Jango/Kit, while on a negotiation mission Kit has an... unusual reaction to some of the local cuisine. Next thing he knows he's waking up barely clothed in a 'drunk tank' and being very cuddley to a grouchy bounty hunter. (At least Jango is trying to act grouchy. His pheromones say otherwise).
Raucous laughter sparks along Kit's nerves, sharp and mean and taunting, and he grimaces as he surfaces from the depths of unconsciousness, the taunting voice slowly sliding sideways into words. It takes a moment to make them out, another to understand them, but—
“Finally knock him out, Fett?”
“Tired of a pretty thing all over you? You could always hand him over.”
“Get karked.”
The third voice isn't taunting. It’s tense, sharp, with a warning edge, and Kit feels an arm wrapped around his lower back tighten faintly. Feels those cruel presences pass, laughing with each other, and then Fett's breath, a careful exhale.
Kit's head feels vaguely like it did that time Qui-Gon got him drunk on honey wine from a very specific plant on a very specific planet, and it’s not overtly unpleasant, but it’s rather alarming. Especially combined with the fact that Kit doesn’t seem to be wearing much more than his breeches, and even those are rolled up to his knees.
He’s also plastered face-first against a Human’s chest, nose practically buried in his shirt, and he has no memory at all of how exactly he ended up this way.
“Awake?” that sharp voice says, and the arm around his back doesn’t move, but the hand curled over his hip loosens slightly. “If you go for my belt again we’re going to have problems.”
“Not the entertaining kind, I assume,” Kit says, and his throat is dry, his voice scratchy. Carefully, he lifts his head, and every one of his tentacles feels overly sensitive, enough so to make him wince as they shift. There are pheromones in the air, attraction and low-level arousal, but he deliberately shifts back regardless, settling on the bare duracrete floor of some kind of drunk tank with a faint grimace.
The last clear thing Kit remembers is…dinner. He finished his mission and stopped at a food stall, and the owner recommended the soup. And then nothing.
Quite the soup, Kit thinks wryly. At least for a Nautolan.
“Unless you think me breaking your wrist is entertaining,” Fett says, but despite the violence implied in the words there's a flicker of something that’s almost concern as he eyes Kit. The Mandalorian armor is a surprise, but—Kit's heard of Jango Fett by reputation, and he’s absolutely certain that the man’s reputation doesn’t include anything like this.
“Justified, likely,” Kit says wryly, and settles on his knees, wincing a little as his tentacles brush each other. That’s a less than pleasant side effect, apparently. Hesitating, he looks Jango over, and then says, “You have my deepest apologies, if I intruded in any way—”
Jango looks sour, but there’s a curl of pheromones around him that are anything but—heady, sharp, dark with want, and they send a shiver through Kit's tentacles, ripple down his spine. He has to catch his breath carefully to keep from showing a reaction.
“You were drunk,” Jango says. “Drunk and handsy. I can handle one tipsy Nautolan.”
“Drugged,” Kit confesses, a little wryly, and when Jango's gaze snaps to him, narrows dangerously, he raises his hands. “Involuntarily, I assume. Whatever was in the soup I had, I believe it could be marketed as an aphrodisiac for my species.”
Some of the tension eases out of Jango's posture, and he huffs. “Perks of exploring Outer Rim worlds,” he says gruffly, and when he catches Kit's wince as he shifts, suspicion flickers over his face. “Hey. Did you—before they tossed you in here—”
Kit chuckles, shaking his head, and then regrets it as his tentacles ache sharply. “No, no, my friend, I'm fine. I've never suffered through a hangover before, but I believe this is the equivalent.”
“Your head tentacles?” Jango asks, frowning, and when Kit inclines his head, he huffs. “Then quit kriffing moving. Come here.”
Not about to turn down the invitation, since Jango apparently doesn’t object, Kit slides closer, lets himself be pulled down against Jango's chest again. A hand gathers his tentacles up, and he hisses, but holds still as Jango gently wraps a length of cloth that’s probably his cape around them, then settles them against Kit's back, and—it’s better. Like dulling a sense, and Kit breathes out in relief, resting his forehead against Jango's shoulder.
“Thank you,” he says. “That is—much better.”
Jango grunts, but his hand presses flat against Kit's back, stroking right over the spread of his silver markings. “Thank me with dinner,” he says, offhand, like Kit can't feel the heat and want that hum, low-level but unwavering, right beneath the surface.
Kit chuckles, enjoying the brush of Jango's fingers now that he can focus on it. “Looking to repeat this experience?” he asks, amused.
“It’s cute you think I need to drug you to drive you out of your mind,” Jango retorts, and his fingers dig in, just faintly, as an image rises. It makes Kit's breath catch, makes him shiver before he can help himself, and Jango smirks, all smug intent.
Kit lets him keep it, if only for the moment. He’ll be able to prove he can hold his own soon enough.
[On AO3]
No harm to any religion. It’s just a lamp ads by an Australian company. However, it’s funny!
Ya tenéis para entreteneros, a mi se me da bien, o sale por la ventana, según días.
Flowers Lamps
Avalaible Here
the purest form of serotonin is when a cat looks at u and u go like “what?” and it meows at u
My nan says she doesn’t and I’m in shock please I need more opinions
Ok, but in Hawks verse, Mail spikes his hair, so it looks like little horns all over his head. Horns that match placement of his zabrak horns. 😈
“You know this is the less flammable one, right?” Jesse asks, even as he scans the can of hair spray.
The boy in front of his register, just about his age but wearing about twice as many chains on his person as Jesse privately thinks is necessary, gives him a scathing look and slaps a bill down on the counter.
“It’s for hair,” he says, like Jesse is an idiot for even assuming there might be another reason he’s buying it. It’s his voice that catches Jesse's attention, though, soft and dark, and Jesse very determinedly doesn’t have a reaction as he bags the water bottle, sandwich, hairspray, and candy bar and takes the money.
“Well, yeah,” Jesse says, and checks the total. Frowns, and then checks it again. “But that’s not why most people buy it.”
Golden eyes narrow, and the boy looks from Jesse to the bag on the counter. “Is there a problem?” he asks pointedly.
“You're five bucks short,” Jesse says, and pretends very hard that he doesn’t see the boy’s expression twist with something between rage and shame, how he doesn’t even try to reach for the wallet that Jesse saw was otherwise empty. But—
He was going to get one of Charger’s sandwiches for lunch, and he already paid Rex for it, so if he just…skips, that’ll cover it.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jesse says, and very deliberately tucks the receipt into the pocket of his apron. “I've got it covered.”
Instantly, the boy bristles. “I don’t want your charity,” he says dangerously, leaning across the counter like he’s going to grab Jesse and deck him.
Jesse just scoffs, because this guy is tall and whipcord lean and muscular, but he’s got nothing on Kix when he’s coming out of an exam binge. “Great,” he says. “Good for you. Just take the damn bag and get out of my line, I'm on the clock.”
The boy glances behind himself automatically, taking in the tall, hooded figure who’s waiting back by the stand of trail mix. With a hiss of aggravation, he grabs the bag, turns on his heel, and stalks out of the general store.
“You're welcome!” Jesse calls after him, but the only response he gets is an aggressive jangle of the bells over the door as it slams shut.
Quietly, Rex's big boyfriend approaches the counter, setting his pile of granola bars down on it beside a bottle of water. “Are you all right?” he asks, and a flicker of pale eyes between Jesse and the door makes Jesse smile.
“I'm fine,” he tells Jon, and then, “Rex said he told you to at least get a sandwich if you're going hiking.”
“I'm fine—” Jon starts.
“There had better not only be granola bars on that counter!” Rex calls from the stockroom, and Jesse hides his grin as Jon winces.
“One sandwich?” he asks, smirking.
Jon pauses, flicking a glance at the still-swaying bells above the door and then at him. “Make it two,” he says softly. “Which is your favorite?”
Jesse swallows, and—having a vague crush on his brother’s boyfriend is the most predictable, ridiculous teenage thing in a lifetime that hasn’t been anything like ordinary, but Jesse doesn’t know that he would have skipped it. It’s nice. Just—as long as no one else ever finds out. Including Rex. Particularly Rex.
“Turkey,” he says, and Jon gives him a small smile and inclines his head.
“Two turkey, then,” he agrees, and Jesse rings him up, the boy and his voice and his golden eyes almost completely out of mind.
Jesse is halfway through a mind-numbing shift that makes his grandfather’s assigned essay on ancient Mandalorian clan migrations look fascinating in comparison—which is the only reason he’s halfway through it when Jaster doesn’t want it until next Monday—when the bell over the door chimes. He’s in the middle of wrestling with a sentence, but no one immediately calls for his help, so he keeps writing, listening for the footsteps that will undoubtedly retreat into the shelves.
But they don’t. instead, there's a long pause, and then they approach the counter.
“You,” a very familiar voice says, low, dark, and something prickles down Jesse's spine as he jerks his head up to see the boy from the other day standing on the other side of the counter. Golden eyes lock with his, then narrow, and the boy says almost accusingly, “You are the one from the other day.”
“It’s not like anyone else works weekday afternoons in here,” Jesse says, rolling his eyes. Looks him over, and then says, “Hey, I guess you really did use it for your hair.”
“Of course I did,” the boy says sharply, and puts a hand up to touch the spikes his hair has carefully been styled into. They're kind of cute. Jesse doesn’t really have a type, but—thig guy isn't not his type. Even if he is wearing a lot of black.
Jesse just shrugs. “My brothers in the fire department are grateful. You’d be surprised how many people come out here to start fires.”
The boy pauses, weighing this, and then says abruptly, “I am Maul.” And then, like it physically pains him to get the words out, “Thank you.”
Whatever effect that gratitude might have is promptly ruined by the face he pulls.
Jesse stares at him for a moment, then bursts out laughing. He leans back in his chair, snickering, and says, “Now we both just feel awkward. Did someone put you up to saying that?”
Maul scowls at him. “Of course not,” he retorts, and drops a ten on top of Jesse's laptop. “For your troubles.”
“If it was trouble I wouldn’t have done it,” Jesse says, and pushes the bill back. “My family owns the store. It’s fine.”
Maul glares like he’s about to protest, and he very pointedly doesn’t retrieve the money. Before he can say anything, though, Jesse raises his hands in surrender. “Look, I'm on my lunch break in like ten minutes, if you want to pay me back, just buy me lunch or something.”
For a long moment, Maul stares at him with narrowed eyes. “And take you somewhere romantic to eat it, I suppose,” he scoffs.
Jesse gives him a smirk. “If you want to go that far I'm going to need more than a sandwich,” he retorts, and Maul looks away with a disgusted huff.
He does buy Jesse a sandwich, though. And he even throws in a bag of chips when Jesse offers to buy their sodas, so apparently he’s not quite as angry as he looks.
The spiked hair is still cute, but Jesse gets a feeling saying that won't be welcome, so he keeps his mouth shut.
[On AO3]
Sorry I’m late I was obsessing over herb spirals
[image description: an ask by @arbrehoux that says “Hi! I’m just getting into spinning, and I wanted to ask how to finish off the yarn once you’ve spun all you want. I’ve tried googling it, but every website I look at skips straight from the actual spinning to soaking. I’m using a drop spindle, if that’s relevant.” end image description]
soaking usually IS the way to finish yarn ! i’ll give you the best step by step i can though (and for future reference, this applies to pretty much every single spinning method, so you can do this with yarns spun on a spinning wheel, a supported spindle, a drop spindle, a navajo spindle, a charkha wheel, or whatever else you might encounter. it’s all yarn, so it can all be finished the same way.)
step 0: if you plan on plying your yarn, do it before finishing. you don’t need to finish singles if you plan to ply them. finishing relaxes the yarn, so if you finish a singles and then ply it, it will end up being somewhat limp unless you overply it (which makes yarn less elastic and more rough) but if you spun a singles and want it to remain a singles, never to be plied, then you can certainly finish it as a singles.
step 1: remove the yarn from your spindle (or bobbin, or whatever it is on) and wrap it around something as it comes off. a niddy noddy is great for this, but not necessary. you can wrap your yarn around a big hardcover book or the back of a chair, or whatever. when taking yarn off a drop spindle, i usually just toss the spindle on the ground and let it roll around as I wind the yarn off. if you’re worried about it catching on something, put the drop spindle in a box or mixing bowl instead and let it roll around in there.
[image description: a somewhat blurry closeup of a tattooed man’s hands. in his right hand he’s holding a hardcover book. in his left he’s wrapping yarn around the book lengthwise. a red line has been drawn in to show the path of the yarn as he winds. end image description]
step 2: tie your yarn off. you can use the messy looking ends of the yarn if you wish, or another piece of yarn or string. just tie a simple knot around the hank. you want at least two knots, but if you’re really worried about it tangling, you can do more. the purpose of tying your yarn off is to stop it from tangling in the next steps, to make it easier to work with when you wind it into a ball or cake later, and to keep it looking tidy.
[image description: a closeup of the yarn on the book from the previous image. a knot has been tied around all the strands of yarn on that side. there is a red arrow pointing to the knot. end image description]
step 2.5: if you want to know your yardage or meterage, this is the time to do so. first, count how many strands you have. second, measure how many inches or centimeters it takes to span the entire length of the book (so, front, back, and the width of both the top and bottom). In this case I think it was 8 strands and 24 inches for the whole book. that means the whole yarn is 192 inches (8x24=192) and the yardage is 5.3 (192/36=5.3). same steps if it’s centimeters and meters, of course. also, if you’re thinking “wow, I have to measure whatever i’m winding my yarn on every time ? that sounds annoying”, then you’re seeing why niddy noddys are so helpful and you should get or make one. my niddy noddy takes 2 yards to span it, meaning whenever i wind yarn on, after counting it i can just multiply my result by 2 and know how many yards i have (if i have 100 strands and i know each strand spans 2 yards, that means my whole skein is 200 yards. so much simpler.)
step 3: soak your yarn. or just get it wet. i usually run my yarn under the tap for a few seconds to make sure it is fully wet, but you can also put it in a bowl with some water and make sure it’s fully submerged. leave it there for a few minutes.
step 3.5: if your yarn isn’t very soft and you want it to be softer, you can add conditioner (just like, the normal stuff you use for your hair) to the bowl before you put the yarn in to soak. if you’re softening it this way, leave it in the bowl of water for at least an hour, or even overnight. when you take it out, rinse it briefly. this step is only necessary if you want your yarn softer.
step 4 (optional): go outside and snap your yarn like a whip a few times. this evens out twist and flicks a lot of the water off, so it will dry faster too. if your yarn has some spots that are really undertwisted or overtwisted or both, this is a good way to help reduce that and make more evenly plied.
step 5: let your yarn dry completely. in the summer i hang my yarn over the clothesline, and in the winter i usually put it over a heating vent. doesn’t matter how you do it. remember that wool in particular can feel dry even when it has a fair amount of water in it, so don’t grab it the second it feels dry–give it a while longer to actually dry.
you should notice that your yarn looks different now that it’s dry. if it’s wool, it’s likely puffed up some (to varying degrees depending on the breed of animal it came from, as well as whether it was roving or a batt or a rolag or whatever else, and also depending on how you spun it. it’s a cool thing to pay attention to.)
step 6: skein your yarn. pick up the hank and drape it over your thumb or hand or whatever. the vast majority of yarns will twist a little in one direction when you do this, from residual twist. some yarns will twist a lot, others only barely. note the direction that it twists in–to the left or to the right. put your other thumb at the other end of the hank, and start twisting one thumb in the opposite direction that your hank twisted in. i usually twist with one thumb until i can’t easily twist it anymore, and then twist with the other thumb. your nice loop should now look kind of like a piece of rope, with your thumbs still hooked into each end.
[image description: the first image shows the yarn hooked over each thumb, with two twists in the middle. the second image shows that same yarn, which now has so much twist it looks like rope. his thumbs are still hooked into each end. end image description]
you now want to find the center point of your ‘rope’ and fold it there. your ‘rope’ should kind of snap into place, looking like a much larger version of a 2 ply yarn. it’s nice and stable like this, and can be transported or stored easily (plus it’s pretty !). the last step is to take one of the loops you had your thumb in and push it through the other loop. this stops it from unraveling.
btw: the reason we twist it the opposite direction that it wants to turn is the same reason we ply in the opposite direction that we spin. if you spin Z and ply Z your yarn isn’t going to be structurally sound, and it’ll look pretty bad, too. when it comes to skeining you’re not adding any structural stability to the actual yarn, but the looks still matter–if your Z plied yarn is twisted Z while skeining, your skein will be limp and lifeless and not very pretty. if it’s twisted S, it’ll be nice and balanced and neat looking. it’s purely an aesthetics thing, but it also only takes half a second to figure out, so why not do it ?
and you’re done ! your yarn is now finished and skeined, and you know the yardage/meterage. you can label it with all relevant info if you want (for example: 4 ounces shetland roving, 2 ply, 350 yards, light worsted weight, finished august 2022, spun on a wheel)
They’re having a very serious conversation about Cody’s behaviour (being mean to uncle Ben)