#cape fair bass

[chatsukimi]

Types of people as friends of mine

*when you can’t help but appreciate the people in your life

Romantic: bubbly laugh with crying eyes, childish jokes, spontaneous, shy, anime + manga list on post it note, hopeless romantic, indecision, short attention span, funny, curly hair, beautiful-oblivious, dark circles under eyes from sleepless nights, inferiority complex, doodles, follows rules by authority, nice, childhood crush’s sunflowers on drawer

Cynic: witty, warm hands, loyal fists, courageous, family over everything, secrets + facts, strong gaze, pencil scribbles on table, wrestling a sibling, cucumbers, competitive, computer games in class, sunlight, touches (aggressive and gentle), mothering, dependent and independent, middle child, joking gaslighting, uncommon common sense, unbelievable life stories, religious, competitive, caring, inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times, middle fingers at one’s enemies, bass beat of a club

Pessimist: dyed blue-black hair, alternative, black eyeliner, 50000 tabs open, murmurs, Six of Crows, morse code on revision sheet, silence, round glasses, stuttering laugh, mystery novels, K-drama, “mysterious”, burnt out gifted only child, introverted, drapes pride flag as a cape, pining for childhood heroes, leather jackets, fresh smell of books, fireplace, apathetic face, shares a brain cell with the romantic

Realist: golf on Sundays, maths equations, pushover, bathroom science experiments, critical, parental expectation, wine events, stubborn, slow words, slouching to hear others, gifted kid, jealousy, reliable, cursive text, sheltered, scathingly sarcastic, explanations to friends about school, hard working, overthinking

Absurdist: charismatic, midnight gym sessions, mimics friends’ movements, trespasses, calls of their name, independent, everyone likes them, knowing smiles, pull ups on a goal post, black cat, nights off the face of the earth, intellectual what-ifs, playful eyes (long periods of eye contact), chill, “that’s fine”, peaceful, coffee coffee coffee, dreams, doing before thinking, thrill-seeking, logical, music tastes reloading, direct, brave, reckless

Optimist: messy handwriting, cold hands, expensive coats handed down from family, intuitive phrases, distant, empty smiles, raised eyebrow, talking with strangers, flares of genius, will one day change the world, wandering into unmapped countryside, early mornings, passionate arguments on politics, leader, odd, emotion felt through piano, hopping on the spot, open-minded, ambitious, forgetful, sleeps in class, visionary, confident, “intelligent but insane”

Deontologist- smile of a little kid, teacher’s pet, anxious when imperfect, chocolate gelato at family movie nights, polite, golden retriever, righteous anger, serious gaze, baritone, supportive parents, fair but vindictive, polyglot, musicals, lover not a fighter, simple life, hidden past (turned success story), Mediterranean beaches, commitment, accepting, holds open doors, gifts from Europe, worried for optimist's happy-go-lucky attitude

[inkofamethyst]

August 24, 2024

My bass case came in!!!  I’m actually quite glad I didn’t choose a black one.  I’d love to do some embroidery on it, but it’s supposed to be weather resistant and I worry that poking holes in the finish might screw with that.  It’s kind of funny, I’m so short that I can carry it on my back and still fit under doorways despite the case being nearly my height.  Tall bassists could neverrrr.  Anyway now the bass doesn’t have to just sit in a cardboard box in the living room.

Also also also! I might be going to the renn faire next month for a friend's birthday!!!! This absolutely means I have to gather the equipment for a kit. I'm thinking of going as a bard and picking up a recorder from amazon then maybe sewing or crocheting some kind of holster for it to strap around my waist (while I'm obviously much better at flute, I'd rather carry around a fifteen dollar instrument all day than my hundred dollar (or, obviously, my thousand dollar) pride and joy (and there's no way I'm bringing my uke up even though I'd probably be an even better look)). Alternatively, I could use my already mostly trashed piccolo that I've no intent to really ever use again, though the metal instrument wouldn't go as well with the renn faire aesthetic compared to a wood (or wood-look) recorder (plus picc is lowk annoying lol).

I'll design anything I'd want to make and cut out the pattern pieces before leaving home then sew them while at uni. I also really want to get my twists redone then. Time to scour my pinterest dress-up board for inspiration! I'm fairly certain I know that I need/want a ruffly cotton shift or poet/pirate shirt at the very least, and I have this blue wool unattached to any specific project which could very well become a cape/cloak... eek I'm so excited!! I'd planned to go to bed early tonight but now I have at least another couple of hours before I can.

I did a bit of depopping last week and ordered things to my house. Two of four have come in and one of them is unfortunately not great quality. It's a floral tapestry vest, and about two sizes too big (I always learn my lesson when I don't ask for measurements, ugh ugh ugh). But! I think I can deconstruct it carefully then attach an entirely new back panel and fit the shoulders correctly. I may be able to dart the front for an even better fit, but that's not part of the plan. If it works it could be a nice addition to the renn faire 'fit.

Today I'm thankful that moving my sibling into their dorm was a pleasant experience. I'm thankful that I felt comfortable with the roommate, unlike last year where I almost immediately got bad vibes and turned out to be right, unfortunately. I'm also thankful for all the people who love us.

[sofya-fanfics]

Les décorations de Noël

Fandom : Naruto

Relationship : Sasuke x Sakura

Je me suis inspirée d’un prompt de @youneedsomeprompts : Décorer la maison.

J’espère que ça vous plaira.

Résumé : L’année passée, Sasuke avait fêté Noël avec Sakura dans un petit village à des centaines de kilomètres de Konoha. C’était le premier Noël que Sasuke passait depuis la mort de ses parents. Mais cette année serait différente. Ils étaient de retour à Konoha et Sarada était née. Se serait leur premier Noël tous les trois.

Disclaimer : Naruto appartient à Masashi Kishimoto.

AO3 / FF.NET

Sasuke sortit du bâtiment du Hokage. Il venait de terminer une réunion avec Naruto et Shikamaru. Le soleil se couchait et l’air froid de l’hiver le fit frissonner. Il resserra un peu plus sa cape et prit le chemin vers chez lui.

Les rues de Konoha étaient décorées aux couleurs de Noël. Les vitrines des magasins étaient décorées, les maisons étaient illuminées par des guirlandes, un grand sapin avait été installé au centre du village et le marché de Noël s’était ouvert.

L’année passée, il avait fêté Noël avec Sakura dans un petit village à des centaines de kilomètres de Konoha. C’était le premier Noël que Sasuke passait depuis la mort de ses parents. Mais cette année serait différente. Ils étaient de retour à Konoha et Sarada était née. Se serait leur premier Noël tous les trois.

Il arriva devant la porte de chez lui et entra. Il sentit immédiatement la douceur et la chaleur que Sakura avait réussi à apporter à leur foyer. Il pouvait entendre une musique de Noël dans le salon. Il entendait également le rire de Sakura et Sarada babiller. Il se dirigea vers le salon et écarquilla les yeux. Plusieurs boites de décoration étaient éparpillées dans la pièce. Le sapin qu’ils avaient acheté la veille, trônait devant la fenêtre, prêt à être décoré. Sarada était assise par terre et jouait avec une figurine de renne. Sakura, quant-à elle, sortait une guirlande de son emballage. Elle leva les yeux vers lui et un immense sourire illumina son visage.

« Sasuke-kun, tu es rentré. »

Sasuke acquiesça et sourit.

« Vous avez l’air de bien vous amuser. »

Sarada babilla à nouveau, comme pour acquiescer et Sakura rit légèrement.

« Avec Sarada, on a décidé de décorer la maison. »

Sasuke prit une petite maison lumineuse qui était posée sur la table basse et l’observa. En retournant dans l’ancien quartier des Uchiha, il avait retrouvé un carton de décorations de Noël que sa mère avait rangé. Pourtant, il n’avait jamais vu cette petite maison.

« Je ne me souviens pas de ces décorations. »

Sakura regarda les décorations autour d’elle et grimaça légèrement.

« J’ai fait du shopping avec Ino cette après-midi. Je me suis peut-être un peu trop lâchée sur les décorations. Mais c’est le premier Noël de Sarada. Je voulais faire quelque chose de spécial.

-Tu sais qu’elle ne s’en souviendra pas.

-Je sais. Mais nous, on s’en souviendra. »

Sasuke sourit tendrement. Il s’approcha de Sakura et passa son bras autour de sa taille. Elle avait raison. Cette année, Noël serait spéciale. Le premier Noël de leur fille était important. Ils devaient fêter cela et décorer la maison aux couleurs de Noël était un commencement. Il se pencha vers elle et l’embrassa délicatement.

« Par quoi on commence ? »

Sakura sourit et passa la guirlande qu’elle tenait autour de son cou.

« Par les guirlandes. »

Sakura s’écarta et alla chercher d’autres guirlandes. Ils décorent le salon, sous le regard de Sarada qui était émerveillée par toutes ces couleurs et ces lumières.

Fin

[hunterxxandxxhisxxpanther]

The “Fine Art” of Vampirism: Sucking (and we don’t mean blood...this time)

bass. my muse going deep (interpret as you want).

@thatdoodlebug​

“Hunter...” 

There is something about the way his nickname rolls off the other’s tongue in a specific drawling tone that has his nerves prickling because it is clearly dripping with a familiar want and desire that coils tightly low in his stomach as his own desire raise in agreement. His tongue darts out between his lips and he takes a slower breath to get a bit of a hold of himself. “Yes, Panther?” he returns seemingly all focused on what he’s doing which happens to be cleaning the latest ensnared rabbit which would no doubt make a great stew. But it’s not remotely where his mind is and he has a suspicion the other is very much aware of it.

“Hunter.” The emphasis on the repeat is enough to have him unable to resist a smile curving at the edges of his lips. He knows what that impatience signifies and knows that pushing much more might have a sight to behold for anyone who might show up to the castle. He’s pretty sure that neither Merle nor Rick want to walk in on them again. He’s not sure what time this would make but he can’t say as he’s too surprised. 

They tended to be very intense around each other and more often then not things spiraled into passions that spilled out. So he’d promised Rick that he’d try to be a little more contained these days. And he was trying. 

Success rate was...a work in progress. So he decides not to have the counter reset today and carefully sets the carcass aside so he can fully turn and face the other before there is a tonal shift. “Yes, Kitten?”  The look flashed tells him so much and he murmurs, “Lemme clean up and I’ll meet yer in th’ bedroom.”  “Arrive promptly if you do not mind, Hunter.” “Make it in under ten, promise.” He has an idea if he doesn’t the other will reappear and he’s sure everyone in the vicinity might get an eyeful. But that was the result heat and desire that rose between them, and it was a craving, needy thing which he still wasn’t sure there was control to be found or how one might go about doing that regardless. So until it was truly a problem then he’d do what Dixons were very good at: ignoring it all together. 

So he makes quick work, as promised, of cutting and storing the kill so that the meat could be used properly later and cleaned the table as well as he was sure that he doesn’t want to hear someone complain about lack of care or whatnot. He has more important things on his mind or at least a more important vampire. It’s with this in mind, he slips his boots off before slipping up the stairs lips curving into a smile brought easily at the other granting more of a bounce in his step as he heads for the chambers he’d chosen as his. Stepping into the room, he finds the other sitting on the edge of the bed leaning forwards showing his impatience. It draws a low chuckle from him as he shuts the door before twisting the lock. “You find me amusing do you?” 

“No, nothin’ like that,” he’s quick to assure, “‘M more pleased and delighted by th’ fact yer look like yer ‘bout ta launch from there like some caped missile.” 

“To be fair, I do blame you for my... lack of control these days. Or rationality. Or truly anything close to stoicism. You do make me very hungry, Hunter. So if you are done finding me a source of amusement, come here.” Daryl is still chuckling softly as he makes his way across to him. “So impatient. Would think yer were starvin’ or somethin’. Can’t really blame me fer...” The sentence is derailed rather violently by the sudden removal of his pants and boxers in a fashion that speaks to the other’s supernatural abilities and clear impatience with things. On the plus side at least these are spared being torn from him but only just as he’s fully aware due to the unfortunate demise of a few other clothing items.

However he can’t really worry too much when fingers drag him closer and he hears the impatient hiss that has him focusing on the other because it’s not usual that his partner is this pushy but the look leveled at him is something: dark and hungry. “D-damn, Kitten, what...” And again his voice trails off but this time it becomes a startled groan as he finds himself with the other shifting so that he he can lean and press his mouth over him without any warning. And the hard suck has him jerking forward. “Ahn!” His fingers find the other’s dark locks and tangle there. “Fuck....Oh...Yes, that’s...fuck...jus’ like that...” It’s not too long before there is the lewd sounds of the other sucking pressing close and Daryl’s head swims from the sheer intensity of it. His eyes close and his head lolls back as he draws him as close to his abdomen as he can get arching as the other sucks and curls his tongue as he seems to take him in exceptionally deep and swallows making him shake and the most desperate noises escape. 

His partner was very, very good with his mouth. Always had been. And seemed to just enjoy finding more and more ways of trying to remove Daryl’s soul with each encounter. As if it wasn’t already his to begin with. As if he had anything left to prove to Daryl in order to keep him. 

There was no where else and no one else Daryl would ever belong to but him alone. If it wasn’t bewitchment or enchantment then gods both above and below knew it was love. Had to be.

But introspection frays and tatters and vanishes in the skill of the others mouth, in the way he holds and presses and takes him apart in this way. It’s a powerful image, Daryl realizes as when his eyes open half-lidded and more silver than anything, even if the other thought it subservient. The vampire was a powerful sight on his knees like this. One of the most fantastic sights maybe bested, a little bit, by him splayed and shaking beneath him. His fingers thread and tighten. “T-Take m-me so well...f-fuck...wh-what a hungry Kitten yer are...Th-that’s it...sweetheart...get yer cream...”

The encouragement, not that it was truly needed considering there was enough desire between them to set the castle ablaze by it’s heat alone, still has lewder and wetter sounds escaping and it robs Daryl of his senses and coherent words. Instead it’s stuttered partial curses and arching and guttural sounds as the other works him up. 

And the payoff has him jerking him sharply against his groin with this sound; primal and desperate as he spills deep into the others throat. And it leaves him shaking and struggling to breathe properly as the other pulls off, mouth a mix of drool and bit of cum that can’t be contained and he looks so satisfied that Daryl cannot help shifting and pressing a kiss to his mouth tongue darting in and tasting the mix of his own semen and the other’s taste with a low rumbling sound before he finds himself shoving him to sprawl back on the bed. 

He nips his lower lip as he gazes in heady want. “L-like yer cream?”  The other licks his lips before giving him a satisfied grin. “You know I do have a...healthy appetite these days.”  Daryl finds himself giving a breathless laugh before he reaches and undoes his cape. “Well, if yer don’ wit’ yer treat then I want mine. ‘Cause now yer have me ravenous...”  “What a terrible fate,” comes the cheeky response, “but do please make sure to not let that get wrinkled. I do have an...image to uphold.”  Daryl gives a snort but he’s still careful with the familiar cape draping it over the nearby chair before he affixes the other. “Now, I think we have a date, Count Dracula, you and I.” 

“Oh, is that so, Hunter? Is the famed Van Helsing going to stake me as in days of old?”  Daryl shifts so that he’s straddled over him. “Oh, yer have no idea, sweet Kitten,” he breathes out, “Gonna make sure to do it hard an’ deep until yer well an’ truly put to rest.”  It draws a low pleased sound. “Sounds like a good time, sweet Hunter. So do your worst, Van Helsing...” 

[brookston]

Holidays 9.12

Holidays

Alligator Awareness Day

Amilcar Cabral Day (Guinea Bissau)

Bass Tuba Day

Battle of Vienna Anniversary Day

Burlesque Day

Cedar Tree Day (Lebanon)

Cinema Day (Iran)

Cleopatra’s Needle Day (UK)

Commercial Motor Vehicle Driver Appreciation Day

Day of Conception (a.k.a. Procreation Day; Russia)

Day of the Land Forces (Poland)

Day of the Programmer

Defender's Day (Maryland)

Diocletian New Year

Disability Awareness Day (UK)

Eleven Days of Global Unity, Day 2: Interdependence

End Digital Poverty Day (UK)

Enkutatash (Ethiopia, Rastafari) [Leap Years; 1st Day of Mäskäräm]

European Migraine Day of Action

Family Contact Day (Russia)

Goldenrod Day (French Republic)

Hey, Hey, It’s The Monkees Day

International Cinema Day

International Crochet Day

International Day for South-South Cooperation (UN)

Investigative Committee Day (Belarus)

Jesse Owens Day (Ohio)

Keddus Johannes (Geez New Year; Eritrea)

Lomia Asteroid Day

Marathon Day

Mindfulness Day

National Day (Cape Verde)

National Day of Civic Hacking

National Day of Encouragement

National Dementia Carers Day (UK)

National Flexible Working Day

National Hug and High Five Day

National Ink and Toner Day

Nationality Day (Cape Verde Islands)

National Just One Human Family Day

National Police Woman Day

National Programmers Day

National Reading Group Day

National Report Medicare Fraud Day

National Taylor Day

National Video Games Day

912 Day (Savannah)

Olympia Asteroid Day

Pioneers Day (Rhodesia)

Porsche 912 Day

Ruhnama Day (Book of the Soul; Turkmenistan)

Riglametha (Elder Scrolls)

Saint Patrick’s Battalion Mass Hanging Commemoration (Mexico)

Saragarhi Day (India)

Stand Up Against Bullying Day (Nova Scotia)

Steve Biko Day (South Africa)

Thank a Programmer Day

World Dolphin Day

World Goalball Day

World Rubber Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Chocolate Milkshake Day

National Blackberry Day (UK)

National Juicy Lucy Day

Popcorn Day

Independence & Related Days

ISTER Princedom (Declared; 2019) [unrecognized]

Revolution Day (Ethiopia)

2nd Thursday in September

MPN Awareness Day [2nd Thursday]

National Day of the Working Parent [2nd Thursday]

National School Picture Day [2nd Thursday]

R U OK? Day (Australia) [2nd Thursday]

Stop a Suicide Today [Thursday of the Week including the 10th]

Thirsty Thursday [Every Thursday]

Thoughtful Thursday [2nd Thursday of Each Month]

Three for Thursday [Every Thursday]

Thrift Store Thursday [Every Thursday]

Throwback Thursday [Every Thursday]

Toast Thursday [2nd Thursday of Each Month]

United Tribes International PowWow begins (Thru Sunday; North Dakota) [Thursday after 1st Monday]

Weekly Holidays beginning September 12 (2nd Full Week of September)

National Write Your Book in a Weekend Weekends [thru 9.15] (also in Feb, Apr & Nov)

Festivals Beginning September 12, 2024

Agricultural Fair (New Portland, Maine) [thru 9.15]

Annapolis Songwriters Festival (Annapolis, Maryland) [thru 9.15]

Atlanta Food & Wine Festival (Atlanta, Georgia) [thru 9.15]

Bandon Cranberry Festival (Bandon, Oregon) [thru 9.13]

Blair Cheese Festival (Blair, Wisconsin) [thru 9.15]

Budapest Wine Festival (Budapest, Hungary) [thru 9.15]

Chicago Jazz Getaway (Chicago, Illinois) [thru 9.15]

Feast of San Gennaro (New York, New York) [thru 9.22]

GOGBOT (Enschede, Netherlands)

GrapeFest (Grapevine, Texas) [thru 9.15]

Ig Nobel Prize Ceremony (Cambridge, Massachusetts)

Kyiv International Short Film Festival (Kyiv, Ukraine) [thru 9.18]

Lodi Grape Festival (Lodi, California) [thru 9.15]

Odesa Classics (Ghent, Belgium)

Oklahoma State Fair (Oklahoma City, Oklahoma) [thru 9.22]

Saint George's Annual Middle Eastern Food Festival (Birmingham, Alabama) [thru 9.14]

Seymour Apple Festival (Seymour, Missouri) [thru 9.14]

St. John Parish Applefest (Fenton, Michigan) [thru 9.15]

Tunbridge World's Fair (Tunbridge, Vermont) [thru 9.15]

viennacontemporary (Vienna, Austria) [thru 9.15]

Vintage & Vine (Portsmouth, New Hampshire)

Wormtown Music Festival (Greenfield, Massachusetts) [thru 9.15]

Feast Days

Ailbe (a.k.a. Elvis or Eilfyw) of Emly (Christian; Saint)

Anselm Feuerbach (Artology)

Athanasius (Christian; Saint)

Bassian of Tikhsnen in Vologda (Christian; Saint)

Ben Shahn (Artology)

Buzz Crescendo (Muppetism)

Carl Eytel (Artology)

Charles Dudley Warner (Writerism)

Daniel of Thassius (Christian; Saint)

Day of Ishtar and TammuzI (Pagan)

Ebontius (Christian; Saint)

Eanswide (Christian; Saint)

Feast of Atabei (Goddess Mother; Tainos, West Indies)

The Feast of the Holy Name of Mary (14th century Christian)

Freymóður Jóhannsson (Artology)

Gahambar Paitishahen begins (Zoroastrian)

Guy of Anderlecht (Christian; Saint)

Hieromartyr Autonomous, Bishop of Iconium (Christian; Saint)

H.L. Mencken (Writerism)

The Most Holy Name of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Christian)

John Henry Hobart (Episcopal Church (USA))

Julian of Galatia and His 40 Martyrs (Christian; Martyrs)

Laisrén mac Nad Froích (Christian; Saint)

Macedonios, Tatian, and Theodoulos (Christian; Martyrs)

Martyrdom of Imam Hasan Askari (Iran)

Michael Ondaatje (Writerism)

Milo Manara (Artology)

Nakedness Appreciation Day (Pastafarian)

Personal Harvest Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Robert Irwin (Artology)

Rojas (Positivist; Saint)

Rush to Judgement Day (Church of the SubGenius)

Saragarhi Day (Sikhism)

Sacerdos of Lyon (Christian; Saint)

Stanisław Lem (Writerism)

The 3 Things Kings Don’t Share Day (Treasure, Hawk & Thief (a.k.a. His Taxman) Celtic Book of Days)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Lucky Day (Philippines) [50 of 71]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

The Archaeology of Knowledge and The Discourse on Language, by Michel Foucault (Science Book; 1969)

Birds in Love (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1936)

Black Sea, by XTC (Album; 1980)

Bonanza (TV Series; 1959)

Bony Marine, recorded by Larry Williams (Song; 1957)

Burgled Bullwinkle or The Moose Nappers (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S3, Ep. 107; 1961)

Burn After Reading (Film; 2008)

The Busy Barber (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1932)

The Case of the Cockeyed Canary (Noveltoons Cartoon; 1958)

The Cat in the Hat Comes Back, by Dr. Seuss (Children’s Book; 1958)

Charlie Chan in London (Film; 1934)

Chips Off the Old Block (MGM Cartoon; 1942)

Circus, by Lenny Kravitz (Album; 1995)

A Crown for Bullwinkle or Monarch Moose (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S3, Ep. 108; 1961)

Death Magnetic, by Metallica (Album; 2008)

Donald and Pluto (Disney Cartoon; 1936)

Family Affair (TV Series; 1966)

Feast and Furious (Noveltoons Cartoon; 1958)

A Fly Went By, by Mike McClintock (Children’s Book; 1958)

FutureSex: LoveSounds, by Justin Timberlake (Album; 2006)

Hope, by Klaatu (Album; 1977)

I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, by Hannah Green (Novel: 1963)

I Put a Spell on You, recorded by Screaming’ Jay Hawkins (Song; 1956)

Jack the Giant Killer (Ub Iwerks Laugh-O-Grams Cartoon; 1922)

Lost in Translation (Film; 2003)

Love Is a Battlefield, by Pat Benatar (Song; 1983)

Malice Aforethought, by Francis Iles (Novel; 1931)

Maroon, by Barenaked Ladies (Album; 2000)

Mastering the Art of French Cooking, by Julia Child (Cookbook; 1961)

Millennium Actress (Anime Film; 2003)

The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, by Lauryn Hill (Album; 1998)

The Monkees (TV Series; 1966)

The Mystery of the Lizard Men (Animated TV Show; Jonny Quest #1; 1964)

Never Bug An Ant (And & the Aardvark Cartoon; 1969)

North, by Matchbox Twenty (Album; 2012)

Old MacDonald Duck (Disney Cartoon; 1941)

Once Upon a Time in Mexico (Film; 2003)

Party of Five (TV Series; 1994)

Peaky Blinders (TV Series; 2013)

Popeye and the Pirates (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1947)

Porky’s Moving Day (WB LT Cartoon; 1936)

Protector (Known Space), by Larry Niven (Novel; 1973)

Pump, by Aerosmith (Album; 1989)

Rabbit Is Rich, by John Updike (Novel: 1981) [Rabbit #3]

The Rat Patrol (TV Series; 1966)

The Royal Four-Flusher (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1947)

Showtime at the Apollo (TV Series; 1987)

The Skeleton Twins (Film; 2014)

The Smurfs (Animated TV Series; 1981)

Symphony No. 8 in E-Flat Major (a.k.a. Symphony of A Thousand), by Gustav Mahler (Symphony; 1910)

Tarzan of the Apes (Radio Series; 1932)

Taxi (TV Series; 1978)

Through the Past, Darkly, by The Rolling Stones (Album; 1969)

The Try Guys (YouTube Show; 2014)

Tweety’s High-Flying Adventure (WB Animated Film; 2000)

The Village Specialist (Ub Iwerks Flip the Frog MGM Cartoon; 1931)

Walkin’ on Wall Street (Money Rock Cartoon; Schoolhouse Rock; 1996)

Welcome to the Black Parade, by My Chemical Romance (Song; 2006)

Wish You Were Here, by Pink Floyd (Album; 1975)

The World of Atom Ant and Secret Squirrel (Hanna Barbera Animated TV Special; 1965)

+, by Ed Sheeran (Album; 2011)

Today’s Name Days

Eberhard, Gerfried, Guido, Maria (Austria)

Dubravko, Marija (Croatia)

Marie (Czech Republic)

Guido (Denmark)

Meeli, Meelike, Meila, Meili, Melanie, Mella, Melli (Estonia)

Valma, Vilja (Finland)

Apollinaire (France)

Gerfried, Maria Manen (Germany)

Mária (Hungary)

Cesarea, Maria (Italy)

Albins, Erna, Eva, Evita, Selga (Latvia)

Gvidas, Marija, Tolvaldas, Vaidmantė (Lithuania)

Jofrid, Jorid (Norway)

Amadeusz, Amedeusz, Cyrus, Gwidon, Maria, Piotr, Radzimir, Sylwin (Poland)

Autonóm (Romania)

Mária (Slovakia)

Estíbaliz, María (Spain)

Åsa, Åslög (Sweden)

Aloise, Aloysia, Guido, Guy (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 256 of 2024; 110 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 4 of Week 37 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Muin (Vine) [Day 12 of 28]

Chinese: Month 8 (Guy-You), Day 10 (Ji-Mao)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 9 Elul 5784

Islamic: 8 Rabi I 1446

J Cal: 16 Gold; Twosday [16 of 30]

Julian: 30 August 2024

Moon: 65%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 4 Shakespeare (10th Month) [Otway]

Runic Half Month: Ken (Illumination) [Day 6 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 85 of 94)

Week: 2nd Full Week of September

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 22 of 32)

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 9.12

Holidays

Alligator Awareness Day

Amilcar Cabral Day (Guinea Bissau)

Bass Tuba Day

Battle of Vienna Anniversary Day

Burlesque Day

Cedar Tree Day (Lebanon)

Cinema Day (Iran)

Cleopatra’s Needle Day (UK)

Commercial Motor Vehicle Driver Appreciation Day

Day of Conception (a.k.a. Procreation Day; Russia)

Day of the Land Forces (Poland)

Day of the Programmer

Defender's Day (Maryland)

Diocletian New Year

Disability Awareness Day (UK)

Eleven Days of Global Unity, Day 2: Interdependence

End Digital Poverty Day (UK)

Enkutatash (Ethiopia, Rastafari) [Leap Years; 1st Day of Mäskäräm]

European Migraine Day of Action

Family Contact Day (Russia)

Goldenrod Day (French Republic)

Hey, Hey, It’s The Monkees Day

International Cinema Day

International Crochet Day

International Day for South-South Cooperation (UN)

Investigative Committee Day (Belarus)

Jesse Owens Day (Ohio)

Keddus Johannes (Geez New Year; Eritrea)

Lomia Asteroid Day

Marathon Day

Mindfulness Day

National Day (Cape Verde)

National Day of Civic Hacking

National Day of Encouragement

National Dementia Carers Day (UK)

National Flexible Working Day

National Hug and High Five Day

National Ink and Toner Day

Nationality Day (Cape Verde Islands)

National Just One Human Family Day

National Police Woman Day

National Programmers Day

National Reading Group Day

National Report Medicare Fraud Day

National Taylor Day

National Video Games Day

912 Day (Savannah)

Olympia Asteroid Day

Pioneers Day (Rhodesia)

Porsche 912 Day

Ruhnama Day (Book of the Soul; Turkmenistan)

Riglametha (Elder Scrolls)

Saint Patrick’s Battalion Mass Hanging Commemoration (Mexico)

Saragarhi Day (India)

Stand Up Against Bullying Day (Nova Scotia)

Steve Biko Day (South Africa)

Thank a Programmer Day

World Dolphin Day

World Goalball Day

World Rubber Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Chocolate Milkshake Day

National Blackberry Day (UK)

National Juicy Lucy Day

Popcorn Day

Independence & Related Days

ISTER Princedom (Declared; 2019) [unrecognized]

Revolution Day (Ethiopia)

2nd Thursday in September

MPN Awareness Day [2nd Thursday]

National Day of the Working Parent [2nd Thursday]

National School Picture Day [2nd Thursday]

R U OK? Day (Australia) [2nd Thursday]

Stop a Suicide Today [Thursday of the Week including the 10th]

Thirsty Thursday [Every Thursday]

Thoughtful Thursday [2nd Thursday of Each Month]

Three for Thursday [Every Thursday]

Thrift Store Thursday [Every Thursday]

Throwback Thursday [Every Thursday]

Toast Thursday [2nd Thursday of Each Month]

United Tribes International PowWow begins (Thru Sunday; North Dakota) [Thursday after 1st Monday]

Weekly Holidays beginning September 12 (2nd Full Week of September)

National Write Your Book in a Weekend Weekends [thru 9.15] (also in Feb, Apr & Nov)

Festivals Beginning September 12, 2024

Agricultural Fair (New Portland, Maine) [thru 9.15]

Annapolis Songwriters Festival (Annapolis, Maryland) [thru 9.15]

Atlanta Food & Wine Festival (Atlanta, Georgia) [thru 9.15]

Bandon Cranberry Festival (Bandon, Oregon) [thru 9.13]

Blair Cheese Festival (Blair, Wisconsin) [thru 9.15]

Budapest Wine Festival (Budapest, Hungary) [thru 9.15]

Chicago Jazz Getaway (Chicago, Illinois) [thru 9.15]

Feast of San Gennaro (New York, New York) [thru 9.22]

GOGBOT (Enschede, Netherlands)

GrapeFest (Grapevine, Texas) [thru 9.15]

Ig Nobel Prize Ceremony (Cambridge, Massachusetts)

Kyiv International Short Film Festival (Kyiv, Ukraine) [thru 9.18]

Lodi Grape Festival (Lodi, California) [thru 9.15]

Odesa Classics (Ghent, Belgium)

Oklahoma State Fair (Oklahoma City, Oklahoma) [thru 9.22]

Saint George's Annual Middle Eastern Food Festival (Birmingham, Alabama) [thru 9.14]

Seymour Apple Festival (Seymour, Missouri) [thru 9.14]

St. John Parish Applefest (Fenton, Michigan) [thru 9.15]

Tunbridge World's Fair (Tunbridge, Vermont) [thru 9.15]

viennacontemporary (Vienna, Austria) [thru 9.15]

Vintage & Vine (Portsmouth, New Hampshire)

Wormtown Music Festival (Greenfield, Massachusetts) [thru 9.15]

Feast Days

Ailbe (a.k.a. Elvis or Eilfyw) of Emly (Christian; Saint)

Anselm Feuerbach (Artology)

Athanasius (Christian; Saint)

Bassian of Tikhsnen in Vologda (Christian; Saint)

Ben Shahn (Artology)

Buzz Crescendo (Muppetism)

Carl Eytel (Artology)

Charles Dudley Warner (Writerism)

Daniel of Thassius (Christian; Saint)

Day of Ishtar and TammuzI (Pagan)

Ebontius (Christian; Saint)

Eanswide (Christian; Saint)

Feast of Atabei (Goddess Mother; Tainos, West Indies)

The Feast of the Holy Name of Mary (14th century Christian)

Freymóður Jóhannsson (Artology)

Gahambar Paitishahen begins (Zoroastrian)

Guy of Anderlecht (Christian; Saint)

Hieromartyr Autonomous, Bishop of Iconium (Christian; Saint)

H.L. Mencken (Writerism)

The Most Holy Name of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Christian)

John Henry Hobart (Episcopal Church (USA))

Julian of Galatia and His 40 Martyrs (Christian; Martyrs)

Laisrén mac Nad Froích (Christian; Saint)

Macedonios, Tatian, and Theodoulos (Christian; Martyrs)

Martyrdom of Imam Hasan Askari (Iran)

Michael Ondaatje (Writerism)

Milo Manara (Artology)

Nakedness Appreciation Day (Pastafarian)

Personal Harvest Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Robert Irwin (Artology)

Rojas (Positivist; Saint)

Rush to Judgement Day (Church of the SubGenius)

Saragarhi Day (Sikhism)

Sacerdos of Lyon (Christian; Saint)

Stanisław Lem (Writerism)

The 3 Things Kings Don’t Share Day (Treasure, Hawk & Thief (a.k.a. His Taxman) Celtic Book of Days)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Lucky Day (Philippines) [50 of 71]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

The Archaeology of Knowledge and The Discourse on Language, by Michel Foucault (Science Book; 1969)

Birds in Love (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1936)

Black Sea, by XTC (Album; 1980)

Bonanza (TV Series; 1959)

Bony Marine, recorded by Larry Williams (Song; 1957)

Burgled Bullwinkle or The Moose Nappers (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S3, Ep. 107; 1961)

Burn After Reading (Film; 2008)

The Busy Barber (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1932)

The Case of the Cockeyed Canary (Noveltoons Cartoon; 1958)

The Cat in the Hat Comes Back, by Dr. Seuss (Children’s Book; 1958)

Charlie Chan in London (Film; 1934)

Chips Off the Old Block (MGM Cartoon; 1942)

Circus, by Lenny Kravitz (Album; 1995)

A Crown for Bullwinkle or Monarch Moose (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S3, Ep. 108; 1961)

Death Magnetic, by Metallica (Album; 2008)

Donald and Pluto (Disney Cartoon; 1936)

Family Affair (TV Series; 1966)

Feast and Furious (Noveltoons Cartoon; 1958)

A Fly Went By, by Mike McClintock (Children’s Book; 1958)

FutureSex: LoveSounds, by Justin Timberlake (Album; 2006)

Hope, by Klaatu (Album; 1977)

I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, by Hannah Green (Novel: 1963)

I Put a Spell on You, recorded by Screaming’ Jay Hawkins (Song; 1956)

Jack the Giant Killer (Ub Iwerks Laugh-O-Grams Cartoon; 1922)

Lost in Translation (Film; 2003)

Love Is a Battlefield, by Pat Benatar (Song; 1983)

Malice Aforethought, by Francis Iles (Novel; 1931)

Maroon, by Barenaked Ladies (Album; 2000)

Mastering the Art of French Cooking, by Julia Child (Cookbook; 1961)

Millennium Actress (Anime Film; 2003)

The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, by Lauryn Hill (Album; 1998)

The Monkees (TV Series; 1966)

The Mystery of the Lizard Men (Animated TV Show; Jonny Quest #1; 1964)

Never Bug An Ant (And & the Aardvark Cartoon; 1969)

North, by Matchbox Twenty (Album; 2012)

Old MacDonald Duck (Disney Cartoon; 1941)

Once Upon a Time in Mexico (Film; 2003)

Party of Five (TV Series; 1994)

Peaky Blinders (TV Series; 2013)

Popeye and the Pirates (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1947)

Porky’s Moving Day (WB LT Cartoon; 1936)

Protector (Known Space), by Larry Niven (Novel; 1973)

Pump, by Aerosmith (Album; 1989)

Rabbit Is Rich, by John Updike (Novel: 1981) [Rabbit #3]

The Rat Patrol (TV Series; 1966)

The Royal Four-Flusher (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1947)

Showtime at the Apollo (TV Series; 1987)

The Skeleton Twins (Film; 2014)

The Smurfs (Animated TV Series; 1981)

Symphony No. 8 in E-Flat Major (a.k.a. Symphony of A Thousand), by Gustav Mahler (Symphony; 1910)

Tarzan of the Apes (Radio Series; 1932)

Taxi (TV Series; 1978)

Through the Past, Darkly, by The Rolling Stones (Album; 1969)

The Try Guys (YouTube Show; 2014)

Tweety’s High-Flying Adventure (WB Animated Film; 2000)

The Village Specialist (Ub Iwerks Flip the Frog MGM Cartoon; 1931)

Walkin’ on Wall Street (Money Rock Cartoon; Schoolhouse Rock; 1996)

Welcome to the Black Parade, by My Chemical Romance (Song; 2006)

Wish You Were Here, by Pink Floyd (Album; 1975)

The World of Atom Ant and Secret Squirrel (Hanna Barbera Animated TV Special; 1965)

+, by Ed Sheeran (Album; 2011)

Today’s Name Days

Eberhard, Gerfried, Guido, Maria (Austria)

Dubravko, Marija (Croatia)

Marie (Czech Republic)

Guido (Denmark)

Meeli, Meelike, Meila, Meili, Melanie, Mella, Melli (Estonia)

Valma, Vilja (Finland)

Apollinaire (France)

Gerfried, Maria Manen (Germany)

Mária (Hungary)

Cesarea, Maria (Italy)

Albins, Erna, Eva, Evita, Selga (Latvia)

Gvidas, Marija, Tolvaldas, Vaidmantė (Lithuania)

Jofrid, Jorid (Norway)

Amadeusz, Amedeusz, Cyrus, Gwidon, Maria, Piotr, Radzimir, Sylwin (Poland)

Autonóm (Romania)

Mária (Slovakia)

Estíbaliz, María (Spain)

Åsa, Åslög (Sweden)

Aloise, Aloysia, Guido, Guy (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 256 of 2024; 110 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 4 of Week 37 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Muin (Vine) [Day 12 of 28]

Chinese: Month 8 (Guy-You), Day 10 (Ji-Mao)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 9 Elul 5784

Islamic: 8 Rabi I 1446

J Cal: 16 Gold; Twosday [16 of 30]

Julian: 30 August 2024

Moon: 65%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 4 Shakespeare (10th Month) [Otway]

Runic Half Month: Ken (Illumination) [Day 6 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 85 of 94)

Week: 2nd Full Week of September

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 22 of 32)

[awesomeforever]

Morehead City, North Carolina — Star Rods has now been used to break more than 250 world and state fishing records since the brand launched nearly 40 years ago. Nash County local Logan Ennis is the latest record breaker. On Monday, January 2nd, Logan along with his son Jackson and a family friend were sea bass fishing along the Morehead City coast near Cape Lookout. Weather conditions were slightly overcast with fair temperatures as Logan and his companions spent the day telling jokes and doing what they love. Logan was reeling in what he thought would be another sea bass, but was surprised to find a white grunt attached to his squid baited hook. He describes how he didn’t expect to see a grunt on that particular day, as he was only thinking about how to catch a sea bass, a fish he was accustomed to finding on these trips. “It was the biggest grunt I’ve ever seen”, describes Logan. Logan was using an extra heavy action Star Rod Aerial Jigging rod (EXJ66XH) with 150-pound braid on a Daiwa Saltist 35HG reel when he caught his sensational grunt. He tells us that “all [his] bottom fishing rods are Star Rods” and that he can best describe Star Rods as “quality products at quality prices.” (function($) function bsaProResize() var sid = "1"; var object = $(".bsaProContainer-" + sid + " .bsaProItemInner__img"); var animateThumb = $(".bsaProContainer-" + sid + " .bsaProAnimateThumb"); var innerThumb = $(".bsaProContainer-" + sid + " .bsaProItemInner__thumb"); var parentWidth = "2560"; var parentHeight = "1024"; var objectWidth = object.width(); if ( objectWidth 0 && objectWidth != 100 && scale > 0 ) animateThumb.height(parentHeight * scale); innerThumb.height(parentHeight * scale); object.height(parentHeight * scale); else animateThumb.height(parentHeight); innerThumb.height(parentHeight); object.height(parentHeight); else animateThumb.height(parentHeight); innerThumb.height(parentHeight); object.height(parentHeight); $(document).ready(function() bsaProResize(); $(window).resize(function() bsaProResize(); ); ); })(jQuery); (function ($) var bsaProContainer = $('.bsaProContainer-1'); var number_show_ads = "0"; var number_hide_ads = "0"; if ( number_show_ads > 0 ) setTimeout(function () bsaProContainer.fadeIn(); , number_show_ads * 1000); if ( number_hide_ads > 0 ) setTimeout(function () bsaProContainer.fadeOut(); , number_hide_ads * 1000); )(jQuery); But, not knowing the quality of his fish was another story. Logan tells how he really didn’t even think twice about the fish, “de-hooking it and tossing it to the side.” Though he figured it was just another common grunt, Logan’s buddy sure didn’t, and encouraged him to take it for an official weigh in the next day at Chasin’ Tails in Atlantic Beach, NC. To Logan’s surprise, the kind folks at Chasin’ Tails let him know that he was on his way to the North Carolina state record. The Star Rods family is immensely happy for Logan, and are even happier that his son, Jackson Ennis, was with him to experience this awesome event. Here at Star Rods and Calcutta Outdoors, one of our core values is to ensure that the next generation has access to fishing. We pride ourselves on sharing the knowledge of fishing as well as our love of the sport with our young anglers. “One of our main principles here at Star is to engage the next generation in fishing. It’s a great thing to see them enjoy fishing together as much as I do with my sons. That’s why we were excited to send Jackson a new Star Rod. We hope you will use it alongside your dad with pride”, says Chris Pardue, Sr. Brand and Category Manager for Calcutta Outdoors and Star Rods. Logan’s white grunt weighed four pounds and 13.

6 ounces, a total of 5.6 ounces heavier than the current state record, which was caught off Cape Lookout in 1969. Logan describes how if he had not waited a day to take the fish to be weighed, “it could have easily been five pounds.” Right after being weighed, Chasin’ Tails sent Logan straight over to see the NC Division of Fisheries, who certified the record-breaking catch. One of the most interesting facts about white grunts is where a white grunt gets its name – white grunts make a grunting noise in their throat when they feel upset or scared. This sound is made by using their pharyngeal teeth and air bladder. White grunts are a species of ray-finned fish native to the western Atlantic Ocean and there are a total of 150 different grunt fishes in the world. However, the question remains – can you eat white grunt? The answer is yes, and the flavor is described as mild but tasty. The white grunt is even featured in a historic Florida dish ‘grits and grunts’, where it is served as a panfish. This dish came about because of the commonality of the white grunt in Florida. Star Rods produces high quality, hand-crafted fishing rods at an affordable price. Manufactured in small production runs one at a time, Star Fishing Tackle builds custom-style rods with maximum value. Today, Star Rods are known as the rods that break the IGFA World Records – tough, high quality, durable rods designed for the discriminating fishermen. They’re sold through knowledgeable, experienced dealers who can offer expert advice on local fishing conditions to help you select the perfect rod for your needs. Find out more at StarFishingTackle.com. Calcutta Outdoors is a leading global designer and manufacturer of consumer products for the outdoor sports and recreation market. We provide consumers with a wide range of performance-driven, innovative products, including fishing equipment, sunglasses, coolers, drinkware, outdoor apparel, hunting accessories, paddle sports and marine accessories. We are dedicated to helping people enjoy the outdoors. Our goal is to deliver products that embrace the value of hard work and allow people to maximize their free time outdoors. No matter what type of recreation, we want to make the outdoor experience more enjoyable and productive. Calcutta Outdoors brand portfolio includes Calcutta, Celcius, Danielson, HQ Outfitters, Hurricane, Invincible Marine, Kunnan, Matzuo, Propel Paddle Gear, Ready 2 Fish, Sea Striker, Shoreline, South Bend and Star Rods. Learn more at CalcuttaOutdoorsLLC.com. Hit enter to search or ESC to close. source

[senorboombastic]

Hey, have you heard about…Mt. Yonder

Words: Andy Hughes Featuring members past and present from Blakfish, The Broken Oak Duet, &U&I, Shapes and The Cape of Good Hope, it’s fair to say we were a wee bit eager to hear the first rumblings from new outfit Mt. Yonder! Showing up on social media at the start of the year, one photo was enough to get us enthused. Bringing together Steve Bachelor (guitar), Gavin Filmer (bass), Howard Kenny…

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader) - Ch. 3

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / smut / oral sex / f receiving

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

The hypnotic bass and Zemo's enthusiastic dance moves almost got you carried away. But over the bouncing crowd, you saw Sharon, Bucky, and Sam on the stairs, looking for you.

“Shit,” you mumbled, breaking the trance. “We gotta go.”

Zemo followed your line of sight and turned to lead you back to the group in silence. You try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“We found him,” Sharon yelled over the music upon your approach.

The five of you went over the plan for tomorrow back in Sharon’s suite. You doubted that even with your experience, you could’ve found Dr. Nagel without Sharon's help. In the states, it was easy to pick a needle out of a haystack, because you always knew what you were looking for. But here, everyone was a criminal. Uncharted territory where you had to find the sharpest needle amongst thousands.

“You good?”

Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts. You looked up and noticed the dissipating group. Sharon showed Bucky to his room, and Zemo sat with his eyes glued to a book on the couch. Only Sam remained standing in front of you, looking like he was about to pass out.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Go get some sleep. You look terrible.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “We gotta get the hell out of here. Madripoor has aged me at least ten years.”

“Me too. I miss places where being a criminal makes you the odd one out, not the other way around.”

“Goody two-shoes,” he teased before turning to find his room.

Sharon waved him on from down the hall and they got back into it about her pardon and what she’d missed in the states.

Your attention shifted to the only other person in the room. Zemo’s eyes wasted no time abandoning his book and landing on you as soon as you were alone.

“The Odyssey,” you asked, pointing to his book. “I didn’t take you for someone who enjoys fiction.”

He smiled at the attention and made room for you on the couch.

“I often find that there are elements of truth in every fantasy. The human spirit is sometimes better examined by poets than by professors. This, for instance, is a brilliant study on heroes.”

“Hmm, studying heroes? An attempt to know thy enemy?”

He laughed and turned to you with his elbow up on the back of the couch, bringing him less than a foot away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the lights down the hall go out. There were no interruptions, or easy outs, now. All that was left was you, and the only man who’d ever made you truly nervous.

“Y/N, if you were in Odysseus’s place, content and immortal, would you give it up to go back home?”

“You’re asking me if I’d abandon my legacy and family to shack up on an island with some mistress?”

He chuckled and nodded in approval. “Very wise. But what does he gain by leaving? Struggle? Hardship? Mortality?”

You tilted your head to match his. “Are you telling me that you’d stay on the island?”

His expression shifted for the first time since you’d stepped foot in Madripoor. The overconfident, smirking Baron dissolved into a man.

A man who hid the sense of riotousness that he carried with dramatic flair. A man whose charm and wit seemed fabricated.

This man now, fighting off sleepy eyes and grappling with the moral quandary posed, seemed burdened. You wondered if his quest for justice would ever get to be too much. After all the destruction he’d caused, could he still see himself as the exactor of fairness? Were the Avengers still his enemy? Were you?

“No,” he confessed looking down at the copy in his hands.

Your lips twitched but you didn’t smile. “You’d make the hard choice — the hero’s choice if it came down to it.”

He looked almost somber at your words and nodded.

“In another life…perhaps.”

His voice wavered, almost as if he regretted saying it out loud. The briefing that Sam and Bucky had given you about him flashed in your mind.

A hero's choice was the right thing to do; the hard thing to do. You knew that he was a soldier before everything happened. Just like you.

Was that not a hero’s choice?

He tore the Avengers apart in an attempt to stitch up his own heart. An eye for an eye. Avenging his country because its destruction had been glossed over by the world. His loss fueled his anger but he was more capable than most. A man without armor, or mystical abilities was able to wreak havoc on those who had wronged him.

Was that heroism?

If losing those you love didn’t permit revenge, you weren't sure what did.

He broke the silence by tapping his knuckle on the book.

“It is the perfect testament to the valiance of heroes,” he continued. "But, I must say that the wisest thing Odysseus did was marry his wife.”

You laughed and nodded, remembering how she saved the day. Without her, Odysseus’s homecoming would’ve been much more perilous for him.

“I often find that behind every great man is an even better woman.”

He smirked and didn’t miss a beat. “Like you with…your Avengers.”

“I stand beside them,” you corrected.

He raised an eyebrow and waved a hand. “Semantics."

You gave him an eye roll in return.

He smiled then, wider than you had ever seen. It almost made him seem shy. Perhaps it was because he was making a genuine point, masked in humor.

You were well aware of your importance to this mission and yet burdened by the fact that it didn’t make you a member of their special club. When this was all over, you wouldn’t be an Avenger, or anywhere close. You’d go back to S.W.O.R.D to wait until called upon again. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but there was a pang of sadness there where the thought rested. It’d be a mistake to let Zemo know but it seemed to be too late.

“You’re making fun of me.”

His hand brushed yours. “No. I am merely expressing my concerns about your allegiances.”

Still aware of the small amount of alcohol left in your system, you looked away from his quirked moving lips.

“Enlighten me, Baron. What wrong decisions do you think I’m making?”

Frozen in place, you let him brush his fingers along your wrist to your arm. He took his time, tracing patterns on your skin and inspecting his work with an unwavering gaze. Only when his thumb caressed your cheek, and his hand landed on your neck did he look you in the eyes again. The air in your lungs was gone and your body betrayed you with a furious eruption of butterflies.

“Living a hero’s life,” he said somber-eyed and serious.

Your heart rate quickened. As if you’d learned nothing in S.W.O.R.D about manipulation, you were back to watching his lips. They parted slightly, as if he had something else to say but thought better of it.

A hero.

You didn't feel like one.

A sidekick, maybe. But even then, no one knew your name. No one sang your praises at home or breathed a sigh of relief knowing you were out there in the world fighting evil. It seemed that the only one who thought of you as more than an assistant was Zemo.

Your heart felt heavy then. The two of you were impossible. An inconceivable pair brought together by chance.

But that didn’t make his dark eyes any less enticing or his words any less intoxicating.

That didn’t make you any further from his lips.

He was a breath away, but so was your own destruction.

In another life, the island might tempt you.

“Look,” you said glancing past him to find something to change the subject. “It’s a full moon.”

Without sparing him another glance, you crossed the floor in four quick steps to the large windows. Never one to give up easily, you heard him follow close behind.

He beat you there and pushed open the glass door before gesturing towards the balcony in silence.

You looked down at your feet until the skyline drew your eyes. The plan to diffuse the tension had not worked in the slightest. The moonlit balcony overlooking the beautiful city had only made it worse.

You heard him stop a few feet from you and then settle on the lone armchair. The reality of the situation hit you like a train. Away from the windows, you had privacy. This high up no one would see you and everyone else was in bed. You'd meant to creep out of the lion's den but instead, you'd locked yourself in.

“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to,” Zemo mused from behind you.

“Carl Sanburg,” you confirmed, so he knew you didn't think he'd made it up.

Both of you were silent then. Swaying in the tension you'd built. Sanity pulling you back inside, inexplicable hope keeping you planted in place.

“Are you lonely, Baron?”

The words fell from your lips more delicate and intimate than you had meant them to. You let slip that you cared about his answer. That you might even care to cure him of the ailment.

“Me? No.”

You turned and scoffed.

“Liar. You were in a cell for years and you hardly talk to anyone now that you’re out.”

He leaned back in the chair, arms on either rest and a leg crossed with the ankle of his right knee. His demeanor was harmless in the same way that a predator poised to pounce was. Elegant, still, and ready for the kill.

“Not true,” he corrected. “I talk to you.”

“One person isn’t enough,” you said, taking a step closer.

Were you walking into disaster? Or being pulled? You couldn't tell the difference between his seduction and your own reckless desires any longer.

“The right person though…can be,” he half-whispered. “And you, Y/N, are more than I deserve.”

He gazed up at you from the chair. Kings throughout history, in war-won golden thrones and elegant capes, paled in comparisons to how regal he looked. Anointed with a crown of moonlight, ruling over whomever he pleased.

Your eyes widened with the admission. “Baron — ”

“Helmut, please.” He stood then and met you near the railing, his hand grazing your hip. “Only if for tonight.”

You shook your head, knowing this was a bad idea. His hand made its way to your waist regardless. He pulled you against his chest before searching your eyes for any signal that you were going to run. You knew he’d find nothing. You knew you mirrored his look of lust with blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Have I gone too far,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to brush loose hair behind your ear.

“No,” you sighed, letting him pull you closer and brush his lips to your cheek and jaw.

“Tell me if I do,” he whispered again before finally capturing your lips with his.

You uttered no complaints as his tentative kiss turned bruising and possessive. His arms wound around your waist, crushing you into him. But you needed to feel closer. He grunted as you sprung to action, flinging your arms around his neck, deepening the desperate kiss. He tasted like whiskey and something sweet. A cool breeze brushed against the exposed parts of your body. You let your hands wander beneath his coat, chasing warmth and proximity. He let you do as you please, only insisting that his lips stayed on yours.

You let out a whimper as his hand explored the front of your dress. He stopped to press his warm hand against your breast, before holding your face.

It was then that he pulled away, steadying your searching lips with a grip on your chin.

“Ich esse nicht,” he sighed, kissing a pattern to your ear. “Ich schlafe nicht, ich tue nichts anderes, als an dich zu denken.”

His teeth grazed your pulse point, leaving you gasping for air.

“I don’t speak German,” you managed to stutter out.

A hand slid up the back of your dress, gripping the zipper before undoing it in one swift motion and the fabric fell to the floor. The cool air seized your naked torso for only a moment before Zemo pressed himself against you again. The coat you’d complained about before, now provided warmth and security. You tipped your head back, almost over the edge of the balcony as he continued worshipping your neck and chest.

“I don’t eat, I don’t sleep,” he said between wet open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. His hot mouth left purple spots that cooled instantly in the chilly night air.

“I do nothing but think of you,” he finished before toying with your hardened nipple between his teeth.

You moaned then, louder than you should’ve, and let your eyes flutter open. The world was upside-down but you made no motion to move. You were making Madripoor proud by being pressed up against a balcony by an international criminal.

Utterly pleased with himself, Zemo raised his face back towards yours, leaning you both over the edge.

“Shhh liebling,” he cooed.

He pulled you back over, kissing your shoulder before removing his jacket and draping it over you. Each brush of his lips feeling more improper than the last.

“We would not want your friends to see you like this.”

In the next second, he swept you off of your feet and hoisted you into his strong arms. You watched the world sway around you and then settle when he placed you on the lounge chair, letting you get some warmth back from the coat and cushions.

He draped one of your legs over an armrest, exposing you to him except for a thin pair of underwear.

“Not with you spread open for me,” he growled. He towered over you for only a moment before kneeling between your legs. The man whose stature made him the tallest amongst giants; the most important in any room he chose, knelt before you.

“What would they say,” he mumbled in a trace. His hands gripped both of your thighs, causing an eruption of goosebumps across your whole body. “If they saw you like this, with me?”

He looked up at you then, raising an eyebrow, and tracing the inside of your thigh with his thumb.

You answered him breathlessly. “They’d tell you to stop.”

“And what would you say to that?”

His voice sent shockwaves through your system. Dark and sultry, with a hint of danger. You threw your head back again, barely able to keep a single thought straight. Your body shuddered but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the need for his touch. When you looked back to him, he was surveying your body with the hunger of a starved wolf.

“Would you want me to stop?” His voice was gentle and sweet then, asking in earnest.

“Meine Liebe," he taunted you for consent as he flashed a smirk and pulled something from his pocket.

Cold metal grazed your thigh. A moan escaped your throat as he unsheathed a serrated knife and caressed your skin with the dull side.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop,” you gasped, almost vibrating with anticipation. “I don’t want you to stop — Helmut — please don’t stop.”

He chucked again, before focusing his attention on the area between your legs. You bucked slightly as the icy knife slid underneath the fabric. He made one strong slash upwards and you felt the fabric fall away from your wet core. One of his hands gripped your ass, but only for a second before he tore the rest of the fabric from your body.

“How could I ever withhold something from you, liebling?” His nose grazed your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. It was only a moment before you felt his breath between your legs.

“How cruel it would be,” he growled. You moaned and slapped a hand over your mouth as he kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves. “To not give you everything.”

His tongue swirled against you in a tantalizing pattern, stroking you deliciously. He licked you methodically like he was reading the blueprint of your body right then and there. He held each thigh in a punishing grip, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he made a meal of you. The stars above your head blurred and the universe shifted.

If this was your destruction then it was illustrious. You'd do it over and over again until you landed in a cell right next to him.

“Helmut,” you whined with a heaving chest.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled between flicks of his tongue. “And it is yours.”

You would’ve begged him to let you cum but he beat you to it, making your back arch and mouth fall open in ecstasy. You trembled beneath him, over and over, but he didn’t let up. Your legs strained from being extended by his unflinching hands. You tried to stutter something out to him but no sound came except for content sighs and haphazard gasps. But his eyes remained closed regardless of the noise.

Without his mouth on you, he would’ve been mistakable for a good Christian, deep in prayer. Brow's furrowed in focus and devotion; lips moving in silent divine appeals. Only he could make you feel worthy of an alter. You couldn't picture anyone ever worshipping you in the same way again. It was his, you thought. I am his.

Lost in pleasure and shock, you reached up to run your nails against his scalp. Only then did he release you, and raise to meet your waiting lips as they trembled.

“You,” was all you could manage to whisper. “Only you.”

He pulled you from the seat, to wrap your legs around him. You brought your forehead to his and let him pepper you with chaste kisses.

“When I have you,” he said, before pulling the coat around you again. “It will be in a proper bed.”

You stared at him, confused and overwhelmed. The space between your legs ached with a longing to be filled but he let your legs fall away, and stood up.

“We can’t…I mean not now — they’ll hear.”

Zemo smiled and nodded while looking for something on the ground. After a moment of searching, he picked up the torn pieces of the red underwear you had been wearing. Before you could retrieve it, he pocketed the shorn fabric and stared you straight in the eyes.

“Worry not, Y/N,” he purred, reaching a hand out to help you up. “We have all the time in the world.”

[trekkedin]

Vlà un ptit aperçu de la fic sur laquelle je travaille: 

— Quand je pense qu’ils étaient à cinq mètres de moi. 

Léodagan était assis sur une souche, les yeux fixés sur les flammes dansantes qui jetaient des reflets roux dans ses cheveux gris. Arthur lui jeta un coup d’oeil au-dessus du feu de camp. Autour d’eux, les soldats s’affairaient à préparer leur départ, les uns rassemblant leurs armes, les autres répétant le plan d’attaque. Il resserra sa cape noir autour de ses épaules. Le vent était froid dans la nuit déjà bien avancée. 

— À quinze contre un, vous auriez pas pu faire grand-chose, dit-il. Et puis, vous étiez allés ramasser des fraises avec votre fille, vous auriez pas pu vous douter de ce qui se passerait. De toute façon, dès que les éclaireurs sont revenus, on part la chercher. Dans quelques heures, elle sera avec nous. 

Ce fut au tour de Léodagan de lui jeter un regard peu convaincu. 

— Vous dites ça pour vous rassurer vous, ou pour me rassurer moi ? 

Arthur haussa les épaules. Il repoussa une longue mèche noire derrière son oreille. Avoir les cheveux longs n’était pas évident pour un chef de guerre, mais il n’avait pu se résoudre à les couper. Pas encore. 

— De toutes façons, si on la ramène pas, c’est votre femme qui ira la chercher elle-même. Déjà qu’il a fallu faire tout un cirque pour pas qu’elle nous suive. 

Léodagan hocha la tête. 

— D'ailleurs, je sais pas ce que vous avez prévu de faire de l’autre, dit-il à voix basse, le regard fixé sur les braises rougeoyantes, mais si vous le tuez pas, c’est moi qui m’en occupe. Remarquez, si on le ramène vivant au château, il va pas le rester très longtemps. Vous aurez beau mettre autant de gardes que vous voudrez, ça arrêtera pas ma femme. Et vous savez comme moi que, si on le laisse partir, il recommencera. 

Arthur resta silencieux, et Léodagan n’insista pas. Ils se tinrent compagnie en silence sous les étoiles, entourés par le bruissement des feuilles, les cris des bêtes sauvages, et la mélodie d’une armée qui se prépare. 

— De toutes façons, dès qu’on rentre, je lui colle un garde du corps aux miches, non négociable, finit par dire Léodagan. 

— C’est pas moi qui vais vous arrêter, acquiesça Arthur. On peut même lui en coller deux, si ça vous fait plaisir. 

Au sein d’une petite clairière perdue dans la forêt, non loin des ruines de ce qui fut, par le passé, Kaamelott, avait été érigé un camp de fortune. Il abritait les traditionnels traîtres, renégats, lâches et autres synonymes qui, non contents d’être toujours en vie, cherchaient un moyen de reprendre le pouvoir afin d’assouvir leur soif d’ambition pour les uns, et de continuer les vieilles habitudes pour les autres. 

— Non mais, sérieusement, vous la capturez, moi, à la limite, je veux bien, dit Loth avec un grand geste du bras en direction de Guenièvre pour appuyer ses propos. Vous voulez pas la ligoter, je peux comprendre. Mais la laissez  libre avec simplement les poignets pris dans une petite ficelle, vous m’excuserez, je trouve que ça fait un peu léger. Déjà qu’il a fallu qu’elle s’échappe et qu’on lui court après pour que vous acceptiez qu’on lui attache les chevilles ! 

À quelques mètres de lui, assise en tailleur au pied d’un hêtre, sa robe blanche souillée par la boue et déchirée par les branchages, Guenièvre le regardait d’un air furieux. Une épaisse corde enserrait ses poignets posés sur ses genoux. Autour d’elle, les quelques gardes blancs restés fidèles à Lancelot, et les soldats du royaume d’Orcanie s’affairaient à ranger le campement, alors que les premiers rayons du soleil perçaient déjà les nuages à l’Est.

— D'autant que, de mémoire, c’est pas des poignets ligotés qui l’ont empêché de disparaître la première fois, ajouta Galessin. 

— Non. 

La voix de Lancelot était ferme, et sans appel. Sa main se posa sur le pommeau de son épée, en clair avertissement de ne pas insister. Et pourtant, depuis que Guenièvre avait été ramenée au camp, il ne lui avait adressé ni un mot, ni un regard. 

— Ce que l’on peut faire, dit Mevanwi, les yeux posés sur son ancienne rivale qui soutint son regard sans vaciller, c’est l’enfermer dans une jolie petite cage. Comme ça, elle ne sera pas ligotée, ce sera d’autant plus dur pour Arthur et les autres de l’en sortir, et ça vous laisse le temps de décider quoi faire d’elle en attendant. 

— Quelle bonne idée ! s’exclama Guenièvre en levant les yeux au ciel. D’autant que j’ai l’habitude maintenant, après avoir passé dix ans enfermée dans une tour. 

Lancelot fronça les sourcils. 

— Quoi faire d’elle? Que voulez-vous dire? 

Mevanwi le regarda d’un air surpris. 

— Elle vous a quitté deux fois déjà, dit-elle. Si vous voulez laisser passer un affront pareil, libre à vous, mais que penseront vos hommes ? D’autant que, si vous reprenez le trône, il s’agira de faire un héritier cette fois. 

Elle se mit sur la pointe des pieds, prenant appui sur les épaules de Lancelot dans une moquerie d’embrassade. 

— Ou tenez-vous vraiment à ce que le peuple vous voit comme un souverain plus incapable encore que le précédant ? souffla-t-elle dans son oreille, avant que Lancelot ne la repousse d’un air empli de dégoût, et de mépris. 

— Ah ! dit Loth en faisant un pas en arrière, les mains levées en signe d’innocence. Là, mes amis, nous atteignons, une fois n’est pas coutume, une de mes rares limites. Capturer la reine, je veux bien, c’est un coup de bâtard, donc on reste dans la routine, si on veut. Mais si on commence à parler torture et autres joyeusetés, je vais devoir vous quitter. Non parce que, c’est pas que ça me gêne, hein. Boyaux, viscères, bûchers, soyons honnêtes, c’est la routine. Mais, dans l’hypothèse d’un échec, parce que, restons lucide, tout est possible. Dans l’hypothèse d’un échec, donc, je préfère être jugé pour avoir capturé la reine uniquement. Je doute fortement que la punition soit la même si le fils Pendragon la récupère, comment dire, 'abîmée', si vous voyez ce que je veux dire. 

— Surtout faites comme si j’était pas là, hein, dit Guenièvre d’une voix si plate qu’on aurait pu douter que la discussion la concernait. J’ai l’habitude, après tout. 

— On pourrait aussi envisager de la bâillonner, ajouta Mevanwi. 

— Arthur ne la récupérera pas, déclama Lancelot, faisant mine de ne pas les avoir entendu. Et un noble chevalier ne met pas son aimée en cage comme un vulgaire animal. 

— Oui, enfin, pour la cage, vous l’avez quand même enfermé dans une tour pendant plusieurs années, remarqua Galessin. 

— Dans une tour, oui, répéta Lancelot. Pas dans une cage. 

— Dans une tour, c’est beaucoup dire, dit Guenièvre dans le vide. On parle d’une pièce d’une dizaine de mètres carré avec une pauvre petite fenêtre sur l’extérieur.

Loth fit une moue incertaine. 

— Une tour, une cage, dit-il. L’on est en droit de se demander s’il y a vraiment une différence. 

— Et puis, on est tous d'accord pour dire que l’objectif, c’est que Arthur vienne essayer de la sauver, non ? dit Galessin.

— Ah mais non, seigneur Galessin, mon brave, interrompit Guenièvre sur un ton joyeusement ironique, en fixant Lancelot qui persistait à lui tourner le dos. Ce que le seigneur Lancelot veut dire par ‘Arthur ne la récupérera pas', voyez-vous, c’est que, quitte à me perdre, comment aviez- vous dit déjà ? Ah oui ! Il préfère me tuer de ses propres mains. 

Galessin et Loth se tournèrent vers Lancelot d’un même mouvement. 

— Ah oui, dit Loth, hochant la tête. On a donc atteint des sommets que je pensais jusque-là hors de vue. Non mais, vous savez quoi, je vous laisse faire vos petites bricoles, hein, vous décidez quoi faire, et puis quand vous aurez repris vos esprits, vous me faites signe ? Non parce que, au bout d’un moment, il faut savoir rester sérieux. Si vous partez dans des divagations folles, faut le dire, et puis nous, on retourne à nos magouilles habituelles. Donc, écoutez, moi, je m’en vais, et puis on se revoit quand la raison vous retrouve ?

Mevanwi détourna les yeux de Guenièvre pour se tourner vers les autres conspirateurs, faisant virevolter sa lourde robe. 

— Suffit ! dit-elle sèchement. Personne ne va tuer Guenièvre. Pour l’instant du moins. Seigneur Galessin, vous nous trouvez une cage solide où l’enfermer, et nous partons. Je n’ai pas besoin de vous rappeler que, plus nous restons ici, plus le risque que les soldats de Kaamelott nous retrouvent avant que nous soyons prêts augmente.

— Alors, oui, mais je tiens tout de même à rappeler que, parmi les connards ici présents, je suis tout de même le seul à être roi, dit Loth. Je pense que ça mérite tout de même un minimum de respect, surtout quand il s’agit de donner des ordres à mes hommes. 

— D’autant que je suis chevalier, pas serviteur, ajouta Galessin, et qu’aux dernières nouvelles, je prends pas mes ordres de la maîtresse du régent. 

Mevanwi arqua un fin sourcil. 

— Si vous avez une meilleure idée, n’hésitez surtout pas à la partager, dit-elle calmement.

Loth et Galessin échangèrent un regard. 

—Non mais, c’est le principe, expliqua Loth. Sur le fond, ma foi, on a rien à redire. Quoad Primum, après tout. Le respect d’abord. Même si, bon, au vu de cette bande d’abrutis et de traîtres, je suis pas sûr que le respect vole bien haut par ici. 

[greensword101]

More Wil and Obake! As promised, @betasuppe​. You shan’t be disappointed by the results.

“Stop looking at me like that…” Wil could feel Obake glowing – glowering, dammit Globby! – at him from behind. It shouldn’t have been too hard to ask for a little bit of space, especially now that they had both settled down. As easy as it would have been for Wil to stand up and leave the room, he was too comfortable where he was. It wasn’t often that he had a chance to try composing a new song without distractions, so he tried to take advantages wherever they may be.

Maybe if he told Obake that the song he was working on was going to mock all things English, scientific and purple…but then again, ribbing him was going to distract him from his work. Sometimes, Wil had half a mind to shove a bottle of vodka into Obake’s hands and tell him to drink.

He was tolerable when he wasn’t sober and obsessed with that teen. What was his name again? Ryan? Cooper? Hero…? Hiro, the correct pronunciation. They said his cape name was Captain Cutie, but Wil thought Human Backpack would be more appropriate. What did he accomplish just flying around and letting the Red Panda do the work for him? Give orders? Guess that was what made him appealing to Obake as student material, then. Kidnapping wasn’t something Wil would like, however, and maybe if Obake directly told him to do the job, he’d warn the kid instead and hand him a taser.

What was he talking about again? Oh, right, sobriety and Obake didn’t mix well. Alcohol could accomplish what common sense couldn’t do and pulled that big stick out of his ass. Obake was still glowing – glowering, dammit! – at him and Wil could no longer concentrate on his bass.

“Baka,” he began slowly and patiently, “what is it?”

“Is this another one of your love ballads?” It wasn’t, but Obake would certainly do with something pleasant to hear that wasn’t his own monologuing.

“That’s actually how Hawk and I met,” Wil smiled at the memory. Sea Hawk had been trying to woo some girl one night at an open bar and Wil began playing on a whim. Instead of the girl being wooed by the sailor, the sailor had been wooed by Wil’s playing and they started a duet together. Wil played and Hawk sang whatever came to mind and by the end of the night…Wil’s smiled widened, and he could almost feel that mustache tickling his cheeks just then.

“Touching,” Wil’s smile slid off his face and his eyes hardened at the bored tone. It wasn’t fair that Obake could ruin the moment like that, whenever the mood came to him. They were just talking to each other. “Is this how you won the hearts of everyone you’re with?”

“I don’t have to tell you,” Wil tried focusing on his bass again and began strumming the strings until he found his rhythm again.

“I was only curious,” Obake’s voice carried no hint of an apology, “I find it interesting that you have so many gentlemen callers at your beckoning. Is this one a recent catch?”

“Not really,” Wil groused and continued playing, and decided to play that song he played for Raps and Eugene when the two went out on a boat together. He liked it and best of all, it was a love ballad.

“Please stop playing that,” Obake never showed much emotion other than irritation or boredom most of the time. This time, Wil could pick up a hint of fear. Somebody help, the man was afraid of love.

Wil let the music die down and looked at Obake plainly. And he said, with a sincere voice, “No.”

And the song continued, this time, Wil was humming along with the lyrics.

“I didn’t come here to become enchanted, I will not be swayed!”

This time, Wil stopped completely, “What.”

“I wanted to discuss something with you and I need you to be serious about this.”

Wil sighed, “Is this about the chocolate?”

Obake’s face purpled – dammit Globby! – and he sputtered, “The choco – NO! This is not to do with your sweet tooth, you fool! It’s about Kei!”

Now Wil became alarmed, “What’s wrong? Is she hurt? Did she get bad news? Does she need me to harass her mother again?”

Obake came into his spacing and held him by the shoulders, “You need to stop your antics. Now.”

“Overthinking is an antic?!”

“Your antics with me!” Obake’s face glowed – dammit Gl – oh wait, never mind… - and Wil had to rub his eyes a few moments afterwards, “If you love Kei like you claim to, then you will stop this at once and be happy with what you have!”

“I don’t even live here, if this is about the chocolate –”

“Will you stop thinking about your stomach, you tubby?!”

Wil snorted, “Tubby?”

He started to laugh, the way Obake said it in that frantic pitch was too much for him to handle. Obake kept glaring at him until the laughter stopped.

“I mean it, Wil! Stop the seduction tactics at once or you won’t be welcomed here again,” Wil blinked. Obake never called him by his name ever. Then he processed the second part of the message.

“Seduction…?”

“Kei needs me now more than ever and just because I am a man does not mean I cannot be harassed by some minstrel wannabe.”

“You think I want to have another boyfriend?! I have three, for God’s sake! Listen to me, you strangely attractive glowstick! I’M NOT INTO YOU!”

“You’re gripping my shirt in your fists and are now two inches away from kissing me...”

Wil shoved him away hard and shuddered at the thought of kissing Obake. He was attractive when he didn’t open that dumb mouth of his. And when he wasn’t trying to cause a natural – or unnatural – disaster, but that’s another story.

“Don’t worry, next guy I rope into our group is not going to be you!”

“So you were trying to get someone else charmed!”

“NO I WASN’T!”

“Not the main point,” Obake pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, defeated, “Kei, knock some sense into him, if you could be so kind!”

“Awwwww,” Kei pouted as she walked in, “But I wanted to see you two kiss!”

“KEI!” Wil and Obake shrieked in unison while she cackled.

“How long were you listening?!” Wil gaped at her.

Kei whistled innocently, but it fooled no one.

“Tell him why I’m telling him to shove off in the future before I regret it!” Obake looked exasperatedly at her.

Wil was sure he was already regretting where this was going.

Kei smirked and held out a box. Wil took the box and opened it, dreading the surprise inside. There was a t-shirt that said BEST UNCLE on the front, with a bull underneath it.

Wil stared incomprehensively at the pair, looking between the beaming Kei and Obake – who had started smirking at the look on his face – again and again until it hit him. He felt a great rush of warmth envelop him and then –

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” He screamed. Wil tore at his hair, ripping out clumps, and ran out of the room and up the stairs, screaming and wailing in horror. If he wasn’t already dreading the day Obake Jr. came into the world, he would have smacked Obake for breaking into a giggling fit as he bolted.

[beskarberry]

Devil’s Advocate

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 5

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 11.2k whoops

Content warnings: VICES: gambling/smoking/drinking (reader drinks) Introduction of chapter-specific OC characters. Lots of angst to fluff, sexy times of course.

A/N: This might be more self indulgent than the first chapters but not because of the smut. I kinda go off about fancy clothes so long descriptions of costumes are a big chunk of this chapter.

<-Previous Next->

You hated everything about Canto Bight.

Everything about the city was so... artificial. The stadium flood lights, the glowing neon signs, even the ocean herself had been excavated from the planet’s stubborn sandstone surface instead of eroded naturally by the march of time. To you it was like looking at Corellia’s gold painted twin, a monument to the hubris of all sentient life.

 Even the patrons of the gilded city were fake; their clothes, their makeup, their personalities. Every aspect of them was perfectly curated to deceive and lie, whatever fanciful display would work best to cheat their way to the jackpot. You almost wished you could look past the falseness of it, experience the visual fanfare of light and color that reflected on every surface. You wanted the music and the art and the decor that had been so carefully picked and placed to mean something to you, to sparkle in your heart just as it sparkled in the eyes of the teeming masses. But, all for naught, the gleaming metropolis stung your eyes; and you turned away from it to admire the quaint little space that actually mattered to you.

 You shared the tight quarters of the cockpit with the two strange boys that had recently whisked you away to the stars. Mando was seated in the pilot's chair with his tiny green son perched in his lap, trying to get him to eat his dinner without making so much of a mess. You had already eaten, and you were turning the last hunter’s puck over in your hand, reluctant to get this chase started and take away from the familial scene beside you. It would have to happen sooner or later, and you gave the puck a squeeze to fire up the projector. A ghostly blue fog glowed up into the space above your palm, and the face that looked back at you was surprisingly fair; if not for his crimson skin and long black horns you wouldn’t have known he was Devaronian by his elegant features alone.

 Elios Blackwater was a dapper debonair, his high cheekbones angled sharply under devious eyes towards a sly, sharp toothed grin. The puck notes didn’t specify what he was wanted for, though from the looks of his charming smile and shifting eyes it could easily be anything from a gamblers quarrel to breaking hearts, with a higher reward for being returned alive rather than dead. He would most likely be in a heavily inhabited area, probably as close to Canto Bight’s aurelian heart as possible. You didn’t know why Mando had taken a bounty puck for such a densely populated world, and you would have loved to know what his plan was to get to the city’s casino center before you had arrived in his life. A pair of ragamuffin bounty hunters and their floating baby bucket would stick out like sore thumbs in this gilded mecca of gamblers. If you were going to get to your quarry without being arrested, you were going to have to blend in.

 “We’re going to have to do something about...this.” You said, waving your hand in front of your partner’s ferocious attire, though truthfully you weren’t dressed any more appropriately for the mission at hand. “They’ll see us coming a mile away.”

 He glanced down at himself with a tilt of his helmet, ignoring the mess his son was making of his meal. “What do you have in mind?”

 You weren’t entirely sure yet. From where the Crest was parked you could see the glittering city’s reflection sparkling on the water far ahead of you down the beach, a sight most would find alluring, but to you it was just harsh glare. Nearby where you had landed were other space craft parked up and down the gravelly, machine-carved beach; the pleasure cruisers of wealthy betters made your little scrapheap look even worse than it already did. You watched out the cockpit’s transperisteel window, noting the movement of patrons and their attending droids loading skiffs with piles of luggage, and got yourself a mighty fine idea.

"I think so, but you're probably not going to like it. Stay here." You rose from your seat and kissed the baby on the head, earning yourself a soft, mush-mouthed chirp before you slid down the ladder and let yourself out of the old rust bucket and into the salty sea air of the Cantonican night. Gravel crunched under your boots, and you took a moment to turn and glance back at the Crest, catching the faintest flicker of scope glare where Mando was nervously watching you from the flight deck. Ahead of you a large cruiser was being unloaded by droids, the owners having long since made their way to the casinos, and you made yourself known to the robotic servants with your most charming damsel-in-distress voice.

"Hello! Excuse me! My luggage is too heavy to carry, can you help me? It's just over here on my ship..." The droid nearest you made a stiff bowing motion and tottered after you with the loaded hoverskiff floating along behind. You guided the droid up the open ramp and into the bowels of the ship to where your difficult luggage lay. It never stood a chance, bits of wire and duraplast flew across the cabin like confetti from the blaster shot to its head. Mando lowered his gun back to his holster, freeing his hands to help you haul the skiff into the narrow cabin space, then quickly close the ramp behind you.

The sled took up most of the walking space in the ship, so you got up on top of it and began looting through the stolen designer bags, pulling resplendent finery out into the hazy light. The first tote was full of piles of silk sewn for something with more arms than the two of you put together, so most of those items were tossed to the floor. The second bag was just capes, each a unique and lovely pattern, but nothing more. You demolished the remaining bags, making piles on the floor for ‘maybes’ and ‘definitely-nots’ until you found what you were looking for: a humanoid woman’s clothes.

Most of the unknown lady’s elegant garments would be just slightly too big on you, but you were able to settle on a soft, garnet colored evening gown that would go just above your knees, with extra length in the back. It had a sloping neckline that plunged at your cleavage, and around the bell of the skirt were silver rhinestones that caught the light of the cabin like dewdrops, the weight of them giving the dress a wistful sway. You wouldn't be able to carry much in such a revealing article, but a blaster and a knife alone had gotten you out of more trouble than you would care to admit.

You were fishing through the feminine things for something to do about your hair when you caught Mando in the corner of your eye. He was leaning against the hull wall, just watching you as you made a fat mess of the Razor's interior. You smiled down at him from your floating perch and held up the fanciful garment that you had picked out for him to see. "You like it?"

"It doesn't suit you, mesh’la." He said with a lazy tilt of his helmet. You had begun to mentally keep track of all the Mando’a he used around you, and you were starting to notice his frequent use of affectionates. You spun slightly so he could get a good look at how the fabric moved in the light, but the hunter gear you currently had on took away from the loveliness of the expensive clothes. You guessed he preferred your killer garb anyway over the flimsy, delicate fabric. Or nothing at all.

"Well, it’ll have to do, and if you don't start picking something out for yourself I’m going to dress you up like a dandy.”

He sighed, long and tired before turning his attention to the silken pile on the floor. You went back to the luggage, finding some knee high boots that were close enough to your size, but had a heel height that was going to make your ankles cry. You picked out some tasteless accessories: some bracelets, and big, jewel-encrusted hair pins to wear as well. The glitzier that you were, the less you would be noticed in this bass-ackward town. When you had made your frivolous selections you hopped off the skiff to help Mando with his costume. He was worse at finding something to wear than you were, having only picked out some of his own black leather gloves and two pairs of pants that were not made for human legs. Mandalorian armor did not come off as far as your metal man was concerned, and you were going to have to find a way to hide his bulk. You convinced him to lose his cloak, chest belts, and the bandoliers on his hips and boots, anything to lighten the load. Loose silks and stiff fiber combos would be your best friend, and you cobbled together what you could for your beskar-burdened buddy.

After what seemed like an eternity you had him dressed to the nines, or at least the eights. You had covered his chest plate in a black silk shirt and stiff black vest. The shirt had wide bottomed sleeves and neat, tight cuffs that hid his vambraces well, but you still made him wear a cinched-waist blazer plus a long, black and silver cape that almost reached the floor. You found a dark red pocket square that matched your dress and tucked it into the pocket of his vest, a subtle, but unmistakable announcement to the world that he was there with you. It was a ridiculous amount of fabric on top of an already massive mountain of metal, but the look was very in-style for Canto Bight. All together he actually passed for something besides a murder machine, and you gave yourself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. Mando held still for you while you fussed with his outfit with only the occasional huff. As much as he didn't like the idea of walking so boldly through the gilded city, he did enjoy your brazen touch each time you added another article of clothing.

“And now for the finishing touch.” There was nothing you could do about his helmet, so you were just going to have to make it look as nice as you could. You hadn’t changed into your chosen disguise yet, so you strode through the messy cabin with ease until you reached the lock box next to the cot. Inside you found the krayt’s teeth that you had gifted him and pulled them out into the light, waving them at him as you stretched over the heaps of fabric on the ground. He raised his hands in protest.

“What if I lose them?”

“You can wear these or you can wear whatever the hell this is.” You held up an enormous chain of jewels that looked like it belonged in the treasure case at an arcade instead of around somebody's neck. “Besides, I know you won't lose them, you like them too much.” He tilted his helmet at you with disdain, and you realized that was precisely the reason he didn’t want to wear them, such lovely gifts should be kept safe and secure. But he let you press the precious trinkets into the recess of his helmet where his human cheeks would be anyway. The frozen pools of moonlight tied everything about his sin-city look into a perfect, glittery bow. You had grown to admire the look of him in his cultural armor, the ferocity of it, the utility and strength of the beskar that shined no matter how much damage it took; and you were a bit sad to see it hidden. The look of the man standing before you had a wildly different feel, though it was not one you were opposed to.

“You look nice, Din.” The sound of his own name coming from your lips made his heart swell, and he reached out for your hand on instinct to pull your knuckles to his brow in the sweet gesture of his people that you both now used. His movements caused the finery he was masquerading in to catch the cabin’s hazy light, and you got excited to put on your own costume and join him in looking like a fool. When he let your hand fall, you bounded over to your pile, throwing the hunting clothes off of yourself as you went. When you were standing there in nothing but your Tattooinian muck boots you cast a sly glance over your shoulder. As expected, the single black eye of your Mandalorian was locked on your almost-naked form, and you realized that in the time you had been together he had never seen you fully naked; just the parts of you he needed to get to in the moment. “How’s this? You like this better?”

When he didn’t answer right away you looked down at yourself and saw what he was staring at. You had forgotten about the marks of conquest he had put there when he had been driven to a sexual frenzy by the last quarry’s poison, still dotting your thighs with dark purple splotches. Not once had you been upset with him for his actions, you were just thankful you both made it through the ordeal alive, but he still looked at the damning marks with shame. He had been forced to break his protector’s oath against his will, inflicting injury to your precious body with his own two hands. You waited until his visor made its way back up to meet your eyes, and you reached out for him to give you his hand. He sheepishly obeyed, and you brought his hand to your lips, kissing at the all-black leather slowly until you heard him sigh through his modulator. You would forgive him a hundred times if you had to, and then a hundred more if it meant he could forgive himself. You pulled his hands to your waist and leaned up against him, enjoying the feel of new clothes on your skin and letting your hands run up his silken arms. “Well you can have this,” You nodded down at your bare everything with a mischievous grin, “As soon as we catch this fucko.” 

This was the last bounty you would need before you made the trip back to Nevarro, but you were still on the fence about how completing your mission made you feel. On one hand you would be free of the Guild’s relentless hunters, but on the other your partnership with the strange metal man and his adorable beanbag of a son would come to a close. You turned back to your outfit and began cinching a pair of thigh holsters to your legs, hiding your wincing face as the leather closed around your bruises; a blaster on one leg and a knife on the other. You pulled on the dress and fixed up your hair as best you could, then stepped out of your good boots and into the slutty knee-highs. There was only one loose end to take care of.

 “Where’s baby?” You glanced around the messy cabin, looking for your foundling. In the corner under a pile of capes there was movement, and you cleared the flashy finery away to reveal your bestest little friend. Big, glittering orbs looked up at you from the pile of fabric, and a tiny toothy grin shined from his cute baby face. “Heya booger, you ready to go?” You scooped him up in your arms for a hug before picking a big shiny scarf up to wrap him up with, then placed him carefully down in one of the gaudy designer bags. “If anyone asks, he is a pet.” The child didn’t seem to care, he was just happy to be included, waving his little pudgy baby hands up at you to hold. You squeezed his tiny paw, then turned to Mando, “You ready to go, Lord Beskar?”

He glanced down at himself, tilting his palms up and shrugging. “I guess so, I feel ridiculous.”

“Good enough!” You made for the exit ramp with a big stride, and almost broke your damn ankle on the first step, falling gracelessly into the arms of your partner. He caught you with ease, and your cheeks went red with his strong, gentle hands on you again for the hundredth time. You got to your feet, but you would be leaning heavily on him for most of the night until the boots were broken in. With you hanging off of his arm the two of you looked like a proper couple, just heading out for a night on the town instead of two bloodthirsty bounty hunters on the prowl. You might let yourself pretend though, just for the night.

You took a transport speeder from the beach to the city’s entrance, then made your way through the gilded streets, following the red blink of the bounty fob towards your quarry. You had to stop multiple times, the fucking boots making your feet hurt like you knew they would. Mando stood patiently with you each time, and more than once offered to just carry you. His visor would glide from side to side, always on the alert for anyone that might be following you, or worse, hunting you down. The tracking fob led you to the most obvious choice of casino: the tallest, brightest, shiniest temple of vice smack dab in the city’s center. 

The front entryway was dominated by a roaring, gushing fountain, shooting geysers in a perfectly timed pattern high into the Cantonican night sky. The fountain was lit up with bright, multicolored spotlights so that every stream of water and drop of spray glittered back in defiance of the stars that had inspired them. Inside, the casino floor was packed with patrons, ranging in size and species in an infinite array of wealth and power. Chandeliers hung high above you from the soaring cathedral ceilings, sending sparkling lights racing around the endless room like shooting stars. Every surface was bright and gleaming, dozens of pillars and statues illuminated by blinding limelight. Even the floor was magnificent, black and white marble with huge inlaid stars, guiding gamblers through the limitless space towards their wildest desires. Again you wished you could appreciate the extravagance of it all, though the way the lights streamed like mercury over the beskar of your pretend date made something else sparkle behind your eyes. 

 The smell of inhalants and alcohol burned in your nose, and you took a moment to make sure your purse puppy’s face was covered with something so he wouldn’t have to endure it as much as you were. The sound of gamblers and music and roaring competition was louder than the screams of the hyperspace engine aboard the Crest, the cacophony of it all making you anxious. You were thankful that you weren’t hunting this bounty alone, and you still held on to Mando tightly, letting him lead you over the cosmic marble floor through the streaming masses. The people paid you no mind, moving out of the way without casting a second glance. Your costumes were working exactly as you had intended, and you applauded yourself for how well you had deceived the City of Lies.

You had guessed that if your bounty would be anywhere, it would be at the center of attention, and you were right. Elios Blackwater sat at the atrium bar, surrounded by beautiful and interesting people. The glint of gold jewelry caught the radiant casino lights every time he moved, drawing the eyes of all those around him. He was telling some kind of wild story that had his little crowd hooked on every word, though you could tell from a distance he was all bullshit. Immediately you knew this was a man that was used to having everything he desired, never being denied a single whim in all his days. A plan began to simmer in your skull, and you knew right away your partner was not going to like it. If you were going to get the quarry alone, you were going to have to persuade him to leave the company of his fans, and you only knew one sure-fire method for a man of Blackwater’s tastes. You let yourself off of your escorts’ arm to turn and face him, pulling his hands to your hips and letting your own rest on his shoulders so that to any outsiders you two would be just another pair of passionate dancers making their way through the counterfeit cosmos. 

“Mando, do you trust me?” His hidden eyes were still glancing around the room, scanning for any lurking threats.

“Of course.” His words went right over your head, his ears too full of the sounds of potential danger to really hear you. You huffed and ran your hands to his bedazzled helmet, pulling it down to meet your eyes. 

“Pay attention, bucket boy. I need to hear you say it and know that you mean it. Do you trust me?”  He cocked his head, confused that you would have to ask twice. 

“Yes, ner cyar’ika, I trust you.”

“Good.” You let your hands fall back to his armored shoulders, pressing yourself up against him tighter. Your fingers fidgeted in the heavy material of his cloak, he was going to hate this. “Because I need to do something. Alone.” 

That got his attention fast. 

“No, it’s too dangerous here. I want you where I can protect you. What if there’s hunters?”

“I know, I need you to cover me, but from a distance. I think I can convince Elios to walk right into the carbonite freezer, but I can’t do it with you looming over me.” You wrapped your hands around the back of his helmet, pulling him down so that his forehead met with yours. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it would work.” He sighed between your hands, the steam of his breath slipping out from under the helmet’s edge. There was nothing he would rather not do than be away from you, but he did trust you, and he nodded against your embrace.

“I’ll call for you as soon as I’m ready, ok? Just keep your eyes on me, and don’t cause a scene. No matter what.” You couldn’t kiss him like you wanted to, but you still pressed your lips to the side of his beskar before letting go, pulling yourself away from his tender grasp. His hands still floated in the space where you had been as you turned away from him and made your way to the bar, the heavy purse bumping against your weaponized thighs with every flint and tinder step of your sky high heels. As you got closer to the bounty you could hear the shreds of his conversation starting to make their way over the noise of the casino.

“...And I said ‘Darlin’ if you didn’t want to take it home with you, ya shouldn’t have put it in your mouth!” The way he was telling his story gave you the impression that it wasn’t one you wanted to hear, and you started to regret your foolhardy plan. Gold rings and precious jewels sparkled all the way from his fingers to the caps on his horns, making it impossible for most to look away, a fact made apparent by his captivated audience. The beautiful boozers laughed and cheered at his every word, though from his stupidass sounding story you wondered how much of the affection was alcohol induced. You pulled a seat up at the bar a few stools away from the crowd and ordered yourself a shot of spotchka and a couple packs of cookies. You slipped the snacks into your bag for Din’s foundling, you would be needing him for your plan to work as well; and the promise of treats would keep his bright-eyed attention on you. 

The taste of spotchka was vile, but you had started your journey though the galaxy on the gigantic starcruisers that were built on your homeworld of Corellia, and you had gotten to know the taste of the sailor-favorite drink at a tender age. You sipped at your brew, listening casually to the Devaronian’s conversation, but never turned your eyes to him. Every once in a while another bar patron would swagger up beside you to offer you another shot. You turned down anything you didn’t order yourself, but you started telling them fabricated stories about your life among the stars, most of which were wild tales of fancy from old holovids you had seen. You wished you could turn around and find your favorite rust bucket, wherever he may be hiding among the festivities, and give him something to reassure him. A nod or a wave, anything to let him know you weren’t just making him jealous on purpose. 

Soon you were throwing back brightly glowing shots of brew, and a handful of interested patrons had gathered around you to hear about how you had jerry-rigged a star cruiser to run on spotchka when you were a space pirate smuggling kyber crystals for the resistance, among other things. When you had your head tilted back you cast a glance towards the bounty, and saw what you had been waiting for. His hooded eyes were watching you intently, he didn’t like that someone was getting any of the attention pie that he believed was his alone, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to do something about it. Soon enough the dapper devil rose from his entourage, running a painted claw through his long dark hair before making his way to you, sauntering with every step.

Hook.

“Well hello there, darlin’, name’s Elios. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing chugging spotchka when you could be drinkin’ something as fine as you are?” The debonair’s words were long and slow, making sure that every drawn syllable would be heard. “Bartender! Get this lovely lady a real drink, if ya please.” You weren’t sure what counted as a ‘real drink’, but the dark liquid that was slid over to you stank even worse than spotchka with the strength of its proof. Elios couldn’t stand that someone else might be having more fun than he was, and he was determined to put you out of commission. He wanted to do it in such a way that you would be thanking him for it, preferably while on your knees. “What’s yer name, baby cakes?”

From the other side of the busy casino you could feel the void of a visor making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Mando was standing on the far side of the slot machines where the light was just a little less glaring, so motionless he might have been part of the decorations. He wasn’t sure what your plan was, or how you would talk the quarry into being captured without gaining the suspicion of the wandering security enforcers. He bristled whenever a bar patron started trying to make nice with you, and only got progressively more frustrated when more and more started hanging around you. When he saw the bounty slink his way over to you he wanted to dash across the marble floor and break his fucking neck just for being in your airspace. ‘Don’t make a scene, no matter what’ is what you had told him, and you had asked him to trust you. So he did as he was asked. Watching, waiting.

“Hmm, I don’t think you could handle it.” Oh, Elios didn’t like that one bit, nobody told Mr. Blackwater ‘no’ without consequences. He swirled a glass of the same dark liquid around in one perfectly manicured hand, his polished claws clicking on the side of the glass. You continued to ignore him, but you started on the new drink in front of you. Yucky, at least spotchka was familiar. He took your acceptance of the drink as an invitation to join you at the bar. 

“You’re awful sly, baby cakes, tell me yer name so I can make you forget it later.” His pointed teeth flashed out from his crooked smile, and you could smell the stench of expensive cologne and aftershave. You rolled your eyes big and wide so he could see just how unimpressed you were, but your nose was burning from how bad he smelled. This was a bad idea, but only because of how well it was going to work. Fresher soap, where are you?

“I’ll tell you what, if you can out-drink me, I’ll tell you my name.” His wicked smile split his face, showing off rows of brilliant white fangs. Party-boy could probably hold a few good shots, but you were raised by sailors, and you were gonna drink his ass under the table. 

“You’re on, sweet cheeks. Bartender! Another round!” Another set of shot glasses plinked to the counter, and vanished just as fast. Elios was eyeing you up and down, seeing if you were all bark and no bite. If he could just get you drunk enough…

Far from where you were drinking the Mandalorian you had asked to trust in you was furious, trying not to thumb the handle of his blaster that poked out from the side of his hip under his cloak. It would be so easy, he could hit the target from here and it would be over, you would be back by his side and not being drooled over by that fucking pathetic excuse for a man. 

“He has that effect on people.”

Mando’s helmet snapped on the sounds’ source, so lost in vicious thoughts that he didn’t hear the stranger come to lean against the wall by him. They were tall and thin, translucent green skin and a mop of hair-like cilia growing from their head to their flowy chiffon clothes. They looked exhausted. “That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself. 

“Another!” You hollered, but the glasses were already in front of you, then gone again. The Devaronian hissed back the sting of the high-dollar liquor, shaking his long mane that had started to come undone. You pretended to reel from the liquor's effects, leaning back just a tad too far on your seat. “Again!” The third round of shots came and went, and Elios nearly fell off his stool. Right where I want you. You waved at the bartender for the fourth and final shot that would probably put the devil right on his ass, but that’s not where you were headed with this show of tenacity. You had to get him alone before you made your capture, or the security enforcers that littered the casino floor would descend on you like vultures. 

You waited til he had thrown his drink back before you tilted yours, purposely spilling a few drops down your front so the booze would trickle down between your breasts. Elios nearly choked, and you knew you had his full, undivided attention. Din, I’m so sorry.

“Woo! I don’t think I can do any more, Mister Blackwater, you win.” you feigned, holding the back of your hand up to your forehead, trying to convince him that the room was spinning for both of you and not just him. His sultry laugh made your skin crawl.

“Please, call me Elios.”

Line.

“Well, Elios, you still wanna know my name? You’re gonna have to work for it.” You placed a hand on his leg, running your fingers up his thigh and around the edge of his waist, pulling at his pockets seductively to drive the point home. Does he have SCALES? What the fuck ew ew ew. He took the hint like a drunk takes to spotchka, flashing you a slurred smile. 

“Well… sugar lips, we can take this... elsewhere.” 

“Sure thing, Elios, lemme just have my attendant take my Poochie up to my room.” You held the heavy purse up so he could see the big black eyes hiding in its depths. 

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“He’s a pet, obviously.”

“What kind’a fuckin’ pet?”

“Purebred.” Your quick answer seemed good enough for Mr. Drinky, and he nodded like that made perfect sense. You raised your fist to the air and snapped your fingers.

The human fortress was at your side in a heartbeat, towering above the two of you. You stuffed the purse in his hands before he could ask where to point his gun. “Here, take Poochums up to my room, mama’s not coming home tonight, if y’know what I mean. Get him washed and fed, and don’t forget to scrub his feet!” 

“Yes Ma’am.” The bag was lifted carefully from your fake-drunk hands, and you tried to flash him your best ‘Please-don’t-be-mad-at-me-I-hate-this-too’ face at your partner, but you guessed the look was lost on his visor. The scene did not escape Elios’s eyes like you had hoped it would. 

“Now what in the Mmmmaker’s Mammaries is that big ass fuckin’ thing? That some kinda droid? It’s damn fancy.” Shit balls of hell.

“Uh.. Yes! This is the finest in personal assistant droid technology! See, look.” You grabbed Mando’s empty arm and pulled back sharply on the fabric, revealing the delicate button panel of his vambrace. “Only the best money could buy...” 

“I gotta get me one of those...” Elios stared bewildered as your personal petsitting droid turned and left. “Well, honey tits, you wanna take this upstairs?” Ugh.

“Oh suurrre… Oh Mr. Blackwater I’m ~soooo~ drunk ahaha…” You were barely buzzed, and you worried that your life among the stars had given your liver bigger balls than a bounty hunter. You wobbled on your stool, for phase two of your plan to work you would have to delay Elios as long as possible. You watched as the man whose heart you had stolen faded away from you, the fancy purse hooped over his shoulder and knocking up against his leg, cape billowing behind him as he went. Alright, Baby Beans, it’s up to you now!

Din was seething under his helmet, pissed as shit that this was what your elaborate ‘plan’ entailed. He was trying not to storm through the casino as he left to take your ‘Poochums’ up to your room, whatever the hell that fucking meant. How could he be so fucking stupid? This was exactly the same ruse you had tried to pull on him from day one. Seduction was your real talent, luring your lovers to their untimely demise. How many times had you pulled this stunt? Was this your master plan all along? Ouch. Play with his heart until you were free of your Guild warrant? Ow. You were just using him to get to Nevarro, then you would fuck off to the stars and leave him behind. After everything you had been through, he was just another notch on your bedp- 

“OUCH!” 

Din looked down to his side where the pain he was trying to ignore was coming from, and saw a fat green paw sticking out of the ugly expensive purse, digging vicious talons into the side of his leg. His foundling was trying to burrow through his thigh, and his claws might actually have drawn blood. “What, womp rat? What do you want?” There was something in the baby’s other hand, something golden and flashy. Din reached into the bag and pulled the embossed card from his son’s grasp. What’s this? There was a set of numbers etched in gold filigree in the top of the card, their shimmer blasting away the destructive void he had been spiraling into.

Key card! PENTHOUSE key card! You had tricked the bounty into getting close enough to you that you could pick his pocket without him noticing. You were luring Elios right into a trap, and your Mandalorian was the snare. Din felt a mix of emotion ranging from relief to shame, how could he even think for one second that you might be deceiving him? You had asked him to trust you, and he couldn’t even contain his jealousy long enough to make it through one hunt. He felt like such an ass, you were putting your skills to good use, at great risk to your own safety, just like he had asked you to from the beginning. This wasn’t just his hunt anymore, it was a joint effort between the two of you, and it was his turn to run the next leg of the relay. The heavy, silver-laced cloak was tossed to the side as he raced to the elevator, fluttering away behind him as he flew to beat you there.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep the bounty from falling flat on his face, and the only way to do that was to hold him up yourself. His hands were all over you, the nick of sharp, neat claws catching on the fabric of your evening dress and scratching along your skin. I’m gonna break those fingers, motherfucker. He was slurring his words, making disgusting promises of what he was gonna do to you when you reached his private penthouse. You were just out of range of his boozehole, the lippy thing trying to steal a taste of you. Wobbly steps slowed you both down to almost a crawl, which was exactly what you were trying to do, anything to give Mando time to find the hotel room first. You passed a discarded cloak on the floor, the familiar silver inlay catching the light, and you worried that you might have pushed your partner too far. What if he left? What if he didn’t see the keycard and I’m heading up alone? Please be there, Din. Please don’t leave me with this fucking creep. You both reached the elevator, and Elios fumbled to find his wallet, thankfully having a spare key that he didn’t know he needed. The doors opened, and you realized you would be stuck in your own personal hell for the entire trip up to the top floor suite. Fucking super. 

Elios was getting impatient during the ride up, and it took every fiber of your being to keep from retching as his well-moisturized hands ran up and down your spine. The elevator door opened directly into the penthouse, and his perfectly manicured claws dug into your ass to usher you into the room. The top floor suite was dark, save for the lights of Canto Bight shining in through the cathedral windows. You took a mental note of the speeder parked out on the balcony, you would be needing it later. The Devaronian was at your ear, breathing hot, boozy steam around your neck until he was facing you. He went to bite at your mouth, but you stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." You whispered in your most convincing lust-laden voice. The devil chuckled and ran his slimy, forked tongue around the halting digit. Barf.

"Oh yeah, baby cakes? Why’s that?"

You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip into a wry smile before meeting his half-lidded eyes. "Because... you're going to make Daddy very angry."

His lips turned upwards in an aroused sneer, flashing his dazzling, daggerlike teeth, "How could getting a taste of that fiery little mouth’a yours make me angry, darlin’?"

Sinker.

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about him."

Elios didn't even have a chance to turn around to see where your eyes were looking before a black and silver fist broke his nose and sent his perfect teeth soaring across the room, throwing him down to the marble floor. Seeing his busted prettyboy face bleeding at your feet made you feel so relieved that a vicious shiver made its way from your head to your toes, and you let your body shake the devil’s touch off of you like a big wet bantha.

"Fuck! Oh fucking hell, Mando, you have -no idea- how hard it was to keep that up, he’s so gross! I’m gonna chuck his ass in carbonite so fucking hard his horns’ll break off!" Your partner was still squared up, just waiting for the interloper to try and get up and fight. He wanted the bounty to get up, flail, scream, any excuse to hit him again. But Blackwater was out cold, staining the white marble floor with his blood.

"You looked like you were handling it."

The deadpan tone of his voice told you that wasn't exactly a compliment, remembering the jealousy that had seethed out of him on Tatooine after that Trandoshan had tried to capture you. You had two choices: you could either try to defend yourself and your unconventional bounty catching method, or you could turn that jealousy in your favor. He didn’t remember much from his toxic encounter with the Ardennian, but you knew that every filthy, possessive thing he had said to you that night was still somewhere in that chrome dome of his; and you became determined to bring them to the light. You crossed one arm over your chest, raising the other to tap a finger against the corner of your lips.

"Oh? You didn't like that, did you? Didn't like that he had his hands on me? Touching things that don’t belong to him?" He didn't answer, but the creaking of leather from his fists tightening told you what you already knew. "Tell me, Mando."

"N-no." His visor remained fixed on the unconscious body still bleeding on the floor. Not good enough.

"No what?"

"No. I didn't like that." His voice was low and raspy, but only because he was trying to keep the boiling rage in his chest from blowing his fucking helmet off.

"Tell me what you didn't like." You stepped over the quarry to your man, running your fingers from his balled fists over his silk and steel arms until you were at his shoulders. You could feel the slightest shudder under all his layers at your touch.

"I didn't like him touching you. Nobody should put their hands on you, cyar'ika" His fists lowered to his sides but his visor was still on the floor. You let your hands wander up his neck to the bejeweled recesses of his helmet and turned him to meet your eyes.

"Why not?"

"B-because..."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Because you are mine." He growled through his helmet so hard that you swore you saw it vibrate, sending a delicious tingle though your spine. Atta boy.

“Again.”

“You are mine!” Even behind the beskar you could hear the clench of his teeth biting back deeper desires. His hands went to your waist, pulling you tightly to his chest. The fire coming off of him was scalding, you had pushed your luck too far with this one, and you could feel the volcano inside his ribcage boiling over. He was furious. His heavy armored head pushed against your brow, and you let your thumbs wrap around the bottom of his helmet to find the thinnest sliver of skin where the metal met the man.

“That’s right, I’m all yours.” When you had said that line to him the first time, you had been plotting your escape from his clutches, but as the reassuring words left your lips you knew there was nobody else in the galaxy you would have running their hands up your sides; and you mentally crossed ‘seduction’ off of your list of hunting skills for good. His oath of me'dinuir had swore him to your side alone, and now you knew without a shred of doubt that you wanted it to go both ways; whether you were Mandalorian or not.

You kissed at the bottom of his visor, so close to getting to feel the true, living flesh of him, and yet so far. You had to have him, you had to purge the demon’s touch from your body with the purifying fire of your protector’s rage. A choked, needy groan made its way out of the modulator, and you felt the heat of his breath on your skin. How desperately you wanted to taste it, fill your mouth with the flavor of him to replace the vile spotchka. You pushed up on his jaw, giving you just a tiny glance at his scruffy chin, and you forced your kisses into the tight, unyielding space of the beskar prison. It wasn’t enough for you, but it was a start, and you could feel his body starting to unwind at your touch. “Kiss me. Please, Mando.”

“Cyar'ika, it's not safe here.” He hated the sound of his own words, the denial of them crushing his very soul. You glanced around the dark penthouse and saw you were alone save for the crumpled devil on the floor and the designer purse that had been stashed in the corner of the room, its occupant still working on the bags of cookies. No eyes on us.

“I won’t look, just... lift your helmet a tiny bit, tin man, I need you, I need to kiss you.” You guessed you were safe enough from prying eyes, but you wouldn’t spill his name to the night just in case there were any sneaky listeners. You squeezed your own eyes shut and nipped at the armors edge again, and just ever-so-slightly began to push up on the unforgiving metal with your thumbs. You were just waiting for his hands to shoot up, to grab your wrists and halt your actions, but they were locked to your sides. Inch by inch you gradually lifted the armor, he would have all the time in the world to stop you, but when you felt the heat of his lips crash against yours you almost let your knees buckle out from under you. His strong arms were tight on your back, pulling you into him so he could kiss you harder.

So much better than spotchka. He was delicious, his taste, his feel, his scent, everything about him was intoxicating. So much more so than the despicable brew you had been throwing back all night, and a thousand times better than anything Elios could have offered. Blech. You realized then why the bounty had smelled so bad to you, though his perfume was expensive and his clothes freshly pressed, he was wrong for you. The wrongness was so overwhelming that it had nearly made you lose your drink, and you didn’t realize how wrong something could be until you tried to compare it to what was right. Din was right, he smelled of leather and beskar and the sweat of a man that had nearly combusted when someone else was at your side. And fresher soap! Thank the Maker.

A soft leather hand went to your head, pulling you into him so he could taste you better. His tongue ran over your lips, darting into you to find yours so they could dance together. You bit him playfully, and the way his breath hitched in his throat sent the fire of your core shooting all the way to your fingertips; and you knew right then that not even kissing his forbidden face would be enough for you. You pulled yourself from his lips, the snap of teeth following your retreat, reluctant to let you leave from the heat of the moment. Carefully, you let the beskar slide back down to cover him, and the anguished whine he let out into the night air almost broke your heart.

“I know, I know, I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” With him covered you glanced around the room until you saw the private bar. With your thumbs hooked in the pockets of his borrowed vest you guided the two of you towards it until the granite countertop knocked against your ass. You used his shoulders for leverage, hopping up onto the cold surface and wrapping your knees round his waist, happy to find exactly what you were expecting to throbbing between your legs. He pushed himself against you, the feel of his stolen silks on your holstered thighs giving you goosebumps. His heavy metal head fell against your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he ground up against your heat. He couldn’t contain himself around you, though you wouldn’t want him to if he could. You rocked your hips in time with his needy thrusts, and the growls in your ear almost made you think he would come undone with his pants still on. Can’t have that now, can we? "Mando, please fuck me, I can't wait anymore."

You heard thunder rumble out of his chest, sending electricity from where he was pressed to your shoulder straight down to where he was pulsing against your core. He was going to bring you the stars, alright, but not the ones in the night sky. He pulled back so he could look into your eyes from behind his visor, bringing a hand up to caress your pleading face.

"No, I don't want to fuck you." Your eyes shot wide, shocked that he wouldn't want you when he was rutting so hard into you that you could almost feel the dampness of precum through his layers. He saw your face and shook his head. "Elios wanted to fuck you, all of those creeps at the bar wanted to fuck you.” His helmet shook, trying to loosen the words he wanted to say. “No... I- I want to be better than them, I want to give you something else, s-something more.” He was struggling, his inexperience making it difficult to say what was on his mind. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be like them, he wanted to be worthy of you in ways they never could.

“Then make love to me instead.”

 “Yes!” The words leaving your lips were like music to his ears, so much more lovely than any song. “I want to do that! I want to make love to you, cyar’ika, if you’ll have me?”

You laughed, nodding your head to hide your bright red cheeks. How he managed to be so ferocious and so sweet on the same day was a mystery you didn’t want to solve. He quickly glanced around the room one more time just to be sure you were alone, the light of the gilded city sending streaks of color over the charms you had pressed to his cheeks. Satisfied that you were the only ones awake in the room, he leaned away from you to rip the constricting blazer off of himself so hard the fabric around his chest and shoulders started to tear. Beskar plates twinkled in the limelight, sending stars flying around the room while he worked his pants open. The sight of him springing into view made your heart flutter, among other things. Long and strong, a pearl of precum glimmering in the dark of the penthouse. His hands went to your legs, the leather of his palms snagging on the straps still belted to your thighs as he pushed the elegant fabric of your dress up to your waist. 

“You’re soaked.” You wished you could see what he saw through his visor, the sound of hitched breath telling you he could see you blooming for him clear as day, drinking you in with his hidden eyes. He hooked a thumb in the wet fabric of your panties to pull them out of the way, using his other hand to grip his cock and run the tip over your entrance, bumping against your clit while he lubed himself with your slick. You had to lean back until you were laying on the cold granite countertop, tilting your hips to the edge of the bar so he could see all of you on display. He pressed himself up and in, filling you slowly so he could indulge in every inch that disappeared inside. Your stretched walls clenched around him, making him shiver with each coiled squeeze. The Mandalorian you were giving yourself to pulled himself out of you carefully before thrusting back into you again, fighting every animalistic urge to just plow you into the bar. He was going to make good on his word, he wasn’t going to just fuck you.

But maybe he should have.

“Bing!” 

The penthouse elevator door chimed, and both of you pointed blasters on the figure that walked out from the pink haze of the lift into the dark of the room. “Elios? I know you’re up here, I’m just going to get- Oh. There you are.” The stranger spotted the crumpled, unconscious body on the floor, crossing the room until they stood over him. “About time someone split that beautiful lip of yours, Lee-lo.” The stranger that Mando had run into on the casino floor turned their tired eyes to the pair of you, noticing your obvious state of passion. “Oh please, don’t stop on my account, that’s not the worst thing I’ve walked into up here.” They squinted in the dark, then gasped softly, “Wait, it’s you! Oh good! I saw you when you were dancing and was just heartbroken when Lee-lo came between you.” The tall stranger did a little dance. “Fucking Elios.” They kicked at the Devaronian on the floor, “All he lives for is breaking hearts. I’m glad you two made up.”

The wisp of a stranger bent down to the motionless figure on the floor, yanking one of the gold rings from his horns. They said something too low for you to hear, then got up and left in another cloud of pink smoke, the elevator door closing behind them.

You both lowered your blasters, trying to wrap your collective heads around what had just happened. Mando was still buried to the hilt inside you, and you could feel him pulsing with need; but he had been right from the beginning. You weren’t safe here.

“That’s probably not the only spare key. We should go.” You whispered, trying to get your blaster back to its holster under your dress. He groaned, he was getting sick of being torn away from you. He pulled himself almost all the way out, thrust in one more time for good luck, and released himself with a pop! He pulled you to your feet, helping you down from the bar and onto the Maker-forsaken boots you still had on. Fuck these. You ripped the boots off, chucking them somewhere into the dark and crossed the room barefoot to where the oversized purse held the foundling. You were happy to see him all tuckered out in a pile of cookie wrappers, probably not the healthiest thing for him, but it worked. Behind you, your armored companion was hauling the quarry over his shoulder none too gently, ‘accidentally’ knocking his bloody head against the wall as he turned back to you. You both made for the balcony door to the speeder you had noticed earlier, tossing the bounty in the back seat like a bag of garbage. 

The ride back to the Crest was thick with anticipation, you weren't finished with each other just yet. Mando pulled the speeder right up to the ramp so you wouldn’t have to walk across sharp gravel, chucking the bounty in after you so hard he slid through the messy cabin and smashed into the wall. You slung the damned devil into the carbonite chamber, punching the freeze button with gusto. The ramp closed behind your armored companion, barely giving you a chance to get up onto the hoverskiff that still dominated the cabin floor before the lights went off. You yanked the dress over your head, listening for the sound of more fabric hitting the floor, then the clanking of beskar being tossed carelessly aside. Belts and snaps and zippers went flying, and you had to try not to laugh at the absurd amount of clothes he had to take off. The skiff tilted with new weight, and the body of a Mandalorian was on top of you, warm lips hunting for yours.

He’s naked! Every piece of armor and shred of clothing was gone, and the feel of bare skin against your body was electrifying. His mouth crashed against yours, fervent kisses desperate to taste you again. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him into you to kiss back. He was hungry for you, biting at your mouth and tongue like a man starved. Plush lips made their way from your mouth down your neck, nipping at your throat and sucking the tender skin until you had bruises to match the ones on your thighs. His hands wandered down your body, rubbing at your breast and teasing your nipples until you were gasping for more. The devious digits moved on until his hand was between your legs, pushing at your folds and finding your clit to spin circles on. He was becoming an expert at finding what made you squirm and whine from his touch, rolling callused fingertips into you until you were making a delicious mess on the pile of stolen silk. 

But he wasn’t done there. The fuzzy kisses went from your breast down your belly to where his fingers were working into you. He pulled his hands from your soaked cunt and replaced them with his face, pushing his tongue up against the tiny ball of nerves that had so much power over you. Short, quick circles between long, languid licks had you arching your back and pulling his hair, demanding more. Lost in the heat of your thighs he was happy to give you everything, pushing the smooth muscle of his mouth into your slit and upwards against your clit until you were seeing stars again. 

Your hands couldn’t stop exploring him, from his thick head of curls to the strength of his shoulders. The muscles kept going, tight coils on his back and the warm, rigid wall of his chest. The trail of fuzz on his belly went up farther than you were expecting it to, and the fine hairs tickled your fingers on almost every inch of his skin. Your hands trailed over the numerous, vicious scars that marred his flesh like a road map of every near-death experience he had lived through. Gashes on his arms and burns on his sides had healed over into smooth, textureless skin, the marks of a seasoned hunter that nobody but their barer had ever seen.

Having drank his fill, he pulled his face from the apex of your thighs, pushing your knees apart and quickly sheathing himself in you with a ragged groan. Mando’a praises poured from his lips, some you were familiar but many you weren’t, though all of them made your heart flutter. Strong hands wrapped around your knees to keep you in place on the wobbly sled while he pounded into you, the feeling of bare skin on the backs of your legs making you wish you could see him in the light. But the darkness was the greatest keeper of secrets, hiding your love making from the condemnation of his creed. 

Make love. Though the phrase was just another on the long list of euphemisms used for sex, the pair of words weighed heavy with meaning in their new context. You wanted to explore the concept the way your hands explored his body, but the fire of your core was thrumming with heat, demanding your undivided attention. Din fell forward to your chest, the sweat of his efforts sticking to your breasts. Wandering kisses sent fire over your skin as he made his way over your peaks, sucking hard on their tender buds. Beskar-strong hips rocked against yours until you saw fireworks again, bearing down so hard on him with your orgasm that he sank his teeth into the crook of your shoulder. Bites made their way from where he had surely drawn blood on your flesh up your neck til they turned to kisses again. His brow pushed against your forehead, though your lips were right there he still defaulted to the only show of affection his armored inheritance allowed. Hot gasps of air puffed over your skin from the heat of his breath, and you knew he was close. You locked your legs around him, forcing him to pump every last drop of himself into you, painting your walls with his seed until it was spilling down your ass onto the piles of clothes.

The strength of his arms gave up, and he let himself fall against you, his face pushed against your cheek. You could feel his bristles brushing over your skin as his breath heaved, soft but scratchy. His hands wrapped under you and up your back, hugging you to his bare chest so hard the air was squeezed from your lungs. Fuzzy-lipped kisses dotted your cheeks and face, taking extra time to kiss your lips, each one a promise of more to come. You dragged your nails over his back, making him groan and shake at the touch. Never had anyone to scratch that itch, have you, tinman? Tight muscles loosened under your careful touch, making him sink harder onto you until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. 

You wanted to stay there forever, but as the sweat on your bodies cooled it became sticky and made pulling yourselves apart a chore. Both of you reluctantly made your way off of the skiff, clinging to the walls of the cabin while he hunted for his helmet in the dark. Lights came on gradually once his bucket was back in place so you could find your own clothes, and when you had both gotten yourselves put back together you piled everything you had stolen onto the hoverskiff and pushed it back down the ramp of the Crest. The Mandalorian was back in his beskar, and he cocked his vambrace back and shot a wall of fire onto the little sled, incinerating all evidence of your thievery and passion. The bonfire burned brightly on the gravelly beach of the Cantonican ocean, sending flaming ash into the light of the new dawn. 

You decided to keep the red pocket square that you had tucked in on his costume, though you weren't sure what you would need it for again. Sentimental. You went to the supply crates where your backpack and droid mask were kept so you could squirrel the thing away, when you caught the familiar glowing blue of spotchka at the bottom of the larder. The horrible color made you fucking nauseous after today, but even more distressing was that you realized it was just sitting there unsecured when there was an impish child onboard that could easily get into the bottled brew and make himself sick, or worse.

“Din, we need to put this somewhere safer.”  You held the liquid lantern up for him to see what you were talking about. “What if our foundling gets into it? He might get really sick or-”

“Our?”

Shit. “Sorry, your foundling. Your foundling might get-” Din crossed the small space of the cabin until he was standing close to you, the child in question tucked against his chest. The baby’s big, nebulous eyes glittered up at you, and you couldn’t help reaching out to rub his sail-like ears. He chirped happily at your touch, and as much as you wanted to keep your eyes on him, his father was towering over you, making you squirm under his tilted glare. 

“Say that again.”

“Your foundling.”

“No. The other word.”

“Our?” 

“All of it.”

“Our foundling?”  His helmet cocked to the other side, doing his big metal bird impression. The arm that wasn’t holding the child pulled you up against his chest, squeezed right against the baby in question. The familiar galaxy-erasing hug made you realize how many times you had thought of the child as your own, he was your little buddy, your missing baby when he had been stolen away, your secret weapon that you had hidden in your purse. But he wasn’t your child, he was Din’s, so for him to also be considered as yours…

“Ours.” Above you the word was spoken like it was new, as strange on his tongue as Mando’a was to you. “Our foundling. I like that.”

You couldn’t turn your head up to look at the man who had you wrapped against himself so tightly, but you could smile at the green little child that was flashing you his adorable toothy grin. You little fart, you thought with a laugh, you’re gonna make me go all soft. Almost as though the creature could hear your thoughts he squealed in delight, patting your cheeks with his fat baby paws. You let your arms circle around the boys that had made your life a roller coaster of emotion blasting through the endless sea of stars. It might be a hell of a ride, but you weren't ready to get off any time soon. The memory of the sands of Tatooine where you had been trying to forget the dangers of the universe was starting to fade away, replaced by the moment you were losing yourself in. You were happy to see it go, though your past self would be shocked at how comfortable you had gotten with a magic alien baby and a man with no face.

“Yeah… I like it too.” You hummed into the beskar, feeling Din’s arms tighten even more. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, because the lovely smile had vanished. This is all going to end soon. You buried your face in the tiny space between the foundling and his father’s armor, trying to ignore where the coaster’s rails ended. Only one stop left.

Nevarro, here we come.

<-Previous Next->

TAG LIST

@mandoinevarro​

@mrsparknuts​

@cookiejuicedesu​

@kaermorons​

@ironbabey​

@theflightytemptressadventure​

@emesispo​

@what-iwish-youknew​

@misscamptl​

@t3a-bag​

@poppunkdee

[bluecarelesswhisper]

TOP 100 FEMALE SOLO SINGERS OF THE '50S AND '60S

Patti Page - All My Love, The Tennessee Waltz, Mockin' Bird Hill, I Went to Your Wedding, The Doggie in the Window, Cross Over the Bridge, Allegheny Moon, Old Cape Cod; Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte

Connie Francis - Who's Sorry Now, My Happiness, Lipstick on Your Collar, Everybody's Somebody's Fool, My Heart Has a Mind of its Own, Where the Boys Are, Don't Break the Heart That Loves You

Brenda Lee - Sweet Nothin's, I'm Sorry, I Want to Be Wanted, Fool #1, Break it to Me Gently, All Alone Am I

Kay Starr - Wheel of Fortune, Side By Side, Changing Partners, If You Love Me (Really Love Me), Rock and Roll Waltz

Doris Day - A Guy is a Guy, Secret Love, If I Give My Heart to You; Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera); Everybody Loves a Lover

Dionne Warwick - Anyone Who Had a Heart, Walk on By, I Say a Little Prayer, (Theme from) Valley of the Dolls, I'll Never Fall in Love Again

Aretha Franklin - I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You), Respect, Baby I Love You, Chain of Fools, The House That Jack Built

Teresa Brewer - Music! Music! Music!, Till I Waltz Again With You, Ricochet, A Tear Fell, A Sweet Old Fashioned Girl

Jo Stafford - Shrimp Boats, You Belong to Me, Jambalaya, Keep it a Secret, Make Love to Me!

Rosemary Clooney - Come On-a My House, Half as Much, Botch-A-Me, Hey There, This Ole House

Joni James - Why Don't You Believe Me, Have You Heard, Your Cheatin' Heart; My Love, My Love; How Important Can it Be?

Petula Clark - Downtown, I Know a Place, My Love, This is My Song, Don't Sleep in the Subway

Dinah Washington - I Don't Hurt Anymore, What a Diff'rence a Day Makes, Unforgettable, This Bitter Earth

Mary Wells - The One Who Really Loves You, You Beat Me to the Punch, Two Lovers, My Guy

Georgia Gibbs - Kiss of Fire, Seven Lonely Days, Tweedle Dee, Dance With Me Henry (Wallflower)

Lesley Gore - It's My Party, Judy's Turn to Cry, She's a Fool, You Don't Own Me

Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walkin'; How Does That Grab You, Darlin'?; Sugar Town, Love Eyes

Sarah Vaughan - Make Yourself Comfortable, How Important Can it Be?, Whatever Lola Wants, Broken-Hearted Melody

Dusty Springfield - I Only Want to Be With You, Wishin' and Hopin', You Don't Have to Say You Love Me, Son-Of-A Preacher Man

Ruth Brown - Teardrops From My Eyes, 5-10-15 Hours, (Mama) He Treats Your Daughter Mean, Oh What a Dream

Kitty Wells - It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels, Makin' Believe, Searching (For Someone Like You), Heartbreak U.S.A.

Etta James - The Wallflower, All I Could Do Was Cry, At Last, Tell Mama

LaVern Baker - Tweedlee Dee, Play it Fair, Jim Dandy, I Cried a Tear

Gale Storm - I Hear You Knocking, Teen Age Prayer, Dark Moon

Dinah Shore - My Heart Cries For You, Sweet Violets, Chantz-Chantez

Jaye P. Morgan - That's All I Want From You, Danger! Heartbreak Ahead, The Longest Walk

Eydie Gorme - Mama, Teach Me to Dance; You Need Hands, Blame it on the Bossa Nova

Carla Thomas - Gee Whiz (Look at His Eyes), B-A-B-Y, I Like What You're Doing (To Me)

Patsy Cline - Walkin' After Midnight, I Fall to Pieces, Crazy

Peggy Lee - Lover, Fever, Is That All There Is

Dee Dee Sharp - Mashed Potato Time, Gravy (For My Mashed Potatoes), Ride!

Kitty Kallen - Little Things Mean a Lot, In the Chapel in the Moonlight, My Coloring Book

Annette - Tall Paul, O Dio Mio, Pineapple Princess

Cher - All I Really Want to Do, Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down), You Better Sit Down Kids

Barbra Streisand - People, He Touched Me, Second Hand Rose

Linda Scott - I've Told Every Little Star, Don't Bet Money Honey, I Don't Know Why

Connie Smith - Once a Day, Ain't Had No Lovin', The Hurtin's All Over

Barbara Lewis - Hello Stranger, Baby I'm Yours, Make Me Your Baby

Anita Bryant - Till There Was You, Paper Roses, In My Little Corner of the World

Skeeter Davis - My Last Date (With You), The End of the World, I Can't Stay Mad at You

Sue Thompson - Sad Movies (Make Me Cry), Norman, Paper Tiger

Della Reese - And That Reminds Me, Don't You Know, Not One Minute More

Loretta Lynn - Don't Come Home A-Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind), Fist City, Woman of the World (Leave My World Alone)

Betty Everett - You're No Good, The Shoop Shoop Song, There Comes a Time

Jackie DeShannon - What the World Needs Now is Love, Put a Little Love in Your Heart, Love Will Find a Way

Timi Yuro - Hurt, What's a Matter Baby, Make the World Go Away

Debbie Reynolds - Tammy, A Very Special Love, Am I That Easy to Forget

Gogi Grant - Suddenly There's a Valley, Who Are We, The Wayward Wind

Maxine Brown - All in My Mind, Funny, Oh No Not My Baby

Betty Johnson - I Dreamed, Little White Lies, The Little Blue Man

Jean Shepard - A Satisfied Mind, Beautiful Lies, Second Fiddle (To An Old Guitar)

Shirley Ellis - The Nitty Gitty, The Name Game, The Clapping Song

Little Eva - The Loco-Motion, Keep Your Hands Off My Baby, Let's Turkey Trot

Vera Lynn - Auf Wiederseh'n Sweetheart, Yours, If You Love Me (Really Love Me)

Eartha Kitt - C'est Si Bon, Santa Baby, Somebody Bad Stole De Wedding Bell

Lulu - To Sir With Love, Best of Both Worlds, Morning Dew

June Valli - Crying in the Chapel, I Understand, Apple Green

Connie Stevens - Sixteen Reasons, Why'd You Wanna Make Me Cry, Mr. Songwriter

Jane Morgan - Fascination, The Day the Rains Came, With Open Arms

Nancy Wilson - (You Don't Know) How Glad I Am, I Wanna Be With You; Face it Girl, it's Over

Esther Phillips - Release Me, And I Love Him, When a Woman Loves a Man

Vikki Carr - It Must Be Him, The Lesson, With Pen in Hand

Little Peggy March - I Will Follow Him, I Wish I Were a Princess; Hello Heartache, Goodbye Love

Mindy Carson - Candy and Cake, My Foolish Heart, Wake the Town and Tell the People

Sandy Posey - Born a Woman, Single Girl, I Take it Back

Bobbie Gentry - Ode to Billie Joe, Fancy

Brenda Holloway - Every Little Bit Hurts, When I'm Gone

Eileen Rodgers - Miracle of Love, Treasure of Your Love

Barbara Lynn - You'll Lose a Good Thing, Second Fiddle Girl

Dottie West - Here Comes My Baby, Would You Hold it Against Me

Baby Washington - That's How Heartaches Are Made, Only Those in Love

Kathy Linden - Billy; Goodbye Jimmy, Goodbye

Cathy Carr - Ivory Tower, First Anniversary

Fontella Bass - Rescue Me, Recovery

Barbara Mason - Yes, I'm Ready; Sad, Sad Girl

Marianne Faithfull - As Tears Go By, Summer Nights

Shelley Fabares - Johnny Angel, Johnny Loves Me

Wanda Jackson - Let's Have a Party, In the Middle of a Heartache

Tammy Wynette - D-I-V-O-R-C-E, Stand By Your Man

Mama Cass - Dream a Little Dream of Me, It's Getting Better

Faye Adams - Shake a Hand, Hurts Me to My Heart

Jill Corey - I Love My Baby, Love Me to Pieces

Dodie Stevens - Pink Shoe Laces, No

Bettye Swann - Make Me Yours, Don't Touch Me

Jan Howard - Evil on Your Mind, Bad Seed

Nina Simone - I Loves You, Porgy; Ain't Got No; I Got Life

Norma Jean - Go Cat Go, I Wouldn't Buy a Used Car From Him

Miss Toni Fisher - The Big Hurt, West of the Wall

Damita Jo - I'll Be There, If You Go Away

Patty Duke - Don't Just Stand There, Say Something Funny

Bonnie Guitar - Dark Moon, Mister Fire Eyes

Gloria Lynne - I Wish You Love, Watermelon Man

Jody Miller - Queen of the House, Home of the Brave

Gisele MacKenzie - Hard to Get, The Star You Wished Upon Last Night

Betty Madigan - Joey, Dance Everyone Dance

Ketty Lester - Love Letters, But Not For Me

Barbara George - I Know (You Don't Love Me No More), You Talk About Love

Joanie Sommers - One Boy, Johnny Get Angry

Irma Thomas - Don't Mess With My Man, Wish Someone Would Care

Diane Renay - Navy Blue, Kiss Me Sailor

[randomisedgaming]

Sega Bass Fishing - Sega Dreamcast - Intro & Arcade Playthrough & S Rank Grand Master

Full gameplay longplay, playthrough, walkthrough, trueplay of the arcade mode in Sega Bass Fishing catching a Super Rank Bass along the way. Shows all four areas in the arcade mode Lodge, Cape, Inlet and Palace. It's fair to say if you want the most out of Sega Bass Fishing you want to get yourself an official SEGA fishing rod controller.

Follow Randomised Gaming on Tumblr, for video game, art, reviews, features, videos and more. You can also find us on twitter and subscribe to us on YouTube for even more gaming content!

[awesomeforever]

Morehead City, North Carolina — Star Rods has now been used to break more than 250 world and state fishing records since the brand launched nearly 40 years ago. Nash County local Logan Ennis is the latest record breaker. On Monday, January 2nd, Logan along with his son Jackson and a family friend were sea bass fishing along the Morehead City coast near Cape Lookout. Weather conditions were slightly overcast with fair temperatures as Logan and his companions spent the day telling jokes and doing what they love. Logan was reeling in what he thought would be another sea bass, but was surprised to find a white grunt attached to his squid baited hook. He describes how he didn’t expect to see a grunt on that particular day, as he was only thinking about how to catch a sea bass, a fish he was accustomed to finding on these trips. “It was the biggest grunt I’ve ever seen”, describes Logan. Logan was using an extra heavy action Star Rod Aerial Jigging rod (EXJ66XH) with 150-pound braid on a Daiwa Saltist 35HG reel when he caught his sensational grunt. He tells us that “all [his] bottom fishing rods are Star Rods” and that he can best describe Star Rods as “quality products at quality prices.” (function($) function bsaProResize() var sid = "1"; var object = $(".bsaProContainer-" + sid + " .bsaProItemInner__img"); var animateThumb = $(".bsaProContainer-" + sid + " .bsaProAnimateThumb"); var innerThumb = $(".bsaProContainer-" + sid + " .bsaProItemInner__thumb"); var parentWidth = "2560"; var parentHeight = "1024"; var objectWidth = object.width(); if ( objectWidth 0 && objectWidth != 100 && scale > 0 ) animateThumb.height(parentHeight * scale); innerThumb.height(parentHeight * scale); object.height(parentHeight * scale); else animateThumb.height(parentHeight); innerThumb.height(parentHeight); object.height(parentHeight); else animateThumb.height(parentHeight); innerThumb.height(parentHeight); object.height(parentHeight); $(document).ready(function() bsaProResize(); $(window).resize(function() bsaProResize(); ); ); })(jQuery); (function ($) var bsaProContainer = $('.bsaProContainer-1'); var number_show_ads = "0"; var number_hide_ads = "0"; if ( number_show_ads > 0 ) setTimeout(function () bsaProContainer.fadeIn(); , number_show_ads * 1000); if ( number_hide_ads > 0 ) setTimeout(function () bsaProContainer.fadeOut(); , number_hide_ads * 1000); )(jQuery); But, not knowing the quality of his fish was another story. Logan tells how he really didn’t even think twice about the fish, “de-hooking it and tossing it to the side.” Though he figured it was just another common grunt, Logan’s buddy sure didn’t, and encouraged him to take it for an official weigh in the next day at Chasin’ Tails in Atlantic Beach, NC. To Logan’s surprise, the kind folks at Chasin’ Tails let him know that he was on his way to the North Carolina state record. The Star Rods family is immensely happy for Logan, and are even happier that his son, Jackson Ennis, was with him to experience this awesome event. Here at Star Rods and Calcutta Outdoors, one of our core values is to ensure that the next generation has access to fishing. We pride ourselves on sharing the knowledge of fishing as well as our love of the sport with our young anglers. “One of our main principles here at Star is to engage the next generation in fishing. It’s a great thing to see them enjoy fishing together as much as I do with my sons. That’s why we were excited to send Jackson a new Star Rod. We hope you will use it alongside your dad with pride”, says Chris Pardue, Sr. Brand and Category Manager for Calcutta Outdoors and Star Rods. Logan’s white grunt weighed four pounds and 13.

6 ounces, a total of 5.6 ounces heavier than the current state record, which was caught off Cape Lookout in 1969. Logan describes how if he had not waited a day to take the fish to be weighed, “it could have easily been five pounds.” Right after being weighed, Chasin’ Tails sent Logan straight over to see the NC Division of Fisheries, who certified the record-breaking catch. One of the most interesting facts about white grunts is where a white grunt gets its name – white grunts make a grunting noise in their throat when they feel upset or scared. This sound is made by using their pharyngeal teeth and air bladder. White grunts are a species of ray-finned fish native to the western Atlantic Ocean and there are a total of 150 different grunt fishes in the world. However, the question remains – can you eat white grunt? The answer is yes, and the flavor is described as mild but tasty. The white grunt is even featured in a historic Florida dish ‘grits and grunts’, where it is served as a panfish. This dish came about because of the commonality of the white grunt in Florida. Star Rods produces high quality, hand-crafted fishing rods at an affordable price. Manufactured in small production runs one at a time, Star Fishing Tackle builds custom-style rods with maximum value. Today, Star Rods are known as the rods that break the IGFA World Records – tough, high quality, durable rods designed for the discriminating fishermen. They’re sold through knowledgeable, experienced dealers who can offer expert advice on local fishing conditions to help you select the perfect rod for your needs. Find out more at StarFishingTackle.com. Calcutta Outdoors is a leading global designer and manufacturer of consumer products for the outdoor sports and recreation market. We provide consumers with a wide range of performance-driven, innovative products, including fishing equipment, sunglasses, coolers, drinkware, outdoor apparel, hunting accessories, paddle sports and marine accessories. We are dedicated to helping people enjoy the outdoors. Our goal is to deliver products that embrace the value of hard work and allow people to maximize their free time outdoors. No matter what type of recreation, we want to make the outdoor experience more enjoyable and productive. Calcutta Outdoors brand portfolio includes Calcutta, Celcius, Danielson, HQ Outfitters, Hurricane, Invincible Marine, Kunnan, Matzuo, Propel Paddle Gear, Ready 2 Fish, Sea Striker, Shoreline, South Bend and Star Rods. Learn more at CalcuttaOutdoorsLLC.com. Hit enter to search or ESC to close. source

[nanananerd]

Fac#3

Nielbeuk arriva devant le bâtiment de la fraternité Omegomongus. La vielle bâtisse aux portes immenses vibrait déjà de musique. Il tenait sous le bras son balai, les branches de ce dernier fumants encore. Il maugréa. Il était toujours le premier arrivé du groupe, ça devenait fatiguant. Il n’avait qu’une envie ; se saoulé toute la soirée. De toute façon, il ne pourrait rentrer qu’à pied avec son balai en rade. Il se posa sur les marches, sortit sa pipe et commença à la bourrer en regardant autour de lui ; les Omegomongus était une fraternité sportive, qui regroupaient ainsi de nombreuses disciples académiques et tout autant d’espèces. Il savait qu’il y aurait d’autres nains à ce sabbat, mais il n’avait jamais fait partie de ces souleveurs de fonte.

Un Centaure arrivant en caracolant, deux Nymphes déjà bien enjoué sur son dos. Il s’arrêta devant l’escalier et bondit ne haut de ce dernier. Les Nymphes criaient. Nielbeuk se boucha brièvement les oreilles et alluma sa pipe. Une fumée bleue et une forte odeur de cannabis se répandit autour de lui. Il s’amusa quelque instant à faire des figures de fumées ; ça impressionnait toujours dans ce genre d’endroit où le contrôle de sa personne virait à l’obsession. C’était ironique, car leurs sabbats était les plus déjantés de tout le campus.

Ptolem apparu devant lui dans un craquement sonore, de la fumée sortant du sol à chacun de ces pas. Putain, paye ta classe. La robe du sorcier dansait en mouvement ample à chacun de ces pas. Il portait des chaussures en cuir à bout pointu, un pantalon cigarette, et un duo chemise blanche et veston aux motifs ondoyant, parfaitement assortie à sa robe. Il avait discipliné son afro en une série de twists, agrémenté en leurs pointes par divers bijoux. Il s’approcha de Nielbeuk, qui éteint sa pipe.

-”Oh t’inquiète, tu n’étais pas obligé de l’éteindre”

-”Oarf t’inquiète, c’est par respect et puis ça sera déjà bien assez enfumé comme ça à l’intérieur, autant t’épargner ça quand on est dehors.”

-”C’est très noble à toi Nielbeuk, mais j’ai ma cape comme tu le vois”

-”Attends, c’est une cape en poils de Civette Spatiale ?! Mais ça coute une fortune !” Et dans tes cheveux, c’est des amulettes en Mydrilise ? Damase à ce que je vois ! Et je vois qu’on a sortie les émeraudes allléé!”

-”Bien joué, et je vois que tu as sortie ta tenue des grands soirs !”

-”Eh ouais mon gars ; la classique Bottes TN, tavu, le petit chino, la tit’chemise, ambiance Lumberjack, j’ai même était fait faire ma barbe ”

-”Attend, la ta barbe est faite?! Ptolem s’était reculé d’un pas et dévisageait du regard la barbe de Nielbeuk, une moue très dubitative sur les lèvres.

-”Quoi.” répondit Nielbeuk.

-”Nanan rien, c’est juste que… Ton coiffeur sait que ça s’hydrate une barbe ?”

-”Mais j’en sais rien moi, je vais chez les Orcs à côté du bâtiment de Minérologie, ils sont pas chers, t’a une bière servie pendant nan c’est tranquille”

-”Ouais ok, alors déjà, tu vas mettre ça sur ta barbe, ça va sauver les meubles, et ensuite, je t’emmène chez le coiffeur la semaine pro. Laisse-moi t’offrir ça. C’est un centaure. Mais il s’occupe de touts les nains afros que je connais, il saura comment sauver… ça”... ajouta-t-il en agitant la main en rond autour de l’amas hirsute qui poussaient au bas du visage de Nielbeuk. Dans le même geste, il sortit une fiole au liquide ambré.

-”Ok, merci, j’vais essayer de faire genre tu m’as pas insulté, mais pourquoi tu m’offrirais un truc si cher ? J’t’ai fait quoi ? Tu veux quoi en échange ?”

-”OK, je ne vais pas te vannait sur la capacité de ton peuple à repérer les richesses et à se méfier. Mais sans toi, jamais j’aurai connu Eugénie !”

-”Et juste pour ça, tu veux m’offrir un coiffeur ? Et attend voir, c’est pour ça que tu t’es fait tout beau ce soir ? Uech t’a le béguin de ouf pour elle !

-”Euh ouais, c’est Zéli qui a arrangé les choses pour ce soir, Eugénie n’aime pas trop les sabbats des Omegomongus, c’est trop … Mais je n’avais pas d’idée de comment me rapprocher d’elle en restant respectueux, on n’a aucun cours en communs, on ne fréquente pas les mêmes bibliothèques, sans vous jamais je l’aurai rencontré”

-”Eh bien tiens, regarde justement qui arrive” l’interrompit Nielbeuk en montrant la pleine lune ; Zéli faisaient des figures aériennes avec sa planche, tandis qu’Eugénie volait derrière elle, agrippée à un parapluie noir. Ptolem soupira en souriant. Nielbeuk grimpa sur l’une des statuts de Sphinx qui ornait les escaliers, sortit des fumigènes de sa poche et les enflamma en sautillant. Zéli lui répondit en lançant moult cris, posant sa planche avec grasse sur le sol.

-”Yo Ptolem, bien ou quoi ?!” lui lança Zéli en lui tendant la main. Elle portait sa touffe de cheveux en chignon haut maintenu par un bandana. Elle portait, elle aussi, une chemise rouge à carreaux, avec un pantalon cargo aux nombreuses poches. À ses pieds, de grosses bottes.

-”Parer à célébrer ce sabbat de fou ma Grande ?!” lui demande Nielbeuk du haut de son sphinx, tendant une pipe à son amie.

-”Et comment ! J’avais mon dernier examen aujourd’hui, alors allons mettre fin à cette sobriété !”

Eugénie atterrie en faisant trois petits sauts. Elle portait un chapeau pointu violet, un voile rose pale qui descendait en cascade sur ses épaules et une robe longue droite pourpre. Les yeux de Ptolem brillait. Nielbeuk et Zéli échangeant des petits coups de coude en rigolant. Elle replaça son chapeau, et s’avança vers Ptolem.

-”Bonsoir, désolé pour le retard, Zéli est une catastrophe quand elle se prépare en fumant, elle a essayé une dizaine de tenues.”

-”Bonsoir Eugénie. Ne t’excuse pas, ça m’a donné l’occasion de discuter avec Nielbeuk. Tu es très belle ce soir.”. Ptolem souriait tendrement.

-”Bon aller, on va pas s’éterniser ici ! Go !” lança Zéli en grimpant les marches.

Les quatre amis pénétrèrent à l’intérieur du bâtiment. La musique était assourdissante. Un immense bar entouré la moitié de la pièce. De nombreuses créatures y était accoudés, tenant plus ou moins bien sur leurs membres. Dans un coin, avait était aménagés divers fauteuils et canapés, où des sorciers faisaient découvrir des sorts à des Succubes. Autour d’eux, un petit escalier descendait vers un bassin au centre de la pièce, où Nymphes et Sirènes dansaient en levant les bras. Un groupe de Sorcières, toutes divinement fines et musclées, se joint à elles en riant. Des faunes observaient avec une attention toutes particulière la scène. La baie vitrée était ouverte ; dehors, un groupe de Centaure se livraient à un combat de lutte amical contre des Orcs. Près de l’immense feu, des nains s’était regroupés pour faire griller de la viande, assistés par d’autres sorciers. Ils faisaient tourner de longues pipes entre eux.

Eugénie se rapprocha de Ptolem, un peu intimidé.

-”On dirait que le sabbat est déjà bien entamé.” lui souffla Ptolem en lui offrant la protection de son bras. D’un même geste, Zéli et Nielbeuk allumèrent leur pipe.

-”Bon, on va vous chercher des soft à boire, vous voulez bien nous trouver un coin où se posait ?”

Ptolem observa la pièce, ne sachant où se dirigeait. Eugénie tendit le bras :

-”Regarde, il y à une cursive en haut avec des tables et des fauteuils de libres, et je vois un pentacle de diminution sonore tout autour de la pièce, on devrait y être bien. Mais je ne sais pas où est l’escalier qui y mène.”

-”J’ai la solution lui répondit Ptolem en souriant”. Ils se téléportèrent dans un craquement. La musique était beaucoup plus discrète en haut. La cursive était en fait en pente douce et monté en spirales vers la coupole du bâtiment. Eugénie éternua.

-”Pardon, je suis un peu allergique à la poussière de Portolan.”

-”C’est ma faute, j’aurai dû te demander avant, désolé, je suis un peu nerveux.”

“Pourquoi” lui demanda Eugénie en cherchant une table libre. Ils passèrent devant un groupe de faunes qui fumait un étrange narguilé.

-”Euh et bien, je crois que j’essaye de t’impressionner. J’ai pensé à cette soirée toute la semaine, j’ai même failli rater mon examen de Botanique, je n’arrêtais pas de penser à toi.”

-”Oh, c’est mignon” lui répondit elle en souriant, s’asseyant sur le canapé en cuir foncé. Il y avait deux fauteuils du même cuir qui l’encadrait et une table basse. Cela devrait convenir à leurs deux acolytes.

-”Je vais envoyer Slama indique le chemin à Zéli” expliqua eugénie en tapotant son chapeau. Ptolem l’observa avec curiosité. La petite salamandre sortit du chapeau en baillant. Regarda autour d’elle et s’envola.

-”Est-ce que c’est ton familier ?”

-”Oui, on a toujours eu des salamandres dans ma famille, une sorte d’héritage en hommage au dragon.”

-”Sympa. Chez nous, c’est un peu différent ; c’est le familier qui nous choisit. Du coup, je suis le seul d’une famille qui possèdent des chiens à être accompagné par un chat. Mais Sumi ne s’est jamais laissé faire, elle à un sacré caractère” rigole Ptolem.

Zéli était accoudés au bar et les regardait discuter. Ils étaient mignons tous les deux. Elle espérait trouver un jour quelqu’un avec qui partageaient de tels sentiments. La Salamandre d’Eugénie se posa sur son épaule et e lui chuchota quelque chose à l’oreille. Elle acquiesça et chercha Nielbeuk des yeux. Elle aurait juré qu’il se tenait debout sur le bar, il y à encore quelques secondes ; Slama lui mit un petit coup de tête et indiqua un Lycan. Nielbeuk était en vives discutions avec lui, lui expliquant avec de grands gestes comme correctement utilisé un Erguillet. Le Lycan l’écoutait attentivement. Il tenta une blague et se prit un coup de bottes sur le museau. Cela ne devait pas l’avoir trop blessé, car il sourit de la réaction de Nielbeuk, qui continuait de gesticuler. Zéli rigola aussi. Elle fit signe à la salamandre de veiller sur lui et de lui indiquer leur emplacement. Un Vipéride s’approcha d’elle.

-”Qu’essst-ssce que je te sssers ?”

-” hum, je vais prendre une bière pour le nain qui ai avec les Lycan las bas, une rousse si tu as, moi je vais prendre un Snake Bite et deux jus de Betteraves s’il te plait. Je peux payer en Or ?”

-”Pas de ssssoucis, j’ai du change. “Il tourna complètement son corps pour attraper deux chopes et regarda Zéli en inclinant la tête.

-”Tu ne sssserai pas l’une des Ssssorscières qui a manifesté dans le batiments des Volalenns pour les droits LGBTIA+”

-”Euh si, on n’était pas trop nombreuses, mais on a eu un sacré renfort de la part des Harpies et des Manticoreus. J’espère qu’on pourra faire en sorte de rendre notre Sororité plus “friendly”. “

-”Continue le combat ma ssssoeur. On a réussssi il y à des années chez les Sssmignya, et sssa à impacter tout le monde reptiliens. Une véritable révolussssion. Je t’offre tes cocktails, je te prépare quelque chose de sssympa pour les deux là-haut.”

-”Tu les connais ?” Le Vipéride hocha la tête en commençant à préparer les cocktails.

-”L’Alchemist est en cours de Posstion avançés avec des doctorants, on est enssemble en TP médisscinale. Très respectueux, très mature pour sson age. Et sssa copine sss’est fait remarquer par sssa réactivité. Une Lizzarde faizzait une crise d’hypothermie et elle l’a tout de ssuite réchauffé avec un ssort. Nos essspeces ne cohabite pas vraiment, alors quand quelque chose de positif se passent, tout le monde en parle dans la communauté. Tiens, voila tes cocktails, je vais apporter sa bière au nain, ça fera 0.2ozs.”

Zéli déposa quelques pépites d’or dans la main écailleuses tendu du barman.

-”Garde la monnaie, on se revoit plus tard”

-”Meersssi”.

Chargé de ses trois grands verres, elle chercha des yeux un moyen de monté à l’étage. Deux centaures, l’un portant une Naïades sur le dos, le second une Succube, se dirigèrent vers un pentagramme de levage. Elle les héla et monta dessus avec eux. Les filles rigolaient fort, les centaures bandaient leurs muscles, et Zéli regrettait de ne pas avoir rallumé sa pipe pour masquer l’odeur de paille et de testostérones qui se dégageaient d’eux.

Arrivé à l’étage, elle se dirigea vers ses amis, qui rigolaient ensemble. Elle aimait bien voir Eugénie essayait de contrôler son rire en se pinçant le nez, mais visiblement, Ptolem prenait un grand plaisir à faire rire cette dernière. Elle s’assit avec eux et rejoint leur discutions sur la mode.

Nielbeuk fut interrompu dans son explication du meilleur moyen de planer avec un Erguillet par la salamandre d’Eugénie, apporter avec sa bière par le Vipéride. Le Lycan leva son verre pour trinquer avec lui.

-”Au savoir des Nains, qui ont visiblement beaucoup à apprendre à des êtres des forets comme nous !”

-”Au Savoir des Nains” répondit Nielbeuk qui bu une grande rasade de sa bière et se tourna vers la salamandre ;

-”Tu peux prévenir les autres qu’on va se poser dehors pour fumer ? “ La Salamandre soupira et prit son envol. Alors qu’il allait descendre du bar pour suivre le Lycan lui proposa ses énormes pattes velues.

-”Uech t’es sérieux là ? C’est offensant pour les nains.”

-”Oh pardon, s’excusa le Lycan à la fourrure noir. C’est plus une coutume chez nous, on est pas tous des Lycans Loups, et les grands comme nous propose souvent un coup de pattes aux plus petits, comme les Nitcères ou les Alotelos.”

-”Ok, j’ai compris la moitié des mots de ta phrase.” répondit sceptique Nielbeuk en grimpant sur le Lycan.

-”T’inquiète, je vais t’en présenter, tu pourrais bien plaire à mon meilleur ami, c’est un Alotelo, un renard quoi”

-”Uech, chuis resté dans ma grotte trop longtemps moi, j’en ai jamais vu”

-”Ahaha, c’est presque normale. Lui répondit le Lycan en sortant par la plus grande partie de la porte. En fait, sur ce continent, il n’y à quasiment que des Lycans Loups, moi je viens d’une famille qui avait émigré plus au Sud, du coup j’ai grandi avec des plus petits que moi. On est venue étudier la Pharma ici. D’ou aussi le fait que vous nous voyez pas beaucoup, et encore moi à ce genre de soirée.”

Slama arriva épuisait à la table d’Eugénie. Elle lui fit un signe de la patte avant, debout sur ces pattes arrière. Eugénie sortit de la nourriture de son sac à mains.

-”Qu’est ce qui se passe ?” demanda Zéli, septique.

-”Eh bien apparemment, il y a eu une querelle entre fées qui la forcer à faire un grand détour, et après elle s’est prise une vague projetée par la queue d’un Sirène, et si j’ai bien compris, il est plus difficile de volé au-dessus des Orcs, car leur chaleur corporelle modifie les courants. Ah et Nielbeuk s’est lié d’amitié avec un Lycan, ils sont dehors.” répondit Ptolem calmement. Zéli le regarda, interloquée.

-”Les Alchemist ont aussi des familiers avec qui ils communiquent par Télépathie, je lui ai montré comment faire avec Slama en t’attendant.” Zéli continua à les regarder, interloquée, mais souriante.

-”Tu devrais t’entrainer aussi” argua Eugénie.

-”Non merci, j’ai déjà un démon comme familier, c’est assez spéciale. Il est toujours là, mais on le remarque pas tout le temps.” rigola Zéli.

-”C’est-à-dire ?” demande Ptolem

-”Dès que Zéli est là, cherche un chat noir. C’est la forme de son démon.” répondit Eugénie. Ptolem regarda autour de lui, et remarqua que les dessous de verre représentait des chats noirs. L’un d’ntre eux lui fit un clin d’œil.

-”On le rejoint du coup ? Je mangerais bien un morceau ?” demanda eugénie en aidant sa salamandre à regagner l’intérieur de son chapeau.

-”Ooooh j’avoue, j’ai trop faim après cette pipe ! Et je fumerais bien avec des Lycan, ça peut être drôle.” Les trois amis se lèvent et se téléportèrent dans le jardin. Les Lycan sursautèrent en les voyant soudain apparaitre. Nielbeuk termina de tirer sur l’Erguillet et les accueillis en crachant une épaisse fumée

-”Yoooo !”

-”Yooooooooo !” lui répondit Zéli en tirant à son tour sur le Erguillet, sortant un sachet d’herbes vertes, accueilli par une slaves d’aboiement de la part des Lycan.

Ptolem se présenta aux groupes de Lycan, et fut introduit par le Lycan Loup Noir, Cané. Eugénie sourit, elle n’avait encore jamais passé une aussi bonne soirée chez les Omegomongus. Et Ptolem était si gentil, si protecteur. Une Lycane s’approcha d’elle.

-”Salut, je m’appelle Eya, tu veux manger quelque chose ?” Eugénie lui sourit :

-”Volontiers, on va chercher un plateau pour tout le monde ensemble ?”

-”C’est vrai que ça sera plus facile à deux !”. Les deux jeunes femmes s’éloignèrent. Ptolem l’a suivi des yeux, déjà engagé dans un débat passionné sur l’usage de la Belladone. En dehors de Nielbeuk et Zéli, il n’avait pas beaucoup d’amis sur le campus. Cané non plus, en dehors de la communauté des Lycan. C’était agréable de pouvoir parler avec quelqu’un qui ne remarquait pas votre différence. Zéli rigolait bien avec Nielbeuk et les autres Lycan, avachi, quand elle remarqua une sirène toute seule. Elle s’excusa auprès du groupe et se dirigea vers elle. La Sirène la regardait. Zéli effectua un petit pas de danse :

-”Tu es toute seule ?”

-”Oui, les sirènes de ma Sororité tenait absolument à venir, mais le bassin est trop chaud pour moi” répondit-elle en montrant sa queue de baleine.

-”Et puis, dansé avec autant de mâles qui me regarde, j’aime pas trop.”

-”Je te comprend, c’est pour ça que j’évite de rester trop avec eux. Ils ont faim, c’est dingue.”

-”Ouais grave. Tu veux boire quelque chose, ou fumer un peu avec moi ? Tu es littéralement la première personne terrestre qui vient me parler.”

Zéli sortit sa pipe en souriant.

-”Permet moi de t’offrir un verre, qu’est ce qui te ferait plaisir ?”. La Sirène lui sourit en ramenant ses longs cheveux verts derrière son oreille. Le regard de Zéli suivit le mouvement, puis coula sur ses clavicules, avant de revenir subitement sur ses yeux. Elle se mordait discrètement la lèvre. Cette sirène était magnifique. Elle avait des yeux bleu foncé qui pétillait, des taches de rousseurs aussi vertes que ces cheveux qui parsemait son visage rond et une bouche à croquer.

-”Surprend moi. Au fait, je m’appelle Arylenn.”

-”Enchanté, moi, c’est Zéli, je reviens vite”. Arylenn la regarda s’éloignait. Elle sourit en la voyant se retourner. Elle n’aurai pas pensé une soirée aussi agréable. Elle remit discrètement les deux gros coquillage qui composé son soutiens-gorge et lissa son gilet en écailles. Elle profita de l’attente au bar pour se remaquiller discrètement. Zéli revient vite avec une boisson bleu vif.

-”Le Barman nous a composé ça, il m’a dit que tu devrais apprécier.” De minuscules méduses flottaient à l’intérieur de la boisson. Un verre, deux pailles. Arylenn sourit.

-”Et du coup, tu étudies quoi ?”

-”Je suis en Soins des créatures magiques.”

-”Oh tiens, comme ma coloc !”

-”Et toi ?”

-”Démonologie, j’ai pas vraiment eu le choix, j’ai té choisit”

-”Wow, impressionnant, tu es la première Démoniste que je rencontre !”

-”Et toi la première sirène avec une queue de baleine que je rencontre. Vous êtes toutes aussi belles ?”

-”Ahaha, tu cherche à me séduire c’est ça ? C’est vrai que c’est rare qu’on aille étudier aussi loin de nos tribus, mais on avaient vraiment besoins de quelqu’un pour devenir vétérinaire.”

-”Si j’arrivais à te séduire, ça serai vraiment une bonne soirée. Dit m’en plus sur les créatures de ton coin ... ” répondit Zéli. Arylenn lui sourit en regardant dans ses yeux.

Alors que les deux jeunes femmes se rapprochaient de plus en plus l’une de l’autre, discutant, une nuée de Harpies débarqua dans la pièce principale. Les deux jeunes femmes s’interrompirent en entendant le ton monté. Cané vient vers elle :

-”Les filles, désolé de vous interrompre, mais il va y avoir une grosse embrouille. Histoire compliquée, apparemment des gens de chez Omegomongus ont fait des chose pas très cool à des filles de Harpenn. Les Manticoreus vont débarquer pour foutre la merde, on devrait partir.”

-”Ok, tu sais quoi on se retrouve à la Mare des rêves, Nielbeuk vous y emmènera.” Cané acquiesça et rejoint le groupe. Il ne restait plus que Ptolem, Eugénie, Nielbeuk et deux Alotélo, les autres étaient déjà rentrés chez eux. Le groupe se dirigea vers la foret.

-” La mare des rêves est à une vingtaine de minutes d’ici, elle est réputée pour être très froide. “ Expliqua Zéli en se tournant vers Arylenn. Elle plongea et demanda :

-”Mais comment tu va me suivre ? Tu devrais rester avec tes amis”. Zéli rit, s’agenouilla à hauteur de la rivière :

-”Non ma belle, je te laisse pas toute seule ce soir, j’ai ma planche, je peut voler à tes côtés.” Arylenn s’approcha d’elle et déposa un baiser furtif sur ses lèvres avant de plonger et de réapparaitre un peu plus loin.

-”Tu viens ?” Zéli se mordit la lèvre en souriant, appela sa planche d’un geste de la main et se dirigea vers Arylenn. Elle sentait son cœur battre si fort dans sa poitrine ; en un an sur le campus, jamais elle n’avait pu se rapprocher autant d’une autre femme. Ce sabbat avait finalement quelque chose de magique.