#thirteen x river x o(?)

[expectiations]

But they did! She met at least 4 versions of the Master (including Missy) in The Diary of River Song series 5. That entire series, especially the one with Missy, is the reason why I became more cemented in my the Doctor x the Professor x the Master thing. Like thoschei's already toxic on their own right? So the next best thing to do would be to add River to the mix of course 🤩 Unfortunately, the amount of fics catering to that specific ship on ao3 is rather dismal. well I could always add to it

the Doctor's universal Song. the Master's soothing Melody.

Just realised River Song and the Master never met and I almost imploded

[leviathansshadycorner]

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 7

Summary: Interview

A/n: Sorry for any inconsistencies and spelling errors, enjoyyyyyy!

Pt.6Pt.5 Pt.4 Pt.3 Pt.2 Pt.1

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Chapter 7: Interview

The games were Tomorrow. Today was your last day of peace and possibly life. Most of the time today was supposed to be spent preparing for the interview, however, Dolly and Rasmey gave you two or three hours of bliss before having to prepare. 

You were positive Buckley was out in the rose garden with Dolly. It was only natural for him to want to be outside instead of cooped in like you. Ramsey had come in to check on you twice but eventually stopped when he assumed you were sleeping. In reality, you were crying. Crying the whole two hours mourning the fact that you’d never get to see the faces of your family again. 

You remembered Amaranto and how the two of you would’ve been having breakfast together at this time. Or how you would have packed your Pa a lunch to take to work. You thought about those Sunday afternoons spent sitting on the dry grass with a blanket, just the three of you talking about life and reminiscing about your mother, occasionally eating something special when they’d work overtime. 

You thought about the times you spent with Clarabell in the angry rivers, scared out of your mind that a peacekeeper would come and hurt you both, but having so much fun in the water that you forgot that they even existed in the first place. 

Your mind went to Buckley. It was crazy how you went from greeting each other in the morning at school to being with each other every day. He looked out of place in the Capitol, and so did you. It was odd seeing someone from home on the screen, but you guessed that’s how he felt about you too. The two of you had grown closer than you would have ever at home. That’s when you started realizing that you should’ve appreciated everything you had at home instead of slowly isolating yourself as you grew up. 

Wiping the snot from your nose you decided to get up and wash your face. The clock read 12, and that meant it was time for your mentors to get you interview-ready. The actual interview itself was to start at 6 pm. However, you still had to practice your speech and what you were going to say to several different questions. The whole point was to make you appealing to not only the sponsors but the Capitol as a whole. After all, the sooner the tributes get used to the Capitol’s mannerisms, the better the victor will adapt. 

“Alright, let's try this again.” It had been thirteen minutes and Pradain was still struggling to get you to sit up straight. 

“Come on, we started an hour ago, I’m sure they can learn how to sit up straight later. What’s important is that we get them to speak clearly and with charm.” Dolly protested as Pradain pressed a hand to your back to get you upright. 

Pradain’s outfit consisted of satin gloves, and a matching dress that towered to his ankles, his feet adorned with five-inch  platforms. It was beyond you how he had learned to walk in those. 

“Don’t be ridiculous Dolly, this is a must when it comes to Capitol mannerisms. Now up!” Groaning you forcefully sat up, your shoulders still drooping.

“Ah! See- I thought you were shaped weird, but you’re just not lifting your shoulders.” He clasped his hands onto them, bringing them up and fixing your head’s posture. “See? That wasn’t too bad. Now let’s do it again.” He instructed, 

You looked over at Buckley- who had a scarf tied around him and the chair, propping him up straight. “I think I got it.” The poor boy pleaded to be untied. 

“You stay. And you,” He pointed at you, “Up!” 

Ramsey rolled his eyes. “Alright well, I’m just gonna go ahead and start reading these questions. Ramsey was already dressed in his suit claiming that he didn’t want to put it on later, so he decided to put it on now. 

He shuffled through some cards with common interview questions. “Alright, Buck-o this one’s for you. How would you describe home?” 

Buckley perked up, “Easy- Home is-” 

“AH! This isn’t a test, it's an interview. Tell them why you like home, what makes it special. Start with, ‘Well, home to me is-’” Pradain scolded Buckley. 

“Right, ok.” He nodded and looked at Ramsey to reread the card. 

“How would you describe home?” You looked over at Dolly, your face bored and uninterested. She noticed it and ushered you to pay attention to Buckley, sitting up straight which reminded you to sit up as well. Your back was on fire, you always thought you had an okay posture, but only now knew that it was too forward leaning. 

“Home to me is..” He stopped to think, his nose twitching as he was lost in thought, “Home to me is the yellow sunset, the dirt on my boots after a long day of work, the voices of my siblings arguing over a small toy, the pretty girls fluttering their eyelashes at me, the way their hair falls on their shoulders, and how round their-” 

“Okay, no stop- you’re getting distracted.” You laughed at Buckley’s response, starting nicely but going off-topic. 

“Alright then, at least you’ll make them laugh. You’ve got a good voice too Buckley, nice start.” Dolly tried making the best of things. 

“Same Question for you (Y/n). How would you describe home?” Ramsey put the cards down, his tired eyes looking at you as he waited for your response. 

“Any time now.” Spoke up Pradain. 

“Home to me is…Home to me is.” There was about a three-second pause, “My Brother. My Pa. Our little house by the wheat fields, and the river that runs through 10.” It wasn’t much, but it’s all that could come to mind. 

“That’s a start.” Dolly smiled. 

“We need you to say more, and don’t be afraid to get emotional, the Capitol loves that. They eat it up.” Ramsey crossed his legs. “We’re gonna have a long day.” He sighed. 

4 pm came quicker than anticipated. In the period you’d been practicing you were able to learn to project your voice, and Buckley learned how to be quieter. The two of you learned some fancy words, though you doubted you’d use them in a genuine sentence. 

Sashay and the rest of the stylists waited for you down at the stylist quarters where you were ready to get replucked like a chicken. It didn’t hurt as much as the first time, but the stinging feeling was still there. After you got bathed, they began working on your hair. Its (H/c) color being amplified and made brighter as they put some chemicals on it. It smelled foul, far worse than the cow poop at home. 

Your nails were painted black and white, You mentally groaned knowing where this was going. When your hair was finally dried they worked to braid it, putting some turquoise accessories on you before handing you to Sashay. 

She smiled brightly at you and kissed your cheek, “My my don’t you look beautiful.” She complimented taking your hand and leading you to the hanger where a long sleek cow print dress hung. It looked to have fur on it, and you assumed it’d come from home. 

“You’re going to look amazing.” She said excitedly as she instructed you to take your robe off. Sashay herself was dressed in all black, contrasting with what Dolly was wearing- white. You assumed the whole theme surrounding 10 would be cow print, and you were right. She helped you put the dress on, making some adjustments while it was on you so it would hug your figure better. It draped down longer on one end, the other end having a slit and exposing much of your leg. Below you wore some high-heeled boots that you thought looked ridiculous, but Sashay seemed enamored by them. She adjusted a belt on your hips- also containing hints of turquoise, and finally a necklace on you, tying the look together. 

“Oh!” She sighed clasping her hands together, “(Y/n), when you go home I guarantee you every man will want your hand in marriage.” She cooed as she circled you. “Perfect, now all we need is makeup.” The lady sat you down for another hour and a half of makeup application. You liked Sashay, she was more level-headed than Pradain and had such eloquence to her, however, the mix of having to speak in front of millions, and the games being tomorrow was not settling in right. Ramsey had to ask Pradain for a pill that would calm down your stomach. 

Sashay was escorting you out to the backstage area where Dolly and Ramsey were waiting. Ramsey was wearing black, Pradain opting to wear white, both of them sticking to the theme Pradain and Sashay had planned. You looked around for Buckley but he was nowhere in sight. 

“Wow.” Ramsey let out a long whistle, “You do not look like yourself at all.” He said admiring Sashay’s work. 

“(Y/n), you look stunning.” Dolly’s mouth was agape as she went to hold your arm and observe you. Your hair had been taken out of the braids, leaving behind curls in its place. 

“I can’t walk in these.” You whispered to her frantically. You didn’t want to fall on stage, but that seemed like something that would happen in your near future. 

She laughed, her smokey eyes closing making it look like she had hollowed eyes, “It’ll be fine, just try not to think about it.” She assured you. 

The stage was light as people began to flood the venue. There were stagehands all over the place, getting things set and ready. More tributes flowed in, you shrank back when you realized how extra Sashay had been with your interview gown since the others looked to be more playful and simple. People kept staring at you as they walked in, and that was a bad thing in your book. Eventually, Buckley came in. His stylist next to him as they chatted about god knows what. When he spotted you he froze slightly, keeping his gaze on you as they made their way to the group.

His hair was slicked back, his face looking more square but in a good way. He had some makeup on, but it was only to even out his tone, his freckles had been redrawn over his real ones since the base of his makeup had covered them. He wore a black suit, with hints of cow print on the inner side and flaps that poked out towards the neck of the suit. His boots matched yours, and he had a belt as big as one of the screens on. The two of you looked like you ran some sort of Texan Casino. 

“(Y/n), You look beautiful.” He complimented, his hands taking yours as he made you spin. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”  He said light-heartedly. 

Buckley’s attention made you flustered and you felt the room get warmer, “I could say the same,” You smiled, “Have you seen your hair?” You asked carefully, poking his gel-held hair. 

“Alright well, we’ll be out in the front row. Look for us alright?” Sashay excused herself and Pradain, leaving the two of you with Dolly and Rasmey. 

“They’re gonna line you up again, two lines- boys and girls.” Ramsey explained, “There’s a screen back here so y’all can watch but don’t miss your cue alright?” He ordered. The two of you nodded. 

“(Y/n), remember what we went over alright?” Dolly caught your gaze. 

Previously you’d spent time with Dolly going over some things you could do to emphasize your image as the Capitol’s cowgirl. Dolly had instructed you to speak with more southern twang than usual, keep a smile and hospitable personality, and speak on the livestock and ‘ranch life’ back at home. All things that would make a District 10 resident roll their eyes, but a Capitol citizen clap and shout. Unfortunately for you, you knew that this whole act would blow up in your face. You wouldn’t get taken seriously by the tributes, and if the small chance of you winning existed, you’d have to keep up the stereotype. 

Your mentors left you to take their seats. There was about an hour until show time, and some makeup artists stuck back to touch up some of the tributes. You and Buckley paced around the backstage, practicing lines with each other, and working on pronunciation. You hadn’t even noticed that the careers had flowed in. Glimmer was wearing a pink poofy dress, far too short for her. The only thing that distracted from her body was her giant blonde hair that cascaded perfectly, but even then she wore body glitter that made her shine. Clove on the other hand wore an orange dress and a hairdo that puffed the top part of her hair up. The two looked at you and laughed, making it obvious that they were laughing at your gown. You couldn’t blame them though. You would’ve laughed at yourself too. Buckley defensively went to stand in front of you to block their view, but it didn’t do much since they’d have to walk past you anyway. 

Behind them came Marvel and Cato. Both their faces were serious as always as they discussed something about weapon quality. You paid no mind to them, knowing that if you did they’d find a way to cause a scene. You weren’t sure why you were their favorite tribute to a bug, but you blamed it all on your stunt on your first day here. As they walked closer Marvel patted Cato on his chest, and the taller male turned to look at where you were standing. 

“Damn, never knew the girls from District 10 could look like that,” Cato said as they walked past the two of you, pretending to be nonchalant although you knew he had purposely said it. 

“Nice dress 10,” Marvel said, eyeing you as he trailed behind Cato. The two of them shook their heads and laughed as they approached the front of the line. 

“If I were a career I think I’d go after those two first.” You told Buckley who gave you an amused smile. 

“If you were a career you’d be with them.” He corrected. It wasn’t far from the truth. In almost every game, the careers were quick to form alliances with each other, alienating the weak from the strong. 

“You ready for the spotlight?” Talking was something you’ve come to realize that you did when you were nervous. Your hand practically shook, and you wore a nervous smile on your face. It was involuntarily there, however as much as you tried you couldn’t get rid of it. 

“No.” His simple reply. “Not too thrilled about it.” He exhaled. He had been holding a straight posture, his shoulders up, turtling his neck. 

“They’ll love you.” You reassured, but it only made him smile, his nerves still present.

 “Just don’t want to be laughed at.” He mentioned. 

The lights were beginning to flicker, meaning that it would soon be time for the show to start. 

You thought about what he had said. “Trust me. No one’s going to laugh at you.” Dolly and you had trained for your interview. Everything you were instructed to say made you look like a country bumpkin. If anything Buckley would be District 10’s saving grace- and you its fool. 

“Wow. You look beautiful.” Came the voice of District 12’s Katniss. It sounded rehearsed, void of any emotion. The same went for the smile she threw at you. 

You returned it and bowed your head. “Please, you’re the one who deserves such praise.” You guessed she was only saying that because her mentors wanted her to make allies in the arena since her high score presented a problem. 

That was the entirety of the exchange. The stage managers lined everyone up in order of appearance, hushing them as the presentation started. Once again you found the insides of your palms to be sweaty. You tried everything to ease your beating heart, deep breaths, pinching yourself, thinking of other things. However, none of them got rid of the sensation in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. 

Up on the screen Caesar Flickerman’s silhouette appeared, his signature ponytail obnoxiously hanging from his head as he leaned back on the chair. His theme song played, the bass so loud you could feel the floor rumbling. Cheers from the crowd erupted. Buckley stood attentive, watching the screen with his hands on his belt, his stance wide to keep himself in balance. From where you stood you could see Marvel and Cato hyping each other up, Glimmer joining in to fix Cato’s neat suit. 

“Let’s bring her out!” It had been a good couple of minutes, though it seemed like seconds as Caesar called out for Glimmer. She was the first one to go. Leaving about 19 people ahead of you. You watched as her clear, shimmery dress bounced as she stepped onto the stage with a huge smile, waving to the crowd. Her hair effortlessly dropped into place, making her look all the more attractive. The crowds were loud. Your eardrums could only handle so much before you reached out to cover them. 

Eventually, it was Marvel’s turn. He seemed so confident in everything he said, you learned just how charismatic he could be. Clove went next, her interview only made you more cautious of her. Soon after it was Cato’s turn. Unlike Marvel, he gave off boisterous energy. Almost as if he was too good to be there. However, the crowd was eating it up. He ended his interview with a hollar and returned backstage. It was almost the two-hour mark, some interviews taking longer since he wanted to give the tributes who didn’t stand out some limelight. Eventually, it was your turn. 

The stage manager came back to look for you, their hand on your shoulder as they walked you up the stairs. You glanced back to catch the reassuring gaze of Buckley, but instead found Marvel’s. He gave you a wink as a token of good luck, and off you were. 

“Now I’m sure we all remember our next tribute from the tribute parade. I mean how could we forget after the thrilling act she performed!” Flickerman emphasized his words, stretching them at the appropriate time. 

A couple of ‘woos’ and whistles came from the crowd as the anticipation built up. “From district 10- (Y/n) Cuernos!” He announced your cue to cross the stage. The lights were extremely bright, you had to look down as you stepped onto the stage. The crowd cheered at your out-of-place attire, it being one of the most unique (and ridiculous) outfits of the night. Shyly you put on your best smile before catching a glimpse of Dolly in the crowd, making gestures for you to smile bigger. 

You cringed when you thought of your family back at home watching this. Saying a silent apology, it was as if a switch turned on in your brain. Suddenly, your teeth shone as you stretched your lips into a smile, fluttering the huge eyelashes your makeup team glued onto you. With a hand on your hip, the other one waving, you swayed like you saw glimmer doing, your dress’ fabric swishing in the gap your legs left as you strode. 

“(Y/n)! My, my, how you clean up!” Flickerman commented, standing to greet you. 

“Thank you, Caesar.” Your eye nearly twitched at the forced southern twang in your voice. It was a whole lot more than Buckley, who had a natural southern accent, you had close to nothing of an accent. Even when it did slip, it sounded nothing like this. “My stylist purtied me up didn’t they?” 

He looked to the crowd, “Indeed they did.” He motioned for you to sit. 

It helped that the stage lights practically blinded you. You could see that people were sitting in the stands, but you weren’t able to make out distinct features- save for the front row where the mentors sat. 

Remembering what Dolly had told you, you sat up straight, teeth-baring into a cheesy smile. 

“Did that print you’re wearing come from a cow you raised?” The presenter’s teeth glinted in the light as the crowd erupted in laughter, “Oh! ‘course not- just inspired by them.” You giggled back, hating yourself even more. Your heart was beating hoping the president would accept your performance. 

Flickerman adjusted himself in his seat, “Now, I was going to leave this question for last- but I just know the audience has been anticipating the answer, am I right?” He turned to the audience who were cheering blindly. 

Like a doll in a box you smiled stationary, waiting for him to ask the question, but of course, he needed to prolong it for suspense. “What was going through your mind when you rode that steed?” There were some woo’s from the crowd, and you watched yourself on the screen as they replayed the moment. That clip gave you an ego boost each time you saw it. Giggling a bit too nervously you shook your head. “Nothing.” That earned a laugh from the audience. “I just remember wanting to ride it- couldn’t help myself I guess.” You gave a small shrug. 

“What a wildflower this one is.” Caesar made some amused faces. 

The interview lasted for another couple of questions, he seemed to have a lot for you. He asked you about home life, your loved ones, Buckley, and about skills. You didn’t have as many questions as the careers, but it was more than District 8’s tributes who had the least. 

“And do you have a strategy to win the games?” His tone was more serious now. 

Here it was. Your closing line. The one that took you and Dolly two seconds to come up with, but would echo in the minds of the audience. 

“I’m from District 10. I’m a born and bred cowgirl. I have to win. ” 

Cato couldn't help but smirk at your response, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall, he watched with attentive eyes as your interview continued.

His open mouth smile followed by “woah woah woah!” made the stadium rumble. You smiled and waved out to the crowd, Dolly giving you a thumbs up. 

“That’s an ambitious statement! I love it!” He did a little kick, “Well, you go out there and rope them in (Y/n) Cuernos! District 10’s very own cowgirl!” 

If only you could see Cato’s pissed-off face next to Marvel’s smug one. 

As you walked backstage again you were greeted with a bone-crushing hug from your fellow tribute. ���Hey, that was good! Though you were a little strong on the accent.” Buckley patted your back. 

“Yeah, I had no idea you had one.” Glimmer teased as she and the other careers leaned against the wall. “Stop trying to win them over, I’m already the Capitol’s sweetheart.” The tall girl crossed her arms, the jewels in her dress reflecting. 

Marvel came around you, making space between you and Buckley who knew better than to cause a scene. “Did they make you skin that cow yourself?” His fingers scraped the waist of your dress, he let out an “O” when he realized it was just fabric. 

Cato gave him a look, causing him to back off. “You have to win huh? How do you think you’re going to do that?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You refused to look at him. 

“Oh, I’m not worried. You see if anyone should be worried about you.” He sneered, his gaze getting darker. “Save yourself the disappointment, enjoy your time in the Capitol, and accept your fate. I’m winning this one.” 

“As if.” Clove rolled her eyes. 

Buckley and you both stared down Cato. 

He snickered, “And don’t go around thinking your friend here is going to help you. If you’ve been doing your research you know that there’s no such thing as friends in the arena.” 

That irked Buckley, “So who’s to say your little posse won’t turn on you and gang up on you in the arena?” 

“Pft, then let’s hope they can outrun me.” His response made the careers shift uncomfortably.

“We knew what we were doing when we signed up.” Marvel spoke up,” It’s our job to ween off the weak ones, so the strongest can prevail.” He said looking at you. 

“So is that what Cato’s going to do to you?” You didn’t mean for it to be a comeback. It just came out that way. The careers looked pissed now, but a stage manager came just in time to lead them back to their mentors. 

“Watch it 10.” Cato’s wild grin didn’t deter you, you continued to stare him down.  

Just like that, your time at the Capitol was coming to an end.

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Tags: @randomgurl2326

[eyrina-avatar]

Kinktober Masterlist

Welcome to my kinktober masterlist

☆ﾟ. thank you @pandoraslxna for creating this wonderful event for all of us to join and for keeping the fandom alive💙

☆ﾟ. I won't be able to do all of the prompts but I am working on as many as I can. all of my works for kinktober are scheduled posts so please allow some time for me to update this masterlist. If I forget to add any works to here that I already posted, feel free to let me know. If I fall behind but still want to complete a prompt, I'll post it anyways, even if it's after october hehehe

☆ﾟ. posts are scheduled for 8 am est

☆ﾟ. all of my works for kinktober are neteyam x fem!reader

☆ﾟ. full prompt list: here

☆ﾟ. my main masterlist: here

key: 🦋- completed, 🔵- published

one. handjob 🔵 (combined with thirteen)

two. eating out 🔵

three. thigh riding

four. spanking 🔵(combined with twelve)

five. daddy kink

six. blindfolded

seven. blow job 🔵

eight. voyeurism

nine. accidental stimulation

ten. knife kink

eleven. restraints 🔵 (combined with twenty)

twelve. fingering 🔵(same as four)

thirteen. in public 🔵 (same as one)

fourteen. sixty-nine

fifteen. size difference

sixteen. toys

seventeen. begging

eighteen. mirror sex

nineteen. threesome

twenty. edging🔵 (same as eleven)

twenty-one. phone throat/ com sex

twenty-two. shower /tub/ river/ ocean

twenty-three. biting

twenty-four. rough

twenty-five. caught masturbating

twenty-six. overstimulation

twenty-seven. anal 🦋

twenty-eight. praise / degradation

twenty-nine. dirty talk

thirty. mutual masturbation

thirty-one. A/B/O

not me posting this as if I were to have a full collection when I only have a few so far💀

I don't have a taglist yet but you can always lmk if you want to be tagged

as always, do not steal my writing and please don't post it on ao3 or wattpad

© eyrina-avatar

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 4 - Post #3: Life During Wartime

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

GIF by myriadimagines

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 3.2K (third post in Volume 4)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

_______________________________

III. “Fucking farrick,” you grumble, trying to jam the locker door back onto its hinges. When it finally eases open, you grab your rucksack and head for the exit without changing out of your coveralls. 

You never remove so much as a shoe once you're inside the refinery. Showers were available, but no one used them. Cameras surveilled practically every inch of this facility. And just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t in here, too.  

Stepping out from under the dim artificial light, it takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the riot of color. It’s early morning, barely past midnight, but the sky is awash in brilliant yellows and oranges, alight with swirling pink clouds. 

Lakaran’s nearest sun only dipped below the mountains this time of year, never truly setting. When it sank behind the peaks at this hour, the ridgeline became a deep indigo against the horizon, its glaciers reflecting back the sky’s warm glow.  

Ehki is what the Lakarani called their star. Grandmother, it meant. Her daughter, Amular, was the world, and Ehki traveled around her in an unending circle to carefully watch over her children. So tonight, when the sun finally fell into darkness, and there would be several hours of real night for the first time in months, the Lakarani would throw a gigantic party while Grandma Ehki wasn’t looking. 

You know you should hurry up and leave before someone accuses you of loitering, but instead, you pause to take in the view. A small, inconsequential act of rebellion. The scenery is breathtaking up here. The air is thin and crisp. It’s the best part of your day to stand on this spot and take in the majestic landscape right before making that sharp turn toward the escalator. 

The view from the west side of the slope is decidedly less sublime. 

The scale of the encampments surrounding the processing plant is almost impossible to take in at first glance. The structures are a jumble of materials built on top of each other in layers that look more like debris washed up by the river than a deliberate settlement.

The skyline is dominated by the refinery’s cooling towers belching out steam that smelled acrid and made the air thick with humidity. The water used for cooling went right back into the river, along with the encampment’s sewage. Which is why you absolutely refused to eat anything fished or gathered downstream.

You step off the escalator and see Humia waiting for you outside the checkpoint. The security guard reaches for your bag, not bothering to look up or make conversation while she searches its contents. She doesn’t care to ask for your name either—just waits for the familiar beep of the transponder at your wrist to confirm your exit as you walk through the gate.

“How’d it go today?”

“Good,” you answer brightly, patting the bound folio strapped to your stomach. “I found this fire safety and evacuation handbook with a very detailed floor plan of level nine. Raceways, server rooms, access panels…I’ll have to ask my partner about the utility lines, but we might be able to bore into the operations center from an adjoining room.”  

“That is good,” she nods enthusiastically. "This is your partner, Nito? He’s the tech guy?”

“Yeah,” a reluctant smile tugs at your lips. Humia probably wasn’t envisioning a furry thirteen-year-old when she used the phrase tech guy, but that would be a fun little detail for her to discover later. 

Or sooner rather than later? You still haven’t heard anything from the Razor Crest about when to expect their arrival on Lakaran. Which is absolutely fine. Definitely not a big deal. Nope. Not at all something that you’ve been overthinking for the past eighteen days straight. 

Nope. It’s not at all distracting to obsess about how, after months of tortuous yearning, you finally had sex with the Mandalorian and have not spoken to him since. 

Gods, why is it suddenly so hard to breathe just thinking about him?

The fact that you spend most of your nights alone, willing yourself to recall the memory of his hands on your body while the tears can fall without shame…has been, you know, not great for your mental health. 

So that’s why, a few nights a week, you take a break from drowning in insecurity and play at the Sabacc tables. 

Guess that’s out of the question now. You’ll need to avoid Johar Kessen like the plague.   

“Nito’s been dredging through the Imperial archive for more information on the refinery. The stuff he’s found is incredible. All of the records from when they built this place.” 

“Good,” she smiles appreciatively. 

As you descend toward the encampment, the rocky mountain path splits into three parts. Two fanned out onto the raised perimeter wall made of poured concrete and scrapwood that traced a broad circle around the sprawling camp. It had been constructed by the Tagge Corporation to help with mudslides, but what it really helped with was surveilling the Lakarani. 

You and Humia take the main path through the center of camp. 

The hut you shared was higher up on the slope, which was a blessing when it rained but a pain in the ass when you had to walk uphill after eating your weight’s worth of bean cakes for dinner or hauling laundry back home from the wash house. 

“Another option is turning one of the technicians, but I’m not having a ton of luck in that department. I can usually wrap scientists around my finger, but engineers are so tricky. It takes them an ungodly amount of time to realize you’re trying to fuck them.”

“For what it’s worth, I would turn for you in a heartbeat,” you say, holding your face between your hands, eyes wide with adoration. “Those dark lashes are criminally lush.”

Humia swats away the compliment. “I could steal a key card, but I have no idea how long it would take for someone to discover it’s gone. That might hold us to a very narrow time frame depending on when it’s reported missing.”

You follow her up the winding footpath that leads homeward. The camp is much easier to navigate this time of day, when everyone is still asleep. “I like the idea of entering from an adjoining room. That way, there’s no exposure in the hallway. Even if we’re in uniform, five people on the cleaning crew, when there are usually only two, will be immediately suspicious.”

The Mandalorian’s solution would undoubtedly be to come in through the front door, rifles blazing, but that’s not an option in this scenario. You have to secure the operations center before anyone from the Tagge Corporation realizes the refinery is under attack. The risk that they would activate the facilities’ containment protocol is too great. It would condemn not only everyone on site but anyone within five leagues of the processing plant.

“We could stuff Serenio and Davik into the cleaning cart?” Humia chuckles at the implausibility of this suggestion.

“I doubt we could even push the cart with Davik stuffed inside. He’s built like a stack of boulders.”

“I told him to quit training in the fighting pits. He’s going to attract too much attention.” 

“Why does every population center in this galaxy require some kind of fighting pit? It’s a weird kind of calculus. One communal latrine per 20 persons. One fighting pit per 100 persons.”

She rolls her eyes, “Do you know a more straightforward way to earn money than two people beating the shit out of each other? Though, I don’t think Davik does it for the money. He’s just like a puppy that chews all your socks if he doesn’t get enough exercise.” 

“He’s so young,” you sigh, feeling suddenly guilty. “Him and Serenio, both.”

“Most soldiers are,” Humia scoffs. “Revolutions don’t offer a very robust life expectancy.”

“That’s true. I didn’t expect to make it out alive when I joined the Rebellion. And I appreciate the protection. But I can’t help seeing them as children.”

She tosses her head with a derisive laugh, “I didn’t expect you to be so tenderhearted.”

No doubt she thought it made you weak. But you’re wise enough to know empathy took far more bravery than cynicism. “Just because I can recognize the cruelty of this life doesn’t mean I’ve made peace with it.”  

“That’s rather noble coming from someone working with a Mandalorian.” 

Your neck turns sharply to catch the look on her face, but she’s already ducking around the pilings and cantilevered beams bracing your neighbors' houses against the mountainside.  

“You don’t like Mandalorians?” It seems like an odd prejudice. 

“No,” she sneers. “They say they are bound by codes and honor, yet they show nothing but selfish indifference toward the plight of others.” She stops abruptly on her heels to glare at you, brushing strands of auburn hair from her eyes. “And I like your Mandalorian least of all.”

He’s not my Mandalorian, your heart sighs.

The hateful disdain in her words is like a slap to the face. Humia rarely revealed the depth of her emotions. What could inspire this level of rancor from an otherwise inscrutable woman? And why bring this up now?

You cough, clearing your throat to mask the apprehension in your voice. “I didn’t realize you already knew him?”

“I don’t need to know him. I know what he’s done.” But it’s a reflexive response, not a real answer. So you wait. “They’re all mercenaries,” she says, compelled to explain herself. “Condemning their souls for money. They profit from the misery of others for the sake of themselves.” 

You can tell she desperately wants you to ask, What has he done?

It’s not the first time Humia had hinted at a bitter history between the Mandalorian and her leader, Ubaa Dir. But you don’t take the bait. If you’re missing some part of the story, you want to hear it from his lips, not hers.

Instead, you remind her with a wry grin, “Well, now you’re working with him too.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she concedes. “Wars make for strange bedfellows.” 

An image of them together flashes behind your eyes, and the irrational taste of jealousy fills your mouth. Don’t be absurd! Hadn’t Humia just admitted she'd never met Mando? 

Lucky for you, she lets the moment pass without escalation. Her tone shifts, and she places a companionable hand on your shoulder.

“I’ve heard Kessen fights in the pits. We could go to watch him sometime? Belen’s right, you know, he’s got a crush on you.”

“I have no idea why,” you begin, but Humia raises her hand to cut you off.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Kasya. Hiding under workwear and bushy eyebrows won't change that.”

“Now, why would you bring my eyebrows into it?” You tease, as though it might erase her vitriol from moments ago. That is until you catch sight of the security guard standing on your front porch. “Is it okay that he’s waiting here for you?”

It’s the same guy she brought home last week. When he spots you walking down the path, his face breaks into a wide grin. He waves, looking giddy, as though he might jump off the steps to run for her.  

“This one, I can turn,” she mutters, slowing her pace. “I’m glad he told us how to block the transponders…but he’s fallen harder than he should. If he starts getting heartsick, it could be a problem.”

“Poor kid. You bat those lashes, and what hope do any of us have?” 

“See,” she looks at you askance, nudging you in the stomach with her elbow. “That shit is why Kessen likes you. You’re so sweet with your friends and no one else. He wants some of that honey for himself.”

You snatch at the opportunity to throw her off the subject. “Why Humia Fenrik, are we friends?”

“Why, yes, Kas,” her voice is laden with gooey sarcasm. “You’re my best friend. That’s why I got you this job, remember?” She adamantly refuses to change the subject. “Some men like a challenge. And Johar Kessen is very bored stuck out here with the likes of us, guarding all these soulless corpos.”

“So by challenge, you mean, like how I’ve given him absolutely no indication whatsoever that I’m interested?”

“Are you worried he might recognize you from the Rebellion?”

“What?! No, I’m sure he was much higher up the food chain.” Rumor was that Kessen had led special operations forces during the war. “Kinda sad that he went from Rebel hero to working for the Tagge family.”

“There’s your angle,” Humia says, snapping her fingers. “It would be good to have him on our side once the fighting starts. And Kessen might be elite for a bodyguard, but I bet they treat him like a piece of furniture, same as the rest of us. He must hear things.”

You cock your head at her. “Then maybe you should approach him?”

She’s probably already considered it, but come on! She didn’t have to rake her eyes over you like a bawd house madam ready to offer up her best girl. 

“I’m not the one he wants.”

“Listen, I’m flattered you think so highly of my charm, but I do not have the skill set.” You’re at least tactful enough not to say, I’m not like you out loud. This is Humia’s job. She’s very good at it. And it’s not your place to approve or disapprove of the way she went about it. “I’d be too nervous.”

You remember each time you had to quietly lock yourself in the privy to heave up the contents of your stomach whenever the Mandalorian asked you a pointed question, thinking, He knows! He knows I’m lying! 

Which…yeah, it turns out he did. “I think I’d have a panic attack and blackout.”

“Your cover story is a psycho ex-lover. Of course, you’re nervous.” At that, Humia gives you an appraising look. “You’re living under a stolen identity and seem to be doing just fine.”

“Exactly! Because I don’t talk to anyone.” A sudden knot lodges in your throat. “Have you asked Serenio to approach anyone?”

One of the refinery executives had an unsettling interest in her. You clean the facilities overnight, so there's rarely any staff on-site, but whenever he worked late, he made a point of saying hello to her. A good opportunity to practice his Twi’lek sign language, he claimed.

You know it’s a mistake to ask about it as soon as the question leaves your mouth. She immediately becomes defensive. “Serenio is loyal unto death. She would do whatever I commanded.”

Humia didn’t have to add, unlike you. It just hung in the air unspoken. 

“But Serenio is trained for combat, not espionage. And she’s green as a pea shoot.” 

“Ah, so I’m overripe?” You arch a bushy eyebrow at her. "Just falling off the vine. Thanks for that!"

“I’m just saying Johar Kessen is very attractive and likable. You wouldn’t have to pretend. It’s not much of a heavy lift, surely?”

“Okay, the sleeping with him part I could probably manage. But as soon as I ask Kessen a remotely leading question, he will immediately know what I’m up to!”

“There’s no need to tie yourself into knots,” she snaps. "Just be honest. You think it’s beneath you.”

Humia’s back is rigid, and her jaw is clenched tight. She looks so proud yet so vulnerable that it breaks your heart.

Is this why she’s so angry? She'd been seething all day, spoiling for a fight. It makes you question whether her anger about the Mandalorian is sincere or just an attempt to provoke you.

“Humia, this entire operation is built on your intelligence work. You think I look down on you because I’m horrified or judgemental about what you do. But it’s the opposite. I recognize what a dangerous game you’re playing and know I don’t have the courage for it.”

You wish you could give her a hug, but this was not the time or place to dwell on what was at stake. Or the weight of what she carried on her shoulders.

“Fine,” Humia huffs, shaking off the tension. “Just think about it.”

Oh, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it. Sleeping with Johar Kessen is not going to happen for a number of reasons. 

Chief among them is he would discover that—contrary to your fake documents—you are not human. Which would inevitably lead to the discovery that you are not, in fact, Kasya Hawat. That secret would give him leverage, and you simply refuse to hand someone that kind of power over you.  

But you can’t tell Humia this. Because then she would know that you aren’t human, and that is something you don’t plan to share with anyone here on Lakaran. At least not yet. It’ll be another fun little detail for her to discover later.

Kriffing hell! Now you’re doubly glad she doesn’t know. Given the course of this conversation, you have no doubt she’d insist that you use your influence to dig through Kessen’s thoughts and memories for something useful. That’s why Hapan courtesans were so highly prized—one of the few professions the Consortium allowed to leave the Hapes Cluster—and why they made the best spies. 

Amongst those other reasons…you have no idea how Mando would react. Though, if you had to guess? You’d guess poorly. 

While there’s the whole sworn warrior of Mandalore—I can’t call you mine—complication, you know how he feels about you. A man who struggles with trust would not find it easy to share. His sense of duty and commitment to the job might oblige him to accept it as a necessary tactic, but you aren’t willing to risk it driving a wedge between you. Things are already too delicate.

Aaand now you’re thinking about Mando again. 

Fuck, you miss him so much. You awoke every morning wanting him. You wanted to hear the sound of his laughter, to touch every inch of his skin with your fingers and feel his heartbeat under your lips to know he was really all right. You wanted to feel his body over you, under you, inside you… 

Ugh, you’ve already thought about him about a dozen times today. What’s once more.  

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” You lie, hoping she’ll let this go for now. “Will I see you later?” You ask, looking meaningfully at the security guard waiting impatiently on your porch.

“No. Unless you’re going to the bonfire tonight?” Her gaze became conspiratorial. “Kessen will probably be there. All those corpos love Lakarani culture if it means slumming it up with us. He'll have to keep them out of trouble. Your pocket is chirping, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, distractedly patting down the front of your coveralls. “Um, sure. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“If not, we should meet for morning prayers at the shrine tomorrow. Make our report.” Humia says, beckoning the guard over to join you. “Why are you smiling at your communicator?”

"Hmmm?"

The Razor Crest had just arrived on Lakaran.

****************

Continue reading: Volume 4-Post #4: Say goodbye to the old me.

Back to Volume 4 - all posts

[thelaithlyworm]

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

BY WALLACE STEVENS

I

Among twenty snowy mountains,    The only moving thing    Was the eye of the blackbird.   

II

I was of three minds,    Like a tree    In which there are three blackbirds.   

III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.    It was a small part of the pantomime.   

IV

A man and a woman    Are one.    A man and a woman and a blackbird    Are one.   

V

I do not know which to prefer,    The beauty of inflections    Or the beauty of innuendoes,    The blackbird whistling    Or just after.   

VI

Icicles filled the long window    With barbaric glass.    The shadow of the blackbird    Crossed it, to and fro.    The mood    Traced in the shadow    An indecipherable cause.   

VII

O thin men of Haddam,    Why do you imagine golden birds?    Do you not see how the blackbird    Walks around the feet    Of the women about you?   

VIII

I know noble accents    And lucid, inescapable rhythms;    But I know, too,    That the blackbird is involved    In what I know.   

IX

When the blackbird flew out of sight,    It marked the edge    Of one of many circles.   

X

At the sight of blackbirds    Flying in a green light,    Even the bawds of euphony    Would cry out sharply.   

XI

He rode over Connecticut    In a glass coach.    Once, a fear pierced him,    In that he mistook    The shadow of his equipage    For blackbirds.   

XII

The river is moving.    The blackbird must be flying.   

XIII

It was evening all afternoon.    It was snowing    And it was going to snow.    The blackbird sat    In the cedar-limbs.

[phantom-trollbooth]

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

I

Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird.

II

I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds.

III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV

A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one.

V

I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after.

VI

Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass. The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause.

VII

O thin men of Haddam, Why do you imagine golden birds? Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you?

VIII

I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know.

IX

When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles.

X

At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.

XI

He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds.

XII

The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.

XIII

It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs.

Wallace Stevens

[tnpx]

I put this release date in my calendar a while back but ooowweee that first sentence of the podcast description! “In episode thirteen of season two, co-hosts Dr. CBS and Dr. Layla Brown, start by shooting the shit with producer, Too Black, about "In-the-Room Privilege" -- when members of marginalized groups falsely believe they represent their group simply by being in the room where decisions are made.” That’s the exact humility I had to learn after my kkkarolina student government career ended and why I stay pissed off at table sitters since.

https://open.spotify.com/episode/4tmgYskL8UDgwqvccvFnP5? si=uCKTQTHRT8iUS9gIoK0GBw

Upcoming Book Event with Hamarket Books May 9th 5:00 pm to 6:30 pm:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/elite-capture-tickets-317714301027?utm-campaign=social&utm-content=attendeeshare&utm-medium=discovery&utm-term=listing&utm-source=cp&aff=escb

From the book listing at Haymarket Books:

“Identity politics” is everywhere, polarizing discourse from the campaign trail to the classroom and amplifying antagonisms in the media, both online and off. But the compulsively referenced phrase bears little resemblance to the concept as first introduced by the radical Black feminist Combahee River Collective. While the Collective articulated a political viewpoint grounded in their own position as Black lesbians with the explicit aim of building solidarity across lines of difference, identity politics is now frequently weaponized as a means of closing ranks around ever-narrower conceptions of group interests.

But the trouble, Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò deftly argues, is not with identity politics itself. Through a substantive engagement with the global Black radical tradition and a critical understanding of racial capitalism, Táíwò identifies the process by which a radical concept can be stripped of its political substance and liberatory potential by becoming the victim of elite capture—deployed by political, social, and economic elites in the service of their own interests.

Táíwò’s crucial intervention both elucidates this complex process and helps us move beyond a binary of “class” vs. “race.” By rejecting elitist identity politics in favor of a constructive politics of radical solidarity, he advances the possibility of organizing across our differences in the urgent struggle for a better world.

Reviews

“I was waiting for this book without realizing I was waiting for this book.”

—Ruth Wilson Gilmore, author of Change Everything: Racial Capitalism and the Case for Abolition

“Olúfémi O. Táíwò is a thinker on fire. He not only calls out empire for shrouding its bloodied hands in the cloth of magical thinking but calls on all of us to do the same. Elite capture, after all, is about turning oppression and its cure into a (neo)liberal commodity exchange where identities become capitalism’s latest currency rather than the grounds for revolutionary transformation. The lesson is clear: only when we think for ourselves and act with each other, together in deep, dynamic, and difficult solidarity, can we begin to remake the world.”

—Robin D. G. Kelley, author of Freedom Dreams: The Black Radical Imagination

“Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò’s book is worth sitting with and absorbing. While critically examining what happens when elites hijack our critiques and terminologies for their own interests, Elite Capture acutely reminds us that building power globally means we think and build outside of our internal confines. That is when we have the greatest possibility at worldmaking.”

—Ibram X. Kendi, National Book Award-winning author of Stamped from the Beginning and How to Be an Antiracist

“Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò offers an indispensable and urgent set of analyses, interventions, and alternatives to "identity politics," "centering," and much more. The book offers a sober assessment of the state of our racial politics and a powerful path on how to build the world that we deserve.”

—Derecka Purnell, author of Becoming Abolitionists

“With global breadth, clarity and precision, Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò dissects the causes and consequences of elite capture and charts an alternative constructive politics for our time. The result is an erudite yet accessible book that draws widely on the rich traditions of black and anticolonial political thought.”

—Adom Getachew, author of Worldmaking after Empire: The Rise and Fall of Self-Determination

“Among the churn of books on ‘wokeness’ and ‘political correctness,’ philosopher Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò’s Elite Capture clearly stands out. With calm, clarity, erudition, and authority, Táíwò walks the reader through the morass, deftly explicating the distinction between substantive and worthy critique and weaponized backlash. Understanding the culture wars is essential to US politics right now, and no one has done it better than Táíwò in this book.”

—Jason Stanley, author of How Fascism Works

“Olúfẹḿi O. Táíwò is one of the great social theorists of our generation. Elite Capture is a brilliant, devastating book. Táíwò deploys his characteristic blend of philosophical rigor, sociological insight, and political clarity to reset the debate on identity politics. Táíwò shows how the structure of racial capitalism, not misguided activism, is today’s prime threat to egalitarian, anti-racist politics. And Táíwò’s suggested path forward, a constructive and materialist politics at the radical edge of the possible, is exactly what we need to escape these desperate times. Anyone concerned with dismantling inequalities, and building a better world, needs to read this book.”

—Daniel Aldana Cohen, co-author of A Planet to Win: Why We Need a Green New Deal

“Táíwò's book is an insightful and fascinating look at how it is that elites capture and subvert efforts to better society. Anyone who wants to understand and improve upon the activist movements shaking our world needs to read this book.”

—Liam Kofi Bright, assistant professor at the London School of Economics

“This book, building on one of the most lucid, powerful, and important essays I can recall reading in recent years, is, in a word, brilliant. Read it—and read it twice. Every sentence contains multitudes.”

—Daniel Denvir, host, The Dig

[ryekiree]

Autumn

Notes: Kakashi and Sakura are the same age in this story (thirteen years old) and this is a non-ninjaverse AU. Enjoy!

x---------------------------------------x

It was late in the afternoon when they just sat comfortably beside each other, staring at the river in front of them. The sun was setting and the cold autumn breeze threatened to push past their clothing, which caused shivers down Sakura’s spine.

When she looked at Kakashi, he was a bit distracted, and slowly, he closed his eyes. She had a lot of questions to ask him today but supposed it wasn’t a good time. Then without warning, he took off his green scarf from his neck and wrapped it around Sakura. She was surprised since he didn’t really have much clothing on to fight the cold.

“Kakashi, you need it more than me.”

He just sighed and said, “With the way you’re shivering, you need it more. Or you might end up getting frozen under this weather.” Which was an exaggeration, she knew.

She rolled her eyes and touched the scarf. The fabric was soft and it smelled nice. Smelled like Kakashi, even though she didn’t really understand that yet. But the way things are going right now, it seemed her budding feelings for Kakashi are not going away anytime soon.

Then she remembered that it was supposed to be their first week of being friends. She was the one who brought up the idea of bringing gifts to each other on their “week-sary”, but here she was, the forgetful one—at thirteen years old.

She panicked slightly, but she didn’t want to show how panicked she was in front of Kakashi. She thought of plucking another flower, but all she could see was cosmos, and she didn’t want to give him something she already gave the first time.

She thought of just returning the scarf for now, but it felt nice to be wrapped up in his warmth.

So, the next thing she did was something both of them didn’t expect.

Sakura moved closer beside him and kneeled so she was a bit taller than him. When Kakashi turned his head to her, looking up, she placed her palms on his cheeks gently, careful not to squeeze him too much. Then, placed her lips onto his forehead, kissing it.

She could see Kakashi being flustered when she pulled away. She knew her cheeks were red, but it didn’t bother her. She didn’t really know how bold she was until then.

“I didn’t know what to give you, so I ended up improvising.” She smiled at him, cheeks and ears red, breathing already uneven from the nervousness that was building up just then. Then, it was like being splashed onto ice cubes, she was embarrassed by what she just did.

Then she stood up and told him that her parents are looking for her, even though just a couple of minutes ago, she said she already asked permission from her parents to be home late.

She ran away from Kakashi, and she can see him wide-eyed and almost on the verge of tears. She could hear him call her by her name but she just shouted and waved, “See you tomorrow!”

Kakashi never waved back at her, and she thought it was just because of the shock he still felt from the kiss.

x---------------------------------------x

In the next few days, she never saw Kakashi again. She waited every day at their spot in the playground, but he never came.

First, she thought that she might just have the wrong time, but she tried to go there at different times, and he still wasn’t there.

Then she thought it was because of what she did, which devastated her.

She cried and cried until there were no more tears. She held onto his scarf as it was the only thing that will make her remember him. Was this how one’s first heartbreak really felt? She was only thirteen, for God’s sake. Her mother told her she’ll be able to move on from it soon, but her mother didn’t understand her and how she felt about him—about Kakashi. Puppy love, her mother mentioned to her.

But it didn’t feel like puppy love to her, it felt like the end of her world.

x---------------------------------------x

Then she came to know from Obito, her schoolmate and Kakashi's only friend, that Kakashi had already left. Obito was surprised that Kakashi wasn’t able to say goodbye. Obito told her about Kakashi just visiting them as he was the son of their family’s friend and their fathers had some business with each other.

She tried to understand it all and came to realize that it was her fault that Kakashi wasn’t able to say goodbye. He remembered the distracted looks, his eyes closed when he was thinking, and then the sad gaze he had when she ran away from him and realized that she could never take it all of it back. He spent the day with her and gave her his scarf. She panicked too much when she could have stayed. So, she cried again when she thought she didn’t have any tears to shed anymore.

But what’s done is done and Kakashi was gone. And now, she’s going to wait for him to come back, however long it takes.

x---------------------------------------x

End Notes: So, this thought process is childish, I know, as we’re dealing with teenage girls who were newly exposed to love. This was something that I’ve personally experienced so this was basically my thought process before about 14 to 15 years ago.

[incorrectqus]

Canon LGBTQ+ DC Comics Characters

(only doing Prime Earth, but if y’all want I can do different Earth’s too)

Akila of Bana-Mighdall (Akila) Lesbian

Albert Caldecott Bisexual

Alpha Centurion (Roman) Gay 

Alysia Yeoh Transgender/Bisexual

Anaya Lesbian

Apollo (Phoebus Apollo) Bisexual

Apollo (Andrew Pulaski) Gay

Aqualad (Jackson Hyde) Gay

Artemis or Bana-Mighdall (Artemis) Bisexual

Atlantiades Transgender

Batwoman (Katherine Kane) Lesbian

Bellacheck Temple Gay

Berenice Yoon MilonasBisexuall

Bolt (Lawrence Bolatinsky) Gay

Brain (Ernst) Bisexual

Bride (Bride of Frankenstein) Bisexual

Bunker (Miguel Barragan) Gay

Burden (Christopher) Gay

Burke Day Transgender

Caden Zapote Gay

Cameron Chase Lesbian

Carver Colman Gay

Casey Brinke Bisexual

Casey Klebba Gay

Catman (Thomas Blake) Bisexual

Catwoman (Selina Kyle) Bisexual

Catwoman (Eiko Hasigawa) Lesbian

Colton Rivera Gay

Crush (Xiomara Rojas) Lesbian

Dale Gunn Gay

Danny the Street Transgender

David Singh Gay

Derinoe Lesbian

Dez Trevius Gay

Diane MeadeBisexual

Djinn II Bisexual

DNA Non-Binary

Doctor Ikon (David Isherwood) Gay

Exoristos Lesbian

Francine CharlesBisexual

Frederick HemsleyBisexual

Green Lantern (Kaja Dox) Lesbian

Harley Quinn (Harleen Quintal) Bisexual

Harley Sinn (Constance Brand) Lesbian

Harvey Quinn (Harvey McPherson) Gay

Hellblazer (John Constantine) Bisexual

Hippolyte Bisexual

Icicle (Cameron Mahkent) Gay

Io Lesbian

Jane Whitecrest (Jane Stepford) Bisexual

Jeanette Bisexual>l

Jinny Hex Lesbian

Jo Lesbian

John Troughton Gay

Julia Perry (Julia Pennyworth) Bisexual

Knife (Tahani) Lesbian

KnockoutBisexual

March Harriet (Harriet Pratt) Bisexual

Margaret Sawyer Lesbian

Maxima Lesbian

Midnighter Gay

Miki Transgender

Mother Panic (Violet Paige) Bisexual

Neon the Unknown (Colin Nomi) Bisexual

Nick Necro (Nicolas Nolan) Bisexual

Nightmare Nurse (Asa) Bisexual

Nocturna (Natalia Mitternacht) Bisexual

OliverBisexual

Orange Lantern (Glomulus) Asexual

Otto Haddon Gay

Pado Swakatoon Transgender

Philippus Lesbian

Pied Piper (Hartley Rathaway) Gay

Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley)Bisexual

Porcelain (Kani) Transgender/Bisexual/Non-Binary

Primaa Lesbian

Prometheus Gay

Rainmaker (Sarah Rainmaker) Bisexual

Red Phantom (Michael Drown) Gay

Roberto Diaz Gay

Safiyah Sohail Lesbian

Scandal Savage Lesbian

Scream Queen (Nina Skorzeny) Lesbian

Shade (Loma Shade) Bisexual

Shade (River Johnson) Bisexual

Shay Veritas Lesbian

Shining Knight (Ystin) Transgender

Sophie Moore Lesbian

Stallion (Randy Harrahan) Gay

Starling (Evelyn Crawford) Bisexual

Starman (Mikaal Tomas) Gay

Steel (Natasha Irons) Lesbian

Suditi Varma Lesbian

Tasmanian Devil (Hugh Dawkins) Gay

Terry None Lesbian

Tonya Lu Lesbian

Traci 13 (Traci Thirteen) Lesbian

Tremor (Rossana Chatterji) Asexual

The Aerie Non-Binary

The Question (Renee Montoya) Lesbian

The Ray (Raymond Terrill) Gay

Victoria October Transgender

Virtue (Holly Ann Fields) Lesbian

Weston Toomey Bisexual

Wolf Spider (Evan Blake) Gay

Wonder Woman (Diana Prince) Bisexual

Xenos Gay

Ya’Wara Bisexual

[whisperthatruns]

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

I Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime. IV A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one. V I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after. VI Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass. The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause. VII O thin men of Haddam, Why do you imagine golden birds? Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you? VIII I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know. IX When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles. X At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. XI He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds. XII The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying. XIII It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs. 

Wallace Stevens

[scotianostra]

On May 11th  1685  Margaret Lachlane, or McLachlan, and Margaret Wilson were put to death.

The sins of our past are sair tae bare at times and this is certainly one that qualifies as such, what makes it all the more sad is that they had been reprieved, but the distance from Edinburgh to Wigtown but for reasons unknown it never made it to save the women.

Here’s the background, some of you might know but not all, back in 17th century religion was very important to most people in Scotland, indeed the worldover. The reformation waa over and Protestants were in the vast majority, especially in the more populace lowlands.  By now The Stuart Monarchy ruled both Scotland and England, having survived a civil war in which Charles I lost his head, eventually his son, Charle II was invited back to take the throne. You would have thought that Charles II had learned his lesson, his old boy had tried to enforce the English form of the Protestant religion in Scotland but failed, young Charles tried again but the Scots were not having it, many Scots signed what is known as The National Covenant that pledged to defend “their” true religion against innovations like those down south. Many were put to death for refusing to swear allegiance to the King and “his” prayer book. Over the years there were many battles and lives lost, it is now known in Scotland as “The Killing Time"

ny way the people thought it might come to an end in February 1658 when Charles II died, those who had been hiding from persecution started returning to their homes, including  the young Wilson girls who were sheltered at the home of  Margaret McLachlan, a 63 year old widow who lived at Drumjargan in Kirkinner Parish.  A local man betrayed them when they came into Wigtown, and the two girls were taken prisoner.  At the same time, Margaret McLachlan was seized while at prayer in her own home, and held in custody with them.  The women were required to take the Oath of Abjuration which had earlier been administered to everyone in the County over the age of 13 years.  This had been introduced on 25 November 1684 by the Privy Council, in order to catch sympathisers of Richard Cameron.  In a public declaration at Sanquhar Cross, Cameron had denounced the King as a tyrant and declared war on him.

Refusal to swear the Oath allowed execution without trial;  men could be hanged or shot;  a new sentence had been introduced for women:  death by drowning.  The women refused the Oath and were brought before the Commission.  The Commissioners, Grierson of Lagg, Sheriff David Graham (Claverhouse’s brother), Major Windram, Captain Strachan and Provost Coltrane of Wigtown, have been described as “five of the most vicious scoundrels in Scotland”.  

Margaret McLachlan with Margaret and Agnes Wilson were found guilty on all charges and they were sentenced “to be tyed to palisadoes and fixed in the sand, within the flood mark, at the mouth of the Blednoch stream, and there to stand till the flood over flowed them, and [they] drowned”.  Agnes Wilson (aged only thirteen at the time) was reprieved, when her father promised to pay a bond of £100, a fortune in that day.

A pardon was issued in Edinburgh, dated 30 April 1685, for both women   It remains a mystery what happened to it, since no record of it remains beyond the Council Chamber.  They were taken out and tied to stakes in the waters of the Bladnoch on 11 May 1685.  The older woman was tied deeper in the river channel forcing young Margaret to witness her death, in the hope that she would relent.  Instead, she seemed to take strength from the older woman’s fate, singing a psalm, and quoting scripture.

The events are recorded in the Kirk Session records of both Penninghame and Kirkinner parishes, vouched for by elders and ministers who were present on the day, and the records confirmed by the Presbytery of Wigtown.  The Penninghame records say that Margaret Wilson’s head was held up from the water, in order to ask her if she would pray for the King.  She answered that she wished the salvation of all men, but the damnation of none.  When her watching relatives cried out that this proved she was willing to conform, Major Windram offered her the Oath of Abjuration again, but she refused, saying “I am one of Christ’s children; let me go”.

The Kirkinner records state that Margaret McLachan’s head had been “held down within the water by one of the town officers by his halberd at her throat, til she died”.  A popular account adds that the officer said “then tak’ another drink o’t my hearty”.  Legend has it that for the rest of his life the man had an unquenchable thirst, and had to stop and drink from every ditch, stream, or tap he passed, and he was deserted by his friends.

Likewise the constable named Bell, who had carried out his duties with a notable lack of feeling, allegedly said, when asked how the women had behaved, “O, they just clepped roun the stobs, like partans and prayed”.  Clepped means web-footed, partans are crabs.  Bell’s wife bore three children all with “clepped” fingers, and the family was referred to as “the Cleppie Bells” which was believed to be the sins of the father being visited on the children.

It was not only women who died, William Johnstone, John Milroy and George Walker were hanged in Wigtown the same year, for refusal to take the oath, but Margaret Wilson, due to her young age has become the most famous of the martyrs and is the subject of a famous painting by the English artist  John Everett Millais called The Martyr of Solway.

Art conservators have x-rayed the painting and found out that Millais had originally painted the upper torso of the young woman naked.  However when the painting was exhibited in 1871 there were strong puritanical views on nudity in paintings and Millais’ work offended Victorian sensibilities.  It was badly received and was the butt of many negatively critical reviews. Hence it was painted over to save the Victorian eyes of such a sight!

The photo is from Stirling Old Town Cemetery a monument  to the Wigtown Martyrs, further afield a  Victorian statue of Margaret Wilson’s martyrdom is on display at Knox College, University of Toronto, Canada, as seen in the second pic, the third pic is the Martyrs' Grave, Wigtown parish church, Dumfries and Galloway

[cardest]

Tennessee playlist

I’m going to Memphis! This is the mighty Tennessee - Memphis & Nashville playlist. You can’t tell the story of rock n roll without mentioning Memphis. Mississippi and Nashville, such a great history of music in this region. Chuck D hits things off with the ultimate introduction. Hit play here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_X9nesbW37-9FNLiJWOQ1f

This playlist has it all. Soul, blues and rock n roll. We take a journey back to the beginning of country as well, with Nashville and finish up at Dollywood. Hope you dig it.

Tennessee - Mississippi - Arkansas

001 Henry Rollins & Chuck D - Rise Above 002 Clutch -  Devil & Me 003 Paul Simon - Graceland 004 Isaac Hayes - Memphis Trax 005 Scott Walker - Thats How I Got to Memphis 006 AC/DC - let there be rock 007 Johnny Cash -  Country Boy 008 Chuck Berry -  Back To Memphis 009 Jay Reatard - Gree, Money, Useless Children 010 Lukah - Black Dragon 011 King Curtis - Memphis Soul Stew 012 Rosetta Howard & the Harlem Hamfats - Delta Bound 013 Nots - In Glass 014 Pere Ubu - Memphis 015 Loretta Lynn - The Pill 016 Howlin Wolf - Smokestack Lightnin 017 Rory Gallagher - The Mississippi Sheiks 018 Crime and the City Solution - Streets Of West Memphis 019 River City Tanlines - Met You Before 020 Johnny Cash - Going To Memphis 021 Al Green - Get Back Baby 022 Kim Salmon & The Surrealists - The Zipper 023 Booker T & the MG - Melting Pot 024 Pussycat - Mississippi 025 Boswell Sisters - Roll On, Mississippi, Roll On 026 Aretha Franklin   - Muddy Water 027 The Cramps - Garbageman 028 HASH REDACTOR - Good Sense 029 Optic Sink - Personified 030 Angry Angles - Blockhead 031 Big Star - Thirteen 032 Memphis Jug Band -  Going Back to Memphis 033 North Mississippi AllStars - K.C. Jones (On The Road Again) 034 Bass Drum Of Death -  Bad Reputation 035 Today Is the Day -  The Devil's Blood 036 Walk the Line Soundtrack- Get Rhythm 037 Jack White -  Temporary Ground 038 Jerry Lee Lewis - A Damn Good Country Song 039 The Homemade Jamz Blues Band - Rumors 040 Saving Abel - Pine Mountain (The Dance of the Poor Proud Man) 041 The Oxford Circle - Foolish Woman 042 Bobbie Gentry - Greyhound Goin' Somewhere 043 Reigning Sound - A Little More Time 044 NINA SIMONE - MISSISSIPPI GODDAM! 045 Laurie Anderson - Hiawatha 046 Glen Campbell - Burning Bridges 047 Dolly Parton - Hillbilly Willy 048 Elvis Presley - Guitar Man 049 Blue Oyster Cult - Divine Wind 050 Sammy Hagar - Halfway To Memphis 051 Izzy Stradlin   - Memphis                       052 Johnny Cash -  Run Softly, Blue River 053 Iron Horse - Unchained 054 The Cramps - Human Fly 055 Faces - Memphis 056 Jack Oblivian - Rat City 057 The Cooters - Bustin' Loose 058 Mott the Hoople - All The Way From Memphis 059 Dusty Springfield -  Breakfast in Bed 060 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Tupelo 061 Chicago - Blues In The Night             062 Crossin Dixon - Guitar Slinger 063 Strummin' With The Devil - And the Cradle Will Rock 064 Stray Cats -  Can't Go Back to Memphis 065 Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds 066 Suzi Quatro - Can't Trust Love 067 Lost Sounds - There's Nothing   068 Ike & Tina Turner ~ River Deep, Mountain High 069 Neil Diamond - Memphis Flyer 070 Julien Baker - hardline 071 The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Memphis Soul Typecast 072 Isaac Hayes  - Groove-A-Thon 073 Otis Clay - Trying To Live My Life Without You 074 Tim McGraw - Don't Mention Memphis 075 Eric Burdon & War - Blues For Memphis Slim 076 Homemade Jamz Blues Band - Blues Train 077 Sweet Knives - I DON'T WANNA DIE 078 Cream - Four Until Late 079 Grateful Dead - Golden Road 080 Huey Lewis and the  NEWS - Function At The Junction 081 The Cramps - I Was A Teenage Werewolf 082 Jesse Winchester_ The Brand New Tennessee Waltz 083 Dorsey Burnette - Tall Oak Tree 084 Field Music - Time In Joy 085 Jay Reatard -  Blood Visions 086 The Rolling Stones - Honky Tonk Women 087 Quintron & Miss Pussycat  - Block the comet 088 Al Green - Let's Stay Together 089 The Mountain Goats - Getting Into Knives 090 Johnny Cash -  Tennessee Flat Top Box 091 Robert Pete Williams & Robert “Guitar" J. Welch - Mississippi Heavy Water Blues 092 MARY JAMES - MAKE THE DEVIL LEAVE ME ALONE 093 Ministry - Mississippi Queen 094 U.S. Bombs - Rocks in Memphis 095 Nazareth - Jet Lag 096 The Bar-Kays - Holy Ghost 097 Ty Segall - Despoiler Of Cadaver 098 His Hero Is Gone - Like Weeds 099 Jerry Lee Lewis - Memphis Beat 100 Generation X =  King Rocker 101 The Doobie Brothers - Wild Ride 102 Bad Company - Whiskey Bottle 103 Black Stone Cherry - When The Weight Comes Down 104 Buddy Miles - Memphis Train 105 Memphis Slim - Rockin' The House (Beer Drinkin' Woman) 106 David Clayton Thomas  - Wish The World Would Come to Memphis 107 Lost Sounds - Better Than Somethings 108 Alice Cooper - Ubangi Stomp 109 Tom Waits -  Don't Go Into The Barn 110 Hank Snow - Music Makin' Mama From Memphis 111 Phil Ochs - Heres to the State of Misssippi 112 Reigning Sound  - Your Love Is A Fine Thing 113 Pixies -  Letter to Memphis 114 Bob Dylan - Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again 115 The Colorblind James Experience - Considering A Move To Memphis 116 B.B.King - Rock Me Baby 117 Carla Thomas - B-A-B-Y 118 Aquarian Blood - A Love That Leads To War 119 Nights Like These - Scavenger's Daughter 120 Rufus Thomas - Walking the Dog 121 Clutch -  The House That Peterbilt 122 Lyal Strickland - O Arkansas 123 Don Bryant - How Do I Get There 124 The Sensational Barnes Brothers - Trying To Go Home 125 Squirrel Nut Zippers - Memphis Exorcism 126 Faster Pussycat - Tattoo 127 The Rolling Stones - Memphis Tennessee 128 Alcatrazz -  Sons And Lovers 129 Evil Army - Violence And War 130 Deep Purple - Somebody Stole My Guitar (Purpendicular 11) 131 Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs 132 UFO - Natural Thing 133 Thunderbridge Bluegrass Boys - Tennessee 134 Confederate Railroad - Queen of Memphis 135 The Box Tops - The Letter 136 Jerry Lee Lewis - Night Train To Memphis 137 Reverend John Wilkins - Trouble 138 Phil Lynott - Kings Call (feat. Mark Knopfler) 139 Old Crow Medicine Show - Motel in Memphis 140 Candy Lee- Here in Arkansas 141 Pharoah Sanders - You've Got To Have Freedom 142 Molly Hatchet - Mississippi Moon Dog 143 Rwake - Crooked Rivers 144 CARL PERKINS & PAUL SIMON - A Mile Out Of Memphis 145 Eddie Floyd - Knock On Wood 146 Al Green - Talk to me 147 Mush - Eat the Etiquette 148 PJ Harvey - Memphis 149 EX-CULT  - Clinical Study 150 Isaac Hayes  - Mans Temptation 151 Lil’ Jon & Eastside Boyz - Rep Yo City 152 Rufus Wainwright - Memphis Skyline 153 Stray Cats - 18 Miles to Memphis 154 Amasa Hines - Earth and Sky 155 Joe Henderson -  Back Road 156 Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash - Memphis Woman 157 Norma Jean - Memphis Will Be Laid To Waste 158 Fess Parker - Ballad of Davy Crockett 159 Assjack -  Redneck Ride 160 Brother Andy & His Big Damn Mouth - Social Lube 161 The Replacements - Alex Chilton 162 Ann Peebles - The handwriting is on the wall 163 The Highwaymen -  Big River 164 The Cult - Memphis Hip Shake 165 STEVE EARLE -  Hillbilly Highway 166 The BO-KEYS featuring OTIS CLAY -Got To Get Back 167 Rush - Tom Sawyer 168 Class Of '55: Memphis Rock & Roll Homecoming - Birth Of Rock And Roll 169 Hank Williams Jr - Memphis Belle 170 Sam Moore & Dave Prater - Soul Man 171 Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark - Bloc Bloc Bloc 172 Kenny Rogers & The First Edition  - Just Dropped In 173 Linda Heck - pictures of dead people 174 Carla Thomas - Sugar 175 Three Mafia 6 - Mystic Stylez 176 Osborne Brothers- Rocky Top 177 The Beverly Hillbillies Theme Song 178 Wilson Pickett - Barefootin' 179 Dolly Parton - Jolene 180 Charlie Daniels - long haired country boy 181 The Civil Wars - From This Valley 182 Jill Jack - Gettin' On In Memphis (The Elvis Song) 183 Huckleberry Finn and His Friends - Opening title 184 Dead Cross -  Skin of a Redneck 185 Johnny Cash - I Never Picked Cotton 186 Old Crow Medicine Show -  Wagon Wheel 187 Isaac Hayes  - That love feeling 188 Aretha Franklin - I say a little prayer 189 Little Milton - What Do You Do When You Love Somebody 190 Howlin' Wolf - Spoonful 191 Weird Al" Yankovic - Money For Nothing / Beverly Hillbillies 192 The Oblivians - I'll Be Gone 193 OT Sykes - Stone crush on you 194 The Mad Lads  - Come closer to me 195 The Box Tops - Choo Choo train 196 Bobby Blue Bland - dreamer 197 Wanda Jackson - Rip It Up 198 Junior Parker - Love Ain't Nothin' but a Business Goin' On 199 The Nightingales ft. Tommy Tate - Just a Little Overcome 200  The Louvin Brothers - Satan is real 201 Overture "Big River" - (1985 Original Broadway Cast) 202 Ike & Tina Turner - Shake 203 Playa Fly - fly shit 204 Adia Victoria - Different Kind Of Love 205 Grateful Dead - Tennessee Jed 206 Red Hot Chili Peppers - Backwoods 207 Otis Redding - Tennessee Waltz 208 Nashville Pussy - The Late Great USA 209 The Paperhead - The true poet 210 Tomahawk - South Paw 211 Night Beats - Her Cold Cold Heart 212 Forest of Tygers - human monster 213 LOSS - All Grows on Tears 214 Charlie McCoy - Wayfaring Stranger 215 Dick Stusso - Modern Music 216 Eddie Noack - Aint the Reaping Ever Done 217 Jason & the Scorchers - Greetings From Nashville   218 Jasmin Kaset and Quichenight - A Single Right Word 219  Gospel Keynotes - Give Me My Flowers 220   WEEN - Scrape the Mucus off My Brain 221 Shannon Shaw - Broke My Own 222 The Jesus Lizard - Blue Shot 223 Eddy Arnold    - Tennessee Stud 224 Clutch - Pure Rock Fury 225 Today Is The Day -  Who Is The Black Angel? 226 Hank Williams Jnr - Tennessee River 227 The Dead Weather -  Bone House 228  Every Mother's Nightmare - Long Haired Country Boy 229 Motley Crue - She goes down 230 Waylon Jennings - Tennessee 231 Dolly Parton - Down On Music Row 232 Jello Biafra & Mojo Nixon - Lets Go Burn Ole Nashville Down 233 The Byrds - Nashville West 234 Sharon Van Etten - Every Time the Sun Comes Up 235 Bill Anderson ~ More Than A Bedroom Thing 236 Dottie West - Route 65 To Nashville 237 Intruder - The Martyr 238 Johnny Cash - Smiling Bill McCall 239 Lynard Skynyrd - Workin For MCA 240 The Everly Brothers  - Nashville Blues 241 Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood - Elusive Dreams 242 Nashville Bluegrass Band - Im Gonna Love You 243 Ringo Starr - No-No Song 244 Hank Williams - Hey, Good Lookin' 245 The Lovin Spoonful - Nashville Cats 246 They Might Be Giants - James K. Polk 247 Commander Cody  -  Back To Tennessee 248 Wanda Jackson - Shakin' All Over 249 Nitty Gritty Dirt Band - Grand Ole Opry Song 250 Tomahawk - Flashback 251 Megadeth -  Dystopia 252 Dolly Parton -  Train, Train 253 The Clovers - One Mint Julep 254 Trampled By Turtles - Whiskey 255 Tom T. Hall - Nashville is a Groovy Little Town 256 Muddy Waters - I am the blues 257 Foo Fighters - Congregation 258 Pavement - Strings Of Nashville 259 Joe Ely - Tennessees Not The State Im In 260 Waylon Jennings - Nashville Bum 261 The Charmels - As Long As I Got You 262 Eve Maret - Do my thing 263 SABATON - 82nd All the Way 264 Halfway To Hazard - Welcome To Nashville 265 Nashville Pussy - Go Motherfucker Go 266 Indigo Girls - Nashville 267 Snarls - Walk In The Woods 268 Steeler - Cold Day in Hell 269 Strummin' With The Devil  - Jamies Cryin' 270 spazz gummo love theme 271 The Cramps - Cornfed Dames 272 Saxon -  Solid Ball Of Rock 273 Al Green - Tired of Being Alone 274 Soul Friction - It's Out Of My Hands 275 Today Is the Day - Wheelin' 276 Jackie Lynn - Odessa 277 The Jesus Lizard - Nub 278 Bully - Where To Start 279 Sonny Boy Williamson II - Lonesome Cabin 280 Tomahawk - God hates a coward 281 The Louvin Brothers - Knoxville Girl 282 Tom Waits - Jitterbug Boys 283 The Evil Dead Soundtrack  - Bridge Out 284 Wanda Jackson - Thunder On The Mountain 285 Elvis Presley - Where Do I Go From Here 286 Booker T & the MGs - Back Home 287 Ezra Furman & the Harpoons - American Highway 288 Joe Ely - dream camera 289 Assjack - Tennessee Driver 290 Nashville Pussy  - We Want A War 291 Dwight Yoakam - A Thousand Miles From Nowhere 292 Hank Williams, Jr. - Knoxville Courthouse Blues 293 ZZ Top - My Head's in Mississippi 294 Nitty Gritty Dirt Band -  Honky Tonkin' 295 Dead Weather - Die by the Drop 296 The Black Belles - What can I do 297 Dolly Parton  - Cowgirl And The Dandy 298 The Secret Sisters  - I've Got a Feeling 299 Justin Townes Earle - Aint Got No Money 300 Tomahawk - M.E.A.T 301 Jex Thoth - The Places You Walk 302 Bill Carter - Road To Nowhere 303 Bill Dees (Roy Orbison back vocals) - Tennesse Owns My Soul 304 Karen Elson  - The Ghost Who Walks 305 The Who - Whiskey Man 306 Hank Williams III - Crazed Country Rebel 307 The Lost Sounds - I Get Nervous 308 Big Star - September Gurls 309 ZZ Top - Whiskey n Mama 310 Johnny Cash - God's Gonna Cut You Down 666 Isaac Hayes - Hyperbolicsyllablecsesquedalymistic

Hit play: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_X9nesbW37-9FNLiJWOQ1f

[artdaily7]

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens

I Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird.

II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds.

III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one.

V I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after.

VI Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass. The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause.

VII O thin men of Haddam, Why do you imagine golden birds? Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you?

VIII I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know.

IX When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles.

X At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.

XI He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds.

XII The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.

XIII It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs.

Winslow Homer 1886 Redwing Blackbirds, watercolor, Philadelphia Museum of Art

[serendipitous-posts]

Doctor Who Q&A!

Who is your Doctor?

Matt Smith! Funny story about him actually-he was the first doctor I ever watched-it was Time of the Angels, but at the time I watched that episode, Matt Smith’s run was over. I went back and watched Nine and Ten, and then rewatched Eleven before hitting Twelve up. Eleven has always had a special place in my heart

Your favourite Doctor?

Funnily enough, Twelve. He faintly edges out Eleven in this regard. I think I just really enjoy his humour, dry and sarcastic, and the character arc of wondering whether he’s a good person or not really spoke to me. Yeah, stinky eyebrow man wins in this regard

Least favourite Doctor?

Either Nine or Thirteen? I found Nine to be somewhat boring, I liked his humour, but most of the time was spent setting up his backstory, or that weird romance thing with Rose, and since romance has never interested me, except in certain areas *shrugs*

Thirteen isn’t anything to do with Jodie Whittaker, it’s just that the best moments of Doctor Who are when the Doctor is sad, or vulnerable or angry. The Oncoming Storm is a big part of it all. And it seems that she never really has the oppurtunity to be emotional in this yet. That’s the scriptwriters fault, not hers, and I’m happy they’re starting to change it with the new season.

Best regeneration?

Oh god, that’s actually a tie between Ten, Eleven and Twelve for me

Ten dies alone and it is awful. His last lines brought me to tears, and there’s something so sad about him being killed protecting one of his friends. 

Eleven had me sobbing. Out of the three, he’s the only one who met this whole thing with acceptance, and he’s the only one to not be alone when it happens. His was the nicest out of the three, but because he was MY Doctor, I was bawling like a baby. When Amy appeared I  b r  o k e

Twelve is heartbreakingly realistic. He’s not resisting change like Ten is, he just wants to rest, for once. Like Ten, he dies alone, with only memories to comfort him, and I remember tearing up when he told Thirteen what he told Clara

Who is the most human Doctor?

Either Ten or Twelve. Both of them are conflicted about their morality and whether they should do the right thing or not, both of them try and fail and try again. Twelve is just the one to realise he’s not good or bad, he’s an idiot.

Best Companion?

Donna Noble or Amy Pond and Rory. 

I am a sex repulsed ace-aro, this means I would rather stick my hand in a woodchipper than be in a relationship with someone. Platonic friendships and family have always been my bread and butter and these three are perfect for the Doctor.

Donna Noble? Bold, sassy, determined. Her mom is constantly putting her down, and yet she’s the saviour of the Universe. She doesn’t hesitate to call Ten out on his bullshit, and her departure hurt me on so many levels. I have loved her ever since Pompeii, and I will decry the erasure of her character as unfair until the end of bloody time

Amy Pond and Rory. I’m putting these two together, because I only really started to like Amy when Rory came in. I love their character arcs, growing and changing. Their relationship is also fun to watch, once you get over the drama. I like relationships like Chandler and Monica, natural, fun to watch, not Ross and Rachel, dragged out, on and off again, and after a brief buffer period, these two sorted out their differences and their banter was amazing to watch. Also, the fact that they’re the Doctor’s in laws? They are the epitome of found family and I am LOVING IT

Shoutout to Martha Jones btw, runner up as always. I wish we got to see more of her when she WASN’T enamoured with the Doctor, watching her call him out in the Poison Sky was magnificent.

Worst Companion?

The Companions relationships with the Doctor are the most important thing in the show; what they think of him, how much they trust him, what extent are their feelings towards them, and to me, none was quite as boring as Rose and the Doctor.

I HATE will they-wont they plots, and that basically sums up their entire run together, getting jealous of eachothers partners, vaguely alluding towards their attraction to eachother, but not saying it, it drained all of the fun out of Rose. Her making out with a clone of the Doctor, in front of the Doctor was the final thing for me.

And while I’m all for the return of a Companion, she seems to linger throughout Ten’s run. I can understand why for Martha’s; that was her entire character arc after all, learning to expect better of yourself, but she didn’t need to be there for Donna’s; they very easily could have thought of another way to create DoctorDonna. Her presence was everywhere throughout David Tennants run, and I found it annoying

Favourite Doctor Who Ships?

River Song with Eleven, Twelve or Thirteen. As I said, banter and comedy is how you establish a good relationship, it shows how relaxed two people are together, and River with whichever Doctor she’s with at the time always has this flirty back and forth going on between them. They’re very open about their attraction to eachother, and I love it. Also, Thirteen and River because if you don’t think Thirteen is a raging pansexual then I have news for you.

Amy and Rory for the reasons I listed above; they sort through their issues, have good repartee and are a very enjoyable couple to watch

(I briefly shipped Eleven x Amy x Rory before I found out they were in laws, so shoutout to that.)

Least Favourite Doctor Who Ships?

Rose x Doctor. It would have been fine if they ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING WITH IT INSTEAD OF JUST HINTING AT IT

Martha x Doctor. Martha’s whole arc is about learning that the Doctor is treating her badly and that she doesn’t need him. To go back to him would invalidate that whole thing

Controversial Thought?

I know a lot of people hate Clara, but to be honest, I’m more apathetic/warm towards her. I loved her relationship with Twelve, and how she was almost a caretaker towards him. She starts to act like the Doctor after a while, but then that’s what the Companions DO, they become more versatile, more able to handle tough situations. I’m not happy how they made her immortal and gave her her own TARDIS, but other than that, I’m pretty mild towards her

Best Two-Parter Episode?

Heaven Sent and Hell Bent. It was one of those episodes, ones that are genuinely, deeply horrifying. I got chills when I realised how long the Doctor had been trapped in the Confession Dial. I wasn’t really happy with how the brought Clara back from the dead, but I was okay with it, because watching her read the High Command the riot act for how they treated the Doctor was so, so worth it

Best Doctor/companion pairing?

Ten and Donna. Loved their brother-sister duo relationship

If Two Doctors could meet, who would you choose?

Thirteen and Four would be fun; they have similar energy and scarves after all. Think that would be fun to see. Thirteen and Twelve would also have a nice energy between them I think. Maybe throw in some height jokes.

If any Companions could meet, who would you choose?

Donna and Amy would probably end up flirting with each other. But, at the same time, I think Donna may help Amy come away from her hero worship of the Doctor. 

Martha and Rory would bond over how they sometimes feel like third wheelers and probably share medical knowledge. Martha and Clara would be fun, caring for the Doctor’s health.

If any Companions could meet any Doctor, which would you choose?

Martha meets Twelve. Twelve is actively trying to figure out whether he’s a good person, and I can see him trying to make amends for the way he’s treated her.

Thirteen meets Amy and Rory. She probably wouldn’t tell them who she is, but she would be so excited to see them again

Donna meets Nine. They would spend the entire time snarking at eachother

The Fam meets Ten. He would be so overwhelmed when he sees how many people are joining him right now

[aletdownsquid]

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

I Among twenty snowy mountains,   The only moving thing   Was the eye of the blackbird.   II I was of three minds,   Like a tree   In which there are three blackbirds.   III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.   It was a small part of the pantomime.   IV A man and a woman   Are one.   A man and a woman and a blackbird   Are one.   V I do not know which to prefer,   The beauty of inflections   Or the beauty of innuendoes,   The blackbird whistling   Or just after.   VI Icicles filled the long window   With barbaric glass.   The shadow of the blackbird   Crossed it, to and fro.   The mood   Traced in the shadow   An indecipherable cause.   VII O thin men of Haddam,   Why do you imagine golden birds?   Do you not see how the blackbird   Walks around the feet   Of the women about you?   VIII I know noble accents   And lucid, inescapable rhythms;   But I know, too,   That the blackbird is involved   In what I know.   IX When the blackbird flew out of sight,   It marked the edge   Of one of many circles.   X At the sight of blackbirds   Flying in a green light,   Even the bawds of euphony   Would cry out sharply.   XI He rode over Connecticut   In a glass coach.   Once, a fear pierced him,   In that he mistook   The shadow of his equipage   For blackbirds.   XII The river is moving.   The blackbird must be flying.   XIII It was evening all afternoon.   It was snowing   And it was going to snow.   The blackbird sat   In the cedar-limbs.

BY WALLACE STEVENS

[thoschei-rights]

Even more Who Fic ideas I can’t write bc I’m lazy

Okay maybe not lazy- I don’t think I’m lazy? I just really struggle keeping attention, and after a paragraph I’m bored? I struggle to stick with thing?? Idk? I dunno how to explain- but yeah take my ideas and run with them if you like them?? Heck if you write them, hit me up, and I’ll literally link them in this post <3

Okay so some of these exist already but they’re all mostly text fics? But can we please have more Eleven/Dhawan!Master fics?? I think the fandom has mostly just accepted their original meeting was while he was Eleven because he’s the only New Who Doctor not to have a Master Post-Ten? (Look I bolded post-ten so yall don’t think I’m ignoring Nine and The War Doc??) Can we not have the Master lowkey flirting with Eleven and Eleven being flustered af bc Eleven was a baby :’) Idk? I just- I have no excuses haha

This is an idea Ive had for a while, because I like River and y’know? Space Wives?? Please? :’) But anyway, my biggest love would be Thirteen in the Library episodes? Thirteen lowkey infiltrating the exploration squad or whatever the fudge they were called, she could pass as a normal person albeit a bit eccentric? Because River definitely doesn’t know that face if the Husbands of River Song is anything to go by? Thirteen promising herself she’s not there to get involved or change anything, she’s just there to see River one more time- but then Oop- she get’s involved gg :’) Its up to you how much she changes, if anything gets overwritten? Go crazy yo-

This prompt contains Broadchurch S2 spoilers btw Okay this one is a crossover? Sorry. Normally I’m not a crossover person, I just don’t like them most of the time unless they’re really well written? I read an amazing D:BH x Marvel crossover once?? ANYWAY. I’m going off on one... Broadchurch x Who fics aren’t rare.. but ones including Thirteen are hella rare and it makes me so sad?? But anyway, I finished season 2 the other day and lol at they end, Paul is all like lol bye Joe off to Sheffield you go... and I’m just there fucking screaming? Imagine right? Joe is just chilling in Sheffield being the shitstain that he is? And he sees Thirteen? and he’s like? fuck? what? help? Extra points if she’s being super gay with Yaz or she’s lowkey with the Master :’) but either way Joe is pissing himself bc he’s like holy fuck i’m being haunted or karma or- idk :’) extra extra points if Thirteen spots this random human staring and thinks he’s being homophobic or racist or smth and she lowkey gives him a glare and hESHJBF,DJKBFHDHJKFSDG I’m fine. fuck. i’m honestly fine. Joe deserves jail thanks he made my baby cry :ccc

nOW I have that out of the way- iMAgine lets kill hitler but when River gives him her regenerative shizzle, it heals him yes, but he also regenerates into Twelve? bc by this point the ponds have witnessed Mels > River regeneration so they’re aware of the concept? but now? their young energetic puppy of a doctor is a grumpy scot? and they’re whiplash af? but they aren’t the type to get judgemental? bc he’s still the doctor? I think if the ponds ever had to deal with a regen, they’re definitely in the group that would be accepting and wouldn’t taken ten years to get over it (LOOKING AT YOU CLARA YOU MEANIE???) Rory having a mid-life crisis bc now he has TWO anger scot peoples 

Clara breaking Thirteen out of prison bc we’ve all seen the Jack versions but hi Clara can’t get back to Gallifrey to be put back in her timestream if iTS ALL DESTROYED SO IS SHE IMMORTAL??/ Anyway yeah Clara is like lmao psyche I’m gonna go save the dork from prison bc ur not telling me she doesn’t keep tabs on him? pft. Thirteen is like woah holy shit Clara? and Clara is like woah holy shit yoU REMEMBER ME AND YOU’RE GORGEOUS AND WOAH SHIT NOW IM GAY?? :’) and then Jack bursts in and he’s like oh i was late which one of you are the doctor- :’) 

Asylum of the Daleks except Eleven literally takes Dalek Oswin with him? and news spreads among the universe? the doctor and a dalek> traveling? together? it causes the biggest shOOKETH in the history of shOOKETHs? imagine landing places and peoples reactions to a fuCKING DaleK OH SHIT WE GON DIE but then woah?? a literal sassy female-sounding dalek? hi bye wtf? Yes. We stan Dalek Oswin.

Thasmin bc I need to make sure yall know deSPITE THE USERNAME I DO ACTUALLY DIE FOR THASMIN TOO YKNOW??? anyway, the house-tardis (housis) likes Yaz, bc everyone likes Yaz, have you met her? she’s precious? we love? anyway the housis takes Yaz to the Doctor bc Yaz is lowkey begging bc she needs to save her- she doesn’t know what happens but- she hopes and- anyway the housis takes her to prison and yeet Yaz is a badass and breaks her out? Thirteen is like woAH im gay af when Yaz deadass throws a guard over her shoulder or smth and she’s like I DONT APPROVE OF TH E VIOLEN C E but she’s also gay crisis af :’) we just have lots of prison break alternatives in this church

Can i throw in another broadchurch crossover? I like these... The Master escapes the Kasaavin realm and ends up in Broadchurch? He’s bare confused why everyone looks like the doctor or his/her/their human pets :’) he lowkey does double takes every two seconds. without a tardis he’s forced to live as a human for a bit, while trying to contact the doctor, bc as much as he doesnt wanna admit it, he needs her to give him a lift to his tardis lmao- anyway she eventually turns up and idk , everything falls to shit bc the general public are so confused bc now there’s two beths :’)

the fam end up in petes world after a shitshow in the votex :’) maybe someone crashes into them (lol probably the master being a bish) and yep. thirteen is like o shit nope i cant do this- but the fam wanna explore, so she can’t refuse. and ofc, cliche af but oFC THEY RUN INTO ROSE? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WE NEED BLONDE BABIES TOGETHER THANKS? maybe thirteen is trying to pretend to be normal and human and its a disaster and the fam are confused but play along, maybe they’re dragged into an alien issue and its all running and shit? maybe meta doc is dead? maybe thirteen wants to tell rose who she is so bad but? she cant? things are so different now? she’s changed so much> she’s scared? jkhflkjhg precious- but yeah take it as you wANT YO

the fam meeting missy. you can set missy pre-dhawan, post-dhawan, I’m not bothered? personally I really like post-dhawan but it’s fine. the fam are like oo whose this aND IT DOESNT CONNECT THEY’RE THE MASTER BC MISSY IS A NORMAL NAME SO THEY DONT THINK- but then it comes to light and they’re like HYJKFGUIGFDSLUHGSUHL maybe they’re angry and confrontational, maybe they’re defensive and shook?? i dunno but missy and fam are the dream squad thanks-

same as last time, this has lots of typos and gramatical errors, shit punctuation and half the time i forgot to capatalize... BUT i lowkey have a big ass bandage around a finger on my left hand and its hard to type- (i was a numpty and cut a bit off my finger at work) SO YEAH I HAVE AN EXCUSE- ?? haha jokes im just a mess... but yeah I’ll fix this post up evenbtually...