#“Flakes-and-Lakes-II”

[i2-xmf]

[not-neverland06]

How About A Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII

Series Masterlist

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I see a lot of comments talking about how you guys wished they would just communicate. They are communicating its just that neither of them know what they want. Summary: All you want is to just be clean. He offers to show you a nice little spot where you can finally scrape the grime off of you. What could go wrong?

“So,” you shifted your bag further up your arm. You were favoring the left today on account of the giant gap he had left in your right bicep. You were still pretty pissed off about that. “Do you ever, you know, bathe?”

He looked over his shoulder at you, he seemed caught off guard by the question. “Bathe?” He repeated, face raised in surprise.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, “Yeah, bathe. I’ve been out here over a week. I’ve got about twenty layers of blood and sand stuck in every crevice.” Your skin crawled thinking about the different types of bodily fluid you’d been sprayed with since coming out of the cryo pod. 

There was a lot of blood, of course, but Hollywood doesn’t show everything that gets excreted in death. You were itching for a good shower. You know that’s out of the question, but there’s got to be something. 

He laughed and ripped off a piece of jerky. He offered you some, grinning when you shook your head. “Buckle up, sweetheart, you’re in for a rude awakening. You can always use the water, but that’s a waste of Radaway if you ask me.” You should have known. It’s not like anyone you’d encountered seemed particularly gung ho about personal hygiene, but you had hoped there would be something. 

You reached down, digging your nails into your arm and scratching off flakes of blood and who knows what else. You shouldn’t have bothered, though, it only made the rest of you feel a hundred times worse. You looked crazy, scratching at yourself like a dog but you couldn’t help it. 

“Alright, damn, I’ll give you some of my Radaway, you look half rabid.”

You stopped with your scratching and stared at him in shock. “You’ll give me some of your Radaway?”

He rolled his eyes, stopping only when he noticed you’d quit walking. “Is that not what I said?”

You crossed your arms and glared at him, “You’re not exactly known for your generosity. What’s the catch?”

He frowned and clutched at his chest like you’d actually done damage, “Now, that hurts darling. I’m just trying to help you out.” He turned around, walking to the right now, further towards greenery and away from the desert. “Plus, it’ll get rid of that fucking smell.”

You kept your mouth shut but he was one to talk. He hadn’t exactly tasted wonderful when he’d kissed you. Nor did he smell amazing. Still, he had made your heart race and it wasn’t from pure terror for once. Though, any positive feelings he’d caused within you had been negated the second he dropped you to the dirt like a used up toy. 

You knew better than to try and bring it up to him, but it had stung. Attacked that vulnerable part of you that made you want to put up walls so high even the sun couldn’t get through. 

With no other choice you sped up and caught up to him. Your hip was still bothering you, but it wasn’t dragging behind you as much as it was a few days ago. The only thing really bugging you now was your throbbing arm. He’d assured you that it couldn’t rot, he’d dealt with that, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch. 

“Through here is a lake you can use.” He pointed towards the area where the trees started to thin out. 

You looked at him skeptically, “You’re really letting me do this?”

He scoffed and glared at you, “The fuck did I tell you?” You don’t know if he’s talking about his new rule to stop questioning him or about giving you the Radaway, but you keep your mouth shut anyway. He hasn’t been as much of a dick today and you’d rather keep it that way. 

“Here,” he motions through the trees and you stumble into an abandoned neighborhood. It’s been submerged in water, you can spot some old apartment buildings peeking up through the top. 

Briefly, you wonder if you’ve ever passed your old home and just never realized it. You dismiss the thought as quickly as it comes, not willing to let your mind linger on thoughts like that today. 

You slowly make your way to the water, still not entirely trusting of his intentions. He’s made it clear he’s keeping you around for the long haul, but that doesn’t mean he’s stopped tormenting you. “You’re really gonna let me use your Radaway?” You call over your shoulder. 

He sighs and leans against the trunk of a tree. “Get your ass in the water, I won’t wait around all day. 

You’re not dumb enough to fully submerge yourself in radiated water. You just rip a piece of your shirt off and dunk it into the startlingly blue lake. You use it to scrub yourself down, rubbing your arms until they’re raw and feel clean enough. 

You shuffle closer to the water, trying to bend over enough to scrub your face a bit. But when you gaze down into the water you find something gazing back up at you. You scream, scrambling back just as that thing leaps out of the water and towards you. 

Something pink and wet slams into your chest and knocks the air out of your lungs. You grope blindly in the mud for your gun as it opens its mouth. Horror and disgust fill you when you see what’s in its mouth, human fingers dangle like disgusting uvulas. It darts forward, jaw posed to clamp around your whole face. 

A loud bang echoes through the lake. The thing goes flying back and causes ripples to drift across the surface of the water. You clutch your chest, trying to get your breath back and scoot closer to get a better look at whatever attacked you. It’s the size of your torso and looks startling like some deformed axolotl. He’s left a large bullet hole in the middle of it’s head deformed head.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, shakily getting to your feet and groaning when you realize whatever you’d manage to clean off had been replaced by a thick layer of mud. 

You turn around, hoping for some sort of explanation from him, but he’s just bent over laughing, gun still smoking. You grab your bag out of the muck with a huff and glare at him. “Really?”

He straightens up, still grinning and shakes his head. “You should have seen your face, you were petrified.”

”Well, I’m glad someone enjoyed that.” You glare down at the corpse, eyes wide with horror, “It’s got fucking fingers in it’s throat. Human fingers!” He saunters over to you, entirely too pleased with himself. He grabs his inhaler out of his bag and loads it with Radaway. He tosses it over to you and you catch it with your good arm. “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” You press down and take in a deep breath, ignoring how bitter the juice tastes. 

“Never trust anything, rule number one of the Wastelands darling. Can’t even trust the water.” There was a loud roar off towards the middle of the lake and he nodded his head back towards the tree line. “Come on, that one was just a baby Gulper. Momma’s gonna be by soon and I can’t imagine she’ll be real happy.” He walks off without you and you’re stuck staring at the dead mutant. 

“That was a fucking baby?” He laughs at you again and when you catch up with him, you can't help but laugh a little yourself. You probably looked ridiculous, wrestling in the mud with what, apparently, was only an infant. 

He grins at you, “You got a lot to learn.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I know.”

He’s kneeled down beside you, fingers prodding at the reddened area around your wound. It feels a bit better now, more like touching a fresh bruise rather than raw nerves. He poured some water from his canteen over the area and retied the bandage. He stood up and moved away from you while you dug around in your bag for another ration bar. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You’ve got the bar positioned between your knees, and you’re trying, hopelessly, to open it up with one hand. Your fingers, now dusted with dried mud, slip uselessly against the packaging. 

He looks up at you and lets out a loud sigh. “Give it here.”

”I’ve got it-”

“Give. It. Here.” You huff but toss the bar over to him. He rips it open in one smooth move and throws it back to you. You catch it with your good hand and take a large chunk out of it. It feels like rubber and tastes oddly like dried out meatloaf. You’re not exactly sure what flavor it’s supposed to be replicating, but you figure it’s so old it doesn’t really matter as long as it fills you up. 

He pours some water from his canteen onto a ripped piece of cloth and tosses it at you. You’re unprepared, bar in hand and midchew, it slaps against your face and you scowl under the fabric. “Really?” You mutter, mouth half full. You yank it off your face and give him a questioning look. 

“Just clean yourself up.” 

You drag it across your face and arms, trying to get off as much residual mud as you can. Your clothes are a stained, lost cause, but this will do for now. Not like you’re going to get much better without going up against some mutant monster. 

“You’re being nice today?” It comes out like a question more than anything. Probably because you’re having trouble trusting him, especially after the Gulper incident. You wished you could say you can’t believe he would do something like that, but you’re pretty sure he’d been hoping the mom would get you, not the baby. 

He shrugged and leaned back against a fallen log. “Feelin’ chivalrous.”

You hummed but didn’t push. You forced down another lump of your ration and reached for your water. “Where are we heading anyway? Been walking for a long time but we haven’t seem to have gotten anywhere.”

“There’s a compound I took a bounty for. We’re on our way to deliver it.”

You tilted your head as far back as you could, tongue out and hoping to catch the remaining drops of your water. “Shit,” you tossed the canteen back in your bag, already knowing it was hopeless. 

“Ah, hell,” you glanced up and saw Cooper rifling through his supply box. 

“How are you on Radaway?”

He sighed and chucked the box back into his bag. “Got two vials left.” He ran his tongue along his teeth, a pensive expression on his face. 

You sighed and rubbed idly at some mud left on your fingers. “You’re gonna need more soon.”

He cut you off with a sharp laugh. “Faster than soon, this is the diluted shit.” He rubbed at his chest and you wondered if he was already starting to feel the effects of being so low on the medicine. You can’t believe he gave you a vial of his own with so few left. 

Bastard must’ve really wanted to see you get jumped by a gulper. Your face twisted up in distaste and any twinge of sympathy you’d felt for him dissapeared. You wished he would cough so hard he’d choke on his tongue, at least then you wouldn’t have to listen to his bullshit anymore. 

He looked over at you and then your bag. “Got any of that purified water left?” You shook your head, crumpling the wrapper of your bar up and tossing it somewhere behind you, 

“Just ran out, not sure where I’m gonna find more.”

He chuckled and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I do,” you stood up and grabbed your own bag, following behind him. 

Loud laughter and rowdy conversation drifts into the night air. You sit perched behind a large boulder, staring into the building across from you. It’s an old supermarket, refurbished to fit the Wastelanders' needs. “They’ll have what we need?”

He doesn’t look at you, his sight is dead set on the men milling about in front of you. They’re clearly guards, switching positions every couple of minutes and loaded to the teeth with weapons. Cooper silently tracks them, eyes darting between them as they switch positions yet again. 

“Yep,” he lifts up into a squat and watches as one of the men turns his back to lace up his boot. “Now!” He grabs you by the sleeve of your jacket and drags you along as he weaves between the guards. He throws you in front of him, practically tossing you inside the store. 

You hold back your gasp of shock and duck behind a waist-high shelf. There are only seven or eight men walking around inside. They’ve got a fire burning in the middle of the store, the empty shelves pushed back against the walls. Behind them is about the largest pile of supplies you’ve seen since being up here. They could give Ma June a run for her money. 

You peek your head over the shelf and try to get a look at just how many weapons they have. You hear the familiar sound of spurs walking behind you and twist immediately to see Cooper walking calmly towards the group with his hands raised in surrender. He catches your eye and winks before he fully addresses them. 

“Gentlemen!” You sigh and sink back against the shelf, an irritated look on your face. The shelf screeched forward slightly and you scrambled off it, you caught Cooper twitch a little in irritation but he didn’t say anything. He’s been fully noticed at this point, the others all glaring at him with their guns raised. 

He had a full view of all eight men from his perspective. What he couldn’t see, which you could, was a ninth man sneaking up behind him with a knife. He had it poised, aiming to strike right through the back of Cooper’s neck. 

Without thinking too much on it, you leapt out of your hiding spot and used your good arm to point your gun in the man’s face. He came to a stop almost cartoonishly, eyes wide and the knife in his hands trembling when you popped out. 

Cooper barely gave you a glance out of the side of his eye and you figured he knew all about the ninth man. He must have been testing you, see if you really had his back. “Hey!”

“Who the fuck is she!”

“What are you doing here?”

You ignored the sounds of their voices, you kept the gun trained on the boy and motioned him towards the left of the room. He followed, letting you guide him backwards until he was scrambling to hide behind his friends. It’s then that you finally got a good look at just how many guns were trained on you. 

One of them pumped their shotgun and you pulled back the hammer of your gun. Cooper’s guns were still tucked away in their holster, it was just you and however much firepower they could cram between ten pairs of hands. 

“Now, I suggest that you gentlemen put those guns down or my friend here is gonna get a little too friendly with her trigger.”

One of them scoffed, gesturing with the barrel of their pistol towards your right arm hanging limply by your side. “She got a bad arm and a shaking hand.”

“Maybe,” you call out, “but I got a working finger. I only need one of ‘em to kill you.”

Before he can respond there’s another one stepping forward. “She can get real friendly with me.” He’s got a lecherous grin on his face and a look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. You sigh, sick of the men up here being so predictable, and turn your gun on him. His eyes widen, like he hadn’t seen you pointing it at his friends, and you pull the trigger. 

Your aim is a little off and the recoil is harder to handle with only one hand available to you, but you’ve got a sawed off shotgun in your hand, don’t have to have a great aim to kill a man with that. His twitching body has barely hit the ground before you’re diving to the right and ducking behind a shelving unit. 

Cooper goes to the left, eyes wide in the same astonishment as those men. Bullets started flying the second their friend was on the ground. They were shouting all sorts of insults and threats at you but it was hard to make out over all the shooting.

“You shot him!” Cooper shouted over the hail fire of bullets.

You rolled your eyes and did your best to reload the gun with your wobbly hand. “He pissed me off,” you shouted back at him. You leveled the gun over the top of the shelves and fired blindly. There was a loud yelp and then another Bitch shouted at you, so you must have hit something. 

“You know, I was trying to handle this civilly,” Cooper jumped to his knees and turned around quickly. He fired off a quick succession of shots, four bodies dropped as he did. The rate of gunfire slowed a bit as more men fell. He ducked down and ran across the room, throwing himself down next to you. He tossed his guns at you and tugged yours out of your hand. “Reload me,” you nodded and tugged some bullets out of his bandolier while he used your gun to shoot at them. 

“I’m sure you handling it civilly would have ended the exact same fucking way.”

He grinned and sat back next to you, “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe. Maybe not, doesn’t matter now.” You handed him his reloaded guns and he dropped yours in your lap. “Only a few left, use the shelves as cover and circle around behind ‘em.” He didn’t stay to make sure you understood his plan, he immediately set off, drawing the fire away from you and making a run for it. 

“Shit,” you hissed, struggling to your feet and following his instructions. With only a few of them left it should have been quick work to get rid of the last few stragglers, but the guards from outside had heard the scuffle and were rushing in. Cooper shot most of them but one got close enough to snatch his gun from his hands and throw it to the floor. 

Cooper struggled against the man, his towering form easily overpowering Cooper. Though, your friend didn’t seem particularly worried, if anything it looked like he was letting the man live to draw out the fight, like he was enjoying it. 

You were going to just leave him to it when you saw the same bastard from before with the knife sneaking up behind him again. You rush forward, scooping up Cooper’s gun as you go and shove the man backwards. 

He grunts at the impact but he refused to be deterred. He charges at you, eyes red with rage and blackened mouth frothing like a rabid dog. You try and keep your guard up but you’ve got a gimp leg and a useless arm, it’s not a fight you’re going to win. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and yanks you into him. You grunt, breathing out slowly as you feel his knife slide into your gut. You glance down at the rusted blade and shove your gun under his chin. His eyes widen when you draw the hammer back but you don’t flinch when you pull the trigger, not even when chunks of skull and hair start raining down on you. 

Cooper must have finally noticed the tussle happening behind him because he draws his second gun out from under his coat and ends his little fight with the last of them. You must be in shock, you still haven’t fully experienced the pain that you should. 

There’s a knife sunk past the handle slammed into your gut, you should be feeling something shouldn’t you? You’re sure it’s the adrenaline still pumping through you. Your body is warm from how fast your blood is pumping, your ears ringing from all the gunshots and head spinning from the amount of blood steadily leaking out of the wound. 

“Hey,” you turn around to face him and his eyes widen ever so slightly. You lose your footing and he darts forward, quick arms grab you and draw you into his chest. You clutch onto the sleeve of his jacket, letting all of your weight rest on him while you try and get your panicked breathing under control. 

You’ve had worse injuries than this. As hard as it is to believe, in your time up here, you’ve survived a lot worse than some measly stab wound. 

So why does this feel so fucking bad?

“Oh,” you moan in pain, nearly doubling over. A feeling like a million exposed nerves being set on fire stops you from falling to the floor, instead you push off Cooper and struggle to your feet. 

“Alright, come on,” he grabs your arm again and you have the ridiculous urge to just shove him off you. Your head is swimming,  you feel like you could float away. You look down at the knife again and finally realize just how large it is. One of those hunting ones that was about the width of your hand curled into a fist. 

Well, fuck.

“Hey,” he snaps when you stumble away from him again. “Sit your stubborn ass down, you need help.” He yanks on the straps of your shirt, holding you up and dragging you to a chair, you don’t have much choice as he forces you to sit. Though, the motion causes a wave of excruciating pain to flare through you. 

He kneels in front of you and rips your shirt open, you’re in too much pain to complain about it right now. He hums low in the back of his throat as he takes in the wound. With no warning whatsoever he grabs the knife by the handle and yanks it out like he’s ripping off a fucking bandaid. 

You nearly scream, lurching forward and shoving him away from you. The sudden shock of pain has left you half blind and panting like an animal. “What the fuck was that?” You force out through gritted teeth. He plants a hand on your shoulder and presses you firmly against the back of the chair. 

“Need to get you a Stimpak.” He takes your hand in his and presses it against the wound. Where blood was once oozing, it’s now gushing. You hadn’t realized just how much keeping the knife in had kept the blood at bay. With how rapidly it’s leaving you now you’re afraid. 

You’re afraid that you might not be able to make it back from the edge with just a Stimpak. You can already feel your fingers going cold, pretty soon you won’t be able to flex them and then you’d lose feeling in your arms too. 

“Hey,” he uses the grip he has on your hand to press down on the wound. You groan but he keeps the pressure steady. His eyes bore into your dazed ones, some odd expression in them. “You don’t get to give up. Keep pressure on this, understand me?” Your head flops forward in a lazy nod. 

He could have been gone for a minute or an hour, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Your head is foggy, coherent thoughts replaced by loopy ones. You’re struggling to remember where you are or what you’re supposed to be doing. 

Just as your hand slips from the wound, he comes back. He grabs your hand and places it back, holding it there with his own. You appreciate the way he warms your fingers back up, but the rest of you is freezing too. Maybe he’d share his jacket. 

The thought of him sharing anything makes you laugh and he gives you a frustrated look. “Don’t go losing it on me. Not yet at least.”

You lean forward, face nearly pressed against his and grin. “You know, I haven’t heard a thank you yet.”

He scoffed, opening the Stimpak with one hand and preparing the injector. “Yeah, for what?”

“Saving your life, dick.”

You’re caught off guard when he slams the needle into your stomach, your lips part with a silent gasp and you wince at the cool rush of medicine. He grins at you, “Well, thank you for being the only dumbass to get herself stabbed in a gun fight.”

The medicine works fast, you learned that from when he’d shot you. You can already start to feel the pulse of blood slowing and your head clearing up slightly. “Asshole,” you hiss, leaning away from him. But his eyes stay trained on you, on both of your blood covered hands and where they still rest, linked together, on your stomach. 

You find yourself taking advantage of his distraction to really look at him. It bothers you, how after everything, his eyes are still so pretty. It’s the first thing that drew your attention when you were younger. Those eyes of his had you swooning from the first time you saw him on the big screen. 

He catches you but you can’t find it in yourself to care. There’s something odd in the air, a lingering tension from the kiss you’d never discussed. From the silent partnership you’d never voiced. You’d nearly gotten yourself killed for him tonight, the thought finally seemed to be dawning on him. 

His eyes drop to your lips and he leans in. He doesn’t get very far, lips just barely brushing yours before you’re jerking back in surprise. You’re bleeding out in his hands and he kisses you? Your hand is up and cracking across his cheek before you can think about it. 

His head whips to the side with a satisfying crack. He lets out a breathy chuckle, using his free hand to soothe the area you’d hit. He stretches the tension out of his jaw and shakes his head before he looks at you again. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed you. You definitely shouldn’t be further entertaining his ideas that he holds any sort of possession for you, but you’d just realized what that look in his eyes had been earlier. He had been worried about you. 

Cooper has always been the one who protected you. Not the other way around. And as twisted as he’d become, it still relatively remained the same dynamic today. You’d caught him off guard earlier, putting yourself in danger like that for him. And he had been worried about you. 

You grab him by the collar of his jacket and drag him forward before he can decide what to do with the fact that you slapped him. Your lips meet again and he hovers over you on your chair. The hand on your stomach pushes harder against you, deepening the pressure and making you groan into his mouth. 

He doesn’t waste time, deepening the kiss and letting his other bloodied hand drift into your hair. His fingers curl around the strands and he yanks your neck back, manipulating you how he wants and bending you to his desires. You melt into it, into the complete control you allow him to momentarily wield over you. 

You let your mind go blank and just focus on him. You can pretend, for now, that you’re in his old house. You’re coming back after a date at one of those fancy restaurants that he hates, but he takes you there anyway so you can have an excuse to dress up. 

He’ll whisper I love you and drag you to the couch. You’ll start there, his kisses traveling lower until he’s dragging you back to his bedroom. You’ll feel valued, cherished, loved. Cooper will take care of you. 

He parts slowly from you, still keeping a firm grip on your hair. It takes a moment for your eyes to flutter open again. You’re sure you look like a mess, staring up at him with glossy eyes and swollen lips, completely drenched in your own blood. 

“Don’t think about him when I’m the one kissing you, darling.” Your eyes widen and he lets you go. He shoves back from you and paces towards his bag. Any warmth in his eyes, any care, was gone. 

You want to say something to drag him back but the moment has passed. It’s not like he was wrong, you were pretending he was someone completely different to make yourself feel better. 

But you couldn’t make yourself feel guilty when you remembered half the reason you needed the comfort was because of who he was now. He comes back with a needle and thread. He lets the needle hover over the men’s fire for a moment before he approaches you with it. “Stimpak will only do so much, need to sew you up.”

You nodded and looked away as he knelt down and pressed the needle into your skin. You barely felt it,  could barely pay attention to him when your thoughts were on what it was like before. What he was like before. Sometimes it makes you sick to your stomach to look at him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[xtruss]

Tina Cordova and her mother, Rosalie, relax at Bonito Lake, New Mexico, in 1960. Cordova says the lake—which lies within the estimated radioactive fallout zone—was a water source for area towns, including Carrizozo, Alamogordo, and Ruidoso. Courtesy of Anastacio and Rosalie Cordova

U.S. Lawmakers Move Urgently to Recognize Survivors of the First Atomic Bomb Test

The 1945 Trinity test produced heat 10,000 times greater than the surface of the sun and spread fallout across the country.

— By Lesley M.M. Blume | Published September 21, 2021 | July 29th, 2023

Barbara Kent joined Carmadean’s dance camp in the desert near Ruidoso, New Mexico, in the summer of 1945. During the day, she and nine other girls learned tap and ballet. At night, they slept in a cabin by a river. Early in the morning on July 16, 1945, Kent says that she —then 13—and the other campers were jolted out of their bunk beds by what felt like an enormous explosion nearby. Their dance instructor rushed the girls outside, worried that a heater on the premises might have burst.

“We were all just shocked … and then, all of a sudden, there was this big cloud overhead, and lights in the sky,” Kent recalls. “It even hurt our eyes when we looked up. The whole sky turned strange. It was as if the sun came out tremendous.”

A few hours later, she says, white flakes began to fall from above. Excited, the girls put on their bathing suits and, amid the flurries, began playing in the river. “We were grabbing all of this white, which we thought was snow, and we were putting it all over our faces,” Kent says. “But the strange thing, instead of being cold like snow, it was hot. And we all thought, ‘Well, the reason it’s hot is because it’s summer.’ We were just 13 years old.”

Thirteen-year-old Barbara Kent (center) and her fellow campers play in a river near Ruidoso, New Mexico, on July 16, 1945, in the hours after the bomb’s detonation. Fallout flakes drifted down that day and for days afterward. “We thought [it] was snow," Kent says. “But the strange thing, instead of being cold like snow, it was hot." Courtesy of Barbara Kent

The flakes were fallout from the Manhattan Project’s Trinity test, the world’s first atomic bomb detonation. It took place at 5:29 a.m. local time atop a hundred-foot steel tower 40 miles away at the Alamogordo Bombing and Gunnery Range, in Jornada del Muerto valley.

The site had been selected in part for its supposed isolation. In reality, thousands of people were within a 40-mile radius, some as close as 12 miles away. Yet all those living near the bomb site weren't warned that the test would take place. Nor were they evacuated beforehand or afterward, even as radioactive fallout continued to drop for days.

The Trinity test took place at 5:29 a.m. local time on July 16, 1945. It was three to five times more powerful than its creators had anticipated, producing heat 10,000 times greater than the surface of the sun. The explosion cloud may have reached a height of 70,000 feet. Photograph By Science History Images/ Alamy

In 1990, the U.S. Congress passed the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act (RECA), which has since dispensed over two billion dollars to more than 45,000 nuclear workers and “downwinders”—a term describing people who have lived near nuclear test sites conducted since World War II and may have been exposed to deadly radioactive fallout.

But those exposed during the Trinity test and its aftermath have never been eligible.

For years, Senator Ben Ray Lujan, a Democrat from New Mexico, and other members of Congress have attempted to amend RECA, due to expire on July 11, 2022. In light of this looming deadline, on September 22, Lujan, along with Senator Mike Crapo, Republican of Idaho, and eight co-sponsors introduced Senate bill S. 2798 to extend RECA and expand it to make those in the estimated Trinity fallout zone eligible, as well as other downwinder communities in Colorado, Idaho, and Montana. The proposed legislation also would expand eligibility for people who have worked in uranium mines and mills or transported uranium ore. Also on September 22, Representative Teresa Leger Fernandez and 15 co-sponsors introduced a similar bill, H.R. 5338, in the House.

The plutonium bomb—nicknamed the Gadget—was set atop this hundred-foot steel tower, which vaporized in the explosion. "From the Trinity test,” a 2010 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report noted, “it was learned that detonating a nuclear explosive device [that] close to the ground increases the radioactive fallout from the event." Photograph Via CORBIS/Getty

Manhattan Project leaders—including General Leslie Groves (center) and, to his right, physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer—scrutinize the remnants of the tower at ground zero. Upon seeing the detonation, Oppenheimer thought of a line from the Bhagavad Gita: "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds." Photograph Via CORBIS/Getty

“The fact that there had not been a recognition of the impact of the very first atomic detonation in New Mexico was really simply wrong,” says Representative Teresa Leger Fernandez, a Democrat from New Mexico and co-sponsor of the House bill. “We hear their voices, we see their pain, and we must act.”

This is an especially urgent and consequential moment for those living in Trinity’s estimated fallout zone—some of whom have been waiting 76 years to be acknowledged. “We have been denied justice long enough,” says Bernice Gutierrez, who was a newborn when the bomb exploded. Her family lived in Carrizozo, about 50 miles from the blast site. “It’s not like we haven’t given our all to our country. What more can you give?”

‘A Very Serious Hazard’

The blast from the plutonium implosion device, nicknamed the Gadget, produced heat 10,000 times greater than the surface of the sun and was significantly more powerful than its creators had expected. It carried aloft hundreds of tons of irradiated soil and sent a mushroom cloud up to 70,000 feet in the sky. In this experimental atomic detonation, only three of the 13 pounds of plutonium at the bomb’s center underwent fission. The rest dispersed in the fallout cloud.

A tiny fraction of that three pounds of plutonium—about the weight of a raisin—was enough to release “three times the destructive force of the largest conventional bomb used in World War II,” says Robert Alvarez, associate fellow at the Institute of Policy Studies and former senior policy advisor to the U.S. Secretary of Energy. (The Gadget released an explosive force equivalent to about 21,000 tons of TNT.)

Right after detonation, the cloud divided into three parts. One part drifted east, another to the west and northwest, and the rest to the northeast, across a region a hundred miles long and 30 miles wide, “dropping its trail of fission products” the entire way, according to a 2010 report by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). The fallout eventually spread over thousands of square miles and was detected as far away as Rochester, New York.

Nineteen counties in New Mexico were in the downwind area, including 78 towns and cities, and dozens of ranches and pueblos. Radiation levels near homes in some “hot spots” reached levels “almost 10,000 times what is currently allowed in public areas,” according to the CDC.

“There is still a tremendous quantity of radioactive dust floating in the air,” wrote Stafford Warren to U.S. Army General Leslie R. Groves, head of the Manhattan Project, five days after the blast. Warren, the project’s chief medical officer, added that “a very serious [radiation] hazard” existed within a 2,700-square-mile area downwind of the test.

He also advised that future atomic tests be done only where there were no people within a radius of 150 miles. (Nearly half a million people in New Mexico, Texas, and Mexico lived within a 150-mile radius of the Trinity test.)

“We didn’t know what the hell we were doing,” Louis Hempelmann—the director of the Los Alamos Health Group, a team tasked with managing radiation within the Manhattan Project—reflected in a 1986 interview uncovered by sociologist James L. Nolan, Jr., in his book Atomic Doctors. “Nobody had had any experience like this before, and we were just hoping that the situation wouldn’t get terribly sticky.”

The leaders of the Manhattan Project knew that civilians had been “probably overexposed,” Hempelmann said. “But they couldn’t prove it and we couldn’t prove it. So we just assumed that we got away with it.”

Many civilians living within the estimated fallout zone were unwittingly exposed and sickened. According to Alvarez, even minute quantities of plutonium can inflict disease. “Particles of plutonium less than a few microns in diameter can penetrate deep in the lungs and lymph nodes and can also be deposited via the bloodstream in the liver, on bone surfaces, and in other organs,” he says. “If inhaled, extremely small amounts can lead to cancer.”

How is it, asks Senator Lujan, that RECA covered people living downwind of the Nevada Test Site but left out “the community where the first nuclear bomb was tested on American soil? There’s not been a good answer given to me nor to the downwinders in New Mexico. There’s no question of the exposure that resulted from the Trinity test.”

The explosion seared the desert sand surrounding the tower into a green, glass-like substance, named Trinitite. Photograph Via Bettmann/Getty

Something Felt Terribly Awry

Several people living near the test site later reported that they thought they were experiencing the end of the world. The strange, snowlike substance that fell from the sky for days coated everything: orchards, gardens, livestock, as well as cisterns, ponds, and rivers—the main sources of drinking water because local groundwater was “unsuitable for human consumption,” according to the 2010 CDC report.

One family in Oscuro, New Mexico, about 45 miles from the site, hung wet bedsheets in their windows against the fallout. They felt that something was terribly awry when their chickens and their dog died. Thirty miles away from ground zero, along Chupadera Mesa, burns appeared on the hides of cattle, whose fur eventually grew back gray and white in the burned patches.

A health care provider in Roswell, a hundred miles away, noted a surge in infant deaths there—35 in August 1945 alone. When she wrote to Warren, stating her concerns, his medical assistant replied that there were no “pertinent data” and assured her that “the safety and health of the people at large is not in any way endangered.”

“They Lied To Us. I Didn’t Learn The Truth Until Years Later.” — BatbaraKent, Trinity Test Survivor

For General Groves, getting the bomb ready—in secrecy—for wartime use had trumped all other considerations, including public safety.

Yet he realized that a blast whose flash was seen in at least three states and two countries could not be wholly concealed. He ordered the commanding officer of the Alamogordo Air Base to feed a cover story to the Associated Press that “a remotely located ammunition magazine containing a considerable amount of high explosives and pyrotechnics exploded.” There had been, the report went on, “no loss of life or injury.” Local newspapers reprinted the announcement without challenge.

Barbara Kent recalls that the day after the explosion, her camp’s dance instructor took the girls into Ruidoso, where government officials were to make an announcement about the source of the blast.

“It was so crowded downtown—everyone was shoulder to shoulder,” Kent says. “What they told us—there was an explosion at a dump. They said, ‘No one worry about anything, everything’s fine, just go along with your own business.’ Everyone was confused. Some people believed it, but some people thought they couldn’t imagine that a dump explosion would do this." She continues: "They lied to us. I didn’t learn the truth until years later.”

As time passed, Kent says she began to hear disturbing reports that her fellow campers were falling ill. By the time she turned 30, she says, “I was the only survivor of all the girls at that camp.” She adds that she has suffered from lifelong illnesses: She had to have her thyroid removed and has survived several forms of cancer, including endometrial cancer and “all kinds of skin cancers.”

In this photograph from 1962, three-year-old Tina Cordova (bottom right) is pictured with her father, Anastacio (holding her baby brother, Matthew), and mother Rosalie. The young family lived in Tularosa, about 40 miles from the blast site. Everything they ate, Tina recalls, “was raised or grown or hunted," adding that the bomb’s “ash got everywhere, in the soil, in the water—everything was contaminated." She says her mother and father developed cancers, and she was diagnosed with thyroid cancer when she was 39. Courtesy of Anastacio and Rosalie Cordova

Tina Cordova is a fifth-generation resident of Tularosa, about 40 miles from the blast site. Thanks to an extensive ditch system in the area, the town was an oasis in the desert, and Cordova’s family’s home, like many others, had an orchard and garden.

“You could literally go out into your yard in the summer and eat peaches, apricots, cherries, figs, dates, pecans, walnuts—everything you could think of,” she says. Local people harvested and canned their fruit and collected rainwater for drinking from rooftop cisterns. Milk came from local dairies. People made their own butter and butchered farmyard animals or hunted wild animals for meat, including deer, quail, rabbit, and pheasant.

“Everything that people were consuming in 1945 was contaminated,” Cordova says. “But they didn’t know [the fallout was] dangerous. They went about their lives.”

After the test, she says, health problems began to plague her family, all of whom lived in and around Tularosa. According to Cordova, two of her great-grandfathers died of stomach cancer, and both of her grandmothers developed cancer. Two aunts had breast cancer, and one died from it. A cousin developed a brain tumor. Her mother had mouth cancer, and her sister has skin cancer. Her father, who was four at the time of the blast, suffered from various cancers, including prostate cancer and tongue cancer. Doctors had to remove part of his tongue and his lymph nodes. The cancer eventually spread to his neck and became inoperable. Cordova says he weighed about 125 pounds at his death in 2013 at the age of 71. She says that she herself was diagnosed with thyroid cancer in 1997, when she was 39.

‘When Are They Going To Hold Our Government Accountable?’

After the U.S. leveled Hiroshima with a uranium bomb on August 6, 1945, the secret history of the creation of atomic weapons was released and widely publicized. Many New Mexicans now realized that the blast that had shattered their windows and blanketed their homes in warm ash was not, after all, an ammunition dump explosion. Although they still hadn't been informed by the government about the nature of that ash or monitored for adverse health effects, they were encouraged to be proud of the part they’d unknowingly played in bringing about the dramatic new atomic age.

“When I was a child, the government fed us propaganda about how much pride we should take in the part we played in ending World War Two,” Cordova says. “We still did not know what that meant from a health consequence perspective. Our mom actually took us to the [Trinity] site for a picnic. We brought home as much Trinitite as we could and played with it.” (The Trinity Site is now a National Historic Landmark, open to visitors twice a year, and anyone can go online and buy radioactive fragments of Trinitite—a green glass created from sand and other materials that melted in the immediate blast zone.)

The U.S. Army erected this monument at ground zero in 1965. Ten years later, the National Park Service designated Trinity Site as a National Historic Landmark. It’s open to visitors twice a year, on the first Saturdays in April and October. Photograph By Tony Korody, SYGMA Via Getty

In 2004, Cordova read a letter from another Tularosa resident, Fred Tyler, to the editor of a local newspaper. She says that the letter changed her life. “He said, ‘When are they going to hold our government accountable for the damage they did to us?’ ” Cordova says. “I called him and said, ‘I feel the same way you do. It’s time to start an organization to more fully push the government about this issue.’ ”

In 2005, Cordova and Tyler founded the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium (TBDC) as an advocacy organization for Trinity test downwinders.

At that time, she recalls, they weren’t aware that the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act had been in place for 15 years and already had provided onetime, $50,000 compensation to other downwinders who “may have developed cancer or other specified diseases after being exposed to radiation from atomic weapons testing or uranium mining, milling, or transporting.” Downwinder eligibility initially was limited to those within specified areas around the Nevada Test Site, 65 miles north of Las Vegas, where a hundred aboveground tests were conducted before a moratorium on atomic testing took effect in 1992.

In 2000, an amendment to RECA expanded eligibility to include some uranium miners and millers in New Mexico. Military and government workers who were “on-site participants” in the Trinity test were also eligible for compensation, but civilian downwinders remained ineligible.

Cordova, like Senator Lujan, says she has “never been able to get a straight answer” about why civilian downwinders were excluded from the legislation: “Even from people who were serving in Congress at the time, I’ve been told, ‘Well, no one was connecting the dots that anybody was harmed.’ ”

Bill Richardson—a Democrat who served as New Mexico’s governor from 2003 to 2011 and was a representative for the state’s Third Congressional District in 1990 when RECA was enacted—says, “I don’t think there was opposition [to their inclusion], just perhaps a lack of awareness. I didn’t know about their claims until I started reading about it when I was governor, and I was sympathetic.”

To raise awareness, Cordova and her colleagues at the consortium began to gather testimonies from and distribute health surveys to downwinders who were alive at the time of the Trinity test, along with their descendants who have lived in areas surrounding the test site. To date, the consortium has collected more than 1,000 surveys, and Cordova says that 100 percent of those questioned describe adverse health conditions—from thyroid disease to brain cancer—that can result from radiation exposure. Often participants describe similar cancers that have ravaged many family members over several generations.

‘A Now-or-Never Moment’

Cordova describes this effort to extend and expand RECA as a “now-or-never moment.” Senator Mike Crapo, an Idaho Republican and co-sponsor of the Senate bill, says there’s a “dire need for Congress to extend RECA … [and] to include victims in states across the West.”

“It is beyond time for the federal government to right a past wrong that caused harm to countless innocent Americans,” he wrote in a letter on March 24, 2021, to the chairman and members of the House Judiciary Committee.

“We Hear Their Voices, We See Their Pain, and We Must Act.” — TeresaLeger Fernandez, Representative to Congress, New Mexico

“When [RECA] was first introduced, no one considered the impact on the first downwinders,” Representative Fernandez says. “But we are in a place now where we recognize an injustice when we see it.” Her family lived in San Miguel and Guadalupe Counties in New Mexico, areas of potential exposure. She says her mother and sister—both nonsmokers—died of lung cancer. Her father died of esophageal cancer, she says, and her grandmother, who grew up near the Trinity site, died of leukemia.

Fernandez and Lujan say they’re also going to push for new epidemiological and environmental studies of the Trinity test’s aftermath and possible long-term effects.

Assessing Trinity’s exact “fingerprint” based on current fallout levels is “complicated and subject to large uncertainties,” says health physicist Joseph Shonka, co-author of the 2010 CDC report. He notes that residents of New Mexico have higher positive plutonium levels in their tissues than residents of any other state but says that tracing those levels back specifically to Trinity fallout might be difficult.

New Mexicans also may have internalized plutonium from various additional sources, he says, including general global fallout, releases from New Mexico’s Los Alamos plutonium operations, and fallout that drifted down from Nevada’s Test Site. The CDC recommended prioritizing Trinity’s aftermath for future studies.

Last year, the National Cancer Institute (NCI) released its findings from a nearly seven-year study of the Trinity nuclear test. The study’s lead investigator, Steven Simon, calls it the “most comprehensive study conducted on the Trinity test and its possible ramifications for cancer risks in the estimated fallout area.”

The researchers concluded that up to a thousand people may have developed cancer from the Trinity test fallout and that “only small geographic areas immediately downwind to the northeast received exposures of any significance.” They also said that the “plutonium deposited as a result of the Trinity test was unlikely to have resulted in significant health risks to the downwind population.”

The researchers also acknowledged their study’s limitations. Calculating exposure for those alive at the time of the detonation is “complex and is subject to uncertainties,” Simon explains, “because all of the needed data is not available."

Shonka says the new NCI study “failed to address early fallout adequately.” He says he questions some of the methodology and is preparing a counter-article addressing what he says are inconsistencies with previous findings. Other critics of the NCI study say it doesn’t address ongoing family cancer clusters and the reported 1945 spike in infant deaths in the region, documented in a 2019 paper in the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, co-authored by Robert Alvarez.

The NCI responds that its researchers focused on exposures received among “New Mexico residents alive at the time of the test,” and that they didn’t investigate the infant mortality because it was “not a cancer effect.”

Senator Lujan calls the NCI study “limited” and says that he wants to “make sure that there’s accurate data that truly is looking at the exposure that families face.”

“How can someone say that families in proximity to a nuclear blast were not exposed?” he asks. “It goes against everything that I’ve learned and data sets that I’ve seen from different parts of the world where this has happened, whether it’s been from meltdown of nuclear energy generation facilities or where weapons were deployed.”

Lujan continues, “People died as a result of the Trinity test—that’s a fact. People are still suffering—that’s a fact. The U.S. needs to come forward to address this liability, this wrong.”

Cordova says she and her community will be closely watching the RECA bills’ progress. The new legislation asks to expand compensation for individuals from $50,000 to $150,000. But beyond financial restitution, Cordova says, they’re also hoping simply for a government apology.

“We’ve never had an opportunity to live normal lives,” she says. “They can never say that they didn’t know ahead of time that radiation was harmful or that there was going to be fallout. We don’t ask if we’re going to get cancer; we ask when it’s going to be our turn. We are the forgotten collateral damage.”

— Lesley M. M. Blume is a New York Times best-selling historian, journalist, and author of Fallout: The Hiroshima Cover-up and the Reporter Who Revealed It to the World.

[tiredmamaissy]

Non-Unrequited Love

Non-Unrequited Love: Part I

Read Part II, Part III & Special Ep. I here. (Links are also below)

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Lo’ak (18) x Omatikaya Reader (18)

Warnings: Slight NSFW, cursing, lots of fluff, lo'ak in rut

Word count: 3.6k

Authors Note: This series is really a continuation of one event. It has a slow start, but nearing the middle and end it gets pretty steamy.

Synopsis: You and lo'ak have been friends all your life. Everyone knows that you like each other, except the two of you. Fed up with him flaking on you constantly, you follow him one day and find out he's in rut. Now your alone with the love of your life, on a secluded island, whilst he's in rut.

Intro:

Lo’ak experienced his first rut at the early age of 17. He chose to endure his rut alone, until the girl of his dreams (y/n) had chosen him as a mate. It was rather painful and lasted much longer than normal – 3 entire days. His only form of release was himself. His father brought him to a secluded island, near to hometree, where he could go and endure his rut alone.

He’s had feelings for you since you guys were in your early teens. You two did everything together. You’ve tamed your ikrans together, learned how to use a bow and arrow together, and even got in trouble together. You two were inseparable and knew everything about each other. Nothing could pull you guys apart, and everyone around you knew that you were destined mates. However, you have also been waiting for him to choose you as a mate.

Despite the continual encouragement from his older brother, Neteyam, telling him to express his feelings to you, he still chose to wait. Thus, he has spent the last three, very painful ruts on his own. He had gotten used to the feeling and learned ways on how to cope with it. He would start by taking a bath in the lake, eat some grub, and embark on his, several, intense self-love-making sessions.

Coincidentally, every time his rut came around, there would be some sort of special event that he would have flake for. Outside of these special events, he deemed himself as a reliable companion. His first rut came on your birthday. The day of, Neteyam came to you and explained that he was extremely sick and needed to rest.

The second time around, he had promised to go with you on your first real hunting trip together. You waited on him for 2 hours at the meeting spot, before giving up and going back home. Later, Kiri came to you and explained that Lo’ak got in trouble for stealing his father’s assault rifle and that he was grounded for a few days. Seemed believable enough.

On his third rut, he promised to take you to the hallelujah mountains to a hidden spot his parents showed him when he was younger. He said he would make it up to you there, and that he’s been wanting to confess something to you. Jake himself, told you he was sick again, and that he would make it up to you another time.

Today, it was your uniltaron (dream hunt), where you were supposed seek your spirit animal. It was important to you that he showed up to this rite of passage. When Neteyam came running to you with his tail between his legs, head hanging low, you didn’t even let him speak.

 ------------

“Y/n, I – I’m sorry. Lo’ak, h – he, he -.” Neteyam stutters, out of breath from running to meet you at the tree of souls.

“No, not another word.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “He always does this! What is this? He is supposed to be my best friend. What kind of best friend misses this?” you cry, motioning over to the ceremony.

Neteyam looks sorry for you and tries to explain. “I know, but there’s a good reason, y/n. If you would just let me explain!”

“No.” you take your small dagger out from your chest and point it in his direction. “tell me where he is! Where is this bitch hiding this time?” you shout.

“y/n... I can’t.” you step closer to him, and he steps back, looking behind him trying not to trip. “I can’t tell you!”

“Neteyam, I will pluck the eyeballs right out of your face!” at this point, he’s on the floor and you’re towering over him, like a predator trapping their prey.

“He’s on the island! Okay? The island!” his hands are in the air, covering his face.

You calm down a bit and withdraw your dragger slightly. “Which island? Where?” Neteyam looks hesitant to answer.

It seemed as if he were trying to choose whether he wanted to be maimed by his brother’s crazy mate or face the rath of the great Lo’ak. Neither seemed very appealing to him, but he’d rather take his chances with Lo’ak.

“The island right across from here. You will find him there. But y/n, he is not himself right now. He’s not the Lo’ak you know and love. You should just wait for him to come back.” Neteyam warns you.

You hiss your teeth, “Love? Pshh.” you get up in a huff, fuming with rage, and make your way to your ikran, mounting it swiftly.

“Crazy woman... they’re really made for each other.” Neteyam mumbles under his breath, shaking his head.

------------

You had been to this island once with Kiri before, to harvest some sort of rare plant that is supposedly able to relieve a third-degree burn in minutes. You and Kiri got the plant, but at the expense of almost losing a few limbs. No one is really supposed to go here, primarily because of the large population of Thanators.

You have heard of a rumor though, that there is a hidden spot, nestled deep into the jungle, where na’vi go to mate before Eywa. It’s supposedly some sort of obscure spiritual sanctuary, that only higher ranking na’vi like the Olo’eyktan, Toruk Makto, and other great warriors know about.

This didn’t stop you, though. The blinding rage that courses through your body is enough motivation to fly there just to maim Lo’ak. What was happening here that was more important than your ceremony?

Your ikran makes a large thump when you land on next to a tree on the island. You dismount her and explore your surroundings. You can recall most of the island, seeing that Kiri would not let you leave until you sourced that ridiculous plant.

With your bow and arrow in hand, you lean against the trunk of the tree next to you, “Lo’ak! I know you’re here. Come out!” You yell.

Lo’ak is hiding high in the canopy of the tree directly above you. He peers down at you, squinting his eyes to get a better look. After confirming that it is indeed you, he takes a deep breath to steady his heart rate.

Why is she here? How did she figure out where I was?

His breath steadies, and his heartrate slows. His rut was approaching any minute, and he was finding it hard to keep calm. The girl he’s loved for so long just stepped foot into a secluded island with him while in rut, what could possibly go wrong?

“Lo’ak! Come out, come out wherever you are” you taunt, just like when you were playing hide and seek as kids. You slowly load your bow with an arrow.

He studies your posture, seeing that you’re armed, and angry. He removes his dagger out of its casing and climbs down on the branch below him. He’s calculating his every move, planning out exactly how he’ll deal with you.

Just as you were about to give up and search another area, something large and heavy attacks you, pinning you to the ground. You shriek from the unexpected blow, huffing and puffing from the pressure in your chest. Your hands are trapped under your own body, and its paw is holding your head down firmly. It exhales hot air onto the back of your neck, making your ears perk up.  

A Thanator? Shit!

You go into fight or flight mode, and surprisingly for a mighty warrior like yourself, you choose flight. You know you’re no match for the jungles biggest and baddest predator. You begin to wriggle underneath it, trying to release yourself from its tight grip so you can make a run for it back to your ikran.

“You should not be here.” the Thanator speaks.

Surprised, you look behind you to see Lo’ak pinning you down, with his knife out.

“Fuck! I thought you were a fucking Thanator, Lo’ak. Great Mother. Never do that to me again.” He releases you from his grip, letting you scurry away.

“I may as well be.” He spits, through breathless pants.

You put away your bow and arrow and put your hands in the air. “You too.” you look wide eyed at the dagger in his hand. He carefully places it back into its casing.

“Why are you here?” he says in a cold voice. It stung to hear the man you secretly loved didn’t want you here.

“Why are you here?” you ask back, crossing your arms over your breasts.

He looks down, and takes note of the placement of your hands, staring a little too long. He looks back up at you, with emerald, green eyes, “I’m trying to protect something very valuable to me. But it’s not working out how I planned.”

You take interest in the sudden change of his eye colour, but you find what he just said more interesting. Intrigued, you ask “Protecting what? If it that valuable to lock yourself away on an island, you could have just roped me in for some help, Lo’ak.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “It is not a what, it is a who.”

“A who?” that stung even more. Who’s more valuable than his best friend? You look down, deep in thought, trying to think about who could be so valuable to him that he would miss your ceremony to protect.

He sees the sadness in your face and feels sorry for you. “It is you, y/n.”

“Me?” butterflies flutter in your stomach, “how is hiding on an island and missing one of the most important ceremonies of my life ‘protecting’ me? Protecting me from what?” you’re so confused, and ready to solve this mystery once and for all.

“From me.” He states, his pupils morph into slits and his green eyes glow even darker.

You hear his breaths become raggedy as he starts backing away from you into the darkness.

“Protect me? From you? Lo’ak...” you chase after him. 

“Y/n, go home.” He walks away from you, climbing back up the tree.

You’re not taking no for an answer this time as you’re on the verge solving this mystery. You climb up the tree behind him, getting a whiff of rain and leather hide mixed together. You look around to see if it’s raining, and to your surprise it’s not. All you can see is the bioluminescence of the flora around you.

“No, tell me Lo’ak. What is it? I’m not leaving until you tell me!”. You catch up to him and tug on his tail, “seriously Lo’ak, I thought we were close, but I guess I was wrong.” your voice lowers into a whisper.

His face grimaces, you can see the hurt in his eyes from what you just said to him. This, on top of the very little self-control he has left makes him snap at you, “I’m in rut, okay? Are you happy? You should go, I can really feel it now.”

He makes his way further up the tall tree, with you following closely behind him. “Lo’ak! Rut? You mean the thing that we learned from Mo’at about the na’vi cycles?”

“No shit, y/n.” he hisses.

“I didn’t know you got yours already, I’m still waiting for mine.” You whine, a bit jealous that he got his first.

How does this boy climb so quickly? You’re panting, at this rate.

He stops abruptly, pulling you aside onto the large branch that he’s standing on. You look at him intently, the beads of sweat on his forehead drip onto his chest, which is glowing under the night sky. Big green saucers for eyes look back at you, as he takes your hand in his.

“I have spent my last three ruts alone, on this island, by myself. Each of those ruts, I had something planned with you and had to make up an excuse so that I wouldn’t hurt you. When I’m in this state, I’m delirious, completely out of control. I have these... urges, that I can’t stop, and with the way I feel about you... I – I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself back. So, I come here, with the help of my father, and hide for the three days that it lasts.”

That was a lot to unpack. For a minute, you’re speechless, just registering and processing all that he just said to you.

How he feels about me? Urges? Three days? Doesn’t rut usually last a day, at most? You had so many questions, but nothing was coming out.

You may be a bit slow, but you are no fool. As the puzzle pieces together, it dawns on you that he has feelings for you, and to protect you from the animalistic... sexual, urges, he locks himself far away from you. How romantic.

He looks at you for a while, waiting for a response, to be met with nothing. He scoffs, drops your hand, and looks away, “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Go home, y/n.” he starts making his way towards the trunk of the tree.

“Wait!” you grab his arm and pull him towards you. “I, I – I have these feelings too, Lo’ak. I’ve had them for some time now. Every time you flaked, I felt stood up. I’ve been waiting for you to choose me, first.” you look away, shyly.

“Y/n. Are you saying that you want to be my mate?” he grips both your arms, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to be your mate, Lo’ak.” You whisper, as if other people could hear your confession.

He can’t help but smile at you, searching your eyes to see if you’re being honest. He swallows his spit, and glances down at your lips. You notice this, and glance at his lips, too. The tension in your chest is intense, it feels like knots in your heart. He inches closer and closer to you, close enough for you to hear his quick heartbeat. His lips crash into yours, hungry and inexperienced.

Not knowing what you’re doing either, you kiss him sloppily, using your tongue to explore his mouth, your teeth clinking together. Both of you reeked of desperation. All these years, you’ve looked at your relationship with him as unrequited love – a girl who settled to be his best friend. Unbeknownst to you, he’s felt the same way about you this entire time.

This is what the sky people would call ‘making out’ it seems. His tongue wraps around yours, much like his arms wrap around your waist. He’s never touched you like this before, in fact, no one has ever touched you like this before. You’re so nervous that he picks it up.

He pulls away from your lips, “What is it? Is this, okay?” He pants, trying to catch his breath.

“Yes... it’s nothing. I’ve just never done this before. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” you too, are panting and trying to catch your breath.

“It’s okay, me too. We’ll learn together, just like we do everything together” he smiles before he leans back in and kisses you excitedly.

His hands explore your body, in places he’s never touched before. They make their way up and down your back, and then around to your breasts. He brushes past them, unintentionally flicking your nipples that peak through the thin cloth on your chest. A soft moan escapes your mouth into his, as you flinch from his touch.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, breaking the kiss.

“No, it felt good. Keep going” you demand, kissing him back.

His hands work further down, past your stomach, down to your lower thighs. Your body moves on its own, rolling and whining to dance with his hands. At this point, he is groaning too, allowing his own body to succumb to his ‘urges’.

You start kissing his neck, and make your way down to his collarbones, caressing the dip in them with your tongue. He closes his eyes, savouring the pleasure that he’s feeling, breathing in your natural scent. The bulge in his loincloth becomes more and more visible, something you’d never seen before. You were curious to see how it feels, if it was really as stiff as they make it seem to be.

You allow your hand to move slowly down his stomach, playing with his belly button on the way down. You cup his bulge, squeezing gently, trying to feel the shape of his member. He jerks slightly, from the sudden touch of his most sensitive area. Soft moans evade his mouth, while he lets his hands move from your thighs to the soft flesh between your legs. You gasp for air as he rubs your most delicate area.

“Whoa. You’re really wet, y/n” he says, making an innocent observation.

“And you’re actually rock-hard” you look up at him, surprised.

His vision becomes hazy, and his heart starts thumping. He tries his best to fight the feeling, and continue to have this moment as himself, but his rut is proving to make that difficult. He lets go of you and takes a deep breath while stepping back.

Did I do something wrong?

“Y/n. My rut. I can’t fight it anymore. We should really stop here.” He says through clenched teeth and furrowed brows.

“Then don’t.” you say, stepping towards him, grabbing his hand.

“Don’t?” he shakes his head, confused and foggy.

“Don’t fight it, Lo’ak. I am here now, and if we are destined to be mates...” you stroke his queue with your other hand, “then is it not my duty as your mate to be with you, now more than ever?”

“Yes. But you don’t understand, y/n. This is not my first rut. I – I can’t control it. No matter how hard I try, it is insatiable. I don’t want to hurt you, especially during our first time...” He takes another step back.

“I want it. I’ve been wanting this. I am ready, Lo’ak. Besides, you owe me for all those times that you stood me up” You giggle, lightening the mood. You cup his face and stare deep into his dark green eyes. “I trust you.”

He shakes his head, “Agh. Okay. But you must listen to me and do exactly as I say, y/n.”

“I’ll do anything you tell me to do.” You look up at him, smirking.

He takes your hand and hurries all the way up to top of the tree, where his hide out rests. There is a woven mat, food, water, and other necessities. It’s nestled among several branches that veer off in all directions. It really looks something like a prison; it saddens you to know he had been dealing with this while you were upset at him for not showing.

He quickly packs his bag with some supplies and food and calls for his ikran who is resting, quietly hidden in the canopy.  There is a great sense of urgency in him, as the height of his rut is fast approaching. You both mount his ikran, and you sit comfortably between his legs. He steers the ikran with one hand, and wraps his other hand tightly around your waist. You soar through the sky towards a small hill deep in the thick of the jungle.

“Should you be flying in this state? Where are we even going?” you ask curiously.

“I’m alright for now. We’re going to a sacred place that my father showed me once. He said to me ‘if for some reason you are lucky enough to mate with someone, bring them here to impress them.’” he chuckles. “Perks of having your father be Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, I guess.”

So, the rumor is real. Huh.

The landing is rough, probably due to Lo’ak’s foggy state of mind. He disconnects his queue from his ikran and dismounts him. You hop off on your own, taking in the view. This hidden, sacred place leaves you breathless. The flora glowed in the night sky, as the waterfalls burble into the large, crystal-clear lake. Vines and panopyra dominate the woodland, wrapping around and hiding between the shrubs and trees. Even Lo’ak was glowing before you, hazy eyed.

Woodsprites float like jellyfish, surrounding Lo’ak, and then you, bringing the two of you closer together. “Does this mean that we are destined to be?” you ask, jokingly.

“Maybe.” He says, seriously, taking his queue and holding it in front of him. “Are you sure you want this?”

You take your queue and hold it in front of you, looking at the tendrils dancing before you. “Yes, do you want this?” you bring your queue closer to his.

“Yes. Definitely, yes.” Your queues come together, creating a spark that only the two of you can feel.

Your eyes dilate, ears lay flat, and your lips part ever so slightly – you are both connected through tsaheylu now. You feel his breath, his heartbeat, his rut. It feels like a deep sensation of sheer frustration, not only sexual, but a craving for a deeper, emotional connection, expressed through sex. Your tail sways back and forth as the feeling travels through every inch of your body.  

Do you feel it?

You’re taken aback by his voice in your head. You swore you didn’t see his lips move. You look at him, really concerned that you’ve gone mad, searching his eyes for an answer.

“Tsaheylu makes it so that we can hear each other’s thoughts.” He speaks.

Like this, my pretty girl.

You smile at him, embracing your mate.

Now we are mated, before Eywa. Your chest gets hot.

For life. He kisses you passionately.

Read part II & III here:

Part II:

Part III:

Special Episode I:

[lilaceas]

vlada roslyakova's clothing fitting in actual days

i. neon flowers

as if clothes fits in flowery & they petals while fade in grace upon skies & nor heaven aren't such a horrible angel thing rarest from all are quite understandable along runway & before problem they first years of walking to the gas station usually opening pack of cigarettes that never smokes at alll come at such a deep loss of her being so ethereal that every jump cross the line of insanity of something we cared for such as more & more pleasant than beauty of ashes down lights & loud song at afterparties while she goes away removing her baby lips baby eyelashes baby cheeks

      or at one time when cared much about. loses to buying cheap wardrobes with smell of nicotine & alright would venture trips down orlando to guess whose bathroom sink was the best that your recovery skinny & smarty has come fun & fireworks every night possibly the 12-step process. the way she pose of coping blew with things her work showed un-copable & protection only when she had sex with rich women without predication love for runway the help of something stranger not as a teenager dose addiction & dizzy haze in all true recovery happens rationally magic appeal relationally, in cause of secretely being too sexy nymph

                but you already know that. know enough her secrets about how we find nothing lasts in silently even you to know after morning in all of these years of jeas & nude lipsticks

of following her work, & that obsession with high couture the more love her first language shows when she spits & you take

       into yourself on outside the inside,  

the less anxiety will be  such a cum whore for clients. one time wasn't enough even sure dior & versace you see she going on that dress were going to make in try her bjd turn back to  make it for agency she was up into

through years of modelling & photography to the next day back then,  

          & they did & she now look at you.

you struggled beauty;

    but you aren't honestly smarty buy me coke & cherry i give you in let death romanticize us let your wings fold i'll cut away to you & lasts forever

& honesty is  fairy games  dressed up it became invited by classic comes to getting well. have always dreamed been on hard covers of bookish & brightly so very blatantly honest since day gone & we loved it.

      even more fitting was delicate such gracious manner than your physical beauty & mystery of never talking to do not have to put on lipstick once a time when the babydolls perfectly placed on her hip bones 

         she believe  it to be last one at least if when i will be thirty two then cancelling shows your greatest asset on the fucked up drama with it will overcome i'm going to be married all these difficult things & stained glass.

ii. selfish

energy radiates her amazing body traces of three years looking by three days in front of mirrors my body she almost say with celestial tones of our signatures & more alive than ever been just like other girls that followed her everywhere & started missing ballet when surrendering to awe & doses of cocktails wonder so high she flies at any costs of jackets pink & blue & yellow so clear she belong everywhere but in heart of other men the same energy her way of curves tell to my younger self fearlessly did i broke her ankle something hidden about that lovely glimmer has destroyed & left yet, may never leave awhile sex doesn't make you rich but can pay an entire macaroon box memories still have flavors as that & mornings with an ex boyfriend lake owner of flakes in a cereal box & a jar milk only

or years & years of hard work later she dreamed in see a cloth & share with a city girl because a small town girl already had that exactly piece when a fried hangover cure lollipop hip hop restores her each month & fifty bucks its esculent flashbacks she depirting to miami a cell in the skin of her innocent not too innocent looks beaten feather in the floor while her mistakes new mediocrity.

iii. glitter

anymore

anymore

anymore-or at?

iv. medic

stop her.

v. light is gone

silly when the hidden not okay never gave permission to herself cops arrive if she glows sitting on the couch naked & ballet shoes apackage of cinderella & snow white lightners laughter aching jaws. asks where my wallet is? drop that motherfucking money we can take you back russian gallery she ask, where my boyfriend is? they laugh. say mushrooms are sweet & fruity & all bad.

brought me back to the date we met when she was a eighteen ballerina so we can endure by calling three times a sec

hospital to deal with the

real killer...

vi. drama

4-fit-underground.

back in hospitalization.

vii. glitter

setting out in the lefting airplane i think i saw a boat. what can possibly means seriously remain?

bring me back to fruit of the wild rose & heartless show of chooses on heels when thirsty? hpnotica?

these little foot are

petal & glorious sucessful stem

—maintenance alcoholic dom & strangers offering me more coffee into fields of cocaine & friends into customers.

only forgivable thing: snow catches on my sister eyelashes blessed blessing bliss is undressed

with out

caution.

~

[yourreddancer]

Detroit is known as the car capital of the world. 

Alpena is the home of the world's largest cement plant. 

Rogers City boasts the world's largest limestone quarry. 

Elsie is the home of the world's largest registered Holstein dairy herd. 

Michigan is first in the United States production of peat and magnesium compounds and second in gypsum and iron ore.. 

Colon is home to the world's largest manufacturer of magic supplies.... 

The state Capitol with its majestic dome was built in Lansing in l879. 

Although Michigan is often called the Wolverine State ,  there are no longer wolverines in Michigan.  (However, one was spotted in 2007, so there are some. )

Michigan ranks first in state boat registrations.  

The Packard Motor Car Company in Detroit manufactured the first air-conditioned car in 1939. 

The oldest county based on date of incorporation is Wayne in 1815...

Sault Ste. Marie was founded by Father Jacques Marquette in 1668.  It is the third oldest remaining settlement i

n the United States In 1817, the University of Michigan was the first university  established by any of the states.  It was founded by priests.  Originally named Cathelepistemian and located in Detroit .  The name was changed in 1821.  The university moved to Ann Arbor in 1841.

 The city of Novi was named from its designation as Stagecoach Stop #6 or No.VI. 

Michigan State University has the largest single campus student body of any Michigan university.  It is the largest institution of higher learning in the state and one of the largest universities in the country.  Michigan State University was founded in 1855 as the nation's first land-grant university and served as the prototype for 69 land-grant institutions later established under the Morrill  Act of 1862.   It was the first institution of higher learning in the nation to teach scientific agriculture..

 The largest village in Michigan is Caro. 

Michigan's state stone, the Petoskey, is the official state stone.  It is found along the shores of Lake Michigan . 

The Mackinac Bridge is one of the longest suspension bridges in the world connecting the upper and lower peninsulas of Michigan ..... It spans five miles over the Straits of Mackinac, which is where Lake Michigan and Lake Huron meet.  The "Mighty Mac" took three years to complete and was opened to traffic in 1957. 

Gerald R Ford grew up in Grand Rapids and became the 38th president of the United States.  He attended the University of Michigan where he was a football star.  He served on a World War II aircraft carrier and afterward represented Michigan in Congress for 24 years.  He was also an Eagle Scout, the highest rank in Boy Scouts. 

The Kellogg Company has made Battle Creek the Cereal Capital of the World.  The Kellogg brothers accidentally discovered the process for producing flaked cereal products and sparked the beginning of the dry cereal industry. 

The painted turtle is Michigan 's state reptile.

 The western shore of Michigan has many sand dunes.  The Sleeping Bear Dunes rise 460 feet above Lake Michigan .  Living among the dunes is the dwarf lake iris the official state wildflower.

Vernor's ginger ale was created in Detroit and became the first soda pop made in the United States ..... In 1862, pharmacist James Vernor was trying to create a new beverage when he was called away to serve our country in the Civil War. When he returned, four years later, the drink he had stored in an oak case had acquired a delicious gingery flavor.

 The Detroit Zoo was the first zoo in America to feature cageless, open-exhibits that allowed the animals more freedom to roam. 

Michigan is the only place in the world with a floating post office.....The J. W. Westcott II is the only boat in the world that delivers mail to ships while they are still underway.  They have been operating for 125 years.   

Indian River is the home of the largest crucifix in the world. It is called the Cross in the Woods. 

Michigan has the longest freshwater shoreline in the world Michigan has more shoreline than any other state except Alaska .

 The Ambassador Bridge was named by Joseph Bower, the person credited with making the bridge a reality, who thought the name, Detroit-Windsor International Bridge , as too long and lacked emotional appeal.  Bower wanted to symbolize the visible expression of friendship of two peoples with like ideas and ideals.

 Michigan has more than 11,000 inland lakes and more than 36,000 miles of streams. Michigan has 116 lighthouses and navigational lights.  Seul Choix Point Lighthouse in Gulliver has been guiding ships since 1895.  The working light also functions as a museum, which houses early 1900's furnishings and maritime artifacts 

Forty of the state's 83 counties adjoin at least one of the  Great Lakes . Michigan is the only state that touches four of the five Great Lakes . Standing anywhere in the state a person is within 85 miles of one of the Great Lakes ..  

 Michigan includes 56,954 square miles of land area, 1,194 square miles of inland waters, and 38,575 square miles of Great Lakes water area.

 Sault Ste. Marie was established in 1668 making it the oldest town between the Alleghenies and the Rockies.   

Michigan was the first state to provide in its Constitution for the establishment of public libraries. Michigan was the first state to guarantee every child the right to tax-paid high school education. 

Four flags have flown over Michigan - French, English, Spanish and United States 

 Isle Royal Park shelters one of the largest moose herds remaining in the United States ..... 

Some of the longest bulk freight carriers in the world operate on the Great Lakes.  Ore carriers 1,000 feet long sail Michigan 's inland seas. 

The Upper Michigan Copper Country is the largest commercial deposit of native copper in the world. 

The 19 chandeliers in the Capitol in Lansing are one of a kind and designed especially for the building by Tiffany's of New York.  Weighing between 800-900 pounds apiece, they are composed of copper, iron, and pewter.

 The first auto traffic tunnel built between two nations was the mile-long Detroit-Windsor tunnel under the Detroit River . 

The world's first international submarine railway tunnel was opened between Port Huron, Michigan, and Sarnia, Ontario, Canada in 1891. 

The  nation's first regularly scheduled air passage service began operation between Grand Rapids and Detroit in 1926. 

In 1879, Detroit telephone customers were first in the nation to be assigned phone numbers to facilitate handling calls.

 In 1929, the Michigan State Police established the first state police radio system in the world.. 

Grand Rapids is home to the 24-foot Leonardo Da Vinci horse, called Il Gavallo.  It is the largest equestrian bronze sculpture in the Western Hemisphere .

 The State Motto (written in Latin) translates to: "If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you."

Check us out at RootedinMichigan.com!

[adsahara]

Top 10 Food Items That Were Invented Accidentally

The great inventions like x-ray machine, safety glass, matches, microwave oven etc., are the result of accidental and unintentional series of activities. But do you know that there are food items that are most commonly consumed by people and are result of accidental invention. So let us learn about 10 food items that were invented accidentally.

10. Chocolate chip cookies

Chocolate chips cookies are loved, not only by children but also youngsters and adults. The chocolate chip cookie was actually accidentally invented by Ruth Graves Wakefield in 1930. The invention happened when Ruth decided to prepare a batch of Chocolate Butter Drop Do cookies, but after realising that she is out of baker’s chocolate she instead added broken pieces of Nestlé chocolate bar, and there our ever loved chocolate chip cookie was invented.

9. Potato Chips

Potato chips were invented by Chef George Crum in 1853. As the story goes, chef Crum invented potato chips accidently when a customer at Saratoga springs’ Moon Lake House was complaining that the fried potatoes were not thin enough even after slicing it thin repeatedly. Then he decided to slice the last batch of potatoes as thinly as possible, fried them and then added salt to them and sent them to customer. The customer loved them and we had our first ever potato chips invented.

8. Popsicles

Immensely popular among children this ice pop is actually invented by an 11 year old kid named Frank Epperson in 1905. One summer day Epperson left his mixed soda and water with a stick into it and then forgot the drink resulting it to remain outside in the cold night. The next morning when he got out, Epperson found his drink frozen inside the glass with wooden stick into it. He named his discovery “Epsicle” but later he changed it to “popsicle”.

7. Beer

The enormously consumed beverage “beer” is said to be discovered by Mesopotamians about 10000 years ago. The invention happened while they were trying to store grains for their bread, but because of the dampness of their storage spaces it caused their grain fermentation. some Mesopotamians were brave enough to taste the drink and “beer” was invented.

6. Ice cream cones

The ice cream cone was invented in 1904 at Louis world’s Fair by Ernest A. Hamwi. Ice-cream cone was discovered when an ice cream vendor at the fair ran out of the bowl to serve ice cream in. After seeing this vendor next to him who was selling waffles, came with the idea of spinning the waffle into cone like shape for the ice cream. The idea of serving ice cream into cone like waffle seem compelling to customer and we can see how ice cream cone has made its way to our heart.

5. Coca cola

John Stith Pemberton, an American pharmacist invented coca-cola in the year 1886 at Atlanta. During the Battle of Columbus, Pemberton became injured which led him to get addicted to morphine. To cure his addiction Pemberton researched and experimented on painkillers that would serve as drug free alternative for his addiction. Eventually after several experiments he created syrup from coca leaves and coca wines. He named the syrup as Pemberton’s French wine coca, but later on, in 1886, due to the ban of alcohol, a non alcoholic version of wine was introduced, naming it, popularly known COCA-COLA.

4. Worcestershire sauce

The accidental invention of Worcestershire sauce took place at the town of Worchester, England in 1835. Upon returning to England, Lord Marcus Sandy, the former governor of Bengal, India found himself craving for his favourite Indian sauce and appointed drug store owners John Lea and William Perrins to recreate it, but because of the strong odour of the sauce from vegetable and fish mixture they decided to store it into basement and forgot for two whole years. The aging period changed the flavour of sauce and it became instant hit with customers.

3. Cheese Puffs/curls

The story of invention of cheese puffs is very unusual and weird one. The accidental invention of cheese curls happened by an animal food manufacturer Flakall Company of Beloit, Wisconsin in 1935. The staff there fed moist corn into the grinder in order to reduce the clogging in the machine. Edward Wilson, an employee at the corporation noticed that the moist cornmeal came out in puffy ribbons, and decided to take it home and added some seasoning to make the first cheese puffs.

2. Nachos

During World War II an accidental cuisine was invented, which is diversely enjoyed globally today. Ignacio Anaya, who was a maître ď at a restaurant called the Victory Club in Piedras Negras, Mexico, near Fort Duncan got to host a group of hungry U.S soldier wives. Anaya decided to cover a plate of Totopos with grated cheese and sliced jalapeños, and presented as an appetizer. The cuisine was named “Nachos” after Anaya’s nickname nacho.

1. Kellogg’s cereal

The most commonly consumed breakfast item corn flakes is actually an accidental discovery. In 19th century John Harvey Kellogg along with his brother Will Keith Kellogg attempted to make a food item to stop masturbation, but accidentally left the wheat to dry out and flaked it once dry to produce wheat flakes. After the discovery, in 1906, Will Keith Kellogg decided to experiment by switching from wheat to corn and marketed it alone to invent ever green breakfast option corn flakes. Read the full article

[mayasaura]

After over three years of hiatus, my sister and I are continuing to read through the Kyou Kara Maou light novels, translated here by BakaTsuki! Halfway through volume seven, we're in the middle of "The World's Best Fighter Tournament!" A sort of nationalist Olympics including chariot racing, featuring star player T-Zhou the racing sheep. It's roughly equivalent to the anime's episode 33 "Run For It! The Snow Sled Race", although so far in the novels there's been a lot of racing and only a few flakes of snow.

Although it's been a while since I saw the anime, I can tell there are some interesting changes. Instead of a village, Josak in the novels grew up in a concentration camp in Simeron, before being liberated by Conrad's father. It's directly compared by Murata to the Japanese internment camps in the Western United States during World War II. Educational material! Yuuri had never heard of those camps which indicates something about either the Japanese education system or Yuuri's study habits. I don't know enough to say, but I suspect the latter. Another interesting detail, Shimeron was only partitioned into Greater Shimeron and Lesser Shimeron sometime in the last hundred years, as it had been one country at the time Josak lived there. I'm expecting to learn a lot more about its history and imperialist wars of expansion over the next arc!

I also keep forgetting how obviously sweet on Wolfram Yuuri is in the novels. Regrettably his green eyes like the bottom of a mountain lake didn't get a mention in the chapters we read today, but his shining gold hair in the firelight did! When Wolfram fell asleep on Yuuri's shoulder after volunteering for first watch, Yuuri took the watch instead and make sure not to move too much so that Wolf would be comfortable. Then when Wolfram did wake up, Yuuri took a moment in the narration to note that his shoulder felt cold now without Wolf sleeping on it. Aw. These kids are alright.

Thank you to BakaTsuki for your hard work translating! Your personalities shine through in the cultural footnotes, which my sister and I badly need and enjoy just as much as the novels themselves.

[jonlovessansa]

OF SANSA, BRUSHING OUT LADY’S COAT -  part 1

He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon’s breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. (ADWD, JON XIII - CH. 69)

There are many metas about the important connection between Sansa and Ygritte and how to recognize it (@rose-of-red-lake wrote a great one), so I’m going to skip that. But there is still something about this particular memory of Sansa that caught my attention right away.

Since we’re presented with the lack of a close relationship between them, I’ve always found peculiar that Jon remembered something so recent about her - which we can safely assume thanks to the presence of Lady - and I couldn’t help but wonder how much recent, exactly, that was. And why.

GGRM, in my opinion, planted in the text some little clues for us to respond, we only need to follow Robb and the snowflakes melting in his hair, which we find repeatedly referred to in the books, 8 times to be precise. 

Let’s have a look:

He looked around at all the noise and confusion. “Leaving is harder than I thought.” “For me too,” Robb said. He had snow in his hair, melting from the heat of his body. (AGOT, JON II - CH. 10)

He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he’d given her Needle.(AGOT, JON V - CH. 41) 

He remembered Robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with snow melting in his auburn hair.  Jon would have to come to him in secret, disguised. He tried to imagine the look on Robb's face when he revealed himself .(AGOT, JON IX - CH. 70)

Arya didn't know how much Robb would pay for her, though. He was a king now, not the boy she'd left at Winterfell with snow melting in his hair. And if he knew the things she'd done, the stableboy and the guard at Harrenhal and all . . . "What if my brother doesn't want to ransom me?"  (ASOS, ARYA VII - CH. 39) 

She had last seen snow the day she’d left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. . (ASOS, SANSA VII - CH. 80)

The cold trickles on (Sam’s) face reminded Jon of the day he’d bid farewell to Robb at Winterfell never knowing that it was for the last time. “And pull your hood up. The snowflakes are melting in your hair."  (ADWD, JON II - CH. 7I)

"I am the Lord of Winterfell,” Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled… and woke with a raven pecking at his chest. (ADWD, JON XII - CH. 58)

The Night's Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. (ADWD, JON XIII - CH. 69)

It's quite effective to read basically the same thing so many times. Must be important, right? So, what precisely happens when Jon leaves Winterfell? To sum up:

Jon climbed the steps slowly, trying not to think that this might be the last time ever. Ghost padded silently beside him. Outside, snow swirled through the castle gates, and the yard was all noise and chaos, but inside the thick stone walls it was still warm and quiet… "I came to see Bran,“ Jon said. "To say good-bye.”… 

Outside, everything was noise and confusion. Wagons were being loaded, men were shouting, horses were being harnessed and saddled and led from the stables. A light snow had begun to fall, and everyone was in an uproar to be off. Robb was in the middle of it, shouting commands with the best of them… Grey Wind was at his side… “Uncle Benjen is looking for you,” he told Jon. “He wanted to be gone an hour ago.” “I know,” Jon said. “Soon.” He looked around at all the noise and confusion. “Leaving is harder than I thought.” “For me too,” Robb said. He had snow in his hair, melting from the heat of his body…. “I have one more farewell to make,” Jon told him. “Then I haven’t seen you,” Robb replied. Jon left him standing there in the snow, surrounded by wagons and wolves and horses…. Arya was in her room, packing a polished ironwood chest that was bigger than she was….“I was afraid you were gone,” she said, her breath catching in her throat. “They wouldn’t let me out to say good-bye."  (AGOT, JON II)

What we gather is that there’s some snow swirling when Jon goes to Bran and it’s lightly snowing when he goes to Robb. From Sansa and Arya we also learn that it keeps falling lightly even when they’re about to leave, so much so that Arya can’t make snowballs because the snow is too fresh still. It means that not many time elapsed from Jon’s goodbye to Bran till their parting from Winterfell, actually, I think it’s all very quick: Jon repeats three times that everything is noise and confusion, snow is falling and everyone is in an uproar to be off, so probably Arya, with new vigor now that she got Needle, is done packing a short time after he left and then they all leave hurriedly.

But who is in the yard? If the space of time between Robb’s farewell and the departure is short, we can assume that when Jon is with Robb, Sansa is there too, all excited for her new life in the South. Contrary to Arya in fact, probably Sansa had accurately packed and was ready when Jon was supposed to leave, according to the information from Arya (“They wouldn’t let me out to say good-bye." ), which was circa an hour prior. Has she been there all the time? 

She has to be there now, and for sure with Lady, because Jon tells us that the WOLVES are in the yard, and since they're puppies, it's logical that they’re not alone. Take also into account that there’s a high chance that the WOLVES are not just the DIREWOLVES, but the STARKS too, specifically, in this case, Sansa and Rickon. This could explain, at least in part, why Jon doesn’t mention them in his memory of the day he left: they are concealed under the falling snow, in the chaos with Robb and the AUBURN HAIR he shares with them.

He looked around at all the noise and confusion. "Leaving is harder than I thought.” 

In all that NOISE AND CONFUSION that Jon insists on reminding us, there is Sansa. It is here that Jon has the last glimpse of her and he’s probably looking at her too when he says that leaving is hard, because Jon tells us that the wolves, whether direwolves and/or Starks, are SURROUNDING Robb and so she is NECESSARILY close by, and he NECESSARILY sees her. 

“LEAVING IS HARDER THAN I THOUGHT...”

And where was Jon while uncle Benjen looked for him? He could not be found, hence he wasn’t where he was supposed to be or where it might have been guessed that he was. He was not with Robb or Bran or Arya, obviously not with Catelyn, and I guess not with Ned because he was probably busy at that point. Did he go to say goodbye to Rickon maybe? Jon says that he has only one last farewell to make, which is to Arya, so he might have gone to him sometime before going to Robb. But THE WOLVES ARE IN THE YARD: was Sansa keeping an eye on him, maybe while brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself…? Was Jon with them?

Or was he simply taking some time because LEAVING WAS HARDER THAN HE THOUGHT? Did he maybe, FROM A CORNER, saw Benjen asking for him (and that’d be why he knew it)? It’s interesting, in this regard, that D&D made sure that we, and Sansa, did remember what Jon's favourite hobby was at the time…

“I'm sure I can't have been great fun. Always sulking in the corner while the rest of you played.”

Was Jon looking at Rickon and Sansa, SULKING IN A CORNER while they played? Was she brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself? Consider that if Sansa was SINGING TO HERSELF, it clearly means that she wasn't singing for someone else, which implies that, at any moment that happened, every time that might have happened, Jon had to be staring at her FROM A DISTANCE, and you don't usually stare at someone by chance, as D&D showed us right after their reunion.

And what a lovely sight it must have been… which brings me straight to part 2.

Thanks for listening!

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

WARNING: Sensuality, including a first time with fingering.

CHAPTER THREE

Indeed, Jennifer Punzel was standing at the door. She looked exactly the same as the last time Anna had seen her, all bright smiles and soft hair. Punz.

Until Anna saw her in that moment, she hadn't realised just how much she'd missed her. Dashing forward, she swept her into her arms and held her close, grateful for a familiar face. One that hadn't changed the way everything else had. She picked her up bodily and swung her around in a circle, literally flinging one of her ballet flats across the entrance hall into the corner.

"Whoa, whoa!" she giggled, though she was clearly pleased with the reaction. "Okay, I get it, you're happy to see me – and that's not just a banana in your pocket!"

"Stupid," she choked out in an overcome, affectionate voice. Then she set her down and pulled back to grin down at her soft cheeks, pressing their foreheads together.

"McFly, what the heck? You act like you haven't seen me in a week."

"I haven't."

"Dork." Shaking her head, Punz leaned up to kiss her nose. Anna fought back her surprise; it seemed not everything was the same as she'd left it. Once more, something had changed for the better. "Are we all set for the lake tonight? I was kinda worried when you weren't up yet this morning, but we have plenty of time left."

Alarmed, she blinked over at Elsa. Was it still alright for her to go with Jennifer, after everything that had happened? Could she handle being in the moment with her when they could no longer be each other's firsts now? It was a truly sad thought; she didn't mean for any of this to happen, but the plan had been to be the first ones to explore each other's pants before Doc's crazy time machine wrecked that whole idea.

But not just their pants. Anna had wanted Punz to be her first, in every possible way. First love, first kiss…first everything. Her only, if everything worked out. Sure, Anna hadn't 'returned the favor', but it wasn't exactly a one-sided affair. Should she keep it a secret? Should she refrain from telling Punz that she wasn't… untouched?

Eyes falling to Elsa, briefly, Anna came to a decision: it didn't matter. Virginity was antiquated, and it didn't lessen Punz's importance in her life. She couldn't undo her actions, but she could make sure that her future ones were exactly what she wanted.

She just needed to make sure she knew what she wanted.

Turning to Elsa, not letting go of Punz, she said, "Mom? That okay? Can… I go?"

"Of course," Elsa said with a wide smile. "We have all the time in the world to talk when you get back." That was obviously intended to be more meaningful than the words would convey to Jennifer, of course. "Have fun, you two."

"Great!" Punz latched onto Anna's arm and dragged her back to her bedroom to begin packing. But all the while, her thoughts were still stubbornly stuck in the living room, with the woman she thought would vanish when she returned to the present.

                              ~ o ~

The lake was beautiful this time of year, when the Autumn was just beginning to grip the trees and turn them red and gold. Many of them would never turn, due to how far south in California they were, but it was still quite majestic to look out over.

"Man… I can't believe we're finally doing this," Anna sighed as she stretched her limbs, gazing out over the water.

Jennifer gave a small chuckle. "Well, after you flaked on me last night, I was wondering if we were going to get a chance," she said, though there was no bite to her words. Anna still turned her head away, blushing.

"Yeah… sorry about that. I dunno what happened." At least that wasn't a lie. Anna really had no idea what she'd done yesterday in this life. But they were here now. The water was smooth and clear, reflecting the sun as it sank towards the horizon. It wasn't quite sunset, but the air was growing cool. Anna only really first noticed it when Punz sidled up, just a little so their shoulders were touching.

Anna didn't mean to compare. But now that she had some experience, she couldn't help herself. Elsa had been so forceful; for a closeted queer of the mid-80s, Elsa had been really… bold. By contrast, Punz was tentative. Careful. Anna would have been, too, if the last week hadn't happened.

Not now, though. Looking over at her friend, Anna knew what she wanted.

"Jen…" Her hand came up to comb through her soft brown forelocks, brushing them back and over her ear as she leaned closer. "I don't know why this took us so long, but… I think there's no better place."

"Jen?" she whispered with a little chuckle. "What happened to 'Punz'? Or is this too serious for nicknames?"

"It's pretty serious." Taking her hands, she squeezed them gently. "I'm so happy to be with you. And I mean like… be with you."

That did startle the other girl, and she blinked as her breath caught. "Wh… o-oh. Anna, I…" Biting her lip for a moment, she looked away and down, then back up at her. "Yeah. Maybe we're ready. And I think I have been for a really, really long time, I just… well, y'know. Friends first, and all that crap."

"Yeah, that crap," she chuckled. They were getting closer, and closer still. Anna's eyes slid closed, feeling hot breath on her lips…

And she saw her mother in her mind's eye. Leaning in to kiss her on the bed in their house before it was their house, surging across the car seats to take her lips. Comforting her in the living room, even with Anna being as disgusting as she possibly could be.

Her head turned away at the very last second, pressing into Punz's cheek. It wasn't going to work. Yes, she did care her, but she couldn't use that to drive out other feelings, towards other people, that easily.

"Anna?" came the trembling question into her ear, and Anna's hands twitched to clamp down harder on her soft shoulders before she removed them entirely. She didn't deserve to touch Punz, not with what she was about to reveal.

"Something… something happened…" Anna said softly. "And it's been weird, and a mess, and I don't really understand it myself. But I think we gotta… I gotta tell you before we keep going."

She had to pause to gather her thoughts. Punz pulled away, just a little, to look Anna in the eye. God she looked so beautiful. Anna raised a hand, wanting to touch her friend but unable to convince herself to actually do it. She didn't deserve to yet.

"I want this with you," she whispered. "So bad. For a long time! But I don't know how much would be because of my feelings for you, or because of how much I want to… to run away from my feelings for someone else. And that's not cool." Closing her eyes, cards on the table, she spoke around the tightness in her chest. "It sounds so cliché to say, 'it's not you, it's me', but there's no other way to put it. I fucked up. And until I can give all of myself to… exploring what we have… it's not fair to use you to like, erase my other feelings. That's bad. I might not know much, but I know that."

It was obvious that Jen didn't know how to react. Anna had expected that. Pulling away entirely, she gave a self-deprecating laugh. "And now I'm screwing up our weekend, too. God…"

"Hey, no," Punz said, her voice uncertain. Very uncertain, but apparently she wasn't going anywhere. "You haven't messed anything up."

"Yes, I have… I really have. God, why can't I just…" Her hands fisted against her forehead, clutching at the bangs that normally fell there, messing up her braids.

"Anna! Whoa, whoa…" Punz gently pried the hands away, caressing over her wrists as she did so. "Listen. I'm… we've been hanging out forever. It makes sense you would want to try… I don't know, just see what's out there? Whatever it is- whoever it is, I'm not gonna be upset."

That prompted a humourless laugh from Anna. Oh, if she only knew… but she couldn't cross that bridge. Not just yet, if ever. "I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not." They both shared a wry little smile, even if Anna was feeling it a lot more than before. "But… can I ask for one thing? In exchange for how completely cool about this I'm being right now."

"Name it," she snorted.

"Kiss me." Her hands wrapped around the collar of Anna's shirt, pulling her in close. "Just do it. Once. I want you to know what you're missing when you're… well, when you're 'thinking things over'."

So that was her game plan. She could tell that Punz had already painted a possible image in her mind of what happened. The night they were supposed to go to the lake, Anna met another woman, fell for her, and now she couldn't make up her mind. Which, in a way, was true… even if it wasn't so cut-and-dry as all that.

"You'd still kiss me? Even after I told you that?" For the hundredth time that day, she could feel wetness gathering at the corners of her eyes.

When Punz gave a chuckle, it sounded like she was on the verge of tears herself. Even as her face moved ever clsoer. "Well… yeah."

Oh. Anna couldn't deny that she wanted to kiss Punz. Jennifer. But she wanted a lot of things. She longed for a life not messed over by time travel and- and incest, oh god! But she shook that thought from her head. Now wasn't the time for that. Punz deserved that, at least. So, trembling, she nodded.

"Only- only if you want," Anna said softly. Punz smiled and leaned closer.

"I want," she replied against Anna's lips, before finally sealing them.

It was everything she had ever hoped. Soft and sweet. Punz took the lead, and Anna let her. It was only fair. Anna didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to be kissed so softly, sweetly… tenderly.

But there was one thing Punz's patience and understanding had accomplished: she certainly wasn't thinking about anyone else but her now. Fully focused on her lips, her gentle heat and her soft cheeks. A completely different experience than the other one she had.

When Jennifer pushed her back into the bed of the truck, Anna wrapped her arms around her body, pulling her down with her. Letting her maintain control. The kissing grew more vigorous, and hands began to wander. When she felt one at her hip, she broke the kiss to speak.

"Punz… wait."

"Huh?" she mumbled, a little dazed.

"Just… slow down. We have all night." Her hand reached up to comb through her hair again, and she smiled at the light flush in the cheeks of her girlfriend. "But… yeah, wow."

"Wow," Punz giggled as she curled up around Anna's body. "Mmm, sorry. I know our first real heavy kiss almost turned into our first time, but I guess I've been holding back the urges so long they kinda just…"

"Exploded? Yeah… yeah, I know what you mean." Of course, Anna was talking about a situation involving someone else, but she definitely knew what she was talking about.

Then the meaning behind her words became clear to Anna. "Wait, whoa, you- you would? With me?" Anna asked. There was an implicit, "now?" to the question, which was by most accounts redundant anyway. If Anna hadn't stopped her, would they have continued, despite what she had revealed only moments before?

Punz didn't answer, not with words. She moved a little closer; held a little tighter. One hand, which hand come to rest on Anna's stomach, moved up, stopping just below her breasts. "You can kiss me, too, you know," she said. In the still of the evening, her words may as well have been shouted.

Swallowing, Anna smiled. "If you want…" One corner of Punz's mouth twitched in a grin.

"I want, Anna," she said again, voice strong and words fierce. She was saying other things, too, with her body and with her eyes; things that Anna couldn't bring herself to think about, not yet, because they brought her too close to the topic she didn't want to remember. She didn't want to taint Punz, or the memories she made with her.

So Anna kissed her, lost herself in the feeling of Punz, her girlfriend. And maybe she could find peace with her. Brief snatches of it, like now.

"I don't deserve you," she said when they parted again. "How are you so… perfect? And beautiful, inside and out?"

"You deserve me because I say so," came the reply. "And I think you deserve every part."

"Glad one of us does." Her hands began to run up and down the length of Punz's body, from shoulder along her slight chest and down to her curving hip, back up along her ribcage. Punz closed her eyes. Clearly, she had been waiting for Anna to take some initiative for a while.

So she did. Maybe she couldn't fully give herself to Jennifer yet with everything swimming around in her head, but she could give Jennifer what she was craving most.

A soft "Oh" fell from her lips when Anna began rubbing her through her jeans. But she said no more than that, merely leaning in to kiss her again. So Anna kept it up, gliding her fingers up and down along what she knew lay beneath. Their breaths grew shakier, though Punz's were shakier still than her own, until finally she had to break away from the kiss to breathe.

"You… can tell me to stop anytime," Anna reassured her in a soft voice. Hoping to mirror some of her girlfriend's confidence, she added, "But I hope you don't."

"Anna…" Her thighs parted slightly, and she raised one up to drape over Anna's hip, giving her access. Granting permission for her to go as far as she was willing.

So she went further. The fingertips glided up again, but this time they took a moment to unbutton, unzip, and then rub at her through the lace of her panties. Clearly Punz had planned for this. Anna smiled, glancing down to look at what she was doing.

Purple underwear.

Anna froze. Her brain short-circuited even as Punz moaned against her ear. How could- how could she do this? After what she'd allowed to happen to herself only the night before, at her mother's hands?

"Please, Anna," Punz said, hips grinding jerkily. Unpractised. Anna forced her mind back to present day. This wasn't about her. It was about Punz, and treating her like the only girl in the world. She was the only girl in Anna's world. And for whatever reason, she thought Anna worthy of her. She couldn't let her down when she deserved to be happy. To have a first time free of worry.

"Sorry," Anna whispered, redoubling her efforts. "Here…"

This time, when she pushed past the waistband, she was able to stay focused. Jennifer looked so beautiful laid out below her, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as she panted. Anna smiled at the cute little buck teeth; she had always thought they were adorable. She kissed her cheek and neck as she slid down through her soft hairs to glide up against her wetness.

"OH!" she gasped out. "Anna!"

"I-is it alright?" she asked, though she didn't stop or draw away. She was reasonably sure it was alright… but had to ask. Maybe Elsa had gone down on her, but this was her first time initiating or trying anything herself. All new territory.

"Y-yeah… mmmhh, oh it's so much better than when I do it." A little soft laugh. "Maybe that's a silly thing to s-say right now…"

"Nah. You sound incredible. And you feel…" Anna didn't have words. Was this what it was like to touch another woman? It almost felt wrong, like she shouldn't be allowed to get this close to someone, but at the same time she had never felt more honoured to indulge in her wicked side. Her one regret was that Punz couldn't be given that honour in return.

Most of all, because it was Punz. The woman she loved. Even if she had been confused by other recent events, that hadn't really changed… just been obscured.

"You're beautiful," Anna whispered. "I'm so lucky…"

And she was, in so many ways. Punz was giving her everything, no shame or hesitation. As stupid as she thought the notion of virginity, Anna was at least able to recognise that to some people, it held value – and a moment like this, regardless, was special.

Anna wrestled with a thought, even as she was pushing Jen ever closer to her climax: did she deserve to know? The answer was a resounding 'yes', but it raised other questions: was Anna brave enough to tell her? Did she think Punz would believe her?

Too big. The thoughts were too big to answer alone; she needed to talk to her mother, or Doc. So she decided to shake them for now. No need to kill her mood, and Punz's, with those kinds of thoughts. Instead, she simply focused harder on the woman she was with. Though inexperienced, Anna made up for it in her eagerness to please her girlfriend.

Slipping a finger inside Jennifer for the first time was an interesting experience. Anna marvelled at the slickness that clenched around her and she took her time in exploring, poking and prodding to figure out what felt best. She was rewarded by a choked cry, the feeling of Jennifer's fingers digging into her shoulder, and the swell of pride in her chest that she was the cause of it.

Within about five furious minutes of Anna stroking her inner walls, growing accustomed to how she felt inside, Jennifer was getting close to her climax. Anna had never felt anyone else do that before but all the signs were unmistakable: shorter, more shallow breaths, the squirming of her hips, and the way she called out Anna's name in a continual litany. It made her heart soar to hear her this way; maybe it spread heat to her own nether regions, as well, but if she were truly being honest, that took a distant backseat to simply seeing the woman she loved look so purely joyful.

"Anna!" Punz finally called out, writhing and gasping for breath as she clutched at Anna's shoulders, face sheathed in sweat. "More! Yes!"

"Come for me. Just let it all out!" Maybe that was a stupid response, but it was all Anna could think of to say. She just wanted to hear her love moan and enjoy herself.

And she did – the orgasm rocked her and turned her into a thing unhinged, completely given over to the moment. It was one of the most beautiful sights she had seen in all her life. Minutes and aftershocks passed, and all that time Anna couldn't keep her eyes off Jennifer's sweet, blushing face.

And then came the giggles. They were tired and slow, but still there.

"Wow," Punz said after a moment. "Wow. That was… God."

Anna smirked. "Thanks, but you can just call me Anna."

At that, Punz squealed, giving her a light shove. "You nerd," she said, fondness seeping into her voice. It managed to resurrect the blush that had been rapidly fading, highlighting her freckles. The sun had sunk well towards the horizon, and the cool steel of the truck bed had begun to soak into their clothes and their skin. Anna shivered, and Punz nuzzled in close.

"Maybe we should move," Anna suggested softly.

"Mmm don't wanna…" Punz whined. Still she sat up; she had actually made it from the truck before she realised her pants were still undone.

"I tell you what; that's hot." Biting her lip, Anna hopped out of the truck bed. She glanced at her hand, then up at her girlfriend. "Hey, Punz…"

"What?" She looked a little drained when she turned around, probably from the outpouring of energy. But when she saw Anna taking the finger she had used on her into her mouth, her eyes flew open. "Anna! You… o-oh…"

The smile was clearly pleased as Anna drew the finger back out. She herself was blushing, too; this was not a level of boldness she was used to attempting at all. Maybe the one good thing about what happened to her in the past was that she had gotten over that shyness.

Well, there were many good things. But she didn't want to think about the rest at the moment.

"You're so bad," she muttered as she skipped back over toward Anna to place a kiss on her cheek. "Anyway… um… I don't think you have to worry about me running off just because of those 'complications' you mentioned earlier. If you keep making me moan like that, the least I can do is give you room to figure yourself out."

Anna didn't have any words to tell Punz how much she appreciated that thought. At the same time, though, she didn't think it was fair on the other girl. Unable to look at her for the moment, Anna instead faced the ground.

"You don't have to wait for me," she said softly. "That's not fair on you."

Punz snorted. Anna heard her take a few steps, and before she could glance up, the other girl had come to a stop. Punz took her hands and squeezed them.

"What do you think I've been doing?" she asked with a smile. "Anyway, I decide what I want to waste time on – and for whatever reason, that's you."

Her words sounded harsh, but her smile and sarcastic tone took out any bite that may have remained. And without prompting, she bent forward, pressing her lips against Anna's just once, quickly.

"Punz…"

"And now you know what you're gonna be missing," she said softly. "Now, c'mon. I'm getting hungry."

And with that, she was off, giggling again. Anna stared in mingling delight and wonder, with a quiet undercurrent of dread. Punz deserved the best; she just had to figure out if the best meant her.

                              ~ o ~

The rest of the night went great. Even though Anna turned down Punzie's attempts to return the favour – saying she just wanted to hang out for the rest of the night, much to her girlfriend's disappointment – they had a great time, building a campfire and roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, laughing about the upcoming dance and chatting about the future of the band. It wasn't exciting, but Anna had enough excitement for one lifetime.

No thanks to the Doc. To help cover for what happened the night before, she did end up telling Jennifer about the experiment, and how Doc almost died. She looked horrified and worried. Even though she had only brought Punz around once or twice to meet him, she still seemed to think he was funny in a quirky way and was genuinely concerned about his health. But Anna promised they would go check in on Doc when they got back.

Then they passed out in the bed of the truck in their sleeping bags. It was the first time Anna had ever really slept beside someone in that way, and she couldn't sleep at first. Too giddy and too full of affection. Punz was much the same, grinning across at her silently as the stars twinkled overhead. They kissed a few times, but tried not to do it too much so they would eventually fall asleep.

Eventually.

Early the next morning, Anna felt something nuzzling her. For a split second, she worried it was a bear or something, but then a slight smile pulled at her lips when she remembered who she was with. She didn't make a sound – why say good morning when she could show Punz instead?

So, rolling over, Anna snuggled in further, lips pressing against a warm throat. She was rewarded with a soft moan that sent gentle vibrations through her lips.

"Mmmm, someone's up," Punz commented. Anna didn't bother replying – not with words, at any rate. The air was cool as she took her arms from her sleeping bag, using them to ensnare Punz and push her over.

"Someone is," Anna said, gazing goofily at her- her girlfriend? They hadn't discussed labels, but judging from Jennifer's actions, she wasn't exactly looking at other people.

Unlike Anna. Geez. But it wasn't the time for that. This weekend was about Punz, not about some thing that happened two nights ago – or thirty years ago, depending on one's perspective.

Luckily, Punz was there to help shift her from that downward spiral, pulling her own hands out to embrace Anna and draw her close. She leaned up, pressing their lips together – it was like a drug. Anna couldn't get enough, and from Punz's own willingness to initiate, she was the same. This time, Anna took the opportunity to nibble at her through her shirt. Punz giggled, then began to pant when she felt the lips making short work of her peaks through the fabric. Anna not only needed this, but rejoiced in it, plying at the surface.

But it reminded her of another moment involving nipples. One that she put out of her mind immediately; this was their weekend. Not a weekend to reflect on the insanity of the past. Punz was already rolling her over onto her back, pinning her and smirking downward.

"Got you, McFly."

"You sure did," she half-panted with a beaming smile. Then she saw Punz trying the same thing on her. "Ooh… this is… freakin' hot." Except there was something missing. Something she definitely remembered another girl playing with only just last week. A hand shot up to the tit not currently being lavished, and it confirmed her suspicions.

Her piercings were gone.

She had a moment of panic before the realisation hit her: this universe, this Anna, had never had reason to get them. There had been no alcoholic mother to rebel against. Sure, she was still interested in getting them, but she knew deep down that the last little push that sent her to the tattoo parlour had been a fight with her mother.

Punz hadn't noticed her distraction, probably taking her movement as encouragement, as a sign that Anna was more than enjoying the actions. And she was! A hum of appreciation had Anna's attention moving away from her ruminations and into this moment.

"You better believe it is," Punz murmured.

Then she began to steadily kiss downward. Anna didn't want her to stop. She craved it. She still remembered the feeling of having someone there, to be completely at their mercy.

But that was the thought that had her pushing Punz away, scrambling to sit up. The morning air only made the peaks of her nipples that much more prominent, and Anna had a sudden desire to cover herself. She didn't regret what she had done with Elsa – not exactly. But it still made her feel… dirty.

"Anna?" Punz asked gently, puzzled and perhaps a little hurt. "Did- did you not want me to…?"

"No!" Anna cried, before she could stop herself. And then she cringed. "I mean… I do want this – want you. I just… need time."

It was a piss-poor excuse, Anna knew that. Even if it was the truth. How was she ever supposed to move on and get better if she didn't give herself a chance? Elsa had even said as much – she'd had years, decades, to come to terms. Anna had been given hours.

Of course Punz looked put out by being turned down. But to her credit, she shrugged and turned to lean against the side of the truck bed, drawing her knees up to her chin as she looked out over the lake.

"Kay."

After a second or two, Anna managed to suppress all of her urges – and her instinct to cry – and crawled up to sit next to her. "I'm, uh, working through something. Let's just say… I hooked up with somebody. And I didn't mean for it to happen, but she was really… really forceful." A rueful chuckle escaped her at the thought.

"Forceful? She didn't… I mean, it wasn't-"

"No, no," she assured her, smiling fondly at how alarmed Punz was on her behalf. Her hand took up the other girl's, and she felt her squeeze in recognition. "It's okay, I'm okay. Just… yeah, I really didn't expect that, and now I don't want to just… you know… 'Why not let Punz do it again?' I want it to be about us, about sharing that moment with just you."

Though Jen looked a little green to be discussing Anna being with someone else, she continued to smile, albeit weakly. "Um… okay, I don't know exactly how you want me to react to this."

"I don't want you to react any one way. Just trying to let you know why I'm being so weird, that's all. Sorry."

"Yeah. And… it's okay, I… well, we've been such awkward turtles, and never straight-up said we were 'girlfriend and girlfriend' before. Maybe we were exclusively almost-dating but we never actually made it official, so it'd be pretty stupid for me to be upset over you, um, looking into other options."

"It wasn't like that!" she cried, though it definitely sounded less angry and more defeated. "She… I made sure to tell her about you, and- and my feelings. But somehow she just…"

"Worked her way in there anyway?" Punz's voice was soft, and maybe a little sad. Anna broke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning in close. Her eyes grew wet, and she knew it wasn't fair to seek this kind of comfort from Punz; but she also knew Punz wouldn't push her away. Selfish as it was, that was a nice thought.

Anna wasn't even sure how long had passed when she stopped crying and pulled away from the hug to wipe at her face. Punz helped her, pushing her tears off her cheeks with both thumbs.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah. God, I'm sorry for falling apart like that, when I'm the one who's the jerk here."

"Nobody's the jerk here," she chuckled. "Well, except maybe for this other chick who jumped your bones without you expecting it."

"Maybe," Anna had to admit out the side of her mouth. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well. I'm pretty sure it's totally over with her, anyway, so this might be the last conversation we have about this for a while."

"Uh-huh." There was a little disbelief in that one response, but Punz instead focused on reaching into a backpack that had been pushed up close to the cab. "Breakfast?"

So they moved on to munching on Pop Tarts and sipping hot chocolate as they watched the sun rise a little higher over the lake. Slowly, Anna started to hear some of the differences between how Punz was with her when she knew her, and the way she had been with Alternate-Anna. Apparently, this version of herself had the luxury of a supportive mother, so all her nervousness was purely based around how much she liked Jennifer instead of disapproval from her parents. That was a boon, even if one she didn't get to experience directly. The other differences were very slight, such as a few of their running in-jokes being absent, and Punz expecting her to know a few that she didn't. But almost everything else was the same.

And that was something that Anna appreciated, far more than she could put into words. Her life wasn't the same – overnight, it had changed, drastically. For the better, sure, but that didn't mean Anna liked all of it. Her whole life had been about some very specific routines. And while her life had changed around her, she was still the same as she had been before. She was 'Anna from the Dark Timeline' or something equally scifi-sounding.

Man. Maybe she needed to talk to someone about this. Someone not invested.

Of course, if Anna had noticed, then Punz wasn't any different. She didn't comment, but Anna could see that wanted to. The question never really left her eyes – "what happened?" – but Anna didn't have an answer; even if she did, she wasn't sure that Punz was ready to hear it anyway.

So they swam a little, admiring each other's bodies – though not seeing them on full display. Still that slight bit shy, and probably more because of Anna's reluctance that Punz couldn't quite understand. It was becoming clear this wasn't a situation they could let fester.

Eventually, they packed up to head back into town. Anna kissed Punz again around the corner from her parents' house, since they didn't like Anna in either reality. Then she dropped her off and headed for home. But on the way there, she had another idea pop up.

Who was the one person who actually fully understood her situation?

                               TO BE CONTINUED…

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🎧 B:sides ~ Lager by Lennarrrt 

The starter: 'B:zväng' TextMix & reading af MrZ Komposition & Produktion af SkåneJokke Lütz [0:41]

1. 'Owerset II' from Owerset af Sarah-Jane Summers [5:56] 2. 'Bergen' from Reflections & Odysseys af Rymden [6:24] 3. 'Jubileumspolska' from Vårvindar friska af Rydvall | Mjelva [2:33] 4. 'Svartskhalling' from Rinkebysvängen af Yakumbé [4:39] 5. 'Blodspredikan' from Orakel af Per Texas Johansson | Konrad Agnas | Torbjörn Zetterberg [5:44] 6. 'Bilayer' from Bilayer af Bilayer [22:33] 7. 'Fugue' from Fugue af Oskar Lindström Trio [6:00] 8. 'Condon’s Frolics / the Humours of Ballingarry / Kilglass Lakes' from Homecoming af Anders Lillebo [3:23] 9. 'Spagetti Polonäs' from Panna mot panna af Oskar & Jonathan [3:39]

1 jingle incl tune from Kmag #107 af Loopmasters Samples & 2 jingles from B:sides on Spotify This weeks BibleVers: “I have heard the grumbling of the Israelites. Tell them, ‘At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.’” That evening quail came and covered the camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor.” ~ Exodus 16:12-14

Drink Espresso - God bless U! /MrZ :)

www.ib2.se Soli Deo Gloria

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Join Generation XYZ @ gen.xyz 

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[danbily]

Goodbye Vietnam

This is a true story about a winter camping trip that I went on.

As a chubby little boy, I was the perfect fit for Cub Scouts. We built birdhouses, sang silly songs, and, best of all, baked cookies. What I lacked in ambition was more than offset by the snacks at the end of each weekly meeting. My small blue uniform was stretched to its limits as I neared the end of my tour of duty. It was time to move on to Boy Scouts.    

My first night at Boy Scouts was shockingly different from Cub Scouts. Mr. Cordy, our scoutmaster, made us suck in our guts as we stood at attention in a straight line while he inspected our uniforms. My scarf tie was on crooked and I could feel that Mr. Cordy was unhappy about my chubby physique. “You will benefit from our exercise program, young man,” was his terse remark as he departed for the next scout in line. I knew then that we were not ending this meeting with cookies and milk, and I was right.

My pack included my best friend, Charlie, my neighbor, Art, my fellow Cub Scout, Paul, and Donny. Donny was the son of our pack supervisor, Mr. Lynn, who’d been an officer in World War II. In addition to our regular troop meeting at the new rec center, we would often meet at their home. The Lynns owned one of the first color TVs in 1958. We would all gather around it and gaze in amazement at actual color film. We compared it to our drab black and white sets at home and laughed. Mrs. Lynn would make us snacks as well. It was so much better than a troop meeting with mean Mr. Cordy.

Just after the New Year, Mr. Lynn announced that he together with Mr. Cordy were planning a winter father-son campout. Each pack would pick their own date and camp just south of Holland, New York, a town known for its lake effect snow.

I was eager to test out my new scout-approved, two-man tent that I’d earned by selling Boy Scout Christmas cards. It was a canvas tent complete with poles, stakes, and a canvas floor. It also had a mosquito net door that would be a nice feature in the summer. The only thing I lacked was an air mattress for the underside of my sleeping bag. My dad and I needed to go shopping for air mattresses as soon as possible.      

The following Saturday, we visited our local sporting goods shop. It was located in a small plaza and had a limited selection. The clerk showed us an air mattress made in France, but made no personal recommendation; he fully admitted that he wasn’t into camping. My father ultimately bought two of the ugly blue contraptions. The clerk smirked as he rang them up on the register. I knew this wasn’t a good omen. On the drive home, I opened one of the boxes and tried to read the instructions. My dad looked over at me in disgust. “Don’t they teach you kids how to read at that school I pay hefty taxes to send you to? Hand me those instructions.” I did as requested and my father pulled over to the curb. After a minute, he turned to me. “Damn things are written in French,” he said. “Mom can read Polish,” I said, “Is that close?” Needless to say, it wasn’t. We struggled with the few crude drawings and I understood why the clerk had smirked.

The week of the camping trip was filled with the promise of a new adventure in my young mind. I loved watching Walter Cronkite and The Twentieth Century on Sunday evenings. The film footage of the mighty German army grinding to a halt outside Moscow in the brutal Russian winter was a fresh memory. Would our pack succumb to the same fate in the heavy snow south of Buffalo? Then there was my image of Napoleon sitting inside the Kremlin, burning furniture in order to keep warm. Was Mr. Lynn aware of just how awful George Washington had it during that winter at Valley Forge? As an officer from our military, I hoped he was well versed in the hardships of a winter campout, especially one that involved the greenest of troops known as the Boy Scouts.

That Saturday arrived with clear skies and bountiful sunshine for our two hour drive to Scout camp.  We had six carloads in all, as many of the fathers had volunteered to accompany their sons on this make believe Arctic adventure. The local weather forecast never came up in conversation. The radio stations were all based in Buffalo and would not have mentioned any snow this far south of the city. It was still sunny and birds were chirping as we unloaded our camping supplies in the parking lot. We had two toboggans with tow ropes for our tents. Our cooking gear and food was in our Scout regulation knapsacks. We all opted for snowsuits and rubber boots versus any regulation uniform, a wise choice for this ragtag little army of greenhorns. Mr. Lynn took out his map and pointed to a trail leading from the edge of the parking lot to a wooded hillside. “Boys, I mean MEN, we will proceed this way.”

The snow had been packed down on the trail from previous use. It wasn’t difficult to follow. We found a tree sheltered hillside after a one hour hike. Mr. Lynn and Art, our only Eagle Scout, declared that we’d “arrived at encampment.”  I personally felt it had more to do with the heavy wheezing now coming from many of the fathers prone to smoking. We were assigned small areas and told to pitch our tents and help with a general mess area for our evening meal. The snowpack was shoveled clear in a twenty foot circle and we started a fire in the middle. We went on a scavenger hunt for every downed tree limb on that hillside. Our fire soon blazed like a blast furnace and our bodies cooked on one side and froze on the other. I understood why the Indians had danced around the fire, they were simply rotating in the heat like chickens on a spit.

The evening meal consisted of beans and weiners emptied from large institutional cans into a five gallon enameled steel cooking pot. We made Scout biscuits by rolling a twig in Bisquick and water. After a dough ball had formed on the end of the twig, it was held over the fire until it turned light brown. We enjoyed the folly of keeping the biscuits on the twig and out of the fire. You either mastered the technique or ate only beans and weiners. I ended up the expert in this bizarre food misadventure and became camp baker for the less able. I must have baked three dozen biscuits that evening. They were served with huge slices of butter. Rounding out our frontier dinner party was hot chocolate and Hostess cupcakes. We all liked to suck out the cream filling first, then eat the frosting.

By the time dinner ended, the wind had picked up and snowflakes were appearing in ever increasing numbers. True to the Buffalo curse, the flakes were blowing parallel to the terrain and entering our tents through the tiniest of cracks in the flap doors. Art, our Eagle Scout, suggested that we lower the mosquito netting once inside, and the screening would catch any snow that made it through the canvas flaps. This indeed proved to be an effective solution, and my dad and I turned in early to the sound of what now seemed like a blizzard and the songs of a rock station on my six transistor radio. Dad only liked “Harbor Lights,” an old song by The Platters that had been recently redone for my generation. Battery life was short in those days and we were soon left with only the wind and our thoughts. My mind focused on those newsreel clips of the mighty German army snowbound thirty miles from Moscow and helpless. That was just about our distance from Buffalo.

Attempting to sleep in the dead cold of winter with the wind whipping the pines above us was a no go from the start. My sleeping bag had been advertised as containing two pounds of genuine goose down. I’d been light on funds at the time and had passed over the deluxe bag with three pounds of goose down. Like the German army, I’d underestimated what cold really means. My father had opted for several dark green woolen army blankets he’d purchased years ago when he and my mother went tent camping in Canada. They were scratchy but warm. So there we lay, me with my teeth chattering from the cold and Dad itching from the coarse army issue woolen blankets. He told me a story about camping in Northern Ontario in early June and having it snow. Even though the fishing went well, my mother never forgave him for the poor timing. I understood her resentment as my own carefree attitude toward camping was waning.         

Halfway through our no sleep night, the hot chocolate caught up with my bladder. My dad was in equal need of a nonexistent bathroom in the forest. We struggled with our flashlights to find our boots and untie the many straps that secured both the canvas door flaps and the mosquito netting. We also observed that our brand new French air mattresses were no longer plump and firm. What could be the problem? My dad suggested that the cold had reduced the air volume and it was of no concern to us. The trek up into the pines revealed a full blown lake effect blizzard had descended on our little party of novice campers. The yellow snow we made was covered instantly by the fast falling fresh white variety. “I hope Lynn remembers the way out. There’ll be no tracks to follow by morning,” my father said, not sounding all that confident.

It wasn’t the morning sun that woke us, it was the sting of cold ice water on our backsides. Remember those deflating French air mattresses? Well, they continued to deflate as the night went on. This in turn put our body heat in direct contact with the snowpack beneath our tent floor. The rest was simple physics. We had to stand up and try to dry ourselves as best we could. My dad restarted the campfire with much effort put into finding the kindling and pine logs now buried under a foot of fresh powder. A squirt of charcoal lighter fluid brought the fire to life. So much for the Indian method we’d seen in our handbook. They were smart enough to have long houses, animal pelt clothing, and all the time in the world to make it work. We stood with our backs to the flames as a small group of teeth chattering scouts joined us in a circle of distraught ignorance. Humility was earned one mistake at a time.  

Mr. Lynn soon appeared and announced that the smarter option would be to hike out and have breakfast in town at the local diner. I heard no dissenting remarks from the red faced, booger nosed tiny army of boys that had been labeled MEN just twelve hours earlier. Art, the Eagle Scout, got out his map and compass and showed us what he thought was our path out. He was wrong, but our luck held. The snow had abated enough to spot the camp mess hall on the hilltop near the parking lot. With our goal in sight, we broke camp and trudged off in knee deep snow. Each step took a deep breath of effort and the fathers who smoked dearly paid for that extra push. After an hour in the Klondike of Southern Erie County, we all reached the parking lot. Here the vast majority our pack fell down in a snowbank to rest. Thankfully, the Scouts had a full time manager that kept the parking lot and service roads plowed. We brushed the snow off of our caravan of 1950s iron and off we drove to Holland, New York.

Over my pancakes and hot chocolate at the Zider Zee Diner, I could clearly see that the military was not going to be in my future. Mr. Lynn had failed to secure an accurate weather forecast, our equipment was a joke, and Art was incompetent. As a final note, Art went to Vietnam as a second lieutenant. He got so many of his men killed that he returned stateside and entered the priesthood. I became a salesman and stayed at five star hotels. So much for winter camping!  

[greyssmith]

Riddle school transfer walkthrough step by step

A Navy spokeswoman.Crossing Lake Pend Oreille One of Northern Pacific's 4-6-6-4s crosses Lake Pend Oreille at Sand Point, Idaho, with a freight train in June 1954. Navy's stealth submarine research facility at Lake Pend Oreille in North Idaho. An investigation is underway to determine why a barge capsized two months ago at the U.S. The construction of Chief Joseph Dam on the Columbia River created Rufus Woods Lake. Eight more units were completed in 1958, then eleven more in 1979, to total 27 units. Construction began in 1949, and the first eight generating units were brought online in 1955. The project was renamed Chief Joseph Dam in the River and Harbor Act of 1948. At an elevation of 1,877 ft above sea level the lake offers. Lake Wenatchee State Park has over two miles of waterfront campgrounds, a boat launch ramp and a boat dock. There is about 15 miles of shoreline to explore and fish. Cocolalla Lake Events Lake Pend Oreille Events.Located in the north-central part of WA, Lake Wenatchee is a 2,500-acre lake nestled in the Wenatchee National Forest. The wind had just shifted when this picture was taken at approximately 8. The smoke to the left and right of the smoke stack is all from Lignetics. This Page is to Raise Awareness About Lignetics Polluting the Air Over "America's Most Beautiful Small Town"Sandpoint, Idaho and Lake Pend OreilleScroll Down for More Pictures and a Live Video Feed. The storm continued on its south to southwest path through 4:20 PM producing a impressive. This storm moved south to south-southwest around 15 MPH and attained severe intensity once it reached the west-central shore of the lake. Home About Slips Boat Sales Boat Rentals Store Live Cam On the afternoon of July 28th, 2009, a large thunderstorm developed over the north end of Priest Lake around 3:00 pm. Located only minutes from Lake Pend Oreille, Sandpoint, Schwietzer Ski Resort, and the beautiful Clark Fork River and Delta, the Clar.© Hope Marina 2019 - 2022 Website created by Selle Design Group. At the Clark Fork Lodge, we specialize in outdoor fun. where2go Weather Maps Meteograms Wind Map. Dug out by Ice Age glaciers and located amid three major frontal ranges of the northern Rocky Mountains, it has natural splendor galore to go with a fascinating human and natural history.Dover: Lake Pend Oreille 3 hours ago. It's also the deepest (at 1,158 feet deep, there are only four deeper lakes in the nation). Thu, Sep 08, Partly Cloudy 68º FLake Pend Oreille is Idaho's biggest, at 43 miles long with 111 miles of shoreline. Crossing the Long Bridge provides incredible views of Lake Pend Oreille, Sandpoint, Schweitzer and the Selkirk Mountain range. Located on the southern tip of lake pend oreille in the coeur d'alene mountains of northern idaho, farragut state park offers unique scenery, history and an abundance of recreational opportunities, including disc golf, a radio-controlled airplane field, fishing, hiking, biking, equestrian facilities and world war ii history - don't miss the …Iconic Lake Pend Oreille Chateau This masterpiece sited on a 2-acre lakefront point consists of the main home, a 4-bedroom second/guest home and a well-protected boat house with sandy beach.

[rhotdornn]

[The Lay of Light]: Part [II] -- Silver Winds

[Part I]

[Accompanying music theme]

Child of Winter, and the flakes it bore Already flitting away Fleeing with the wind that saw them soar Once more lost, condemned to stray

The crash of roaring currents, lapping over stone and root by the waterfall, dissuaded her step little and less. She had come here on the account of a summon, and on that account she’d remain, until the council was concluded.

The plateau of their meeting place had been carved out of eight pillars, suspending a tall roof above their heads. Upon it, the gentle lines of a maple leaf had long since been drawn out—peering overhead, as if watching over the events beneath with a wary vigil. Eight pillars, indeed, had been planted into one—for the platform was suspended tall, with four staircases climbing up against it, and from its circular edge would these pillars scrape towards and court the heavens.

With her flowing dress in swift pursuit of her languid, voiceless step, the lady soon bade her way upwards. Hair of enchanting silver waxing and waning against the gentle stream of wind whispered throughout the first—and last—bastion of the valley that stood fast at the throat of Gwaith-i-Nanduirion. Beyond these blazing forges and tranquil falls lay a forsaken refuge, long since abandoned—its sculptor and bane both unknown to most scripts and scrolls alike. Such landscape reeked of treachery and demise, so it came as no surprise that none would see the haunt’s peace disturbed. No, beyond locked gates it’d remain, the truth of its fate kept shy of mortal eyes until all days were counted, and the land’s breath was all but spent.

Yet on this day, the sun would still wash over cool stream and dewy pasture green. No darkness would teeter overhead to thwart the morn, and sink the hearts of man.

As her mind drifted back and forth, swaying betwixt possible causes for such an abrupt audience, Light had failed to notice the mounted steps winding down to none swiftly. Atop the minuscule tower, the company had gathered—and of no small prestige were their garbs, and their emblems and weapons, too. Their posture bespoke discipline and virtue, nobility and elegance—yet might and authority were imparted more on some than others, all the same.

“Loetrliht Wintrammwyn,” the first booming voice beckoned. “You are come at last, for which you have my gratitude.”

Her golden hues would strain upwards, fending against the setting sun. A polite dip of her chin she saw fit to grant, yet naught further. Before her stood a Sea Wolf clad in steadfast armor—a lancer of high rank, if the eye deceived her not. In truth, she soon recognized the visage of one particular Aerstspyr Fyrterbyn, commander of the Autumn’s Lance, and personal envoy to the King himself. His crimson-golden mane gave him away from leagues on ahead, as did his authoritative glare all the same.

“Ah... Aye, I am come, swept once more off winding road and rippling wave, bound for home yet young a knave...” Light never took kindly to code and rules fit tightly enough to choke one’s life out, and Autumn’s Court would, come certain encounters, strike her no more, no less, as such.

“We shan’t waste your patience o’erlong. The council is set to begin soon.” Fyrterbyn issued a rigid slam of his fist against his breast in honoured greeting, his honeyed gaze glazing over the few empty seats yet remaining. Light, too, began to wonder as to where their occupants were—one in particular pestering her mind incessantly as of late.

“Master Fyrterbyn,” she abruptly chimed in, wrapping her hands together before her abdomen. “I shan’t be long.”

Awaiting neither reply nor permission, the swelling stubbornness in her mind implored her to retreat—and her receding step bore her down the well of stairs with greater haste than it saw her ascend the same shortly afore.

Wander. The one thing the Roegadyn had ever come to know. Wandering. Through bush and fern, thicket and verdant screen she’d strive onward, braving a longer road under the guidance of her instincts. At last, a clear lake would spread before her—the clash of water storming from a fall nearby tickling her ears with seductive nostalgia.

There she had come to meet him the first time—seated against the bark of a tree by the shore, deeply snared in slumber and contentment, with a mane as molten and blazing as his infernal namesake would suggest. The Moon loomed above his noggin, and the stars clung direly to the lake’s surface—a wall of mountains encircled the other end of the lake, from which the steady stream would seep and soar.

“Someone’s up awfully early.” A low, calm bass ripped her from the nostalgic current, however sweet and reassuring it might’ve tasted. Turning her glimpse over her shoulder, the female would spot the very same male with arms crossed beneath his pectorals, sporting a hint of amusement upon his lips. “Not that a wanderer’s token trait is aught but a restless nature.”

“D—Lord Rhotdornn,” swift to correct herself, the Sea Wolf would spring to her most convincing greeting yet—tapping her fingers against her collar, and gingerly dipping forwards. “The land whispered of thine steps, as I had come to hope it would.”

“You know...” Stretching a lax step onwards, the male would peer across the brilliant lakeside with his wit busied on another matter. “For someone so detached from rank and authority, you certainly invest no small amount of effort into your etiquette.” A small, coy smirk would creep up to the corner of his lip. “Worry naught. We’re by our lonesome. I’m still just Dornn.”

“Just Dornn.” She affirmatively rehearsed, her lips drinking in a sweeter smile of the words. “Well, just Dornn... Might thou tell me, then, what this meeting shall entail, given the perfume of urgency surround it?”

“I shall, yet it best be done on our trek back. The other lordlings will grow weary—or worse yet for some, bored—if we tarry too long. Come, let us away.” His albino-pale hand would extend to greet her own, which would lock their fingers together with nary a second wasted.

“...Arst thou hinting that Rhyll of Spring and Blyss of Summer shall attend, too?” Her voice, now laden with a string of curiosity and worry alike, inquired—yet a tug of his limb saw her worries quell. If all four of the representatives were summoned in one haven, the matter must not’ve been light, she deemed.

“Chance has it. Hopefully they’ve arrived in the meantime—I mean not to entertain Dhem’s and Rhyll’s unpleasant undertakings for long.”

“Very well. Hath aught changed with thy arrangements for the oncoming voyage?”

“Aye.” He sternly nodded, withdrawing a moderate breath into his lungs.

“The Lord of Autumn better not have grown shy on me.” She teasingly retorted, yet his own sentiment came swift and quiet; drawn in by the pull of his arm, she’d remain in his embrace, and the Sun would peer over the misty mountain tops, capped with drifts of snow, to see them joined in a heartfelt kiss—with the male submitting his heart to her, and in turn, being awarded with no shortage of her own. In the wake of such affection, a low whisper would pluck from his heart strings.

“I mean to spend my days with you. Yet, let us not delay now... We’ll dust over this matter once the company disbands. You’ll be spending the night here, I trust?”

“...Mm. Would that happen to be an invitation, or order milord?” She’d playfully probe him anew, setting unto the path that led them back.

“Depends on your answer.” And with that, the pair would march onward, with courage high and and affections burning bright within their youthful hearts, and in their trail, a breath of snow would dash; nipping at their heels would this silvery wind follow, as the day only began to unfold.

[mikesavagenewcanaan]

Mike Savage New Canaan| Ride the American Method an Unique 1932 Ford Roadster Rental Car

Hot-rodding is a popular American society. The sensation was first covered by magazines. Glossy print names such as The Rodders Journal, Racer Publication, Street Rodder, Popular Hot Rodding, and Rod as well as Customized Publication are just a few of the magazines that include this staple activity in the American life.

 Along with print, hot-rodding furthermore obtained gas mileage in the aesthetic wing of the media. Discovery Network included a lot of hot-rod documentaries such as Beast Garage, American Racer, as well as Overhaulin'. And also tv programs such as My Classic Car as well as Horse power TELEVISION also had actually devoted episodes on subjects about hot-rodding.

 Tom Wolfe discussed it in his publication "The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Child." Even the Beach Boys sang regarding it in "My Little Deuce Sports Car."

 Hot-rodding mostly started in the 1930's in Southern California where people began modifying light automobiles with huge engines as well as started racing them on the large and vacant lake beds northeast of Los Angeles. The original hot rods were old autos that were minimized to weigh much less and also enhance the rules of aerodynamics. After World War II, lots of tiny airports were deserted in the nation. Essentially, these places allowed hot rodders to race on significant training courses. The second world war likewise aided the hobby's appeal especially in The golden state where a lot of returning soldiers had actually been offered technical training in the solution to modify such cars.

Mike Savage New Canaan

At the heart of it all, the 1932 Ford Roadster was the auto that every hot-rodder wanted. It was the auto that altered the vehicle market permanently. It was basic, lean as well as it had a sought after good-looking body. It additionally had a very budget friendly engine, the V8, which compensated the 1932 Ford Roadster with the track record as the ideal vehicle for a nation that was consumed with speed.

 Yet after that similar to like every little thing else, hot-rodding's popularity began to wane. Auto shows and drag racing separated the hot-rodding area. Then Detroit released muscular tissue cars like the Plymouth Roadrunner and the Pontiac GTO. With these muscular tissue cars, there was much longer any type of demand to place a Cadillac engine in a Ford Roadster. The Pontiac GTO could outshine any type of hot rod and it supplied much more guest room. There was no more any need to spend time to develop as well as tune the car aside. The muscle autos had all of it.

But today, the hot rod culture resides on. As well as in January 2007, hod pole culture also celebrated its 75th anniversary by launching The 75 The majority of Prominent "1932 Ford Hot Rods". The listing was appointed by Ford where a panel of hot rod specialists evaluated some four hundred seventy-four worthwhile cars as well as pare it to seventy-five automobiles.

 So if you are interested to be part of the racer society, I advise you to initially try renting out the auto in one of vehicle rental dealerships in town. By leasing it you would have an example of experiencing the car, not simply in some classic showroom, however on the gravel itself. If you don't like it, you will not have any regrets because you can return it after renting. However if you like it (which I'm virtually certain you will), after that well as well as good.

 You might additionally wish to have a look at these auto rental suppliers' websites. Their web sites already use vehicle models, rates, rental authorities, special offers as well as reservations. Live out and be a part of the American Method a rental such as the 1932 Ford Roadster. This is the American Means as you know it, uncover it first hand on your unique vehicle rental.

[poem-today]

A poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Dejection: An Ode

Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon, 

With the old Moon in her arms;

And I fear, I fear, my Master dear! 

We shall have a deadly storm. 

(Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence) 

                         I Well! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made       The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence,       This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes, Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes Upon the strings of this Æolian lute,                Which better far were mute.         For lo! the New-moon winter-bright!         And overspread with phantom light,         (With swimming phantom light o'erspread         But rimmed and circled by a silver thread) I see the old Moon in her lap, foretelling         The coming-on of rain and squally blast. And oh! that even now the gust were swelling,         And the slant night-shower driving loud and fast! Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed,                And sent my soul abroad, Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give, Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live!                            II A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear,         A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief,         Which finds no natural outlet, no relief,                In word, or sigh, or tear— O Lady! in this wan and heartless mood, To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,         All this long eve, so balmy and serene, Have I been gazing on the western sky,         And its peculiar tint of yellow green: And still I gaze—and with how blank an eye! And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, That give away their motion to the stars; Those stars, that glide behind them or between, Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen: Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue; I see them all so excellently fair, I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!                            III                My genial spirits fail;                And what can these avail To lift the smothering weight from off my breast?                It were a vain endeavour,                Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.                            IV O Lady! we receive but what we give, And in our life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud!         And would we aught behold, of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd,         Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud                Enveloping the Earth— And from the soul itself must there be sent         A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element!                              V O pure of heart! thou need'st not ask of me What this strong music in the soul may be! What, and wherein it doth exist, This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist, This beautiful and beauty-making power.         Joy, virtuous Lady! Joy that ne'er was given, Save to the pure, and in their purest hour, Life, and Life's effluence, cloud at once and shower, Joy, Lady! is the spirit and the power, Which wedding Nature to us gives in dower         A new Earth and new Heaven, Undreamt of by the sensual and the proud— Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud—                We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight,         All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light.                            VI There was a time when, though my path was rough,         This joy within me dallied with distress, And all misfortunes were but as the stuff         Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness: For hope grew round me, like the twining vine, And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine. But now afflictions bow me down to earth: Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth;                But oh! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at my birth,         My shaping spirit of Imagination. For not to think of what I needs must feel,         But to be still and patient, all I can; And haply by abstruse research to steal         From my own nature all the natural man—         This was my sole resource, my only plan: Till that which suits a part infects the whole, And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.                            VII Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,                Reality's dark dream! I turn from you, and listen to the wind,         Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream Of agony by torture lengthened out That lute sent forth! Thou Wind, that rav'st without,         Bare crag, or mountain-tairn, or blasted tree, Or pine-grove whither woodman never clomb, Or lonely house, long held the witches' home,         Methinks were fitter instruments for thee, Mad Lutanist! who in this month of showers, Of dark-brown gardens, and of peeping flowers, Mak'st Devils' yule, with worse than wintry song, The blossoms, buds, and timorous leaves among.         Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds! Thou mighty Poet, e'en to frenzy bold!                What tell'st thou now about?                'Tis of the rushing of an host in rout,         With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds— At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold! But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence!         And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd, With groans, and tremulous shudderings—all is over—         It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud!                A tale of less affright,                And tempered with delight, As Otway's self had framed the tender lay,—                'Tis of a little child                Upon a lonesome wild, Nor far from home, but she hath lost her way: And now moans low in bitter grief and fear, And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear.                           VIII 'Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep: Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep! Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,         And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,         Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!                With light heart may she rise,                Gay fancy, cheerful eyes,         Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice; To her may all things live, from pole to pole, Their life the eddying of her living soul!         O simple spirit, guided from above, Dear Lady! friend devoutest of my choice, Thus mayest thou ever, evermore rejoice. 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

1772-1834