#andrew tuttle

[rastronomicals]

11:24 PM EST January 3, 2025:

Andrew Tuttle - "Burwood Heights Convenience" From the album Mojo 2020: Music For Homes (May 15, 2020)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Free CD that's not really ambient, though its title and art would suggest just such a thing, given away with the July 2020 issue of Mojo

File under: Coronavirus Music

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Michael Chapman - Peel Session 1968

In the latest edition of Uncut (the one with Broooooce on the cover), I was kindly given a page to wax poetic over a very interesting / very cool new collaborative release — Another Tide, Another Fish by Andrew Tuttle and Michael Chapman. Of course as you know, the mighty Chapman passed away a few years back. But here's the deal:

What we’re left with is indeed a hybrid: part remix album, part cover album, both a solo work and a collaboration, of sorts. Inspired by Chapman’s original ideas and with new track titles directly referencing the numbered but otherwise untitled source material, Tuttle adds his own flashes of colours throughout, including editing, sampling, MIDI transposing and signal processing that twists these songs into beautiful new shapes.

Meddling with a departed musician's unfinished material is always a dangerous game ... but Tuttle's work here is marvelous. It really does feel in keeping with Chapman's always adventurous spirit, but also like a true partnership; Tuttle's additions are much more than mere flourishes. Anyway, it's cool, go grab it.

Chapman's late-career renaissance/celebration was great to see. He was one of those people who, when you finally heard him via a reissue or something, you wondered why you hadn't been hearing him your entire life. With a lot of those guys, they're long gone before that reassessment happens. But Michael got to enjoy it all. A little rarity to listen to? How about his very first Peel Session, from way back in 1968. He was a young man then, but he sounds fully formed and wise beyond his years, ready for whatever came next.

[radiophd]

mike cooper & andrew tuttle -- one volt per one ampere

[burlveneer-music]

SUSS & Andrew Tuttle - SUSS brings their ambient country sound to Longform Editions in this New York-Sydney collaboration

New York-based trio SUSS bridge atmospheric minimalism with classic Americana instrumentation, pioneering a genre they call ‘ambient country’ – a term that aptly defines their vivid and singular sound. SUSS have been described by UNCUT as if “Eno’s Apollo Atmospheres crash-landed in America’s Sonoran Desert”, and by Pitchfork as “neither rawboned nor ramshackle … [their] elegantly composed brand of ambient country stands as tall and clean as a brand-new pair of cowboy boots”. Composed of veteran musicians Pat Irwin (B-52s), Bob Holmes (Rubber Rodeo), and Jonathan Gregg (The Linemen), the group made the decision to carry on as a trio after the loss of founding member Gary Leib in 2020. Crafting their cinematic soundscapes with the resumes to back them up, SUSS weave pedal steel, harmonica, harmonium, mandolin, baritone guitar, and National guitar with synthesisers and loops, creating a massive and high lonesome sound. Andrew Tuttle is a best-kept secret of the Australian musical underground – a songwriter, composer and improviser who has collaborated with Matmos, Steve Gunn, Charlie Parr, Gwenifer Raymond, Luke Schneider and many others. Tuttle’s music exists serenely and purposefully in a space where the five-string banjo and the six-string acoustic guitar weave in and out of processed electronics. Like time-lapse photography, it unfolds its colours and textures with an astonishing gracefulness and wonderment.

[lukesalbumawheneverhefeelslikeit]

3683: "Another Tide, Another Fish" by - Andrew Tuttle, Michael Chapman

[precodesoul]

Loretta Andrews as a goldwyn girl in the pre-code musical, Roman Scandals (dir. Frank Tuttle, 1933)

[my-midlife-crisis]

THE EPSTEIN LIST

Look at number 77

Ghislaine Maxwell

Virginia Lee Roberts Giuffre [Epstein victim]

Prince Andrew of England

James Michael Austrich

Philip Barden

REDACTED

Cate Blanchett

David Boies

Laura Boothe

Evelyn Boulet

Rebecca Boylan

Joshua Bunner

Naomi Campbell

Carolyn Casey

Paul Cassell

Sharon Churcher

Bill Clinton

David Copperfield

Alexandra Cousteau

Cameron Diaz

Leonardo DiCaprio

Alan Dershowitz

Dr. Mona Devanesan

REDACTED

Bradley Edwards

Amanda Ellison

Cimberly Espinosa

Jeffrey Epstein

Annie Farmer

Marie Farmer

Alexandra Fekkai

Crystal Figueroa

Anthony Figueroa

Louis Freeh

Eric Gany

Meg Garvin

Sheridan Gibson-Butte

Robert Giuffre

Al Gore

Ross Gow

Fred Graff

Philip Guderyon

REDACTED

Shannon Harrison

Stephen Hawking

Victoria Hazel

Brittany Henderson

Brett Jaffe

Michael Jackson

Carol Roberts Kess

Dr. Karen Kutikoff

Peter Listerman

George Lucas

Tony Lyons

Bob Meister

Jamie A. Melanson

Lynn Miller

Marvin Minsky

REDACTED

David Mullen

Joe Pagano

Mary Paluga

J. Stanley Pottinger

Joseph Recarey

Michael Reiter

Jason Richards

Bill Richardson

Sky Roberts

Scott Rothstein

Forest Sawyer

Doug Schoetlle

Kevin Spacey

Cecilia Stein

Mark Tafoya

Brent Tindall

Kevin Thompson

Donald Trump

Ed Tuttle

Emma Vaghan

Kimberly Vaughan-Edwards

Cresenda Valdes

Anthony Valladares

Maritza Vazquez

Vicky Ward

Jarred Weisfeld

Courtney Wild

Bruce Willis

Daniel Wilson

Kathy Alexander

Miles Alexander

[haliotropes]

Black Star (Rustin Cohle x OC)

9. Hysterical and Useless | Rated E

A/N: smut!!!!!!!

₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ

It makes the most sense to Kenny for her to go stay with Rust. But that can't happen. And he can't stay with her. He has to go do whatever it is he's doing. Worse than that, he's taken two weeks of leave, so it's not like she can push anyone at the CID for answers. And, come to find out, Marty is staying at Rust's place because he's been cheating on Maggie and she kicked him out- rightly so.

Kenny always knew Marty had something of a fucking idiot streak in him.

Regardless, Kenny spends her nights at home with a cop outside and pushes her way into work during the day. Charlie tried to guilt her about wasting state resources by having cops guard her instead of just going to stay with him. In genuine argument, she pointed out that he still goes to work every day, (so does she but that's besides the point), and in bullshit pettiness, she argued that it's been so long since her father was on the force that he wouldn't know what to do if a serial killer showed up.

Perhaps it was a bit much, but it got him off her back.

At work, the idea of a personal narrative piece was dangled around but both Kenny and Doucet were too afraid to bite.

“Could be good for you.”

“Yeah?” Kenny prods in skepticism.

“Yeah. Think they call it ‘therapeutic’.”

“Think there probably needs to be some cognitive psychology involved for it to be categorized as ‘therapeutic’, Andrew.”

“I'm not even saying publish it. But maybe to get it in words…?”

“You're a great man but you're a shitty manager. Just ask me to write the story so I can say ‘no’.”

Doucet rolls his eyes and spreads his hands helplessly.

“I was never saying-”

“Alright, I'm gonna find a local hero to write about or something. A retiring teacher. A kitten-saving fireman.”

Kenny pushes herself from the chair in Doucet's office and is out before he can get another word in edgewise. She skirts past the desk of Stephon, the new hire, and knocks on it. He's elbows deep in a box of records and jumps when Kenny makes herself known.

“Jeez, Marsden,” he mutters. “Is this you in a good mood?”

“When I'm in a good mood, you'll know it.”

“Should you even be here?”

“As long as they keep letting you in, I think I'm good. Hey, you got any small stuff needs writing up? I don't have a story to be working on and I'm bored out of my mind.”

Stephon eyes her. “You don't have a story.”

“One that don't revolve around my current trauma? No, I've been a little busy with it. Or keep your workload, see if I care.”

Kenny starts to walk away; Stephon hurriedly turns in his chair.

“Wait! He wants six inches on the gator population control.”

“Wow, Stephon, I asked for work, not a walk at the park.” Stephon stares at her. “Kidding. I don't care. I'll take it.”

Stephon hands Kenny the assignment and just then, Caroline, the receptionist, is calling her name, so she goes to the front desk. Her heart sinks when she sees an egregiously large vase of flowers sitting on the counter, and an envelope with her name on it.

“Inn't that sweet? Someone sent you flowers!” Caroline says, but Kenny knows it's not sweet, because who is going to be sending her flowers at work? Who's trying to make a point she can't ignore?

Kenny tears open the envelope and inside is a card that features an image of a kitten in an arm cast, saying “get well soon!” Opening it up, Kenny sees a swooping, unfamiliar script.

Miss Marsden,

I speak for not only myself, but the entirety of the Tuttle family when I say that I am so relieved to hear of your safe return and your full recovery. No one was surprised when you returned to work immediately.

Once you've gathered your bearings, it'd be my pleasure to speak with you again, perhaps over dinner. Don't be afraid to call.

Rev. Billy Lee Tuttle

And featured at the bottom is a phone number. Kenny rips the front of the card off and hands it to Caroline, who takes it confused, and folds the written side up and stuffs it into her pocket. She grabs the vase.

“Tell Doucet I'll be back. I'm taking a trip to the CID.”

-

Kenny and Quesada have never gotten along, and it's because when they're alone in a room together, she can almost always get him to fold. It's what she's banking on today. She pulls up to the CID and unbuckles the vase from where it safely sits in the passenger seat. Grabbing that, she stalks her way inside. She can ignore the first wave of stares as she climbs up the steps, but once she actually enters the office and has to take off her sunglasses, it takes everything in her not to shrink away. She says hello to Cathleen and says the flowers are for the office and happily leaves them at the counter. Kenny can see over her shoulder, next to Rust's vacant desk, is Marty.

His desk being in the very back has to be a cosmic irony, because she has to walk past every single man in that room to get to him. No one wants to look at her, save Geraci, who looks like he's thinking of what to say, but can't quite get there yet.

“Lemme know when you figure it out,” Kenny mutters at him in passing. She almost sits in Rust's chair but thinks better of it, opting for a short filing cabinet behind Marty's desk. His eyes go wide when he sees her, and he watches wordlessly when she sits down.

“Guess I shouldn't be shocked you're out and about.”

“Guess you shouldn't.”

“And you being here cannot be good news.”

“No, not particularly good.”

Marty looks behind him and sees half the office staring at them, trying to eavesdrop.

“We, uh, we should maybe go somewhere a bit more private. Come on.”

Marty stands and Kenny follows him with crossed arms. He leads her to the archives room and they find a cozy corner to stand in.

“You look better. How are you feeling?”

“Like I ate something foul. The good Reverend sent me flowers and a card.”

“How thoughtful.”

Kenny digs the folded card from the back pocket of her cargo pants and hands it to Marty. He unfolds it, reads it, looks at her.

“What are you thinking?”

Kenny bites her thumbnail. “I don't know. He's gonna press me for information I'm not gonna give, but he knows that, which makes me think there's something else. I dunno why he's so obsessed with this case but it's rubbing me the wrong way.”

“Satanic panic is good for his business.”

“I dunno…this doesn't feel like that.”

Marty waits for a beat, digests her words. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing. I'm not. I don't know. But you're leading this investigation so I wanted you to know.”

Marty frowns in consideration at the card.

“Is that all you wanted?”

Kenny folds her arms over her chest again. Looks at the floor.

“How is he?”

Marty takes too long to answer, so Kenny knows he's at least considering lying, but his answer is honest as he folds the card back, and then some, thinning the seams with his thumbnail.

“He's not great, you know. Says he knows what he's doing and I trust him.”

“Still.” Then, because she knows they can't avoid it. “I heard about you and Maggie.”

Marty turns a bright shade of red and it's his turn to look away.

“I'm gonna make it up to her.”

“If she lets you, you'll be the luckiest man in the world, you know that, right?”

“I know.”

“I mean-”

“I know, Kenny.”

“Fuckin unbelievable.”

“You are not the first person to say it.”

“I've been a little busy and my turn was due.”

“Well, I hope you feel satisfied in getting a word in about my personal life.”

“Hey, shitter, I think we're past that point, don't you?”

There's a pause, and Marty breaks out into that stupid, toothy grin and shakes his head.

“God help me if I wasn't already planning on making it right. I'd have half the parish knocking down my door.”

“I have more in the chamber.”

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I'm gonna see if Quesada will talk. Listen, if I came by tonight, would he be there? Would he, I dunno, be in a position to talk to me?”

Marty shrugs with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I have no idea, Kiddo. It ain't my place to talk about and you're just gonna have to take that risk.”

Kenny nods, the thought infinitely more stomach churning than the idea of going into Quesada's office.

Which she does, after knocking. When he sees her, Quesada lifts his hands.

“You're not a cop, Kennedy.”

“You don't have a sign outside your door,” she says. “May I sit?”

“You're going to anyway.”

He's right, and she does.

“Listen, you need to get Tuttle off our backs.”

“‘Our’? Who exactly are you speaking for?”

“Myself, Marty, Rust, you. The CID if you know what's good for you.”

Quesada throws up his hands and looks around himself. “What do you expect me to do, Kennedy? Ask him nicely to back off?”

“You could tell him that he, in fact, has no authority here.”

“Look, I know you don't like me, but there's no way you think I'm actually that stupid. He does have that authority. Not by title, but in power. And that's what happens when your cousin is governor. You know, when your father is a commissioner.”

Kenny slumps back in her chair and rolls her eyes.

“Christ almighty…”

“Marty and Rust have had more than enough time to figure this out. If they don't, they know what happens. That's out of my hands.”

“He wants to talk to me, almost certainly about the case. I don't want him to, and you should give a shit.”

“I can give a shit, but that doesn't have any impact.”

“Well goddamn, Quesada, what am I supposed to do?”

“Mind your business? Did you ever consider that from the start?”

“It is my business! I was kidnapped.”

“Yeah, and you know why. You got yourself involved.”

“Jesus, a random guy could shoot me in the face and you'd find a way to say I deserved it.”

“Kenny, there's nothing I can do that I'm willing to do. Think of that what you will, because God knows you will.”

Kenny is shocked into a momentary silence.

“So that's it?”

“That's it. And you shoulda known better.”

Kenny pushes herself from the desk chair.

“Fine. Waste of my fuckin time…”

When she opens the door, she's chest to chest with Speece, who looks over her shoulder at Quesada.

“There a problem here?” He asks in his deep, intimidating voice.

“There's a million problems here, Sergeant. No one's willing to figure them out. Excuse me.”

Speece allows her to move past him. Kenny stops briefly at Marty's desk.

“I'll talk to you soon.”

“Didn't go well?”

“What do you think? I'll pop by tonight if I can shake my security detail. He only hangs around the house, though, so it shouldn't be too hard.”

Marty sighs. “Well, hopefully I have a date with Maggie. We'll see how that goes.”

“Well, see you when I see you.”

Kenny passes the other cluster of desks and sees that Geraci's is empty. She exhales in relief.

Until she exits to the hot parking lot and finds him standing by her car. Kenny pauses, keys in hand. Not that she thinks he's going to hurt her, let alone in the parking lot of the CID in broad daylight. Once he sees her, he throws his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out.

“There a reason you're waiting for me out here?” Kenny asks, trying to keep nonchalant as she retrieves her car key from the ring.

“Yeah. Didn't wanna have this conversation in the office. Just wanted to say… Look, I've been dealing with Marie in my own way, alright? We all know how much you cared, but ultimately that was my fuck up, so don't think I haven't been thinking about it.”

Kenny squints over his shoulder. “I don't spend time thinking about what you think about, Geraci.”

“And I know you wanna get as close as possible to what you missed out on. But you won't get it. Everyone accommodates you, but as someone who actually thinks you shouldn't die, you need to back off. Don't talk to anyone about the case, stop writing about it, and stop coming by here. Just give it up. You can't justify Marie's death by sharing in it.”

Kenny hasn't moved, hasn't blinked. Just stares at the same spot over his shoulder and chews through the thin skin on the inside of her cheek. Once he's quiet, she looks at his face.

“You done?”

Geraci chuckles and sets his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, I'm done.”

“Good.”

Kenny unlocks her car door. She feels Geraci's eyes following her movements.

“What?”

“Just wondering…”

“In your head?”

“You fuckin just one of em, or both?”

Kenny freezes, her car key gripped tight in her first.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I get Cohle, I get. Y'all are fuckin made for each other. But Marty, too? Seems a bit fucked up, given your relationship with him.”

It takes everything in Kenny to swing her right fist around and at his lower jaw instead of her left where she had her key. Geraci stumbles away, probably more out of shock than pain, and Kenny cradles her hand.

“Fuck!” She grits out. She opens the door and sits in the driver's seat, starts the engine, and is putting the car in reverse by the time Geraci has straightened and thought to advance on her.

“You stupid bitch!” He shouts at her as she peels away from the parking lot. Once she's on the interstate, she screams into her steering wheel.

-

By eight, Marty had come and gone from Rust's apartment. Trying to win back Maggie's heart. Damn fool. Both of them, fools.

And Rust was a fool, too, and he knows it. Microdosing crack was not high on his list of things to re-explore once he settled into Louisiana. He's sluggish, paranoid, hazy, more likely to stare at the crime scene photos rather than analyze them. He spends a lot of time in front of his tiny mirror.

At about nine, Rust damn near thinks he's hallucinating when there's a knock on his door, because it better not be Marty (because it would likely mean he fucked up again over dinner) and it better not be Kenny, because she should not be out and alone this late.

But of course, it's Kenny who's outside his door. Sober, at least, which is good. He doesn't want to set a precedent.

The first thing he notices is her bruises healing, then her red and exhausted eyes, and then her wrapped knuckles. Rust opens the door wider to invite her in.

“What'd you do?”

Kenny comes inside and Rust does a quick cursory glance outside before closing and locking the door.

“Socked Geraci in the jaw and nearly broke my hand.”

Rust runs his hands down his face.

“Jesus, Ken-”

“Hey, you woulda killed him if you'd heard what he said. He's lucky he got away with one punch.”

“Lemme see.”

Rust watches as Kenny catches her breath and obediently holds out her hand. Rust takes it and gently unwraps it. Her knuckles are shiny, red and purple. Cherries.

“Hmm,” he hums, and begins to rewrap, but Kenny quickly grips his forearm. His free hand flies to her offending one on reflex.

“What the fuck, Rust?”

He follows her eyes to the track marks on the inside of his elbow. He'd completely forgotten he was wearing his sleeveless undershirt. He felt her pulse uptick and watched as her eyes went wide.

“Nah, it's not what it looks like-”

A hollow laugh rings from Kenny's chest. “It isn't?”

“No.” Rust calmly uses his hold on her to make her release him. “This is part of the job. What I took off for. Why I didn't want you to see me.”

Kenny, promising a softer touch with her eyes on his, the vulnerability of the moment reassuring him, runs her thumb down his firm forearm and pulls at the skin around the injection sites. Rust takes in a breath but says nothing.

“Is it worth it?” She asks quietly. Rust's free hand comes up to encompass her shoulder and he looks at a spot over her head.

“I don't know yet. I hope so.”

Kenny plants a soft kiss on his bicep and looks up at him.

“How'd you get away from your security?” Rust mumbles and brushes her hair from her face.

“Told him I was going out for cigarettes,” she smirks.

“You'd’ve made one helluva father.”

“Fuck off.”

Rust seizes her mouth with his, hungrily, though not as firm as usual, given the perpetual slight high he's been living with lately. He's been miserable. To deny either of them this fact would be dishonest.

Kenny's fingertips slip up the hem of his shirt and caress the hot skin of his abdomen. Rust shudders against her mouth. His hands travel to her hips with a bruising grip and one palm dips lower to rub across the sensitive skin off her ass.

Kenny's hands explore his stomach until they graze his bullet scars. She stops, pulls his shirt up a bit.

“Rustin, you are never short of surprises.”

She moves her hands to his shoulder blades, taking the shirt in a bunch with them, and soon she's hiking it over his head. Rust pulls it from around his arms and discards it on the floor. Kenny is in a tank top and cargo pants and boots. Rust starts with the top. One piece for another. He removes it, tosses it aside, and groans internally when he sees her barely there bra, likely only present to maintain a sense of propriety. But her nipples peek through and Rust's mouth goes to her chest. He pulls the thin fabric of the bra aside and closes his lips around the stiff bud and nips against it with teeth. Kenny stifles a moan through biting on her lip and clumsily undoes his belt. Once she gets it through the loops, she breaks away from Rust and goes towards the counter, sets it down on one of the stools. Rust gets the hint. He presses against her back, kisses her shoulder and unclasps her bra. She shrugs it off and it too finds a new home among the floor.

One of Rust's hands flit around Kenny's stomach while the other flicks open the button of her pants. His long fingers play at the top of her pubis. Kenny throws her head against his shoulder and turns around to face him.

“What about Marty?” Rust asks lazily, alluding to the possibility of his failure and then coming home early. He pulls down Kenny's pants and watches as she kicks off her boots to free herself of them totally. She stands before him now, naked, save for a thong. Her hair falls over her shoulders, her scars and freckles continuing across the parts of her body that had previously been inaccessible. She smiles at him with newly red lips from the kissing, and the flush of her cheeks spread down to her neck, her chest. Rust thinks she's so beautiful, and she glows with the kitchen light behind her.

Kenny approaches him again and finishes removing his pants.

“Fuck Marty,” she whispers huskily. Looks up and in the eyes. “Yeah?”

Rust nods and chokes out the heavy word. “Yeah.”

Yeah to ‘fuck Marty’, yeah to fucking here and now. Kenny plunges her hand down into his boxers and wraps a warm hand around his already semi-hard cock. She moans in satisfaction and that does even to harden him completely. Rust steps out of his boxers and sinks to his knees. He grips the sides of Kenny's underwear and drags them down slowly, exposing her to him. She is as full and lush as he had expected her to be, as he had fantasized about her being. Already swollen, just like him. The angle kills his knees but he can't be bothered to care; Rust runs his hands up and down the front of Kenny's thighs and noses through her slit. One testing stroke of his tongue and Kenny shakes, gasps in a high sound Rust isn't expecting. He does it again, dipping into her and sucking on her clit. She doesn't taste anything like he had visualized. She tastes entirely like herself.

Rust pulls away and stands, wipes his face.

“Get on the counter,” he says. Kenny, though panting and pulling her hair from her face, still smiles.

“Say ‘please’.”

“Kenny,” Rust approaches her and she follows with his movements until her back hits the cold countertop. “Please get on the counter so I can make you cum.”

Kenny nods, brings herself up to sit on the edge of the counter.

“When you masturbate, how many fingers do you usually use?” Rust drawls. Kenny's breaths are shallow.

“Two.”

Rust sticks out his ring and middle finger and offers them to Kenny. She looks between him and his digits, then takes them into her mouth, licking between them and getting them wet enough to hopefully help her to the extent she needs them to. Rust's eyes are lidded with lust and he removes his fingers from her mouth. He trails them to her opening, then slips them inside.

Kenny tries to throw her head back but it meets the cabinets overhead. She's at the perfect angle to be at eye level with him. He works his fingers up and out, up and out, lighting her up at the base of her spine and coaxing a groan from her with each movement. For a split second, Kenny's eyes flutter closed.

“Nuh-uh. Keep 'em open. I wanna see those fireflies.”

He'd never told her that's what he thought of her eyes before. Something about her softens when she hears it. Kenny slips a hand between them and strokes him, pulls him lightly closer and closer until he realizes she wants to cum with his dick in her. It's nearly enough to push him over the edge then and there.

Rust rubs up, down, then slides in. Kenny hisses and gasps, but the way she twitches around him tells him that she's doing just fine. She exhales, inhales. Rust moves in and out shallowly at the start. But the more she gives, when she grabs both his shoulders and pulls him in for a kiss, he moves deeper. Kenny lets out a high pitch sound when Rust hits a particular spot and her head falls forward and she bites onto his shoulder. She's grounding herself.

Rust picks Kenny up from the counter and carries her to the mattress on the floor. He sets her down carefully, then kneels next to her. Kenny pushes her hair from her face and pushes Rust back gently until he's sitting back. Kenny throws a leg over his until she's situated over his lap and she lowers herself onto him.

They groan together and adjust to the new position as Kenny moves her hips lazily. Rust sits up and nips at her throat. Holds it carefully as she picks up her pace. They lean the other way, with Kenny's face buried in Rust's shoulder again and his hand slipping to where they meet to help get her to that edge. Her breathing increases, and Rust can feel himself close. He holds her close as his hips snap up to meet hers. Kenny bites down as she cums, and her fluttering around him brings him with her. He holds her by the lower back and lays her against the mattress and fucks her into it properly, chasing his high and bringing her to her second. He thrusts into her with a final groan, a curse, and then slips out, rolling over to his side. The ceiling swirls.

Rust looks over at Kenny, who is breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling as well. He bites lightly at her jaw and Kenny starts, almost like she'd forgotten he was there. She turns to him, holds his face, kisses him.

-

Kenny has slept on less comfortable surfaces than Rust's mattress, though it's thin and the floor is hard and the blanket is scratchy. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters to her but Rust's softening outline each time a car's headlights breached the slats of the blinds over his shoulder. Nothing but the way his breathing is even, soft, never held or heavy. His eyelids, always half-lidded, now seem so because of this rare pocket of peace and not because he's burdened with some horrific scenery.

Speaking of his eyes, they flutter occasionally, like he's trying to stay awake, but all he does is look at Kenny. Which is fair, because all she does is look at him. It's all she does, but what she wants more than anything is to follow the carved marble of his face. Her eyes trail from a muscle in his jaw that twitches, to the tendon it connects to, and then way the tendon disappears into his clavicle. And she laughs at her desired softness for him, and her stark nakedness, and the corners of her mouth lift despite exhaustion.

"What is it?" He asks through a small smile of his own, because Kenny's joy is sometimes the only thing that can save him from drowning.

"It's just ironic...you don't much like being touched."

He thinks carefully before responding. "Not unprompted, no."

Her hand, from where it rests between the two of them, flexes involuntarily.

"May I?"

He doesn't respond, but nods his head. Now, he holds his breath. He doesn't think she'll hurt him, far from it, but that her feather light touch on his volatile skin would shatter it. If that happens, Kenny would only get injured in the blast.

Kenny raises a hesitant hand, one delicate finger out, and starts by tracing a thin line from his brow to his cheekbone. From the first moment she met Rust, Kenny yeared to touch this sharpest part of him, wondering if it could cut. It doesn't, of course. He relaxes almost instantly, the lines on his face fall away and he looks nearly ten years younger. He closes his eyes. He sighs.

Her thumb travels from his brow bone to his hairline, where she brushes away a stray copper curl that has fallen onto his forehead. The tickling of his long eyelashes on the soft skin of Kenny's forearm proves to be too much so she pulls away. But he catches her hand- swiftly, but still gently. Slowly, he raises her wrist to his mouth and plants a sort of half kiss there, mostly allowing parted lips to linger over the thin skin. His warm breath spreads in stark contrast to the chill of the night and her skin raises in goosebumps.

Kenny dares. Lays her palm against the hollow of his cheek and strokes under his eye. His hand travels up and down her arm.

"Is this alright?" Her voice is barely above a whisper. His reply is no reply at all, only gentle breathing. When she eventually moves again to pull her hand away, he instead moves it to his chest, right over his heart.

He wants to be felt. He needs to be known. Someone needs to look at him and know he's alive, he's human, he's here.

Her elbow grazes his scars. With his other arm, he draws her closer, now touching her with more care than ever before, and like this, they both drift off into a dreamless sleep.

[rastronomicals]

Andrew Tuttle

[magpie-trove]

February Reads

A Simple Path •Mother Teresa | beautiful

The Great Gatsby • F Scott Fitzgerald | I feel like I have things to say about this book but also I didn’t enjoy it. Except for in the I have things to say about it way. One of its virtues is that it’s short. The Lost Generation were in a very sick-feeling mindset about the world. That one part where Tom and Gatsby were arguing about how Daisy felt while she was standing right there was funny in a sick ironical way and I still think Gatsby-as-a-fae is underused

More Once Upon a Time Saints • Ethel Polchoki | a delight and joy

💫The Eagle Huntress • Aisholopan Nurgaiv and Liz Welch | re read this nonfiction about eagle hunting in Mongolia I love it every time

Legends of Lotus Island Books 1-4 • Christina Soontornvat | I do love Christina Soontornvat and I had a good good time with these although I will say they stretched the environmentalism a little too far sometimes (ie someone cutting down six trees carefully spaced out on an island full of trees to ostensibly help a civilization survive is going to destroy the whole entire forest and is evillll and must be stopped!!!)

💫The Nameless City & The Stone Heart • Faith Erin Hicks | these are middle grade graphic novels about a city that’s continually reconquered and how the society is affected and built and two kids making friends in the middle of it and I’m weirdly obsessed with them waiting desperately for the last to come in the mail

Animation Magic • Don Hahn | fun step by step breakdown of making an animated movie by Disney guy for kids, I liked it

💫The Chicken Doesn’t Skate • Gordon Korman | out of everything I read this month this is the five star winner it had absolutely no right to be that good if you want one (1) recommendation read this one. It’s middle grade and a quick easy read that left me grinning in a way a book hasn’t since Queen of Nothing. Which is a very different genre of book but you know what I think the plot effect is actually the same in both.

Exactly As You Are: The Life and Faith of Mr Rogers • Shea Tuttle | I love Mr Rogers :’) did feel like there was an agenda here but also it didn’t pretend there wasn’t

Global • Andrew Donkin and Eoin Colfer | YA graphic very short pretty fun very environmentalist but without being preachy I say good job guys

Still Reading: The Travels of Marco Polo and The Tale of Genji

[burberrycanary]

Movies I enjoyed in 2024 🎬

Thanks for tagging me, @booksandabeer 🍻

Rules: post 9 films you saw for the first time this year and enjoyed, brand new or not but that are new to you, then tag 9 people.

My main criterion for picking these ended up being which films continue to haunt me, such that I think about them regularly—they gnaw at me a little. And I will happily admit that's a funny operational definition of "enjoy." All the same, here are my first-seen-in-2024 picks:

Z (dir. Costa-Gavras)

Funny Ha Ha (dir. Andrew Bujalski)

All That Jazz (dir. Bob Fosse)

Plein Soleil / Purple Noon (dir. René Clément)*

Yukinojō Henge / An Actor's Revenge (dir. Kon Ichikawa)

This Gun For Hire (dir. Frank Tuttle)

Breaking the Waves (dir. Lars von Trier)

Tiny Furniture (dir. Lena Dunham)

Meghe Dhaka Tara / The Cloud-Capped Star (dir. Ritwik Ghatak)

* Seeing Plein Soleil on a gorgeous newly restored 35mm print was one of the highlights of my film-watching year!

This has been going around for a little, so if you'd like to play and haven't, I'm tagging @village-skeptic, @bromcommie, @arctic-turtle-cassiopeia, @theelectricpeach, @moggett, @between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place, @jandjsalmon, @musette22 and @onecontinuoussigh.

(And if you have played and I missed your list, I'd love to see it!)

[rigelmejo]

List of books I'd like to make book articles about:

Japanese in Thirty Hours (romaji only, but exceptionally useful little book to get a succinct and understandable basic grammar summary)

Le Francais Par Le Methode Nature (a Nature Method textbook, teaches 3000 common words entirely in the target language French using images and French explanations only. It is an interesting glance in how some language textbooks once taught. I wish nature method textbooks were still being made, this textbook helped my French significantly. I think Lingua Latina is one of the only nature method textbooks still used often nowadays)

All Spanish Method (a Direct Method textbook, note the similarities and differences compared to the Nature Methof textbook style. Particularly that Direct Method books contain some explanations in another language, and may require a teacher to understand some of the target language material. An interesting look into this older style of textbook)

Madrigal's Magical Guide to Spanish (wonderful summary of a lot of cognates and grammar patterns, I liked all the Madrigal books, I also used the French one)

German through Pictures (german taught through pictures as the only explanations, I wish more books like this existed)

Chinese Grammar Self-Taught by John Darroch (love the explanations in this, also the glance into how Chinese was taught in the 1920s)

Beginning Chinese Reader by DeFrancis (and Intermediate, and Advanced, all amazing Graded Readers. I havent read these in a while, but I renember they taught 1500 hanzi and 10,000 words from those hanzi, with built in natural review of words learned by using words from prior lessons in later lessons, and thousands of pages of reading practice)

Russian Language in 25 Lessons by Artemiy Belyaev (amazing short grammar guide)

Barrow Japanese at a Glance (all Barrow at a Glance books include short grammar summaries which I find particularly nice to include in phrase books)

Learn to Read in Japanese, A Japanese Reader Volume 1, by Roger Lake and Noriko Ura (they also made the free and incredibly useful japaneseaudiolessons.com, I love all the books they've made)

Spanish for Beginners by Charles Duff (I love all the textbooks Duff has written, they include learning by reading passages in the language)

Basic Patterns of Chinese Grammar by Qin Xue Herzberg and Larry Herzberg (great short grammar guide, helpful for identifying mistakes you may be making)

Tuttle, Learning Chinese Characters: A revolutionary new way to learn and remember the 800 most basic Chinese characters by Alison Matthews and Laurence Matthews (hands down my FAVORITE book to learn characters, helped me more than any other hanzi or kanji book or resource I've used, this is the book I constantly recommend to beginners)

Chinese Characters: Learn and Remember 2,178 Characters and their Meaning by Alan Hoenig (a good follow up book to learn more hanzi with mnemonic stories, but I'm forever disappointed this book doesn't incilude pronunciations. I prefer this book over Heisig's Remember the Hanzi, if you have to use one of them)

Reading Japanese by Eleanor Harz Jorden and Hamako Ito Chaplin (as I love by reading, I found this book, which provides a lot of reading practice and is a nice companion to another basic textbook like Genki)

A Japanese Reader: Graded Lessons for Mastering The Written Language by Roy Andrew Miller (this book has practice ranging from beginner to "learning to read newspapers and literary texts." I got it because a reviewer mentioned that after working through this book, they found they could easily read the newspapers and many fiction novels. The claim made me curious)

Rapid Literacy in Chinese, The Most Common Chinese Radicals, Intensive Spoken Chinese, all by Zhang Pengpeng (meant to be used together, teaches 40 conversational lessons and 1000 commonly used words and grammatical notes, 100 chinese radicals and basic structure of chinese characters, 750 commonly used words and 1300 words formed from them into 25 sentences and 25 conversational dialogues and 4 narrative prose pieces. It all combines to a quite solid foundation. This is an example of a decent beginner textbook option for Chinese, versus another textbook I found once which only taught 100 words - which was pathetically little)

[denimbex1986]

"Hello everybody, this is Andrew here; thank you so much for this incredibly, uh, shocking and wonderful honour. I'm so sorry I can't be there this evening, um, but I wanted to say thank you so much to Tricia Tuttle and the Berlin Film Festival for, um, the incredible reception you gave our, our movie last - last Monday. Um, thank you to Sony Pictures Classics, Richard Linklater, Ethan Hawke - total legends and beautiful human beings, and thank you so much to them for inviting me on this, um, journey, and to play this, uh, incredible part. Margaret Qualley, Bobby Cannavale, all our, um, wonderful cast and crew.

The last time I was at, um, the Berlin Film Festival before this was as a Shooting Star, uh, many years ago, representing Ireland, um, so, uh, it's completely wonderful that this film, um, which we shot in Ireland, in Dublin - in my hometown - is being honoured in this way. Um, thank you so much - I'm totally delighted, and, uh, so sorry that I can't be there to celebrate, but I hope everybody has, um, a beautiful evening, and thank you so much, and long live the Berlin Film Festival. Lots of love. *kiss*"

[xtruss]

(Left to right) Deborah Blohm, Jeffrey Epstein, Ghislaine Maxwell and Gwendolyn Beck at a party at the Mar-a-Lago club, Palm Beach, Florida, 1995. The names of former associates and victims of deceased sex offender Epstein have been released. AFP/Getty Images

Nearly 90 Names Were Included In The Documents, With Four Redacted.

Ghislaine Maxwell

Virginia Lee Roberts Giuffre

Kathy Alexander

Miles Alexander

James Michael Austrich

Philip Barden

REDACTED

Cate Blanchett

David Boies

Laura Boothe

Evelyn Boulet

Rebecca Boylan

Joshua Bunner

Naomi Campbell

Carolyn Casey

Paul Cassell

Sharon Churcher

Bill Clinton

David Copperfield

Alexandra Cousteau

Cameron Diaz

Leonardo DiCaprio

Alan Dershowitz

Dr. Mona Devanesan

REDACTED

Bradley Edwards

Amanda Ellison

Cimberly Espinosa

Jeffrey Epstein

Annie Farmer

Marie Farmer

Alexandra Fekkai

Crystal Figueroa

Anthony Figueroa

Louis Freeh

Eric Gany

Meg Garvin

Sheridan Gibson-Butte

Robert Giuffre

Al Gore

Ross Gow

Fred Graff

Philip Guderyon

REDACTED

Shannon Harrison

Stephen Hawking

Victoria Hazel

Brittany Henderson

Brett Jaffe

Michael Jackson

Carol Roberts Kess

Dr. Karen Kutikoff

Peter Listerman

George Lucas

Tony Lyons

Bob Meister

Jamie A. Melanson

Lynn Miller

Marvin Minsky

REDACTED

David Mullen

Joe Pagano

Mary Paluga

J. Stanley Pottinger

Joseph Recarey

Michael Reiter

Jason Richards

Bill Richardson

Sky Roberts

Scott Rothstein

Forest Sawyer

Doug Schoetlle

Kevin Spacey

Cecilia Stein

Mark Tafoya

Brent Tindall

Kevin Thompson

Donald Trump

Ed Tuttle

Emma Vaghan

Kimberly Vaughan-Edwards

Cresenda Valdes

Anthony Valladares

Maritza Vazquez

Vicky Ward

Jarred Weisfeld

Courtney Wild

Bruce Willis

Daniel Wilson

Andrew Albert Christian Edwards, Duke of York

[tuttle-4077]

Tuttle's Story Catalogue

Story 28:

Journey of a Little Deer

Follow Andrew J. Carter on his journey from a Lieutenant bombardier in England to a Sergeant Explosives expert at Stalag 13.

Broken into 5 separate parts, this story follows Carter from England, Belgium, Oflag 5, Stalag 13, The Netherlands, and, ultimately, back to Stalag 13. His journey is neither easy nor short.

Chock-full of OC's (including two suspiciously familiar BBC characters), Carter meets a colourful array of characters who shape his war experience.

This has been dubbed my opus. And, I think, it's probably the most in-depth Carter origin story out there. I figured most of the others had long, epic origin stories, so Carter deserved one too. I put this one together after a whole crapload of research and posted it all in one go.

I've been honoured by the response this story has received. @benevolenterrancy drew a piece of fanart, @vielmouse made a video, and @deaththoushaltdie bound it into a book.

After reading it over a few times, I think there's more I could have added to it to flesh it out, but it already clocks in at 100,000+ words. But, hey, I guess that leaves room for me to go back and write some one-shots to fill in some gaps!

There is a side-quel and a sequel in the queue, but, more than that, this story serves as a foundational piece (before it was even written!) to a lot of my Main Universe Storyline. The events here are mentioned in several other stories.

If you have time for a long story, and/or you love Carter, check this one out!

Chapters: 41

Words: 101,255

Universe: Main Story Universe

Reviews: 49 (I should note, I'm taking all my review stats from FFN)

Average Reviews/Chapter: 1.2

Deaths: Yes, Parker

PBAs: 2022 Gold Best Overall, Long Drama, Canon Character (Carter). Bronze OC (Suzanne), Challenge

[belphegor1982]

Find the word in your WIPs

I was tagged by both @rose-of-pollux and @tuttle4077 for a "Find the word in your WIP" game! Here are the rules: Find the words from the list in your WIPs and post the paragraph they belong to.

Thanks a lot :D They both gave me different words, too, so let's go!

I ended up using What Nightmares May Come (my long HH fic) a lot, if only because it's so long (64k+ words, gah, if only the inspiration could come back!!) but also from The Message (the follow-up to Mon Pays et Paris), three The Mummy WIPs, and one word from a Legend of Vox Machina somewhat long WIP. And since it got so long, I'm putting most of it under a cut ^^'

Tagging @thisstableground, @tinydooms, @laurelindebear, @teashoesandhair, @kabbal and @kaantt 💜

List of (new) words: chase | average | fast | minute | whole

sigh (from The Message, Hogan's Heroes)

“Did you clear that up with Colonel Hogan?” he asked. LeBeau stuck out his chin in a familiar show of stubbornness.

“Of course I did,” he said just a second too quickly.

Kinch shook his head.

“Man, now I know why you won’t play poker with Newkirk. He’d clean you right out.” He sighed. “LeBeau, you can’t just take a radio because you feel like it. Do you know how many of the guys miss listening to the Andrew Sisters or the World Series?”

hint (from A Fifth of Glenlivet, The Mummy)

The tea was light and slightly sweet, with a hint of mint. Egyptian style. Rick – though more of a coffee guy – had to admit that for what he considered to be lightly flavoured hot water, it wasn’t that bad, especially without the obligatory splash of milk generally favoured by the British.

heart (from Manifold, The Mummy)

She waits a little, enjoying the wind on her face and the shade the balloon casts over them; then she asks without looking at him, her voice very low, her heartbeat very loud, “Whom did you fall in love with first: Elizabeth, or Tom?”

toast (from In A Mellow Tone, The Mummy)

“Good Heavens. And I thought my parents had their hands full with me and Evy.” Jonathan put his palm into his hand and grinned. “How much of a scamp were you when you were a kid?”

“Not that much,” Harry said with a sharp smile, “but I usually got away with a lot, even more than Nellie did. You see, I didn’t often let myself get caught.”

“Sound philosophy,” said Jonathan, raising his half-empty pint in a toast Harry met with his own. “So you have four siblings?”

operation (from What Nightmares May Come, Hogan's Heroes)

The conversation in Klink’s office seemed to be over, so Kinch unplugged the coffee pot and replaced the lid. They were all thinking the same thing; all operations would have to come to a complete stop. The absence of the sub already meant they couldn’t go through with their orders of ‘assisting escaping prisoners’; but this meant that the other part, about ‘cooperating with all friendly forces and using every means possible to injure and harass the enemy’, was nixed as well if nobody could set foot outside camp.

_______________________

That's it for Tuttle's words! Now for Rose's :o)

sea (from What Nightmares May Come, Hogan's Heroes)

“Let’s hope that your escape will earn him a one-way ticket to the Russian front,” Hogan grimly quipped, his eyes serious. “In the meantime, you get to stay at the… ‘guerilla Hilton’ for a couple of days, we fit you with civilian clothes and official papers, and you do a little cross-country ‘round the German countryside. There’s a British sub in the North sea, a little off Wangerland. You’ll be in England faster than you can say ‘fish and chips’.”

star (from What Nightmares May Come, Hogan's Heroes)

Hogan whistled between his teeth. “So they’re basically stuck here for God knows how long?”

“Basically.”

“No chance of a plane, I suppose?”

“I asked. Apparently, if our guests were two-star generals, they would consider sending one.” Hogan didn’t miss the discreet sarcasm in his radioman’s deadpan voice.

pleasant (from A Fifth of Glenlivet, The Mummy)

Something loosened in the set of Jonathan’s shoulders.

“Good. Because if you’re planning to steal more toolkits for my sister then it’s better if… Well, you know. She’s had a lot flung at her because she has the gall to be a scholar and a girl, and ‘only half-English’ to boot.”

Something told Rick that particular turn of phrase glossed over many others, much less pleasant. Which both siblings probably had their own share ‘flung at’ them, come to think of it.

walk (from Underture, The Legend of Vox Machina)

Scanlan let his hand fall and rolled his eyes.

“Look, you don’t need to get your panties in a knot. I can see better than you at the moment, so the way I see it there’s only one way you won’t fall behind and get lost.” He walked back to Vax and thrust out his hand with a grin large enough to be obvious even in the dark. “Wanna hold hands?”

linger (from What Nightmares May Come, Hogan's Heroes)

“Oh, perfectly, Major,” Klink muttered in an almost defeated tone, resisting the urge to rub his temples. The lingering headache had been small this morning, the inevitable result of a restless night, but Hochstetter excelled in the art of making migraines in other people’s heads grow in a way even Hogan did not.

Thanks again :o)