#local businesses rah rah rah!

[xekstrin]

Doing my part to kickstart the tradition of celebrating the day we landed on the moon by ordering a custom silly gray cake.

It’s July 20th! Mark your calendars!

And Yuri day is April 12!

#I also plan to celebrate yuri day next year #SPASE! #in b4 every day is yuri day in this household #idle raccoon thoughts #I would bake a cake but I can’t promise I’ll have the spoons on that day #better to order from a local baker anyway #local businesses rah rah rah!

[servicpop]

AUGH THE COWBOY FIC WAS SO FUCKING CUTE FHSHJSBUSKFDSKUS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!! OUUUUUU

I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR THEM!!!! so the reader eventually has to get to the next town for a week or two for a series of shows, reader tells Cole where he’ll be and where he’ll preform so Cole can send him a letter if he’d like. Cole obviously send a him letters and reader writes back every time. But one day Cole doesn’t send reader a response and this makes him think Cole lost interest for some reason, so readers moping around and complaining about it to other show girls until Cole shows up at the place their preforming. Reader spots Cole in the crowd and gets excited immediately and the rest of the show he has a wide smile up until he can go out and talk to Cole who has flowers for the reader!!!

THIS CAN END FLUFFY OR SMUTTY OR BOTH IDC I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT GET IT IM CRAZY RAH :3

-🎱

✶ ﹑ㅤletters & flowersㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : Cole the cowboy x 'showgirl' m!reader

「ㅤSFW & NSFWㅤ」ㅤhalf is sfw and half is nsfw (the nsfw part will be separated and labelled as nsfw!)

✙ NSFW warnings — sub!top cole, dom!bottom/power bottom reader, cole is a virgin, riding, tummy bulge, cole is more vocal than reader, first time

notes ,, go to part one if you haven't read it already! Not proofread !!

You were able to extend your stay at Pinecrest just for a little while, and during your time here you were able to meet so many people and learn so many things about agriculture, farming, taking care of animals, and you even got to meet the local dog, Scout. More importantly, you were able to spend more time with Cole. He took you out almost every night to go sightseeing, taking you to his favourite spots whether it was in the mountains or by the lake. He even taught you how to ride your own horse and named her Taffy after you; since you were so sweet.

Nothing could've replaced those star-filled nights where it was just you and Cole with your horses, Taffy and Spirit, enjoying the cool breeze and endless conversations that seemed to meander. However, you were a busy man, especially while being in the entertainment industry you didn't have time to stick around forever. You could feel your heart sink just a little bit when your manager had announced that another show would be held in the next town for a few weeks. Of course you enjoyed your line of work, you loved performing, loved being on stage and hearing the cheers of others, but you also loved Cole's company. You knew that Cole had a role here at Pinecrest and it would've been selfish of you to ask him to come with you. But, it wasn't like you were going to keep this whole ordeal a secret from him.

"Cole?" Your voice seemed to break the silence; his head turned to look at you, "Yeah?" Cole's voice was warm, and gentle with a hint of ruggedness like honey dripping over gravel, and the way his eyes glittered when they met yours was enough to make your legs weak under the eye contact, causing you to splutter when you decided to speak again. "I– I have to leave tomorrow, I got another show I need to do at the next town," You mumble, shying away from his entrancing gaze. The cogs in his rusty little brain were visibly turning as Cole stared at you blankly with his lips parted like he was trying to comprehend your words. You can tell it finally settled in his mind when his face deflated like a sad puppy, "You're leavin' sugar?" His voice wavers as he stared at you; the fingers that were once tracing the rim of his glass paused, and the bartender took this moment of Cole's sad expression as a cue to refill his cup with root beer.

Oh, you couldn't do this to him. It was almost like kicking an abandoned puppy on the side of the road — totally cruel. You proposed the idea of sending letters and his sad puppy expression lifted just a little. Fishing in your bag you pulled out a flyer of your next show, sliding it across the counter so he could keep a copy for himself, "Here, send them to this address," you tapped the words in bold that say where you were performing. Cole — of course — takes the flyer eagerly, scanning over it to mentally note down the information written on it, "I'll definitely be sendin' you letters honey," Cole smiled with his dimples peeking through. He picked up his glass of beer and placed it between his lips to take a swig before he started blabbering about whatever came to his mind, a common habit of Cole, and you were always keen to listen to his rambles. You could listen to his voice all night long.

Unfortunately, Cole's most dreaded day came when you had to leave for the next town. He most definitely was one of the first people to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch you before you left, pressing a light, lingering kiss on the back of your palm as if you were a prince and he was nothing but a humble knight. After the townspeople waved you off, you and your fellow performers left via the vans. It was approximately a four hour ride, it would've been quicker if you took the train but your manager insisted to go by car for the scenery. You felt yourself missing Cole more than ever, more than anyone else that you've met and being in multiple towns and countries, you've met alot of people.

Your show was held over four days with a one day break in between and a few free days to explore the area — a total of one week and 3 days. As promised, after settling down in the new town, you received letters every morning from Cole. They usually contained heartfelt messages about his day, his animals, what he ate for every meal, some local gossip, and of course expressing how much he missed you. He even signed every letter with small doodles of what you assumed to be him and Scout. Sometimes, he'd even attach small poloroids of himself usually with Taffy and Spirit in the back. Every night when you had time to spare you scavenged your hotel room for a spare piece of paper and a pen, writing back a response with your signature and some doodles that were definitely not as good as Cole's. It's corny, but you kissed the envelop after sealing it before sending it off back to him.

One day after your 2nd show, you stopped receiving letters, and it really messed up your mood. Did Cole lose interest? Had he found someone better than you? Was it because you were away? All these thoughts ran through your mind and you found yourself slumped at the vanity, complaining and whining to the other showgirls on how you felt like he didn't like you anymore. Knowing how supportive the girls are, they always attempted to comfort you, patting your back and reassuring you that he might’ve just not had any time to write back, that he was busy tending the cattle and whatnot. But no matter what they said, that feeling if a pit in your stomach lingered for the 3rd show. Your aura wasn't the same, your energy wasn't the same, you couldn't perform as well as you did the first two shows.

But suddenly, you felt a strange, familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the crowd. Mid dance, your eyes scanned the sea of people and caught on that dear smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of nights. Cole. That stupidly charming cowboy was nestled in between the bodies of others looking at you. Just you with those eyes filled with admiration. Your heart skipped a beat — or multiple — and you felt your lips involuntarily curl up into a smile.

"That's it. That's the smile I love."

With a new-found burst of energy, your limbs no longer felt sluggish and that fake smile was replaced with a genuine one. All of the sudden, the spotlight seemed to focus on you, highlighting the sequins that glittered on your costume and your bright smile. The other showgirls seemed to notice your change in mood and they all shot you small smiles, watching at how your hips swayed with the beat of the music and how your dance lightened up the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to see him.

Once the performance ended and you and the other performers bowed, you immediately ran out into the crowd, searching frantically for Cole but no matter how hard you looked and pushed through the people, you couldn't find Cole. Your feet picked up in speed as you ran outside, looking around to find Cole leaning against a streetlight with a bouquet in his hands. "Hey," You huffed, catching your breath from all that running around. "You were— amazing, sweetheart," Cole smiled, extending his arm out for you to take the bouquet of dasies, "U–uhm, the daises are hand picked if— if you were wonderin'." From the way he was stuttering over his words like a highschool boy confessing to his crush, and how his eyes focused on anything but your face, you could tell he's never given flowers to anyone in such a romantic way. They were beautiful, all thoughtfully placed together to make the bouquet aesthetically pleasing with a white ribbon tied around the stems with a small bow. You took the bouquet before wrapping your arms around Cole in a warm embrace. He didn't expect you to hug him so abruptly but he for sure did not complain, taking only a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I've never seen you smile so wide before darlin,' were you excited to see me?" Cole chuckled, keeping your face pressed against his cheek as he tangled his fingers through your hair. A small laugh escaped your lips too as you teased back, "Don't get ahead of yourself now."

After catching up a bit on the way back to your hotel, you found out through Cole that one of his cows gave birth to an adorable baby he named 'Choco' from its brown coloured fur. He really did have a quirk in naming animals. Once back, he helped you find a vase for your daisies, filling it up with water before carefully plopping your flowers in them. You flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly from how plush the mattress was, and Cole followed shortly, laying right beside you. As you laid on the bed with your eyes staring up at the white ceiling, you felt a hand tangle with yours, turning your head to meet Cole's grin and his hands holding yours tightly. "Thanks for coming tonight," You were more than happy that he actually took the time out of his day to come all the way here to watch you perform again, "You know I'd do anythin' for you sugar," He cooed, squishing your cheeks between his fingers before he brought your face to his, giving you a small peck on the lips. You always loved how soft and gentle Cole's lips felt agaisnt yours, and they always had a faint taste of strawberries on them.

"That's too corny,"

"You want corn? We can go to the corn fields sometime if that's what you want"

And that earnt a pillow straight to his face.

One kiss turned into two, maybe three, with you leaning over Cole's body while he was still laying down. His arm snaked over to hook around your waist, pulling you closer to him and tangling his legs with yours. As he presses his body agaisnt yours, you felt him poke at your thigh. He was excited, something that you didn't expect from sweet little Cole. He seemed to notice and it was evident through the blush that creeped up his neck, "S–sorry... it's instinct y'know?" His words stumble over eachother and he brings a hand to his face, hiding behind the comfort of his palms as embarrassment ate away at him. It was adorable! This guy being such a flustered mess just from a few kisses and you haven't even done anything that intimate yet.

You reassure him, obviously; you tell him that it's natural and that it's okay to react this way. But then it strikes you. He seemed so inexperienced, so shy about everything. Was Cole a virgin? "I've never done anythin' like this before... I've never felt this way about someone else," His usually loud and confident voice was now reduced to a soft, nervous whisper. He shuffled slightly, pulling you up and onto his lap, his eyes glittered with nervousness and excitement, "D'you think you could show me a thing or two?" Damn. The way he's looking at you with pure love and sincerity made your blood pump faster from how quick your heart was beating. You've been dying for this too, so why not?

You helped him undress before following shortly after, discarding your clothes somewhere in the hotel. He was surprisingly big— like really big. His pretty pink tip was already glistening with pre-cum from the previous kisses and he had a prominent vein that ran down the underside of his cock that was bound to be a sensitive spot for him. Cole was also more built than you expected, he had toned muscles that were most defined in his arms and he had pretty big pecs. They were like pillows, you'd have to convince him to let you sleep on them later. Cole refused to look you in the eyes while you rummaged the beside drawers for lube. You put a generous amount on your palm before placing the bottle down and turning to face Cole, who was trembling like a little mouse.

"Relax," you cooed, wrapping your lubed up hand around his shaft, pumping slowly to coat him. His body physically jerked once he felt the cool substance around his cock, and a low whine slipped from his lips. Cole's breathing became more heavy as you slowly stroked his length, his eyes fluttered with every movement. Once you deemed that to be enough, you slowly moved to hover over his lap and Cole's hands immediately went up to grip your hips for stability. You knew this would hurt; you weren't properly prepared but you didn't care that much. Slowly, you sunk down on Cole's cock, feeling the slight burn as you bit back small whimpers. "You okay sugar? 'Mnot hurtin' you am I?" Cole grunted, his fingers gripping your hips even more, guiding you down his length. He was concerned, yes, but he also couldn't help from twitching inside you.

"I'm fine," you replied with a small huff once you were able to take Cole in fully, relaxing a bit so you could get used to his size. Cole on the other hand was certainly not relaxing. You could almost see the muscles on his arm tense and he had this unfamiliar look in his eyes like he was desperate for something, any sort of movement from you. After awhile of just silence and stillness, Cole's resolve finally caved in, "Oh, please sweetheart, please move. Anythin'! I need to feel you, please," he whined like a little puppy, staring into your eyes as if he was going to die if you didn't give him any sort of relief. But that wasn't any fun now was it?

You leaned down, your hips rolling slightly in accord to your movements, and pressed a honeyed kiss on the outer corner of Cole's lips. That little movement with your hips almost made Cole cum on the spot. "You can't do that t'me," Cole's eyes gleamed over with tears, dampening his eyelashes. All wet and pretty. He swore he'd actually start crying if you didn't move. "Alright, alright, sorry," you apologised but didn't really mean it — he was so adorable begging you just to move. But, you weren't that cruel. A string of 'thank you's poured out of Cole's mouth as you rocked your hips rhymically, grinding down on his cock. His head tilted back against the silk pillows, his brown hair cascading across the pillowcase like flowing water. Cole's lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell intermittently, some breaths short and stuttered, while others were deeper.

"It feels so good," Cole muttered out between pants. His voice was nothing short of a whiny mess mixed with a few moans and grunts. You lifted yourself off of him, almost lifting completely off of him before dropping your hips back down, earning a muffled whimper from you and a loud moan from Cole. He was undoubtedly alot more vocal in expressing his pleasure. His eyes opened with heavy eyelids, as he looked up at you; you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. Cole's gaze flickered down to your tummy and his mind went blank when he saw the small bulge in your stomach, "Oh mercy," he breathed out, his hand moved to touch your stomach, "You're gonna be the death of me if you keep— hah, keep teasin' me like this."

Your mind was just as lost as Cole's with the way his dick was able to reach your prostate so easily. It drove you crazy; his cock angled perfectly to hit it over and over again with each bounce. Your own neglected cock was sliding along Cole's happy trail, the warmth of his body made you twitch everytime you grinded your hips. "I'm— im close, so so so close, please— please let me cum." Beads of sweat rolled down Cole's temples and his forearms flexed, digging his fingertips into your hips hard enough to leave an indent — he was careful not to use his nails, Cole would never want to hurt you. "Im—" Cole sat up from his laying position, enveloping you in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck, needing something to hold onto while he orgasmed. His moans were muffled by your neck as his thigh spasmed faintly while he spilt his seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim. Your own orgasm followed after his, coating his abs with your fluid.

You two sat in the comfort of eachothers arms and the sound of your heavy breathing; your own arms were lazily draped over his shoulders with one hand stroking his hair. "When's your next show?" Cole asked, moving his head off your shoulder to look at you, "The day after tomorrow, but I have rehearsal tomorrow morning," a small pout spreads across Cole's lips as his eyes flicker to loon at your thigh instead. "Do you think you can walk properly tomorrow?" "Oh right..."

Bonus ♡

You winced as you settled down into the chair infront of the vanity. A few of the showgirls walked up to you, noticing that something was off, "You okay honey bun? You seem to be in alot of pain today," one of the girls ask, placing a comforting hand on your back. "He obviously got some action last night with that cowboy guy." "No I did not!" "It's obvious in the way you're limping sweetie."

Cole on the other hand, was still soundly asleep in your hotel bed, curled up with the blanket he stole from you during the night.

a/n ,, Cole oh sweet Cole . To be honest ,, I'm still not used to writing smut . I guess it's because I'm trying my hardest not to make it sound off or weird ,, maybe I'm just immature . The word cock sounds funny to me . Anyways !! I kinda rushed the smut . To be fair my main focus with Cole is how he's an innocent n' sweet guy but ya know ,, nsfw is what gets people going these days

#bottom male reader #male reader #oc x male reader #male x reader #mlm #male x male #servicpop — fics/drabbles #servicpop — ocs #sub character #dom male reader #x bottom male reader #original character #smut #gay #gay fanfiction #oc fluff #oc smut

[kdramaxoxo]

Can you recommend like a fun, silly, summery drama? I'm looking for similar vibes as Cheer Up or Age of Youth (female friendships are a plus). It's hard to find something without melodrama.

First off, I LOVE your user icon! (- ‿◦ )

And I definitely want to help you find something silly and easy to watch, especially as we enter the depths of winter! Some of these are a little less slice of life but still fun. Also I know you already watched/mentioned a couple of these but I'm adding them to the list for everyone else who might be game!

Light Hearted Fun K-dramas (little or no melo)

Soundtrack #1 (slice of life/romance) Best friends for almost 20 years, the two leads start having feelings for one another while working on a project. This drama only has a few episodes which is a shame because it's really cute! As a Park Hyung Sik Stan (sorry but Happiness broke me), he's great in this one and he hasn't lost all of his military weight yet which I LOVE :D

Fanletter Please! (slice of life/ romance) A sick child writes fan letters to her favorite star, an actress who for kdrama reasons is afraid of fan letters. This was a super sweet, short drama - I really liked it so much!

Into The Ring (workplace/romcom): The perfect slice-of-life rom com! Goo Se Ra has trouble holding down a job due to her passionate personality so after she loses her latest job working for the ML, she decides to run for a small government office position because it pays a salary. Literally she does it for the money which is just *chef’s kiss.* The show is about her dealing with local politics and it’s SO FUNNY and smart and the OTP is the best! 

King The Land (rom/com): A cold chaebol hotel owner meets his match (literally and figuratively) who is a top notch employee. There's a lot of push pull and the ML (MY BIAS!) Lee Junho's character falls hard and fast. It does have slow moments but if you literally want to watch a happy couple be happy (plus the skinship is chef's kiss and there is so much of it) you'll enjoy this one.

Melo Is My Nature (slice of life): This drama is by far my favorite slice-of-life drama of 2019. Found family, strong and complex characters, I laughed, I cried. Plus a gay character that’s an actual character, with the gay as a casual side note (classy k-drama!!) It was just a perfect show for me. There’s romance, but all of the stories are super interesting.

Top Management (slice of life) I know this show is mainly on Youtube Premium BUT I just got an email from Youtube basically saying “hey we know you never want to pay to watch our shows so we’re just going to let you ok?” so that’s something… Adorable mini drama about a girl who can see the future and becomes the rookie manager for a kpop band. Fun and easy.

Business Proposal (rom/com) Seriously this drama is almost the exact same plot as The Secret Life of My Secretary. It's really fun and cute (just like the latter) and if you like one, you'll like the other ;-)

True To Love / Bo Rah Deborah (rom/com) Bo Rah is a relationship expert publishing her book. She works with a man who is her total opposite making it a cute enemies to lovers. Yoo in Ah is literally so adorable I love watching her! (If I'm honest I can't remember a TON about this drama but I do remember it being an easy watch).

Her Private Life (romcom): Park Min Young really knows how to pick dramas. I loved this one about a museum curator who is secretly a fangirl obsessed with an idol. It’s fun and fluffy but does have a very mild childhood trauma thing with his mother but I mean, 99% of dramas like this do? If you like this one, Touch Your Heart and Why Secretary Kim are by the same person and have similar vibes.

Touch Your Heart (rom/com) A sweet, silly and very mild rom com about a serious boss and his hallyu star secretary. This show was an obvious response to the chemistry that Lee Dong Wook and Yoo In Na had in Goblin so it was nice to see them together again. Yoo In Na is such a fun person to watch!

Fight for My Way (slice of life/romcom): I love this drama! Always a fave for me, this drama is funny and heartwarming! The leading lady is a strong female which I LOVE, and Park Seo Joon plays her really cute down to earth best friend. It’s a childhood friends to lovers trope with a group of regular people (no rich heirs in this show!) and has a happy ending and a lot of cute flirting, cuddling and kissing. Argh I love these two!

Age of Youth 1 (slice of life): Age of Youth/ Hello My Twenties is one of the best k-dramas that centers around strong female friendships. A group of wildly different girls find themselves rooming together in an apartment. Lots of romance too, but the girl’s lives and friendships are the primary focus.

Shopping King Louie (romcom): Ridiculously fun and lighthearted romp following a spoiled and useless chaebol with amnesia who is being taken care of by a country bumpkin in the city. Very low stakes, super adorable couple, and as many tropes as you can fit in your bag, this one is one of my favorites to recommend.

Eulachacha Waikiki / Laughter In Waikiki (slice of life comedy, romance) I hope you’re ready for a crazy amount of unlikely situations and nutty hijinks because this show is probably one the most silly ones I’ve ever watched. It follows a group of friends who own a hostel so it’s a slice of life drama. At certain points I was like “this is TOO silly” but I’m glad I stuck with it cause it was so hilarious. Plus, the baby is a star!

Wok of Love (rom/com) Despite the fact that the show was shortened by two episodes because of sports, this drama is a funny and quirky show worth watching. Many people dropped it because it was SO crazy for the first couple of episodes (it has a talking horse people!), but it does settle into a really sweet and fun story about a chef, a gangster and a rich girl and her family. If you love food, this show is for YOU!

And finally, if you don't mind a bit of melo, I highly recommend Run On!

Enjoy <3

#kdrama recommendations #kdrama recs #kdrama #king the land #i wrote this list right before bed and im not really awake #so how many typos will there be? #lee junho #on the list twice as he should be #soundtrack no 1 #fanletter place #true to love #i love a list

[siderealscribblings]

LeBlanc Coffee and Curry Honolulu, Hawaii 

Jimmy Tanaka’s Japanese was godawful, but he had grandparents that lived in Okinawa so Sojiro made an effort to help him practice. He had done so much evil in his life that a handful of good deeds would do little to cleanse his soul, but Sojiro hoped that the occasional act of kindness would at least earn him a kinder form of damnation. 

Jimmy spoke Japanese with all the hallmarks of a young man alienated from his parents’ culture, drawing out the u in Sojiro’s last name until it sounded like he was saying “Sah-KOO-rah” despite his gentle admonishments. Still, he was a breath of fresh air among the aging Japanese expats and locals that typically flooded his cafe. They would cluster around the front stoop, grousing about tourists and playing cards while they smoked and waited for their orders to arrive.  It wasn’t too popular; Sojiro never made it a point to advertise. Advertising invited unwanted attention, which Sojiro had avoided successfully for years. 

Hiding in a bustling tourist city on American soil offered him more protection than hunkering down in a bolt-hole somewhere in Japan. S.E.E.S. might be bold enough to march armed into hell, but not bold enough to provoke a response from the United States. The rather liberal Yankee gun-policy meant that Sojiro could reliably stow a weapon under his register without too many eyebrows being raised. He had never been a field operative and would likely die in any fair gunfight. But he kept it meticulously oiled and loaded and never far from reach. The other shoe was going to drop someday, and Sojiro would be ready for it when it finally did. 

Until then, he had work to do; at home, and at the restaurant slinging plates of warm curry and hot coffee. 

“Jimmy, order for Table 2!” Sojiro called in Japanese, sliding two katsu curry plates onto a tray and ringing the doorbell. 

“Table…” The young man’s brow furrowed, trying to remember his Japanese. “Ah, naruhodo!” 

Do you really? Sojiro thought, watching the young man walk to Tables 3, 4, and 5 before finally remembering what the Japanese word for two was. Then again Sojiro’s English was only adequate after nearly a decade abroad. Between the two of them, they had enough English and Japanese experience to carry on a full conversation in two broken languages. 

“You get the overseas news, Sa-ku-ra-san?” Jimmy asked as he returned behind the counter. 

“Nah…been busy,” Sojiro grunted in English, cracking open a glass coke bottle and taking a sip. Synthesizing baalsulfuric aether with components outside the Metaverse was impossible, so naturally it took a whole week of sleepless nights to figure out how to do it. “Anything interesting?” 

“Some hella yabai stuff going on,” Jimmy whistled. “Bunch of…uh… thieves?” 

“Thieves?” Sojiro snorted. “What did they steal?” 

“Nothing yet; they’re like crazy, uh… hacker thieves,” Jimmy said after a moment of fumbling with the pronunciation. “Took over a radio station or something I guess; started making threats to the police and a bunch of famous people.” 

“That so?” Sojiro chuckled. Everyone is a drama queen these days. 

“They got a couple of babes with them though,” Jimmy said, scrolling through his phone and pulling up an image clipped from one of the broadcasts. “Check out the blonde in the catsuit.” 

Sojiro sighed, leaning over to look at Jimmy’s phone for a moment before turning back to the stove. “She’s a bit young for me, but I guess she’s up your- wait! ” 

Panic raced through Sojiro as he suddenly reached out and grabbed Jimmy’s phone before he could tuck it away. “Let me see that again.” 

Jimmy’s smirk spread as he passed Sojiro the phone. “Told ya she was hot…though the chick in the biker gear has some nice legs too.” 

Sojiro was half listening, eyes tracing the lines of glowing energy that snaked under the thieves’ masks in disbelief. “H-How long have they been robbing people?! Have they appeared in public or just on the news?! When did they show up?!” 

“Uh…” Jimmy blinked, struggling with the flood of Japanese. “I don’t really know…maybe a few weeks, or so ago? The forums are all buzzing with gossip but- hey!” 

“Watch the shop!” Sojiro called over his shoulder, grabbing his pistol and tucking it into the waistband of his slacks. “And send me that link!” 

Sojiro heard his protegee call something back to him but couldn’t hear what over the pounding in his own ears. The afternoon sun cast long shadows on the sidewalk as he made it towards his car parked in a side-alley. He whipped out a pocket mirror, carefully inspecting the undercarriage for misplaced wiring or lumpy blocks of C4 before sliding into the driver’s seat and tearing out onto the main road. 

Traffic was infuriatingly dense on the way back to his unassuming white house tucked away in the corner of an unassuming neighborhood. The money from his previous career could have furnished beachfront property, yet the small, overgrown home far away from the tourist spots had been perfect. Neighbors were friendly, but old, blind, and hard of hearing; if the gadget in the basement blew up, it would only kill those who had lived full lives already. Heavy iron bars rattled on the front door as Sojiro’s hands shook trying to open it, the eye of a single security camera following him into the house as he slammed and bolted the door behind him. 

"Hey!" Sojiro called into the house. "Get up here; you need to see this!" 

Read More...

Start from the Beginning

#p5 fanfic #polythieves #akeshu fic #feat. Sumire's ex and the stick up Mitsuru's ass #shuake fic #devil summoner akechi goro #demon hunter au

[toonwatcher]

Oh, Determination, how much do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways:

1. Why is Kitty Section doing business with Bob Roth at all after he stole their design and music that one time, let alone trusting him?

2. Adrien should realize that Marinette might be embarrassed by the incident at the wax museum he thinks is “romantic”

3. How has the corrupt local mayor not been ousted yet?

4. The lady from the wax museum (Idk her name and I don’t care) should have more reason than most to reject Monarch’s offer.

5. If Grumpy Gabe can create an Akuma capable of imitating all the Miraculous’ powers at the same time, then what the hell does he even need Ladybug and Cat Noir’s jewelry for?

6. Come to think of it, doesn’t that conflict with Orikko’s claim that Kwamis can’t use each others’ powers?

7. MORE LOVE TRIANGLE BULLSH*T

8. The show keeps trying to frame the loss of the Miraculous as being Marinette’s fault, and that is horsesh*t.

9. Why does Ladybug even let Chloe’s words affect her? Literally every thing she says boils down to “RAH RAH RAH RAH ME! RAH RAH RAH RAH QUEEN BEE! RAH RAH RAH RAH WHY AREN’T YOU WORSHIPPING ME?”

10. I’m pretty sure Ladybug actually killed the Akuma and then brought her back with the Miraculous cure.

Is there something in the drinking water in Paris? Is that why nobody on this show has a functioning frontal lobe?

#miraculous salt #determination #rant #miraculous ladybug

[bootzey]

Is it me????

So... I'm at Your DeKalb Farmers market. If you've ever had the pleasure, this place employs almost exclusively Ethiopian people. I've seen the owner. He's white. As an African American.... I have an expectation that other Non Black POCs treat us with shade... you may or may not agree but that's MY reality.

As expected, when I got to the Ethiopian cashier, he was not particularly friendly. I was prepared for that. I had one of those plastic carts but more groceries than I expected. I was planning to drag the cart to my car and because I know they aren't supposed to be outside I was planning to bring it back inside even though I would have to do a long lap to do so. He didn't know my plans. I didn't share them. He told me I couldn't take the cart outside. I was pissed....

So I said.... let's put these items in as few bags as possible. He did and double bagged. Everything worked out.

Here's the reason for this post... I was EXPECTING him to be snotty. I used to work in an Ethiopian dental office and found the African patients to be rude, insulting and dismissive. They even told ridiculous bold faced lies to my boss about me when they didn't get what they wanted. Even though I had information they needed, no one else in the office could do what I did and I'm highly educated... they couldn't get passed the fact that I'm a Black woman. One patient refused to give me his personal information because as he said, "Black people steal identities." Because the office was in an Ethiopian community I tried to patronize local businesses. The same. One restaurant I went to made my friends and I wait 30 minutes before they would take our orders. We were the only ones there. Folks.... I'm a whole Auntie as are my friends. We don't do the rah rah. I was at a bank waiting to get a document notarized, and an Ethiopian man walked in thinking he was going to cut in front of me because he was more important. He said that with his outside voice. These are People the same color or darker than I. So from life experience, I've set a callous for non American POCs. But is it necessary?

Was the cashier snotty? I can't tell. He wasn't particularly friendly... but he didn't have to be. He did his job the way he was supposed to. That's really all I should expect. Had he been an American Black person, would this even be an issue? That's why I'm writing this post in the parking lot. There is a partial degree in 120 that says... "He wants us think we're all different."

We are a sum of our previous experiences. But if we are to move forward in peace, should we continue to give people chances to hurt us? I do not have an answer to that question.

[ledenews]

Tales of Wheeling's Millionaire Brewmaster

(Publisher’s Note: In order for co-publisher and Editor Steve Novotney to relax on vacation with his family and friends, LEDE News will be re-publishing some of our original content throughout this week. Steve’s work will return later this week.) He was an immigrant who had heard of the American Dream, so when he arrived to the promise land, he was ready to make his reality. Henry Schmulbach came to Wheeling as a young child in 1852 from Germany, worked on packet boats, became involved in the wholesale liquor business, and eventually established his own brewery which rose to become one of the largest in the state of West Virginia. Some of you may be aware that he led an interesting social life and was involved in an altercation at a tavern on Stamn’s Lane that resulted in the death of a man. Schmulbach would later be acquitted of murder, but this added to his “reputation.” Stay tuned, because this story will be published on the night it occurred – August 14th. The following pieces are just a few stories from the interesting rendezvouses of Henry Schmulbach. Downtown Wheeling is very different today than it was in the early 1900s. A Bold Robbery in Wheeling On the night of November 15, 1874 Schmulbach was involved in what the papers recalled as one of the boldest robberies to ever occur in Wheeling. Schmulbach and a group of men had attended the Knights Templar Ball that evening, but had not retired until 4:00 a.m. at the McLure House. Sometime after that, thieves snuck into the room that was shared with by a man named George Swift and Schmulbach. Swift claimed to have put a pocket watch under his pillow. Upon waking up the next morning the two men discovered that their rooms were entered while they were sleeping. The pocket watch was missing, which was valued at over $200, while Schmulbach was missing $9.00. Two other rooms were broken into that night where money and pocket watches were also stolen. When the thieves entered the 3rd room an alarm was sounded, a search was made, but as the newspaper reports, the rascals were not caught. Later the next day though two “colored” men were brought in for questioning because they had been in and out of the room occupied by Swift and Schmulbach for errands. They seemed to be the main suspects, but were later released on bail. The millionaire's brewery was located in South Wheeling. Schmulbach the Politician Schmulbach always had an interest in politics at the local, state, and federal levels. He made a run for mayor in 1875, but was unsuccessful. That same year, on August 6th Schmulbach traveled to Long Branch, NJ  to have a “confidential talk” with President Grant. One can only imagine what interesting topics they discussed, but this goes to show the influence that Schmulbach and Wheeling could have on the President of the United States. In 1902 Schmulbach also threw his hat in the ring and explored running for a West Virginia Senate seat, but the campaign never materialized. Rah for Schmully! While Schmulbach was definitely known for his “reputation” around town, he was also known for his philanthropy. In September of 1876 the Hayes and Wheeler colored guards were having some financial problems and could not afford uniforms and torches. When Schmulbach got word of this, he “came to their relief and ordered them all they wanted.” The newspaper ended the story by exclaiming “Rah for Schmully!”  In 1877 The “Healthy or Fat nine” competed with the “Invalid or Lean nine” and played in a baseball game in Wheeling. The teams consisted of well-known residents from Wheeling. Henry Schmulbach played left field for the “Healthy nine.” Much controversy surrounded the park's beer garden while it was in operation. Schmulbach the Gambler and 1,000 Kegs of Beer One of Schmulbach’s hobbies was gambling, and apparently, on just about anything. In November of 1884, Schmulbach placed a bet with the President of the Elm Grove Motor Line. The bet was, if Grover Cleveland is elected, Schmulbach would tap 1,000 kegs of beer – if Cleveland lost – the Elm Grove Motor line would have to haul all passengers, free of charge to Hornbrook Park (now Wheeling Park) on a day of Schmulbach’s choosing. Cleveland would win the Presidential election of 1884, but it’s unknown if Schmulbach actually tapped 1,000 kegs of beer. Controversy over Ice at the Brewery In late July of 1889 four men were fired from the Schmulbach Brewing Co. for stealing ice. The workers claimed they were taking ice home that had fallen from skids; an act that most workers took part in. A meeting was held at the Trades Assembly Hall in Wheeling by the arbitration committee, members of the union, and Henry Schmulbach. Schmulbach wished to justify his firing of the employees. Another meeting was then held at the News Letter office.  Schmulbach, and Hortsman (Vice President of the brewery) were present, and the room was crowded with workman from the brewery. After a long investigation and discussion of evidence, it was decided that the workers would be reinstated and report to work on Monday morning providing that a list of rules were created to avoid future misunderstandings. Schmulbach commented that he did not want to take away privileges that workers had enjoyed in the past. Schmulbach and Hortsman also stated they wanted the union to “live and increase” because it was “to their advantage to have union men to do their work.” Only remnants of the Schmulbach Mansion remain on Roney's Point these days. Schmulbach Remembers His River Roots In 1900 Schmulbach would again show his philanthropy by donating $1,000 to construct the Riverside Park monument. On the day it was unveiled a parade started an the McLure House and a party of about 100 people made their way to the Wheeling water front for the celebration. Schmulbach’s Love for the Trotters   During this era Schmulbach also became one of the most prominent race horse owners in the United States. He commonly visited the popular racetracks of the era, and was a frequent visitor of Kentucky. One example of his love for the trotters would be his purchase of the race horse Baldy McGregor for $15,000. Baldy McGregor was the fastest 3 year old trotter in the country in 1912. Schmulbach raced the horse once where he finished first in Lexington at the Championship Stallion Stake and then sold him in a consignment sale for $16,000 in 1913, the same year he sold off all of his horses in a consignment sale. The total amount received for the consignment sale was $32,000. Schmulbach was a man who lived an adventurous life. He was one of the keenest businessmen not only in Wheeling, but in the United States during the era that he lived. Schmulbach may have lived a rowdy lifestyle, which you will learn more about, but he was also a man of integrity and lived the American dream. His story is not only entertaining, but it’s also a story of great success and pride in a community that Schmulbach truly loved. Read the full article

[sqifitech]

Meet Q-Rah! On the cutting edge of emerging technologies since 2016.

"Join me on this adventure of infusing you with technology and engineering topics that may interest you from a variety of different subjects, domains, & projects for you to choose from.

Knowledge is power! Use it wisely!"

Topics open for discussion:

* 2020 & Beyond Families

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Founder | Educator | Futurist

#emerging technologies #sqifi tech #the legend of q rah

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 8

first part here previous part here ao3 here

update at last!

--

Marinette almost screamed when she saw the knitting needles on her balcony. It wasn’t even her birthday yet. Was he around? Taunting her?

School wasn’t helping. She kept her eyes on the windows.

It didn’t help her team was scanning the area constantly… and she was certain that Kagami somehow got out of school as she could spot Ryuuko before school even started, and her shadow had’t moved often.

Alya, Nino and Adrien weren’t leaving her side. Kim had taken to joining them (and with him, Max and Alix) with Kim determined to get Marinette to wear one of his hoodies since “you look cold.”

She knew that was code. ‘Let me help.’ She wasn’t sure this was something safe for them to help with.

“Thanks but I’m good!” was highly ineffective.

Before lunch Kim had his hoodie on her. It made it harder to find her with the change from her usual outfits once Adrien and Alix stole her hairbands.

They were doing a plain sight disguise. She knew it.

Going to Alix’s after school helped a bit with that.

She still felt eyes on her. She couldn’t tell who’s.

Alix was the one to break out the guardian translations with her dad. The Kubdels knew more than most of her team—time travel side effects after all. It was a big part of why she could trust them in the first place: Alix wanted to help and her father knew there would be a Ladybug in Paris before giving Alix the family heirloom. When Marinette saw it after studying the miraculous for a bit and asking Fu if there could be two rabbit miraculouses… it lead to Fu merging the two (from two separate timelines).

In the one Mr. Kubdel was from, a girl named Bridgette took up the role of Ladybug and was followed around by a questionable Black Cat. Mr. Kubdel’s grandfather prevented that timeline from happening—changing key events and all—but was prepared for the chances another rabbit would be needed. His son was not a good fit… (poor research, questionable retention, and overall bad at delicate work) meanwhile Alix had street art done quickly and intricately, fast reflexes, and adored learning history to the point some topics had been re-written in the curriculum for “the complete BS this hack is pushing” and “obvious refusal to stick to the facts” among other objections with heavily cited and sourced works to back up her claims. To a truly terrifying degree.

Its also why once they were out of sight, Alix and Mr. Kubdel and her escaped to one of the secret passaged kept off the current schematics for Miraculous related reasons (escape without being seen leaving) and Alix brought them into her burrow sans ‘time windows’ for her peace of mind.

“What do you want us to do Ladybug?” Bunnix asked.

That was the question…

They tracked that the issue began with what let Robin identify her in the first place. The most likely culprit was the flaming akuma… if Alix went as Bunnix and helped Ladybug catch the butterfly or got it someone else, then Robin would never have identified her, and their current situation wouldn’t be happening.

She wouldn’t be hunted by the Ghosts of Gotham.

But then… her team wouldn’t exist, not as it does.

Chat wouldn’t know who she is.

She wouldn’t exist.

She… she wasn’t willing to give that up.

“We’re not undoing the past.”

Bunnix nodded, gliding around the empty space.

Mr. Kubdel opened and closed his mouth before finally offering his own suggestion. “Perhaps, we could capture them.”

Marinette ran over that option. It wasn’t bad. Not by a long shot… but the capture would deprive Gotham of its vigilantes…

“We only keep Robin, any others captured are cut loose as soon as possible and removed.”

“But Robin is the one that knows your identity,” Bunnix reminded her.

“The others probably figured it out already. But that’s not why we’re keeping him.”

Mr. Kubdel gestured for her to clue them in.

“Remember what the Aesir and Vanir did to end their dispute?”

Mr. Kubdel searched his memories until it hit him. “Ah. That.”

Marinette nodded. “Add in a game of chase, move to the home turf, and we have our plan.”

“And you’re bait?” Bunnix checked, no longer moving about as she absorbed the plan.

--

If you were a civilian in Paris, you might catch sight of what must be someone’s idea of a joke. As not only were there Big Justice Members running around with your local heroes—who up until this point had only worked with one other group (Quantics) who were Europe-based.

But seeing some guy in black with a bluebird on his chest go head to head with Rena, Miss Sting and a very pissed off Monkey King and Pegasus (since when does he get mad like that? Kid looks like he’s going to end Bluebird) was not a sight you were able to process at the moment. Wonder Woman joining the group was the cherry on top. and Carapace was moving civilians out of the way and sometimes caging them all in Shelter.

You also catch an enraged Chat Noir and Ryuuko tearing after some fashion disaster in a cape down the street. A cape for godsake. In broad daylight. Green Lantern was flying after them, and since when does Chat’s suit… move? Like, you’re pretty sure that’s not normal… at all.

Ryuuko and Fashion Disaster (FD for short) are sword fighting. Chat is attacking FD at any opening. Viperion is with them, sometimes shouting directions. Green Lantern seems to be keeping the fight from spilling over.

A check on the Miraculous News App shows pics of Fashion Disaster trying to get too close to the baker’s daughter. You know, the one that kind of slips the heroes snacks and is seen with Chat randomly at her balcony? The one you’re 30% sure he’s crushing on and in some war with Ryuuko for the heart of. Why else would the two be seen so often around it?—Akuma school is across the street.

You blink a few times when you realize that baker’s daughter is visibly scared of FD (and you’d be too if a random Mask with a sword showed up) and apparently had Bunnix with her at the time to help move faster.

That meant whatever happened in another time had to be bad…

Bunnix mentioned that in the world where she went Princess Justice there wasn’t much to stop her…

You can see why the team is a tad… okay, really overzealous. You’re pretty sure Chat tried to cataclysm FD after Ryuuko sent him flying with the air attack.

You manage to get a better view (For the People! and not to mock the villain later—no siree!) of the Bluebird fight. Dude gets taken down by a combination of things in short sucession—Monkey King landing a hit with his power, Wonder Woman’s lasso (through a portal—good on you Pegasus!) that he got pulled through, a flute to the head by Best Girl Rena, and paralyzed by your favorite striped heroine.

The take down shocked FD and Green Lantern caged the guy (teen? Kid? They look small.) and moved them over by Wonder Woman and her group, some of whom dispersed to recharge.

Never claim Bruce is not a dedicated parent. The best? He hopes not. The worst? He has met Stephanie’s parents, and he is far from them. And Cas’s. And he knows he’s not as bad as Rah’s. He is dedicated (and a serial adopters, but shhh). How does he know this?

He managed to reactivate his kid’s trackers and noted where they intersected and looked into properties, deeds, and children in the school across from the bakery Stephanie and Cass had taken to camping out in when not at their hotel rooms. So far, he narrowed down his daughter to three possible candidates—Mireille Caquet, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Laura Pretre. The only three girls in the age range he suspects Ladybug is in (he paid attention to the early videos and crossed her references, videogames and knowledge of the teens’ involved (re: knowing their names before the class became an akuma gold mine).  They are also the only three from his candidate pool who were adopted or single mother of the right age to have caught his younger self’s attention—a few interviews of the heroes let slip that Ladybug’s parents and her team’s parents are unaware of what they do, and her vicious support for child support and adoptive parents in a few akuma instances gave credit to her belonging to one of those two groups.

It was between Marinette and Laura in his opinion—they both ran a fashion boutique online. Mireille was a model the two shared, but still a possibility.

Jason was helped him narrow it down—a consolation for being stuck in bed and not allowed on patrol for the night. Apparently he was also trying to call off the identity search in-person to prevent any accidental identity reveals and prevent further stressing of “Lady Bat”.

Bruce may have smiled at the nickname. He doubted his daughter would appreciate it, but nicknames had a strange habit of sticking if Jason gave it… for better or worse in Tim’s case. (He was glad that Replacement was replaced with Tiny Tim, Timbo and Timmy).

He also noted that the girls were intent on Gabriel Agreste being Hawkmoth… and had a strange obsession with his relationship to Mayura given their search histories. Tim was still deciding between designers, and he did note that Marinette ranked highly on there… which was both a relief and terrifying.

That meant everyone but his daughter’s “business conduct supervisor” (Adrien Agreste, only son of Gabriel Agreste, primary candidate as Hawkmoth) had been akumatized and someone she had to personally fight while they hurled who knew what at her. He doubted it was good for her mental health. (Not that he has much room to talk, but still.)

Damian and Dick were refusing to respond to his messages, and likely engaged in something.

Until Green Lantern lit up his screen with a pained look. “Bats, this is not what I meant by get your house in order.”

The view panned to Nightwing and Robin currently held by a very pissed off Wonder Woman. With Chat Noir glaring at Robin, something off with his suit.

Batman sighed deeply. “I told you those two weren’t responding since Robin returned with Red Hood last night.”

Green Lantern looked at someone off screen, clearly taking commands from them.

“Uh, yeah… We’re having Supergirl get the other three back Stateside. Miss Sting and Chat want to interrogate these two since Robin was caught around a civilian they keep an eye on.”

Batman could hear what wasn’t being said. Robin went to talk to Ladybug’s civilian identity and it blew up in his face.

“… are any of you allowed to be present to monitor the interrogation?”

He doubted the teens would get violent. (he hoped) but there were too many unknowns.

A hiss from Chat Noir ended his ‘not likely to get violent’ train of thought. His one of his sons was caught stalking their leader, who he has previously tried to kill, and another aimed a gun at a member of their team. Violence was on the table.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Ladybug will choose who comes.”

Robin looked up at him from the background. “Permission to ask Father a question?”

There was a moment when everyone turned to the figure off screen, likely Miss Sting given Ladybug’s refusal to be in the Justice League’s presence.

Robin turned back to the screen, Hal moving closer to give him a better view of Robin. HE was largely unbruised on his face and his breathing was even. Positive indicators.

“Am I allowed to unmask?”

Batman froze. Jason looked up from his spot. He could feel Babs choking on something in shock.

Hal and Diana reacted somehow, but they weren’t in screen.

He meant to do this far later. When she adjusted. To her alone, and later let her team know. ease them into it—there was no knowing one of their identities without knowing the rest. Not with how Ladybug’s mind worked. And he doubted she kept many secrets from her team.

“…I am not opposed to it. Preferably keep it to those you trust with that knowledge alone.”

Robin nodded. “Understood Father.”

--

When Ladybug showed up, she could feel everyone’s eyes on her. She ignored it as best she could, especially the silent Nightwing and Robin… possible assassins. Sent by her biological father who never even met her. it was going to be a long plan execution (and gods, she still needed to double check on the Hawkmoth as Gabriel theory and work out how to remove him from the company without screwing over a decent chunk of the fashion industry workers from design, store front to manufacturers and suppliers. And emotional whiplash of Hawkmoth trying to kill his own son twice. And the times he tried to manipulate her into Princess Justice and have it Stick in the timeline).

All it took was one look at Pegasus. One look and she blocked all the other issues swimming in her mind.

“Ah, we’re going there then… It’s a good thing Cowboy is resting for the moment…” Pegasus shook his head. “Voyage!”

Ladybug looked them over.

“Chat, Miss Sting, Rena, and Pegasus, I need you with me. The rest of you, patrol or return to civilian life until I return. If you come across an akuma, jar them. Contact us if you need a fix only.”

Carapace nodded, looking over at Kim and Alix. “We won’t let you down.”

Ladybug nodded, her eyes narrowing at the two League members present. She was still debating contacting the ‘only in an emergency do you contact this rogue branch’ group… they were once lead by a Chat Noir candidate, or still were… she wasn’t clear on that detail. What she did know is they went by League of Shadows in the book, but it was noted they favored violent forms of destruction, and she wasn’t sure if they needed that method… didn’t want them to need it either.

But the book stated the Amazons were loyal to Ladybugs. “Wonder Woman, please ensure the Bats are out of my city before we return.”

“Of course Ladybug.”

She turned to the Green Lantern. A shakier alliance with the lanterns historically, but also known to tell the Ghosts of Gotham off, and so far he’s shown a high favor of her team’s stance over his technical ally’s. Perhaps a personal grudge, or maybe the Justice League operated more like Gabriel’s company—a chain of command, specific roles somewhat dependent on each other, and no one had to like one another…

Wonder Woman was better to ensure the Bats left.

Green Lantern was the one holding Robin in his ring. And his “Core” as the book said, was most responsive to Ladybug who didn’t hesitate to protect others and themselves at once. That they showed a level of comradery during times when the Order followed philosophies that could be linked the idea of “personal and individual impact upon others with one’s actions and choice” was the exact wording.

She hoped she was doing this right.

“Green Lantern, if you would be so kind as to come with us and bring Murder Robin? You are free to roam once we get there, but don’t try to locate where on earth we are then. It’s the one place Hawkmoth hasn’t been able to reach, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Green Lantern and Robin both agreed readily.

Nightwing looked like he really wanted to argue. A lot.

Wonder Woman somehow kept him from speaking as they left.

Marinette could finally breath when they entered the Temple. She wasn’t able to bring back the Guardians. She could bring back their scrolls, the library, the training rooms. It also meant they were far from Paris, from Hawkmoth’s reach, and that now the real plan had to be put in action… how to keep the bats out of Paris and her secret identity a secret. (Hawkmoth could wait. She needed time to work that out, and once she was sure, once the nagging doubt and what ifs stopped plaguing her… then she’d look for that solution… maybe Adrien could inherit early or they could arrange for his father to be caught committing tax fraud or something after getting Nooroo and Duusuu? Anything to ensure he was punished for his actions and that Adrien isn’t caught in the crossfire. She can’t lose the literal other half of her soul. She just. Can’t.)

Ladybug paused when she looked over Chat. His suit was… moving. Shadows were moving on his suit. That. That can’t be good.

“Chat, bring Murder Robin somewhere he can’t find a weapon, Miss Sting, make sure no one attacks anyone in any way, am I clear?”

Miss Sting gave a curt Nod while Chat hissed, but relented easily enough.

Green Lantern put a hand on her shoulder while Pegasus ran off to the library, likely to check up on his own additions to the place… bringing it into the twenty-first century was not easy.

“Going to check-in with what’s going on with your Cat?”

Ladybug glanced at him. “He’s my partner.”

“Pretty sure that’s what a Black cat is for a Ladybug,” Green Lantern said.

Ladybug didn’t respond, moving away from him and Rena to message Alix to find out what shadows have to do with the Black Cat… and if she needs to worry about a second Atlantis event.

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

so things are happening because Mari is Smart Strategist, Protect Mari Squad is a force to be reckoned with (teen superheros love local baker daughter that gives them food and lets them hang out), Kubdels Know Their Timelines (Sort of) and Wonder Woman and Hal know better than pissing of a Ladybug while Bruce is off Suffering and Putting Shit Together.

and yeah, Damian is both the one who started this, and the one that Marinette wants to confront, (plus respects her secret ID rights unlike Certain Bats who made it a competition) so he gets First Meet rights in the way None Of Them Wanted.

anyone who wants to add to the madness, feel free to comment possible things and i'll see what sticks and doesn't.

fight scenes are Not My Best so i tried where I could (Sorry to batfam fans who wanted Dick to be Badass. he's up against Diana and four miraculous members directly PLUS carapace 'i am locking you into this space now' shelter? he's good but its Wonder Woman and five demi-god level heroes raised on adapt and overcome heroing. long battle but he was going to lose.) Damian's fight is left up to interpretation but Team-Work makes the Dream Work for this story.

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace@jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #marinette did not sign up for this #part 8 #long post #how does one tag? #ml au #my writing #my fic

[talesofealdancynedom]

Professor Hara Fyrstan, in fairy robes; remastered concept.

Tale 31: If We Lost The Sea Wives (chapter 1 - Northland Family 1/5 ) part 7. Stories of Magic Forests

no warings

              Hara Fyrstan tends the Fey Conservatory, with great care; He was a prodigy, filling the role his grandfather once did. In fact, they weren’t too different from each other, in looks, roles and personality. Both red haired, grey eyed, fey loving, Northland bred passionate professors. Both with big hearts, and equal compassion for all living things; Including fey. This due to both of them being born, and raised, in the farthest North West tip of Elden Kingdom: The magic Isle of Isfisceard. This mystical ancient place, had the most magical sea in the world. Every inch of the village and islands, was coated in fey. It made the people invested in their land, and its connection to fey of the sea. Naturally, this included Hara and his grandfather, Saturn.

The fey conservatory of Pepperidge academy, which was used for rehabilitation and education, was Grandfather Firepot’s greatest accomplishment. It is a school treasure. All teachers, students, and fey; enjoyed the peaceful atrium. It is a glass walled, three stories tall, magic garden withing the school. Hara dreamed of this job, ever since his grandfather told him stories about it. It inspired Hara to work hard in his Northland schooling, to immigrate to to The Grand West, just for the position. When Hara got there, he made the most of his success. Pepperidge Academy’s infrastructure, community, and fey, received only the best love and care from their new head seer. Hara had gone so far, as to make all of Pepperidge a protected magic forest, like his ow. He had quite the reputation after only a year’s employment. Hara was incredibly thankful for his grandfather, who helped inspire and teach him.

              The conservatory didn’t just hold and heal ferries and wonderous plants, but also aquatic fey; Fish children, Sea wives, or Daughter of The Sea, as Hara knew them. As a mage of the Northlands, Hara should have a complex and deep relationship with the daughters of the sea, but instead his qualms with the Fish Kingdom came from one of his students; Rah Wintersleep. Rah was also a mage, but instead of a seer of magic knowledge like Hara, he was charmer that sung spells. Rah was also a storm-breaker, that caused epic storms when magic flowed through him in times of joy. He was working on controlling it, with a storm staph. Rah was not only Hara’s responsibility as a student, but had fallen into a trap Hara’s kin often do; Loving a maiden from the waves. Sorry, mister of the waves. While preparing food for the fey, in the back room, Hara got to over hear Rah, and his true love, Fish Prince Broc. Hara spied on everyone who came into the conservatory, in order to protect the fey and students.

“The selkie your mother made, which you suggested to her; I think she’s actually infatuated with our witchery teacher.” Rah said. He was charming the small pearly cuttle Kraken in the fountain. Hara perked up at the word Selkie.

“Oh, yeah. He’s probably going to love her back. Selkies often suffer from Stockholm’s syndrome, so it’s nice to see a little sister find actual true love; Instead of being kidnapped.” Broc smiled. Hara was too busy in school for seal gawking, back home. Rah and Broc’s conversation was making him nostalgic. As if the distant tune of proverbial bagpipes, was calling him hither.

“Now that you’re my queen in waiting, and the wolf kingdom fell into disrepair, I worry for my mother.” Broc continued. “She always frequents the Day Veil of men, but now mages have made the Beast King’s more willing to see view humanity in person. I doubt people will take kindly to a ghostly giant mermaid, or bewitchingly radiant maiden. I don’t want to be Fish King so soon. I will worry for all my new daughters, while I mourn my Mother and little siblings.” Broc said. Rah hugged Broc, to comfort him.

“I’m sorry I’m too young to be queen of a fey kingdom yet. I worry I’d be a bad fish Dad; No one can top your father Lyra… Besides; your mother, father, and family are very well loved. It would be a tragedy to all who adore the water’s fair folk. I can’t imagine life without ocean fey. All beautifully crafted, and sweet of song.” Rah said. He was getting sad, which was unusual. The two of then gazed into the pool of miniature kraken, nuzzled together like gannets.

Hara slumped. Imagining the world with fewer fey, was a chilling thought to someone who spent their life learning about and helping them. The thought that the bays of Isfisceard, could no longer echo with the haunting melody of the fish children, seemed unnatural. The ocean would have no song, no feminine beauty, and no more wonder. Hara considered if he had taken it all for granted. Rah’s words made him think of home, and all it’s verdant cliffside isles. Home would be nothing without the Sirens on the oddly formed sea walls, mermaids in the rivers and glens, selkies on the beaches, or krakens listening in the deep. The smell of sea salt, vibrancy of the hills, wool of sheep and music of home. Hara wilted at the thought of all that vanishing. It made him feel like life was short, and that he wanted to see it all again. The fey of the fish kingdom, were the ones that inspired him to study and conserve fey. They taught him he was a mage, and how to interact with the world of magic. Hara wanted to experience that again. All of this in the span of the ten minutes it took to pour milk into little labeled saucers for the pixies.

After the school day was done, Hara went to his dorm, to see his dragon princess trying to cuddle Woodwick. Hara had become a queen in waiting himself, but to the Dragon Kingdom; Fleoganan was his true love. She was an optimistic idiot. Which is an underappreciated quality in people. Hara’s heart filling with love when embracing her, combined with a day’s brooding, reminded him that his family hadn’t met Fleog yet. They had already shared the undying true love’s spell, and Grandpa knew nothing of it. Then Hara saw Woodwick, innocently preparing for tomorrow’s lessons. Woodwick also remined Hara of home; He was technically Hara’s adoptive uncle. Woodwick was one of the last two fountain nymphs, which grandfather had found on a black market. These Naiads turned the flowing pools they bathed in, into water that could heal any wound. Yet, Woodwick’s dream was to be human; And due to his value, grandpa adopted Woodwick, and kept his identity secret. This gave Woodwick his dream, by fooling everyone. Nymphs can be very convincingly human. In fact, the unpublished research grandpa Firepot left to Hara, on Woodwick’s desire for humanness, helped Hara conserve local fey.  It gave common folk, including wizards, empathy towards fey, similar to mages.

When Woodwick and Hara first met, it was on a road trip to the family beach home. They spent time packed into a hot car, after being picked up at the Main Northland Station. Their little home was in the middle of nowhere, as Isfisceard was an isolated heritage village, by the Fish Gate into the Shadow Veil of fey. The small house was on a sandy beach, along the main road into the cove. South of the magic academy and village, west of the train station. Hara was not fooled by his grandfather’s insistence that Woodwick was just a tween he adopted. Hara, though a child, was an avid seer mage; He knew a fairy when he saw one. Hara never asked why Grandpa adopted a fey, and never mentioned that he knew. Woodwick had just become a normal member of his family.

It was official; Hara missed his. He hadn’t seen his grandfather, or parents, since he graduated and arrived in Pepperidge. Hara decided he wanted to visit home, the next chance he got.

“Woodwick, I want to go home for the semester break; Want to come? Fleog, you have to meet my family.” Hara chimed.

“I’m not particularly interested.” Woodwick said. “Then again, it would make your grandfather very happy.”

“I can’t believe your not homesick. I keep forgetting that under all that professor, is a fairy.” Hara sighed. Woodwick as a fey, lived a timeless state with no opinions of past or future. Missing something, would require opinions regarding the past.

“Well, now that I know seeking a familiar face is human thing, I may consider myself persuaded.” Woodwick responded. He wanted to be human, and was very assertive about it. There was a time he was also convinced he was a real boy, and not some changeling. He was focusing too much on the words, and not enough of the familial aspects. Hara apologized, and made the plans. He felt good about visiting his safe, unchanged, childhood home. That was on a specific abandoned beach, close to the fey of the sea.

NEXT--->

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #short stories #story 31 #hara #firepot #WoodWick #rah #broc #fleog

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Pressing Engagement ch1 (Not baon AU)

Summary: Labeling things can be difficult, for everyone involved

Notes: Oh, I don't know, this sort of popped into my brain today and sometimes, I like to see the maybes and might haves.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Fluff and Angst, Dating, Developing Relationship, Humor

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Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

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It wasn’t a date, really. More like a standing lunch appointment where they met up wherever the local food trucks were congregating that day. Edge was a fussy bitch when it came to food, but what kind of monster (heh) would turn down fresh seafood po’ boys with truffle Parmesan fries? Not one that Stretch wanted to hang out with, for sure.

The trucks were always busy, Humans and Monsters lining up for tasty treats. Using Edge’s strategy of divide and conquer, they queued in separate lines, gathering up a collection of paper trays lined with greasy waxed paper and holding heavenly balls of deep-fried goodness, along with the less heavenly but still delicious vegan junk that Edge always wanted, under the theory that unhealthy plus good for you would sort of cancel each other out into balanced nutrition.

Look, if it got him food, Stretch was willing to bend science a little.

The park was crowded, any tables were already claimed, if not by people than by their possessions. By the time Stretch was juggling their po’ boys and fries, Edge was through the vegan line and sitting under a tree in the grass, their Buddha bowls and moussaka artfully arranged around him. The pastoral serenity of the scene contrasted in interesting ways to the leather-clad skeleton in the middle of it all and if Stretch didn’t know that Edge would object, loudly and strenuously, he would’ve taken a picture. Called it modern art, skeleton on a theme of lunch.

“hope you grabbed napkins,” Stretch said cheerfully, plopping down in the grass to lay out his own spread.

“I did not. I brought my own,” Edge said, because of course he did, every week. Linen napkins that they both spread over their laps as they shared out the goods and dug in. Strange how growing up in murder world made a guy into a terminal recycler, but Edge was a guy who understood living under strict limitations.

The first bite of his po’ boy made Stretch groan aloud, greedily chewing fried blobs of briny shrimp and oysters couched in a bed of crisp lettuce and tomato. Waterfall aside, there wasn’t much seafood in the Underground and Stretch got a serious appreciation for it once they hit the Aboveground. Edge liked surfing on the ocean more than eating what was swimming in it and even he was eating appreciatively.

It was all good, tasty food, sunny day, perfectly awesome even if it wasn’t actually a date, and if it ended with them heading back to one of their places for some rough and rowdy bootknockin’, eh, well, that was kinda how Stretch liked it. They didn’t need it to be an official date, seriously, that was for people who just started going out, not for guys who’d been together for a few years. Once you’d shared a toothbrush, you didn’t need that kind of shit, right, and Stretch was pretty sure Edge’d forgiven him for that, he’d only done it the once and only because he couldn’t get the taste of garlic off his teeth. That was the last time he tried aioli on their not-dates.

Dessert was rice pudding with fresh mango and around a spoonful of creamy deliciousness Stretch mumbled out, “so, how about undyne and alphys finally tying the knot, huh?”

“Ridiculous,” Edge scoffed.

“right? i always figured them for getting married two weeks after their first date, took ‘em long enough—” Stretch trailed off as Edge scoffed again, louder and with some dangerous spoon waving to go with it.

“Marriage is a ridiculous institution,” Edge said irritably. “If you need to be married in order to feel as though you’re committed to one another, then the relationship is already doomed to failure. But then, most supposedly committed relationships are.” He took a fierce bite of his pudding, teeth closing dangerously around the poor, abused spoon. “That’s why I prefer what we have. No ties, no strings, you live in your apartment and I share my house with my brother. It works for both of us and we don’t need any absurd social constructs to determine what we are for each other.”

It took a minute for Stretch to realize Edge was looking at him expectantly, “yeah,” he said belatedly, rolling his shoulders laconically before leaning against the rough trunk of the tree shading them, “yeah, no strings, no ties, free as birds, tweet tweet.”

That earned him a chuckle, “Tweet tweet?”

“you prefer caw caw?” Stretch teased and his voice was normal, easy. Good. “grackle? i’d give you a kookaburra cackle but last time i tried it i couldn’t talk for two days.”

“Better not,” Edge’s voice was anything but normal, low and smoky, inviting the sorts of things that usually stirred up plenty of different emotions in Stretch’s rib cage, all the way down to his pelvis, and wasn’t it a damn shame his soul was all full up right now. Edge went on, as thick and sweet as the honey Stretch tended to crave. “you’ll want to save your voice for something better.”

“yeah, about that,” Stretch poked at his empty pudding cup, his spoon rattling, “actually, i think i’m gonna head home.”

Edge frowned. Rightfully so, Stretch didn’t usually turn down sex, it was a better dessert than any at the trucks, even the lava chocolate cakes that always sold out. “Are you all right?”

“just a little tired,” Stretch shrugged. “think i’ll turn in early.” He didn’t mention low HP and neither did Edge, who only nodded.

“Then let me drop you off,” Edge started gathering up their trash, separating it out and bagging it up to dump in his home recycling. “You’ll be on the bus for an hour.”

There wasn’t a good reason for Stretch to refuse, so he didn’t. He sat on the passenger side and closed his sockets, let the motion of the car and the shitty crooner music that Edge listened to lull him into a near-sleep. The ride was too short for him to zonk out entirely, but he was still drowsy when Edge nudged him, let him steal a brief, easy kiss before he slid out the door into the parking lot of his apartment building.

Stretch waved as Edge drove away, then bypassed the front door entirely and instead took a shortcut upstairs. Not inside his apartment, but to the fire escape that everyone in the building used instead as a sort of rattling balcony. There was a ratty deckchair in the corner, shoved in tight to keep from impeding the steps, and that was where Stretch sat as he dug out his cigarettes.

He was halfway through the first, basking in the nicotine rush, when he heard the window opening above him then boots on metal steps. He sank deeper into the creaky chair, bracing himself.

“Papy!” Blue called happily as he descended the stairs. His apartment was directly above Stretch’s, their version of a compromise when Stretch gently told his bro that he wanted his own place. The Fell brothers could live together if they wanted and did, and Stretch didn’t judge them for it. But Stretch had let his life revolve around his brother for a long damn time and once they were on the surface, facing the sunshine and an entire change of life, Stretch decided he wanted that change to go a little further and told Blue with as much blunt kindness as he could that he wanted his own place.

Blue got over it and in Stretch’s opinion, their relationship was better for having a little necessary space. Now his little bro leaned over the last metal rail, his starry eye lights bright as he beamed at Stretch and asked, "Well? How did it go??”

Stretch looked away, blowing out a long stream of silent smoke.

That eagerness softened, wilted. “Ah. It went like that.”

“yeah,” Stretch stubbed out his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray tucked underneath his chair, lit another. “guess it’s a good thing i dipped a toe into the river first, bringing up undyne and al’s wedding. didn’t know it was the rubicon i was trying to cross.”

Better than bringing out that little velvet box still tucked away in his hoodie pocket, it seemed. Not like he’d been planning a big production or anything, fuck no, Edge would’ve hated that, already hated it when Humans gave them side-eyes and stares. Nah, the plan was to bring it up casual-like over dessert and now he was pretty fucking glad he hadn’t. The ache in his chest was one he’d get over, give him a few days and a few smokes and he’d be right as rain, left as lightning, all that shit. Having to deal with that hurt on top of Edge turning him down, (rudely, coldly, highly possible, gently, awkwardly, so much worse) wasn’t something he wanted to give a try.

Blue came down the rest of the stairs at a more sedate pace, wrapping both arms around Stretch into a painfully tight hug, “I’m so sorry, brother.”

“eh, probably just as well,” Stretch tossed his second butt into the ashtray and resisted the urge to light another. He’d smoke his way through the pack once Blue went back upstairs, no reason for both of them to be miserable. “he’s working his way up at the embassy, he doesn’t need a lazy shit like me holding him back.”

He could feel Blue struggling not to argue and damn well appreciated it. He wanted to bask in his pain for right now, fucking savor it, his own soul served up as another casualty of the food trucks. Save the rah rah cheerleading for when he was more equipped to hear it.

“guess i better find out if the jewelry shop take returns or something,” Stretch sighed, “having a wedding ring laying around the house feels a lot like having a loaded gun, you don’t want anyone to find it unexpectedly.”

He fumbled for the little box, absently thinking of what would be a good day to head in to the shop, he was pretty sure he still had the receipt and—

In his hoodie pocket was his lighter, his smokes, a little baggie of dog treats, a handful of change since Stretch was physically incapable of walking past a vending machine, something his collection of small toys and weird condoms would attest to. No black velvet box that would never be opened in offering, showing off a simple pair of bands that he’d spent an hour agonizing over with an exceptionally patient salesperson, cause hell, they’d been not-dating for years now, maybe it was time to toss a label on all this. Except it wasn’t and neither was that little box.

“it’s not here.” No box. No rings, what the fuck. Horrified realization hit with the force of a two-ton slap. “it must’ve fallen out!”

“Oh, dear,” Blue tutted, “if it was at the park, someone likely took it.”

“i’d rather they did than him find it! edge gave me a ride home!” Stretch hissed. Panic was tight in his chest, fuck, fuck, “what if it’s in his car? i gotta get it back, i gotta!"

"Brother, calm down,” Blue tried, unconvincingly, “it might not even be in his car.”

“i have to check!” Stretch moaned. He couldn’t let Edge find it first, fuck, somehow he’d stepped out of the path of a speeding car straight into an oncoming semi-truck. “i can't let him find it! fuck!” He latched onto his brother’s shoulders, clutching desperately, “bro, you gotta help me!”

Blue still looked pretty doubtful but this was his brother, his little bro, and for years it’d only been the two of them there for each other, years and tears and love, was there anything they wouldn’t do for each other, even participate in an impromptu jewelry heist?

So it wasn’t a surprise when Blue nodded, finally, sighing out, “All right, brother, what did you have in mind?”

~~*~~

Read Chapter 2

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus

[heteroflexiblecastiel]

alchemy: Anwe. altmer, in her 70s. grew up in skyrim, learned most of what she knows at the college of winterhold. at the college, developed what was seen by her more traditional, academic peers as a Strange and Disturbing interest in explosive alchemical compounds. after years of study, got fucking tired of the climate and the stuffy atmosphere and traveled to the imperial city. met the pickpocket in the market district trying to... pick her pocket. she was charmed more than she was angry, and they've been married for 10 years now

pickpocket: Mirile. dunmer, 60s. grew up in the imperial city poor as dirt, learned to survive, pretty standard story for someone of her talents. ran with the thieves guild for awhile, but had a serious personal disagreement with the local doyen and has distanced herself from the organization, though she still has a few friends and contacts. very charming, can bluff, flirt, spin yarns, etc to get out of nearly any situation.

illusion: Kurz gro-Shazgh. orc, 90s. not incredibly old for an orc, but always seems to have a wealth of experience and lots of stories to share (preferably over drinks). he's seen and done a lot in his time, and he's generally pretty laid back and not too easy to surprise. kind of a ho, but respectful about it. he's so easygoing that it's easy to forget he's like.. an incredibly powerful mage. also has a decent grasp of destruction and alteration, but illusion has always been his specialty.

lockpick: J'zisha. khajiit, 25ish. a bit reserved, quiet. least likely of the group to share personal information, has a way of talking around even the most direct questions. really deeply sweet and caring tho. like ppl don't know how to interpret him and tend to think of him as selfish or unreliable as a result, but in a tough situation he has got your BACK no questions asked. seems to have some formal medical training. doesn't really want anything to do with the thieves guild

sneak: Simone Boucher. breton, early 20s. snide, sarcastic, unapproachable. very, very good at what she does though, so despite personality conflicts with almost everyone she's in the group to stay. has some schooling, but won't say where she studied. hints heavily at dark brotherhood involvement at any opportunity but no one can tell if she's just trying to seem intimidating (most of them kinda believe it) (it's true). secretly.. way deep down...... has a MASSIVE crush on one of the group but will die before admitting it. which one? my secret >:)

acrobat: Deetum-Rah. argonian, nobody can even guess how old he is but he seems like..... really young. like possibly a teenager. everyone kinda treats him like the younger brother.. which he doesn't rly mind (because he is, in fact, only 16 and doesn't want to push anything). left behind family in black marsh to follow his older brother to the imperial city, but the brother is.. kind of a dick and doesn't have much time for him due to being a very busy merchant. misses his mom a lot. doesn't have enough money to get himself back to black marsh, and kind of doesn't want to anyway (he LOVES the city life and has made friends with a lot of the citys less-fortunates and ne'er-do-wells)

#for reference: im assuming that khajiit and argonians have comparable lifespans to humans #and orcs have the same lifespan as other mer #so the 90 y/o orc is like. middle aged #tes

[akozuheiwa]

My @toa-secret-santa gift for @stix-n-bread! You wanted either reckless Aaarrrgghh!!! and Blinky or Draal Christmas stuff, so I ended up doing some Draal Christmas stuff! I really hope you enjoy! <3 <3 <3

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Jim would like it noted, for the record, that it was actually his mom’s idea to bring Draal with them to get a Christmas tree. Now that trolls were well-known in Arcadia, most local businesses had at least some late-night hours in case they wanted to drop by, and the local tree farm was no exception.

“Explain it to me again,” Draal demands as they walk towards the farm.

“Every year, we go to this tree farm to pick out a Christmas tree,” says Mom. “We chop it down and bring it home, and then we decorate it.”

“Hmm,” says Draal. His eyes light up. “So you murder a tree and decorate its corpse! I think I like this fleshbag tradition.”

Mom opens her mouth to explain that’s not really how it works, but Jim shakes his head. Some human things just don’t translate. If Draal wants to refer to it as tree murder or something, who are they to stop him?

They reach the tree farm. The person working there – there only seems to be one at this hour – looks a little surprised to actually see a troll that isn’t Jim. Draal looks around as Mom grabs the measuring pole.

“I will find us the largest and best of these trees,” he says. “It will make for a worthy trophy for your home!”

“Hang on, buddy,” laughs Jim. “It’s gotta be one that fits.”

Draal harrumphs. “I suppose.”

“And once we find it,” says Mom, “I brought this.”

She hoists up the chainsaw they only ever break out of the attic for getting a Christmas tree, which is probably for the best because Mom with a chainsaw year-round is a kind of scary thought.

Draal tilts his head. “What is that… contraption?”

Mom turns on the chainsaw. Draal’s eyes light up. The only thing Jim can think is, oh, no.

“Perhaps you humans do have a few good ideas,” he says.

“Okay,” says Jim, before Draal can actually get his hands on the chainsaw. “Let’s find that tree, shall we?”

They venture farther into the tree farm, where the somewhat bigger trees are. Draal inspects each one he passes with narrowed eyes. Mom uses the measuring pole like a walking staff.

“We want one that’s not too sparse but not too dense,” she says. “Not crooked, either, and nice and green.”

Draal nods solemnly. “Understood, Bar-bu-rah.”

Mom pats Draal on the forearm and Jim shakes his head in amusement. She’s all but adopted Draal as a second son. Jim knows Draal secretly loves it, especially when Mom cooks for them – turns out her cooking tastes great to trolls. Even Jim was pleasantly surprised.

It’s kind of weird this year, for a lot of reasons. Jim’s never been to the tree farm in the dark before, for one thing, and for another, he’s a lot taller. As tall as some of the trees, even. Draal is the tallest, of course. They probably don’t even need the chainsaw – Draal could rip the tree right out of the ground.

“Here’s one!” Draal exclaims. Jim has to do a double-take when he realises Draal has wandered several yards away from them. Maybe he should have been paying more attention. He and Mom walk over to join the troll. Mom stands the measuring pole next to the tree and nods.

“Looks pretty good,” she says. “Alright, boys, what do you say we chop this thing down and get it home?”

Draal grins as Mom starts up the chainsaw again. He steps out of the way.

“The Bar-bu-rah would fit right in among trolls,” Draal says.

“I mean, she does live with three trolls,” Jim points out.

“No,” says Draal. “You and Stricklander don’t count the same. I mean the trolls of Trollmarket.”

“Alright, fair,” says Jim.

The tree falls with a tremendous fwomp. Mom turns off the chainsaw. “Do you think you boys can carry that?”

“Easily!” Draal exclaims. He hoists the tree over his shoulder. “I will carry the spoils of our tree hunt back to the house, where we will decorate our prize.”

“Well, first we have to pay for it, big guy,” Jim says.

Draal huffs. “Fleshbag customs. Pah.”

They bring the tree back to the front of the farm to pay for it. Luckily – since they walked here – Draal doesn’t seem troubled by the weight in any way. Jim offers to help him carry it but this gets a sarcastic remark about how small he is for a troll, so he lets Draal carry it home.

“Bring it in the living room,” says Mom. “I’m going to go get the boxes of ornaments. We’ll have to put up some of the ones Jim made when he was little.”

“Oh, no,” says Jim.

“Oh, yes,” says Mom.

Draal chuckles delightedly as he brings the tree in. Jim scowls.

“I’m going to ask around until I can find stuff from your childhood,” he says.

Draal’s grin turns sharp. “I’d like to see you try, Trollhunter.”

“Is that a challenge?” Jim shoots back.

“You should know by now,” says Draal, “everything is a challenge.”

“Then you’re on,” Jim says.

Draal sets the tree down on the carpet, which Mom’s not going to be happy about. They’re going to have to clean up all the needles now. The big troll clasps Jim’s shoulder. Even now the act nearly bowls Jim over.

“Thank you,” he says with an awkward cough. “For including me. Don’t make it weird.”

“Never would,” says Jim. “And of course we included you. You’re family.”

Draal’s returning grin is brighter than lights hanging outside. Jim lightly punches his shoulder.

“Come on,” he says. “We better stand this thing up before Mom gets back.”

“Yes,” he agrees. The two of them lift up the tree and start setting it in the stand. “For a human, your mother can be… intimidating.”

Jim laughs. “She definitely can be.”

#toa secret santa #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #stix-n-bread #draal the deadly #jim lake jr #barbara lake #merry christmas!!! #i really hope you like this #I thought Draal would enjoy cutting down a christmas tree so #yeah #fluff #<3 #toasecretsanta2019

[maxineswritingcenter]

Cinderella AU - Dean x fem!reader

There once was a man, a good man. He loved his family very much, his wife and young daughter, (Y/N). Father and daughter were inseperable, they were the best of friends. After a mysterious illness, his wife died and the man remarried. The woman, Druscilla Tremaine, and her daughters, Anastasia and Drizella, moved into their home. And just as before, the man followed his wife to the grave. This left (Y/N) at the hands of three witches who forced her to clean house and run errands for spell ingredients. What the witches didn't know what that the girl had been learning all these years and had found some magic abilities of her own. There was a meeting of the coven soon, a fabulous party for powerful witches.

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

In the darkness of my tiny room I practiced. I practiced and practiced. I practiced by candle light to hide what I was doing. Druzilla, my actual evil stepmother, would literally kill me if she found me doing magic. At any opportunity, I would write down spells of little bits of paper and hide them in a notebook I kept under my bed.

It was early, I could be caught at any moment now. But it wasn't fair. The spell that my step mother was going to use required a life, she was going to be using a field mouse from the backyard. The little thing didn't deserve to suffer. From it's tiny cage, I lifted him out with one hand and fed him a tiny piece of cheese. He held it in his little paws and ate away, not a care in the world.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, gently petting the top of its head. From the table next to me, I grabbed a pinch of chamomile and blew it into the mouse's face.

I took a deep breath and sounded out the spell I heard, "bah rah gah doh." The mouse halted and fell limp. My eyes widened and I panicked. Did I kill it? Do I do something wrong? Pronounce something wrong? I held the little mouse close to my ear, hearing its tiny heart beat. My shoulders relaxed and I put the little mouse back in it's little plastic prison.

"There you go... Sleep now." I whispered. Suddenly loud footsteps thundered down the hall. I quickly took my notebook and shoved it under my bed and blew out the candle. My door opened, blinding me with the light from the hallway.

"Ah, you're awake. Decided to sleep in, did you?" Druscilla looked down at me with her pointed eyes.

"I was up late cleaning up... From your ritual." The ritual where she literally drained a person of their blood to keep her young. The victim was a college girl passing through town. The locals would blame an animal, just like they were spelled to do.

"Well that's no excuse, is it?" She said, putting her hands on her hips.

"No." I said, not looking her in the eyes.

"No, what?"

"No, ma'am."

She humpfed, "That's what I thought. Now get ready. I need that mouse. There are hunters in town and I'll be damned if they find me. Especially before the party." She left the room, slamming the door behind her. I winced at the sound, looking back at the little mouse, still sound asleep.

"What I wouldn't do, little mouse, what I wouldn't do." I sighed and got ready for the day. Hair in a messy bun, t-shirt, jeans, socks, shoes, nothing special. My step monster spent my dad's money on clothes and riches for her and her daughters. Anastasia and Drizella. Anastasia wasn't so bad, she mostly followed the crowd. It was Drizella I had to watch out for. Drizella liked to play with fire, I had the scars on my legs to prove that her spells worked. Nothing like having your pants set on fire in the middle of dinner. I made my way down to the main floor of the house, the little cage in hand. I set the cage down on the alter table and took a deep breath.

"Hey!" A shrill voice made me jump, there in the doorway to the living room was Drizella.

"I thought I told you to iron my dress." She held up the dress that I ironed the previous night, "It's all wrinkled!"

"I did iron it." I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

"Not good enough. Need I remind you of what I can do?" She glared. Soon after Anastasia appeared, plate in hand.

"(Y/N), I'm hungry. Why isn't breakfast ready?" She asked.

"Because she's going to reiron my dress." Drizella snapped at her sister.

"No, she's making breakfast first!" Anastasia whined back. They both started yelling at each other back and forth until their mouths snapped shut with a snap of Druscilla's fingers.

"Now, now, girls, what is all this ruckus?" She eyed me, "(Y/N), what have you done now?"

I shook my head, "I didn't do anything-"

"I see. That explains it then. Well do something. Make breakfast, iron her dress, and then run to the apothecary. I need more ashwood." She grabbed my arm, pushing up my sleeve to show the scar on my arm where she placed a hex bag, "If the shop keep gives you any trouble you know what will happen. And you wouldn't want to hurt him, would you?" I shook my head.

"Good." She dropped my arm and with a flick of her wrist, I was sent towards the kitchen.

-

The streets were crowded, it was pretty unusual for this tiny town but with the meeting of the coven the town was buzzing. They were also buzzing because of the idea of hunters. Druscilla said hunters were bad, but I didn't think anyone could be as bad as her. I entered the apothecary, just like I did every week. The little bell chimed and I felt safe for the time being. The shopkeep was understanding of my situation and knew what Druscilla could do. The shopkeep was a friendly man. His smile was warm and welcoming. He was tall and usually wore a grey sweater, probably to hide all of his warding tattoos. His business was a dangerous one. I made my way up to the register and smiled.

"I can't find the ashwood, did you move it?" I asked.

He shook his head, "No, I'm afraid that someone put my stock on reserve, they got a big harvest day ritual coming up."

My heart sunk, "But, She need ashwood. I can't go back without it."

He shrugged, "I'm sorry. The client already paid for all of it."

My arm started to burn and so did my eyes, "Please." I gasped in pain, "There has to be something left."

His eyes widened, "Hey now, I told you I don't have any to give Druscilla and you can go tell her that."

My blood started to boil with rage and my breathing became ragged, "Please." I said through gritted teeth.

"I told you no." He said. My rage took over and I snarled, lunging at him over the counter. I took him to the ground, wrapped my hands around his throat. He grabbed my wrists, looking up at me with bulging eyes.

"Stop!" He managed to say.

"I can't!" I growled, pressing harder. His eyes rolled back and his fighting stopped. I found the will to let go and scrambled away from the man, taking off out of the shop.

I made my way to the hardware store, stopping outside to watch as old black Chevy park in front of the Apothecary.

-

"Tempered ashwood?!" Druscilla screamed and threw the wood planks at me after I presented her with a bag of it from the hardware store. I shielded my head with my arms as they fell down on me.

"You come back here with tempered ashwood?! What am I supposed to do with this?!" She screamed.

"It's all I could find! The apothecary was out!" I shouted back over the sound of her destroying plates that I would have to clean up later.

"Excuses! Always with the excuses, (Y/N)! I have raised you and fed you, kept you off the streets and you give me tempered ashwood?! How ungrateful." She spat. She walked away and went back to her stone alter where Drizella and Anastasia had been watching. She took the little mouse from his cage and shook him a bit with a confused look on his face.

"Why is it sleeping?" She looked down her nose at me.

"I-I don't know." I stuttered.

Druscilla rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter." She took a sharp knife from the alter and I looked away while she ended the little life in her hand. I looked back after the last of it's blood was drained into a silver bowl. She then, pricked her finger with the knife. Anastasia and Drizella followed, they each let a drop of blood fall into a bowl.

"Cloaking flame, I ignite you. The fire born from blood leaves behind no witch. Now vanish me from the danger's sight. O fire of power and concealment." Druscilla threw some herbs into the bowl and it ignited into a red flame.

"Cloaking flame. That will keep us safe from any hunter that we should come into contact with. As long as this flame burns, they can't see us." Where was that spell when I was hiding from that damn cat, Lucifer.

On cue, the devil cat that I'm sure was spawned from Druscilla appeared. It was a large black cat with unsettling yellow eyes. It strutted past me and towards the alter. Drizella tossed the corpse of the mouse to the cat who caught it in its mouth.

"There's mommy's little helper." Druscilla sighed fondly at him. Lucifer, who didn't meow, but growled back at her.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Druscilla looked at me with a finger pressed to her lips.

"You know what to do." She said. I closed my eyes and stood up. When I opened them I walked towards the door and opened it. On the porch were two tall men, one taller than the other. They were dressed in dress pants and white button downs.

"Is this the Tremaine residence?" The taller one asked.

"Yes." I avoided eye contact, pulling my sleeves down to hide the scar.

"Well, this is Brother Samuel and I'm Brother Dean. We're here from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints. May we come in?" The other man with bright green eyes gave me a million dollar smile.

"No." I said.

"Are you sure?" Brother Samuel asked. He had saggy brown hair and hazel eyes that were kind and welcoming, "From what we heard in town the family used to be avid church goers."

"That was before my mother died. My father lost faith. So did I." I quickly looked over my shoulder at the witches then back at the Mormons, "This really isn't a good time." I tried to close the door but the green eyed man stepped forward and held the door open with his foot.

"Ma'am, is everything alright. Are you in some sort of danger?" Brother Dean asked, his eyes scanning over my face like a lazer. I winced when I felt the spell beginning to take it's hold on me.

"Please go." I whimpered, the burning began to take effect in my eyes. Which he seemed to notice because he backed off and smiled.

"Perhaps another time." Brother Samuel said, "Have a nice day." I quickly closed the door, leaning against it and breathing heavily.

"Those must be the hunters." Anastasia said, "They didn't notice us at all."

Drizella smirked, "Mother, may I keep one. The green eyed one got my blood pumping."

"No, no, Drizella. I have a plan for them. Involving..." She looked at me with a smirk, "Our guard dog."

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

Tis the beginning of a story based Loosely off of Cinderella, I'm trying my best.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated!

Read part two here!

If you would like to be tagged in this series, send me an ask!

General tag:

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@somebodyto-love

@beanie-beebo

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@tloveswriting

@samros95

@calaofnoldor

#cinderella!au #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural creatures #supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural

[for-gold-and-glory]

Blitzball Tournament: Menphina Madness

I'm mulling over ideas for next season, and there's a few teams that might get renamed. And I’m working on the Wild Card Team. These are the ideas thus far, I don’t think we’ll make a decision on the Wild Card until March, but let me know what sounds good! Limsa Lominsan:   Sanguine Sirens   (formerly Black Abyss) Uldah: Gil Turtles (same) Gridania: Sea Chocobos (same) Ishgard: The Eyes (same) Ala Mhigo: Royal Griffons or Thunder Coeruls Eastern: Kugane Koban Crushers or Doman Hell Frogs Garlemald: Salt Barons   (formerly Classiarii Technici) Wild Card: Mor Dhona Crystal Braves, Thavnair Corsairs, Doman Hellfrogs, Meracydia Mist Dragons, Azys Llas Allagan Abes

============================== Limsa Lominsan Sanguine Sirens ================================

They're back and under their own banner! Made famous for kidnapping and marooning the Bucaneers two years ago, the Sirens have earned their spot in Menphina Madness, not through piracy but through CRUSHING their opponents. Rumor has it, the Sanguine Sirens train in a secret pirate city located in a hidden cove in the Isles of Umbra.

Their team colors are: Black, red, and pink.

============================ Ala Mhigan Thunder Coeurls ===========================

THUNDERCATS ARE ON THE LOOSE! Based in Rhalgr's Reach, this team is fierce, proud, and full of salt. Normally, the Ala Mhigan team that scores the spot for Menphina Madness flies under the banner of 'the Royal Griffons' but the Thunder Coeurls have opted to keep their original name... and they're taking their big ass coeurl mascot with them to Kugane. Thunder Couerls ROAR!

========================= Garlemald Salt Barons =========================

Unrest in the Empire is effecting even the Blitzball team, as four - count them FOUR - teams show up in Kugane claiming to be the official representives of Garlemald. The Classiarri Technici, of course, have the most legitmate claim, but that doesn’t stop them in engaging in a bloody street battle in front of the Hydalyn Blitzball Association Consulate. Of course, authorities were called and the sekisei-gumi quickly cleaned up the situation.  But now the Empire has an even bigger problem! All four of their teams have been arrested and being held in Kugane! Stepping up to represent the Empire? The former Imperial Ala Mhigo Salt Barons! 

---

WILD CARDS:

======================== Mor Dhona Crystal Braves ========================

(Crystal Keepers, Crystal Lakers, Crystal Braves, Crystal Drakes - name is a work in progress)

From the aether infested lake of Mor Dhona comes the valiant Crystal Braves! This team of refugees and weirdos sports an incredibly unusual play style. One might assume their training and equipment to be humble in origin, but spectators are quickly shocked to discover that the Crystals are outfitted with super advance, hi-tec Allagan equipment. This team recruits from everywhere (and I mean EVERYWHERE).

Recruitment: Adventurers, Mor Dhona refugees/locals, Dalmascan, Castrum Centri based Garleans, Allagan experiments, First Shard characters

Icon: A crystal tower behind Midgarsomnr

OOC Notes: I'm pretty gung-ho for this team, so I don't have any concerns. It would serve as a great place for people with eccentric characters to play and I think it has a good theme

=================== Thavnairian Corsairs =====================

The Near East is taking to the high seas! State sponsored and highly trained, the Thavnairian Corsairs are the rival team of Limsa Lominsa. Also referred to as "the Gamblers," the Corsairs adapt to water through famed Thavnairian alchemic modifications. The base modification is irreversible, but in the interest of recruiting famed players from abroad, they have also developed a potion that temporarily achieves the same effect.

Recruitment: Thavnairian players, Far Easterners, adventurers

Note: The Corsair's modification turns the player into a chimera and is irreversible! This is not required to join the team, as they also have a 'breath in water' potion that can be used, but the offer is on the table!

Icon: Undecided

OOC Notes: I think these guys are cool, but I worry there isn't a big cross over between Thav RPers and people who want to play blitzball

================== Doman Hellfrogs ===================

From the hell pits of Doma, emerge the Doman Hellfrogs! This team means business, bringing the best of Othard to revel in the madness. Rumor has it that several members of the team are yokai. With the full support of the Doman Enclave and the Eastern Alliance, the Doman Hellfrogs are here to rah rah rah. I'll think of a better write up later.

Recruitment: Far and Near Eastern characters - Doman, Steppe, Higan, Kugane, Kojin/Lupin/Namazu, Thavnairian, Dalamascan, Nagxian, Western Adventurers! No Garleans.

Icon: A Hell Frog Colors: Red, Purple, Green

OOC Notes: I love the Hellfrogs, I think their aethestic is bad ass and I think there is a good amount of eastern players that also like to play blitzball. I'm mostly reluctant to remove the Koban Crushers, because they're the team that hosts Menphina Madness, and they're a good 'international' team for people who don't want to be too tied down in which country they represent. If the Hellfrogs are a Wild Card, I'm worried there might be too many 'Eastern Teams' to recruit for.

======================= Meracydia Mist Dragons ========================

The Merdragons are back! Representing the assorted Mi'qote Tribe, the Merdragons get their name from their ancestorial roots of Meracydia. They welcome both Keeper and Seeker members. You could call them a Panmiqo'te movement. Their mascot is the fierce but adorable Mist Dragon. They train in various facilities in Eorzea. However, they have recently attracted attention from 'parties from the south' and have been granted a boon of gifts from a mysterious sect of 'witchdoctors.' Is this the beginning of a Meracydian Revival?

Recruitment: Miqo'te only! Half-Miqo'te allowed.

Icon: The Mist Dragon Colors: pastel purple and blue

Notes: This team was easy to fill in the minor leagues, so I think it would do good!

====================== Azys Llas Allagan Abes =======================

Up in the forbidden island some new technology has been unearthed. An Allagan Blitzball Stadium! Hotly contested by the Eorzean Alliance and the VIth Legion, spectators were SHOCKED to discover that the two factions suddenly reached a compromise, forming a united team together and adopting the historical name: The Allagan Abes.

The Allagan Abes are a mixed group of players from the Ironworks and Eorzean Adventuring Guilds, the Eorzean Alliance, the VIth Legion, and Ishgard. The information surrounding their athletic alliance is shrouded in mystery and a source of contention for both sides, but their team has been recognized by the Blitzball Association. Utilizing ancient Allagan technology and training, the Abes have shot up as a terrifying dark horse. Rumor has it that they are being trained by an actual Allagan.

Rumor also has it that the players have been brainwashed and turned into Allagan chimeras

Recruitment: Eorzean, Garlean, Allagan players. You aren't going to be brainwashed, but you will be encouraged to take part in the story arc presented for this team! Chimeras also welcomed.

Icon: undecided Colors: undecided

Notes: \=D... I dunno. But this could be a fun story to tell!

Honorable Mentions: 

Sharlayan Aquamammets Unnamed Dalmascan Team (gonna wait for the MSQ for further information) The Marvelous Mascots

If you’re interested in playing in Menphina Madness, the next season begins n March! You can join our discord: https://discord.gg/XUju3HR

#blitzball #Menphina Madness

[blackkudos]

Melba Liston

Melba Doretta Liston (January 13, 1926 – April 23, 1999) was an American jazz trombonist, arranger, and composer. She was the first woman trombonist to play in big bands during the 1940s and 1960s, but as her career progressed she became better known as an arranger particularly in partnership with pianist Randy Weston.

Life and career

Liston was born in Kansas City, Missouri. At the age of seven, Melba's mother purchased her a trombone. Her family encouraged her musical pursuits, as they were all music lovers. Liston was primarily self-taught, but she was "encouraged by her guitar-playing grandfather" who she spent significant time with learning to play spirituals and folk songs. At the age of eight, she was good enough to be a solo act on a local radio station. At the age of ten, she moved to Los Angeles, California. She was classmates with Dexter Gordon, and friends with Eric Dolphy. After playing in youth bands and studying with Alma Hightower, she joined the big band led by Gerald Wilson in 1944.

She recorded with saxophonist Dexter Gordon in 1947 and joined Dizzy Gillespie's big band, which included saxophonists John Coltrane, Paul Gonsalves, and pianist John Lewis) in New York for a time when Wilson disbanded his orchestra in 1948. Liston performed in a supporting role and was nervous when asked to take solos, but with encouragement she became more comfortable as a featured voice in bands. She toured with Count Basie, then with Billie Holiday (1949) but was so profoundly affected by the indifference of the audiences and the rigors of the road that she gave up playing and turned to education. Liston taught for about three years.

She took a clerical job for some years and supplemented her income by taking work as an extra in Hollywood, appearing in The Prodigal (1955) and The Ten Commandments (1956). She returned to Gillespie for tours sponsored by the U.S. State Department in 1956 and 1957, recorded with Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers (1957), and formed an all-women quintet in 1958. In 1959, she visited Europe with the show Free and Easy, for which Quincy Jones was music director. She accompanied Billy Eckstine with the Quincy Jones Orchestra on At Basin Street East, released on October 1, 1961, by Verve.

In the 1960s she began collaborating with pianist Randy Weston, arranging compositions (primarily his own) for mid-size to large ensembles. This association, especially strong in the 1960s, would be rekindled in the late 1980s and 1990s until her death. In addition, she worked with Milt Jackson, Clark Terry, and Johnny Griffin, as well as working as an arranger for Motown, appearing on albums by Ray Charles. In 1964, she helped establish the Pittsburgh Jazz Orchestra. In 1971 she was chosen as musical arranger for a Stax recording artist Calvin Scott whose album was being produced by Stevie Wonder's first producer, Clarence Paul. On this album she worked with Joe Sample and Wilton Felder of the Jazz Crusaders, blues guitarist Arthur Adams, and jazz drummer Paul Humphrey. In 1973, she moved to Jamaica to teach at the Jamaica School of Music for six years before returning to the U.S. to lead her own bands.

During her time in Jamaica, she composed and arranged music for the 1975 comedy film Smile Orange starring Carl Bradshaw, who three years earlier starred in the first Jamaican film, The Harder They Come.

She was forced to give up playing in 1985 after a stroke left her partially paralyzed, but she continued to arrange music with Randy Weston. In 1987, she was awarded the Jazz Masters Fellowship of the National Endowment for the Arts. After suffering repeated strokes, she died in Los Angeles, California in 1999 a few days after a tribute to her and Randy Weston's music at Harvard University. Her funeral at St. Peter's in Manhattan featured performances by Weston with Jann Parker as well as by Chico O'Farrill's Afro-Cuban ensemble and by Lorenzo Shihab (vocals).

Composing and arranging

Her early work with the high-profile bands of Count Basie and Dizzy Gillespie shows a strong command of the big-band and bop idioms. However, perhaps her most important work was written for Randy Weston, with whom she worked for four decades from the early 1960s.

Liston worked as a "ghost writer" during her career. According to one writer, "Many of the arrangements found in the Gillespie, Jones, and Weston repertoires were accomplished by Liston."

Social meaning

Liston was a female in a profession of mostly males. Although some consider her an unsung hero, she is highly regarded in the jazz community. Liston was a trailblazer as a trombonist and a woman. She articulated difficulties of being a woman on the road.

"There's those natural problems on the road, the female problems, the lodging problems, the laundry, and all those kinda things to try to keep yourself together, problems that somehow or other the guys don't seem to have to go through."

She goes on to recount the struggles she experienced as an African American woman, which affected her musical career. However, she generally spoke positively about the camaraderie with and support from male musicians. Liston also dealt with larger issues of inequity in the music industry. One writer has said, "It was clear that she had to continually prove her credentials in order to gain suitable employment as a musician, composer, and arranger. She was not paid equitable scale and was often denied access to the larger opportunities as a composer and arranger."

Musical style

Liston's musical style reflects bebop and post-bop sensibilities learned from Dexter Gordon, Dizzy Gillespie, and Art Blakey. Her earliest recorded work—such as Gordon's "Mischievous Lady" a tribute to her—her solos show a blend of motivic and linear improvisation, though they seem to make less use of extended harmonies and alterations.

Her arrangements, especially those with Weston, show a flexibility that transcends her musical upbringing in the bebop 1940s, whether working in the styles of swing, post-bop, African musics, or Motown. Her command of rhythmic gestures, grooves, and polyrhythms is particularly notable (as illustrated in Uhuru Afrika and Highlife). Her instrumental parts demonstrate an active use of harmonic possibilities; although her arrangements suggest relatively subdued interest in the explorations of free jazz ensembles, they use an extended tonal vocabulary, rich with altered harmonic voicings, thick layering, and dissonance. Her work throughout her career has been well received by both critics and audiences alike.

Discography

As leader

Melba Liston and Her 'Bones (MetroJazz, 1959)

Volcano Blues with Randy Weston (Antilles, 1993)

As sidewoman or guest

With Art Blakey & the Jazz Messengers

1957 Art Blakey Big Band

1957 Theory of Art

1965 Hold On, I'm Coming

With Betty Carter

1958 Out There with Betty Carter

1961 I Can't Help It

With Ray Charles

1959 The Genius of Ray Charles

1962 The Ray Charles Story, Vol. 2

With Dizzy Gillespie

1955 Jazz Recital

1956 World Statesman

1957 Dizzy Gillespie at Newport

1957 Birks' Works

1957 Dizzy in Greece

With Quincy Jones

1959 The Birth of a Band!

1960 Swiss Radio Days Jazz Series, Vol. 1

1960 I Dig Dancers

1961 Newport '61

1961 The Great Wide World of Quincy Jones: Live!

1962 The Quintessence

1963 Plays Hip Hits

1965 I/We Had a Ball

1965 Quincy Plays for Pussycats

With Jimmy Smith

1963 Any Number Can Win

1966 Jimmy & Wes

1966 The Further Adventures of Jimmy and Wes

1966 Hoochie Coochie Man

1969 Jimmy Smith Plays the Blues

With Dinah Washington

1957 Dinah Washington Sings Fats Waller

1958 Dinah Washington Sings Bessie Smith

With Randy Weston

1958 Little Niles

1959 Destry Rides Again

1959 Live at the Five Spot

1961 Uhuru Afrika

1963 Highlife (album) - Music from the new African nations featuring the Highlife

1973 Tanjah

1992 The Spirits of Our Ancestors

1993 Volcano Blues

1997 Earth Birth

1998 Khepera

With others

1957 Last Chorus, Ernie Henry

1958 Back on the Scene, Bennie Green

1959 Rhythm Crazy, Jimmy Cleveland

1959 Tales of Manhattan, Babs Gonzales

1960 Trane Whistle, Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis

1961 African Waltz, Cannonball Adderley

1961 At Basin Street East, Billy Eckstine/Quincy Jones

1961 Rah, Mark Murphy

1961 The Chant, Sam Jones

1961 The Soul of Hollywood, Junior Mance

1962 Afro-American Sketches, Oliver Nelson

1962 Big Bags, Milt Jackson

1962 Bursting Out with the All Star Big Band!, Oscar Peterson

1962 Rhythm Is My Business, Ella Fitzgerald

1962 Snap Your Fingers, Al Grey

1962 The Complete Town Hall Concert, Charles Mingus

1962 This Is Billy Mitchell Featuring Bobby Hutcherson, Billy Mitchell

1963 For Someone I Love, Milt Jackson

1963 The Body & the Soul, Freddie Hubbard

1964 Mary Lou Williams Presents Black Christ of the Andes, Mary Lou Williams

1965 And Then Again, Elvin Jones

1966 Roll 'Em: Shirley Scott Plays the Big Bands, Shirley Scott

1967 A Mann & A Woman, Tamiko Jones/Herbie Mann

1967 Heads Up, Blue Mitchell

1968 Listen Here, Freddie McCoy

1970 Kim Kim Kim, Kim Weston

1973 That Lovin' Feelin' , Junior Mance

1978 Skylark, Freddie Hubbard

#01/13 #04/23