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#music columnist
littlequeenies · 1 year
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Why do we love...
Cleo Odzer
First we heard about Cleo Odzer at Vintage Groupies Live Journal, we were into 60s models, 60s actresses, 70s groupies... and when we saw Cleo, we thought she was just in between!! she was a 60s goupie, we never heard about her but we saw in her a big smile and a face full of joy and happiness.
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[Photo of Cleo published in "Rock magazine", 30th August 1969]
At that post in Vintage Groupies Live Journal, there was a short biography about her, and when we read it, we thought that Cleo was very brave, independent and had a really interesting life: starting as a music columnist when she was 17, then working as a model, travelling by bus through Europe and ending living in Goa, India, being a drug seller and dealer, sent to prison in Goa, going back to New York, being clean, earning a Ph.D. in anthropology, going back to Goa...
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[Early 70s photo of Cleo modelling in Athens]
Reading that, and finding, as in many of our muses, there wasn't a proper site about her (well, it was her official site but the pics were very small and with a really bad quality), we decided to make a site for her on piczo... There, in that site, someone who met her, told us Cleo didn't die in Goa but she was murdered, as the entry was without name, we couldn't contact this person, but we decided to search for more information about her.
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[Photo of Cleo taken in Goa between 1974-1979 when she was living there]
We found a Yahoo group done by Steve, this group had two rules: share whatever you have related to Cleo, but the pics from that group should be kept in that group... Why? Well, some of them were posted by some of her classmates and friends who shared some tidbits, but we felt sorry as on the internet there were just five photos of her and in poor quality...
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[Cleo in Goa, screencap from documentary "The Last Hippie Standing"]
We saw there were some interviews, docs and clips about her at youtube so we decided to watch them to know more about her, and we decided to make some screencaps as well although the quality wasn't very good. We placed these screencaps at that group but the admin, this Steve told us he didn't want screencaps in his group, a las! as piczo didn't work anymore, we decided to place Cleo here just to make people aware of her existance, luckily we were sharing her and we saved all the photos from that yahoo group, as in time, that group disapeared as all yahoo groups did...
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[1995 photo of Cleo published in her book "Goa Freaks"]
Cleo was also a very smart girl who was ahead of her time with the new technologies, and it's a pitty all her pictures must be kept secret when she, at the videos and at her website, shared everything she wanted with an open heart and an open mind...
We really hope more pictures of her surface on the net and nobody is afraid of sharing them, it's a way to keep her alive...
Today, for what would have been her 73rd birthday, we wanted to share with all of you, dear followers, how we knew about Cleo and what made us love her.
Here we share:
OUR BIOGRAPHY OF HER, WITH LINKS TO AMAZING SITES
HER POSTS IN OUR BLOG
HAPPY HEAVENLY BIRTHDAY ADVENTUROUS HAPPY GIRL - GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN.
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thevaldomarx2269 · 1 year
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you're an expert in toxic relationships right? well my bf is very possessive and clingy, and also very rich, so i was kind of leading him on a little, but when he asked me to take a job as his bodyguard i turned him down cause i need my space, and we kind of maybe broke up but not really? except then i kind of ended up in a new relationship with someone who is also very possessive but in a totally different way, and my rich bf is mad that i won't just get rid of the new guy
aita?
First, it's a bit presumptuous of you to be commenting on my relationships, be they "toxic" or otherwise.
Secondly, this isn't "Dear Abby" - maybe you should be writing to the @thecontinentgazette if you want tabloid-level gossip and advice on your poor decision making skills.
Thirdly - where was I going with this? Oh, right. I fear for your safety, honestly. It might be time to disappear all together.
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jesuisgourde · 2 years
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My job is ridiculous because the range of music taste between the 6 employees there means that today, with 5 out of the 6 working we listened to: some sort of 50s gospel music, a Swedish crust band from the 80s, a Japanese grindcore band called Reek of the Unzen Gas Fumes, some local shoegaze/dreampop bands, Van Halen, Dust, 90s British girlband pop, The Waitresses, Psychic TV, and a hair metal band I can’t remember the name of.
Honestly I love it because I have discovered so many new artists that I really like just from my time at this job.
 I’ve also discovered so many more weird books to read and weird authors because that’s what small bookstores are for and my old bookstore job wasn’t as into gushing over the weird/stupid/fucked up shit that the people at my current bookstore job love.
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hotyanderedaddies · 5 months
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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 1:
Yandere Bully Forces Nerdy You to be His
[I hope you all enjoy my first semi-series on here!]
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[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Everyone at your high school knew that it was best to avoid Blake.
The upperclassman was a bully, plain and simple. He had a habit of beating people down if they dared get in his way, or even if they just looked at him in a manner he didn't appreciate.
You were on the complete opposite of the spectrum: a grade-A nerd. You were a goody two-shoes to boot, always volunteering after school and helping your fellow classmates study whenever they struggled with a subject. The captain of the Mathletes team and one of the star columnists in the school newspaper, you were the epitome of nerd.
However, even with your good nature, you avoided Blake as best as you could, fearful that you'd face his wrath and have him beat your face into a pulp. You'd heard the stories, and you'd seen enough teen movies to know that bullies and nerds do not mix, at all.
Unfortunately, one Friday morning, you walked out of the front door to your house to head towards the bus stop-- but you immediately froze when Blake was in your driveway, leaning casually against his car.
"Bl-Blake?" you coughed out in surprise. "What are you doing--"
Blake just grunted and opened up the passenger side door, gesturing at it. When you didn't make a move, his frown deepened on his face.
"Get in!" he barked, the forcefulness of his deep voice making you jump.
Afraid of making the bully even angrier, you scurried over towards the car and practically leapt inside. "Um, wh-where are we going?" you trembled as soon as Blake got in and started to drive off down the street.
Blake cocked his eyebrow at you in confusion. "School," he scoffed, as if it should've been obvious.
You wanted to ask why the school bully was driving you to school, but you were too concerned with how he placed his arm over your small shoulders in the tight confines of the car.
You were stunned silent at first, but then something popped into your head that you couldn't ignore.
"How did you know where I live?" you asked Blake, your voice small and barely audible over the loud music playing over the speakers.
"Huh?" Blake asked, turning the volume down a bit before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it."
"B-but..."
Blake turned the volume back up, effectively silencing you. You kept your lips pursed for the rest of the drive to school, anxiety seeping out of your every pore. When Blake finally parked in the parking lot, you thought about bolting as fast as you could, but your legs were like jelly.
You nearly crawled out of the car and cautiously began to walk towards the entrance when a tight visegrip swallowed your hand.
Blake interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a sneer when you attempted to pull away. He was much stronger than you, and when you kept trying, he leaned down closer to your ear.
Thanks to his proximity, a lot of the other students began to gawk at the two of you, their eyes widening and many of them murmuring to another as they saw the school bully holding hands with the nerdiest person in class.
"You're smart," Blake smirked as he whispered in your ear, "so I need you to comprehend this: You're mine."
A cold shiver traveled down your spine, and you tried to pull away once more; but Blake was much stronger than you, and he gave you a rough tug, making you topple into him.
"That's one," Blake sneered, even holding up one of his fingers to count. "When I get to three, I'll have to punish you. So make sure you behave and be my sweet little angel, got it?"
Swallowing hard, you nodded, fearful of what was in store for you.
To be continued...
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clipartdinosaur · 3 months
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Griddlehark Fics
I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!
(♥︎ = favorite!)
Short (<15k):
"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)
The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”
"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)
Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.
"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)
One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.
"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)
Oh my god they were roommates...
"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)
She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.
"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)
Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.
"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)
Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).
"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)
Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.
"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎
“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”
"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)
Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.
"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)
"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."
"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)
It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else.  “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand. 
"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)
In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.
"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)
"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."
"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]
It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.
"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)
In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).
"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎
“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”
"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.
"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)
"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?
"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)
Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.
"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎
God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.
"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)
The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.
"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)
Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.
"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)
Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.
"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)
Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.
"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)
Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?
"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎
“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”
"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)
The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?
"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎
Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]
"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)
Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.
"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎
Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]
"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)
Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.
"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)
"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]
"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)
Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]
"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)
What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.
"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎
Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.
"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)
Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.
"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)
You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.
"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)
Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.
"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)
Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.
Medium (15-30k)
"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)
"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.
"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎
When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.
"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎
Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.
"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)
Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.
"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]
After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.
"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎
“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]
"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎
Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.
"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)
[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]
"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)
“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)
Long(>30k):
"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)
Harrow has a decision to make.
"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)
All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.
"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎
It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.
"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)
Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.
"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)
Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.
"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.
Ongoing:
"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s
"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)
ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library
TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.
"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)
After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.
"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)
John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.
PWP (basically):
"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎
“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.
"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎
"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.
"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)
“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.
"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)
“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.
"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎
Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.
"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.
"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)
Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”
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selfdiscoverymedia · 2 years
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LM22-27. James Campion and "Take a Sad Songs" Inspiration.
LM22-27. James Campion and “Take a Sad Songs” Inspiration.
fir the LOVE of Music with Sara Troy and her guest James Campion, on air from In The Emotional Currency of “Hey Jude,” James Campion dives deeply into the song’s origins, recording, visual presentation, impact, and eventual influence, while also discovering what makes “Hey Jude” a classic musical expression of personal comfort and societal unity conceived by a master songwriter, Paul McCartney.…
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cartermagazine · 2 months
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Today In History
Langston Hughes was a prolific writer who worked in many genres: poetry, fiction, nonfiction, drama, musicals, and children’s books.
As a popular newspaper columnist, Hughes created a fictitious Harlem narrator named Simple. Deeply interested in developing a black theater, Hughes founded the New Negro Theater in Los Angeles March 19, 1939.
His life and work were enormously important in shaping the artistic contributions of the Harlem Renaissance. He wanted to tell the stories of his people in ways that reflected their actual culture, including both their suffering and their love of music, laughter, and language itself.
CARTER™ Magazine
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sitp-recs · 10 months
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15 fics with Harry pursuing unusual careers
I love the adrenaline and potential angst within the Auror partners trope as much as the next guy, but we can all agree that our mental health improves 10 times when we see Harry leaving the Ministry, embracing other possibilities and making his own destiny. This rec list hopes to celebrate those creative, disruptive, feel-good fics that are not afraid to come up with the most absurd positions and original job titles. They can be fun, smutty, depressing, hopeful or cathartic; there’s a little bit of everything in here and I’m hoping to bring some hidden gems into everyone’s radar, too. Happy readings!
Twisted Wizards by Enchanted_Jae (T, 3k)
Draco is just putting his life back together when Potter comes along and mucks it all up again. Job: storm chaser
The R. Correspondence by noeon (T, 7.5k)
While working on the Bagshot papers, Draco makes an important discovery for British Wizarding History. Now if only Harry can keep him alive long enough to enjoy it. Job: private security consultant
Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)
Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping. Job: writer
Home County, orphaned (G, 10k)
Harry is an architect and the reluctant part-owner of his own firm. Malfoy works at The Ministry but doesn’t actually have a proper job title even though what he does sounds as though it’s pretty important. Job: architect
A Working Title by mindabbles (E, 12k)
Another in the long line of absurd biographies finally drives Harry to a desperate act. How desperate he doesn't know until his ghost writer shows up at his door. Job: Daily Prophet columnist
An Improbable Bout of Summer Madness by acari (E, 16k)
Draco had planned a quiet, peaceful summer holiday with his son. The last thing he expected was to find Potter here, in Draco's little Cornish retreat. Making fudge in a shop? The idea was too ludicrous for words. Job: fudge shop owner
The Strongest Affinity by @eidheann (T, 17k)
Trouble finding a wand for Scorpius leads Harry and Draco to something they never imagined. Job: wandmaker
Phoenix Repair Services by carpemermaid (E, 20k)
Draco hires a suspiciously private wizarding handyman to fix his kitchen when he returns home to find it destroyed. He expects a middle-aged wizard with greying hair and a pudgy gut to show up. Instead, he gets Harry Potter—with a utility belt and a charming smile—who is more attractive than he has any right to be. Job: Handyman
The Snitch-Maker by Omi_Ohmy (T, 21k)
Draco is content with his Snitches, with the tap tap tap of his hammer, and the tiny gears and sharp scent of metal in his workshop - until one day Harry Potter appears, asking for help to solve a rash of Snitch-tampering in the Quidditch world. Job: QUABBLE official (Quidditch representative)
Silhouettes in Sunsets by Pie (T, 22k)
Draco Malfoy was a Gringotts accountant by day and a luthier by night, making musical instruments that sang the language of the player’s heart, language audible only to the ears of his soul mate. Harry Potter was a struggling quill pal to the children of war and the owner of Hedwig’s Owl Emporium on Diagon—haven for future pets, owls retired from services and orphaned chicks. Job: Owl Emporium owner
Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)
Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win. Job: broomstick racer
Doing the Lambeth Walk by @blamebrampton (T, 26k)
There are only three traditional choices for the cashed-up hero after victory. Harry Potter is too young to settle down and provide the wizarding world with a happy ending, and has too acute a sense of humour to spiral downwards into a spectacular flame-out. That leaves a life of good works. Job: Owner of a Social Housing and Care Centre
All Roads by @korlaena (M, 36k)
Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesn’t want to face the truth about himself, but he’s stuck between Harry and his duty, and he’s out of options. Job: Magizoologist
Whimsical by strawberryrose (T, 42k)
In which Draco is completely out of his depth (until he isn’t), Harry builds something improbable with the help of his friends, and everyone bonds over food. Job: amusement park owner
What Shall Not Be Unearthed by @iero0 (E, 49k)
At the northernmost point of Shetland, surrounded by pointed cliffs, towers the Ootsta Lighthouse on a small isle in the middle of the open sea. Little does Harry know that he's not the only new lighthouse keeper. Draco Malfoy is as obnoxious as he always was, with his posh tone of voice and his luxury yacht jumpers. Job: lighthouse keeper
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dropout-if · 8 months
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Dropout Customization
Due to some questions about MC customization, I have decided to compile all the physical and personality aspects that are selectable about the Dropout.
A reminder that this is all subject to change and that new things may be added (or deleted). Feedback and ideas to further develop MC are encouraged.
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Main Ideas
Name Surname Nickname
Sex, Gender, Pronouns (it's possible to customise them), Breast/Pecs, Penis/Vagina (If MC is transgender, their transition takes place while they're away) Title (Ms. / Mr. / Mx.)
Virginity or lack thereof.
If MC is trans (when they realized about it [high school, middle school, college] and if they told their family // the ROs already know, as MC told Uma and J, and word spread).
Birthday which establishes the Dropout's age as either 21 or 22 depending on the season (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter)
Major (Engineering, Biology, Chemistry, Computer science, Law, Economics, Education (in relation to science/maths/etc), Mathematics, Physics, Psychology). The Dropout's Major affects flavor text. These options are the ones approved by the Dropout's parents, though it's possible for MC to express interest in other degrees/topics (music, art, English, anthropology, archeology, classical studies, history).
Reason behind dropping out (MC got kicked out (they were caught cheating) MC didn't get a high enough GPA and dropped out / MC never even wanted to go to college and ultimately decided they wanted out / MC didn't fit in (they were discriminated, lonely, etc) though they really liked college / MC originally liked their degree and college but gradually lost interest in the entire thing / MC never liked their degree and decided to drop out / Something specifically related to mental health (mainly anxiety) / Impostor's syndrome.) This affects flavor text.
2 Coping Mechanisms (Alcohol, Tobacco, Drugs, Sleeping around, Avoidance, Overspending, Humor, *Hobby (overworking self) [Anger, Fake/forced happiness, Sadness, Indifference].) Each coping mechanism opens a variable and a storyline. You can choose two, though choosing one related to emotional responses [between brackets] automatically blocks out the others.
2 Hobbies (Singing, playing an instrument, songwriting, creative writing, drawing, sketching, sculpting, acting, photography, soccer, football, swimming, basketball, gymnastics, boxing, judo, karate, taekwondo, kickboxing, going to the gym, cooking/baking, dancing [ballet, contemporary dance, modern], yoga.) This affects flavor text and scenes.
Job (Bartender [Wanda, Statler is also around often], Cashier [Statler], Columnist [J (+Kai if poly)], Caregiver [Kai], Waiter/Waitress [Uma (+Travis if poly)], Tutor [Travis]) Each job gives you more time with a certain RO, as well as unlocking a storyline.
Personality Stats
Playful/Serious Honest/Dishonest Friendly/Rude Introverted/Extroverted Laid-back/Uptight Cynical/Idealistic Flirty/Reserved Family oriented/Individualistic
Others: Insomnia, Migraines
Physical Appearance
*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.
Height (very tall, talk, average, short, very short)
Skin tone (ebony, dark brown, light brown, russet, golden, olive, honey, tawny, tanned, fair, rosy, ivory.) Choosing any skin tone gives you the possibility of choosing to be a poc (idea I stole from Mila, @beyondthegame)
*Build (scrawny, skinny, lithe, lean, muscular, chubby, curvy, hourglass).
*Hair color (max 3 tones, 1 base and other 2) (possible to return home with a mess of dye for Maude to fix. NATURAL (Ashen blonde, Sunflower blonde, Strawberry blonde, Caramel, Honey brown, Chocolate brown, Copper, Auburn, Ruby red, Midnight brown, Jet black, Ebony black) NON-NATURAL (Pink, Violet, Lilac, Blue jade, Vermilion red, Snowy white, Silver, Emerald green, Canary yellow, Bleached).
Hair texture (kinky, very coiled, coiled, curly, wavy, slightly wavy, straight)
*Hair length (ear-length, chin-length, shoulder-length, below shoulder-length, chest-length, waist-length)
*Hair style (SHORT/MEDIUM: natural, side-parted, mullet, layered, bob, ponytail, twin ponytails, buzz fade, slick back, messy, wolf cut, bun. LONG: natural, high/low ponytail, messy, shaggy, California waves, a half updo, side-swept, bun, braid, twin braids, twin ponytails).
*Eye color (albino red, dark blue, light blue, dark green, light green, hazel, amber, chestnut brown, chocolate brown, black, grey).
Others
*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.
*Glasses (yes, no, contacts)
*Facial hair (No/shaved. Stubble, full beard, goatee, ducktail,van dyke, garibaldi, mustache, soul patch, light beard).
Scars, can choose as many as possible (Back, chest, abdomen, upper and lower arm, thigh, knees, calf, mouth area, neck, cheek, hands, eye area, shoulder)
*Tattoos (One big in X body area, patch-like bodysuit, bodysuit, one/two sleeves, just legs, a few tattoos all over, a small in X place).
*Piercings (Ears [helix, lobe, industrial], navel, tongue, nose ring and septum, eyebrow, lips, smiley, nipples, genital)
Dimples
Braces
Freckles (face, body, both)
Beauty mark, multiple (under eye, over lip, neck, body)
*Outfit/Style (streetwear, alternative, cute, preppy, casual, formal, business casual, dark academia, messy, boho/eclectic, comfortable)
*Bedroom, at family home and at new apartment (messy, colorful, emo, basic, boho, modern, industrial, vintage, minimalist, cute)
*Diet (vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian, keto, meat-eater, lactose intolerant)
Family pet (small/large dog, cat, fish tank, hamster/rabbit/guinea pig, cockatiel/parrot/canaries)
Characters
Closeness to all family members (tight-knit, close, so-so, cold, barely any relationship)
Same with the friend group
Crush on Statler during high school (yes/no)
'Popularity' during high school and college (popular, social butterfly [got along with many people but wasn't part of the popular groups], normal, loner, outcast [somewhat antagonistic in a way/rebel].)
191 notes · View notes
therobotmonster · 2 months
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"Doctor Martin, why are you an atheist?"
Director Maria Kleinheart wasn't the sort of person who asked indirect or idle questions. She was in every way a Kleinheart, the spitting image of her grandmother. Only she wasn't staring out from a yellowed ad in a back issue of Popular Science or Woman's Day, she was staring from across desk made of polished slate.
Emil Martin didn't respond immediately. That sort of question usually came with an invitation to services or a badgering about Pascal's wager. That didn't fit what he knew about the director, though that wasn't much. An intense religious conversion would explain the rumors around her distance from the rest of her family.
"Director, is this a personal or work related question?" Emil finally asked.
"Work." She replied.
"Is that appropriate?"
"Yes. This is about security clearances."
That made even less sense. Emil decided to risk a lecture on his eternal soul and answered truthfully. "Pretty standard, insufficient evidence."
"Would you rather it be true?" She asked. "Would it be comforting to know you existed for a purpose, that someone was in charge of your existence, caring for you?"
"Not really." Emil replied. "I'm rather Hitchenisan in that regard."
"Good enough. Follow me."
-
"BE NOT AFRAID."
The words seemed to come out of the air itself. The thing was at the center of the large, expansive lab that had once been a missile silo. It was a sphere, surrounded by two rings of brass-like metal. The rings were lined with hemispherical semi-translucent white glass or crystal protrusions. The inner ring spun slowly, as did the central core, though only the faintest irregularities in its glowing blue-white corona revealed that motion.
The outer ring was held in place with steel chains, each link six inches in diameter. Two chains locked the ring to the floor, while a third latched the top to the ceiling. The cuffs the chains connected to seemed to have been welded shut around it.
"BE NOT AFRAID." It 'spoke' again. Its voice was clear and musical, but wrong and artificial at the same time. It sounded like familiar voices; his mother and father, his cousins, his old school pals, his boyfriends, even Director Kleinheart, each synthesized poorly via an AI speech simulator, all speaking in perfect time.
Every time it spoke, Emil smelled his grandfather's sweet cornbread fresh from the oven.
"That looks like an angel." He finally gasped.
"Looks like." Director Kleinheart smiled. He wasn't sure she could do that. "I knew we picked the right man."
"This is why you were asking about my beliefs?"
"Yes Doctor Martin. You see, freedom of religion is an extension of the principle of innocence until proven guilty. Once one faith is shown to be correct, all others are revealed as wrong."
"And you wanted to make sure I, what, wasn't guilty of being wrong?"
"No, the mistaken are innocent of everything except the actions they directly take." Kleinheart continued. "It's the ones who would take this to mean they were right that are fifth columnists to an unaccountable alien power."
"Oh." Emil replied. He didn't know quite what else to say.
"I want you on our team that's studying it. We need to know how it works, what it's made of, what those things its made of can be used for, you know the drill."
"BE NOT AFRAID." Again came the smell of cornbread.
"Are the restraints necessary?" Emil asked. "It is telling us we don't need to be afraid of it."
"Oh, we thought that too at first." The director said. "But we've already learned quite a bit about our little intruder here, even a bit of its 'source code' for lack of a better analogue. That message isn't meant for us."
"What is it then?"
"Can't you guess, Doctor?"
Dr. Emil Martin shrugged. "I have no idea."
"It isn't giving us a warning."
Director Kleinheart smiled for the second time in Emil's memory and spoke again.
"It's repeating its orders."
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clairedaring · 1 month
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Netflix Thai Original Line-up Information
(updated as of January 2024)
2024
1. Ready, Set, Love (Series)
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Release: February 15, 2024
Summary: In a parallel universe, female newborns vastly outnumber their male counterparts due to an inexplicable pandemic. As men become rarer, they are hailed as “national treasures,” and women must win their affections in a government-sponsored competition called “Ready, Set, Love.” An ordinary young woman named Day is unexpectedly accepted into the competition where she meets Son, the most popular guy, and sparks fly. Together they uncover a conspiracy operating beneath the surface, which threatens their love and the world they have come to know.
Director: Yanyong Kuruangkura
Writer: Rangsima Akarawiwat, Phuwanit Pholdee
Producer: Anuthida Silanarong
Production Partner: Get More Film Plus
Cast: Blue Pongtiwat, Belle Kemisara, Lily Nichapalak, Man Trisanu
2. The Believers (Series)
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Release: March 27, 2024
Summary: Three young and ambitious entrepreneurs must find a way to repay a mountain of debt from their failed startup, when they stumble upon an unthinkable “business” opportunity — exploiting people’s beliefs in religion for money.
Director: Wattanapong Wongwan
Writer: Aummaraporn Phandintong, Watcharapol Paksri Asamaporn Samakphan, Perapat Rukngam, Jiraporn Sae-lee
Producer: Chanajai Tonsaithong, Somprasong Srikrajang
Production Partner: Joy Luck Club Film House, Deluxe Production
Cast: James Teeradon, Peach Pachara Chirathivat, Ally Achiraya
3. Doctor Climax (Series)
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Release: May 2024
Summary: In the late ‘70s when sex talk is still taboo, the life of a straitlaced skin doctor and specialist in venereal diseases is turned upside down when he starts moonlighting as a sex columnist under the pseudonym “Doctor Climax.
Creator: Ekachai Uekrongtham
Director: Kongdej Jaturanrasmee, Pairach Khumwan
Writer: Kongdej Jaturanrasmee, Tinnapat Banyatpiyaphoj
Executive Producer: Ekachai Uekrongtham
Production Partner: GMM Studios International
Cast: Ter Chantavit, Goy Arachaporn, Praew Chermawee, Ton Tonhon Tantivejakul, Tob Chaiwat
4. Terror Tuesday: Extreme (Series)
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Release: TBA
Summary: A collection of haunting hit stories inspired by the “Angkhan Khlumpong (Terror Tuesday)” radio program with terrorizing twists and turns that are dialed up to the extreme.
Director: Prin Keeratiratanalak, Abhichoke Chandrasen, Prueksa Amaruji, Chayan Laoyodtrakool, Surapong Ploensang, Chookiat Sakveerakul, Eakasit Thairaat, Alisa Pien
Writer: Prin Keeratiratanalak, Abhichoke Chandrasen, Prueksa Amaruji, Kasidej Sundararjun, Pun Homchuen, Onusa Donsawai, Chookiat Sakveerakul, Thanamas Dhalerngsuk, Eakasit Thairaat, Kanokphan Ornrattanasakul
Producer: Chartchai Worapiankul, Genwaii Thongdeenok, Duangkamol Wongpratoom, Chayamporn Taeratanachai, Chuyot Mueagyot
Production Partner: ATIME, BrandThink Cinema
Cast: Nat Kitcharit, Piglet Charada, Gee Sutthirak, Smile Parada, Earn Pattaravadee, Cherprang Areekul, Music Praewa Suthamphong, Rujira Chuaykua, Not Vorarit, Praew Narupornkamol, Poon Mitpakdee, Care Panisara, Tonhorm Sakuntala, Pat Chayanit, Point Cholawit, Bee Namthip, Sydney Supitcha, Kachapa Tonjaroen, Nina
Yarinda
5. Master of the House (Series)
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Release: TBA
Summary: When a diamond tycoon dies mysteriously, a cutthroat battle over his estate erupts between his ruthless heirs and the housemaid whom their father recently married.
Director: Sivaroj Kongsakul
Writer: Nut Nualpang, Weerasu Worrapot, Vatanyu Ingkavivat, Sita Likitvanichkul, Athimes Arunrojangkul
Executive Producer: Kulp Kaljareuk
Production Partner: Kantana Motion Pictures
Cast: Yada Narilya, Bie Teerapong, Chai Chartayodom, Gap Thanavate, Nus Nusba, Claudia Chakrabandhu
6. Don’t Come Home (Series)
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Release: TBA (Series)
Summary: A mother and her young daughter flee to their family’s abandoned mansion but soon find themselves haunted by paranormal incidents that lead to the little girl’s mysterious disappearance.
Director Woottidanai Intarakaset
Writer Woottidanai Intarakaset, Aummaraporn Phandinthong
Producer Thananuj Ebrahim
Production Partner: Hub Ho Hin Bangkok
Cast: Noon Woranuch, Pear Pitchapa, Cindy Sirinya, Ploypaphas Fonkaewsiwaporn
7. Tomorrow and I (Series)
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Release: TBA
Summary: This anthology series explores the intersection of futuristic technologies and Thai culture, and the unimaginable tensions and moral dilemmas that arise out of their inevitable conflict
Director: Paween Purijitpanya
Writer: Paween Purijitpanya, Pat Pataranutaporn, Jirawat Watthanakiatpanya, Abhichoke Chandrasen, Tossaphon Riantong, Panuwat Inthawat, Eakasit Thairaat
Producer: Surawut Tungkarak
Production Partner: Jungka
Cast: Violette Wautier, Aelm Bhumibhat Thavornsiri, Ray Macdonald, Phuak Pongsatorn, Boy Pakorn, Ink Waruntorn, Poyd Treechada, Tangkwa Chananticha, Wanichaya Pornpanarittichai
8. Bangkok Breaking: Heaven and Hell (Film)
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Release: TBA
Summary: When a dedicated rescue worker inadvertently gets caught up in the kidnapping plot of a mogul's tween daughter, he must save her from the clutches of rival gangs hunting them down with unpredictable dangers around every corner.
-> Note: Film sequel to 2021 Netflix Thai original series Bangkok Breaking
Director: Kongkiat Komesiri
Writer: Kongkiat Komesiri
Producer: Kongkiat Komesiri, Piyaluck Mahatanasab
Production Partner: Kongkiat Production
Cast: Weir Sukollawat, Duu Sanya, Mind Atitaya
2023
1. The Lost Lotteries (Film)
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Release: November 16, 2022
Synopsis: A heist-comedy film about 5 losers united by a crazy mission to retrieve their 30-million-baht winning lottery tickets from a mafia gang headquartered in a firecracker factory.
Director and Writer: Prueksa Amaruji 
Producer: Ekachai Uekrongtham 
Starring: Wongravee Nateetorn, Phantira Pipityakorn, Napapa Tantrakul, Somjit Jongjohor, Thanaporn Wagprayoon, Padung SongSang 
Production Partner: GMM Studios International
2. Hunger (Film)
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Release: April 8, 2023
Synopsis: Aoy, a woman in her twenties, runs her family’s local stir-fried noodles restaurant in the old quarter of Bangkok. One day, she receives an invitation to leave the family business and join team ‘Hunger’, Thailand’s number one luxury Chef’s table team led by the famously ingenious, and infamously nasty, Chef Paul.
Director: Sitisiri Mongkolsiri
Producer: Kongdej Jaturanrasmee, Soros Sukhum  
Writer: Kongdej Jaturanrasmee 
Starring: Aokbab Chutimon, Peter Nopachai Jayanama, Gunn Svasti 
Production Partner: Song Sound Production
3. The Murderer (Film)
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Streaming date: July 27, 2023
Synopsis: When an English man is accused of murdering his Thai in-laws, his wife is the only witness that stands between guilt and freedom.
Director: Wisit Sasanatieng
Producer: Transformation Films
Writer: Abishek J. Bajaj
Starring: Mum Jokmok, Oom Eisaya Hosuwan, James Laver
Production Partner: Transformation Films
4. Once Upon A Star (Film)
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Streaming date: October 11, 2023
Synopsis: Join the crew of a traveling pharma-cinema troupe as they go on the road to spread the joy of live-dubbed movies, all while overcoming difficulties, deceits, and reaching for their dreams.
Director and Producer: Nonzee Nimibutr
Writer: Ek Iemchuen
Starring: Weir Sukollawat, Noona Nuengthida, Kao Jirayu, Samart Payakaroon, Nat Sadaktorn 
Production Partner: 18 Tanwa
5. Delete (Series)
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Streaming date: June 28, 2023
Synopsis: The story of a complicated relationship with secrets to hide, and a grim question to ponder: who do you want to delete from your life? 
Director and Producer: Parkpoom Wongpoom
Writer: Parkpoom Wongpoom, Jirassaya Wongsutin, Tossaphon Riantong
Starring: Nat Kitcharit, Ice Natara, Fah Sarika, Aokbab Chutimon, Jaonaay Jinjett 
Production Partner: GDH
6. Analog Squad (Series)
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Release: December 7, 2023
Synopsis: At the turn of the millenium, a group of misfits is hired to play the part of estranged family members in order to fill in the cracks of one broken family.
Director: Nithiwat Tharatorn
Producer: Nalina Chayasombat
Writer: Nithiwat Tharatorn, Aummaraporn Phandintong, Chanathip Amonpiyaphong, Sopana Chaowwiwatkul
Starring: Peter Nopachai, Jaylerr Krissanapoom, Namfon Kullanut, Primmy Wipawee
Production Partner: Jungka Bangkok
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vintagelasvegas · 7 months
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New Town Tavern, 600 Jackson Ave, Las Vegas, in 1967. Photo by Clinton Wright. One of the oldest clubs in Las Vegas, destroyed by fire 10/15/2023.
Town Tavern was opened Jul. ‘55 by owners Marie and Earl Turmon, locals who lived at nearby 708 Madison. In its heyday of the late 50s the 24-hour bar, casino, and coffee shop was central to Westside’s nightlife scene. After the closure of the Moulin Rouge in Fall ’55, Town Tavern became the main Westside destination for black performers who were headlining the segregated Strip hotels.
Nat King Cole, Sammy Davis Jr, Cab Calloway, Arthur Lee Simpkins, Bob Bailey, Dorothy Dandridge, and the Ink Spots all performed in a single night during an NAACP cocktail party in Dec. '55. Review-Journal columnist Forrest Duke wrote of another night when, “Pearl Bailey and her Flamingo gang sashayed over to Earl Turmon’s Town Tavern Wednesday night, and the joint was, to put it rather mildly, jumping.” Another columnist’s blurb describes an employee’s going-away party with music by jazz musicians Christine Chatman (singer, piano), Al Morgan (bass), Chuck Hampton (drums), and Bob Bailey as emcee, “there with his lovely wife Anna who dances in the Pearl Bailey’s Flamingo show.”
The club became “New” Town Tavern in late ’59 and operated more or less continually until 2013. Westside's nightlife scene deteriorated in the 60s – the unplanned byproduct of integration was the decline in black gaming establishments, but Town Tavern remained. Florence Elmore owned the club in '70-71. Danny Curtis & Elijah Green bought the club in '71; Green was still the owner in the 80s, renovating and enlarging the club after a fire in '81. In the 90s it became “Ultra New” Town Tavern and continued operated under this name until closing.
Town Tavern originally had a top hat-shaped sign. Its second sign with "Town Tavern" in a ribbon and "Casino" in a circle, was installed in the early 60s and remained until 2023. In 2016 the words "Town Tavern" were replaced with "Tokyo" for a casino which ultimately never opened. The sign was removed from the building on 8/16/2023.
1967 photos from Clinton Wright Photographs (PH-00379), UNLV Special Collections & Archives.
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Sources: "Opening.” Review-Journal, 7/6/55; “NAACP Plan Party for Sunday.” Review-Journal, 12/24/57; Forrest Duke. Review-Journal, 1/16/59; “Take Pickets Off Westside Casino Beat.” Review-Journal, 9/7/59; J. Berger. Black casinos flourished during days of segregation. Review-Journal, 11/10/75; “Arson suspected in tavern fire.” Review-Journal, 5/25/81; “West Las Vegas Casinos Have New Look – And Dreams.” Las Vegas Sentinel Voice, Vol. 4, Issue 25, 10/20/83; C. Drummond. 'It's a legend gone': Fire destroys Historic Westside building, and Clean up of Historic Westside building destroyed by fire. News3LV, 10/17/2023.
Note. Prior to Town Tavern, this corner 1400 F St. was the site of the earliest known Westside casinos. It was Shady Rest Barbecue, licensed for slot machines on 9/17/42, and Club Alabam, aka Smokey Joe's Club Alabama the following year. Fuller's Index of Nevada Gaming Establishments says the Club Alabam was licensed for 21 from 5/1/43 to 7/2/43. City Commission Meeting Minutes of 7/2/43 (p97) states that the liquor and gaming license of Joe LaDue at Club Alabam was denied. The club burned down 9/29/43. Liquor License. Review-Journal, 9/17/42; Westside Club Burns, Officers Say Incendiary. Review Journal, 9/29/43.
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nanoa1foryou · 4 months
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Columnist Arttu Seppänen wrote about Käärijä in Helsingin Sanomat today, and I have thoughts (most of them disorganized).
His point is that the modern world is divisive and that it is incredible to see something bring us together. However, his point is also that Käärijä is threatening to get chained to a stereotype. He critisizes Käärijä's music for centering on drinking. Generally understandable in the Finnish context.
However, he completely missed there that the point of Cha Cha Cha was more about breaking your shell than drinking. And better yet, he took as his second example Toiset Samanlaiset. The one about making a long career, in which Käärijä's verse openly criticizes the media maddness he has been subject to, which Seppänen is now contributing to, in a way.
Yes, both are in theory drinking songs, but it is doing a disservise to them to call them just that. What I find very frustrating, is that he is simplifying Käärijä's entire discography to that: drinking songs. That he judging by the music output this year, he runs the risk of being a one trick wonder who does nothing more than sing about drinking.
Yes, Seppänen is overexaggerating to make a point, but we are talking about the one rapper who has gained notability through the diversity of his song topics when compared to other similar artists. Fucking around on the commuter train (Z), the frustration that hooks you to gambling (Yhtä Vailla), when you just have such a shit day that everything only serves to upset you (Hirttää Kiinni), trying to shed that tough guy attitude (Kovis).
I really don't think he's running the risk of only talking about drinking in his songs.
Also, Seppänen goes through some other interesting points that have nothing to do with the rest really. That Vilma Alina deserves more regognition (agreed), that Jere looks like a sirkus animal on stage (rude, but it's not like Jere hasn't said the same), and that the Finnish language won't be a problem for international success (and this pone he could have very well tied into the point of uniting people, but nope, he makes a point about standing out).
The one point of his that I really like, is the implication of Käärijä's and particularly Cha Cha Cha's quality, that made it break through. In the beginning Seppänen notes that the song divides opinions, as do most hits like it. In the end, he notes that algorithmic content and majority of what goes viral online is divisive, because that is what gets interaction. The implication is, that by being so divisive, Käärijä went viral and then became a force to unite people this year.
So yeah, like the other columns I've seen where Käärijä is used to make a point, it has some hits and some misses, which is understandable considering that the writers are rarely fans and more just a member of the general public speaking to the general public.
Really, I'm just wondering if I even understood this kolumn at all, considering how it feels its going through all sorts of hoops about current events in Finnish music.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 months
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Stancy career ideas: Nancy becomes an investigative reporter, and Steve becomes a sports reporter. Ooh! Oh! They all open their own newspaper. Eddie covers music. Robin can cover editorials. Chrissy is an advice columnist. Argyle can cover food. Jonathan is, of course, the photographer. Vickie does reviews.
I ran out of tags. Lol. The Spicy Hawkins Queerzette, coming to you live queer as fuck.
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littlemisspascal · 1 year
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Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere
pairing: modern-ish Pero x Female Reader
summary: In which Reader is a newspaper columnist with few self-preservation instincts, Statesman is an insurance company with a catchy jingle, and Pero is the insurance agent assigned to look after you. Except only two outta three of these statements are true.
word count: 3k+
rating: T
warnings: Reader is nameless with no description except for being shorter than Pero, language, blood, violence, guns, non-major character death, Author’s poor attempt at humor, Author knows nothing about insurance and/or a career in journalism, mistaken identity, supernatural elements, worldbuilding
author note: this is what happens when I watch Puss in Boots The Last Wish and then a Statefarm commercial and then random inspiration sparks. It’s borderline a crack fic, but hey, sometimes that’s what the muse wants. I even have more scenes outlined beyond this so...Hopefully someone out there enjoys this 😊 
The story of how you wound up in Wader’s Rest is a rather boring chain of events that can be summed up as follows: you graduate with a journalism degree, spend the next five years trying and failing to convince a major news outlet to hire you all the while typing up fluff pieces for your hometown’s website so you can afford food and other necessities, receive a job offer out of the fucking blue offering you a columnist job in a town hundreds of miles away, decide screw it let’s go and…yeah, that’s about it. For these last six months, Wader's Rest has been your new home.
Wader's Rest is a medium-sized-ish community settled along the southern coastline, perpetually smelling of freshly caught fish and sea salt. It’d be a decent tourist destination, in your opinion, if it wasn’t also a hive of criminal activity, crawling with smugglers and drug dealers and fugitives. The city can be split into two types of people: crime-doers and crime-avoiders. 
Oh, yeah, and then there’s you in a solo category of your own making: crime-seeker. Insert trumpet fanfare here.
There’s a grand total of one newspaper responsible for updating residents on all things Wader's Rest-related. Wader’s Reader has a staff of twelve working all hours of the day in an ugly brick building on the corner of Main Street, right across from a coffee shop you’re 65% sure is a front for black market antiques but it’s also the only place that doesn’t judge the ungodly amount of sugar you pour in your drink so. Until that percentage rises up to 100%, you reckon it’s alright giving them a pass in the meantime.
In a time where a quick search on your phone or computer can answer any conceivable question you have in seconds, the residents of Wader's Rest are strangely protective of their newspaper. Like, Gollum my precious! kind of protective. The most likely reason is probably because the internet access out here is so painfully slow it’s practically nonexistent, but you like to think they actually look forward to reading your column. No more writing about baking contests and music festivals, not when you’ve discovered the addictive adrenaline rush of investigating the many, many, many crimes of Wader's Rest. Nothing else gets your blood pumping as much as witnessing an illegal exchange of weapons in the back parking lot of a Wendy’s. 
So it isn’t uncommon then, to spend your nights crouched behind dumpsters (or sometimes even inside them) or picking locks or doing other shady-as-hell-if-you-had-any-other-job activities in order to gather all the facts and details you need to write the perfect piece for your loyal readers. Insert inspiring quote here like fortune favors the bold or whatever.
It also isn’t uncommon for your nights to end either in the hospital or covered in so many bandages it looks like you spent the night in the hospital. You’re on a first name basis with most of the staff, including Dr. William Garin who’s got such vibrant crystal blue eyes he could’ve been a glasses modeler in another life. Shame he’s got such overwhelming heart-eyes for your boss or you’d be severely tempted to shoot your shot.
Anyways.
See, the problem is, you’re not exactly a master of subtlety yet, and also some of your column subjects don’t always appreciate being watched like they’re zoo animals—they appreciate it even less when you point out that conducting their illegal business in creepy alleyways and abandoned warehouses doesn’t magically make them invisible. Really, any Average Joe could stroll right in and watch the proceedings.
You grunt, head banging against a cement wall so hard you see stars. A meaty fist tightens its grip on your shirt, holding you high enough the toes of your sneakers barely scuff the ground, while the owner of that fist—so massively muscular he’s more of a grizzly bear than a man—glares down at you through narrowed eyes.
Yeah, all those Average Joes really don’t know the fun they're missing out on. Concussions plus bruised, possibly cracked ribs equal exciting times
“Hey Big Mac,” you wheeze, blinking until your vision’s more or less clear and his unimpressed face swims into focus. “Did you get more muscles? You look like you got more muscles.”
If possible, his unimpressed look increases. 
Big Mac’s been a recurring foe since your first week in Wader's Rest when you went out for a midnight McDonald’s run—you have a weak spot for their McFlurries, alright?—and discovered him throwing bricks at the neighboring weed shop’s front window. Where he got the sack of bricks remains a mystery, but upon shattering the glass he was in and out in a matter of thirty seconds with an armful of edibles before disappearing into the darkness of night. You’d been so stunned by the whole ordeal not only had you forgotten to call the police, but your McFlurry had melted before you’d even tasted it.
You’ve lost count at this point how many times he’s been featured in one of your columns. Big Mac’s like a really nasty stain on a white shirt, impossible to ignore, but he’s also smooth as fucking butter, sliding out of cuffs before any charges can stick. You don’t even know the giant’s real name (don’t care to learn it either, the nicknames you hand out like free candy add some extra pizazz to the writing)—just that he likes edibles and that when he’s not breaking store windows he can usually be found working as a henchman for any one of the twenty something crime lords in the city. Apparently they don’t mind sharing lackeys so long as there’s no loose lips. Snitches wind up in ditches after all. 
Tonight you’ve interrupted a clandestine meeting in the factory district between Big Mac and a new fellow you’d decided to call Stringbean due to his lithe frame—you never claimed to be creative with your nicknaming ability. All it took was accidentally knocking over a trash can with a deafening bang and here you are, helpless as an overturned turtle, hoping you can talk your way out of this predicament with as little bloodshed as possible.
The telltale cocking of a gun immediately dampens those hopes.
Both you and Big Mac look to the sound, finding Stringbean aiming a pistol your direction. He’s a nervous-looking thing, sweat shining on his brow, and there’s few things in life as scarily unpredictable as a twitchy man with a loaded gun. 
“What are you doing,” Big Mac rumbles without any inflection in his tone.
“We agreed no witnesses,” is the breathy, slightly nasally response. Nothing about Stringbean–aside from the weapon in his hands–screams bad guy. He’s thin, bespectacled, suit too neatly pressed like it’s his Sunday best clothes. You estimate him lasting about a week before the bigger sharks gobble him up and spit out his—you squint, oh good lord—his bumblebee patterned bow tie as the only evidence of his existence. 
“Witness?” you pipe up. “Witness to what exactly? Care to shed some light–ugh!”
The rest of your sentence ends in another choked wheeze as Big Mac shoves you against the wall again. Yep, something’s definitely broken in your body now. He’s not even looking at you, the bastard, like you’re not even a worthy enough threat to keep an eye on for any devious tricks.
Instead, Big Mac says something to Stringbean, probably some kind of grumbling threat about tearing Stringbean’s head from his shoulders if he doesn’t put the gun away, but the thunderous whooshing of blood in your ears prevents you from hearing if that’s right or not. It’s a good line though, the kind of line that tempts you to sneak it into your draft and hope your boss doesn’t cross it out with that damn red pen of hers, possessing a special sixth sense for sniffing out bullshit.
Stringbean retorts something that’s also lost on you–God, you really need to invest in a tape recorder, or some sort of phone app–but whatever he says has Big Mac dropping you without warning, lunging at the smaller man like a lion after a mouse. You fall on your hands and knees with a faint yelp, gritting your teeth at the instant blooms of pain shooting along your nerve endings. It takes you a second to collect yourself, but it’s a second too long to have wasted, remembering too late how dangerous your situation is—
Bang.
A scream escapes you, cowering against the wall in a scrunched up ball. Big Mac’s lying on the ground, unmoving, a chunk of his shoulder missing and gallons of blood gushing out like a damn river. Oh shit. Oh holy fucking shit. Stringbean’s on the cusp of hyperventilating, seeming unable to process his own actions, and then those anxious, too-wide eyes lock onto you. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“I’m sorry,” Stringbean says, and he actually sounds sincere. But the effect is immediately dulled when he lines up the gun directly with your face.
One would think, being mere seconds from a bullet entering your brain, that you’d have some kind of epiphany about the meaning of life. See flashes from your childhood, hear an angelic chorus, that kinda thing. The odds aren’t in your favor. There’s no healing from a headshot at this close range. You are going to die and the only stupid fucking thing you can think about is that damn catchy jingle.
Squeezing your eyes shut, words tumble out of your mouth at a frantic speed, “Anytime, anyplace, anywhere Statesman is there!”
Stringbean pulls the trigger.
Statesman designing a new kind of workers compensation insurance specifically catered for your risky lifestyle had been your boss’ idea. She knew the head guy of the company, some old bearded fellow straight out of a Wild West Eastwood movie called Champagne (no last name, just like Cher), pulled a couple of strings (which is probably code for glared him into submission), handed you a pen, got your signature, and boom—as of three days ago, Lin proudly informed you “You’re completely covered. Cuts, broken bones, rabid squirrel attacks, the whole shebang. Now get out of my office.”
You’d liked your old insurance and had been quite happy with their care, thank you very much. But there’s no arguing with Lin when she gets that glint in her eye like some kind of bird of prey. And besides, forcing insurance on you is a sign she cares, right? That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself anyways.
The commercials are enjoyable, you can admit that at least. Especially the ones where there’s some kind of dangerous situation involving rampaging bison or avalanches or whatnot and the agent, whose uniform includes a leather jacket and cowboy hat, swoops in to the rescue after the poor would-be victims shout out the jingle Anytime, anyplace, anywhere Statesman is there!, then teleports everyone to safety.
Entertaining? Yes. 
Realistic? Hell no.
There’s a high-pitched ringing in your ears, rattling around inside your skull. 
“—ime for this. Get up.”
Huh? Who’s that? 
“I don’t like repeating myself. Get. Up.”
Oh no. Eyes still shut, your hands search for a wound, for blood, patting all over your head, then your chest and torso. Nothing. Fuck, you’ve died and crossed over into the afterlife. That’s why there’s no injury or pain. Your life is over. The end. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. You can’t—
Something hard hits your leg. “You’re still alive.”
Your eyes snap open, surroundings blurring into focus. You’re in the warehouse still. Stringbean’s on the floor near Big Mac, sightless blue eyes staring back at you, a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead revealing blood and bone and brain matter. Immediately you avert your gaze, tasting bile in the back of your throat, and it’s only then you see the pair of boots by your legs.
A man stands over you, dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with soft-looking, unstyled brown hair and a stubbled jawline sharp enough to give papercuts. The words ruggedly handsome come to mind and stay there, banishing all other thoughts. Brown eyes so dark they’re verging on black stare down at you beneath furrowed brows, the perfect image of silent judgment. What the hell. He might just be the most attractive person you’ve ever seen, beating Dr. Pretty Eyes Garin by fucking leagues.
“Did you just kick me?” you ask before you can stop yourself, rising to your feet. Your head barely reaches his chest—a very broad chest, you can’t help noticing, leather straining at the shoulders to contain him—and you have to crane your head up to continue meeting his dull, half-lidded gaze.
“You weren’t listening,” says the stranger with a voice like the scrape of a butter knife on toast. Your heartbeat stutters, discovering a new favorite sound, and it takes you an embarrassingly long moment to realize you’re staring at his mouth with way more intensity than a person should look at another person’s mouth.
“Uh, yeah, well I-I thought I was dead. He was going to shoot me.” Your eyes drift towards Stringbean again, frowning at the gun in his hand. It doesn’t look like a pistol anymore, metal mangled and warped. “What the hell?”
“Backfired on him. Rare, but it happens.” He shrugs a shoulder, unconcerned, like he’s seen a thousand bloody incidents and he’s numb to the gore. And that’s…a scary thought to consider.
“Right...” You eye him a bit more critically now, taking in the scar dissecting his eyebrow. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t throw it.”
Irritation flares, momentarily overtaking the budding apprehension. It brushes against your journalist instincts, insisting you’re missing something here. “Alright, Mr. Nameless, do you want to at least explain what exactly you’re doing here in the middle of the night?”
“Same as you. Work,” he answers curtly, glancing at his wrist where an expensive-looking watch is wrapped around the tan skin. Your fingers twitch with the urge to touch. “When I’m called, I show up. No matter the time or place.” His eyes flicker around the room with thinly veiled disgust. “Even if it means coming to shitholes like this.”
He goes where he’s called? That’s an interesting and ominous choice of phrasing. What is he, some kind of hitman or secret agent or—
Wait a minute.
Dangerous situation. Popping up out of nowhere. Wearing a leather jacket. Your life is saved despite all the odds stacked against you.
Understanding hits like one of Big Mac’s bricks, finally connecting the dots together and good lord it’s so fucking obvious you fully deserve the forehead slap you give yourself. “Holy shit the jingle actually worked.”
His scarred eyebrow lifts. “What?”
“How did I not know this was a real thing?” you half-ask, half-demand, hands settling on your hips. “You’re proof teleportation is fucking real! I feel like this is something more people should be talking about. Unless…Unless not everyone has this kind of coverage. Oh my God, is this some kind of extra health protection bundle attached to my new contract written in the fine print?” 
That stupidly attractive eyebrow lifts even higher.
“Don’t give me that look. Nobody under seventy-five reads all those tiny words, especially when the whole stack is five hundred pages front and back. All those poor trees…Also,” you point an accusing finger, “you’re missing a cowboy hat so I really can’t be blamed for not recognizing you.”
“A cowboy hat?” His face screws up at that, and somehow he makes the expression of someone who stepped in dog shit look attractive. Seriously, how is this guy even real? “I’d rather die than wear one of those.”
You stare at him, slack-jawed at his bluntness. “First of all, too soon, man, too soon. There are dead bodies literally right there. And secondly, wow,” a smidge of awe slips into your tone, “you must have some balls, rebelling against the big boss man like that.”
Oh to have been a fly on the wall seeing Champagne’s reaction to the refusal to comply with the uniform policy. You’d only met the old man for a hot second, but considering his love of westerns it wouldn’t surprise you if he challenged his opponents to quick-fire duels at high noon. Water guns or foam pellets instead of actual bullets, of course. He might gargle with bourbon and use a spittoon, but that doesn’t mean he’s a total heathen.
You snort a quiet laugh, then wince at the ache in your rib cage. Oh, yeah. There’s that fun pain again. The nameless agent turns away with what you think is an eye roll, but it’s too fast to tell, and looks down at Big Mac and Stringbean.
“I-I guess I need to call the police,” you say quietly, stomach churning when a sideways glance reveals a growing pool of blood beneath the bodies. Scary to think how close you’d been to being one of them.
“If it makes you stop talking to me, go right ahead,” your companion quips, uncaring of the scoff he gets for it. 
You find your bag by the trash can you’d hidden behind before Big Mac seized you. Bag is a generous term for the accessory that’s more duct tape than fabric after being dropped, kicked, and run over amongst other unfortunate fates. Still, it does a good job of carrying your stuff so you’ll keep on stubbornly holding onto it until the bitter end.
Pulling out your phone, you open the keypad only for the whistling notes of a song to have you freezing in place. Literally, your body feels like it’s become a block of ice, goosebumps rising along your exposed skin. As surreptitiously as you can manage, you sneak a glance at the agent, and it shouldn’t be fair how someone can look so seductive with puckered lips while whistling such an eerily haunting tune. The sheer contrast is enough to make your brain hurt.
Or maybe that’s a side effect of your skull smacking against the wall.
“Did you forget it’s three numbers?” he says abruptly, startling you, and the way he’s now looking at you gives the distinct impression he thinks you’re an idiot. “Two, technically, since one repeats itself–”
“I know what to do,” you snap defensively, turning back to your phone with a huff. Deliberately you slam your thumb against the three buttons, but find yourself hesitating to press call.
Looking up, you find the nameless agent already staring back at you. His head tilts, displaying the same confusion of a dog not understanding their owner’s behavior. It’s…almost ridiculously cute.
“Thanks for, um, being here and stuff,” you tell him, barely restraining yourself from doing something awkward like giving a thumbs up.
He blinks, a flash of something you think resembles surprise crossing his face, and then he’s back to blankness. “I had to come,” he replies.
“Well, yeah, ‘cause of the magic jingle,” you wave a flippant hand, words tumbling out faster than you can keep up with them, “but still, it’s nice, you know, having someone to watch your back, even if I don’t know who you are–”
The sound of your name has your jaw shutting with an audible click. For a second time you think about the unfairness of the situation. He has access to your file, knows your name and personal details, and what do you get to know about him? Bupkis.
“...Yes?”
“Make the phone call,” he says, an edge of amusement in his voice that produces a funny warm feeling in your stomach. Nausea, you decide, that must be it.
Grumbling under your breath, you look back to your phone and finally hit the button, listening to it ring. 
“See,” you say, purposefully smug, turning around, “I’m not an idiot–”
The man is gone. 
Didn’t even say goodbye, the ill-mannered jerk.
And as the operator picks up, asking what’s your emergency, you can’t help but think your insurance agent is a bit of an enigmatic asshole. All intimidating and sour-faced to ward off unwanted attention. Probably thrives off confusing his clients like he’s some kind of damn Rubik’s cube personified. 
Which is good for you since you thrive off of solving mysteries and inserting your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’ll know his name, his birthdate, hell, his entire history by the end of the week.
You eat Rubik’s cubes for breakfast.
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presleybutlervsp · 3 months
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February 13, 1955
Elvis performed at the Fair Park Coliseum, Lubbock, Texas at 4.00 p.m.
The advertisement said: “Elvis Presley, The Be-Bop Western Star of the Louisiana Hayride, returns to Lubbock.”
This was the first booking that Bob Neal had obtained directly through The Colonel and the group was paid $350 for their performance and shared the bill with Charline Arthur, Jimmie Rodgers Snow, son of Hank, and Benjamin Francis “Whitey” Ford, a comedian and instrumentalist that performed under the name of “The Duke of Paducah”.
For this performance Dave Stone added a local aspiring country duo to open the show, “Buddy and Bob”. They were Charles Hardin Holley and Bob Montgomery and in addition to performing locally they had their own half hour radio show Sundays on KDAV where their repertoire was mainly country
(Holley’s mother always thought that Charles Hardin was rather a long name so simply called him Buddy).
If there was a single influence that indelibly shaped Buddy Holly’s life and music, it was Elvis. “Presley just blew Buddy away,” recalls Sonny Curtis. “None of us had ever seen anything like Elvis, the way he could get the girls jumping up and down, and that definitely impressed Holly. But it was the music that really turned Buddy around. He loved Presley’s rhythm –it wasn’t country and it wasn’t blues –it was somewhere in the middle and it suited just fine. After seeing Elvis, Buddy had only one way to go,” Rock and Roll. Buddy himself would later tell Billboard columnist Ren Grevatt that “without Elvis Presley none of us would have made it.“
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