#LOOK IN ANY WINDOW 1961

[schlock-luster-video]

On January 29, 1961 Look in Any Window debuted in the United States.

[theoutcastrogue]

Cartoon depictions of the homeless increasingly reflect the hostility of today’s political leaders toward people on the streets. We’ve gone from images of charming hobos with bindles to zombies taking over cities. If you consume any news at all, you’ve probably noticed that the United States is pathologically cruel to its homeless citizens. This May, the brutal killing of Jordan Neely—who was strangled to death, at the age of 30, simply because he was unhoused and shouting on the Manhattan subway—captured the national spotlight, but it was just one of many such cases of unprovoked violence. In January, two cops reportedly kidnapped a homeless man in Hialeah, Florida, drove him to an “isolated and dark location,” and beat him unconscious. That same month, art dealer Shannon Collier Gwin faced battery charges after he sprayed a homeless woman with a hose outside his San Francisco gallery, barking “Move! Move!” at her. (Predictably, Gwin got a lenient plea deal of just 35 hours of community service.) Elsewhere in the city, homeless San Franciscans have been attacked with chemical bear spray on at least eight occasions. Other assaults have been more impersonal but no less vicious. On July 14, the city of Houston abruptly closed its only public cooling center in the downtown area, potentially condemning anyone without shelter to suffer heatstroke in 90-degree weather. Among the property-owning class, the phenomenon of hostile architecture—sidewalks with spikes that stab anyone who tries to sleep, benches with iron bars, and the like—has become de rigueur. The widespread callousness and lack of compassion are both infuriating and hard to comprehend. How on Earth, we might ask, did things get this bad? [...]

Looking back at older cartoons, one of the things that stands out immediately is the absence of negative attitudes toward the homeless. In fact, during the Golden Age of animation, creators seemed to have had a real affinity for the poor and unhoused, often placing their most iconic characters in that role. There’s a wonderful 1948 Warner Bros. short called “Riff Raffy Daffy,” in which Daffy Duck is looking for a place to sleep—first on a park bench, then a trash can, and finally a furniture display in a shop window—and has to dodge the harassment of the police, as represented by Porky Pig in a little blue uniform. (Literally, the cop is a pig!) Or, in the 1950 cartoon “Homeless Hare,” Bugs Bunny’s rabbit hole is destroyed by a new construction project, leading him to unleash his usual slapstick mayhem against the developers until they put it back. In these cartoons, homelessness is something inflicted on people by outside forces—gentrification and the real estate business, in Bugs’ case—and something which can be successfully resisted. Even Disney cast a homeless dog as a romantic lead in 1955’s Lady and the Tramp, contrasting Lady’s sheltered naivety with Tramp’s superior knowledge of the world. The title invokes the memory of Charlie Chaplin’s “Tramp” films, which similarly brought dignity and humanity to the role of a homeless man. (Bugs Bunny, too, takes inspiration from Chaplin, and multiple Warner animators have drawn him as the Tramp.) In 1961, Hanna-Barbera’s profoundly underrated Top Cat followed the adventures of a gang of wisecracking Manhattan alley cats, who, like Daffy, are always outwitting a meddling policeman. At worst, classic cartoons may trivialize the suffering and danger associated with homelessness—there’s a certain recurring image of the carefree hobo carrying a bindle, which paints the whole subject in a romanticized light—but the homeless themselves are rarely disparaged or made the butt of the joke. Quite the opposite. 

It took a few years, but cartoons caught up to the Reaganite turn. In episodes from the ’90s and early 2000s, there’s a palpable shift in the way homeless characters appear compared to earlier decades. The perspective is different: we’re now seeing them through the eyes of comfortably housed characters, rather than their own. Often they don’t even get proper names. [...] This trajectory leads us, perhaps inevitably, to SpongeBob SquarePants. [..] Squidward gets accused of stealing a dime by his comically greedy boss, Mr. Krabs, and quits his job in a fit of outrage. We then flash forward to see Squidward, now bedraggled and unshaven, living in a cardboard box on the street and begging for change. [...] Mercifully, the ever-cheerful SpongeBob gives Squidward a place to stay—but the moment he’s safely off the street, Squidward turns from a sympathetic victim of circumstance into a lazy, entitled freeloader, straight out of a Reagan speech. He makes no effort to find work and loafs around SpongeBob’s house for ages. [...] Eventually, an exasperated SpongeBob writes “GET A JOB” in his alphabet soup, before shoving him (bed and all) back to work at the Krusty Krab. [...] Worst of all, though, the episode suggests that homelessness can be solved on an individual basis if the people in question simply stop being lazy and “GET A JOB.” This is the biggest myth of all. In 2021, a statistical analysis by the University of Chicago found that 53 percent of people in homeless shelters, and 40.4 percent of unsheltered people, do have jobs. The problem is that their wages are too low, and rents are too high. According to statistics from the same year, it’s impossible for someone working a full-time, minimum-wage job to afford a single-bedroom apartment in 93 percent of U.S. counties, and there are no states in which someone can rent a two-bedroom space on the current federal minimum wage of $7.25 per hour. In other words, homelessness has little or nothing to do with personal responsibility, or lack thereof. It’s a consequence of large-scale economic decisions made by landlords and bosses. [...]

— Alex Skopic

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Do You Want To Know A Secret (Teen!George Harrison x Teen!Lennon!Reader)

A/N: Hello, Happy Easter! I'm posting another oneshot, because why not? I feel like it could have been a little better than what I wrote, but I was in a bit of a rush to get it out. Who doesn't love some George?

Summary: It's 1961. You're John's sister and he refuses to let you talk to anyone in his band (and vice versa) despite your house being their practice location. George scores some alone time with you one day, and sings you a little song he composed for you.

WARNINGS: SUGGESTIVE BEHAVIOUR; the reader is pretty confident in this oneshot. Mentions of sex, but nothing further than a heated make out session/ neck kissing really occurs in this. Swearing, probably, but I could be wrong. George starts out shy but he is not by the end. There are probably some typos as well oops.

This one is T rated, but just read at your own risk because as mentioned, sex is discussed

It was 1961, a relatively warm Friday evening after dinner, where an eighteen year old George Harrison was accompanied by a nineteen year-old Paul McCartney, on the way to the Lennon household.

Band practice was that night, the newly renamed "Beatles" preparing for their next gig at the Cavern Club just that following evening. George had his guitar case in hand, and Paul, his base, as they walked and talked.

John's house could be spotted from where the two were now, and George, who was talking in that moment, lost train of thought when he spotted someone just outside the front door.

That someone was you. John's little sister. Aged eighteen; like George.

George could feel his heart fluttering as he watched you move around the front garden, watering can in hand as you tended to the little flowers in the window planters.

"Don't stare," Paul lightly chided in a sing-song tone, wagging his finger at George when he came back down to earth, cheeks flush at the idea of having been caught looking.

"But look at her," George groaned, hand gesturing towards you haphazardly before dropping it down helplessly at his side. "Just look at how perfect--"

"And off limits," Paul added quickly.

"... she is," George sighed as he finished his sentence, a rather upsetting frown on his face. The boys had since halted walking, making sure to be far enough away that you weren't in earshot of their conversation.

"Look, Harry," Paul rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder in comfort. "I know how you feel. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think she was a looker, y'know?"

Paul and George glanced over at you for a moment, before he continued.

"... but if I had a sister, and three lads who couldn't keep their eyes off her, I couldn't say I wouldn't be doing what Lenny's doing right now."

George knew that Paul was right. As much as he hated it, John loved you very much, and was cautious of any guy trying to be near you, especially now that you were a young adult, and not some child.

Every time the band gathered at John's house, everyone seemed to be under a microscope-- including you. The boys weren't allowed to talk to you, and you couldn't even look at anyone without your brother hollering at you to get upstairs, or to refocus back to your homework, or whatever task you had at hand.

But in moments like this, where the protective older brother wasn't around, George took every chance he could to greet you with a smile on his face.

And he wasn't going to stop now.

"I get it, mate. I just... there's something about her." That's the simplest George could have explained it to Paul. He wasn't about to disclose that he dreamt of you almost every night, or that he relished in the moments of excitement and anxiety of being able to see you, if only for five seconds out of his entire week.

And he certainly would not have told him about the songs he was composing; his muse being you, of course.

It was all just one giant secret, and as much as George wanted to tell you, all he thought of were downsides in result of revealing such a thing to you.

George thought that you, for starters, were leaps and bounds out of his league, he was scared of being laughed at, and he would have been absolutely horrified if John were to ever find out.

The negatives drastically outweighed the positives, so he was better to keep his mouth shut.

George and Paul continued their trek to the building, and when they finally made it to the walkway leading to the door, you turned your head, smiling gently and waving to them once you realized who it was.

"Good afternoon, lads," you greeted politely, and George nearly melted at the sound of your voice.

"Hello, Miss Lennon," the boys responded in unison. George cringed a little at that, pushing through the door with Paul following close behind. As much as he wanted to stick around, he knew it would have been too risky.

And thank God he made made that choice. John was waiting for them in the main foyer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't seem too happy, but he wasn't quite pissed off, either; almost as if he were in limbo of the two.

"'Bout time yous showed up. Me n' Pete've been waiting forever. C'mon, now." John waved his hand as he headed for the basement stairs, and the boys wordlessly continued on so they could begin their practice. George only looked over his shoulder once before descending the steps, hoping to have caught just one more glimpse of you, but to no avail.

"We have a show tomorrow, and you boys decided to be a quarter of an hour late!" John complained on as he threw his guitar strap over his shoulder. Pete was in the corner of the room on his drum set just shaking his head as he grabbed his drumsticks and tapped a little on his instrument. he must have been there for a while already.

Paul and George hurriedly grabbed out their instruments, apologizing so the older boy's complaints would cease. "As long as you're ready to play now, I don't care."

John always got sort of tense when the other three boys were over, hyper-focussed on keeping you away from them and vice versa. He was more or less worried about Paul trying to flirt with you, so a lot of John's poor behaviour stemmed from that.

Little did he know that it was actually George who'd fallen head over heels for you.

But that wasn't something to worry about in that moment. What was important was that practice began, and that they had to see improvement before their show just that following night.

Practice was going well. They had been at it for nearly an hour at that point, and the more they worked, the more pleased each boy was with the sound. They took a brief pause for some water, and John was rifling through his pile of lyrics sitting on a table in the corner of the room, trying to decide which one to practice next.

As George finished the last drop of water in his glass, John piped up, "I don't have all my songs here. Must've left them in my room."

"Which ones?" George asked, empty glass still in-hand. "I'm running up for a refill, might as well grab that for you as well."

"I think I left them on my desk at the side. You sure you don't want me running up?"

George swatted his hand as he started for the stairs. "Don't worry 'bout it. Be back in a jiff."

George hopped up the stairs, leaving his glass on the kitchen counter next to the sink before moving down the main foyer. He paused at the front door to peek out the window to see if you were still outside, but he didn't see you from where he was standing. He sighed gently before turning and making his way up to the second floor.

George made his way down to John's room at the end of the hallway. It was the only room with the door open, and before he even made it into the room, he could see the pile of lyrics on the desk, right where John said they'd be.

He picked up the pile, shuffling through them and counting the pages as he did so. He took one more brief glance around the room to make sure he wasn't missing anything else. When he decided this was all he needed, he turned on his heel and headed out to the hallway.

George was just about to make it to the stairs when he felt someone take hold of his arm, and swiftly tug him into one of the other rooms. The moment was a blur for him, and it took him a second to piece together what happened. He was standing in the middle of the room-- your room.

And you were only three feet away from him, back against the door, and cheeks glowing pink.

"Hello," you smiled gently, and George had no clue what to say, pages clutched tightly against his chest as his brain swirled with millions of thoughts.

"Hi," he squeaked, face burning in humiliation at his flustered state, but he was in your room, for Christ's sake. Your room! He had no clue what to say to you, mouth hanging open as he tried to search his brain for some other words.

"Look, I know we're not supposed to be doing this," you expressed, and George could feel his heart doing violent flips in his chest, especially when you pushed yourself off the door to take a step or two closer to him. This was the longest conversation he had with you, to date.

"Johnny would kill me if he knew I had a boy in my room, you know," you took a moment to pause, and all George could do was nod his head in agreement, intoxicated by the way you walked, and the way you talked. There was a hint of something in your voice... but the boy couldn't quite place what it was. Yearning? That couldn't be right... could it?

"But where's the fun in that, huh?" You asked, hands clasped behind your back, eyes staring right back into his, and George couldn't help but break his gaze first, utterly intimidated by your confidence. His eyes fixated to the dress you were wearing, and he could see a playful smile dancing on your lips in his peripheral.

"... You like what you see, Georgie?" You asked lowly after a moment, and his stare shot back up to your face again, certain his legs were numb. The nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, so perfectly. The things it was doing to him...

"I..." he could barely speak, breaths ragged. Not one coherent thought was at the forefront of his brain, other than one simple word.

"Pretty." Your smile was a little more genuine now after he said that, and you reached a hand up to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear.

"You think I'm pretty?"

George just nodded again. It was only now that he realized how much shorter you were compared to him, as you were only a foot away from him; the closest you'd ever been. He was looking down at you, but you were, in no way, intimidated by him. It was actually quite the opposite.

"You know, Georgie, you're pretty handsome, yourself," you professed, smiling wider as George's face burned even hotter.

He couldn't even thank you, scared of what would have happened if he tried to utter any kind of response to you. You reached out to rest a hand on his arm, and your smile faltered just a little.

"You're really tense... am I making you uncomfortable?" George's eyes widened, swallowing nervously as he shook his head 'no' as quickly as he could. He didn't want-- whatever this was-- to stop. The sincere upturn of your lips returned, and George couldn't help but flit his gaze down to your lips.

If only he had as much confidence as you, he might have just dipped down to have a taste...

"Look, I don't wanna keep you any longer. I know Johnny's gonna be looking for you soon." You thought for a moment before mentioning, "usually after you boys leave, he's down there for another hour or so practicing his own songs. Come back and see me after, yeah? Get to know each other a little more?" You raised an eyebrow expectantly, and George nodded his head again.

"Okay," he managed to whisper, resulting in you rising to your toes, and wordlessly pecking him on the cheek.

He felt like he was dreaming.

"Run along now, before they get suspicious!"

George's feet, though seemingly glued to the floor moments before, took off quickly, opening the door, and disappearing out into the hallway, shutting it closed behind him. As soon as he was on his own, he sighed heavily, the rush of oxygen in his lungs making him feel light-headed.

For someone who seemed so innocent in the open, around others, George could never have guessed how much of a minx you were behind closed doors. One part of him was still in denial that his interaction with you was even real, let alone meant to be flirtatious in any way...

But man, he would have been stupid not to take you up on your offer. It was just another hour he had to spend practicing, and he'd be right back in there, hopefully earning another kiss on the cheek from you.

George looked at the lyric papers in his hands one last time before sighing one more time, and going back downstairs. He passed his forgotten water glass in the kitchen, mind on an entirely different planet.

He returned to the basement, handing John the papers. He thanked the younger boy, pausing for a second to watch him move to grab his guitar.

"Where's your glass, Harry?"

George tensed when John asked that, hand on the neck of the guitar.

"... Left it upstairs,"  he responded.

"Thought you were grabbing a refill?" John's inquiries had George grasping for what to say next, but he was quick enough.

"Refilled the glass up there, drank it, and figured I'd be fine for the rest of practice."

His confession, though a lie, was believable enough for John, who just nodded his head slowly and drew his attention to the papers after a second, discussing which song they were going to practice next.

George just flew under the radar then, and he mentally cursed himself for being so careless. He look a quick glance at Paul, who was giving him a look; almost as if he knew something happened up there.

But he would never know the truth.

The shared glance fell apart when John advised everyone to get into position for playing, and they did just that.

The hour seemed to drag, George felt; but as time moved on, the more anxious he began to feel again. By the time everyone was packing up to leave, he was almost vibrating with anxiety.

He wanted to be close to you again so badly, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself as he had in the last interaction.

Pete, Paul, and George wished John a good night, and climbed the stairs to the main floor in that order, leaving John alone to continue practicing. Pete left Paul and George in the main hallway with a little wave, and a short "see yous tomorrow," before taking off out the front door.

Paul grabbed the door handle next and turned back to George, who stood in one spot a little too far away from the door.

"... Not walking home with me?" He asked in confusion, and when George didn't have a disposable answer, the pieces seemed to be finally clicking for the other boy.

He opened his mouth as if to lecture George on how bad of an idea sticking around would be, but instead, he tightened his jaw, shook his head, and waved to him.

"G'night Harry," he tossed a little wave out before taking off into the dusk.

He was alone now.

That could only mean one thing.

George eyed the stairs, knowing that if he turned on his heel and walked out right then, it'd be one of the biggest mistakes in his life. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was nervous; intimidated by you, and your assertive, rather sexy behaviour from earlier.

He took a deep breath, grabbing the railing, and hiking up the stairs slowly.

He stood outside your bedroom door much longer than he would have liked to admit, taking deep breaths and reciting words over and over again in his brain, as if this whole interaction were scripted-- as if he knew what was going to happen.

When he finally composed himself properly, he rapped on the door gently, hoping you would hear his presence on the other side. When you finally came around to open the door, his heart skipped a beat.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," you voiced softly, leaning against the doorframe, handle still in hand. You sounded a little relieved, almost, seeing the boy on the other side of the threshold.

You were in your pyjamas, a set that showed enough skin on your arms and legs that it made George, red-faced, shake his head to reactivate his brain, which pretty much short circuited.

"You goin' to bed?" His words left his mouth faster than he realized he was even saying them. Sure, it was getting late out, but would you have really changed if you were expecting company?

"Well, that depends. Will you be joining me?" You were so quick on your feet in response that it honestly impressed George, the heat returning to his face as he tried to think of what to say next, not daring to drop his line of sight below your chin.

"I'm only teasing you," you laughed after a moment of watching George squirm, pushing off the doorframe and allowing him to enter your bedroom again. As he passed you, he caught sight of you gazing up his body, shrugging and adding a little "... maybe," to the end of your sentence.

You were such a tease, and George set his guitar case off to the side, facing away from you, so he could hide just how giddy and flushed he was just being in there with you again. He rose to his feet and turned to face you. You were only a few feet away from him again, eyes on him intensely, smile still present.

"... I hope you know just how glad I am that you came back," you expressed again, honestly. George raised an eyebrow at that, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wanted to tear his gaze from yours so badly, but your face was just so gorgeous to look at, and he didn't want to be caught looking at your outfit again; he knew some more teasing would surely ensue if he was caught staring.

"Why wouldn't I come back?" George replied bashfully, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Wouldn't miss a chance to be here, with you, for the world."

Your stare softened at his words, beaming as your own cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. George wasn't sure you were really expecting something like that coming from him. "... You really mean that?"

George desperately wanted to elaborate a little further, but he just settled on giving you a little nod, smiling back shyly at your question.

"Maybe I thought I might've scared you off for being so forward earlier," you admitted timidly as you turned on your heel. You took a seat at the edge of your bed, and George surveyed your movements, eyebrows lifting a little when you reached out to pat the empty space next to you on the mattress after a moment.

"Care to take a seat?"

George accepted the invitation, and you felt the bed dip when he sat down. His eyes cast down to the floor, face still red at the idea of being in your presence; having your attention.

"You know, Georgie... my brother can be pretty stupid sometimes. But making this house the place for band practice, I think, was one of the best decisions he's ever made."

His eyes met yours again at your words, and you shrugged one of your shoulders.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't been dying to talk to you. Or get to know you. You seem so kind, and you're so attractive, and John wants to keep you away from me, and I'm so sick of him deciding what's best for me."

Your eyes cast down between the both of you for a moment, and George could feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest. His fingertips felt numb, mouth hanging slack as you continued your profession.

"I knew the only way to get close and alone with you was to bring you in here. And I saw the way you were looking at me earlier, and I had to get you to come back."

It felt like the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Was he really that obvious when he was in here last?

"It's thrilling... having a boy like you in my room, while John's clueless out there as to what we're doing. What we could be doing..."

George's mind was going places he was never expecting it to that evening, especially with the help of you voicing it aloud. He was in utter disbelief of what you were telling him, convinced he'd fallen asleep throughout the day, and he was caught in some blissful dream he wished would never end.

"I feel a little selfish, springing so much information on you at once... but every time I see you, I desperately want to be with you; and today, I had to jump to take that chance. I couldn't wait another week, another day."

You smiled sheepishly, not really expecting George to say anything after that. You were honestly just trying to get your thoughts off your chest, and now that you had, you felt a lot better. You were also pleased with the little look of shock on George's face. You liked doing that to him.

You decided to break his trance by nodding over to his guitar case sitting on the floor. "So... You have plans to serenade me, Georgie?"

Your question definitely brought him back down to earth, and he took a quick glance at the case before looking back to you. Your confession was still ringing clear in his head like a bell. He felt he didn't have the words to admit his feelings as clearly as you had right on the spot...

He did, however, have the words pre-planned as lyrics, in a multitude of original songs he wrote for you.

"... I do, actually," he agreed, standing up to open his case and retrieve his instrument. George was feeling a little more excited now, knowing any girl these days would swoon at the idea of having music written for them, and he just hoped you would too.

He returned to the bed, deciding against tossing the strap over his shoulder. He faced you so you could hear and see every little thing he did. He was at least glad he didn't get performance anxiety on the guitar.

He gently strummed out a few different notes, deciding in his head which song he wanted to perform for you. One in particular stuck out in his mind, and he couldn't deny that it was the perfect choice.

He was a little worried about how you'd feel about his playing, and the lyrics, but he wanted to show you that he could be confident about this, especially since he was nearly certain now that his feelings were reciprocated. But he had to play it cool.

"It is a work in progress. I've only half of it written, but I really think you'll like it," George explained to you before allowing the notes to fill the air around you both.

"Listen,

Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise not to tell?

Closer,

Let me whisper in your ear,

Say the words you long to hear,

I'm in love with you."

It was only then that you realized this was the first time you'd ever seen, or heard George play. This beautiful genius was being hidden away from you this whole time, and it was a blessing to see his work up close.

His left hand slid along the fretboard so easily, thumb and fingers on his right tickling the strings as if it were second nature to him. You couldn't decide which hand you wanted to look at. His digits were skillful on the instrument, and George made sure to almost exaggerate his movements to impress you.

He pretty much had you in a trance, now, daydreaming about what else those hands could do...

"I've known a secret for a week, or two,

Nobody knows, just we two,"

George had been worried the whole song about messing up the notes, eyes so focused on where his fingers were going... But he glanced up at you, realizing how hypnotized you were, like putty in his hands, and he decided there was nothing to worry about.

He decided to sing right to you now, soft eyes on your face, and when your field of view locked with his, he knew he wouldn't dare break the stare.

"Listen,"

This wasn't a song anymore.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

This was his confession.

"Do you promise not to tell?"

His way of showing you what you really meant to him.

"Closer,"

He wasn't clouded by any insecurities or doubt anymore.

"Let me whisper in your ear,"

Your gaze flitted down just enough to watch George's canines poke out from behind his lips as he sung, and your eyelashes lowered at the sight of his beautiful mouth.

"Say the words you long to hear,"

Your mind was absorbing the lyrics like a sponge in water, every single word eliciting a feeling so strong in your heart, you could hear it pumping in your ears.

"I'm in love with you."

George hummed away as he played the final notes, a little smile still on his lips when he let the last chord ring out into a room of silence.

When that stillness remained for a moment, George couldn't help but ask with a little bit of hesitation, "Well... what do you thi--"

He couldn't even get the rest of his question out before you darted at him, lips smashing into his as if he were about to disappear forever.

He let out a little surprised hum before he pulled the guitar out from between the both of you, and you took it as an opportunity to push your body closer to him, arms wrapping around his collarbone.

He blindly set the guitar down to lean it against your bed, and when he let go of the neck of the instrument, his hands went for your hips, squeezing your sides gently before pulling you right up into his lap. your actions bloomed a type of self-assurance within him he had no idea he could even possess.

It was your turn to squeal excitedly, but George's lips on yours muffled the sound. One of his hands snaked around to the small of your back before it slipped under your shirt, his palm dragging up your spine. His fingertips took note of each vertebrae it dipped up and down into, like the frets on his guitar.

This, George decided, was better than a dream. This whole situation unfolding around him made him feel as though he died and went to heaven.

He pulled his lips away from yours, free hand reaching up to grip your chin and directing you to tilt your head up. His lips suckled on the side of your neck, and the sound coming from your mouth was absolutely euphoric to him. But he removed his palm from your chin to cover your mouth, his other hand still feeling and memorizing every curve and dip in your back.

"You must be quiet, Love. Wouldn't want your brother knowing about all this fun we're having up here, eh?" Your eyes rolled back at his words, groaning into his hand as you felt George drag his teeth gently along the column of your throat.

Knowing you were enjoying this as much as he was only brought more confidence to his actions, and he let his tongue poke out to leave a large, wet kiss on your collarbone.

You were squirming in his lap, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging so he knew he was doing everything right.

He groaned at the friction you were creating at the hips, and he pulled away from your neck to kiss your lips again after removing his hand and placing it on the back of your neck.

You swallowed his moans as you continued to grind in his lap, but both of your movements paused when you heard the guitar come crashing down to the carpeted floor. It wasn't as loud as it could have been, but it was loud enough.

You both kept an ear out, knowing that might have caught the attention of someone downstairs, and when you began to hear footsteps shuffling around, you began to panic a little, eyes wide and darting back to George, whose face was flushed from the assault of your kisses, and hair was a tangled mess from your fingers.

"You gotta hide," you rushed out quietly, and though you tried to climb out of George's lap, his hands kept you planted right where you were.

"What are you doing?!"

"... What if I didn't?" He challenged you a little, a daring smirk at his lips.

"Had you not been so naughty, with all that moving and teasing, the guitar wouldn't have fallen, eh? And we wouldn't be in this situation at all." The points of his canines were showing again, and you groaned at his words.

"George, I'd love to continue this, but John will kill you if we're caught, and we can't do this if you're dead!"

"Well then we just won't get caught," he responded simply. He was blinded by desire, his confidence seeping out of him like sap from a tree as he placed his mouth back on your neck.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and you both heard a knock, George not showing any sign of stopping his actions.

"Don't come in, I'm-- I'm not wearing any clothes!!" It was the first thing you could blurt out to whoever was on the other side.

"Oh, baby, that'd be a sight to see," George mumbled against your skin, pulling your top down just enough so he could suck a dark spot just above your left breast so you could easily hide it away, and you sighed heavily at the contact, face burning red.

"Just heard a loud thud. Just making sure all is okay," it was John on the other side; completely oblivious to the actual scene occurring on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, a book from my shelf was knocked over! N-nothing to worry about!"

George grabbed your chin again when you were finished talking, shoving his tongue right into your mouth as you both heard John respond with, "oh, okay. Just making sure you're alright. Have a good night."

You listened closely as the footsteps quieted, and when there was no sign of anyone else on the second floor, let alone at the door, you pulled away from George's kiss.

"Well... how was that?"

"Risky," you replied, a rather unimpressed look on your face as you unraveled your arms from George's shoulders and crossed them over your chest.

"Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, Love," he tried to give you another kiss, but you placed your fingers against his lips. It was your turn to smirk mischievously.

"You know what, Georgie... I think you've had enough action for tonight."

You could see the smug grin fall right off George's face as you removed your hand. Surely you had to have been joking. But when you pushed a little to get off him, his arms fell to his side, a little pout on his face.

"You're serious? Love, you got me all hot and bothered..."

"George, you really thought we were going to go all the way tonight with other people in the house?" You laughed out loud at that; and when you said it like that, he would have had to agree that it did sound ridiculous.

"Trust me, Georgie, I want to," you placed a hand on his cheek in comfort, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he looked up at you as if he was the shy boy you interacted with just an hour before.

"But we both know doing that in an empty house would be far better than having to keep quiet about it, huh?"

All George could do was imagine that situation, eyes drifting shut, and tilting his head into your caressing hand.

"You're such a damn tease," he mumbled, eyes blinking back open after a moment.

"All good things come to those who wait," was all you said, leaving one, sweet kiss on his lips before pulling away, and nodding to his guitar. "We better pack you up and send you home."

You watched as George situated himself, placing his guitar back in the case, closing it and picking it up. You wrapped your arms around him gently, planting another kiss on his cheek.

"By the way... I think that song was beautiful," you whispered to him, and when you pulled away to see him smiling at you, you couldn't help but match the grin on your own lips.

"See you next week? Same time?"

"You don't even have to tell me twice," George responded with, and you just had to lean in for one more smooch on the lips, to which he eagerly reciprocated.

He then opened your window up, and took a step out. You watched as he climbed down the corner of the house slowly, and before he took off down the road, he blew you a kiss, to which you mimicked catching with your hand.

As George headed home, the sun now fallen over the horizon, those intimate moments he shared with you were at the very forefront of his mind. His hands could still feel your bare skin under his fingertips, and his mouth tingled as he remembered what it was like to have your lips on his.

He was just craving for the next moment he had alone with you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: And there we are! hope you all enjoy this, and I hope your Easter weekend was full of sun, and fun! Please let me know if you want to read more so I know it' worth it to post!

Permanent Tag List

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[captivousfest]

Captivous 2024 Masterlist View the AO3 collection here

Again! A HUGE thank you to all authors and artists for your work and participation and excitement! May Tom, Harry, and Voldemort continue to be captured, and captivate you!

Rated G

My Real Target... It's You by @evadne01 (HadrianPeverellBlack) Words: 627 Tags: Royal Prince Tom Riddle, Possessive Tom Riddle, Young Tom Riddle, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Knight Harry Potter, POV Harry Potter, Good Harry Potter, Kidnapped Tom Riddle but not really, Kidnapped Harry Potter, Obsession, Kidnapping, Rescue Missions, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Harry comes to rescue the lost prince Tom from the cursed tower of Lord Voldemort! (But little does he know that this was all a ploy to capture and cage the real jewel, Harry himself.)

Forgotten not Foresaken by @Laserswordtraining Words: 9,279 Tags: Death (Harry Potter), Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Obliviated Voldemort, Amnesia, horcrux reabsorption, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Old man Tom Riddle, Blind Harry Potter, Kidnapped Harry Potter, Happily Ever After Summary: Voldemort wakes, not having any memory or any idea who he is, and determined to figure it out, the only thing he finds familiar is the name Harry Potter. Knowing he has something to do with it, Voldemort kidnaps him, but it turns out Harry has lost something too.

The Dalmatian Captivation by @Laserswordtraining Words: 7,112 Tags: misc characters that have been made to play animals that assist :), Alternate Universe - 101 Dalmatians Fusion, woah thats a tag already??, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Fluff, dognapping, no puppies were harmed in the making of this fic, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, as in he's the fashionista Cruella De Vil, Musician Ron Weasley, rescue dog harry potter, 99 puppies and a bitch ain't one, If they're not a literal dog they are still wizards, no animagi here Summary: Dalmatian Harry and his owner/best mate Ron Weasley live a simple life, but Harry's got a plan for more when he sees another Dalmatian out the window with a lady who looks like Ron would agree she'd be worth leaving the flat for. But when Harry has a litter of puppies and Hermione's old boss gets wind of it, his beloved Tom bares his teeth knowing they need to be careful of him. This follows the plot of the original 1961 animated film, and includes a happy collection of wizarding characters as animals of all sorts that help Tom and Harry get all 99 puppies back to central London.

Art:

Death leaves him with you, master by @00queasy00 Words: 226 The soul of Lord Voldemort has been giving Death a hard time. It is time to look for another to watch over the relentless soul in its stead.

Restraint Not Included by @laserswordtraining Words: 37 Its Voldemort/Tom. In Android form. His coding is ""incorrect"" and they are trying to fix him or else they would be wasting millions of dollars. Its torture for Tom/Voldemort but to the humans its just noise (bc he is tech). Harry takes it home and keeps it/saves it because he is too empathetic. They were totally trying to fix him because he is a psychopath that is now obsessed with Harry.

Rated Teen

Kidnapping is a State of Mind by @apocalypsewallflower(dystopianRebel) Words: 1,586 Tags:Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mixed Eras, Alternate Universe – Tom Riddle in Golden Trio Era, Tom Riddle in Golden Trio Era, Mentioned Ominis Gaunt, Mentioned Remus Lupin, Sirius Black Raises Harry Potter, Unclarified Year, Unclarified Quidditch World Cup, Wool’s Orphanage, Kidnapping, joke, Kinda, They would’ve still done it though, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Found Family Summary: Harry Potter won’t let his best friend continue being alone any longer, no matter how many blood-related family members turn him away.

Yoink by @liquidluckandstuff Words: 2,763 Summary: Voldemort flying around the city because why not, maybe he's trying to clear is head. Only to spot Harry Potter and immediately just yoinks him off the sidewalk

Let's Never Wake Up (Stay with Me) by @blackseatwenty (SquibNation10) Words: 10,255 Tags: Based on the movie Inception Inception, Movie Inspired, Dreams, Trapped in a Dream, Fanart, This story grew without my consent, Harry and Tom are both teenagers, Time Travel bit, Harry has to save the world using dreams, Dumbledore's idea not mine, The Ministry of Magic is Incompetent (Harry Potter), Tom is Kidnapped Summary: Voldemort declared war on the Ministry at the exact moment a young Tom Riddle was found and kept in the Ministry of Magic. Unsure what to do, they put him in a magically induced sleep. How do they change their present without disrupting their future? They send Harry Potter to convince Tom to change his past- using his dream.

Art:

Only Sweet, Sugary Death by @laserswordtraining Inspired by the movie Jawbreaker, fem!Tom kidnaps fem!Harry for her birthday but it goes wrong

Rated Mature

a pound of flesh by @ictyn (hpwrbowdm)) Words: 8,907 Chapter 1/? Tags: Blood and Gore (It's bad), Major Character Injury, Injury Recovery, Necromancy, Slow Burn, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Body Horror, Alternate Universe - Goblet of Fire, Under the Influence of Horcruxes, Rituals, Chronic Pain, Captivity, burn injury, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Master of Death Harry Potter, Snake-Like Voldemort (Harry Potter), grave robbing, Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Grief/Mourning, Medical Experimentation, Keeping The Chosen One in a Jar in your Office, Bottom Storage, Whump, Minor Character Death Summary: One mistake causes irreparable damage. Harry Potter, Fourth Triwizard Champion, falls in the first task. He is injured past the point of survivability but for some reason he simply cannot die. Harry is taken to St. Mungo's where he's subjected to painful and humiliating experimental healing techniques. Robbed of his voice, he wishes for nothing but to be put out of his misery. Meanwhile, despite the sorry state of his fated enemy, Lord Voldemort wants Harry Potter for his resurrection ritual. Whatever power tethers the boy to life-Voldemort must possess it. Harry, helpless and trapped in his body, is entirely at the mercy of his nemesis. And Lord Voldemort, who never backs down from a challenge, becomes obsessed with solving the problem of Harry Potter once and for all. He will do the impossible-not destroy the boy, no, but remake him.

Rated Explicit (read those tags folks)

Catch Me (I know you can) by @blackseatwenty (SquibNation10) Words: 2,837 Tags: Kidnapping, Chasing, role play kink, Explicit Sex, Porn with Feelings, Spanking, Rope Bondage Summary: If Voldemort is after you, what can you do but run?

Fate's Coffin by @noxxytocin Words: 4,538 Chapters: 1/3 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, 10 years after the battle of hogwarts, Mystery, Not a Time Travel AU, Tension, Abduction, Fluff, Comfort, there's some hetero mention in the beginning but I promise this is a queer fic, Harry and Tom are gay, Harry is dramatic and whiny, Tom could care less, Sexuality Conflict, Hostage Situation, Power Dynamics, Manipulation, Magical Asphyxiation, there's porn eventually I promise, Feel the Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers Summary: Harry Potter’s life is finally smooth sailing—he’s dating Ginny, the wizarding world is rebuilding, and he’s a top Auror. But at the 10th-anniversary celebration, just as he’s about to give a heartfelt speech, the unexpected happens: Harry is snatched away and later finds himself in a place as grim as its master. Trapped and facing a fate more dreadful than he could imagine, Harry’s life is about to be turned entirely on its head.

Thin Skin by @iseliljathedreamer (Iselilja) Words: 6,428 Chapters: 2/5 Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Snake-Like Voldemort (Harry Potter), Body Horror, Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Secret Relationship, Post-Canon, Foot Fetish, not super weird I promise, This fic is mostly porn ngl porn and pain, Chronic Pain, Domestic, Porn With Plot Summary: Prompt: Harry wins AU and keeps Voldemort locked and hidden in his house in exchange for not destroying the horcrux in his scar. The war ended. Not with death and destruction. Not with treaties and parlays. Not with exhaustion or ceasefires. It ended with an agreement in the quiet darkness of the Chamber of Secrets, deep in the earth below the raging battle. A conditional surrender where the most powerful wizard alive signed his freedom away for 100 years to a boy of 17 armed with a basilisk tooth and a putrid, poisoned pool, in exchange for secrecy and eternal life. But that was years ago now. Harry thought he'd never get used to having Voldemort living in his house, but he did. Time is a miracle-worker beyond all human comprehension, and yet, there are wounds it is yet to heal. Quite literally.

And all the devils are here by @i-dream-of-libraries (evaleon70) Words: 6,550 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Forced Orgasm, Fucking Machines, Overstimulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Captive Voldemort, Voldemort in bondage, Non-Consensual Bondage, Mercy for One's Enemy, Horcrux Bond, ScarCrux | The Piece of Voldemort's Soul in Harry Potter's Scar, Sex Toys, Frottage, Really just an excuse to hook Voldemort up to a penis milking device, Felix Felicis | Liquid Luck Potion (Harry Potter), Snake-Like Voldemort (Harry Potter) Summary: Voldemort has finally pushed his Death Eaters too far with his bloodlust, and they find an unconventional way to fight against him. Harry witnesses what they're doing to the Dark Lord through the horcrux bond and should really just leave his old enemy to his fate… he doesn't.

Reset my patient violence (you know my desire) by @i-dream-of-libraries (evaleon70) Words: 13,326 Tags: Alternate Universe - Grishaverse Fusion, Porn With Plot, Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dubious Consent, Dark Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Dream Sex, Shadows used as tentacles, Captive Harry, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Come as Lube, First Time, Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Bondage, Biting, Somnophilia, Bottom Harry, Top Tom Riddle Summary: Prompt fill for Captivous fest: Grishaverse AU where Tom is The Darkling and Harry is The Sun Summoner. The Darkling has waited hundreds of years for his Sun Summoner, and he won't let him escape now. or How Tom will have Harry in any universe, to the possible ruin of all.

[pointed-beetle]

Three's a Crowd (Stu Macher x Murderer!Male Reader x Billy Loomis) Part 2!!!

Part One

Word Count: 1961

T/W, C/W: Very very brief mentioning of readers drugging in the previous part, Stu being awfully promiscuous for one of my fics on this page

Summary: After waking up many hours later and finding yourself in a strangely familiar house you come to the conclusion that maybe you and Stu aren't that different after all. Announcement: I have a secondary blog with non x reader fics and my own personal works! Who knows maybe I'll post on it more often >:)c? Maybe there's something already there for you.

Your head was pounding when you came to, quickly finding that opening your eyes was a mistake as your vision spun. Slowly inhaling you try to gain a sense of your surroundings, keeping your eyes clenched closed. Gradually the feeling of the couch underneath becomes a more solid concept, the texture of the fibres, the throw pillow uncomfortably shoved under your head.

You were on a couch.

You were… On a couch?

You squint into the pale light, relieved that your vision had finally found its purchase as you can get a good look at where you were.

The inside was quaint, the room you found yourself in was decorated in a simple patterned wallpaper, a matching loveseat sat across from a coffee table oddly decorated with mallards, your brows furrowing. Timidly you sit up, planting your hands into the cushions as you sway, clearly still being affected by your spiked beverage.

A plate clicks slowly against a counter behind you, and you can’t gain the courage to turn around, staring out the window. You weren’t in any position to fight, especially if it was one of the two men that took you from the party.

“Oh you weren’t supposed to wake up yet.” Stu’s laugh is nervous as he glances around the room, as if you were two estranged friends that hadn’t seen each other in awhile.

You turn on the couch, looking at the rest of the room before finally landing on Stu, rage slowly growing in you as you start to stand, only momentarily needing support from the couch to stand on your own. Your knuckles were white as you clench your fists, glaring at Stu. You had backed yourself up partially, calves meeting the edge of the short table in front of the couch.

“Well you’re recovering well! Has this happened before?” His smile is bright and mocking, he picks a grape up from the plate he set down, placing it in his mouth as he doesn’t look away from you.

“Where’s the other one?” You snap, eyes quickly darting around the room, only leaving Stu’s form for a few seconds at a time.

“His name is Billy, you dumb creature, and Billy is out with his lovely girlfriend Sidney getting you some medicine to work through your hangover when you wake up because you passed out at the party.” His eye brows raise, a smaller yet still as smug smile sits on his face as he continues to eat.

“I know what his fucking name is.” You hiss, hands searching your person as you nervously slide them into your pockets, a sinking feeling in your stomach as the familiar wooden handle doesn’t meet with your fingertips.

Empty.

Stu chuckles as he watches your hands, cocking his head to the side as he watches a fraction of panic flash onto your face. You calm down much faster upon the realisation you had nothing to fight with, strength or weapons. You were completely under their thumb and all you could do was squirm.

“How long has it been?” Your tone is low, as if Stu was a wild animal you were trying to hush.

He hums in contemplation as he rocks on his heels, looking out the windows to his right as he thinks.

“Five hours?”

Slowly you nod, reaching up to anxiously run your fingers through your hair, scrubbing at your scalp as you try to wrack your thoughts but nothing was coming easy, thoughts jumbled together or less important ones became too loud to focus on what to do next. What were you going to do? Were they holding you here, and were you allowed to just leave? Where was your knife?

You breathe, calming your uncharacteristically shocked nervous system to rest as you peel your eyes away from Stu long enough to get a better look at what living you were in, maybe you had been in this house before during a party. Glancing down the hall, and staring at a particular closet door it hits you where you are, a sudden rush of adrenaline washing over you. You had been inside the home before, just not with permission.

“I assume this is… Sideny’s home? Doesn’t she still live with her father?” Your eyes snap back to Stu, sharply inhaling at how he made his way to the back of the couch you were laying on, the plate of grapes discarded on the counter top.

“Her father is on a trip right now, awfully convenient wouldn’t you say? Makes it easier to walk around and explore without having to avoid someone else huh?” His eyes shine with a knowing look that only fills you with more anger. He had no idea what he was talking about, sporting a cadence like he was talking to someone he knew, about something he knew.

Your silence tells Stu he overstepped, and he slinks back to his plate of grapes, leaning his hip into the counter as he sheepishly looks out the windows again, taking small bites out of a grape.

“We won’t hurt you. At least I won’t, Billy won’t make such a promise.” He’s quick to begin, his words jumbling together, “We know, it all makes sense now. Your bitchiness, why you were so quick to leave Tatum!” He’s excited, and he quickly starts to approach the back of the couch once more, gripping onto the frame tightly as he looks over your body.

“We became competition! You knew all this time because you were in the know, man! I couldn’t understand what your fucking deal was but when Billy opened that little blade of yours?” He chuckles, leaning forward and causing the couch to creak under his weight, “How did you know about us then? About Ghostface?”

You wet your lips, your eyes locked with Stu’s as he talks and asks questions and not giving you any time to answer. His excitement stirred something in the pits of your stomach, and your swallow went down a little easier than all the other times.

“The phone calls,” You’re timid to start, your stomach fluttering in excitement, “I only listened to one, but the way you talk is so unique.”

Stu lights up, climbing over the couch and fully passing the invisible threshold that you had set, his hands gripping onto your shoulders, his hands trembling with profound happiness. You explain everything, how you put things together, how easy it was to figure out because you knew exactly what to look for in them, and how avoiding them was your best bet in case your victims overlapped. It was easier to act like enemies than become quick suspects by hanging around them.

Stu cups your face in his hands, his callouses brushing against your skin and for a moment you felt like a rat under a snake's gaze. The look in his eyes was primal, it wasn’t anything that you had seen him sport before, you didn’t really know Stu but you knew for a fact this was a different side of him, something unhinged and ready to jump out at whatever he could.

He walks forward, giving you no choice but to fall back on the coffee table, knocking books off onto the floor as he hovers over you, leaning down so close that you are breathing the same air.

“Billy’s finally going to understand when he hears all of this, he just wouldn’t get it, what I saw in you was exactly what I wanted and now that it’s been confirmed!!”

This was it, the moment you realised you were being swallowed whole by the snake, having no time to run and only given a moment to squirm before you’re crushed to death.

This is what staring down the jaws of death felt like, what all your victims saw before you claimed their lives for your own. Your lip trembles and all you can do is timidly stare at Stu’s chest as he exposits, trapping you against the table as he excitedly tells you how long he was waiting for you, wanting and craving just to see you in a different light.

The spotlight he aimed at you was hot and overwhelming, you had never been the centre of attention, happily being a well known cold introvert that only went to parties if it was promised one of your friends would be there. This was different than what you were used to, none of your friends had this type of energy, you never even in passing met someone with this much intrigue in you.

You revelled in it, allowed Stu to shower you in his affectionate words, a warmth blossoming throughout your body as he became more intimate, pushing further and further with each nod you provided him.

This is exactly what you wanted, what you were looking for in the things that you did, it was the same feeling you got when your crimes were on the news and the reporters talking about you like some kind of sick bedtime story. This excitement is what you craved.

Stu would be glad to share it with you.

Stu is quick to pull away from you and pull you up from the table when laughter echoes from the top of the stairs. He cleans up the books, and has you settle on the couch, making his way back to the counter, still glowing with unsatiated need as he waves at the two people that enter the room.

Billy is surprised to see you sitting on the couch, looking so calm, and greeting Sidney with a warmth he didn’t expect as she approached you with medicine and a drink. He looks over at Stu, who just gives him his usual large smile, though something lingered, and he knew exactly what it was about, and suddenly he was irritated that Sidney was here, that he hadn’t been here to see the moment that you cracked.

He stands next to Stu, partaking in his plate of grapes as they watch you talk with Sidney.

“They said you passed out at the party, with the way Tatum talked about you it was surprising to hear. Someone so responsible getting black out drunk like that.”

You smile at her, fingers brushing against hers as you take everything from her, a soft thanks escaping her as you let her finish talking about how surprised she was to hear about the news of you. She almost seemed worried, Tatum must’ve talked about you far more than you thought, and in a better light than you assumed she was capable of.

“Unfortunately, one of my more rowdy friends had managed to talk me into it, and I allowed myself to get carried away, thankfully Stu and Billy had been there to help me, otherwise I would’ve sat in my car and probably fell asleep.”

She casts an affectionate smile towards her boyfriend, surprised by his act of kindness though not scolding him for acting uncharacteristically.

Stu nudges Billy, chuckling as Sidney continues to talk with you, asking you how you enjoyed the party and who was there. “They were pissed when they woke up… I thought if I got too close they’d clock me even while still woozy.”

Billy laughs softly, glancing out the window as the sun starts shining through the windows and lighting up the living room, a glint of something catching your eye as you glance away from Sidney, spotting your knife to the side of her TV set.

It was in arms reach this whole time and you hadn’t allowed yourself to look away from Stu the whole time.

How well would this have gone if you had noticed?

Who’s blood would be staining the hardwood floor just under their feet?

[gatutor]

Ruth Roman-Jack Cassidy "Look in any window" 1961, de William Alland.

[fields-of-grimes]

Sleepover Secrets | Carl Grimes

Carl Grimes x Fem!Reader

CW: scary stories,mentions of su!c!de

This is a long one so

——————————————————

Y/N,Carl,Ron,and Enid were having a sleepover, they were all just talking about random things when Enid had an idea.

“Guys! We should play truth or dare!” Enid said squealing. You all agreed and sat in a circle.

“Okay um Carl truth or dare?” Enid asked looking at him. “Um dare.” Carl said after a few minutes of thinking, Enid smirked as she thought of a dare.

“Okay i dare you to go scare Tara on watch.” Enid said, Carl sighed and got up leaving the room. The rest of you ran to the window and watched, you all laughed as you saw Tara nearly sucker punch Carl.

Once Carl returned he sat back down and looked at Ron. “Ron truth or dare?” He asked the other boy. “Truth.” Ron said, giving Enid a stink eye as she giggled and silently called him a wuss.

“Is it true that you suck at pool?” Carl asked smirking since he already knew the answer, Ron rolled his eyes. “Fuck off Grimes.” He said making everyone laugh. “Alright, alright Y/N truth or dare?” Ron asked you smirking. You sighed thinking, “um truth.” You said looking at Ron.

Ron thought for a minute before speaking. “Is it true that you have a crush on Carl?” He asked you making you look over at Carl, Carl just looked at you intently. You and Carl had been dating in secret for a while, no one knew not even the rest of your group. “Well are you going to answer?” Ron asked you chuckling. You blushed slightly, “Yeah it’s true.” Carl’s eyes widened as he choked on his water, you all looked at him, he quickly winked at you. “You got a crush on me wow um that’s..that’s news to me. I uh wow this is awkward.” He said making you look away, you knew he only said that so Ron and Enid wouldn’t be suspicious but it still hurt to hear him say it.

Enid noticed you getting upset, “How about we tell scary stories instead?” She said  getting up to turn the lights off, she sat back down sending a smile your way, Ron smirked. “Good idea, i’ll go first, ”Talmadge Brothers North was erected in the summer of 1961 when the brothers decided there was an even larger demand for their services. Since the original Talmadge Brothers Funeral Home required both brothers to remain on site for a majority of the day, they were forced to hire a young man by the name of Neville Talmadge, their nephew. For the first two years of operation Neville excelled in his new position as manager of Talmadge Brothers North, impressing not only his customers, but also his uncles. In December of 1963, Neville was introduced to a young lady by the name of Constance Lee. Constance was the daughter of the local fire chief Robert Lee, and had been desired by all the men in Butts County for years. Constance was always timid about the idea of being in a relationship, but when she met Neville she knew that she had met a perfect match. After almost three years of dating, Neville and Constance decided it was time to make their relationship official, in both the eyes of the Lord, as well as the State of Georgia. The ceremony would be small - a service in the county courthouse - and then off on their honeymoon. However, Neville and Constance would never make it to their destination. Minutes before they were to leave for their appointment at the courthouse, Neville received word of what had happened between his uncles in Ball Ground. Devastated by the news, Neville removed a gun from his top desk drawer, believing that there had to have been a third party that killed his uncle. Neville was going to get to the bottom of the situation, and make things right any way that he could. Before Neville was able to get out of his desk chair Constance excitedly ran into the room, questioning Neville about their honeymoon. Neville was in no mood for questions and tried to tell Constance that one of his uncles had just died, but she wouldn't listen. An argument broke out between the two, and ended when Neville pulled the trigger. Constance slumped against the desk, her eyes slowly closing as the life ran out of her body. When Neville had realized what he had done he screamed in horror, and turned the gun on himself. Local legend says that Constance haunts Talmadge Brothers North, cheated out of her life and wedding by a Talmadge. It is also said that Constance lives within the mirrors of Talmadge Brothers, beckoning all who enter to join her on the other side. Strange happenings have been witnessed around the building and grounds of Talmadge Brothers North.” Ron said smirking. “Well that was something, anyways my turn.” Enid said smirking.

“The first hotel to have more than thirteen floors had a huge Halloween party to celebrate its opening. Each floor was set up like a maze, decorated with cobwebs and other Halloween decorations. There were lots of people dressed up as ghosts and ghouls to frighten the party goers. An exciting prize was hidden on the top floor, and the first person to reach the prize would win it. Jack and Jill were two of the party goers. They worked their way easily through the mazes on the first few floors. As they headed up through the building, the hallways on each floor got darker and scarier.When they got to the twelfth floor, Jack and Jill heard a blood-curdling scream. As they made their way through the maze, they heard more screams and cries for help. Finally, in the lobby by the elevators, they saw blood dripping from the ceiling.The elevator dinged, and the doors slowly opened, which was strange because every other time they used the elevator, the doors had been quick and smooth. The light in the elevator was flickering as they stepped in and, as the doors began to close, the lights went out completely.And then, screams so loud the entire building heard them begin to ring out. At first, the party goers thought it was part of the scary Halloween theme. But then, the owners of the building turned on all the lights and asked everyone to return to the lobby.But when people tried to use the elevator, it never came. The bell would ding, but the doors wouldn’t open, and they were all forced to use the stairs. Down in the lobby, the building owners explained they had not played the sounds of the screams. And, as they did a check of everyone who had come back, they realized Jack and Jill had not returned.Just then, the doors to the elevator opened. It was empty except for Jack’s watch, one of Jill’s shoes, and a pool of blood. Jack and Jill were never seen again, and the building owners took away the button for the thirteenth floor, so nobody would disappear there again.” Enid laughed at Ron’s scared expression. “You scared Ron?” She asked in a teasing voice. He just rolled his eyes. “Y/N your turn.” Enid said giving you a thumbs up. You sighed and shifted your body so you would be more comfortable. “Okay well, two sisters were spending the summer at their grandparents’ house. When the sun was shining, they had plenty of fun, swimming in the lake out front, exploring the woods out back, and playing all sorts of games in the gardens.However, one week, toward the end of their stay, it did nothing but rain. The girls had played board games, read books, made things with their crafts supplies, and now they were bored.The grandparents’ house was large, and the girls thought it would be an excellent place for a game of hide-and-seek. The younger sister wanted to hide first. She ran off to find a hiding place while her sister covered her eyes and began to count to fifty.The older sister heard her sibling’s footsteps running up the stairs and along the hallway to the back of the house. After reaching fifty, she opened her eyes and went in search of her sister.The girl went into every room. She looked under the beds and in the closets. Behind the curtains and behind the doors, but her sister was nowhere to be found. finally, she reached the only room their grandparents had told them never to enter.She reached out and grasped the doorknob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open. Much to her surprise, the room was almost empty.The only item was an old, tall, carved wooden cupboard, covered in cobwebs. But the door was slightly open.The girl ran over, laughing, and swung the door open expecting to find her sister, but the cupboard was empty. She leaned in, and as she did, a cold, icy hand reached out from the back of the dark cupboard and grabbed her wrist. She let out a scream and tried to escape, but the hand started to pull her into the cupboard.The girl’s sister heard her screams and ran to find out what was happening. She entered the room and looked on in horror as her sister began to disappear into the cupboard. Luckily, the little sister was quick thinking she ran toward the cupboard and grabbed her sister’s legs. After a brief tug-of-war, she managed to pull her sister out of the cupboard, and the two girls ran from the room, slamming the door behind them.” You finished and looked around. “Alright  Carl your turn.” You said yawning.

 Carl had staring at you for a while, he knew his words hurt you, it killed him knowing he was the reason for your pain, hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do. “Carl bro hello?” Ron said again causing Carl to jump. “Yeah sorry okay so, a man was lying in bed one nigh, when he heard lots of sirens in the streets outside, there was a helicopter flying around,and the sounds of dogs barking and people shouting. He looked out his window and saw a bunch of police,so he turned on his TV to discover what was going on. “Serial Killer Escapes!” said the headlines. As he watched intently, the man discovered a crazed killer had broken loose and that he was believed to be in the neighborhood, but he wasn’t too worried. As the night went on,the noise stopped, and he went to bed. Then he was startled awake, he thought he had heard a noise, he listened carefully and was just about to fall back asleep when he heard it again. This time he was sure someone was trying to get in his front door. The man looked down the hallway, terrified, he didn’t know what to do.The only way out of his room, without going into the hallway, was through the window. He didn’t think he could climb out, but his mind was made up as he saw the door wobble in its frame as someone threw their entire weight against it.Without any thought, the man leapt out of his window and ran into his yard. He paused to look over his shoulder, just in time to see the light go on in his bedroom and a team of police officers pile in.The man was amazed and relieved at the same time. Until he felt a hand clamp tight over his mouth and the cold steel of a serial killer’s knife against his throat.” Carl said looking at everyone, you all had your mouths wide open. 

You weren't gonna lie, Carl’s story had scared you. Enid decided that you all should go to sleep, you all got settled in your spots, everyone fell asleep pretty quickly, except for you. You couldn't get Carl’s story out of your head.

You jumped as you felt someone touch you, your turned quickly but calmed down when you saw it was Carl. “Come here.” He said pulling you into his lap and holding you tightly. “I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you or scare you.” He said kissing your cheek, you leaned into his body. “You didn't upset me, but you definitely scared me.” You said looking at him, he just sighed. “I saw your face after you told them you liked me, it hurt you and i’m sorry.” He kissed you softly, you kissed him back wrapping your arms around his neck.

“HA I knew it!” Ron screamed turning on the lights. “We had suspicions of you two dating, Enid just thought telling stories would get you guys to admit, and she was right!” You and Carl just rolled your eyes at him, you looked at Enid and stuck your tongue out at her making her laugh. “Alright whatever let’s all actually go to sleep now.” Carl said laying down, pulling you down with him, Ron turned the light off again and laid back down falling asleep.

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

This took so long lol

[cloudtastrophie]

A little headcannon tidbit based off of chapter 2 of @canarydarity 's ranchers baseball au <3

-----

St. Louis felt infinitely like home. Or, as close to home as Jimmy could get. Coming into the city from the Illinois side of the river made him sick to smell the air of his childhood backyard. To taste the dirt in his mouth as he, once again, lost against Grian at the diamonds. St. Louis was 10 times smaller than grand old New York, New York, but it was 10 times more welcoming. The drivers were calmer, the streets less full, the culture more laid back. It was a lazy city, sticky and slow like molasses in the early summer midwestern heat. 

As the team bus rattled its way across the Eads Bridge, Jimmy felt Joel smack his arm, breaking his gaze away from the lazy flow of the Mississippi. “What in the bloody hell are they building?” Joel muttered, half standing to see over Tango’s shoulders across the isle. Tango looked as if he was about to burst out of the window, he was pressed so hard to the glass. He swiveled his head to look at Jimmy and Joel. 

“You two haven’t heard? It’s been in every paper for weeks!” He was practically vibrating with excitement. 

Jimmy shook his head and stood up taller to see what the fuss was about. By then, the whole team was ‘ooh and ahhing’ at the absolutely massive structure being built, right on the banks of the river. 

“It’s going to be called the Gateway Arch. It’s probably going to be the biggest feat of engineering since the Empire State. Probably better than the Needle out in Seattle is going to be.” Jimmy raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips. Since when did Tango have a special interest in engineering?

“I did a few months in an engineering class. Got me hooked, but numbers are easier to understand.” Tango explained, as if he had read Jimmy’s mind. Then he turned back around and continued to peer at the stories-tall cranes slowly moving into place, and the two wide, square beginnings of what would apparently become a feat of engineering. Jimmy didn’t really see the draw, but he leaned across Joel and the isle to Tango anyways.

“We should come back to see it once it’s finished.” Jimmy said, watching the construction site fade behind them. The Cardnial’s stadium appeared behind the looming Old Courthouse. 

“I agree!” Tango replied, beaming. Jimmy didn’t care if he was 100 by the time the Arch was finished. He’d come back and see it with Tango when it was done.

------

hi worm i know you're reading this,,,ok I haven't had the energy (or time) to do any art for the baseball au but the brainrot has been stuck with me for DAYS. so I decided to write a little tidbit of how I imagined the ride into St. Louis for that game against the Cardnials. I have a lot of love for the city I grew up around so I really wanted to do something for it for you :) And if you're interested, here's some of the history I incorparated to make it feel more historically accurate! (i'm a cloested history buff, can you tell)

the st louis gateway arch began construction in 1963 technically, but I'm like 90% sure that there was soo much prep work done on the site before the actual construction, as there is a basement underneath it, and a huge walkway/viewing platform area, as well as the whole thing with the levee right on the Mississippi. I wanted to sort of figure out what that would look like in 1961 when the plans were being laid out. Also, the Arch is a certified national park, it's professional name being "St. Louis Gateway Arch National Park"

The Old Courthouse. UGH its one of my favorite buildings I've ever seen actually. Its so beautiful, and you can, from the road I'm writing them on, see Busch staduim looming behind it. The Courthouse also actually held the first two trials of the Dred Scott case, if you're into that kind of stuff.

The Eads Bridge. Also one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. It is the oldest bridge on the Mississippi and was constructed under the care of Andrew Carnagie. That bad boy is made out of actual authentic Carnagie steel. Sooo history rich. Pretty sure they actually held a parade with elephants once it was done. so that's cool

Oh, and Busch stadium. It wasn't called that way back when! And it looked much, much different than it does now. I'm honestly not sure what it was called in the 60's, but I'm sure most people called it Cardnial's stadium. It was a beautiful and massive stadium back then, and it still is now.

the seattle neetle was being constructed around the same time as the arch as well, which is why i had Tango say something about it LOL

And for funsies, here's a scorecard that I'm sure Tango would've recieved in 1961 from the stadium.

hope you enjoyed my little rant!! And if you made it to the bottom of this and you're not worm, I hope you enjoyed learning a little about st. louis today. :)

[chantalstacys]

I love your tumblr 🩷 can you make a list of old movies with the best fashion? Thank you 🫶🏻

hi there! here's what i came up with ☺️ the first two have literal fashion shows in them

♡ the women (1939)

♡ how to marry a millionaire (1953)

♡ fashions of 1934 (1934 lol)

♡ roberta (1935) really any ginger rogers movie from the 30s (swing time also has some of my favorite looks), but this one takes place in an actual dress shop

♡ ziegfeld girl (1941)

♡ funny face (1957)

♡ sabrina (1954)

♡ breakfast at tiffany's (1961) tbh not my favorite but even i cannot deny how much i want to dress like holly golightly every day of my life

♡ if a man answers (1962)

♡ rear window (1954)

♡ what a way to go! (1964)

♡ gentlemen prefer blondes (1953)

♡ pandora's box (1929)

♡ one way passage (1932) kay francis, another style superstar

♡ dinner at eight (1933) jean harlow is everything in this movie

♡ zouzou (1934)

♡ gilda (1946)

♡ camille (1936)

♡ the merry widow (1934)

♡ marie antoinette (1938)

♡ scaramouche (1952)

♡ gigi (1958)

another fun thing to do is to look through lists of movies with your favorite costume designers! my personal favorite is adrian, and i also love edith head, orry-kelly and travilla

[sylviaplathink]

via mstjohn813 on instagram

...

"I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes"

–Sylvia Plath, from the poem "Tulips", written 18 March 1961, in Ariel, 1965

...

TULIPS The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here. Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands. I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions. I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses And my history to the anaesthetist and my body to surgeons. They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut. Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in. The nurses pass and pass, they are no trouble, They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps, Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another, So it is impossible to tell how many there are. My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently. They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep. Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage —- My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox, My husband and child smiling out of the family photo; Their smiles catch onto my skin, little smiling hooks. I have let things slip, a thirty-year-old cargo boat Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address. They have swabbed me clear of my loving associations. Scared and bare on the green plastic-pillowed trolley I watched my teaset, my bureaus of linen, my books Sink out of sight, and the water went over my head. I am a nun now, I have never been so pure. I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free —- The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet. The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me. Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby. Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds. They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down, Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their colour, A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck. Nobody watched me before, now I am watched. The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins, And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips, And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself. The vivid tulips eat my oxygen. Before they came the air was calm enough, Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss. Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise. Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river Snags and eddies round a sunken rust-red engine. They concentrate my attention, that was happy Playing and resting without committing itself. The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves. The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals; They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat, And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me. The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea, And comes from a country far away as health.

[astonishinglegends]

Ep 287: The Abduction of Betty and Barney Hill Part 1

"Oh my God. They’re not what I expected. They don’t look like I expected them to look. They look like people, but they’re sort of grotesque."  -- Betty Hill, recounting a nightmare she had in a note to Dr. Benjamin Simon; late spring 1964 from Stanton Friedman and Kathleen Marden’s book, Captured! The Betty and Barney Hill UFO Experience

Description:

On the night of September 19, 1961, around 10:30 p.m., Betty and Barney Hill drove back to their home in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, after a vacation in Niagara Falls and Montreal. As they passed the town of Lancaster along U.S. Route 3, Betty saw a bright light in the sky just below the Moon that she initially thought was a falling star, except this light was moving upward and erratically, growing larger and more brilliant. The Hills pulled over for a closer look through binoculars. Betty said she saw an oddly shaped craft with multicolored lights that flashed as it traveled across the face of the Moon. Barney saw what he first reasoned was a commercial jetliner, but when the craft silently descended rapidly in their direction without turning, he realized it was not a plane. They resumed driving as the object continued its quick descent toward their car until it hovered above the highway about 80 to 100 feet off the ground, causing Barney to stop in the middle of the road. Using the binoculars again, Barney could now see what he described as eight to eleven humanoid beings staring at him through one of the craft's windows. Then they all turned away from the window except for one that continued to glare and seemingly sent a telepathic message to Barney, commanding him to "stay where you are and keep looking." After making further observations about the craft and its occupants, whom Barney described as "somehow not human," the only thing the Hills could recall next from that moment was hearing a buzzing sound, then continuing on their drive. The Hills arrived home in the early morning the following day, and somehow, the trip took about two hours longer than it should have. Initially feeling at ease upon arrival, Betty and Barney would soon be troubled by puzzling evidence and unexplainable feelings and urges. Their watches were permanently stopped. Betty's dress was ripped around the zipper and lining and dusted with traces of a pinkish powder. The leather strap for the binoculars was torn, and the tops of the toes of Barney's shoes were scuffed as if he was dragged. He also developed inexplicable growths. They felt compelled to take long showers to remove any contamination without fully knowing what had happened to them. They noticed concentric circular marks on the trunk of their car that had strange magnetic properties. All of these baffling clues were traces of the extraordinarily terrifying and traumatic experience they endured that night, which scarred them for years, pieced together from their conscious memories, hypnotic regression sessions, and Betty's vividly recurring dreams. Taken all together, the story of Betty and Barney Hill became one of the most classic and seminal in ufology and is considered the first widely publicized case of alien abduction in the United States.

Reference Links:

Barney and Betty Hill incident on Wikipedia

Kathleen Marden, Betty Hill’s niece, from her website: www.kathleen-marden.com

The Betty and Barney Hill New Hampshire historical roadside marker

The Hill case from the Mad Scientist Podcast

Niagara Falls

Once again, the motion picture Rashomon

Project Blue Book

Walter N. Webb, from nicap.org

Donald Keyhoe

Location: The Betty and Barney Hill historical roadside marker in New Hampshire

Related Books:

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CREDITS:

Episode 287: The Abduction of Betty and Barney Hill Part 1. Produced by Scott Philbrook & Forrest Burgess. Audio Editing by Sarah Vorhees Wendel of VW Sound. Music and Sound Design by Allen Carrescia. Tess Pfeifle, Producer and Lead Researcher. Ed Voccola, Technical Producer. Research Support from The Astonishing Research Corps, or "A.R.C." for short. Copyright 2024 Astonishing Legends Productions, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

[trainsinanime]

Cars and Trains in Spy x Family Ep. 1

Spy x Family is an excellent anime that is officially set in a completely fictional country in a completely fictional world, far outside of any of our actual histories and timelines. Except not really; it’s actually set in east Berlin of the late 1960s. They don’t call it that (instead calling it “Berlint”, of all things), but the amount of detail they put into portraying the setting and the time period is truly remarkable, considering that they didn’t have to at all. Let’s look.

The first car we see in the first few seconds already tells us that this show is going to be a delight if you’re into that sort of thing (it’s also a delight if you don’t care much). An important diplomat gets murdered in his car. And the car is this:

Americans might think that it’s a 1956 Packard Patrician, but it’s not, as the slightly different grill shows. It’s a ZIL 111, the soviet copy of that car. Here’s a real one:

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, by Max schwalbe, published under CC-BY-SA 3.0 license

This was a classic car for important people all over the east bloc, like state ministers and so on. It’s a beautiful rendition and it fits perfectly in this role.

Ignoring some background cars that we’ll get to soon enough, the next car is the coupé Agent Twilight drives away from the fake information trade set up:

That is a Wartburg 311/3, two-dour coupé version of the original Wartburg 311.

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, taken by Torsten Maue, published under CC-BY 2.0 license

I’ve been told that Wartburg sounds weird in english, but in case you’re wondering, it’s the name of the castle near Eisenach (where this car was built), most famous for being the place where Martin Luther was imprisoned for a while and translated parts of the bible. The Wartburg 311/3 was not a mass product, and the whole Wartburg 311 line was soon supplanted by a more famous boxy version, but this is still a classic example of east german car construction.

Then Twilight has to leave for Berlint on a train, and the engine is, of all things, this:

It’s even more clear in the manga:

This locomotive is an east german class 99.77-79 steam locomotive, built from 1952 to 1956. Here are two of them together in Cranzahl:

Picture by me, feel free to use under CC-BY-SA 3.0

These locomotives fit into the time frame and into east Germany as a setting, but they wouldn’t be hauling a train to Berlin. They were built for the 750 mm narrow gauge branch lines of Saxony, and can only run on these narrow tracks. They’re actually still in use today, now as tourist railroads, operated by a company called SDG. Check them out if you’re in the area, these lines are fun.

The passenger coach that Twilight is sitting in does not correspond to anything I know, so the next recognisable thing is the tram that Twilight and Anya use. 

This is a tram type “Gothawagen” T4-62. These were used in Berlin and not really much outside of it, and were built from 1961 to 1964 (with some prototypes a few years earlier). Newer types replaced them relatively quickly, but the last ones actually ran until 1996. Here’s a picture of one of them on the same exact line 86:

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, taken by Felix O, published under CC-BY 2.0

If you want, you can point out details that are different, e.g. windows, pantograph or the missing V shape, but the overall impression is very clear. Whoever designed this knew what they were doing.

As the episode concludes, we see a beautiful picture of east german road traffic, featuring two of these trams and in front a Wartburg 353, which I’ll talk about when discussing later episodes:

Beautiful. Yes, the show is made for people who like found family and silliness, and it’s lovely in that regard. But it’s also made for history nerds who get excited about old trams and cars, and in that regards it’s absolutely perfect as well.

Here’s the post for episode 2

[superfan44]

The 100 Favorite Movies Challege

As a huge movie buff, I thought I'd try something fun on here. I have decided to launch a new internet challenge: "The 100 Favorite Movies Challenge". The rules are pretty simple and straight forward. You create a list of 100 of your personal favorite movies in alphabetical order, post the list on your home page, then nominate other people/users of your choosing to do the challenge.

There is no limit to what movies can be included on your list. Films within any medium (live action or animated), genre, and decade are more than welcome. Whether it's longtime favorites you were introduced to when you were younger, favorites that you've picked up over the years, or recent discoveries or releases that quickly became your favorites, anything and everything is on the table here.

I'll start off by sharing my list. To be clear, I have way more than 100 favorite movies, but to have the number be anything past that may be a bit much for some people. Please don't judge me if it seems like there might be a few noteworthy titles missing on here. I mainly put this list together just for fun. Alright, here we go!

9 (2009)

Airplane! (1980)

American Graffiti (1973)

Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)

The Avengers (2012)

Avengers: Endgame (2019)

Baby Driver (2017)

Batman Begins (2005)

Beetlejuice (1988)

Beverly Hills Cop (1984)

Big Hero 6 (2014)

Black Dynamite (2009)

The Blues Brothers (1980)

Broadway Melody of 1940 (1940)

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)

Castle in the Sky (1986)

Chicago (2002)

Cowboy Bebop: The Movie (Knockin' on Heaven's Door) (2001)

Deadpool (2016)

Death Proof (2007)

Desperado (1994)

Die Hard (1988)

Django Unchained (2012)

Double Indemnity (1944)

Dragon Inn (1967)

Fantasia 2000 (2000)

Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

Flash Gordon (1980)

Ghostbusters (1984)

The Godfather (1972)

Goodfellas (1990)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

History of the World, Part 1 (1980)

Hot Fuzz (2007)

How to Train Your Dragon 2 (2014)

The Incredibles (2004)

Independence Day (1996)

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

Inglourious Basterds (2009)

The Italian Job (2003)

Jaws (1975)

John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum (2019)

Jurassic Park (1993)

Logan (2017)

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

Lupin the 3rd: The Castle of Cagliostro (1980)

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Meatballs (1979)

Men in Black (1997)

Moana (2016)

Monsters vs. Aliens (2009)

Mr. and Mrs. Smith (2005)

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)

National Lampoon's Animal House (1978)

Network (1976)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

North by Northwest (1959)

Notorious (1946)

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019)

The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976)

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)

Porco Rosso (1992)

Princess Mononoke (1997)

Pulp Fiction (1994)

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Ready Player One (2018)

Rear Window (1954)

Rio Bravo (1959)

Robin Hood (1973)

The Rocketeer (1991)

Romeo and Juliet (1968)

Scream (1996)

Seven Samurai (1954)

Shaun of the Dead (2004)

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

Skyfall (2012)

Smokey and the Bandit (1977)

Spaceballs (1987)

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

Spirited Away (2001)

Star Wars: A New Hope (1977)

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi (1983)

The Suicide Squad (2021)

Surf's Up (2007)

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (2006)

The Thin Red Line (1998)

Tombstone (1993)

Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

Treasure Planet (2002)

Tremors (1990)

Tron: Legacy (2010)

Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story (2007)

The Wind Rises (2013)

Wonder Woman (2017)

Yojimbo (1961)

Young Frankenstein (1974)

Zombieland (2009)

Now, before I wrap things up, I would like to nominate @skygent, @is0gild , @firecraker-j, @mrcowboytoyou, and @piglets-not-so-big-adventure to do this challenge. Hopefully we can get the ball rolling so more and more people can join in. I look forward to seeing what kind of lists you guys will put together. Good luck!

[correlance]

On a classic music binge today with "Crazy" by Patsy Cline (1961).

"Willie [Nelson] wrote and was writing at that time, early '60s, very different songs from typical country music fare," says Paul Kingsbury, a music historian at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. "Instead of the usual three or four chords that were just major chords and sevenths, he was writing 'Crazy' with jazzy minor sevenths, major sevenths, minors. If you count the chords, there are about seven chords in 'Crazy,' very different for a country song at the time. And also Willie wrote some great lyrics. There are some wonderful alliteration in that, and Willie was going through his own romantic troubles with his wife, Martha, at the time, and you hear that in his songs like 'Crazy' and 'Hello Walls.'"

Owen Bradley had plans for "Crazy". He wanted to produce a new form of country music. He had a number of innovations in mind. He wanted a background vocal to add richness and sophistication, so he brought in The Jordanaires, who also recorded with Elvis Presley. He hired a young piano player, Floyd Cramer, who provided what the other musicians referred to as "tinkling".

He had a bass guitar, which added a kind of jazzy percussion to the mix. And he set aside a whole recording session just to work out the background sound, without Patsy's vocal. That was added a week later. That doesn't sound complex by today's standards, but at a time when four songs were produced in an average afternoon session, it was incredible attention to detail.

We asked three of the session musicians who were on the original recording of "Crazy" to talk to us about it. They are Bob Moore, the bass player, Gordon Stoker, the top voice of The Jordanaires, and guitarist Harold Bradley, whose brother Owen produced the record. As they always did, they worked that day from a demo, a fairly unadorned version of Willie Nelson singing "Crazy". Patsy Cline was there while the musicians and Owen Bradley tried out the song, and, Gordon Stoker told us, she was not impressed.

"I remember when Patsy heard the demo, she said, 'Look, Hoss, there ain't no way I could sing it like that guy's a-singing it,'" Stoker says. "I always got such a kick out of the way she talked. Phrasing. The phrasing of it. The way he cut his words off and choppy. She didn't want to do it like that. She wasn't going to do it that way."

[...] "When they got the hit 'I Fall to Pieces,' they didn't have any more arguments," Moore says. "But before that, there were some arguments and disagreements. And one of the things, I think, was something Owen did was to make her slow down the songs. And she didn't want to slow them down. And when you slow them down, she'd put a lot of feeling in there, but sometimes I thought she just had a lot of feeling 'cause she was kind of mad at Owen because, you know, she wasn't really thrilled over doing something that slow."

[...] "Patsy [Cline] had incredible vocal technique," says Kingsbury. "She was a very powerful singer and very versatile, capable of growling or purring, vaulting octaves with ease. But beyond just the raw technique, Patsy was able to give you a window into her soul. You feel that you're hearing exactly how Patsy feels, almost as if she were a neighbor coming over for a cup of coffee, and spilling her heart out to you."

[...] "I remember how much I loved it," Mr. Stoker says. "I know I remember that. I remember I was pleasantly surprised at how great she did it, with how much feeling she did it."

There is a music legend about "Crazy" that it was recorded in one take. That's true and not true. The studio musicians recorded their part after what they felt was a good amount of rehearsing and experimentation. But when Patsy Cline came in a week later to record the vocal of "Crazy", she did sing it only once. That one version is magical, and it's still selling records. Young singers are still measuring their own efforts against hers. Country singer Kathy Mattea treasures the idea that a woman like Patsy Cline could walk into a studio and sing "Crazy" one time from the heart.

"One of the downsides of technology is that it has allowed us not to believe in magic anymore," says Kathy Mattea. "And when music is at its best, it's like throwing up a butterfly net and catching a moment in time. And, you know, when you work it too hard and make it too perfect, you know, it's like you don't see the forest for the trees. Sometimes the flaws in something or the moments where it's not perfect are what makes it special."

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE HANGED MAN get what he deserves?” He is in THE DEATH EATERS & CLOSED to finding out. 

— he walks through the world as ;

name → regulus black pronouns → he/him identification → cis male year of birth → september 1960 - september 1961 face claim → ryan potter blood status → pure-blood  sexual orientation → pansexual occupation → associate barrister at the department of defence for the ministry of magic future information → traitor to the death eaters

— he is best described as ;

Complete CONTROL. The PERFECT son for any family member, or PERSPECTIVE HUSBAND for any young sorcerer. He is TAILORED. From his IMMACULATE dress robes to his PERSONALISED stationery he proudly carries under one arm. He is the scent of NEW PARCHMENT & the sign off on an OFFICIAL LETTER, written in PERFECT inked penmanship. COLD & IMPERSONALE but all the more MYSTERIOUS because of it.

— his story starts with ;

tw: death

Famous since the day he was born, Regulus has often felt the weight of the Black family legacy firmly on his shoulders. The youngest child of ORION BLACK [father] and WALBURGA BLACK [mother], Regulus was their golden son. The one who was seen and not heard. Who did as he was told and felt comfort in the routine that this expectation offered him. Whilst most children kick against authority in some way, Regulus found the act of disobeying one's parents to be an unnecessary one and regularly struggled to find any form of common ground with his elder brother SIRIUS BLACK [sibling] because of this. Curiously, Sirius had always been more interested in the world outside their own. It was a peculiar prospect to him that someone from such a high station as theirs would give a fraction of a thought to how muggles listened to music or what they learned at school. To Regulus, much like his family, muggles were a necessary nuisance, like the bitter cold in winter or the heavy rain just after a storm; something to take note of and not worth considering much thereafter. 

He would like to say that looking back through his life, that his earlier years at home were peaceful ones, and in many ways perhaps they were. At 12 Grimmauld Place, Regulus developed his love for reading and his love for various loose leaf teas and learned how easy it was to drown out the shouting matches between his mother and brother, from the window seat at the back corner of his father’s study. Hogwarts offered Regulus some true peace, the Slytherin dormitories were a happy place for him, chatting about school work by the fire with his cousin ANDROMEDA BLACK [cousin] and taking tea in their favourite green velvet chairs with his other cousin NARCISSA BLACK [cousin] as she mooned over the prospect of finding her perfect husband. Regulus proved popular amongst his fellow Slytherins, due to the notorious nature of his house, his connections and his skill as Seeker for their house team. His closest friends were from his own year, VICTOR YAXLEY [best friend/potential love interest] was his best friend and a fellow younger son from a notable family, they became close with their doormates AMIR GIBBON [best friend] and WYATT JUGSON [best friend] who rounded off their group of four.

Victor had always been his favourite. His intellectual equal and sparring partner, he knew what it was like to be related to a long and complicated family with elder siblings that were often hard to love. He was the first person that Regulus had ever loved outside of his family, though beyond a kind word and the softness of an occasional touch he had never acted on it out of fear of losing his best and oldest friend. The life of a teenager is complicated enough, figuring out oneself and one’s way in the world; though Regulus would argue in the pages of his diary that he had it harder than most. When he was fifteen his brother was officially ostracised from their family, leaving Regulus as the only son and their legacy. With Sirius finally out of the house, he felt the walls cave in. Their home was no longer theirs, it became a meeting spot for his father’s friends who whispered long into the evening with his eldest cousin BELLATRIX BLACK [cousin]. Open doors were now closed and from his bedroom on the first floor he could hear his name occasionally mentioned in raised voices by his cousin and the importance of his role in the coming months.

By sixteen Regulus had been given the tattoo on his arm that Bellatrix called “an honour”. The first at Hogwarts to receive such a gift, it was his task to spread the word of THE DARK LORD [leader] to his peers in whispers and recruit those who would strengthen his following. Regulus didn’t know much about The Dark Lord; other than his politics and that he had the backing of the figureheads of the most prominent families in society. The Dark Lord believed that those of pure heritage should be raised above the rest, and as someone who saw himself in government one day Regulus readily embraced him and was eager to carry out his message if meant keeping the good word of his family and securing a prominent seat at the table. Recruitment was easy, the sons and daughters of the noble families. His own friends and notable Twenty-Eight alumni PERSEPHONE WILKES [close friend] was a welcomed additions, which made his father and cousin incredibly pleased. Upon leaving school, Regulus secured a position as a researcher for his cousin Andromeda and her boss RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE [boss] working at The Department of Defence for The Ministry of Magic. 

His role was important for two reasons, his own personal interests in law and power- and Bellatrix had expressed great desire to know what was going on from inside the office and the allegiance of her sister and Rodolphus. It was The Dark Lord’s wish that all respected members of The Sacred Twenty-Eight pledge their loyalty to him and those with important standing in government or society were important to procure. In the beginning the work was easy, until Regulus began to have more knowledge on the cases than the people he was working with. The death of the Minister’s son, BOOKER BAGNOLD [person of interest] was the turning point in Regulus’ career, in the dark until the moment Bellatrix had been arrested for his murder, his death began a game of playing dumb to Andromeda and Rodolphus letting them know what information The Death Eaters wanted them to know and when it was best to reveal it. Years of hard work sabotage enough behind the scenes and helping them win cases as and when it was appropriate soon earned Regulus the title of associate barrister to Andromeda. Regulus was climbing the ranks at work and had established himself as a loyal servant to The Dark Lord. 

His family loved and respected them and besides Andromeda they had no secrets, which would all be soon rectified in time. In society he was a popular eligible bachelor, with only his mother standing in the way of him being snapped up by an eligible witch or wizard.  Although focused on his career, Regulus believed that he deserved the very best and ADRASTEIA GREENGRASS [acquaintance/potential love interest] had beauty and grace that rivalled even that of a veela. Regulus often finds himself enjoying polite conversation with her at functions, but not knowing where the political allegiances lie of herself and her brother ARISTAEUS GREENGRASS [acquaintance] he is careful to pursue her until he knows more. The biggest thorn in Regulus’ side however is neither his job nor the marriage market. Recently, Regulus has noticed his estranged brother watching him, after years of silence on both their parts. Curious by his sudden keenness, Regulus has been keeping an eye on Sirius whilst digging into his background, without mentioning it to his family. With whispers in the alleys that a rival group is forming to challenge The Dark Lord, Regulus has his suspicions that someone as stupid as Sirius would be likely to put themselves in danger and join a ridiculous organisation that might get him killed and their name disgraced. 

— he is a LEVEL 5 WIZARD & readied for war ;

[signalwatch]

Christmas Noir: Blast of Silence (1961)

Watched:  12/24/2022

Format:  TCM

Viewing:  First

Director (Writer, Starring):  Allen Baron

SPOILERS

There are a lot of movies about lone assassins being lonesome and weird and (spoilers) meeting their end.  It's frankly shocking how well this formula works.  Honestly, once you see "oh, this is about an assassin and it's not a major studio release?" you can swiftly follow that with  "Well, he'll die at the end."  Because there's something inevitable and inexorable about the very set-up.  If someone is selling you "noir" and it's about a hitman and the hitman isn't dead at the end, you can ring the shame bell.

So it becomes less about "what are they doing?" and more of "how are they doing it?" and - if I can ask - "what are they saying?"  

In this case, the "they" is Allen Baron (writer, director, star) and Merrill Brody (producer and cinematographer).  It's hard not to want to know what the story is behind the film, and I'll likely be picking this up on Criterion disc so I can find out.   The movie has the cinema verite styling of the mid-century indie feature, and is - honestly - gorgeous.  Shot around the holidays in New York, clearly without shutting anything down on the street, it has an almost documentary feel, punctuated by the oddball second-person narration, addressing the audience as if they're the protagonist of the film.  The narration is by the same guy who was the chauffer/ butler on Hart-to-Hart (it's this voice).  

I am not selling this at all, but trust me.  

It's a basic set-up.  Our assassin, Frank Bono, comes to town to take down a mid-tier mafioso that has cheesed-off the head-guy.  Before the mid-tier guy knows he's been found out, he's going to be liquidated.  And then we follow our assassin as he goes about his business, acquiring a gun*, staking out the target, etc...  And because this is a movie, he runs into people he knew in his youth who want to catch up.  

There's a girl and a chance for someone to maybe care about him for the first time, but that isn't right.**  He gets a glimpse of how *normal* people live, and maybe realizes this walled-off life that's spent looking for danger and threats is a dead end, so to speak.  Meanwhile, it turns out living among the rats turns his job upside down.

One of the things about movies is that *they often do not shoot on location*.  We may think we know New York, but we mostly know the New York sound stages on backlots in Southern California.  They're just not going to get every detail right, but when you see New York streets in movies like this, Sweet Smell of Success and especially the doc-like procedural of The Naked City or Killer's Kiss, it's like peering into a window into the past just watching the background.  These aren't background actors, and they aren't sets.  It's actors out on the street and cameras hidden here and there so the pedestrians don't notice (or do and don't care).  For similar, there's a few in San Francisco like The Sniper that reminds you:  ain't no city working in 3 dimensions like SF.  

Shot in New York I would guess in Christmas of 1960, it's a stark and alienating picture, and makes the absolute most out of the season in the darkest of ways.

I'm going to wrap it up here, because my plan before next Christmas is to get someone to podcast this with me.  It's a good one.

*one item that pops up *a lot* in these pre-1990's movies and books is that there was genuine concern about buying, obtaining and ditching guns that could be traced back to you in any way.  And ballistics is key to a lot of these movies.  Someone who knows guns will need to tell me about whether this was a trope and assumption before the proliferation of guns that made us all doubt this, or what happened here.  Because by the 1990's, literally no one cares about buyings guns of guns being traced back to them.  It's just not a plot point.

**there is an attempted rape in the film - or, a very large moment of confusion that would be considered rape.  Just a heads up.

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