#Black Flamingo Publishing

[impala-dreamer]

When The Rivers Rise

A Supernatural Story 

~Alone and unprepared, Y/N goes to collect Dean from the bar and convince him to come home. Sam says he has a cure, and she'll be damned if she doesn't at least try to get Dean on board...~

Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel

6,331 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Angst, Smut, Demonic Charm, Fingering and Fucking, Mild Violence, Canon Everything, Choking During Sex, Choking not during sex, Lose of consciousness, Yada Yada

A/N: So basically, I took S10 E2 & 3 and smushed this in there. Please enjoy. I did. Published to Patron June 5, 2023

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The Flamingo Lounge was filthy. The parking lot was fenced in, littered with trash; its brick walls covered in graffiti as if the city’s youth used it as a canvas. Luckily, though, it seemed empty.

Y/N parked her car in the lot, not caring to lock the doors behind her. She double checked the syringes stashed in her jacket, made sure her gun clip was full. Really, there was no way to know what she was walking into, but she had to try, had to do something.

And she had to do it quick. If she knew where he was, so did Sam, and God only knew what Sam would be planning.

She walked in through the side door, letting her heavy boots thud and announce her presence. There was no reason to hide, anyway. Sneak attacks were never her speciality.

Soft piano notes filled the air, a half plucked melody that never quite turned into a song.

The room smelled of lingering cigarette smoke and stale beer, whiskey and maraschino cherries. The bar stools were vacant, the room empty save for the bartender and her target. She stopped by the counter; blue neon light shining down on her face. She grit her teeth and cleared her throat.

The music stopped and he looked up with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Dean. Her pulse quickened.

“Didn’t expect to see you.” His jaw twitched as he looked her over. “Thought it’d be Sammy who came callin’.” He cocked his head to the side, cracking his neck unnaturally.

Not Dean.

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d come see you first. Save him a trip.” Her voice felt so small. It crackled in her ears as fear welled up inside. She’d been tracking Dean for months and now, standing half a room away, she felt unprepared and severely out matched.

Dean chuckled under his breath and spun on the piano bench. His legs spread as he straddled the cushioned wood and he rubbed a hand down his thigh. Green eyes were piercing through her and Y/N shivered. She hadn’t felt his stare in forever, hadn’t known she’d feel it ever again.

He stood and she instinctively reached for her pistol.

“You know you can’t just shoot me, Y/N.”

He blinked. Blackness overtook the green and her heart sank. He could see it in her face, smell it pulsing off of her like thick perfume. She was terrified, disappointed, intrigued.

He laughed and made his way to the bar. “Oh. You weren’t sure, were you?”

She swallowed hard. “Sure about what?”

“About me.” He nodded at the bartender and Harv took a walk, dropping his drying rag on the bartop. “You knew what happened, that I’m… different now. Better. But you didn’t really believe it, did you?”

Shit.

Y/N dropped her hand to her side, dug her nails into her palm to steady herself. “Not really, no.”

Another little laugh left his lips as he leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He cast a glance back at her, his eyes green again, his gaze hungry.

“Well, believe it. I’m new and improved, babydoll.”

His tone washed over her. There was a new grit in his voice, a different confidence that was so unlike him but so very much Dean that it made her head hurt.

“You’re a demon.”

He shrugged and plucked two glasses from the drying rack, turning them over. “Yeah. Cool, ain’t it?”

Y/N bit her tongue hard, hoping the quick flash of pain would clear her head a bit. “Not cool, Dean,” she spat. “Evil.”

One elbow on the bar, he turned to face her and grinned. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know evil if you were stuck in Hell with it. Which…” He looked around at the empty room and laughed. “I guess you kinda are.”

The emptiness of the room suddenly weighed down on her and Y/N took in a deep breath to steady her shaking hands.

Dean filled both glasses and then slid one across the bar for her. “Drink up. You’ll need it.”

Nervously, she stepped up to the bar and took the glass between her fingers. “Why? You gonna kill me?”

He sucked his teeth and let his gaze fall down her body, remembering, enjoying. “Maybe.”

Her heart thudded in her ears. “You haven’t decided yet?”

Dean knocked back his drink. “Nope.”

“That’s bullshit.” She took a sip and it burned down her throat.

“What?”

“You decided the second I walked in here.”

Dean refilled his glass while keeping one eye on her. “Actually, I didn’t. I was too curious to worry about what I’m gonna do to you.”

Y/N held the tumbler to her lips, breathed in the oaky fumes. “Curious?”

“Well, you walked in here, alone…” He licked his lips. “Lookin’- mighty tasty if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

Fuck.

Her blood sizzled. “I do mind. Asshole.”

Dean smirked and took a long drink. “And I thought to myself, Y/N’s a smart girl. She’s gotta have some kinda plan. Wouldn’t just walk in here by herself with no backup, no weapons, no nothing. She’s not an idiot.”

He paused to watch her reaction and found her stronger than he thought. She held his gaze without faltering and he moved closer.

“So, tell me, Y/N, was I right? Are you smarter than you look?” He licked a drop of whiskey from the corner of his mouth. “What’s the big plan?”

She refused to look at him lest she lose her nerve. She finished the last sip of whiskey and then pulled her weapons from her jacket. On the bar, she laid down her gun and three syringes filled with a harsh sedative. The smooth, eternally cool handle of the angel blade pressed into her side, but she kept it hidden beneath her shirt.

“There. There’s my plan.” She turned to face him and swept her hand over the weapons.

“You were gonna- what? Force me to OD?” He grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth and the pink tip of his tongue.

Y/N shook her head. “It wouldn’t kill you. Just knock you out.”

“And then?”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a confessional shrug. “Honestly, Dean, I didn’t think I’d even get this far, so… there’s no and then. Bring you home, I guess.”

“What if I don’t wanna go home?” he asked, taking a step closer. “What if I don’t have a home anymore?”

She held her breath. “You do. You’ll always have a home, Dean. Whether you want it or not.”

He laughed. “Lemme guess. Home is wherever you and Sam are. Where we chose to hang our hats.” He shook his head and sighed. “Home is dead, Y/N.”

Her heart ached. “It doesn’t have to be. If you come back with me, maybe we can-”

“What?” He cut her off. “Maybe we can pretend everything’s good? Play house? Oh, you wanna try being boyfriend and girlfriend again, act like we have a future?”

His words were a knife, but she bit her tongue again, refusing to give him a reaction. “Don’t be cruel, Dean. I’m trying to help you.”

He sucked in a breath and turned away. “See, I don’t really care about being helped. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s gonna need help in a minute.”

She pressed her arm down against the blade, reassuring herself that it was there and ready.

“You’re not gonna kill me, Dean.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

“Whatever happened to you,” she said, hope burning on her lips. “Whatever this is… It can be undone. You’re still you. You’re still Dean Winchester. You’re still-”

“Still what?” He spun on his heel and towered over her. “The man you love?”

Pain twitched around her eyes. “Yes.”

“You know what you are? You’re a sad little girl playing with shit she don’t understand.”

She stood up tall, finding strength in the marrow of her bones. “Sam has the cure. He can-”

Dean laughed and backed up, cocky and amused. “Sam’s probably dead right about now. I don’t know how much good his cure will do.”

Y/N froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Dean clicked his tongue and smiled. “Some assclown called me from his phone. Got baby Sammy all tied up in a shed somewhere doing… something. I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening. But, that was a while ago. I assume he’s…” He slit his throat with a single finger and stuck his tongue out, mocking Sam’s apparent death.

Y/N shuddered, unable to hide the truth from him.

“So you didn’t know.” He spun back to the bad. “Sorry. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

She cleared her throat, pushed the worry aside. “That’s exactly what I came to do.”

She took a chance, lunging for the gun on the bar, but Dean got to it first, expertly disarming it and tossing it aside.

“You’re too slow, Y/N. Always have been.”

He poured them another drink while she regrouped.

“Tell me, how is it you don’t know where Sam is? You two’ve been attached at the hip forever.”

A bit of whiskey sloshed out of her glass and flooded the bar. She went to it, lifting her cup from the mess. “Yeah, not so much anymore.”

Dean leaned in, condescendingly. “Wanna talk about it?”

Y/N took a drink. “No.”

A month ago, Sam was losing his mind to grief and obsession, pushing Y/N aside at every turn as he tried to find his brother. The last straw was a torture session in a barn in Kentucky. Sam was slicing up a demon, carving into its stolen flesh, and when Y/N protested, he hit her, knocking her back against the rotting walls. They tumbled, fighting, screaming at each other while the demon watched, cackling from the center of the Devil’s Trap. When the dust cleared and Y/N came up bloody and bruised, she spat in Sam’s direction and told him to go to Hell. That was the last she’d seen or heard from him. He was on the same mission, but going about it in all the wrong ways.

She stared at the neon sign behind the bar. “We’re not exactly speaking anymore.”

Dean hummed and refilled his glass. “Funny. You and me in the same boat.”

Y/N huffed. “I chose this boat, Dean. You didn’t.”

He grinned. “You don’t think so? You don’t know all the fun I’ve had this summer, all the trouble I’ve gotten into. All the tail I’ve chased… and gotten.” She flinched, but he kept going. “All the drugs, the fights, the booze. It’s been a great time. You should join me.”

She laughed bitterly and downed her drink. “Pass.”

He frowned, mockingly. “I’m sorry. Does hearing all that hurt your feelings? All those chicks I’ve banged, dudes I’ve nailed… makes ya jealous don’t it?”

Y/N sighed and turned to look at him. “No. Just sad for you. And them.”

He took a step and she balked, moving away from the bar, her defenses on edge.

“Come on, now. I’m the best you’ve ever had. And I’ve only gotten better.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Dean grinned. “Baby, you have no idea.”

He moved closer, stalking towards her, forcing her to back up. His eyes were fixed on her face, intent obvious. His mouth parted gently as his tongue came forth to tease her, wet his plump lips. A strange mix of panic and arousal swelled in her gut and she reached into her jacket, pulling the angel blade free.

“Stop!” She twirled the blade in her hand and held it out in warning.

Dean laughed. “Really?”

“This kills anything, right? Human, angel… demon. If you’re two outta three, I got a fighting chance.”

Her voice was shaking as hard as her hand and Dean kept coming, boots thumping the stained carpet.

“Stay back!” she yelled, spreading her feet and bending her knees, taking a fighting stance.

Dean swept forward in a flash and grabbed her wrist. He twisted hard and she held back a scream as the bones threatened to snap.

The blade fell to the floor.

“Get off me,” she snarled.

Dean’s right hand curled against her lower back and he leaned in close, breathing in her scent. “You don’t mean that.”

Frozen, caught and confused, she gasped as he bent to kiss her. Squirmed as his tongue poked between her lips, thrashed as his fingers tensed on her ass. Swooned as the kiss lingered.

Fuck.

It was warm and wet and so Dean. She hummed despite herself and freaked out when he pulled away. She slapped his chest, shoved him hard.

Again, he pulled her close and his lips found hers. He licked at her mouth and exhaled into her, flooding her brain with desire, washing her body in lust filled memory.

“Stop it!”

Once more, she shoved him back with all her might, but it only made him angry. He stumbled back a pace and dipped his chin, daring her, enticing her, tugging on every string.

Oh god…

“Just- stay back!”

Dean’s upper lip twitched and he bared his teeth, advancing on her like a wolf in the wilderness. He wrapped himself around her, pushing her back until she hit the piano. Nowhere to go, she melted in his arms, let him probe her hot mouth, let him slip his knee hard between her thighs.

She gasped, hating herself for loving him. Hating her love for getting in the way.

“Stop.”

He pulled back an inch, burning into her with familiar green eyes. “If you really want me to stop, I will. Just say it.”

His breath struck her face, that dreamlike mix of whiskey and smoke and long faded mint. Her eyes fluttered and her pussy clenched. “No.”

He grinned, let his fingers trail down her cheek to wrap loosely around her throat. “No you want me to stop or no, you don’t won’t say it?”

Unable to think, to speak, to reason herself out of the moment, Y/N grabbed at his flannel with both hands and tugged him down. She licked at his lips, sucked on his tongue until he growled against her, thrust his hips into her.

“Knew you were good to go,” he moaned, fumbling with the zipper of her jeans.

Y/N clawed a hand through his hair and tugged, yanking his head to the side and licking at the sacred vein. She pressed her lips there and felt his heart beating steady. He still had a heart.

“Miss you so much,” she whispered, half gasping as he tore at her bottoms, tearing the denim from her hips.

“Oh, I know you did.”

He grabbed at her sides, slid his hands up beneath her arms and lifted. Her bare ass squeaked on the piano lid and Dean closed in on her, pushing her onto her back with a heavy kiss. She spread her knees around him, tugged him closed with her heels on his ass. He snuck a hand between them and grinned against her lips.

“You did miss me, huh?”

She nodded, breathless as he shoved a finger into her.

“So tight.” He added another and she gasped. “Thought you’d be runnin’ around like a cat in heat without me, but looks like you’ve been a good girl. Kept yourself all tight and virginal for me.”

Her nails scraped at his scalp. “I don’t know about virginal…”

A third finger jammed into her and Y/N bit her lip as the stretch burned.

“You been fucking other guys behind my back?”

His ring finger barely made it inside and her pussy clenched down hard on him.

“Nah.” He grinned and nipped at her lips. “You ain’t been doing nothing but dreaming about me, have you?”

She wanted to scream, to push him off, to run, but there was no escape. Not when he had his lips on her throat and his body pressed so hard against her.

“Yes…”

He pulled his hand away and pressed two fingers to her clit, watching in delight as he eyes lit up and a silent scream filled her mouth.

“You could come with me, you know.”

She snapped her jaw shut tight. “No.”

Drawing his left hand firmly down her body, he stopped at her hip and tugged her shirt up, exposing the blank protective ink over the bone. His thumb ran over the tattoo. “Sure you could,” he explained. “I’ll just cut this off… drag some bitch outta Hell… stuff her into you.”

Her body jerked as he forced his hand back into her cunt and Y/N grit her teeth. “Wouldn’t be me then, would it?”

He paused and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess not.” He tugged the shirt up higher and smiled as the thin cotton of her bra did little to hide her pert nipple. “I like you like this anyway. All scared and confused.” He dropped down and sealed his lips around the bud, tugging hard.

Y/N squirmed and let out a cry that rang like music in his ears.

“Fuck, I missed that sound.” He sucked again and bit down. “The whores I’ve been picking up lately, they just- it ain’t the same.” He straightened up and looked down at her. “Sex is just sex until you learn someone’s body. You can’t really fuck someone the right way until you learn how. You gotta pay attention… learn what makes them… squirm. What makes them scream...” He crooked his fingers and Y/N squealed, her thighs slamming shut around his arm. “See? Just like that.”

“Fuck, please!”

Her lips were burning from his kisses, stubbled lips leaving the ghost of his touch behind. Her body was aching, throbbing from his fingers, dripping down onto the piano.

“Dean-”

He bit his bottom lip and let it fall slowly away. “Love hearing my name like that. Never gets old.”

He pulled away before she could cum, leaving her struggling and needy. She reached for him, but he slapped her hands away and unbuckled his jeans.

“Lay still,” he grit.

Y/N sealed her lips shut and clutched the hem of her shirt. She eyed the exit, thought about jumping down and taking her chances outrunning him, but before she could take a deep enough breath, Dean jutted his hips against her and his cock slipped between her swollen lips.

Her shoulders jolted upright and Dean grabbed the back of her neck, tugging her down toward the edge of the piano. Her ass was hanging, teetering off the side, and she grabbed at his shirt, holding on as he fucked deep into her.

“That’s it,” he grunted, one hand on her hip, the other on her throat. “Fuck, I remember this cunt. So fucking wet for me. So tight.”

She gasped, eyes wide, heart racing. His thumb covered her pulse and he pushed down just enough to blur the edges of her vision.

“D-Dean!”

His hips snapped upwards, his breath quickened. He squeezed her throat tighter and watched as the color drained from her lips.

“That’s it, babydoll,” he urged. “Gonna get you nice and dizzy so you cum hard. I know you like that…”

She could feel it building, that tightness inside as he hit every spot she’d been unable to reach herself.

Green eyes blurred in her vision and then with a grin, he snapped them to black.

Y/N came instantly, her cunt pushing and pulling on his thick cock; a flood of warmth slicking down his thighs.

“Yes…” He thrust harder. “Yes… Just like that!” His roar was intense and Y/N’s eyes began to roll, her heart struggling to beat. “Yes!”

The room was fading to white; her head was spinning. Still throbbing, her cunt was the only thing responding as Dean finished with a grunting cry. Just before her eyes rolled back, he released his grip and oxygen flooded her brain.

Y/N gasped and caught herself, falling back onto her elbows on the polished wood. “Fuck!”

Dean flashed a cocky grin and tucked himself away, uncaring of the mess. “You still got it, Y/N/N.”

His wink was uncalled for and aggravating, but Y/N had no energy to clap back at him. Carefully, she rolled onto her belly and slid off the piano. Her muscles were aching, her flesh on fire.

Dean headed back to the bar and poured another round. He walked a little slower, his voice rolled a little smoother off his devilish tongue.

“Can’t say I’m mad you stopped by,” he joked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Turned out pretty good after all.”

Y/N yanked her jeans up and grimaced as the seam scraped at her raw pussy. “Just think how much better it would be at home, in the Bunker, where you belong.”

He laughed. “Really? After all that, you’re gonna try again?”

She stumbled forward, grabbing the bar for support. “I gotta keep trying, Dean. You need help.”

Sighing, he knocked back his glass. “See, that’s where you’re still wrong.”

Behind him, the door creaked open and Y/N’s eyes went towards the light.

Dean didn’t have to turn around, he knew.

“Hiya, Sam.”

Shit.

Sam let the door shut behind him and he walked in, arm held in a sling, face cut up and bruised.

He locked eyes with Y/N and her stomach tensed. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, and seeing him now, it all rushed back to her.

“Sam.”

He nodded at her and moved to stand equidistant from her and Dean. The triangle was a familiar one, but strange altogether.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes flickering between them.

Y/N swallowed down her anger and swept the sweaty hair from her eyes. “Same as you, I guess.”

Dean laughed. “I highly doubt he’s here for that, Sweetheart.” He brought his right hand to his lips and licked her taste from his fingers. “Unless…”

She shuddered and Sam’s brow creased.

“We’re gonna take you home, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring the obvious sexual confession. He turned his back on Y/N and focused on his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes. ”Yeah, I don’t think so. I told you to let me go.”

Sam’s shoulders tensed. “You know I can’t do that.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Well…” Reaching behind him, he pulled the First Blade from his belt and showed it to them both. “Sucks to be you, don’t it?”

For a moment, Y/N felt calm. Almost as if her soul had decided to give up all hope and accept the fact that Death was on His way. She exhaled slowly and imagined what it would feel like, that sharp jaw bone splitting her in half, gouging through her chest with one quick sweep of Dean’s hand. Would he be quick or let her linger? Would he weep for her in the end? Would he care?

Sam held up a hand, begging for patience. “Dean, you don’t have to do this. We can cure demons-”

Glass shattered behind Y/N and she turned to see the window break. A smoking canister landed by her feet and she looked at Dean, confused and flooded with panic. As her brain and feet got themselves together, the smoke rose around her and she covered her mouth and nose, too late. She started to choke her and beside her, Sam coughed loudly, waving at the smoke to push it away. He inhaled too deeply and stumbled forward, grabbing her shoulder for support. She buckled under his weight and fell to her knees in the cloud. It strangled her from every side, burning her lungs, stinging her eyes. She crawled towards the door and felt Sam’s big hand on her back, pulling her to her feet.

“Come on!”

He hit the door, pushing it open and knocking fresh air into the room, but it was already inside of  them.

Y/N staggered out behind him, barely able to stay on her feet.

Confused and bleary-eyed she saw Sam fall, knocked out by a stranger’s fist.

She rushed out of the bar, leaving the smoke behind and slamming into the arms of Sam’s kidnapper.

“Who the hell are you?”

Blue eyes and a crew cut stared back at her and Y/N coughed, expelling poison from her lungs.

“Me?” she swayed on her feet and swatted at him. “Who the fuck are you!”

Cole grit his teeth and pulled a gun from his thigh holster, easily spinning to take Y/N in his arms and aim the muzzle at her temple.

From the back of the parking lot, Dean appeared, cool and seemingly unaffected by the attack. He held out his arms, cocked a brow as he looked at Cole, wondering who the fuck was bothering him now.

Y/N held still but seethed, nostrils flaring, anger sloshing about in her dizzy head.

Cole’s forearm pressed hard against her throat and he pointed the gun at Dean.

“Wow. It’s really you.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “We met?”

“Talked on the phone.”

“Right.” Dean laughed under his breath. “You’re the guy who’s supposed to put a bullet in Sammy’s brain.” He dipped his chin and smirked, cocky and unimpressed. “Did you miss?”

Dean took a step and Cole tightened up. Y/N clawed at his arm but didn’t have the strength to fight him off.

“Dean-” Her voice was shattered and weak.

Cole pressed the gun against her head again. “You stay there or I’ll-”

“What?” Dean leaned in casually. “You’ll put a bullet in her too? You don’t exactly have a great track record for that.”

Cole growled. She could feel it rumble through his chest and into her. “I’ll do it.”

Y/N blinked up at Dean, begging, but for what, she wasn’t sure. The calm of Death approaching had settled over her once more.

Dean shrugged, his eyes locked on Y/N’s. “Do it,” he said. “I don’t care.”

She drew in a breath and everything changed. Cole’s grip on her loosened and she ducked from his arm, ready to rush forward and out of the line of fire. He grabbed her arm and brought the butt of the gun down hard on the back of her head. She saw sparks, heard a yell, felt the rough gravel of pavement scrape her face.

When she woke, she was back in her bed in the Bunker, blanket smooth beneath her, boots still on. She’d been carried inside but not tucked in.

Sam.

Her head was pounding, mouth somehow dry and wet at the same time. She swallowed down the guck and rubbed her eyes as she climbed out of bed.

The halls were quiet, the lights bright as always. She peeked into Sam’s room, but it was empty, dared a chance at Dean’s, but he was nowhere to be found either.

What the hell?

A pained, demonic roar echoed down the hallway and Y/N pushed off of her backfoot, breaking into a run.

The dungeon door was open, the decoy shelving pushed aside.

She looked in to see Dean tied to a chair, his face covered in thick sweat, right arm bloody from needle punctures. Sam stood to the side, watching his brother writhe in pain.

“Sam?”

She stepped into the room and both men looked up.

Dean grinned through his strangled panting. “Heya, Sweetheart.”

She rushed forward and Sam stopped her, stepping in her way. He towered over her and looked down, hazel eyes filled with hurt and purpose. “Don’t.”

Dean sucked in a hard breath, lungs burning, blood boiling.

Y/N tried to circle Sam, but he barred her with his good arm.

“What are you doing to him? You’re killing him- look!”

Sam shook his head and gave her shoulder a shove. “Out. Now.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.

Dean watched her leave, struggling with consciousness. “Good to see ya, Y/N/N!”

Outside, she ripped her arm from Sam’s giant paw and growled up at him. “What are you doing in there?”

He sucked a breath through his teeth. “Curing my brother.”

“Looks more like you’re killing him! Can’t you hear him screaming? That can’t be good.” She turned to the door and again, Sam blocked her.

He softened, lowering his voice and easing his stance. “Look, I know you’re worried but-”

“But what? You’ve got it all under control as usual?”

He dropped his head. “He has to go through this. He’ll survive.”

She looked up, tears wetting the corners of her eyes. “How do you know? How do you know this won’t actually rip his soul apart and kill him?”

He let his head fall back against the door, resting for a split second. “I don’t.”

Hours ticked by with Y/N pacing the halls, listening as Dean’s wretched voice echoed through her, tearing at her heart.

Sam wouldn’t let her inside, but she caught glimpses of Dean when Sam came out for air. He was dripping in sweat, slumped down in the chair.

“Are you sure about this?”

He brushed past, barely holding on himself. “Honestly, Y/N… I don’t know anymore. But we’re almost done. He’ll either come out of this cured or-”

She held her tongue. “Yeah.”

Sam turned left and headed towards his room.

“Sam?”

He paused before rounding the corner.

“Should you and I- I mean, we should probably-”

He held up his hand, but was kind when he turned. “I know. We need to talk. I need to apologize. I just need- I gotta finish this first. I need to save him.”

Y/N nodded. “I know, Sam. I know.”

Sam had been gone for a while, so she took a chance.

Y/N slipped into the dungeon with a bottle of water and a damp cloth, her heart in her throat, her head in a vice.

Dean was limp in the chair, his chin tucked to his chest, eyes gently closed. She toed the Devil’s Trap, watching, praying to see a breath.

“Dean?”

He stirred and she sighed. “Thank God.”

A chuckle lifted his face to hers. “God ain’t got shit to do with this, babydoll.” He smiled and then coughed, heavy, painfully. His chest heaved, his mouth fell open as he strained for air.

“Dean… fuck.”

Before she knew it, she was inside the sigil and kneeling at his feet. She pressed the cool washcloth to his forehead and he sighed gratefully as she wiped the sweat from his brow.

“That’s… that’s nice.” His voice was cracked, throat raw from screaming.

She patted his cheeks, his throat, lay the cloth across the back of his neck.

“Are you OK?”

She looked him over, certain he was near to fading. His arm was torn from the needles and she could swear The Mark looked paler, as if Sam’s cure was pulling the evil from it. Maybe it was working…

Dean smiled. “Oh, sure. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” A cough shook him badly and Y/N held his cheek, unable to help.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

She cracked open the bottle of water and held it to his lips, urging him to drink.

He managed a tiny sip and then pulled back.

“I’m dying, Y/N/N.” His head lolled to the side and her heart ached.

“No.” She grabbed at his flannel and shook him gently. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re Dean Fucking Winchester. You are going to be fine. You hear me?”

Green eyes rolled back to white and Y/N set her hand on his chest, rubbing hard.

“Hey! Hey! Dean! No. Wake up!”

She slapped his cheek and he sucked in a heavy breath, gasping loudly as his eyes snapped open.

“Oh, Jesus, Dean!”

Before relief could set in, Dean’s fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and his pained smile turned into a devilish grin. He squeezed and her pulse quickened.

“What’re you doing? How?”

She looked down to see the ropes that had held his arms frayed and broken. “Dean?”

A blink shattered his beautiful green eyes and only black remained. He laughed. “You showed up just in time…”

It was like a rush of wind inside her head and all around.

In a flash, Dean had her up off the floor, her feet dangling, throat clutched in his big hand. He slammed her against the wall and held her there, lungs screaming, eyes bulging. He traced a hand down her body and tilted his head to the side, watching the blood rise to the surface of her skin. Aroused even as her breath died away.

“See, I don’t get you.” He let her slide down the wall until her toes scraped the floor. “Sammy warns you not to come looking for me by yourself and you do. He tells you not to come in here, and not only do you ignore him again, but you bring me a bottle of water. You came in here to take care of me. And for what?” His fingers squeezed and she felt her heart strain to pump. “You think you can ease my pain? Make it all better?” He brushed a hand over her breast and grinned. “Or maybe you think I’ll fuck you again.”

He tossed his head back and laughed.

“You’re a stupid little girl.” He blinked away the black and dipped his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly. “But I do enjoy watching you suffocate… I never told you that before, but it’s beautiful. Your eyes get real wide and the color starts to drain from your mouth. This sweet, delicious mouth.”

He forced his tongue inside and Y/N’s eyes rolled back. She clawed at his arm, but the strength was gone, the will fading close behind. Her vision ebbed and her fingers slid from his arm, falling limp at her sides.

“Do me a favor, babydoll,” he whispered, licking at her lips one final time. “Wait for me right here.”

With a flick of his wrist, she was on the floor, falling like a ragdoll at his feet. Air filled her lungs but she was already too far gone to wake fully. She tried to move, but everything was a struggle, everything ached.

“I’ve gotta go take care of my baby brother.” He ran a hand through his hair and she watched in horror as he stepped out of the Devil’s Trap. “Then I’ll be back for you."

Kind blue eyes were there when she woke and soft hands were helping her to sit up.

Castiel smiled sadly and lay his palm across her forehead like a mother would.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N blinked rapidly, clearing the haze from her eyes. She squinted up at the angel and then panicked.

“Dean!” She scrambled to her feet, leaping from her bed and grabbing his arm for balance. “Where’s Dean!”

Castiel took both of her hands in his and forced her to calm down. “He’s fine. He’s…” A smile turned his pink lips. “It worked, Y/N. Dean’s back with us.”

It felt like the walls were crumbling inside of her. Everything slid downwards and she went with it, falling against Castiel, her body exhausted, her mind a mess of relief and worry.

He sank to the floor with her and held her close.

“He’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “You are too.”

The summer rushed through her head, ups and downs, horrors and worse. She saw black eyes and blood, felt every bruise, every strike against her flesh.

She wiped her eyes and sat back. “How?”

Castiel looked down, eyes sad but clear. “Time.”

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, fresh from a shower. His hair still damp, gray flannel a little dark around the collar from collecting the drippings. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees, head in his hand.

She knocked gently and he looked up.

“Hey, Dean.”

He turned as he stood and started to go to her, but something stopped him. Flashes of what he’d done played on the empty space between them and he lingered over the bruises on her throat, the cut on her forehead. His fingers were twitching and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the unwanted movements.

“Hey.”

She wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, but he looked nervous to have her there, scared almost.

She cleared her throat and wrung her hands. “You feeling OK?”

Eyes on the floor, he nodded. “Yeah. All good.” He looked up through his lashes, afraid to face her fully. “You?”

She sniffed back a wave of tears and swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m- I’m good.”

The lies hung like an iron curtain between them, massive and unbreachable.

She turned to go. “Well, if you need anything, just holler.”

He was on her before she reached the door, shaking fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her back. She spun and crashed into his chest, burying her face in his shirt, clinging to him. He was warm and alive. He was safe. He was home.

She could feel him trembling, hear the shaky intake of air. He held her tight, his big hand on the back of her head, the other slung around her middle. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

“Y/N, I can’t- I- I’m so sorry-”

His heart was racing against her ear and she snuck her arms around him, locking him to her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “We don’t have to do that yet. Just… just be here.”

A tear escaped his eye and fell, landing on her arm.

“OK.” His hug grew a little tighter. “I’m here.”

She sighed and let the tears go. “That’s all I ever needed…”

2024 Tags 

@feelmyroarrrr @caplanbuckybarnes @mariekoukie6661 @alwaystiredandconfused @zepskies

@k-slla @foxyjwls007 @shadyloveobject @cosicas-cuquis @luvr4miya

@deanwinchesterswitch @cevansdove-baby @somebrokeartstudent @peytongoose @illicithallways

Add Yourself To The List

[writingquestionsanswered]

Would publishing companies be less interested in publishing a YA book if the protagonist teenager is asexual? Is the chance of selling the book higher if I add a teen romance? Thank you!

Viability of YA with Asexual Protagonist

There are many YA publishers who are looking for diverse protagonists, including characters who are asexual. And romance is certainly not a requirement for success in YA. Some popular YA titles that do not include romance are The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee, Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson, This is Not a Personal Statement by Tracy Badua, Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein, The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta, Dear Martin by Nic Stone, Tell the Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt, and Saving Montgomery Sole by Mariko Tamaki.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Learn more about WQA

See my ask policies

Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

[olderthannetfic]

That's literally every MV slash zine from back in the day because they were all published by the same couple who saw themselves in that ship and hated Tubbs in a frankly really overtly racist way (not because he wasn't shipped but because of how they perceived his self confidence as a black man and wrote about it in fic).

Flamingo, who preferred Crockett/Tubbs but wanted to get published, wrote most of the really good C/C fic in their zines. (Sadly, I actually think it's a lot better than her one C/T zine.)

And no, I don't want to hear from any of you idiots who haven't rewatched canon in decades about how Tubbs was [insert nonsense here]. He was portrayed as having a spine and self confidence and only being about half the enabler that most buddy cops are portrayed as. That's it. From that, fandom took "Waaah, he doesn't really love Crockett!" and "He brags! Boo hoo!"

Infuriating.

[philcoulson-redtapeninja]

🎶 when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your followers (positivity is cool) 🎶

Hero by Pegboard Nerds ft Elizaveta

Black Swan by Twrp ft Dan Avidan

Flamingos by KeroKero Bonito

Skeet Surfin' from Top Secret!

Ask Me Anything by S J Tucker

[kirihotto]

Party Killer PT.2 {Kai X Reader 18+}

→ Warnings: Alcohol, Drinking and Partying.

→ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It can contain explicit content.

→ Genre: Strangers to lovers

→ Summary: Going to a party with a friend after a rough week. Getting a little drunk you talk to the guy you've been eyeing since you got there. How will He react?

→ Word Count: 2 349 (part 2)

Disclaimer: All members are face and name claims for the story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. All works are purely for entertainment purposes.

Published: 04/12/23

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 An hour or so later I felt myself sobering up. As My mind finally started to catch up with everything that happened. The cutest guy at the party, at least according to me. I talked to him first. He Kissed ME on the cheek. I kissed him back! On the lips! And he was STILL hanging out with me??

"Hey, F/N. I'm gonna head out. You coming with?" Byun asked me, standing outside of the pool. She looked down on me and the guys almost with a frown. She zipped up her heels and fixed her frizzy long black hair. It was easily assumed she was upset about Yeonjun ignoring her. Possibly jealous of me. Looking back up at her with a huge stupid drunk grin. She knew what I meant. She sighed. "Alright. I'm not picking you up later though. It's already like eleven. Stay here at Chul's, we booked a room."

"Okkkk." I replied, sticking a thumbs up at her. Though I couldn't believe it was eleven already. Byun left and a few other bodies started leaving as well. Almost no one was in the pool. Soobin had gotten out and had his feet in the water, along with Taehyun. Yeonjun, Soobin, Taehyun and another girl under his arm. Were chatting amongst themselves about serious topics. Beomgyu, Kai and I were just talking random shit.

"Dolphins are literally so mean." Beomgyu retorted to Kai's statement. Flipping his long soggy hair about in sas.

"But they're so cute!" Kai cried back in response. Even though we had been chatting for another hour Kai still had his arm around me. Though we were only half in the water and my top half had pretty much dried out. The cold breeze sent a shiver down my spine. Kai must have noticed and stopped the ridiculous conversation to face me. His adorable eyes searched me, as he hunched down to face me directly. "You wanna get out? I can go with you."

"Y-yeah it's getting cold." I agreed. Kai's arm finally let go of me as he nodded. As much as I didnt want him to leave. I was getting sober and wouldn't be able to do much of anything other than drool.

"I'm gonna take her inside! If you guys want to leave early I'll get a cab!" Kai yelled to the other guys from the pool chairs. Grabbing his white shirt, towel, phone and his black slides. Shivering out of the pool I snatched my phone, a dry towel, my shoes and Kai. We booked it inside after saying bye. Drying ourselves off on the mat inside the empty kitchen. The glow of the yellow lights comforting and somehow warm. Looking over at Kai shaking the towel over his thick dark hair. Ringing my hair out as well, we could hear the buzz of the lights due to the silence between us. Until. growl.

"Sorry. Guess I didn't eat enough earlier. Do you want something?" He asked awkwardly, sliding his towel down his neck to rest on his shoulders. Sending a kind smile my way. I was already starting to lose my words. In an attempt to break the silence I searched the marble counters which had been full previously. Now only the Neon pink. Flamingo cupcakes.

"Well.. we can have these?" I replied, snatching them off the counter. Looked like nobody else seemed to think these were edible.

"They're so cute! Works for me." He smiled when meeting me in the kitchen. The small shivers kept me going. I led Kai into the room I had booked out. Closing the door behind us quickly since he wasn't supposed to be here. The room was rather plain. One small lamp on a night stand. The walls were a light yellow beige and the floor a light wood. A sheer white curtain covered the single window looking out to the street. A small wood closet at the end of the bed and luckily, a private bathroom beside the night stand. Kai tossed his towel on the bed and took a seat. Smiling sweetly at me. "You go shower first. you're shivering like crazy! Go go get warmed up."

"Ok thank you!" I replied making my two steps to enter the bathroom. That's when it hit me. I dont have clothes.. I didn't change before I jumped in the pool and my bag with extras was in Byun's car. I couldn't say no to his sweet eyes. Of course I had to be wearing one piece... I turned to face the beaming ball of sunshine sitting on the bed. Tapping away on his phone. He noticed my sudden stop and looked up at me. "Uhm.. you don't have.. Any extra dry clothes do.. you..?" oh crap my face must be beaming red right nooowww.

"Oh yeah! I have that white shirt." He leaned over to the pile he had gathered on the bed. Pulling out the shirt he had ripped off in front of me- not helping. He tossed it to me from his place on the bed. "But sorry I don't have any... bottoms.. That would fit."

"No no it's ok thank you for even thinking of me.." We both sat silent. Cheeks tinted pink. Though Kai had been looking away. I needed to see the cute blush that graced his cheeks. After our way to awkward stares I rushed into the small bathroom. Dowsing myself with hot water. Making the blush invisible and the shivering stop.

Quickly finishing my shower to be sure Kai would get hot water. Getting out was the dreadful part. My wet piece of clothing hanging over the side of the tub. Kai's white shirt sat neatly on the dry marble counter. With a heavy sigh I slid the baggy T over me. His unfamiliar scent suddenly hit me. I mean he was just wearing it so of course it would smell like him. It was unfamiliar yet calming. Looking at myself in the mirror at the huge thing. Luckily it hung above my knees. I jumped from the sudden tapping on the door.

"Are you ok in there? Does it fit decently enough?.." Kai questioned behind the door. Gathering my pride once again as my actions became free from influence. Swinging the birch door wide open, nearly hitting him in the face.

"Y-yep! Thank you for this." Though I acted confident I felt my knees nearly buckle below me. Thoughts ran wild in the back of my mind. Me and a guy alone in a room. All I was wearing was his shirt. Oh my gosh.. Flopping myself on the bed as I let my knees rest. Kai shot me a quick kind smile before he walked into the still steaming bathroom. Shooting back a blush filled attempt at being grateful. But my mind needed a serious shower. In holy water.

Getting my mind off things I snatched one of the cupcakes set on the bed. Just sitting there stuffing my face recollecting what had happened. Soon the sound of water filled the silence in the small room. Then humming. A sweet tune. Something I didn't know the name of. But I'd sure like to. I swear he could do nothing wrong. Enjoying his beautiful voice I scrolled through chats from the night and posts from friends. Reading Byun's motherly texts: "I'm home now." "Are you ok? Have a place to stay?" "hello? Need a drive?" Though she said she wasn't going to pick me up and she was going right to bed. The last message was sent only five minutes ago. I sent her a selfie of the bed and my torso. Capturing the image that I had somewhere to sleep and was comfortable. Seconds later Byun's name filled the small screen.

Byun: OMG WHO'S SHIRT IS THATTT WHAT YOU BE DOINNN?!

Then I remembered I wasn't wearing the same outfit or any pants..

Me: It's uhmm Kai's..

Me: But wait, listen!

Byun: OHHHHH YOU MADE MORE THAN ONE MOVE ON EM???

Byun: DEETS. NOW.

Before I could text anything else to explain she video called me. I knew she'd cause a scene if I didn't answer. So I picked up the phone and sushed her instantly.

"Ok listen. He's in the other room. Be quiet."

"Fine ok. So deets. What happened after I left?" She played with her hair sitting in her room in the near pitch black.

"Kai and I came in to get cleaned and warmed up from the pool. I.. Didn't.. Have my bag with my extra clothes.. So I had to wear his. He's showering right now." I relayed the situation to her while she seemed less and less interested.

"Soooo.. No sex? And he's still with you?" She pouted.

"WHAT NO! ARE YOU NUTS? I JUST MET HIM." I whisper yelled, pulling the phone closer to my face. She shrugged. Kai's humming stopped. "He's coming back. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Grab me tomorrow at eight."

I hung up the phone and tossed it beside me awkwardly. Fixing my shirt to make sure I was covered. Kai came out of the washroom, hair still damp, a towel around his neck. He was also.. Shirtless.. Completely.. He must have noticed my stare straight to his chest.

"Sorry about that. I brought extra pants but your wearing my other shirt. Soooo.. Yeah.." Kai fumbled upon his words while really none of them were sticking with me. My awful mind scanned his half bare form. He stood in front of the steamy room, his hand fiddling with the nape of his neck. He was so freaking cute. He was getting nervous from my staring.

"No no you're fine! Uhmm... thanks. Again." I finally stopped staring and replied. Kai made his way toward the bed to sit next to me.

"Hey lights out it's late!" Chul's voice shot through the silence. His arm snuck in and flicked the light switch off. Closing the door after that. Only the small light from the lamp filled the room. Kai tripped over my crossed legs stretching out from the bed. Staying silent as all this rustling was going about, being sure to not alert Chul.

(spice)

"Are you ok..?"

"Y-yes sorry I couldn't see..." Kai Finally replied. My vision adjusted and fully realized the vulnerable position I was in. My back fully on the bed, anywhere past my knees dangling off the bed. Kai's adorable features inches away from mine. The longer strands of his dark hair met mine. His knee between mine. Big hands on either side of my head. Though there was a lot of other things I could be staring at, it was only his eyes. His sweet doe eyes shone just enough in the dim light. Partnering with the pink dusting his cute cheeks. Our eyes searched each other as we again fell silent. Kai's head fell low suddenly, his deep breath tickling my neck. He slid the wet towel off his neck and set it on the floor. Not meeting my prying eyes. He grabbed one of my hands that sat uselessly by my head. Leading it toward his bare form. He placed it upon his chest and finally faced me again. He muttered "Ah- cold."

"You...ah.. My heart doesn't know what to do when I'm near you."

Confused, not getting what he had meant. At first. But the steady fast heartbeat I felt moments after I understood what he had meant. I was making this pretty boy FLUSTERED? Or even.. My face shot bright red. I couldn't face him. Kai chuckled slightly at my reaction. Taking my hand from his soft grasp, I held his hand. He seemed a little shocked by the gesture.

"You.. can. Uhm.. stay..?" Too desperate? Probably. It got the message across. Our eyes locked again as we were both flustered. He guided my hand back down by my head. Our fingers intertwined. eyes flickered to my lips briefly. A silent question. Replying by doing the same he slowly inched closer. Closing his endearing eyes, lashes catching a shadow. Kai kissed me. Sweet and tenderly. Craving more of his touch. A single action lit a fire in my quiet self. This was the flame I was looking for. He kissed me again, with more passion. Nothing rough. Feeling like a treasure. Our lips still locked, I moved my hands to rest on Kai's bare shoulders. His thumb on the side of my face pushing stray hairs away. Pulling away out of breath. His gaze was more intense than I had expected. Causing me to only want to see more. Kai pulled away and sat up slightly looking down on me. He covered his mouth and avoided my gaze. He cleared his throat. Daring to test him I pulled the shirt up a little slightly. Showing more of my thighs. Which he had been hovering over. Looming back over me, he placed his lips next to my ear.

"How's this?" He asked in a whisper. Which was hot and adorable. He slid his hand up my leg to my thigh. Pressing his warm body closer to mine. A pathetic whimper left my mouth at his question. Kai left breath kisses on my ear. Slowly leading down my neck. His hand on my inner thigh, thumb grazing across it. My hands rested across his back. He licked a stripe back up my neck and met my lustful gaze. His eyes also lost in lust. Once again we silently stared at each other. Getting lost. Kai's hand wandered to rest at my hip, squeezing slightly. Another small moan escaped my lips. Kai took advantage and kissed me. A deeper more intense kiss. Turning us both into moaning messes. Feeling his hot form pressed up against me. I needed him.

"Sorry, was that too much-mng!" Kai had tried to ask me, until I brought him back into another kiss. A surprised cute moan caught us both off guard. The butterflies in my stomach grew claws. Ordering me to pounce.

"It wasn't too much. It wasn't enough."

A/N: I knowww i know its a long one and not much spiceeee. well get there eventuallyyy. 

[prnanayarquah]

Central Music Awards 2024: Full List of Nominees

New Post has been published on https://plugzafrica.com/central-music-awards-2024-full-list-of-nominees/

Central Music Awards 2024: Full List of Nominees

Heritage Promotions proudly unveils the official 13th Central Music Awards nominees list. Congratulations to all 358 nominees shortlisted respectively for the 37 categories.

New Categories Introduced:

Best Dance Group of The Year

Best Event of The Year

Voting duration for the Central Music Awards 2024 is from Wednesday, October 9, 2024, to Tuesday, November 26, 2024, at 11:59 PM.

The general public can vote for their favourite artiste by dialling *920*208# and INSERT NOMINEE CODE or visit https://jetcast.app.com

The 13th Central Music Awards’ main event night is Friday, November 29, 2024, at the Center for National Culture, Cape Coast. Below is the full list of nominees for the 2024 Central Music Awards.

 FULL LIST OF NOMINEES FOR CENTRAL MUSIC AWARDS 2024

 CAMPUS ARTISTE OF THE YEAR

ShySoul Belle – Holy Child College of Education

Begin Boy – Nyankumasi Ahenkro SHS

Yaw Filla – Oguaa Senior High Technical School

Bambi Blazing – Edinaman Senior High School

S. Square – Aggrey Memorial SHS

EMERGING ARTISTE OF THE YEAR

Asomade

Akyedie Yao

Kueci Jahsky

Stacy Maclean

Lady B. Queenstar

Kwaku Waddle

Kobina Prime

Jah Raty

The Same

Styley

JDH Empire

CK Black

Brother Osei

Etovibez

Kay Study

NEW ARTISTE OF THE YEAR

Tee Tonie

Ashby Guy

Gabby Kan

Juliet Duodu

Iam Rock

Bonyo Hyness

Bush Girl

Flamingo

Kofi Weather

Kwaku Tugabwoy

MannyRain

Y askyface

 GOSPEL SONG OF THE YEAR

Stacey Maclean – Lifter of my head

Bishop Isaac Baah – Enka Ho

Obaapa Peace – Daye

Juliet Duodu- Winning Side

Lady B. Queenstar – Celebration

Cindy Mezziah – Grateful

Brother Ishmael – Adom Nyame

Empress Christy – Aseda

Brother Osei – Adom Bi

FEMALE ARTISTE OF THE YEAR

Bush Girl

Lady B. Queenstar

Ama Nova

Minab

Stacy Maclean

Akasii

GOSPEL ARTISTE OF THE YEAR

Stacey Maclean

Bishop Isaac Baah

Obaapa Peace

Juliet Duodu

Lady B. Queenstar

Cindy Mezziah

Brother Ishmael

Empress Christy

Brother Osei

REGGAE SONG OF THE YEAR

Andy Prophett – By Grace

Jah Raty – Otanfo

Adomba Effah – it’s been long

Jeneral Rojah – Jam for love

Tallybo – Lovely Vibes

DANCEHALL SONG OF THE YEAR

Mula Palmer – Dollar sign

Idi Kawawa – Gidigidi

Emogy DJR – Most High

Jahdone Ratty – Skin pain

Okintoe – U nah geh sense

Real Survive Money – Guide me

Freme Kwame – Style no

Empaya Alonso – Run Di Place

AK Bwoy – Kasland Time

 BEST RAPPER OF THE YEAR

Kojo Vypa – Kinging

Goddy Wan ft. Big Tim – Mars

Skyty Nero ft. Kwesi Amewuga x Abu Trica – Heat Remix

Born Legend ft. Ypee – Non-Stop Remix

Mai Daawa – Freestyle Fury

Bonyo Hyness – Nzama Wura

Omar Burner ft. Lyrical Joe – My time

Minab – Ataya

Erny – Your brother’s keeper

Lyrical Famous – More money

Kweku Cidic – Survivor

Day3 Bee – 167 Gang

Idi Kawawa – 19th June

Freme Kwame – Abuburo Kosua

Okintoe – Rap Demon

Kwame Ebuburokosua – Pimpinaa Ft.Goddy Wan & Rich Kid

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Twicy – Live it up

Y aw Blvck – Hennessy

Y aw Darling – TGIF

Pentiumm – Jangolova

Iam Rock – Follow

Brother Ishmael – Adom Nyame

Mr. B-Fly – Baby Boo

Akyedie Yao – Over me

Khuami Sly – Ginger

Supa Shank – Abrabo

Mula Palmer – Time Up

EK Nacosty – Da N’ase

FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Bush Girl – Donkomi

Lady B. Queenstar – Celebration

Ama Nova – Look at me now

Minab – V oodoo

Stacy Maclean – Lifter of my head

Akasii – Bebe

Juliet Duodu – Winning Side

Cindy Mezziah – Grateful

Empress Christy – Aseda

Obaapa Peace – Daye

 PRODUCER OF THE YEAR

Supa Shank

Gachios Beatz

Wyz Beatz

LiugeeBeatz

Beat Classic

Etobeatz

Mogyeez

SOUND ENGINEER OF THE YEAR

Supa Shank

Gachios Beatz

Brown Beatz

LiugeeBeatz

Beat Classic

Baron Beats

Ofasco Ne Beat

Mrbrownbeatz

Mogyeez

GH MOST POPULAR SONG OF THE YEAR

Lasmid – Puul

Amerado – Kweku Ananse

Gyakie – Rent Free

King Paluta – Aseda

King Promise – Favorite Story ft Sarkodie & OliveTheBoy

KiDi – Lomo Lomo ft Black Sherif

DopeNation – Zormizor (AsaBone)

Safo Newman – Akokoa

Kofi Kinaata – Effiakuma broken heart

MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR

Yaw Daring – TGIF

Twicy – LOTTO

Loyce Sings – Confessions

Juliet Duodu – Winning Side

Yaw Blvck – Holy Sinner

Kojo Vypa – Kinging

Goddy Wan Mars Ft. Big Tim

Jay Baba – Dorime Ft. Quamina MP

Yhaw Fargo – Daily Bread

Iam Rock – Follow

Tee Tonie – Money

Born Legend – Waakye

Idi Kawawa- God Dey

Bush Girl – Donkomi

 BEST PROMOTER OF THE YEAR – PRESENTER 

Mc Sparrow – Oxygen FM

Dj Poppah – Rock FM

Nii Johnson -Obrempong FM

Kojo Kin – Pax FM

Mista Chanti – Obantanpa Radio

Nac Abrantie – Bohyeba FM

Akua AJ – Kastle FM

BEST PROMOTER OF THE YEAR – DJ

DJ Kobby – Hope FM

DJ Apeeco – The Truth Pub

DJ Akesesem – Obrumankoma FM

DJ Kaygee – Kastle FM

DJ Brain – The Truth Pub

DJ Cesh – Mingles Night Club & Bar, Kasoa

DJ Kobby Roro – Nap Radio

DJ Pacolo – Bohyeba FM

ONLINE PROMOTER OF THE YEAR

Media Connect Gh

Kofi Tutu

Cape Coast Promota

Macshat News

Believe Promotions

NAJ Media

Flyt Media

King Herod Media

BEST PUB/NIGHT CLUB OF THE YEAR

Aussie Pub and Lounge – SinCity Agona Swedru

The Truth Pub – Agona Swedru

Heritage Hut – Agona Swedru

Downtown Pub – Breman Asikuma

2nd Kastle – Mankessim

Tipsy’s Pub & Restaurant – Mankessim

Finest Pub – Assin Fosu

Cloud 95 – Assin Fosu

NK City – Cape Coast

Whispers Tales – Cape Coast

Blue Top Villa – Kasoa

LIVE BAND OF THE YEAR

DreamSounds Live

Band Emintsimadze Band

Dynamics Band

2nd Kastle Band

Oguaaman Band

 BEST MANAGEMENT OF THE YEAR

Shabad Records

The Blvck Tribe

Kingzy entertainment GH

Checkzone Family

Sky Entertainment

BEST BRASS BAND OF THE YEAR 

Cape Vibes

Adom Mysterious Band

Blu Band

CoastPlay Movement Band

Flat Five Band

MASQUERADE GROUP OF THE YEAR

JUSTICE MASQUERADERS – Cape Coast

OHY3W AKOMEM MASQUERADERS – Cape Coast

HOLY CROSS MASQUERADERS – Cape Coast

PANYA MASQUERADERS – Cape Coast

EMIRA TES MASQUERADERS – Cape Coast

SANATO MASQUERADERS – Cape Coast

ADZEPA MASQUERADERS – Cape Coast

BEST FANBASE OF THE YEAR 

Day3 Bee – 167 Geng

Jah Raty – Possible Movement

Khofy Guyson – Guysonity Soldiers

Skyty Nero – Waguan Movement

Bonyo Hyness – Bonyo Movement

DJ Cesh – Cesh City

Tallybo – Cat Nation

Erny – WJ Family

BEST EVENT OF THE YEAR 

Made In Ekumfi Concert

Goddy Wan – 24Hours With The Trees 2023

Kojo V ypa – MOE Concert 2024

Blow Media – Abankese Festival 2023

Cape FM – Orange Friday 2023

Kastle FM – Asankamu Festival 2023

Believe Promotions – Loud in Mfantseman Concert

DJ Cesh – We from far festival

Aussie Pub and Lounge – Swedru Akwambo Celebration with Kuami Eugene

The Truth Pub – Halloween Night

Heritage Hut – Kofi Kinaata live concert

Messi Music Promotion – The Lambo Concert

Mista Chanti Promotions -Yellow on Black Party

 BEST DANCE GROUP OF THE YEAR 

UNDHEM Dancers

Swedru Lords

ECAC Dance Troop – Ekumfi

Team Groove Dancers

Elmina Dance Academy

The Subscribers

B Boys Kings

Team Warriors

Monsters Dance Group

Massive Dance Family

Greatness Dancers

`HIGHLIFE SONG OF THE YEAR

Yaw Blvck – True or False

Khuami Sly – Ginger

Y aw Darling – TGIF

Supa Shank – Abrabo

The same – Mframa

Gabby Kan – Goodbye

EK Nacosty – Da n’ase

Jay Baba – Dream Big

Bonyo Hyness – Moneria

Minab – V oodoo

Enaph Mhoni – Showdown

Skippy Brown – Kp3l3 Kp3l3

DJ Repentance – Feelings

HIPLIFE SONG OF THE YEAR

C Burn – Detti water (Ankos)

Kwesi Taadi – Thy grace

Flamingo – Wataado

Kwaku Tugabwoy – efie nipa

Minab – Ataya

Skyty Nero – Heat Remix Ft Amewuga & Abu Trica

Kubi Brown – stand firm

Adoma Kracker – me ko me ni

Ogatoo – Hustle

AK Bwoy – Ginger Love ft. Gachios

Kwame Ebubrunkosua – Vida

Okintoe – Rap Demon

Joemexx – V er

CK Black – Big Six

 INTERNATIONAL ACT OF THE YEAR

Osagyefo AYPC (Qatar)

DayVybz (Germany)

Tee Tonie (Belgium)

Brother Ishmael (USA)

JDH Empire (Nigeria)

Jay Baba (USA)

TallyBo (USA)

HIP-HOP SONG OF THE YEAR

Kojo Vypa – Kinging

Kweku Cidic – Survivor

Yaw40fyd – Sika Ho Adwen

Omar Burner – My Time ft Lyrical Joe

Amankrado Gh – Dear God

Yhaw Fargo – Daily Bread

Goddy Wan – Mars Ft. Big Tim

Is Hommie – Broken heart

Bonyo Hyness – Nzama Wura

Don Proph – Move

Kwame Ebuburokosua – Pimpinaa ft. Goddy Wan & Rich kid Erny – Huhuhu

Born Legend – Non-Stop Remix ft. Ypee

Mc Kay ft kasland stars – Kasoa Must Shine

Kofi Weather – Crazy

Conqra – Broke & Famous

MannyRain – Drip Check

AFROPOP SONG OF THE YEAR 

Yaw Blvck – Holy sinner

Bush Girl – Donkomi

Ama Nova – look at me now

Yaw Darling – stay with me

JoeMexx – Y aa baby

Revlaytion – In the name of Jesus

Khofy Guyson – My vibe

Twicy – Live it up

Jay Baba ft Quamina MP – Dorime

Pentiumm – Jangolova

Yhaw Fargo – Pull Up

Iam Rock – Follow

 BEST COLLABORATION OF THE YEAR

Kojo Vypa – Location ft. Snowbell

Kwesi Taadi – Thy Grace Ft. Fameye

Yaw Blvck – Chargie ft. LuigeeBoi

Goddy Wan – Mars ft. Big Tim

Born Legend – Non Stop Remix ft. Ypee

Jahdone Ratty – Chance ft. Ras Kuuku.

Ashby Guy – Friday night ft. Kojo Vypa & LiugeeBoi

Skyty Nero – Heat Remix Ft Kwesi Amewuga & Abu Trica

Flamingo – Wataado ft. Oja420

Emogy DJR – Cold World ft. Kahpun

Tee Tonie – Last Last ft. Boggy Wenzday

Kwaku Tugabwoy – Hope ft. Kofi Sika & Joe Mayar

Jay Baba – Dorime ft. Quamina MP

Amankrado GH – Dear God ft Umaru Kiddin & Joe Mayar

Idi Kawawa – God Dey ft. Kopow

SONGWRITER OF THE YEAR

Kwesi Taadi – Thy Grace

Twicy – Live it Up

Yaw Darling – TGIF

Skyty Nero – Addict Prayer

Marahny – Story

Jay Baba – Dream Big

Yaw Blvck – Mine Your Business

EK Nacosty – Da N’ase

Kubi Brown – Stand firm

Amankrado GH – Enjoyment

Supa Shank – Abrabo

Khofy Guyson – Cemetery

Gabby Kan – Goodbye

Andy Prophett – Nanso

Abrantie Boabis – Champagne

Pentiumm – Jangolova

BEST MUSIC GROUP OF THE YEAR

Nyamekyeame Praiz Ministry

Sobologeng

Smelling Good Geng

Akoo Show Choir

[vprki]

Критичен поглед: Кой/коя съм аз…

Първото изречение на книгата на младата германска писателка Саша Мариана Залцман „Извън себе си“ е „Не знам къде отиваме, всички останали знаят, аз не знам“  задава тона за останалата част от романа. Вглъбяване и описание на младата Алиса - Али върху пътуването, което предприема във времето, когато всичко е днес. Книгата стига до българския читател, благодарение на издателство Black Flamingo Publishing в превод на Борислав Петранов.

Независимо дали това са драматичните истории на прабаба, прадядо, баба, дядо, родителите, нейните и на и брат ѝ близнак Антон, романът обследва живота като смисъл и разбиране на човека в теб. Не е хронология, а лично търсене на себе си, закодирано някъде в 30-те години на Съветска Русия, Втората световна война, сталинските репресии, емиграцията в Германия в началото на 90-те, когато те с брат ѝ са деца. И после едно пътуване в Истанбул, за да търси Антон, дал знак, че е там само с пощенска картичка без подател и адрес от мегаполиса край Босфора. Кой ще ти каже кой си?  

Саша Мариана Залцман

В дебютния си роман Саша Мариана Залцман разказва за търсенето – на изчезналия  брат, на фрагменти от семейната история, на подкрепа, на хора, които да те разберат. Интензивно, безкомпромисно, плътно, като преминаване от време във време, от търсене към търсене преди всичко на себе в този свят, където се размиват понятия като родина, корени, сексуална и личностна принадлежност. Близнаците Алиса и Антон са заедно от самото начало. През постсъветските години, в малкия двустаен апартамент в Москва здраво се държат един друг за къдриците, когато родителите им взаимно се нападат, нападат и децата. Витае неразбиране, понякога стига до омраза и нетърпимост. По-късно в западногерманската провинция се скитат из коридорите на емигрантското общежитие, кра��ат цигари от стаите на другите семейства и душат техните шишенца с парфюми. А още по-късно, когато Алиса вече се е отказала от следването си по математика в Берлин, защото ѝ пречи да тренира бокс, Антон изчезва безследно. По някое време ще дойде неговият знак от Истанбул.  Алиса заминава в блестящия, разпокъсан град, за да го търси. Това я отвежда в собствената семейна история и колкото по-дълго я разследва, толкова по-малко неща изглежда, че имат смисъл – майчин език, държава, пол. Алиса събира фрагменти от спомени, от които не знае дали някога ще направи едно цяло.

Романът звучи и като театрална постановка в различните си епизоди, преплетени в семейна сага, но не е за нея. Дори преди началото на повествованието авторката е отбелязала действащите лица и кратко пояснение кои са те, така както се обозначават героите в пиеса. Но това въвеждане към хората са добавени и думи на писателката Ингеборг Бахман: „Само времевите определения трябваше да обмислям дълго, защото за мен е почти невъзможно да кажа „днес“, въпреки, че всеки ден се казва „днес“…“. Залцман допълва и своето: „Времето всъщност е едно Днес, отпреди сто години и до сега.“.

Саша Мариана Залцман е родена през 1985 година във Волгоград, живее с родителите си в Москва и когато е на 10 години семейството емигрира в Германия като еврейски „бежанци от квотата“ („Kontingentflüchtlinge“). /През 90-те години най-после съветските тогава власти разрешават емиграция на свои гра��дани от еврейски произход. Почти милион за няколко години се изселват в Израел, а други в Западна Европа, САЩ – б.а./. Следвала е литература, театър и медии в университета в Хилдесхайм и драматургия в Берлинския университет по изкуствата. Тя е автор на текстове за театър, есеист и драматург и е съосновател на списанието за култура и общество freitext. От сезон 2013/2014 е постоянен автор на театър Максим Горки в Берлин, където до 2015 година е била и художествен ръководител на Студио Я. Нейните пиеси са поставяни в Германия и в чужбина и са получили множество награди. Сред тях са: Награда за изкуство Берлин 2020 (сценични изкуства); Лектор по поетиката на Рикарда Хуч 2020; Награда Mara Cassens 2017 на Хамбургската литературна къща за романа  ѝ „Извън себе си“, който е и в краткия списък на номинираните за Германската литературна награда за 2017 година.

Ето и формулировката на журито: „Дебютен роман с голяма лингвистична и драматургична сила: от постсъветска Москва през бежански център в провинция Западна Германия до днешен Истанбул, Саша Мариана Залцман пише за сътресенията и солидарността на семейство бежанци. И все пак тя пише преди всичко с увереност, богатство от перспективи, хумор и голям фокус за по-младото поколение на тези „странници в родината“, поколение, борещо се за своята идентичност - езикова, политическа и сексуална. С очарователен собствен тон, тя описва наново многото начини, по които реалността осуетява личните мечти на това поколение, обхващащо света. Европа се разраства в тази книга, но не се превръща в дом“.

Българското издание на романа “Извън себе си”

Саша Мариана Залцман обмислено, умно и емоционално се занимава с темите за паметта, идентичността и миграцията, като пита дали езикът, националността или полът са важни за самоопределението ни. Алиса - Али,  уж търси брат си близнак Антон, но всъщност търси собствената си самоличност. Търсенето на брат ѝ се превръща в пътешествие на паметта. Писателката наситено с безкомпромисни краски рисува залети с история моментни снимки от живота на три поколения в семейството на Али и пресъздава как като евреи, са преживели безмилостните събития в Русия от ХХ век – жестокостта и глада от 30-те години, Втората световна война, чистките на Сталин и падането на комунизма. И през цялото това време са се движили по ръба да доказват, че са добри граждани, верни на професионалния си дълг да са добри лекари, да обгрижват и лекуват болни деца или да лекуват ранените и заедно с това да учат, да се развиват, независимо че всеки момент могат да бъдат посочени с пръст за виновни само, защото са евреи…

Но принудителното мигрантството в самата Съветска Русия или поетият път към Германия, без да са забравени и бурканчетата със сладко, са само част от наситения пейзаж. Главното в романа не е този дълъг път, нерядко съпроводен от жестокостта на времената и стигащи до пълна нетърпимост в семейните отношения, сврени в соцкутийката на жилището, където е неизбежен сблъсъкът на поколенията с различен възглед за света наоколо. Посоката и търсенето на Саша Мариана Залцман е преди всичко стремежът да открие, да разбере пътя на човека към себе си. Почти непосилно за съвременния човек, който в екзистенциален план сякаш е обречен да се сблъсква не само с демоните и ангелите в себе си, а и с неизбежната самота и нелюбов.

Родени в Русия и израснали в Германия, близнаците не изпитват привърза��ост към нито една от двете страни и двамата успяват лесно да се преместят в Турция. Алиса - Али дори се чуди дали случайно е имигрирала, без да го забележи. Без брат си тя се бори да разбере коя е тя и след като се среща с Като, транссексуална изпълнителка, тя започва курс на лекарства за смяна на пола, който е свободно достъпен по улиците на Истанбул. Тя също така иска и да бъде наричана с името на брат си. Нейният преход не се споменава в семейството и Али смята, че разговорът с тях е толкова абсурден, колкото и да пита баба и дядо си защо социализмът се е провалил.

В последната глава Али се ръководи от своя приятел в Германия по телефона през задните улици на Истанбул, за да избегне въстанието, но си остава аутсайдер, който никога не се интегрира напълно в обществото, в което живее. Авторката не е деликатна, говори в упор, понякога дори стряскащо с мотива да продължава пътя към самопознанието и да описва състоянията на героите си. Ние, наистина ги виждаме като на театрална сцена. В този контекст атмосферата на град като Истанбул се извежда като жив организъм със сърце, с дишане, с болестите си, с удоволствията и нещастията си. Нажежената картина на бара в Истанбул влита в читателя, той е там, участва с всички в този наситен със странни ухания и съдби, става един от тях между страниците на романа.

Традиционните благодарности след финала на книгата Саша Мариана Залцман отново пише в друг, необщоприет ритъм и стил – само с едно име – Карин, Дорис, Надя, Шура, Вера…но и Орхан, Бахман, Кортасар, Бродски…и Истанбул…И завършва: „„Извън себе си“ се казва един от броевете на списанието за култура и общество freitext. Романът и аз благодарим за заглавието. Стар еврейски обичай е имената да се предават нататък.“ ≈

Текст: Зелма Алмалех

Снимки: архив

Борислав Петранов

P.S. на „въпреки.com“: Сред преводите на Борислав Петранов е и романът на германския писател Андре` Кубичек „Скици от едно лято“, пиеси на австрийския писател и драматург Феликс Митерер в сборника „В леговището на лъва”/„Няма по-хубава страна“ (1987), „В леговището на лъва“ (1998), избрана и за заглавие на изданието и „Боксьорът“ (2015). / В отделно издание е и преводът му на друга пиеса на Митерер „Веберови“ (Die Weberischen), написана в юбилейната година на Моцарт 2006 година, когато е премиерата ѝ, продукция на Обединени виенски сцени в Музеумквартир Виена, режисьор Щефани Мор. Всички книги за публикувани от издателство Black Flamingo Publishing.

Петранов е два пъти магистър: от УНСС по специалност „Финанси и кредит”, и от НАТФИЗ „Кр. Сарафов”, където завършва театрознание. Специализира в Германия и в Австрия, занимава се с театрална критика, бил е зам.-директор и драматург на Драматичен театър Пловдив и зам.-директор на Малък градски театър „Зад канала”. През ноември 2000 г. става първия изпълнителен директор на Национален фонд „Култура”, а от юли 2002 г. след конкурс става директор на БКИ „Дом Витгенщайн” във Виена. През пролетта на 2008 г. печели отново конкурса. Автор е на книгата „Българската Нора” (2001). Заедно с преводача Александър Зицман е съставител на тома „Млад театър от България” (2006), издаден от австрийското издателство „Драва”. През 2014 година получава наградата на Министерството на културата за приноса му в популяризирането на българо-австрийските културни отношения и за популяризирането на българската култура, а през 2016 година - международната награда „Водно конче” за принос в развитието на българо-австрийските връзки в областта на театралното изкуство. Актьор, режисьор и преводач и сега казва, че преводът най-много го привлича. В момента е директор на БКИ Берлин.

[globalatomic]

Publish Jame Flamingo Camp S/S Shirt - Black

Relaxed fit, camp collar button up short sleeve shirt in a fun flamingo all over print.

Fabric: 100% polyester

[evelienclarkewriter]

Hi Everyone

Like quite a few writers I to was procrastinating on the advice to have a diverse range platforms to connect with other writers and potential readers. Also on some of my stories like we all do when we are crippled with the “what if my novel/novella/short story sucks-itis”. But I digress. Much like everyone else on Twitter collectively going him yeah I should probably do that put my presence on another platform thing now all my internet friends are doing it so I won’t be lonely or awkward here I am.

No kangaroos this time but a consolation koala and on of my many failed attempts to get published this year will finally have a home. a 100 word horror comedy submission that wasn’t the best fit for that magazine. I finished it on time and submitted it without forgetting so it’s a winner in my book. (I have quite a few I forgot to send into places).

Attack of the killer flamingos

They stride upon thier grey spindly legs. There nobby knees bent backwards as they stalk forward. Hungry for more human fleash. Pink and white feathered wings outstretched to round up fleeing victims. Thier angry beady yellow eyes darting as the move forward drenched in blood and viscera from the carnage thier uprising has caused. The stench of death as the eye of one of the defenders slides down it’s glistening black beak. Our people have been shattered by the onslaught and our weapons are useless against thier numbers. Humanity has finally fallen. The dawn of the flamingo is upon us.

[charnelhouse]

Publishing nonny-- There's large and small houses that accept romance and erotica: Black Lotus, Blushing Books, Bold Strokes, Carina Press, Devine Destinies, Pink Flamingo, Siren, Soul Mate but like consider Tor will publish good erotica that otherwise fits their brand. Consider the Wiggs and Evanovich, you can get big rep. Don't talk yourself down assuming you can't be on shelves because of what you do IF the being on the shelf is what matters to you. You got this. Query the shit out of them. Or choose Kindle. Both are good but I just sensed you wanted the shelf rec with how you phrased it and wanted to be supportive <3 You can do either of those amazingly <3

trueeeeeee

finding an agent takes SO SO long though and then that agent finding a publishing house

i gotta think about dis

[uwmspeccoll]

Science Saturday

Today we are highlighting Mark Catesby’s The Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands from our friends over at Milwaukee Public Library’s Rare Book Room. This edition was published in two volumes in 1771 in London for B. White. Here in UWM Special Collections we have a great full-size facsimile copy that was published in 1974 by the Beehive Press.

Mark Catesby was an English naturalist, explorer, and artist. He was born in Essex in 1683. His uncle Nicholas Jekyll had ties to the famous botanist John Ray and other members of the intelligentsia of British natural history. In 1712, Catesby first came to America to visit his sister who had married and settled in Virginia. While in America he collected botanical specimens to send back to Britain. Catesby stayed in America until 1719, and during this time also visited Jamaica. Mark Catesby returned to America in 1722, this time under the patronage of the Governor of South Carolina, Sir Hans Sloan, Charles Dubois, and William Sherard. Catesby traveled extensively along the east coast of North America doing fieldwork, making observations about plants and animals, and collecting specimens. Upon returning to England, Catesby set to work on publishing his seminal work The Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands. Catesby taught himself to make the engravings for the book, based on his original drawings from out in the field. He created 263 original watercolors as preparatory studies which he later turned into hand-colored etchings. The first volume was completed in 1732 and the second volume was completed in 1743. It was highly successful and three editions were printed, the last being the one printed in 1771. After the success of Catesby’s book, he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society where he contributed to the dissemination of scientific knowledge.

The illustrations that Mark Catesby produced were based on his direct observations but they also have a very whimsical quality. There are many inventive compositions, such as the disembodied flamingo head floating in coral or the black squirrel hiding behind some lady slipper orchids.

There is a completely digitized version of The Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands available to browse online through the Biodiversity Heritage Library.

View more Science Saturday posts.

–Sarah, Special Collections Graduate Intern

[brittlebranchesandbossbitches]

As Retold by Ginger, Episode 37: And She Was Gone

Brief summary

This episode is about depression, but it's not.

All Ginger did was write a poem about a girl that was depressed and wanted to literally disappear, but everyone loses their shit because they misinterpret it as a cry for help. She shows it to Ms. Zorski for critique, and her response was to refer Ginger to the school psychologist. I mean, she was super nice about it, though. No one believes her when she says it's not about her, not even Dodie and Macie. (Spoiler alert: she gets published)

Meanwhile, Carl buys some vanishing powder from a magic shop and uses it on a girl named Noelle Sussman to make her disappear. Barely minutes after putting it around her desk, he and Hoodsey realize that they've been missing out on someone awesome, and Carl is damn near in love with her by lunch. When she doesn't show up the next day, he freaks out. The situation is so dire that he even sells his beloved petrified eyeball to buy the reversal potion. Then he finds out that the Sussmans moved across town, so she had to change schools.

Spot the Clique

Casey is in Ginger's English class.

Casey is also behind Dodie and Macie in the cafeteria with Lonnie.

Courtneyisms

Courtney's attention-seeking behavior is just straight-up Leo energy. (She's not a Leo, but I bet her ascendant is.)

"Being miserable earns you scads of extra attention. And who doesn't need extra attention, Ginger?"

Gingerisms

Ginger is typing her poem on a typewriter. Is it for aesthetic, or has Lois simply not managed to buy a used computer from work yet? Both are valid.

The Dodie Desperation Index

Not even a full two minutes into the episode, and Dodie's trying to get Ginger to write her potentially published poem about her.

"Sometimes, when my mother is feeling down, she locks herself in the bathroom and screams into a hand towel." I don't know what to do with that bit of information. Wow.

Miranda’s Malice

"Man, if I had known you were, like, clinically depressed, I might have gone a little easier on you."

"I mean, there are days I really wished you'd disappear, but I had no idea you felt that way, too!"

Boys and their Toys

So this is the Noelle section today, and here's what we learned:

Noelle has finger puppets of Hoodsey, Brandon, and Mrs. Gordon. And those were just the ones I spotted.

She doesn't touch veal

She was born in Portugal

She has a pet flamingo

She's obsessed with black holes

She was an extra on a show called "Town Square"

She was held back in kindergarten for refusing to lay down on a mat.

Continuity

Must be winter because Carl's actually wearing a jacket.

Trivial Things

There's a second elementary school in Sheltered Shrubs, Happy Flower Elementary.

[earthstory]

Melanism Melanism is the development of a dark pigment (melanin) in the skin of an organism, which, like albinism alters the appearance of the organism. Examples of melanism in the animal kingdom include the Black Panther (a melanic form of the leopard), coral snakes, birds (such as flamingos), canids and squirrels.

Melanism can often be described as adaptive as the development of dark pigment in the skin can be beneficial to the species (and thus there is a greater chance of reproduction due to its ability to be camouflaged), for example the Black Panther which hunts at night. Melanism can also be described as industrial. Industrial Melanism occurs in urban environments with high volumes of pollution in which organisms evolve pigmentation to match levels of pollution. The common example of this is the Peppered Moth. This moth originally lived on light coloured lichens and thus was a light colour to camouflage itself. However, when high levels of air pollution killed the lichens, it exposed the dark coloured bark of the trees, meaning lighter coloured moths were less likely to survive. A mutation that appeared at least a century ago had led to the existence of a population of much darker moths, and these moths seemed to proliferate in cities before the establishment of clean air rules in the 1960s - a seemingly testable example of rapid species evolution There has been much controversy over this 'perfect' example of selection; and as such Michael Majerus embarked on an experiment including 4864 moths to confirm whether the theory was correct. Sadly Majerus died before being able to publish his results, but four of his colleagues then wrote up and published a paper on his findings verifying that in fact there was a large difference in predation rates affecting those moths (which is linked below). ~SA Image: http://bit.ly/1KLs1Tv Melanistic Eastern Grey Squirrel by Ryan Hodnett Further Reading: https://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-36424768 - Peppered Moth Controversy http://bit.ly/1LSGvD0 - Molecular Genetics and Evolution of Melanism in the Cat Family by Eizirik, Yuhki, Johnson, Menotti-Raymond, Hannah and O'Brien. http://bit.ly/1ChC9lG - Black Flamingo.

[redgoldsparks]

November 2020 reading and reviews by Maia Kobabe

Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin

Very sad and very gay, and a much quicker read than I'd anticipated. The protagonist is David, an American living in Paris to escape himself. He's not a very sympathetic character, except in the sense that his situation made me reflect on how hard it is to live openly and without shame when society is completely disgusted by one's sexuality. The book has a certain element of mystery which I was glad I knew nothing about, so I'll say no more about the plot here. I definitely want to read more James Baldwin.

The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta

This novel is told in verse, which was a surprise to me when I opened up the cover. Some of the poems are written by the main character, Michael, but most narrate his life from a first person point of view. Michael is born in London to a Cypriot Greek mother and a Jamaican father, who leaves Michael and his mom behind. At six years old he asks his mother for a Barbie, and in elementary school all his friends are girls. He comes out as gay in high school by asking a fellow male drama student out, and he is rejected, but kindly. The second half of the book takes place entirely during Mike's first year at university, where he joins the Drag club, makes his first Black friend, has sex for the first time. Drag and performance give him a space to full explore, for the first time, the full aspects of his identity- mixed race, black and queer, writer and performer, unseen and seen.

Cranberry Thanksgiving by Wendy and Harry Devlin

An annual favorite from my childhood. Short and sweet.

The Adventure Zone: Petals to the Metal by The McElroys and Carey Pietsch

I remember this series of episodes as some of my very favorite from the whole TAZ Balance arc, and I feel like the comic is really finding it's feet as well. There are a ton of great action sequences, the jokes are there, and some beautiful and emotional slash pages. It's still really hard for me not to compare each page to my memories of listening to the podcast- I think that whichever version (pod or comics) a person experiences first, that version will probably always be their favorite.

Crying is Like The Rain by Heather Feinberg and Chamisa Kellogg

I can't tell you how excited I was to check this beautiful picture book out from my local library. It's illustrated by Chamisa Kellogg, a friend who I met in the THIRD GRADE! We were two of the most "artsy" kids in our class all the way through high school, and now we are both published illustrators <3 This short, accessible text uses metaphors of weather to talk about emotion, specifically how emotions like sadness and anger are natural, and that we all experience them like passing storms. The unnamed main characters walk to school, through fields, puddles and rain showers, and see a gorgeous rainbow at the end.

I'll Be The One by Lyla Lee

Skye Shin, the main character of this story, is Korean-American, fat, bisexual, and wildly talented. She goes behind her strict, disapproving mother's back to audition for an LA-based kpop talent scout TV show and is accepted in both the singing and dancing categories. She wants to be the kind of role model she lacked as a child: a glam, unapologetic, plus-sized star. But standing in her way is a harsh judging team of Korean music professionals; toxic beauty standards; and forty fellow contestants, including Henry Cho- an instagram famous pretty boy. This is a super fast, fun, easy read. I hope there's a sequel in the works!

Displacement by Kiku Hughes

This story is an interesting mix of fact and fiction. The author writes about an alternate reality in which she, at age 17, was transported back in time to the 1940s to catch glimpses of her grandmother as a teen. Her grandmother was one of roughly 120,000 Japanese-Americans forced into an internment camp during WWII. Teenage Kiku finds herself living next door to her grandmother's family in an un-insulated wooden barrack in the Topaz, Arizona camp. But she is unable to gather the courage to meet her grandma- and also, Kiku does not speak Japanese, one of many forms of cultural loss which effects her family generations after the camps. Instead Kiku befriends some of the other high schoolers in camp and gains a deeper understanding of the hardships they faced, such as food shortages and loyalty tests. The book is beautifully illustrated in a palette heavy in blues, rusts, and dusty browns. The story unfolds a bit slowly, but it brings an important and accessible new look at this time period. It would be a good companion to George Takai's They Called Us Enemy, and Hughes acknowledges her debt to Octavia Bulter's Kindred in the end notes.

Natsume's Book of Friends vol 1 by Yuki Midorikawa

Natsume, a teenage orphan who has been passed between extended family homes his whole life, can see things. Specifically, Yokai and ghosts. When he discovers a handwritten book made by his grandmother full of the names of Yokai she stole, he realizes that what he has is an uncomfortable inheritance. Knowing the names allows him to control the spirits, but instead Natsume decides to return the names and try to help some of these supernatural beings find peace. The more Yokai he meets, the more Natsume realizes they aren't so different from humans after all. A very charming beginning to a series I plan to keep reading!

K-pop Confidential by Stephan Lee

This book was so much fun! Read the whole thing in one day, which is perhaps my favorite way to consume a novel. New Jersey native Candance Park is 15 years old, a model Korean American daughter, with a passionate love of music. She plays viola resentfully and guitar enthusiastically, and has started writing her own songs. Her best friends (both Kpop and Ru Paul's Drag Race fans) convince Candance to enter a global Kpop audition, and incredibly, she is offered a place as a trainee at a top Kpop company in Seoul. Then comes the hard part: convincing her parents that she can go. She tells them that even if she only lasts a few months at the company it will make for a great college essay. Think of how much her Korean will improve! Finally it's decided her mom will fly to Korea with Candance to help care for her ailing grandpa while Candance trains. So starts the most intense, exhausting, emotionally draining, and exhilarating summer of Candance's life. She quickly makes both friends and enemies in her dorm roommates, struggles against the controlling diets and punishing rehearsal schedules. She has a killer voice, but does she have what it takes to debut as a idol?

Beetle and the Hollowbones by Aliza Layne

I absolutely loved this brightly colored, charming Halloween-themed story! Beetle in a teen goblin who's being home schooled by her Gran in magic, but spends most of her free time hanging out at the mall with her new friend Blob Ghost. Then Beetle's old best friend, Kat Hollowbone, comes back from magic boarding school. She's earned her sorcery stone and has over 2,000 followers on Swarm! They used to write fanfiction together, but how can Beetle possibly talk to her now? Then it turns out Kat's bitchy rich aunt is planning to buy the mall and knock it down. Can Beetle reconnect with her old friend and save her new one? Every single page in this book is a delight, full of fun spooky character designs (lots of cobwebs, pumpkins, bats) and also lively, loose line art. Every time someone's eyes filled with anime sparkles my heart swelled.

Our Dining Table by Ori Mita

A soft, sweet, single volume love story. Yutaka is a young office worker who eats store bought food alone in a park every day- until Tane, a boisterous little boy, runs up and cutely talks him out of half his lunch. His much older brother Minoru scolds Tane, but the pair end up inviting Yukata over to teach them how to make onigiri. This connection ending up being exactly the kind of nourishment all of these lonely boys desperately needed.

Cyclopedia Erotic by Aminder Dhaliwal

I got to read this book early to give it a back cover blurb! I really liked the book, I had already read portions of on insta but the new material really fleshes out the story and brings it all together. The lives of ten characters in the same city intertwine as each grapples with living in an otherized body. Their physical differences are fetishized, marketed to, discriminated against, and misunderstood, as bodies are in our own world. What to do when people see your single eye but not yourself? Rage about it, laugh about it, make art about it and work to change the world for the better. Dhaliwal is such a deft and clever storyteller! This book made me giggle and made me think, and it fueled my own determination to continue pushing for real social change.

[hiromisuzukimicrojournal]

Four Poems in French Traditional Colour

✽

Blanc Cassé

Just as there is no pure white soul There is no pure black evil.

On a berth in the Tatara furnace The ice crystals of sin are melting.

Footprints of the one-eyed giant On a wetland of the adipocere in woods. Footsteps of someone who has no face no body Sublimate the heat through the folding screen.

...

Charbonneux

Wings of the eagle crossing the sunlight. A shade dancing to the scores the sun writes.

The well of the world’s end. A contrail vanishing into the sky. Stepchild who dresses with cinders. Charcoal which keeps on burning faintly.

Raising an octave like the water flowing A white noise in the background fades to black.

...

Flamant Rose

Falling asleep Sweeping the flame With feather broom.

Roses in the sky Dazzle in the puddle.

...

Vert Foncé

Turn on the light of lantern For her consommé jellied heart.

The twilight is clear and soaking Into the mountain pass of broccoli.

✽

© images: hiromi suzuki, 2021

…

*Blanc Cassé: Off-White *Charbonneux: Charcoal Grey *Flamant Rose: Flamingo Pink *Vert Foncé: Deep Green

Note: Blanc Cassé, Charbonneux, Flamant Rose, Vert Foncé are parts of the first poetry collection Ms. cried – 77 poems by hiromi suzuki (kisaragi publishing, 2013 ISBN978-4-901850-42-1). Four poems written in Japanese have been translated by hiromi suzuki, 2021.

✽  ✽  ✽

Four Poems in French Traditional Colour / Hiromi Suzuki

© poetry by hiromi suzuki, 2021

published in RIC Journal (November 30, 2021)

…

via RIC Journal

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

ooh ask day! are you working on any of your own writing at the moment? what excites you about it? is your writing similar to your prompts in any way? or do the prompts fulfill something else for you?

mainly im working on getting my first novel published, which you can read about HERE. otherwise, the sequel, an adult fiction project, and an urban fantasy type YA about a town called florida. in florida. Florida, florida.

Florida project, working title BORDERLINE, is the most in line with my general prompt vibe here. a little cosmic horror, bent reality, just generally odd.

I never write stuff based off the prompts, but I DO write prompts based off my own stuff, very occasionally. for me, writing prompts is like scales for a musician. keeps my brain well oiled.

*still taking asks, no requests please*

anyway, ive been working on Florida project a lot lately. have an excerpt:

Backpage:

Lin O’Leary was born and raised in the town of Florida, Florida, tucked away into a corner of the state’s forgotten coast. All the locals know Florida is a strange place, rumored to stand on a borderline, where the veil is thin and mysterious forces wander alongside the human population. The daughter of Irish and Mexican immigrants, Lin knows you can only find trouble if you go looking for it, and like the rest of Florida’s residents, lives comfortably alongside the supernatural. This is before Momoko Kasahara disappears into thin air, frightening the town of Florida into a new, ultra-cautious existence. Five years after Momo’s disappearance, Lin is seventeen, a highschool dropout now working at a convenience store, her once vibrant town still plagued by fear. The days drag by, mundane as they come in Florida, occasionally punctuated by unpleasant visits from Bo Kasahara, brother to Momo and full time asshole. Then, one fateful late shift, Lin sees the missing Kasahara twin standing in the aisles, gone as quickly as she appeared. Meanwhile, a stranger arrives from California, claiming to be a paranormal investigator hellbent on uncovering the mysteries of Florida, and suddenly Lin is faced with a choice. Be smart and keep her head down, or dive headlong into the strange mist that so often covers Florida, to rescue Momo Kasahara, and return her town to the way she remembers it.

1. 100% humidity feels like breathing underwater.

L I N

Florida ate Momoko Kasahara on the most miserable day of the year, and washed her down with a thunderstorm. A lot of other important things happened that day, but Momo’s disappearance overshadowed them all. Momo was the coolest girl in our class. She had shiny black hair that ran down to her waist. She liked to wear a different flavor of lip gloss every day of the week, and could sing in Japanese. I was on my way home from the beach when I saw the police cars in her driveway, and her twin brother sitting on the porch, painted purple in the twilight. 

He shook his head, at me, slow, and all the sound seemed to drain out of the world. The flashing police lights distorted his face, as bright white clouds passed too quickly above us. The whole scene drove a stake of wrongness hard into my chest. Sometimes even now, I dream about it. Bo and I watching each other. The dead silence. The purple light. The too white clouds. And Momo, eaten.  For the first time in my life, I was afraid of my own town. 

My name is Lin O’leary. I live in Florida, Florida, a nothing sort of place crammed into an extra forgotten corner of the state’s already forgotten coast. Some days I can forget about Momo, and everything that happened in the hours before she vanished. Heff says I’m good at keeping my eyes closed, even when they’re open. 

I really wish he were right. 

2. Cloudy with a chance of hotdogs (haunted).

J U L I E N

I was standing in front of the worst building I had ever seen. Slab grey and full of sharp edges, additions had been slapped onto every side until it resembled an impossible puzzle piece. The front windows were crowded with signs for cold beer and hot food, but the glass itself was opaque. It was a convenience store from hell, a collection of stationary parts so nonsensical I was worried it might grow a few new alcoves if I blinked. Above the door, an unintelligible sign in complicated neon cursive flashed electric blue. There was a neon clock too, flickering wildly, just striking twelve.

I must have walked halfway across town, and as far I could tell this was the only place that sold food at all, let alone past three in the morning. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to go inside. My stomach was a mess, and haunted convenience store hot dogs could only make it worse. I fished my phone out of my pocket, but the little service I had was, like the midnight clock above me, barely clinging to existence, my map application nothing more than a collection of beige squares. There was no one around. The sky was intensely dark, a pitch black blanket of clouds. Water hung thick in the air, the night time street so quiet I could almost hear beads of sweat sliding down my already slick face. No, there was nothing for it. I needed directions. 

The bell above the door made a strange, flat sound as I pressed inside. If the building was weird from the outside, that was nothing to its interior. The shelves, tall and numerous, had been arranged like maze walls. The overhead lights were blinding, stark white, and every other tile on the floor was mismatched. Some were squares of carpet. The only thing really visible from the entrance was the register, a fortress made of dark wood and surrounded by lottery advertisements. Behind the counter, a girl was reading something intently. As I got closer, I saw it was the back of a box of oatmeal.

“Hi,” I said, adjusting the duffel bag that had been crushing my left shoulder for an hour. 

The girl nodded, but didn’t look up. She had thin black hair, pin straight and chin length. Her skin was a warm, golden brown. Her shirt said something in miniscule writing, but my glasses were a little foggy, so I would have had to practically press my face to her chest to read it, which didn’t seem like a great first impression.

“Can you help me? I’m looking for the Fahrenheit Motel. I think it’s supposed to be around here.” 

Finally, she glanced at me. 

“It’s just around the corner. See the glasses store across the street? Go straight past that and make the second left, you’ll run right into it.” 

She pointed out the window, and I realized they were one way. 

“Who built this place?” I asked. 

She shrugged. 

“We’ve had a lot of owners. Everyone adds something new.”

There was something off about her. Like we were talking, but mentally she was still 

reading the box of oatmeal. 

“I’m Julien,” I said, sticking out a hand. She raised her eyebrows before taking it. 

“Lin,” she said, with another small nod. 

Her face was round, but her features were knife sharp. I wondered what she looked like angry. Maybe that was a really weird thing to think. 

Not wanting to ask for a second set of directions, I wandered around the store for thirty minutes before returning to the counter with a gallon of chocolate milk and a bag of seaweed flavored potato chips. 

“I can’t believe you have these. I didn’t think you could find them outside of California.”

Instead of replying, Lin held up the chocolate milk. 

“There’s no fridge in your room at the Fahrenheit. You know that right?”

“I was told on the phone… ” I started.

“There’s a fridge, but it’s in the lobby, communal. Kimmy’ll drink this.” She gave the milk a little shake before scanning it. “Just warning you.”

“Thanks,” I said, as she stuffed my things in a smiling shopping bag. 

I paused on my way out.

“Goodnight,” I said, “Or, good morning I guess.” 

Lin stared at me, then glanced at the box of oatmeal and back. 

“Morning,” she said, with a sigh.

***

I followed Lin’s directions, and wound up at last in front of a long, low building sporting a vacancies sign. Even in low light I could see about a hundred sad looking plastic flamingos had been stuck all over the lawn, the bushes, even the gravel path that led to the front door. I had to pick my way around them on approach. 

There was no one at the front desk. The reception area was lit only by the green blue light coming from an enormous fishtank that didn’t seem to have any fish in it. As I approached the counter, I noticed someone had left the key to my room out for me, next to a scrap of paper bearing the wifi password. I picked up the key, old and brass, then watched the fishtank for a second, before turning around and experiencing heart failure. 

A very old woman with wiry black hair was standing there in her nightgown, arms crossed and frowning at me. She didn’t apologize for nearly sending me to my grave. 

“I’m up. I can check you in properly,” she said, shuffling past me. “I’m Kimmy, but you can call me Miss Kimmy. You got ID?” 

I dug it out of my wallet while she opened a dusty guest book. 

“The reservation is for Julien True,” I said. 

Miss Kimmy glanced at the ID I had just handed her. 

“That’s not what this says.”

“I know. It’s a stage name,” I admitted, “everything else is correct.”

She raised an eyebrow to herself, but didn’t ask any more questions. 

“Now listen,” she said finally, shutting the guest book with a snap. “I’ll be honest, there’s not much to do around here. There’s a bus runs to the state forest during the day, and the beach isn’t going anywhere. If you’re hungry that’s too bad for the most part, unless you feel like walking down to Morton’s.”

“Is that the weird looking building? One way windows?”

“That’s the one. Midnight Morton’s, never closes. This late at night you’ve got Lin at the counter, nice girl.” 

I don’t know what I would have called Lin, but it probably wasn’t ‘nice girl’.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing around for the hallway that led to my room.

I bid Miss Kimmy goodnight and lugged my things to Room 7, at the very end of the dark hall. Inside was simple, but stunningly clean, which I had in no way expected. The bed had a sunken spot in the middle, and there were a lot of paintings of tropical fish on the walls. Home sweet home. I changed into pajamas, and took a huge swig of chocolate milk before glancing at my duffel, still full of equipment. 

It could wait. I was exhausted, sweaty, and more alone than I had ever been in my entire life. 

3. Welcome to my grocery store how may I assist you.

L I N

“I want to drop out of high school,” said Roach. 

We were sprawled out on separate tartan sofas, both angled towards the ancient television. It was after midnight, and the only light in the room was coming from the nature channel.

“No you don’t,” I said. “You’re not even in high school.”

Roach was a weird little girl. Eleven years old, she wore oversized thrift store t-shirts, and big chunky glasses, and cut her own hair. I loved her the most in this world.

“Yeah, but when I get there, I want to drop out. You did.”

I sighed. 

“You’re smarter than me. You have to finish school and work in a laboratory anywhere but here. Those are the rules.” 

Roach crossed and uncrossed her skinny legs without arguing. I knew she just wanted to hear me say she was smart. 

We continued to watch the nature channel in silence. A documentary on the arctic ocean was playing, which I found devastatingly boring, but Roach was clearly glued to. I could hear dad snoring upstairs, a pleasant sort of nightly white noise, and tuned out completely until Roach clapped an inch from my face. 

“Jeez,” I started, pushing her hands away.

“You were way out there. It’s freaky.”

I had been practicing my zone out since I was Roach’s age. On my best day, I could have an entire conversation without hearing one word the other person said. Call it a life skill.

“You’re doing it again!” said Roach. “Don’t you have work soon?” 

That snapped me out of it. I looked at my watch. 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” 

I rolled off the couch as Roach sat back down with a huff. The arctic documentary was ending, and she picked up the changer to scroll through a long list of similar recordings. Roach loved animals, all of them, even fish that ate your insides, and grubs, and parasitic worms. Especially parasitic worms. 

“Don’t stay up too late okay?” I said, tugging gently on her massive ponytail. Roach got dad’s curly, reddish brown hair. I got mom’s.

“Mmhm.”

I glanced in the hall mirror to see if there was any food on my shirt. Then I stepped into the mosquito ridden, muggy Florida night, and headed to my shift.

***

You might be thinking: where does a seventeen year old high school dropout work after midnight? And the thrilling answer is: the grocery store, sort of.

You might be thinking: what? 

But that’s Morton’s. 

The sliding doors opened smoothly for me upon arrival, which was always a good omen. I straightened the newsstand and went to look for Barry.

My manager, a small, Dominican man who loved to party, was in the produce section with a woman I assumed was his latest girlfriend. He was chucking the moldiest vegetables into an open trashcan.

“Our fresh produce is a travesty,” I said. “When was the last time someone bought an eggplant here?”

“I’m thinking of moving the veg,” said Barry, “they don’t like the energy in this corner.”

Barry was constantly moving things around the small labyrinth that was Morton’s. At least once a month he would take an hour long stroll from shelf to shelf, while I wrote down what was going where. I made a new map of the store for every big move.

“What are you guys up to tonight?” I asked, as Barry followed me to the register, bag of moldy vegetables in hand.

“Dancing,” said his date, with an endearing round of jazz hands, as Barry broke into a stationary samba while he gave me a list of stuff to work on. He treated me to his own enthusiastic jazz hands, and a few notes of a Juan Luis Guerra song as he samba’d in the direction of the door. As it swung shut behind them, I let the intense silence of Morton's wash over me. The fluorescent lights hummed gently. The food sat well behaved in slightly crooked rows. I turned my brain down to its lowest setting, and consulted my list.

...