#50 minutes lads

[paper-starz]

☎️

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50 MINUTES

[overdevelopedglasses]

Tojoctober Day 7 - Alliance

(Everything's in gray, waiting to be saved)

Alt title is from “The Answer”, the ending song to Astral Chain

Yagami takes a break to calm himself down. But it's in the most unexpected times that help arrives.

(slight spoiler warning for Lost Judgment, as this fic takes place in Chapter 8 of LJ, timeline wise.)

—-------------------

Yagami, whose head is spinning with way too many thoughts, finds himself grateful for the quiet time that he needed to kill. He had to go back to Seiryo High today, as Amasawa mentioned a couple of clubs were looking at progressing their tasks, and they still needed to look for the Professor. But with everything that had happened last night, Yagami just stares out at the waters of the city with a cigarette in his hand, trying desperately to get what he saw and experienced out of his head.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice breaks Yagami's daze.

"Wooooooah!"

Yagami looks toward his left, and sees a man absolutely gawking at him. What the hell?

"Uh, can I help you?"

The man seemingly registers his actions and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Oh, sorry, you just… you look so cool!"

He's certainly… enthusiastic. Yagami thinks, but isn’t going to deny a compliment.

"Oh! Thanks."

The two men stand a bit awkwardly, and Yagami takes the opportunity to size the other one up. Funnily enough, the man in front of him reminds Yagami of his partner. He looks slightly older than him, his hair is styled in a wild looking afro, and with the bright red suit and bat strapped to his back, he sticks out like a sore thumb. 

Then again, now that Yagami's out of Kamurocho, he does too.

"Uh, sorry, I don't mean to pry, it just looks like you were a bit lost in thought."

Yagami doesn't know how he drew that conclusion. Wildly, he finds himself being honest. Maybe it's the resemblance to Kaito.

"Well, a bit, I guess…" Yagami hesitates, and decides Fuck it, what else can go wrong in these 24 hours? "Bit of a weird question, but are you familiar with the underground of the city?"

The man looks at Yagami with a strange expression. "Why? Are you on their bad side or something?"

"Yes and no? It's complicated.” Yagami lets out a sigh, “A lot's complicated right now." He puts his cigarette out, staring into the water. In the water’s reflection, he sees the man lean on the railing next to him. 

"Yeah, I get that. It's like… you get way too much information all at once, and before you have the chance to process it, your whole world gets turned upside down, and you're left to pick up the pieces."

Yagami looks over, the other man's face in a solemn, yet soft expression. A flicker of understanding passes between the two of them.

Woah, this guy is perceptive.

"Right, to answer your question," the man clears his throat a bit, "Yeah, I know a couple people that work in that space. All nice people, honestly."

Yagami's eyes narrow slightly.

“Well, regardless of who you know, could you ask around for a handyman named Kuwana?” 

"Kuwana?" The man looks slightly confused.

"Well, he may not even be Kuwana…? I'm not so sure. This group, if you've heard of RK," the man gives a nod of understanding, and Yagami continues, "they're looking for Kuwana, or whatever the hell they’re calling him, and I have a feeling something bad is gonna happen if they get their hands on him. My friends and I are just trying to get to him first, and maybe figure out why RK is after him."

The man looks like he's deep in thought. It's at this point that Yagami’s conscious thought catches up with his instinct.

Wait, why am I being so open with this guy? Did I really just tell him about Kuwana? This could be really b-

"Yeah, I can ask around. You seem like a decent guy, so I can also put a good word in for you with my friends, uh…"

Oh right, my name.

"Yagami. Takayuki Yagami. I'm a detective, visiting from Kamurocho."

"Yagami-san! I'm Ichiban Kasuga. I'm from Kamurocho too! Anyway, yeah, I'll ask around for you. Do you have an easy way to be contacted?"

"Yeah. I'm good friends with the people at Yokohama 99, and here's my card in case I'm not there." Yagami digs into his jacket and hands Kasuga one of his business cards. Kasuga flips the card around in his hand before placing it in his jacket.

"Neat! Look for a buzz from me, Yagami-san. See you around!"

With a turn and a wave, Kasuga walks away. Yagami gets lost in his own thoughts, as he watches the wild man wave enthusiastically at someone in the homeless camp. 

Kasuga-san, huh? I'll have to keep him in mind. It's nice to know there are still good people around, despite their appearances. And despite… everything.

Yagami turns back to the slowly flowing waters of Ijincho, and he finds his mind has, thankfully, slowed down.

[russellius]

+

[ephemeral-winter]

not totally sure why a very kind and encouraging email from a friend from my last master's made me cry but will be taking it as a sign that i need to go to therapy more!!!

[sysig]

I’m able to load one new picture every five minutes of constant updating, so y’know

Sketchdump’s going well

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

the panic of getting a year 9 class after they had a substitute all last year. and some of their listening comprehension results are just dreadful.

i'm using old exams bc they have to sit these exams in the spring, but they've never once practiced with an old exam before. and the exams are in april. it is currently november.

imagine feeling this kind of "omg i can't do comprehension at a 9th grade level???" when the big exam is in 6 months

[octuscle]

New team member

The snowfall got heavier and heavier. Charles had expected anything, but not a snowstorm like this. It was early September. The weather forecast had mentioned precipitation and unusually low temperatures. But there had been no mention of snow. Almost everyone on the country road had summer tires. After a few minutes, the few cars that were still on the road that late were criss-crossing the road. And the snowfall became heavier and heavier. The next town was within sight. One by one, the snow-covered drivers began to leave their cars and fight their way through the snowdrifts towards the lights. Charles had only his suit and a light summer coat. He had hoped for help. It was getting colder and colder in the car. Finally, Charles also made the decision to look for help.

Fighting his way through the heavy and wet snow was more strenuous than he had expected. Charles was not particularly athletic. He was in his late 50s and a little overweight. The snowflakes melted on his bald head. He could almost touch the sports hall on the edge of town when one of his loafers got lost in the snow. There was a lot of activity inside. The local Red Cross had set up an emergency camp. Outside the door was a bus with a high school soccer team that had been on its way to a tournament. The young lads were kicking a ball in an empty corner of the hall. A few kids were playing on gym mats. Someone gave Charles a hot cup of tea. He asked for dry clothes. A young man, who was probably the coach of the soccer team, gave him a tracksuit. It was far too tight, but it was dry. Charles thanked him. He was dead tired. He was assigned a cot with a chair next to it where he could put his wet clothes. Someone from the soccer team had lent him a pair of adidas flip-flops. Even though he was ashamed of his paunch, Charles took off his sweat jacket and lay down under the scratchy woollen blanket wearing only his sweat pants. He didn't care about anything. He was dry, he was warm. And he was tired. Incredibly tired!

When Charles woke up at some point in the night, only the emergency lighting in the hall was on. It smelled of many unshowered people, of wet dog. And the chorus of snoring people filled the air. But that wasn't why Charles had woken up. He had a hard-on. An incredibly hard boner. He couldn't remember when it had been so hard. And the beast between his legs was enormous. He began to wank, moaning quietly with pleasure. Yes, he was in the middle of an emergency shelter. Dozens of strangers around him. But he was so horny. His cock needed to be worked on. In the semi-darkness next to him, Charles saw a man get up from his cot. "Chuck, you bloody bastard, let me do it!" Charles heard a voice say. One of the footballers pulled the comforter away and began to skillfully suck Charles' boner and balls. He found it difficult not to roar with pleasure. He had no idea how much he was blowing into the young man's face. But after he had come, he fell back into bed, his naked upper body soaked with sweat.

When Charles woke up, life had come into the makeshift dormitory. The coach shouted for his boys to get up, the snow had stopped, the roads had been cleared and they would be on their way in fifteen minutes. Charles wanted to wait and see. Then he could get ready in peace and set off in search of his car. He reached for his clothes to feel if they were dry. But he couldn't feel his suit and coat. He looked at the chair. A T-shirt, the sweat jacket, a jockstrap, a pair of dirty white socks lay over the backrest. On the floor was a sports bag with a soccer shirt, shorts and shoes. A cell phone. Headphones. Everything in a hopeless mess. "Does my center forward need a separate invitation, or are you going to get ready too, Chuck?" Charles heard a voice above him. Charles looked up questioningly. The coach yelled at him to get his lazy ass to the washrooms, the bus was leaving in ten minutes.

Charles grabbed the t-shirt, slipped on his flip-flops and headed towards the boys changing rooms. The smell was so familiar to Charles. Sweat and testosterone. This was the place where boys' chests slapped together after a victory in chest bumps. The place where he won every cock comparison. He scratched his best piece. He was getting hard again. From outside, he heard the coach yelling for him. His cell phone vibrated. While he pulled the device out of his pocket with one hand, he smelled it with the other. Sweat, cum and smegma. His scent, his trademark.

His mother asked if everything was all right. She was worried. Chuck took a photo and sent it with the text "Your son will make you proud today". From outside he heard a "If you're not on the bus in two minutes, you're on the bench for the next three games." Chuck knew that was an empty threat. He was the star of the team. Without him, they wouldn't be able to win. But you shouldn't mess around with a coach. So he pissed quickly, pulled his T-shirt over his lean body and gathered his things. "One minute, forty seconds," he said with a grin as he got on the bus. Coach playfully punched him in the chest. The bus started moving in mountains of slush. Chuck would take another nap during the ride. And afterward, he and his boys would bomb the opposing team off the field.

Chuck's pic found @milankotowyc

[crepesuzette2023]

Your top 5 favorite Mclennon quotes?

Hi Anon, thank you for asking! The following aren't quotes I'd construct into any kind of 'proof' (whether I'm into this or not is another set of footnotes, which I'll spare you), but quotes that illustrate that John and Paul's relationship was fascinating and intense, and puzzling to themselves and others (incl. yours truly). 1.) “Meeting Paul was just like two people meeting. Not falling in love or anything. Just us. It went on. It worked.” — John Lennon - The Beatles by Hunter Davies

2.) “Lennon had attitude, and, taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times, they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were ‘superior human beings’.” — Bob Wooler in Mark Lewisohn’s Tune In

3.) “John and Paul paired off - only to find themselves stuck together for life. For John, Paul was the boy who came to stay; for Paul, John was the song he couldn’t make better” — Rob Sheffield, Dreaming The Beatles

4.) TELL ME WHO HE IS. Early song by Paul McCartney, included in The Lyrics (2021). Written in the late 50’s/early 60’s, according to the caption. (photo of journal page)

Tell me who he is Tell me that you’re mine not his He says he loves you more than I do Tell me who he is

Tell him where to go Tell him that I love you so He couldn’t love you more than I do Tell me who he is

5.) John Lennon's word association list from 1976 New York: great Elvis: fat Ringo: friend Yoko: love Howard Cosell: hum George: lost Bootlegs: good Elton: nice Paul: extraordinary Bowie: thin MBE: shit John: great

BONUS TRACK: “I had signs that the group was gonna break up, because… I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away."— Paul McCartney (1985), link to interview here

PLAY IT BACKWARDS: "LONDON (AP) — John Lennon wrote vitriolic comments about fellow-Beatle Paul McCartney in a picture biography of the famed pop group, providing new evidence of the tensions between them, the Observer newspaper said Sunday. [...]

"Lennon marked almost every one of the 76 pages with corrections and comments, including one that the Observer took as an indication the group already was experimenting with drugs in the 1960s. [...]

"In an entry noting McCartney’s marriage to Linda Eastman, Lennon crossed out “wedding” and wrote “funeral”, the Observer said. [...]

"But in a final tender moment, the Observer said, Lennon wrote under a photo of himself with McCartney: “The minutes are crumbling away.” (full article.)

[hooked-on-elvis]

ELVIS' DEBUT ON TV — 📺 [CBS] The Dorsey Brothers 'Stage Show'

Elvis with Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey at CBS Studio 50, New York, March 17, 1956 [that would be Elvis' 5th appearance on their TV show, out of 6 total.].

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By December 1955 Elvis had still not made an appearance on national television. His manager Colonel Tom Parker negotiated a deal through Steve Yates with CBS's "Stage Show" for four appearances on the show in January 1956 at $1,250 each and an option for two more at $1,500 each.

On the January 28, 1956, Elvis was broadcast for the nation for the very first time, performing "Shake, Rattle and Roll", "Flip, Flop and Fly" and "I Got a Woman".

[ABOVE: the January 28th 1956 FULL PERFORMANCE]

On Elvis' first appearance on American television, Bill Randle, one of the most influential disc jockeys of the time, was the man who actually presented Elvis Presley to the nation. He said:

"We'd like at this time to introduce to you a young fellow, who like many performers, Johnnie Ray among them, come up out of nowhere to be overnight very big stars. This young fellow we met for the first time while making a movie short*. We think tonight that he's going to make television history for you. We'd like you to meet him now - Elvis Presley. And here he is!" — Bill Randle, Disc Jockey, the man presenting Elvis Presley to America for the first time. January 28, 1956.

After this, things would never be the same, specially the society. Such a good beginning for a year, that special day in a January month! ♥

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🎞️THE SHORT-FILM THAT NEVER SAW THE LIGHT OF DAY (for the general public... at least until now...)

The movie short Bill Randle referred to during his introduction to Elvis was "The Pied Piper Of Cleveland - A Day In The Life Of A Famous Disc Jockey" a short film made by Universal pictures about Bill Randle himself. Filmed on October 20th, 1955, at a concert in Brooklyn High School, Cleveland, it featured the stars Bill Haley & The Comets, The Four Lads, Pat Boone, plus the addition of a little-known Elvis Presley.

The original forty-eight-minute film was supposed to be cut down to a twenty-minute "short" for national distribution, but never made it that far. We're in 2024... 69 years went by since this shortcut was produced but the movie remains unreleased.

There is some dispute over whether or not this film actually exists, although it's said it was shown publicly, albeit only once in Cleveland, and excerpts were also aired on a Cleveland television station in 1956. Marshall Lytle, bass player for Bill Haley's Comets, corroborates the existence of the film in his memoir, "Still Rockin' Around the Clock", but he makes the unsubstantiated claim that Colonel Tom Parker, Presley's manager, bought the film and destroyed the existing copies. According to historians, tho, DJ Bill Randle, before his death in 2004, sold the rights to the film to PolyGram (it has been reported that Universal Studios has the negatives of the film in its vaults).

Much uncertainty about this short film, but can you imagine this film being release in Elvis' birthday centenary celebration? We watched, and listened, on Elvis' 89th birthday a few days earlier this year, to them playing during his birthday celebration at Graceland the original "That's All Right" record as it was cut at Sun Records studio in 1954, so who knows? There's always rare things surfacing here and there, so... we better keep our hopes this Bill Randle's 1955 movie, with some new 'baby Elvis' footage, will be release any day now [such as we know there's 'Elvis On Tour' and 'Elvis: That's the Way It Is' never seen before footage coming our way, as confirmed by the "Elvis" 2022 biopic's film director, Baz Luhrmann — finally! We hope it will be released soon].

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But enough daydreaming... Back to Elvis' 1st television appearances.

After the premiere on America's television on January 28th, 1956, Elvis would do five more appearances on 'The Dorsey Brothers Stage Show" for the next eight weeks. Those would take place on February 4, February 11, February 18, March 17 and March 24th, 1956.

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February 4th, 1956 | "Baby Let's Play House" and "Tutti Frutti"

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February 11th, 1956 | "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Heartbreak Hotel" *

* This is a special arrangement for 'Heartbreak Hotel', so good! Jazzy, dramatic, really rarity. I loved this! ♥

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February 18th, 1956 | "Tutti Frutti" and "I Was The One"

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March 17th, 1956 | "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Heartbreak Hotel" *

* This is the usual arrangement for the "Heartbreak Hotel" song. On February 11th, 1956, Elvis performed this same song onstage of 'The Dorsey Brothers Show' but it sounded something more… dramatic (I guess it matched the lyrics after all, but I love the usual arrangement better yet).

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And the last one... the 6th appearance on 'Dorsey Brothers Stage Show':

March 24th, 1956 | "Money Honey" and "Heartbreak Hotel" | [FULL PERFORMANCE]

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We can see how on those first TV shows Elvis still looks quite shy. Although he moves the usual lot, he doesn't flirt with his audience as much as he would on the upcoming TV appearances (and throughout his life, actually). It's funny how he grew comfortable with being in front of the cameras so fast tho. As his photographer Wiliam Speer said, "I guess you must really like being photographed."

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Elvis with Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey at CBS Studio 50 in New York, on March 17, 1956. That would be Elvis' 5th appearance on their TV show. 'The Dorsey Brothers Stage Show' (CBS) was the place Elvis debut in his TV appearances, on January 28th 1956. He would appear on the show for 6 times total, from January to March 1956. ♥

Performing on the 'Dorsey Brothers Stage Show' at the CBS Studio 50, New York City, on March 24th, 1956. His 6th and final appearance on the show.

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EDIT: THE BLUE MOON BOYS

I hate it when I forget to mention such important, trivial, facts — and this shouldn't be footnote info and I feel guilty it is now but I forgot mentioning — The Blue Moon Boys. I love them so much! I watch those footage looking at them as much as I look at Elvis.

Like, I love Bill Black's energy onstage! I love him hollering, vibing to their sound, as loud as Elvis (on occasion). I love how he seem to love chewing gum (Bill is chewing gum in some of those footage), because it makes me look at the Blue Moon Boys and Elvis as a unit, real close friend who look alike, just how it should be. We know although EP for obvious reasons can't chew gum while singing, he loooooved gum and kept this - should I say "habit?" - throughout his life. It's sounding silly what I'm saying, I know, but I think this Elvis habit in fact date from back when he was rocking onstage with Bill, Scotty and DJ Fontana and it makes my heart warm how close and similar they seem to be, as friends, real friends. Bill is actually said to be the one cheering the crowds onstage when they first begun performing, when Elvis was still learning how to be the great leading man he became. When EP was still learning how to act onstage, how to manipulate the audience, creating the mad passionate reactions he learned to create whenever he wanted, Bill was the one heating things up, joking with the audience, cheering, hollering. Bill is amazing! His energy is intoxicating, and we can see it clearly on those first TV appearances performances. ♥

--

I also love how hot Scotty Moore looks! I kinda laughed thinking 'Oh my goodness' ... So this thing about rock and roll bands always having hot vocalists and hot guitar players as a rule, it looks like it all started from the 50s with EP and Scotty! (really, at least the singer and guitar player in most rock bands are hot AF, am I lying? *lol*). I have a thing for Scotty... When he smiles at times on those footage, I'm like: 🤤🥹🥴🫠 And I also love how he's elegant but at the same time menacing looking holding and playing his guitar like the guitar hero he was. Really, if you haven't yet, do yourself a favor and read Scotty's book "THAT'S ALL RIGHT, ELVIS: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore", by Scotty as told to James Dickerson (1997). Scotty's life story is fascinating and as interesting as Elvis'. ♥

--

And last, but never least, I love how together, calm and concentrated DJ Fontana looks. Ok, unfortunately being the drummer has it's disadvantages. We can't see DJ Fontana as much as we see the other boys onstage, but I listen to the songs until the very last minute and it's amazing how the music always has the closing, the important and dramatic ending, done by DJ's talented hands. I love that guy. ♥

Elvis Presley and The Blue Moon Boys were the best rock and rollers! I love their energy together. As much as I adore 70s Elvis onstage, the TCB Band, the Sweets Inspirations and all, if I only had one performance of Elvis' I could attend, just one to choose, I would go for - undoubtedly - the 50s ones, when those guys, The Blue Moon Boys and Elvis, were playing together.

That's Rock and Roll royalty. ✨👑 ♥

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There you go. All the videos together so you can watch of them easily. ♥

[libraford]

Day 14/50

We got some brand new trash cans! But they stacked the fuckers inside each other like a rubbish matyroshka and no one can separate them.

So we had a couple guys struggling to get them apart.

"Someone get Jeff," says one of them.

Jeff appears. Hes a skinny lad, but he tries. They're still struggling.

"No get the other Jeff." Other Jeff comes up and replaces one of the other guys and it still wont budge.

"I think we need another Jeff," says one of the older guys. So they call Jeff #3 over and they struggle at it for a few minutes when the Fourth and Final Jeff comes up and says:

"Mind if I try?"

"Sure," says a chorus of Jeff, Jeff, Jeff, and Doug.

"Ok hold on," says Final Jeff. They sit back a moment and discuss other methods when Final Jeff comes back and attack the thing with a sledgehammer, freeing it from its brother in garbagehood.

All four Jeff's nod in approval.

This is why we all have nicknames.

[formulalfc]

okay so i'm about to go on a bit of a rant about how i was treated at the footie so feel free to move on if you're not particularly arsed.

i am a girl that goes to around 95% of the liverpool home games a season on my own, i chant, i call the ref a wanker, i chat to the guys that sit with me at halftime and most importantly i love my club and i love football.

so it makes me really upset that when i went to the football today and sat in the same seat i sit in at every game to watch my team play, i was told that i "do not deserve my ticket."

for context, about 20 minutes into the first half there was a 'foul' made by van dijk which i didn't agree with and so like many of the men around me voiced my opinion. this then caused a man (with a london accent btw) in his late 40's early 50's to turn to me and tell me that i didn't deserve my seat because of my "moaning" at the ref.

now this wouldn't have bothered me if there weren't at least 15 other men surrounding us who were also shouting at the ref, because instead of having a go at them he decided to have a go at the only female near him who he happened to know was alone.

i of course gave him a piece of my mind in return and simply asked him what time his train back to london was. of course this turned into more arguing which only stopped when i told him that his misogyny was becoming very apparent.

not only was his comment upsetting to me but the fact that not one person stepped in when he got in my face was also disappointing.

i am very aware that football is a male-dominated space and that no matter how many games i go to and how much i know about the sport i will never be treated on the same level as the male supporters. but it was very upsetting to hear the people around me sing "you'll never walk alone" and then watch that happen right in front of them and do nothing.

despite all this i will continue to go to games, i will continue to chant loudly, i will continue to call the ref a wanker, i will continue to chat to the lads that i normally sit with and i will continue to love my club despite the fact that some bell-end from london thinks i can't be a fan just because i have a vagina.

[houseofbreadpakoda]

Saudebaazi

It was 7 on a Monday morning. More than half the city was up, the traffic taking over the mellow atmosphere. Two ladies stood in front of an old house, with one rumbling her pouch trying to find the keys.

"Oho, hurry now will you?" Whispered Sarala.

"Hmm hmm" Damini replied shaking her head, trying to rid her mind of the daze.

Sarala and Damini had spent the night at their friends place, sipped on a little booze and passed out. This had led them to sneak back home this morning, hurrying between rickshaws and buses, avoiding everyone's gaze.

It wasn't easy for them to be out on such adventures. It wasn't easy for two widows. For two 50 year old widows. Especially when they were clad in white from head to toe. They had absently held each other's hands tight while sprinting back home.

The duo had grown up in the same neighborhood. Both being from extremely conservative families, had been married off at very tender ages. Damini was married to Vinayak, a rich bank manager when she was just two, whereas Sarala was married rather sold to an old man Jagadish, by her parents, to clear their debts, at eleven years of age.

Jagadish, lured by the dowry he received began to lament his job, barely turning upto work thrice a week. Spent all the money he had on gambling and alcohol. Within a year of his marriage he was thrown onto the streets. Eventually, lack of money had led to abuse.

It was Diwali, when Damini had rushed to Sarala's house to feed her the sweets she had made when she found her tending to her wounds, broken glass pieces scattered on the floor. She had tiptoed to Sarala, to find a slit on her forearm, dried blood surrounding the wound. The bastard had begun his wrath much before the sun had risen.

"Why can't I have a nice husband...?"

".....I can be your nice husband...." Damini had replied sheepishly.

"Arey, but how-"

"Or maybe I could be your nice wife?"

"......that would be nice." Sarala had said smiling.

Damini's Husband was no better. He would be out for days or sometimes weeks. And when he'd return, so would the abuse. He earned enough to buy ten white elephants, but never bothered to give Damini a penny. When he decided to eat at home, he'd buy the groceries himself, but when he was away Damini would have to make do with the little food Sarala managed to sneak to her everyday.

Both the girls, barely teenagers, spent most of their time together. They would tie gajras for each other, exchange anklets, braid each other's hair and apply henna on each other's hands and feet.

Jagadeesh's drinking eventually backfired, the man could barely pass a minute without breaking into a coughing fit. All Sarala had to do was sit back and watch him swallow the poison everyday, and within a few months, hopefully, he'd be gone.

One very fine day, when Vinayak returned home with a chicken in hand, Damini had accidentally dropped a chicken bone in the broth which he managed to choke on, while Damini had coincidentally left to fetch water from the well. Poor lad, choked on his food, struggled to breath and died.

Sarala and Damini were now widows, at the age of just seventeen. It was good riddance.

After all they had good company ;)

.

.

.

This was supposed to come out months ago, but I was dumb fuck and forgot about it so here it is. My first non-fanfic series.

Tagging: @janaknandini-singh999 @talesinmyhead040122 @tenderhood @vijayasena @yehsahihai and whoever else wants to be tagged really

[thislovintime]

The Monkees with CFUN DJ's Terry David Mulligan and John Tanner in Vancouver, April 1, 1967.

“Regina: CKCK’s Terry David Mulligan claims to be the first Canadian air personality with an interview with the Monkees and he has a tape to prove it. Anyone wishing a copy can take Mulligan up on his boast by sending him a blank tape and he will return a dub to sender. Terry also did a 30 minute Christmas show with Peter Tork, his sister and brother. They sang cuts from the Monkees new LP (Mulligan sings too)[,] sang a few carols and just chit-chatted in a relaxing mood.” - RPM Canada, January 28, 1967 (this Christmas 1966 anecdote was previously posted here and more about Christmas 1967 here)

“History records that The Monkees played their first Canadian concert in Winnipeg on April 1/1967. What never gets mentioned is that the first time all four Monkees set foot on Canuck soil was many hours earlier, in Vancouver, while en route to Manitoba’s capital city. Top 50 radio station CFUN assigned two deejays—Terry David Mulligan and John Tanner—to meet Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Michael Nesmith and Peter Tork at Vancouver International Airport. A photo op ensued in a private waiting area as the lads waited, shortly after sunrise, to board a connecting flight. 'If you study that picture, you could tell two of the guys (Davy and Peter) were really into it and the other two (Micky and Mike) didn’t really want to be there,' recalls Mulligan (second from right in photo). 'They weren’t pissed off at us. They were just tired and weren’t particularly into having their picture taken that early in the morning.' Nevertheless, all six exchanged pleasantries. Despite the early hour, Davy Jones seemed friendly and 'Mike Nesmith was so whip smart, while Micky Dolenz had this interesting Hollywood vibe about him,' remembers Mulligan. Terry and Peter got the opportunity to renew acquaintances. The previous year, when Mulligan was spinning discs at CJME Regina, 'who should walk in but Peter Tork. Of course, I asked: "What are YOU doing here?" And Peter answered: "My dad (Halsten John Thorkelson) teaches at the University of Saskatchewan and I dig your radio program."' Peter would take a couple of additional breaks from Monkees commitments to visit his family. Each time, he’d visit Mulligan at CJME. 'We’d always have really good off-air chats, in between as I was playing records.' For his part, CFUN deejay John Tanner (second from left in photo) boarded the plane bound for Winnipeg with The Monkees. 'I remember being at the tail of the plane while The Monkees and their entourage were much further forward. I walked up there at one point and noticed some of them were sleeping. So I went back to my seat as I didn’t want to bother anyone.' Prior to the late afternoon Monkees concert at the Winnipeg Arena, Tanner said he killed some time walking 'what seemed to be the coldest streets in Winnipeg.' Indeed, band insider David Price would mention the frigid 17 degrees Fahrenheit daytime temperature when he subsequently wrote a four-page article titled My Life With The Monkees—That Wild Canadian Weekend for 16 magazine that detailed the April 1 concert in Winnipeg and the ensuing show in Toronto on April 2. Price, who also served as a decoy for Davy Jones (in addition to other band duties), claimed The Monkees came to Canada aware of rumours that attempts might be made on their lives during the two concerts. In the 16 magazine piece, Price wrote: 'Mike asked me and his friend Charlie Rockett and Mike’s wife Phyllis’s brother Bruce Barbour to make sure that any packages that landed onstage were thrown off again, because one of them might contain a bomb.' In the end, the only ‘bomb’ at the Winnipeg show was a water bomb hurled at Micky Dolenz atop the seven-foot high stage just before opening song Last Train To Clarksville. Seconds before, the four Monkees burst out of phoney amplifiers on either side of the stage, with the boys having hidden themselves within when the house lights were momentarily turned off. Likely backing up The Monkees onstage was Candy Store Prophets. If so, that band’s members—including guitarist Tommy Boyce and keyboardist Bobby Hart—had played on many early Monkees studio tracks that Boyce and Hart produced. Winnipeg-based Electric Jug & Blues band opened the show. Press reports later revealed that before the concert, rambunctious fans charged past about 30 police officers as the band left the Hotel Fort Garry for the arena. Monkees publicist Don Berrigan described the incident as a 'near riot' adding 'Mike and Davy were knocked down. It was really nasty.' There were apparently well over 400 police and security inside the arena. Perhaps it was the security concerns that resulted in Winnipeg and Toronto fans receiving slightly shorter concerts than about a dozen previous American shows in late 1966 and early ‘67—13-song setlists, three less than south of the border. The Winnipeg concert marked the first time Peter Tork-sung Your Auntie Grizelda, was played publicly. 'He really dug it, and so did the audience,' wrote Price. [...] Back in Winnipeg, after final song I’m A Believer, the band rushed to limos to return to the hotel, before taking an evening flight to Toronto. A subsequent Canadian Press article noted that one policeman was taken to hospital after a wire retaining fence collapsed on him when 'thousands of fans surged towards the rear exits in an unsuccessful bid to catch a glimpse of their departing idols.' The officer was treated for cuts and abrasions and released. The official capacity of Winnipeg Arena was 11,800. But Price claimed that several hundred additional tickets were sold just before showtime, resulting in an attendance closer to 12,500. Later that Saturday night, The Monkees checked out of the hotel and headed to the airport in what Price described as near-blizzard conditions. For his part, CFUN deejay John Tanner got a kick out of the 'wild and crazy' show he had just witnessed. 'It was kind of a thrill being there.' The photo taken back in Vancouver earlier that day would be published in the April 8 copy of the C-FUNTASTIC FIFTY survey given away at Greater Vancouver record stores. Part of the photo ID read 'They said it couldn’t be done' — likely a veiled reference to doubts that The Monkees would trek north for concerts so soon into their existence.” - Richard Skelly, Facebook, April 1, 2022 [x]

[cantsaythetword]

TickleTober Day 1: Secret

~A/N  - WELCOME TO TICKLECROWBER EVERYONE!!!!! (hehehehe see what I did there)

Our first fic comes from This Anon who asked for a heartstopper fic where Nick's rugby practice leads to the reveal of a tickly secret.

I am preparing this fic in like August lmao (at least, that's the goal) and I am currently finishing up my Europe Trip so if any fics are late then that's why hehe.

But yes! On to the fic!

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: [none]

Masterpost Link 

Tickletober 2023 Masterpost Link

Early season football practice always led to new surprises.

Teammates coming and going, new height and weight differences since before summer break, and realizing just how much of an effect the September holiday break had on everyone's fitness.

But, eventually they all blended into the same pattern. And Charlie had gotten quite used to watching Nick slide around in the mud of the pitch.

It was about 50 minutes in to the session, and there's only so much football Charlie could watch before zoning out. Absentmindedly letting his eyes gaze into the distance, the morning mist clouding the field his boyfriend was practicing on.

Then a squeal.

At the sound of his boyfriend's cry for help, Charlie practically vaulted over the half-height fence surrounding the pitch and sprinted towards the newly-formed crowd.

By the time he made it across the pitch there was a near-solid wall of people. But what is an impenetrable fortress against the love of two men? Ignoring any other input entering his senses, Charlie pushed past the onlookers of the rugby team and stumbled out into the small clearing.

Perhaps he should have listened to the giggling sounds coming from the center before acting so rashly.

"For someone who's a nightmare to get tackled by, you sure go down easy when you're on the receiving end mate." Someone teased from behind Charlie.

So that's what had happened. He thought with a soft smile, as Nick fought off a few pairs of threatening hands.

"Guhuhuys thihis is cheheating!" Nick laughed, feet kicking dirt away from himself as he tried to gain some sort of traction to move away from his attackers.

"Cheating?" One of the boys tickling him scoffed playfully. "S'not our fault you drop like a sack of bricks if a hand brushes past your side!"

"I dohoho nohohot!" Nick denied, though based on the situation he had found himself in all evidence suggested otherwise.

"I don't think even Charlie would take your side right now mate." The boy continued his attack for a few moments before looking over his shoulder at the man in question. "Would you?"

Charlie let out an amused snicker or two, his eyes flickering to the ground and back up again, and shook his head. "I had no idea you were ticklish Nick."

Nick let out a flustered groan, his hands briefly covering his reddening face before being forced back to protecting his stomach with a yelp.

"It's cute." Charlie laughed a little, crouching down next to his boyfriend and running a few fingers over Nick's neck.

"Chahahar!" Nick squealed, scrunching his shoulders. "Nohot you toohoo!"

"What? Does it tickle?"

"Chahahar!"

"Alright lads," One of the older guys chuckled, breaking up the party. "I reckon we'd better get back to practice."

There were a few murmurs of agreement, and some whines of complaint, but soon enough the boys dispersed back into their positions.

Nick however, was left to giggle his way to recovery on the floor.

"Don't worry." Charlie grinned into Nick's ear.

The boy shivered with a giggle. "Chahar..."

"Your secret's safe with me."

[ineffablydelighted]

[Good Omens, Two weeks after S2 events...]

Nina: *bumps in* Okay, where TF is he, again?

Maggie: Hello, sir 👋

Pub owner: *sighs* Hello. Same as usual. Someone will have to pay the-

Nina: *slams two 50s on the bar* Here, done. *is under the impression she became the parent of a probably immortal being going through his first teenage heartbreak but with a middle-aged man body and a liquor license*

Maggie: *to the pub owner* Sorry about that, she's... Excuse-me... *follows Nina*

Crowley: *wasted**barely understandable**slams an empty Talisker drink on the table* StUuRpId ASSssAnGeL...

Nina: You have to STOP doing that. We have lives, you know?

Crowley: *unnatural lying position* 'nd bery short at tha', yea, I know tha'. Arn't ya' so luckeh?

Maggie: Please, Sir, you need to go home...

Crowley: *dour laugh* Yeaaaa, well, it's not asif I had tha'.

Nina: *sighs* You live in Mr Fell's Bookshop with Inspector-Naivety-Incarnate-something. Remember?

Crowley: Ah, yea, maybe, huh... *pointing an uncertain finger at Maggie* *high-pitched voice* ey, don't ya owe me rent?

Maggie: *ever seen a very pale cinnamon roll? Ya have now* Well, I...

Nina: *would cross her arms if she hadn't done that already**offended**protective almost-girlfriend* I have paid for your "coping method" a couple thousand pounds by now you didn't feel the need to repay me, so I think you should be careful before demanding any rent! Oh, and should I mention I've spent that in the course of A SINGLE WEEK?

Crowley: *looks at her with the sudden need to throw up**or to break something* No nehd to be... To be... Watevah. This is bullshit! *first sentence he somewhat says perfectly for some reason* My, my point is... Is... Bluh. He's so... BLUH!

Nina & Maggie: *look at each other in we've-heard-that-from-Monday-to-the-next-Monday**opposites face expressions though*

Crowley: *faints because he wants to* *hides his face under his 1941 hat*

Nina: Oh, no! No, no, no! That is not happening! *shakes him* Oy, wake up! I do not have all night!

Maggie: *whispers* Be gentle with him, Mr Fell is... you know...

Crowley: *ignores them**but is also listening*

Nina: *out loud* He behaves like my sister Chantel when she learned that Justin Bieber was dating Selena Gomez! Except that, my sister was fourteen at the time, not- I don't even know! How even old are you?!

Crowley: *shows his face again**yells* WHO CARES?! He's... He's... *proceeds to imitate Gollum's voice to perfection* Stupid fa- fantastic Magisshit-

Nina: Okay, enough. *grabs his arm agressively* Get up!

Maggie: *takes his hat from the floor and his glasses from the table* I don't think he can...

Nina: He can and he will! Go on, get up!

Crowley: *makes himself fall back on the sofa**loves behaving like a 5 yo having a tantrum* NEH! I-I I am NOT...

Nina: Do you want us to abandon you here?

Pub owner: *from afar* If you don't put your uncle out, Coffee girl, I swear...

Nina: *points a very menacing finger* Don't you dare "I swear" me! I "I swear" people, not the other way around, especially not when I have to deal with that excuse of a... a... man! *couldn't come up with something better*

Crowley: Imnottha' but...

Maggie: There is no need to fight, we... *looks at Crowley having somewhat of some tears in the corner of his eyes* He's just... heartbroken, you see?

Crowley: *almost inaudible* I'm noot.

Pub owner: Yeah, 'figured. That's no good reason! Whenever he's here, every customer leaves in under ten minutes for some reason and that isn't good for my business!

Nina: Coming from the lad whose only job is to take advantage of other people's misery, that's rich.

Maggie: Nina, you...

Nina: *grabs Crowley by the first ankle she sees* It will mess up your hair but I am ready to make you slide out of here even if that is the last thing I'll ever do.

Crowley: *falls to the floor**doesn't care* I'd like to see tha'

Nina: Fine, you asked for it. *grabs his second ankle**makes him slide for two meters before almost giving up**to Maggie* What are you waiting for? Take him by the armpits if you have to, but help me!

Maggie: *wants to do exactly that**doesn't know what to do with her hands for a second**puts Crowley's glasses and hat on to free them**grabs Crowley by the armpits* Okay, okay, One...

Nina: *holds herself from laughing at Maggie's new improvised look**is not even in the mood to anyway**lifts Crowley up**realizes she's the only one doing so**offended look*

Maggie: I... Sorry. I thought we would lift him up at three and...

Nina: *sighs in I-ve-never-signed-for-this-but-here-I-am* Maggie, Angel, please, you're not helping.

Crowley: *out of nowhere* ANGEL! 'Ngels... arn't vey djust...

Nina: Three.

Crowley: *does not mind being lifted by two struggling humans**mumbles* I 'ate 'is sturpid hair...

Nina: Of course you do. Careful the corner, Mag-

Maggie: *hits her hip* Aouch!

Crowley: *more to himself* AND his stupid fess...

Nina: *to Maggie* Careful, I said! If you really want to hit something, hit him! *looks at Crowley*

Maggie: *passing by the bar**to the Pub owner* Sorry about that, have a good night.

Crowley: *less and less understandable* 'nd 's mooth 'hat says 'turpid sings...

Pub owner: Whatever.

Crowley: 'ike "'omoshun is Ineff-neffably 'wesome wa doon't ya' kom wis meh dishtroy thee uni-universs?"

[The doors of the pub ring their departure]

Nina: We really should *Crowley is heavier than she expected* consider *like, really* create a law to oblige pub owners to have *humpf* bedrooms in the back of their establishment!

Maggie: We're *sore arms but still going strong* lucky he lives *breathless* right across.

Nina: *forces open the Bookshop with her hips that don't lie*

[Yeah, there is no way you can escape the Shakira tune now, is it?]

Nina: *right after Maggie has completely entered* Okay, let's drop him here.

Maggie: The couch is right th-

Nina: *drops Crowley's ankles* He can find the couch himself. As far as I am concerned, the floor suits him just fine.

Crowley: The service her' is terr-terrib-bluh!

Nina: Yeah, well, feel free to contact customer service and leave one star.

Crowley: *raising an invisible glass* Happeh to. *threatens to throw up*

Maggie: *to Crowley* Will you be alright?

Crowley: No-PUHHHH.

Muriel: *runs from God knows where towards the group* Oh my God, how is he?

Nina: Same as yesterday. And the day before that. I think he has an alcohol problem.

Muriel: You can be funny just looking at a bottle? Interesting.

Nina: More like looking at a dozen in three days but, who's counting? Certainly not him.

Crowley: *pointing a finger at the Sky* Ya' owe meh a f***ing 'usical!

Muriel: How can I help him?

Nina: You can't. Not really. He has to get through it by himself, as we all do at some point.

Muriel: I'm... confused. Is he... like... sick, or something?

Crowley: A mu-... A mu... si... *faints*

Maggie: Yeah, I believe you can call it that. It is... some kind of... sickness.

Muriel: Not a human sickness, then? *has forgotten she is, obviously, also a human called Inspector Constable* I-I mean, well-

Nina: Apparently, beings like him can catch those as well. Go figure.

Maggie: Maybe... Maybe put a blanket on him?

Nina: He does not deserve it, but yeah, you can do that.

Muriel: Okay, I'll... Sorry: what... is a blanket?

Nina: *sighs* I'm done for tonight. *leaves**comes back* Maggie?

Maggie: I... I think I'll stay for a while.

Nina: Right. It's not as if you had a shop to run in what? Five hours?

Maggie: You told me yourself nobody ever comes to my shop, so...

Nina: *shrugs her shoulders* Sorry, I'm too tired to apologize. Good night, everyone. *to Crowley* Not you. *slams the Bookshop's doors unintentionally*

[Awkward silence]

Maggie: *to Muriel* So... A blanket. It is... like, a, a cloud... but... rectangle.

[octuscle]

How to become the fuck whore

Lawrence was ruined. Really broke. He had lost his job. He had lost his apartment. And the suitcase containing his last belongings had been stolen. Now he stood in the rain on the street and waited for a lightning bolt to strike him. That would have been the best solution. He was now in his late 50s, had never furthered his education, was unathletic. He didn't see that there was any perspective for him.

Just as he was considering whether he should really throw himself off a bridge, a group of obviously drunken partygoers came by. "Dude, you look like shit!" one of the young lads said. "Do you need help?". It didn't matter now, his dignity was already shot to hell too. So Lawrence started crying bitterly and outlined his story. The lads around him were embarrassed at first. But then one started grinning whispering with the others and interrupted Sebastian's lament. "Dude, come join us. One of our roommates is abroad for a semester. You can have his room for a few days."

A few minutes later, Lawrence was sitting in the kitchen of the student housing community. He had taken a jogging suit from the closet of the lad whose room he was staying in. A little tight in the waistband. A little loose at the top. The lad obviously had an athletic build. It did feel a little strange to be an old man sitting among all the young studs. The lads all knew each other from sports college, two were assistants there, three were still studying. All well-built and picture-perfect alphas! He didn't fit in here. But Lawrence had no choice either.

After three beers and a joint, his eyes fell shut. He excused himself and threw himself on his bed. As he fell asleep, he noticed the smell of sweat in the bedclothes. And he wondered why such athletic young people were drinking, smoking and smoking pot. But he didn't care. He had already fallen asleep.

When he woke up, the sun was shining. He had to orientate himself for a short time until Lawrence remembered where he was and who he was. In any case, he was well rested. And he felt better than he had in a long time. He went to the bathroom of the shared flat in his borrowed jogging suit to pee. And one look in the mirror confirmed it: the night had been good for him. Maybe everything really was going to be okay. The bathroom looked like he had imagined the bathroom of a student shared flat would look. Dirty, untidy. So he made himself useful. The others seemed to be still asleep, in any case he didn't hear a sound. When he was done with the bathroom, he continued in the kitchen, where there were still weeks of dishes. And while he was dishwashing, two of the lads came into the kitchen. Obviously both had been jogging, sweat glistened on their bare torsos and they were breathing heavily. Sebastian handed them both a glass of water and asked if he should make breakfast. The two lads grinned at each other and exchanged a fistbump. And ordered scrambled eggs and coffee.

For the rest of the day, Lawrence cleaned the apartment until you could have eaten off the floor in every room. He'd also been to the laundromat, and for the evening he'd made plans to iron the clothes. The lads came and went, had food made for them in between, and had no problem leaving a trail of devastation behind them each time. But Lawrence thought it was only fair to tidy up and clean again. In the process, he found himself getting a stiff cock more and more often at the sight of the lads. Why did they all have to walk around the apartment bare-chested, too. Or directly completely naked.

For ironing Larry was allowed to come into the living room of the shared flat. The lads were lounging on the sofa watching a football game. Every now and then, someone would ask for a beer or a sandwich, and Larry would interrupt his ironing to go to the kitchen. It was late when he was finally able to go to bed. But he still wanted to clean up the last remnants of the TV evening before he went to bed himself. In the process, he had already taken off the top of his jogging suit. And while cleaning the bathroom mirror, which was already smeared again, he noticed that he didn't look so bad with his naked upper body. And as he lay in bed, he noticed that his room was the only one where the beds were not freshly changed. And it hadn't been cleaned yet.

When Larry got up the next morning to get rolls and make breakfast, something was different. The top of his jogging suit was stretching across his chest. And he had trouble pulling his pants up over his thighs. Maybe he'd have to go through the closet later to see if he could find something better to wear. But now he had to hurry. The first of his masters would be leaving for their morning jog in a moment. By the time they returned, he had to have breakfast ready. As soon as he got back from the bakery, he had to take off his sweatshirt. Way too tight. Besides, it was rude to cover his tits when he was allowed to see his masters'. And his tits were something he was proud of. He was proud of his whole body. But as his masters' cleaning slave and fuck whore, he also had an obligation to do his best.