#salt creek falls

[travelbinge]

By Shortstache

Salt Creek Falls, Oregon, USA

[stochastique-blog]

false

Salt Creek Falls, OR

[nayaesworld]

11:11

Biker!Terry Richmond x Charlie

—

—

Friday was usually an extremely busy day at the diner, but as the day dragged on Charlie had only served her regulars and a few families passing through the small town. She was scheduled to work 3pm-12am today and had only gotten through two hours so far. Her favorite coworker was off so it was just a new girl named Dawn and the two night cooks Dj and Trey. The diner was empty once again and she sat quietly behind the counter on a stool, eyes running left to right as she read the new fantasy book from the library. Illustrations of a black witch uncovering the history of her ancestors occupied her head as she flipped page after page hungry for more. The local news station on the small flatscreen sent out an advisory for a thunderstorm that would be rolling in later that evening. That explained the gloomy skies and empty diner at least. Charlie and Dawn filled salt shakers and sorted the silverware,mugs, and glasses. And when they finished chatting about pop news and hair care routines, Charlie was warming up to the girl slowly and when she clocked out at 10:30 she actually had started to get bored without conversation.

Charlie balanced two cups of coffee and a large platter of flapjacks in her hands. Her favorite regulars, an older black couple in their 50’s that treated her like family more than her own father sometimes. The Leflore’s had welcomed her with open arms her first year at the diner. She reminded them of their late daughter Kamryn and she remembered vividly Tammy Lefore bawling her eyes out to her one day in the plush booths of the diner. Tammy and Aubrey typically came in later because they loved to help her get to the end of her shift and look out for her. Silver Creek was a small town and everyone knew everyone for the most part but crime had picked up in the last year and it wasn’t always safe after dark. She sat with them and they told her about their upcoming trip to Cozumel Mexico. They would be gone a week and Charlie pouted at the news, she loved seeing and talking to them but a whole week would be gray without them. But promises of souvenirs and gifts kept her sadness at bay.

They bid their see you laters and she watched their sleek white Cadillac truck pull out of the parking lot. And like clockwork the rain began to come down hard. She bussed her tables and secured her tips into her apron, she loved the rain, it was peaceful and serene on some days but nights like this one it was thunderous and loud. But above the heavy tinkling of the rain was a sound she was becoming acquainted with…the sound of that Sapphire black Bonneville Bobber. He came into the diner every night at 11:11 on the dot, how strange that she even remembered the growl of his bike when she hadn’t seen the man in at least a month. How even stranger it was that she felt eager to see him…he barely talked when he had been there in the past, just grumbling here and there before he ate his fill and left. She fingered her passion twist out of habit as her eyes watched him park his bike and job into the diner,built muscles bunched beneath his wet leather jacket as a mug hung on his stoic chiseled face. He shrugged out of the jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the door. She opened her mouth to greet him but her words got caught in her throat as he pulled out a chair from the bar top and sat directly in front of her.

“Hell my little dove..long time no see.” He extended his arm out, a singular red rose in his hand gifted from him to her. She pricked her thumb on a thorn and shook her hand at the slight pain, a tiny bead of blood falling down onto the counter. She excused herself before rushing to the back of the diner for a bandaid.

His hands tapped anxiously against the bartop, his eyes trying their best to not drop down and lay upon the tiny droplet of blood…the smell was intoxicating, and before he could stop himself his index finger had swiped the blood from the counter and sucked it into his mouth. This was the very reason he had chosen to stay away from the small town, he was afraid of what he might do, afraid of how he would appear to the pretty little waitress. He blinked and shook his head trying to get the black irises to go away, how would he explain the quick change from hazel eyes to black ones…it looked unnatural, unsafe even. When he was sure they had gone back to normal he lifted his head and surveyed his surroundings. Three humans, two males in the kitchen…and her.

When Charlie returned, finger smugly secured by a bandaid she quickly apologized before formally greeting the intriguing stranger whose name she still didn’t know.

“Don’t apologize for bleeding, that’s normal. I should have checked the rose for thorns, that was my fault. I’m Terry by the way.. nice to meet you Charlie.”

Before she could question how he knew her name she looked down at her name tag and giggled softly.

“Well it’s nice to formally meet you Terry, what will you be having tonight.” His knuckles rapped against the counter and he held her gaze.

“A glass of water is fine, I’m on a pretty strict diet at the moment..just came inside to get out of the rain before passing on.” She nodded before grabbing a clean glass and filling it to the brim with chilled water.

“Where are you heading..if you don’t mind me asking.?” She slid the glass of water over to him and watched as he held it up to his nose before drinking it.

“No where specific..might even hang around here for a while, it’s pretty damn scenic up here.”

“Now that I can agree with , it’s a small town but it has its perks. There’s something for everyone here.”

“And what’s here for you…what keeps you here?” The question was one she couldn’t say she’d ever been asked before. People rarely considered her likes and dislikes. Rarely asked her if she was ok.

“Outside of my family and friends, it’s the culture for me. So much damn history embedded into such a little town, so many stories of our people…how they settled here and how hard they had to fight to stay here.” He hummed and seemed genuinely pleased with her answer, gleaming grey blue eyes combing over every part of her face.

“Well aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine…I’d love learn more about the history of this place. It’s so…mystic.” There was that damn grumbling again.

“There’s a library in town not far from here the-“ The loud thud of Terry placing the glass down made Charlie jump.

“I want you to tell me. You are a native after all..I want it straight from the horse's mouth. You seem extremely knowledgeable and I’m very ignorant of your town, I'm afraid.” His eyes drew her in, made her feel fearless.

But she was still apprehensive…and yet she longed to put herself out there to try new things and enjoy new people. Handsome strangers were still strangers and she owned a gun. She could handle her own.

“Ok but under one condition. We take your super cool bike and we go Tuesday..deal?” He shook her extended hand. His thumb rubbing over the back side of her hand softly before she pulled her hand back.

“A deal I can live with little dove.” His bright smile made his eyes crinkle and Charlie found herself hoping to see more of it.

“Why do you call me that..little dove?” Every word he uttered to her made it seem as though he was all too familiar with her, she was curious.

“There’s an air of gentle peace and innocence that surrounds you..perhaps you don’t see it as others do.” Charlie had a hard time listening to people tell her that she was a good person,a good girl. They always used her own kindness and generosity against her. She knew that she could live her whole life by the book only ever doing right by people, and yet still be fucked over…a learning curve indeed.

“I the dove and you the crow I assume…Why the crows?”She gestured to the bold black ink against his honeyed skin enamored her. A beautifully crafted portrait that depicted a murder of crows. Probably the most creative tattoo sleeve she had ever seen.

“We’re taught that crows are scavengers that represent death. That their very presence should place fear in your heart because you or a loved one may be next to die.. but I have come to know these birds as signs of rebirth and cleansing. That they carry the DNA of every dead creature with them wherever they fly, somewhat keeping them alive forever.”

Wow. There was true beauty in an intellectual man. You didn’t see that too often around these parts. Charlie wanted to pick his brain for hours, to learn what interested him, and why he felt so damn intoxicating. But her fear of being perceived held back the many questions she had for the man.

“I like that, it’s poetic. It Means something to you, what a beautiful piece of art to walk with daily.” He thanked her graciously for allowing him to blab on and on about the tattoo telling her that others rarely asked of its meaning.

He inquired about the portraits of people that lined the wall behind her. Pictures of people old and young, from so many backgrounds, some taken inside and outside the diner. It gave the place character and that good ole fashioned charm that you couldn’t get in many places anymore.

“These are our customers, some of these pictures were here before me but all the new ones I’ve taken myself. Just a little ode to the people that keep this place open…if you’d like I could take yours also before we close up.”

By 11:40 Dj and Trey had shut down the kitchen and bid their goodnights. Charlie maneuvered around the diner wiping down tables and sweeping the floor. Terry had slipped away into the restroom to relieve himself before he left and Charlie was heading to the back office to retrieve the camera they used for photos. The rain had since stopped falling and she felt the perfect picture would be best with Terry outside near his bike. The aesthetics of the starry night sky and the shiny black bike would mesh well with his large bulky stature.

“You can loosen up a bit..maybe a big bright smile.” He cocked a thick brow at her and his face stayed unmoved and his bulky arms stayed crossed as he…posed?

Giggling to herself she put the camera up to her eye and snapped the first picture. But when she pulled the camera back from her eye, the only thing in the photo was his bike. The air around her felt cold and constricting. How was that even possible when he was standing right in front of her? She cleared her throat before lifting the camera back to her face. She was sure there was a logical explanation for this.

“Uh the camera was on the wrong setting let’s go again.” She blew cold air out of her nose before placing the camera back up to her face, left eye closed and right eye focused on the smirking man in front of her. The flash went off and it lit up his face..he had to have been on camera this time.

Charlie checked the camera again. A loud gasp leaving her mouth for the second time…he was nowhere in the picture. This was a joke right? Someone had touched the camera and was playing a prank on her. Heavy boots crunched under the gravel coming closer and closer. The tiny hairs on her arm began to raise and her heart thudded loudly in her chest. When he finally stood inches away from her the camera slipped from her fingers and onto the moist ground. Her neck craned to stare into the face of the man. Green eyes seemingly glowing as they captured hers. Every instinct in her was calling for her to run, to save herself from a dark fate. But it was as if she was stuck in place.

“Calm your heart little dove. I promise to never pluck a hair from your pretty little head..we have too much work to do. So much to uncover.” He placed a large hand over her chest,careful to not touch her breast. And let his odd eyes close and feel the rushing of her heart under his hand. He put that fear there.

“Please..I don’t want to die. You can take anything from the diner but please..please. I won’t tell anyone else about this I swear.” Tears fell now. People always made it seem as if death wasn’t anything to fear, that it would come quick and swift without a sound. But Charlie feared it..wasn’t ready for it..so soo much work left to do, so many things in life she had yet to accomplish.

“Nothing in that diner is as valuable as you are..it’s fine time you learned that little dove. It’s fine time you’ve learned your place in this world, I will guide you as you will me.” The hand on her chest was now on her shoulder. And Charlie was never good at riddles, never really liked them. But what did he mean?

“Terry, you don't know me. What makes you think you know anything about my whereabouts in this world…this is crazy talk. I don’t believe you.”

“Do you believe what you saw on your camera then? Is that the only deciding factor between real and fake? You should look harder..I was always in the picture, just not something your fear would let you decipher.” He squatted down to retrieve the camera and dusted the small chunks of mud that stuck to its lenses before placing it back in her hands.

A deep breath. What if she was going crazy, what if Terry had been in the picture the whole time. She was scared to click through the camera and see, but she felt compelled to do so. Click. The first picture..she grappled with what she was looking at. In Terry's place against his bike was a…a creature. Something tall and sinister. It’s green eyes looking directly into the camera, long claws gripping the handles of the bike..just as Terry had. The camera dropped to the ground once more and she took off running towards the diner. She yanked and pulled on the door and yet it was sealed shut, she knew she didn’t lock it she would never be that forgetful. But he was walking closer now, closing the space between them.

“If you come any closer I’ll shoot you. Step any closer and I will blow your damn head off!” Charlie’s back was against the locked doors and she watched the man advance forward not caring for her threat.

“That may have been true if it wasn’t behind the counter in your bag. I said I wasn’t going to hurt you. I only wanted to reveal my true self to you..you’re the first human I’ve shown myself to in 200 hundred years. I trust you.”

It was clear now. He was on drugs, hard ones. No human would be alive for 200 hundred years and as for him knowing the location of your bag..he had to have been snooping around the bar one day while you were preoccupied. This was all a big fucking joke and a waste of Charlie’s time.

“Terry, stop it. You’re human just like me. You eat AND drink just like me..made from flesh and bone just like me. Are you on drugs..if so there’s a really nice rehab center the next city over. They helped a family member of mine once.” Charlie was hell bent on proving to Terry that his line was just heavily deluded, he would be fine once those drugs left his system.

“If you were over 200 years old your heart wouldn’t beat..you wouldn't be standing here right now. See my heart beats and yours will do the same.” Charlie placed her hand to his chest and felt..nothing. She assumed it was faint but when she loved her hand and tried placing it directly on his heart. Still nothing. No beating, just hot skin.

“Why me Terry..you could have done this to anyone else why me. I don’t want to know this..whatever you are. You can’t trust me with this information..I’ll tell everyone.” Charlie knew she was bluffing. She knew even more that someone would label her crazy if she repeated anything from this night.

“You don’t believe that. In your heart you’ll do what’s right every time. Just trust me and I promise I will tell you everything Tuesday. But if you find yourself needing me before then use this. Your father will be here shortly, be safe little dove.” He handed her a small metal oval shaped object, incantations that would summon him were engraved around the edges. His tall form retreated and he hopped on his bike. He shot her a toothy grin before his face disappeared behind his helmet and she watched him until he disappeared into the distance.

Exhaustion gripped Charlie on the road home with her father. Her body was heavy and she felt like she’d worked a 24 hour shift as her eyes drooped and her clammy hands shook in her lap. Rest was what she needed. A hot shower, some tea and her bed but outside of the weariness she felt, her mind drifted to Terry over and over. The fear that gripped her tonight felt foreign, like her body had never felt that afraid her whole life. Would curiosity kill her just as it had done the cat? Or would she be spared by a force she couldn’t see.

They arrived home rather quickly. Her father Hank walked over to open her door and carry in her bags. She took her time stepping out of the car, limbs aching to be stretched and soothed by hot water. She sighed deeply and began walking up the steps of their home. But a loud caw stopped her in her tracks. A lone crow sat in the magnolia tree in her front yard. The shiny onyx feathers dancing with the moonlight and giving the bird a striking appearance. But this crow was no ordinary crow and as she stepped closer she realized its black beady eyes had been traded for green ones..familiar green eyes. It cawed once more at her before it bowed, extended a wing, and flew away. Leaving in its wake a dark feather that she took inside with her.

__

@zillasvilla @luvrsluxe @becauseimswagman1 @writingsbytee @venusincleo @blyffe @rawflwrs @1darknymph @thabiddie23 @tvchi @kenshisluvrgirl @alyssawritcs @ranikyani @23jammy @keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @simplyzeeka @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @miyuhpapayuh @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @notapradagurl7 @slvt4her

[peloblancophoto]

Salt Creek Falls Sunrise

[ofmermaidstories]

fantasy au idea where your village is razed to the ground in the middle of the night by soldiers. you escape, just barely, half-crazed—but there is no where to run. your village is bordered by the ocean, by mountains and the hilly pastures that are now burning bright as the screams from the homes in the village follow you out into a dark copse of trees, hoping for cover.

you don’t see the archer, but he sees you, leaping over clumps of grass and dirt and stumbling like a drunk. his aim is true, and you gasp as the arrow pierces you.

you drop to your knees, the pain of the rocks you fall against, dull. vaguely, you’re aware of cold, fast water, soaking through your woollen skirt and weighing you down and if you had sense, still, you’d realise you’ve fallen into one of the creeks that vein through the forest—but you don’t. your face is wet, warm salt, and the last thing you think of, strangely, is the loaf of bread your neighbour had broken with you, just that morning, as she cackled over her own joke.

and then you pitch forward into the shallow water, already gone, and somewhere in the dark woods, a single owl calls out; the shadow of it cutting across the golden-hot light your village’s destruction as the edge of your skirt brushes against the submerged rocks.

(when the answering contingent of knights arrives in the village a few weeks later, it’s to scorched, blackened earth: the foundations of the buildings that had been here left like charred bones, picked apart and appealing to the sky.

kacchan is scowling, already barking out orders for the others to find what remains they can, to gather them, for graves to be dug—izuku sickened as he lets himself drop from his horse, his boots sinking into soft ash.

“even out here?” he asks, helplessly. uselessly. of course even out here. the capital’s army had marched through the land easily, without resistance. kacchan, who doesn’t spare him the pity anymore, frowns at him.

“take some of the others!” he says, but izuku is already walking away with a wave as he crosses over into the burnt fields, rising up from the woodland that reaches back to the mountains. it’s only when he gets to the edges of the trees that he pauses, his hand on the hilt of his sword—it’s quiet, in the trees. a lone whistle of a bird falling into silence as he approaches. izuku waits; the bird doesn’t regain its song, something about the silence, the air, paused but before he can decide if its a trap or magic there’s the crack of a branch, and the sudden, startling flurry of a flock of birds taking flight at the same time, izuku shielding his face from the frantic brush of their feathers and air as they dart past. his heart is pounding, with the surprise. he waits a heartbeat, a hard thump, and then another and another and when he at last lets his arms drop and looks up he’s startled again: you, standing there before him, grim.

“Who—” he starts to ask, but your face twists and before he can react the earth itself upturns itself; rocks at his feet where there were none, throwing him off balance as the ground shifts, trees bending down to protect you, to push izuku back.

GET OUT, he hears—he feels. it burns like a tight pain, across his mind and startled again he cries out before he lands on his ass, back out in the black earth of the burnt field, the forest crackling and creaking as somewhere, just beyond his sight, things rearrange themselves back to order again.

a survivor? he wonders, half in fear, half in hope. or something else?

and you—

your feet are muddy, sinking into moss as the ground where the knight stood fills itself in, marshy at first before it drains, green and undisturbed once more. at your back, an owl calls out, and you wait a moment—watching the treeline, waiting, but then the call sounds again and you turn, obeying.)

[bettysupremacy]

another request for finnick, just a lil bit of angst as him and her get into a fight and then they make up. angst and then some fluff

love letter to finnick. maybe this is like the before of this

It’s dark in the large bedroom you cave yourself in, and it seems even darker post argument.

Your eyes ache dully, even closed they beg to be soothed. You can’t believe the contents of the last hour, they play behind your eyelids as you pray for comfort. This is the worst. The worst. The watch sitting on your bedside table reads midnight when you pick it up gently.

“Fuck,” it’s cold in your hand, pulling you closer to the real world you’d tried desperately to escape with sleep.

At home in district four, you hear the waves of a homely sea outside your window. Finnick is out there, for sure, swimming in the seas he knows you don’t like him in after dark. Some of the things he said were hurtful, but he said them out of fear. Fear of what would happen to you, to the peace he’d created at the shoreline of district four.

It’s quiet until the creek of your door alerts you. It’s slow, obvious the person behind it wants you asleep, and you know it’s Finnick by the way his feet fall on the hardwood floor.

“Baby?” He whispers. The name feels good at a time like this. You hardly fight, and when you do, it isn’t even really an argument. More of a disagreement.

“Are you awake?”

You contemplate lying and the good that will come from it. Ultimately nothing, but you wait a second anyways, listening to the air in your room shuffle in his wake.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, voice cracking. You can hear him bring his hands up, rough palms pressing into his eyes, staving away the tears he knows bound to come.

You turn, hearing the crinkle of the crisp sheets as you face him. He flinches, he didn’t think you were awake.

“I’m sorry,” He says for a different reason now. “I thought you were asleep.”

“No,” You say quietly, for no reason other than a little shame. “can’t sleep alone.”

He steps closer daringly, pulling his shirt off before he crawls under your covers. His hair is wet and smells like salt. Any other day you’d fret over your clean sheets, but now you pull him closer, tangling your hands in his wet hair. You brush it away from his eyes, letting them roam over your face.

“We’ll be fine, Finnick.”

He lets out a strangled breath, burying into your chest. His shoulders shake miserably as he grasps you desperately.

“You heard Beetee,” You’re referencing the phone call you’d gotten after the announcement of the quarter quell. “he’s got a plan.”

You let him cry, never quieting the tears he wish he could quiet himself. It’s scary, definitely, and you can’t imagine how he feels going into the arena with you.

“It’s me and Mags.” You say definitively. “And I’m not letting her in that arena.”

He pulls up, glossy eyes terrified. “You can’t.”

She’s old, nearing the end he wants to say, but he knows it’s not right, he loves the woman.

“I’m not letting her in that arena,” you push slightly. “I can survive, see the plan through, but she’s old, Finnick, she can’t last the games again.”

He nods, defeated. “I’ll keep you safe.”

You say nothing, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. Then, “I know.”

He chases the feeling of your lips, kissing you softly. “Me and you.”

“And Beetee, and wiress.”

“Me and you.” He repeats.

“And katniss, and Peeta.”

He laughs quietly, nosing at your cheek. “Stop it.”

“I’m sorry,” you preen. “Me and you.”

[pink-ladybugs]

Harvest Moon Ch. 1

Farmhand Abby Anderson x Femme Reader

Inspired by:

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Description: Fluff, angst, friends to lovers, time skip. Abby Anderson farmhand AU. Modern AU.

Plot: You and Abby had been best friends since childhood. You basically grew up together in a small town in eastern Washington. However, a vicious fight separates the two of you. Only the most unpredictable circumstance can bring you back together. This is the first installation.

─────── 6 years ago ───────

“Abby’s here!” Uncle Dan shouts from downstairs. You rush to take out the rollers from your hair. Bouncy curls fall from where they were pinned in your half-assed attempt to do a blow out. Of course you didn’t practice your hair the night before. You silently reprimand yourself as you take out the final curl. Rubbing your lips together to make sure your lipstick is even, you hop down the stairs.

“Already? Prom starts at 8:00.” You say entering the kitchen where your uncle stands in his usual attire. A flannel and worn jeans. His work boots covered in mud. His smile shines through his salt and pepper beard.

“Well look who got all dressed up.” He says like a proud father. Well, he was the closest you had. Even though he was old enough to be your grandfather, Uncle Dan had adopted you when your parents passed away years ago.

His eyes glance to the door and you follow his gaze. Standing out on the porch was Abby. She looked just about as awkward as she always did. She had on a pair of black slacks and a white button up. Her dirty blonde hair in its usual braid and her feet in their usual work boots. Her back was straight and her hands were sweaty, gripping onto a bouquet of baby pink peonies.

“Hey.” She says taking a step into the kitchen. Her slight southern accent adds a sweet tang to whatever she says. You twirl around, showing off your dress.

“You ready for the best night of our lives?” You say sarcastically. Abby rolls her eyes.

“Oh yeah. Sweatin’ in the high school gym is where our lives will truly peak.” She says handing you the peonies.

“Look how chivalrous you are with the flowers.” You say taking a sniff. Abby’s cheeks flush for a moment before she averts her eyes.

“I figured since nobody asked you to be their date we could at least pretend.” She says with a smirk. You slap her on the shoulder and furrow your brow at the very unfunny joke.

Dan gives you two the usual talk before you two go anywhere together. Even though you and Abby are the least reckless kids in town and nothing crazy ever happens here anyways.

“No drugs, and no booze, and if someone offers you candy in a white van do not take it, and…” He rattles on.

“Okay! Thanks! We’ll see you later!” You say taking Abby’s hand and rushing the two of you down the porch steps.

“Drive safe!” He yells as the two of you climb into Abby’s pick up truck and start rolling down the driveway.

“We will!” Abby shouts out the driver side window. The truck drives down winding roads with the windows half open. As the sun sets, the fresh dusk air blows your hair back. You watch as vast properties of farmland zip by. Endless wheat fields and grassy plains with wildflowers pass you on your way to the high school.

You had lived in Dry Creek all your life. You knew everyone in your graduating class (a whopping 32 people.) Abby had been your only true friend for… well forever. Senior prom was supposed to be a fun moment. But all you could think about was the immense guilt you felt… you knew you had to tell Abby what’s been weighing on your mind. Tonight. But not yet, you can still make this the best night together ever. Even if it’ll be the last one for a while.

The truck pulls into the school parking lot. You and Abby get out and start walking towards the gym. Loud music booms and students chatter. The two of you give your tickets to the chaperones outside of the gym before entering. A sad excuse for a prom awaits you.

A couple of streamers decorate the ceiling of the gym. Not nearly enough to “transform a space.” A few kids litter the dance floor. No one dances, they all stand awkwardly with punch in their hands. A middle aged man with a fold up table clicks a few buttons on his laptop.

“Well that’s where the budget went. Look at how professional the DJ is.” Abby says sarcastically. You giggle as you walk towards the punch bowl. You pour yourself a glass and grimace once you take a sip.

“No I think it was the punch. They really went all out with the Kool Aid packets.” You remark. The two of you laugh as the music plays.

The rest of the night goes just as well as you would expect a prom in a high school gym out in the middle of nowhere to go. Mediocre. Once you and Abby have a few underwhelming dances (well, more of a sway really) to a couple of outdated songs, you head out to Abby’s truck.

“I think we can have a better time somewhere else.” Abby says as she climbs into the driver’s seat.

“I think we could have a better time anywhere than whatever that was.” You say shaking your head.

Abby drives to a small diner on the outskirts of town. The two of you order burgers to-go and get back in the truck.

“Where are we going then?” You ask with the hot bag of food in your lap.

“Be patient will you?” Abby says with a small smile. The truck disappears into the forest, it follows long dirt trails leading the two of you to the lake at the edge of town. As the truck slowly stops at the edge of the lake, you get the perfect view of fireflies dancing over the water. The night sky is littered with stars as the two of you walk over to the dock with your burgers.

“I needed this.” You say biting into your burger once the two of you were seated at the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the lake.

Abby grunts in agreement as she takes a bite of her own burger.

“I cant believe we did it. We actually graduated.” Abby says looking out onto the lake.

“Well we all knew that I would graduate. Jury was out on you for a while.” you say. Abby gives you a side eye.

“Whatever. Let’s talk about how you almost failed P.E. after only getting to level 15 on The FitnessGram PACER Test.” Abby bites back.

“I have asthma!” You protest. This gets a smirk and a chuckle out of Abby.

“As glad as I am that it’s over, I think I’ll miss it a little.” Abby says after a moment of silence.

“How can you say you’re going to miss it? It was the worst four years of our lives.” You jokingly scoff as you pop a french fry into your mouth.

“I’ll just miss you and me seeing each other everyday. I mean, I know that will never change. It’s not like we’re going anywhere. I think I’m just sad we’re not kids anymore. You know?” Abby says looking down at her burger. Your stomach churns from guilt. Maybe that will change…

“Abby I got something to tell you.” You say putting your burger down. Abby’s eyes meet yours. Your body feels like it’s on fire. You had never kept a secret from Abby before. It was killing you.

“I have something to tell you too actually.” She says. “But you go first.”

Your mind races as you try to piece together a good way to say this. You had already practiced in your head a million times the night before.

“Well you know how I applied to a bunch of universities? I was just messing around. I didn’t think I’d get in anywhere crazy.” You start. Your pointer finger picks at the skin on your thumb. Abby nods.

“Stanford gave me a scholarship…” You say. Abby’s eyes widen. “I guess my SAT score was really impressive…” you explain. Abby sits there with a shocked expression and lets silence take over. You desperately try to fill it with rambling. “Dan said he would help me with the rest. Obviously we’re gonna drive down there to tour the campus and everything and it’ll be tricky to move all my stuff to California but-“

“You’re leaving?” Abby asks. Her voice cracks. Your heart drops. This is exactly what you were afraid of.

“I mean I always knew I wasn’t fit for this small town stuff. You know that. I always wanted more, and Abby this is Stanford.” You plead. Abby shakes her head in disbelief.

“So you already accepted?” She asks, her eyes searching yours for any sign that this is a prank.

“Cmon Abby don’t be like that. Im sorry-“

“You cant just leave me- everybody behind!” She shouts. You are taken aback by her harsh tone. You had never seen this side of her before.

“Abby this is my chance to get out of this stupid town! Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“This stupid town? When did you become better than everyone?” She says standing up. You shoot up to meet her at eye level.

“Whats up with you? We always talk about how dumb this town is. You really want to stay here?” You ask with disbelief in your voice. You had no idea Abby would get so angry.

Abby frowns and stares at you, like she wants to say something but just can’t seem to get it out.

“You belong here. What do you need to go to California for? Everything you could ever need is right here!” She protests.

“Everything you could ever need is right here Abby. Maybe you can make a shitty life for yourself in this shitty town but I can’t! I need more!” You yell. Your cheeks turn red.

Abby looks pained at these words. You feel guilty for snapping at her but your anger gets the better of you.

“Abby, everyone does this at some point! It’s called growing up! You cant just stay in the same town forever. What, are you gonna die here? In Dry Creek?” You shout. Abby’s face twists in disgust. Like she doesn’t even know you anymore.

“Well if you hate it here so much Im glad you’re leaving.” She says as she walks towards her truck. You stare at her in disbelief as she walks away.

“Abby you cant just leave me here!” You say stomping after her. She gets in the drivers seat and puts her key in the ignition.

“If this town is so shitty and small than it won’t be too far to just walk home right?” Abby shouts angrily from inside the truck.

You grunt in frustration and disblief as you watch the truck leave. You look back out onto the lake and sigh. Your anger is replaced by sadness. You didn’t want to hurt Abby, but it seems like that was inevitable.

You start the trek home under the moonlight.

──────────୨ৎ─────────

Thank you for reading!!! I don’t know when the second installment will be but here is my first attempt at writing a fic.

[venlazlo]

Mistria VA Fancasts

work was killer, too tired to drawr today.

VA Fancasts under the cut w/ voice samples hehe.

Made in conjunction with my brother and we don't consume that much media so take this with a grain of salt and maybe drop a suggestion.

Nora - Leda Headey [Amelia - Infinity Train]

Holt - Sungwon Cho [Senshi - Dungeon Meshi]

Celine - Erica Mendez [Mia Karnstein - Code:Vein]

Dell - Noël Wells [Kelsey - Craig of the Creek]

March - Zeno Robinson [Hunter - The Owl House]

Olric - Joe Hernandez [Boucheron - Fire Emblem Engage]

Ryis - Marcus Scribner [Bow - She-Ra and the Princesses of Power]

Landen - Luc Roderique [King Harrow - The Dragon Prince]

Juniper - Veronica Taylor [Manuela - Fire Emblem Three Houses]

Valen - Cissy Jones - [Lilith Clawthorne - The Owl House]

Terithia - Cassie Ewulu [Saphir - Fire Emblem Engage] [Bonus]

Balor - Kumail Ali Nanjiani [Howell - Bee and Puppycat]

Hayden - Matt Mercer is just the obvious choice

Errol - J.K. Simmons [Stanford Pines - Gravity Falls]

Josephine - Roz Ryan [Cake the Cat - Adventure Time]

Hemlock - Bruno Campos [Prince Naveen - The Princess and the Frog]

Reina - Brenda Song [Anne Boonchuy - Amphibia]

Maple - Grace Rolek [Connie Maheswaran - Steven Universe]

Luc - Terrell Ransom Jr. [Darwin - The Amazing World of Gumball]

Elsie - Susan Egan [Rose Quartz - Steven Universe]

Adeline - Genesis Rodriguez [Perfuma - She-Ra tPoP]

Eiland - Brian Timothy Anderson [Rosado - Fire Emblem Engage]

Caldarus (Statue) - Glen McCready [Omeluum - Baldur's Gate 3]

Seridia - Mallorie Rodak [Frieren - Frieren] (placeholder i almost put veronica taylor again)

Darcy - Danica McKellar [M'Gann M'Orzz - Young Justice]

Louis - John Michael Higgins [Varrick - The Legend of Korra]

Merri - Elizabeth Grullon [Camila Noceda - The Owl House]

Vera - Kirby Howell-Baptiste [Grace Monroe - Infinity Train]

[sl-walker]

⭐️ for that fanfic directors commentary ask game?

Since you said Guy--

The Ocean Inland was the holiday piece that @daraoakwise requested as her present. The series it's part of (Carbon Cycle) is essentially the 'Rebirth' era of comics, versus the post-Crisis, pre-Flashpoint era (which I'm writing in Past Resolution's Power) and the New52 era (which I don't really touch on since it didn't interest me that much, aside Guy's Red Lantern book). But I treat all of those as separate 'reboots' because that makes a much more interesting story, especially as echoes from prior lifetimes keep pinging on our heroes in the modern day.

So, The Ocean Inland is essentially-- "How did Rebirth Era Guy get his ring?" It's also intended to set up a story Dara's working on with him by having a look at his first mission.

New52 reestablished Guy with a different backstory, but his post-Crisis one was my favorite -- abuse survivor manages to get out, earn two graduate degrees and become a teacher, only to have Hal's battery literally explode in his face, but only after getting hit by a bus. His personality 180, then his slow crawl back to something more like 'asshole with a heart of gold'. I didn't care for the modern revisions of it, so much.

So, this Guy went to University for criminal justice, played for Michigan, ended up hurt on the field, but even as he was graduating with his bachelor's at age 22, he was turning his attention towards-- maybe being a teacher, instead. He keeps feeling this tug towards it, but before he's even put his nice dress clothes away from commencement, the ring shows up.

Unlike prior versions of Guy, this one actually sits with that ring hovering there in front of him. He doesn't take it right away. I wanted to show that this version of him is impacted some by the subconscious influences of past lives; that he's got a more balanced view of the world, and even more importantly, a more balanced view of himself. He's still foul-mouthed and can be crass and crude, but he didn't spend seven years in a vegetative state. As he reflects-- it woulda been different when he was sixteen, an angry, abused kid, but he's not now.

He takes the ring and gets dragged to Oa for training, and there he meets teenage John Stewart, AWOL from his team. They fall in instantly together. I loved writing John here, because I love how their friendship quickly feels familiar and seasoned for both them and us, but have to acknowledge that they're both like-- really, really young, too. Like these guys are no where near the veteran Lanterns we knew pre-Flashpoint. They're rookies who don't even have the right to wear the corp's sigil on their uniforms yet.

A lot of this backstory is just setup for Dara and kind of a look at Guy as, basically, a kid. Both his cynicism as he was growing into his own skin, realizing how broken the system is, but also his innocence. This boy who reads by a dirty little creek, daydreaming, and pretends he's some run-away with a pack lunch in a handkerchief, free of all of the intersecting miseries of his lives and world. A kid who likes to imagine he can smell the ocean even from deeper into Baltimore, the salt and wind and water like a benediction that could wash him clean.

And he carries that forward to the Corps, where he finds himself in a leadership role, even though he's still a rookie. But he's John's right hand and when John asks him -- begs him -- to hold the line, then Guy does. And he gets banged up for it, and in the medbay on Oa, drifts in half dreams where all those lives he didn't live (but that were lived by him before him) are closer to the surface than ever.

So-- basically that. Backstory, introspection, asking what kind of man Guy is at such a young age, and how he handles his first FUBAR of a mission.

Thanks for the ask! ^_^

[aisling-saoirse]

Plant Profile: American Sycamore - Platanus occidentalis

No hot summer day at the creek would truly feel right without the solid white trunks of this wonderful species clinging to eroded banks. I've covered American Sycamore before but with winter coming it's the perfect time to spot their ghostly branches

The American Sycamore is a resilient fast growing yet strong wooded river's edge tree that can reach staggering sizes. The tree itself is easily recognized for its flakey bark that turns solid white as it stretches up into the branches with browns/greys/green splotches throughout. Sometimes called Buttonwood for it's seed ball fruit which are present throughout the winter, inside is full of fuzzy windblown seeds; as a kid I didn't know this and used to plant the balls in the ground whole, I never got a tree from it. The leaves are palmate, maple-like, typically more solid form yet a little pointed, staying light green and changing to a vibrant orange in the fall. These leaves can reach comically large sizes (See my hand compared to one below) and are also one of the preferred food sources for riverine invertebrates. The flowers are similar to the fruit, essentially rounded balls usually reddish in color which can be either male (erect stalks) or female (lax stalks) on the same tree.

P. orientalis (Aka Old World Sycamore) and London Plane (a horticultural hybrid between both species P. occidentalis × P. orientalis) are the closest trees visually to American Sycamore. If you're in the American east you won't really see the Eurasian Old World Sycamore, it's a Mediterranean species, you'll see London plane which usually has more shades of dull grey/tan brown/yellows in the bark (see image 4 below). Leaves of the London Plane are smoother, more distinct and flatter where the stem connects to the leaf (it looks like a norway maple leaf), P. occidentalis has its bottom two pinates stick out more at a sharper angle making the stem look further centered in the leaf (Image 3 above). Lastly the London Plane and Old World Sycamore usually have seed balls that come in pairs (just like us!) while American Sycamore has solitary fruit.

Native to the Eastern United States, the American Sycamore has a very large natural range. Reaching it's Northern most extent at the northern border of Massachusetts west to the Missouri River in Omaha, South to East Texas into San Antonio with a southeastern most range in (barely) Northern Florida. This tree is most commonly found in riparian zones or on alluvial river banks, best known throughout the Piedmont, sometimes in locations or elevations one would not expect. I've spotted it in Appalachia in Georgia and the Adirondacks of New York, on mountaintops in Pennsylvania and in Texas valleys, it can also grow as far south as Mexico.

In the many cities, Sycamore and the more common London plane (shown on a West Philadelphia street Image 5 below) grow so large they choke the sidewalk and cover our avenues. It can be tolerant of salt, drought, heat, and flooding. It has characteristics of early successional floodplain species without the weak wooded downsides. Sycamore grows fast, lives long and reach massive proportions (Image 6 is the largest Sycamore in CT, image by Marty Aligata) it's not unusual to find giants on historic colonial properties.

Culturally I can think of no better tree that captures that homey feeling of southern Pennsylvania better than a Sycamore. Those twisting shallow streams framed by massive pale branches dotted with lime green leaves floating gently in a humid breeze. Famed painter Andrew Wyeth in his painting "Pennsylvania Landscape" thought of no better tree to represent this better than our Sycamore, though he called it 'Buttonwood'. (Image 7 below courtesy of the Brandywine art museum) Most of my images come from the same Brandywine river of which the Wyeths based their studio (I liked hiking in Chester county).

Ecology: The American Sycamore is rather important within it's range, the root systems often prevent erosion along stream banks (see Image 1). The tree serves as nesting/dens for a variety of bird and mammals species as interior cavities are common on living trees. The tree is host to multiple moth species. The fallen leaves of American sycamore are some of the more common food sources for stream based invertebrates, second only to American ash species (Fraxinus) which have a low tannin leaf content.

Sycamore are often a pioneer species on disturbed floodplain sites, however, it will not disappear from these communities like typical early succession species as it can live an extremely long lifespan. The fast growth capabilities allow it to survive into later stages of succession and will outlive any competition. It has the third fasted growth rates of any eastern species, loosing only to Cottonwood and Black willow (both short-lived). Older Sycamores can grow massive, develop multiple trunks, grow sideways, and survive getting hit by a house in flood waters (Image 8 above along the Brandywine). I really can't emphasize enough this tree is a survivor.

In Appalachia studies have shown that Sycamore may be a useful species to grow in reclaimed coal mining sites due to its low leaf browse and growth rates (doi.org/10.1016/j.foreco.2010.11.018). Unfortunately the tree tends to also capture a lot of heavy metals in its leaf content.

Uses: Primary commercial uses for sycamore are for pulpwood, veneer, and butcher blocks. I was told as a scout that you can drink the sap as purified water in an emergency however I've seen people do this with cottonwoods and vomit, so I won't recommend. My indigenous peers don't have sycamore where they live so I have nothing to report on Indigenous relationships which I typically cover. This may be because the wood also rots easily, it is not edible and so its uses are limited.

Propagation: American Sycamore is super easy to propagate, In late autumn after leaf fall try to take a cutting from a young branch and place it in the ground. They can take without rooting hormone and can easily grow to 6' in a few years. The seeds are also reliable but have lower viability.

Landscape Value: I've beat to death the point that I love this tree and it will remain beautiful for centuries likely outliving us all. Sycamore has excellent form (image 9) and fast hardy growth, but has three suburban downsides: it can displace sidewalk, its shedding bark, and introduced disease. Plane Anthracnose Disease, a European pathogen, is affecting this species in the Northern portion of it's range. This won't often kill a sycamore but will form unsightly defoliation and cankers causing a 'witches broom' cluster of new growth branches. Londonplane is resistant to this disease however it does not have the same ecological value to the lower area of the food chain. This however has caused the American sycamore to become less common in nurseries.

So this has been my piece on the American Sycamore, look around your rivers and streams for those distinct white branches, pick up a sapling if you want a fast growing hardy native. Happy hunting :)

[netherfeildren]

Vic! I must ask - do you have any erotic romance and/or erotica book recommendations?

LITEROTICA!!!!!!!! my favorite! I am finally finally getting to this, apologies for the delay. I'm not doing blurbs or anything and just going to list them, but I'll include a ⭐️ if they're a favorite. This is a mix of erotica and romance, and don't forget to check trigger warnings carefully for all books!

I'll also mark C for contemporary, HR for historical romance and F for fantasy just for ease of perusing.

In no particular order:

The Crossfire Series, Sylvia Day, C, ⭐️

Scounders of St. James series, Lorraine Heath, HR

Travises series, Lisa Kleypas, C

Little Birds, Anaïs Nin, C, ⭐️

Rules for the Reckless series, Meredith Duran, HR

The Duke of Shadows, Meredith Duran, HR

Bellamy Creek series, Melanie Harlow, C

Things We Never Got Over, Lucy Score, C, ⭐️

A Spy in the House of Love, Anaïs Nin, C, ⭐️

Cloverleigh Farms series, Melanie Harlow, C

The Pale Court duology, Liv Zander, F

Master of Salt & Bones, Keri Lake, CF

Of Flesh & Bone series, Harper L. Woods, F

Promises and Pomegranates, Sav R. Miller, C

The Made series, Danielle Lori, C, ⭐️

At Your Pleasure, Meredith Duran, HR

The Dressmakers series, Loretta Chase, HR

Scandal & Scoundrel series, Sarah Maclean, HR

Victorian Rebels series, Kerrigan Byrne, HR

Wicked Becomes You, Meredith Duran

The Ravenels series, Lisa Kleypas, HR, ⭐️

The Hathaways series, Lisa Kleypas, HR, ⭐️

After We Fall series, Melanie Harlow, C

Anti-Heroes in Love duology, Giana Darling, C

Dark Deam Duet duology, Giana Darling, C

Lord of Scoundrels, Loretta Chase, HR, ⭐️

Love By Numbers, Sarah Maclean, HR,

Girl Meets Duke series,Tessa Dare, HR

Castles Ever After series, Tessa Dare, HR

It Happened One Summer, Tessa Bailey, C, ⭐️

A Wicked Kind of Husband, Mia Vincy, HR, ⭐️

Playing with Monsters series, Amelia Hutchins, CF, ⭐️

Legacy of the Nine Realms series, Amelia Hutchins, CF

Aspect and Anchor series, Ruby Dixon

Wallflowers series, Lisa Kleypas, HR, ⭐️

The Gilded Age Heiresses series, Harper St. George

Dark Arts series, Bec McMaster, F, ⭐️

Markham Hall series, Sierra Simone, HR, ⭐️

Priest, Sierra Simone, C

The Villain, L.J. Shen

Delta of Venus, Anaïs Nin, C, ⭐️

[whencyclopedia]

Valley Forge

Valley Forge was the winter encampment of the Continental Army from 19 December 1777 until 18 June 1778, during one of the most difficult winters of the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783). Despite being undersupplied, underfed, and plagued with disease, the Continental Army underwent significant training and reorganization at Valley Forge, emerging as a much more disciplined and effective fighting force.

The Philadelphia Campaign

On 19 December 1777, the exhausted and starving soldiers of the Continental Army staggered into Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, a location about 18 miles (29 km) northwest of Philadelphia at the confluence of the Valley Creek and the Schuylkill River. It had been a long and difficult campaign. Four months earlier, they had raced down from New Jersey to defend the US capital of Philadelphia from the British army, only to be outflanked and defeated at the Battle of Brandywine (11 September). Following their victory, the British captured Philadelphia, which the Second Continental Congress had only just evacuated. The Continental Army regrouped and, on 4 October, retaliated with a surprise attack on a British garrison at the Battle of Germantown. Although the assault initially got off to a good start, a thick fog caused cohesion between American military units to break down, and the attack quickly lost momentum. When the British counterattacked, the undertrained Continental soldiers broke and fled. For the next two months, the two armies nervously maneuvered around one another. Although several bloody skirmishes were fought, neither side was eager to provoke another major battle.

Gradually, the temperatures dropped, and the bitter December winds signaled that it was time to suspend the campaign and enter winter quarters. The British army moved into Philadelphia, where the officers settled into the abandoned homes of the city's Patriot leaders and spent the winter attending lavish dinners, dancing at elegant balls, and courting Loyalist women. The Continental Army, meanwhile, marched to Valley Forge. The spot had been carefully chosen by the American commander-in-chief, General George Washington, for several reasons. First, its proximity to Philadelphia would allow the Americans to keep a close eye on the British army; attempts by the British to raid the surrounding Pennsylvanian countryside or to march for the town of York, the temporary seat of the Continental Congress, could quickly be challenged. Second, an encampment at Valley Forge would be easy to defend. The camp itself was to be situated on a large plateau surrounded by a series of hills and dense forests, creating a sort of natural fortress. Lastly, the location was beneficial because it was close to a supply of fresh water from the Valley Creek and Schuylkill River, and the abundance of nearby trees could easily be cut down for fuel or to build shelters.

Over 11,000 Continental soldiers filed into Valley Forge on that December day, accompanied by 500 women and children. They were certainly a disheveled lot. The many marches and countermarches they had needed to perform in the last several months had worn down their footwear; now, an estimated one out of every three Continental soldiers went entirely without shoes. Additionally, many soldiers lacked adequate coats to protect against the elements, particularly the incessant rain that had been falling all autumn. Many men owned only one shirt, while others did not even have a single shirt at all. It is unsurprising then that many of these exposed soldiers were already ill when they arrived at Valley Forge; out of the 11,000 men that arrived, only 8,200 were fit for duty.

The situation was made worse by a dangerous lack of food. At the beginning of the Valley Forge encampment, the army's commissary only had 25 barrels of flour, a small supply of salt pork, and no other stores of meat or fish. A lack of sufficient food and clothing was fairly typical of the army's supply department, which had often performed below expectations since its founding in 1775, but the chaos of the recent campaign had only made things worse. In its hurried evacuation from Philadelphia, Congress had failed to ensure the army's supply chain would remain unbroken, thereby contributing to the bareness of the army's food and clothing stores. Thus, it was clear from the start that the coming winter would be a challenging one.

Continue reading...

[peaches-n-sims]

Revamping this blog for the premades save file I'm slowly working on.

Willow Creek Makeover: Goth

• I aged Bella up to Adult because I wanted her to be closer in age to Mortimer and I think it makes her look even more sophisticated.

• Mortimer's got a little salt and pepper now to give him an extra ~distinguished~ air.

• Unlike her parents, posing for photos doesn't come naturally to Cassandra. She just awkwardly hunches over when she's in front of the camera.

• Alexander is rocking the prep school nerd look and likes reading math textbooks three grades above him.

BONUS:

I created Bella's brother Michael Bachelor for the save file. He's a fashion photographer and lives in a penthouse in San Myshuno. He dates someone new every month and falls in and out of love very quickly (Bella stopped trying to keep track of his partners a long time ago and despairs of him ever settling down).

[peloblancophoto]

Salt Creek Falls Black and White

[trivialbob]

I pedaled 18 miles today on one of my favorite loops through Minneapolis. All of it is on paved bike trails.

All the bicyclists were paying attention. Sometimes, early in the season, there are riders who don't pay attention. They ride two across when other bikes are approaching or they wander down the path like a drunken bumblebee. Not today. It's always a great day when riders are safe and courteous.

The several piles of horse poop on the Midtown Greenway were a bit annoying. I assume it was from police horses. No other horses are allowed on a city bike trail. I don't expect mounted police to carry plastic poop bags, like I have to bring to dog parks, but maybe have a small shovel to push the lumps over into the dirt?

Two minor complaints: First, a few bicyclists using aero bars. Those are entirely inappropriate on urban bike trails with posted speed limits of 10 MPH. Take your carbon fiber bike out to the countryside. Second, runners on the bike paths. Not even Evans Chebet or Usain Bolt should be running down the middle of a bike path.

That is Minnehaha Falls in the short video above. We had a lot of rain around here lately, so the creek and the falls are very full. Sea Salt, the restaurant located in the park by the falls, was very busy. The line to order looked like it was only twelve Swifties short of a sell-out concert.

[reality-detective]

TOP 100 US RIOTED CITIES!

I'm sure if anything goes down from all the people who have crossed over our borders, the Military will have everything under control swiftly. You may want to avoid these cities if anything goes down, and for your safety, please stay away from the military if you see them. This list was pulled and organized from a NY Times recent article listing the top 100 prior-rioted cities, for quick reference. They are 👇

(THOSE WITH * ARE TOP 25 CITIES JUST ISSUED BY THE WHITE HOUSE ON 2/9/24):

Alabama

Huntsville

Mobile

Alaska

Arizona

* Phoenix

Arkansas

Bentonville

Conway

Little Rock

California

Beverly Hills

Fontana

La Mesa

* Los Angeles

* Oakland

Sacramento

* San Diego

* San Francisco

San Jose

San Luis Obispo

Santa Ana

Santa Rosa

Vallejo

Walnut Creek

Colorado

Colorado Springs

* Denver

Connecticut

Delaware

Florida

Fort Lauderdale

Jacksonville

Lakeland

* Miami

Orlando

West Palm Beach

Georgia

* Atlanta

Athens

Hawaii

Idaho

Illinois

Aurora

Bloomington

Rockford

Indiana

Fort Wayne

Hammond

Indianapolis

Lafayette

Iowa

Des Moines

Iowa City

Waterloo

Kansas

Wichita

Kentucky

Louisville

Louisiana

* New Orleans

Maine

Maryland

Massachusetts

* Boston

Michigan

* Detroit

Grand Rapids

Kalamazoo

Lansing

Minnesota

Duluth

Minneapolis

* St. Paul

Mississippi

Missouri

Ferguson

Kansas City

St. Louis

Montana

Nebraska

Lincoln

Omaha

Nevada

Las Vegas

Reno

New Hampshire

New Jersey

New Mexico

Albuquerque

New York

Albany

* Buffalo

* New York City

North Carolina

Ashville

Charlotte

Raleigh

Wilmington

North Dakota

Fargo

Ohio

Cincinnati

Cleveland

Columbus

Dayton

Springfield

Toledo

Oklahoma

Oklahoma City

Tulsa

Oregon

Eugene

Portland

Salem

Pennsylvania

Erie

* Philadelphia

Pittsburgh

Rhode Island

Providence

South Carolina

Charleston

Columbia

South Dakota

Sioux Falls

Tennessee

Chattanooga

Murfreesboro

Nashville

Texas

* Arlington

Austin

* Dallas

* El Paso

Fort Worth

* Houston

Lewisville

* San Antonio

Utah

* Salt Lake City

Vermont

Virginia

Fredericksburg

Richmond

Virginia Beach

Washington

Bellevue

* Seattle

Spokane

West Virginia

Wisconsin

Green Bay

Madison

Milwaukee

Wyoming