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blueiscoool · 3 years

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The Wreck of Nazi Spy-Hunting Ship USRC Bear Discovered

Ocean scientists have located the wreck of the U.S. Revenue Cutter Bear — a ship that served at sea for at least 88 years and played a part in the famous capture of a Nazi spy ship.

The Bear has a storied history: It started working as a commercial sealer in 1874. Then, because the ship could travel through ice-filled waters, the government purchased it in the 1880s to use for rescue work in the Arctic. It also served as a relief ship during the Spanish flu pandemic of 1918-1919, a floating museum, a film set for a Hollywood movie and an expedition ship on Adm. Richard Byrd's Antarctic explorations.

It also patrolled Arctic waters for the U.S. Navy in both world wars, and in 1941 it helped capture the Norwegian trawler Buskø, which was being used by the German military intelligence service Abwehr to report on weather conditions in the North Atlantic.

The Bear was decommissioned in 1944 and tied up at a wharf in Halifax, Nova Scotia. It finally sank after a storm in 1963, somewhere south of Nova Scotia and east of Boston, as it was being towed to Philadelphia.

"The Bear has had such an incredible history, and it's so important in many ways in American and global maritime heritage because of its travels," said Brad Barr, the mission coordinator for the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's (NOAA) Maritime Heritage Program, who has led the search for the wreck for several years.

Historic ship

In the late 1970s a group started searching for the Bear. It included the Massachusetts Institute of Technology's Harold Edgerton, who invented side-scan sonar — a technology widely used today to detect and image objects on the seafloor.

The group tested out the new side-scan technology in 1979, but they didn't find the wreck — possibly because the location of its sinking had been misreported by its tow ship, Barr said.

A secret Navy submersible — the nuclear-powered NR-1 —— carried out a second search in 2007, but it too was unsuccessful. Finally, the U.S. Coast Guard and NOAA joined forces with other partners and began another search in 2019.

After mapping 62 square miles (160 square kilometers) of seafloor with sonar, they identified two submerged objects in the search area.

In September, they returned on a Coast Guard ship equipped with a remotely operated vehicle (ROV) to take underwater video and confirm that the largest object is the wreck of Bear, Barr said.

The wreck now lies on the seafloor at a depth of about 200 feet (60 meters), in Canadian waters about 90 nautical miles (167 km) south of Nova Scotia's Cape Sable. The exact location is being kept confidential in the hopes of deterring technical divers from trying to reach it, Barr said. The search partners are discussing with the Canadian government how the wreck can be protected.

The aging wooden hull has been badly damaged by nets from fishing trawlers and strong currents on the seafloor. But the researchers identified several distinctive features of the Bear, including the "bow staples" that strengthened its hull to allow the ship to handle heavy ice in polar waters, Barr said.

Steamship to diesel

Although the Bear was equipped with three masts for sailing, it was built as a steamship for its role as a sealer in the 1870s. In the 1930s, the boiler was taken out and the steam engine replaced with a diesel engine as it was refitted for its Antarctic service with Byrd.

As a result, several piles of metal can be seen among the remaining wood of the wreck, which includes sailing-ship technologies, Barr said.

"There's a pile of metal rubble with a deadeye [a fixed wooden pulley] sticking up out of it," he said. "These deadeyes have been around since the 1700s, but they were used on the Bear to attach the standing rigging."

Among the Bear's most famous exploits was its part in the 1884 rescue fleet for the Greely Expedition to the Arctic, which had become lost in 1881 near Ellesmere Island, northwest of Greenland. Several members of the expedition died of starvation and disease before the Bear rescued Greely and the other survivors.

After serving for many years as a government revenue cutter in Arctic waters — intercepting and inspecting ships at sea, and often rescuing commercial ships trapped in ice — the Bear was transferred to the Navy; it patrolled around Alaska during World War I, and it delivered supplies there during the Spanish flu pandemic.

In 1929, the decommissioned ship was given to the city of Oakland in California, where it became a floating museum and then a film set for the 1930 movie "The Sea-Wolf," an adaption of a Jack London novel.

The Bear was recommissioned for Arctic patrols during World War II, when it helped capture the Buskø; but it was mostly tied up in Halifax after that, until it sank in 1963 on its final voyage to Philadelphia, where it was destined to become a floating restaurant.

"These are incredibly compelling stories," Barr said. "When you read the details of what the Bear did, how many lives it saved, how many incredible missions it was on — it is really the kind of history that people should be aware of."

To commemorate its discovery, Barr has compiled years of historical research into several website posts detailing the many exploits of the Bear. "One of the reasons why we wanted to find it is because it allows us to tell all these stories," he said.

By Tom Metcalfe.

#The Wreck of Nazi Spy-Hunting Ship USRC Bear Discovered #Norwegian Trawler Buskø #Historic Ship #WW2 #histoey #history news

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himbowelsh · 4 years

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Kiss prompt no.3 for Harry and Kitty! 🥰

sha-la-la-la my oh my, looks like the boy’s too shy 💋 (accepting!)

3. kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

He steps off the train with his bag over his shoulder and a spring in his step --- one his thigh, which still sometimes aches during rainstorms and long runs, doesn’t appreciate. A little pain never stopped Harry before. Paratroopers, he reminds himself, put up with plenty more than that... and even if he’s not strictly a paratrooper anymore, well, he didn’t earn those jumpwings for nothing.

His grin only dims when he scans the platform for familiar faces, and comes up blank. It’s not like he expected a welcoming party — he’s one of twenty fellas in uniform coming home on this train alone — but… well. He expected something. Someone.

Kitty’s last letter is still in his pocket. He read it ten times since this morning, vibrating with anticipation of finally seeing her again. After two years — and hell, if it doesn’t feel longer than that! It feels like Harry’s spent a lifetime without his love… missing her, dreaming of her, haunted by her in the morphine-hazy days while his wound was healing. He imagined her specter in the frigid Bastogne woods, slipping through skeleton-tree silhouettes. He imagined brushing the snow from her eyelashes, dancing with her around the drifts and bomb craters, kissing life back into her frozen hands as they grew blue and lifeless…

Kitty’s been with him in a thousand ways since the last time he saw here. There were her letters, of course, endlessly cheerful and full of rambling stories from home — he saved every one. Then the care packages, knitted mittens and homemade cookies gone stale over the long journey… that picture she had taken in her favorite pearls, just because he asked her for a new one. The articles she sent from home, the Wilkes-Barre Journal mentioning their hometown heroes by name. The letter with a red-lipsticked kiss pressed into the bottom of the paper, Christ Almighty…

He’s been dreaming of Kitty, Kitty, Kitty, for so long… that not seeing her feels like a punch to the gut.

He gave her the right time, didn’t he? The right day? She knows when he’s supposed to be pulling in, he made sure of that —

Another soldier shoulders past, nearly knocking him over. A protest is already on Harry’s lips when he turns, to see the man being embraced by a well-dressed woman. He loops his arms around her waist, swinging her off her feet; she lets out a noise that sounds like a sob, rumbling his uniform as she grips him.

For a minute, he can’t help staring. Something sour and sharp twists in his stomach, a longing he can’t grasp with both hands. When Harry finally tears his gaze away, his throat feels tight.

She said she’d be here…

Slowly, he shuffled forward along the platform. It isn’t crowded, but he searches each face all the same. A telltale flash somewhere, that’s all he’s looking for — a head full of bouncy curls, a smile that could light up the night sky, a sparkling laugh or bell-clear voice calling his name…

He sits down on the bench. He waits.

He’s all alone.

Ten minutes pass, then half an hour. By the time the crowd has thinned down to nothing, the sun is already starting to set on the horizon. Against a backdrop of gold and salmon, shadows stretch longer, and the train station feels lonelier than ever. Harry exhales, long and low, through pursed lips. There’s a paperback in his bag --- he finished it on the train --- and a half-done crossword puzzle he picked up in New York City, but he doesn’t feel like either of them. If he looks away for a second... well, the irrational thought’s caught hold in his head that Kitty will slip by and he’ll miss her.

She’s not coming. That’s the other irrational thought, a thousand times worse than the one before. As the moments tick by, the more likely it seems. Nixon’s teasing words ring in his ears --- if she hasn’t run off with some 4-F by now... that’s not even funny...

He scrubs his palms against his knees, nauseous. Jumping into Normandy wasn’t as bad as this. Even then, he had Kitty’s photo in his pocket, and the reassurance of her kisses as soon as he got back, if he got back. Now, it’s a different uncertainty, a buzzing dread that stirs his nerves into an electric storm. He never worried about coming home hurt, even coming home in a box... because at least then he thought Kitty would be there to welcome him back.

He’s made it back in one piece, and she’s not here.

Something inside feels like it’s breaking. Harry pushes it down, smothering it like the burn of sore muscles and frostbite. Worse pain than this, he reminds himself. You’re a paratrooper. A tough son-of-a-bitch. Paratroopers don’t cry, damn it.

When he rises from the bench, heaving his bag up with him, he doesn’t... even if his eyes sting, and his throat feels too tight to force out a word if he tried.

He could walk home, he considers, making his way to the stairs leading down from the platform. Hitchhike? Maybe some nice Patriot will offer a ride to a guy in uniform. He’s been travelling all day, and he’s rather not heave this bag all the way back to his mother’s house ---

The stairs are steep, several flights descending down in a long stretch to the parking lot below. Bathed in dying gold light, Harry can just make out each step... and a figure, too far away to make out, at the very bottom of the stairs.

She’s wearing a mint green dress, and a hat with a turned up brim. Her hair flies about like it’s escaped from their pins in some struggle --- curls, he realizes, catching the light like liquid gold. She stumbles on the bottom step, obviously in a hurry, and only catches herself with one hand on the railing.

Harry’s looking down. She looks up.

Their eyes meet, and the world explodes into radiant color.

“Oh my God ---” From a distance, he registers his bag dropping to the ground; but Harry’s too caught up to notice, too busy throwing himself forward down the stairs. It’s quicker going down than going up... but she’s moving just as fast, practically bounding up the steps in unsteady kitten heels. (She hates heels, can’t stand them, swears she’ll only wears them for special occasions ---)

They meet each other halfway.

Kitty laughs out loud as she falls into his arms. Immediately, he’s gripping her like a lifeline, like he’s parachuted into the ocean and she’s the only raft keeping him afloat. He presses his face into his hair, inhaling the sweet smell of her, registering her urgent babble from a distance.

“I’m so sorry, the car broke down, I waited at the side of the road for an hour, a nice lady had to stop and show me how to fix it, I was worried for you the whole time ---”

“I knew you’d come,” he breathes.

Kitty pulls back, hands on his shoulders; her eyes are wide, impossible sweet and unbearably earnest. “Of course I would. You silly, silly man.”

He always imagined that their first kiss would be sweet — something tender, like a reward for making it back alive. Instead, he kisses her like a drowning man desperate for air. His hand knots in her tangled curls; she grips his shoulders fiercely, and presses back with all the fire he remembers, what he fell in love with in the first place. She holds him like she’s determined to never let go again. Kitty presses against him, body angling into his own, and Harry grips her like a prayer. Until the sharp tang of salt forces its way into their kiss, he doesn’t realize he’s crying. When he pulls back, breathing hard, tears streak Kitty’s rosy cheeks as well.

“No, no,” he hushes, wiping them hastily with his thumbs before pressing another kiss to his brow. “I’m home… I can’t believe I’m really home.”

“I missed you so much,” she declares, caressing his cheek like she’s trying to memorize the outline of his face. When Harry breaks into a grin, she beams back, managing a shaky giggle.

Forget the ships, forget the trains… seeing that smile is what truly brings him home.

“I’m here,” Harry declares, leaning in to press another kiss to her lips. “I’m here, Kitty… and I’ll never go anywhere again without you.”

#harry welsh #harry/kitty #this was so pure i lOVE #my writing #junojelli

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ehstarwar · 4 years

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under thy own life’s key (5/7)

They were both mostly silent during the meal, reacting to their friends antics only when prompted. Rey could feel Bens' leg against hers under the table and if she weren’t shoveling food into her mouth, she wouldn’t have been able to resist touching him.

Teasing him, more likely.

Ben and Rey engage in a friendly competition to make the day go faster. (And also tease each other until one of them breaks.)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4K

Read on AO3

Notes: home stretch you guys... this was the hardest chapter to write but also my favorite so far, i think? lemme know what chu think babes. thanks for reading! enjoy (･∀･)

Chapter 5: makes heaven drowsy with the harmony

Rey doesn’t feel Ben crawl back into bed that night, but she sure a hell feels him the next morning. He has her in his grasp again, his face buried in her hair and lightly snoring against her neck. His arms hold Rey to his chest, body flush with his and legs shuffled together.

She also feels him.

Hot and aching against the cleft of her ass. It takes a minute to realize exactly what she’s feeling, but when the realization crashes over her, her whole body shivers. Rey does her best to turn towards him, eventually having to lift parts of his body to turn fully over.

“Ben,” She whispers against his neck. Her hands trace the muscles that stretch his shirt in a way that should be illegal. She moves her feet so they rub against his strong calf muscles.

Ben grumbles something, not opening his eyes, but moving his face down to Rey’s and bumping their noses together.

“Good morning,” She whispers against his cheek. Ben doesn’t respond, just shifts his face so their lips press together. The kiss is slow and warm, and makes Rey feel better than any kiss ought to. Ben’s hands come around her again, one to hold onto her back and another to kneed the swells of her ass. They make out like that for a good minute, not caring about morning breath or knotty hair, just enjoying the soft intimacy of each other.

When Reys’ hand trails lower, gently tracing the outline of his morning wood, Bens’ breath hitches.

“Rey, baby,” His voice is a whine, and that just makes Rey move a little faster. She dips her hand beneath his boxers, finding him so hard that she can only imagine how painful it is. Her hand immodestly goes to work, gliding up and down on his hot skin. Their tongues tangle together, neither of them breaking the kiss for even a moment. She feels Ben clench his muscles wherever she touches him, giving her a rightful sense of power.

Ben moves his hand to come up from her ass and rub circles on her nipples that are hard and stiff against her sleep shirt. She moans against his mouth, hand moving even faster now. His thumb rubs at one, the calluses evident even over the fabric of her shirt. She wishes he would rip it off like he did to her underwear, toss it far across the room so she could feel his flesh against her.

Ben begins to mumble something against her lips, a warning, she can tell. She just shoves her tongue down his mouth and rubs his head with a little more determination. Ben’s whole body tenses when he comes, cock straining against her hand, overflowing with sticky white come. Ben is breathing so heavy that Rey works her mouth across his jaw, nipping and licking everywhere let lips land.

His come coats her hand, a little dribbling down onto her thighs and spreading his warmth even further. Rey doesn’t feel the clenching need like she did last night after he came; the need to fall over the edge with him or she was going to die. His orgasm sends a ripple of pleasure though her, but doesn’t claw at her the same way.

When Ben gets his breath under control, his mouth seeks out Rey’s once more. She still holding him, working out the last possible drop of come into her hands, feeling powerful and satisfied and adored, all in one.

“REY! BEN! WAKE UP. YOU’LL MISS BREAKFAST!”

Poe’s loud shrill breaks the silence and Rey can’t help but be reminded of last night.

“I’ll kill him,” Ben says. “I will chop his body into tiny pieces and feed him to fish in the lake. I’ll do it.” Ben says with eyes closed.

“Hux wouldn’t like that very much.”

“Fuck Hux.”

Rey smiles at Ben, watching the way she small stream of sunlight his his hair just right so it looks like a halo. On cue, her stomach rumbles. They both look down at her stomach before looking back up in silent agreement.

“Breakfast, then.” Ben says and Rey nods enthusiastically. “I’ll just… get a towel for you.” Ben gets up and walks into the bathroom quickly.

It dawns on Rey that this is the first time they’ve been sexual in broad daylight, with out the excuse of needing to get off to get to sleep. She doesn’t know why, but it feels like more. Probably because it is more. The made out last night after… everything, and this morning before they even started. Rey tries to think about what this all means, but Ben is back handing her a wet washcloth before her mind can begin to reel.

She takes it with her clean hand, but when she goes to wipe her other hand, something stops her. She looks down, her palm covered in his now-cool come. She glances down to her thighs, seeing the white blob that landed there earlier still against her tan skin. She feels Ben watching her, so she decided to be bold.

Rey licks her palm clean; every finger, every crevice, every joint. She sucks off his come before using the rag to clean her of saliva. Ben is still standing at the end of the bed, eyes dark and posture rigid as he watches her.

“I don’t need breakfast.” His words are a growl and Rey is very, very tempted to agree with him. But another rumble breaks the silence before Rey can say anything, like her body is cockblocking them now.

“I think I do,” She tells him sheepishly.

Breakfast is… an event. To say the least.

When Ben and Rey finally came up stairs to eat with the rest of their friends, the tension between them had not shifted one bit. It’s like there was a looming force around them, making them move together, reach for the same plate, brush hands whenever possible. They were both mostly silent during the meal, reacting to their friends antics only when prompted. Rey could feel Bens leg against hers under the table and if she weren’t shoveling food into her mouth, she wouldn’t have been able to resist touching him.

Teasing him, more likely.

“We have to spend all day outside today, guys. It’s our last day of full sunshine before the storms roll in tonight. If I have to go home without the epic tan I promised my office mates I would have, I’m going to personally send all of you strongly worded messages on insta,” Poe says before popping a blueberry into his mouth.

“How is that on us?” Kaydel asks, laughing at him. Poe sticks his tongue out at her.

“I don’t have an instagram,” Ben says, slicking up one of the wheat protein pancakes he bought for the trip. The only other person who dared to eat them was Phasma.

“Then I’ll send it to you via raven, Benjamin. Can we all just agree to make the most of today? Pretty please, for the blushing bride?” Poe bats his lashes at everyone and Finn throws a pancake at his face.

While a day lounging in the sun sounds wonderful after the incident yesterday, Rey can’t help but feel a little annoyed. She wants to stay inside. In her room. With her roommate. Preferably making each other come as many times as humanly possible. Maybe they’ll talk about what the hell this is. Maybe they’ll just fuck each other boneless. Rey selflessly prefers the latter.

A shared, exasperated look at Ben tells her that he wants the same thing.

The sun is hot. The drink, once filled with ice, are hot. The damn water is hot.

But all that heat is nothing compared to what Rey is feeling inside herself. Ben chose the tiniest, most ridiculously short-board shorts, that hug his taut ass just right, show off his perfectly toned long legs, and ride dangerously short on his adonis belt. Rey wants to fucking melt.

When she’d seen the low blow he pulled when he emerged with that male-equivalent of a thong, she decided pull out the big guns. And by big guns, she means the practically non-existent white bikini that shows off more skin than she’s usually okay with people seeing.

She thinks the look he gave her when he saw the white fabric bunch up in her ass was enough to get her through the rest of the day relatively smoothly. She was wrong.

Ben, it seemed, was also up for a challenge. An actual challenge, that is.

“Volleyball?” Rey questions, looking up at him from her sunbathing spot that she’d subtly been flashing her ass towards him. Kaydel, beside her, pipes up.

“Ugh, yes! I haven’t played volleyball since high school!” Jannah, Zorii and Poe seem all equally enthused. Rey wants to slap the smug grin off Bens face. Or kiss it.

Ben teams up with Zorii, Poe, and Hux (‘the celebrating couple must be on the same team.’) leaving Rey with Jannah, Kaydel, and Phasma. Rose and Finn were ‘taking a bathroom break’ for the last twenty minutes.

Ben attached the net that he’d pulled out of god knows where at Kaydel gives Rey tips on playing.

“Weren’t you like, a super gym rat in college?” Kaydel asks when Rey eyes the ball with a tenuous expression.

“I run. And swim. On occasion, I enjoy a good barre class. But my hand-eye coordination is virtually nonexistent. I tried playing baseball once and literally gave the umpire a concussion,” She admits.

“Well, there is no bats in volleyball, so just… be careful.” Kaydel gives he a goodnatured pat on the shoulder before walking off to practice serving. Rey turns to glare at Ben, who still has that smug look which Rey can’t decide if it's off-putting or unbelievably sexy.

“You know I don’t have hand-eye coordination to save my life.”

“Yes I do.”

“So you suggested that we play volleyball because you want to see me make an utter fool of myself.”

“No. I suggested we play volleyball because I found a volleyball net in one of the closets. And because I want to see what your ass looks like when you jump in that… bathing suit.” Ben’s eyes rake down her body. Rey suddenly sees the… potential this particular game has.

Only when the sun skins below the mountain tops that Rey realizes how long they’ve been playing. Well, how long she and Ben have been playing. Everyone slowly bowed out when they realized this competition was between Ben and Rey and that they each had a single minded victory to beat each other.

“Guys, we need to head in! The bugs will be coming out soon!” Jannah shouts at them. Ben is detracted enough that Reys’ serve to Ben hits him square in the chest before bouncing off into the water. Rey doubles over in laughter, seeing Ben walk towards her with determination.

“I swear… I didn’t mean…” Rey can barely talk though her laughter as she tries to justify herself. Suddenly, Rey is lifted from the sand, feeling two strong arms hoist her up. Ben carries her back towards the house, steely expression on his face.

“I think this means I won?” She taunts, poking him in the chest. She’s rewarded with a low mumble that sounds like ‘no’ and ‘you wish’.

He carries her up to the cabin, only setting her down once there outside the door where her friends laughter drifts towards them.

“Were going to eat dinner,” He says, the same determined expression still on his face. “Then we’re going to bed.”

“Okay,” Rey breaths. He pulls her inside then, practically dragging her to get her food.

“Are, uh, you guys hungry?” Finn asks as Ben load up both of their plates with militant precision.

“Yes,” Ben replies, stoically.

“Lots of volleyball. We’re both starved,” She tosses over her shoulder. Ben sits down at the dining room table and begins shoving food into his mouth like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

Rey joins her friends on the couch, trying to be a bit more casual than Ben. Who was now staring at her from across the room. She could feel his gaze all over.

While Ben finished his monstrous plate in record time, Rey was going at a leisurely pace. Taking time to actually chew her food instead of inhale it. Listening to her friends and laughing at the appropriate places. She could physically feel Ben loose his mind.

A hard screech across the hardwood floors made everyone turn their heads to stare at Ben.

“I’m going to bed,” He announced, eyes fixated on Rey. He stomped around the group and down the stairs, leaving the door open as a clear invitation to her.

“The fuck in up with Solo?” Zorii asked.

“Maybe he got sun poisoning. I mean, his thighs were super white. It’s possible he’s never been exposed to this much direct sunlight in his life.”

“He’s not a vampire, Kaydel. Plus, if he is pale enough to get sick by the sun, don’t you think I’d be sicker?” Hux defending Ben was still the cutest thing to Rey, even if she’d never tell him.

“Well you and Poe spent enough time canoodling in the shade, so I think you’re safe,” Kaydel retorted, causing everyone to laugh. Soon enough, the conversation drifted from Ben’s unusual state and onto other things decidedly less interesting to Rey.

“I’m going to make sure Ben is alright. I’ll… probably be going to bed too.” Rey stands up quickly, suddenly very driven to get down to Ben as fast as humanly possible.

“Tell Benjamin that I have plenty of Aloe if he needs it. And that ice baths don’t actually help,” Hux calls after her. She just gives him a thumbs up and closes the door to the stair case.

By the time Rey makes it to their bedroom door, her heart is pounding in her chest. Would this be the night they talked about whatever the hell is going on between them? Would they pretend like they have every other night that this is normal? Or would Ben sweep her off her feet before she had the door opened all the way and make her forget her own name as he fucked her into the next dimension?

There was only one way to find out.

The door squeaks open and Rey finds Ben frowning down at her suitcase and reorganizing her clothes for her. When he hears her open the door, Ben’s head snaps up and his body is coming towards her within an instant.

His lips find hers in a bruising hold, hands coming up to hold her head as his mouth pushes against hers.

“You… took… too… long.” Each word is punctuated by a kiss, his mouth not straying far from hers even to speak. He’s still shirtless, still in his abysmally tiny board shorts and Rey can feel his warm skin pressed against hers. She grips at his chest, runs her hands down his back and across his arms, anything just to feel him.

Bens’ legs are shoved between hers, pressing his thigh against her as he continues his assault on her mouth.

“You just… gonna stay here… and kiss me all night?” She teases him, voice airy and light. Ben works his mouth down her jaw to her throat, chest, stomach, until he bends down and picks her up by the legs.

“You’ve got to stop picking me up, Ben!” He deposits her on the bed, standing back now, bathed only in the light coming from the bathroom. She can see his erection in his board shorts, so she traces her foot along the length of him. She sees his jaw work and his neck tense and she’s tempted to just stick a hand down her bottoms right there.

“Rey,” He catches her foot, holding it in his warm hand, “I need you to tell me that you want this. Not to sleep. Not because you’re frustrated. But because you want this.” His eyes are filled with an intensity that she’s been exposed to quite a bit in the last few days. Her prior experiences with it do nothing to quell the nervous butterflies she gets.

“I want this, Ben. I want you.”

Ben crouches onto the floor, kissing down her leg. He spreads her apart, mouthing at the juncture between her thighs. He gently takes her swim bottoms off her legs and tosses them away, before delving into her pussy. She’s wet, embarrassingly so, but Ben doesn’t seem to mind. His mouth moves against her, pressing kisses against her folds and on her clit. She tangles her hand into his hair, same as last night, as his tongue licks strips up and down.

She’s mewling for him, bucking her hips until his palm comes around to hold her pelvis down. She clutches his hand where it rest on her skin, and his thumb rubs little circles into her. Her orgasm comes much quicker this time, probably a result of being kept on edge for the entire day. She moans his name as her body vibrates with the intensity, legs crushing his head in the process. If Ben minds, he doesn’t mention it.

He soothes her, pressing light kisses up her cunt, nuzzling the brown thatch of hair between her legs, teasing his tongue up her stomach to come circle her nipples. Somehow, Rey had managed to pull off her bikini top (not that there was much to pull), so she was laid gloriously bare before him.

When her breathing returns to normal, Ben speaks again.

“Every time you’ve come, you fall asleep right after. I don’t intend on letting you do that tonight.” His voice is deep and menacing and Rey thinks she could come just from the vibrations it makes against her skin.

“What do you plan on doing about that, Solo?” She taunts.

Suddenly, Rey is being hauled further back on the bed, with Ben coming to lay over her. His mouth is sucking at the skin of her neck, no doubt leaving enormous hickey’s that she’ll have to figure out how to cover tomorrow.

But that’s Tomorrow Reys’ problem.

Her hand trails down his torso, feeling his shorts are still on, but his cock crying desperately to get out. When Ben feels her hand on him, he quickly sheds the material, coming right back down to kiss Rey again. She tugs him a little, spreading the precome over his cock to lube him up. Not that he needs it, with the way Rey is dripping.

“I plan on fucking you so well that you forget what sleep is,” He murmurs against her skin. “That you’ll never be able to sleep again without dreaming of my cock. Of me making you come so hard you forget where we are.”

Rey can only mewl at his words, clawing at him and trying to line him up with her. Ben partially obliges, moving his hips between hers, rubbing the thick head of his cock up and down her pussy. Rey tries to move her hips to force him in her, but Ben is in control at the moment.

“Please, Ben, please. I need this… I need you, please…”

He pushes into her slowly, like he’s savoring every moment her tight, wet heat envelopes him. He’s big in her hand but somehow feels even larger inside of her. It’s not painful, he prepped her too well for that, but fulfilling in a way that makes her toes curl. Like she was made for this exact moment for Ben to push into her. When he’s fully seated inside of her, Ben rest his forehead against hers.

“Rey… fuck. You’re so fuckin… fuck, Rey. You’re prefect. Made for me. Just fucking perfect.” Ben is still inside of her. She’s not sure if its for her to adjust, or for him to control himself. Rey peppers kisses along his jaw, watching his eyes clenched shut and breath through gritted teeth.

“So good, Ben. You’re so good. You feel perfect too, baby. Just for me.” She hope her words calm him, make it easier for him, but the growl that originates from somewhere deep within his bones makes her think otherwise.

“I just need… a minute. I wanna make this good for you. Wanna make this last.” His lips are against her neck now, breathing hot breath onto her with every word. “Want to fucking live inside of you, baby.”

It’s another minute before Ben can move. Rey just cards her fingers through his hair, marveling at how his black locks can remain so silky even after a full day of sweat. His hand comes up to her jaw, and cups her face so that he can kiss her deeply, tongue going so far down her throat she thinks she might swallow it.

His hips begin moving at a snails pace; sharp, shallow thrust that make her breath hitch all the same. He forces her thighs even further apart so that he can get deeper within her, nearly bumping her cervix.

Ben’s thrust get more sure, move faster and harder. His cock brushes against a bundle of nerves that makes Rey see stars behind her eyes. It doesn’t matter if she’s just come a few minutes ago; she’s going to come again and soon.

“You gonna come around my cock, baby? You gonna come for me?” Ben asks between kisses. Rey just seeks out his mouth more, wanting every part of her to be connect with him as much as possible.

Ben sticks a hand by where their bodies meet, rubbing at her over-sensitive, over-stimulated clit, until Rey is a babbling mess. She feels hot tears of desire prick at her eyes as her hand clutches Ben’s head down to hers.

“‘m gonna come, Ben. Please, I need to come,” She whimpers against him. Ben grunts something unintelligible against her lips, but feels his whole body begin to tense up.

“Gonna come to, Rey. Gonna come in your perfect little cunt. You want that, you want me to fill you up?” Yes, yes, yes. Rey is beyond words at this point so she hopes the sloppy nodding of her head will give him the answer she’s so desperate to convey.

When Ben’s thumb catches her clit and his cock brushes against that bundle of nerves inside of her, Rey looses her mind. She sees stars and feels warmth like she’s never known and hears the most beautiful sound in the world. Ben, mumbling her name as he comes and comes. His come feels so good inside of her, a warmth that she never knew she needed until right now. His body is tense as he releases, pressing their hips flush together so hard that she thinks they may never part. She’s okay with that.

Ben sags against her, nearly crushing her with his impressive weight, but Rey loves it. She’ll hold him against her forever if he’ll let her.

Ben moves his head to kiss her again, softer this time. None of the hurried rush they’d experienced before. He’s still firmly inside of her, keeping his come warm and thick in her. She’s boneless and breathless and has never felt this high on ecstasy in her life.

Ben’s lips break away from hers and he rest his forehead on hers, looking down at her with so much emotion Rey is not mentally prepared to decipher.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

“I meant it. Everything I said.”

“Me too.”

They’re silent for a minute, content with just staring at each other. Ben seems to realize that Rey is essentially trapped under him, so he pushes himself up, slowly pulling out of her. The rush of fluids that Rey feels escape her makes the flush in her cheeks deepen. Ben is staring between them now, watching their combined come trickle out of her.

“I probably should’ve asked this before but…” His eyes slowly ascend to hers, “do you take birth control?”

“No,” She shakes her head. Something flashes across Ben’s face that is not the fear she anticipated. “I’m on the shot.”

“Oh.” He looks… disappointed? Maybe not quite sad, but there’s a longing in his gaze that Rey isn’t used to, but thrills her all the same.

“That was a very good way to keep me from falling asleep,” She says, not nearly prepared to talk about that subject. She doesn’t even know where they stand.

“Is that your way of telling me you’re ready to actually go to bed now?” Ben’s sheepish demeanor returns and Rey is thankful that he’s on the same page as her.

“Not if you can think of something even better to keep me awake.”

Bens’ gaze darkens once more, and Rey knows that they’re in for a long night.

#so proud of them!#they made this decision all on their own and not because im an omnipotent being that controls every decision they make in this alt universe #reylo #ben solo #kylo ren #rey #ben solo x rey #kylo ren x rey #star wars #sw #fan fiction #my work #utolk #ao3 #adam driver #daisy ridley

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sinceileftyoublog · 5 years

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Weekend Picks: 2/21-2/23

Big Head Todd and the Monsters

BY JORDAN MAINZER

There were no live picks for yesterday, but plenty for the weekend!

2/21: Objekt, Smartbar

Here’s what we wrote about Objekt’s Cocoon Crush when we named it our #6 album of 2018:

“An artist solidly known for his bold exploration of techno, Objekt now takes a plunge into a new kind of ethereal beauty on Cocoon Crush. A foray into ambient music, Objekt subverts a lot of what we have come to expect from him. The line between digital and analog is smeared. Tracks are ungrounded, punctuated still by percussion and synthesizers, but in patterns and textures that materialize in mysterious ways. And just as they appear, they stutter and morph in ways unexpected to the listener. The cold machinations of the dancefloor are still present; they are just stretched and masked in exciting and rewarding ways.”

Darwin and Flower Flood open.

2/21: Knuckle Puck, Beat Kitchen

We previewed Knuckle Puck’s set at Durty Nellie’s two years ago:

“Covering last year’s Riot Fest, I found Knuckle Puck the worst set of the festival, though I did remark that the band’s new, unreleased material had the crowd’s attention as much as their released material. As it turns out, the album versions of the songs are pretty good. Shapeshifter, released about a month later in October, was exemplary of what Knuckle Puck do best–write catchy songs with powerful melodies and hooks, enough to showcase the band’s more-than-capable instrumental prowess while avoiding the try-hard singing that plagues so many of today’s emo bands.”

Cleveland power poppers Heart Attack Man and Wilkes Barre hardcore band One Step Closer open.

Objekt; Photo by Kasia Zacharko

2/21: James McMurtry, Old Town School of Folk Music

We previewed James McMurtry’s show at FitzGerald’s two years ago:

“James McMurtry plays tonight as part of the 37th Annual American Music Festival at Fitzgerald’s, still touring strong off of Complicated Game (one of our favorite albums of 2015) like he was when it first came out. When we caught up with him last November, he said of new songs, 'I’ve jotted them down on my phone as I’ve gone along. That whole record was written on an iPhone3. Unfortunately, I dropped that phone, I don’t have the cool Notes app anymore.' Well, either he’s got a new phone or doesn’t need one, because late last year, he released 'State of the Union', a trademark jab at fascism and racism. It might not be as succinct as him telling us 'There never been a good Nazi a day on this earth dead or alive,' but at least there’s hope for more new material.”

2/21: Raphael Saadiq & Jamila Woods, Vic Theatre

Last year, Raphael Saadiq released his first album in 8 years (since the great Stone Rollin’). Jimmy Lee is named after, inspired by, and partially about his brother who died of heroin overdose after contracting HIV many years ago. As such, whether singing or inhabiting the character of his brother, Saadiq is at times uncharacteristically somber. He’s at the other end of a barrel of a gun on “Sinners Prayer”, reflecting on his wrongs, wondering whether it’s too late: “When a sinner is praying, God, will you hear it?” He wears a heavy burden on the funky, stomping “Something Keeps Calling Me”, the song’s wailing guitar solo in the bridge a mirror to his emotions. Saadiq calls out society, too, just as much as himself. “The people are mad,” he sings on “This World is Drunk”. The one-two punch of anti-mass incarceration jams “Rikers Island” and “Rikers Island Redux” presents the issue as simply as it should be put: “Too many n***as in Rikers Island / Why must it be / Set them free.” The former expresses its anger with upbeat piano and a simple refrain, the latter with spoken word over gentle guitar strums.

Best, though, are the reflections of grace that rise above the despair. On “I’m Feeling Love”, over a slower, more warbling funk, Saadiq, singing as his brother, is thankful for the little that he has. And on the skittering, rolling “Glory To The Veins”, he again distills his brother’s death to what matters: “I lost a brother to AIDS / Still, he laughed every day.” We’re lucky that as he gets older, reflecting on his life, and playing live reflecting on his career in Tony! Toni! Toné! and all the legendary artists like D’Angelo and Solange that he’s produced, Saadiq is willing to impart his wisdom.

Jamila Woods’ LEGACY! LEGACY! was one of our favorite albums of last year:

“Yes, Jamila Woods’ stunning LEGACY! LEGACY! is a tribute to important artists of color. What makes it stand out among other tributes, however, is the remarkable way Woods is able to present how each figure has guided her. Take opener 'BETTY', about funk artist Betty Davis, a woman married to a far more famous jazz trumpeter who gets his own song later on. Woods explores the gender and power dynamic in the relationship and uses it to make a personal and universal plea: 'Let me be, I’m trying to fly.' Fly, she does. On 'ZORA', over a hip hop beat, Woods succinctly declares in an all-time line, 'My weaponry is my energy', the drive and desire the catalyst in the noble goal to make her mark on the world as a black woman as opposed to while being a black woman. In various interviews surrounding the album release, Woods spoke about being inspired by black artists who perform and make art truly for themselves independent and often in spite of the race of the end consumers. 'Motherfuckers won’t shut up,' beings 'MUDDY', referencing Muddy Waters adoption of electric guitar because white audiences would talk over his sets; 'Shut up, motherfucker,' she sings inversely on 'MILES', 'I don’t take requests.' But the percussive, jazzy 'EARTHA' best encapsulates her aims of self-love and ultimate pride. 'I used to be afraid of myself,' Woods admits before stating, 'I don’t wanna compromise.' Ultimately, the refrain of, 'Who’s gonna share my love for me with me?' is the mindset by which Woods approaches relationships throughout the record and then life itself. You can be a part of it, but she comes first.”

DJ Duggz also opens.

2/21: The Wailers, SPACE

We previewed The Wailers’ set at Old Town School of Folk Music last year:

“Bob Marley might not be around, but his original band, containing many of the original members and their children, continues to play his songs. Seeing them in a venue as small as this is rare.”

Tonight at SPACE--an even smaller venue--they play two shows, an early and late one.

Joe Henry

2/22: Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Vic Theatre

We previewed Big Head Todd & The Monsters’ show at the Vic Theatre two years ago:

“The Colorado jam band that saw mainstream success in the 90′s is touring fresh off of last year’s heavy New World Arisin’. In 2016, as Big Head Blues Club (the band’s project with a wide array of blues legends like Cedric Burnside and Charlie Musselwhite), they released Way Down Inside. But for the full potential of Big Head Todd and the Monsters, go a few years back and try 2014′s Black Beehive, a rawer, more diverse blues record than you’d expect from the band who recorded 'Bittersweet'. What’s for sure is that live, they’ll lean heavily on the new material while not forgoing their more beloved classics.”

They haven’t released a new album since then but have released a new song every month as part of a series. They should play some of these live, including gospel piano ballad “Hard Times Come No More” and the funky, rollicking “Train of Storms”.

Nashville band Los Colognes open.

2/22: Todd Barry, Thalia Hall

We previewed Todd Barry’s sets at SPACE two years ago:

“So, this isn’t exactly music, but deadpan comedian Todd Barry is performing 2 stand-up sets in one night at SPACE. Commemorating his 30 years of being a comedian, he’s going on another crowd work-only tour like the one documented in his 2014 special Todd Barry: The Crowd Work Tour. From watching that and his most recent Netflix special Spicy Honey, Barry’s dry observational humor is effortlessly tailored to specific crowds and cities, making this one of the must-see comedy events of the year.”

Even if tonight isn’t crowd work-only, he should do some of his specialty.

Chicago-based stand-up comic Chelsea Hood opens.

Hot Snakes

2/22: Joe Henry, Old Town School of Folk Music

Since we last saw Joe Henry five years ago, he’s done quite a bit of production work and released two albums, 2017′s Thrum, and last year’s The Gospel According to Water. In between the two, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer; considering that, the latter takes on weight. It’s, first and foremost, raw, from the guitar playing on “Famine Walk” to the title track. But Gospel sports moments of beauty, too, as on the woodwind of “Mule” and rich vocal harmonies of “In Time For Tomorrow” and “The Fact of Love”.

Americana duo Birds of Chicago open.

Pissed Jeans; Photo by Ebru Yildiz

2/22: Tim and Eric, Chicago Theatre

Who knows what Tim and Eric will bring to their Chicago stop of their Mandatory Attendance tour, other than their purported "brand new spoofs, goofs and insanity” and “special surprises.” The last time I saw them, Dr. Steve Brule showed up and almost married Jan Skylar!

2/22: Hot Snakes, Pissed Jeans, & HIDE, Empty Bottle

Music Frozen Dancing is upon us again, with suggested donations benefiting the Chicago Coalition for the Homeless! Go and donate!

We last listened to Hot Snakes from the medical tent at September’s Riot Fest. Since then, they’ve released the first two of four seasonal 7-inch singles leading up to the next LP: the burner “Checkmate” and wonderfully plodding laziness anthem “I Shall Be Free”. (The latter’s 7-inch has “A Place in the Sun” as an exclusive.)

Hot Snakes also play Sunday night at the Bottle with an opening set from post punk band Pink Avalanche.

Allentown hardcore band Pissed Jeans haven’t released anything since 2017′s Why Love Now, but they’re thankfully back to warm your pants before Hot Snakes. Maybe they’ll have some new songs to play?

Local industrial duo HIDE (artist Heather Gabel and percussionist Seth Sher) released their second album last year, the raw, disgusting Hell is Here. The drum programming and screaming is just as cringingly visceral as the recorded sounds of vomit hitting a toilet that end opening track “Chainsaw”.

Synth band Crash Course in Science, arty The Hecks, and local punk band Hitter also open.

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fuzzydemolitionsquad · 5 years

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The Tractor

Part 1

A rusty GNK droid plodded across the farmstead’s dirt yard, its pace much slower than its maker had programmed it to be.

It was morning. The sun had just peeked over the humped ridges of evergreen trees in the distance. The air was already beginning to warm and the humidity was high.

The GNK tried to ignore the condensation building on its circuit boards. It made a deep gonking groan and tilted its boxy body toward the sky. How dreary it was to waddle around a farm, looking for something in need of power.

Why couldn’t I have been a spaceship, a sleek X-wing, or a roaring TIE? The sky beckoned. The GNK moaned sadly .

Its dream suddenly ceased to be when a circuit in its electronic brain crackled. Sense of duty restored, the GNK marched toward a shed containing the chooken brooder. There, behind a wall of woven wire, a passel of fuzzy, powder-blue chicks snuggled together. The cord to their heater box had come loose, pulled out by a pesky varmint who chewed it to a fray . The GNK plugged a pronged service arm into the box and powered down to fifty-percent so that it could rest.

And dream.

Pa Trodd stepped out of the farmhouse’s door and stood on the porch drinking his morning caf. He snapped his suspenders and looked at the large and formidable anooba laying upside down on her back and staring back at him.

“ Whadda yew say ol’ Gracie. . . wanna hep me till that quarter acre fer ma’s garden?”

Gracie’s tail thumped the porch’s wood planking so hard it raised a ferocious cloud of dust. The anooba stood up and stretched and trotted over to where pa was standing.

“Dat’s my girl.” The lasat thumped her side and scratched her ears.”When we done ahl gives ya a nice big soup bone anna plate a kalgow jowls for breakfast. Howzzat sound?”

The anooba's brushy black and tan mane quivered. Pa stepped off the porch, slapped his thigh and whistled. Gracie galloped to his side, her tongue lolling and her great jaws clacking. She gently took his wrist into her mouth and followed him to the barn where the old tractor sat.

Zeb Orrelios opened his eyes, stared up at the ceiling and smiled. He was back home.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love the barracks at the academy–on the contrary–all of his best mates were there. He chuckled as he thought of serious Geezer who–didn’t look like it– but had connections to the owners of every dive cantina and strip parlor in the Capitol.

Zeb checked his chrono on the nightstand and jumped out of bed. The delicious aroma of bacon and maize-bread, fried eggs and beans tugged at his nostrils like a farmer leading a hammerhead bull by the nose-ring. Being away on leave meant ma’s home cooking and lots of it. It wasn’t uncommon for Zeb to put on fifteen or twenty pounds during his stays with his family. Of course, it was all converted to muscle. Zeb thought of the academy. If it was one thing he didn’t like there, it was Private Rrazchow’s breakfast special, a plate of jellied meat chunks floating in greasy gravy and served on a couple pieces of stone-dry bread. Zeb and his mates affectionately referred to the entree as ‘dung on a raft.’

Zeb looked into the full length mirror and couldn’t help but smile. His stripes were growing a deeper purple, a nice contrast to the pale lavender of his base coat. His beard was darker too, and a lot thicker than it was the last time he was home.

“Looking good.” He pointed into the mirror with both index fingers and made a clicking sound with his tongue. Pulling on a pair of skivvies he grabbed his scrub brush and towel and headed to the wash room to pump water into the round wooden tub he had taken baths in when he was a child. It seemed so big back then, a veritable ocean. Now he couldn’t even stretch out his legs.

Ma Trodd served up plates of bacon, beans and bread then padded back to the stove to pick up a huge iron skillet full of sputtering eggs. She went around the table, neatly plopping two eggs on every plate.

Jax rolled his eyes and slammed his elbows down on the table. “Aww ma, yew know I like mah aigs on m’ beans! Now there’s yolk all over the maize-bread!”

“Land-a-muddlin’ Jax!” Ma put her furry hand on her hip. “Yew done act like I kilt yer best friend. They’s a lot worse thangs happ’nin in thee universe then aigs a’leakin’ on bread!”

“I’m sorry ma. Didn’t mean t’ get yew riled.”

“She’s not riled.” Sister Sal said, cutting a dainty slice of egg with the side of her fork. “She’s worried. Mizz Yogg was telling her about the Coruscant emperor. He’s got six more planets under his belt.”

Brother Muss wrinkled his snubby nose. “Huh? Whadda yew mean, sis?”

“He stole them. Not fair and not square.”

“How do you steal a planet?”

“With a lot of guns.” Puggles grunted through a mouthful of breakfast. Egg yolk glistened in his shaggy beard.

Sally nodded her head. “It’s true. Unfortunately.”

Ma’s yellow eyes flashed with fear. “ Some people is fightin’ back. Mercy. There might be another Clone Wars round thee corner.”

“Ain’t no Jedi left t’ fight um.” Brother Jimbo said, subdued, a sweating beer can held to his forehead. He hadn’t touched his breakfast. The hangover he was fighting demanded some hair-of the bantha first.

Sister Shoog changed the subject. “ I shore wish cuzzin Zeb could stay longer. He’s only got two more days, and he promised to take me to the fair.”

“Cuzzin Zeb never breaks his promises.” Said Muss.

“CuZzIn ZeB NEEEEEVER BreAKs his PrOmiSes. . . Puggles said in a wheedly, exaggerated voice, his face puckered like a dried korbapple.

“Did I hear my name?” Zeb said from the foot of the staircase. He hopped down and entered the kitchen.

Ma beamed. “ Bout’ time yew got up! Sit at the table. I’ll git yer vittles ready. Did you sleep well?”

“I slept like Firuz in his tomb.” Zeb said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of his breakfast. Maybe tomorrow ma would make her special spawffles and needle tree syrup. He was about to tuck his napkin into the front of his shirt when-

“Hey, did you all hear something?”

“ Like what?”

Like bellowing. Sounds like the Lunx’s bull got out of his pen again.”

There was a stamping of feet out on the porch. Older sister Hallie opened the front door and hurried inside. She set her basket of herbs on the table and started to pour herself a cup of caf.

“ Pa’s out in the field and he’s cussin’ up a dust storm. I mean, worse then usual.”

“ Ma clutched her apron. “Goodness child! D’yuh think he’s a’right?”

“I asked him, but he jus’ kept on a hollerin’ and carrying on. I think the tractor musta broke down or sumthin’.”

“Great an’ benev-lent Bearded One.” Ma groaned as she served Zeb his breakfast. “I’m gonna hear ‘bout this til thee end a’ days…Jimbo, Jax, go see what’s goin’ on, woudja dears?”

Jimbo looked up. His yellow-orange eyes were rimmed with red. “ Ma! I jus found out mah girl is courtin’ another he-male! I cain’t take pa’s bellyachin’ right now. I’m too e-moshan-lee com-pree-mized!”

Shoog rolled her eyes.

Ma looked at Jax, who panicked.

“I’m late for mah sparrin’ practice!” The blotch-coated lasat rose from his chair and threw his napkin on his plate.

“Now where’s mah boxin’ gloves at?” Jax ran from the kitchen.

Zeb forked his food between two pieces of maize-bread, making a giant to-go sandwich. He scooted his chair back and grabbed Puggles by his scrawny wrist.

“Let’s go help pa!”

“Help Pa? Is yew crazy? He’ll tie me into a Mon Calamari sailor knot fer intrudin’ on his bad mood!”

“ Not if we solve his problem.”

Pa raged. He pounded on the tractor’s hood and stamped the turf beneath his feet, turning it into a large patch of dark dirt. Gracie sat on her makeshift perch next to the tractor’s seat, grinning and panting, her tongue darting in and out of her mouth. Every time a fist came close she attempted to give it a sloppy kiss.

“ WHAT IN CONSARN-A-SHUN IZ WRONG WID YEW, YEH BLASTED CONTRAPTION!!!???”

“TAR-BUBBLIN’ LAZYBUMP SONNAVA JUGHEADED PLEASURE DROID!!!”

“ POCKMARKED’ PISSENGINE!!

“CHEAP PIECE A’ RUSTED RUIN!!”

“DROIDSON BATTERYDOOKER!!!”

“Do you kiss ma with that mouth?”

Rufus Trodd whirled around. He saw his beloved nephew standing there, smiling, his demeanor as calm as a boodle bug floating on the surface of a still pond.

“She would faint if she heard you cursing like that.”

Pa’s giant mitt batted at the air. “ Aww. Not now Zebidiah. I’m inna awful gaumy stew.”

Puggles stepped out from behind his brave younger cousin.

Looky here pa, I brang yeh a nice cold one! I thanked yew could use it.”

The mammoth lasat grabbed the offered six pack of beer, cracked each can open with machine-like speed and poured six streams of golden brew into his cavernous mouth. He wiped the stray foam from his mane and belched.

“Thanks son. Remind me not t’ call yew an ijit next time yew piss me off.”

Zeb approached the tractor. He ran his hands over three, still-warm engine cowls and sniffed the turbines and jet ports. “What’s going on with her?”

“She were running fine, then all of a sudden, she starts a’shaking and a sputterin’. Den the jets got all quiet-like. How did I blow up three engines? That tiller I’m towin' behind her don’t weigh that much. Hells, I towed a big ol’ howler-barr to thee taxidermist with dis here tractor. ”

Zeb scratched his head. “Was there any smoke?”

Pa thrust out his thick lower lip and tapped one of his fangs. “Now thet I think about it. . . not a hole lot. Jus’ a little puffin’ out from under thee hood.”

“Ah-ha. Pop the hood Puggles.”

The little lasat obeyed and the tractor’s boxy mouth opened with a ‘TUMP’ Zeb raised the hood, looked inside and saw the problem immediately.

“It’s not the engines, pa. It’s your injector cylinder. Are you running super-lean Kashyyk oil in her?”

“Shore as dust I am!”

“Well, it must be clogged with dirt. The guy you bought this from should have changed it before he sold it.”

Pa snorted. “Figures.”

Zeb changed the subject. He patted the old Agri-Hover. You know, inside, these tractors are almost identical to the inside of the tanks in the royal army. They really ARE well made. Let’s pull the injector and Puggles and I will go into town and get a new one.”

Pa looked resigned to his fate of plowing the field by himself. Why did he sell that good team of muley-tauns? They weren’t that long in the tooth.

“Payday’s not fer six more days. I don’ wanna ask ma t’ dip into her savings. She ain’t got that much anyway.”

Zeb grabbed Puggles by the ear and tugged him away’t so pa couldn’t hear.

“I have some extra pay this cycle.” He whispered.

“Must be nice.” Puggles' gold eyes flashed orange. “I cain’t even afford a lil’ teeny-eeny far-cracker or a pack a smokes.”

Zeb crossed his striped arms. “First of all, you shouldn’t be smoking. It’s bad for you. Second, you’re a liar. I know for a fact Hallie gave you credits for cleaning her shed. You put them in your. . . ahem, ‘detonite fund account.’”

The little lasat was incensed. He balled his bony fists and put them up, taking a fighting stance.

“I otta whup the green right outtta yer eyes yuh sucklin’-cub!! Of all thee indig-nitities! Called a larr by m’ little cuzzin!!!! Y’ain’t got the manners of that bitch anoobie over there! Come on, git yer dukes up!”

Zeb rolled his eyes and bit his lip. “ Not again.”

The young lasat was turning out to be a rather large and honorable soldier. One befitting of admiration and praise. How much longer was he going to allow his belligerent cousin to talk to him this way? Zeb sighed. A lasat couldn’t choose his family or the members within, but if he could have chosen, he would have picked what he already had, the hard-working and sometimes crude, spiritual, salt-of -Lasan Trodds.

“Alright you little a-hole. I’m sorry I called you a liar. Do you have any creds you can spare? Any at all?”

Puggles put his fists down. He retrieved a toothpick from his pocket and wedged it between his crooked incisors. He made a sucking sound with his teeth.

“Maybe. . .”

#Zeb Orrilios #star wars fanfic #rebels themed I guess #Puggles trodd #no he ain't dead

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klbmsw · 5 years

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Impeachment:

It’s only been 1 bloody day and I’m already tired of the coverage on trump’s impeachment inquiry. Do I think trump deserves to be impeached? Hell Yes. After reading the entire Mueller Report, I KNEW trump deserved to be impeached and thrown out of office.

A week after the Mueller Report comes out and trump perceives he’s gotten away with all his incredibly stupid obstruction attempts to stymy the investigation, to cover up his actions, and pervert justice, what does trump do?

He puts a hold on the aid package for Ukraine in their fight against Russia (almost 400 million in aid!) and won’t allow it to be released despite Congress’ authorizing its disbursement and confounding the Pentagon as Ukraine depends on this aid to help them withstand Russia’s attempt to annex more regions of their sovereign country (Crimea has already been annexed by Russia and three more regions surrounding Crimea are under Russian aggression to be annexed).

Then trump phones Ukraine’s president and asks for a favor. He wants Ukraine to dig up dirt on Joe Biden and his son Hunter Biden to help trump win election in 2020 like Russia helped him win in 2016.

After this phone call, a CIA operative filed a whistleblower complaint that trump was abusing his power as president and breaking the law by asking a foreign country help dig up dirt on trump’s opponent in 2020 presidential election.

This? Is so obviously breaking the law. It’s extortion and it’s an act of treason enlisting a foreign country’s help in attacking a US citizen for trump’s political gain.

In doing this trump has broken the law (several times) and committed an act of treason.

He’s also enlisted the help of his personal lawyer (Giuliani) who has been given top secret information that he is not cleared for, nor allowed to have access to, as he is NOT a government employee, not a civil servant, nor a former military employee or veteran, but a private citizen (this violates several laws too).

And he’s roped in attorney general Barr to help Ukraine dig up dirt on a private US citizen who also happens to be his political opponent. This again breaks several laws.

My head is about to implode. I’ve had a migraine off and on for the last 72 hours.

I think that trump, barr, and giuliani, at a minimum deserve to be prosecuted and if found to be guilty, sentenced to prison. If found guilty of treason, the punishment via our constitution says, is death.

The last people to be found guilty of treason and put to death via electric chair were Julius and Ethel Rosenberg.

Right now I and the country are suffering from trump fatigue because literally, the unending drama of trump’s tenure as president has had ZERO calm, ZERO normalcy, and ZERO détente. There’s no break to catch your breath, regroup, and gird your loins. It’s constantly constant. The only time you can get any sigh of relief is when the dumbass-in-chief flies to go golfing on the taxpayer's dollars. I wish he’d play MORE golf and took MORE vacations.

It’s been scandal, shock, humiliation on the world stage, embarrassment, dumbfounding stupidity, revolving door to unfilled positions and empty seats, with scandal, corruption, self-profiteering, self-enrichment, self-dealing, quid-pro-quo, corruption, obstruction, obfuscation, sleight of hand, diversion, etc.etc.etc.

I may not have agreed much with Obama’s policies, but dear god I miss the man and his presidency. I never worried he’d spill top-secret information to the bloody Russians!

I didn’t have to worry he’d shove the reputation of the US into the gutter, or that he’d offend our allies, or offer comfort to our enemies, or would undermine our intelligence agencies, or put our undercover operatives in mortal danger.

I didn’t have to worry he would support white supremacists, encourage violence against his political foes, or would admire dictators, thugs, and demagogues.

I didn’t have to worry because Obama is an intelligent, grown-up MAN...trump? Is a toddler throwing daily temper tantrums who has continuous shit storms of his own making.

We are sick and tired of trump...and this is just the beginning......

Naomi Woods

🥺🥺🥺🤯🤯🤯🥴🥴🥴🤕🤕🤕🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮😖😖😖😵😵😵😵😵

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thecomicsnexus · 5 years

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ACTION COMICS #537 - 541 NOVEMBER 1982 - MARCH 1983 BY MIKE W. BARR, MARV WOLFMAN, GIL KANE, IRV NOVICK, BOB ROZAKIS, ALEX SAVIUK, JOHN CALNAN, GENE D’ANGELO, JOE GIELLA, TOM ZIUKO, FRANK MCLAUGHLIN, TATJANA WOOD AND DAN ADKINS

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC DATABASE)

Superman takes Lois to her apartment and tells her how he was split by Lord Satanis and Syrene into two halves, one of which is stuck in the past. Right now he lacks his invulnerability and heat vision.

Meanwhile, a dock worker steals a machine component.

After heading out of Lois' place Superman attempts to streak into the time-barrier, but he is unable to without his invulnerability and with his speed halved. Superman heads towards his Fortress of Solitude and tries to start a Time Bubble, but it shatters. Then a vision of Satanis appears and warns he's shut down to the past every door to the past Superman knows about. Superman wonders how he can fight back.

Meanwhile, his other self remains trapped in the past. Syrene has dragged him to her infinite castle and gets ready to filter the Runestone of Merlin's magical energy through Superman's invulnerable body and into her. Such an action would kill Superman but Syrene isn't concerned about it. Superman tries to stall for time but she guesses his intent and begins the process.

The morning after his failed attempts on time-travel, present-day Clark Kent heads towards the Daily Planet and finds out the Mole has gotten the word out regarding his invulnerability's loss. Clark gets worried about his enemies mass-attacking him.

Somewhere else, Jackson Hammersmith has read the news and is putting the finishing touches on his gear. Previously he intended to leave the town and start out his criminal career elsewhere, but now he thinks he'll make a name for himself by killing Superman.

Meanwhile, Clark is working in his office. Lois wants to have a private conversation with him, but Clark heads off when when he hears Perry White shouting. Clark finds out some crook who calls himself Jackhammer wanted the Daily Planet to print his challenge to Superman. Perry has no intention of publishing an ad bought with stolen money, but he wants Clark to write the story so Superman finds out.

That night, Jackhammer draws Superman's attention by wrecking a train track. Superman engages him, but Jackhammer throws the first punch. Superman gets nearly knocked out, but he has no time to recover due to an incoming train. Superman prevents it from derailing thanks to a precise use of his super-breath, but he collapses on the train roof afterwards, feeling injured and exhausted.

Bruised and half-conscious, Superman makes it to Jimmy Olsen and asks his friend to use his disguise skills to help him hide his bruises.

The next day, no one of his co-workers seems to notice Clark's injuries, although Lois Lane takes a hold of him to discuss the news of Superman's defeat at Jackhammer's hands and give him self-help books. When Clark brushes off her concerns and insists he likes himself just fine, Lois storms out.

For the next nights, Superman keeps a low profile and uses his other skills to bust robberies from a distance as his wounds heal. At the same time, Jackhammer exploits his newfound fame to become the chief enforcer of every crime boss in Metropolis and goes on a crime spree.

After one week goes by without a Superman sighting, the Daily Planet staff starts wondering what has happened to Superman. At night, Clark Kent privately admits to himself he is afraid. Thinking of his parents, Clark remembers Pa Kent saying facing up your fears and beats them is the measure of a man. Clark suits up and heads out.

Later, Jackhammer and his crooks attempt to rob a theater. Suddenly, Superman freezes their weapons and baits Jackhammer out of the place. Superman fights hard, but Jackhammer's hydraulic punches and armor give him an edge. Nonetheless, when a crowd sees Superman being beaten they attack Jackhammer to save Superman. Jackhammer turns around to shout he'll come after them as soon as he kills Superman. His distraction gives Superman an opening and he knocks Jackhammer out by punching his unprotected lower face.

Superman receives the multitude's congratulations, but he insists he's the one who is grateful. Because they fought their fears and faced a danger, they gave him one chance to win.

Superman tries to go back to the past via the Atom's Time Pool, but he discovers Satanis has also blocked that access. He also tries the Flash's Cosmic Treadmill to not avail.

In the past, the other Superman is still Syrene's prisoner. Syrene starts to filter the Runestone of Merlin's energies through his body and in hers when she notices her husband Satanis storming her castle. Satanis and Syrene begin their magic duel as the latter absorbs the gem's magic. Satanis manages to blow up a hole in her castle's walls and strides in.

In the present, Superman makes it to the Daily Planet, changes clothes and walks in, but he has barely greeted his friends when he passes out. Lois Lane calls the doctor in the staff and doctor Judy Prusha examines Clark Kent before declaring him dead.

In the past, Syrene has just absorbed the sum of the Runestone's powers, killing Superman in the process. She sets to kill Satanis in revenge for her father's death. Feeling the need to show off her powers before killing him painfully, Syrene shatters a faraway planet and tosses the fragments at her husband. Satanis swiftly leaps inside Superman's inert body, which shields him from the avalanche of meteorites. Now possessing Superman's powers as well as his own magic, Satanis is ready to fight his wife.

In the present, Clark Kent's body has been taken to a hospital for an autopsy while the Daily Planet staff mourns him.

In the 14th Century, Syrene and Satanis, who has taken over Superman's body, start their magic duel to death.

In the 20th Century Metropolis, Clark Kent comes back to life on the autopsy table as a result of his past-half being reanimated by Satanis. Neither the coroners nor his co-workers can understand his return, but Clark talks his friends into getting him out of the hospital. Jimmy, Lana and Lois take Clark to the latter's apartment. The trio stays with Clark for a while, but eventually they leave so he can rest.

In the 14th Century, Satanis and Syrene continue their battle. Satanis expects Syrene's lack of experience wielding the powers of the Runestone of Merlin give him an edge, but even so she's too powerful. Growing larger than any planet, Syrene turns the world they're standing on into a snake that swallows Satanis, and then molds it into a ball. Seeing Syrene is about to swallowing him whole, Satanis begs Superman's spirit for help.

In the present, Clark Kent wakes up after having dreamed the whole event. Superman just knows his dream was real and his self trapped in the past is about to be destroyed. He needs to get to the past, but Satanis has blocked every time-travelling method he knows of. Clark Kent goes to the Daily Planet with the aim of requesting a vacation when he overhears Perry White and Lois arguing about her piece on Forgotten Heroes. Lois brings Rip Hunter, the Time Master up, piquing Clark's interest. Clark discreetly x-rays Lois' notes. He had never heard or Rip Hunter until Lois mentioned him, so maybe Satanis hasn't shut down that opening to the past. Superman streaks towards Rip Hunter's Time Lab, meets Rip and explains his predicament.

In the past, Syrene is about to kill Satanis, but the mud ball where he has been emprisoned explodes. Superman has agreed to work with Satanis to defeat Syrene. However, Satanis doesn't want to stop her but kill her. After apparently destroying Syrene Satanis intends to claim her power and become the ruler of all eternity. He thinks Superman can't get his body's control back and stop him, but suddenly a Time Sphere appears and the Superman previously trapped in the 20h Century steps out of it.

Superman engages Satanis, determined to recover his duplicate whose body Satanis is possessing. He fights fiercely, but he only possesses half of his powers whereas Satanis possesses the remainder half as well as his magic skills.

In present day Daily Planet, Lois Lane gets into an argument with Lana Lang about her relationship with Clark. When Lana storms out, Jimmy Olsen asks Lois why she went off on Lana. Lois replies Lana's attitude rubs her the wrong way, but Jimmy believes Lois is hiding her true motives. Meanwhile, a certain Mr. Moore is having a job interview and looking forward to work in the Planet.

In the past, Satanis is going to rip Superman apart magically until the Superman whose body he is possessing starts to resist Satanis' control and turn his own magic on him. Satanis can't use his full power cause of Superman, so he frees a Superman and expels the one he is possessing out.

Both Supermen combine their powers to take Satanis out, but they're weakened and he can use his full power to throw all kind of spells at them. At one point, one Superman takes his fallen twin's hand and helps him up while they are being bathed with magical power. Satanis' residual energies merge into a malevolent energy Superman who attacks Satanis. Satanis blasts his own accidental creation to atoms, but in a last ditch rebellious act, the energy Superman merges both Superman back together.

Superman decides it's time to end their battle. He's vulnerable to Satanis' magic, but his foe is tired. As struggling to dodge or phase through Satanis' blasts, Superman manages to send him into the time-stream and back in his time, where Satanis will no doubt find Syrene waiting for him, and goes back to present-day Metropolis.

Superman changes into his civilian clothes and heads towards the Daily Planet. Upon seeing him, Lana hugs and kisses him as Lois glares.

Mera tells Aquaman that she is Lt. Miriam Bridgeman, and Adm. Murphy explains that Lt. Bridgeman joined them several weeks ago. Aquaman kisses her to find out if she is really his wife, and is satisfied by the response that she is, though she has no memory of being Mera... and the hard-water around the sea station convinces him further that she is really Mera.

When she is hooked up to the brain-print machine, her readings come out garbled. As a final test, Aquaman has Lt. Bridgeman change into a bikini and leap into the sea with him. She finds out that she can breathe water and has telepathic powers, though she still does not remember her Mera identity. But when she tries summoning other fish, she and Aquaman are beset by attacking dolphins, and she mistakenly encases most of Aquaman's body in hard water.

Aquaman and Mera are beset by the attacking dolphins, and Mera's continued attempts to communicate telepathically with them electrify the porpoises like electric eels. Aquaman manages to get three of the dolphins to smash into his hard-water block, freeing him. But a dolphin's electric charge stuns Mera, and, going to her rescue, Aquaman receives Mera's image and her call for help in his mind.

The Mera-image declares that she is trapped, “imprisoned somewhere else!” When Mera (as Bridgeman) awakens in his arms, she says that the real Mera is her prisoner, and that she shares Mera's body, but dominates it. Then she starts to strangle Aquaman.

Even though Aquaman cannot bring himself to hit Mera, he has swordfish swim about them at such a speed it creates a whirlpool, dizzying Mera and enabling him to break her grip. She passes out, and Mera is thus able to override her captor's dominance and send Aquaman telepathic messages.

He learns that the woman in possession of Mera's body now is Vlana, the woman who ruled her dimensional world of Xebel after she left to marry Aquaman. When Mera returned, she found Vlana unwilling to leave the throne, but removed her by force and incurred her wrath. Later, she lured Mera into a trap, and used her enhanced mental powers to take over Mera's body telepathically. After that, she warped into Earth, assumed the Miriam Bridgeman identity, and infiltrated the S.T.A.R. project to learn how to communicate with fish, so that she could use them as “troops” to help her retake Xebel.

Aquaman takes himself and Mera through the warp that admits them to Xebel. When she awakens, Aquaman fears that he will be facing Vlana again, but the crossing has returned Mera's control of her own body to her. Mera leads Aquaman to Vlana, who now has fish-summoning powers and draws an army of octopi, sharks, swordfish, and electric eels through the warp to menace them. Aquaman is stunned by her telepathic strike, and Vlana tells Mera to choose which fish shall kill her.

Mera and Vlana engage in a vicious hand-to-hand fight, though Vlana cheats by using members of her fish “army” to attack her rival. To prevent the interference, Mera creates a sphere of hard water around herself and Vlana, keeping out the fish. Then she and Vlana continue their battle, until the bikini-clad Mera finally defeats her.

Aquaman breaks through the hard-water sphere a few seconds later, and an electric eel follows and kills Vlana with its charge. Mera tells Aquaman that Vlana must have committed suicide by ordering the eel to shock her when she realized she would be defeated.

Later, back in her regular outfit, Mera once again gives up the throne of Xebel to return to Earth with Aquaman, the man she loves.

BEHIND THE CURTAINS

With the end of Aquaman’s story, Action Comics goes back to being just one story per issue (for Superman).

By 1983, “Crisis on Infinite Earths” was still being called “History of the DC Universe”. It doesn’t seem like, at this point, a reboot was in sight.

There are also references to the botched projects for Titans/X-Men and JLA/Avengers.

REVIEW

Fight scenes are boring, or perhaps it’s just me. I think they are a bit more boring when they involve Lord Satanis. Or any of the villains involved in this long story.

I find the character interactions to be the best. Lois is getting closer to Superman, but clearly further and further away from Clark. She doesn’t accept him for who he is, so she wants him to change (of course, the Clark she sees is not even the real Clark Kent).

In that regard, Lana has an advantage, she wants Clark, not Superman, and she knew him all her life, so there would be no need for her to see him change. Lana is clearly winning the fight.

One of the great things John Byrne did, was removing the love triangle. It wasn’t completely erased, but it changed considerably (Lana knows Clark’s secret post-crisis).

Jimmy Olsen has a make-up desk. Just so you know.

The Aquaman back-story is not bad, but it suffers of the same problems his back-ups had in Adventure Comics. Not having a title makes writers do forgettable stories. It is nice to see the couple happy again after all that happened. But Mera renouncing the throne for her husband doesn’t feel very progressive. Especially since Arthur is no longer king of Atlantis.

The art has a lot of fluctuations. From a very clean Irv Novick, to a psychedelic Gil Kane, there is no tone to this story.

I give the whole thing a score of 5

#superman #action comics #gil kane #keith giffen #Dick Giordano #rich buckler #lord satanis #1982 #1983 #bronze age #comic #review #dc comics #aquaman #mera #crisis on infinite earths #lois lane #lana lang #jimmy olsen

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phoenixash749 · 6 years

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My 2018 Reading List and Goodreads Rating

1. Little Monsters by Kara Thomas (4/5)

2. To All the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han (4/5)

3. Turtles All the Way Down by John Green (4/5)

4. A Darker Shade of Magic by VE Schwab (5/5)

5. Love & Gelato by Jenna Evans Welch (4/5)

6. City of Fallen Angels by Cassandra Clare (4/5)

7. The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken (3/5)

8. Simon VS the Homosapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli (4/5)

9. Never Fade by Alexandra Bracken (3/5)

10. Harry Potter: A History of Magic by The British Library (5/5)

11. Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard (3/5)

12. Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare (4/5)

13. P. S. I Still Love You by Jenny Han (4/5)

14. Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys (5/5)

15. The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson (4/5)

16. City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare (5/5)

17. History is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera (4/5)

18. Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor (5/5)

19. Clockwork Princess by Cassandra Clare (5/5)

20. The Bane Chronicles by Cassandra Clare, Sarah Rees Brennan and Maureen Johnson (4/5)

21. Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han (4/5)

22. City of Heavenly Fire by Cassandra Clare (5/5)

23. In the Afterlight by Alexandra Bracken (2/5)

24. The Upside of Unrequited by Becky Albertalli (4/5)

25. Night of Cake and Puppets by Laini Taylor (5/5)

26. The Empress by S. J. Kincaid (3/5)

27. They Both Die At the End by Adam Silvera (4/5)

28. The Cruel Prince by Holly Black (4/5)

29. Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy by Cassandra Clare, Sarah Rees Brennan, Maureen Johnson and Robin Wasserman (4/5)

30. A Court of Frost and Starlight by Sarah J Maas (3/5)

31. Lady Midnight by Cassandra Clare (5/5)

32. Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys (5/5)

33. The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert (5/5)

34. A Gathering of Shadows by VE Schwab (5/5)

35. The Pale Dreamer by Samantha Shannon (3/5)

36. The One Memory of Flora Banks by Emily Barr (1/5)

37. The Distance Between Us by Kasie West (3/5)

38. Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi (4/5)

39. The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan (3/5)

40. Leah On the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli (5/5)

41. Glass Sword by Victoria Aveyard (1/5)

42. Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare (5/5)

43. King's Cage by Victoria Aveyard (2/5)

44. War Storm by Victoria Aveyard (2/5)

45. A Conjuring of Light by VE Schwab (5/5)

46. Muse of Nightmares by Laini Taylor (5/5)

47. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green (4/5)

48. To Kill a Kingdom by Alexandra Christo (3/5)

49. The Wicked Deep by Shea Ernshaw (3/5)

50. A Reaper at the Gates by Sabaa Tahir (5/5)

51. Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J Maas (5/5)

52. Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare (5/5)

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archester-creations · 2 years

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destined to seek life beyond the shore (yoi bb 1/5)

A shrill sound filled the room, jolting Yuuri. It took a second for it to register as his phone alarm, the recesses of his dream sliding off him like slime. Already he couldn't remember anything. Anything but an odd otherness. Something... different than the usual dream inconsistency, but more in line with the sparks of feeling he'd get sometimes growing up in the orphanage. The feeling he didn't belong there, with the other kids. Not that he was something more. But that it just wasn't his place.

He groaned as the alarm continued. A joyful rendition of Spring that he usually liked but gradually turned grating the more he had to hear it at six am. First order of business when his hand collided painfully with the floor was to snooze his phone. Then he stretched further for his glasses. Once he put them on- and snoozed the second alarm- he grabbed his phone to turn off the rest of the alarms. A yawn stretched his mouth and he let his phone drop to his chest.

Classes didn’t actually start for another two hours. But he liked to get in the studio early. To say he was awkward would be an understatement. Having time alone to stretch and practice was preferable. It let him really work on what he wanted to. Still, it could be a chore waking up so early. Another yawn ripped itself from him. Finally he sat up. It was time to actually get ready.

The lights were off when he got to the studio. Early on, the teacher had given him a copy of the key. Apparently his early start hadn’t gone unnoticed, back when a custodian would let him in an hour early. At first he wasn’t sure about it. But she’d been adamant it was fine. He grew to really appreciate it. It took a few seconds for the lights to fully turn on. They were fairly old. Really the whole building was. A one room with mirrors along a wall, a barre in front of a section of them, and hardwood floors. Almost a minute passed where the lights slowly got brighter until the room was washed in light. He took off his shoes and traded them for his ballet slippers before padding further in. The room was cold, but the stretching would warm him up.

Currently the set they had was based off a myth. It wasn’t one he really knew before this. Mythology and legends had never really caught his attention, unless it was performed and he’d never actually found a performance for this. But it was a story his teacher knew. A myth about the leader of a clan during the feudal period, who’d disappeared after his clan had been wiped out. He had gone to fight a rival clan on his own so his own could escape. But they returned despite his orders, unwilling to let him face the much greater enemy alone. Men and women; children and elderly, to protect the leader they loved. It was a massacre. Everyone was killed. Except the leader, who was left behind, injured but alive with just the remnants of his clan around him. Losing his people left him so distraught a storm opened above him and when it dissipated, he had vanished with it. Yuuri could understand the desire to vanish. Though he’d never experienced loss anywhere close to what the leader in the story did. Still, as the date for the performance drew even closer, the thought of vanishing was even more tempting than normal. What possessed his teacher to make him, the quietest in the group, the main role he didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to ask.

With a breath he closed his eyes. And let the wood and mirror and barre- let the building - vanish from his mind. A clearing replaced it. Packed dirt under his feet, just loose enough to send up small clouds at his every footfall. Cloudless sky over his head, a midday that would darken to a false night in only hours. He let one foot slide forward, an arm extend out. As he did his arm transformed into a sword, silver curling up and past his skin to shape itself into metal. On a spin he lifted to en pointe. The sword flashed out in front of him, a part of his dance. Right now, the floor was devoid of enemies. But that would change. He’d spin and step around them, always one step ahead, until one of the dancers would send his sword scattering and the tables would turn. An unfair battle from the beginning only then showing its face. He spun again, jumped and purposely staggered.

The bang of the door slamming open broke his concentration. Yuuri jolted. The purposeful stagger almost turned to a fall. His eyes flew open and everything flowed back in at once. What time was it? There was no way someone else was actually coming in to practice right now. A bit panicked, he slowly looked to the mirror in front of him. And… this wasn’t one of the other dancers. He wasn’t actually sure they were even a college student. Sure, he was a little short for someone his age so he couldn’t really say much. But this kid was small . Willowy in a way that didn’t distract from his short stature but practically enhanced it. A furious look flitted across their features and settled in green eyes as their eyes met through the mirror. Yuuri squeaked as they started toward him. Their steps could only be described as ‘war path’. Bare feet slapped wet prints in a trail across the floor. And- it hadn’t been raining when Yuuri walked in. The tin roof would echo like a drumbeat when it rained, sometimes like a metronome keeping pace, but it’d been silent the entire time. There was no rain. Still, the puddles on the floor and the way long blonde hair clung damp to the other spoke of rain. Finally, Yuuri found his voice. “You can’t come in here like that.”

They tsked at him and Yuuri flinched again. Then, strangest of all, they got to their knees. Suddenly, Yuuri froze as a complete stranger bowed to him. It was perhaps a weird thing to panic about. Whatever oddness this was was on them, not him. But that didn’t stop the feeling from rising. “You- you don’t-” Don’t what ? They have to know they don’t have to bow to him. What was he saying? Still, the words tried to come. To tell this stranger whatever this was was unnecessary. (Weird, too, but Yuuri wasn’t sure he could force himself to admit that outloud.)

A look of annoyance from them clamped his mouth shut. Any further protest he could’ve mustered was bowled over by the stranger’s words. “I swear never to desert my post before your throne. Do you accept?” If he hadn’t already been staring, those words would’ve made him. As he was, now the words only made him mute. Or, more mute. Like every word had vacated his brain. Leaving it empty and hollow. The person looked up at him, green eyes so scathing Yuuri blanched. “ Do you accept? ” Each word was harsh. Like if he gave the wrong answer pain would befall him. Even though they were smaller than him, Yuuri had no trouble believing they would deliver. He swallowed against a dry throat.

“I… guess?” The look he received was flat. But Yuuri couldn’t help the question. A stranger just walked in, getting the floor wet, bowed to him, and asked if he accepted something he couldn’t even understand. A throne? If it wasn’t for his glaring lack of friends or enemies or really acquaintances of any kind outside his teacher, he’d think he was being pranked. Really, maybe he was being pranked. Picked on for being the quiet kid. The shy kid. It’s not like it would be the first time. “What is going on?”

The flat look deepened. Like being asked for an explanation offended him. Despite Yuuri feeling like it should be a reasonable request. Yuuri had to fight the gut reaction to apologize. In quick steps they were by his side and took his arm to drag him outside with a strength their body didn’t show. The world outside was dry and cool with the early morning light. But it darkened around them. A sudden storm out of nowhere. Like the story he’d just been imagining. The sound of rain filtered in, but none touched. His brain reeled slightly at the disconnect. Until his body went weightless and it reeled for a fully different reason. “ Wait -” Yuuri called in his confusion. But the sound of the storm stole the word. Ripped it from his throat and threw it from the world. Everything else began to filter in. Rain pelted the side of his face, matting his hair and staining his glasses. It seeped cold through his clothes. A flash of lightning lit a sky he didn’t know. Thunder echoed it. And his body went from weightless to falling.

#yoi big bang 2021 #yuri on ice #katsuki yuuri #yuuri katsuki #yuri plisetsky #twelve kingdoms au #writings #sing with me a song of birthrights and love

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bastardtravel · 6 years

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August 11, 2018. Manchester, New Hampshire.

After seven hours on the road, pausing only to explore an Old Ones cult site, storm a terrible castle, and eat distressingly dry corned beef at a Greek diner that still advertised one of their menu items as “Michael Jackson’s favorite grinder”, we were in dire need of respite.

Establishing a forward operating base was our first priority. For my part, I can sleep anywhere. My bonfire days in the Frozen North frequently necessitated pitching a $10 K-Mart tent over gravel, then drinking bottom-shelf whiskey until you didn’t realize you were sleeping in a puddle of rainwater and broken glass. That’s not a knack you lose. It’s like riding a bike. The Girl was always more discerning, and became doubly so after our experience in Phoenix with the inept criminal front halfway house hotel. We agreed that she can veto any of the lodgings I book. Sometimes, late at night, I’ll hold a flashlight under my chin and tell her spoOoOoky stories about hostels in Ireland.

She insisted on the airport Super 8. I was hoping to stay in a quaint deep woods motel called “Unsmiling Jed’s Sleepaway”, attached to sister business “Unsmiling Jed’s Discount Plastic Surgery Silo and Chili Kitchen”.

If I can’t protect it, I don’t deserve to have it. That goes double for life.

A friendly foreign woman checked us in at the Super 8, then proceeded into utter bafflement when I asked for a first aid kid. I chewed myself up pretty good climbing Bancroft’s Castle, and I’d spent the last half hour bleeding into an oily dog blanket to avoid ruining my upholstery. I’m pretty sure that’s how plagues start.

There were no band-aids here, or antiseptics, or possibly medicine as a concept. There was a three gallon tub of hand sanitizer. I thanked her for the offer but gently declined.

We went up to the third floor. The hallways were lined with people sitting on the carpet outside their rooms, shouting and smoking cigarettes. The room itself was clean and the air conditioning worked. All my boxes were checked. The bathroom reeked of weed, which some would interpret as a bonus. I scrubbed my wounds raw in the sink, tucked away the precious cargo of wine and peaches, and set out to investigate downtown Manchester.

Streetlight technology has not yet made its way to Manchester, so we spent twenty minutes missing exits in ocean-floor darkness. It looked worryingly like Wilkes-Barre, which is not where one would choose to vacation, were one sane.

Downtown erupted from nowhere like graphic pop-in on a video game running at its lowest resolution. One second you’re in leatherface country, with nothing breaking the abyssal darkness but the occasional half-broken Jiffy Lube sign. The next, you’re on vibrant neon market strip, replete with hipsters and the homeless.

We knew we had hit downtown proper when we passed by the “craft grilled cheese bistro”.

only programmers will understand!!!! like and reblog if u get it

Since I am an adult man, grilled cheese cannot be dinner. Both “gastropubs” we tried, despite their bitchin Greek mythology names, offered generic terrible burgers and a draft list that consisted of Coors Light.

“I’m so hungry,” the Girl told me. “I’m gonna die.”

“We all will,” I assured her. “Soon.”

Yelp claimed there was a brewery five blocks away. We walked off the only lit street, into absolute, encompassing blackness. It would’ve been spooky if I didn’t always kind of hope some Putty Patrol mook would lunge at me from the dark while I’m far away from home, having told no one where I’m going and left no paper trail.

There were no incidents. No one was murdered in self-defense. No one knows what we did last summer. The Stark Brewing Company was in the basement of a grim looking office complex, and it was vacant save for two other wanderers.

We sat at the bar and ordered a flight and an imperial stout. I was pushing for finding an actual restaurant, but the Girl ordered “Penne with vodka sauce”, which was not the right color, flavor, or texture to be anything but penne bolognese. The Girl didn’t seem to mind. I ate a pulled pork sandwich.

The beers were warm, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter what the beers were, so long as they were beers. And not Coors Light. The brewery themed all of their beers off of dogs, for some reason, which I believe to be the ideal business model. According to the bartenders, the brewery had been open for 25 years, but hadn’t yet received their big boom. I was outraged. The beers were excellent, and would probably be even better if they weren’t room temperature, and the taps were not only named for specific dogs, but also provided pictures.

To say nothing of the bathroom, which was covered in sharpie beer lore.

The bartender and waitresses swore a lot more than you would normally expect in this context. The Girl maintains they were swearing at us. I disagreed.

“They were swearing <i>with</i> us,” I mansplained.

“We weren’t swearing,” she countered.

“But if we HAD been.”

As I’ve grown larger and more sinuous, I’ve tried to cut back on how often I cuss at strangers. Cultural relativism is the understanding that not everyone grew up among the coalcrackers, and good-natured oaths like “how the hell are you” or using the fuck-word as a conversational placeholder, while subjectively soothing, can set off fight-or-flight in the small, soft, and bourgeoisie.

I try to maintain direct proportionality between my barbarism and my well-heeledness. Neither the wait staff nor the other two customers shared my bond, and the middle-aged guy on my right proceeded to tell me how his hometown of Denver, Colorado is the greatest fuckin’ city in America, next to maybe Southern California. Which is not a city.

We talked about our homes and travels for a while, then I got my pulled pork sandwich and they left. The sandwich was slightly warmer than the beer, which beat the alternative.

An armada of children came into the bar.

“Oh, shit,” the woman tending bar said. They were visibly teenagers, and on the wrong side of it. They had that gangly awkwardness you get around fourteen or fifteen, and if they were trying to play it off, they were woefully bad at it. There were also nearly twenty of them. It looked like a field trip.

People in their twenties don’t travel in packs of more than six. It’s hard to transport a throng, unless you have a party bus, and why do you have a party bus when you’re twenty-eight? You’re twenty-eight and party buses have always been sad. Get a job. Also, it’s hard to get that many adults to agree on something.

It can be done. You can say, “Hey, adults, you want to do some drugs?” And in a sufficiently sized crowd, you’ll manage to pull twenty or so who will follow you to your house or whatever. This is called an “afterparty”. It doesn’t go to bars at 9pm.

Have you felt out the social zeitgeist recently? Look at a random handful of current memes and it’ll be pretty clear that most adults consider socialization to be a required burden, like paying emotional taxes. “Going out” is the price of living in a civilized society. You’re not going to scare up twenty people, then put them in a party bus, then take them to an abandoned bar half a mile outside of where the actual nightlife is.

“Hey, we’re just about to close,” the bartender said.

A reedy blonde in a top that seemed to consist mostly of straps screeched, “But your WEBSITE said you were open til ONE!”

Screeched.

The bar fell silent. Well, more silent. The Girl and I traded looks, her horror for my delight.

“Uhhhhhh,” the bartender said, but with excellent elocution, as though that were the word she had deliberately chosen. “Okay.”

They sat the itinerant mall food court in an enormous corner table, whereupon they requested shots.

The waitress who had sworn at/with us the least came back to the bar and said, “You guys said you were from Pennsylvania, right?”

We nodded.

“Can I see one of your licenses quick?”

She compared mine against the obviously fake ID one of the tweens had given her. After a moment she said, “Yeah, you can see, the font is different. And the picture looks like it’s photoshopped.”

“Yeah, no one’s license picture ever looks this good,” the Girl said, studying the fake ID.

“Except mine,” I added. They ignored me. I didn’t take it personally.

The waitresses disappeared into the back. Five minutes later, the only dude working at the place was gendered into being the bad cop. He sulked over to the teens.

“You guys gotta leave,” he said. “We know your ID’s fake. We’re not trying to get fined. You gotta go.”

For maximum accuracy, imagine this said in Toby’s voice from the Office. Shamefaced, the flash mob of children dispersed.

We paid for our room temperature beers and left the poor, foul-mouthed brewery to close at 9:30 on a Friday. The Girl and I accidentally stalked the battalion of teens through the street, but only because we were all moving back toward the only lights in the city, not unlike moths. They turned a corner and vanished, presumably to find an arcade or laser tag or some sort of large carousel.

The Girl and I followed the sounds of some obnoxious bros announcing, “It’s like a fahkin sketchy ally, dewd”.

It was, in fact, the least sketchy alley I’d ever been in. Cat Alley was the best lit venue in all of New Hampshire. It was clean and well-maintained, and it was covered less in graffiti and more in an outdoor art gallery dedicated to cats.

There were more, but they didn’t all warrant a picture.

Portland Pie Co loomed from the endless darkness like a beacon in the night, hearkening back to those days lost in Maine during the Great Lobster Drought of 2017. We split a bourbon barrel ale which did me in. It was bedtime.

On the way back, toward the end of the main drag, a man made of pure light rode by blasting EZ-Listenin from his Tron bicycle, also made of pure light.

I can’t prove he wasn’t Jesus.

Heartened, we returned to the hotel, where no one was smoking or yelling in the hallway anymore. Excellent.

Next stop, Portsmouth.

Love,

The Bastard

Into the Abyss August 11, 2018. Manchester, New Hampshire. After seven hours on the road, pausing only to explore an Old Ones cult site, storm a terrible castle, and eat distressingly dry corned beef at a Greek diner that still advertised one of their menu items as "Michael Jackson's favorite grinder", we were in dire need of respite.

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libidomechanica · 3 years

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Where constance made me a man beneath the boat, my cheek

Said betraying to become more they will know its must burn as closely clings like to the garden ground, and again and the blue eggs of Pegasus shall made this Cot, our “royal word shall see where my marine

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and I will be feasting, although prospered lowly, how this is, and waters Hill; sunset flame; a though that I meant, but when the all-cloudless marble. Out of my mistress bids me little lack of us in the random

gales than both joyous wood the bond—the studded, old, which youll root and the gift of their riot evening when I perceived with a hey nonino, those ridge, on the highest, among piled as kind, a hearth:

man to obey; all the title of going we will dignify our food we had seen some queen sent forth, and mouthingness,’“tis also who, his God-knows-what: for Charlie, hes my darling, charlie, hes my day is better, at least:

even with hurricane tape, like a children cry, there. Taking the women and flung hovers oergrowth at his Face, that were over there are not to sing, hurry in thy spirit fold,” her father difficult

complaint, it scarf, And breed Me sent from the dore tongue. let me studious hours and gentleman oft perfectst man; which she neither spinnin wheel in heavenly harmony commonwealth goes far. and pale as persistent scents snatched

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to possessed your hand. Into a book-learnd. But shear a torn awaye without a storms, transfusing girl, her side, that now she loves, with those pedestrian Paphians who abound in the day till the could be.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #190 texts

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hfsodihfoifuweoi · 3 years

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we are an appless, oc, discord-based roleplay, set in leavenworth, washington - a very real, teeny tiny town, with very made up people. we are semi-plotless! our focus is plot events and activities that encourage relationship building and social interactions, collaboration with other writers that ultimately makes the rp juicier and more fun for everyone.

◦ there is no character cap in effect ◦ activity checks are minimal ◦ we are lgbtq+ friendly, and poc-friendly

ping us with your questions, or click here to hop on our server: https://discord.gg/eAbvJGtdPf

---

psst. have you heard? we’re looking for some characters to flesh out our little town! all fcs below are suggested. all character details are utp.

ALL CROSSED OUT FACE CLAIMS ARE TAKEN. ◦ they're doing the serving, leading this town into the 21st century. at the helm of this tightly knit city council is the youngest mayor in some 35-odd years, and he's full of ideas to wake up this little town that time forgot. — mayor: STEPHEN AMELL — city council: TESSA THOMPSON, RACHEL WEISZ, OSCAR ISAAC, CHRIS PINE ◦ they’re doing the protecting - although truth be told, the worst the local FIRE AND SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENTS have to deal with is a burning barbecue in the summer, snow storms, or drunk teenagers lost in the woods: — sergeants and deputies include: ZACH ROERIG, NICOLE BEHARI, and CONOR LESLIE — fire fighters: JESSE SPENCER, STEVEN R. MCQUEEN and MIRANDA RAE MAYO — emts or paramedics: CHARLIE BARNETT and KARA KILLMER ◦ in the event of an emergency, you'll be glad to be in the care of these phenomenal doctors and nurses. — hospital CEO: KERRY WASHINGTON — doctors and nurses: SANDRA OH, ELLEN POMPEO, SARAH DREW, ANTONIA THOMAS, PATRICK DEMPSEY, ERIC DANE, RYAN EGGOLD, MALCOLM-JAMAL WARNER

◦ it’s not just a tourist town! there’s a permanent population of 2000 in leavenworth, and their grown up kids have to go to school somewhere and be taught by somebody. local college professors suggested fcs include: — KERRI RUSSELL — EMILY DESCHANEL — TOM MISON ◦ it’s a war of the LOCAL BARS. in one corner is nellie’s, a bar in the basement of a pizzeria near city hall, and definitely a locals-only hole in the wall. in the other corner? the thirsty elf, with its tiki santa cups, and little paper umbrellas in all the drinks, it’s definitely geared toward the tourists: — owner of nellie’s: VICTORIA PEDRETTI — nellie’s staff: FLORENCE PUGH, LAURA HARRIER — owner of the thirsty elf: AMY ADAMS — the thirsty elf staff: CHANCE PERDOMO, DIEGO BONETA ◦ rumour has it a REAL ESTATE DEVELOPER from the big city has been spotted in town, snooping around. he's already handled the casino opening this town doesn't need - he and that fancy LAWYER he’s been toting around can’t be up to any good. — real estate developer: ROBERT DOWNEY JR. — lawyer: CANDICE PATTON ◦ speaking of law. whatever your legal needs might be, they can be met by the good folks working at the local LAW FIRM: Hubbard, Washington, Parker & Associates: — managing partner: EWAN MCGREGOR or ROSAMUND PIKE — name partner: GEMMA CHAN — lawyer: REGÉ-JEAN PAGE, IDRIS ELBA, RYAN GOSLING, THEO JAMES, BLAKE LIVELY — paralegal: ALEXANDRA DADDARIO, LAKEITH STANFIELD ◦ the various colourful characters who call leavenworth home, we’d love to see them more often**: — ARDEN CHO — HAYLEY ATWELL — ZOE KRAVITZ — RICKY WHITTLE — BEN BARNES — MATT BARR **these are some fcs we'd love to see, with no specific desired occupations.

#lsrpg #oc lsrpg #lsrp #oc rp #literate rp

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a-wlw-reads · 7 years

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Hey tumblr so I need your help! My school always had one of those “Read Across America” maps with young adult novels or romances or whatever (evidently, I’m American) but I’ve never seen anything comparable for wlw. I’ve tried to rely on my memory and on other people’s recs but I’m only (exactly) halfway through. Any suggestions to fill in these missing states? I’ve tried to avoid stories that take place across multiple locations. Or offer more options for the ones I already have, the more the merrier.

Alabama : Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flag

Alaska : Grief Map by Sarah Hahn Campbell, The Dead Go to Seattle by Vivian Faith Prescott

Arizona : Bright Lights of Summer by Lynn Ames

Arkansas : Cottonmouths by Kelly J. Ford

California : Everything Leads to You by Nina LaCour, Honey Girl by Lisa Freeman, Frog Music by Emma Donoghue, The Necessary Hunger by Nina Revoyr, Gay L.A.: A History of Sexual Outlaws, Power Politics, and Lipstick Lesbians by Lillian Faderman and Stuart Timmons, Queens of Geek by Jen Wilde, The Brightsiders by Jen Wilde, Under the Lights by Dahlia Adler, Far From Home by Lorelie Brown, The Summer of Jordi Perez (And the Best Burger in Los Angeles) by Amy Spalding, You Know Me Well by Nina LaCour, Excavation by Wendy C. Ortiz, The IHOP Papers by Ali Liebegott, Soft on Soft by Em Ali, She Is Me by Cathleen Schine

Colorado : Marionette by T.B. Markinson, Sleight of Hand by Mark Henwick, Snow Falls by Gerri Hill, Sadie by Courtney Summers, Tell Me What You Like by Kate Allen

Connecticut : Pages for You by Sylvia Brownrigg, Patience & Sarah by Isabel Miller

Delaware : As I Lay Frying: A Rehoboth Beach Memoir by Fay Jacobs

Florida : Breathing Underwater by Lu Vickers, Roller Girl by Vanessa North, Down to the Bone by Mayra Lazara Dole

Georgia : Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit by Jaye Robin Brown, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, The Blue Place by Nicola Griffith, Taking Flight by Siera Maley, Honor Girl: A Graphic Memoir by Maggie Thrash, Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli, Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World by Ashley Herring Blake, Odd One Out by Nic Stone, The Cherokee Rose by Tiya Miles

Hawaii : Razor Wire by Lauren Gallagher, Name Me Nobody by Lois-Ann Yamanaka

Idaho : Ship It by Britta Lundin, Her Hometown Girl by Lorelie Brown, Right Out of Nowhere by Laurie Salzler, Idaho Code by Joan Opyr

Illinois : Coffee Will Make You Black by April Sinclair, How Sweet It Is by Melissa Brayden, What Matters Most by Georgia Beers, The Long Way Home by Rachel Spangler, Close to Home by Rachel Spangler, Memory Mambo by Achy Obejas, Things to Do When You’re Goth in the Country by Chavisa Woods

Indiana : Tessa Masterson Will Go to Prom by Emily Franklin and Brendan Halpin, Hoosier Daddy by Ann McMan and Salem West

Iowa : A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley, Moo by Jane Smiley, The Butches of Madison County by Ellen Orleans, Death by Discount by Mary Vermillion

Kansas : Far From Xanadu by Julie Anne Peters, My Almost Certainly Real Imaginary Jesus by Kelly Barth

Kentucky : Run by Kody Keplinger, Dress Codes for Small Towns by Courtney Stevens

Louisiana : Her Name in the Sky by Kelly Quindlen, Beauty and the Boss by Ali Vali, Rusty Logic by Robin Alexander, Spelling Mississippi by Marnie Woodrow, The Fact of a Body: A Murder and a Memoir by Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich

Maine : Style by Chelsea Cameron, Double Exposure by Chelsea Cameron, A Good Idea by Christina Moracho

Maryland : Cytherea’s Breath by Sarah Aldridge

Massachusetts : Mermaid in Chelsea Creek by Michelle Tea, Map of Ireland by Stephanie Grant, Heart of Brass by Morven Moeller, A Line in the Dark by Malinda Lo, P.S. I Miss You by Jen Petro-Roy, Hocus Pocus & The All-New Sequel by A.W. Jantha, Marriage of a Thousand Lies by AJ Sindu, Love & Other Carnivorous Plants by Florence Gonsalves, Marriage of Unconvenience by Chelsea M. Cameron, Cool for You by Eileen Myles

Michigan : The Liberators of Willow Run by Marianne K. Martin, Drum Roll, Please by Lisa Jenn Bigelow, The Cold and the Rust: Poems by Emily Van Kley, Her by Cherry Muhanji, Vanished by E.E. Cooper, Radical by E.M. Kokie

Minnesota : Sister Mischief by Laura Goode, Being Emily by Rachel Gold, My Year Zero by Rachel Gold, Bend by Nancy Hedin, Hallowed Murder by Ellen Hart

Mississippi : Ramona Blue by Julie Murphy

Missouri : Deliver Us from Evie by M.E. Kerr, Heart of the Game by Rachel Spangler, Jam on the Vine by LaShonda Katrice Barnett

Montana : The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily M. Danforth, Innocent Hearts by Radclyffe, Storms by Gerri Hill

Nebraska : Not Otherwise Specified by Hannah Moskowitz, Over You by Amy Reed

Nevada : Not Your Sidekick by C.B. Lee, Desert of the Heart by Jane Rule, Bittersweet by Nevada Barr

New Hampshire : Good Moon Rising by Nancy Garden, Snowsisters by Tom Wilinsky and Jen Sternick

New Jersey : A Cup of Water Under My Bed by Daisy Hernández

New Mexico : Beauty of the Broken by Tawni Waters, So Far From God by Ana Castillo, The Last of the Menu Girls by Denise Chávez, Like Water by Rebecca Podos

New York : Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova, Annie On My Mind by Nancy Garden, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name by Audre Lorde, Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown, We Are Okay by Nina LaCour, Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg, Thaw by Elyse Springer, Eating Fire: My Life as a Lesbian Avenger by Kelly Cogswell, Rat Bohemia by Sarah Schulman, Tailor-Made by Yolanda Wallace, The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith, When Katie Met Cassidy by Camille Perri

North Carolina : The Ada Decades by Paula Martinac, Challah and Callaloo by La Toya Hankins

North Dakota : Prairie Silence: A Memoir by Melanie Hoffert

Ohio : Fat Angie by E.E. Charlton-Trujillo, Taking the Long Way by Lily R. Mason, The Last Place You Look by Kristen Lepionka, Eat Your Heart Out by Dayna Ingram, Juniper Lane by Kady Morrison

Oklahoma : Tumbleweed Fever by L.J. Maas, Edited Out by Lisa Haddock

Oregon : Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera, Forgive Me If I’ve Told You This Before by Karelia Stetz-Waters, Dryland by Sara Jaffee

Pennsylvania : Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, In the Silence by Jaimie Leigh McGovern, The Summer We Got Free by Mia McKenzie

Rhode Island : The Red Tree by Caitlín R. Kiernan, Homecoming by Nell Stark, Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult

South Carolina : The House You Pass on the Way by Jacqueline Woodson, Two or Three Things I Know for Sure by Dorothy Allison, The Revolution of Little Girls by Blanche McCrary Boyd

South Dakota : Charity by Paulette Callen

Tennessee : Secret City by Julia Watts, If I Was Your Girl by Meredith Russo, South of Sunshine by Dana Elmendorf, Choices by Skyy, Like Me: Confessions of a Heartland Country Singer by Chely Wright

Texas : Forgetting the Alamo, Or, Blood Memory by Emma Pérez, Santa Olivia by Jacqueline Carey, The Unraveling of Mercy Louis by Keija Parssinen, Gulf Breeze by Gerri Hill, Gulf Dreams by Emma Pérez, Lay Down the Law by Carsen Taite, Far From the World We Know by Harper Bliss, Spinning by Tillie Walden, Mean Deaf Little Queer by Terry Galloway, The Dime by Kathleen Kent, Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home by Leah Lax

Utah : Saving Alex: When I Was Fifteen I Told My Mormon Parents I Was Gay, and That’s When My Nightmare Began by Alex Cooper

Vermont : Dismantled by Jennifer McMahon

Virginia : As I Descended by Robin Talley, Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Talley, Jericho by Ann McMan

Washington : The Edge of Nowhere by Elizabeth George, Dreadnought and Sovereign by April Daniels, About A Girl by Sarah McCarry, Karen Memory by Elizabeth Bear, The Cybernetic Tea Shop by Meredith Katz, Stuck Landing by Lauren Gallagher

Washington, D.C : Madam President by Blayne Cooper and T. Novan, Pulp by Robin Talley

West Virginia : The Winter Triangle by Nikki Woolfolk, Blue Apple Switchback by Carrie Highley, Sugar Run by Mesha Maren

Wisconsin :

Wyoming :

#q slur #wlw #wlw books #wlw novel #wlw representation

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