#y: 1951

[bwallure]

STRANGERS ON A TRAIN (1951) dir. Alfred Hitchcock

[krenenbaker]

Trick or Treat~!

Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)

Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.

Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!

Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)

Floyd wanted to take a break. 

It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 

Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  

Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 

As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  

“Trick or treat~”

Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"

A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 

“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”

Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 

This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”

The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 

Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 

"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.

"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."

Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."

He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 

"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."

Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”

Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it”, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”

Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 

Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 

Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”

"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 

With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 

What a weird guy.

Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.

[weirdlookindog]

El extraño caso del hombre y la bestia (1951) - Italian Poster

AKA The Man and the Beast, The Strange Case of the Man and the Beast

[aiiaiiiyo]

[afranciscomiradiezblr-blog]

¿La Web de Surrealismo? Helmut Plumacher (1951-)

Si alguien tiene datos de este artista le agradecería  por adelantado los compartiese ¡Gracias!!

Nota: La propiedad intelectual de las imágenes ... ( todo) que aparecen en este blog corresponden a sus autores y a quienes éstas las han cedido. El único objetivo de este sitio es divulgar el conocimiento de estos pintores, grabadores, fotógrafos... a los que admiro y que otras personas disfruten contemplando sus obras. No son todas las que son, pero si son todas las que están

[alightinthelantern]

Movies on Youtube:

Brief Encounter (1945, David Lean)

Opening Night (1977, John Cassavetes)

Close Up (1990, Abbas Kiarostami)

Taste of Cherry (1997, Abbas Kiarostami)

The Song of Sparrows (2008,  Majid Majidi)

Russian Ark (2002, Alexander Sokurov)

Dreams (1990, Akira Kurosawa)

Dersu Uzala (1975, Akira Kurosawa)

The Idiot (1951, Akira Kurosawa)

Drunken Angel (1948, Akira Kurosawa)

Tokyo Story (1953, Yasujirō Ozu)

Early Summer (1951, Yasujirō Ozu)

Late Spring (1949, Yasujirō Ozu)

The Flavor of Green Tea over Rice (1952, Yasujirō Ozu)

Good Morning (1959, Yasujirō Ozu)

An Autumn Afternoon (1962, Yasujirō Ozu)

Sword for Hire (1952, Inagaki Hiroshi)

Rebecca (1940, Alfred Hitchcock)

Thunderbolt (1929, Josef von Sternberg)

Larceny (1948, George Sherman)

Among the Living (1941, Stuart Heisler)

Andrei Rublev (1966, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Mirror (1975, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Solaris (1972, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Ivan’s Childhood (1962, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972, Werner Herzog)

Fitzcarraldo (1982, Werner Herzog)

Medea (1969, Pier Paolo Pasolini)

Medea (filmed stageplay)

Is It Easy To Be Young? (1986, Juris Podnieks)

We'll Live Till Monday (1968, Stanislav Rostotsky)

Ordinary Fascism (aka Triumph Over Violence) (1965, Mikhail Romm)

Battleship Potemkin (1925, Sergei Eisenstein)

The Third Man (1949, Carol Reed)

Johnny Come Lately (1943, William K. Howard)

Mister 880 (1950, Edmund Goulding)

Beethoven’s Eroica (2003, Simon Cellan Jones)

Katyn (2007, Andrzej Wajda)

Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004, Brad Silberling)

Mean Girls (2004, Mark Waters)

The Neverending Story (1984, Wolfgang Petersen)

The NeverEnding Story II: The Next Chapter (1990, George T. Miller)

The Thief and the Cobbler (Richard Williams)

Osmosis Jones (2001, myriad directors)

Megamind (2010, Tom McGrath)

Ghost in the Shell (1995, Mamoru Oshii)

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (2004, Mamoru Oshii)

Steamboy (2004, Katsuhiro Otomo)

Badlands (1973), Terrence Malick

Wargames (1983, John Badham)

By the White Sea (2022, Aleksandr Zachinyayev)

White Moss (2014, Vladimir Tumayev)

The Theme (1979, Gleb Panfilov)

The Duchess (2008, Saul Dibb)

Bed and Sofa (1927, Abram Room)

Fate of a Man (1959, Sergei Bondarchuk)

Ballad of a Soldier (1959, Grigory Chukhray)

Uncle Vanya (1970, Andrey Konchalovskiy)

An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano (1977, Nikita Mikhalkov)

Family Relations (1981, Nikita Mikhalkov)

The Seagull (1970, Yuli Karasik)

My Tender and Affectionate Beast (1978, Emil Loteanu)

Dreams (1993, Karen Shakhnazarov & Alexander Borodyansky)

The Vanished Empire (2008, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Winter Evening in Gagra (1985, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Day of the Full Moon (1998, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Zero Town (1989, Karen Shakhnazarov)

The Girls (1961, Boris Bednyj)

The Diamond Arm (1969, Leonid Gaidai)

Operation Y and Shurik's Other Adventures (1965, Leonid Gaidai)

Ivan Vasilievich Changes Profession (1973, Leonid Gaidai)

Unbelievable Adventures of Italians in Russia (1974, Eldar Ryazanov & Franco Prosperi)

Office Romance (1977, Eldar Ryazanov)

Carnival Night (1956, Eldar Ryazanov)

Hussar Ballad (1962, Eldar Ryazanov)

Kin-dza-dza! (1986, Georgiy Daneliya)

The Most Charming and Attractive (1985, Gerald Bezhanov)

Autumn (1974, Andrei Smirnov)

War and Peace: Part 1 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 2 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 3 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 4 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)

The Red Tent (first half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)

The Red Tent (second half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)

Sherlock Holmes: The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939, Sidney Lanfield)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1939, Alfred L. Werker)

Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror (1942, John Rawlins)

Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes in Washington (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Spider Woman (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Scarlet Claw (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Pearl of Death (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The House of Fear (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Woman in Green (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Pursuit to Algiers (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Terror by Night (1946, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Dressed to Kill (1946, Roy William Neill)

If any of the links don’t work, try looking up the film in this playlist: link

[random-brushstrokes]

Daniel Sabater y Salabert (Spanish, 1888–1951) - Reading

[enjoypaitings]

Daniel Sabater y Salabert (Spanish, 1888 - 1951) - La esclava blanca, 1945

picture resolution 1050 × 1600

More by #daniel sabater y salabert enjoypaitings

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

[thefugitivesaint]

Georges Achille-Fould (1868-1951), ' Madam Satan', ''Arte y Letras'', #3, 1904 Source

[trilliwarner]

everything's fine 🍂

chris sturniolo × f!reader

warnings: fluffy, kissing, a bit sad(?)

word count: 1951

"are you going to a party tonight?" i see my mother pass by the mirror in front of me, as she is putting some of my clothes on top of the dresser.

"no, why?" i look at her strangely from the mirror, without then turning around.

"you're taking so long to get ready, longer than usual. then i thought you're going to a party" she stands beside me.

"ah, no" i say merely without specifying anything else.

"so where are you going?" she gives a small smile "are you going out with the triplets? do you have to see christopher?". my mom has had this fixation since i've known the triplets, so practically forever, and she thinks there's something going on between chris and me.

"mom" i say stretching out the 'o' of the name, embarrassed.

"what is it, honey?" she giggles, playing dumb.

"go now, i have to finish getting ready" and without another word she leaves the room.

although my mom teased me, she's right. i have to go to nick, matt, and chris's house. especially for chris, but this would probably be best kept quiet.

"okay, mom, i'm going out" i say by now downstairs. i retrieve my house keys and say goodbye to her.

"don't be too late!" she recommends before i finally leave the house and close the door behind me.

i walk down the few steps of the driveway with my head down and make my way to my friends' house.

*****

ding dong, i ring the doorbell.

opening to me is nick, wearing a chef's apron. "hi y/n, welcome!" he gives me a gentle hug and then lets me into the house.

"hello beautiful" matt greets me from the living room with a smile.

"hello matt" i throw him a flying kiss and he playfully catches it with his hand and locks it in his palm.

"chris!" yells matt "y/n has arrived!"

"coming!" we hear chris shout from another room.

"what are we planning to do tonight?" i ask not aimed at anyone in particular.

"i'm making cookies" says nick, licking a finger to clean it of the dough "we could watch a movie?" he proposes.

"that's fine with me," i reply.

"i'll pick it, though!" says matt immediately, throwing himself on the couch to grab the remote before someone else does it before him.

i don't have time to retort that i am immediately drawn in by another voice. chris. "hey" chris smiles at me as he sees me. he walks over to me and pulls me into a hug "how are you?"

"alright, chris, you?" i smile too.

"i'm fine" he replies.

"okay, okay, good" he starts to say nick "lovebirds, it's okay, break away" he continues "chris come here and help me".

before breaking away from the hug he leaves a quick kiss in my hair, then joins nick in the kitchen while i join matt in the living room.

"chosen what are we going to watch?" i sit next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. he nods his head yes.

"but tell me about it" he makes to change the subject "with chris?" he looks at me.

"with chris, what?" i take the remote control in my hand and start playing with it.

"i mean" he says "between you and chris, is there something going on?"

"mh, no" i reply vaguely "why?"

"i don't know" he shrugs "it seems so" he returns his gaze to the television and neither of us adds anything else.

*****

after a good hour of watching the movie i hear chris mumble something. "what did you say?" i turn in his direction and whisper so as not to disturb the others.

"nothing" he mumbles again.

"what did you say?" i repeat, still referring to before.

"only feel like having a pepsi" rightly.

"who would have thought it" i giggle.

"shh!" admonishes nick, turning a glare on me.

"sorry, sorry" i say in a low voice. "go get one" i turn to chris, then return my attention to the screen.

not even a second later chris gets up from the couch - his obsession with pepsi is impossible to stop, it's insatiable - only he looks a little discouraged. matt and nick look at me questioningly, and i just say "he wants a pepsi" with a shrug. the two of them shake their heads and go back to watching the movie.

i take a quick glance at both of them, and i notice that matt gives me like a nod as if he has already understood my intentions. i get up pretending that i have to go to the bathroom, so that chris won't find out right away. as i pass by the kitchen i stop and see chris with a can of pepsi in his hand who is looking at the empty space in front of him.

"why don't you go back?" i ask, but he doesn't answer me. i go next to him and wait for him to say something, but nothing. he just lets out a loud sigh. "are you sure you're okay?" i look at him.

"yeah" he nods once "i'm just sleepy, i've had very little sleep tonight" he gives a tugged smile, trying to convince me that everything is fine.

"chris..." i say softly, moving back in front of him.

"do you mind if it's just the two of us here for a while?" he asks, but without making eye contact with me "the other two are too focused on watching the movie anyway."

"sure" i say "no problem."

in truth it's not true that there's no problem, i'm worried about chris. he's aloof today. something has happened for sure.

during moments of silence i move over and sit with my legs dangling over the countertop. chris takes a sip from the can and then stands in front of me. he lays the can down beside me, spreads my legs slightly and stands between them resting his hands on the sides of my thighs.

"chris" i call his attention, at which point he looks at my face. his eyes are off. "will you tell me what's going on, please? what's wrong?" i take off the red hat on his head and put it on myself.

he snorts and shakes his head. "i don't know" he lowers his head until it rests on my chest, moving both hands to my hips, and then he lets out another sigh. "i don't know what's going on" he adds.

i slowly stroke his hair. "you're sad, chris. it's not like you to be like this" i say "there must be something wrong if you're like this. don't make me worry".

"really, i don't know" he repeats and lifts his head up returning to look at me "it's kind of like that" he continues "i'm just not in the picture, that's all".

"oh, chris" i start to say "that's it? what's going on in your damn head?"

a few seconds pass before he decides to give an answer. "i happen to think that sooner or later all this, maybe, will be gone" he says "the stuff with matt and nick, the videos and the fans, my relationship with you. all of this seems too good to be true" he explains.

i sigh, continuing to look him in the eyes. does he really think about these things? "listen to me" i say "i'm not sure things will stay the way they are now, but i'm sure we'll all do everything to make sure we don't grow apart over the years, that we don't drift apart" i continue "i get to think about it too, but, chris, i try not to let that thought wallow in me. i try to think more about what we have now and how, over time, that can only get better. and that's what you need to do too" i say, trying to calm him down.

"okay" he says "alright".

"chris" i call him again "you know that if you need me, i'm always here. i'm not going anywhere without you guys, without you" i say, marking that 'you' more.

"and now come here" i then add. i spread my arms wide and he immediately pulls me into one of his amazing hugs.

he starts to leave me a few little kisses here and there and, in between them, occasionally murmurs a "thank you."

i chuckle slightly, feeling chris' kisses on my chreks. "chris" i murmur at one point.

"hmm?" he mutters as he returns to look at me, though staying very close to my face.

we peer carefully into each other's eyes, trying to guess who will be the one to take the first step between the two. we both know that this first step will be there.

a few seconds later, he is the one who moves. he comes even closer to me and with a quick jerk he is on my lips. with a gesture he drops behind my back his hat that i had on my head until just now, while i immediately and completely let go of the kiss without even thinking about it several times. i push myself further forward so that i feel more contact with him. his hands are still on my hips, while i bring my arms behind the back of his head, touching his hair.

he passes his tongue over my lips, as if asking my permission to deepen the kiss, and i don't hesitate to give him the go-ahead. and as soon as our tongues make contact i immediately feel the taste of pepsi invade my mouth. it's pleasant. more than pleasant.

"guys, what's taking you so lon-" we both gasp at hearing matthew's voice and surprised we instantly pull away, red in the face and with swollen lips. remaining close, however.

in embarrassment i rest my head in the crook of chris's neck as he turns to his brother who is still here with us.

"oops... sorry," he says under his breath, "did i interrupt something?" he chuckles. no matt, do you think so? quiet, you didn't interrupt anything at all!

"fuck, matt!" chides him chris, holding back a smile though "go away!"

"yes, yes, i'm leaving" and then i hear the sound of matt's footsteps, not before i hear a "I knew it!".

chris turns back to me and i return my gaze to him, at which point we both burst out laughing.

"that was pretty embarrassing," i say between laughs.

"I knew it would happen sooner or later" he admits.

"the kiss or matt seeing us?" i ask, intrigued by this statement.

he pretends to think about it and then replies "both."

"oh yeah?"

"mh mh" he looks at me and nods before pulling us closer and kissing me again.

"okay, okay" i let our lips touch again but then i rest a hand on his chest and gently push him away "before someone else discovers us there."

"right" he pulls away, though reluctantly. "well then" he starts to say "i'm going back to the living room".

"yes" i nod and get off the table "i'm going to go to the bathroom for a moment and then i'll join you".

"okay" he says and then disappears toward the living room.

i remain a few moments befuddled staring at the exact spot where he disappeared, thinking about what just happened. only, without even almost noticing, i feel chris' lips settle on mine again to leave me with a quick kiss in the form of a smirk.

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author's note:

hiiiii! this is my first one so it's probably kinda bad, but whatever. plus, english is not my first language so please don't judge.

i hope you guys enjoy!!!

[mondomoderno]

A fines de mayo, tuve la oportunidad de visitar la fascinante arquitectura moderna de Santa Rosa, la capital de La Pampa, y también de conocer en vivo la obra de Santiago Swinnen. Nacido en Bélgica en 1933 y criado desde niño en Jáuregui, en 1958 desembarcó en una ciudad que contaba con unos 23000 habitantes. En ese momento, la Casa de Gobierno estaba en construcción bajo la dirección de Clorindo Testa y dentro de su equipo, se encontraba un profesor de Jaak en la UBA, quien lo recomendó para la Dirección de Arquitectura provincial. La Pampa había dejado de ser Territorio Nacional en 1951, necesitaba obras públicas y así fue cómo SS encontró su lugar en el mundo. Durante la década de 1960, Swinnen recibió encargos privados en Santa Rosa y otras localidades de La Pampa. Su primera obra en la ciudad capital fue la casa del Dr. Srur (6) en 1960 y el diseño del Barrio Calfucurá con 80 viviendas en 1967 (7). Pero la obra que marcó su carrera y el horizonte de Santa Rosa fue la remodelación de la Catedral, que ya había comenzado a construirse. Swinnen tuvo la audacia de introducir una fachada completamente moderna en un contexto religioso. Utilizó hormigón armado para crear una estructura con aires brutalistas, que destaca por su expresividad y sobriedad al mismo tiempo. Cada hexágono en el frente simboliza a uno de los apóstoles, mientras que el de la corona representa a la Virgen y el de la cruz a Jesucristo. Swinnen no sólo transformó la Catedral, sino también la arquitectura religiosa en La Pampa. Sus refacciones y ampliaciones de iglesias existentes mostraron su creatividad y sensibilidad únicas. Un claro ejemplo es la Iglesia Nuestra Señora de Fátima en SR (8,9) o la Iglesia Nuestra Señora del Rosario en Macachín. (10) A partir de 1970, Swinnen se mudó con su familia a una casa que él mismo diseñó camino a Toay, cercana a los médanos, donde siguió trabajando y desarrollando su otra pasión: la pintura. A principios de 2023, esa vivienda fue comprada por el futbolista Alexis Mac Allister y sus hermanos. Santiago Swinnen falleció en Santa Rosa en 2010, dejando un legado que perdura en toda la provincia.

Fuentes:

Tras las huellas de “Jaak”, Revista 88x96, mayo 2022. La Catedral de Santa Rosa: construir en el cielo - @lapampanoticias . Ana Pessio @anaabra abril 2022. Los hermanos Mac Allister compraron Vuriloche, la emblemática Quinta de Swinnen - @datapatagonia , febrero 2023.

[usafphantom2]

The prototype B-52s scrapped after First Lady Lady Bird Johnson’s ‘beautification’ of the US Air Force Museum

The B-52 Stratofortress

For more than 60 years, B-52 Stratofortress bombers have been the backbone of the strategic bomber force for the United States. The B-52 is capable of dropping or launching the widest array of weapons in the US inventory. This includes gravity bombs, cluster bombs, precision guided missiles and joint direct attack munitions. Updated with modern technology, the B-52 is capable of delivering the full complement of joint developed weapons and will continue into the 21st century as an important element of our nation’s defenses. The Air Force currently expects to operate B-52s through 2050.

The B-52A first flew in 1954, and the B model entered service in 1955. A total of 744 B-52s were built, with the last, a B-52H, delivered in October 1962. The first of 102 B-52H’s was delivered to Strategic Air Command in May 1961.

The prototype B-52s scrapped after First Lady Lady Bird Johnson’s ‘beautification’ of the US Air Force Museum: The story of the XB-52 and YB-52

The winning design

As explained by Scott Lowther in his book Boeing B-47 Stratojet & B-52 Stratofortress Origins and Evolution, the winning design for the XB-52, Model 464-49, transitioned to Model 464-67. While largely the same, there were some notable differences, most obviously the extension of the forward fuselage. Where 464-49 had the rear of the cockpit canopy behind the leading edge of the wing roots, 464-67 put the cockpit well ahead of the wing. The relatively vast expanse of spoilers on the wings were scaled down and the engine nacelles were reshaped. With those changes and an Air Force ‘letter of intent’ for B-52 tooling in March 1951, Boeing was ready to begin constructing two Model 464-67s.

The prototype B-52s

These prototype B-52s were given the designations XB-52 and YB-52… X for ‘experimental’ and Y being the designation for ‘prototype.’ Typically an `experimental’ aircraft is built before a ‘prototype’, but in this case while the XB-52 (serial number 49- 230) rolled out on Nov. 29, 1951, and the YB-52 (serial number 49-231) followed on Mar. 15, 1952, the YB-52 flew first on Apr. 15, 1952. This was due to the XB-52 suffering damage during pneumatic system pressurization testing which required extensive repairs.

The prototype B-52s scrapped after First Lady Lady Bird Johnson’s ‘beautification’ of the US Air Force Museum: The story of the XB-52 and YB-52

The XB-52 followed the prototype into the air on Oct. 2, 1952. The first flight of the YB-52 lasted two hours and was powered by prototype YJ57-P-3 engines. Despite the difference in designations, the XB-52 and the YB-52 were essentially identical.

The prototype B-52s were largely similar to the production aircraft in appearance. An immediately distinguishing feature of both aircraft, though, was the cockpit. A tandem fighter-style canopy somewhat similar to that used on the B-47 was employed; it was low-drag and gave the pilot excellent visibility.

Pioneering the landing gear layout

The prototypes pioneered the landing gear layout that the rest of the B-52 fleet would employ. Somewhat similar at first glance to the bicycle arrangement used by the B-47, the gear used by the B-52 was quite different. Four separate dual-wheel bogies were stored within the B-52 fuselage, but instead of deploying straight down they deployed out to the sides, twisting around so that the bogies stored fore-and-aft ended up side-by-side. This gave the B-52 not a bicycle arrangement, but a quadricycle. The B-52 would comfortably sit level on its main landing gear and not tip to one side or the other. It still employed smaller outrigger gear near the wingtips, but this was to keep the wingtips from striking the ground during heavily laden takeoffs or bumpy landings.

‘Crabbing’ into the wind

Additionally, the forward bogies could rotate up to 20° side to side, allowing the B-52 to do something unique: land while ‘crabbing’ into the wind, the fuselage of the aircraft pointed well off the axis of the groundpath of the flight. This would permit safe landings in high winds.

The prototype B-52s scrapped after First Lady Lady Bird Johnson’s ‘beautification’ of the US Air Force Museum: The story of the XB-52 and YB-52

The prototypes had flapperons, ailerons and spoilers on the main wings. The ailerons were relatively small and located far from the wingtip; in fact, just outboard of the inboard engine pylon. A wingtip location for the ailerons would have given them more authority, but that would have put them in a much thinner section of the wing, a section much given to flexing. The inboard location was sufficient for the manoeuvring that the bomber was expected to perform.

Folding vertical fin

In any event, the spoilers were to take care of the bulk of the control needs of the aircraft, and the ailerons would eventually find themselves redundant. Unlike the production aircraft that followed, the prototypes did not have the capability for inflight refuelling. Neither did they, initially, have the external fuel tanks that generally graced the outer wings of production model B-52s, but such tanks were eventually added later in the testing phase.

B-52H print

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. B-52H Stratofortress 2nd BW, 20th BS, LA/60-0008 “Lucky Lady IV”.

The horizontal stabilizers were all-moving, but this was meant for trim stabilization. Actual control was via slim elevators along the trailing edge. The elevators had, through the B-52F, trim tabs. An important but rarely noted feature not only of the prototype B-52s but of all B-52s that followed was the folding vertical fin. The fin was, at least until the G-model, a vast structure; too tall by far to allow the B-52 to fit within standard hangars. So it could fold over 90-degrees, greatly reducing the effective height of the aircraft. Unlike naval aircraft with wings that fold to fit in the limited space on board aircraft carriers, the fielding fin is not a self-contained system — an external crane is needed to lay it over and raise it back up again.

Prototype B-52s were hand-made

The prototypes were essentially hand-made at the Boeing Seattle factory. Production methods were not used as the jigs were not finalized; the equipment and instruments employed were also often not what would become standard. Neither prototype was fitted with defensive weapons; the tail turrets were represented by static fairings, with the painted-on lines.

The YB-52 was donated to the US Air Force Museum on Jan. 27, 1958, having flown for 783 hours. It was on display for a time but due to a ‘beautification’ scheme orchestrated by First Lady Lady Bird Johnson, both the XB-52 and YB-52 were scrapped sometime in the 1960s. Exactly how the official museum of the United States Air Force was ‘beautified’ by converting one of the most beautiful aircraft ever built into razor blades and soda cans is not adequately explained in the available literature.

Boeing B-47 Stratojet & B-52 Stratofortress Origins and Evolution is published by Mortons Books and is available to order here.

Photo credit: U.S. Air Force

B-52 Model

This model is available from AirModels – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS.

Dario Leone

Dario Leone is an aviation, defense and military writer. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviation Geek Club” one of the world’s most read military aviation blogs. His writing has appeared in The National Interest and other news media. He has reported from Europe and flown Super Puma and Cougar helicopters with the Swiss Air Force.

@kadonkey via X

[weirdlookindog]

The Strange Case of the Man and the Beast aka El extraño caso del hombre y la bestia (1951)

[bones4thecats]

If it's okay can I please ask for (romantic) Beelzebub Loki Poseidon and Apollo with kianna but how would they react to her being named Miss Alice because she Survived The Madness of Wonderland and the rest is up to you

So this is an aesthetic / mood board that a friend here on Tumblr made for me for my oc kianna

A/N: I used 2010’s Alice in Wonderland as a reference for this because it just made more sense since it was far more dangerous than Disney’s 1951 classic. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!!

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🪰 He knew something was off when he first heard someone call you Alice instead of Y/N, but it set his brain really off when a white rabbit ran up to you and called you Alice

🪰 Why was a white rabbit here and speaking to you?

🪰 When the rabbit, whom you called Nivens McTwisp, looked at him and asked who this was, you just smiled and introduced him

🪰 It really made his eyes widen when a man with red hair bust out of a random hole and hugged you

“ My, my Miss Alice, you have gotten far more mature than the last time we met one another! “

🪰 Okay, wtf-

🪰 Beelzebub wanted an explanation immediately, and when he got it all from not just you, but the two visitors, he just sighed and nodded his head

🪰 He understood why you didn’t tell him, it could be quite traumatizing to go through what they said happened in that land called Wonderland

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🐍 Loki was just screwing around when a hole appeared below his and your floating forms

🐍 He held you behind him as a man crawled out, yelling the same thing over and over again

“ Are you sure Miss Alice is here? It seems so much more clean than her last home. “ “ That’s because when she came here the last time she was stuck in the woods! “ “ Will you two shut up?! “

🐍 Cue the eyebrow lifting while you chuckled at their antics

“ Miss Alice! “ “ Tarrant! “

🐍 Loki watched as you grabbed the three men and hugged them tightly, asking how Wonderland was

🐍 Okay, now he was questions

🐍 What was Wonderland? Why is there a talking rabbit? Who is this Tarrant and why is he touching you?!

🐍 You smiled and watched as Loki wrapped his arms around you protectively

🐍 Tarrant, Nivens, and Thackery smiled as the man wrapped his arms around you, being reminded on how much others could care for you, themselves included

🐍 Did he want to go to Wonderland? Yes. No doubt.

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🔱 Poseidon starred as you hugged a large cat with a hat on

🔱 He was glaring at the animal when it hung off your shoulders, thankfully you could handle the weight of the larger feline

🔱 When the cat went invisible, he readied his trident, believing it was planning to attack

🔱 But when you just had him lower his weapon while letting out a deep sigh and calling out to this ‘Chessur’

🔱 Poseidon watched as you pet him on the head and handed the hat to a man that hung upside down from the tree above you

“ Hello there, Miss Alice, how is life treating you up here? “ “ Quite well, actually! This is my husband, Poseidon! “ “ Ooh! You’re a lucky man, Poseidon! Miss Alice here has survived Wonderland! Not many can say that~ “

🔱 Your husband looked at you as the man whom you called Tarrant grabbed his hat and adjusted it onto his head

🔱 Did he wonder what this Wonderland was? Yes. But did he really care to find out? No.

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☀️ Apollo did not expect this

☀️ A hole appeared and a woman all white with a rabbit and cat had crawled out, speaking about seeing their ‘Miss Alice’ once again

☀️ He didn’t know about you past all to well, but he did understand you went through a lot of trauma, including murder and other stuff

☀️ You didn’t like falling from heights because of something, now he understood you must have fallen down that hole the trio came out of

“ Miss Alice, it is so nice to see you after so long. Oh! Who is this? “ “ Apollo, God of the Sun. Pleasure! “ “ A God! How impressive! “

☀️ You shook your head while smiling as Apollo pet Chessur’s head and Nivens asked him questions

☀️ Apollo had asked them questions on Wonderland, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to punish that Red Queen his own way

☀️ You had to hold him back from releasing the largest ray of sunlight into Wonderland

[afranciscomiradiezblr-blog]

¿La Web de Surrealismo? Paul Struck (1928-2015)

Paul Struck nació en Kassel. En 1947 asistió al Abitur Humanistic Gymnasium en Wiesbaden y en 1951 estudió en la academia de arte de Kassel. Más tarde se formó como escenógrafo y diseñador de vestuario en el Hessian State Theatre de Wiesbaden

Nota: La propiedad intelectual de las imágenes ... ( todo) que aparecen en este blog corresponden a sus autores y a quienes éstas las han cedido. El único objetivo de este sitio es divulgar el conocimiento de estos pintores, grabadores, fotógrafos... a los que admiro y que otras personas disfruten contemplando sus obras. No son todas las que son, pero si son todas las que están.