#the running in the woods perspective shot

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

why is twin peaks actually unsettling me like like im making this post after pausing THAT scene in the red curtain room place episode 3 because hello what the fuck is going on

[yuff7e]

⋆.ೃ how tanjiro, inosuke, & zenitsu react to their s/o turning into a demon ࿔*:･ angst / violence

gender neutral reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * tanjiro !!

- as he was fighting a demon he heard you yell

- he turned to look in the direction he had heard you but quickly disregarded it to finish off the demon he was fighting

- everyone yells when they’re fighting a demon, it’s natural

- after he cut the demons head he ran in your direction, speeding through the woods

- finally, he got to you

- but once he got there something seemed off, he noticed your scent and you laying on the ground twitching

- he immediately rushed over to your side, once he got a better sniff of you he instantly backed up

- “there’s no way… [name]?”

—

your twitching body was the only thing he saw when he made his way through the shrubbery and trees, bolting over to you and kneeling down - picking your head up in his hands.

he noticed an absurd scent coming from you at first, he had assumed the demon had covered its scent on you and that’s what he was smelling - but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

once he picked your head up and your neck was exposed closer to his face, did he notice. he dropped you gently and hopped back, he could hear a silent grumble escape your lips as he placed his hand on his sword. “[name]..?” he whispers.

instantly, your eyes shot open and you jumped up - growling towards the boy. tanjiros eyes widened and he took a step away from you, “[name]! what happened?” he clutched his sword gently before you started running at him.

he pulled it out swiftly and dodged your attack by slicing your arm and kicking you to the ground, he could have easily cut your head off but he wouldn’t have done that to you. he needed to get you help.

he thought you were like nezuko at first, she growled and jumped on him too until she figured out he was family. if he could get you to believe he was someone close to you, maybe he could change your perspective and not attack him.

“[name]! it’s me, tanjiro. please, don’t do this.” he pleads, holding his sword in your direction as you slowly kneel up off the ground staring right at him. your fangs sticking out of your mouth in a sharp snarl, claws bared, and your body had grown 2x.

tanjiro sniffed the air towards you and could sense fear, he knew you were scared and he was too. “[name] it’s me! it’s tanjiro! we need to get you help! how did this happen?” he could feel the tears stinging the back of his eyes but he didn’t have time to cry, he had to figure out how to calm you down first.

suddenly, nezuko jumps out of the trees - running straight towards you. she had felt tanjiros heartbeat and yours and that you were a demon attacking him. she couldn’t tell it was you, so she slashed your face and you stumbled back weakly - falling onto the ground.

“nezuko stop!” tanjiro yelled, jumping in between you two - holding nezuko back with his arm as she tries to push her way towards you. “nezuko no! it’s [name]!” once nezuko hears your name, she stops hesitantly but her guard isn’t down yet. you twitch on the ground for a bit before sitting back up.

once you look up at tanjiro and nezuko, tears fall down your face. you couldn’t tell who they were but you knew they were people special to you and that you didn’t want to hurt them. your body began to have a physical reaction to their presence while your mind raced through ways of how you wanted to kill them.

the smell of human blood coursing through the boys artery’s had enough power for you to stand up again, lowly growling but not plunging at him. tanjiro noticed your heartbroken state and slowly creeped closer to you, sword facing forward.

“[name], me and nezuko are going to take you back to the butterfly mansion and get you better! you will be okay, please come with us.” tanjiro begs, hesitantly aiming his sword towards the ground as a peace offering. you stand there for a moment, their scent writhing through your nostrils and into your brain - signaling all of your feral instincts to take over. but you stop.

you gaze at them for a while longer, before slowly kneeling down onto your knees - clutching your haori with your claws, shredding the material underneath. nezuko watched you intently as tanjiro helped you towards the butterfly mansion, shinobu took over and examined your new state.

“they’re a demon now, but it will be alright. i injected a small sedative that will hold their instinct of eating humans at bay, but they still need to wear a muzzle like nezuko does.” tanjiro sighed at shinobu’s words, he couldn’t believe this had happened - but as long as you were okay, that’s all that mattered.

—

⋆·˚ ༘ * inosuke !!

- he was struggling with a demon himself whenever he heard you yell

- he whipped around and immediately ran towards you

- inosukes demon following behind him quickly

- he eventually made it to where you were, throwing kicks and punches and slashes at the demon in front of you.

- the demon kicked you to the ground, throwing you across the terrain like a rag doll

- inosuke instantly jumped in, helping you and you both battled together side by side

- inosukes demon and your own teamed up against you both, while you were fighting one of the demons grabbed you and sunk their long fangs into your neck

- inosuke screamed and threw his sword at the demon causing the demon to drop you

- with the scene that unfolded in front of him he got a burst of energy, slashing both of the demons heads off in one final blow before kneeling down beside you and shaking you

—

“[name]! [name]!” inosuke yelled in your ear, shaking you violently as you laid there. your body moved like a rag doll as he shook you around, trying to wake you up. suddenly, your body started to twitch and he jumped back hastily - watching you.

you slowly opened your eyes and noticed the boar man standing infront of you, you bared your fangs and sat up swiftly - inching backwards. inosuke was shocked, that demon had turned you into a demon? but how? only muzan kibutsuji could do that.

“[name]! what the hell! are you okay? what’s happening!?” he shouted frantically, grabbing his swords with both hands and standing back - watching your figure sway drunkly, thirsty for human blood.

you lunged at him, causing him to duck and you flew over the top of his head and into the ground behind him. he spun around, facing you the opposite side of the dirt now - “[name]! what the hells the matter with you? stop acting crazy!”

inosukes yelling was deaf to your ears and you lunged at him once more, finally knocking yourself into him. he quickly shook you off and threw you in the other direction, “are you a demon now or something? how is that possible?!”

before he could continue yelling, shinobu appears out of the tree above - jumping down onto the ground gently beside inosuke. “it looks like [name] has turned into a demon, stand back inosuke.” shinobu pulls her sword out of her case, aiming it towards you.

“no! don’t kill them!” inosuke begged, screaming in shinobu’s face. “i’m not going to kill them, but we need to restrain them. go get help and i’ll hold them off for now!” inosuke quickly followed her advice and ran towards the butterfly mansion where he got help and you were instantly restrained by the other hashiras.

eventually put into resistance, you laid on the bed - asleep. shinobu had given you a sedative to keep you asleep as she ran blood tests and other samples. inosuke waited impatiently, hovering outside the door for you.

eventually shinobu slid the door open, which let inosuke jump inside and scramble over to your bed. shinobu told inosuke that you had become a demon, but that you were sedated. “they won’t have an appetite for humans, but they need to wear a muzzle like nezuko in order to restrain their impulses.”

shinobu walked out of the room leaving you and inosuke alone, inosuke stared at you for a while - how peaceful you looked when you were sleeping. he wanted to yell and wake you up, but he knew that wouldn’t be a good idea and wouldn’t have worked anyways.

—

⋆·˚ ༘ * zenitsu !!

- zenitsu was being held up by a demon 10x his size, laughing in his face as hot tears slid down his cheeks

- shivering in fear as he was only mere inches away from the face of the demon that could’ve killed him if you hadn’t stepped in.

- swooping with a blow to the leg, the demon dropped zenitsu and grabbed you instead

- zenitsu yelled for you, but there was no hope.

- the demon had began to attack you, clawing at your chest and stomach as it sunk its fangs into your neck

- zenitsu screamed angrily, pulling out his sword and attacking the demon

- his anger seeing you hurt was enough for him to slash the demons head off in only a few blows

- the demon fell back, dropping you - but zenitsu caught you before you hit the ground

- “[name]…?”

—

zenitsu hugged your body as he held you in his arms, “[name]…?? please wake up!! i’m so sorry!! i killed the demon, its over now!! please, please wake up!!” he begged, brushing hair out of your face and squeezing you tightly again.

as he was hugging you, he felt you start to move. before he could look at your face again, you growled loudly and kicked in his hold - causing him to let go of you.

“[name]?!? what’s wrong!! oh god, are you a demon?!” he jumps back, eyes welling up with tears one more. you twitch on the ground for a bit before sitting up, staring at the blonde haired boy. your fangs peeked out of your mouth as you snarled at him, jumping at his body.

zenitsu screamed, kicking you and shoving you back away from him before turning and running towards the butterfly mansion. you followed behind, jumping through the trees. once zenitsu had made it to the butterfly mansion a few hashiras noticed your state and immediately restrained you, handing you over to shinobu.

she ran a few tests as zenitsu cried to inosuke and tanjiro about what had happened, eventually shinobu came outside and called zenitsu over. “yes?? is [name] okay?? please tell me they didn’t kill them. oh god!!” zenitsu was frantic as he rambled before shinobu hushed him and explained what had happened and what she had done.

zenitsu absorbed the information and peeked into your room, you lay on the bed asleep. zenitsu immediately broke out into sobs as he made his way over to your bed, looking over you. “[name]… you even look beautiful while you’re sleeping.” he put his hand against your cheek and it was cold, he shivered and pulled it back. if this was the new new, he’d have to learn to live with it - because he loved you.

—

that’s it !! idk if i like this one too much, i’ve had a long day and got this idea so it’s a lil bit rushed.. but i rlly wanted to write this !! i have a few more ideas.. if u wanna request, they’re open !! don’t be afraid to request ANYTHING !!

[casualya]

Dance with Astarion (rainy evening in the woods)

My Tav is a warlock bard, but she doesn't know how to dance and perform in public at all, hopefully Astarion can teach her how to move a little better 😅. --- Oh yeah, that's Wyll's scene, and I don't think that dance is really in character for Astarion, but I wanted to edit this scene with him. And I changed the location of the characters to be in the night forest. I love evening or night forest and I love seeing Astarion in the moonlight. I really miss the changing weather in the game. Here I tried to create the atmosphere of a rainy evening using Reshade preset - color correction, background blurs and rain mask. This rain looks fake, but I couldn't do anything better, sorry. I can't, unfortunately, make a script that can run realistic rain in the game. This effect doesn't refract light, it doesn't reflect light or color, it's just a mask, it's constant, if you change the perspective or angle of the shot, it won't change in any way either. I think to create a video with rain is better to use the effects of video editors, but to create screenshots this preset can be useful. I will be making it for uploading on Nexus. This mod must be used to have the effect of wet skin 💧- "Sweaty Crown Of Wet King"

You can see the full scene and description of the modifications on my little YT channel here.

[dynamicity-keysmash]

The Democratic party needs to stop using female candidates for human sacrifice.

That may be hyperbolic, but it is true that both female candidates for president were put forth in years with strong headwinds and rough political environments for the democratic party.

Hillary Clinton ran after two consecutive Democratic terms that left voters feeling uneasy about the nation's economic recovery. I don't think it's widely understood how difficult it is to win a third consecutive term for a political party. I think that if a more mainstream Tea Party Republican had been nominated instead of Trump, as was expected, Republicans would've even had a shot at the popular vote. After all, Republicans did win the congressional House popular vote in 2016. When factoring in a strong electoral college bias on top of the general national mood, it was never going to be an easy year for Democrats.

I do acknowledge that if Clinton had run a scrappier campaign with a central narrative more focused on working-class perspectives, she could've won. She was certainly a very flawed candidate, but my point is that 2016 was not a fundamentally easy political environment for Democrats in the first place.

Harris, on the other hand, was quite plainly fed into a wood chipper. It's finally a woman's turn again, just in time for her to enjoy a political environment in which 75% of the country thinks we're on the wrong track, the party's incumbent president has horrible approval ratings, and she has 3 months to catch up to an opposing presidential campaign that has effectively been weaving its narrative for 9 years. 2024 was an awful political environment for Democrats.

Given that the Democratic party has never nominated a female candidate in an election with a favorable political environment, It is an absolute tragedy that many are coming to the conclusion that Democrats categorically shouldn't run a woman in 2028, which is likely to be a highly viable election for the party. A woman definitely could've won in 2008. A woman likely could've won in 2020 as well. We cannot allow the Democratic party to continue to save fundamentally advantageous elections for male candidates and only give women a shot when the party's standing is shaky at best.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

🎵 Whoooo wants a nice little short 'n sweet post-Prime one shot with Sonic and Tails and some angst and also fluff and cuddles and nightmares and sadness and cuteness and the implementing of that one headcanon from the post I made about Sonic getting more cuddly and clingy when he's hurt or upset??? 🎵

Sonic Prime - Healing Hugs

Something had happened in the cave with Sonic. Tails was absolutely certain of it.

At first, it had just been pleasant changes, pleasant surprises. Sonic had suddenly switched to being a 100% team player, had started paying attention to each and every thing Tails instructed, and seemingly communicated with Shadow just as the Ultimate Lifeform arrived out of nowhere to Chaos Control the Paradox Prism to who-knows-where.

Then there had been the more weird changes.

Every time Tails opened his mouth, Sonic would drop everything to listen to every word with laser focus, even if it was about something as simple as what he was going to get for dinner or some cool comics he'd read. He was giving a lot more hugs, too, far more than usual. Sonic used to be a lot more selective about physical affection, but now, Tails couldn't seem to get through 30 minutes of a day without his older brother scooping him up in an embrace, however brief. Not that he was complaining, it was nice.

He kept catching the hedgehog lying around in the grass, fingering the green leaves with utter delight in his eyes. Once he found him on the beach, sitting in a palm tree and singing some kind of pirate-y sounding song. Another time he found him wandering slowly around the woods nearby, talking to the flickies about how pretty the trees were.

Something was off, but Tails couldn't put his finger on it. From his perspective, he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary happen during the battle in the cave, but Sonic's change in behavior made it painfully obvious something had.

Especially when the more negative changes started manifesting.

Not negative in a sense that Sonic was doing anything wrong. But he seemed . . . a little rattled. Some of his hugs were far more than just quick side squeezes. Sometimes he'd stare at Tails with an oddly pensive, faraway look in his eyes.

In bed, one night about a week after the cave incident, Tails found himself tossing and turning. These thoughts were driving him up the wall with how often they'd been occupying his mind lately.

He wanted so badly to sit down with Sonic and ask him what happened. He knew something had happened. But whether Sonic was willing to talk about it was another question entirely. He knew something was different, but he also knew his brother. Sonic didn't like uncomfortable conversations. If he felt unsafe, he would run.

Tails knew better than to confront him with questions that Sonic would likely not want to answer. If he'd wanted to tell Tails what was going on, what was different, he probably would've told him already.

With an exhausted sigh, Tails gave up trying to sleep and sat up in bed, casting a quick glance at the digital clock on his nightstand.

3:47 a.m.

Great. Even when I'm not working on a project, I STILL end up sleep-deprived. He smirked. At least Sonic can't get ticked at me this time, it's not my fault.

Speaking of the Blue Devil, he was right down the hall. Conked out on the couch, where he often slept. In fact, he'd been sleeping there every night for the past week.

Since he couldn't sleep, anyway, Tails slipped out of bed and crept down the hall, having memorized which boards creaked and which ones didn't. He half-hoped Sonic was awake so he'd have someone to talk to, but as he emerged into the living room, he saw his brother sound asleep, half-curled on his side.

Tails blinked and looked closer.

Sonic was asleep, but . . . he was also clinging extra tightly to his pillow. And he looked . . . incredibly stressed.

Was he having a bad dream?

Tails took a couple steps towards the couch until he stood right beside it. In past experiences where he'd found his brother having a nightmare, talking it out rarely helped. Sometimes even waking him up didn't help, either. He usually just wound up disoriented and panicking, and sometimes even ran off to deal with his feelings alone out in the wilderness.

Tails really didn't want him to leave. He also didn't want him to be alone.

He reached out and ever so gently placed his hand over Sonic's clenched fist, both ungloved.

One thing he had discovered about his brother during hard times like this was that he became more clingy. On the rare occasion he was visibly upset, he'd sometimes come up and just hug Tails without a word. When he was sick or injured somehow (and actually allowing himself to be taken care of), he tended to snuggle more. If he was in enough pain, he'd hold onto Tails as tightly as he could. Sometimes he'd do the same with their other friends, but Tails was always his go-to.

Not that it happened very often. Tails only knew these things because he'd known Sonic for most of his life. Sonic had raised him. He'd seen more of Sonic than anyone else had.

Now, he rubbed a finger over his brother's fist for a moment, then very carefully tugged the pillow out of Sonic's unconscious grasp. He set it softly on the floor, then carefully clambered onto the couch next to him, lay down, and hugged him tightly.

Without waking up, Sonic wrapped his arms around him in return and held him close, burying his face between Tails's ears with a barely audible whimper.

Tails could feel his brother's heartbeat racing, so he snuggled in closer and softly began to purr.

And, with time, he felt Sonic start to calm down.

A couple minutes went by, and his heart rate slowed down just a bit. The tension coiled throughout his entire body started to unwind, and his spiked-up quills lowered slightly in a more relaxed position. His ears were still kinda droopy, but he seemed a lot more restful than he had a few minutes ago.

Tails smiled, still bundled up tightly against Sonic. And his smile only grew wider when he felt his brother start purring, too.

There was something infinitely comforting about being held, about snuggling with his brother, the person who loved him to the moon and back. The person he loved in exactly the same way. For those moments, the very problems that had been keeping Tails awake half an hour earlier seemed to fade. He was here, Sonic was here, no words were spoken or needed, and they would be okay.

Tails slept soundly for the rest of the night.

-

The sound of flickies singing from the treetops woke Sonic the next day. He blinked blearily as his eyes came into focus, and he realized that Tails had joined him sometime during the night.

Once upon a time, waking up to find him right there had made him jump. It didn't anymore.

He smiled, carefully adjusting one hand so he could stroke his little brother's bangs and give him a tiny scratch behind one ear. Tails mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and snuggled closer in Sonic's chest.

He grinned wider. Tails hadn't been snuggly to this level in a while. Granted, he'd always been the more snuggly one of the two of them, but still. It kind of reminded Sonic of the first couple years he'd been taking care of Tails, when the kit was between 3 and 4 years old.

His smile faded a little as he thought of Nine at that age, still alone, still being bullied and hurt, with no one to save him and show him the love and care he deserved.

He could only hope that the other Shatterverse variants were showing him such kindness now. The thought that he would never get to see him again made his heart ache in a way he couldn't quell.

Sonic studied Tails's sleeping face, noting the intense similarities and differences between him and Nine. He wondered whether Nine had always existed even before the Shatter event, as a part of his little brother that Tails would never bring to light. Was it the same with Mangey and Sails?

A tiny snort escaped him against his will as he thought about whether Mangey's existence was an implication that a part of Tails just wanted to go a little feral. Sometimes he couldn't blame him.

His suppressed laugh had Tails stirring, blinking open his big blue eyes. He looked back at Sonic, grinning sleepily. "G'morning."

Sonic ruffled his bangs again, smiling as Tails giggled. "G'morning, little buddy."

Stop calling me that!

He froze at the memory of Nine's angry shout, and Tails clearly saw it.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a gentle, inquiring frown, slowly sitting up.

Sonic sighed as he sat up as well, leaning back to stretch, then pulled his little brother close again. "I've got a story for you, bud," he admitted, deciding it was about time to open up about what had really happened in the cave.

Tails gazed up at him with surprise, but then smiled and nodded.

"I'm listening," he replied quietly.

AO3 version

Did I come up with this while hugging a giant pillow during my nap earlier today? Maybe :3

I also maybe just really wanted to implement that headcanon somewhere teehee

[weebsinstash]

Ok so I kept procrastinating but I finally finished Masquerade earlier today and just. Oh my fucking god, kicking my feet, twirling my hair around a finger, giggling ,rewinding, smiling like a GOON, I have THOUGHTS

--Val's red coat is his WINGS and they're glorious. And not to mention he wears that like, slutty open chested black v neck underneath where he's lowkey showing off his nipples too, the slut. The gold heart belt buckle and the matching gold accented accessories too. Ugh. You can't say he doesn't dress up, and I really liked getting to see the full reveal of his body so to speak, the way his violet arms become black fingers, also is he, is he wearing like gold manicured claw cap things sometimes, why is he such a diva, he's so extra

--the Addict music video WASN'T just being artistic, Valentino's smoke CAN become physical actual chains and bondage and oh my gooddddddd I'm using this knowledge for EVIL purposes.

Boom! Sudden third eye opening moment, but remember that post I made about "Val who starts dragging you around on a leash because he's too much taller than you to keep leading you by the hand" ? His lower set of arms could totally hold onto you BUT I can totally see him using these chains all the time now, to drag you around and just restrain you and shit. Ugh. Just. Him having you completely immobilized and helpless and shaking like a chihuahua as he can run his fingers along you and whatever else he wants, listening to you gadp and squirm

-- ok I know the whole point of the poison music video was showing the horrible shit Angel is made to do and how he's dehumanized but like.... obviously, from.. a fetish perspective... you know what I think 😩❤️

Like you can't just show me a shot of Valentino having Angel in his arms and he's got all four arms wrapped around him in like almost an embrace, kissing, KISSING while they fuck. maybe I'm so shy but that's so... intimate, like, ok fuck my ass i guess, that's like sex, whatever, but kissing me on the MOUTH, let alone with tongue? you might as well be looking into my soul or something dofnofjfjg, not to mention Val biting his neck while they do it like you CAN'T me all of that and expect me to be normal!!!

--platonic yandere Husker with an alcoholic Reader though. He forces you into these weird little therapy sessions when yeah he still serves you drinks but he cuts you off when you're fucking plastered, like he enables you until you're having TOO much, amd by that point you're yammering with your loose lips and answering ALL His questions. Siiiiigh I can see him seeing how you're down on your luck and burying your worries and sorrows at the bottom of a bottle , getting so drunk you can barely sit up straight, and he starts getting protective of you, secretly following you to bars when you won't just get drunk at the hotel, making sure your drink doesn't get spiked, having to kick some ass to protect you and drag you home more than once

--i was such a fool. If Valentino is such a, quite frankly, perverted fucking idiot that he LICKS CHARLIE, fucking CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR upon first meeting her, he ABSOLUTELY does creepy shit to his darling day ONE. He CLEARLY has ZERO impulse control: he drinks, he smokes, he forces himself onto other people, he throws things when he loses his temper. He uses his power to be a bully and seeking unrestrained self gratification

--this is completely unrelated to everything else here but Zestial is hot in that like, antiquated charming eldritch evil kind of way. He seems like the sort of creature you could encounter deep within an enchanted woods, you're freshly dead and wind up in a bad part of Pentagram City and this TOWERING gentleman says some shit like "turn back child, there is no safety for you here". He's. He's sexy in that Neflix Castlevania Dracula way where there's an appeal in his age and his wisdom and his composure and just his full-on aesthetic and such. Like bro it's so easy to miss it but he's the oldest of the Overlords and he bowed in respect to Carmilla for what she did. He's chivalrous and loyal and just 👀 got my eye on him...

--bro watching Val manipulate Angel to get Charlie to leave fucking HURT and I've thought about Reader being in that exact scenario SO many times! Valentino is manipulating Angel to control you, and he's manipulating YOU to control Angel. Sure, he'll have Angel make you cry and chase you off so you don't get emotional and interfere with a shoot, or so that you don't sabotage whatever manipulated state he has Angel under at the time, but when you're off on your own drinking and crying and sobbing and feeling oh so horrible and pitiful, then Val is sibling up to you, cooing about, oh how MEAN Angel was to you, he didn't have to be so harsh to someone so sweet--

Could you imagine the fucking. Tiered angst and manipulation of Angel hurting Reader because Val pressured him to, and then Reader going off and getting drunk and being self destructive, and then at your emotional weakest Val is popping in to strike some kind of deal with you or fuck you or whatever, and then Angel blames himself, and here's Valentino, "that wouldn't have happened if you just did what you were told :3c" and Angel is even further under his control because now he's terrified he might "fuck up" and get you really hurt

--siiiiiiiigh imagine like drinking with Angel and you've been down there for like two months and you're idly chit chatting and, something something, you offhandedly mention something like "god fuck Val had me so fucking wasted I could barely sign my employee contract" CUE ANGEL IMMEDIATELY DROPPING WHATEVERS IN HIS HAND AND SHAKING YOU, "what do you MEAN you signed something??? You're just waiting tables, what did you SIGN???" And it turns out Val whipped out like ONE OF THE B I G "types" of contracts for you. God I really want some elaboration on how those contracts work and how Val or any Overlord strikes deals and even gains powers because it's very clear not everyone had the same level of abilities, and also lowkey the power scaling in Hazbin is kinda busted like not to be a dweeb but you've got people running around basically having Quirks

--ALSO THIS IS SO DUMB BUT I HAVE A COMPLAINT SIR. Valentino straight up says "no one watches porn for the dialogue" EXTREMELY INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE. When you've watched enough porn or at the very least you're hunting for a specific fetish, dialogue can be Duper important. You can see 20 different actors do the same scene BUT have a specific pair who, maybe used a specific line that stood out to you and made it unique and made it worth watching. You know for a long while there I was writing smut and feeling like I was doing the same descriptions over and over again and it kind of burnt me out and turned me off and that's when I tried to shift towards more emotional and environmental and thematic sorts of stuff

Listen all I'm saying is I have been ENAMORED like straight up with the idea of Reader becoming the fourth V because you become close to all the Vs and you have your own talents and they all like you and shit. You're able to pitch product ideas to Vox, even help him if you're a programmer or a coder or something, Valentino.... maybe you have magic hammer space pockets and can run him errands or you cook drugs or you're like a sexy bodyguard for him or, he just likes getting drunk and doing drugs with you, and Velvette is that #Bitch who you gossip with who likes to design new shit for you and bounce ideas off of you from time to time. Like the gradual slide of "oh we're all hanging out and they think I'm actually kind of cool," to "oh they keep inviting me to hang out. I feel special. I'm one of the cool kids. Maybe I even have fun powers and they encourage me to be mean and evil and its fun" to then "oh you're straight up shoving new clothes in my face and you keep using this one specific V nickname for me instead of my real name and I stg I don't have personal space anymore and I'm always being crowded by at least one of you literally 24/7"

God just. God. Just. GOD I AM SO WELL FED. I saw what Viv was selling and I got in line and I've finally gotten my food and it is FILLING, my craving for controlling obsessive possessive douchebags is sooooo sated right now 😩❤️

[blchrsworld]

my heart just can’t be faithful for long | billie eilish x fem reader

synopsis. billie and you have been arguing constantly for some time now. after a night out, she starts an argument and you can’t take it anymore.

cw. arguing, verbal fighting, breakup, mentions of cheating, toxic relationship, angst

soundtrack. cry - cigarettes after sex

length. short

The night started nicely as Billie and you went out to party for one of your co-stars all up until a fight erupted between the two of you.

“It doesn’t fucking matter Billie – I never paid any mind to him once tonight!” With Billie following closely behind, you quarreled as you strode into the kitchen and angrily set your Chanel handbag on the counter. With an irate expression on her face, Billie placed her hands on either side of the countertop and said, "You are so full of shit." Her blue eyes met yours.

For almost four months, you and Billie had been having fights on a regular basis. Billie first accused you of cheating on her with your close friend, Jacob Elordi, who was also one of your co-stars in a recent film. Billie would obsess over the friendship, envisioning the worst case scenarios.

The relationship was not ideal because of long distance, especially since you were working on new tv shows and movies while Billie was working on her next album.

The anger that shot through you caused your face to flush, and you detested Billie for having provoked such a reaction in you over such a baseless accusation. Your eyes began to burn and well up with tears.

You confess in a nervous tone, concentrating on your nails to divert your attention from sobbing, "Billie, I can't do this anymore."

“What?” Billie asked in a sharp tone, glancing up at you as she noticed how exhausted you appeared.

When you lifted your head to gaze up at your partner of two years, you knew it was time to part ways. For now, anyway, until you two resolved your differences. You looked at Billie with a knowing expression in your eyes as a tear raced down your cheek and fell onto the dark wood countertop.

You could have sweared at that very moment that Billie's life was flashing before her eyes. She began to recognize herself and felt hopelessness creep in.

“No.” Billie spoke in an emotionless tone.

“Billie this needs to st-“

"No, no, no." Billie reiterated, at which point you sighed haltingly at her manners and closed your eyes, considering your next move and how it would affect your two-year relationship.

Your brain was warning you against giving in to her because, after all, she was the cause of the teary-eyed, restless nights. You now had a different perspective on yourself because of her. You were unsure if there was a problem with you for her to question your commitment. Although your brain was filled with a deep hatred for her, there was always a small part of you that could not help but love her.

Your heart.

That was the aspect of you that people noticed the most that was not physical. No matter how much your mind tried to remind you of the harm Billie had caused you, your heart was unable to stop loving her.

What made your heart explode was the little things about your relationship with Billie that no one else would see.

Like when she would lay her eyes on you, she would always have that sparkle in them. Or the fact that you would run out of room in your house when she would bring you flowers three times a week just because. She was always your plus one and never sought to usurp your attention, no matter what premier you had.

You walked around the counter and put your hand on hers, saying, "It's the right thing to do, Billie," but she withdrew her hand.

"It's Jacob isn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at the remark, but you could understand her point of view and chose to stay calm. At last, her puffy red eyes looked up at you, and you croaked, "It's not him Billie, or anyone at all, it's the fact that you can't trust me anymore."

"I can fix it, we can fix it," Billie said, her eyes sad, as you returned the look with a shake of your head.

“I’ve tried — for the past four months already,” you retort with a distasteful look.

You were tired of Billie playing the victim and needed to leave this relationship.

You had never felt anything like this before, as your heart began to slowly break. Your chest started to fill with air more quickly than you could handle. You tried to knead your chest to ease the pain by placing your hand over your heart, but it didn't work. You had to leave Billie as the agony got worse and make your way to the living room.

It was when your body began to relax on the back of a couch that you broke completely. You silently started to cry, and you did so for what seemed like an eternity until you felt two arms encircle your shoulders and firmly grasp you.

Knowing it was Billie, you attempted to shake her off of you like she was a parasite, but your body was too weak from crying, so you just sobbed more in frustration when you realized there was no way to get rid of her.

“I’m sorry.”

You were filled with even more pain when she spoke those words, knowing that no matter how hard she tried to change things for the better, it would never work out. Although your thoughts strayed to all of your previous arguments and how mentally exhausted they left you, you still wanted to think that she could change for the better.

Billie withdrew and longingly gazed into your eyes as you sniffed, "You should go."

"I can't live without you Y/N," Billie vowed.

You cupped her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with your thumb, and said, "It's what's best for the both of us—you and I both know it."

Billie gazed into your eyes for a considerable amount of time, and for a long moment there was silence—it was like you two were communicating only by making eye contact.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

You refused to give Billie a glance and instead focused on your nails until you heard the front door close, which indicated that she had left.

You slept with a cold spot next to you and an empty mind after that, hoping that Billie would eventually own up to her mistakes and return to complete each other's lives...

[its-not-a-pen]

—Terracotta—

Ok so I visited xi'an during my trip back to china (3 months ago?), and this idea popped into my head during the 9h train ride back to shangdong. I am of course 100% projecting my own love of the terracotta army onto Qin Shi Huang, in reality he did not care for this pit of mud statues depicting lowly commoners. In fact, no one ever bothered to write about it and they were lost to history until 1974 when some farmers digging a well stumbled upon them. But it's exactly the reason I'm so fascinated by them. QSH's tomb has not been excavated, and although I have a running joke about cracking it open--mercury vapors be damned--none of the riches inside will ever enchant me as much as the chance to see the face of a person who lived during this time.

Notes under the cut:

#1

the title Qin Shi Huangdi means "First Emperor of Qin" and was given to QSH by later historians. He actually called himself the Shi Huangdi, "First Emperor", and that is the title I've gone with here.

in English the other kingdoms are translated as "states" (i guess to avoid confusion?) but in chinese they are very much kingdoms.

The terracotta warriors used thousands of craftsmen, many of whom were slaves from conquered kingdoms. From a storytelling perspective I thought it would be more streamlined if there were two main artisans who reported directly to QSH.

QSH's clothes are based on the overly complicated courtly regalia. which has 12 symbols that only the emperor is allowed to wear

Notice how this hat is ROUND at the front??? Well I CERTAINLY DIDN'T. HAD TO REDRAW IT!!!!!

the stripped shirt is based on this Chu woman figurine. Clothes were fairly unisex during this time and I thought it was a nice fit.

#2

Paperwork: writing was done on books made of bamboo slips. Anecdotally, QSH had an impressive work ethic and would read 100 bills every night.

Bronze Goose lamp: ok this is actually a Han dynasty lamp pls forgive me. I saw this bad boy at the xi'an history museum and it's bewitched me body and soul. The goose neck is hollow and connects to a reservoir of water in the belly, which minimizes smoke and cools the lamp.

QSH is remembered as a brutal tyrant and brilliant statesman, but I wanted to present a more human version of him here. Bored, tired and drowning in work he refuses to delegate. His new empire is balanced as precariously as everything else on his desk.

#3

The attendants standing behind him are holding little wood tablets called hu for taking notes. Their brushes are tucked into their hats/hair, inspired by Han dynasty custom. (You'll see me using Han stuff a lot. Their cultures were very similar to Qin, since it was only a few hundred years apart).

So I had a slight breakdown trying to find the correct hats for the eunuchs, and ended up redrawing everything the night I was due to publish. Closest thing I could come up with was a reference to a round-style Han Dynasty hat which evolved into this square Jin hat. Yes, this is a cry for help .

#4

the wheeled platform is 100% made up, I tried to come up with a plausible way of getting a bunch of figurines into the palace.

#5 & #6

Painted terracotta soldier

How were the terracotta warriors made

The General: Fun fact, I got to see this guy in person!

#7

The Epic Wide Shot was inspired by some Tang Dynasty terracotta figures I saw at the xi'an museum!

#8

THIS KNEELING ARCHER. ARGGGGG. He use to be my favourite guy. I even went into the pit and drew him IN PERSON. the archers inexplicably have their hair buns on the OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE HEAD. So because of him, I DREW ALL THE HAIR BUNS WRONG!!!! REDRAW!!!! PAIN AND SUFFERING!!!!

#10

Qin was famous for it's very long, thin swords. They were more useful as status symbols than actual weapons, as QSH knows from personal experience…

#11

QSH'S Tomb hasn't been excavated yet, but high levels of mercury have been detected in the soil, making the historical accounts of quite plausible.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

The Princess of Wales’s intensely personal video message is packed with symbolism and carefully chosen imagery.

The three-minute video, shot by Will Warr, the couple’s favoured film-maker, in Norfolk last month, focuses heavily on the importance of nature and family.

It depicts the Prince and Princess, tactile and intimate; their three children, Prince George, 11, Princess Charlotte, nine, and Prince Louis, six, at the centre of their world.

The positive tone, the laughter and playful scenes, demonstrate that the Princess is looking to the future, hopeful that her darkest days are behind her.

The footage is framed around the theme of nature.

Since her cancer diagnosis in January, the Princess has found sanctuary in the natural world and is keen to reflect its importance.

She has previously spoken of “the power of nature” in maintaining both physical and mental health and the imagery reflects this.

The footage shows the Princess leaning against a tree, eyes closed as she looks to the skies, touching the bark of a tree as she gazes upwards.

In other scenes, she is walking through a field of wheat, caressing the sheaves with her hand, beaming as she holds a yellow butterfly before it flutters into the distance.

Nature was a key theme in June, when the Princess delivered an update on her health, revealing that she had “good days and bad days,” but was “not out of the woods yet.”

Her statement was accompanied by the image of her leaning on a weeping willow on the Windsor estate, again, taking strength and comfort in nature.

The joy and vitality conveyed in the latest footage is a far cry from the video message released by the Princess in March, when, seated on a bench alone looking pale and thin, she revealed that she was undergoing treatment for cancer.

The film shows the Prince and Princess interacting in a way never seen before.

The couple, usually intensely guarded in public, offer a rare glimpse into their private world as they lean on each other, kiss and clasp hands.

In various scenes, the Princess leans her head on her husband’s shoulder, they lie together on their backs, arms wrapped around each other laughing, and the Prince affectionately plants a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

In the video the Princess recorded in March, when she revealed she was being treated for cancer, she said that having the Prince by her side was “a great source of comfort and reassurance.”

She mentions him twice in her latest statement as she shows how much she values his strength and support.

Their decision to let the world in on such personal moments might also reflect the “new perspective” they say they have each gained from their cancer journey, perhaps now recognising that others relate to such private experiences and vulnerability.

The Prince and Princess have always made clear that family comes first.

Family life is at the heart of this video as the couple spend quality time with their three children as well as the Princess’s parents, Carole and Michael Middleton.

There are delightful shots of the family, arms wrapped around each other and laughing at the camera.

The children wield cricket bats, climb trees and run through the waves in the sea. They are shown playing cards outside and enjoying a picnic.

The images reflect the Princess’s recognition of the “simple yet important things in life, which so many of us often take for granted. Of simply loving and being loved.”

It is significant that the Middletons appear in one scene, playing a classic card game with the family around a dining room table.

The Princess is extremely close to her parents and they have rallied round in recent months to provide invaluable support.

Their inclusion in the video is a means of public recognition, a thank you for being there.

As an unprecedented glimpse into an idyllic family life, the footage is similar to that released by the couple in April 2021 to mark their 10th wedding anniversary.

That film, also shot by Mr Warr, showed the family in Norfolk, frolicking in sand dunes, chasing each other through trees, and collapsing on the grass in giggles.

Much of the footage is shot in an old-fashioned grainy style, which harks back to royal videos of old.

The late Queen and Prince Philip often captured family moments on camera or cine film, and the style chosen by Mr Warr is reminiscent of that footage from Royal family holidays at Balmoral or on the Royal Yacht Britannia.

The brief footage of the Princess driving a Land Rover through the Sandringham estate demonstrates that she is well enough to be back at the wheel and in control of her life.

It is also reminiscent of the late Queen and Prince Philip, who were often seen driving themselves around the royal estates.

The late Queen relished such independence, particularly in her later years.

A close-up of the Princess’s left hand on the gear stick shows she is not wearing her famous sapphire engagement ring.

[marchsfreakshow]

Sad Goodbyes [Tate Langdon]

Hurt/Comfort //drabble

Dedicated to my friend Sam, and his late ferret Nala <3

You are a RSPCA worker and mainly look after after animals a day or two before they get adopted, and Tate helps you say goodbye to a snow white ferret you've become attached to.

Another Tate fic, finally. This has been a w.i.p for ages, and I'm so glad I'm able to publish it. 🫶

Your Perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

I open the door, immediately placing the carrier down by my side. "Who's in there?" A voice asked. My eyes shot up to look at Tate. I smiled and closed the door before opening the carrier. A long, white ferret ran out, up the stairs, then sat on top of the first flight of the creaky wood floors. Tate's head wooshed around and grinned at the animal that was running around on the staircase. "You have a ferret?"

"Only for a bit. Nala is going to get adopted soon, so I'm spending a lot more time with her." I smiled back sadly and picked the carrier up again. Walking past the ghost boy, I jogged up the stairs. "Nala, up." I clicked my tongue and pointed to the other flight of stairs. The small ferret almost jumped all the stairs and went into an open door.

Tate followed me into the room and sat on the bed. "Do you do this for a lot of pets?"

"I guess so." I smile and place the carrier down by Nala's cage.

"You guess so?"

"Not every future pet owner lets me play with their new pets before they go to their new home. Too many sad goodbyes." I chuckled softly. I sat on my knees by the big ferret cage, opening the little doors and letting Nala run into it and jump around.

"She reminds me of you." Tate smiled, moving to sit by me crossed-legged. He kept his eyes on the ferret who was rushing around in her cage and playing with the small toys. "Full of energy, and always happy to be around others." The man's fingers weaved through two cage parts and wiggled, making Nala jump around.

"Sweet talk unfortunately won't make Nala stay any longer, Tate." I chuckle, kissing his cheek quickly. Letting out a little sigh, I got up from my knees, moving to the empty duffel bag. It took me a few seconds to open it, my eyes wandering over it slowly.

A few minutes of sullen silence went by before I heard the cage doors shut and footsteps behind me. Warmth spread over my back and arms wrapped around my stomach. "You can do this. You've done it before." He whispered, before resting his chin on my shoulder, staring at my shaky hands. "what makes this time any different?"

"...I really love Nala, I can't bear to let her go." I sniffled, turned on my heel and muffled my small cries into his jumper. He shushed me quietly and rubbed circles on my back. "I've never been this attached to an animal before."

"I know. I know..." We stood there in silence for a few moments as I softly cried. Eventually, I pulled myself away and wiped my eyes as I coughed. "I'll help you, okay? Tell me where to put things." Tate smiled softly. His hand rested on my cheek, meeting my glazed-over eyes.

I nodded and turned around, zipping open the duffel bag, and puffing it so it was bigger. Tate started to open the ferret cage, picking up the bigger toys and placing them on the bed. We started a line of picking items up and placing them strategically in the bag. It soon got filled up with toys, empty food bowls, bedding, everything.

"See, easy. All done." He reassured me, petting my hair. I laid down on the bed and sighed.

"It was the easy part. Getting everything put away is easy once you start."

I felt a kiss on my cheek, then kisses getting closer to my lips until I reciprocated his gentle touches. "I'm so proud of you, Nala is too." Tate smiled as I kissed him back, holding his face in my hands. "you'll be okay, I know you will."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @slvt4jamesmarch @taintandviolent @tatelangdonsweater

[gmcostaart]

Drarry Fics that I've read

Sooo I got into the fandom about a year now and I obsessively read a bunch of fanfics (Ao3 is my second home fr )

Running on Air by eleventy7

Chapters: 17/17 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Draco is missing and Harry needs to find him. He thought it would be another boring work, but then it turns into a self-discover journey and revisiting memories. All time favorite, this fic changed my brain chemistry for forever

Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (TeddyLaCroix)

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Harry finds a diary that writes him back. Cute and well written. If you need smth sweet and cozy to read, go for it.

Mental by sara_holmes

Chapters: 32/32 🖤🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Due to a spell Draco and Harry can read each other thoughts and things go crazy, emotional and cute at the same time. This one got me stay up all night.

The Ordeal of Being Known by louisfake

Chapters: 14/14 🖤🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Due to a curse Harry can't use your voice and Draco, a  Licensed Healer Legilimens, is going to help. It's like a time-travel fic but only through dialogue and revisiting memories, heavily emotional and overall well paced but for me the final chapters were a little bit rushed.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by Faith Wood (faithwood)

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: A cloud follows Draco everywhere and Harry comes to help like an umbrella. Overall cute.

The Lip-Lock Jinx by cassisluna

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤 Sinopse: Draco lost his voice and to recover it he needs a kiss from the person he's in love with. Drarry eight year fix-fic. It was cute, but a little forgettable tbh.

knickers in a twist by technicolourbeat

Chapters: 7/7 🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Draco wears a skirt and Harry can't stop staring or keeps his hands to himself. Just to boys going out and having a lot of fun in many different ways

Catch and Release by shealwaysreads (onereader)

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Due to temporary curse Draco and Harry need to stay close to each other. It's a forced proximity, forced cohabitation, only one bed trope fic with slow burn, and for me that was the best part of it.

Blue Boy by orphan_account

Chapters: 11/11 🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Draco Malfoy is a shy beautiful Ravenclaw boy who got attention of Harry Potter, the most popular boy of the Slytherin. The different and non usually personalities of them is what makes things interesting

Body Electric by shealwaysreads (onereader), tackytiger

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤 Sinopse: Due to a potion accident Harry and Draco swap bodies and the change of perspective is not the only thing they'll explore. I really liked this work but it felt smth is missing or not fully developed, specially, emotional part of the plot. It should have a second chapter tbh.

In Need of a Proper Hug by Faith Wood (faithwood)

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤 Sinopse: Harry turns into a Koala and keeps hugging Draco. Very cute but also very short.

 Floating by serikkun

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤 Prequel: Sparks by serikkun Sinopse: """Draco Malfoy, a visiting student from Durmstrang, couldn't believe he was Harry Potter's hostage for the second task."" I was in a hungry to find Drarry in this dynamic and it was ok, but I'd like to find smth longer.

Dear Cousin, Love Regulus by LLAP115, XxTheDarkLordxX

Chapters: 7/7 🖤🖤 Sinopse: Draco receive letters from his former cousin Regulus and starts questioning all his beliefs and family values, changing the course of the history and alliances. It's not a rewrite or time travel fic, a lot of majors events are summarize, though is interesting.

You And Me by bixgirl1

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Harry needs a calm and isolate place, Draco seems to be alone most of the time. Hogwarts 8th year, Slow burn, well paced, praise relationship dynamic.

The Importance of Being Draco Malfoy by poppyhills

Chapters: series rewrite (it's currently, covering the book 5 events)🖤🖤🖤

Sinopse: Hogwarts 3rd year; what if, instead of a scratch on the arm, Draco hit on the head by "the big bloody chicken" causing a huge memory lost that changes many aspects of Draco's personality. An unusually fic rewrite series. I love this 'new' Draco, he's just to silly that makes you laugh a lot plus it's amusing to see the Slytherin gang befriends with the golden trio. (It's sad that the author takes sooo loong for an update )

You've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass

Chapters: one-shot 🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: ""When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try."" God that was painfully beautiful. Though it has a happy ending, the plot broke my heart in tiny little pieces, I'll never read this fic again.

Draco Malfoy and the Mirror of Ecidyrue by starbrigid

Book: 5/7 (currently reading) 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Sinopse: Through a magic mirror, Draco goes back to 1st year at Hogwarts as a child of 11 years old. This time he decides to make things right even if the process hurt. All time favorite time-travel fic. This was my first reading of time travel fic and rewrite series, tbh I never thought that someone would be capable of rewrite the whole story changing the perspective, it amazed me the creativity and love required to do this. All the characters are very dear to me, specially Draco I love him just too much; and the fact that Drarry is a slowwwwww burrrrnnn dynamic, makes this fic a work of art.

[waywardsunlight]

Compiling all of the canon evidence about Caleb because I noticed sources are getting muddled. Below the cut is all the canon info I could find with the episodes and who said it/ where it came from.

Caleb was alone as a child raising his little brother, at some point they moved from an unknown location to Gravesfield (Masha, TTT). The two of them played a witch hunter game where they dressed up in costumes. We see Caleb playing a witch, stepping in a trap Philip set. They also churned butter together and Caleb whittled Philip's mask in Gravesfield. (Portraits, Hollow Mind) Caleb met Evelyn at an unknown point, and bonded over birds, where she was disguised as a human. (Dana Terrace) Later, as a teen, Caleb and still child Philip went on a witch hunt. They found Evelyn in the woods (may or may not be related to witch hunt) and discovered she was a witch. Caleb was accepting of her and the duo began traveling back and forth between Gravesfield and the Boiling Isles, developing a secret code to travel, leaving Philip behind from his perspective. (Portraits/ cut portrait, Hollow Mind. Masha, TTT). As an adult, Caleb cut his hair. (Statue, Yesterday's Lie) At an unknown time, he acquired the cabin near the Noceda house. He had his (implied in KT/TTT) blue coat embroidered with the symbol of a bird in a cage, and this coat became Philip's at an unknown point in time. (King's Tide/TTT) Caleb or Evelyn also hid the Rebus Box under the floorboards and created said Rebus and hid the Titan's blood near the portal with an owl stopper. (TTT) At some point, as Caleb and Philip were adults, a fire started at the current day historical society and Caleb + Evelyn vanished. Philip followed after, leaving a diary behind which was used to understand the situation by the townspeople (Jacob, Yesterday's Lie. Masha, Storyboard for TTT, considering canon as complacent). Philip states that it takes him five years to find the Titan's blood and in the image he is growing a beard (Eclipse Lake). He has a medium length beard when he confronts Caleb and Evelyn first in his beast form, transforming back when Caleb hugs him. At this point, Evelyn is pregnant with a child and she and Caleb are holding hands. A later shot shows Philip holding a knife behind his back as Caleb smiles and Evelyn is turned away. Philip is wearing the blue coat. At a later point, Caleb has his hands up, holding a flat edged knife looking worried as Philip walks to the right. Caleb is on the ground with flames around him, and those flames die down as he dies. Philip sees himself in the reflection of the dagger with blood on it. Evelyn returns and uses a gold magic, hitting Philip as he runs away. (Portraits, Hollow Mind) At an unknown point, Philip obtains Caleb's remains and begins several failed grimwalker experiments until the episode Elsewhere and Elsewhen where he meets the Collector.

Missing/fragment evidence: Philip and Caleb are missing information for most of their adulthood, and Evelyn has extremely scare information. A mural in Belos's castle representing wild witches burning a town resembles Eda with short hair in a green dress and a blonde witch with rounder ears, likely Evelyn and her daughter. (Watching and Dreaming) The blue coat has never been proven to belong to Caleb, other than Masha using a similar blue coat in TTT and Belos's sensitivity to the coat being mentioned/ him always wearing it. There is no canon explanation as to how Caleb ended up alone with Philip, where their parents are, or how they got the cabin. It is unknown if Philip confronting Caleb in his beast form and Caleb's murder happened at the same time or on different days, or where Flapjack or Evelyn is for the murder (although she returns from the right, the same direction Philip was facing with the knife) (Hollow Mind). Flapjack has limited information but is likely Evelyn's bird (Dana Terrace). Caleb was a whittler and may have carved Palismen, as that later becomes the family business of the Clawthornes, and Evelyn is a Clawthorne. However this isn't provably canon.

[staybabblingbaby]

Chan x Youtuber (Discover Part) a1 d1

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader is an anonymous Youtuber who does English covers of various k-pop songs, including Stray Kids. Bangchan comes across one of these one night and falls in love with Reader's voice. They develop an online friendship, and Bangchan might be in love with more than just the voice.

Word Count: 962

Notes: I had a lot of fun narrating the video. I've seen it a lot in Idol novels that I read online, and it really is a fun and new perspective to use. The username may stay, it may change, i might get rid of it entirely idk. Kind of also contemplating using 'You' instead of 'person'. Idk we'll see how it goes as i work on it. Feedback would be much appreciated for this one. No editing notes rn, I'm not rlly feelin' it.

Warnings: None that I know of? It's just silly fluff idk what u want from me.

Masterlist link :D| Prev Part

It was 2am on a random Tuesday in Seoul. Bangchan lay staring at his ceiling for the nth time that month, silently cursing at his insomnia. He rolls over for the thousandth time to stare at his wall instead. His eyes drift his phone on the nightstand, and he idly wonders if he should spend some time teasing STAY on Bubble.

It’d definitely relieve the soul-crushing boredom of being unable to sleep, but he doesn’t really feel like receiving their well-intentioned scolding over his sleep schedule right now. He rolls back onto his back and heaves a tired sigh.

With resignation, he sits up and grabs his phone. He’d like to avoid being scolded, but receiving STAY’s love is always comforting. Vlogs and edits it is, then.

He hops onto YouTube with deft fingers and begins his latest STAY-binge. The thought of STAY’s reactions when he reminds them that he watches their stuff brings a smile to his face. They always freak out so cutely.

Soon enough, he’s zoned out and mindlessly scrolling through, giggling along to memes and watching vlogs with all the affection in his heart.

He runs out of content from the accounts he regularly watches pretty quickly. He’s only killed about 30 minutes, and even though his mood has improved significantly, he doesn’t quite feel up to going back to staring at his ceiling yet.

With a light heart, he descends into the familiar uncharted territory of his recommended feed. He manages to kill another hour or so before a particular video catches his eye.

[Learn Music Production With Me! | Cover Me by Stray Kids (English Cover) | EP.4]

The thumbnail features someone with brightly colored hair slumped over a desk, their face smooshed against the wood and their arms dangling limply beside them. Their features are obscured by a fabric mask, but bright blue tear-tracks are drawn on over top.

Bangchan can’t help but be amused by the image. He could definitely relate to the frustrations of learning music production. He actually felt a bit flattered and flustered that this person was using his music to learn from.

Officially intrigued, Chan clicks on the video.

It opens with a shot of the person from the thumbnail from the back. They’re sat at the same desk, which Chan can now see hosts a towering hutch with full shelves decked out in flower-shaped fairy lights. He spots a large section of SKZ albums tucked between other albums and books on the hutch’s shelves.

There’s a microphone on the desk, the boom arm pushed to the side, and a bulky set of headphone’s on the figure’s head. Despite the microphone’s distance from the person at the desk Chan can hear the furious clicking of a mouse as clear as day.

This scene plays out for a moment before the clicking suddenly stops and the person freezes. They slowly remove their headphones and sigh loudly. A very crisp [“Fuck!”] Takes him by surprise and he can’t help a soft laugh as the video pauses and begins to rewind.

[“So turns out I’m a big ol’ dumb-dumb and I’ve been doing this wrong this entire time.”] A voiceover begins to explain. The rewind quickly covers what Bagchan assumes is hours of work, and the voice over continues, [“Well, not wrong, per say, but I was definitely doing it the hard way. Wrong Equation right answer sort of situation. I.”] The voice chuckles ashamedly, [“I could have done this whole thing in a third of the time. I’m so embarrassed. Let me show you.”]

The rewind stops and the video switches to a different angle. The camera is obviously sitting on the desk this time, looking at the person from the side. The angle is much closer. The person waves awkwardly at the camera with both hands and rotates their chair to face it properly.

[“Hi all, I’m Grimm’sTeddy and this is episode 4 of me failing to learn how to produce music. We’re onto week 6 now, because I was quite seriously fighting with this program the entire time.”] A caption appears on the screen, [Shoulda watched more tutorials, buddy].

The video continues along the same vein for a while, a mix of Grimm talking and explaining their process while being unknowingly roasted by the occasional caption when they do something wrong. The video mostly shows the screen they’re working from, only switching back to the vlog-style camera when Grimm is being particularly dramatic about their struggles.

Around the 10 minute mark, Grimm discovers the feature of the program that triggered the reaction from the first clip. There’s a bit of grumbling and self-deprecating jokes, and then the video’s pace speeds up by quite a lot. Apparently the process is a lot less entertaining when it’s going smoothly.

Finally, 12 minutes in, the full cover is revealed.

Bangchan is, quite honestly, entranced.

There’s something almost desperate in the tone Grimm sings with, something raw and hurting. The cover is incredibly faithful to the original. They’d changed some words to preserve the melody across languages but were clever enough with it to preserve the meaning.

Bangchan finds himself impressed. Sure there are mistakes, and a lot of polish is missing, but the voice sticks in his head like glue. He goes to the channel’s page to find the first video in the series almost without thinking about it.

It turns out the video he’d watched was from several months ago, just after they’d released the song initially. There were only 2 videos after it, the series seemingly ending at episode 6.

Chan ends up watching the other 5 videos that night. He falls asleep with his phone on his chest at 5am, after making sure to leave a comment on each video.

[eveenstar]

So in your soft Hoodie hc, you mentioned you had an urge to write a one-shot about the nightmare part right? Well then allow me to request for a one-shot of that :)

Please feel free to decline of you've moved on from that...

So terribly sorry this took so long and is short, the ending is a bit meh cuz i lost myself midway. Hope you still like it!

Hush now | Brian Thomas/Hoodie

Summary: A nightmare aroses you from your slumber, and for the third time in his life, Brian feels hopeless.

TW: Reader's gender and pronouns are not mentioned.

It came to you during the night, that feeling of feigned conformity, that it is alright - that you're safe - but you aren't. The blinds of the room have all been shut to prevent any light, be it from the Sun or the Moon, and you can't make the shape of your own hands as they come to meet your chest, resting over your racing heart, feeling the pulse.

You're panicking.

Why are you panicking?

Nothing happened.

Everything is fine. You're fine.

Something else is amiss. You don't feel the heavy presence of Brian - or Hoodie - next to you. Relutanctly reaching a hand out, your suspicions are confirmed. Sometime during the night, he left the bed, but that does not come as a surprise. He comes and goes.

But this crippling anxiety doesn't seem to go. It has set its teeth and claws on your heart, its poison running through your veins. You're frozen in place, battling a war inside your mind. Focus, you repeat, focus!

Flashes come to your mind, but not of sweet orchards and butterflies. No, darker images of the torments that linger in the back of your mind. A feeling of deja vu settles in, and you realise the nemesis behind your panic - a nightmare. A child's nightmare, even. Not being able to scream, being away from mommy and daddy, no one coming to help-

Oh, gods, the dread that overwhelms you is too much to bear. You're no stranger to nightmares - you two are well acquainted by now. After all, are you not the one living with a serial stalker and murderer in the middle of the woods, in the territory of a long-limbed entity with no face?

But you had found ways to overcome them. Brian was never around when they happened, but in the rarer occasions that he was, a mere hand lingering over your back was all that you'd receive. Or pills. This was different, however. This nightmare was bolder than the others - challenging you into a whole new perspective, because this time your tormentor was not the shadow in the forest or its followers, or something else entire. No, the being - person - on the other end of the knife was the one with the tired, blue eyes you've come to love.

But Brian would never harm you. Not intentionally. He would never-

Answer: He was watching you.

Not the answer you wanted, but needed. The light cleared a path amidst the darkness, illuminating the bed in a bright flash. There you sat, shaking like a leaf, holding yourself as if your body would evaporate at any moment. Brian stood in the doorway, as still as a rock, watching you. You couldn't see the look in his eyes. You refuse to see it, in fact. You were too embarrassed to meet his gaze and see what lays behind them.

Seconds, minutes, hell centuries could've passed as you two remained as you were. It was too quiet, apart from the rapid sound of your breathing. You clenched your sweaty hands, trying to convince yourself this was just another nightmare.

It wasn't.

Brian crossed the room with slow, methodical steps. The dirt in his boots created a trail that led to the bed, to you, and stopped just on the edge of it. Even if you weren't looking at him, you could feel his gaze on you and it made you feel small. You hated it. You hated the feeling of danger that came with it as the flashbacks of your nightmare came flooding back to you.

Had it been a nightmare, your mind whispered, or a haunting premonition?

It took a pregnant pause for Brian to sit down in front of you, at a considerably safe distance. He studied you first, what was wrong, what he couldn't fix. A feeling of deja vu ran through him, but for different reasons.

You flinch from his hand when it comes in contact with your arm, and he withdraws it as if he's been burnt. Without a second glance, Brian abruptly comes to his feet and rummages through the dressers and cabinets in the room. You feel as if he's angry or nervous, but neither are shown through the invisible armour he wears. He's as fast as he is quiet, you don't see or hear him before he's there, standing in front of you with the familiar bottle of pills in his hand.

You've come to become familiarised with the different pills in the house. There's some for emergencies, others for pain, antidepressants... A whole rainbow of them. You can't lie and say they have never come in handy before. Especially when anxiety was at its pike.

Tonight, you feared you'd need more than a simple bottle of pills.

"Brian." The name slipped from your lips with a sob, the lump in your throat threatening to explode at any moment. "Please."

You saw the way his hand clenched around the pill bottle, and you feared your words had triggered something in him. Something bad. Something like what happened in your dream.

A hand came to pet the top of your head, and seeing as you didn't flinch this time, Brian sat down again. Closer, so close your shoulders were almost touching. You took a deep breath - inhaling, exhaling - and your shoulders shook. You were too frustrated with your mind to feel embarrassment, but you knew it would hit you sooner or later. You had never broken down like this, not in front of him.

To your non-surprise, Brian remained still, blue eyes narrowed and watching you. You could see how tense he was, yet you still couldn't figure out the quiet storm in his eyes.

Against your better judgement, you find yourself leaning against him, hiding your sobbing face in the crook of his neck. For a moment, you think he will push you away. But he doesn't, as he never has when you were in...such a state.

One hand comes to rest on your back, awkwardly running circles. He said nothing, hell, you couldn't even feel if he was breathing. His chin came to rest on top of your head and remained there. It was the most Brian had ever done for you.

By the time morning came, you had fallen asleep in Brian's arms. The deepest sleep you had in a long time, but a dreamless one. Somehow, you could still feel him there, holding you as if he was some sort of pillar. In a way, he was. Holding you on top of the world.

You know Brian would if he could. There's still a man underneath all his bloody armour. That man came to you last night.

[ofthecaravel]

Brandy

Chapter One

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: Brotherly shenanigans as always, mentions of parental death, a little squabbling, flirting, minor angst

Words: Lil under 10k (whoops)

A/N: I started this literally a year ago. God help me. Inspired by Brandy by Looking Glass and Sam and Danny being goofuses. I really hope y'all like this because there is so much more to post 😭

~~~

As always, the Kiszka brothers had gotten to work a little earlier than they needed to.

The elder of them, Joshua, had always believed that a clean bar would result in an easygoing night, so they often found themselves slipping in through the back door around 5pm on nights they didn't even open and staying until 8pm to mop the floors and replace anything that had been tarnished in nights previous. Josh and his spritely spirit found it invigorating to fiddle with such things as measuring the level of alcohol in their assortment of kegs and casks, or the arrangement of glasses and the security of the coat hooks. But Sam, the youngest of his siblings and the only other one who tended to the family business on a regular basis, usually found himself walking away from all of the menial chores Josh assigned him. He was annoyed enough that he'd had to start full time as their one and only waiter since their brother Jake had left the family business to his twin and little brother to chase his dream of sailing the high seas three years ago. Since then, Josh and Sam had struggled to manage the popular bar all on their own, stretch their very small budget out between the business and themselves, and not murder each other in the process. Sam thought he deserved a little break before work, and the seemingly pointless tasks that Josh insisted he do to help out were not exactly morale boosters. He was coming up on a year of Josh's least favorite pre-shift ritual of his, which included leaning his head against the window tucked into the corner that faced true north and staring in unblinking, unmoving silence. 

It was a clear, early June evening when from his post wiping down the keg spigots, Josh noticed Sam drifting out of the corner of his eye. He sighed when he realized where his younger brother now stood.

"Will you get away from the window? I just cleaned it and you're gonna fog it up again with all your longing sighs."

Sam tossed a sour look over his shoulder at his brother, who stood behind the bar with a rag slung over his shoulder and a judgmental look on his face. Josh pulled the rag down and across the already gleaming wood in front of him and shook his head in near pity, his hand working anxious circles on the surface as it had done every night for nearly 7 years now. 

"I'm not fogging it up," Sam argued. "What, I'm not allowed to look out the window of my own bar?"

"Not if you're going to get your fish breath all over my nice, clean glass," Josh shot back with a barely contained smile, looking down amusedly while Sam scoffed.

He rolled his eyes all the way around to look back out the window, his keen eyes trained on the bustle of the harbor town coming alive as the sun slowly sank deeper into the twilight sky. Lamps were starting to blink awake in the windows of the weathered brick buildings surrounding their little bar, casting their amber light on the cobblestone that the fishmongers tread on with their stained aprons still tightly tied as they headed homeward bound. Sam sported a similar apron that he kept hiked up flatteringly around his waist, worn begrudgingly and scattered with its own fair share of stains and stories. But unlike the fishmongers that passed him by without so much as a glance, he was in for the night,  his shift starting when the first patron inevitably burst in with a thirst for comradery and the extra strong spirits and liqueurs that Sam and his brothers distilled themselves. 

They all specialized in their own kinds, and as their regulars eventually went on to point out, they all suited their specialties very nicely. Josh with his appropriately rosy cheeks and boisterous, people pleasing nature was a natural when it came to bold, sweet wines. Jake had a knack for whipping up a whiskey with a sharp bite and smooth burn, but just like the man himself, those bottles were usually gone from the bar and ran out fast when they were. But Sam was the only one with the patience and palate to tend to the bar's most sought after delicacy: casks of sweet brandy that he laid down in crystal glasses bought off a merchant ship with his private stash of tips. The men that frequented the bar the most had long since stopped referring to him by name, simply raising their hands to catch his eye as he made his rounds and calling out "Brandy!".

Much to his chagrin, his name slowly started to get left at home, and he was soon known solely as "Brandy" to the bar goers of The Caravel Cantina. Only Josh called him Sam at work, knowing it was a surefire way to get his attention as he tended to the mobs of ever parched, low lidded men. Josh called it then, recognizing the mournful look his little brother was casting towards the docks that lay just out of sight of the northern window that his head was lolled against. Sam startled again and fully turned away, pressing his hand briefly to his forehead to feel how his skin had cooled against the pane.

"What?" Sam asked in annoyance, already feeling his ears perk as he thought about the water and its many ships that now lay at his back. As Josh shook his head at him again, he absently wondered if he would be able to recognize the ship he was waiting for by the creak of its sails or how its bow sliced into the dark seawater that pooled around their port. "You wanted something?"

"I want you to get away from my goddamn window and do your job, you hooligan," Josh scolded lightheartedly, tossing his rag with force into Sam's slight chest, who caught it with an audible "oof".  

"Nobody's even here yet," Sam pointed out, gesturing dramatically with the cloth out at the warmly lit yet definitely empty sea of cramped tables and chairs with its lone jukebox pressed against the wall. 

"Sam," Josh said again, his voice softer this time. He let out an even softer sigh and cocked his head at his brother, giving him a small smile. "They're not coming tonight. You got to give it up, bud."

Sam hesitated, slightly stunned that Josh had been able to read his mind so easily, but after a lifetime of close quarters and shared secrets, he could only be so surprised. 

"Jake said they'd be back in the summertime," Sam said carefully, echoing his brother's words of encouragement from the year prior. "The fishermen are starting to bring in albacore and those big, pink shrimps and you know damn well those are only in season when the weather has turned. It is officially summer, thank you very much."

"Hell, you think sailors measure the seasons by the fuckin' fish?" Josh barked out a condescending laugh. "They're not out there to pick salt off of shrimp and clams. You think Jake captains that hunk of junk across the Atlantic to get the ol' pole out and let it fly?"

Sam's cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he furrowed his dark brow with a frown, casting his eyes down as he wrung the filthy bar rag between his lithe hands. 

"Jake knows," Sam muttered. "And he promised."

"Because his promises are so reliable," Josh said sarcastically, a genuine hint of bitterness slipping out as he started stacking glasses aggressively. "Something tells me it's not him who made you that promise, Sammy."

"The sun is staying up for longer, too," Sam pointed out, skillfully ignoring Josh's accusation. "He'll notice that the daylight is blazing beautifully on their masts for an hour longer or whatever pretentious garbage sentiment he writes in his journal. Or do they not have the sun out on the sea, wise guy?"

"Sam."

Sam finally met Josh's gaze and felt a guilty curl in his stomach from the glint in his brother's tired, brown eyes.

"Why don't you have a drink and remember how sweet the fruit of your patience can be, hm?" 

"Yeah," Sam replied simply, feeling a slight shame that he was only adding to ever growing list of Josh's stressors. "Okay. Might help with the rush tonight."

"Rush?" Josh looked lost for a moment before he gripped the glass in his hand even tighter and spun to look at the bar's beloved Mermaid of the Month calendar. "It's Saturday? I thought it was a fucking Friday, fuck!"

"Oh, and Fridays are any better for us?" Sam laughed, dipping behind the bar with his frazzled brother to grab a glass and pouring himself a shallow drink of golden brandy from its coveted bottle. 

Outside, Sam could already hear laughter carrying from down the street that would soon arrive as a pack of rowdy men ready to unwind after a long day by the docks. They surely wouldn't be the last group to swarm their painfully understaffed yet ultimately well loved cantina, and as Sam was throwing back the last of his drink and watching the panic sizzle off of Josh's abundance of curls, the door slammed open and the space filled with thundering voices and cackles.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Josh greeted jovially, his visible anxiety peeling off of him in an instant as men started to take seats at the bar and drag tables together. "What can I do you for?"

"I sure could use a tall, sweet drink of brandy," one of the grizzled regulars purred, giving a sharp toothed grin to Sam, who had already grabbed his tray and slipped from behind the bar and out into the fray. Josh bristled at the man's comment as he skillfully poured him up a glass and watched his brother sidle up to a throng of butchers, who were giving him a look they usually saved for their finest cuts of meat. Josh knew what the men in the bar thought about his brother's feminine features and hospitable grace. He heard what they said about his body and long hair as he slinked through crowds and brushed hands with eager patrons, flashing his wide smile and playing into their little jokes. Of course Sam knew too, and it's not like The Caravel was the kind of place that would let anything like that go by without getting a boot to the ass, but Josh couldn't help but feel protective of him nonetheless. 

"Cool it, Caldwell," Josh said with a slight bite in his gravelly voice as he set down the drink in front of the sharp toothed man. "We wouldn't want the missus knowing what you say about my brother after a few of those tall and sweets, now would we?"

"You're no fun, Kiszka," Caldwell mumbled into his drink, his mustache dipping into the liquor as his grubby pals quickly roped him into a conversation and left Josh to his pouring and coin collecting. 

Across the bar, the jukebox blared to life, and Sam felt a wave of relief wash over him at the sound. The jukebox's chronically high volume meant he had an excuse not to hear everybody's little comments to and about him as he dutifully dished out spilling glasses and salty scoops of peanuts. However, as the song stretched out beyond the first 30 seconds of instrumental, the wave inside Sam came crashing down as he recognized the song's bright lyrics and the vocals they danced on. He swallowed an emotion he'd been biting back since he'd first felt the temperature begin to rise, and as he placed a ring of shots on his metal tray with shaking hands that made the metal and glass clatter in time to the beat, Sam relived a burst of last summer for what felt like the hundredth time.  

-

One Year Earlier

-

Against his will, Sundays had become the designated day for Josh and Sam to come to the bar during the daytime and work on any repairs that couldn't be done in their little interludes before regular nights. The Caravel was closed on Sundays, and despite Sam's consistent protests that that logic should also be applied to its employees, Josh insisted that it was a great opportunity to fix it up for the upcoming week. 

Despite the fact that he and Josh hadn't got home until 3am, Sam woke up with the sun that Sunday. As he lay in bed and focused only on the feel of the linen sheets on his bare skin and the distant whistle of the wind outside, he tried to think back on the last time he had gotten a full night's sleep. 

He figured it had to be around the time that he'd last seen Jake, right before he had left to join a crew on a merchant ship that he made seem a lot cooler than it probably actually was.

"The captain says we're going to sail to all kinds of places," Jake had told him, perched on the end of Sam's bed with a map so wide it sprawled across their knees and grazed the edge of his pillow. "Not just Europe, but Africa, too. Maybe even Asia."

"I don't even understand what you'll be doing," Sam had mumbled darkly, bitterly watching Jake's fingers trace over imaginary waves in the yellowed sea on the paper, charting routes he was yet to go on. Without them. 

"We'll be transporting cargo to ports all across the world," Jake had explained proudly, not understanding the disdain that Sam felt towards his sudden career change. "Not every harbor is as drab as this one. There are really wonderful ones, and I want to see them all."

"It isn't that drab here," Sam had argued weakly, even though he wholeheartedly agreed that their town was the poster child for sad, salty, seasick ports. "Just work on the docks that sail to Canada and Greenland if you want to get on a ship so bad. You could be home for Christmas if you wanted."

There was a moment of silence when Sam leaned back against the wall sullenly, crossing his arms and glaring at Jake. Jake couldn't look him in the eye, instead choosing to slowly roll the map up and secure it with a little slip of ribbon as Sam huffed and bit back any tears that threatened to rise to the surface. The whole house was quiet in that moment, every room empty of noise and joy, Josh having long grown silent since Jake had broke the news over dinner and caused Josh to immediately retreat to his room with a slam of the door. The air had grown thick and cloudy since the words had left Jake's mouth, and as he watched his lanky little brother suddenly shrink very small on the bed he'd slept on since he was a child, Jake fully understood just what his absence was going to do to his family. 

"I need to do this, Sammy," Jake had pleaded with his brother, scooting closer to Sam on the bed and putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "I'll be back before you even care that I'm gone."

"I care now," Sam had whispered, shrugging away from Jake's touch and turning away.

It had been the truth. And it was still the truth two years later, after months of letters that came few and far between, and random parcels that came in the mail containing garments made of soft, dyed fabric that Josh snuck into every outfit and hair oils that had made Sam's awkward, choppy bob grow into glossy, walnut waves that he wove into plaits and loose buns to keep out of his face at work. These little gifts he sent from his travels were nice to have around, but they couldn't make up for Jake's substantial absence in their lives. As he got out of bed and dressed in the hazy peach light streaming through his thin curtains, Sam looked at the map hung crookedly on his wall and wondered where Jake's ship was docked now. 

"Jake wouldn't drag me to the bar on a fucking Sunday," Sam murmured to himself in his mirror as he pulled a comb through his hair and twisted it into a loose, wavy ponytail that swung nearly to his lower back. Just a moment too late, he heard his brother's footsteps out in the hall, and hoped in vain he didn't hear what he had said so close to his only partially closed door. 

"Yes, he would!" Josh called from right outside the door as he passed by, knocking on it with an enthusiasm that seemed completely unwarranted for the time of day. "Lighten up, Sammy, we only have a few chairs to fix. It'll be nice and easy for you, Mister Cranky."

"You always say that!" Sam called back, smacking the door and hearing Josh's donkey bray of a laugh move into their small kitchen, followed by the familiar clatter of the kettle and the other sounds that Josh put into motion to bring the house back to life for the coming day. 

Sam looked back at himself in the mirror, tugging on the lavender skin under his drooping lower lashes and pale waterline, taking only a second to dwell on any thoughts outside of getting through the day before he braced himself and headed out the door. 

As predicted, a few chairs to be fixed turned into a couple of barstools that needed tightening, a window pane that needed to be replaced, a floorboard that needed to be hammered back into place, glass shards that somehow went unnoticed from a minor brawl two nights prior needing to be swept up, and Sam being sent on an errand to find a vendor open on Sundays selling oranges. By the time Josh called it quits for the day, the sun was already starting to start its journey back down under the horizon line, much to Sam's dismay. He could barely keep his temper under wraps as Josh circled the bar one last time, letting his honey brown gaze rest a moment longer than necessary on every square inch of the place.

"This is insane, Josh, let's go," Sam hissed, trying not to claw into the doorframe as he attempted not to bolt. "There is absolutely no need for this level of astuteness unless you're expecting the goddamn Queen of England to pop by for a visit."

"You never know when a special guest might grace us," Josh said mysteriously, wiggling his eyebrows while he locked up the maintenance closet.

"Nobody even comes on Monday nights," Sam continued to whine. "You're prepping for three drunks and some mice." 

"Maybe I'm just trying to set an example for the level of care this place deserves," Josh explained in his even, oh-so-wise tone that Sam hated. "This place will be yours someday, you know."

"Yes, I know, and your ghost will still find a way to micro manage it."

"I'll be great for business," Josh grinned, finally turning down the lamp and clicking the key into place. "Sailors love a ghost story."

"It was a dark and stormy night when the young master Kiszka broke free of his cruel, domineering eldest brother and slayed him in his sleep," Sam crooned in a spooky voice as he took the lead down the street back to their little house. 

"You'd never get the chance," Josh scoffed.

Sam continued on with his dramatic tale of how his brother's ghost went on to curse his bar for all eternity and sent him spiraling into madness, with Josh contributing his own details where he saw fit as he trailed him. Right before it went out of sight, Sam cast a look back at the bar, sitting squat and dark against the lilac sky, wondering if what made him detest it so much might be the same thing that made Josh fuss over it so much.

-

The following night, Sam's expectation of a slow night was more than lived up to. By the time 9pm rolled around, Caravel had been graced by a whopping 2 patrons, who had only lingered for about an hour before leaving Josh and Sam to awkwardly sit around and flick coins at each other. 

Sam was able to read his brother's moods pretty well, and as he watched Josh stacking silver coins in a pyramid at the other end of the bar, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with him. He kept glancing at the door and his usually steady fingers had a slight tremble to them, which caused the coin pyramid to shift and slide to a clattering mess on the wood, making Josh cuss and scoop them back into his palm.

"Hey, brother of mine," Sam prodded gently as Josh occupied himself with spinning a quarter like a top. "How are you?"

Josh tossed him a weird look, laughing slightly as he straightened to admire his growing army of spinning coins. 

"I'm peachy, baby," Josh chuckled, knitting his brows. "And yourself?"

"Good, good," Sam said absently. "You know, if something's bothering you, I'm here to talk."

"Sammy, nothing's the matter," Josh insisted as if it was the silliest thing in the world, but he said it a little too fast. "Seriously. All is well in the house of Kiszka."

"I don't believe you," Sam said lazily, resting his face in his hands as he stared his brother down. 

"Well, I can't help that, now can I?" Josh teased, rolling one of his coins towards Sam. "Let's see how many of these we can spin at once."

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing he wasn't going to be able to get anything more out of Josh but still watching him out of the corner of his eye as they worked together to set the glimmering surface of the bar ablaze with a ballet of dancing silver coins. 

Around midnight, they had managed to accrue a small group of women in the back corner and a few more men at the bar, keeping them only slightly more busy than they had been in the empty bar. Sam, bored out of his mind, stepped away for a moment to "check inventory". This thorough "check" consisted of Sam slipping out the back door and taking a moment to breathe in the sweet, summery air. The chill coming off the ocean gave it a cold, salty bite, and Sam breathed it in gratefully through his nose as he slipped a cigarette and lighter out of his apron pocket. The cigarette, purchased secretly from the general store's quiet cashier, lit up quickly and was slowly inhaled, the herbs and tobacco mingling deliciously with the night air in Sam's senses. He tipped his head back and let loose a billowy stream of smoke into the dark sky, watching a moth sail through it on its way to the streetlight a few doors down. Josh would absolutely kill Sam if he knew he was smoking, so Sam had to sneak them in his rare moments completely alone. He was going to save it for a busy night when he'd really need it, but Sam couldn't help but give in to temptation. He closed his eyes and took in another long, slow drag, listening to the sizzle of the paper and the unmistakable, jovial noises of a group of sailors making their way down the street in front of the bar.

'Oh, boy, here we go,' Sam thought begrudgingly, hearing the muffled shouts and laughs enter the bar through the door to his back. Surprisingly, he heard Josh's voice ring out the loudest, making some kind of announcement and laughing. Josh was loud, of course, but he wasn't one to command a room when there were customers just coming in. Sam took a few more hits before dropping the cigarette and crushing it underfoot, putting his ear to the door curiously as he listened further. Josh's voice seemed to layer over itself alongside the unfamiliar voices that had just come in, and Sam furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out what he was hearing.

"SAM!"

"Fuck, shit," Sam whispered to himself, readjusting his apron and swinging around to open the door, stumbling back inside and powerwalking his way through the back and out into the open expanse of the bar. 

"There he is," Josh grinned brightly, his face completely alight. He was, for once, out from behind the bar and mixed amongst the sailors cluttering the front of the bar. Sam suddenly questioned if his assumption that they were sailors was even correct, judging from their casual, loose fitting clothes that varied in style. Usually the sailors that passed through their town were decked out in the traditional, matching garb with plain stripes and jaunty hats. But, still, Sam couldn't shake the feeling that these were sailors of some sort of caliber. He approached, turning on his cute waiter charm and flashing a warm smile, only for it to fall a moment later when he caught sight of who exactly Josh was standing with his arm around.

"Got a drink handy for an old seafarer?" 

"Jake?" Sam blurted in disbelief, adrenaline seizing his every sense as he tossed his tray haphazardly towards the bar and threw his arms around his brother, who clapped him on the back with a genuine and utterly Jake laugh. "Holy shit, I thought it was Josh I was hearing. What, I mean, oh my God, you're here, what the hell!"

"Good lord, Sam, since when do you swear like a sailor?" Jake exclaimed good-naturedly. "That's supposed to be my sort of thing."

"You should hear the shit he says, I tell you," Josh interjected. He was absolutely beaming, radiating joy from the tips of his curls down to his loafers in a way that should've projected the shimmer of sunlight's pure heat. Sam knew how much he had missed his twin, and now that they were back together again, it felt like something in Josh had slid back into its rightful place. Standing right next to each other, Sam was able to properly assess just how different Jake looked from the last time he had seen him. When he'd left, Jake's hair had curled up boyishly around his ears, but it now fell in sun kissed and wind tossed waves just above his shoulders. He was sturdier in build, with muscles built from lugging cargo on and off ships. He also sported some sparse facial hair and the biggest, ugliest hoop earring Sam had ever seen. Jake was lucky that Sam was too overwhelmed with emotion to make a comment about it, even when they hugged again and Sam felt it brush against his neck, causing him to choke down a giggle as Jake started one of his rambles. 

"You wouldn't believe the weather we had to get through to make it here," Jake said, throwing his palms up dramatically. "Rain like knives the whole way. I thought it was gonna cut through the sails but thanks to some expert direction from yours truly, we made it in record time."

"So, what, you're a captain now?" Sam asked, slightly in awe. 

"Sure am," Jake announced, pride dripping off him as he tipped his chin up and smoothed down his shirt. "A lot has happened since I've been out to sea."

"And you never thought to mention it in any of your letters?"

"Didn't seem fair to brag."

"Oh, get over yourself," Sam scoffed with a smile. "We've been pretty damn successful here without you. We're the talk of the town."

"Really? I didn't hear anything when I was showing the boys around town tonight, did we, boys?" Jake spoke to the crowd around them, and Sam startled slightly at their muddled replies and laughs as he remembered that it wasn't just him and his brothers alone in this space they had grown up in.  

"When we had dinner tonight, did any of you hear about the ol' Caravel?" Jake teased, slinging an arm around Sam and pulling him down to his height, mussing his hair. "Any talk of sweet Brandy?"

"Shut up!" Sam cried, trying to wiggle out of Jake's surprisingly strong grip, his face flushing as the men around them erupted into raucous laughter and whistles. He finally released him, Sam immediately straightening and brushing his hair out with his fingers with a huff as Josh covered a smile with his hand and Jake laughed. 

"You're the worst," Sam declared in true youngest sibling fashion. "You can make your own drinks tonight, how about that?"

"It would be my pleasure," Jake invited warmly, and from the genuine twinkle in his eye, Sam could tell he meant it. 

"Don't you fuck up my bar, Jacob," Josh said seriously, jabbing his finger at his twin as Jake happily made his way behind the counter. "We did all this cleaning and organizing for you, you know."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam exclaimed, putting the pieces together as he glared down Josh, who immediately turned sheepish under Sam's sharp gaze. "You knew he was coming back? That's why you were being so weird? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We thought it would be a fun surprise," Josh explained meekly. "I still think it was."

"You're unbelievable," Sam sneered, secretly very touched by the gesture. "If I had known it was just Jake, I would've left some of that glass out on the floor."

"Cruel!" Jake cried from his spot behind the bar, where he was now dutifully pouring drinks for his crew, who were only now starting to settle. "It's not just me, it's my men, too. Wouldn't want them getting hurt, now would we?"

Sam didn't reply, simply smiling innocently and turning back to grab his tray to tend to the sailors who had taken seats at tables. He didn't remember exactly where it had ended up landing in his tackling of Jake. He looked around the shoulders of the burly men who had conveniently gathered around the spot on the bar he figured he must have set it down, but didn't see it anywhere. 

Behind him, the jukebox started up, a high instrumental starting to swing out over the crowd inside the Caravel. Sam turned towards the sound instinctually, and blinked in shock when he saw his tray resting atop the jukebox, sitting casually beside the tall man facing the jukebox. Sam approached the tray thief, sidling around his strong frame and preparing himself to have to argue with whoever this kleptomaniac was. Instead, Sam found himself freezing up when he caught sight of the man's profile. 

His eyes, cast down and shadowed by dark, stern brows and long lashes, tracked the song listings as his long, calloused fingers ghosted the dials. His hair was as long as Jake's and fell in smoky ringlets that swayed against his broad shoulders. His nose was handsomely aquiline, and Sam realized that he was close enough to see a peppering of freckles across it. He swallowed thickly and prayed that he hadn't been standing there too long, suddenly unaware of how much time had passed since he had first started looking at the stranger. Sam decided to break himself out of his brief funk by reaching up and snatching the tray off of the jukebox, the flimsy metal making a racket that made the jukebox man jump slightly and turn to Sam with wide eyes. 

"That's my tray," Sam announced, staring him down. There was a short pause, a smile creeping onto the man's face as his gaze softened.

"You're Brandy," he finally said, his small smile stretching into a full, charming smile that was crooked in the way Sam had only ever read about. Sam flushed, his ears going hot as he gripped the tray tightly and curled his lip.

"It's Sam, actually," Sam snapped, wondering why his flustered state was translating as frustration.

"Oh, well, my apologies," the man said sincerely, dipping his head slightly in apology. "That's what the captain called you. I'm Daniel."

"Your captain is my brother, so I wouldn't take anything he says about me at face value," Sam explained, pushing away the thought of what the hell Jake told his crew he was like, if he talked about him and Josh at all. He must have. He was too much of a sap not to. 

Daniel laughed, and Sam flinched at the sound. He didn't know why, it was a nice laugh.

"Don't worry, he speaks very highly of you," Daniel affirmed, and Sam was annoyed to find himself physically relaxing. Did he really care what a bunch of sailors thought of him? "You don't look how I pictured, though." 

"Oh?" Sam barked out an awkward laugh. "What did you think I'd look like?"

Daniel shrugged, his hair shifting enough to reveal hoops in his ears similar to Jake's. He did a dramatic look up and down of Sam, which made him go hot in the face again as Daniel's eyes finally rested on his own. 

"He always described you as, I don't know, like a squirrely little brother," Daniel remarked, gesturing vaguely at Sam. "Messy hair, snotty nose. Which is definitely not you."

"You're strange," Sam replied, meaning it. 

"You're pretty."

Sam froze as he had when he had first approached Daniel, every muscle tensing up as his mouth snapped shut. Daniel stood there smiling at him like he hadn't said a word. 

"I'm working," Sam countered nervously, turning away and then turning back. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Daniel echoed, looking back down at the jukebox. "Brandy."

Sam tossed a silent glare at him before hurrying away, quickly distracting himself with fetching rounds for the nearby tables occupied by Daniel's crewmates. 

'What the fuck was that?' Sam kept thinking to himself as he bustled around for the next hour, far too aware that Daniel was still somewhere in this space with him. It wasn't that he had made Sam uncomfortable...it was something else entirely. He couldn't put words to it, and it frustrated him. 

"You're a pistol tonight, Sammy," Jake commented as Sam came sailing back to the bar for the 3rd time in the past 10 minutes, clearing his tray and stocking it with a fresh round of clean glasses. "I knew me being here would renew your zest for work."

"You're a hoot, Jakers," Sam said dryly, both of them exchanging mocking faces as Jake poured up Sam's new round. "Your friends are something else."

"They're a lively bunch, aren't they?" Jake responded proudly, casting a look out over the bar at his men. "Make any friends yet? I talk about you and Joshy every chance I get, you should know. These boys all think you two are the bees knees. Brother of the Year goes to me, thank you."

"Daniel told me about that," Sam replied coolly. "The talking about us, not you being Brother of the Year. Not sure you've earned that one, Mr. Runaway."

"Ah, Daniel," Jake smirked, shaking his head with a mysterious smile. "I love that guy. Damn good when it comes to heavy lifting and rigging. Did you get a look at those tree trunk arms of his?"

"I can't say I did," Sam muttered, lying.

"He's a strong fellow. His talents are much appreciated. He also happens to be a complete sweetheart. If you're gonna actually try and befriend any of these fuckers, he's probably your best bet."

"Noted," Sam replied quickly as Jake poured the last drink. "I'll be back in a second."

"Take your time!" Jake encouraged, pushing Sam back out into the fray. "Go say hi to Daniel for me!"

-

Sam didn't honor Jake's request until after 3am, when Josh had finally taken back control of the bar and insisted Jake and his crewmates get moving so they could clean up. 

"Tell me they're not staying in our house," Josh muttered to Jake as the three of them huddled behind the bar, pretending to be busy as the sailors all gathered up their coats and drunkenly stumbled their way to the entrance. "You promised. We only have the three rooms and our living room is certainly not up to code for sailor folk."

"I've booked them week-long stays at the inn, don't even worry about it," Jake insisted in a whisper. "I sure hope I'm allowed the privilege to sleep in my own bed."

"Of course, idiot," Josh smiled, smacking Jake's arm. "Your bed is still how you left it."

"You're only here for a week?" Sam questioned, his stomach sinking as reality shook the seeming eternity of this odd night. 

"I'm afraid so, pipsqueak," Jake affirmed, his tone weak but his voice far too laced with whiskey to effectively communicate any kind of genuine sadness. 

Sam stared into the glass he was halfheartedly wiping and held back everything he wanted to say. He wished he could say anything about how it wasn't fair to the family for Jake to leave for so long, or how the almost complete lack of communication was even less fair, or how much easier it would be for him to just stay. But Jake was drunk, and it was late, and it just wasn't worth it, so Sam just mumbled an "okay" and stacked the glass. 

"You know," Sam started to say, faltering slightly when both of them looked at him expectantly. "Josh, why don't you just go back with Jake and I'll finish up here. I don't think he can make it back by himself, and I doubt he's kept hold of his house key since leaving."

"Aw, Sammy, you don't have to," Josh pushed back, putting an appreciative hand on Sam's slight shoulder. "I think he can make his way."

"I'm standing right here," Jake interjected, swaying only slightly as he leaned forward. "I can give input. My input is I'm completely fine to walk the 5 minutes home."

"And you have your key?"

Jake paused, his glassy eyes darting around in space as he thought, gently moving to pat his pockets.

"He does not," Josh said to Sam alone, his tired features raising in devilish amusement.

"No, he does not," Sam agreed as they watched Jake turn away slightly to dig in his pockets some more. 

"Still here," Jake piped up again, finally giving up on his key search. "But, yes, it would seem I've misplaced them. But I can wait outside. It's not even that cold and I got some fire in my belly to keep me warm."

"People are going to think you're a vagrant, Jake, no," Sam argued, waving his brothers away. "Josh, take him home. Both of you, get some sleep for once. I'll lock up and see you in the morning."

"Are you sure, Sammy?" Josh asked again, looking at him with a little too much concern. "I'm not saying I don't think you can, I'm just-"

"Get out!" Sam insisted, grabbing both of them by the shoulder and spinning them to face away from him. "And stay out! Follow the crowd, little fish, swim away. I'll be fine, I can handle putting up chairs and mopping."

"Fine, fine, sheesh," Josh giggled, wrestling Sam away from him and slinging a rough arm around Jake, hauling him towards the last few men trailing out the door. "You take care of my baby! And get home quick!"

"Bite me!" Sam replied cheerfully, waving them away with his rag like he was waving off a ship.

"Good to see you again, Sam! I love you!" Jake called loudly, despite being only a few feet away.

"I love you too, you drunk!" 

"Aw!" Jake blew him a kiss, causing Josh to cackle and start up an unheard conversation as they opened the door in identical hand slaps and slipped out into the cool, dark night. 

Sam turned his back to the door, slinging the rag in his hand over the spigot of the sink and sliding the tub of dirty dishes into the basin, letting the water run from cool to warm to soak them. He looked into the full length mirror that Josh had tipped sideways in front of the sink and just under the first shelf of bottles, grimacing slightly at the dark circles continuing to grow under his eyes and the state of the flyaways that had fallen from the ponytail he'd thrown up around 1am. Sam leaned in closer, pulling the ribbon from his hair and letting it fall in a shiny curtain, smoothing it back with his damp fingers. Something fluttered in the mirror, causing Sam to squint and look into the slightly warped and smudged glass, catching sight of something dark behind him. He straightened with a jolt and spun on his heel, brandishing the silk ribbon as if it could do anything to protect him against an intruder. 

Instead, he found Daniel wandering around by the door, watching him with that same gentle smile he'd given him before. Sam's heart had raced when he'd seen something behind him, but now it was just about ready to slam a gory hole through his chest and escape. 

"Oh, my God," Sam wheezed, clutching his chest to hold his heart in. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I didn't mean to," Daniel said with a chuckle, his long legs delivering him to the bar. "I was worried we got off on the wrong foot and wanted to rectify that."

"And you figured waiting in the corner like a silent specter until I was alone was the perfect solution to starting up a jolly ol' friendship?" Sam teased, annoyance lacing his voice with no real venom behind it. "I stand behind when I said you were strange."

"And I stand behind what I said after you said that," Daniel doubled down, leaning onto the bar and meeting Sam's eye, which Sam tried to hold with a nervous swallow.

"Oh, is that why you stayed?" Sam laughed weakly, turning away from Daniel to start on properly washing the dishes. "I don't know what kind of guy you think I am, but I'm not like that."

"No, no, that's not..." Daniel sighed, and Sam watched him lean his head against his hand in the mirror for a brief moment before looking up again, watching the back of Sam's head. "I'm fucking blowing this, huh?"

"Pretty much," Sam agreed with a smile, his cheeks warming. "You really haven't talked to anybody outside of your crewmates for a while, hm?"

"No," Daniel mumbled dejectedly, and Sam bit his lip to prevent a giggle from escaping.

"I can tell."

There was a minute of quiet between them, the only sound being the motion of the water in the sink and the dishes clinking together as Sam rinsed them and wiped them down haphazardly. 

"Do you want help? I can dry."

Sam looked over his shoulder in surprise at the offer. Daniel looked sincere, so Sam nodded slightly and motioned for him to join him behind the bar. Now that they were standing right next to each other, Daniel's towering height and body heat were dizzying in Sam's peripheral as he struggled to keep his hands steady in the soapy water. Daniel dutifully took the ratty drying towel and gently dried off the glasses and plates as Sam handed them to him, both of them working in tense silence. Sam's mind spun as they fell into rhythm, wondering once again just what the hell was going on tonight. 

They were done in a quick 10 minutes, with Daniel drying the last dish with a flourish and training his blinding smile on Sam, who returned it with much less fervor. 

"What next?" Daniel asked brightly. Sam just looked at him for a second, squinting his eyes in confusion as he stared up at the kindly giant who was apparently more than ready for chores.

"Dude, we're closed," Sam explained. "And you don't work here. You're lucky I let you stay this long. You don't have to be here."

"I know, but I want to be," Daniel explained right back. "And you're lucky to have some company. So, what's next?"

"Uh," Sam stuttered, utterly flummoxed by Daniel. "Well, I was going to put the chairs up so I can mop."

"Okay, why don't you get the mopping stuff and I'll put the chairs up?"

"Well-"

It was too late for any kind of response because Daniel had already started shimmying out from behind the bar and making his way over to the sea of tables that had been knocked around and moved all night, straightening them up and effortlessly lifting chairs with a single hand and sitting them gently on the wood. Sam hesitated for only a minute, watching Daniel work to a tune he had started humming, absently wringing his cold hands before wiping them on his apron and shuffling off to the maintenance closet to pull out the mop and bucket. By the time he had wrangled them out, Daniel had managed to get every chair off the ground, allowing Sam to flop the old mop onto the hardwood and start pushing clean water across it. 

"Careful or I'm going to mop you into a corner," Sam threatened, starting towards Daniel with the mop. Daniel yelped in mock fear, backing away dramatically with his hands up. Sam let his front fall for a moment at seeing Daniel play along so easily, smiling as he lifted the mop off the ground and held it out towards Daniel, swinging a spray of floor water towards the sailor. Daniel yelped for real then, laughing as he tip toed his way back towards the bar, perching on one of the bolted down stools as Sam snickered to himself, continuing his mopping route.

"You're a beast with that thing," Daniel encouraged, kicking his leg up onto the stool and resting his cheek against his knee. "How long have you been a mopping prodigy?"

"Well, I've been the designated mopper since I was 12, so about 10 years now," Sam said, and Daniel let out a low whistle. 

"I'm surprised they started you on it that late. Did you do any work here before that?"

"Some," Sam offered, redipping the mop. "More cleaning stuff. I couldn't serve until after we inherited it, so I had sort of a late start on that front." 

"Jake told us about that." Daniel paused. "I'm sorry about your parents."

"It's alright," Sam answered immediately, the response mechanical after so many years of sentiments. He couldn't even begin to delve back into the emotions their accident brought. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Another lull, save for the sound of water.

"My folks bit it, too."

Sam's grip on the mop shifted and he had to fight it from falling over, looking over to Daniel at the bar, whose face was still chipper despite his statement.

"Same thing too, actually," Daniel continued, his hand tracing the motion of waves. "Spot of bad weather on a trip and down they went. The sea is a merciless mistress."

"I-I'm sorry to hear that," Sam stammered, shocked at how blasé Daniel was about such a trauma, especially considering how much he could relate.

"As you said, it's alright, and thank you," Daniel grinned, nuzzling his cheek into his knee further. "I forgave her."

"Her?"

"The sea," Daniel explained, his eyes twinkling slightly. "She can't help but do what she does. Sometimes it means getting a little rough and taking a few of our own. She can't stop it, and neither can I. All I can do is try and bend to her ever changing will."

"Sounds like you two have a complicated relationship," Sam joked as he mopped himself back towards the maintenance closet. Daniel laughed and he nearly bowed under the weight of it, instead gripping the sweat slick handle of the mop a little tighter.

"Maybe we do," Daniel laughed, watching Sam with a fierce grin. "But I love it. She's my life, my lover, my lady."

"Is that so?" Sam leaned the mop back inside the closet, taking advantage of the door shielding him from seeing Daniel for a second. "Then what are you doing here with a landlubber like me?"

There was no reply, forcing Sam to close the door and make eye contact with Daniel again, who was still staring at him with that frustratingly ever present smile ghosting his rosy lips. 

"Because I'm going to need someone to hang out with while I'm here," Daniel said simply. "And Jake told me you're my best bet."

Sam couldn't help but let an inappropriately timed laugh escape then, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and crossing his arms.

"Jake, you bitch," he spoke to the sky. "He said the same damn thing to me tonight."

"Ha! He's never struck me as the matchmaker type," Danny chuckled. "What a sly dog." 

"I wouldn't call it matchmaking," Sam protested, bending to lift the mop bucket and struggling to get it off the ground, flushing in embarrassment. In a flash, Daniel was on his feet and in front of Sam, taking the bucket from him and carrying it like it was a glass of water.

"I would," Daniel argued back. "Where do you need this?"

"Uh, the sink," Sam replied meekly, waving towards the sink. "If you get it there, I can dump it."

"Don't bother, I got it," Daniel insisted, strolling over to the sink and tipping the gray, foamy water down the drain. "Come on, you're not going to let me take you out?"

"I already told you, I'm not that kind of guy," Sam doubled down, tucking hair behind his ear as he watched Daniel shake the last of the water out. "Gimme that."

"I suppose you'll want this back too?"

Daniel held the bucket aloft and in his same curled hand, Sam's silk hair ribbon hung down, the longest bit of lilac thread nearly grazing the inside of the bucket. Sam let an involuntary quiet gasp fly, feeling his cheeks flush once again as he stomped towards Daniel, reaching out for the bucket and ribbon. Daniel held it even higher then, giggling down at Sam as he stood on his tiptoes and struggled for his things.

"You're a fucking kleptomaniac, you know that, right?" Sam hissed in frustration. "It's a disease, and buddy, you have it tenfold."

"One date, that's all I ask," Daniel cooed. "Jake said you'd be tough, so I came prepared to wear you down."

"Jake said what?!"

"He saaaaid,'' Daniel began, lifting the bucket and ribbon even higher when Sam made a springing jump for them, grabbing desperately. "That his little brother was a sweetheart pretending to be a real tough cookie and in desperate need of a date."

"Lies and slander," Sam seethed. "Jake was lying through his teeth to prank you. You've been pranked. Now bite the bullet and give me my things back, please!"

"Mm, no, see, he said you'd say something like that," Daniel hummed, backing up against the bar as Sam stalked closer. "He said there were few things you'd be unable to resist and that I had the most of those qualifications out of our crew. Therefore, I was deemed the lucky fellow tasked with treating you right."

"Oh, really? And what are these alleged traits I find so irresistible?" 

"He said you were a sucker for dark hair," Daniel smiled, cocking his head so his glossy curls swung around his flushed face. "Especially curly hair. He said you like freckles, and green eyes, but most of all you like someone who can handle your attitude."

Sam stood there silently, his heart pounding in his ears as he attempted to glare a hole through the center of Daniel's head.

"You don't have green eyes," Sam pointed out, his voice still dark with frustration. "And I can barely see your freckles." 

"But you admit I'm doing a good job of handling your attitude."

"Stop putting fucking words in my mouth!"

"Stop fighting me and admit you're enjoying yourself!" Daniel crowed, the bucket swinging happily over his head. "You already like having me around. I'm charming, and I'm useful, and I'll pay for your dinner." 

They stared each other down, inches apart, Sam's already burnt out brain churning desperately to make sense of the situation and figure out how to proceed with such a relentless prick holding him up like this. Finally, he dropped back down to the balls of his feet and let his arms rest at his side, letting out a furious huff through his nose and walking away from Daniel.

"Keep them, I could give a fuck," Sam declared. "I'm going the fuck home. Get the fuck out."

Daniel laughed again, and Sam could've strangled him for it. He heard the clank of the bucket hitting the floor and then the soft tread of Daniel's footsteps approaching. He drew in a sharp breath when Daniel's arm came around his side and extended the ribbon to him, his palm up as if in surrender. 

"At least let me walk you home," Daniel maintained, his voice low and velvet soft. "I don't want any criminals snatching you up on your way."

Sam's hand came up and gently took the ribbon from Daniel, the tips of his finger grazing the warm roughness of his hand and then retreating just as quickly, tucking the ribbon into his pocket. He sighed deeply and looked over his shoulder, trying not to startle physically when he realized how close Daniel was, the front of his dark linen top nearly grazing the curve of Sam's back. 

"Get your coat," Sam muttered, stepping out of the near embrace and making his way to the back door. "And stay away from the register."

Daniel laughed as he went back for his corduroy jacket, sneaking a look at the back of Sam's head and graceful figure.

"You really think I'm a lowdown dirty thief, don't you?" Daniel accused, catching up to Sam and opening the door before he got the chance, a gesture which Sam begrudgingly accepted as he stepped out for the second time that night. 

"Yes, I do," Sam agreed, all but yanking Daniel out the door and locking the door with a firm click that soothed his soul a little, certain the craziness of the night was locked away with it.

"You have no idea," Daniel murmured mysteriously, dipping down to hum it in Sam's ear. The feeling of his hot breath ghosting the cold shell of his ear sent chills down Sam's neck that made him involuntarily speed up his pace as they walked down the dim, quiet alleyway. 

This walk usually took about 10 minutes when he walked with Josh, slowing his speed ever so slightly to account for the gangly legs that Josh simply did not possess. However, with Daniel beside him, Sam arrived at his door in record time, not needing to check the time to know it had been about half his usual time. Daniel had tried a few times to strike up a conversation, but Sam had chosen to satiate him only with simple replies and looks, far too worn out to put up with his relentless cheer any longer. 

"Well, this is me," Sam said with finality, pulling his keys out again and giving Daniel a polite smile. "Thank you for walking me home, it was nice to meet you."

"Of course," Daniel replied, his eyes tracing over Sam's face as Sam quietly slid the key into the lock and opened the door a crack. Before Sam could get inside and finally wind down for the night, Daniel reached out and grasped his arm with gentle force, turning Sam ever so slightly towards him.

"Listen, before I go," Daniel began, his perky expression fading ever so slightly into a calmer look Sam couldn't quite read, his features softened by the hazy moonlight. "I know I've been a lot, and I know you probably don't care for me very much, but I really would like to take you to dinner tomorrow."

Sam let out a long, heavy sigh, looking longingly towards the door. Once inside, he would be able to fall into his nice, warm, comfy bed and just sleep. He could even sleep in if he wanted to, and then in the morning, he would get to hang out with his brother, whom he hadn't seen in 2 full years. But here he was, being tugged on by an aggressively cheerful sailor, who was also aggressively into him. Standing on worn, tired legs, in the cold, in the dead of night. There was only one thing standing between him and that sleep he was fantasizing about.

"Sure," Sam finally agreed, shifting awkwardly to accommodate the grin that burst onto Daniel's face at the affirmation. "If it'll get you off my doorstep."

"Wonderful," Daniel said, his smile bleeding into his voice. "Meet me at the pub by the inn at 5 tomorrow. I'll have you back before your shift starts."

"How do you know when-"

"Have a good night," Daniel cut him off, patting Sam's shoulder before spinning on his heel and setting off towards the inn, whistling the jukebox tune he'd played earlier in the night as Sam watched his dark form bounce away. 

Sam waited until he was out of sight to release the tension he'd been holding in his chest in the form of a fast, hot huff of breath, bracing himself against the doorway as he took in another drink of cool air and tried to stave off the perplexing dizzying feeling that overcame him. He entered his house as quietly as he could and shut the door firmly behind him, his fingertips shaking from the adrenaline that had overcome him and seized every bodily motion with uncomfortable velocity. Clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to get it out of his system, Sam silently padded by Josh's room, listening only for a second before he heard the soft and unmistakable rattle of the snoring his brother claimed not to do. Next, he stopped in front of Jake's door, finding it ajar and peeking in to see him curled up on top of the blanket and sheets, one of his comically large wide brimmed hats sat crookedly on his head and tipped over his face. Sam went to shut the door but stopped halfway, recalling a memory of Jake tossing a shoe at his head when they were much younger, bitching to keep the door open because he "needed the air". Sam left it open, and retreated to his room.

Sam immediately collapsed on the edge of his bed, slipping his shoes off and ridding himself of his shirt and pants in a flurry of motion, rolling over with a grunt and taking the blanket with him.  He faced the wall for a few minutes, trying to steady his breathing so he could dip into the sleep he so desperately craved, but his eyes didn't close and his mind didn't slow to allow unconsciousness. He turned so he was laying on his back, pulling the covers over his bare chest and staring up at the blank ceiling, trying to clear his mind. 

It was around 5am when Sam finally got his shut eye, sinking back into his thin pillow with his lips parted, the darkness outside starting to lift with the first flickers of morning light. It had only taken an hour of tossing, turning, and indulging in the relentless parade of images flickering against his eyelids, counting the freckles on the strange sailor's nose until he drifted away.

~~~

[emeralddoeadeer]

trick or treat?

A little October 31st palate cleanser excerpt from Everlong Jily, thanks for the suggestion, Anon.

Lily doesn’t bother changing her clothes, simply envelopes herself in a warm coat and locks the door behind her, walking to the house around the corner.

The sound of children laughing catches her attention, a ladybird and a ninja zoom past her, a harried parent apologising as they follow diligently, a tote bag filled with treats rustling.

Leaves crunch underfoot, red, yellow, and brown, bringing a smile to her face; autumn is her favourite season.

Lily rings the bell, surprised when the bespectacled face that appears is forty years younger than she was expecting, “Trick or treat?”

James leans against the door frame, “You are always a treat Lil, you coming in?”

She follows him inside, the smell of wood burning draws her into the snug where she kicks off her shoes and removes her outer layer, before standing in front of the flames, replacing heat for heat, much to James’ amusement.

He loves that she makes herself at home here, a warmth spreading through him that has more to do with her than the fire in the grate.

“Where are your folks?”

“They went to Dotty’s, her grandkids are visiting, going round the doors here instead of their neighbourhood, Mum and Dad were invited along.”

She nods her head, the thought hadn’t even occurred to her to check, “I uh, got new locks and wanted to drop off a spare key, that’s why I’m here.”

He smiles at her sudden bashfulness, “You don’t need an excuse, I was dropping the car back… but I’m staying for dinner, and I reckon since you don’t have a functioning kitchen yet, you should too, but you’ll have to hang about until they’re back.”

Lily stands with her back to the fire, hands clasped behind her to gather warmth, she bites down on her lip looking back at him, the reflection in his glasses of flames dancing across the lenses.

He takes a step forward and then another, holding his hand out to her, “Come, we can shoot some pool while we wait, the doorbell is pretty loud so if anyone comes, we’ll hear it.”

She slips her hand in his, fingers threading together allowing him to lead her to the games room.

She bumps her shoulder against his, the table already has balls scattered, clear it’s been abandoned mid-match, “Yes, ok, I was playing myself, but it’s more fun to beat someone else so—”

Cut off by her swat, he retrieves the triangle and starts stacking the balls while Lily collects her preferred cue and chalks the tip.

“What are we playing for?” She asks, noticing the soft vocals over electronic music playing from the sound system, a song she hasn’t heard in years, ambient background music.

“How about, old school rules… winner gets a dare.”

Lily accepts his terms but insists she goes first potting two reds and a yellow and progressing around the board to pot another two reds, before narrowly missing the pocket.

Aside from the brief walk to her flat, runs shared in the park and the time together when she was poorly, this is the first real alone time James and she have had together in years.

Lily feels a current run through her, not from apprehension or discomfort but anticipation.

She watches as James lines up his shot, the sleeves of his grey Henley pushed up, tanned forearms already on show, muscles contracting as he arches his hand, altering the angle of the bridge.

“This is nice—” his voice cuts through her reverie, “—us… hanging out.”

Lily looks up to see him watching her, looking for a reaction to his words, tentatively taking his shot and moving to the next set-up.

This boy, this man, he has no idea what he does to her.

The yellow is potted but followed swiftly into the pocket by the white, James collects the cue ball and lays it in the semi-circle for Lily to take her shot, she stands in place, seemingly appraising the table for the best angle.

James walks back around to her side, pausing to see things from her perspective, see what she has planned.

She turns, her back against the long rail, hardly a gap between them, he smiles down at her, his dimple appearing, enjoying this dance, this game.

...

If you want the rest of the scene, click here for chapter 20. It's the one everyone waited a long time for.

xDoe