#interaction*

[blackcatxmagic]

Winter thought about Boris's question. "I...I think so?" he said, his voice uncertain. There was a memory there, just flashes of it, of the wind in his hair, of arms on his shoulders, of laughter in his ear, and he thought that was his answer. But of course Winter couldn't clear the memory up no matter how hard he tried, so he told the other, "I guess we'll find out. I'm pretty sure though." Winter was resolved to make it work because he was just as eager to continue this conversation as Boris. Continuing to listen to Boris's recollection of what they had seen, Winter patted him the shoulder, saying encouragingly, "Hey, you saw someone making fire and levitating. I don't blame you for not doing anything. I mean...she was making fire and levitating. I probably would have run in the other direction." Winter laughed, but was that really true? Somehow it felt like he'd be drawn to it; magic in general felt that way. "Don't beat yourself up about it, Boris," Winter said, smiling at the other.

Shaking his head, Winter answered, "No, I don't remember." Of course he didn't. But Winter was too invested in this conversation to take the time to feel sorry for himself. He nodded at Boris and replied, "I didn't take photos, but I sketched those too. They're in the same notebook at home. But I...I forget if they were the same." Somehow he felt like they weren't, but Winter didn't know if that memory could be trusted, which could be said for many of his memories. "We'll check that out too at my place," he told Boris. "I also have a book I found at the library with like...spells and stuff. Maybe we could..." Winter trailed off; he'd been about to suggest that maybe they could try some of them, but he didn't know how Boris would feel about that. So he let his words just hang there between them, not continuing his thought.

.

"Yes, yes, I'll come over," they nodded enthusiastically. "Hm, do you think you could share your bike? I don't think I can run that far, especially not now that winter's upon us." Boris would usually walk everywhere, unless their dad felt in the mood to lend them the keys to the Maverick; but they needed to get to Winter's as soon as they could.

When Winter reassured them that he did believe their story, Boris shut their eyes and sighed in relief. Some of their friends said they believed them, but it rarely if ever sounded genuine. Winter's words did sound honest. "Of course I felt a weird energy, everything about it was weird," they said. "I'm still so angry at myself for not... For not doing something. I just froze, and even though I wanted to confront her, or call her attention, or say anything, I just..." They groaned, smacking the desk with their fist. They didn't even like to think about it. It had been their only chance at finding out more from the source –and they just did nothing.

"Symbols?" they frowned. "Do you remember if they were like those from the quilt?" Probably not. Those on the quilt must have been protection, yes, while those in the woods were most likely something akin to summoning forces, or performing spells... But they couldn't rule out that there might be some good witches that would want to protect the town in some way. "Did you take photos? Or know what those things you saw were like?" Boris knew they were probably overwhelming Winter with questions, but clearly he had seen a lot, and they might be closer than ever to getting some actual answers.

[blackcatxmagic]

Open starter for anyone ( @cardinalstart ) Location: Town Square Event: Halloween

Leo appreciated the fact that some of the stalls that had set up for the holiday, he was having a bit of trouble at the one he was currently at. They'd crafted an entire menu of Halloween-themed mixed drinks, which was fine, Leo appreciated the spirit of it. The problem was that he didn't have any idea of what they were, and the bartender (dressed like Frankenstein) was being annoyingly vague. There were drinks with names like "Very Bloody Mary," "Witch's Cauldron," "Macabre Brew," "Pumpkin Bomb," "Vampire's Kiss," and "Spider Cocktail," among others. All of these intrigued Leo, but he wasn't sure he wanted to risk the drink being something gross.

And he wouldn't have to risk if the bartender would just tell him what was in the drink. Leo asked again, but all the bartender said was that "all will be revealed for $5.99," and then he'd do some sort of weird, loud laugh that he obviously thought was spooky. "Dude, I'm going to need you to stop with the laugh," Leo said, almost pleaded, running his fingers through his hair. His head was pounding. To the bartender, he said, "Come on, it's my birthday. Just tell me what's in even one of them." When the bartender wouldn't budge, Leo turned to the person next to him, and he asked, "What about you? Do you know what's in any of these drinks? You can skip the Spider Cocktail though because I don't like the sound of that one." His fake spear that had been resting against the bar started to fall, Leo grabbing it quickly, and he explained, "I'm King Leonidas of Sparta. It seemed appropriate since that's my name, Leonidas." Leo had really gone all out, and he was looking good. That wasn't arrogance, it was just an objective observation. Obviously though he'd skipped the helmet, not wanting to hide his hair away.

[coldxxwinter]

Closed starter: @ritualove Location: Winter's house

Standing at one of his hives, Winter replaced the last frame, having just finished harvesting some of the honey and beeswax. His family had a sprawling backyard, so he had been able to plant different flowers and such all around so as to get different types of honey, and this particular one was near a patch of wildflowers. Some thought the differences in flavor were subtle and hard to detect, but Winter had gotten quite skilled at it. That made sense though because he had been eating honey for as long as he could remember, long before he had even started beekeeping, and his dad had taught him a lot. He was like whatever the honey version of a sommelier was, and Winter had learned so much from him. Thinking about his dad caused a twinge of sadness inside Winter. It wasn't like his dad - or his mom for that matter - were dead, but they hadn't been home in awhile, and he missed them. But Winter had his bees at least. He rarely even wore a beekeeper's suit anymore unless they seemed especially feisty, and today was the same, Winter just outside in a sweater and jeans as he went about with his beekeeping duties. Everything felt so peaceful out here, and nothing seemed as bad as when he was with his bees. Luckily the accident hadn't erased Winter's ability to care for them in the slighest.

Alas, there were ways the accident had had a strong effect on Winter, and chief among them were his memory. So when he heard a car pulling up his driveway, Winter groaned because he realized he'd forgotten something. Of course he had, he always did. At least he was done with his beekeeping for the day, so he whispered a goodbye to the bees, and then Winter rushed inside to greet Annette at the door. It had been his idea to hang out too, he remembered that now, and Winter was mad at himself for forgetting.

[deepbluexocean]

Closed starter: @theartdoctor Location: The Cardinal Hill Art Gallery

Ocean was mesmerized. Though he'd been living in Cardinal Hill for a little while now, he hadn't gotten out much. Most of the time he only went to places like work or the grocery store or occasionally to get coffee, choosing to spend the rest of his time at home (or at his brother's home he supposed it was). Every time he went out, Ocean felt like everyone was watching him, assessing him, silently judging his clothes or the way he walked or his body or something. There were so many things he would change about himself if he could, almost everything, and Ocean knew that if he was thinking these things, other would be too. So he'd been spending quite a bit of time closed up in his brother's basement, which he was using as his studio, not that Ocean was ever happy with any of the pieces he created.

But some days were better. He wasn't sure what was different about today, but Ocean had woken up feeling a little less self-conscious, and he wasn't going to waste that feeling. Since coming to Cardinal Hill, he had been wanting to go the art gallery, but he had been avoiding it. While part of Ocean thought he might get inspired there, another part of him thought he'd just get discouraged seeing all of the superior artists. However, buoyed by his good mood today, Ocean had decided to just do it. Unfortunately, it was having the effect he had thought it might: all of these artists were so talented, and Ocean would never be as good. Even so, it was still nice seeing what these artists had created. As he stood staring at a large painting hanging on the walls, someone came to stand beside him, looking at the same piece. "It's so good, isn't it?" Ocean said, surprised by the fact that he was talking a stranger. He was lost in the art though, making him just very slightly more outgoing than usual.

[blackcatxmagic]

Brook was glad that Dolores didn't ask him about all the things he wasn't saying. That was a much heavier conversation than he was willing to have with her or almost anyone (the only person being someone back in Salem he might never see again). Looking at the young witch, Brook could see the wheels turning in her head, and he didn't know if it was an extension of his powers that told him what she was thinking (sometimes that still happened even if it wasn't an active use of his abilities...at least Brook didn't think it was an active use of them) or if he could just tell because he'd been in her place before, but he told the girl, "A lot of magic is intuition, figuring things out as you go, listening to yourself. That's all normal; uncertainty is normal while you're learning. It takes time to get a firm grasp on your powers."

As the conversation continued, Brook told Dolores, "Hey, I'm not saying that you've got to flaunt it or even that you should, and if you don't want to tell anyone else, that's well within your rights. I just...I don't want you to be constantly afraid or paranoid either. Cardinal Hill is different from other towns. It's why I chose this place when I left Salem." Cardinal Hill and Salem were both hotspots for witches, and Brook had thought it would help ease his transition. At Dolores's question, Brook considered it, and he said, "You know, a patient the other day was just telling me about a few places we could check out. Apparently there are places in town secret to humans that are just for witches, a lot of them hidden rooms or basements of other establishments. I wrote them down, but some of the places I remember are a secret section of Family Paws, a hidden basement below Little Red Barn Antiques, and a backroom at The Twilight Cauldron. Maybe we could check some of these places out sometime?" Brook thought Dolores might feel better if he accompanied her.

.

It was inevitable for her to wonder what 'things he shouldn't have' Brook was referring to. He looked rather glum when talking about it, so Dolores kept her mouth shut, and allowed her imagination to fill the gaps. Whatever it had happened, if it turned Brook off from using magic for quite a long time, it had to be big. Maybe someday he would tell her what it was, if he felt comfortable enough... And then, then Dolores might tell him some secrets of her own, too.

Dolores thought for a moment, where and when she felt her powers most strongly. Usually it was just a constant feeling of repressed energy, as if she was holding back a scream. She didn't feel it more or less strongly at any specific time, apart from getting a sense of relief if she used magic after a long time without doing so. Like checking they were still there, and that she hadn't imagined it. But regarding connection... No, there was nothing she could think of. Maybe it was just a matter of discovering it step by step, as she kept experimenting.

"Oh... Okay, I get it," she said, a bit embarrassed for being so paranoid. "It's just that I've always wondered how people would react, if they would be scared, or angry, or run away, or want to... I don't know. But yes, you're right. Most people would just try to find some kind of reasoning, rather than accept it's real magic." In any case, if any other witch saw her doing something with her powers, at least there was the chance they could recognize each other, and hopefully join some sort of network or coven. That was what she wanted the most, Dolores realized, and meeting Brook allowed her to take one step closer. "Do you know of any particular witches here, or of any special place witches might hang?" Even if he didn't know any, maybe he did know of somewhere they might gather.

[conorxsurvives]

Closed starter: @zoaoliveira (Starting) Location: The Settlement

Even though Conor had been in Arcadia for a year now, and even though he was a guard and had been on the settlement many times before, there was still a lot he didn't know about it. Maybe if he talked to people more or asked more questions, he might have a better idea of things, but he kept to himself a lot. That had been true even before Garrett had died, but his reclusiveness had increased dramatically since his husband's death. And since coming to Arcadia, well...there were many day stretches where he barely spoke at all. It was a lonely existence, but it after so long living in such an isolated way, sometimes Conor felt like he had forgotten how to interact with people in a normal way. So he saved his words for when they counted, and he tried to keep to himself as much as he could without coming across as rude (he'd been raised to be polite, and it was ingrained in him now). But lately Conor had begun feeling more like he was part of the community, which was actually something new for him; before Arcadia, he'd lived alone in the forest, but now he lived in what could only be described as a town, albeit a twisted, shadowed version of one. So he found himself feeling just a little more comfortable around the residents of Arcadia. But while the Settlement still felt very mysterious to him, Conor still headed in that direction. He had a job to do today.

As a guard, Conor was given certain responsibilities, and after doing this for a year, he was beginning to be trusted with more important jobs. Today was one such day. As he reached the Settlement, Conor thought about Zoa, whom he would be accompanying today. Like most of the residents of Arcadia, Conor didn't know much about her. They were in town meetings together, and Conor's impression of her was that she was very passionate about her role as a scout. Zoa always seemed to have quite a lot to say; Conor thought she had probably spoken more in a single meeting than he had in every meeting combined. But he still respected her point of view - Zoa had been here a lot longer than him, after all. And Conor respected her bravery, knowing that a scout was a dangerous job.

People around the settlement knew who Conor was by this point, if not by name then by face at least, so no one questioned why he was there. He found the place he was meant to meet Zoa, waiting for her to join him, and as he did so, Conor adjusted the hatchet strapped to his thigh (he'd fashioned a sort of holster out of re-purposed strips of leather), making sure it was easy accessible. Similarly, Conor had his axe strapped to his bag. The job they were doing wasn't the most dangerous he'd experienced in Arcadia, but he'd learned to always be prepared in this town.

[leonidasxx]

Closed starter for Corey ( @innocentcurse ) Location: Hometown Groceries, hair care aisle

Leo had a secret, one he had kept from everyone, even Arjun. Okay, so Leo had a lot of secrets, like the fact that his maniacal father was trying to find him, prompting him and his mother to move around all over the world for the last 25 years of his life. That was one secret Leo never, ever planned to tell anyone, and then there was the secret that he drank too much, which was one Leo worried he'd someday reveal - someday soon. But right up there with his other biggest secrets was this: Leo spent a lot of time on his hair.

Over the years - once Leo had learned the power of his hair - he had spent quite a bit of time learning how to take care of it. He'd tried so many different products, tried different ways to style it, even tried to dye it once, though his dark hair hadn't taken to the color well (and the less said about the time he'd bleached it, the better). Leo had tried different lengths and styles as well before settling into his current hair situation, which had achieved a higher level of hair transcendence. But Leo didn't want people to know he spent a lot of time on his hair because part of that higher level of hair superiority was making it look like he didn't spend a lot of time on it. What Leo aimed for when it came to his hair was to make it look like he'd just rolled out of bed and just naturally looked that way, and truthfully that was how it worked sometimes. But then other times - especially after a bender - Leo would wake up with his hair a mess, looking like he'd just been through a tornado. Luckily, Leo had honed his hair care skills by this point and knew just what to do in those cases.

But now in addition to a hair-related secret, he had a hair-related problem: they had stopped making the line of hair products he liked the best. The company had gone under, which Leo couldn't fathom because as far as he was concerned, the quality of their products was amazing; Leo had even wondered if they were magically-infused, though he ended up deciding that would be extremely difficult given the scale of product distribution. Although he had a bit of his hair products left, Leo needed to find a suitable replacement, and as he looked at the various products in the aisles, he was at a loss. What shampoos and conditioners and pomades and serums and everything else would work best? It was an important decision.

Leo was so lost in thought as he examined each product that he didn't immediately realize someone had joined him in the aisle, but eventually he saw the figure out of the corner of his eye. Working to look disinterested in the products, like he didn't need all these fancy items to make his hair look as incredible as it looked (he totally did), Leo turned slightly to look at the man next to him. And immediately Leo froze because whoa, this guy had good hair. In fact, as he looked at the other man, Leo thought, Well shit...I've got competition for the best hair in Cardinal Hill. But this was an opportunity, and Leo wouldn't waste it. "Hey man," he said, still trying to act aloof, "which of these works best? I usually just let my hair do what it wants, but lately I've been trying a little harder to take care of it." Leo shrugged, acting like he didn't really care that much even though he was desperate for the man with the second-best hair in Cardinal Hill to give him his advice.

[fivetrench]

One time someone reblogged that “tumblr is the worst place for people with moral ocd” post because I called them an asshole for complaining about Palestinians in their inbox begging for help because apparently the asks sounded too “guilt-trippy”.

[blackcatxmagic]

When he saw the other sign his response, Winter signed back, 'Sweaters are good for that too. I love sweaters. It still amazed him how easily this all came to him; it was like it wasn't even a conscious thought, coming as easily as speaking did. Winter just wished he knew how he knew sign language, but he was glad in this case. 'I don't like big events either,' Winter signed. The biggest events he went to were those in Cardinal Hill, which always had a small town vibe anyway. 'They're...a lot,' he signed. 'Too many people.'

There was something so nice about this interaction with Sujin. It felt so nice, and Winter realized he didn't normally shop with people. Maybe he should do it more often. 'I wear a lot of sweaters' he confirmed. 'They're so cozy.' Winter laughed as he signed this, and then he spotted a colorful short that was bordering on garish, but Winter liked it. 'This is a lot' he signed, 'but I like it. The pattern is cool. What do you think?'

         At the other's question, Sujin pursed their lips. Would he need sweaters for any type of event? They didn't think they would, maybe in the future, but the young witch wasn't that interested in going to any big events and in fact rater avoided them to begin with.

Shaking his head, Sujin brought up his hand, signing to the other: 'No, just for regular life things,' they smiled, pointing to themself. 'No big events for me, I don't like them,' he shook his head, not going into it any further. The witch didn't feel like bothering their possibly new friend with any bad emotions big events brought with them for him. 'I just need more colour in my life, no more black and grey sweaters,' he smiled. 'Do you wear a lot of sweaters?'

[forestxleo]

(closed for @malltms )

Ugh. That was what Leo was thinking as he looked at the flier pinned to the bulletin board at The Blue Sparrow. It was colorful to the point of garishness, and there were too many exclamation points for his liking; he could already tell that this 'Reina' person was going to bubbly and cheerful, and he was already feeling exhausted just thinking about it. But this was the only flier that advertised guitar lessons, and Leo needed them because teach himself wasn't going as well as he would have hoped. While he knew the basic chords, he felt sort of stuck now, and he knew he'd need more than a book, even with his musical aptitude (he generally picked up the basics of various instruments relatively easily). For a moment, Leo looked around the board to make sure there weren't any other fliers hidden underneath others, perhaps one advertising guitar that didn't look like a box of crayons had thrown up on it, but this was all there was. So Leo took a pen out of his pocket and jotted the number down on his hand with a sigh.

The next morning, Leo sprang awake suddenly, not sure for a moment where he was. Then he realized he'd fallen asleep at the table in his apartment, half of a beer nearby. As he reached for it to throw it out, Leo noticed the writing on his hand, and he groaned because he realized it was smudged. He could barely make it out now, but he thought he could just make out the number. So he walked over to his phone in the kitchen and dialed, holding the receiver with his shoulder while he tried to open a bottle of Tylenol at the same time. When someone answered, Leo asked, "Yeah, is this..." He paused, trailing off as he tried to read the smudged name he'd written on his hand. "Is this, um, Rina?" Leo wondered. "I think it's Rina at least?" And then suddenly he remembered, exclaiming, "Reina! That's it. Is this Reina?" He knew he was not coming off well in this conversation with the stranger, especially since he had yet to mention what he was calling about, so Leo quickly explained, "I saw your flier about the guitar lessons and was wondering, uh...if you were still accepting new students."

[copperxxgalileo]

(closed for @urdamage )

Copper used to be into comics when he was younger, but then things had happened, and suddenly he had other priorities and interests that took precedence. Some of that was Deacon of course - new love often felt more important than anything else after all. But Deacon was gone now, and Copper was looking for ways to fill his days. Sometimes he didn't feel like the living dead, felt like he could live his life and be happy again, but when he got too stuck in his head, he felt like he'd died along with his husband. Sometimes Copper couldn't comprehend the fact that he was a widower at 27. Such things were difficult to process for anyone he supposed, but Copper would spiral if he even tried. So he definitely needed something else beyond his psyche to get lost in, and that was what led him to Solstice Comics. He wasn't sure if he could rekindle his past interest, but Copper had fond memories of losing himself in the fantastical stories - everything else had always seemed so trivial while he was reading these epic stories. As he walked into the shop, Copper began looking around the shelves of comics, but then he glanced over at the man behind the counter, and that immediately took all of his attention. Whoa, Copper thought, looking at the man. He was incredibly hot, but a second later, Copper was distracted by him for a different reason: he looked familiar. It only took Copper a few seconds to put it all together, and he realized he knew the guy. Walking toward the counter, Copper asked, "Junior?" They hadn't exactly been friends in high school, but they had known each other a long time, and Copper was surprised by how pleased he was to see him. When Junior turned his head to look at him, Copper knew he was right about his identity. "Hey man," Copper said, smiling at Junior. "It's been a long time."

[deepxbluexocean]

(closed for @enshrikes )

Although Ocean liked the colder weather, liked the snow and the crisp air of fall, there was just something special about the weather getting warmer. Today was a day like that. Ocean was on the commune, which was pretty typical of the last couple of days since he'd been off work and hadn't yet started classes at the university, and he was out in one of the fields looking up at the sky, thinking about a lot of different things. It had been more difficult than he had expected to try and get back to his normal life. After he'd ended things with Grant, Ocean had expected to go back to the way he was before, but he'd been shocked to realize that this might just be him now. Even with Grant gone, Ocean still felt the same way, felt sad and worthless most of the time. Grant had always made Ocean feel like an idiot, like he was stupid and not good at anything; he'd been the most critical person Ocean had ever encountered. And after awhile, Grant's view of him had wormed its way inside his head, and now Ocean couldn't shake it. And to make it even worse, Ocean knew people could tell that he was different now, especially those on the commune who had known Ocean most - if not all - of his life. And sometimes it just got too hard to pretend like he was fine; sometimes it was too difficult for them to see him like this. So Ocean was spending the afternoon alone, lying in the field and staring up at the sky, just enjoying the sunshine. It was easier to spend time with the animals. Growing up on the commune had made Ocean an avowed animal lover, and he felt so at peace in this moment with his favorite cow lying on one side and one of the commune cats on the other. Sometimes it felt like they were the only ones he could talk to, though Ocean knew that was more because of himself - Ocean had no shortage of people he could talk to. The problem was that it was difficult to talk about everything he was feeling.

As he laid there on in the field, Ocean heard someone approach from behind, and he looked upside down at the person on the edge of the field to see a familiar face. "Hey!" Ocean exclaimed, climbing to his feet and turning toward the veterinarian. Despite the fact that he'd just wanted to be alone a few moments earlier, Ocean was happy to see the vet. They had a sort of working relationship given that Ocean was always bringing animals he found to be assessed by the vet, plus he saw the man all the time on the commune when he came to take care of the animals. As he approached, Ocean asked, "What do you have going on today?"

[blackcatxmagic]

"Your dad really said that?" Dimi asked, an amused smirk on his face. "He must be a cool guy then. Don't get me wrong, when my dad found out I was bisexual, he was totally on board with it. But he never had sayings like that - your father is a wise man." Dimi was glad to have casually worked into conversation that he was receptive to whatever was happening here, even if it was just innocent flirting. Jack was cute and funny, and Dimi was definitely enjoying the conversation with the man. "If you're looking for a handsome man to hang your hat on, I'm sure we can find someone here," Dimi teased, pretending to look around the bar before turning back to Jack and laughing. "Sugar?" Dimi asked, smirking once more. He kind of liked how that sounded. "You're full of compliments tonight," Dimi went on. "Careful because it might go to my head." Adjusting the hat slightly, Dimi asked, "Do you think I should go the full cowboy route? Chaps and the whole deal?" Yes, Dimi wanted to put the image of himself in chaps into Jack's head. It was a little shameless, but only a little.

Once on the dance floor, Dimi was feeling a little self-conscious. He started off stiff, trying to find his rhythm, but Jack had a way of making him feel more comfortable. Soon he was falling into line a little bit with the other man, loosening up a bit, and it helped that Jack was touching him. There was definitely some heat between them. Whether or not it would go anywhere remained to be seen, but even if nothing happened, it was still nice to flirt and talk with a handsome man. For Jack's part, he was moving with so much grace, like he'd done this a million times, and Dimi was transfixed; there was something about the way the man moved his body that was so enticing, and for a moment he stopped dancing and just watched. Yeah...Dimi was in trouble.

They kept dancing and talking until eventually Jack grabbed his hand, moving in close. Dimi had a few inches on the man, and he turned to face him, looking down into his eyes and smiling. They weren't quite dancing anymore, not line dancing at least, but Dimi didn't much care right now. "Photographer, yeah," he confirmed. "Well my passion is more landscapes and the natural moments. Basically I like capturing images of things the way they really are, finding beauty in the reality of things. But admittedly photoshoots for things like weddings and graduations and other special events is what pays the bills." Dimi laughed, and he did like taking those kinds of photos. It just wasn't his favorite thing. "What about you, Jack?" Dimi asked, looking at the man and smiling still. "Would ever want me to photograph you?" Dimi was pretty sure he could find the beauty in Jack without even trying.

After they danced for a bit longer, Dimi was feeling much more fluid in his motions, and he was having a good time with the other man. Still, the dance floor wasn't the best place to have a conversation, so Dimi asked, "Do you want a drink? I'll buy?" And then he grabbed Jack's hand, warming to the touch, and he led him back to the bar. Sitting in a stool, Dimi asked, "What are you having?"

Jack grinned, his hand resting casually on Dimi’s shoulder as they made their way toward the dance floor. "My old man used to tell me that there was nothing better than finding a handsome man to hang your hat on." Or, maybe he would have if Jack had a father and not some series of stories and lies wrapped up to be a father-figure. It was fun for him, to delve into the what-ifs and could have beens with no shame over what truly was. Jack appreciated that Dimi wasn't going to be a stick-in-the-mud and refuse to dance. Jack would have let him refuse because he had learned that there was only so far he could push someone, but he liked when people gave into his little nudging and playful invitations.

“Oh tink's tits - not magic.” Jack laughed, letting his drawl linger as he tossed his head back and laughed. “Fuck, every person wants a magic spell or somethin' as a reason why they look good. Maybe, Sugar, you look good because you look good and the hat only helps you along." The honky-tonk bar had seen better days, and the floor was worn with the slide of boots and stomp of heels. It was why Jack liked it so much. There was history in the walls, in the dingy lights and hap-hazard decorations that looked like they came from a flea-market which had specialized in grandfather's barn chic.

Jack’s hand lingered a moment longer before he stepped back to give Dimi some space. There was an art to flirting and being the center of attention. Too much contact and you're needy. Too little and you're not interested. Just enough to keep the person interested -- there was the balance, and he caught the subtle way Dimi leaned into his touch. There it was. Like a fish on a line, Dimi was caught ... at least for now. "Come on, Cowboy." He said, hooking an arm around Dimi's waist. Line dancing wasn't so much an art, but it could be fun. He could prop his chin on Dimi's shoulder; Dimi's back pressed to his front -- he could, even, press a coy kiss to the exposed line of his neck before he stepped away only far enough to where he wouldn't tangle his legs with the other man's.

"Line dance. Two step... what's it matter, really?" he asked, catching the beat with ease. He wasn't a professional, there was no teacher-trained perfect lines. There wasn't any kind of rigidity to his steps, only the smooth moves of someone who had learned that music could fill the soul and infuse the bones -- all he had to do was trust that his bones could pick up the rhythm.

"Photographer, you said?" he asked, as he caught Dimi's hand and stepped in close instead of pulling the other to him. He liked to give and take in things. He spun under Dimi's arm only to settle back against him. "People? Places? What's your poison?" he asked.

[kissmygoodluckcharm]

Any headcanons you've been looking for an excuse to share ? :0

OH YEAH

jack is taller then clef. i livw for tall & lanky and short and chubby things

gears, iceberg, kondraki, clef, bright and glass r all extremely queer

bright and 049 are best buds (jack comes back even if 049 accidentally touches him)

jack has weed hidden in his office.

jack prtty much lives at site 19. he is a workaholic and has to be dragged away from his works when he gets in the zone

[that-sweet-jester]

poor Sevika's been embarrassed ever since, yet still stuck around😔✊