#Blue Bird Cafe

[wild-adventures]

Unleashing Nashville's Legendary Music Scene:

Must-See Iconic Clubs for Music Lovers

Shawna Loree

Nashville, Tennessee, is widely recognized as the beating heart of the music industry, earning its title as the Music City. With a rich history rooted in country, rock, and blues, this vibrant city is a haven for music lovers.

While there's no shortage of live music venues, there are a handful of iconic clubs that have played a significant role in shaping Nashville's legendary music scene. If you're a true music aficionado visiting Nashville, these are the must-see clubs that will immerse you in the city's unparalleled musical heritage.

1. Ryman Auditorium: Known as the "Mother Church of Country Music," Ryman Auditorium is a Nashville icon and a must-visit for any music lover. 

This historic venue has hosted legendary performances by iconic artists like Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, and Patsy Cline. Its remarkable acoustics and charming atmosphere make it an unforgettable place to experience live music.

2. Bluebird Cafe: A small and intimate venue with a big reputation, the Bluebird Cafe has gained worldwide recognition as a songwriter's haven. 

This cozy spot has been the birthplace of countless hits and has seen performances by renowned songwriters such as Taylor Swift and Garth Brooks. Prepare to be captivated by the raw talent and storytelling prowess of Nashville's songwriters in this legendary club.

3. Tootsie's Orchid Lounge: Steeped in history, Tootsie's Orchid Lounge is a honky-tonk institution that has been a staple of Nashville's music scene since the 1960s. 

Located just steps away from the Ryman Auditorium, this iconic club has welcomed aspiring musicians and hosted impromptu jam sessions by legendary artists. Drop in for some boot-stomping country music and soak up the rich musical heritage within its walls.

4. The Station Inn: For bluegrass enthusiasts, The Station Inn is a hidden gem that holds a special place in Nashville's music culture. 

This unassuming club has been a gathering spot for world-class bluegrass musicians and enthusiasts since 1974. Prepare to be mesmerized by virtuosic performances and the lively atmosphere that embodies the spirit of this traditional American genre.

5. 3rd & Lindsley: A favorite among locals, 3rd & Lindsley is a versatile venue that caters to a variety of musical genres. 

From rock and blues to soul and Americana, this club hosts an eclectic mix of performances by both established and up-and-coming artists. With its cozy ambiance and exceptional sound quality, 3rd & Lindsley is a music lover's paradise.

6. Mercy Lounge: Situated in Nashville's vibrant Gulch neighborhood, Mercy Lounge is a hotspot for indie rock and alternative music. 

This energetic club has welcomed both local talent and national acts, making it an essential stop for those seeking a taste of Nashville's alternative music scene. Get ready to dance the night away to infectious beats and discover the next big thing in music.

7. The Basement East: Following its devastating destruction in the 2020 tornado, The Basement East made a triumphant return, showcasing Nashville's resilience and love for music. 

This beloved venue hosts a diverse range of genres, including rock, punk, and Americana. With its laid-back atmosphere and commitment to supporting local talent, The Basement East is a true gem in Nashville's music landscape.

8. Exit/In: A pillar of Nashville's rock and roll history, Exit/In has been hosting iconic performances since the 1970s. 

From rock legends like Elvis Costello to emerging indie acts, this venue has seen it all. Its intimate setting and storied past make it a must-visit for those seeking an authentic rock and roll experience in Music City. If you have not made the pilgrimage - don't lose your chance, the future for this place in history may be coming to a close.

9. The Listening Room Cafe: Dedicated to showcasing the art of songwriting, The Listening Room Cafe offers an intimate and immersive experience for music enthusiasts. 

This cozy club features both established and up-and-coming songwriters, allowing them to share their stories and melodies in an intimate setting. Prepare to be moved by the power of words and melodies in this songwriter's paradise.

10. The Blue Room at Third Man Records: Owned by music icon Jack White, Third Man Records is a haven for vinyl enthusiasts and lovers of all things analog. 

The Blue Room, located within the record store, is a hidden gem where intimate live performances take place. Immerse yourself in the unique world of Third Man Records, where the spirit of music and creativity intertwine.

In conclusion Nashville's iconic clubs are not just venues; they are the living, breathing soul of the city's music scene. Whether you're a fan of country, rock, blues, or any other genre, these legendary clubs offer an opportunity to witness the magic and authenticity of Nashville's musical heritage. So, grab your tickets, step inside these hallowed halls, and let the music transport you on a journey through the heart and soul of Music City.

#travel #nashville #tennessee #music city #shawna loree #shezanenigma #wildgirl #wild girl #adventure #adventures #songwriting #singing #ryman auditorium #blue bird cafe #tootsies orchid lounge #the station inn #3rd and lindsay #mercy lounge #the basement east #exit/in #the listening room cafe #the blue room #third man records #music row #broadway #top ten nashville #wanderlust

[lightbluefoods]

#petrichoro #blue food #donuts #butterfly #bird #home cafe

[oatbugs]

non-zero amount of swans and a non-zero amount of lakes.

#pretty pretty day #red leaves turning yellow the sun is so bright the breeze isnt too cold #i get to walk past all my friends houses on my way to a really cute study cafe . walk past a bubble tea place walk through tree lined #streets . sun against my friends window so i cant see if she could see me. today there was a double rainbow #in the sky from misty rain. so many squirrels and birds and rabbits and deer #i have a deadline soon and im massively behind bc im lucky enough to be able to do too much. need to #write an essay and do maths problem sets. smile + wave at ppl you know. last night i met a rly cute girl #and i dont think its gonna go anywhere but ill think abt her from time to time from now on #there is someone in front of me with bright blue hair. someone with their knuckles wrapped in bandages. two boys holding hands. #today people are dying but it is the 40th day of her death which means it is the 40th day of the revolution which is the 40th day of #not giving up. meanwhile the sun casts halos on a the wings of a magpie + a fresh pomegrante waits in the kitchen. #i have freshly cut watermelons in my fridge. there are so many flowers here. there are swans in the lakes. #my hair is a mess in the wind and forgetting a lot of things. my vision is declining and so i must remember the definition of leaves #before it's too late. one thing determinate from the other. #water reflects red. there are two girls feeding the birds. so many pretty people running into the same building. #youre cut from a different cloth. you especially are cut from silk. #you hate philosophy for its messy discourse and love maths for the clear consesus it produces. i only feel a little guilty #for laughing at that. last year two professors in functional analysis fought on blackboards until it became a team sport. a paper agains #a paper against. a paper against the paper for the against. on the walls for st joseph of cupertino we both pray for some mercy. offer up #some beautiful quantifier and i will drown inside it. break fresh chalk just for you.

[picavecalyx]

      “ le café est meilleur. ”

#ic ;; blue bird bloom #;; dash commentary ;; #yeah no she prefers coffee; have you seen her dad???? he literally owns a cafe

[theartofangirling]

part 3 of the 2023 version of this post: adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 2: young adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

yerba buena by nina lacour

if we were villains by m.l. rio

everyone in this room will someday be dead by emily r. austin

i want to be a wall by honami shirono

portrait of a thief by grace d. li

the thirty names of night by zeyn joukhadar

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong

love & other disasters by anita kelly

take a hint, dani brown by talia hibbert

boyfriend material by alexis hall

almost like being in love by steve kluger

the charm offensive by alison cochrun

something wild & wonderful by anita kelly

red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston

something to talk about by meryl wilsner

honey girl by morgan rogers

one last stop by casey mcquiston

once ghosted, twice shy by alyssa cole

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

a spindle splintered by alix e. harrow

finna by nino cipri

every heart a dooryway by seanan mcguire

the starless sea by erin morgenstern

under the whispering door by tj klune

space opera by catherynne m. valente

light from uncommon stars by ryka aoki

dead collections by isaac fellman

the city we became by n.k. jemisin

light carries on by ray nadine

an absolutely remarkable thing by hank green

feed them silence by lee mandelo

summer sons by lee mandelo

upright women wanted by sarah gailey

lavender house by lev a.c. rosen

fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe by fannie flagg

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

a master of djinn by p. djeli clark

witchmark by c.l. polk

a marvellous light by freya marske

a restless truth by freya marske

when women were dragons by kelly barnhill

plain bad heroines by emily m. danforth

a lady for a duke by alexis hall

infamous by lex croucher

passing strange by ellen klages

even though i knew the end by c.l. polk

the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo

whiskey when we're dry by john larison

wake of vultures by lila bowen

silver in the wood by emily tesh

the once and future witches by alix e. harrow

the kingdoms by natasha pulley

a tip for the hangman by allison epstein

she who became the sun by shelley parker-chan

the song of achilles by madeline miller

spear by nicola griffith

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir

some desperate glory by emily tesh

all systems red by martha wells

a psalm for the wild built by becky chambers

the mimicking of known successes by malka older

winter's orbit by everina maxwell

fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard

empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo

legends and lattes by travis baldree

the house in the cerulean sea by tj klune

other ever afters by melanie gillman

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon

a day of fallen night by samantha shannon

a strange and stubborn endurance by foz meadows

the unbroken by c.l. clark

real queer america by samantha allen

fun home by alison bechdel

in the dream house by carmen maria machado

better living through birding by christian cooper

why fish don't exist by lulu miller

#lgbtq+ books #queer books #book recommendations #gay books #book flow chart #part 3 of 3! #AND THAT'S IT oh my god this took me days #mp

[amtrak-official]

Hey, do not attempt to fuck the tall woman in the white lace dress, boots and a black trenchcoat with the large blue hat whose holding an old fashioned breifcase and a bird on her shoulder thats seating 3 seats ahead of you. She has a gun and is on her way to kill her husband. I would suggest that instead you fuck the old lady in the observation car or the butch in the Cafe car.

[auto-tuned-aegislash]

I wanna make a 2 rainbow quest ocs

#Hear me out #Green steve who is also owns a cat Cafe #And a bird like eldritch horror poseing as a weird looking blue steve child #Good idea right?

[thevoidstaredback]

It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

#dp dc crossover #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc comics #dcu #dc #billy batson #shazam #ghost king danny #magic #coffee #cafe #I don't drink coffee #I don't even go to cafes #Idk if that's how it works #it is now #in this economy? #Hopefully #protection sigil #I made that up on the spot with very little research #If anyone draws it please tag me #Do we like where this is going? #part 3 #Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

[dcmontreal]

Blue Bird Cafe Fire 50th Anniversary

Blue Bird Cafe Fire 50th Anniversary #Montreal #BlueBirdCafe

Welcome to September. Fifty years ago on September 1, 1972, a Friday, Montrealers, in fact, Canadians across the country, were eagerly anticipating the much ballyhooed Summit Series between a team of Canada’s best NHL hockey players and what we erroneously thought would be a ragtag group from the Soviet Union. Canadians across the country, were eagerly anticipating the much ballyhooed Summit…

View On WordPress

#Blue Bird Cafe Fire #montreal

[disabled-dragoon]

The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz 

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

---

With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

---

Submit a Book:

#disability resources #disability #chronic illness #disability books #books #resources #book list #disability literature #literature #disability representation #disabled characters #information #informative #disability education #disability history #disability rights #please add to this #to be updated #long post

[cuubism]

physical therapy, part 5

--

Dream has been working with the modelling clay. Hob was right, it is more soothing and enjoyable than simple exercises, which mostly serve to remind him of his deficits. With the clay, he can make small figurines, and has been making cats and birds of all colors, firing them in the oven and arraying them on top of the kitchen cabinets. They add a few more small spots of color to the gray tones of his flat.

He has also been painting again, trying out a new technique with a larger brush that is easier to hold. It is strange, to work in broad swathes of color instead of the tiny details he is used to. But. Interesting. It makes him think more in shapes and general shades, the simple layering of light.

He is painting cats again. He has always wanted a cat, but some instinct always stopped him from following through. Now, he thinks that deep down, he had been afraid of what might befall it. His home had not been safe for a small animal. Nor for Dream.

This cat, he thinks, is mischievous and clever. He thinks he might give the painting to Hob, except it is not yet done.

For now, he goes, nerves prickling in his stomach, to the coffee shop Hob had suggested. He has not dated someone new in a long time. He is not certain what he is supposed to do. He does not know how to impress Hob. He does not know how to make Hob want him.

At least he can be assured that his current imperfections will not be a problem. Hob already knows about them. He already knows about a lot of things that are wrong with Dream.

Still, he dresses in one of his nicest outfits--it's new, actually, like most of his clothes, but he likes it nevertheless. Hopefully Hob will as well.

He goes to the cafe. He is a bit late, after dithering nervously outside for some time, and so Hob is already waiting for him. He looks uncertain, but then brightens when he spots Dream.

He looks... nice. Dream is used to seeing him in athletic wear. Now, he is in dark jeans and a jumper that looks very warm and soft. His hair is loose instead of tied back; Dream hadn't realized how long it actually was. He wonders, as he walks over, if Hob might hug him again.

And then he does. He pulls Dream into his arms without hesitation, and his body is very solid, his jumper, indeed, very soft. Dream makes a quiet, wanting noise, and Hob only squeezes him tighter.

"Hi, darling," he says. "You look lovely." Darling. For having expressed that he doesn't want to move too fast, he is being rather generously affectionate in how he treats Dream.

"Hello," Dream says quietly, and then Hob bids him sit down while he orders coffee and pastries for them, because he is apparently determined to be chivalrous. He's also sat them in the corner of the room. Kind. Considerate. All things Dream's ex had never been. He wonders if he should have expected such treatment all along.

Hob returns with coffee and some sort of small quiche-like pastries for them. Dream rather tends towards sweets but he has also not recently consumed anything that could be considered as having "nutritional value"--packaged biscuits hardly count--and so he considers this good judgement.

Dream takes a sip of his coffee. This, at least, is gratifyingly sweet. Then he says, "I have something for you."

His painting is not yet ready, but he's brought a tiny figurine for Hob. He passes Hob the tiny cat from his bag. It's one of the more elaborate ones, mixed blue and red clay in a tuxedo pattern. Hob smiles as he takes it. "You made that from the clay?"

"I made many. They are parading about my flat."

"Good." Hob sets the little cat on the table by his coffee. "How's the hand?"

This time Dream shows him without hesitation. Hob takes his hand, nodding in approval when Dream demonstrates the range of motion.

"I still fear it is not quite right," Dream admits, though he can concede that it is much improved, and rarely hurts at all now.

"Patience," Hob says, though not without sympathy. He is right, of course, only Dream is... a bit frustrated. When it had first happened, he had mostly been... numb. Then, for a while, hurt. Confused. It is only months later, and perhaps because Hob's kindness has been illuminating, that something hotter, more like anger has trickled in. Anger with his ex, perhaps, though that is still strange to feel. Anger mostly with himself, for not seeing it. Frustration that he has gotten himself into this.

But he tries to put it aside for now. He wants to enjoy being with Hob.

Only... "I confess that... I do not quite know how to do this," he says, with some hesitance.

"This?" Hob asks.

"Dating. If that is what we are doing."

"Is that what you want?"

Hesitantly, Dream nods. It is. He thinks that perhaps Hob was right, and the more reasonable decision would be to wait longer. He thinks that if he hadn't met Hob, he would not have dated for a very long time, indeed. But it feels so monumental to accept what he wants. And... good. Tentatively.

"Okay, then," Hob agrees.

"You... have not told me what you want," Dream points out.

Hob chuckles, wincing. "Ouch, you're right. Well, I wanted to hear it from you first, anyway." He's still holding Dream's hand, and squeezes it lightly. "Yes, of course I want to date you. I thought you were so pretty from the moment I first saw you. Didn't say it then, for obvious reasons. And on top of that, I think you're lovely all around, and a fabulous artist, and I admire so much how you've picked yourself back up."

"You do not know everything about me," Dream says, though truly he's stuck on pretty, lovely.

"...That's the point of dating."

Oh. Perhaps it is.

Well, if they are doing compliments, he can play, too. "I think you are very kind. And quite good with your hands."

Hob laughs, and Dream feels a blush rise to his cheeks. He... did not actually mean it to be innuendo, but perhaps he does not mind so much if it is.

"Well, thank you," Hob says, which only makes Dream blush more.

Mercifully, Hob changes the subject by pushing one of the little quiches across the table toward him. "Try this. They're really good here."

Dream has not yet explored this neighborhood much. His prior flat had been on the other side of the city. He will have to take Hob's word for what is worth trying.

He picks up his fork--alas, another test of his dexterity, though not so ambitious as chopsticks--and takes a bite of the quiche.

It is good, egg and cheese and spinach, and the crust is so flaky he loses some of the crumbs and has to lick his lower lip to catch them. Hob watches him, half merely fond, half tracking the swipe of his tongue. But when Dream meets his eyes again he just smiles brightly.

"It is very good," Dream confirms, "especially considering my recent diet has consisted mainly of biscuits."

This makes Hob laugh. "I'll have to cook for you some time, then. Can't have you living like that."

He's kind and handsome and he can cook. What a catch. It sounds like Desire's voice. Unlike your last one, hm, Dream? The thought is fond rather than annoyed, though, not least because he's now forced to agree. Desire had never liked his ex-boyfriend, but based on their general track record Dream hadn't been particularly inclined to listen to their advice. But Desire has always had a more intuitive sense of people than he has.

"I would like that," he says, and Hob beams. He is easy to please. It's a welcome contrast.

Over the course of the date he manages to learn more about Hob, outside of his work as a physical therapist. He goes to the gym a lot, which Dream probably could have predicted. Perhaps he will see if he can tag along some time. Exercise is not exactly his strong suit but he thinks he might like to be... stronger. So that if someone comes at him again, he could escape.

He also learns that Hob wants kids but hasn't pursued it strongly as he cares more about having the right partner. It's something that Dream wants, too, but had always been hesitant and nervous about in his prior relationship, even more deeply than his instinctive hesitance about having a pet. He remembers at one point feeling grateful that he was not a person who could become pregnant. Which. Should probably have been a red flag. In retrospect.

He's realizing a lot of things in retrospect.

Overall Hob's life seems very... stable and consistent. Which is perhaps what Dream needs right now.

Partway through the afternoon, Hob stops and says, "You seem cold."

Dream is, perhaps, slightly regretting how thin his shirt is. It is not quite summer, yet. But it does look good, and that had felt more important when he was getting dressed.

"I suppose," he admits, "but it is--"

Hob is already pulling off his jumper and handing it to him. Dream stares at him incredulously, but finally, hesitantly, takes it. "You will be cold," he says.

"Nah. I run hot anyway."

So Dream puts the jumper on, and the corners of Hob's eyes crinkle as he smiles, and Dream wonders if perhaps giving it to Dream is bringing Hob more joy than being properly protected against the cold.

"Thank you," he says, twisting his hands in the sleeves. It really is very soft, and warmed by Hob's body. And. He finds that it is making him happy. Not only being warmer. But that Hob wanted to make him feel warmer.

Later on, Hob walks Dream home again. At his door, Hob leans in to kiss his cheek, as he had once before--but Dream turns his head and catches his lips instead. He can't help it. Hob laughs, but lets him, holding Dream's face between his hands, kissing him light and sweet, but with definite banked intent. It stirs something low in Dream's belly, and he makes a happy sound against Hob's lips.

He almost wants to invite Hob in, but senses it might be a bad idea, and that Hob would likely decline anyway. Another time. And maybe by then Dream will have his flat looking more like someone actually lives there.

"Your jumper," he realizes, as Hob pulls away. He's still wearing it.

"Keep it," Hob tells him, then grins. "Until you see me again."

He truly does have a way of drawing Dream in again and again, without ever truly making him feel pulled.

"Soon, then, so you won't freeze," Dream says, and Hob laughs.

"Soon," he agrees. Then, as usual, "Goodnight, Dream."

It is not quite night, but it still feels a fitting send off.

"Goodnight," Dream murmurs, once Hob's gone. Tucks his nose into Hob's jumper, taking in his scent. Then retreats back into his flat.

#dream: i came out here to have a good time and i'm feeling a little attacked by The Realizations #physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #slow burnnnn...

[rblooms]

The Love That Slipped Away.

this is part two of my previous story the love we lost.

Description: (Gojo x Reader) It's been a year since Satoru Gojo cheated on you. He thought it wouldn't hurt when you left him. He soon realized that you were the one for him.

Warnings: 18+, Strong language, MINORS DNI!

part 1 linked here

Days have been extremely dull and gray. Satoru has done nothing but work, exorcise curses, go home and rest. It's the same cycle every day. Sure, his oh so beloved Amy was there with him, but it wasn't the same. You would always lighten up a room with a smile, But Amy didn't. Satoru and Amy didn't have anything in common other than their sex life. Ever since you left him, he's been nothing but an empty shell of who he was. You took his heart with him that day.

He thought he would be better off with Amy but he was so very wrong. Amy was nothing but a pretty face with no personality. Satoru's students disliked Amy. They would always ask for you.

"Sensei! Where's Y/n?"

"I wish y/n was here."

"I miss Y/n!"

He has no clue where you are or what you have been up to. You blocked his number and social media accounts. He obviously tried looking you up but was always met disappointment when you were nowhere to be found.

A few months later. It was mid spring when Amy had cheated on him with another man. Satoru was heartbroken shattered even. Amy had left a wound on his heart. He truly did love her. His world was all about her but what is his world now that his left? He was left ruined and alone in the place he once called "home". He sat on his bed lost in thought. Heart now broken in pieces.

"Is this how y/n felt?"

He had finally felt what you felt the day you find out he was unfaithful. It was an awful feeling. It was a stomach-churning feeling. His beautiful blue eyes had opened. He realized what he lost. What he let slip away. He took your love for granted. You were meant for him. You were his person. You saw much more to Satoru other than the strongest and a pretty face. Memories of you and him being happy together flooded his mind. Tears filled his angelic cerulean eyes. He sobbed and sobbed till no more tears fell from his eyes. His porcelain skin was stained with tear streaks. His ocean like eyes were now red and puffy. His snow liked hair was disheveled and ruined.

Was it worth it? He chose a girl with a pretty face. A good fuck. Were his friends and students, right? Did he really just pick a doll face over the most extravagant person who always bighted a room with just their presence alone? Whose voice and smile always made his heart flutter like a bird in cage ready to burst. His warm bed that he once shared with you was now cold and barren. When was the last time he got a proper goodnight sleep?

He would do anything to get you back. no matter how long it takes. He has to see his other person. The person who still has heart.

He walked around the streets of Tokyo. He looked at the Stores and Cafes nearby. The cherry blossoms where in full bloom. Streets were covered in beautiful pink leaves. He eyed the Pastries that people were handing out. The sweet fruity delightful aroma of the pastries filled his nostrils. There was on peculiar scent that caught his attention. It was your scent. That sweet scent you always had. It was as if spring had blossomed all over you. He would never forget that sweet scent you always had.

His eyes widen and he looked to where the scent was. His eyes rapidly scanned over everyone. All he could hear was the sound of his heart beating. His eyes fell on your beautiful smile. There you were. God, you looked so mesmerizing. You were glowing. A sight for sore eyes even. His cerulean eyes were focused on you. The pink petals that flew in the wind complimented you so damn much. He has fallen for you all over again.

He was so happy he has finally seen you after so long. He walked towards you. His heart was pounding like crazy with each step he took.

"Y-Y/n..? is it really you...?" He spoke softly but loud enough to make you look at his direction. His heart skipped a beat. Your beautiful colored eyes stared at his disgustingly beautiful eyes.

"Satoru." You replied with a nonchalant voice. His heart ached with the emptiness in your voice. Your voice used to be sweet like an angel.

"You look good." Satoru complimented you with a soft smile but all it left was a sour taste in your mouth.

"Don't try to sweet talk me" You scoffed at him. Satoru awkwardly smiled.

"It's good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same" There was a hint of sadness in your voice.

"L-Look I just wanted to-" Satoru was caught off by a voice coming from behind you.

"Sorry sweetie the line was really long." A tall man with long black hair with weird bangs and black circle stud earrings approached you. The unknown man gave you a gentle kiss on your cheek while he wrapped his arms around you. He had a pastry package with him.

"Oh? Satoru what are you doing here?" Satoru got a better look at the man Infront of him. It was his best friend Suguru Geto. They were friends back in high school before they separated ways.

"Suguru? What are YOU doing here?" Satoru was caught completely off guard. Why was his best friend here with his beloved? So many questions swirled in his head.

"I'm here shopping with my lover" Suguru wrapped his muscular arm around your waist pulling you into his side keeping you in a secure grasp. Satoru had jealousy and sadness in his bright blue eyes. Seeing you with another man had his heart aching. Your sweet warm smile wasn't for him anymore. He is no longer the man you wake up to every day. That should've been HIM by your side. Not Suguru.

"You guys know each other?" You asked your boyfriend Suguru turning your face to look at his beautiful face. He was smiling. "We have some history from back in our high school days. Long story short he's my best friend." Suguru gave you a warm smile. "So, who is he to you?" Suguru asked you with sweet smile.

"He's the unfaithful ex-boyfriend I've told you about." You said with a sigh. Satoru's heart twisted with sadness and guilt at the word "unfaithful". He eyes didn't dare to meet your eyes. He knew what he had done. How could he ever get you back? There's no way he would be able to call you his again. The guilt that drowned him was enough to make him puke.

"Oh, so Satoru is the man that crushed your heart all those months ago?" Suguru was looking at Satoru with nothing with disappointment. "I'll admit Satoru. I never expected this from you. How did you let such a sweet person slip through your fingers like sand. Hm well, I guess if it wasn't for your fuck up, I wouldn't have landed such a lovely person."

Suguru looked at his white-haired friend. Satoru looked ruined as he finally faced the music. "I never meant for shit to turn out like this. Fuck! I'm so sorry Y/n. I know an apology isn't going to change the fact I hurt you. I know we can't fix shit between us. I finally realized how much you loved me. You were my everything and still are. You gave me your all. I was pathetic to not treat you the same way. But I've lost you now. Even though I'm not the one who's going to be by your side anymore at least someone will." Tears fell from his Ocean colored eyes falling onto the pale sidewalk. People looked the commotion happening but carried on their day.

You looked at Satoru as he silently began wiping his tears. Suguru's grasp around your waist tightened. Suddenly, the memories you tried so hard to forget came back. The day you ended things with Satoru. The day your heart was shattered to pieces. The one fucking day you saw him and his girlfriend passionately making love. skin on skin. lips on lips. hand in hand. It all came back to you. You watched as the man in front you broke down in tears. His eyes becoming puffy. His blue ironed button up was now wrinkled and stained with tears.

You grabbed Suguru's hand and intertwined it with yours. He let go of the grasp he had you in. You looked at the broken man Infront of you.

"I wanted you and only you. But you wanted something more. And I couldn't give you that. You made your decision when you picked her over me. I gave you my word, my loyalty, my trust. But you didn't give me anything. I always ate dinner alone waiting for your arrival, but you would eat another womans dinner and share a warm meal together. Where was I when you went to her house to fuck? Was I even a priority to you? I was questioning my worth every damn night. The lipstick stains on your neck and clothes never went unnoticed. I begged for your attention for you to look at me again, but you never batted an eye. I was never important to you Satoru. I never was. The nights I slept alone and cold in our shared bed were always the worst nights ever. You only started caring once I left." You looked at him once more before turning around and walking away with your boyfriend hand in hand.

Satoru can only stare with tears running down his face. He was an idiot to come looking for you. He was an idiot losing you in the first place. Your words struck his heart. He looked at you as your walking away from him. He has to live with the guilt of betraying you. He managed to pick himself up and head home. The sky turned gray, and rain started pouring. He hopes the rain will wash away his sorrow. No one will ever replace you again. His love that slipped away. Maybe one day. just maybe you will comeback. Until then he'll wait for you with open arms.

Thanks for reading!!

Bloo Note: Hey guys so sorry for part 2 coming out so late. I was not gonna make "The Love We Lost" a part 2 originally lolol. BUT I did mange making a part two while juggling school. Ending was INSANLEY rushed but hope u guys eat this up (or hate it idc). credit to the people who made the dividers!! taglist: @kawaiivillainess98

#jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk imagine #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #geto suguru #angst #anime #cheating boyfriend #jujutsu kaisen

[got-ticket-to-ride]

John chanelling a french singer (in an audio from late 1970s) and talking about "their time" in Paris

Starts at 1:00: My cheri my pau pau My pau pau laughing Do you remember when we were at a cafe on the left bank? You could not find your garter? Because it was on your little prod, You naughty little cheri Thank your bon for little birds Ahhh, my god it's so high up there You know you can't really do that to yourself You'll get yourself diseased La La La…

John moves on to sing Elvis Presley's version of "Blue Moon" changing the lyrics to:

"blue moon, you left me standing alone without a dog or a bone, without a reasonable chance at recurring."

Also posted this one on yt

#Mclennon #John and Paul #Paul Mccartney #John Lennon #Subtitles/editing by me - forgive me for any mistakes! #paris #1964 #gttr-beatles

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it's not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

The tea shop hasn’t called back. Or the grocery store. Not even the cafe around the corner. 

You’re tired. You’ve been sending out resumes for months. Reviewing and editing and sending again. You don’t get it. You have the proper credential and you have a decent amount of experience. It’s just been a while.  

You want to assume that people just aren’t hiring but that wouldn’t explain the postings and re-postings. They are still looking but somehow you’re just not good enough on paper. Disappointment knots in your throat as your inbox reveals no new emails. You need something. Even a job at the burger joint will do. 

You grab your phone and sigh. You stand and shut the laptop lid as you tuck your cell into your back pocket. You go down the short hall and knock on the bedroom door. 

“Delaney? You up?” You call through. 

You get a groan in return. Sometimes that’s all you get. 

“Alright, I’m gonna open the door,” you warn as you twist the knob slowly. 

You push inside and reach to flip on the light switch. Your sister grumbles against and covers her face with her arm. The windows are covered with dark curtains that give a blue hue even when the space is lit. She hids behind her forearm as you near the bottom of her bed. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask. 

“I’d love some coffee,” the croaks. 

“How ya feeling?” You grab her walker and move it parallel with the side of the bed. 

“It’s a rough one,” she warns and drags her arm away from her face. “I don’t wanna get up.” 

You nod and trail your fingers along the top of the walker, “if you don’t wanna...” 

“No, I should,” she insists. 

She braces herself visibly, closing her eyes as her cheeks strain and she sits up with a grunt. He arms shake and she kicks the blankets of her legs. Her movement is awkward and stiff. You hate seeing her struggle like this. You know she’s just as unhappy about you seeing it. That’s why she’s so stubborn. 

“Should be enough left for another cup but I can make a new pot?” You offer as you hold the walker steady and she grips it, pulling herself to her feet. She hunches slightly and tries to stretch out her legs. 

“My feet are numb,” she stomps one foot then the other. “Annoying.” She scowls and shakes her head as you let go of the walker and step back. She turns it sharply and lumbers forward with the aid of the wheels, “I can have the leftovers.” 

Patiently, you follow her to the door and into the hall. She wheels her way to the table and angles herself into the chair with her special cushion on it. She’s out of breath. 

You go into the kitchen to give her some time to recover. You try your best to give her space, even in the one-bedroom. You sleep on the couch while she gets the bedroom. It makes sense, especially since lately her stipend has been covering most of your expenses. 

You fill a mug for her and grab her pill box. You bring both to her and set them on the table. She takes the coffee first and swigs. She sighs as she sets it down heavily then snatches the box. She pops open the lid for that day of the week and scoops out the tablets. She sneers before she gulps them down with another mouthful of coffee. 

“So, you were up early?” She prompts. 

“You know I’m a morning bird.” 

“Eh, yeah, wish I had that problem,” she mutters. Some days, she sleeps more than she’s awake. You tell her it’s part of her diagnosis but she won’t accept that. You can understand that but you know you can’t really understand. You’re not her. 

“Yeah, well, the birds wake me up,” you shrug.  

A sudden buzzing ripple in your pocket. You pull your phone out of the loose sweatpants and look at the screen. It’s a number you don’t know. You doubt it’s important but you can’t risk missing any calls. 

“Gimme a sec,” you hold up a finger and turn away. “Probably the building or something.” You tap the screen and put the phone to your ear, “hello?” 

“Hello,” a deep voice rumbles over a calamity of noises, some metallic, others humming, “oh, apologies, give me a moment.” You wait as you hear movement on the other end and the cacophony finally subsides, “ah, much better. Is this...” 

You blink and confirm that he has the right number. 

“Wonderful, I apologise for the early call but I tend to get started with the sun,” he explains, “anyhow, I was only just reviewing CVs and you are on my list of candidates. When would be a good day for an interview?” 

You turn back and glance at Delaney. She sips her coffee as she pulls the laptop close. She opens it and squints at it before she clicks. She scrolls as you watch her. 

“Um, well, I could um, any day,” you answer, trying not to seem to desperate. 

“Today?” He asks, “it’s a bit ridiculous but I wouldn’t mind getting it over with.” 

“S-sure,” you answer, surprised by the suddenness. It's as if the universe had sensed you were about to give up. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I... got your name.” 

“Oh, yes, I did dive in head first. Thor Odinson, at Golden Crust bakery. You applied as a decorator?” 

“Y-yeah, I remember,” you assure him, “just wanna make sure I get to the right place. Uh, thanks, um, what time should I be there?” 

“Is noon doable?” He asks. 

“Noon it is,” you say, barely containing your excitement. You try not to let it overflow, you don’t want to get all worked up for another rejection. 

“Excellent, I will see you then,” he confirms, “now, excuse me, I think my sourdough has burnt.” 

The line clicks and you lower the phone, staring at it. The tapping of Delaney’s fingers on the keyboard are the only noise amidst the the stunned silence. It’s great you got an interview but what do you wear? 

“Hm, job hunt not going so well?” Delaney suggests as she leans into the screen. 

“Actually, just got a call for one,” you go to the table and put your phone down. “I have an interview.” 

“You do?” Her eyes flash as she looks up, a rare glimmer of happiness. “That’s awesome!” 

“Uh, yeah, but it’s at noon so... I’ll have to leave for a bit.” 

“Sounds good to me,” she scoffs, “perfect time to party.” 

You roll your eyes, “you’re silly.” 

“Well, you know, if you get the job, I’ll have to figure out how to entertain myself,” she says, “and I’ll get to binge all the TV shows you hate.” 

“You’re such an optimist,” you chide playfully. 

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #drabble #series #au #whisked away #sweet and spicy #mcu #marvel #avengers

[tojigasm]

Raw

Authors note: another Sam Worthington fic for you, sweet angels!! This one can be read as a sequel to the first Sam fic I posted but can also be read as a stand-alone. This one is very much weird!reader coded and deranged <33 i hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: nsfw 18+, minors DNI, smut, fluff, Dilf! Sam worthington, heavy obsession with one another, angst, reader is #weirdmanicpixiedreamgirl type beat, mentions of hurting oneself (not Self harm though), picking at scabs, petnames, Sam being very sweet and a good boyfriend

Synopsis

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

and God, you both want to consume one another. a dying urge to crawl into each other's arms until you mesh into one. he wants to bleed from you and run down your thighs and pick at your scabs until they burn and run rivers of velvet.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

The air smells of wheat and lavender, and the lace tablecloth tickles the tops of your thighs in the gentle air.

"You have this look about you." Sam smiles, dimples soft against his cheeks. "Like you've seen everything and anything. Like you've lived too many lives to count."

His shoe toes at your Mary Jane, and you hum, taking a sip of your drink. Sea glass eyes focus in on you, and you flush under his warm gaze.

pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you turn away bashfully, focusing on the breathing trees and soft pillowy clouds that wave by.

The cafe Sam had picked was secluded enough for New York's standards of celebrity life. Tucked away in a quiet park that awarded a moment of gentle peace for the two of you.

Sam's hand cups your cheeks and turns you back to him. Sea glass eyes trace over you again, his lashes drooping in a gentle gaze.

"Where do you go in that head of yours hm?" His voice draws in his accent, lips pulled into a smirk.

shrugging, you pull back to take another sip of your drink. "Off to one of my past lives, I suppose."

he doesn't say anything, gently wrapping his hand over your chin again. He runs the knuckles of his other over your soft cheeks before tracing you features with the tips of his fingers.

You look up at him under your lashes before biting into his palm with a giggle. Sam pulls away in faux hurt, hissing through his teeth before settling back into the seat of his chair.

Sam takes you in – the soft of your hair, the glow of your skin under the sun. Your vanilla slip that rides up your thigh, leaving wake to your lace stockings.

"You're staring." Your voice pulls him back to you.

"I was."

Sam gives you a look that you can't quite make out. Not entirely confident that it's something in the way he responds or a separation in the age between the two of you — either way, he doesn't explain it to you, and you don't ask.

You blame it on the gap of maturity between the two of you.

There's a moment of pause before you hum, taking another sip of your drink before standing up and grabbing your purse.

Sam takes a wad of bills from his wallet and places them on the table. Linking your hands together, he lets you guide him.

—

In the park, Sam settles down near Birchwood and guides you to sit between his legs. Your back to his chest as he pulls your shared novel from your purse and begins to read.

It's soft and quiet in the meadow as spring circles round. Purples and yellows and baby blues are scattered around the soft tufts of grass.

A bird sings, and you let your eyes flutter shut as a plane hums overhead. The sun warms your cheeks and arms, decorating your lace slip in a halo glow.

"What do you say I shall do? The man asks. He speaks sadly, as though he knows the answer already, and it wears Oedipus' soul thin." Sam's voice, thick in his Australian drawl dances around you, chilling over your arms and the small cut on your knee and your hair and the glow of your dress.

There's a soft moment where you can hear Sam fold a page and set the book down before you're met with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"You're my world, sweetheart." Sam mumbles against your cheek, nuzzling himself into you.

You hum, "tell me," Reaching back, you loop your arms around his neck, letting your head fall back to his chest.

"Sometimes I wish I could take you away from all this — all this bullshit celebrity life." He gestures around, "all those fake people with their fake lives and their fake everything. Y'too good fr'em."

You turn in his hold, unraveling yourself from his arms, sitting on your knees between his legs.

Your fingers tickle over the rust of his beard and upwards into his thick hair, letting roan slip through your fingers.

"I like my life." You smile with a hum, kissing him softly.

He nods in your hands, and you pull your sunglasses off to put on his head.

"I do." You tickle his side, "I like that they wish they were me. That they look at me and have half the mind not to kill themselves over someone so pretty."

Sam thinks of you as sickly beautiful. You're so smart and so goddamn beautiful. But you're sick and you're deranged and you're evil in the way you watch and pry and steal.

And he loves you for it. Loves the way your eyes light up when a horror film comes on or the way you get giddy when questioned at award ceremonies by those who are oh so above you - It's all the same to him.

Sam watches as you sway gently, lashes soft to your cheeks and your tongue rolling over the plush of your lips in a smirk.

"You wanna get out of here?" he cups your chin, and you nod.

—

in the cool of your apartment, you sway through the auburn halls. Pulling Sam by the hands as Tchaikovsky echoes throughout the flat in a hazy song.

finding yourself on the foot of your bed, you fall to the duvet - flashes of rainbow and amber dance about your ceiling in a ballet, jumping from wall to wall by the glass prisms Sam had gifted you for your birthday.

he watches you like this. lost in your own mind in a bout of giggles that fall past your lips and absentminded humming.

kneeling to the floor, he begins to unbuckle your Mary Janes, kissing your knees through your lace stockings as he slides them off.

the tips of your white slip are stained with green from the meadow - trickling through the threads like a root.

Sam sits beside you on the bed, relaxing into your bed frame. he watches you, notes you, takes you in, and absorbs you.

you meet his eyes and crawl to your hand and knees, sitting back on your haunches to plant both laced feet to his chest. you trace the tips of your toes over each button of his shirt.

"You're naughty," his hand grazes the sole of your foot.

"And you pretend you don't like it." you sneer, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

the arch your feet press into the thick of his bulge beneath his pants and he hisses.

"Hands and knees." he directs.

the cream duvet is cool under your hands, rubbing and burning at your knees as Sam sits behind you. his eyes wander over you before his hands do - he likes to take his time.

he kisses down the backs of your thighs to the soft of your calves and the gentle arch of your feet. And when he slides into you, he kisses a line down the dip of your back, tracing shapes and poems and words of love he'll never speak. you do the same to the sheets below you.

the way you love is not kind, nor is it all encompassing and gentle. You destroy and you devour, and you exist as nothing and everything in the time it takes for Sam to enter you and for you to finish.

the stretch of his cock makes your head fall between your shoulders and you cry. your hand reaches back to his own that digs into the plush of your ass. His thumb traces over a scab that's been long healed and picked apart again, and it repeats.

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

and God, you both want to consume one another. a dying urge to crawl into each other's arms until you mesh into one. he wants to bleed from you and run down your thighs and pick at your scabs until they burn and run rivers of velvet.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

—

It's creeping up like a weed inside of you. It's rotting, and it's tearing you apart.

And it unsettles you so. As though it seeps into your skin and rots you just as it rots your mind and thoughts and seeps from your skin like a thickly sickness.

it must be a sickness you deicde. for what else could it be?

You'd begun to dig into the skin of your hand earlier during, freshly manicured nails scraping and cutting. It's almost pacifying. something to take your mind off the insufferable crowd and the creeping reminder of the fans and media outlets that will ultimately tear into you until there's nothing more of you left.

your skin is raw and it burns. You think of it sickly as you sigh under your breath, eyes falling shut.

"Y/n."

It's Sam. his thick brows cinched with worry and his hand gently soothing your thigh.

"Are you okay?" you nod. You think you might throw up.

"Yes, I'm okay."

Sam studies you for a moment. Searching in your eyes, almost pleading for you to tell the truth and have him pull you out of the building, have him drive you home and soothe your aches and worries away. Have him save you from the stupid fucking award show you hadn't even wanted to be at to begin with.

his hand squeezes your thigh, and he nods solemnly before turning back to the stage. And a part of you is relieved he doesn't push on the subject more; over time he's learned to let you come to him on your own.

A shrill scream rings among the crowd before an eruption of applause echoes throughout the room.

"I think i'd like to go home now." your lips bitten raw to match your hand and your pretty nails.

Sam turns to you, you feel his hand to your back before you hear him. Running gentle circles over your shoulder, your eyes flutter open and he leans forward to whisper something to you.

—

"M'sorry," you sob into the warmth of him. he coos, soothing you as his cock fills you.

"Theres nothing to apologize for, sweetheart." Sam traces his knuckles over the soft of your cheek.

the ache of the stretch pulls you thin, and you sob into the warmth of Sams room. his cock bruises your walls, his thumb circling kind strokes against your clit.

"Shhh, you're okay." Sam whispers to your cheek as you sob. and it almost as if you cant stop, as if a backlog of tears roll up into your throat and choke you and deem you unworthy until the tides swallow you whole.

"Do you think im wrong?" you can hardly recognize your own voice. its distorted and raw and raspy and comes past your lips in cuts and scratches.

"No, no you're not wrong. you're okay." Sam continues to roll his hips into you, and you dig your nails into his shoulders, looking to his ceiling as your orgasm rides itself through you.

you moan and cry - you bite into Sam's shoulder and pray his skin tears open.

—

you wake to soft chirps and the gentle roar of traffic. Sam still asleep next to you, his freckled arms wrapped over your hips and his roan hair dishevled.

careful not to wake him, you unravel yourself from his hold, pulling on your clothes and grabbing your purse.

You leave his house and head to your car, pulling out onto the road. you aren't sure where you're going.

the sky is a pretty pink and blue that chills over the morning mist and trickles in dew drops.

you feel sickly, you feel skinned, like the rotted and dead root that's been growing and weeding as finally sprung its ugly deformed petals, like its stupidly unaware of how painfully sick it its.

you feel raw.

The soft hum of 'Hearing Damage' circles throughout your car and you begin to feel the sun on your skin as it rises over the mountains of the plains.

Sam's profile appears on the screen of your dashboard. He's calling you. The phone icon pulses on the screen.

You don't pick up.

#sam worthington #dilf sam worthington #avatar #sam worthington x reader #avatar x reader #sam worthington smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully

[elizais]

when you know, you know.

when they realise just how much they love you ft: nikolai, bram, poe part 1 here content/warnings: mentions of murder (poe's ability), shortttt, i tried to keep it as a gn reader but i might have slipped up at points. i wrote bram without the sword and in current day bcs i was struggling dudesss i think this is my first time trying to write for bram and poe so please take these with a pinch of salt but the lovely person who requested it was so polite i couldn't pass it up <3

nikolai was.. lively to say the least. i mean, just having a partner would be (in his eyes) something tying him down. but, for you? being with you would comply with him wanting to be free. you granted him freedom from all of the negative thoughts that could plague him.

walking down the high-street with you, hand in hand as he pondered all of these ideas. the both of you were strolling towards a cafe that kolya had begged to go to for its "famous pirozhki".

he was not in his usual attire today, wearing a simple blue turtleneck sweater and jeans that fit him loosely. you had to admit, he looked close to incredible when you contrasted it to his usual wear. even though his outfit was different, his personality did not falter in the slightest.

swinging your arms forwards and backwards quickly as you walked, he giggled at whatever joke he was thinking of. turning towards him, you smiled. "kolya?" you poked his upper arm for his attention. "what type of bird is that?" you asked, glancing at a small bird hopping through tree branches. as he looked over, it flew away.

his braid fell over his shoulder, laying softly as he considered making a witty joke. the truth of what he was thinking was of how much he adored you, how you pointed out birdies, watched comedy shows with him, tried your best to cook his favourite meals, put up with him using his ability to scare you..

he thought back to earlier, you had brushed his hair into the usual neat braid as he spoke about what tricks he was going to pull on sigma and fyodor too. he laughed as you frowned, claiming "leave sigma alone, he has a casino to take care of, babysitting you is my job."

bram was, aside from being a vampire and that, perfect. his personality was complex, but you often joked that it wittled down to him just wanting to sleep.

today, you were both sat on the sofa as he spoke about aya. you were brushing through his hair. "she was telling me about some artists, i think she meant composers." he explained, going on about music as you giggled. his hair was showing some curls towards the ends that you were entertaining yourself with.

he was kneeling in front of you so that you could face his back and toy with his hair.

"what is amusing?" he asked politely, refraining from turning around incase he messed up the braid you insisted so stubbornly on putting in his hair. you pulled the long braid onto his shoulder and he saw how you had refined the hair past the bobble into a sweet curl.

he smiled softly as you spoke, "what genre do you want to listen to? does aya have any recommendations?" you teased and he let out a soft chuckle. cherishing these sweeter, saccharine moments were as good at keeping him alive as his ability was.

he put up with the garlic jokes, playing dumb vampire films on tv (he really does love hotel transylvania!), the teasing.. all because he loves you !!

poe was like a breath of fresh air to be around. there was never a need to be loud or extroverted with him. and those were just bonuses on top of getting to hang out with a raccoon all of the time. you were currently in another room trying to trim karl's nails.

key word: trying

ed was in the study, writing another novel. whether it's for ranpo or not? who knows. karl wasn't putting up a fight but more so.. wriggling around. any sane person would have given up by now but with the amount of time this raccoon spends around your shoulders? zero chance.

once you finally finished, you swooped karl into your arms and carried him back to edgar. "ed? have you eaten or drank water recently?" you asked, setting down karl and walking over to him as he closed the book before him. he nodded as he looked up to you from his armchair.

"yes, and i have finished it!" he exclaimed, you furrowed your brows in confusion. "finished what, love?" he presented you the book proudly. "it's just like the film we watched a few weeks ago. you said you wanted to live in that manor house, no?" and that's when it clicked for you.

he carried on, "when you want to go, all the characters will be there! i had to add in another to die but other than that? it's the same!" he excitedly explained. tracing over the clothbound cover with your name on the front, he added one more thing. "oh! and to figure it out in one of the office desk drawers it will let you know what happened."

you smiled at that, he didn't want you to struggle. unfortunately, his ability was only murder mystery related so he couldn't write a book about a sunshine land where nothing went wrong. yet he tried his best, for you!

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #edgar allen poe #poe x reader #poe bsd #bsd edgar allan poe #edgar allen poe x reader #bsd nikolai gogol #nikolai gogol #nikolai x reader #bsd x you #bram stoker #bsd bram #bram bsd #bram stoker bsd #bram stoker x reader #bram x reader