#naked city brewery

[mountphoenixrp]

The Sunshine Festival is coming up fast! In preparation, you can find the program for the market and concert stage below!

Market Booths:

The Flower Mill Goods/Services: An assortment of baked goods (sunshine shaped eggtart, songpyeon, sunshine macaron), caramel cold brew, and iced coffee.

Honeypot Brewery & Tapas Goods/Services: Aqua fresca (strawberry, cucumber, lime), burritos, and ceviche. Specials: Double Trouble coupons: for two people to enjoy a full Mexican-style meal for the price of one; city trivia game prize winner will receive ultra special prize.

Ice Ice Baby Goods/Services: Gourmet ice cream! Specials: Buy one, get one free single scoop cones; 20% off ice cream sundaes.

Spilled Tea Goods/Services: Strawberry, Lychee, and Matcha boba tea and herbal tea bags for sell. Specials: Buy three tea bags, get one free.

Sweet Spot (Eros’ pop up chocolate and sweets booth) Goods/Services: Fine flower and fruit infused chocolates, light sweet confections, dipped fruit, “love dust”, and love advice. Specials: Archery target practice game with prizes for romantic dates.

Dagger & Roses Goods/Services: Custom jewelry and weapons commissions. Specials: 30% for commission orders placed at the festival. Metalwork classes bundles (sign up for 3 classes, get 2 additional sessions free).

Jinxxed Goods/Services: Bone/tea/tarot readings, candle blessings, spell pouch making. Specials: 40% off crystals with proof of reading(s); free admission to one full moon ritual.

Halo Salon & Spa Goods/Services: Shoulder massages, hair trims, and manicures. Specials: 20% off your next visit coupons handed out to every customer.

Maibee Art Goods/Services: Handmade home decor, jewellery, personalized gifts and other art. Will be live painting. Specials: 15% off of everything; free hedgehog or bee charm with every purchase.

Stop&Paws Goods/Services: Mini grooming service (brush out & bandannas/bows for pets); “Meet the Adoptables” pen; and a pet cool down station with water dishes and a small pool. Specials: $10 mini grooming service; 20% off adoption fee for all animals at the festival; free pet treats.

Performers:

HEXED (Claire, Cassandra & Charlotte), rock band

HEXED will be headlining the festival, playing a set of their best songs (so far) every day. Fans might even get a sneak peak of a song or two off their up-coming album...

Stargazers Group (Heather, Dakota, Hunter & Invidia), singing

The group will be performing covers of popular songs like MILLION DOLLAR BABY (Tommy Richman), Too Sweet (Hozier), and Oui ou non (BRÖ).

Esther Yu, piano performance

Esther will perform Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter, Naked in Mahattan by Chappelle Roan, and I Can Do It With A Broken Heart by Taylor Swift.

Vulpe Blanford, piano performance

Vulpe will perform a piano rearrangement of the La La Land soundtrack.

Please use this information to plot with as many people as you would like! Employees and performers can have threads where they are working/performing and threads during their days off at the festival, if you’d like.

There is no time limit for threads, but the event will only officially last a week, so make sure to start your threads or whatever else you have in mind once it begins! And please be sure to post all event-related threads in the designated Discord channel.

Most importantly, of course, have fun!

[bobemajses]

My great grandparents were married young in Boston, my great grandfather being an immigrant front Zvhill (boarded ship 1909) a d my great grandmother was Litvish and that is all I know about her. They lived in Brookline, had 4 kids, and allegedly got kicked out of shul for being unable to pay dues. Because of this, I am the last practicing jew in my family! Zvhil is also known as Novogorod-Volnsk and is home to a decent hasidic dynasty. My great grandfather was involved w the jewish workers circle though, unsure how that lined up.

Thank you! Zhvil or Novogtad Volynsky was actually a very important Hasidic center, giving birth to a dynasty that transverses generations and geography. Mosheh, one of several sons of Yehi'el Mikhl of Zlotshev (a disciple of the Besht and the Magid), established himself in Zhvil and became a Tsadik (a title indicating a righteous person who never sins in thought, speech, or action). Moshe's dynasty is the only one, among those of his brothers, that has survived and it now exists in Jerusalem.

The first Jews of Zhvil are mentioned in the document from 1488, when the town was under the rule of Casimir Jagiellon, the Grand Duke of Lithuania. Most Jews were engaged in innkeeping, crafts and the trades, the leather trade preeminent among them (the skill of working with leather migrated to the mill towns of Massachusetts, along with the migrating Jews who left Zhvil). On the northern outskirts of the city (near the brewery) there was a special district of Jewish tanners, who even had their own synagogue. In 1816 Jews occupied the posts of one of the two mayors and two of the five council members of the town magistrate.

The community suffered greatly during the Russian civil war, with thousands murdered by depraved mobs unhinged by the chaos, deprivation, and anarchy of war. They set fire to houses, plundered them, killed men, violated women. Many other Jews were dispersed, and Zhvil was completely burned to the ground.

In 1919, a great number of Jews were dragged to the bank of the river Slutsc, where they were told to dig. Then the murderers undressed them naked, chopped off their arms and threw them alive into the grave. In one instance a father was compelled to chop off the arms of his son; in another, a son was made to do the same thing to his father. About 500 Jews perished in this way. In Juli, Pogorelov, the initiator of the atrocities, stopped the pogrom, but demanded of the Jews 50 horses and a great quantity of salt and sugar. The Jews delivered to him whatever they succeeded in collecting.

By 1929 a massive attack on the religious community by the Commmunist authorities began and ended in the mid-30s with closing of all synagogues and prayer houses. The last Rabbi of Zhvil, Gedale-Moyshe Goldman, was sentenced to 7 years in Siberian labor camps.

Novograd Volynsky was occupied by German troops on July 8, 1941. The murder of the town's Jews started in late July 1941 and lasted until September of the same year. The Jews who survived these murder operations (most of them skilled workers in occupations needed by the Germans) as well as Jews from surrounding villages were rounded up and interned in a ghetto, where terrible living conditions, starvation, and exhaustion took their toll. In the winter of 1943, a number of ghetto inmates fled to the forests north of Zhitomir, where theu joined partisans units. The remaining ghetto population, as well as some captured Jews, were shot.

After 1945, there was a small religious Jewish community in the town. It owned house 24 on Troitskaya Street. On July 30, 1960, the town authorities decided to give this building to the local department of education. The local press started a powerful propaganda campaign against Judaism and heads of the community. After that, the Jewish community existed illegal. In December 2001, only 188 Jews were registered in the city.

[littlefreya]

Set me Free

Summary:  Part Two to Let Me In - After a night of being an asshole, getting drunk and then falling asleep when you were just finally getting into the mood. The Captain wakes up finding himself in somewhat of a pickle.

Read Part One

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Reader (You)

Word count: 4.1K

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Male Sub / FemDom, bondage, sex toys (woman playing with a vibrator), oral preformed on a male and a female (face-sitting), power play, teasing, unprotected sex, bodily fluids. All the good stuff.   

A/N: SmuttyWeekend Commences! Guys this is my first MaleSub and I was struggling with it being a FemSub. So please gimmie feedback. 😥😥😥😥 Many thanks to @agniavateira who edits my work.

Title: Set me Free

The big military grunt is lying in the middle of an ocean of navy blue sheets, utterly nude as the sunlight beams through the window and kisses his rigid abs with a warm, golden haze. From all the men who ever fell unconscious in your bed, Syverson has to be the most delicious treat of them all.

Taut muscles stretch across an incredibly large, triangle-shaped upper body and thick, solid thighs. His glowing skin is covered by a dusting of black hairs which flow from his wide chest to his torso, leading to his delightfully enormous cock that nestles between a bundle of dark curls. 

He is the epitome of masculinity, especially with that thick beard which he refuses to shave. 

You sit on your small IKEA chair, lounging lazily with your ankles crossed together while sipping your latte macchiato and enjoying your new morning view. 

The big man usually sleeps around 3 to 4 “generous” hours if he’s lucky to get any proper sleep at all, and not be consumed by night terrors. It’s something you’ve learnt to deal with, at least sort of. But with the amount of alcohol he consumed, he’s been out of it even after you woke up. 

You indulge yourself looking at his sleeping form. Watching as his chest gently rises and falls and his cock semi-hardens from the stream of blood that gravitates to his loins. 

If only you could wake up to this impressionistic vision of beauty every day for the rest of your life. But no, you had to go and get yourself involved with a military bloke, a captain, nonetheless. 

Finally, he begins shifting on the mattress, the muscles of his chest flex inward and his stomach sucks in, followed by a low roar emitted from his defined lips. 

There is much of the beast in him, sometimes even more than the man. 

You capture your lower lip beneath your teeth, waiting with mirth and anticipation for him to open his beautiful blue eyes. 

His face curls with what you assume to be a mild sensation of pain. The strong scent of whiskey wafts from his body as if he bathed in a brewery. You wouldn’t be surprised if the captain is nursing a minor hangover, which you have the perfect cure for.

The metal bars shake and then thud against the wall as he foolishly attempts to move his arms. Sharp, ringing sounds thunder in your ears as the small chain of his cuffs grind against the peg. You smile, placing your empty cup on the study, watching your man as he wakes from his deep slumber to find himself in captivity. 

“What in the n…” 

His eyes blink open. He observes the leather cuffs around his wrists and begins moving around wildly, attempting to free himself by shaking his hands back and forth with force. The bed creaks and shifts beneath his weight. A slight tension rises in your chest; a man as strong as Syverson might actually break the bars and the bed too, possibly.

You clear your throat to redirect his attention, only to be greeted by a furious glare.

“Morning, Captain.” you hail, your voice smooth and relaxed, contradicting Syverson’s blazing temper. A mixture of daze and anger drapes his face as he focuses on your sight. 

You wonder, does he even remember the little performance from last night? Because you sure as hell are going to remember that for the rest of your life.

He angrily narrows his blue eyes, giving you a menacing look. His jaw clenches hard beneath the rough thicket of his beard. 

Syverson is a force to be reckoned with; he is not a man who enjoys these types of silly games. Everything about him is hard, down to business, and with him saying the final word in the conversation.

Too bad that right now he is no longer in a position of power.  

“What the hell is this?” 

His eyes take you in, gliding down the sheer black night robe you’re wearing, intentionally left untied. A hint of the roundness of your breasts winks at him through the open slit and the very outlines of your nipples tease through the translucent fabric. There is a flinch in his cock as more blood stirs down to fill his organ at the sight of your divine body. 

You decide to step up your game, placing your legs on the floor and spreading them to allow a glimpse of your ripe little peach. Syverson attempts to lift his head and get a better look while your giggles fill the room.

“This, my darling, is your punishment for one, being a complete asshole and embarrassing me in front of your friends-”

Syverson gives you a slow eye-roll and attempts to fight the cuffs again to no avail. “Je-sus, woman! You’re still at this? Fine. Remove these cuffs and I’ll give you my very ardent apology.” 

You chuckle and shake your head, rising from your chair and moving toward the bed. The pink silicone toy Syverson bought for you hangs from between your manicured fingernails as you wave it around casually. Sy follows your movements with the diligence of a trained special forces soldier, learning every possible detail as if you’re the enemy right now.

Might as well be.

“What are you doing, woman?” he speaks slowly, his voice holding a tad of a warning as you climb onto the bed and settle yourself between his feet. You sit straddled, ankles folded beneath your behind, letting your juicy cunt to be openly presented to the helpless man.

You can hear the low pitched growl rumbling in his chest, like an approaching storm. It makes your skin prickle and your lungs squeeze inside your ribs. Even bound to your bed, he effortlessly holds a brooding presence. A huge Texas bear, all muscles and dripping of control. Every time you sleep together, he pins you down and charges your body as if you’re some target that needed conquering. 

He never leaves you a fighting chance. Not up til now.

“Two,” you emphasize the word, lazily trailing the tip of the toy against your inner thigh. His eyes follow every movement, his jaw locked tightly. “- you left me wet and waiting last night, after giving me a very nice singing performance.”

The big man scowls as the vague memory of banging at your door starts sinking in. By the look on his face, he hates every single moment of it ever happening. 

Probably prefers blaming you rather than taking responsibility.

“Don’t be like that, Texas.” you lick your lips, offering him a cheerful smile. “You have a gorgeous singing voice.” 

“Final warnin’, kitten.”

You click your tongue and smile mischievously. Discarding the toy at his foot, you move on your knees, giving him a vixen grin before beginning to crawl forward. The delicate material of your gown caresses his naked skin as you snake your way between his open legs until you are at his pelvis, facing his very solid cock.

Your nimble fingers reach to grasp him, barely managing to circle his generous width. A low groan forms in his throat as you squeeze him roughly and run your hand up and down.

Syverson looks mesmerizing, the temptation to take a polaroid photo and have this moment forever imprinted in chemicals and light tickles your brain. More than anything, you ponder at the war that wages in his mind:the conflict between wanting back his control and enjoying the way your hand kneads him.

“This is an ego thing, isn’t it?” you ask him while licking your lips, inching your head closer and closer to the swollen head. 

His chest rises and sinks urgently as his breath becomes heavier. Involuntarily, he bounces his groin, his body begging for your mouth.

You allow the tip to graze you, collecting a few drops of pre-cum on the plush of your lips, letting it spread on the velvet flesh. “I bet they teach you how to withstand torture and questioning in case you’ll fall captive.”

“Not that type of torture,” he replies and then gasps as your tongue dips at the small hole in his cock. You push against it, tasting the salty drops before circling your tongue around the head. His teetering gasps and the way his biceps swell larger when he moves in his cuffs are enough to make you throb with arousal. 

No wonder Syverson likes to be the one in control; seeing someone so helpless and bound at your mercy is quite the aphrodisiac. This is especially true when it’s a man like Syverson, a brooding hulk who weighs more than twice your size. 

Ironically, Sy doesn’t even need to yell or use his fists to be intimidating. He can talk anyone into submission with his voice. He has this energy about him, a confidence that makes men, even who are just as big, to cower with fear. 

Even now, as he lies in captivity, his eyes are shooting daggers at you, sending you a clear message: “You’re goin’ to regret this, darlin’.”The punishment is probably going to involve you being unable to walk for a week, but you’re certain that it’s worth every second of him being subdued to your bed. 

Ever so slowly, your tongue glides down his length, tracing the ridges and the thick tendons that throb against your tongue. Motion-synced with the captain’s forced moans, you roll your tongue and slide it all the way back up.

You pause, staring at him as he pants, eyes hazy with lust, his abs sucked in. There’s a strained anticipation on his face, begging for the wet cavern of your mouth, but he never utters a word, only sucking in his lower lip with desperation. Your big army gruff doesn’t beg. 

He“ain’t no pooch like them city boys.”

Pumping his cock with one hand, you give him a mischievous grin while pressing your cheek against the muscle of his thigh, feeling it flex beneath your touch. Every sinew of his body is straining, anxious for pleasure and release. 

“You want to fuck my mouth, baby?” he releases a low growl, his eyes narrowing at you, his teeth grinding together. “You know I do, so put that damn mouth of yours to good use.”

Your nails trail around his thigh, tickling him feverishly. You watch how he jolts against your touch while one hand still squeezes his cock, making torturous pumps that are too slow and moderated to bring him closer to what he needs.  

“Yeah, you want your big fat cock inside my mouth?” you raise your face to his towering erection, your lips part open slowly. You leaned down to lick him up and down before biting onto him, only to watch how he spasms with ache.

“You know I do, kitten.”

To your disappointment, he still remains composed, despite the anger and arousal that spikes his blood. It infuriates you; you want him to beg, to say he is sorry for being such an idiot and for ruining your first night together ever since he returned. 

You squeeze him hard enough to make him grunt and descend to devour his cock again. Your lips wrap around him, tasting the bitter salt on the lush of your tongue before sucking him hard, just the way he likes it. Your throat relaxes to take him deeper, deep enough to hear those mellow groans and watch as he throws his head back, blissful at the way your warmth surrounds him.

You suck harder, working up and down his shaft, humming with him inside your mouth while your hand twirls and tugs at the base of his cock. The vibration of your hums makes him grunt, and those grunts and moans are the sweetest melodies to your ears. 

It’s easy to lose yourself in the sensation, in these sounds and the way he fills your mouth. You’re in love with him, your heart flutters in the thought of making him feel good, especially since you’re forced to spend so much time apart. It wrecks your heart every time, yet the thought of not having the captain in your life at all is unacceptable. 

He longed for you too, you are certain of it. And not just for your mouth and the way his cock reaches the edge of your throat while you pump in and out. He has a shit way of showing that, being such a hardass and saying “I don’t do romance, darlin’” while slapping your ass as if you were some broodmare. 

But the raging ocean in his eyes is enough to say all those words he could never utter.

You hear his low voice cracking and sense the swelling of his cock against your tongue. Quickly, you withdraw with a loud wet pop as his cock exits your mouth.

“Fuck!” you hear him utter, the cuffs dangling against the bar while he frowns at you. “Why did ya stop, kitten?”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you lift your head, allowing a sneer to linger on your lips like something out of a horror film. You arch your back and crawl on top of his body, your knees bracing themselves at each side of his wide frame, and your nails scratching the slight fur of his skin.

“You’re not coming in my mouth, dear.” 

You climb onto the big bear until finally, you are sitting on his chest. You slightly moan at the softness of his hairy chest that tickles the drenched spot between your thighs. Syverson grits his teeth, his jaw pushed forward, eyes red with rage altering between your naked breasts and your dominating glare. The soothing palm you press against his coarse cheek does nothing but humiliate him, which of course, makes you press your lips and coo at him tauntingly.

“Still not going to apologize?” 

“Untie me first and I’ll give you the apology you deserve,” he demands, still struggling to remain in control but you can see the fuzzy haze of arousal in his eyes, the way his lips part and his breath becomes rigid. He can smell you, he senses the wetness of your mound as you sit on his chest. It makes the animal in its cage become enraged.

You shake your head, sighing with false disappointment and lift yourself to your knees, carefully targeting yourself above his face with preparation. 

“I consider this a prize, Sy,” you murmur, looking down onto the slightly scarred face of your soldier who now returns a fascinated gaze to you. “I know how much you love to eat my pussy.”

He scoffs at you yet still licks his lips with anticipation as you lower yourself onto his inviting mouth. This was always his thing. There was no doubt that Syverson mastered the art of oral sex as another form of domination. Yes, he was an attentive lover. Making his lady squirm with ecstasy brought him joy, yet it was also another way he controlled you. 

This is going to be tricky, yet you’re devoted to turning his little game around. 

“You better make me come, Sy,” you warn, landing your pelvis onto his lips and releasing a deep moan as you feel the warmth of the captain’s skilful mouth around your mound. 

“F-u-c-k!” you utter loudly, placing your hands above the bars for leverage. His velvet tongue meets your cunt, drawing wet circles around the seam and collecting your juices before plunging into you with earnest devotion. You gasp and throw your head back, clenching yourself around him and riding his bearded jaw.

“Like it when I fuck your mouth, Captain?” you call out breathless, trying to mimic the way he speaks to you when he shoves his cock down your throat on the occasion and fucks your mouth. 

“Yes, like that, thrust your tongue inside me.” 

You gasp the command at him, moving harder, your clit brushing against the moustache of his beard, eliciting a tickling sensation that stimulates you to the point of losing the ability to speak coherent words. Yet, you claw your talons onto control, your knuckles turning white around the edge of the headboard as you fist it in your sweaty palms and buck your hips and ride his face.

“Yes!!! Fuck! Like this! Suck it, harder!” 

Even in his subdued position, Sy sustains every inch of mastery, eating you out as if you tasted of heaven. His tongue glides between your slit and your clit, rolling across your delicate nub. The sobs you make only urge him to increase the pressure around your clit and thrust his tongue harder. And just when you think you are close enough, the bastard mumbles something against your lips and the vibration of his bass throws you across the edge.

You come violently, slamming the headboard against the wall and pushing yourself hard onto his face. You can feel yourself soaking his beard yet he continues to lick you dry, sending slight aftershocks through your body.

Breathing heavily, you slowly climb off his face, looking at him as he glares at you darkly. You can see the little cracks appearing behind his eyes, his dominative nature stretching to the point of pain. He wasn’t amused to begin with but now he is close to being berserk. 

Still sitting on his chest, you turn your sweaty chin across your shoulder to glimpse at his tortured cock which now looks painfully red and desperate for some attention. 

“Are you done playing games?” 

There it is, the thing you’ve yearned for. Despair, helplessness. His brow is covered with sweat and his feet kick at the mattress. Oddly enough, you hardly care anymore if he apologizes or not. You know he won’t, it’s not because he doesn’t care, it’s because it’s all part of the battle. 

And if anything, Syverson hates losing.

“Not even close,” you answer while you crawl backwards, maintaining fierce eye contact with your enemy. Your glare returns the fight which is now escalated to a whole new level. Like a cougar ready for assault, you snake yourself to the starting point. Your hand meets with the pink toy, which is laid just where you left it.

His eyebrow crooks up, looking at you suspiciously and somewhat concerned. “What are you doing?”     

You hold the toy firmly in your hand while spreading your legs across each of his. Your index finger smoothes over the length of the silicone toy, flirting with the on and off button against your tip. 

“Remember how you told everyone at the bar that I fuck myself while you watch on Skype?”  

“Stop it,” he shoots a warning glare, his neck stretching up with frustration. You tilt your head, puckering your lips sweetly into a pout before flicking the toy on, letting it vibrate in your grasp. 

“For fuck’s sake, woman!” he growls and his eyes widen as you position the toy against your clit and instantly begin gasping as it brings you to incredible pleasure in less than a second.

“Oh god, baby!!!!” you gasp, closing your eyes and curling your toes. You massage your clit slowly, letting the vibration coax you just enough before the sensation turns painful. You slip the entire length of the toy inside you while screaming loud enough for your neighbours to hear.

“Sy!!!!” his name is on your lips while you drive the vibrator in and out, angling it at the right spots that make you mewl like a whore. Your eyes flick open to glimpse at the man who stares at you, eyes drenched with hopeless desire, mouth gaping open as his cock flinches with pain and need. The fact that he cannot have you right now is throwing the animal in him to a new length of frustration he never knew before. He squirms on the bed, throwing his head back and then shaking it at you, his lips pressed to a thin line beneath his messy beard. 

“Fuck this, I am sorry! Okay?!”

You pump the toy in and out and yip while your finger ticks the button for a higher speed. “Not… good… enough!” you cry out, feeling your walls shuddering. You look at Syverson’s cock, imagining it inside you instead, his wider girth, the warmth of his body. 

You need him, not a toy to replace him and still, you come, your body clenching around the soft silicone. 

“Will you stop with the games already!? I said I was sorry!” he shouts at you with his face on the verge of panic. His eyes were glossy with anxiety and misery. If you weren’t as desperate to make love to him, if only you didn’t miss to feel him, sunken at your depth, you would have been able to go for hours.  

You chuckle viciously, brushing a sticky strand of hair from your forehead while finally shifting yourself to straddle his hips. His chest heaves with eagerness, his breath loud and urgent as your fingers seizes his cock one more time and you lift your hips. He growls once you lubricate his erection against your slit before taking him into your core. 

Ever so slowly you let yourself fall on his shaft, taking him inch by inch, enjoying the pure harmony that releases from both of your throats. 

“Fuck!!!!” Sy shouts, his frustration finally being answered by the slippery heat of your taut canal. Not stopping, you sink down until the soft edge of your ass rests neatly on his tight balls. Until he is bottomed out inside you, pushed against the rim of your womb. 

Painfully engorged your organs throb against one another, blood pumping fast with fury, yet you remain still. You give Syverson one last cruel smirk of triumph.

“Oh come on, woman!!!!” he grunts and bucks his hips, making you rise with him as he lifts you from the bed with ease. “I’m sorry, okay? I love you, I didn’t mean to say that stupid thing. I am just a jarhead, I don’t know how to be different.”

The evil grin quickly fades from your face. For a second, your heart beats abnormally fast while your eyes feel moist. A joyous spasm runs through the knot in your stomach.

“You love me?”

Sy looks at you with a deep frown, the usual fierceness his eyes hold is now replaced by something as fragile as a butterfly wing. You know better than to touch it. 

He never said it before, not to you, not to any other woman.   

You are flooded by a whirlpool of emotions, hitting you all at once, assaulting your heart and your loins. Your senses are at a complete loss, forgetting all about the stupid battle for control. You want nothing but to have him, to fuck him until you cry out of love. Lifting yourself up, you begin to ride him with incredible force. Hips rising up and down on his girth, nails digging into his torso and sliding up his chest.

“Sy!” You cry out his name, feeling full of him. He groans with amazement, finally praised by the sweetness of your body which he achingly longed for in months.

“Yes, baby,” he calls for you, jerking his hips to meet you as you sink down and throw your head back. “Ride me, fuck me, darlin’.”  

You roll your hips and dance on his cock vigorously, your back arching while you sing with ecstasy. His cock is swelling inside you, locked between your closing walls as they attempt to drain him of everything he has. You know it won’t last long yet right now you don’t care, you don’t care if he comes without you. 

Because he loves you, the warmth that spreads from your heart onward is just as good. 

Yet still, you come, grinding your clit against his pubic bone while tears spring down your cheeks. You hear his voice calling your name in a blur, throwing an onslaught of praises before he lifts you up with his body.

All spent, you collapse flat onto his body, humming to yourself as the hot sprout of his semen fills your womb. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the beating drum within while your fingers draw circles onto his skin.

“I love you,” you say it back, slightly tilting your head to meet his eyes. He smiles at you relaxed, finally released, his breath is still irregular, small gasps of air break between his lips.

“Now uncuff me, kitten, let’s get some breakfast.”

You lift your head and slide further up so your face is levelled with his, your fingers play with his beard while you observe him.

“I am not sure I am done switching just yet.”

_____________________________________________________

disclaimer: I don’t own Sand Castle or Captain Syverson

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

Ch. 8 Creepypastas x Fem! reader

Sorry I've been gone for so long. My grandfather died a month ago and I wasn't in the right mindset to write. But I'm back and ill do my best. Thank you all for your patients. Anyway, enjoy<3

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As the week progressed, the girl found that it was the slightest bit easier to read through Masky's facade. Though that did not mean that she could thoroughly read him quite yet, she made it a challenge that eventually she would. Masky himself became lenient at first as to mind her injuries. But the moment she started to heal, it was all back to the ruthless nature of his work. Finally, when the week ended, she got informed that someone else was going to teach her. That person turned out to be Ben, the blond-headed boy that seemed too eager to meet her.

An early sensation lurked in the air the moment she woke up, groggily walking to the bathroom and taking a well-deserved shower. The feeling of all of the previous days' dirt and grime washing off her punctured flesh was refreshing. Her mind was finally clear, able to freely think and dwell on her current predicament without any outside interference. The hot water trickled down her naked body, soothing her as she thought of any way she could escape. But no matter how hard she thought, deep down she knew that the only way she could truly leave was to stay a little longer to devise a plausible plan.

Sadness overtook her body, hot tears streaming down her already wet face intertwining with the water droplets from the showerhead. She'd been able to withhold her tears for a while now, not wanting to give those bastards the satisfaction. But as her current position set in her mind once more, she couldn't hold it in. It was like a never-ending loop. After being rudely introduced and forced to spend a week being trained to the bone by two different killers, she had to repeat the process with another. It felt like her own personal hell.

Feeling the scalding hot water turn cold was an indicator that it was time to get ready. Not giving a damn if she was late. Stepping out of the shower with a huff, she looked at herself in the full-body mirror. Steam covered its surface from head to toe. Though, no matter how blurry, the rough outline of all the large scars, cuts and a few red bruises that littered her body were still very much visible. The feeling and texture of her once somewhat clear skin was now a distant memory in her mind. Slowly tracing all of the scars with the tip of the rugged fingers she winced when she made contact with a few of the most recent injuries.

Getting dressed in the same greyish jump-suit she has been washing and wearing for the last few days, she went to eat breakfast. But before leaving her bedroom she looked at the nightstand, there laid the old pocket watch he gave her. For some reason, he didn't want to take it when she offered it back. Shrugging her shoulders she put it in her right pocket and headed downstairs. Reaching the kitchen, noticing that Masky must have left early. Not paying any mind to his disappearance she carried on with her day. Eating the meal she prepared for herself. Sitting there on the dining table, in total silence, patiently staring at the clock. Ben still hadn't arrived. He was already ten minutes late, to begin with, which was a significant tonal shift from Masky, who was extremely punctual and despised tardiness. After what felt like hours, a loud crash was heard that made the girl's ears perk up as she ran to the living room. Their laying spread eagle, on the front of the old television, was none other than Ben.

" What happened, how did you get in here?" The girl quickly said while helping him up. " Dammit, forgot how small the damn television was." He said under his breath, ignoring her previous question. Getting on his feet he brushed himself off giving the girl a better look. Unlike the other two men, he was significantly shorter, 162 to 165 cm or 5'4-5'5 feet tall. Medium length golden hair under a long green hat and sharp pointy elf-like ears. His pale white skin looked ceramic, almost like a doll's and thin lips with a button nose. He seemed considerably young, but she assumed that he most likely was about eighteen years of age. Though, what caught her attention were his round black eyes that had a speck of red in them that acted as pupils. He was dressed as an elf, with his bright green tunic, forest green pants and leather belt neatly tied around his waist that held a small satchel type bag.

Looking in her direction he flashed her a creepy smile that showed off his white teeth. The girl didn't know how to react to his sudden action, as she felt discomfort all around her body, shifting her weight awkwardly she chose to ask him again. " How the hell did you manage to get in here without me hearing you?" " Well, I did the same thing I'm gonna' be teaching you today. Sorcery or magic. Whatever word floats your boat." " Magic? As in witchcraft, like spells and potions?" " Yup. I mean I know Jack already told you this so I don't know why you're so shocked." He snickered, it sounded distorted. " Yeah, I remember but I didn't actually expect-not that I didn't think that it would be magic-it is just that this is all so strange, I can't believe it." " Believe it, cuz I'm gonna' be teaching ya some spells. Follow me now out the back door." He spoke loudly, shaking his hands in a flamboyant manner.

Walking swiftly to the kitchen towards the back door. The girl was visibly confused as she followed suit. Why did they have to go through the back door, it was all quite strange. Stepping out, she noticed the rather large, wooden table a few meters in front of them. Its surface is covered in all kinds of trinkets, herbs and plants. " What's all of this for?" She said, approaching the table. "I got Masky to set it up before he left, we're gonna be needing some of this stuff so I can show you the ropes and basically help you understand the basics of making potions. A skill you'd need for survival." He answered while picking up a bunch of the items off the table and stuffing them in the bag. " Oh, what do we have here?" He said excitedly under his breath " Is it Raskovnik? My god it is. I know what i'll be teaching you first now, don't I. '' He started with a laugh as he made his way towards the trees. " Where are we going now?" " To the brewery. Do you really think you will be making risky positions in front of the cabin? You humans are actually the dumbest creatures."

The girl's face scrunched up in annoyance but still kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to try and argue with these people. Biting down on her tongue she got drawn in by the scenery like most times she was out in the forest. Autom was soon approaching so the wind had started to pick up the past few days, it made the multicoloured leaves on the trees dance as it passed. It calmed her as it passed through her body. Taking in a large breath she smiled and carried on behind Ben. Dogging trees and branches as there was no pathway in this part of the forest.

" Did you get the plant?" Ben spoke up after a while, cutting the calm silence. " Sorry, what?" " Were you the one that got the Raskovnik?" He repeated the question louder. " Oh, well yeah. I got it a while back as a part of my training with Masky." She replied quickly walking to his side. " Figures. Maskys is the type to make others do his dirty work." He muttered bitterly. But the girl was still able to hear it. " So you have a bad relationship with him?" " You could say that. Most of us do. The scumbag." The air started to tense. " I guess you could call him that. But he's not always that bad, he has his moments I guess." " Not that bad? Tell me, how did you manage to get that big ass gash on your neck." He harshly replied, pointing his leather-gloved hand to her neck. She quickly covered it and looked to the side. Not responding. " As I said, he's an absolute scumbag." " Well if it isn't stepping over a boundary, mind telling me why he's so bad." " Well, to begin with, he's a sadistic prick that only cares for himself. He broke into my house and stole some of the VERY rear herbs that took me YEARS to collect. And worst of all, he's the dog of The Operator." His face darkened when he mentioned The Operator's name. " The Operator? Whos that?" The girl quickly asked, lowering her hand and looking at him with a confused look on her face. " He's one of the most powerful beings to even exist. The embodiment of evil." " So like the devil?" " No, he's not the devil, the devil is a different being, but he's still terrifying." " Why do they call him The Operator then?" " Well, like. I don't really know how to explain this to you but, imagine this forest being a very large city. Y’know how every city has a mayor or someone in charge that leads it. Well, that's what The Operator really is. The Operator isn't his real name but a nickname given to him."

With that they finally stepped into a small grass filled clearing where in the middle, was a very small cottage covered in vines, plants and flowers. The old wood that it was made of was held up the multitude of plants, securing it firmly. The half-rounded door was nicely placed in the front, a yellow brick pathway leading to it, with a square window to the side. They quickly approached the door, the girl's breath taken by the beauty. The inside itself was small, shelves were on every side of the walks, each holding a plethora of books, trinkets, herbs and plants. It was relatively messy but still easy to walk in. A cauldron was in the middle of the room with a desk stacked with papers, pens, and scrolls.

Placing the Rascovnik and emptying his bag on the desk, Ben looked at the girl. " So let's begin I guess." He said walking to the medium-sized cauldron. " What are we going to do exactly?" She quickly asked as her eyes followed him, as he walked around the cottage collecting different ingredients and placing them on the desk. " Well, you're not going to be doing anything, just taking notes." Tossing a notepad at her. " While I prepare something and explain the different things you'll need to know." " Yeah that's great but am I going to be quizzed the same way Masky quizzed me because I need to know what I should expect." She said frantically, firmly grasping the notepad to her chest. " Nah, you're not. I don't do quizzes or tests, I like doing things spontaneously y'know. And plus taking notes will help you understand things more, so just write down herb and spell names, important details and whatever else will help ya remember. K?" " Ok, I guess." Anxiety began to dwell in her mind, as she looked around. " Readdy?" He said walking in front of the cauldron, giving her a slightly crooked reassuring smile.

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 16

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

16.

They rode through the night, and arrived in Santo Padre in the early morning. EZ had seemed to find it hard keeping his place in the back of the caravan; eager to get back to his brother. Nina, seated behind him, felt the same. In her backpack was the picture of her and Jax, along with the few belongings she’d already brought there and back again once. She had the journal as well; knowing that the day she was meant to part with it hadn’t come yet. The sun was just beginning to show over the top of the buildings, when the caravan split up at the city limit. Nina promised Bishop she would be at the clubhouse in the evening; and he gave EZ stern instructions to keep his eyes on her at all times. “Palo gave us until tomorrow night, to let him know what we wanna do", he said. “But I’m not taking any chances". Nina nodded, and EZ promised to keep her safe, until she was back at the scrapyard.

EZ drove them to Felipe’s house, where Angel had been holed up for the last few days; and Nina almost sprang from his bike before he came to a full halt, to run for the front door. Before she could reach for the doorknob, Felipe opened, and pulled her in for a warm embrace. “I’m so happy you’re here, mijita”, he said. EZ came up behind Nina, and Felipe released her from his arms. “He’s not here…”. Nina felt her heart drop, and EZ was already moving back towards his bike. “Did he say which tunnel…?”, he asked. “No, EZ… He went to see your mother”, Felipe said. “But…”, EZ began; probably thinking about the urn of ashes set up in the house. “The cemetery. He said he wanted to be alone… Stole the keys to my truck”, Felipe said. EZ got on his bike. “Nina!”, he called after her. “Yeah…”, she replied, and ran over to get on behind him.

The ride to the cemetery took a lot less time than it probably should have. Nina had never seen EZ drive faster; and she clambered to his waist to keep from feeling like she was about to fly off the seat. It was still too early for many visitors to the graves. EZ pulled up next to Felipe’s truck, which was the only other vehicle on the lot, and very much double parked; and then led Nina down a path flanked by gravestones and mausoleums. “It’s down here”, he muttered. Nina grabbed his wrist. “I’ll go… I should do it”, she said. EZ nodded, and pointed in the direction she needed to head down.

There was an eerie quietness to the graveyard; even more than what one would expect from a place like it. She heard the sound of some glass shattering, and jolted her head in the direction it had come from. “Oh shit… sorry, mamá”, Angel’s voice muttered. Nina quietly made her way towards where she’d heard his voice; her heart in her throat. She almost tripped over a Dos Equis beer bottle, and saw remnants of a cigarette just next to it. A little further down the path lay another bottle; and Nina was beginning to feel like she was in a bad version of Hansel and Gretel. “Fucking Nina…”, Angel said, from just around the corner of a mausoleum. “La amaba, mamá. She makes this cute face when she has her first sip of coffee in the morning. And when she’s drunk, she snores, but it sounds like bees living in her nose; it’s so funny… You would have loved her too. Even though she can’t cook… She’s smart, and funny, and so fucking beautiful; I mean her ass is just… sorry”. Finally reaching Marisol Reyes’ gravestone, Nina found Angel standing in front of it; a beer in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. “And I’m a fucking idiot, I know… I mean, how could someone like her ever… no la merezco. I’m not the kind of man to get lucky like that. EZ, maybe; he’s got that perfect thing going for him; but me… pfft…”. He took a swig of his beer.

“Angel…”, Nina said softly. Angel turned around; his eyes wide. “Nina? What are you doing here?”, he said. She took a hesitant step forward. “I came back”, she said, and shrugged slightly. “I didn’t want to leave, but I had to… I’m sorry”.

Angel took a wobbly step towards her; he was clearly well-oiled. Nina held out her hands, as if she could catch his weight if he fell. “You have to leave. Palo knows…”. “I know… But you don’t have to worry. Bishop has a plan”, Nina said. Angel laughed sarcastically. “Bishop… El jefe… He always knows what to do, don’t he…?”, he said. “Like when he made me treat you like shit in front of everyone”. His face suddenly dropped. “Is that why you left? Because I…”. “No, Angel…”, Nina said, and reached for his hand. She took the beer from it, and set it down on the ground; before putting his palm to her cheek. “That had nothing to do with you… Everything I said; it was just because I needed to push you away… and I’m so sorry”. “What happened. Why did I lose you?”, Angel rasped. His eyes were welling up, and he gently stroked her temple with his thumb. “I’ll tell you everything, I swear…”, Nina said, and braced her hands against his chest, as he stumbled forwards. “But first, you need to sober up”. “But if I do, maybe you’ll go away again. What if you’re just…”, Angel began. Nina took the cigarette he was holding, and threw it on the ground; before taking his wrists to wrap his arms around her. She cupped his face. “I’m here… and I’m not going anywhere, unless you ask me to leave”.

Angel let out a groaning sigh, and lowered his head to bury his face in the crook of her neck. “I love you… I fucking love you, ma’”, he said, and pulled his head back again. “Nina?”. “Yeah?”, she smiled. “I love you”. “I love you too, Angel”, Nina chuckled. “Come on…”. She looked towards the gravestone belonging to Marisol Reyes, and sent a warm thought to the woman who had had given birth one of the most important people in her life. It was a weird déjà vu, but this time she was more optimistic.

Pulling his arm around her shoulders, Nina led Angel back towards the parking lot. EZ met them by the truck. Angel’s face lit up. “Ezekiel! Nina is back”, he said. “I know. I brought her here”, EZ smiled. Angel’s expression fell into a frown. “That was a fucking shit idea. She’s not safe…”, he said. “I’ll be fine, papi. Let’s get you home”, Nina said. Angel chuckled. “She called me papi…”.

Nina opened the door to the truck, and made Angel get in the passenger seat. “Your mom’s grave is gonna require a little cleanup”, she muttered to EZ. “Unless she liked beer bottles as decorations”.

---

Nina drove Angel back to his house in Felipe’s truck. EZ drove in front of them, to make sure Nina was safe; and probably to keep an eye on his drunk brother. Between the two of them, Nina and EZ managed to get Angel inside the house, without making his neighbors stare too much, on their ways to work.

Once inside, Angel was about to head for the bedroom, when Nina pulled at his arm to get him to follow her towards the bathroom. “Shower”, she ordered. EZ furrowed his brows. “Nina, I love my brother, but I don’t need to see his naked ass”, he smiled. “You’re jealous of all this cake”, Angel said. Nina rolled her eyes. “More like pancake”, she said, and patted his behind; to get him through the door. “Coffee…”, she muttered to EZ, who nodded, and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Angel stood like a lost lamb in the middle of the bathroom. “Strip”, Nina said. Angel smirked leeringly. “Take your clothes of, and get in the shower, Don Juan”, she sighed, and pushed his flannel of his shoulders. Angel managed to take off his t-shirt himself, while Nina unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled them down his long legs, along with his boxers. Face to face with his semi-hardon – something she was surprised he could even manage in his current state – for a split second she admittedly considered taking advantage of the situation. Hearing EZ scramble around in the kitchen, she cleared her throat, and got up to stand again.

Angel stepped into the shower, and turned on the water. Nina quickly shed her clothes, and went in with him. “I know I’m drunk, but are you naked in the shower with me right now?”, Angel chuckled. “Yup…”, Nina said, and squirted some shower-gel into her hand. “Why?”, he asked. “Because you smell like a brewery, and you don’t really seem to be in a state to be able to handle this getting clean-thing on your own”.

She rubbed her hands together to form lather, and began washing Angel’s chest. Angel wiggled his brows suggestively, and leaned down to try for a kiss. “No…”, Nina said, and stepped out of the shower to get his toothbrush. Putting some paste on it, she went back under the cascading water; handing the brush to Angel. “Brush… thoroughly!”, she said. Angel rolled his eyes, took the toothbrush; and while she made him turn around, he began brushing his teeth. Nina got some more shower-gel, and washed his back; moving her hands under his arms to get him clean. “Tickles…”, Angel chuckled. “Uh huh…”, Nina muttered, and washed her way down to his bottom; giving them a quick once over with the soap, and trying to avoid letting her hands wander.

Next up was shampoo. Nina took the toothbrush from Angel, and threw it in the sink; not wanting to have to get out of the shower again. Angel was a bit lopsided in his drunkenness, and she was worried he’d fall and hurt himself. She reached up to wash Angel’s heavily gelled hair – he’d probably not showered in days, and had clearly just added more gel each morning – and began running her fingers through his locks. She remembered that she hadn’t brought any clean clothes for either of them. “EZ!”, she called out. “Is there a problem?”, EZ replied from outside the door. “Yes. She’s forcibly washing me!”, Angel yelled. “Shut up”, Nina said. “Could you get some clean boxers for Angel, and my backpack by the front door?”. “You want me to go through his underwear?”, EZ groaned. “It’s either that, or watch his naked ass walk through the house”, Nina replied. “Fine…”, EZ said. She heard him move towards the bedroom.

Her arms were beginning to hurt from having to reach for Angel’s head. “Knees, please”, she said. “Knees-please…”, Angel chuckled, and got down to sit on his heels. Nina began massaging his skull again, when suddenly, Angel leaned forward, and buried his face in the apex of her thighs. “Angel, not now…”, Nina gasped. Apparently, Angel didn’t hear her over the sound of the shower – or he simply didn’t care – because his tongue somehow found it’s way to her clit, and began flicking against it. He moaned at the taste of her, and a delicious tingling sensation spread through Nina’s body. She had to brace herself against his shoulders to keep from falling. “Fuck, mami…”, Angel growled. “You like this?”. “Yes… No! You have to…”, Nina whimpered. Angel put his hands on her butt, and made a languid stroke between her lower lips; and Nina had to grind her teeth to keep from moaning loudly. “Fuck, yes…”, she breathed.

There was a knock at the door. “Nina!”, EZ called out. “No…! I mean, yes”, Nina cried out. “Give me a second…”. She tried to tear herself away from Angel’s face, but he wouldn’t let go. In the end, she smacked him over the back of the head. “Ow!”, he grunted, and leaned back with a confused look on his face. Nina frowned at him, and stepped out of the shower. She went over to the door, and cracked it open; reaching out her hand. EZ placed the strap of her backpack in her hand, and after she’d pulled it inside, she reached for Angel’s underwear. She felt EZ holding the boxers out with one finger, and nabbed them quickly, before closing the door again. When she turned around, she found Angel looking down at his now fully hard cock, with a bright grin on his face. He began stroking himself, like a teenager recently discovering the pleasures of masturbation; and Nina stepped over to pull at his arm. “No!”, she chided. “Not now. Your brother is just outside”. “But…”, Angel began. “Let go of your penis, Angel”, Nina said, and looked at him with as stern an expression as she could manage. “Don’t make me turn on the cold water…”.

Angel groaned, and carefully got to his feet; to get out of the shower. Nina turned off the water, threw a towel at him, and quickly dried herself off with another; avoiding touching her vaginal area too much, as she was still sensitive. She put on a bra and some panties, and then threw on the first top and pair of shorts she found in her bag. Angel managed to put on his boxers himself, without even getting them back to front; and Nina smiled at the endearingly disappointed expression on his face, as he looked down at the tent he was pitching on the front of them. “Later, papi”, she promised, and got on her toes, to kiss his cheek. They’d yet to share a real kiss since her return; but she wanted to save it for a time where Angel wasn’t drunk off his ass.

When she opened the door to the living room, EZ was luckily too engulfed in a baseball game on the flatscreen, to notice his brother’s erectile predicament. Nina led Angel in front of her into the bedroom, and got him to lay down on the bed. While she pulled the covers over him, EZ came up behind her with a steaming mug in his hands. “His coffee”, he said. “No, this is for me”, she said, and took the mug. “He needs to sleep”. EZ chuckled at the sight of his 6’3 brother snuggled up under the covers like a toddler. He was already dozing off. “Don’t you wanna get a couple of hours too?”, he said quietly. “We drove through the night”. Nina took a big gulp of coffee. “I’ll be fine”, she muttered. “Nina…”, EZ said, and reached for the mug in her hands. Nina looked at him with meaningful eyes. “Ezekiel, I love you; but if you take away this mug, I might break your fingers”. EZ held up his hands in defense. “Sorry… Caffeinate all you want”, he chuckled. “I’m gonna hit the couch for a while. All the doors are locked, and Angel keeps a squirt gun under the bed”. “That’ll teach Palo”, Nina grunted. “I was kidding”, EZ smiled. “You got your .38?”. Nina sprang for the bathroom, and came back with the bag in hand. She dug the gun out of the front pocket, and laid it down on the bedside table. “All set. Go sleep”, she said. Angel let out a small snore, and they both looked at him. He was out cold. “Thank you for coming back”, EZ said, and put a hand on Nina’s shoulder. “Thanks for bringing me back”, she replied.

Ezekiel went back into the living room, and Nina pulled the double doors almost closed; with just a small gap, in case she needed to call EZ for help. She sat down on the edge of the bed, and finished her coffee in silence. All that was heard was the sounds of Angel’s drunken snores – Who’s got bees living in their nose now?, she thought to herself – and some birds in the tree outside. Suddenly, Angel began moving his hand around the empty side of the bed, and his formerly calm expression turned into a frown. Nina quickly drank her last sip of coffee, and set down the mug on the bedside table next to the gun. Then she laid down on the bed, and pulled Angel’s searching hand around her waist. Angel immediately settled, and burrowed against her; his expression once again at peace.

Nina laid for a long time, just looking at the man she loved. After a while, her exhaustion won over the caffeine streaming through her system, and she fell asleep.

---

When she woke, the light had shifted in the room; letting her know that it was probably the afternoon. Nina turned her head, and found Angel looking at her intently. His arm was still locked around her waist, as if he was scared she would run away if he released her. “Hi…”, Nina whispered. Angel didn’t reply, but simply pulled her impossibly closer, and then caught her lips in a demanding kiss. It wasn’t a lustful kiss, he just seemed to crave a connection with her; and Nina let him take from her what he needed. She needed it too. Their tongues met, and the taste of Angel reignited something in her. She felt herself light up inside.

After a while, Nina felt her cheeks getting wet, and she pulled back, and realized the tears there weren’t just her own. “Are you home?”, Angel breathed. “Yeah. I’m home”, Nina smiled. “I love you… And I’m so sorry”. Angel shook his head fervently. “No, querida…”, he said, and pulled her in for another short kiss. “Te amo, ok? No apologies”. His eyes were full of love, and yet dull; as if some part of him had died. Nina suspected she knew what that part was, and it was something she couldn’t give him back. Only the MC could.

She was about to speak, when she heard scrambling from the living room. Angel frowned. “EZ”, Nina muttered. A smile ghosted Angel’s face. “Of course it is…”, he said. Nina pulled herself from his embrace, and got out of the bed. She went into the living room, where EZ was cleaning up. It wasn’t until then, that she noticed the house was more cluttered than usual. There were several filled ashtrays, and empty bottles and dirty glasses littered both the coffee table and the work bench – even the floor had beer cans strewn about, next to empty packets of cigarettes. She felt as if she’d been punched in the chest, and her heart skipped several beats at the state of the place. “I did this…”, she croaked. “How could I let him think…”. Tears began streaming down her cheeks again. EZ put down the trash-bag he was in the process of filling; and stepped over to pull her in for a hug. “No… no, you didn’t”, he said, and rubbed her back soothingly.

“Hands of my woman, hermano”, Angel said from the doorway; dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. There was a mischievous twang to his voice, and a slight smirk on his face. EZ smiled, and kissed the top of Nina’s head, before letting her go, and picking the trash-bag up again. “Just cleaning up your mess, big brother”, he jeered. “Ouch…”, Angel said. He walked over to EZ, and took the bag from him. “I got it from here… Thanks”. That thanks was deeper than just gratefulness for picking up his trash. “You’re welcome”, EZ said. “You don’t have to stay. I’m good”, Angel said. EZ frowned slightly. “Bishop told me to…”, he began. Angel scoffed, and began picking up bottles from the work bench. “Look, I need to keep an eye on Nina, until she goes back to the yard tonight”. “She’s not going back there”, Angel said. EZ and Nina looked at each other. “Yeah, I am…”, Nina said. “Angel, I have to”. Angel shook his head. “Whatever. We’ll talk about this later”, he said. “You can go, EZ. I got this”. “The Vatos are…”, EZ began. Angel walked over to the couch, and pulled out what Nina recognized as an AK47 from under it. “I turned in my patch, not my guns. I can take care of my girl”, he declared. “Angel!”, Nina exclaimed. Angel’s expression softened. “Look… We’ll be fine. I’ll call you, yeah? Go… pick flowers with your girlfriend”, he sighed. Nothing else needed to be said, and Nina gave EZ a short nod to let him know shewould call him, even if Angel didn’t. EZ gave them both a half smile, and quietly left the house.

They cleaned up in silence for a while. Suddenly it was awkward to lock eyes, as if neither of them knew what to say. “You don’t gotta do this, ma’”, Angel finally said. “This is my mess”. “It’s mine too”, Nina replied. “And it’s our home…”. She instantly felt her cheeks burn at her own words, and was terrified at meeting Angel’s eyes. She swallowed thickly, and quickly headed towards the kitchen, for no particular reason other than wanting to get away from his gaze. She heard him come up behind her, and she turned her attention to filling the dishwasher with dirty glasses. “Mami… Nina”, he said, and grabbed her by the waist; making her turn around. He cupped her face. “This is our home. Mine and yours… But you gotta tell me why you left”. She met his eyes, and saw that he meant every word he was saying. She was homehere, and Angel deserved to know why she’d left that home with nothing but a bogus excuse. “Can we go sit down?”, she croaked. “It’s kind of a long story”.

Angel kissed her forehead, and took her hand, leading her back into the living room, to sit on the couch. Nina took a deep breath. “The day I left, Daniella came to the yard to talk to me. She found my brother’s journal…”. The memory of what Daniella had threatened to do. “She said she’d tell Vatos Malditos about my nephews, if I didn’t break it off with you… Palo would have killed them, as revenge for his cousin. I couldn’t let him do that”. Angel’s eyes widened in rage. “She fucking what?”, he growled. “Are those kids ok?”. “They’re fine”, Nina said. “She didn’t sell them out, because I did what she told me to… Or maybe she just didn’t have a chance, before…”. Angel nodded; but his expression didn’t soften. “I can’t believe I felt fucking guilty for letting her get killed like that. That bitch deserved it!”, he said. Nina squeezed his hand. “It shouldn’t have happened like that; and I’m sorry you had to be there for it. She paid for my mistake; what I did to Gael”. She sighed, and swallowed thickly. “And so will the club, if I don’t help them go through with Bishop’s plan”.

Angel got out a cigarette and lit it; taking a deep draw, before handing it to Nina. She took a huff herself, and handed it back. “So what’s Bish’s great plan?”, Angel grunted. “They know the snitch is a woman”, Nina said. Angel nodded; EZ had probably told him. “And he wants to hand the snitch over, pretending she’s me… They’ll bring me to Palo, and then switch her for me last minute”. “That’s a shit plan”, Angel said. “It’s too dangerous”. “Yeah… I agree”, Nina said. “But until someone figures out something else… I mean, I don’t want another woman dying for me. Even if she is a rat”. “So we leave…”, Angel said. “Get the fuck out of here; go north. Further than Charming… Just drive”. “No, Angel. I have to finish this, one way or another”, Nina said.

They sat in silence for a long moment. “I need to go to the clubhouse tonight”, Nina said. “I get it if you can’t…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. Her heart broke at Angel’s leaving the Mayans. The club was such a big part of who he was. “Nah, it’s fine. I was gonna go have Hank black out my ink, anyway”, Angel muttered, and ran his fingers over the MAYANS tattoo on his lower arm. He seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, before clenching his fist. “Are you sure you want to do that?”, Nina said quietly. “You love the MC; those guys are your brothers…”. “I was one shot of tequila away from whipping out my dick, and pissing all over the patch; in front of everyone”, Angel said. “I’m done. They don’t want me there”.

He seemed strangely grey; as if all color had left his being. Nina took his hand, and kissed his knuckles. “I’m sorry”, she whispered. “I made you do that. You wouldn’t have left, if I didn’t…”. “Please stop apologizing. I don’t blame you, cuervo… I blame Daniella. I fucking hate that bitch… She took you away from me; and now I can’t even punish her for it anymore”, Angel said, taking an angry huff of his cigarette. “And Palo… he killed her, thinking she was you. He was going to take you away as well. If I ever get the chance, I’m gonna end him”.

Hate was flowing through Angel’s entire being. He radiated rage and lust for revenge; and Nina almost didn’t recognize him. She chewed her lips, and made a decision. “I want you to meet my brother”, she said. “What are you talking about?”, Angel grunted. Nina got up, went into the bedroom, and dug out Jackson’s journal from her bag. She flicked through the pages to find the passage she wanted to show Angel, before going back to sit down next to him on the couch. “Please read this”, she said, and pressed the journal into his hand. He frowned at her; but she put her hand on his cheek, and looked meaningfully at him. “Please… For me”. Angel sighed, and looked down at the page. Nina looked at his face, as his eyes scanned the words. “It's hard not to hate. People, things, institutions; when they break your spirit and take pleasure in watching you bleed, hate is the only feeling that makes sense. But I know what hate does to a man, tears him apart, turn him into something he's not, something he promised himself that he'd never become. He loses himself, and along with that; he loses his ability to treasure the things in life that brings him joy…”.

It looked like Angel read the passage several times, trying to make sense of what Nina was trying to tell him, before he leaned back in his seat; the journal still in his hands. Nina took the cigarette from him, and took a huff, before stubbing it out in an ashtray. “I guess smart runs in your family”, Angel muttered, and smiled slightly at her. “This shit tore me apart, Nina. And I get what your brother was trying to say, but I can’t stop hating Daniella for what she did to us… And hating Palo; ma’, that’s just in my bones. He wants you dead; so, he’s gotta go”. Nina shrugged defeatedly. “I can’t make you stop hating… I just think that maybe letting some love back inside you will dull it out”, she said. “Make you whole again”. “I love you”, Angel said, and reached over to stroke her cheek. Nina smiled. “I know… But the love you guys share in the club… You need that too”.

Angel sighed heavily. “I don’t know… I didn’t leave it on very good terms with them”. Nina put her legs over his thigs, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Just come with me tonight. Whatever happens, happens… But you and me, that’s concrete”. Angel put his arms around her waist, and pulled her up to sit on his lap properly. He kissed her neck. “Fucking endgame, mami”, he smiled; before something a bit more sinister lit up his eyes. “What?”, Nina said; knowing exactly what. “You didn’t let me finish what I started in the shower this morning”, he said. “And you’re not going to yet”, Nina declared. “There’s no way I’m having sex in this nasty ass house, before it’s clean!”. Angel almost threw her back on the couch, and got to his feet. “Let’s fucking clean!”.

---

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Aaaaa! First of all, congratulations lovee!!! So exciting! 200 and many many more to come! 😍😍 I hope im not too late, if I am just yeet me out of that askbox, but otherwise: 🥰, Shanks, female reader and good morning kisses (14) thank you so much dear! Am already hyped for all the kisses 😍👌🏻

(Hazel I hope this came out for your liking!)

14. Good morning kisses.

The loud mumbling beside you was what woke you up that morning. One eye slowly creaked open, vision adjusting to the dim light from the window, as you looked over to the spot next to you. You, still mostly asleep, watched as the figure next to you slung his arm over his eyes and groaned to himself. 

Ah yes, the consequences of his own actions. 

He groaned before hissing out a breath, unfolding his arm from his face and his body slowly slumped upwards. You lay still, more awake at this point, and pretended to still be asleep. He felt his face, his fingers clenched at the bridge of his nose, no doubt his head rocking his whole world upside down as his red shag of hair was tousled in every which direction. A quiet curse left from his lips as he used his only arm to throw back the sheets on him and make his way on his feet. 

He walked across the room with a slight stumble in his step as he made his way to the two of your's private bathroom, once the door shut you sat up and rolled your eyes. You swore one day his liver's just going to explode with how he treats alcohol, and especially after last night. 

The evening that the crew managed to land on the island a festival was being held all throughout the city. Fireworks, stage performances, all types of music, and more notably booze and even more booze. So being the bunch of alcoholics the Red Haired pirates are, of course the crew gladly took part. As everyone around you got toasted you and Benn being the smart responsible ones in your crew (and because the two of you enjoyed the absolute delight watching the crew regretting their actions the next day was) the two of you would always not drink as much, but to at least have a buzz throughout the drunk escapades. 

Well and if anyone was the biggest alcoholic among the crew, everyone knows it's Shanks. 

 All throughout the night he laughed and sang along with the music that played as he drank one after another after another. At one point with you on his lap he chugged down one after another and another until you gave up and lost count, but the heated uncalculated kisses pressed to your neck only then to be drunk serenading to you minutes later was the the tell tale of what type of night you'd be having. (But the part when Benm dunked Yasopp with a whiskey barrel for being an absolute dick, that was unexpected and you got a real kick out of that.)

You were caught out of your thoughts as the doorknobs jiggle grabbed your attention, you quickly darted back to lie back down and go back to pretending you were lost in peaceful dreams before the door opened and your lover trudged his way back to your shared bed. A blunt force hit your dresser, then the floor.

"Ah shit." You peeked open one eye to take a curious look. Shanks hissed another curse through his teeth as his body slumped up the wood his only arm clutched onto his knee. "...damn thing always in my fucking way." He sighed before flaring his nostrils and looking towards your direction, which you quickly closed your eyes before he saw you gawking at him. 

Hearing the pop in his joints, he made his way off the bed and plopped back in his spot next to you, and after a few silent moments his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close to him, his chin rested in the crook of your neck. His heartbeat remained a steady rhythm as his chest was pressed to yours, it relaxed you long enough to not take notice for a while he still reeked of booze. 

For a while. 

Once you did notice you instantly dropped the sleeping act. 

"Ugh, Shanks go shower!" You pushed him away from his ever so loving embrace. He looked at you and blinked at you confused a few times. "Well good morning Sleeping Beauty, I thought it was the kiss that was supposed to wake the princess up, not hugs." 

"Well it did. You smell like a whole bar spilled on you!" He took a few good sniffs at himself, cocking his eyebrow. "Oh, didn't notice." His hand remained in your hip, still keeping you in his grasp, you desperately tried to push away. 

"Shanks. Shower." 

"Doll, I'm hurt! do I even get my morning kisses first?!" 

"Now!" He let a drawn out sigh. "I'm really hurt. My head is pounding, I feel like the marine ships after the aftermath of Hawk eye's 'no loitering' escapades and now my own girlfriend won't even let me love her! I'm hurt." You rolled your eyes. 

"Shower. Then kisses." The Yonko sighed and puffed out his cheeks childlike. "...fine." His hand left your waist before he sat up and felt at his face with his signature hungover groan. His feet hit the floor and he sat at his bedside and combed his fingers through his hair before looking back to you and pointing. 

"What about just one?" He gave you a grin. 

God dammit. 

"...fine you alcoholic bastard." You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed a quick kiss to his lips...only for him to hold the side of your face to deepen it. As your lips exchanged you fell on your back and he hovered over top of you, pulling back for only a second to let the cocky snicker leave his throat before going right back in. 

Fuck this man and his fucking smooth ass moves. Your heart bumped excitedly in your chest as your hands gripped at the naked skin of his back as he continued to continue with his given talent of taking your breath away. It all for a while made you forget he smelled like a brewery exploded on him. 

For a while. 

You pulled back and gasped for air, pushing him away. "Shanks! Shower!" A groan left him as he pushed himself up off the bed. "Yeah yeah, heard you, I know!" 

You laughed to yourself as you watched him for the second time that morning trudge off to the bathroom, before going in turning around to point at the dresser. 

"We're replacing that because of its hatred of my fucking knee!" You could only find yourself laughing.

Oh you loved this alcoholic bastard. 

[catthatquacks]

Ugly Thoughts

Razz sat up from a cold sweat. His breathing was labored. Fingers smoothed back locks of copper and ending on the tip of the long, halo like black horns. That dream. He hadn't had that dream in a long, long time.

Razz looked down at Grey. His beautiful partner still sound asleep and curled close to him. Even her adorable sleeping face couldn't push the memory away this time. Sensing he wasn't going back to sleep, Razz carefully got out of bed.

Navigating the dark apartment was no problem for the cave dwelling creature he was. His green eyes emitting an eerie green glow in the absence of light. He preferred when it was dark. His eyes were made for it after all. Not that koathians didn't adapt to either, But there was just something so soothing about the dark. Maybe it was because most people where asleep, leaving their minds quiet and less invasive. Maybe it was instinct to seek safety and comfort in the darkness of a cave. Or maybe he was still just an edgy teenager who found the darkness to be his only friend-- besides his sister.

Couldn't be that. He was far too old now for such stupid cringe shit like that. Razz smirked at his own thoughts. It was a fleeting moment before he sighed and pulled out a beer from his fridge. Hard to believe he'd kicked this habit, considering the fact he still drank at least one per day. Hardly call it kicking anything. He even had his own brewery now. More like he openly promoted it.

'Curled Horns. Grab life by the horns.'

Why did he let RIP's wife pick that slogan anyway? Well, whatever. It sells.

Razz cracked open the beer as he moved to his desk. He picked up a few papers, skimming them before sighing. Paperwork wasn't going to fix it either apparently. Razz put the papers back; today just wasn't the day, and made his way out of the apartments to the roof. He swung his legs over the railing and looked out across sprawling landscape. Light pollution made star gazing difficult, but it was dark enough tonight that the sky came to life. Though, he wasn't looking at the sky. His attention fell on the lights in the distance. They spread miles and miles until their light wasn't visible the the naked eye. Maple was surprisingly large. Thousands of lives had depended on him and his organization for years. Thousands that were either sleeping, or nocturnal adventurers of the night like him. No one would believe this whole place was on the back of a turtle. Some Maple-landers still didn't believe it, despite all the evidence.

Razz sighed, taking another drink from his beer. When had he even taken a drink before? He supposed it didn't matter. He leaned forward, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, before it suddenly slammed into a tree. The bark buckled and splintered as the tree caved in and slowly fell into the soil. The sound was loud, like thunder it echoed across the city and faded into nothing. His tail whipping wildly behind him. It snapped, cut, and severed anything that dared to be too close.

Why now? Why did it come back now? Sure, he read some pretty fucked up mind scapes lately, but it wasn't anything he wasn't already used to. Something had to have triggered it. What was it?

Another tree, another thunderous sound as another tree fell. Razz took another drink from his beer.

He probably wouldn't get an answer. His father's murder and his own exile were so long ago now. He'd almost thought they were gone. Just like a twisted thorny vine, it came back and infected his memory. Razz covered his face with his hand once more. His shoulders shaking, and tail curled around him.

He would be like this for hours. Just quietly sitting there; shaking until he was too exhausted to think anymore.

[nwbeerguide]

An homage to his homebrewing club, Adam Robbings and Reuben's Brews release Stouter Limits. The next in their series of 10th anniversary beers.

One Small Sip. One Giant Treat...

Stouter Limits Imperial Stout is the fourth release in the Reuben’s Brews 10th Anniversary Collaboration Series, brewed with the great folks at Homebrewers Guild of Seattle Proper. This is the homebrew club where our co-founder Adam Robbings cut his teeth, leading to the formation of our brewery. In fact, a number of our recipes still date back to those heady days of homebrewing. Homebrewing is the epitome of “glass backwards” - brewing unconstrained by production efficiencies - which Adam learned at the club and carried those philosophies forward to this very day at the brewery.

Stouter Limits is a MASSIVE imperial stout brewed with literally tons of malt with a super long boil so that it can reach a mouth-filling 12.5% ABV. This beer is thick, heavy, rich, and packing a wallop.

-Reuben’s Brews’ latest 10th anniversary release, Stouter Limits

image courtesy Adam Robbings & Reuben’s Brews

Like so many before him, before he and his wife Grace started Reuben’s Brews, Adam Robbings was a home brewer. No longer a novelty and more a gauntlet required by most aspiring brewers and business owners, home brewing at one point was the beer equivalent of moonshining, hidden away in college dorm room closets, basements, or garages. But with the popularity of “microbrew” the nation and its inexperienced imbibers sought a “cheap” albeit less consistent way to make beer. Today, home brewing has risen to the level of novelty, much like cooking, baking, or sewing. And yeah, among those who count themselves an alum of a homebrew club is none other than Adam Robbings, alumnus of the Homebrewers Guild of Seattle Proper. 

It was here that Robbings, along with a pot-pourri of other like-minded wort worshippers, that Adam would experiment and grow his appreciation for beer. It was also here, on one fateful day that Adam and his fellow members sought the support of nearby Naked City Brewing Company, to brew what would become Opacity. Designed to be a low-roast, chocolate-inspiring, imperial stout, Opacity is a beer that those who enjoyed it remember well. 

Now in his 10th year of owning Reuben’s Brews, Adam and by association his wife Grace honor the Homebrewers Guild of Seattle Proper, by brewing a special edition of Opacity. 

Repackaged in a fancy label and available in 16-ounce cans, Stouter Limits is the latest in a series of 10th anniversary beers, supporting those who inspire and inspired the brewery. 

More on Stout Limits. Opacity evolved. 

For Stouter Limits, the fourth beer in our 10th Anniversary Collaboration Series, we ratcheted up the Opacity recipe while maintaining the essence of the original. Large portions of flaked oats and Golden Naked Oats—a favorite specialty malt among the homebrewers—contribute to the creamy body and the rich, nutty character of the beer, while kilned malts add color as well as layers of sweet caramel, dark chocolate, and roast coffee. Finally, Magnum and East Kent Goldings hops provide just enough bitterness along with some herbal, woody character.

Released the weekend of April 2nd, Stouter Limits isn’t just a beer to consume but in the spirit of Adam’s early days in beer, it’s a beer that you can brew yourself. Again, is Adam with the homebrew recipe for those who wish to replicate this elevation of a beer Adam once brewed. 

STOUTER LIMITS IMPERIAL STOUT

Batch size: 5.5 gallons (21 liters)

OG: 1.120

FG: 1.030

IBU: 50

ABV: 12.5

Malt/Grain

(Scale the percentages below to weights for your brewhouse efficiency.)

71.6% High quality UK pale malt (2–3 SRM)

8% Flaked oats (1 SRM)

6.5% Golden Naked Oats (6 SRM)

4.7% Roasted barley (300 SRM)

3.6% Perla Negra or Weyermann Carafa Special 1 (350 SRM)

3.6% Chocolate malt (450 SRM)

2.2% Caramunich (56 SRM)

Hops

1 oz. (40 IBU) Magnum [12% AA] at 60 minutes

0.75 oz. (10 IBU) East Kent Goldings [5% AA] at flameout/whirlpool

Yeast

(Use a big, healthy pitch of this from a 5-liter starter or about 500B cells.)

Wyeast 1728 or Imperial A10 Darkness

Water 

Use baking soda to target a mash ph of 5.3, adjusting for your water. Add 1.2 g/gal CaCL and 0.35 g/gal Epsom salt to the boil.

Directions

Mash low (148°F Saccrification rest) for high fermentability. Ferment low and steady at about 62°F in a controlled environment, taking extra care for the first two days to not spike or crash your temperature while the yeast is highly active and generating additional heat. Slowly raise the temperature to 65°F as fermentation winds down over the course of a week or until you hit the target final gravity. Transfer to a keg, or bottle for conditioning.

This beer will age well and you might want to hang on to a few bottles to compare with our barrel-aged version of Stouter Limits releasing at the end of the year.

Now at their taproom, stop by Reuben’s Brews today and taste for yourself. 

Reuben's Brews is located in Seattle, Washington, and has two locations at 5010 14th Ave NW Seattle, WA 98107 and 800 NW 46th St, Seattle, WA 98107. For more information about their other beers, ciders, and hard seltzers visit https://bit.ly/2sPxFoJ.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3LFJ0u7

[handeaux]

17 Curious Facts About Cincinnati's Miami & Erie Canal

Of Course, Daniel Drake Thought Of It

Since he was behind almost every improvement ever contemplated in pioneer Cincinnati, it should surprise no one that Daniel Drake proposed a canal system in his 1815 book, “A Picture of Cincinnati.” Drake was, as usual, ten years ahead of his time, but his proposal closely matched the route ultimately selected when the canal was laid out in 1825.

Just The Facts

The Miami & Erie Canal extended 244 miles from Cincinnati to Toledo. Construction began in 1825 and was completed in 1845, at a total cost of $8,062,680.07. Along the route, the canal crossed 19 aqueducts and employed 106 locks. The last 10 of these locks carried barges from Court Street down to the Ohio River at Cincinnati along a channel now buried under Eggleston Avenue. The peak year for traffic was 1851, after which competition from railroads increased every year. The canal was abandoned in 1913 after a catastrophic flood in Dayton destroyed essential infrastructure.

Up & Down

Along its path, the canal climbed 395 feet upward from Lake Erie to reach its highest level. Known as the Loramie Summit, this plateau extended almost 20 miles between New Bremen to Lockington, north of Piqua, Ohio. From there, the canal descended 513 feet until it reached the Ohio River. The final 100-foot drop ran from Court Street to the Ohio River in Cincinnati.

From Barges To Superhighways

Long stretches of the Miami & Erie Canal are now traversed by automobiles, especially on I-75, U.S. Route 24, and Ohio Route 25. Automobiles were often the third vehicles to follow these routes. As the canal was abandoned, boats usually gave way at first to interurban rail lines in the 1920s and 1930s. Automobiles followed only after the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956 funded the construction of interstate highways.

Cincinnati’s Rhine

Without the canal, there would be no Over-the-Rhine. The first references to Cincinnati’s “Little Deutschland” neighborhood as “Over-the-Rhine” appear around the time of the Civil War. Originally a put-down, the city’s German residents came to appreciate the idea that they felt more at home once they crossed over the Canal (the “Rhine”) into familiar territory.

The “Other” Canal

The Miami & Erie Canal was not the only canal serving Cincinnati. The Cincinnati & Whitewater Canal was completed in 1843 and connected Cincinnati to Indiana’s Whitewater Canal near Harrison, Ohio. This short canal was in operation for only 20 years and was converted to a railroad right-of-way after 1862. A tunnel constructed for the Cincinnati & Whitewater canal can still be seen in Cleves.

The Lakes Abide

Some of Ohio’s largest lakes were originally created to ensure a consistent flow of water for the canal. Grand Lake St. Marys was one of these feeders and was the world's largest reservoir when built. Indian Lake, originally a collection of small lakes and wetlands, was converted into a large supply basin for the canal. Along the length of the canal, smaller basins – including LeSourdsville Lake – allowed barges to turn around, dry dock, or exchange cargo.

Holy Water

A couple of local African American churches dunked converts in the Canal. One Northside church performed its rites at a location known then as Baptist Hill. The other congregation baptized a half-mile south of the Bruckmann Brewery, beneath the western slopes of Clifton.

Liquid Gold

Canal transportation was appropriate if you didn’t need cargo in a hurry and if your cargo was unlikely to spoil. Whiskey, in other words, was nearly the perfect canal cargo, and a lot of liquor went up and down the canal. A single barge could carry 500 barrels of whiskey at 50 gallons each. At pre-Prohibition prices averaging $1 a quart retail, that’s a $100,000 boatload.

A Taste Of Venice

The City of Cincinnati celebrated its Centennial in 1888. As part of the festivities, an immense exhibition was staged at Music Hall. For this extravaganza, the 1,248-foot-long “Machinery Hall” was erected along the rear of Music Hall, over the flowing canal. The interior of the hall was decorated in a Venetian theme, accentuated by a fleet of gondolas poled along by singing gondoliers. The Italian boats returned every year into the early 1900s.

A Lock On A Name

Lockland, our suburban neighbor straddling the “Split” on I-75, has nothing to do with security devices requiring a key. A half-dozen Ohio towns contain “Lock” in their names, all reflecting their erstwhile position along the various canals connecting Lake Erie to the Ohio River. At Lockland, I-75 barrels right through the former canal locks.

Ice Is Nice

As an exposed and relatively shallow stream, the canal regularly froze each winter. In the sections near towns and cities, the annual freeze brought out skaters and even horse-drawn sleighs. The frozen canal also generated substantial supplies of commercial ice to icemen issued permits by the State of Ohio. One of the biggest storage facilities was located at LeSourdsville, north of Hamilton, capable of holding a two-year supply of that pre-refrigeration necessity.

Swimming Hole

Every boy in Cincinnati knew the “secret” sign: Two fingers held up in what later became the sign for “peace” meant it was time to go swimming. Every boy in Cincinnati also knew the warning shout, “Cheese it! The Cops!” – a signal to grab your clothes and scatter.

Beware The Naked Man

The canal had barely been excavated when Cincinnati City Council passed an ordinance in 1828 outlawing bathing in the waterway. The ordinance began: “Whereas much lewdness and obscenity daily occur from the public and lascivious manner in which men and boys expose themselves in bathing in the Miami canal in the city of Cincinnati . . . ” By the late 1800s, naked men were still in plain view along the local waterways. But nakedness was not the only crime. Even worse, these flagrantly unclothed males were naked on Sunday. Skinny-dippers created an offensive impediment to good folks crossing the Mill Creek bridge on their way to church:

Dangerous Waters

Charles Ludwig’s little book, “Playmates of the Towpath,” published in 1929 by the Cincinnati Times-Star, is filled with anecdotes about parents paddling their sons (and, rarely, daughters) for swimming in the canal. The book is equally packed with stories about swimmers being rescued or drowning. Although seemingly placid and tame, the canal claimed many lives over the years. Drownings were common, but infectious diseases from dysentery to cerebral meningitis spawned in the polluted waters as well.

And Gross, Too

Even those former boys who in their dotage fondly remembered swimming in the Miami & Erie Canal recalled the stench from industrial wastes including grease, acids, and chemical salts; rotting animal carcasses; the occasional corpse; and the contents of the innumerable chamber pots emptied into the stream from tenements along the banks. When a swimmer yelled “floater,” there was no telling what was on the way, but everyone scrambled out of the water.

The Last Boat

Cargo barges had disappeared from the canal by the early 1900s and long-distance passenger service vanished after the 1913 flood demolished some of the upstream locks. It is believed the final excursion boat on the Cincinnati section of the canal hosted a party of “Free Setters,” a society of men dedicated to beer drinking. Fittingly, the 27 July 1917 voyage started at the Gerke Brewery at the Plum Street bend and ended at Bruckmann’s near the Ludlow Viaduct.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #1: Hunker Down

Words: ca. 2,500 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: lime CW: language, angst, talk of sex

AN: This isn’t the full story, but the rest hasn’t been written yet.

—

What am I doing?

Anna stuck the six pack of craft beer in the rusty metal basket on the front of her bike.

You have no power, dummy. The house is gonna get hot, and she invited you. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

Anna sighed and looked up at the orange-gray sky. “So eerie,” she mumbled as she got on her bike and began peddling. Kind of ominous of how I think this is gonna go, she thought. How many years has it been since we’ve even talked?

An hour ago, during a particularly nasty bit of hurricane weather, she lost power at her house. No surprise there, really. She almost always lost power when it rained. And Anna didn’t like rain. Or, more appropriately, Anna didn’t like being alone during rain.

Just as she began texting friends to see whose place she could crash at, she received a text from her estranged older sister.

“Hey, it’s Elsa. I know it’s been a while, but if you need company during this storm, I’m at the house.”

Something inside tugged at Anna’s heartstrings. She wanted a relationship with Elsa. She wanted to have her sister back in her life. She wanted to talk about the fight that drove a wedge between them. So she texted back that she’d be over shortly.

As she biked towards her destination- her childhood home now occupied by her sister, Anna nodded at the few people out assessing their property. The eye of a hurricane was always an interesting time. The winds died down and the rain stopped, but experience told Anna that this storm wasn’t over yet. It was nowhere near over.

She easily crossed the road that separated her neighborhood from her sister’s. Funny, we live close, but we’re so far apart, she mused as a few drops of rain fell on her.

Shit.

She peddled faster, praying she’d make it before the heavens opened up again. Luckily, she spotted the familiar white house ahead.

Come on, come on, come on. Made it!

Anna braked in front of the black door with the brass knocker and waited. Should she let herself in? She had a key. Should she knock? Was she a guest or was it still her home too?

As Anna contemplated, the door opened, and she was shaken from her thoughts. Her older sister stood in the doorway in loungewear that fit her perfectly. Anna had always been a little jealous of Elsa’s figure. She was taller, leaner from years of running, and had slightly bigger boobs that Anna envied. Her white gold hair was voluminous, and her complexion was flawless. In short, Anna thought her sister was gorgeous. God, she looks the same as she did three years ago.

“Some things never change,” Elsa chuckled. “Still lost in that big, imaginative mind, huh?”

Anna chuckled nervously. “I wasn’t sure if I should just come in or not.” She got off her bike. “Can I bring this in?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Elsa responded and opened the door wider to let Anna in. She regarded her younger sister as she walked in. Anna looked healthy and well, if not a bit wet from the rain. Her bright yellow raincoat and black rain boots kept her mostly dry. 

“I brought beer,” Anna said as she kicked the stand on her bike and picked up the six pack from out of the basket. She held it up for Elsa to inspect. 

Elsa crinkled her nose. “I’m not much of a beer drinker.”

“More for me then,” Anna shrugged. Though it had been a few years since she last stepped foot in the house, muscle memory took over and she walked to the kitchen. “But you do like booze.”

Elsa followed her sister and peered over her shoulder at the wine she set out after Anna’s text confirmed she’d come over. Three wine bottles sat on the large island in the middle of the space.

Anna picked up a bottle of rosé. “You a wine mom now?”

Elsa lightly laughed. “I guess so. I never learned how to drink beer. I couldn’t stand the taste, but I like wine. Besides, what’s a hurrication without a little alcohol?”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Anna grinned. She handed Elsa the bottle and sat at the island. Taking her own bottle out of the cardboard pack, she attempted to twist the cap off. “Dammit,” she muttered.

“Need a bottle opener?” Elsa fished one out of a drawer and tossed it to Anna. Then she pulled a wine glass from a glass-paneled cabinet and placed it on the island.

Anna watched as Elsa uncorked the wine bottle and sniffed the cork. Then she poured a small bit into her glass and swirled it around before taking a dainty sip. Satisfied, she poured more.

Ever the classy one, Anna thought.

Elsa noticed Anna watching with a raised brow and blushed. “I took a class,” she explained. “Wine is a fascinating subject.“ 

“Hey, no judgment here,” Anna grinned. “It’s cool that you took a class. Maybe I could take a beer brewing class. I’m sure they have them around town. There’s so many local breweries now. I feel like I’m at one at least once a week with friends.”

Elsa hummed as she took a sip and looked out of the kitchen window. The rain was in full swing and she could see tree branches swaying violently in the wind.

Dammit, Anna. Don’t talk about your friends with your estranged sister.

“So, what el-” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Elsa laughed lightly. “You don’t need to be sorry, Anna. You have a life. Which is what I wanted to ask you about. What have you been up to lately?”

Anna took a swig of beer and set her bottle down. Her sister wasn’t going to like the answer.

“I’ve been working at a souvenir shop. It’s actually really fun too because we also do tarot and palm readings and fortune telling, and tourists are so stupid they believe what we say.” She chuckled and took another sip of beer. When she looked at her sister again, Elsa didn’t look amused. “What?”

Elsa blinked. “What?”

“What’s that face?” Anna crossed her arms. Here we go.

“I’m not making a face,” Elsa defended. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, causing the house to shake.

“Yes, you are, Elsa. You’re making a snobby face, like my job isn’t good enough for you. We can’t all live in our parents’ house and have tons of money from our fancy museum job or whatever you’re doing these days.”

Anna’s tone was brusque, but she didn’t care. Things had been bad between them ever since the fight.

The fight was three years ago after Elsa walked in on Anna having sex with her at-the-time boyfriend/current-and-forever ex. It’d been Anna’s idea. There had been a big party, and her whole family had been dressed to the nines. A perfect night for something special. She had wanted to lose her virginity that night, and- despite it being with Hans- it had been pretty good. At least he knew how to eat a girl out. Well, not as good as the girls Anna had since been with, but he had been good enough for her first time.

But Elsa just had to walk into Anna’s room to ask her something about… she didn’t even remember what Elsa wanted. Elsa had frozen in place, staring at the two of them for what had seemed like 20 minutes, when it was actually only a few seconds. 

“Get out,” Anna had screamed. Thankfully, that had gotten Elsa to run out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

The fight had taken place the next day after her parents had a chat with her about sex. She’d been mortified. She had been 18 after all, and she had consented. Her parents hadn’t cared and forbid her from seeing Hans again. Looking back, Anna didn’t mind that part. Hans had turned out to be a manipulative ass. At the time, however, she had been angry at Elsa. She’d called Elsa a prude and old-fashioned and said that no one would ever want to have sex with a pasty virgin. Elsa had called her trash and an embarrassment to the family.

In essence, they had hurt each other deeply that morning, and their relationship never recovered. They had gone their separate ways in life, only coming back together 8 months after that to say goodbye to their parents who had passed away in a car accident just outside of the city.

Remembering how Elsa had called her a whore that day, Anna grinned wickedly and stood up. Her puritan sister might as well know what else she did with her free time. “You’d really hate my favorite job though.”

Elsa opened and closed her mouth before sighing. “What job?”

“Camming,” Anna said. “That’s right, dear sister, your younger sister gets naked online for money. Sometimes I even have sex with my female roommate for my audience.”

“Anna-” Elsa’s eyes darted around the room, and she looked very uncomfortable, her face beet red.

“Still such a prude,” Anna shook her head as she grabbed the cardboard case that held her unfinished beers. “Jesus, Elsa. Get out from the rock you’ve been living under. Who knows, maybe you’ll even find someone to fuck.”

She turned to leave, deciding that taking her chances in the hurricane was better than staying here. When she got to the foyer, however, the lights went out. “Shit.” At least it’s still daytime. There’ll be some light outside to get home.

“Anna,” Elsa whimpered from somewhere behind her.

Anna took a deep breath and let it out. Without turning, she addressed her sister. “What?”

“I’m sorry. I… please don’t leave. There’s a hurricane,” Elsa sniffled.

Anna finally turned. In what little light was coming from the windows, she saw that Elsa had tears in her eyes. She immediately felt like a bitch for being so mean to Elsa. Elsa had always been the more sensitive and skittish of the sisters. Anna could remember times when touching Elsa would scare her so much that she jumped.

“Please. I want- no, I need you. To stay. Please,” Elsa said desperately. “I can’t lose you.”

“Elsa-”

“I know we haven’t talked in years, but you’re my fa-family, and I don’t want to l- lose you again.” Tears fell down Elsa’s face as she spoke. “I’m sorry I was jealous of Hans and told on you. I shouldn’t have done that, and I-” 

“Wait, what did you just say?” Anna’s brows knit together as she held onto a thought.

Elsa wiped her eyes. “I said I was sorry.”

“No, not that. You said you were jealous of Hans.”

“N-no. I didn’t.” Elsa’s voice was shaky, and her arms wrapped around her midsection, something Anna remembered her doing a lot during their childhood when Elsa was anxious or frightened. When Anna stepped forward, Elsa stepped back.

“Elsa.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t,” Elsa shut her eyes tightly, unable to continue. She was sure she was about to have a panic attack when two arms wrapped around her waist. 

Anna drew her into a hug and spoke softly, “Elsa, it’s okay. It’s okay to be jealous.”

Elsa’s body shook. “Not like this.”

“Like what?” Anna sounded so maternal in that moment that she could hardly believe that she was so cruel to her sister a few minutes ago.

“I can’t tell you. You… you’ll hate me, and I can’t lose you. I can’t,” Elsa cried, soaking Anna’s raincoat-clad shoulder. 

The cogs in Anna’s brain started turning as she realized what Elsa wasn’t saying. “Elsa, you were jealous of Hans… because he had sex with me?” 

Anna could feel Elsa shaking harder with that question, but she had to know. “Did you wish you could…?” 

Elsa tried to pull away, but Anna held tight.

“Elsa, tell me. Please.” 

She felt the slightest of nods and took that as confirmation. Her sister had told her parents about her and Hans because she was jealous that Hans got to have sex with Anna. Elsa was jealous of Hans because he got to have sex with Anna and she didn’t. Elsa wanted to have sex with Anna.

Not as creeped out by that as I could be.

While the thought was a little weird, Anna was more flattered than anything. And it made sense that Elsa had deflected during the fight. She had had a secret to keep- a secret that was, societally speaking, more morally wrong than having a whore for a sister. The more Anna thought about it, the more she was actually turned on by the fact that, of all the people in the world, Elsa wanted her. She contemplated her next move as she rubbed Elsa’s back. 

Elsa’s back still shook from crying, but she finally returned the hug. After a few minutes, Anna pulled back slightly and noticed that Elsa couldn’t look at her. She cupped her older sister’s cheeks tenderly. “Elsa, I won’t leave you, okay?”

“Why,” Elsa questioned. Her eyes begged Anna to tell her why she wouldn’t leave an incestuous monster. 

Anna stroked Elsa’s cheeks with her thumbs and smiled before closing her eyes, leaning in, and brushing her lips against Elsa’s. 

Elsa froze but didn’t back away. Her eyes were wide when Anna’s opened. 

“Because I think… maybe I want to have sex with you too.”

Elsa squeaked and finally withdrew herself from Anna. “No, you… you don’t want that.” 

“But what if I do? You want it, so why can’t I?” Anna’s eyebrows furrowed. Isn’t this what Elsa wanted? Isn’t this what could finally end their estrangement?

“It’s wrong, Anna,” Elsa said.

“I know it’s wrong, but… oh god, I’m… give me a minute.” Anna tried to search her feelings because, despite feeling right, this was new and she needed to talk through things. “I think I’ve always been attracted to you, Elsa. I just shrugged it off as envy. I mean, you’re gorgeous as hell and smart and fun to be around.” A skeptical look from her older sister had Anna backtracking a bit. “I know we had the fight; but, before that, you were fun to be around. And, now that I know why we had the fight, I understand. You were trying to protect me, Elsa. And I love that you’ve always been protective of me. I love you. As a sister and as maybe more. So, please, let me show you.”

For the next several minutes, they just looked at each other. Like the hurricane outside, there seemed to be a storm brewing behind Elsa’s eyes. Anna wasn’t sure if her impassioned speech would change anything, but she knew she was not leaving the house anymore. 

“I can’t lose you either, Elsa.”

Elsa seemed to stand a little straighter with Anna’s admission, and her eyes locked on Anna’s. She surged forward to pull Anna into a kiss that sent bolts of pleasure down to Anna’s core. Anna’s yellow raincoat was quickly removed as their tongues moved in harmonious synchronicity, and Elsa guided her up to her bedroom.

While the hurricane raged on, the two sisters gave into their desires, finding both themselves and each other. 

The next morning was silent and still. People began the process of cleaning up and assessing the damage. Crews were already starting to work on restoring power. News anchors interviewed street flood kayakers and business owners.

In the white house with the black door, Anna woke with a start. Her sister’s naked back was to her, and her hair cascaded onto the mattress. Remembering last night, Anna wiped the sleep from her eyes. 

What have we done?

[kalbeliya-tunesonroad]

Connecting to Himachal through the modern city “Kasauli”

“My soul is savoring freedom or maybe its hunting solace, 

clueless I may seem but my soul has been harmonized,

blending and whisking itself into soothing and pacified energy.

ABOUT THE PLACE     

 Kasauli is a small hill town in the solan district of Himachal Pradesh, known for its sunsets, colonial-era houses and many more heart warming small spots. It is perfect place to spend your days in total peace of nature and still be connected modern day to day life .    

 TO HELP YOU NAVIGATE 

How to reach   

 Major attractions          

Accommodation          

Overall budget

Breaking the budget

 Unique about Kasauli / Insights 

A Personal spot worth sharing  

   ~Song of the trip                                                    ~Book of the trip

         HOW TO REACH    

 Kasauli is 287.3 km away from Delhi and 57.3 km away from Chandigarh thus very easy to reach.      

 ~BY BUS 

 The best way to reach Kasauli is by Bus. There is no direct bus or train from Delhi to Kasauli. First take a bus from ISBT Delhi ( Kashmere Gate metro station ) to Chandigarh. Also keep in mind to take a bus that takes you to sector 43  ISBT Chandigarh and not to sector 17 ISBT Chandigarh. There are many options available and it would not be difficult to board a bus from ISBT ( I took roadways). From sector 43 Chandigarh ISBT take a bus to Shimla and deboard at Dharampur ( I took Himachal Roadways which costed me around 110 bucks only). From Dharampur catch a bus to Kasauli which is almost 9 km away.           

~BY TRAIN          

  You can catch a train to Kalka. Many trains are available at different timings ( Himalayan queen, Kalka Shatabadi, Kalka mail). From Kalka catch a private bus or roadways to Dharampur and from Dharampur to Kasauli. 

 “TIP” : Private buses may take long, better to take Roadways. 

MAJOR ATTRACTIONS         

 Baptist Church     

 Sunset point     

 Monkey point    

 Gilbert Trail    

 Kasauli Tibetan market   

 Gurka Fort                           

 Toy train     

  Gurunanak Gurudwara                           

   Kasauli Brewery                                                                                                                               

BAPTIST CHURCH

                     Inside view of Baptist Church

Timings: 7:00 AM - 7:00 PM

It was built by Britishers in 1923 and the architecture of Baptist church is mesmerizing. You can roam around, sit in peace and buy beautiful bracelets. You can find shops nearby in case you want to buy anything.

SUNSET POINT

                              The half naked range of mountains from sunset point

Timings: 6:00 AM - 7:00 PM

The view is beautiful at any time of the day but obviously the sunset after which it has been named is amazing. You will find people clicking photos with their loved ones.

MONKEY POINT

Timings: 9:00 AM-5:00 PM

 Facilities: Food and water is available with washroom facility.

Things to keep in mind: 

Carry an identity proof to get in   

Electronics are prohibited                                                                          

Monkey point is one of the major attractions of Kasauli. It is located inside the Air force base. It is a temple dedicated to Lord Hanuman where he rested while returning to Lanka carrying Sanjivni booty. Also the top of the hill is in the shape of Lord Hanuman’s foot and it is 3.5 km away from Kasauli bus station. It takes about 15-20 minutes to get to the top. You will find hundreds of monkey in your way. Once you get at the top, you can enjoy the view of mountains and watch Satluj river turning and twisting its way around the horizon. This place is secure and strict. Also it is not hard to find, you can inquire any shopkeeper or may be army officials.

GILBERT TRAIL  

    Pinewood trees and the sky changing its color as the dawn hits at Gilbert trail

Timings: 6:00 AM - 5:00 PM 

Location: Gilbert trail is at a distance of 2 Km from the Kasauli bus stand and can be easily reached 

Gilbert trail is a 1.5 km walkway giving a beautiful view of pinewood tree, Himalayan oaks covered in a little mist, little wild flowers here and there. Make sure to be careful to wear good shoes during the monsoon season as the walkway is kaccha, narrow and becomes slippery after it rains.

KASAULI TIBETAN MARKET

                       Bun samosa from a shop in Tibetan market

Timings: 10 AM: 9:00 PM

Located near the mall road Kasauli Tibetan market  is a beautiful place to be at to enjoy shopping and yummy food. At night the lights, people roaming around in beautiful clothes with shops full of woolens, antiques, art craft, handicrafts and jewels mesmerizing your senses.  

GURKA FORT

Timings: 9:00 AM-6:00 PM

It is located in the town of Subathu at a small hillock and falls under the major attraction. It gives a beautiful background to photoholics. It is surrounded by Forest. Located at the remote corner and can be easily reached by road. Basically Gurka Fort is mostly ruins in today’s date and is known for its architectural left.

TOY TRAIN

 Toy train in Kasauli gives you the beautiful scenic views. The surroundings will hold you till the end of your journey. You can board the train up to Dharampur, take the train up to Barog and return. Toy train can be booked online, check the timings online as the schedule keeps on changing.

GURUDWARA SHRI NANAK JI 

Located in the market of Ghorkha on a road going towards Kasauli. Gurudwara Shri Nanak Ji is a religious place . It also provides free accommodation to the needy ones. Each Sunday Kada Prashad( sacred food) is distributed. Since it is an religious place you can visit it any time.

KASAULI BREWERY

Timings: 7:00 AM- 7:30 PM

Kasauli brewery (Mohan Meakin Ltd) serves different imported and brewed drinks and for sure serves your taste buds right. Established in 1820′s by Edward Dyer, this is Asia’s oldest working distillery.

ACCOMMODATION

From home stay to resort to luxurious hotels with wonderful views. You can easily find places to stay in Kasauli. You can make online bookings according to your budget and choice as the price variety is wide enough to fit in any pocket.

TIP: There is as such no need to hire a guide. You can easily find each place and reach them by roads.

OVERALL BUDGET

Transportation: 900 bucks

Food: 1000 bucks

Tickets: Around 100 bucks

No accommodation included

BREAKING THE BUDGET

BUS CHARGES( Includes reaching the destination and return)

 2*250 = 500 ( I took Haryana Roadways from Delhi to Chandigarh)

2*110 = 220 ( I took Himachal Roadways from Chandigarh to Dharampur)

2*40 = 80 ( I took a public bus from Dharampur to Kasauli bud stand)

Total Transportation charges = 800 bucks

    2. FOOD = 1000 bucks ( If you eat in good cafe and it is even less if you eat in nearby shops, there are plenty of small shops within reachable distance)

   3. TICKETS = AROUND 100 BUCKS ( At most of the places you are not required to buy any tickets and if any place requires ticket formalities the price is very low)

   4. Total : 1900 bucks.

Also this whole information is regarding the one day I took to cover Kasauli and there are no accommodation charges Included since I didn’t stay in Kasauli for the night.

UNIQUE ABOUT KASAULI / INSIGHT

Does the darkness of night and flickering of stars make you want to taste chilled beer when its raining heat and whiskey or old monk on a breezy cold night ? Then Kasauli brewery( Mohan Meakin Ltd ) is the place. It is Asia’s oldest working distillery famous for serving finest scotch whiskey and many other brands.

 Also being a beautiful and peaceful place, its also connected through roads and is easy to cover. It is the nearest hill station from Delhi and Chandigarh where you can take a break from usual life, eat, roam in markets, sacred places and feel the nature taking over all your worries.

Also there is no problem with the crowd. So for solo travelers or solo female travelers its safe, Kasauli being an cantonment is quite safe, strict and secure . Everything is easily available and locals are quite friendly. 

A PERSONAL SPOT WORTH SHARING

Kasauli is known for its beautiful sunsets and sunrises, I have been to Kasauli twice and both the times i was flabbergasted by the sunset views. Once you cover 700-800 m of Gilbert Trail walkway, there is a turning and stretched area in front of the turn, a soothing place other than sunset point to watch the beautiful sun setting behind the mountains of Kasauli and the whole city of Chandigarh covered in twinkling lights after the sunset.

~Song of the trip : Night changes by One direction    

~Book of the trip : The last runaway by Tracy Chevalier

[portlandguide]

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The Top 10 Things To Do in Portland In Portland itself, join locals on a jog or bike through Forest Park, the largest urban park in America. Stop at Powell's Books to browse the stacks; do a bike tour of the many breweries in the area; or sample a wide variety of international cuisines from the city's famous food carts.

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25 Free Things to Do in Portland Oregon Portland on a Budget Do any of these free things to do in PDX look interesting to you? Can you think of any other free things in the city that's worth a visit? Thank you so much for such a detailed list on things to do in Portland. I will be there for about a week in one month and I'm excited to try out all of these!

Best Things To Do in Portland, Oregon

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traveloutlandish.com/blog/weird-fun-things-to-do-in-portland Here are some weird things to do in Portland, Oregon from nickel arcades to brewery tours. The internet asked, so we're answering. Here are a few more things to keep in mind for your trip. Cool Things to do in Portland Today: Check out what's going on in Portland today and this weekend on...

Things to Do in Portland - Portland travel guide hotels.com/go/usa/portland-things-to-do Portland, Oregon, is a vibrant and scenic city in the USA's Pacific Northwest. The largest city in the state, it's famed for its huge expanses of green space, from parks and forests to breathtaking You'll be drawn to Portland if you love the great outdoors, but that's not all there is to love about this place.

[yobaba30]

Rise Up

This is a very articulate and accurate documentation of the Portland we know...The following is from Jason Booth. I don’t know him, but his words are badass and echo my feelings about what is really going on in Portland and why it should matter to everyone.

“Soooo, I’ve been seeing a lot of posts lately about my fair city of #Portland and I thought it might be time to help you all out with a bit of a primer.First off, for those of you who have texted to check on us, you’re very sweet. We’re fine. Honestly. The whole city is quite alright. Portland is not, as it so happens, a war zone ripped from a dystopian YA novel. Rather, it’s full of summer weather in the 90’s, flower blossoms, breweries with big patios open until 10, and lots of social distancing and mask solidarity. Our Anthropologie is open and most of our restaurants are figuring out their strategies. We’re in phase 1 but it looks like phase 2 might be just around the corner.At night, over a four block downtown radius, our city is also protesting still. A lot of cities have already stopped because, ya know, we saved Black people. Good job everyone! Enjoy your summer! The protests in Portland actually had been dying down some, and then the prez decided that federal troops in unmarked cars might be a good idea. And that is the dumbest thing you can do in a city that is full of people that are so ready to tear apart this joke of a system brick by brick. Protests that had hundreds of people quickly climbed back into the thousands.The feds are vastly outnumbered here again. I’ve heard people describing the violence and the clashes and the fringe craziness. I’ve heard my city described in so many inaccurate ways.You see, my city is still fighting. Because Breonna Taylor’s killers are still free and because police violence here has a storied history and because our municipal leaders haven’t really done enough yet. The police budget has barely been touched. The mental health complex is still entirely underfunded in a country that is going to desperately need that kind of support over the next few years.My city is a wall of moms and a Navy veteran unflinching while he’s beaten by batons and pepper sprayed at point blank range. My city is Black community leaders and white allies and state leaders that are trying to figure out what comes next. My city is a mystery yoga Athena, daring border troops to rubber bullet her naked body.My city is still showing up to fight fascism, even as the Proud Boys from nearby Washington have arrived with their lovely mullets and AR-15’s in tow. And look, this is not a gun post, but we’ve been patiently waiting to see if those wise fb libertarians will show up soon—you know—those true Jeffersonian’s who have been warning us about just such government overreach for years. I’m sure they’re stuck in traffic. Maybe they got stuck behind a truck full of clever memes.My city is not entirely peaceful. That’s true too. We’re burning with anger the way some mom’s who have buried their sons are still burning with despair. I don’t agree with every result of every rally. Rage spills out in many ways when justice is denied. I’m not supporting my side entirely either. I think there is certainly blame to go around. But while one side fights for systemic change, the other takes orders and uses weapons of war to protect buildings. It’s a false equivalency that pushes everyone further to the edge.But in a country where many white people have already returned to whatever their semi-normal is, my city is still valiantly standing up as the front lines against a fascist regime that is currently using methods that we’ve seen employed by some of history’s worst.I’m not great at speaking up as much as I should. I tell dumb internet jokes and spend my days raising a toddler. That’s my vibe. My wife has been far more vocal about these things and I struggle from feeling like I’m preaching to the choir.But if you think Portland is some sort of lawless badlands...naw...we’re just waiting for the rest of you. We’re also the testing ground for Trump to see how much he can get away with.And when he does a Fox interview and talks about not accepting the election results, everything starts to become a bit more clear.You see, he looks at how Putin has installed himself permanently (and you know how much he envies that type of power), and he dips a few more toes into the deep end of using military power to remain installed where he is. Because all this civil unrest could very well be the precursor to something much bigger.This is what a righteous populace looks like.So when you look at us and think...man..stuff there is crazy. It’s not.It’s the bellwether of a movement. And we gladly welcome all of you back to the fray whenever you’d like.We are not done. There are dragons yet to slay.I am proud of my (adopted) city.

Rise up.”

ME: I have lived in Portland for 50+ years and this is exactly what I see, too, from a slightly closer viewpoint than most. I will also say, for people who are grousing about Portland's continued protests - I am so proud of this City and ALL the people who are participating in our struggle to secure CIVIL RIGHTS and HUMAN RIGHTS for all American citizens. #BLM is not only a Black issue - it is a HUMAN issue. Anyone who thinks differently is missing the point (maybe even WILLFULLY missing the point). This is one of - if not THE MOST - IMPORTANT movements of our time.

[justsomeantifas]

PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THIS & SPREAD THE WORD!

A huge brewery is being built in the nearby city of Mexicali, and Gallegos – like many others – fears it will suck up what little water remains to make beer for export to the US.”

[...]

Gallegos and other farmers see themselves as the victims of an unhealthy deal between the state government of Baja California and Constellation Brands, the third biggest brewer in the US. They’re managing the water as if it were loot to be divvied up among them,” he said. “The government’s intention is to leave us with nothing, without land and without water.” 

[...]

If this brewery was such a good deal wouldn’t it be [across the border] in Calexico or Las Vegas?” asked farmer Eduardo Cisneros, 75. “They just want cheap water and cheap labour.

Mexicali Resists, the local movement of farmers and residents, have been fighting this decision since it was announced. They have held demonstrations outside government offices and set up protest camps at the construction sites of these water pipes. They are asking to join them in a boycott of Constellation Brands. This includes the following beer, wine, spirit, and sparkling brands:

Alice White, Anderra, Arbor Mist, Ballast Point, Black Box Wines, Black Velvet, Blackstone, Blindfold, Blufeld, Cadet d'Oc, Casa Noble Tequila, Charles Smith Wines, Clos du Bois, Cook's, Corona brands, Cuttings, Diseno, Drylands, Estancia, Franciscan Estate, Funky Buddha Brewery, High West, Kim Crawford, Manischewitz, Mark West, Meiomi, Milestone, Modelo brands, Monkey Bay, Mount Veeder Winery, Mouton Cadet, Night Harvest, Nobilo, Pacifico, Paso Creek, Paul Masson Brandy, PopCrush, Primal Roots, Ravage, Ravens Wood, Red Guitar, Rex-Goliath, Robert Mondavi brands, Roget, Rosatello, Ruffino, Saldo, Saved, Selaks, Serpent's Bite, Simi, Simply Naked, Svedka Vodka brands,  Taylor, The Dreaming Tree, The Hogue Cellars, The Prisoner, Thorn, Thorny Rose, Toasted Head, Tocayo Brewing Company, Tom Gore Vineyards, Urlo (scream), VNO, Vendange, Victoria, Wild Horse Winery & Vineyards, Wild Irish Rose, and Woodbridge.

“We’re already having water shortages. Now imagine when the plant starts working.”- Mexicali Resists protester, Ana López. “

[whynotcallitvanda]

A Question of Identity

Title: A Question of Identity

For: @concretegrrl

Rating: G

Word Count: 4370

Warnings: None

Summary: While on the run after the events of Civil War, Wanda begins to feel like she’s losing herself. Luckily, she has a wonderful boyfriend who can try to help her feel better. Written for the prompt “I would love a fic that focuses on Vision learning more about Wanda’s Sokovian/Romani heritage, either from Wanda or on his own. Bonus points for fluff!”

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16045862

Message for recipient: Hi, Kait! I loved the prompt, I thought it was so interesting and I really hope I did it justice. It was really fun to write, so thank you! I tried my best to do research, and based the food on Czech cuisine because in one of the movies Sokovia is shown to border the Czech Republic. I hope I get the fluff bonus points, and I hope you like it!

A Question of Identity

Vision tied off the end of Wanda’s braid and passed it over her shoulder to indicate that he was finished with it.

Wanda moved out of her spot between his legs and turned to face him on the bed, curling her feet under her. “Thanks, babe.” She pressed a kiss onto his lips, fingers worrying distractedly at the bleach-damaged ends of her hair.

“You are quite welcome.” Vision smiled at her, but Wanda wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead she was gazing pensively at one of the hotel room’s four large mirrors. She’d seemed preoccupied ever since she asked him to braid her hair, and at first, he hadn’t been sure, but now he thought he might know what was bothering her.

“Is everything alright, Wanda?” Vision asked, cocking his head to the side and studying her further.

“Yeah, why?” Wanda didn’t turn her head, but she did make eye contact with him in the mirror.

“You continue to seem . . . dissatisfied with your hair,” Vision said carefully.

Wanda snorted, shoving the unnaturally orange braid over her shoulder where she couldn’t play with it. “Nat said I’ll get used to the color.”

“It’s been six months.”

Wanda finally faced him, wearing that small, slightly-annoyed smile that she got whenever he pointed out any of her logical fallacies. “But I wasn’t a redhead for all of that time.”

That was true enough. She cycled between various shades of blonde and red—never anything too dark, nothing too close to her natural brown. He thought they were all beautiful, of course, but Wanda only got more and more frustrated with each new look.

“I miss my hair.” Wanda sighed. She’d gone back to staring at the mirror. “Maybe it’s vain, I don’t know, but I always loved my hair.” She chuckled a little. “When I was a girl, I wanted it to be so long. As long as I could grow it. Long, and dark, and curly, like my mother’s. Hers was beautiful—curlier than mine, and I’m probably remembering it longer than it actually was, but I thought she had more hair than I’d ever seen in my life.”

Vision felt his chest constrict at the thought of just how much she was sharing with him. She’d shared so much over the course of their relationship, but he always selfishly wanted to know more. “And your father? Was his similar?”

Wanda shook her head, blinking, and part of Vision felt guilty for her tears, but another part of him recognized that this was just the way she remembered, with small details and glistening eyes.

“No,” she answered finally. “Well, sort of. His was dark—we all had dark hair—me, my parents, Pietro when he didn’t dye it, even my grandparents from the pictures I remember. But my father’s wasn’t curly like—” her voice broke, signaling to Vision that this was enough, the conversation had gone too far.

He reached out, drew her into his arms, and held her. She cried quietly into his chest. The tears for her parents were usually silent, like these, tamed by years of hiding them from her ever-present twin. The ones for Pietro were wild and forceful and found her in the middle of the night, so strong that she’d wake the next morning more physically exhausted than the night before.

Vision had seen many kinds of Wanda’s tears, and he hated—hated, something he’d once thought himself incapable of—he hated them more than almost anything.

Wanda sniffed and sat up, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. Vision recognized this as well. It was her ‘get ahold of yourself’ face. He kissed her cheek.

She stood, facing the mirror once more, hands crossed over her chest. “I understand why dyeing it is necessary. I can’t look like me because I can’t be me, especially since we’re already taking a risk meeting like we do.” Wanda took a deep breath, waving one hand in a sweeping gesture.  “I just miss feeling like myself.”

Vision reached forward and gently grabbed the arm that wasn’t pressed against her stomach. He took her hand, still unused to the feeling of her bare, ringless fingers. “Is there anything I can do to help in that regard?”

Wanda smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’re doing it, Vizh. Being with you is about the only thing that keeps me from completely losing myself.”

Still, as Vision embarked on the long journey back to the United States the next day, he wished there was something more he could do for her.

Vision sat stock still, the way that unnerved most people with its inhumanness. He could’ve gone through the motions of breathing, shifting in his seat, blinking, and glancing around, but he was alone, here in Wanda’s old room, so there wasn’t anyone else to consider.

He usually tried to stay away from Wanda’s bedroom, both because he wished to ensure his connection to her remained as inconspicuous as possible, and because something about it felt oddly invasive. He could still hear the echoes of “Knock, Vizh!” and though he knew he no longer had to worry about walking in on her naked, being alone somewhere so intrinsically tied to Wanda without her knowledge or consent didn’t appeal to his sense of propriety.

Today, however, that essence of Wanda was exactly what he was trying to capture. He’d given a lot of thought to her feelings of losing herself and had come to the conclusion that he had to do something about it.

It was honestly no wonder Wanda was feeling frustrated. On the run like she was, she couldn’t look like herself, she couldn’t sound like herself, she couldn’t dress like herself, she couldn’t be herself. One’s identity is tied to one’s appearance, as Vision himself learned when he set about developing his human disguise.

But this wasn’t about him. It was about Wanda.

The first step, naturally, was to figure out exactly what made Wanda feel like herself. After that, he could attempt to integrate those elements into her fugitive life in a way that wouldn’t put her in danger.

Vision closed his eyes and thought about Wanda. He thought about her smile, her laugh, the many different looks in her eyes. He visualized her fingers dancing through the air, the light of her own scarlet power glinting off her rings. The way she hummed when she was preoccupied, and the slight furrowing of her brow whenever Mr. Stark said something obnoxious. 

The way she talked of her home, of the years before the bomb, of her mother teaching her to cook and her father teaching her to dance, of Pietro impish pranks and her grandmother's pet cat. 

The flash of scarlet in her eyes when she mentions the Sokovian civil war, or the communists, or the Nazis. How civil unrest stole her grandfather from her long before it took her parents. Living on the streets, stealing to survive, barely feeling any shame for it, and the shame she feels now, years later. The sad fondness that overtakes her whenever Pietro's overprotectiveness would come up, and the fierce anger at any implication that Sokovia wasn't worth the effort, that rebuilding it was a waste, that maybe this would teach that backward nation a lesson. 

Wanda loved her country, despite everything, and ultimately, she'd given up everything for it. The struggle to make Sokovia a better place had taken her parents, her home, then her freedom, her humanity, and if that wasn't enough, it took her brother, too. 

And she still loved her country, and she still saw it as part of her identity, inseparable from herself. 

Vision opened his eyes. 

He knew what he needed to do.

Vision walked the streets of Novi Grad, clad in his human disguise, doing his best to blend in. He hadn’t seen Novi Grad before Ultron, so he had no firsthand knowledge of the city as Wanda had known it, however before this trip he did as much researching as he could. He wanted to be able to recognize the differences as Wanda would see them, if she was ever able to come back here.

A part of him felt bad for coming without her. She occasionally spoke about bringing him, to show him a place from her childhood, only to remember that it had probably been destroyed along with everything else. Unfortunately, however, if he wanted to get the information he needed, a trip to Novi Grad was the only way, short of asking Wanda herself, which would of course ruin the surprise.

Vision headed away from the city center. According to his research, the best place to glimpse true Sokovian culture was on the outskirts of the city where the damage had been lighter. After the Ultron crisis, nations from all over the world had banded together to rebuild Sokovia, and so far, things were looking up for its citizens. They even had a budding tourist economy based around the battle with Ultron.

That was all well and good, but Vision wasn’t sure Wanda would appreciate a Tony Stark bobblehead that was likely made in China.

After only twenty minutes of walking, he found himself in a much more residential area. There was a bakery to his right, flanked by a brewery on one side and a pharmacy on the other. People were out and about—not as many as he’d seen in other part of the city, but enough to imply that this was a well-traveled area.

He supposed there was nothing else for it except to attempt to strike up a conversation with someone. That was why he was here, after all, but he was suddenly rather nervous.

He scanned the people he saw, deciding eventually to approach one of the men, aware that a strange, foreign man walking up to a woman on the street usually indicated sinister motives. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten someone.

“Excuse me, sir?” he said in accented Sokovian. He was capable of speaking the language perfectly, but for the part he was playing, he needed to seem like an outsider.

The man looked up, distrust evident in his eyes. It appeared that there really weren’t many visitors in this part of town. “Yes?”

“I was wondering about Sokovian culture,” Vision said as smoothly as he could in his accented voice. “Do you know where I could get that information?”

The man’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that kind of query. “That’s a broad topic.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Vision conceded.

“Are you a professor or something?” the man asked, still carefully appraising him.

“No, nothing like that.” Vision shook his head, belatedly realizing that would have been an excellent cover story. “See, my girlfriend is from Novi Grad, she had to move after the incident, and—” he explained the predicament, and exactly what he was trying to accomplish.

“Oh.” The man paused. “Huh. Well, I’d check out the bakery. Katinka, the girl who works there, she can tell you a lot, and if she can’t, then her grandmother will be able to.” He looked Vision up and down a final time. “Just don’t interfere with business, and I’m sure they will help you.”

Vision looked in the direction the man indicated. “Thank you very much, sir. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” The man walked off, shaking his head.

Vision entered the bakery hesitantly. He didn’t want to detract from business, but generally avoided buying or eating food, as a rule. The bakery was currently empty, however, so he didn’t feel quite as bad about taking up the woman’s time.

She was behind the counter, busy wrapping up various pastries and breads. “Can I help you?” she asked, glancing up.

Vision briefly explained his goals once again. The woman put down her parcels of food.

“Wow. That’s so sweet.” She smiled. “I’d be happy to help! My name is Katinka.”

“Victor,” Vision said smoothly, using the alias he’d adopted for visiting Wanda.

“Nice to meet you, Victor.” Katinka leaned in conspiringly. “I’m really not supposed to do this—my grandmother would kill me if she found out—but I can give you our family recipes, if you want.”

Vision nodded so enthusiastically he began to feel dizzy. “That would be wonderful!”

“Okay, well, the first thing you do is—” Katinka stopped. “Oh, do you need to write this down?”

“I will remember,” Vision said confidently.

Katinka looked skeptical, but didn’t argue with him. “All right. The first thing you do is . . .”

Vision did remember Katinka’s instructions. He remembered them in the same vivid detail that he remembered everything else that had ever happened to him. That wouldn’t be of any help to him, however, if the dough continued to be uncooperative.

He should’ve practiced.

After leaving Katinka’s bakery full of confidence and gratitude, he’d managed to track down the other people she’d suggested, her grandmother and uncle. They were all very helpful, and Vision had thought that everything was going wonderfully. The cabbage soup was simmering, he’d successfully fried the topinky bread (though he was concerned about the large amount of garlic Katinka had told him to use), and the schnitzel was far easier than he’d expected after Katinka’s grandmother’s demonstration.

The trouble came, however, when he tried to make the buchty for dessert. The sweet dumpling, as Katinka had explained, was usually filled with a fruit confit, but he hadn’t even gotten started on that yet, because the dough was just not working!

The consistency was all wrong. Perhaps it needed some more flour? Vision turned, grabbing the bag of flour with one hand, but his other hand was covered in sticky bits of dough. He tried to gently shake it off, and when that didn’t work, scraped his fingers on the edge of the bowl. It only occurred to him later that if he’d simply phased his hand and let the dough fall off, he could’ve avoided what happened next.

In his frustration with the dough, he involuntarily squeezed the open bag of flour in his other hand, causing a puff of the white powder to envelop his face. This in turn, surprised him so much that the bag slipped from his fingers and hit the ground, spilling flour all over the floor. Vision stood frozen in the mess, filled with the overwhelming urge to laugh at his misfortune. Before he could decide on the appropriate response, however, he heard the sounds of the front door opening.

Wanda was home.

"Vizh?" Wanda opened the door to her small Edinburgh apartment, trying to push down her budding excitement. "Is that you?" She knew it was him, she could sense his mind from blocks away, but he wasn't supposed to be here for another week. 

"Wanda?" Vision's voice came from around the corner, and the slight panic in his mind made her pause in the door. "You're back earlier than—” He appeared in front of her, phasing through part of the wall. He took a deep breath like he was steading himself and smiled at her. "Hello.”

"Hi." Wanda held back a giggle and threw her arms around his neck. "What are you doing here?" she murmured into the fabric of his sweater. She pulled back, her brain finally registering the rest of his attire. "And why are you wearing an apron? Are you cooking?"

"I—well," Vision rubbed the back of his neck. "I was trying to—"

"To cook for me?" Wanda interrupted excitedly, beaming. 

Vision nodded, looking down. "Certain things didn't work the way I anticipated, plus you arrived early, so—"

"Can I help?" Wanda interrupted again. "Or not, if you would rather this be one of those things you do for me by yourself."

"Your aid would be much appreciated."

Wanda grinned, throwing her arms around him again. "You're the best, you know that?"

"You’ve yet to see the kitchen," Vision deflected.

"What did you do to the kitchen?" Wanda pushed past him into the other room, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her.

She froze in the door, staring, her mouth falling open.

There was flour all over the place, the floor, the cabinets, the counter, plus a glob of some kind of dough on the wall that Vision had phased through. She figured that the mess was one of the things that Vision hadn't anticipated, but she barely noticed any of it. She was too caught up in what assaulted the rest of her senses.

Vision shifted uncomfortably, misinterpreting her silence. He stepped forward to pick up the bag of flour. "I apologize for the mess. I was—"

"What’s that smell, Vizh?" Wanda's shoulders were tense, and she knew Vision could see it, and she knew she should reassure him that she wasn't upset, but the scent of those spices and the sight of those ingredients were bringing tears to her eyes and the last thing she wanted was for him to think he made her cry when he was such a sweetheart for attempting to do this in the first place.

Vision clearly didn't know what to do, eyes flicking from Wanda to the kitchen and back again. “Uh, well, I made topinky, cabbage soup, and schnitzel. I was attempting buchty, but as you can see, that didn’t go according to plan.”

Wanda whirled around to face him, throwing herself in his arms for the third time. "I love you," she breathed, unable to come up with any other coherent thought. “I love you so much.”

Vision stiffened, arms still around Wanda, but there was no hesitation in his words. "I love you, too, Wanda."

Wanda kissed him, staying in his arms for as long as she could before she had to pull away. "Why—I mean, what made you decide to—" she waved her hand helplessly at the counter. 

Vision looked uncomfortable again. "You seemed like you could use a taste of home."

Wanda smiled, tears pricking her eyes again. "Thank you, Vizh."

“Of course.”

Wanda examined Vision’s first batch of dough. “I hate to say it, babe, but this seems unsalvageable.”

Vision nodded. “I figured as much.” He crouched down and began sweeping the spilled flour into piles with his hands.

“You know that I can get all of that?” Wanda snapped her fingers, letting out a spark of red. “If you’d like.”

“Be my guest.” Vision stood, giving her a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

She smiled, setting down the bowl. This would be harder than most things she manipulated, but if she could extract a cloud of gas from a building, she could clean up a little flour.

A sweep of her hands and few flicks of her fingers, and delicate wisps of red were plucking at the grains of flour, gathering them together into a dust-cloud in the middle of the room. When she was sure she had it all, she sent it flying into the trash can, closing the lid with a satisfying clang.

Wanda turned to Vision, grinning. “Nothing to it.”

“It would appear not.” Vision smiled back at her, and then hesitated like there was something else he wanted to say.

“Yes?” Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to wait to give these to you,” Vision reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small bag. Wanda recognized it instantly, and her eyes widened. “I thought that there wouldn’t be any harm in rescuing a few of your belongings from the compound. These seemed small enough to go unnoticed.”

Wanda stumbled forward and took the bag from him, fingers trembling as she undid the drawstring and let the contents tumble into her hand. It was her rings, all of them, the ones she’d been wearing when she’d been arrested and the ones she’d left in her room. She put them on immediately, and then laughed, pulling them off again.

“Is everything all right?” Vision asked nervously.

“Yes, don’t worry.” Wanda pressed a kiss onto his lips. “I just can’t cook with all the rings on.”

“Oh, right.” Vision looked embarrassed, and Wanda giggled. He gestured to the ingredients on the counter. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely.”

Cooking was much more enjoyable when Wanda was there to help. It frustrated Vision no end that he couldn't seem to master it, but Wanda's assurances that even many humans are terrible cooks did somewhat mollify him. The food turned out delicious, according to Wanda. He declined to have any so that Wanda would have plenty of leftovers for the rest of the week, but she did make him try a taste of each dish, and he had to admit that the palate was unlike anything he’d tried before.

Vision dried the last of the dishes as Wanda arranged the leftovers in the fridge, humming to herself. Vision figured this was as good a time as any to bring up the next item on his agenda. 

"Wanda?"

"Hmm?" Her head was still in the tiny fridge, shoving things around.

"What song is that? You hum it often."

"Oh." Wanda straightened, letting the fridge door swing shut. "Uh, just something my dad used to listen to. An old Sokovian folk song. I don't really remember the words."

"Would you like to hear it?" Vision asked, producing a small CD player from where he’d stashed it in the cabinet.

"What?" Wanda cocked her head to the side. "There's no way that you—"

Vision pressed play. 

The familiar melody filled the air. Vision was impressed at how well Wanda had been reproducing it after all these years. 

She was silent while the song played, but she didn't try to stop the tears from falling this time. 

Vision paused the CD before the next track could play, the anxious knot in his stomach now a familiar sensation. 

"How did you do that?" Wanda breathed, "Where did you—"

"There was an old street performer in Novi Grad. He claimed to play nearly forgotten music, so I asked him about the song you always sing. It took some time, but he finally figured out which one I meant. He made a CD with that song, and others he thought you might know, and—" Vision reached into the cabinet again, fumbling slightly. Wanda twirled her fingers, and took the CD player from him with a few curls of scarlet, freeing his hands. "And he wrote down the sheet music, so you can learn to play them, if you want. I would have gotten you an instrument—I know you used to play guitar—but I wasn't sure what would be the most appropriate—"

"Vizh." Wanda said quietly, still balancing the CD player with her powers. "I'm so confused. Why did—How—When did you go to Novi Grad?”

The frustration in her voice and the tears still lingering on her face made Vision rapidly rethink his plan. Unfortunately, it was far too late to turn back now.

"Well, I guess—" He stumbled over the words. "Can we go sit down, and I'll explain?"

Wanda nodded, pulling the CD player towards her and cradling it to her chest as she followed him to the couch. 

Vision waited until she was sitting comfortably with her feet curled under her, facing him. She was still clutching the CD player, but Vision took that as a good sign. He templed his fingers in his lap, staring down at them.

"I guess the simplest explanation is that I wanted you to know that you didn't have to completely give up your identity—whether that's your culture, or your personality, or anything else about you—just because you're a fugitive. You can still interact with all of these aspects that make you feel like yourself," Vision explained quietly. “So, I took a trip to Novi Grad to see if I could find something to help you feel better. I met a very nice woman who taught me to bake. Her grandmother taught me to cook, and her uncle was the street performer I mentioned.”

Wanda let out a breath. "Vizh, that's—I—" She broke off helplessly, holding out a hand towards his head. "Can I—?”

"Of course."  Vision leaned closer, always welcoming a stronger connection with her, especially when she was articulating complicated emotions. 

A few drops of red crossed the distance between her fingertips and his forehead, and then he was hit with a wave of warmth, and love, and gratitude, and just a hint of unworthiness, all jumbled together with confusion that anyone would go to all this trouble for her. 

"It's not silly," Vision said immediately, picking up on the errant thought that she had been making a fuss over nothing. "There's nothing silly or inconsequential about your feelings, Wanda." He could tell she didn't quite believe him, or thought he didn't quite understand what she meant, so he persisted. "You think that your feelings of losing your identity were unfounded and ridiculous, and that's simply not the case."

Wanda shrugged, looking away. "I guess, but they certainly weren't worth all this."

"Of course they were," Vision insisted, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his lips. "Darling, you're the one who's always telling me that my feelings are valid, no matter what they are, and I want to show you that yours are as well."

Wanda was crying again. She pulled one of her hands back to swipe at her cheeks, and Vision reached out to cradle her face between his hands, wiping the tears away for her. "I apologize if this was too much. I don't think I've quite got the hang of what is an appropriate gesture. I just want you to know that—as you always tell me—whatever you're feeling is important to me. I want to do what I can to make you happy. Always."

Wanda bit her lip, nodding, and then pulled him close for a kiss. She didn't have the words to thank him, but she made sure that, through both her thoughts and her kisses, Vision knew exactly what he meant to her. 

[tattooed-alchemist]

Above is the video I shot in 2009 when the Greenwood mural was unwrapped in the aftermath of the Greenwood Arsonist.  

I recently went into part of Razzi’s Pizzeria which I had never been in before, down in their basement, it was the kids zone, which leads to a useful exit.  And in the kids zone, there on the walls, lo and behold...

The other chunk of the mural is outside of the Naked City Brewery, across the street.