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#Don Peterson
undergroundrockpress · 9 months
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Photo : Don Peterson, 1968.
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nsantand · 2 years
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Don Peterson – Compaixão
"Compaixão", um poema de Don Peterson
Ela podia ter meses de sua vida canina,mas para ser o quê? Ela estava leve como um ninho,o dia todo sob suas orelhas leporinasouvindo em seu próprio peito um rádio em desalinho.Na bancada de aço, sabendo o que aconteceria,ela tentou e tentou levantar-se, como se parasinalizar que ainda servia, e que deveriafugir de nossa seleção. Voltei então sua cara para a minha e vendo só amor ali – que a…
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jazzplusplus · 1 month
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1965 - JATP - Carnegie Hall - New York
Ella Fitzgerald, Oscar Peterson, Dizzy Gillespie, Buddy Rich, Flip Phillips, Roy Eldridge, Buddy DeFranco, Bill Harris, Ben Webster, Louie Bellson, Ray Brown, Don Abney, Herb Ellis
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aq2003 · 1 month
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[takes a long drag of cigarette and coughs] so basically i think david tennant has the range to play benedick AND claudio AND don pedro AND don john
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musicmags · 2 months
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goldoradove · 1 year
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Everyone was in their finest form for this party lol
[Family Reunion CAS Challenge by @faerie-tempest]
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anton-petrov · 8 months
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Random Premades Spawns
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Dora Ottomas + Kaylynn Langerak
Benedick Monty + Stella Terrano
Kimberly Cordial + Crystal Vu
Jessica Peterson + Patrizio Monty
Florence Delarosa + Jennifer Burb
Don Lothario + Cassandra Goth
Daniel Pleasant + Dirk Dreamer
Sharon Wirth + Mary Sue Pleasant
Darren Dreamer + Chester Gieke
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cloned-soldier · 2 years
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Fury Vine/Crack compilation (9/?)
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
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tahyirasavanna · 2 years
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The Astrology of Jordan Peterson
The Astrology of Jordan Peterson
King of the incels, custodian of the patriarchy, Jordan Peterson is known by many names. Often touted as deeply inspired by some, yet derided as a pseudo-intellectual by others, it may be hard to get a grip on what it is, exactly, Peterson actually represents. Hated by the political left and loved by the right– Let’s attempt to get a grip on this man of polarity. Jordan Peterson.Gage Skidmore,…
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taliabhattwrites · 2 months
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Transmisogyny is not about being a 'masculine woman'.
Hint #1: A lot of trans women, such as myself, are not particularly masculine. Some of us are, and I know several trans butches, but the majority of us perform femininity, often because we are punished and gatekept from care if we are not perceived as performing our "chosen" gender adequately.
Rather, transmisogyny is about--as May Peterson so excellently put it--rejecting the imperative to inhabit, embody, and perform manhood.
Read that again--transmisogyny is the specific corrective, policing mechanism directed at those of us who refuse to be coerced into the patriarchal notion of the "male sex", a refusal that is punished by specific manifestations of degendering, monstering, sexualization, hyperscrutiny, fetishization, and violence. We are treated as a combination of failed, neutered man and barren woman, marginalized on the basis of choosing to shape our sex and don the banner of womanhood while being unable to further patrilineality in a society absolutely fixated on and organized around the heterosexual, reproductive mandate.
The mechanisms underlying transmisogyny crop up in many places because the root of societal transmisogyny is societal misogyny and the over-arching structuring of our entire civilization into a regime of heterosexuality. That is not the same thing as everyone being subject to transmisogyny.
Because, to be blunt, at the end of the day, when the chips are down, we all know who's treated like a troon and who isn't. Those of us who cannot be absolved of the original sin of being branded with the male sex keenly understand it to be the source of our disposability.
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newintrigue · 2 years
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Dreaming of a better future
Dreaming of a better future
There’s an interesting flaw at the heart of Olivia Wilde’s new movie, Don’t Worry, Darling, which reveals everything wrong with the ongoing culture wars. The premise of the film is simple. A 1950s housewife is living with her husband in a utopian community. Frank, the leader of the community, is loosely based off of Jordan Peterson, the famous psychologist who has become a figurehead of the alt…
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undergroundrockpress · 8 months
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Eric Burdon and War / LP Back cover photo by Don Peterson - 1970.
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supercantaloupe · 2 years
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"would dominic seneschal gender jkr as a man? let's discuss" dinner convo with my roommate
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jazzplusplus · 1 year
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1956 - JATP - FestHalle in Planten und Blomen - Hamburg / Hambourg
Ella Fitzgerald, Oscar Peterson, Dizzy Gillespie, Roy Eldridge, Flip Phillips, Illinois Jacquet, Gene Krupa, Ray Brown, Herb Ellis, Don Abney
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The Round Two Contenders
Hello, all! As we go into round two, I'll be accepting propaganda for only the following nominees:
Sting
Glenn Gould
Link Wray
Curtis Mayfield
Bob Seger
Oscar Peterson
Eric Stewart
Klaus Voormann
Paul McCartney
Gene Autry
Rod Argent
Fang
Freddie Mercury
John Paul Jones
Sly Stone
Tom Scholz
Justin Hayward
Roger Hodgson
Bo Diddley
Rick Wright
Gram Parsons
Geddy Lee
Ray Manzarek
Sam Cooke
Jimi Hendrix
David Gilmour
Noel Redding
Fats Domino
Eric Burdon
Jim Morrison
Bjorn Ulvaeus
Smokey Robinson
Nat King Cole
Dave Davies
Ray Brown
Ron Mael
Ian Curtis
Arlo Guthrie
Micky Dolenz
Syd Barrett
Chuck Berry
Renato Zero
Bruce Springsteen
Al Green
Miles Davis
Bill Bruford
Charles Brown
Mickey Finn
Bob Marley
Eric Dolphy
Neil Peart
Alan Parsons
Brian May
Neil Diamond
Mick Taylor
Robin Zander
Billy Preston
Mik Kaminski
Tony Bennett
Mick Ronson
Steve Miller
Tony Levin
Johnny Cash
Stevie Wonder
Gordon Lightfoot
Frank Zappa
Ernie Ford
David Coverdale
Marvin Gaye
Buddy Holly
Marc Bolan
Rory Gallagher
Todd Rundgren
Willie Dixon
Joe Strummer
Carl Palmer
David Bowie
Alvin Lee
Rick Danko
Clyde McPhatter
Cab Calloway
John Oates
Kenny Loggins
Roy Orbison
John Fogerty
Richie Havens
Ricky Nelson
Denny Laine
Otis Redding
Dave Vanian
John Coltrane
Elton John
BB King
Dean Martin
Rob Grill
Don Henley
Russell Mael
Jimmy Page
Cat Stevens
Tommy Shaw
Robbie Robertson
Phil Ochs
David Byrne
Steve Winwood
Donald Fagen
Carlos Santana
Peter Hammill
Tom Jones
Bev Bevan
Clarence Clemons
Sammy Davis Jr
Robert Lamm
Bobby Darin
Johnny Mathis
Tony Banks
Robert Plant
Brian Eno
Benny Andersson
Barry Gibb
John Deacon
Pete Seeger
Phil Lynott
Andy Gibb
George Harrison
Mickey Hart
Prince
Jack Bruce
Keith Moon
Those in bold have lots of propaganda already, so they're low priority. Rules for submitting propaganda are in the FAQ. If there are multiple people in the photo, please tell me which one the propaganda's for. Good luck to the round two musicians!
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Bite
Summary: They're playing Bobby's old team.
Between worry and anger, Don doesn't know which one will win out.
Rating: Explicit
Genre: Hockey AU, Angst, Major Character Injury, Protective Don Hume, Car Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Words: 2671
A/N: for @sparrow-in-the-field !! thank you for sending me this idea, it was fun and emotional to write shdfajskdl
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AO3
or
There is a change to Bobby. 
Don can’t put his finger on it. It’s only been a week after all. Maybe it was the last game they played. They didn’t lose, but the talking they got from Ulbrickson was jarring at best. And Don knows as much as Bobby respects Ulbrickson, more often than not, they’re at odds. 
That doesn’t seem quite the problem however. From stilted smiles to short conversations, Bobby is somewhere else. No matter what Don says, all he gets is a wave, a reassurance that all is well. The helplessness carves into his chest and Don just wants Bobby to tell him the truth. 
Dinner is a quiet affair and when they’re in bed, watching a movie, Don finally tries again.
“You okay?”
Bobby is slow to turn from the TV, brows already furrowed. “Yes…? Why?”
Don shrugs, takes Bobby’s hand in his own. “You just seem a little off is all. Like something is on your mind.”
The sigh that leaves Bobby is drawn out, tinged with a hint of nervousness. “Have you looked at the schedule lately?” 
Don shakes his head. He doesn’t mean to lose track of games, but when it’s one right after the other, they tend to get lost in the shuffle. 
“We’re playing my old team soon.”
Don’s jaw tightens and he pulls Bobby close. Suddenly, Joe’s newfound attachment to Bobby makes sense. This day was bound to come, but Don worries that no one on the team is ready to handle what might be thrown at Bobby.
“Please don’t defend my honor or anything like that,” Bobby looks right in Don’s eyes. “Not that I wouldn’t appreciate it, but as much as I hate to admit it, Peterson is a damn good forward and we need you on the ice.”
A small sigh leaves Don. Bobby is right. If they want to sweep the game, they’ll have to be on their best behavior. No matter the anger that boils low in Don’s gut.
“Okay,” he nods. 
The corner of Bobby’s mouth twitches, a struggle to smile as the silence edges in. 
“I’m not going to let the puck get anywhere close to you,” Don promises. 
“I’m holding you to that.”
Don tilts Bobby’s head up, brings him into a soft kiss. Bobby’s sigh is heavy and Don just wishes he could take on every little thing that eats at Bobby. If only Bobby could never hurt again.
Bobby’s eyes are slow to open when the kiss ends and Don looks on with fondness. Entrancing doesn’t even begin to describe how Bobby looks, the way Don’s heart stutters. 
With a scowl, Bobby’s face turns red and he mumbles something under his breath. Don laughs at this, pulls Bobby onto him. The two adjust so Bobby is sitting on his lap and facing him. 
This earns him a quirked eyebrow, a sly grin, and Don knows the night has only just begun.
~
The locker room is tense. 
Any chatter is quiet, short. There is a cloud hanging in the air and Don chooses to focus on his stall. 
“Alright, boys,” Bobby clambers in, all dressed and ready to go. “I don’t want a single one of you in the penalty box.”
There are glances exchanged, a few nods. Joe’s mouth opens but before he can speak Bobby stops him. 
“Rantz,” he warns. “I know you’ve got some personal beef too, but what’ll really put them in their place is not letting them score a single goal. I know you boys can do it and I’ll be dead before I let a single puck get past me.”
“We’ve got your back, Bobby,” Roger reassures and the first smiles start to show. 
As tempting as it is to pull Bobby into a kiss, Don lets him leave the locker room with the first of the guys trailing behind. Throwing on the rest of his gear, Don is quick to follow, the mouth guard clamped tight between his teeth. His anger is unfamiliar, but he lets it settle deep inside, ready to jump only when necessary. 
The pre-game, the face-off is a flurry. Don is looking into smirking faces, catches a few choice insults when the ref is distracted. If his grip on his stick doesn’t snap it in half, slamming it into Peterson’s face will. 
But, Don does as Bobby asks. He doesn’t cave in to his emotions, keeps his head high. With Shorty and Joe with him, they’re a force to be reckoned with. Only once does Chuck have to get the puck out of Bobby’s zone. 
Then, one of the other players does the unthinkable. Don isn’t close enough, he doesn’t even see it happen until he hears Chuck’s shout. The game comes to a halt and Don scrambles over to Bobby. He’s on his hands and knees, head hanging low. His breaths are haggard and Don falls next to him, arm around his shoulder.
“He decked him!” Chuck yells at the ref. “His neck practically snapped in half!”
The ref is trying to calm Chuck and Don leans in close to Bobby. “What happened?”
“What Chuck said,” Bobby grimaces. “Fuck, I feel dizzy.”
Before Don can yell for Ulbrickson, he’s already there, kneeling on the other side of Bobby. 
“Let’s get you off the ice.”
“No!” Bobby shoves Ulbrickson and Don away, only to lose his balance. He falls against Don and winces. “I can do it, Coach.”
“Like hell you are,” Ulbrickson takes hold of Bobby’s arm. 
Bobby looks to Don for help, but Don has to take Ulbrickson’s side. It’ll be better to have Morry and take their chances than Bobby getting worse. 
With a frustrated groan, Bobby lets himself be taken off the ice. Don just wants to follow, but he stays rooted, gives Morry a nod as he takes his spot in front of the net. 
“Moch has you all eating out of the palm of his hand, doesn’t he?” 
Don turns to the voice, teeth grinding into the mouth guard. He gives an even stare to his opponent, hates the amused smile on the other man’s face.
“He must really be putting out this year. Got a pretty little mouth, doesn’t he?”
Don’s anger spikes but seeing Shorty hold Joe back out of the corner of his eye quells his fire.
“Yeah. Too bad you don’t get to have it anymore,” Don bites back. 
He skates to his position as the ref and coaches try to regain order. Don was determined to put their rivals in their place before, but now he wants them absolutely decimated. His boys match his energy and Don fights and fights. 
They win by a landslide and Bobby, now much better, pulls Don into a hug, almost sending him head over heels into the box. 
The locker room is full of energy in the aftermath and after Bobby’s reassurance that all he’ll have is a sore neck the next day, everyone splits off in their respective groups to rest for the evening. Outside of the locker room, Don throws his arm around Bobby’s shoulders as they walk down the hall. Bobby is already going a mile a minute, praising Don, gushing about Jim’s little trick that turned the other team on their heads. 
Don is just ready to cuddle with Bobby, but it seems life has other ideas. The hall is blocked with Peterson at the front, several other players around him, loud and joking. It’s their only way out and Don holds Bobby closer to him.
“Well, look who it is,” one of the guys calls out. “How’re you doing, Bobby?”
Bobby ignores it and Don tries to make a path for them. 
“Don’t be like that,” another attacks. “Come back to our hotel. Let’s make some more memories.”
Don’s heart breaks when Bobby flinches, but they keep pressing on. They’re outnumbered though he knows he and Bobby have a fighting chance. 
“How can you be with him, knowing what he does? He’s just a slut.”
They were almost free, but this is the last straw. Don turns on his heel, faces the rivals head on. 
“Don,” Bobby tries to stop him. 
“Yeah, that’s right. Defend the guy with the sex channel,” Peterson grins.
“You mean the channel that bought our penthouse apartment? Or are you referring to the fact that both of us are debt free?” Don is a charging bull and he doesn’t give the other men a chance to get a word in. “Not to mention how not a single one of you could score on him when he was in the net. Don’t know how you got into the leagues. And while you’re jerking off your useless dicks, I get to have amazing sex with the man you’ll never lay your hands on again. So, shut up before I knock out the last of your teeth.”
Grabbing Bobby, Don drags them out to the sanctuary of the parking lot. There’s no following footsteps but Don still makes sure the doors are locked when he and Bobby get into his car. 
“Sorry,” Don mutters before pulling out of the lot. 
Bobby is quiet their entire drive home and Don’s mind curses him. He just snapped, couldn’t stop the outpouring. It felt good to say all those things, but it might’ve been too much. He might have hurt Bobby.
When they get to their parking space, Don turns off the car and makes no move to get out. Bobby still hasn’t said a thing. 
“Bobby, I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
Don is slammed back into his seat with Bobby climbing on top of him and he crashes their mouths together. 
“Fuck, that was so hot, Donny,” Bobby pants between open kisses. “I wanted to fuck you right in front of them.”
Shock doesn’t begin to cover it, but Don returns Bobby’s passion all the same. He’s given no time to think as Bobby works open his jeans and he’s only shaken from his stupor when the car horn blares. 
“Shit,” Bobby leans forward. 
Don just laughs, pulls the seat lever so he can lay back to give Bobby some more space. Bobby grins and throws open the console where they keep lube just for occasions like these. He’s all over the place, about to grab the bottle before he’s trying to get his own jeans off. His sweater gets tossed into the back, but he keeps his shirt on as he finally frees himself from his jeans and underwear. Don barely has time to shove his boxers out of the way before Bobby is already stretching himself. 
So impatient he can be sometimes, but Don is endeared nonetheless. His hands trail up under the white shirt and he drags his nails along Bobby’s spine. Bobby whines at this, bites his lower lip as he shoves three fingers deep inside. 
It must hurt, but the smile Bobby gives Don isn’t pained at all. Instead, it steals Don’s breath away and he forgets himself. 
When Bobby lines up with his cock, Don just wants to shove all the way in. He needs to be consumed by every inch of this man. Never know a day’s rest without him. As if reading his mind, Bobby slams down pulling heady groans from both men. 
“Bobby,” Don’s head falls back against the seat. 
“Yeah, such a good boy for me,” Bobby breathes. He has one hand braced on Don’s chest, the other on the window. “So good.”
“Anything for you,” Don confesses. 
Bobby leans down to kiss him then. Don soars, sparks fly from his mind to his fingertips. Bobby is more than just his boyfriend. He’s both the storm and the calmness afterwards. He’s a kiss in the rain, the snow that melts in his hands. 
Don could cry at how lucky he is. 
When Bobby moves to lift his hips, Don sighs with all the love inside of him. He meets Bobby halfway and their bodies collide as they fall further into their hunger. Don can’t help but stare, locking his gaze with Bobby’s while he rubs a thumb along his lips, red and bruised.
“Touch me, Don, please,” Bobby begs, his hand fisting into Don’s shirt. 
He can’t say no to that. Don reaches for Bobby’s cock, stroking with a featherlight grip. It pulls a whimper out of Bobby and Don does it again just to hear that beautiful sound. 
Don can’t focus on just one part of Bobby. From his tight hole to his weeping cock, hair falling into his face, Bobby is a masterpiece. The parking lot is dark, but Don can still see Bobby’s eyes shine, blue like a diamond in the ocean.
Lost in ecstasy, Don squeezes Bobby’s sides, makes him cry out again and again. Bobby is almost there, his mouth dropping open, gasping, struggling for a single breath. Watching him fall apart is enough to drive Don over the edge, but he needs to see Bobby come. Needs to have his very being poured into him.
Bobby spills over Don with little warning and his moan shakes the car. It takes just a moment for Bobby to collect himself before he keeps moving on Don’s cock. Bobby teases him with slow drags, clenching his hole, but it’s more than enough.
“Bobby,” Don chokes out, slamming into Bobby, two, three more times before his own release crashes into him. 
Bobby falls on top of Don and the two hold onto each other as if this is their last moment together. The car seals them off from the rest of the world, a solitude so difficult to find some days.
“I love you. I love you so much,” Bobby whispers. 
Wetness falls against Don’s neck and in his worry, he pulls Bobby’s face into his hands. Bobby is crying, refusing to look Don in the eye. Don’s stomach sinks and he doesn’t know what’s broken.
He wipes at Bobby’s tears and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Bobby?”
It’s a tense moment as Bobby hiccups, mouth opening, but no sound coming out. Don can only hold his face, hoping his touch is some reassurance.
Bobby takes a slow breath, shaking and shallow, and his voice strains. “I don’t deserve you.”
Don doesn’t know what to say. He brushes Bobby’s hair from his face, keeps catching his tears. He would repeat his love over and over if it would be of any help. Before Don can, however, Bobby speaks up again.
“But I’m so happy, god, I’m so lucky I have you.”
Pulling Bobby back into a hug, Don squeezes him tight, rubs his shoulders. “You deserve the world, Bobby. I’m going to make sure you have it.”
Bobby sniffs, kisses the crook of Don’s neck. “You’ve given me that. All that and more.”
Don isn’t sure he’s earned such high praise. It’s Bobby who’s forged this new life for them. He’s the one that washes all of Don’s doubts away. But for Bobby, Don can convince himself that he’s done alright. 
After a few more minutes of just soaking in each other, Bobby finally opens the driver’s door. “Suppose we better,” he says as he peels himself off Don. 
He steps out, unashamed of his appearance as he grabs his discarded clothes from the back seat. Don’s thankful for the quiet parking lot as he takes off his stained hoodie and he waits for Bobby to pull on his jeans and shoes before they head to the elevators. 
Their hands are interlaced the entire way up and when they enter their apartment, Don tugs Bobby into one last kiss. They’re utterly exhausted, they’ll have to talk more in the morning, but for now, they can rest. 
As they crawl into bed, Bobby tucks himself into Don, arm wrapping around his waist. The warmth seeps into Don and he breathes, the world starting to make a little more sense. 
Bobby is his, to love and cherish, and he’ll be damned if anyone takes that away. 
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