 

The gel hit her belly and even though she was mentally prepared, she still gasped. 

Dr. Kelly moved the wand around, until there was a flash of something, and with a few clicks - they were on the screen. It was incredible, and also so strange to think they were inside her belly. Just chilling. Growing. Weird. 

They were real wiggly today. Probably a sugar rush from the Hi-C. They currently weighed around the size of two oranges. Baby A was just a little bigger, by a single ounce, but they were right on track with all their fingers and toes accounted for. 

Then, came the question: “Are you wanting to learn the sex?” 

Javier gave her the lead, and within seconds she was eagerly bobbing her head. She clutched tightly to his hand. 

Girls. 

Two girls. 

Her jaw dropped, and she gazed up at him with sparkly eyes brimming with so much love. Javier almost lost it, right then and there. 

He placed a long kiss on her forehead, squeezing his eyes shut, and for a split-second, he didn’t know where it came from, but he thought about his mom. How happy she would’ve been with two granddaughters to spoil. Even after all the years, it still stung, especially in moments such as these. 

He pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes, and she cradled his cheek. God. What did he do to deserve her? 

“Looks like Joe’s gonna have to pay up,” he teased, making her giggle. Steve had been right.

“Congrats, man,” Adam said, “must have some pretty slow swimmers there, huh?” Dr. Kelly promptly swatted him. 

As compensation for Adam’s lack of filter, Dr. Kelly printed them an extra set of photos. Worth it. Those were going in his office. After a few more minutes of drawing lines on the screen, she was able to wipe the gunk off her belly. Adam flicked on the lights. 

Dr. Kelly snapped off her gloves. 

“Well, I think it’s time we start talking about your birth plan. So far, everything looks good and if that continues to be the case, I think we can definitely plan on a vaginal delivery. I’ll always suggest it, when possible, simply due to the recovery time. However, especially with twins, I highly - highly suggest an epidural, just in case any complications do arise.” 

“Complications?” Javier gripped her hand a little tighter. The smile wiped from his face. 

Dr. Kelly hummed, “Yes, this is considered a high-risk pregnancy, however that doesn’t mean her or the fetuses will experience any problems. I’ve had many high-risk patients who have zero complications, but I like to prepare if the need does arise.” 

Yes - he was well aware there would be risks involved. He wasn’t stupid. But the possibility of anything happening to her was just too much. 

He’d experienced fear and terror. He’d lived in a place of it for years. But this was different. Maybe because he knew grief and loss so intimately. Nothing could compare to the fear of living without her. It was all-encompassing. Overwhelming. It robbed him of air. Choked him. Strangled him. 

It could send him to his knees. God. Please anyone, but her. 

Dr. Kelly must’ve noticed his state as she spoke directly to him. “Mr. Peña, let me just assure you that when the time does come, I will do whatever I can to try and ensure both her safety, as well as the babies.” 

Javier looked at his wife for reassurance, which he found in her soft smile, and equally tender gaze. It’ll all be okay. He swallowed down the foreboding lump because if she could believe that everything would be fine, then he could too. 

He had too. 

[ragsy]

Ok uh let me think I am so bad at knowing good questions to ask without a list let me think.

Ok

For all of your OCs that are from MOTW settings:

5 things they always have on them

4 things they are good at

3 things they could never live without

2 things they like to eat

1 thing they would wish for If they had a genie wish

HOUUHH THAT'S A LOT OF GUYS, OKAY

5 things they always have on them:

Dogmark: Glasses, wristwatch, hip flask, hiking boots, trinket from Tuck that he will never ever let anyone else see ever

Emily: Dangly earrings shaped like something cute, pocket calendar, phone in a brightly colored case with an equally brightly colored pop socket, ibuprofen, extremely large and heavy water bottle

Everett: Cutting edge smartphone, expensive sunglasses, expensive shoes, expensive jacket, business cards

Fishwoman: nothing, she doesn't wear clothes and she doesn't carry anything in her hands

Kenny: Walking cane, Franklin, cursed tape recorder, pocket notebook, dental floss

Sloane: Revolver, beat up old cell phone, arm brace/prothesis, hair ties, brass knuckles

4 things they are good at:

Dogmark: he just wants to be a good dog, isn't that enough?

Emily: trivia games, organization, conversation, missing the forest for the trees

Everett: lying, perjury, deception, looking good in sunglasses

Fishwoman: pickpocketing, fucking with fishermen, mindblowing weird fish sex, keeping a straight face in any situation

Kenny: breaking the ice, dental hygiene, bringing levity, missing the point

Sloane: arm wrestling (with her good arm at least), bestowing nicknames, shooting, grilling

3 things they could never live without:

Dogmark: the clothes on his back, the kindness of strangers, his sharpened teeth

Emily: the power of denial, her own independence, the shoulders of loved ones

Everett: a pretty face, the desperation of others, a charming voice

Fishwoman: not giving a fuck, hedonistic pleasures, sloane

Kenny: human connection, memories committed to paper, a familiar landing place

Sloane: a reliable weapon, an escape route, a confidant

2 things they like to eat:

Dogmark: raw beef, and he can't eat it anymore but he misses tomato soup so so so bad

Emily: apples, fresh baked bread

Everett: he doesn't eat, but he's always carrying around a cup of coffee to keep up appearances

Fishwoman: fresh caught catfish (still wriggling), shrimp chips

Kenny: hot cider, toast with jam

Sloane: steak, grilled veggies

1 thing they would wish for if they had a genie wish:

Dogmark: a cure for his curse

Emily: for magic to be real

Everett: to become the specialiest most beloved guy in the whole wide world

Fishwoman: someone like her

Kenny: a fresh start

Sloane: to know how it all ends

[crusty-chronicles]

Incorrect HxH quotes

An: Take some incorrect quotes because I think I might skip this week for Moon and Sun. Sorry bout that

Y/n Looking over at Kite: I mean, I'm not a slut but who knows?

Ging, spitting out his drink

---------------------

Gon: Hey Y/n! We're playing truth or dare, wanna join?

Y/n: Sure

Killua: We dare you to have a healthy sleeping schedule

Y/n, sweating: I don't like this game anymore

-----------------------------------

Y/n: If anything happened to Gon, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

Killua: Honestly same

---------------------------

Leorio: We're having shrimp fried rice for dinner 😃.

Gon, inspecting his plate: You're telling me a shrimp fried this rice???

Killua with the side of garlic bread: You're telling me a gar licked this bread????

Leorio: I am NEVER babysitting you two again.

Alluka from under the table: You're telling me Y/n paid you to sit on babies????

--------------------------

Y/n: Sometimes I just want someone to take me out.

Ging: Like on a date or with a sniper?

Y/n: I dunno, surprise me.

-------------------------

Kite during a fight: Don't use your hands, baby. Stick with what you're good at.

Y/n panicking: I'm not good with my hands!?!?

-------------------------

Killua to Gon, whispering: Do you think they've noticed?

Gon: Noticed what?

Y/n: WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A POSSUM ON MY BED!?!??

--------------------------

Leorio, addressing Killua: We don't call a traumatic event a 'Major L'

Addressing Gon: Or an 'Oopsie Daisy'

Addressing Y/n: And we sure as hell don't call it 'character development'

Kurapika, rolling his eyes: Sounds like you're having a 'Bruh' moment.

--------------------------

Y/n: What's your body count?

Kurapika: 25.

Y/n: Weak. Mines 358.

Leorio who overheard the conversation: You've slept with 358 people!?!?

Y/n and Kurapika staring at him confused

Y/n: No?????

Leorio: Then what does body cou- Oh....OH!!!!!

Thinking about it: I mean 25 is still low for you, Kurapika.

------------------------------------

[ofthecaravel]

Brandy

Chapter Two

Summary: A port on a western bay serves a hundred ships a day, and the lonely sailors flock to the Caravel Cantina, run by the Kiszka brothers (minus one). But when their brother returns with a handsome sailor in tow, the youngest Kiszka brother finds his perspective about his family and himself turned upside down.

Tags: Even more brotherly shenanigans, angst, tension (both good and bad), cutesy first date butterflies, some tears

Words: 9.7k

A/N: Very cute lil chapter but...something's definitely up

~~~

Sam was awoken by the unmistakable feeling of a gentle pressure on his forehead, as well as hushed whispers he could barely make out. He started blinking and trying to open his eyes when he heard Jake go "Fuck!" and audibly drop something, and when Sam tried to turn his head, the pressure on his head left and he heard even more things hitting the ground. He sat up with a jolt and looked around in a frenzy, trying to make sense of his surroundings as he tried to gain coherency. He was met by the sight of his brothers in their pajamas, Josh with a stack of books and a poorly concealed smile, and Jake with a book in his hand right at the head of Sam's bed. At his feet was a pile of books, varying from thin pamphlets to thick textbooks. 

"Oh, for crying out loud, you guys," Sam moaned, his voice still gravelly with sleep. "When was the last time you did this forehead book balance shit? I was, like, seven." 

"We just missed it so much," Josh whined, flashing a wide smile that Jake mirrored without even having to look at him.

"We're recreating memories of yore," Jake insisted, bending to scoop the books up, stopping to gently smack Sam on the side of the head with a book when he straightened and handed them to Josh. Josh's knees buckled slightly at the further onslaught of weight and let them collapse into a sliding pile across Sam's desk.

"Then I suppose you'll let me relive the glory of  when I filled your shoes with shrimp?" Sam smiled blearily. "That's one of my favorite pieces of 'yore'."

"Absolutely not," Josh hissed as Sam giggled, turning to swing his legs out of bed but Jake put a firm hand on his chest and held him steadfast.

"No, no, no, don't move," Jake commanded, exchanging a look with Josh that sent him out of the room before turning back to grin at his little brother. "Since you slept so late, we've decided to pull out another abandoned Kiszka brothers tradition to celebrate my glorious return."

As if on cue, Josh came sailing into the room balancing three plates, terribly singing a childhood Sunday school song as he distributed them to Jake and Sam, who accepted them with oohs and ahhs. 

"Aww, you shouldn't have," Sam fawned. "Breakfast in bed day!"

"A Kiszka classic," Jake proclaimed as he and Josh sat heavily on the end of the bed, crossing their legs and immediately tucking into their breakfasts.

Sam felt a warmth in his chest he hadn't felt in a long time as he stared down at the eggs dumped sloppily over darkly toasted bread ripe with nuts and seeds, with a scattering of chunkily cut apple slices. Josh had even served it on Sam's designated plate, a pale blue porcelain with a slight chip that had come from the first time Sam had ever done the dishes himself.

"Is it really that late in the morning?" Sam asked sheepishly, snapping an apple slice cleanly between his incisors. "We only did these after I slept in super late when I was sick."

"It's 11ish," Jake explained through loud chews. "But we both woke up early so, to us, this is late."

"You don't have scarlet fever again, do you?" Josh prodded, squinting suspiciously at Sam.

"No, I certainly do not," Sam replied indignantly as he swallowed his bite of apple.

"You had me fooled," Jake hummed coolly. "Last night, you looked unmistakably...flushed."

Josh snickered into his bite of toast and Sam frowned, his brow knitting in the certain way that always made his brothers even more entertained in their razzing. 

"Well, yeah, you had me working like a dog," Sam explained, pointing his fork purposefully. "I was running all over the place for hours."

"Oh, like when you ran over to the jukebox?" Josh asked innocently, and Jake giggled as Sam felt the calm warmth in his stomach shoot up to his cheeks and ears as a hot rush of adrenaline as the memories of the night came trickling back in.

"Or when you closed?" Jake egged on as Sam shot glares between his two chuckling brothers. They were all grown men, but as they giggled and Sam scoffed, it was like they had traveled back in time to when they were small and all their energy was reserved for picking on one another over the breakfast table.

"I don't know what you mean," Sam muttered as he took a big bite of eggs, hiding any expression his face might betray while he chewed. 

"Mmm, I think you do," Josh sang, batting his lashes at Sam theatrically while Jake twirled a piece of his hair.

"Ooh, I'm Sam, what's your name, sailor?" Jake mocked in a high pitched voice. "What's that? Your name is Daaaniel? What a handsome name!"

"Fuck's sake," Sam groveled, pushing Jake's shoulder. "I was going to ask you about that!"

"So you are going out with him this week?" Jake perked up, and Josh's eyebrows shot up as his mouth fell open, revealing the half chewed food in his mouth. 

"Why did you tell some poor lackey on your ship that I was dying for a date?" Sam complained, his frustration from last night finally being released. "Does the whole crew think I'm some desperate floozy? Huh?"

"I didn't say that!" Jake insisted, putting his fork down and adopting a serious look. "You know I love talking about you guys, and when we took on Daniel he just seemed so perfect for you! I mean, he looks just like the guys you would write about in your-"

"YOU READ MY JOURNAL?" Sam shrieked, putting his plate on his nightstand with a loud clack as Jake recoiled with a nervous grin. "YOU READ MY JOURNAL AND YOU TOLD A STRANGER?" 

"Sorry, what's going on?" Josh interjected meekly, his legs pulled up to his chest as he watched Sam's fiery gaze burn through Jake, who was protesting through weak, restrained laughter.

"Sammy, c'mon, give me a second to explain," Jake choked out as Sam spun his fork in his head fiercely, giving a loud exhale through his nose. "I never said you wrote about hot guys in your diary, calm down, I'm not completely evil. I sAAAID, mister, that you two have a lot in common and would be a good match. He asked about you all the time after that, and I didn't have any pictures to show him of you, so, you know, last night was a culmination of a lot of waiting."

"I guess that would explain some things," Sam grumbled, recalling Daniel's enthusiasm and saccharine charm. "But, I mean, he wasn't all bad. Except that he's a damn thief."

"What'd he thieve from you?" Josh asked amusedly, reaching out and plucking an apple slice from Jake's plate. "Your heeeart?" 

"Can't you two get out?" Sam whined, only getting laughs in response as the twins continued to happily eat their breakfast. Jake seemed to take the hint that one more tease would end in a sea of porcelain shards and launched into a retelling of he and Josh's morning adventure on the wharf. One of the things that Sam had missed so much about his brother was his shocking abundance of grace; Jake could rile him up to the point of complete fury, but never pushed hard enough to make him explode. He was the perfect diffuser for Sam's ticking time bomb temper, a skill quickly learned in the aftermath of their parent's death. That was when Sam's fuse had been the shortest and spared no one. 

But that time had passed. Now, they were all back together again, piling commentary and laughter on each other as Josh elaborated on their haggling with the egg vendor at the crack of dawn. Sam leaned back against his headboard and just observed for a minute, refamiliarizing himself with the way that his brothers would trade off sentences and throw words in for the other to enhance their part of the story. 

"Hey, where'd you go there, Sammy?" Jake asked, wiggling his fingers in front of Sam's face, making Sam blink back to the present and smile without thinking.

"Sorry, still a little sleepy," Sam lied, sitting up straighter and cracking his neck.

"You didn't miss the part where the chicken followed Josh home, did you?" 

"I'm an animal whisperer," Josh declared proudly. "She wouldn't even look at Jake. She just trotted up right behind me all the way up to the front steps. I thought that chicken was gonna break down the door the way she was pecking at it."

"Where is she now?" Sam asked through a laugh. This was such a thoroughly Josh situation, running into oddities at every turn. Sam had to be the sole errand runner for a while when the woman who sold from the dairy cart had her sister visiting and she kept trying to marry Josh off to her daughter in the Côte-Nord. 

Josh paused for a moment and Jake started cackling, collecting the plates from him and Sam.

"Don't tell me there's a chicken in this house, Josh, don't you dare," Sam started lamenting, kicking at his brothers to get off the bed with his legs still covered by the quilt. Josh immediately scrambled off the bed and closed Sam's bedroom door with a bang, blocking it with outstretched arms. Sam swung himself out of bed and rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Jake setting down the plate and then grabbing him around the waist in one swift motion. 

"Let me go!" Sam shrieked, smacking at Jake's head. "When did you get so freakishly strong?"

"When I started working on a fuckin' cargo ship!" Jake replied cheerfully, hoisting Sam an inch off the ground and whooping in delight when Sam started full on screaming and kicking.

"Show me the chicken! I know she's out there!" 

"You have to say the magic word!" Josh announced, looking up at Sam with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, Sammy, we raised you better than this. Where's the courtesy?"

"Show me the chicken, please and thank you!" Sam obliged defeatedly, wiggling free of Jake's grip and swatting at Josh's arms. 

"You can meet Clarice after you answer a few questions," Jake assured, clapping a firm hand on Sam's shoulder and shaking him back and forth a few times, Sam bending like a ruler under his hold. 

"Clarice?" Sam snorted. "That's the name you went with? Is this chicken 80 years old?"

"Hey, she's a part of the family now, show some respect," Josh chastised, his arms still splayed out firmly over the expanse of the door. "Now. We have some serious stuff to talk about."

"Okay..."

"So..." Jake trailed off, strolling casually over to Sam's dresser, and then suddenly started to throw the drawers open. "What are you wearing tonight?"

Sam flushed and spun, letting out a cry of protest when Jake crouched to open the lower drawers and started pulling out shirts and pants, tossing them over his shoulder into premeditated piles on the floor.

"Hey, hey, hey, gentle, gentle!" Sam cried, dropping to his knees next to Jake and picking the clothes right back up, starting a cycle of him shoving them back into the drawers only for them to be yanked right back out by Jake. 

"You need the perfect outfit for your date," Jake insisted, handing a shirt to Josh, who had come over to sit cross legged with them and was sifting through Jake's piles. "Too much?"

"Too much," Josh agreed, tossing it onto the bed. "What's Daniel's favorite color?"

"Indigo," Jake said, pulling out a dark blue button down. "This is sorta indigo."

"You guys really have nothing else to talk about on the ship, huh," Sam teased, still grabbing clothes and neatly folding them. "What's his second favorite? Vermillion? Chartreuse?" 

"No, smartass," Jake replied, handing the dark blue shirt to Sam. "It's goldenrod. Try this one on."

"You guys are being so weird about this," Sam accused, slipping the shirt on and buttoning it over his bare chest. "It's just dinner. I don't even know the guy."

"Daniel's my best worker," Jake said, shaking a finger at Sam. "And my best friend on the ship. He's not just some guy. I really trust him."

"And you obviously already like him, so stop pretending like this is some arduous task you're doing for charity," Josh scolded good-naturedly, cocking his head to the side to appraise Sam. "Mm. That's not working for me. Jakey?"

"I agree, off with it," Jake affirmed. "Josh, you wanna decide on some pants for the young lad?"

"Already done," Josh said proudly, plucking out a pair of espresso tweed pants. 

"Oh, I love those ones," Sam gushed as he shed the shirt, finally giving in to letting them play dress up. This was another childhood tradition being resurrected, Sam realized with a nostalgic pang. Only this time it wouldn't end with them sending him out onto the street decked out in their mom's wedding jewelry and a pillowcase dress and locking the door when he flew back to the doorstep wailing. 

"Heeeere we go," Jake whistled, holding up a button down colored the warm yellow of the inside of a dandelion. "This is one of the ones I sent you, right?"

"Uh huh," Sam affirmed, taking it from Jake and putting it on. "From Sierra Leone. You said you bought it from a guy with one eye."

"You remember all that?" Jake looked genuinely surprised, finally stopping his frenzy and casting soft eyes on his baby brother. "I've sent a hundred letters and you remember a throwaway detail like that?"

A sudden hush fell over the brothers in their wreckage of Sam's room. 

"Of course," Sam replied, his tone the gentlest it had been all morning, maybe in years.

"It's not like we have much else to read," Josh continued, clearing his throat thickly. "We missed you, you know."

'More than anything,' was said silently by both Josh and Sam. The afternoons they received a letter or package from Jake were followed by a night of reading and re-reading and then an evening of closed doors and lamentations.

"Yeah," Jake said weakly, looking at the ground. "I do know. And you know I'm sorry."

'So, so sorry,' was the silent reply of Jake. It had always been written in invisible ink right after he signed his name on his letters, folded and sealed with shaking fingers and guilt that pounded behind his eyes like a headache. The crew knew not to bother Jake after they touched down on a port with postal service; they just bought an extra bottle of whiskey and put it out for him to take to bed.

"We know," Sam said, his voice slightly above a whisper. "I'm happy to have you back, even if just for a little bit."

"Me too," Josh agreed, gently tapping his socked foot against Jake's knee.

"I'd stay longer if we could," Jake said seriously. "If it was up to me, we'd stay for a month. Maybe two."

"Isn't it quite literally up to you what you guys do?" Sam pointed out, trying not to let any frustration creep into his voice. 

"Not really," Jake explained, almost meek. "We have a schedule to stick to when it comes to docking and buyers and suppliers and all that technical bullshit. Some shipyard in St. John's is expecting us next week."

"That's dumb," Sam mumbled petulantly, playing with the sleeve of the yellow shirt. "You've barely even told us what your cargo is. Don't they have whatever you guys carry already?"

"Don't be snippy, Sammy," Josh scolded, even though Sam knew damn well that he was thinking the same thing. "We're very proud of you, Jake. Just...hopefully next time you can stay longer."

"Hopefully next time you can stay," Sam whispered, fully sinking back into the hole he'd been digging the past 2 years. This morning was a dream, but he was starting to wake up again. 

"I'm here now," Jake reminded them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and leaning in. "Let's make the most of the time I have, okay? I don't want to spoil this time with my favorite brothers."

"We're your only brothers," Josh finished the age-old joke with a small smile. "You're right. If anything, Sam is the one impeding our time with his little date tonight."

Sam scoffed loudly, pushing both of them back and getting to his feet while Jake and Josh started giggling again.

"YOU guys are the ones who- y'know what, forget it," Sam threw his hands in the air. "Everybody out! Let a man put his pants on."

"Aye, aye, captain," Jake agreed, both him and Josh getting up while trading glances in an unspoken conversation. "We know you want to get all primped and proper for your suitor."

"We'll walk you to Skipper's," Josh asserted, ducking his curly head when Sam raised his hand in preparation for a noogie.

"Like hell you will!" Sam argued, firmly shutting his scheming brothers out of his room. 

-

At 4:50, Sam was blushing 10 angry shades of pink as he walked down the street to Skipper's Pub to meet Daniel, with Jake, Josh, and Clarice the chicken in tow. 

"Stop following me," he hissed over his shoulder for the thousandth time. "I'm fine."

"We need to make sure you get there safely," Josh insisted with a shit eating grin on his face, his hands happily stuffed in his pockets while he strolled with a spring in his step.

"I need to lay down the law with Daniel," Jake explained looking mock stern, clearly enjoying this just as much as Josh. "He needs to know how to behave around my beloved baby brother."

"BAWK," squawked Clarice, drawing the attention of every passerby and storefront as their misfit parade continued onwards as Skipper's came into sight. 

Sam could see a tall, familiar figure leaning against the lamp post up ahead and his body started to come alive with an entire power grid setting his nerves alight. His palms started sweating and he spun around one more time.

"Go. Away!" he whispered furiously again, nearly jumping out of his skin when a yell cut off Jake's impending reply.

"Kiszkas! What a pleasure!"

Daniel had spotted them and was giving them an enthusiastic wave, approaching them at a rapid pace that left Sam faltering slightly in his stride. It wasn't until he was right in front of him that Sam realized just how unprepared he had been to see Daniel in the sunlight. He was donning a lightweight, cream shirt and simple black slacks, but the thing that made Sam clear his throat to avoid choking on a gasp was how Daniel had thrown up his hair in a curly twist, leaving his face somehow more open. A few curls had escaped and curled up under his jaw and bounced as he moved his head and gestured, taking a moment to acknowledge Sam's brothers and pointing to the chicken.

"I see you've brought your posse," Daniel teased, raising his brows at Clarice, who clucked quietly in response and clung to Josh's ankles. "I don't remember mention of a chicken, Jake, I'm surprised you'd leave that out."

"Clarice is a new addition to the family, Daniel," Jake chuckled, admiring her dark plumage. "You know me, I'd never not tell you about the family chicken. How was your sleep at the inn?"

"Deepest sleep I've had in years," Daniel laughed, his body language reading nothing but comfort and confidence. "Much easier to nod off when you don't wake up seasick every 2 hours."

"Amen to that," Jake replied, shaking his head. "I slept like the dead last night. I don't even think I dreamt."

"That's a bummer, the crew always looks forward to hearing about the crazy shit you get up to in Dreamland."

Sam cleared his throat again, this time to snap his brother back to reality. As he had gotten ready, he had wanted nothing more than to get dinner over with. But now that he was here, and Daniel was standing so tall in front of him with the early evening light bathing him in warmth, he suddenly felt he wanted Daniel all to himself for a few hours. Or the whole night. Dinner would decide that, he figured.

"We have reservations, gentlemen, shall we catch up later tonight?" Daniel proposed coolly, picking up on Sam's signal before one of the twins jumped at the chance to make a teasing comment. "I'd love to swing by for this famous Jake whiskey I've heard so much about."

"Sounds perfect," Jake agreed, giving Daniel a professional handshake that made Sam want to roll his eyes into the back of his head. "We just wanted to make sure our darling Sweetie Sammy didn't get to wandering."

"He was born without an internal compass," Josh confirmed, nodding sagely as Sam stared daggers. "Poor Sammy."

"Well, I'll get him where we need to be," Daniel assured them, putting a warm hand on Sam's upper arm and sending a jolt through his system. "Think you can manage the 1 minute walk without getting lost?"

"I can manage, thank you," Sam finally spoke, his heart giving an embarrassed jump at how his voice wavered ever so slightly. Jake and Josh noticed this subtlety and gave him identical looks of subtle amusement.

"Good, good," Daniel murmured, rubbing his arm twice and finally steering them away from Jake and Josh and the chicken that had now begun to wander between Josh's legs in boredom. "See you guys later!"

"Bye, Daniel!" they both called in the sing-song voice they had teased Sam with that morning, and Sam wished with all his might that they would explode as he heard them whispering excitedly while they walked away.

"They never leave you alone, do they?" Daniel asked Sam, his voice pitched in a lower register that made Sam's ears twitch and spine straighten. 

"Not since I've been alive," Sam responded, his nerves escaping as a breathy little laugh he wasn't expecting. "They're the most embarrassing people on Earth but I love 'em."

"That's good, they certainly love you," Daniel hummed, letting his hand fall from Sam's arm. "That's why they annoy the shit out of you. I should know, I'm an older brother myself. Thousands of miles and a sea that's as deep as it is wide couldn't stop me from bugging my baby sister."

"What's her name?" Sam found himself asking as Daniel opened the door to the pub for him, and Daniel blinked in surprise at the question.

"Josephine," he answered with a smile, the bell on the door chiming cheerfully as they stepped inside. "Pretty as a peach. I'm sure you two would get on." 

As Sam took in the scene at Skipper's, he became aware of the sheer lack of ...well, the scene itself. There was no hazy cloud of tobacco blanketing everything in its scent, no loud cacophony of shouting men, no violin whistling in the corner with its accompanying hat of crumpled bills and scattered coins. No waitresses bustling, no bartender snapping, no smell of grease and salt. 

"Uh," Sam stuttered, looking around with visible confusion. "Wow, I've never seen it so empty here. It's usually a madhouse."

"I figured," Daniel said slyly, walking ahead of Sam and training a cool grin on him. "I got here early this morning and talked to Skipper and rented it for a few hours. We have the whole place to ourselves until 8. You think you can fit your interrogation of my character into that time frame?"

Sam had never been one to be rendered speechless, and yet there he stood, his mouth slightly ajar as Daniel's smile grew while he watched Sam blink, knitting and unknitting his brow with sweaty palms.

"Last night, at your bar, it was pretty crazy with the guys," Daniel started to explain, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I saw you flinch every time somebody yelled. I thought you might appreciate the peace and quiet."

"What do you want from me?" Sam asked quietly, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he squinted at Daniel. 

"This one dinner," Daniel said simply, walking backwards towards the backroom. "With you. Come on, let's sit down and get a drink."

Sam followed Daniel as he led him over to one of the booths, one in the corner that was usually snatched up as quickly as they opened. The table was laden with a stubby candle, a wilting flower in a smooth blue vase, and two menus carefully placed across from each other. Sam slid into his seat, landing hard as he took the weight off his weak knees. He was having a very hard time adjusting to this environment. How was it he had gone 20 plus years and never been on a date before? How had he gone this long and never been thought of with this much care?

"You're over 21, right?" Daniel asked nervously as he settled in his seat, picking up his menu as he sat back and spread his legs, his knee knocking against Sam's under the table and making him jump. Daniel didn't seem to notice this, not moving his leg and poring over the menu's measly contents.

"Yeah, I'm 22," Sam replied, trying not to shift around as much as he wanted to while he started to look over the menu himself. God forbid he bumps Daniel and he moves his knee from his. "But they don't ask here. Or anywhere else in town, really. If you're old enough to walk and keep a coin in your palm, they'll serve you."

"Surely not at The Caravel?" Daniel accused over the top of his menu. 

"We're young enough to know who's who and how old," Sam elaborated, a smile creeping onto his face. "We only throw 'em out if we don't like them, but those people usually stay away. The rest, we just water down their drinks a little and keep an eye on them."

"That's pretty courteous," Daniel complimented. "That's probably why you guys are so popular. It has a good atmosphere. Very inviting energy."

"And great service, right?" Sam joked, raising an eyebrow. "That's the one I always hear. Even though I'm not sure that's really what they mean when they say it."

"Sounds like you deal with a lot of colorful characters."

"That's one way to put it."

"I should know, I have a feeling I'm one of them," Daniel grinned, and Sam laughed.

"Honestly? I've dealt with so much worse," Sam replied truthfully. "Overall, you rank pretty low." 

"Sounds like you're liking me better," Daniel said triumphantly. "I knew this would happen. I've charmed you."

"It's only been 3 minutes," Sam pointed out coolly.

"And I've already had you speechless," Daniel countered, his eyes flicking over Sam's face and upper body for a few seconds. "That's the power of my charm. It works fast. I like your button down."

"Thanks," Sam replied, his heart beating against his rib cage so fast he was nearly breathless. "I like yours, too."

"I'm so glad you like my plain, white shirt," Daniel chuckled. "I was really worried."

"I'm bad at compliments," Sam blurted, his face heating up at his own admission. "I do mean it, though. It's...nice. More formal than I see a lot of sailors wear. And, I mean, we're a port, so I see a lot of sailors."

'Oh my god, stop talking,' screamed his inner monologue, whom he indulged by biting on his lower lip and turning his attention back to his menu, pretending to be suddenly engrossed by the misspelled description of a tuna melt.

"Are you nervous, Sam?" Daniel asked slowly, resting his forearms on the table with a flirtatious grin, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You seem a little nervous. I mean, it's not like this is your first date or anything, is it?"

Sam tried not to bristle at his words, instead maintaining eye contact for a brief moment before silently returning to his fake menu reading, politely scratching his nose and willing himself to not go beet red in the cheeks. All the teasing joy on Daniel's face slowly faded into a genuine shock, his mouth opening ever so slightly as he leaned further across the table.

"No way in Hell," he whispered. "Ain't no way. You? You mean to tell me YOU have never been on a date before?"

"What do you mean, me?" Sam asked, lowering his menu finally to look Daniel head on. "It's really not a big deal."

"I'm not saying it is, I'm just saying it's odd. I mean, from a statistical standpoint."

"Sorry?"

"You're attractive," Daniel breathed, adopting a look of real confusion. "You could have anyone you wanted."

"Oh, please. Now you're just buttering me up," Sam scoffed, shaking his head reflexively as he tried to look anywhere but the hazel abyss of Daniel's stare. "I just, I don't know. I'm busy."

"Sure," Daniel rolled his eyes. "You must have been asked two dozen times."

"A night," Sam corrected. "I never said I hadn't been asked."

"But you've never said yes."

"Let me put it this way, Dan," Sam said, leaning forward in a spontaneous moment of bravery until there were only inches separating their noses. "The dates I get asked on aren't really meant to take place during the day, or exceed more than 10 minutes. After a while, the "flattery" gets sort of lost on you."

Daniel blinked and frowned, his face deflating into a somberness that confused Sam. 

"So..." Daniel started, twiddling his fingers pensively. "You didn't think I was actually going to take you out on a real date?"

 Sam held his gaze, feeling nervous for a minute that Daniel could see right through his eyes and into his head, nervous that he would see the replay of all the crude comments and requests that Sam had accumulated over the years and never, ever forgotten. No matter how much he pretended they didn't bother him. 

"No," Sam relinquished quietly. "I did not. And, if I'm being completely honest, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"What would I ever spring on you?" Daniel asked sincerely. Sam realized, then, that Daniel really didn't know the answer, and his heart ached in a foreign way that felt almost uncomfortable.

"That your intentions with me are not as pure as you're pretending they are," Sam said, but he immediately knew that his concerns were not the accusation he had been so certain of. "But maybe you're starting to change my mind a little."

Daniel's puzzled frown lifted into a small smile, his big eyes softening as he looked at Sam for a beat more, stretching the silence until it twanged with a tension that Sam was starting to get a taste for. 

"I'm happy to hear that," Daniel murmured, leaning back against his seat again. "I hope to change your mind more than a little bit by the end of the night. And I hope you know that Jake would have my ass if I ever tried to hurt you."

Sam let out a laugh, relaxing into its release as Daniel lifted the darkness from the booth with his crooked grin and ease. 

"It could be fun to watch you get thrown overboard," Sam teased, and Daniel scoffed in mock offense. "We'll borrow a plank from a pirate ship. Get a good crowd, pass around some smokes. It could be a whole event."

"Your cruelty wounds me," Daniel accused, even though his smile was practically dripping off his face. "Hey, that'll be our next date. I'll give you a proper tour of The Barbarian."

"We haven't even finished this one," Sam laughed, looking around the empty restaurant. "Are they even going to serve us? You promised me dinner."

"And dinner you will get," Daniel promised. "I already ordered for us both ahead of time, don't worry about it."

"What?" Sam said, shocked by Daniel's preparations once again. "Then what did they give us menus for?"

"I thought keeping them would be more authentic," Daniel admitted sheepishly, securing Sam's menu with a finger and sliding it under his own. "Plus, I knew I wanted to set up as many opportunities as possible to see your cute little surprised expression. Why would I pass up on such a fun chance?"

Sam felt the heat rise to his face again as Daniel tossed him a casual wink. A minute later, a waitress came through the kitchen doors carrying a slew of plates topped with pink fish, greens, and golden potatoes that threatened to roll over and across the floor. Daniel whooped excitedly and the waitress laughed, the two of them striking up a lighthearted chat as she set down the plates and their rolls of silverware. 

"Can I get you two any drinks?" she asked, pulling out her notepad and pen. "They're on the house."

"Are you sure?" Daniel asked as he unfurled his napkin. "It's not an issue if-"

"Oh, no, no," she refused, flashing Sam a smile. "The Kiszkas supply all our best liquors, it's the least we can do, really."

"You guys are regular tycoons, huh?" Daniel whistled, and Sam waved him away.

"No, no," Sam insisted humbly. "We just look out for each other. We'll both have a brandy on the rocks, please, Violet."

"Of course, Sammy," she smiled as she jotted it down, nodding politely before walking away. As Danny looked down to admire their dinner, she caught Sam's eye, pointing at Daniel and mouthing 'Wow!'. Sam laughed and Daniel looked up, his fork already deep in his salad.

"What?" he asked.

"It's nothing," Sam replied with a mysterious smile, popping a baby potato into his mouth and looking down shyly. He could still feel Daniel's eyes on him as he chewed. 

"Brandy, huh?" Daniel continued, and Sam silently looked up at him, shrugging gently.

"Yep," Sam said simply. "Brandy."

-

At 8:15, Daniel and Sam rolled into the Caravel in a burst of giggles and flushed cheeks, the sound of their chatter filling the empty expanse of the bar. Jake and Josh had been engrossed in a lively conversation as they prepped for the evening, but they went silent with wonder as they watched their brother float up to the bar with Daniel right behind him, watching Sam unwaveringly as he babbled enthusiastically. 

"Hey, you two," Jake greeted gingerly, almost as if not to scare away whatever demon had clearly possessed Sam to be this bright before a shift. "How's it over at ol' Skips?"

"Delightful," Daniel grinned, patting Sam loudly on the back as he took a seat next to him. "I learned so much about this guy right here. Like the fact that he cannot handle his liquor."

"For the last time, I'm not drunk!" Sam exclaimed in annoyance. "I had two drinks. Two. God forbid I let loose a little."

"I don't know, Sam, I haven't seen you this "relaxed" in a while," Josh teased, pulling his wild halo of curls back into a weak little ponytail as Sam gave him a private look of warning. "You can work tonight, right?"

"Of course," Sam defended, mirroring Josh's motions and starting to comb his fingers through his hair and brushing it away from his face. "Like I said, I'm not drunk."

He really wasn't. If he was drunk on anything, it was Daniel. Hours had sped by as they talked over dinner about everything and anything that came to mind. Daniel had clearly prepared some talking points beforehand, but the conversation had taken natural twists and turns of its own that had followed them all the way to the bar. Sam was already trying to memorize what he could of Daniel; his favorite season was summer, he cracked his knuckles when he was deep in thought, he was the quietest guy on the ship (which came as a big surprise to Sam, all things considered). 

"Well, even if you were, I don't expect we'll get many patrons besides a few of my men," Jake said as rubbed a glass on his shirt before putting it back. "You need a hair tie, Brandy?"

"I got it," Daniel interjected before Sam could snap at Jake for calling him Brandy yet again, reaching up and releasing the jaws of his hair clip. He casually shook his curls loose, one of them brushing Sam's cheek as Daniel leaned over to fasten the clip over the mess of hair that Sam had bundled at the back of his head. The contact made Sam inhale sharply and sit straight as a board while Daniel worked securing every loose strand of hair, humming as if it were nothing. Jake and Josh stood there in awkward silence, both of them making intense eye contact with Sam as they all had an unspoken family talk. 

'Get a room,' started Josh, speaking through a smile playing on his lips.

'I knew this was a good idea,' added Jake by purposefully looking down into the glass in his hand.

'I hate you both,' replied Sam by narrowing his eyes at them. They all snapped back to reality when Daniel held his hands up and admired his handiwork, patting Sam on the back yet again.

"There you go," he said proudly, tucking his own hair behind his hair and assessing Sam's bun. "Looks close enough to the one you were rockin' last night."

"What do you say, Sammy?" Jake sang, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Thank you," Sam muttered. 

"You're welcome," Daniel replied with a smile. "I do all the guys' hair on Barbarian. I guess that's the perk you get with being the only one with a sister. Can you believe I'm the only one? I've never met so many only children in my life."

"Barbarian?" Josh echoed, knitting his brows. "I thought-"

"Can I get you anything to drink, Danny boy?" Jake blurted, loudly placing an empty glass in front of Daniel and startling Josh away from his train of thought, who instead just threw him an annoyed glance. "Whatever you want, that was the deal."

"The deal?" Sam asked critically. "He buys me dinner, you buy him a drink?"

"You betcha," Jake laughed, pulling out a bottle of his whiskey and pouring Daniel a tall drink, loudly dropping a few ice cubes in the liquor and sliding it until it nudged Daniel's hand. "Bon appétit."

Daniel looked embarrassed as he took the glass, melting under Sam's pointed glare. Sam realized he wasn't all that justified in being as annoyed as he was; Jake had told him that he had set this date up from the get go. But Daniel had been so sincere and fun and genuinely caring during their dinner that maybe for a second Sam forgot he might only be doing it to fulfill that agreement, and not because he was actually interested in Sam. 

"Well, enjoy your hard earned drink," Sam bid sarcastically, getting up with a start and stomping to the back to grab his apron and tray. 

"Oh, come on, Sam," Jake called after him, but Sam didn't look, simply turning the corner into the cramped backroom and snatching his apron violently from the wall. He stood in front of the cracked mirror next to the hook that held the aprons and maintained a steely staring contest with himself as he cinched the fabric around his waist, his heart hammering angrily in his chest. Sam had never felt so stupid in his life. Something during that date had made him a little lighter, but here he was, crashing back down to Earth like he had this morning. He scolded himself for getting so caught up in temporary reliefs from reality, letting out a heavy sigh as he clenched his jaw and tried to trick his mind into ignoring the pressure building in his waterline and clouding his sight.

"Fuck," he whispered, holding the heels of his palms against his eyes and swallowing purposefully, steadying his breathing as he tried to force any runaway tears back into his tear ducts. This was so stupid, he thought. So fucking stupid. He was getting worked up over nothing.

"Hey."

Sam cursed and removed his hands from his face, wiping his palms on his apron and harshly turning to face the voice in one, fluid motion. 

"Woah," whispered Daniel, who was standing behind him with an apron in his hand, concern painted all over his face. "I..."

"I'm fine," Sam snapped, the emotion in his voice betraying him. "You're not supposed to be back here."

"I'm serving tonight," Daniel announced, holding up the aforementioned apron, which looked almost like a washcloth in comparison to his arm. "Captain's orders."

"For fuck's sake, I can handle myself," Sam groaned, trying to grab the apron from Daniel, who held it tight in his hand. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"It didn't seem like that was the case half an hour ago," Daniel retorted, pulling the apron away from Sam and tossing it over his head. "It seemed like you were pretty happy to be in my company."

"Yeah, well, that was before-" Sam stopped, unsure of where that sentence was going.

"Before Jake uncouthly reminded us both that our date started out as a scummy sailor's deal?"

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, turning back around to the mirror. Of course, he could still see Daniel in the reflection, and the frustration surrounding his expression tensed his nerves even further. Daniel with his sad, lapdog eyes roaming over Sam's face, which was flush with color and adorned with his trademark scowl.

"Maybe that's what it was supposed to be," Daniel spoke again. "But it was never at your expense. Jake made it very clear from the beginning that I didn't have to do a damn thing. It was just an idea, but I was the one who agreed to actually do it. And maybe I was playing it up a little bit initially last night but..."

Daniel paused, his eyes wandering in space as he finished tying his apron until Sam finally caught his eye in the mirror.

"I only continued playing it up because I realized I actually liked you as a person," Daniel confessed. "It wasn't a bet anymore. I just wanted to get some actual one on one time with you when you weren't on the clock and rightfully annoyed with me. And I meant what I said at dinner tonight. No bad intentions. My cards are on the table."

Sam stood there numbly, trying to absorb what he was hearing and trying to sort through his thoughts. If there was one thing Sam was good at, it was being overwhelmed.

"And, I mean," Daniel plowed on, smoothing the apron against his legs and allowing a hesitant smile to tug at his lips. "I don't have enough time to make any other friends, so you'd really be doing me a favor by hanging out with me some more."

Sam stayed silent, keeping his lips tight to avoid Daniel's smile from infecting him too, instead sniffing once and staring at his shoes.

"I'll give you a dollar if you get breakfast with me tomorrow?"

"Shut up, man," Sam finally said, giving in to a little laugh and turning to face Daniel. "I guess...I guess it wouldn't be so bad if we hung out again."

"Thank goodness," Daniel said with an exaggerated sigh of relief, half of it genuine. "I'm sorry I keep giving you so many reasons to hate my guts."

"I don't hate your guts," Sam replied softly. "But I am going to give you all my worst tables tonight."

"That's fair."

"And I get half of your tips."

"Take them all, I don't want them," Daniel grinned.

"How can you turn down spare change like that?" 

"I don't need it."

"Surely you don't make enough to always live this lavishly when you're docked," Sam accused as he grabbed his tray from its little shelf and handed one back to Daniel. 

"I have a great accountant."

"Maybe you're a pirate."

"Maybe I am," Daniel smirked devilishly, raising an eyebrow at Sam and making his heart race faster than it already was. Sam approached him, feeling a little emboldened by the equal ground that Daniel had established and the liquor that lingered in his bloodstream.

"You're too nice to be a pirate," Sam murmured, smacking his serving tray against Daniel's broad chest. Daniel held his gaze and his crooked smile grew, cocking his head and appraising Sam from under low lids and heavy, dark lashes.

"You sure about that?" he responded calmly, his voice low and husky as his eyes flicked down to Sam's lips, reminding him of just how close he had gotten. He felt his breath rattling excitedly in his chest as he watched Daniel's pupils unmistakably expand in their hazel pools when the tip of Sam's tongue flicked out to lick his lips, feeling the few seconds that passed like they were hours. 

"BOYS!" came the rolling shriek of Josh's voice, jolting them away from each other as they turned to the sound. "Customers! Quit sucking face and make me some money!"

"We are NOT!" Sam screamed back, immediately powering towards the eruption of laughter from the bar. He left Daniel standing there, who took only a second to catch his breath and stifle a smile before obediently following after him.

The Caravel didn't have many patrons that night, but Daniel made it more than worth their while. The Kiszka kept having mini meetings at the bar where they hunched over and spoke in rapid fire whispers and giggles as they watched Daniel weave between tables and charm every customer into turning out their pockets for him. Sam was still at the beck and call of a few of his regulars, but after someone had suggested he "show a little skin" to get a tip, Daniel had swooped in, pointedly tied up his own shirt, and skirted Sam to the sidelines. 

"Pigtails next, Wagner!" one of Jake's men called from a corner table, where 6 of them had huddled and crammed their glasses together on the small surface.

"Do a spin!" yelled the guy next to him, and they all cracked up when Daniel did just that, blowing them a kiss as they wolf whistled and yowled while hustling over to the bar to discard his tray of empty glassware. 

"You want a job, Danny?" proposed Josh, pouring up a new round. "I can't pay you much more than Jake, but if you keep this up you'll be drowning in tips."

"Then who would carry all of Jake's big, heavy boxes?" Daniel said, cracking his back and rubbing his neck. "I'd think about it but I'm not even keeping these tips."

"What?" Jake spluttered, pulling down his sunglasses to stare Daniel down. "You just made 40 bucks in 20 minutes. What are you going to do with all that?"

Daniel looked over at Sam, who had been leaning against the bar resting his chin in his hand and enjoying the break that Daniel had allowed him. Plus, he couldn't say he hadn't been enjoying the view a little, too. Sam looked up at Daniel and they all watched as Daniel scooped out all of his tips and piled them in front of Sam, giving him a wink and striding off back into the fray. The brothers stayed silent for another minute, blinking at the pile of money glimmering on the wood. 

"Sammy," Jake said slowly as Sam quietly started separating the coins and bills. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. You need to marry him."

"Shut up, Jake," Sam muttered, pursing his lips slightly to keep a giddy smile at bay as he pushed the stacks of coins towards Josh to roll. 

"I've never seen anything like that," Josh remarked as he slid the coins into their paper towers and pushed them right back to Sam. "I mean, I thought I was a gentleman, but, wow."

"I told him I got half of his tips tonight," Sam explained as he slid the money into his apron pocket.

"Pretty sure that was more than half," Jake scoffed, looking back over to Daniel, who was laughing with the men at the corner table. "Look at that, he's even got Carson and the guys docile. I can never get them to settle after a few drinks."

"What a guy," Josh sighed longingly, shaking his head theatrically. 

"He's alright," Sam said, sneaking another sidelong glance at Daniel and startling when he saw Daniel had already been looking at him, shooting Sam a surprisingly shy smile before turning back to his customers. 

'He's more than alright,' Sam thought to himself as he watched Josh place a round of shots on his tray. The thought scared the shit out of him.

"Walk you home?"

Daniel bumped his shoulder against Sam as Sam locked the register up for the night.

"I won't be alone this time," Sam reminded him. "My brothers are surprisingly sober tonight."

"Whatever," Daniel said, pulling off his apron and messily folding. "We can walk ahead of them or something."

"You're so obsessed with me," Sam accused, taking Daniel's apron and walking to the back room to hang it next to his. Daniel followed him and offered an offended scoff, standing in Sam's way.

"Forgive me for wanting to keep you company," Daniel teased, reaching up and flicking the end of Sam's nose, who scrunched it in annoyance and slapped his hand. "Alright, I'll leave you alone this time. What are you up to tomorrow?"

"I have to go to the market in the morning, and I planned on stopping at the glassblowing shop sometime before my shift," Sam groaned, his lip curling. "Customers break our glasses like they think we're made of money. Glass is more expensive than you'd think."

"Well, if you have any free time, you should swing by the inn," Daniel smiled, leaning his head against the wall and appraising Sam with a soft look. "My room has a record player and a great view of the alley where all the drunks go to fight. It's a pretty sweet deal. Room 1, 'cause, you know, I'm your number one."

"How tempting," Sam hummed, crossing his arms. "I'll think about it. But if you're trying to seduce me, it's not working."

"Isn't it?" Daniel purred, winking and sending Sam a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, which he masked with a roll of his eyes and smacking his shoulder against Daniel's, trying to pass him.

"Go home, get outta here," Sam ordered as he strode into Daniel's side again, trying to make him budge. Daniel grinned, unmoving.

"Mm, nope, try again," Daniel challenged, leaning further against the wall with a cocky look. "Push me aside."

"Fuck off," Sam grumbled, slamming his shoulder into Daniel's but stumbling backwards instantaneously. He then proceeded to place his palms flat against Daniel's chest and push with all his might, causing Daniel to shuffle ever so slightly and chuckle. 

"You're killing me, man," Daniel laughed, looking down at Sam with a delighted warmth in his eyes. 

"Move!" Sam whined, slapping his palms on him again, nerves fluttering in his stomach with every moment that passed with Daniel's body so close to his. He made the mistake of making eye contact with Daniel, finding himself frozen with his hands still pressed against Daniel's shirt as he became more and more aware of how little there was separating their skin. Sam's heart jumped into his throat when Daniel leaned down so that their noses were nearly touching.

"You're adorable," Daniel whispered. Sam could feel his sweet breath on his face, blowing the loose strands that brushed against his ears. Before Sam could reply, Daniel straightened again and flattened his back against the wall, allowing Sam to breeze by him and burst out onto the floor. 

Jake and Josh were huddled by the jukebox, talking in a low register that would have surprised Sam any other time when he wasn't so overwhelmed and jittery. 

"Ready?" he asked, trying to keep the strain out of his voice.

"You two go ahead, I'll wrap up here," Josh insisted, clapping Jake on the shoulder and turning him in Sam's direction. His voice was oddly tight, and Sam passed a curious look between the two of them before Jake grinned cheerfully and moved past Sam.

"Come on, Sammy, you know if we linger he'll change his mind and give us chores," Jake said, yanking on Sam's arm and looking back at Josh. "Hey, we'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

"Yeah," Josh answered simply, immediately spinning to give his attention to the jukebox and leaving Sam even more confused as Jake led him to the back. Daniel was still there, waiting by the door.

"What are you still doing here, sailor?" Jake laughed, blissfully unaware of the tense stare Sam was sneaking at Daniel. "Aren't you sick of us yet?"

"Completely," Daniel shot back, nodding his head at the door. "But I can't leave in good conscience without knowing if the ol' girl is safely locked up or not."

"You don't trust us to remember to lock our own establishment?" Sam countered as they stepped out into the fresh night air. 

"Like anybody would try to break into this dump," Jake snorted as he locked the door behind them with an exaggerated jangle of the extra key ring. "There. Now Josh is locked in."

"Oh yeah, Josh," Daniel said as they started walking. "Why's he hanging back? Did our boys bust up the place that bad?"

"Yeah, what's up with him? He seemed cranky," Sam chimed in. Jake let out a half laugh, half sigh as he shook his head.

"He's fine, he's just..." Jake thought about it for a moment before settling on a diagnosis. "It was a hectic night and he's just sort of wound up. You know what I mean, Sam."

"I don't know, J, he seemed pissed at you."

"Whatever it is, don't get me involved," Danny interjected. Jake laughed.

"Dan, you schmoozed a mountain of tips for us tonight, Josh couldn't get pissed at you if he tried," Jake smiled, reaching past Sam to pat Daniel on the shoulder. "Sure you're not gonna leave your ol' captain behind to work for Josh?"

"Nah," Daniel said flippantly. "Although I admit it's very tempting." 

Daniel gave Sam a private elbow to the ribs and Sam stumbled, glaring at him while Daniel gave him a wink. 

"How did you get into the cargo biz, anyhow?" Sam asked as they turned onto their street. 

For the first time, Daniel hesitated. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd think he exchanged a look with Jake, but it was over before he got the chance to figure out if it was the dim light playing a trick on his sleepy eyes. 

"Well," Daniel started, knitting his eyebrows in thought. "It's a complicated answer. I needed a job but I knew that'd mean working at the schoolhouse in my hometown and I...I don't know. I wasn't sure if I was teacher material. I had bigger dreams. So, I hopped a boat and sailed away."

He smiled at that, looking down at his boots as they echoed over the cobblestone.

"I'm happy you did, Dan," Jake hummed as they approached the door. "I only wish we could've gotten our hands on you a little sooner. There were some keg shipments before your time that still haunt my dreams."

"You can probably lift those like a beer can," Sam blurted, allowing his thoughts to bleed through into his speech and immediately flushing hotly at it. Daniel and Jake looked at him in amusement as he tilted his face away to pat his pocket for his keys.

"You bet I do," Daniel agreed, a laugh tittering on the edge of his voice. "Come here and I'll lift you like a feather."

Sam squeaked out a protest and shimmied away from him. Daniel chuckled as Sam stuck his key in the door, scowling at Daniel over his shoulder as he opened the door and held it open for Jake to strut through.  

"You two kill me," Jake teased, giving Daniel a side hug before strolling into the threshold of their home. "You want to come in for a nightcap?"

"I should turn in," Daniel declined politely, shyly rocking back on his heels. "But I'd love to come by sometime before we head out."

"We'd love that," Jake smiled, turning to Sam. "Wouldn't we, Sammy?"

"Sure," Sam agreed softly, not quite looking Daniel in the eye as he lingered in the doorway. 

"Sure," Daniel mocked quietly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a smile on his face. "So enthusiastic. I feel sooo welcome."

"What's happened to your manners since I left?" Jake scolded Sam. "Sheesh."

"Sor-ry," Sam drawled, looking up at Daniel with a toothy grin. "Daniel, it would be ever so wonderful if you'd join us for a meal sometime."

"Why, thank you, Brandy," Daniel replied just as mockingly, dipping into a sarcastic curtsy before taking a step back. "Goodnight, you two. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," Jake bid, raising a hand before heading off towards his room, his hat already off his head as he let out a deep sigh and disappeared into the dark house. 

Sam stayed in the doorway for a second, stepping inside but looking over his shoulder one more time. Daniel gave him a little wave.

"What are you waiting for?" Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows with his hands deep in his pockets. "A goodnight kiss?"

Sam slammed the door behind him, locking it loudly. He heard Daniel's laugh muffled through the wood and Sam smiled bashfully at the sound, leaning his forehead against the door as he listened to Daniel walk away.

~~~~~

[thekrows-nest]

Thank y'all for coming to the potluck, I brought Brazilian lemonade and Cajun eggrolls. Hope its not too spicy.

I am not familiar with these but they sound fucking awesome.

Gabby will be eating the spring rolls with no trouble at all. She would say they're not spicy.

Then someone like Eliyah takes a bite and dies cause he has Basic White Boy Spice Tolerance.

It's actually very freaky how high Gabby's spice tolerance is.

Krow would really dig the lemonade, and enjoy the spring rolls too though his spice tolerance is nothing like Gabby's.

If other characters are there (LT, Luke, Jazzy, Mary, Camilla and Naila) they'd all be enjoying too!

Then as for what OTHERS would bring.

Krow would bring really whatever the hell he could. Probably something easy to make like a potato salad (a good one, not one of those sad, weird ones you see at white people block parties)

Gabby would bring some fry bread with various thing to put on them, as well as the most ridiculous cake (well LT brought it but she hopes to fuck someone else eats some)

Luke would bring the most AMAZING bbq pulled pork sliders. Those go quickly.

Mary (and Camilla) bring some chicken poblano enchiladas and more drinks.

Eliyah brings fucking chips and soda

Naila brings... bbq pork and shrimp fried rice.