#jimmy buckets shirt

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 4.1)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: self-doubt, bad self-body image

words: 3.3k

Summary: The bar is closed for some spring cleaning outside on the deck. At the same time, the navy pilots played some football on the beach in an attempt for some team-building exercise. After a while, Penny asked you to take her dog Theo for a walk on the beach...

Link to my masterlist

It was the day the bar was closed and therefore your day off, but you were at the Hard Deck anyway because Penny asked you to help with some sort of a spring cleaning of the bar, including the deck outside and washing all the big windows at the beachfront. Penny was taking care of the windows as you and Jimmy set up all the deck chairs, cleaning them off with a high-pressure cleaner. Penny’s dog Theo was running around you guys, having the time of his life running off with the sponge or chasing the water Penny was spritzing into the air.

It was the middle of the afternoon, the sun starting to fall after its noon peak, when you were done and Jimmy had taken off. Penny was sitting outside on the deck, going over the books. She had told you that you could also leave when Jimmy left but what else were you going to do?

All the people you knew in town were either at this bar or on the beach as the naval aviators were playing football with Maverick. Apparently, some sort of a team-building exercise for their mission training.

They had placed their belongings at the bar before wandering off onto the beach in their swimming trunks and sport outfits. You were in the middle of drying off the last deck chair as your eyes kept wandering over to the group. All men including Maverick were playing without a shirt on, except for Bob. The two women in the squad were wearing shorts and sports bras.

Your eyes were wandering to Hangman who was totally ripped and his upper body was glistening with sweat. Fuck, he looked good. Actually, everybody did. From Rooster to Coyote to Maverick, everybody was sporting a muscley, toned physique that apparently was mandatory by the Navy.

When you looked over at Penny, you caught her admiring the group in the same way you did, although her eyes were clearly set on Maverick. Her stare was interrupted when Theo jumped up and tried to grab the pen from her hands with his mouth. “Hey, no!”, she called out and motioned him to sit but he wiggled around like he had bees in his butt.

“Y/N, would you mind taking Theo for a little walk on the beach? Maybe throw the ball? I need to finish this here”, Penny asked you, pointing at the books in front of her. “Sure, I’m done here anyway”, you told her and threw the towel into the bucket. You wiped your hands on your shorts and kicked off your shoes.

You re-did your ponytail and grabbed the ball from the table where Penny had placed it earlier. “Thank you”, she said before you walked off the deck and called Theo, who followed you with a wiggling tail.

You had actually planned to go to the beach after work since you’ve never been since you moved here and it was a hot day. But after seeing the guys and gals playing football, everybody super fit and tanned and gorgeous, the urge to take your own clothes off had fallen to a negative one hundred. It made you feel even weirder that you were already wearing your bathing suit underneath your shorts and tank top.

You walked down the little pathway onto the sandy beach, walking towards the water and the group. “Hey Mav”, you said as you arrived at a beach chair that Mav has sat down in while you were walking down here.

“Hey Y/N! Up for a round of dogfight football?”, Mav asked you, looking up from his chair. You shielded your eyes from the low sun and watched the two groups charge at each other. “No thanks, I let you Navy guys do that. But I could go for a round of volleyball”, you suggested. “I got no ball with me, but that sounds like a good idea. Imma hold you to it”, he offered. “You got it”, you agreed with a smile and he gave you a fist bump.

“Are you done for the day?”, you asked, still watching the guys running around on the beach, celebrating when they scored a touchdown. They actually looked more like a team than they did all the times before when you saw them at the bar. You could only imagine what it was like at base camp as you had actually no idea what they did all day.

“Ah, yeah. I’ll leave the kids to play”, he said and started patting Theo, playing with him as Theo tried to catch Maverick’s finger he was wiggling in front of the dog’s face. “Are you done working, too?”, he asked you. “Yes, Penny asked me to distract this little guy so she can take care of the books”, you told him and he nodded. “But I’m sure she can use a break as well”, you added with a smirk on your lips. Mav looked over his shoulder towards the Hard Deck. “You think?”, he asked as he turned around again. “Oh, I’m sure”, you nodded encouragingly.

“Come on, Theo. Let’s throw that ball”, you said to your furry friend and wiggled the ball in front of his face to get his attention. You walked a few feet away from the group as to not get in their space before you started throwing the ball for Theo. Every time you threw it, Theo took a detour through the incoming waves. No matter how far away you managed to throw it from the ocean, he always splashed in the water before he came back to you. And whenever he came back with the ball, he shook his fur free from the water right in front of you, splashing you from top to bottom.

“Dude, I’m so wet because of you”, you said to him as he did another shake in front of you after dropping the ball by your feet. “A sentence Bob will never hear”, you heard Hangman’s voice next to you as he got the football that had landed close to you.

“Are you being a good boy and retrieving the ball for Maverick?”, you asked as you bent down to grab Theo’s ball and stood up again. “You got the good boy part right”, he said with a wink. Despite your better judgement, you giggled at his comment instead of your usual eyeroll and it surprised the both of you, which you saw at the expression on his face.

“Y/N!”, you suddenly heard behind you and the next moment, two strong arms wrapped around you from behind, beginning to lift you upwards. “Ahhh”, you let out a loud squeal and your body got all stiff. “No! Let me down!”, you demanded but tried to keep the sound of your voice light and friendly, even though you hated nothing more than to be lifted in the air.

Not because you actually hated to be up there but because you believed to be too heavy to be lifted by anybody and that when the person actually struggles to lift you or actually straight up can’t, it’s only gonna be embarrassing for the both of you.

Only when you turned around as you felt the sandy beach beneath your feet again, you found Rooster to be the person that tried to lift you. He was only wearing his jeans shorts (bold choice) and his upper body was glistening with sweat, just like all the others that started gathering around you. Fanboy took the ball from your hand and started throwing it for Theo.

“Are you guys done playing?”, you asked and shielded your eyes from the low sun. “Yeah, we’re absolutely roasted”, Fanboy told you, sounding out of breath. “Let’s all take a dip in the ocean”, Payback suggested. “Yeah, let’s do that”, Rooster agreed. “You coming, too?”, he asked you. “Oh, no, you guys go ahead. I got the little guy here”, you told him and pointed at Theo who was just bringing the ball back to Fanboy.

“Just send him back up to Penny, he knows the way”, Rooster suggested. “If you want to change, we can wait for you”, Phoenix offered. “Or go in your underwear, we don’t mind”, Fanboy mentioned. “Thank you, Fanboy, but I’m actually already wearing my bathing suit”, you told them and lifted the hem of your shirt to show off the black fabric.

“Okay, then it’s settled. Let’s go”, Rooster said and patted your back. You contemplated for a moment. You were hot and sweaty from your work and you had planned on going into the ocean for a swim anyways. A sudden inner defiance against your own insecurities about your body and its size had you finally giving in.

“Alright, but let me put my clothes by the chair”, you told them and started walking over to said chair, taking Theo with you. When you came closer, you noticed that Maverick was gone. When you looked towards the Hard Deck, you found him talking to Penny, sitting across from her.

You put the ball gently into Theo’s mouth and told him to go to his owner, which he actually understood and you watched him run up the path towards Penny, dropping the ball by her feet. That made her advert her eyes from Maverick and look at her little companion. She grabbed the ball and looked down onto the beach where she found you waving. She waved back and gave you a thumbs up.

The others had followed you and started to take off their clothes, revealing some swim shorts beneath their regular pants.

At first, you didn’t want to undress in front of them, but then you thought that there was no comparison between them and you anyway, you were playing in different leagues, well, technically you’re not competing as you didn’t even play the same sport. Figuratively AND literally.

You unzipped your shorts and pushed them down your legs before you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a one-piece bathing suit with cut-outs on the side, just low enough to hide the rolls on your back, but also high enough to show your smaller waist which you were actually quite proud of.

You laid out your clothes so they could dry while you were taking a dip. As the others were quicker than you, they already headed for the waves.

As you got up, you reached inside the bra portion of your bathing suit and rearranged your boobs to fit better. You had the bathing suit for a little while and it got a bit snug around certain parts but it was still the best bathing suit you had ever owned, so you would never throw it out.

When you turned around, you locked eyes with Bob, who was sitting there in his shirt and shorts, applying sunscreen on his arms, while your hand was still in your bra. “Just sorting out the girls”, you said and let out a little embarrassed chuckle. You quickly pulled your hand out and put your hands on your hips as you suddenly didn’t know what to do with them.

“Are you not going swimming?”, you asked. “No, I rather sit this one out, thanks”, he said and you immediately recognized the shyness that came with the unwillingness to take off your own shirt in front of other people. “I bet after such an intense game, a dip in the ocean must be quite nice”, you said and tried to make it sound super random.

“Yeah, probably”, he just shrugged his shoulders. He was a hard one to crack but you knew from personal experience how that felt. “You can just go in with your shirt on, you know?”, you suggested. “Yeah, like that wouldn’t look super awkward”, he scoffed and looked out at the ocean where the guys and girls already swam, dipping each other under the water and splashing around.

“I can put my shirt back on as well, then we’re already two”, you offered. “But you just sorted out the girls”, he said. His comment was so dry that it took you a good moment to recognize the joke within.

“Look who got some jokes now”, you chuckled and nudged his shoulder. A shy smile appeared on his lips and he looked down at the bottle of sunscreen in his hands.

“Listen, if I was able to take off my shirt, then definitely you can, too”, you told him. “Easy for you to say”, he responded and was hinting at something obvious, but it just wasn’t obvious to you. Didn’t he know that for girls it was always harder to undress in public, especially for girls with a body like yours?

“Hey, would it help if I go without my top on as well?”, you suggested as a joke, your thumb under the strap of your bathing suit. “Yeah, immensely”, he immediately answered. “And for that you have to go swimming with me now”, you told him off with your index finger pointed at him. Then you extended your hand and pulled him up when he finally took it. Together, you walked towards the ocean.

“Y/N!”, Rooster called out as soon as he saw you. He was halfway out of the water and came straight towards you. “NO!”, you immediately said and held out your hand in front of you. “Not again!”, you added as he sped up. You started walking to the side, speeding up as best as you could. When you saw him starting to run, you tried to play along and also run away from him, but you knew that you and cardio weren’t the best of friends and also this would end in the water anyway. And before you would alarm everybody with a bright, red face and a whistling tone while you tried to breathe, you started to run towards the water.

Rooster was behind you in no time, wrapped his arms around you again and managed to cover exactly the cut-outs of your bathing suit. Even though you knew what was coming, the sudden skin-on-skin contact threw you off a little bit and Rooster used the irritation to pick you up and carry you the few steps into deeper water before he threw you in.

You were actually glad about the cool-down the water provided you with. Normally, you were not surrounded by so many good-looking people in so little clothing and it got to you a little bit. Your last time has been way too long ago. Way, way too long.

“Why do you guys always have to be so rough?”, you said after coming back up to the surface, spitting out the water and rubbing your eyes, a salty taste in your mouth. “Some girls like it rough”, Coyote commented with a sleezy laugh, bobbing in the water behind you. “Yeah, well there’s a place and a time. Like the bedroom or the backseat of a Bronco”, you said out loud before you could think. “She’s not wrong”, Rooster agreed and got a dreamy expression on his face. Only now you realized that he was actually driving a Bronco and probably had some good times in there other than a few fun road trips.

When you looked back to the beach, you found Bob standing there. “Hey!”, you exclaimed and waved at him to come into the water. “You don’t think I’ll actually do it, huh?”, you shouted towards him. “Do what?”, Fanboy asked. “I told him I’ll take my top off if he does as well and comes into the water”, you told him. “BOB, GET THAT SHIRT OFF AND YOU DAMN ASS OVER HERE!”, Fanboy screamed towards the beach and some of the other guys screamed Bob’s name as well and motioned him to get into the water. “Come on, Bob!”, Phoenix called out towards her teammate and back-seater.

When he finally took off his shirt and came into the water, everybody cheered. “Alright, your turn”, he said to you when he arrived at the group that were all bobbing in the water together. “Stop being such horny teenagers. I already took my top off, it’s drying over there in the sun”, you told them and nodded towards your clothes on the beach.

“If you’ll excuse me now, I’m gonna actually swim for a little bit”, you said and as you turned around in the water to start swimming away from the group, you almost crashed into Hangman. You hadn’t noticed him there before. Out of surprise, you put your hands on his chest under the water just to brace yourself. Your fingertips sank into his skin for a split second and you felt his body heat on your palms under the water.

“Sorry”, you just mumbled and noticed that you sounded a bit breathless. “All good”, he simply said.

You swam around him, his eyes following you, and made sure to swim out for a few strokes to get some space between you and Hangman. It embarrassed you how that little moment just threw you off, feeling your cheeks burning up. You dismissed it as the exertion from swimming against the incoming waves.

You swam back and forth for a little bit, trying not to go out too far and when your arms felt tired, you lay on your back, floating on the water and feeling the last rays of sunshine of the day on your face.

You let your mind wander a bit and you started to think about the new friends you had made over the past weeks. It all felt a bit weird. It seemed like the guys were flirting with you, but you also made fun of each other. You never really had guy friends and didn’t know how to categorize all the interactions. You just filed everything under “friendly hazing”. Because there was no other side to it…right?

“Y/N!”, you suddenly heard Phoenix call out your name. You swam upright again and looked towards the shore. She waved you to swim back to the beach as everybody was ready to get out.

Phoenix and Halo, the other woman in the squad, were waiting for you, handing you your clothes. The guys were already back at the Hard Deck, putting their shirts back on.

“Hey, Y/N, Penny said we could stay at the bar for a few hours if you promise to take our money and clean up afterwards”, Coyote told you as you arrived on the deck of the bar. You walked over to your bag and grabbed the big beach towel you had brought with you and wrapped it around your body. You suddenly felt very under-dressed with so many people around you.

You looked at Penny, who seemed to be ready to drive off with Maverick, who was wearing his leather jacket, and had Theo on his leash. She gave you a little nod, letting you know that she was actually okay with Coyote’s suggestion.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Okay, I’ll do that”, you agreed and then turned to Coyote. “If you don’t make such a mess in the first place”, you admonished him and pointed a finger of warning at him. “Scouts honors”, he promised and held up his right hand.

Penny, Mav and Theo left and you got inside with everybody. “I’ll go change”, you told Phoenix and took your bag into the women’s restroom. You changed from your wet bathing suit into the underwear you had brought with you and rubbed your hair somewhat dry before you changed back into your shorts and a fresh black tank top. You looked at your face in the mirror. You regretted that you didn’t have any make-up on you, simple mascara or something, but you really hadn’t expected to be spending your evening with the group.

You came back out and stored your bag under the bar counter.

“Who’s ready for the first round?”.

Next chapter: Part 4.2

[braxiatel]

An assortment of Grian appearance headcanons I’ve had on my mind lately!

(Obligatory mention that I’m talking about Grian the character and not Grian the youtuber, here’s your confirmation that this is not about real life guy Grian minecraft whose appearance is well documented, but rather it is about his minecraft roleplay character who is made out of pixels and blocks and whose appearance is very much up for discussion)

His eyes are that shade of brown that’s so dark it looks black

He wears glasses, and through experience he has learned that unless he wants to be replacing them about once a month he needs them to have a thick and sturdy frame

Grian has a whopping case of adhd and is extremely good at misplacing his belongings. His glasses are not exempt from this just because they help him see, and he has managed to lose every single pair he owns several times. At some point one of his friends (I'm leaning Pearl or Jimmy) got tired of hearing him complain about it, and got him a golden chain to keep them on. Grian pretends he’s just using it because it appeals to his love for shiny things, but in reality it actually helps him a lot and he would be very sad were he to lose it

Speaking of his adhd. This guy moves. He does not sit still, does not like to be doing nothing. He builds, he helps other hermits with stuff they don’t have time to do, and he is well known to do Grindy tasks. And you know what that means? Grian is strong. In fact, Grian is buff

This is related to some hybrid stuff I’ll get more into in a sec, but very specifically, Grian is a flyer and those natural wings need a lot of muscle around them to work. That means a lot of upper body strength, especially in the pectoral region. Yes, I said gritty rights.

I wish I could remember what artist originally drew Grian’s waffle as an undercut with a pattern because I love that headcanon so much. He varies what the rest of his hair looks like (he has a manbun in season 9) but the undercut stays no matter what

Tangentially, the reason Mumbo now has a waffle as well is that his hair just grows in that shape now. He has extremely specific alopecia, and it is unclear whether or not Grian is the same or if he just prefers to keep his hair that way.

Grian has clear and visible bald patches in his eyebrows. This is a product of him having had TNT blow up in his face one too many times, resulting in the follicles having been damaged

Along a similar vein, he is also missing somewhere in the realm of 1-3 fingers total on his hands

I don’t think of Grian as someone who is very particular with his hair or with stuff like makeup. Most days he’ll do the bare minimum of combing his hair to look presentable and that’s it

That said, he loooooooves shiny jewellery, and his wardrobe is by far the largest on the server. Due to aforementioned constant moving he need things that are practical to move in, but other than that he has no rules on what goes in there. You’ve got sequinned mini skirts next to permanently dirt-stained overalls next to rainbow bucket hats. This guy has it all.

He does sometimes wear a red sweater, but I am going to say something controversial here, guys. Look at that man's shirt. Look at that cleavage view. He’s wearing a v-neck

Okay so hybrid headcanons. I have several, mutually exclusive ideas here, but I will go with one I think is, frankly, very underutilised: gryphon hybrid Grian!

Want avian Grian for all of the historically present bird coding? Also want to acknowledge the fact that he has so much mischievous cat energy? Gryphon Grian! He’s half bird, half cat, half human, and all menace.

There are a couple of different bird species I think he could be.

House sparrow, for the noise levels, the tendency to travel in a pack, and the sheer gremlin energy these little bastards exhibit outside of my kitchen window on a daily basis.

I think he could definitely be some kind of corvid too. Maybe a magpie? Beautiful plumage (fight me), incredibly intelligent and likely to make that your problem, and with a call that lends itself very well to Grian’s screech-laughter

You all know my opinions on potoo Grian. It works, okay? Look into his horrible, haunted eyes, you know it to be true.

For a season 10 fisherman arc Grian I am very much leaning towards an oriental darter. There’s just something about the idea of Grian spearfishing for mending books, and sulking in the sun to dry his wings when he only catches fish that I enjoy very much

Owl for his cursed head movements

Okay so wings talk time! I headcanon that naturally avians simply do not have wings strong enough to fly with. They’re too short, and even for someone like Grian who flies A Lot the musculature to support a humanoid frame just isn’t there. That said, elytra are easily modified to function as a sort of wing extension/prosthetic, that allows them to gain much more power for less energy expended.

You would think, with me being the owner of three cats, that I would have some kind of idea for a specific breed of cat he might be. The thing is, my family have historically always kept the same breed (Norwegian forest cat mix c: ), so I know very much about those and no other cat breeds. He is simply cat :)

Biiiiig naughty tortie vibes. My sources for this is I have one of the latter and she is the same level of Problems a Grian

This is the little madam caught in the act of doing something dastardly. She commits one hundred crimes every single day and we love her. Tell me that is not big Grian vibes right there. You can't, right? he is a naughty tortie

Other Grian hybrid options I also like: avian, watcher, robot!!, cod, enchanted armour stand come to life!, and fey!Grian

[charkie-ee]

💚💛❤️ Third Life Series in 2024 (happy 3 years of third life!!) 💚💛❤️

“This series went from being like ‘it’s hardcore with a gimmick!’ to ‘it’s like battle dome in here!’”

so because it has been 3 years since our beloved traffic series has started, i figured a good way to celebrate would be going back and watch 3rd life from the winners pov.

this post will basically contain notes from the 1st episode that my brain has entirely/somewhat forgotten.

if you have not watched 3rd life FULLY this is will contain spoilers! i feel like thats a given, but i'll put it here anyway.

(i was thinking about making this post just for funsies but then i checked the date and realized that it was actually 3rd life’s 3 year anniversary TODAY. fjdkjfkdjd I SO PLANNED THIS. TOTALLY!)

ONE MORE QUICK THING!!: did i forget anything? reply, or put it into the tags if theres something I missed!!

EPISODE ONE: Grian plays Minecraft… With a TWIST

. this is the first series Grian’s officially played using the proximity chat mod.

. mentioned briefly at 2:55, this is Grian’s first hardcore series he’s ever played in.

. the first person grian meets up with is BigB!

. Grian only sees RenDog once in his first episode.

. Grian was originally going to base somewhere in the flower forest (closer to where Scott and Jimmy eventually live) before basing with Scar in the desert. However, once he started building, Grian immediately disliked it, and called it the ugliest thing he’s ever built.

. Grian gives his flint and steel to Scar, which he uses to burn down Etho's dark oak tree.

. Grian hides two villagers, and originally wants to show them to Etho. However, Impulse, and Bdubs, follow, and the word gets out shortly after. *

. Scar and Grian were going to team up BEFORE Scar was killed. Scar first brings up having a monopoly on sand around the 12 minute mark.

. (not really notes but) Scar takes his shirt off for the first time at 15 minutes exactly. (i can’t believe im writing this smh)

. * Grian is invited to go back to the village after venturing to the sand biome with Scar, and trades his villagers. (he trades them for 3 diamonds, a dark oak sapling, a lava bucket, a juke box and disc, a bed, and some other lint)

. Grian explodes Scar at the 21:25 minute mark. There were 6 witnesses to his 'prank'. Impulse, Etho, Cleo, Bdubs, Tango, and Martyn. (my favorite thing about this is that Ren puts in the chat "Enchanting would have helped with that")

. Grian pledges his 1st life to Scar(didn't really forget that part, but i did forget that Grian loses his first life near the end of the series

. Pizza is first seen at the 25 minute mark exactly! (i think Pizza spawned in during a cut in Grian’s video. because i am only watching his pov, i do not know where Pizza originally cane from, this is the best estimate.)

. Grian abandons his first base in the flower forest at 26:15. This hole-in-the wall base didn’t last an episode.

. Grian and Scar originally wanted to have a monopoly over sand AND dark oak, and successfully chopped down the ‘only’ forest they saw. However, there was another not too far away from their base which ultimately ruined that monopoly. That being said, if the second dark oak forest had not been there, they might’ve had a chance at monopolizing dark oak saplings.

.💚💛❤️.

I will be doing more posts like this for all of the episodes of Grian’s pov. that being said, if i miss something that was said/a scene in a different pov, i will not include that in this post.

for now, i hope you’ve enjoyed this little forgotten-info post, and i encourage you to watch the series for yourself!

I remember watching 3rd life for the first time when the episodes were still coming out, and i’ve loved the series ever since. It was, and still is a comfort series i watch when going through tough times. I’ve met lots of people, and made lots of friends through this series, and although i don’t post a lot about it on my blog, i’m grateful to have found a community who feels the same.

thanks for reading!

.💚💛❤️.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM REDLETTERMEDIA *  assorted lines from their youtube videos, adjust as necessary

jimmy fallon? the only thing he should host is a parasite.

is he some kind of secret asshole?

well, that was a success.

i may have gone a bit too far in a few places.

i'm a top. clearly.

you can get stabbed with a medieval sword!

it would suck to have to replace me.

look at this fucking shit!

three terrible things happened to us.

that's probably because of your face.

if i had that shirt... i would be so ashamed.

there's a lot going wrong there.

i think it's pretty obvious that the one thing a guy wants is sex.

he said he wanted to make us suffer.

how can i make real friends?

i know. it's unfortunate, but this is the way it has to be.

it's a fucking circle!

they're doing their best.

push the whopper button.

don't show weakness!

i'm never going outside again.

that's the strangest thing anyone's ever said to me.

oh fuck, that was my tooth.

fuck my life.

it can never be undone.

how embarrassing.

we've had success on a level that's not been seen.

it's stylistically designed to be that way.

oh my god, i want to punch this movie.

how can i get naked real fast?

we don't know what the fuck this is.

you ever put your hand in a bucket of muck?

people watch movies on their fucking phones now.

it's cool to say you're a nerd, but it's still not cool to be a nerd.

oh my god, what's wrong with your face?

baby jesus is an asshole.

it's ironic, because i have no manners!

true evil never dies. it is only reborn.

i can finally find out what happened in my early childhood.

let's see what's going to kill us slowly.

the nunchucks are actually gun-chucks.

what did you think of benedict cabbagepatch?

oh yeah, i fucking love star wars.

everything's a knife.

i was just thinking about beating somebody's head in with the back end of a rifle.

where's my check?

this is not staged. i want to reiterate that.

i hope she falls down the stairs.

you ain't all that and a bag of potato chips.

i'm not surprised. it is very phallic.

take that, patriarchy!

what i'm saying is that you don't run to a toilet to fart.

that was funny... wasn't it?

was that gunshots?

are you ready to salvage this evening?

you get away from me! i'm tired of your shit!

what is the fuck?

it's like opening a wonka bar.

how many times have i said that before?

you know more about this model than i do.

that's pretty mean of you to say.

give us something. give us something!

it's like poetry. it rhymes.

he has a fucking medieval sword!

no one remembers what's on this shelf.

this shirt is fucking awesome and you can't handle it.

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

}{ The Canary in the Gold Mine }{ AO3 }{ next part }{

}{ Empires AU }{ elf Scott, canary Jimmy, and goblin Fwhip }{ content warning: imprisonment, suicidal thoughts }{

The problem with living life free as a bird was that sometimes a bird winds up caged.

Scott had found himself in lots of metaphorical cages over the years. Lost in ruins and temples with a few more turns than he expected, tied up in relationships that didn't last, caught between an alley wall and the anger of a misjudged mark, even a jail cell or two. Sticky situations were plentiful for a man with sticky fingers.

The problem with this particular cage was that it wasn't metaphorical.

The very real and very solid metal cage Scott found himself in now dangled over an open cavern at the edge of a goblin city deep underground. Scott didn't mind being underground for long periods of time – his crystalline magic meant he was just as comfortable in the depths of a cave as he was in an open field – but he very much minded not having a choice in the matter. It had been five days now since the elf had tried and failed to escape some old goblin ruins with a gold statuette in hand. He'd almost gotten away, but the blizzard that blew in while he was underground blocked off his exit and allowed his pursuers to catch up with him before he could find an alternate route.

Scott leaned against the bars and scowled in the direction of the buildings that lined the edge of the cavern. One of them contained his guard, a rude man who had taken great pleasure in throwing Scott into the cage and greater pleasure in rummaging through his confiscated belongings. He'd been stripped of everything he had on him except his pants and shirt. His bag, his jewelry, even his colorful coat and hat were gone. Scott's iridescent dagger now hung from the goblin's belt, and the contents of his coinpurse had no doubt been added to the guard's own.

"It took me weeks to get that just the way I wanted it," Scott muttered to himself, more upset about losing the dagger than the coins. Still, it wouldn't be that difficult to replace, having been made from crystals he produced himself. He'd hoped to make another one to pick the lock with, but he needed something solid, preferably a rock or mineral, to act as a core for his magic to crystallize around. For a cage hanging from the ceiling of a rocky cave, his prison was disappointingly clean of debris without even the most minuscule of pebbles to be found.

Scott put a hand over his growling stomach, hoping the guard would extend the mechanical bridge over to him soon to bring food and water. He'd been fed once on day three of his imprisonment, and hoped that didn't mean he had to wait until day six for his next meal. By now he was even kind of looking forward to the meager, questionable serving of pork he'd been reluctant to eat the last time.

After a few more hours of staring at the ceiling and contemplating all the ways he could escape the cavern if he could only get the door open, the creaking and groaning of pulleys and pistons caught Scott's attention. The bridge was in motion, and when it came to a stop just outside the bars of the cage, the guard crossed over to him and unlocked a smaller door near the bottom of the bars. He slid in a fresh bucket of water and a wooden plate with a single pork chop and a piece of bread, while another guard stood across the way and aimed a crossbow in case Scott tried to make a run for it. Scott tried not to show his eagerness in reaching for the food, only the slightest twitch of an ear betraying his interest.

"How long exactly do you plan on keeping me here?" he asked, managing to sound disdainful instead of desperate. The fact he was being given food and water at all meant, he hoped, that he wouldn't just be left in the cage to rot.

The guard shrugged. "Until the king has time to deal with you. And who knows when that'll be. He's a busy man." He gave Scott a nasty grin. "I wouldn't be so eager for your audience with King Fwhip if I were you. The punishment for theft is usually death."

"Seems a bit excessive for a single little statue," said Scott. The guard only smirked and returned to the guardhouse with his companion, retracting the bridge behind them.

Scott ate slowly, hoping to make his meager meal last. He set aside the bread for later, leaned his head back on the bars, and closed his eyes. He listened to the sounds of life coming from the city and the mines, full of goblins going about their business. Picks and hammers rang out, minecarts rattled, snorts and grunts filled the pig pens, and voices called back and forth in the marketplace. Occasional distant explosions sounded from somewhere deeper in the gold mines. Soft clicks and chirrups rose from the cave floor below his cage, evidence of the sculk that lined it. Once a shrieker called out, followed by distant nervous laughter after a beat of silence.

A brief flutter of wings cut through the soundscape, and Scott opened his eyes to see yellow. The brilliant feathers stood out against the darker, dimmer colors of the cave, and for a moment Scott thought he might have fallen asleep and dreamed the canary that perched on the door to the cage. The bird tilted its head, watching him quizzically, and didn't disappear when Scott blinked and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes.

"Hello there," he said softly. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a depressing place like this, huh?" The canary chirped, and he smiled to hear birdsong again. Scott looked at his bread, contemplating, then broke off a piece and tossed it toward the edge. The canary eyed the distance between Scott and the bread, then hopped down to the cage floor and pecked at it.

Scott fed the canary a few more crumbs, keeping his movements slow and some distance between them so as not to scare off the little bird. It didn't take long for the canary to hop closer, peering up at Scott. He smiled and offered another small chunk of bread, setting it next to him, and after eating the morsel the canary hopped onto Scott's knee and chirped up at him.

He kept his hands still, unwilling to risk losing the stray sunbeam that graced his cage just yet. "Pretty bird," he cooed softly at it. "What a beautiful little bird you are." The canary rustled his feathers and tweeted at him again, and Scott laughed. "I'm glad you decided to come say hi. I hope you aren't trapped down here like I am."

The canary sat with him and sang, and for a little while the bars of the cage felt far less confining. Eventually the bird jumped down from his knee and fluttered away. Scott watched it leave, both grateful for the temporary distraction and a little bitter that it was probably the last birdsong he would be hearing for a while.

Two days later the canary returned, and Scott's heart leaped when he rolled over under his single thin blanket to see the flash of yellow. He curbed his excitement in time to sit up slowly instead of suddenly, still not wanting to frighten the canary.

"Aw, my sunbeam came back," he said happily, and the canary chirped. "That or I've started hallucinating after a week here. I think it's been a week, anyway." Scott had been trying to use the ebb and flow of the noises from the city to keep track of the days, but with no sun and nothing to do but sleep, he was beginning to struggle with the count.

He scraped a softer piece from the inside of what was left of his now very stale bread and presented the offering. The canary accepted it, then fluttered up to Scott's shoulder and nudged its head against his cheek before settled into the crook of his neck.

"Oh!" Scott kept his exclamation soft. "Decided you like me, huh?" Carefully, slowly, he reached up a finger and stroked the canary's breast feathers. The bird chirped happily, rustling its wings and leaning into the touch. Scott knew the warmth he felt on the feathers was probably from proximity to some lava stream or factory vent, especially given the time of year, but he pet his little canary and pretended the feathers were sun-warmed instead.

He sat and talked to the bird, regaling it with stories of his adventures and misadventures. The canary made an excellent audience, occasionally tilting its head or chirping at key points of the tale. Scott knew it was probably only responding to changes in his tone, but he smiled and pretended the canary knew exactly what he was saying and was enjoying the story.

The canary was still there when the guard brought Scott's food and water, and the guard scowled when he saw it. "Shoo, little pest," he said roughly. The canary stayed where it was and tweeted indignantly. Scott bit back a smile, not wanting to anger his only source of sustenance, but was grateful the goblin made no move to drive away his bird.

As soon as the guard was gone Scott pulled a bite off the fresh bread and offered it to the canary. "You probably don't mind the old stuff, but this is much better I'm sure." The canary accepted the first bite from his fingers, but when Scott offered a second one it pushed its head against his wrist instead.

"You don't want it?" asked Scott. The bird peeped once and pushed against Scott again. "You want me to eat it?" There was a twitter that Scott took to mean yes, and he obediently ate some of the bread before switching to the pork. The canary seemed satisfied, hopping down to perch on Scott's leg while he ate.

Scott lost track of the days entirely somewhere around the three week mark. As the weeks stretched into months without even a hint to when there might be a change in his situation, the elf could feel the isolation wearing him down. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed in one place for any length of time unless there was something sufficiently interesting to keep his attention. The inside of a cage in a dark corner of a cavern was anything but interesting. Scott paced every step of the small cage hundreds of times over. He slept, shouted, begged, sulked, and repeated the process all over again.

He asked the guard over and over how much longer he would be imprisoned, but if the goblin answered him at all it was only to say "King Fwhip will get to you when he gets to you, thief," or some variation thereof. Eventually Scott stopped asking, his hope waning and his dislike for the unseen goblin king growing. It was only his canary's frequent visits that kept him from contemplating drowning himself in his water bucket or looping the blanket around his neck. Sometimes the bird showed up several days in a row and sometimes it was gone for what must have been five, six, seven days, but it always returned, and every time it rekindled the smallest spark of his dying hope.

It was one of the times the canary was gone for longer that Scott found himself alternating between staring at how thin his wrists had gotten and how much wider the gap between the bars seemed. He knew he didn't have the strength left to pull off the acrobatics required to even have a chance at making it across the chasm he dangled over, but the longer he was imprisoned the less he cared about falling onto dripstone or triggering a shrieker. Assuming he survived the drop in the first place, the roar of a warden seemed like a mercy compared to what he was certain by now was eternal imprisonment.

He was laying on the floor and trying to decide if his head would fit between the bars when the canary returned, landing in front of his face and chirping in greeting. Scott managed a smile but didn't lift his head. "Hi Sunbeam," he greeted in a hoarse voice. "Missed you."

The canary tilted its head and chirped again, and Scott imagined he could hear concern in the lovely notes. "Your bread's over there, if you want it. Sorry, I don't quite feel like sitting up today." He closed his eyes, and the canary sang out more concern before nestling under Scott's chin.

"Pretty bird," he mumbled. "You smell like fresh air again today. Like flowers. Is it spring? Or maybe even summer." He sighed, and the canary chirped quietly. "I miss flowers."

He didn't open his eyes when he heard the bridge extending over from the guardhouse, or when he heard the gate rattle with the latest delivery. What did get him to raise his heavy eyelids was angry chattering from his canary, and he sat up when the bird fluttered away from Scott and toward the guard as he tried to leave. It flapped around his face, seeming to scold him. The guard scowled, making a swipe at it, but the canary danced out of his reach and landed in Scott's hands with more scolding chirps.

"One of these days I'm going to catch you and have a nice canary stew," spat the guard as he walked away. Scott imagined whatever the canary trilled out next wasn't anything suited for polite company should it be translated, and he smiled and pulled the bird close to his chest.

"He's a nasty one, isn't he?" he murmured to the canary. "I'm glad he's not my only company down here." The canary settled further into his hands, peeping happily, and Scott pressed a gentle kiss to its feathered head.

The canary sat with him a little longer before wriggling out of his hold, and Scott felt a pang of disappointment at how soon the bird was leaving him. "Already?" He tried not to pout. It wasn't fair to make the canary stay in a cage any longer than it wanted to just to alleviate his own loneliness.

"Don't stay away so long this time, yeah?" He swallowed against the lump in his throat. "I don't know how much more of this I can…" He laughed bitterly. "Look at me, staking my sanity on a bird."

The canary gave a few chirps Scott imagined sounded sorrowful before it took off. He watched it fly up and out of sight, then sighed and lay down again to dream of warm sunlight and wildflowers waving in the breeze. He was dreaming of birdsong when he began to wake up again, and realized the melody was continuing even as he opened his eyes and felt cold iron under him instead of soft grass.

"Sunbeam?" He sat up, not feeling as if he had slept very long, and was delighted but confused at the canary returning twice in one day.

He spotted a glimpse of red against the bright yellow, and his breath caught. "Is that a poppy?" he breathed. The canary chirped around its beakful of flower stem and hopped down to him, dropping the poppy on his knee. Scott picked it up and gazed at it reverently, tracing a finger over the thin petals.

"Thank you," he whispered, and imagined the canary looked very pleased with itself. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Except for you, of course," he added, and the canary's chirping laughter filled the cage until there was no room left for loneliness.

Some of Scott's water ration went toward keeping the poppy fresh as long as he could, and as far as he was concerned it was water well-spent. As the days passed, though, even that couldn't keep the petals from crumbling. The day after he accepted the blossom was a lost cause, the canary brought him another one, and he smiled. When that faded the bird brought another one, and another, replacing each poppy regularly. Scott treasured each poppy almost as much as he treasured the canary's visits. With a poppy in his hair and the canary against his cheek as he spun more stories, he could almost pretend he was exactly where he wanted to be. Most days the canary's feathers were warm from the sun, making the name Scott bestowed up on it even more fitting.

The entire time he had been imprisoned Scott's meals had never been regular, but the bucket of water was enough to last for about three days and it was never longer than that until his next delivery. It had been a while since Scott had thrown a fit and screamed obscenities toward the guardhouse, so when the fourth day without a meal came and went, he couldn't think of a reason why. When his canary came to see him on the sixth day, it landed on the edge of the empty bucket and chirped questioningly.

"Dunno," mumbled Scott in response from where he lay curled up on his blanket. "Drank the last of it three days or so ago. Maybe that's how they've decided to finally get rid of me." He paused to lick his dry lips, but it gave him no real relief. "Guess I should be glad my magic is from thermal crystals instead of water. It'll kill me slower." He made a face at the thought. "Maybe 'glad' is the wrong word."

The sounds that erupted from the canary were angry and agitated, and Scott could have sworn he saw one of the small clawed feet stomp in frustration. He heard the mechanical bridge start moving, and as the guard approached he managed to scramble to his knees so he could reach for the fresh water bucket as soon as it was set down. Scott was so focused on restraining himself from chugging it all at once that it took a moment to register the canary was still chirping angrily as it fluttered around the guard's head.

"That's quite enough out of you – ouch!" The guard was trying to walk away, but the canary had tangled its talons in a tuft of hair and yanked as it pecked at his head. "Rotten thing!" The guard swiped at the canary and made contact, backhanding the little bird hard against a bar of the cage. The canary landed on the cage floor, and the guard walked away and retracted the bridge behind him.

"Sunbeam!" Scott crawled over to the canary and gathered it in his hands. To his relief the canary's chest still rose and fell, and after a moment that must have been brief but seemed to Scott to drag on, its eyes opened and it peeped at him a few times. "Oh, thank goodness," breathed Scott, cradling his canary close to his chest. "Are you hurt?" The canary chirped reassuringly, hopping to its feet and bumping its head against Scott's chin.

It sat with Scott a while longer, nestling happily in his hands and singing just as strongly as ever, and only moved to leave when Scott began yawning. "Come back soon," whispered Scott, kissing the canary's head before opening his hands. When the bird returned two days later, Scott's next meal had been delivered by a different guard, and the canary inspected the pork and bread closely before settling on Scott's shoulder with a satisfied chirp.

Scott laughed. "What, did you have something to do with this?" he teased. "Run this place, do you?" The canary twittered, and Scott smiled before sighing. "Be nice if you did. Maybe you could put a word in with this goblin king I've heard so much about." He rolled his eyes. "He's a bastard is what he is," he muttered into his bread. "'He'll get to you when he gets to you' they keep telling me. Worst imprisonment ever. Zero out of ten for accommodations and service both, would not recommend."

The canary's chirps sounded apologetic, and Scott stroked its breast with a finger. "Aw, it's not your fault, pretty bird. I know you don't really run the place. You can fly anywhere you want and yet you keep coming down here just to see me. I'm grateful for that."

The weeks continued to pass, and other than the new guard, nothing changed. His canary visited frequently, still bringing him a fresh poppy whenever the old one faded. Then a day came when the canary brought him an orange oak leaf instead of a poppy, and chirped at Scott apologetically when he accepted the offering. "It's still beautiful," said Scott, rolling the stem between his fingers and watching the leaf spin as he did so. He was grateful for the marker of time; it must be autumn on the surface now. "Did I tell you yet about the time I - "

An explosion from the mines interrupted him; it sounded like the usual controlled blasts he was used to hearing, but this time much closer, and the cage swayed a little. Scott looked up, wondering just how close to the dripstone cavern the miners planned to get. Another blast sounded, rattling the cage and shaking dust and debris loose from the ceiling. The canary chirped and chattered angrily, then took flight and darted away from the cage.

More dust settled over the cage at the next explosion, and as Scott put a hand on the cage floor to steady himself as it swayed, his fingers brushed against a pebble. It was the only one he could see; the top of the cage had angled most of the falling debris away, but one was enough. With his heart pounding with hope for the first time in months, Scott picked up the little rock and cupped it between his hands.

"Come on, take," he muttered, feeling the heat between his palms as he tried to gather enough magic to crystallize. When he peeked at the pebble and saw the iridescent sheen of a thin crystal coating around it, he almost cried with joy. He kept going, coaxing the budding crystals into a thin, elongated shape. He wouldn't be able to manage anything as substantial as a weapon, but all he needed was something he could use as a lockpick. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the heat of the crystal and the effort of forcing it to grow so quickly with so little strength, but with the possibility of freedom within his grasp, he kept pushing.

The canary returned just as Scott deemed the small crystal to be sufficient for what he needed it to do, landing on the cage bars as Scott reached through to feel for the lock. "Look, Sunbeam, I found a pebble to crystallize," said Scott eagerly in response to the canary's questioning chirp. He slid the pick into the lock and rotated it, feeling for the pins. "I don't know yet how I'll make it across, but I – ouch!"

He almost dropped the pick, staring at the canary in shock. The canary pecked at his hand again, harder this time, and trilled at him sharply. "Stop that," hissed Scott. He tried again to pick the lock, but the canary hopped onto his hand and dug its talons in, pecking repeatedly and fluttering its wings. Scott gave up and tried to pull his hand back inside the cage to try again later, but the canary grabbed the pick in its talons and yanked it away from him. It dropped it over the edge into the chasm, then landed back inside the cage and sang Scott a series of agitated chirps.

"That was my only chance to get out," said Scott in despair, staring in the direction the lockpick had fallen. "I don't have any way to make another one. I don't...I don't have the strength left to make another one, even if I had another core." He'd had a glimpse of a way out of the hell he'd found himself in, and now it was gone. He sat back against the bars and drew up his knees, vision blurring, and buried his head in his arms.

The canary chirped, its scolds turning to sorrow, and fluttered over to Scott's knee. "Go away," said Scott in a muffled voice. The canary nestled against his hair and chirped again. "I said go away!" Scott lifted his head and glared at the canary through his tears. "I don't want to see you right now!" The canary seemed to flinch away from his sharp tone. It warbled sadly and flew away, leaving Scott to cry out his frustration.

Several meals passed without the canary's return; the third was barely eaten, and the fourth went untouched. The bridge rattled with what must be the delivery of the fifth, but Scott remained where he lay with his eyes closed and ignored the sound of the gate opening in favor of going back to sleep. Or he tried to; it must have been the door, not the gate, because hands grabbed his arm and jerked him roughly to his feet.

"Up you get, thief," said his guard, and a second goblin snapped manacles around his wrist while he blinked sleep out of his eyes. "Time for your audience with the king, now that he's back."

"Back?" echoed Scott groggily. "He hasn't...even been here?" If he'd had a little more strength he might have found it in him to be angry about having never been given that particular bit of information, but as it was he just stumbled along when the two guards marched him out of the cage and across the bridge. There was a flash of yellow somewhere near the ceiling, and Scott almost cried to see it. He cupped his hands and held them out as best he could, and the canary dove down to nestle into his hold with a series of chirps and tweets.

"Hi Sunbeam," Scott choked out. "I'm sorry I yelled at you." He lifted his hands, the chains between his manacles jangling with the movement, and the canary pressed itself against his cheek. "Will you stay with me?" he whispered. "It will be nice to not be alone when I learn how I'm going to die. Not that you have to stay for that part," he added when the canary trilled sadly. "I wouldn't ask that of you."

The sounds he'd spent so many months listening to were so much louder as he was led into the city proper, and his ears twitched as he tried to hear everything at once. Curious goblins stared as they went by, but Scott couldn't bring himself to care for more than a passing second about how disheveled and dirty he must be. His guards led him into an ornate building and stopped in front of a grand throne, forcing Scott to his knees as they knelt themselves, and after bowing his head for a brief moment Scott looked up at the man who held his fate.

Despite the grandiosity of the room, the handsome king sprawled across the throne was modestly dressed in what Scott recognized as a typical goblin miner's garb. Only a slightly finer weave of the red and gold tunic belted over the outfit and a simple gold circlet gave any indication of his status. The jewelry that adorned his fingers and ears were no more than any other goblin seemed to wear, and the only unique accessory was a large yellow feather on a leather tie around his neck. The color was familiar, and if it weren't for the size Scott might have thought the feather came from the wings of the canary nestled quietly in his hands.

"We come to present the prisoner to your highness King Fwhip," said his guard. "The charge is theft. He was captured this past winter in the western ruins, in possession of a statue of one of the Old Ones, found to have been taken from an altar in that place."

"Do you deny these charges, elf?" asked the king, staring at him with an unreadable look. Before Scott could answer, the king spotted the canary and sat up straight, raising an eyebrow. "Now that's an interesting friend you have there."

Remembering the previous guard's rough treatment of his little bird, Scott clutched the canary closer to his chest as fear flooded through him. "Don't hurt him," he pleaded. "Please don't hurt him. I'll accept whatever punishment you see fit, just please - "

King Fwhip laughed, and laughed hard. Scott was too exhausted and fearful to be able to tell if the sound held any malice or cruelty in it, and could only hope the canary would be able to fly away if the king ordered for it to be killed as retribution for a prisoner keeping a pet. The canary peeked out of Scott's hands and chirped in a tone reminiscent of its past scoldings but softer.

The king's chuckles died down, and he wiped a tear from his eye before holding out a hand. Scott stared as his canary slipped out of his hands and perched on the king's finger. "Hello there, my little gold nugget," crooned the king as the canary pressed against his cheek. "So this is why you didn't come say hi when I got back." He pressed a gentle kiss to the bird's head. "'Don't hurt him,' he says! As if I could even dream of hurting my greatest treasure."

"What?" said Scott in disbelief as the canary chirped happily at the king. Then in a blink, the canary changed forms. What Scott had taken for a very pretty bird, it turned out, was actually a very pretty man with golden hair, golden wings, and kind brown eyes. He sat perched in Fwhip's lap with an arm around the king's neck and gave Scott an apologetic glance. "...What."

The king settled back in his seat with an arm around the canary's waist and appraised Scott with an amused smirk. "Back to business. Do you deny the charge of theft that's been presented against you?"

Scott stared, taken aback by the revelation that his canary was neither a typical canary nor his, and couldn't find the wit or charm that had saved his skin on more than one occasion in the past. "No," he said simply. "I don't deny the charge."

"Then, as you don't deny that you stole the statue you were found in possession of - "

"A statue that we didn't even know existed and was recovered when he was captured," interrupted the canary, and grinned sheepishly when Fwhip gave him a sharp look.

" - as you don't deny the charges," continued the king, "you are hereby found guilty of theft of a sacred artifact from goblin lands. Now, your punishment." He pretended to ignore the pleading look the canary was giving him. "Is it true the statue was recovered?"

"Yes, your highness," said one of the guards. "It was taken from the elf upon his capture and has been stored safely in the royal vault."

"Good, good," said Fwhip. "Did he make any attempt to escape while he was imprisoned?"

"None, your highness," said the guard. Scott breathed in sharply and glanced at the canary, who was trying very hard to look as innocent as possible.

Fwhip's tail curled thoughtfully. "Well then! We take theft very, very seriously here. But the object was recovered, it's only your first offense in Gobland, you readily admitted to your crime, and you behaved yourself while imprisoned – and more importantly, going by the hole that's currently being stared into the side of my head, my Jimmy has taken a liking to you." He put a hand against the canary's face and pushed him back lightly, getting a grumble in return.

"I sentence you to five years imprisonment," continued Fwhip. "Minus the time already spent in the cage, you'll spend the rest of it as a worker in the gold mines. You'll be given three - " Jimmy whined at him, and he rolled his eyes. " - four days to rest and recover in your new quarters before you begin work."

Scott's head swam as he tried to process the goblin king's verdict. He had entered the throne room expecting death, or worse, to be thrown back into the damned cage. Five years was no small length of time, but he would take five years of hard work over even five weeks of endless confinement and boredom.

His – no, Jimmy – didn't seem quite as pleased with Scott's punishment as Scott was. "Aw, Fwhip," he pleaded, tilting his head and giving the king a wide-eyed look and a soft pout, "he's been down here since before the solstice! Can't he work the fields with me instead?"

"Absolutely not," said Fwhip. "If he's on the surface he'll just make a run for it the first chance he gets. And you'll let him, you big softy." He tapped Jimmy's nose, and his words were stern but the look in his eyes was fond. "There's a reason you're in charge of my farmers and not my guards."

"Rude," grumbled Jimmy, but he was almost smiling. "I would make an excellent lawman, thank you very much."

"Sure you would," said Fwhip sarcastically. Scott could have gagged at the soft look the two of them gave one another, and might have done if he hadn't been busy appreciating how well love enhanced both Fwhip's and Jimmy's already good-looking features. Fwhip gestured for Scott to be taken away, and as the guards obeyed, Jimmy pressed a kiss to Fwhip's cheek before following as Scott was taken to wherever he would be staying.

The guards led him into a room inside a barracks and unlocked his manacles, with firm instructions to remain there until someone came to collect him in a few days to begin his work. Jimmy remained in the room with him even as a key turned in the lock as the guards left, and if Scott hadn't already seen the window he might have been more concerned about that. It was small and barred, but there was enough room for a small bird to fly through easily.

"I hope you aren't angry that I didn't say anything," said Jimmy, and Scott turned from his examination of the room – not much larger than the cage, really, but there was a bed and a dresser and a chair – to see the canary wringing his hands anxiously. "It's just that, well, the last time I showed myself to a prisoner they just got angry that I wouldn't steal the keys and let them out or anything like that."

"You were pretty adamant about not letting me pick the lock," said Scott. "Was it because you knew it would make my sentence worse?" He sat on the edge of the bed; he knew he had surely been on more comfortable surfaces than the thin straw-stuffed mattress, but after almost a year on an iron floor, it was the softest thing he had ever felt.

"I mean, sort of." Jimmy sat on the wooden chair, running fingers through his hair. "That and I could see how weak you were. I didn't want you to fall to your death or anything. But also…" His wings rustled and he tilted his head. "I mean, I like you, I really do. But you're still a prisoner, and even though I'm not a goblin, as long as I live in Gobland then Fwhip is still my king, you know?" He shrugged. "And more importantly, he's my...my partner."

The ends of Jimmy's ears were red, and Scott wondered if the relationship was new or if the canary simply had a modest nature. "How long have you two been together?" he asked.

"Oh, gosh." Jimmy scratched the back of his head. "I can't even remember. Must be six, seven harvests at least." Modest, then. Scott bit back a smirk and the urge to tease him; he never was able to resist a man who blushed easily.

Jimmy stood and stepped toward the window before turning back to Scott. "I'll let you get some rest. They should be bringing you some food soon, and starting tomorrow it'll be twice a day. If not, let me know and I'll take care of it." He grinned, and Scott smiled back. "We're pretty busy on the surface this time of year so I don't know how often I can come see you for a while, but I'll check on you when I can."

Scott nodded. "Thank you," he said, and his throat felt thick. "For...for everything. You didn't have any reason to, but you saved my life."

Jimmy smiled. "I got curious, and you turned out to be a good person," he said. "And you tell good stories. Besides, I doubt Fwhip would have actually had you killed over a single statue. He's too good of a man for that."

Scott shook his head. "I don't mean just the sentencing," he said softly. "Being locked up like that, with little idea how long it had been and no idea how much longer it would be?" He shuddered. "Even with your visits I almost did something stupid more than once. Without them…"

A sorrowful chirp from Jimmy's throat startled him, and he smiled at the embarrassed look on the canary's face. "Can I...is it okay if I hug you?" asked Jimmy.

Scott blinked. "I – sure?" He gave Jimmy a sly look. "If it won't get me killed, anyway. Pretty sure fooling around with a king's lover is a faster ticket to the gallows than any theft," he teased.

As he'd predicted, Jimmy turned red, and Scott laughed. "It's just a hug!" exclaimed Jimmy. "You...oh, you're going to be an absolute menace, aren't you?"

"I certainly try," said Scott cheerily.

Jimmy wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, and if he'd been a little less exhausted from everything Scott might have been embarrassed at how easily the simple touch brought tears to his eyes. He returned the hug and relaxed into Jimmy's hold when Jimmy folded his wings around them both. He didn't even realize he'd closed his eyes until Jimmy shifted and startled him out of the light doze he'd fallen into.

"Get some sleep," said Jimmy gently. He stepped away from Scott, changed back into a bird, and flew out of the small window. Scott stretched out on the straw mattress and fell asleep. When a knock on the door and the smell of stew roused him, a pressed poppy lay on the windowsill, and he smiled. Five years was a long time to spend working a gold mine, but he had a feeling the time was going to fly by.

}{ next part }{

[eluminium]

SKIZZ WEEK 5!!! THE GRIND CONTINIUES!!!

How the fuck did this one GET SO LONG????? AND HOW DID I FINISH IT IN TIME??? IT'S A MIRACLE!!!! I probably won't be able to finish day 6 on time due to LIFE STUFF but TRUST ME I AM GOING TO GET THE DAYS I MISSED DONE.

As always: @skizzlemanweek is the goat for giving us all these prompts!

Prompt 5: Stars/Hearts

-

A serene desert night. Something surprisingly rare, but more common in solo worlds. The hostile mobs keep away while the passive and neutral have long since fallen asleep. Out in the endless dunes, nothing moves. A true quiet.

That quiet swiftly comes to an end when a man with tussled black and grey hair crawls out of his tent. A simple t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts cover his scarred body, very unlike his usual outfit of choice. In his grip is a ridiculously large bath towel and a thicker blanket as well as a lantern. His feet are bare of any dress, and he relishes the feeling of sand brushing against them. What he likes less is the sudden chill graciously given to him by the desert’s nightly winds. He quickly ties the blanket around him like a cape. 

“Brrrr! I’m freezing my butt off! Kevin! Come out here!” He calls into the night. The previously still as a coffin tent bursts into activity as a “Woof!” erupts out of it. A medium-sized reddish-brown dog leaps out and bounces over to the man’s side. His tail wags like a metronome on steroids.  

The man's hearty laugh soars over the desert dunes as he leans down to give his dog some TLC. “Who’s my big puppy? Who’s my favorite in the whole wide world? Who’s my Kevin Bubbles Malone Jimmy Madeye Dugan? Yes, you are! You are!” He coos as Kevin rolls around and coats his fur in sand. When the man stands back up, Kevin copies him. The dog takes a few steps before-

“No, boy, don’t!” He borderline begs, but it’s too late. Sand goes flying everywhere as Kevin rids himself of the coarse and itchy feeling. 

“Augh! Bubbles! Bad dog! Now I got sand in my jibblets!” He pouts while trying to brush said sand off. Kevin tilts his head but otherwise continues to pant at him. 

He sighs with frustration and fondness as he walks away from the tent. "I can't be mad at you for long, it's not fair" He grumbles as Kevin walks attentively by his side, sniffing the air in search of any stray mobs who would dare to show their faces. But the desert is still quiet. Only the steps of the man and his dog as well as the lonely winds echo through the landscape. They keep walking with a clear goal in mind, each step intentional.

Until the man spots his destination in the distance. A giant vaguely circular glass donut-looking thing. The moonlight reflects beautifully off its slightly wonky surface, casting the area around it in an ethereal glow. With a cheer the man breaks out into a run, his loyal Kevin right behind him barking up a storm.

"Here it is, Kevin! Our overnight home!" He explains excitedly while throwing the giant towel over his shoulder so he can summon a silk touch pickaxe from his inventory. With it, he breaks just a few blocks of glass and steps inside. Kevin jumps in after with no hesitation. With everyone accounted for, the hole disappears as he refiles it. He wastes no time getting to work by spreading the massive towel over the sand. It's big enough to take up most of the ground inside the glass donut. After that, he places down a few other supplies before he unties his blanket cape.

"Sleeping under the desert stars on a clear night has been a bucket list item for a while, dude. I can't believe I'm finally doing this!" He says as he lays down on the towel. However, a cringe crosses his face when he feels the packed sand against his back. "Ouch! I thought it would be softer!" He exclaims. His solution is to wiggle his body around and create an imprint of his body into the sand. It's better...but not by much. It's good enough for now though, and he calls over Kevin who happily snuggles up to him.

With no more distractions, the man turns his eyes to the sky. And what a sight it is. A massive tapestry of light and color upon an ink-black background greets him. Hundreds if not thousands of stars scattered across the sky in an undescribable dance. The moon, ever the overachiever, shines bright and full. The spectacle of the scene before him fills every bit of his body with childlike wonder. He almost feels out of breath, and he's just lying there!

"Woah..." He mumbles.

With a clumsy hand, he points toward six stars located near each other. "See that Kevin? That's the Pickaxe." His hand then moves towards seven new stars. "And that's the Universal Bell." For a last time, he points to a cluster. "And that's the Head of the Great Dragon."

Suddenly, a distant feeling of fear hits him. His hand falls back down to Earth, and a frown decorates his face. "We really are miniscule, huh Kevin? We're tiny, insignificant little ants in the face of the Universe. Isn't that crazy?" Maybe he's the crazy one for talking to his dog alone in the desert. Kevin, for his part, continues to snore.

"Nothing we do matters on that scale. We can create a million solo worlds, yet it won't even make a blip on the radar!" He continues, the slight fear building strength in his chest.

"It's so vast. Borderline infinite. And I'm just one player out of millions...Maybe one of them is looking up right now, thinking the same thing. Mathematically that's gotta be the case. A million's a big number, and there's probably even more than that..." This ramble has to stop if he wants to keep that existential crisis at bay. Because at this rate he's on the minecart heading to the stress station!

He sighs and refocuses his eyes on the sky. It glows back at him just as before.

"Maybe we gotta focus less on what we can influence in the big picture and more on what we can influence in the small picture." He says, trying to inject some optimism into his tone. "Maybe the only impact we really need to make is the impact on those around us. Friends, family, other loved ones..."

He looks down at his beloved canine companion sleeping next to him. A smile creeps up on his face. Even just looking at Kevin's peaceful mug makes a happiness bubble in him. He giggles to himself. "I guess you're doing great on that front, Bubbles," He pets Kevin's head carefully to not wake him up. Afterward, he looks back up in the sky. 

"I could talk to my brothers more. Maybe invite Dop, Top, and Bop to do some silly challenges together. Or I could hit up Logic and get him to show me his newest duds. Maybe Pearlie Pop can help me build something for the fun!" Yeah! Yeah, that would be delightful! That would be great!

...Except that all of them are parts of servers he has no access to. And are also very busy. Well, that takes the wind out of his sails.

"Man, this sucks!" He pouts, trying to drown the genuine pang of loneliness with overdramatic sulking. But there's no one around to find it funny. His palm falls to his face.

"Dang it, Skizz!" Now he's just back in the sad. He shakes his head, this is not a productive mindset to have while alone in the desert under the infinite sky!

"You know what? They'll invite me to Hermitcraft next season. Then I'll have all the time in the world to hang out with my buddies!" He claims dramatically to bullshit his way out of this.

Then he stops.

Impulse is being cagey lately...Gem accidentally referred to him as a Hermit...Tango seems uncharacteristically excited about season 10...

Could it be?

A part of his mind screeches on instinct. Of course not! This hasn't been the first time he thought he was gonna get invited! And him? Hermitcraft? Yeah, sure. Like that would ever happen!

But, perhaps just this once, the other parts of his mind beat back those thoughts, and he gets to indulge in the possibility. Him on Hermicraft. With his friends. His brothers. And so many new people to get to know. A happy smile settles on his face at the thought. Wouldn't that be something? To have a proper home server again? Be able to look at the sky with those he loves the most. 

With that scenario in his mind, the starry sky above him doesn't look nearly as beautifully intimidating. Because if he's with his friends, he's in the right place. His place.

Eager to quit while he's ahead and to prevent those doubting thoughts from making a comeback, he summons the final pieces of his glass donut stargazing sleep place thing. Some glass, and a pillow. The glass is quickly used to cover the ceiling so no spiders or sandstorms could ruin his nap. The pillow lands where the indent of his head is under the sand. Somehow, Kevin doesn't stir, still sleeping away peacefully. The man, now very tired, lays back down on his towel and cozied up in the thick blanket. He gives a quick kiss to his dog's head, mumbles a "good night" and passes out on the spot.

But before he sinks into the sweet comfy unconsciousness, a vague memory, almost a dream, comes to him. It's a fragment of something players can never fully remember, but they hold it dear all the same.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

[endless-summer-soldier]

you see me - bonus chapter

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: Bucky has grown used to a life of solitude after a mysterious accident leaves him forgettable. every person he comes in contact has no memory of him the moment he walks away. until he meets a cute girl at a record store who actual remembers him.

a/n: I had to write a little something in memory of my guy Jimmy Buffett <3. just a little fluff between two of our favorites during a tough time.

taglist: @sebsgirl71479

word count: 1.2k

series playlist

series masterlist

X

“Good morning love,” Bucky said as Y/N walked into the kitchen. He studied her face and immediately identified the look of distress. “What’s the matter?”

She looked at him with a devastated expression, “Jimmy Buffett died.”

“Oh baby,” he walked toward her, enveloping her in his strong arms, “I’m so sorry.”

“I just…I don’t know how to feel right now.” The death was unexpected. Jimmy Buffett was one of the artists she loved because of her dad. She had fond memories of them listening to Buffett during long car rides and holiday weekend cookouts. And while Bucky knew this about Y/N, he didn’t know how to comfort her best. These memories were deeply personal, it was almost as if she was losing her father all over again.

“Today is your day. We can do whatever you want,” Bucky said.

“I think we need…margaritas.”

“Right now?” he asked, preparing to pour a large mug of coffee for his wife.

She gave him a soft smile, “Coffee first, but then I think we should go somewhere. With margaritas and TouchTunes.” He chuckled to himself, thinking about how much money his wife had already invested into TouchTunes.

“Whatever you want my dear.”

They enjoyed their breakfast together and then prepared to celebrate the late island rock god. Y/N wore a bright Caribbean blue dress and picked out a Hawaiian shirt for Bucky. It wasn’t his style in the slightest, but this wasn’t the day to protest. He would do anything she asked of him.

They walked hand in hand into the nearby tiki bar situated along the Chicago river. As Y/N expected, it was crowded for two on a Saturday. The place was filled with hawaiian shirts and bucket hats as parrot heads gathered to pour one out for Jimmy. Bucky navigated the bar to get them some drinks as Y/N secured a high top. She looked out onto the river, watching as tourists explored the city on such a beautiful day. Bucky returned and placed a chartreuse beverage in front of her. She smiled at him as they clinked the plastic cups together and took their first sips. Y/N downed close to half the margarita, despite the fake lime taste.

“Maybe I should’ve opted for the party bucket,” Bucky teased.

She shook her head, “Honestly, I don’t think I can drink more than one of these.”

“One honorary margarita for Jimmy, then we can switch to something more palatable.”

“Deal,” she agreed. They sipped the citrus concoction as fellow Buffett fans approached their table and shared some of their favorite memories. The Margaritaville radio continued to play, as fans sang along to their favorite tunes. Frozen margaritas and tropical drinks spilled over the plastic cups and patrons danced and swung their arms around each other. As beautiful as the tribute was, it all became a bit much for Y/N and Bucky spotted her discomfort immediately.

“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand over hers. 

“Yeah, just a lot happening.”

“Let’s finish this round and go somewhere else,” he suggested. 

 With that, she chugged the remainder of her drink and Bucky followed her lead. 

They left the tiki bar without a destination in mind. Until Bucky took her hand and led her toward the corner store. Once inside Bucky grabbed a six pack of Landshark while Y/N found a family size bag of lightly salted potato chips. As they met back up at the register, Bucky slid a bag of peanut M&M’s across the counter with the rest of their order. Y/N eyed him and he explained, “You’ll want those later.” She grinned at him, knowing he was right.

They took their bag of goods and Bucky collected her hand in his, leading the way.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked once she realized they weren’t heading home.

“I have an idea,” Bucky stated, continuing his trek. Y/N knew better than to question him. When he set his mind to something, there was no sense in arguing. They continued walking, past the bars and restaurants, past the hordes of tourists, towards the water. And as they approached the shore of Lake Michigan, Y/N smiled. Bucky found a quiet spot for them to sit in the sand. The morning beach crowd was floundering as families packed up their camp to head back to the suburbs and the twenty-year-olds had passed out from overconsumption.

“This is perfect,” she smiled at him. He cracked open a beer and handed it to her. She took a long sip and looked out on the lake.

“I didn’t expect to feel this sad.”

“No?” Bucky asked, hoping she would continue.

“With my dad, at least I knew it was coming. He was sick for a while and we knew we didn’t have much time. But Buffett…I mean I thought I’d get to see him live again. I wanted to bring you! And now he’s just…gone.”

Bucky didn’t have words, and he knew she didn’t need them. Instead he ran his hand up and down her back.

“I just…he was one of the few connections I still had with my dad. And now he’s gone.” She started to tear up and Bucky pulled her in closer to him.

“Just because he’s gone doesn't mean your connection with your dad disappeared. Buffett’s legacy will live on through his music. All you have to do is put on one of his songs and it’ll bring you back to the simpler times you had with your dad. It’s sad that he’s gone now, but that won’t change the memories you have of your father.” 

“You’re right, I know I’m being silly.”

“You aren’t being silly. Grief impacts us all differently. But the only thing we can do is move forward.”

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. She raised her beer bottle and leaned it in towards his.

“Here’s to Jimmy. I hope he’s up there eating that cheeseburger in paradise,” she smiled.

Bucky chuckled and clinked his bottle with hers. They sipped and Y/N started playing some of his music on her phone. The two of them sat drinking beers, sharing laughs, and looking out on the water. 

Once the six pack was finished, Y/N turned toward Bucky and asked, “You want to do something crazy?”

“I don’t know, do I?” he replied with skepticism.

“Come on,” she stood up and ran towards the lake, shedding her dress as she ran. Bucky darted after her, stripping down to his boxers. Y/N ran into the lake first, squealing as the cold water caressed her legs. Bucky wasn’t far behind and scooped her into his arms, momentarily protecting her from the icy chill. He trudged further into the water as she clung to him. Once the water was up to Bucky’s waist he counted to three and dropped down, dunking both of them into the waves. They both emerged from the water with smiles on their faces. He tucked a piece of wet hair behind her ear and ran his thumb up and down her jaw. She stood on her tiptoes and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. Then she took his hand and pulled him further into the water. They splashed and teased one another before Bucky pulled her close again and they floated in each other's arms.

“Thank you,” she finally said to him.

“For what?”

“For turning this day into one I will always remember with fondness.”

[basil-the-bulbasaur]

To no one's surprise, I have not finished the first part of the Hadestown AU, so here's team rancher designs.

[ID: Drawing of Jimmy holding a wooden bucket, his expression looks shocked. His clothes are reminiscent of ancient Greek clothing: white fabric covering his shoulder and torso, tied with a blue sash. He is wearing more modern pants, a blue neckerchief, brown gloves, and yellow tinted googles on his head. He has bird feet, clipped yellow bird wings, and the silly little feathered ears. To the right of Jimmy there are sketches of bird feet. End ID]

[ID: Drawing of Jimmy and Tango sitting on the ground hugging, Jimmy facing away from the viewer. Tango's head is buried in Jimmy's shoulder and his legs are wrapped around his waist. Jimmy's outfit is the same as in the previous image although the different angle shows that the white fabric wraps around his neck without covering the rest of his back, leaving room for his now slightly charred wings. Tango is wearing black pants and red boots. He is wearing a black chlamys (cloak) over his red shirt rather than a vest. He has red tinted googles on his head and red fingerless gloves on his burnt hands. In one hand he is holding a goat horn, although the view is mostly covered by Jimmy's wings. In the background is a messy graphite sketch of the burnt ranch. End ID]

[ID: A drawing of Tango standing with one hand outstretched as if reaching for something. He is drawn as a pointy humanoid packrat. His outfit is much the same except without the googles or boots. His shirt is longer and more chiton (tunic) like, it is cinched under the breast with a black belt. In this drawing his chlamys is pinned by a half-red, half-black heart shaped brooch. His hands are burnt, as well as part of his snout, on Tango's left arm the burn scars go far enough up his arm to be visible past the glove. Sculk has started growing on his feet and tail. The end of his tail is yellow-orange and vaguely oak-leaf-shaped. Around Tango are a variety of graphite sketches and notes written in cursive. To his lower right it says, "Accidentally drew him way too tall, whoops". Above him is a note that says, "Goats: stag beetles". To the left of his head is a sketch of the warden, and below him there are two sketches of the warden labeled, "Mole warden?" To the right of his head is a sketch of a kukri knife. End ID]

They will be drawn as rats, because I'm me, and I already have rat designs for nearly every life series character, but very few human designs. But I started making designs specifically for this AU during the 1 week since March that I drew humans, so you get human (kinda) drawings.

The first 2 drawings are yellow-life ranchers. I don't know why I did that; they aren't going to be yellow at any point in this comic. But the third is red life tango.

The first part is going to be 6 pages and they've already been sketched out, so hopefully I can get it out soon (although my friend/beta reader/person-who-listens-to-all-my-rantings keeps telling me to "not overwork myself." sighs/(light hearted)).

[elijahtheghostof]

Fanfic! Ghost X Toast. Jimmy Casket. Hurt/comfort, angst with a bit of fluff. Flashbacks to childhood, head canons

Johnny Ghost’s head was spinning, his vision blurry…He was in a windowless room. He was underground…it was a basement, *his* basement. Toast was squatting down in front of him, looking glum and concerned.

Oh no…Ghost instantly didn’t like that look on his face. This couldn’t be, not…again…

“J-Johnny?” He asked, finding his voice hoarse and raspy. He tried to stand up, only to be stopped short by a metal chain being pulled taut. Soon Ghost realized that his wrists were cuffed together, affixed to a chain on the wall that gave him little room to move. His ankles chained to the ground.

He felt…sticky, uncomfortably sticky, like he had poured juice all over himself and allowed it to dry. Why was he so sticky? He knew why he was sticky…he was coated in blood...“Johnny,” It was then that the tears began, hot and burning and rolling down his cheeks, “please tell me it didn’t happen again…”

Toast looked at him with a strange mixture of sorrow, affection, and pity. He warily brought his hand to Ghost’s cheek, stroked it. It would have felt nice, if it wasn’t for what he saw on Toast’s hand when he retracted it. Ghost’s eyes widened in horror. Blood…he had gotten blood all over Toast’s fingertips.

He was coated in blood.

Toast let out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid so, sir, I’m afraid so…” And to try and stop Ghost from crying, Toast locked their lips in the softest of kisses. Once he pulled away, they too were covered in blood. He looked like he was trying his best not to spit it out…

“I’m going to wash you off sir, ok?” He spoke softly, like he was talking to a wounded animal, walking on eggshells.

Toast had a bucket of warm, soapy water, as well as a sponge. He looked like he was trying not to cringe as he peeled away the blood drenched clothing that clung onto Ghost’s body. As he removed each article, first Ghost’s hoodie and shirt, and then his pants and underthings, he placed them in a zip lock baggie that he would later burn.

Ghost sat there, naked in his chains with his head down, desolate and crying.

The proudly proclaimed paranormal investigator extraordinaire looked so small at that moment. And as Toast gave him a sponge bath, Ghost just cried. Toast gently lifted his poor lover’s arm, and rubbed the sponge along it. There was a drain on the floor beneath them, the two of them were well prepared for this.

Ghost tried not to look at it…the water that was now tinted red. It was in the streams of water circling the drain…it was in the bucket.

He looked to the floor, brown fringe covering his face. “Why…Toast?” He asked between the crying, his voice nothing but a whisper.

“What is it, sir?” Toast asked in his thick British accent.

“Why do you protect me? Why don’t you just turn me in? I’m just like one of those *freaks* that we hunt down, I’m no better than them! I—I hurt people! I don’t mean to, I don’t wanna, but I hurt people…”

“Because I love you, Johnny.” Toast replied seriously. “You’re not the one doing all of this...”

Ghost seemed to go quiet…and soon enough Toast noticed that even his crying had stopped.

Then, something incredibly jarring happened.

“Aww! that was *real* sentimental, Toasty!! “HAHAHA! Stab stab stab! Hey…do you wanna know my secret? I killed that girl, Toasty, and you’re next!” Jimmy Casket pulled as hard as he could against his bindings, there came a sickening clank as the metal was forcibly pulled taut. He was like a wild animal that wouldn’t be caged.

Toast backed away, a disgusted look on his face, and disengaged with the creature known as Jimmy Casket.

“What’s the matter, Toasty? Don’t you wanna know my secret?! HAHAHA!! Come closer…and I’ll tell you—My mother was a man!” He suddenly shouted. “Hey!” He exclaimed, “Why would you say that about my mama?!” He pouted like a child before erupting into laughter once more. Drool ran down his chin.

Toast pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t good…Johnny shifting like this. He should have had Ghost in safer containment. He didn’t want Jimmy to escape, hurt, or even *kill* someone else, hurt Ghost, or get him taken away by the police…Unfortunately, by ‘better containment’ he meant the large dog crate kept in the basement for such events.

“You’re not getting away from me this time, Batman!!…I'm gonna put ya, in a casket, because my name, is Jimmy Casket, HAHAHA!”

All Toast could do was helplessly watch the madman ramble, and hope that his lover returned to him soon.

And as he looked at Ghost, he thought about the little boy he had met all of those years ago. He had just arrived in America to study overseas. He had given his nannies the slip so he could go outside and ‘investigate.’

At the end of the street filled with polished, well maintained mansions, he found a large and dilapidated house. It looked completely abandoned, and exactly where Toast wanted to continue his investigations.

Compared to his ghost hunting life in the future, the house ended up being nothing out of the ordinary. A few cobwebs here and there, broken and abandoned furniture. Looking back, the house was likely not even haunted at all.

However, there was one thing that stood out. When Toast saw him for the first time, he gasped, “Ghost!!” He dropped his torch, but then quickly scrambled to the ground to pick it up.

Standing in front of him, was a horribly filthy, scruffy boy a little younger than he was. He looked like he hadn’t seen a bath or a good meal in ages! And to top it off he had a black eye. His hair was brown and matted, it matched his eyes. He wore nothing but a hole ridden, illfited shirt that went down well past his knees, it looked like it belonged to an adult. Toast, meanwhile, was in stark contrast to the boy. At the age of only eight, his jet black hair was well maintained, slick back with gel. He wore a fine black waistcoat that was perfectly tailored to him, as well as dress pants and nice loafers. The filthy boy in front of him wasn’t even wearing shoes…

After squinting his eyes to the harsh ray light from the flashlight, the boy spoke. “Umm, Yes!” Suddenly, he seemed confident and excited. “My name is Ghost! Johnny Ghost! Who are you?”

He stammered for a name, not wanting to reveal himself as the grandson of the Queen of England, and by extension, the prince. “And I’m Johnny…Johnny—Toast…” He trailed off, pursed his lips together. His cheeks flushed a bright pink. There was no way Ghost was going to believe him. It was the first thing that had come to his mind, it had rhymed with ghost…

“That’s a cool name!!” Ghost replied naively.

‘Toast’ was surprised. But then, he grew confident and said, “Yes! Johnny Toast at your service.” He took a playful bow.

And of course, neither of them knew it at that time, that both of their ridiculous, absurd names were fake. But, they stuck.

Toast looked behind Ghost curiously, stared at an odd pile of boxes. “What’s that in the corner?” Toast asked.

“Oh! That’s Cardboard Friend, we used to be best friends, but now he sorta scares me…” He seemed to grow unhappy. But it only lasted so long, as the boy’s eagerness quickly returned to him when his filthy hand reached out to grab Toast’s arm:

“I wanna go ghost hunting!” He exclaimed confidently.

“You want to go ghost hunting?” Toast asked the scruffy boy, bemused.

Ghost was practically skipping circles around him.

“Yes! And I want to lead this team!” He held his dirty chin up high.

“Ok,” Toast laughed, “‘sir’” he had really only said it as a joke. But that too seemed to stick around.

The two young boys searched for ghosts for hours, played. When something was two high up for either of them to properly investigate, Toast let the filthy six year old boy climb onto his shoulders.

Eventually, Toast got hungry, and Ghost graciously offered him some food from the nearby dumpster. Apparently, that was where Ghost ate…

Toast smiled at the kind offer, but declined, proposing that they should go and get food at his house instead.

When he had brought Ghost home, his nannies acted as if he had brought home a three legged dog he had found in an alleyway. They were not pleased, but eventually, and with enough pestering, agreed to let Ghost stay, for now…

The nannies wanted Ghost to take a bath, *immediately but Ghost didn’t seem to share their sentiment. He argued it indignantly. Toast couldn’t understand why, the boy was filthy! Toast offered to take a bath with him, but one of the nannies had scolded him for it, “Johnathan Windsor! You are on no account getting into that filthy water!”

After being cleaned and fed, it was time for bed. The nannies had set Ghost up on the floor next to Toast’s bed. However, once the nannies had left and turned off the lights, Toast reached down, and grasped Ghost’s arm. He pulled Ghost up onto the bed with him, causing the strange boy to laugh as Toast wrapped his arms around him. Ghost curled his cold body up into Toast’s warm chest, and Toast rested his chin on the boy’s head. Their fingers interlocked. He remembered the sound of Ghost breathing. He had had more fun with the strange boy that day than he ever had in his entire stuffy, royal life. Toast suddenly felt this responsibility to take care of the scruffy boy, to protect him…

There was an investigation, but days turned into weeks, and Ghost’s parents were never found. Ghost wasn’t even identified as a pre-existing person, on *any* database in *any* country. And Toast’s family had the resources to be sure of that. The house that he had found Ghost in had been abandoned for nearly a decade. It had belonged to one ‘Officer Timothy Casket’. But he had been dead for just as long.

“Mummy, please!” He had begged on the phone in his thick British accent, “I found him eating out of a dumpster! Can’t we keep him?” And after that long call to London, Ghost was allowed to stay with Toast for good.

Everyday, Ghost led him on the strangest, most ridiculous antics, from ghost hunting to getting scars.

Their first ever case was at a restaurant. Ghost somehow cracked the case with a wad of bubblegum and a pan of the restaurant’s soup. The ‘ghost’ was actually the owner’s three year old daughter who got herself stuck in the ventilation system…

Toast found that he loved ghost hunting just as much as Ghost did. He was enamored by learning and researching as much as he possibly could on the subject. He would go to the library, and check out a red wagon’s worth of books on it. He would tell Ghost everything that they said in great detail, because Ghost couldn’t read. He stayed up late into the night, long past the point of Ghost falling asleep on him, reading the books or scouring the internet for anything related to the subject. He realized that one day, he too wanted to write a book about ghost hunting and the supernatural.

When they weren’t ghost hunting, Ghost took him sledding down the roof, and orchestrated a western style shooting between the two of them with snowman heads. He was just so fun. Once, while they were out playing in the street, Ghost had said, “Johnny! Pick up that brick, look at the sky, and throw it straight up! It’s so much fun!” Ghost had gotten in big trouble for that…

The nannies never did like Toast’s companion. They would ask things like, “Why does he call you toast?? Why do you call him sir?!” They also didn’t like him because he tended to stare. He never directly asked for anything, if he wanted a hug from Toast, he would just put himself in front of him until the older boy figured it out. Or if he was hungry, he would just stare at the nannies. It really creeped them out, but eventually, they got the hang of it.

All of this didn’t matter though, because Toast loved him.

For Ghost’s 12th birthday, well, it wasn’t actually his birthday, but rather, the day that he had found Ghost in that old house, he bought him a video camera. It had night vision and everything, perfect to recount their paranormal investigations.

Ghost came up with this ridiculously endearing intro. He would sling his arm over Toast’s shoulders every time, to make sure they were both in the frame, and he would always have the biggest, goofiest smile on his face before he spoke in a loud, booming voice. “GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURERS! I am Johnny Ghost! Paranormal investigator, extraordinaire! I’m here with my partner, Johnny Toast! And today, we’re investigating the mystery of the lunch lady’s meat locker!” It made Toast so inexplicably happy to see Ghost happy.

One day, when the two of them were simply relaxing in their room, Ghost’s head laying on Toast’s lap, Toast asked, “Why do you like ghost hunting so much, Johnny?”

Ghost perked up, “Hm? Well, strange things keep on happening to me, and I want to know why.”

Toast nodded, then paused for a moment.

“Do you…ever want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what, Johnny?”

“Well…the time before I found you”

Ghost paused, his eye twitched, “No…it’s bad. Makes my head hurt, And, and I—I can’t even remember it either so what’s the point?”

Johnny nodded sternly, he didn’t believe Ghost’s conflicted answers, but he accepted them. “Alright, sir”

Things became dark for the next few years…

People, so many people started to go missing in their quiet town in North Carolina. And Ghost…he started acting strange.The nannies told him that Ghost needed help that they couldn’t provide. So, Ghost was sent away for a while, and strangely, the disappearances miraculously stopped. Toast visited Ghost in the hospital every single day. “They’re going to help you” He would say, and whatever other helpless words of encouragement he could think of. Strangely, despite how useless Toast felt in the situation, his presence somehow managed to calm Ghost down and keep him in control.

Ghost was discharged from the hospital just in time for high school. It was soon after that that the boys shared their first kiss.

The two of them were on cloud nine for a while after that. The only thing that ruined it was Toast meeting Jimmy Casket for the first time…

He had found Ghost, well, more like Ghost’s body, crazed, red eyed, and in his underpants. His blood splattered form was crouched over a mutilated corpse, knife firmly clenched in his hand. Jimmy had been *eating* the man’s small intestine…

And that was the first time that Toast had to ‘take care of it’…

Life went back to as close as ‘normal’ as it could. Toast was adamant on not abandoning the beyond traumatized Ghost after what they had both discovered. So, the two of them resumed their ghost hunting. The nannies made Ghost get a job at McDonald’s, he rode a scooter to work in the bad side of town. And Ghost forbade Toast from *ever* visiting him at work because it was somehow ‘embarrassing.’ It was kinda adorable to watch Ghost scream and blush when Toast showed up anyways…

A few years after highschool, Toast lost Ghost, and by extension, he had lost everything. From the constant news coverage, it was very clear that Jimmy was constantly fronting. And to Toast’s complete and utter horror, he rose to be one of the world’s most renowned serial killers. He was using *Ghost’s* body, the boy that Toast promised himself he would protect, to commit these horrible crimes. He was hurting people, he was going to hurt Ghost, and eventually, he was going to get the love of Toast’s life locked away in prison forever.

So, Toast used the ghost hunting abilities he and Ghost had honed for nearly a decade for another purpose. He hunted Jimmy Casket down. It had taken years, but eventually, he had been able to capture the murderer, contained him. And somehow, with Toast’s presence, Ghost returned to the surface.

Ghost didn’t remember what had happened over the past few years, his time without Toast, Jimmy Casket’s killing sprees. But Toast was glad for it.

The two of them finally, officially founded P.I.E. Paranormal investigators extraordinaire! The company that they had been dreaming about since they were children. And, case by case, they quickly grew to prominence and fame for their ghost hunting abilities.

Now, Jimmy only came out sometimes, when Ghost was distressed or overwhelmed, triggered by the sight of blood. And when that happened, Toast knew what to do.

And, that took them to where they were today.

After half an hour to forty five minutes of Jimmy’s rambling and threats, more than enough time for Toast to make his cup of tea and finish it, Toast had finally managed to wait him out. Casket was likely bored without anything to stab…

Toast was alerted to the shift by the sound of Ghost crying again...

Toast was crouched down at Johnny’s side immediately. His eyes held that softness all over again. He spoke to Ghost gently, like he was a wounded animal. “Welcome back, sir…I’m going to finish washing you off, ok?”

And so, he did just that. The only sounds being that of Ghost crying, and the water. Said water had to be changed several times…it grew red so fast…

“Johnny…” Ghost’s voice was like a whisper, his face hidden under his fringe. “…can I have a hug?” His tone was cracked and broken.

Toast was surprised. Ghost *never* verbally expressed when he wanted affection, he had too much pride for that. Though, it had always been obvious to Toast that he yearned for it.

Toast nodded, “Of course, sir.” And then, he hugged Ghost, blood and all.

He towel dried his partner, finishing off by rubbing the towel over the boy’s head. Once he was done, Ghost’s mop of brown hair was fluffy and clean.

After that, the both of them knew what had to happen next.

Ghost had long ago made Toast *promise* that it would be this way, that no matter what, he would protect himself from Jimmy. He said that he would never forgive himself if something happened to Toast because of Casket. And to drive his point in further, he swore that he would kill himself if he ever killed Toast. It scared Toast enough to be careful.

Toast held Ghost’s face in his hands for a moment, took in the painful sight of the usually loud and extroverted man, now crying and defeated. And then, he kissed him.

Toast laid a pair of pajamas out, close enough for Ghost to reach. Then, he traversed up the basement stairs. With his own body safely on the other side, he tossed the key down to the basement. He quickly shut and locked the door before he heard the sound of the metal making contact with the ground.

He waited outside for a good ten minutes. Then, he knocked on the door, and asked, “Sir, are you settled?”

He got a weak reply in the affirmative. From his voice alone, Toast could tell that it was Ghost. Jimmy’s voice was high pitched, and the killer wasn’t smart enough to be able to impersonate Ghost.

When Toast came back, Ghost had locked himself in the dog crate. Whenever Jimmy came out, they always quarantined Ghost for seventy two hours after the fact, in case of any resurgences. It was a brutal experience for everyone involved.

There was a mountain of blankets underneath Ghost, to try and make it as comfortable as possible, but how could it be, really? He was fully dressed, and had tossed both keys away from himself. Ghost was curled up in on himself, silent.

Toast walked down the stairs, that worried look still plaster on his face. He picked up the two keys, pocketed them. Then, he crouched down next to his lover.

“Sir, can I get you to eat anything?

Ghost just shook his head. “No…” he replied glumly.

Toast just sighed, “alright then, sir.”

And so he sat down on the ground next to his lover.

[stormyoceans]

what's the song that plays during glasshouse also is it possible to share a list of songs/music that's not known much in the series

NOBODY MOVE THIS IS MY TIME I HAVE AN EXCUSE TO MAKE A MASTERPOST OF THE VICE VERSA SOUNDTRACK AKA THEE BEST SOUNDTRACK IN TELEVISION HISTORY SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO HERE WE GO!!!!!!!!!!

OFFICIAL OST

have i found – sea tawinan

the key – jimmy jitaraphol, sea tawinan

complicated – indy thanathat

by my side – jimmy jitaraphol

madly in love – jimmy jitaraphol, sea tawinan

INSERT SONGS

miracle – sofa [it’s the one that puen sings at the bar in episode 2 and that talay sings back to him at the beach in our skyy episode 2]

love – paradox [talay sings an acoustic version of it to puen in episode 6]

city – three man down [hourglass hug in episode 12] (SORRY BUT THIS WILL ALWAYS BE A PUENTALAY SONG TO ME)

INSTRUMENTALS

actually let me just say something real quick before moving on: this is by no means a comprehensive list as 1) i’ve decided to leave out the upbeat tracks to focus on the more emotional and meaningful ones, 2) i’ve put only the ones that were recognized by two different music identifier apps, and 3) there are genuinely SO MANY instrumental songs in this show and they can change SO QUICKLY (only in the glasshouse scene at the end of episode 4 they used 5 different tracks ;;;;;; [AND YOU CAN BET I PUT THEM ALL IN THIS LIST]) so it’s hard to recognize every single one of them. i definitely missed a lot and i also didn't specify all the scenes you can find a specific song in, but hopefully this still can be a good starting point.

speak without words – we dream of eden, christopher galovan [puen wearing the bucket hat in episode 1]

the echo of you – at the end of time, nothing [‘what if i have a problem one day? who should i go to?’ ‘me.’ in episode 2 // 'don't tell me after spending time together, we turn out to be each other's portkeys.' 'if it's you, i'm okay.' in episode 3]

beautiful days, faraway – itay kashti [drunken kiss in episode 2]

i love clouds - rymdklang soundtracks ['to be my wife, you must endure.' in episode 2]

once every 20 years – at the end of times, nothing [talay and puen meeting at the park in episode 2 // nivea bathtub scene (my beloved) in episode 3 // greyllery kiss in episode 8 // beach kiss in our skyy episode 2]

shooting star – rachel meyer [puen repeating a line from the movie to talay in episode 3 // talay under the rain in episode 4 // ‘do we get along well?’ in episode 7]

elusive dream – at the end of time, nothing [shy puen in episode 4 // snow falling in episode 5]

distant echo - jakob ahlbom [puen and talay drawing on each other's back in episode 4 // talay saying what he missed about puen in episode 6 // 'where there's you, there's me.' in episode 8 // puen giving talay the friend credits folder and shirt in episode 12]

wind land – TURPAK [‘so? will they fall in love?’ ‘i guess they will.’ in episode 4 // puen directing talay in episode 8]

holding on to hope – christopher galovan [‘are you hitting on anyone right at the moment?’ in episode 4 // puen and talay recreating a scene from their movie in episode 9]

flight of the inner bird – yehezkel raz, sivan talmor [‘how about we fall in love with each other?’ in episode 4]

pulchra – at the end of times, nothing [‘been waiting for you’ in episode 4]

and they call me daddy - christian andersen [puen apologizing to talay at the glasshouse in episode 4 // talay learning puen's past from pang in episode 9 // talay remembering puen singing to him in episode 11] (DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THAT PUEN SAYS 'sleep on daddy's lap here' WHILE THIS SONGS PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND AND BY HATE I MEAN I WANT TO KISS PìX ON THE MOUTH)

love - ben winwood ['there's one more thing about the characters that i don't understand.' in episode 4] (GOES INSANE)

the ground after a summer rain - at the end of times, nothing [glasshouse kiss in episode 4] (GETS DRAGGED INTO A PADDED ROOM)

materialising – of water [puen asking talay to move in with him in episode 5 // puen hugging talay to sleep in episode 6]

glimmer light – amaranth cove [‘i freaking missed you’ in episode 6]

distant shores – amaranth cove [puen massaging talay's ear to sleep in episode 6 // talay reaching the secret island in episode 11]

you are the reason – francis wells [almost kiss in episode 7]

everything comes to an end – of water [talay leaving friend credits in episode 7 // 'where is the person who promised to go back with me?' in episode 9]

heavy clouds drawn back – be still the earth [talay meeting puen on the way to the secret island in episode 9]

the sky is no limit – at the end of times, nothing [bucket hat reveal in episode 9 // talay reading puen's 'wish' in episode 11 // 'without work, i can survive. without him, i can't.' in episode 12] (NEEDS TO BE HEAVILY SEDATED)

telekinesis – tellsonic [bathtub kiss in episode 10]

any given place – of water [talay at the glasshouse in episode 11]

[snuggerudism]

it was hallie’s second halloween, but her first one being able to walk, so teagan had dressed the one year old up as piglet from winnie the pooh.

it was jimmy’s idea, mostly due to the fact he had stumbled across a picture of a baby dressed as piglet, and “needed to see his favorite baby in it.”

teagan agrees, and goes searching for the perfect costume option for teagan. along the way, she stumbles across a tigger adult onesie and pooh adult onesie, selecting jimmy and her respective sizes.

it was decided they would be doing a family costume, so she’s placing the order for all their costumes.

now, it’s the day of, and jimmy is at practice when teagan decides to surprise him. she’s collecting hallie from her crib, throwing on the cute pink costume and filling up a basket with a variety of candy and driving to the rink.

“upie upie.” hallie is making grabby hands at her mom as she unbuckles her from the car seat.

“yeah bug, we’re going to go see immy,” hallie coos at her daughter, smiling at the giggles that escape her lips. “oh, you’re just the cutest little baby on the planet.” she tickles her daughters stomach as she scoops her into her arms before placing her in the stroller.

hallie waves at the media girls before hopping out of her stroller, moving to go behind the bench and tapping on the glass. “immy!” she says, but nobody pays her attention because they can’t hear her. “immy!” she tries again, this time successfully because heads are whipping toward the one year old.

“bug!” jimmy skates toward where she is, opening the door to the ice before scooping her up.

“be careful with her jim.” teagan is handing him the bucket of candy for hallie to pass out to the hockey team.

“we’re not allowed to have candy during the season.” one of jimmys teammates snaps at hallie, and loud wails can be heard escaping the one year old.

her small hand is fisting jimmy’s shirt, sobbing into his shoulder. “immy.” she chokes out, needing his comfort.

teagan is helped on the ice, placing a hand on her daughters back. “hey bug, mama’s here.” she coos, sending the nastiest glare toward the man who made her daughter cry.

“well, i’m the coach and i say today we can let them have one piece of candy each.” motzko looks to hallie.

hallie sniffles, moving her head off jimmy’s shoulder and looking at the candy. he lifts it up, and she takes a piece to hand to ollie. “dis one?”

“yes hallie, that’s my favorite!” ollie gives her a smile, skating off to the side to let someone else get one from the baby. one by one, they get a piece from the toddler.

the last person in line is the guy who made hallie cry, and she’s scowling at him. “no,” she babbles, turning to squish jimmys cheeks. “immy.” she takes a piece of candy to hand it to him, and he shoots her a smile in return.

“thank you bug. have i told you how much i love your costume?”

“t’anks.” she pats jimmy cheek, placing a wet kiss there.

“just wait till you see the adult onesies i got us jim. they go with her costume.” teagan wiggles her eyebrows at her boyfriend.

jimmys face pales, and the team bursts into laughter.

[holidayvisa]

1 February 2024 - I rode my scooter to the pickup spot in Henderson. When I got to Henderson, a really nice New Zealander wished me a good morning and a lovely day! He was just a dude in a high-vis shirt with a bucket of cleaning supplies and some nitrile gloves cleaning graffiti, and he wanted to make my day 🥰🥰 As Cam and Jordan pulled up, Jordan gave me a mana wave out the window before they pulled into the parking lot, and I could immediately feel the mana! A huge smile appeared on my face, and my day was made! I hopped in the van, and we drove to Piha. I led most of the day, and it went really smoothly! Cam brought six sandwiches for six clients, but only five showed up... so... I got to eat a client sandwich with beetroot and avocado😋🤤😋🤤. I felt really good about running the top of the fourth abseil. The clients had a blast!

When I got home, I hung out with Jimmy, Maddie, and Arnie. We took Maddie to the night markets, and it was both Maddie's first time as well as Arnie's first time going to the night market. We all had a good time, walking around, and smelling the delicious food. I got some veggie dumplings, and I shared some with Maddie; she LOVED the veggie dumplings! Arnie bought some dessert to share. We went home, Jimmy dropped Maddie off, and the three of us enjoyed our desserts (Arnie is dishing out the desserts in the photos above) while watching my GoPro videos of Piha Canyon from today. Jimmy and Arnie loved watching the canyoning videos! They asked to see more videos, so I showed them the video from rafting the Zion Narrows and the canyoneering descent of Heaps Canyon. They LOVED watching these videos! Jimmy is going to take me to Massey to check out a motorcycle for sale on facebook marketplace 🤞.

I'm grateful to the nice stranger that started off my day with a friendly greeting. I'm grateful to Jordan for giving me some of his mana first thing in the morning. I'm grateful to Cam for his mentorship. I'm grateful for a fun-filled day in the canyon. Now that I'm getting the hang of the canyon, I'm able to be more fun and less serious, which is really cozy. I'm grateful for Jimmy, his energy, his enthusiasm, his generosity, and most of all his friendship. I'm grateful for Arnie and his generosity and friendship too. I've got a really good thing going here. I can't believe how different I'm feeling here and now in New Zealand than I was in Cairns in December. I'm so lucky to have ended up here - like geographically here in New Zealand, but also like here at AWOL with Cam and Jordan and like here at the sharehouse on Fitzwater Place with Arnie and Jimmy (and sometimes Maddie). How lucky am I!

[coyotescribbles]

Fishing the knife out of the garment pile, Leda pressed the tip into the keyhole and jimmied it side to side until she heard a small click as the lock sprang open. Her heart was in her throat as she carefully removed it from the loops and deposited it in the laundry tub, before prying the rusty shackle off of her ankle.

It was harder to unlock the heavy iron collar, but she eventually managed, leaving those in the tub as well.

Only then did she crawl over to where Mara had quietly cried herself to sleep, and gently shake her awake, hushing her before she could say anything.

"Shh, hold still," she whispered, picking up the lock on Mara's own collar and picking that one open as well.

"Leda, what are you doing?" Mara asked under her breath, her small voice shaking.

"Getting us out of here," she replied, "c'mon."

Mara offered no argument as she took her by the hand and tiptoed out to the kitchen, where she helped her quietly gather up armfuls of cheeses and cured meats that were carted back to the laundry. Another trip fetched tin cups and bowls and a serving spoon, as well as a handful of spare flints from the basket by the hearth. The noisier items were bundled up in old clothes, and then rolled with the pilfered food into sheets to form two neat bundles.

"Put these on, you're gonna want them" Leda whispered, handing Mara a bundle of clothes consisting of a heavy woolen shirt, a shawl, and thick woolen socks; the shirt hung almost to her knees, and she had to roll the sleeve up to her elbows, and the socks were so loose that she had to tie torn strips of cloth around the tops to keep them from falling off. By the time she was dressed, and had her bundle tied across her back, she barely looked like a girl at all.

Neither did Leda, for that matter.

The last thing she gathered up was a torn wool blanket, which she rolled up and, with Mara's help, wrapped around the top of her supply bundle. Then, with silent footfalls, the pair slipped out of the laundry, back out into the kitchen, and started for the back door.

On the way, though, Leda paused. "Wait a second…"

Her gaze fell on the buckets of old kitchen oil set beneath the counter, and she remembered how their final escape attempt as kittens had been foiled.

Unbidden, she remembered all the abuses they had suffered at the innkeeper's hands.

(All the abuses Mara had suffered at that horrid woman's hands.)

She couldn't let them be chased down again. This was going to be their last escape, she swore it.

Snatching up a bucket, she hurried to the dining area and splashed the greasy oil across the wooden floors and furniture. A second bucket followed, and a third left a trail of oil from the dining room, through the kitchen, to the door.

Her heart was hammering deafeningly in her ears as she crouched by the door and fumbled with a flint while Mara huddled against the wall nearby, knowing that any second someone could wake up and catch them and then it would be over and she couldn't let that happen-

A spark flew from the flint.

It hit the puddled oil and sizzled.

A second spark followed, then a third, and a fourth.

The oil hissed and spat.

And then a tongue of flame licked up. In moments, the blaze was creeping across the floor, lapping at every bit of fuel it encountered.

Choking on a gasp, Leda grabbed Mara's arm, and the two of them fled across the courtyard and across the back pasture, towards the rickety wooden fence that butted up against the treeline.

There, she paused one last time, looking back at the inn. It all seemed eerily calm under the light of the moons, the warm orange glow filling the kitchen looking almost inviting from a distance.

"Leda, c'mon!" Mara pleaded, tugging on her arm.

One moment more. One moment to take it all in as she watched the fire begin to creep higher, consuming everything in its path like a ravenous animal. They were far enough away that the alarmed squealing of the horses was barely a whisper.

If the innkeeper was screaming, too, she couldn't hear it, and that was the only thing she regretted as she finally turned away and fled into the forest with Mara at her side.

[untilthenextencore]

Old Habits Die Hard Ch. 5~...

Robert didn't understand it. How was it that even with that little tiff in the books & on its way to being smoothed over, he hardly felt any better? After that slight admonishment, the rest of the night was more or less a non-issue. It was a blur still. Drinks. Handshaking & backslaps. Congratulatory messages all around.

Along with that came several volleys of that same old question as to if the behemoth will rise again & when? All of which he did his best to evade & avoid. Though this time he was a little less off-handedly acid-tongued.

Her words still reverberated in his head. As did her look of abject disgust at his earlier behavior.

But really, it was hard to tell which affected him more, the image of her distaste at his earlier childishness & acting so "beneath him".

The memories of Mexico months earlier...

Or the sight he was confronted with then. Her on Pagey's arm. On his lap. Taking care of him. Primping his curls again. Patting his sweat away with a towel amidst kisses. Jimmy sitting happily & holding court with her sitting pretty on his lap.

Robert felt like a satellite just then. Or a meteor. He didn't know which. Making his rounds of the crowds of fans & friends... Only to then crash near if not into her.

And crash he did, into the dark depths of backstage, just in earshot (if not eyeline) of the two of them in one of their many clinches. The darkness giving Jimmy license to get a little more bold. At least from what he could tell. Jimmy was mauling her happily. Salt & pepper hair obscuring the curve of her neck. Where his lips were then attached to no doubt.

Or so he could tell by her voice as it lilted above her soft giggles to hush an endearing. "Jimmy... You know this collar can only cover so much, darling." As she did her best to keep his jacket from falling off her shoulders.

He didn't see much else, turning heel & leaving. Apparently, they had the same idea. As it is while he was on his way out of the backstage area he hears a faint yet familiar. "Bye, Robert!" Followed by an equally familiar. "Yeah, bye mate!" Robert turned to see Gati waving at him as Jimmy wrapped an arm tighter around her as he led her briskly away & out back into the crowd. Into the night. Into the ether.

The rest of the night was a blur of pints. Pints passed to him & Pints he got himself. Congratulations or consolations. He wasn't even fucking sure anymore.

When the dust settled & the dream clouds (or drink clouds) parted though he might not realize it, he felt that mystical force pulling or pushing him. The satellite was on the move. The asteroid prepping himself for the inevitable crash.

~

Before he knew it, Robert found himself outside the door of Pagey's room with a little wrapped present in tow. He didn't know what to expect when he knocked on the door. Gati in a sheet. Gati wrapped in the blanket. Gati in another one of Pagey's shirts? If he were thinking straight what actually ended up confronting him would've made sense. Pagey fisting a bottle of champagne & looking a little tousled.

Bed rumpled.

Shit.

"Hello, Robert. What brings you around?" Jimmy smiled, eyes falling to note the prize or present Robert brought with him. That same familiar wry smile curved his lips. Content with the fact that it was he who held the true prize.

"Oh, nothing much. I just figured since we were both still around you might like to have lunch..."

The grin widened, curving one side of the mouth higher than the other. "I see... Well come in, come in! Not sure I can make lunch, mate. But perhaps tea. Y'see Gati is still getting ready for the day. We had a long night..."

"Ah yes, Gati..." Despite it all, Robert did his best to appear off-hand about it all. He tried his best - albeit in vain - not to let those last words nor the lascivious sounding chuckle that followed get to him, as he made his way into the suite. Delightfully disheveled everything was. A bucket of partially melted ice on a mini table to the right that had clearly housed the bottle of champagne that was then in Pagey's possession. It now held two discarded flutes; one with a discernably pinkish red lip print. The aforementioned rumpled bedclothes. Pagey's clothes from the day before lay tossed about. And a very tell-tale slip dress cast to the floor.

That came as a blow to Robert.

Despite his best efforts to try to shield that from prying eyes, he knew Pagey's own inscrutable gaze could see all. He knew him too well not to. Robert knew that well. That fact was driven home when his gaze lifted from the slip dress to find Pagey's gaze locked straight on him. The grin never wavered.

However he hardly had any time to contemplate that before a soft voice rang out from the bathroom.

"Jimmy have you seen my hair clip? I still can't find it anywhere! I-- oh!... Hello, Robert."

It was then that Gati appeared. Appearing around the corner out of the powder room as she fastened a swath of fabric around her bust, hair wrapped in a turban, with a towel wrapped & slung around her waist. Her body swathed in a sheen. Damp with dew still.

Talk about knockout.

Robert couldn't feel his own breath. He wasn't even sure if she was breathing. His words left him. She seemed to be moving in slow motion. Patting herself dry with another towel as she crossed the room, affixing herself willingly to Jimmy's side.

Jimmy's arm slunk around her waist, hand splaying on her lower stomach & teasingly clawing through the cascading droplets on her midsection. This made Gati giggle & writhe a bit, clearly ticklish, before turning to cup Jimmy's shadowed jaw to press kisses to his cheek. His grin then brightened as it was followed by a chuckle.

More claiming.

Classic Pagey.

"No, luv. I haven't seen it. I'm sure it's around somewhere. It'll turn up." He returned her kisses as his fingers danced along her damp midsection, making her wriggle & gasp.

"Jimmy!" She squealed, beginning to giggle again as she tried to still his hand. "Jimmy! Jimmy that's enough! Please!" Then adding as his lips traced a familiar path down her neck, drawing Robert's eyes to a bit of soft bruising along the nape.

Hickeys.

Damn Jim.

"Jimmy! Jimmy, please! Not in front of Robert! It's bad enough you've marked me so already! Oh, I'm gonna have a wonderful time covering this later for work."

Just for good measure, Jimmy gave her nape a quick little nibble & suck, making both Gati & Robert squirm, albeit for different reasons. Unlike Gati, Robert wasn't in much of a mood for giggling & squealing. Jimmy's chuckling & self-satisfied smiling didn't make it any better.

Recovering after her little joy filled fits, Gati did her best to compose herself. A small smirk threatening to spread across her lips as she turns to the guitarist beside her & asked. "By the way Jimmy... Have you seen your scarf as of late? Your favorite white one?"

Jimmy whipped his head around, taking stock of where his things lie around the room. No scarf in sight. It wasn't until he noticed Gati give him a pointed look as she adjusted the tie on her "top" that he twigged. "Luv!" He broke out in incredulous laughter. "You didn't!"

"I did! I thought it cute this way. Don't you think so?" Gati asked offhandedly, while fluffing the "bow".

"I do, darling!" He nodded, then leaning in to hush an addition which Robert could still hear. "You'll find out just how much when it's back on the floor later..." Another kiss to the neck & cheek followed. As did more kisses from Gati in return along with giggles.

Robert was helpless but to watch. Watch Jimmy as he fully enjoyed & reveled in something he got only a taste of before being carried away by the wind & his own insecurities. Something he hesitated to allow himself to enjoy in full as he might've in times before. It wasn't the seventies anymore. Apparently, seventies or not, Jimmy had no such qualms or reservations.

Jimmy just chuckled, before bringing Gati's attention to something of great importance. "Gati luv, it seems Robert here came to invite us to tea or lunch or what have you. He also brought a present for you."

"Is that so?" Gati turned to face Robert, motioning to the box clasped in his hands. "Is that for me?"

Robert nodded, rasping a soft "Yeah..." as he passed over the box for Gati to inspect.

"Thank you. That's very sweet of you." Beneath the bowed ribbon, she could make out the words, "Fine Mexican Chocolate". She smiled. "Now Robert! Where on earth did you find this?"

At last, some of Robert's bravado came back. "Oh, I have my ways..."

"I'm sure you do. Or so they say..." She giggled, luring a laugh out of him as well. "Whatever made you buy me this?"

"I just wanted to apologize for last night..." Robert's words caught Page's attention. The dark-haired guitarist raised an eyebrow as he took another swig from the bottle of champagne, cutting his eyes at Robert.

Robert explained. "It seems that during the interview with MTV Gati picked up on something I said that went sideways. She spoke up & out later on. Wildly protective of you she is! She gave me quite a tongue-lashing. Well earned I'd say. Though of course, I meant no harm."

"Oh, of course..." Jimmy murmured against the mouth of the bottle with a smirk.

"She confronted me. Defended you tirelessly in fact. That's quite a little spitfire you have on your hands, mate!" Robert laughed.

Though the laugh faltered a bit on his lips as Jimmy - chest puffed with pride & with his grin as wide & bright & proud as it's ever been - clutched Gati tighter as she nibbled one of the chocolates & grinned as he declared. "Don't I know it! S'part of what I like about her so much." He turned to Gati with a proud smile. "Thank you, darling."

Now the bravado fell again as Jimmy licked his lips after yet another kiss, murmuring. "Mmmm, chocolate."

More giggles followed, Gati asking. "Tastes better with champagne, no?"

"I think..." Jimmy replied with a nod, tilting the champagne bottle slightly to her after she finished her last bite. "Tastes better on your lips..." Taking her lips in yet another kiss, humming in delight as he relished the mingled taste of champagne, chocolate and her.

Robert was dumbfounded. He felt relieved that the tiff was now well & truly behind them. Glad she enjoyed his present so as well. He didn't foresee Jimmy enjoying the present as much as Gati. Certainly, he didn't foresee Jimmy enjoying it in such a way either. How did Jimmy become the victor to whom all the spoils belonged to & went? The champagne. The chocolates. And her?

Robert was pulled from his contemplating his quandaries by more of Gati's giggles cascading into his thoughts, into his ears & her lyrical soft voice asking. "Well... Back on topic... Must I dress for dinner or whatever it is? Anything special?..."

"No, not at all. Very come as you are sort of place. Er, that is, wear what you like!" Robert corrected himself.

"Great! Sounds wonderful!" Gati clapped once before going over to a suitcase lying open nearby. "Mind if I borrow something, Jimmy?"

"Not at all! Take what you like, luv!" He smiled as she picked up a blouse & headed back into the powder room, announcing.

"I won't be long!" Gati then making Jimmy's grin widen as she added. "Oh! Here you go, Jimmy. Almost forgot. Don't want to misplace this!"

A dainty, delicate, manicured hand then appeared holding out a very treasured item from the cracked open door. A slightly damp & elegantly rumpled scarf, which until then had been her makeshift top. Jimmy took it with his thanks & evident great pleasure, gladly & proudly draping it around his shoulders as his accessory for the day.

For Robert it made his knees go weak. His blood felt like it was bubbling. Scalding. His heart felt like it was pumping out steam. And he felt a very familiar throb between his legs then grow all the more keener.

The same feeling intensified when she returned shortly thereafter. Very lightly made up. Black miniskirt & heels. Hair loose, wavy & still somewhat damp. A shirt that is very decidedly too big for her - very decidedly Jimmy's - tied under her bust.

Yet again, Jimmy's grin widened to a truly Cheshire cat level.

Yet again Robert's jaw fell.

Either way the effect was the same.

K.O.

Knock. Out.

~

Hope you enjoy~!

Thanks to @firethatgrewsolow for some dialogue coaching~!

As ever this is forever under construction~

[everythingcanadian]

Fandom: Downton Abbey Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent Additional Tags: Touch-Starved, Hugs, Pre-Relationship, or even the beginning of one, figuring out emotions and sexuality, Jimmy is bisexual and you can pry that from my hands, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, slight angst, Pre-Slash, Thomas gets some hope that isn't squished immediately Summary: Thomas is at the end of what is possibly a short rope among the many he has to navigate. Jimmy is there to cushion his fall.

Author Notes: It was supposed to be a short thing for Tumblr. Oops. No beta we die like writers. I was listening to Virginia to Vegas - Betterman and these lyrics hit me for this. It screams both Jimmy and Thomas. "I wanna be a better me, a better man A better lover, better brother, better friend Put myself back together again 'Cause I still got a couple loose ends"

Thomas had self imposed a rule for himself to not touch anyone if it can be helped after the incident and certainly not after Thirsk or the talk he had with Jimmy. But he knows he's barely keeping it together.

He's just too tired to deal with anything happening like that again. It was a long, extraordinarily long, year of prickles and barbs that he does not need a repeat of. So, he vows, he just would not touch, even if permission was granted. Sure there are some touches that even he won't say no to. Little ones from Anna which are nice, a small pat on his back or shoulder. Daisy if she's handing things over or being handed something. Mrs. Hughes is the one who holds his shoulders or arms sometimes on the really bad days to get him into a semblance of rightness.

But then- he avoids all other touch as much as he can.

The first time Jimmy leaned into him was almost 8 months after they started to become friends, after his cuts and bruises and scrapes had all healed up and his scars faded into nothing but small barely there patches or lines of alabaster.

It was that morning that Thomas looked like he was going to need more than tea or coffee.

The start of his day being rough and his sleep the night before was awful for no other reason than his dreams waking him at near every hour. He doesn't remember them but he knows he was disturbed throughout the night.

Then at breakfast he spills his tea down the front of his livery due to his hands shaking from overexertion the day before.

He had carried crates and boxes up and down the servant stairs yesterday and he overtaxed his arms, leaving them shaky when he lifted so much as a pen.

And when he was changing his soiled shirts and waistcoat out for clean ones he looked down to see he was missing a button on the next shirt he brought out from the drawer and so he took that one off and got yet another shirt. Already down two crisp white uniform shirts and his arms felt sore for going through the motions of putting them on twice over now.

When he finally changed and got back down to the hall he barely had time to think before he was looking at the little task list that had his name on it on the servant hall podium. To his surprise it was only 5 lines deep thus far and they were easy to do. He noticed two were scribbled out but they were not in his mind when he fixed his uniform on his body, tugging the tails into clean lines on his torso, and setting off to organize the next week of luncheon menus with Mrs Patmore.

He had walked in and promptly stepped on something sticky. Looking down it was honey and it trailed from larder to work bench to Mrs. Patmore's desk where a puddle of the sweet golden goo had been left momentarily. He saw Ivy getting a wash cloth ready and a maid just leaving to get a bucket of hot soapy water to clean the mess. But Thomas has gone and stepped in it. There's a broken honey pot on the back work bench and Daisy looking unimpressed at the drizzling trail.

Thomas sighs and steps back with his clean shoe and leans over to take the sticky one off, stepping out of the ruined one and letting his socked foot down onto the cold floor.

It's when he's walking unevenly to the boot room with a damp cloth himself that he sighs and wants to be alone in the quiet. He shoos the only hall-boy out of the boot room, silence settling blissfully for all of 5 minutes as he cleans the tacky sweet honey from the sole.

It's Jimmy who walks in with a couple pairs of men's shoes that need polishing up and his list is tucked into the laces of one of the pairs. And he sees Thomas sitting at the table, leaning over, and looking like he has a world of a head ache and the pinched face of someone who needs to scream until their lungs give out. He knows what he can do. It's foolish. But it's something. So he sets his work on the table opposite Thomas and round the edges towards his friend.

He's been avoiding touching Thomas for a long time now. As equal to the effort that Thomas had been avoiding touching him. He's seen how Thomas also avoids the others where Jimmy has no such qualms.

But they live in each other's back pocket and learning to be friends has gotten them closer quickly. Banter is sarcastic and witty, conversations are getting to a deeper level that requires a biscuit or two and a glass of milk if they can sneak it. So it's not a hardship when Jimmy, knowing Thomas is still besotted with him, sets the shoes down on the table top and comes up beside the chair Thomas is on.

Thomas sets his wet shoe down along with the cloth and looks up at Jimmy over his shoulder, silver eyes tired and sad. He's quiet, even now while Jimmy is close, his face quiet too by holding it neutral so nothing falters. Jimmy just steps behind him and enfolds Thomas into a hug. His arms go over Thomas's shoulders, almost like a piggy back ride. And he presses his cheek to the top of pomade slick hair. He doesn't care if he ends up sticky from brilliantine, he can suffer such a minor thing to comfort his best friend.

He wonders if he's made a mistake as Thomas is still silent, body still, but not unnaturally so like when they accidentally brush against the other.

It's moments before Jimmy feels little hot drops of salty tears on his clasped hands. It's silent when Jimmy feels them. The veneer of calm slowly breaking with thin fissures away from his eyes until Jimmy feels the slight shake of Thomas under his embrace and the sounds of hurt frothing up from the depths of Thomas's soul. He hears the little cracked and held back sobs of a very strung out man. Jimmy holds on tighter when Thomas's hand comes up to pat Jimmy's, only to hold them there and press back into the warmth. It should be pathetic how much Thomas is relying on him in this moment. But how could it be when the man is unraveling under nothing more than a weak excuse of a hug.

Jimmy sighs, humming quietly in sympathy. He knows the feeling of nothing going right, of pain behind the eyes and the back of the head, of a night of intermittent sleep, and over used muscles refusing to stop shaking the day after. Jimmy stays like a knapsack around Thomas's back. He even coos softly into the room for only Thomas's ears. The quiet words like a balm against Thomas's frazzled head. "You're alright, mate.", "I've got you.", "Let it happen, Thomas.", and "Sh sh sh sh. I'm here Thomas. Just me innit? And some boots that won't tell a single other sole." The play on words had Thomas choke out a laugh through his staccato and near whispered weeping, reaching up to wipe at his wet cheeks and sore eyes.

He groans at the mess he's made of himself and looks down as best he can through the blur to see Jimmy's hands now rubbing slow circles into his upper chest, comforting and calming. Thomas does not know what to make of this but he needs it. He craves it more than he knows and this is giving in to the need to have another person touch him, giving his mind and body the fuel it requires to survive. A simple human touch against his clothed skin.

"Thank you, Jimmy. I needed this." he croaks.

"Yeah? Hadn't noticed." He was only half serious. He sighs against the waxed strands of hair sticking to his smooth cheek and jaw. He wonders how a man like Mr. Barrow can collapse at small acts of human comfort. Then something dawns on him that he had thought of before. "When was the last time you had a proper cry? A hand to hold? A hug even? Someone touching you with more than a doctor's manner?"

Thomas scoffs and hiccups as all people do after crying. "Proper release was- that night everything else has been just quick or buttoned up. And as for a hug?" Thomas squirms a little in Jimmy's hold and causing the younger to move his arms just a little so that Thomas could take deeper breaths. "It may have been just after the war. Mrs Hughes saw me at my lowest then, I told you all that, but she held me when I broke down. That was how many years ago now?" He paused sniffling and coughing in order to get a semblance of control. "--its not often I get a chance to cuddle with a beau or to even shake a hand when it pleases me. You know me, blokes like my kind, touch is- well- not a light subject." Thomas sounds far away, nose plugged and throat sore now. "Queers are careful, Jimmy. One wrong look in anyone's direction and we're headed for the gallows." It was straight forward.

At this confession Jimmy feels an urgent need to take Thomas into his arms all proper like. He disentangles himself from Thomas, hearing the barely there gasp and resigned sigh before he's pulling the chair back. It takes a bit of effort but Thomas gets the picture and pushes it away from the table enough so that Jimmy can slide in front of him with the table pressing just so against his back. He slaps a hand lightly against the inside of Thomas's knee and steps in between them when they part at the request. He pulls Thomas into his chest, his arms going around the man and pressing against his back, fingers played and holding firmly.

The moment Thomas's head hits his chest he feels shivery limbs come up around his body and hold tight. Time is meaningless like this. And eventually he slides one hand up along Thomas's spine to dive in to pomade slick strands at the back of Thomas's head, cradling him. The shaky arms drop from his back only to slip in between his own uniform tails and his dress shirt, hands sinking into the body warm material and holding fast. It's wonderful to feel Thomas relax against him, to know that he's providing something good for his friend than something damaging.

He closes his eyes and rest his chin on top of styled hair that is slowly being ruined into a wild mess. He hums a soft melody that he thinks is Vivaldi but he very well could be wrong. All he knows it Thomas melts against him and he is more than happy to hold him up. He thinks Thomas has fallen asleep but the moment he does and he stops humming is when Thomas heaves a deep but satisfied sigh. The sound of fabric being brushed by fabric fills the room as they slowly extract from each other, enough to relax and look at each other. Before pulling away Thomas rubs his stubble lined jaw against Jimmy's chest, getting the last few moments of the steady beats of his love's heart in his head. Jimmy is slow to pull away, looking down at a swollen and tired eyed Thomas in his arms.

He does something even more stupid than holding his best mate. He kisses Thomas's forehead softly, smiling when he hears the deep, sated, roll of a moan bubble up from Thomas's chest when he pulls back.

He looks sleepy, contented like a cat in a sun beam swirling with dust that his tail has kicked up. The adoration in his steel grey eyes is almost palpable and Jimmy likes seeing it there. It's better than the fear, the hurt, and all the strain that Thomas has been through and is going through. It's not uncomfortable as he though it might be. It's warming.

"Better?"

Thomas isn't verbal yet, still tucked into his own mind with the comfort and surrounding love that Jimmy had placed like a blanket on him. He nods slowly. He makes his mouth move if only for one word. "Loads."

Jimmy smiles, a lazy version of the one he only gives Thomas. His voice is rumbley and soft, "Your head any better? Saw you squinting at breakfast."

As if taking stock of his body, Thomas looks straight at Jimmy's chest and pauses. "No." He looks back up at Jimmy, "throbbing actually." The light from the window does not help matters Jimmy decides.

"I'll get you some beecham's and some water. You can sit here all quiet like. Let yourself relax for the moment." He pulls away entirely. His jaw is tacky with Thomas's pomade and his hand is slick with it as it melted under the heat of his skin. Thomas huffs a laugh, eyes almost closing with how dry they must be. "Glad it's funny. Don't know how you can stand touching this junk."

Thomas just grins slowly, eyes going with it. He's slow and still raw, not nearly fixed as a little bit of hugging won't make the festering need go away.

Grabbing the still damp cloth that Thomas was using to get the honey off his sole he wipes his chin and cheek as best he can before going to leave to get what he needs for Thomas. Those grey eyes follow him blatantly as he shuffles out from Thomas's legs holding his hips and from the table digging into his back. "I'll come right back and we can talk while we clean the shoes I should have had done by now. I've come to not like how you look when you're- not down- but sad. No- Out of sorts. Maudlin?" He waves his sticky hand in the air as if it would dislodge the word for him. "When the world is not kind and you need a pal. We need to discuss how I can help. And I want to help, as much as I'm able for you. I've been thinking of what we said to each other that day. I'm not saying I can give everything- at least not yet if I'm going to be honest with you. I have a lot in my past that i need to bury or climb over. But we can get to that in time. For now, I want to take care of you and if that means cuddling up to my queer mate and crying along side him then so be it. I'll gladly take that if it lets you rest the gears in your mind." Jimmy strode to the door on light feet, opening it as quiet as he can and slipping out quickly to get what he needs for Thomas.

The under-butler sat, hunched a little, and stunned, but very much warmed and comforted by Jimmy assuring him that this was not a one time thing or that he was fleeing. No- this was another step in being comfortable. He stands up to bring his chair back to the table, reaching over to grab one of the pairs of shoes and he takes the one with Jimmy's list among the laces. At the bottom of the list in printed words is the two tasks Thomas had seen scribbled out in thick pencil strokes on the bottom of his own list. He smiles and knows that he won't end up pulling something in his arms or shoulders.

[Haul suitcases to the attic from the main hall closet. Take stock and organize the new books in the lesser library.]

[stitchthesewords]

I posted 5,702 times in 2022

That's 5,590 more posts than 2021!

227 posts created (4%)

5,475 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/sparksnevadas

@/simplydm

@/bucket-of-amethyst

@/habeascorpseus

@/fritsnfribbles

I tagged 1,209 of my posts in 2022

#asks - 73 posts

#hermitshipping - 55 posts

#rift au - 43 posts

#mutuals - 38 posts

#mumscarian rift au - 38 posts

#oh my god - 34 posts

#hermitcraft spoilers - 32 posts

#stitch's writing - 31 posts

#empires spoilers - 31 posts

#mumscarian - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#idk sometimes i see people say that nho isnt allowed to be used for shipping but i have literally no idea how to tag their ship otherwise

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So I was inspired by @/lunarcrown's comic about Jimmy embroidering a new shirt for Tango and I really, REALLY wanted to try my hand at it. Is it obvious that embroidery is not my needlecraft of choice? lol, at least it leans into looking like what Jimmy was embroidering, right?

Anyway, everyone should go check out her art. I reblog it often enough on this blog that I hope you've seen it by now - and I hope this is okay/makes up for the amount of reblog spamming I do on your blog, Lunar! <3

158 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

#4

POV you are being stared at

453 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

#3

redstoner alignment chart thank you

693 notes - Posted September 27, 2022

#2

So I decided to try and chart out as much of the extended bdubs polycule as I could remember um

1,058 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I grew up in hospitals until I was about 10 and my health stabilized [and so did my legs]. What is being done by the hermitcraft community will help so many kids fight boredom, and lighten up their time spent in the hospital for sure.

When I was doing a long stint in a children hospital after a surgery on my leg, I was wheelchair bound. At the time, the hospital didn't have anything that I could play with in the room, but I could go down to a little playroom - the issue was, the playroom was so narrow that getting around it in the only available wheelchair [a wide seat adult wheelchair] for a little girl in third grade was impossible. I got frustrated, gave up, and went back to my room.

One of the nurses had a gameboy - I don't remember what the game was, but she let me play it for an hour until they needed me to go down to PT and its one of the only memories I have from that stay in the hospital. It was the only thing I really did besides the monotony of being in the hospital and staring at the wall. Video games and entertainment are so important for hospital patients, and hospitals do not have the funding to provide that themselves. Gaming Outreach is doing a beautiful thing, and Hermitcraft just made a HUGE investment into them. I saw someone point out that, based on the math they've done all day, its enough to get 4 carts each to the 21 hospitals on their waiting list.

I'm so happy I decided to get into Hermitcraft in July. I'm never leaving. I could cry for Scar and the rest of the Hermits right now. As a community, we've done something absolutely beautiful today.

1,477 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →