#Hollywood Rock 1994

[hh0320]

໑ — stars in the ceiling. pt I

pair. solo singer! felix x fem! reader (+ mentions of hyunjin)

genre. set in the 90’s, childhood friends to strangers, moving back, struggle with fame, angst, romance, smut.

warnings. profanity, smoking, alcohol/drug abuse, use of pet names, flawed characters, harsh language at times, dark themes, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, mental health issues.

word count. 6.2k

a/n. hi my loves! this is going to be a mini series, though i’m still not sure how many parts it will contain. nevertheless, pls treat this idea kindly, and don’t judge its characters too hard, they’ve gone through a lot. feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated and will be replied to! enjoy xx

‘Felix will be going back to Australia for a much needed break, sources close to him reveal. The twenty-three year old alt rock singer just concluded his second world tour, Doll, earlier this week in Los Angeles, with news of his breakup with supermodel Hwang Hyunjin coming out at the same time.

The two had been dating since the Aussie’s rise to fame in 1994.’

New South Wales had remained the same, despite the unshakeable change in Felix’s chest. Barina Road had the same houses standing, fifty-year-old trees stretching, widening into the sky, hiding his parent’s garage from view, the stairs leading up to the front door. He’d paid off the mortgage, bought them a new car.

The sun was beaming, February in full display. His manager greeted his mom, and introduced his assistant, explaining they would be staying at a hotel not too far from there. His father had a beard now, his sister looked taller, and wore glasses.

Your house was around the corner. He could see the rose bushes along the hill, the white shutters with the black outlines. Felix could close his eyes and go back to your room, 1992, the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, The Cure and The Smiths’ posters on pastel pink walls, lace trimming on your sheets, makeshift forts and flashlights at midnight, notebooks with hearts drawn on folded ends, his name and yours written next to each other, hand over hand. ‘Girl Afraid’ playing softly through a cassette in a beat down radio. Your dad’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, and the determination that rushed through Felix’s veins the moment he tasted them, the promise he’d made to himself to make those same cookies for you one day, to learn how.

He never did. His demo got picked up from a record label that would later refer him to the one he belongs to now, and he had to fly out to Melbourne right before your eighteenth birthday. From then on it’s been a shooting star.

He blinks to find his mother teary eyed, arms open. He doesn’t walk—he runs. Washed out silvery blonde locks long enough to be pulled in a ponytail, brown eyes the color of wild thyme honey, hands tired, heart broken. A boy coming home is a very old story, one that will never stop being written. And even though it feels strange to be back after five years of palm trees, everything and nothing—Hollywood, with its golden gates and trophies and nightmare people— it is exactly what he needed. It’s where he has to be.

“You look so tired, baby, so frail,” his mom sobs, pressing her mouth on his temple. “Did no one take care of you? Did no one care?”

Felix didn’t answer. He brought chocolates and clothes for his sisters, jewelry for his mother, Cuban cigars for his father, and his first ever Grammy for you, because none of this would’ve been possible if you hadn’t befriended him all those years ago in the playground. If your voice hadn’t guided him away from those swings and into the forest. If he hadn’t played hide and seek with the girl that wore ribbons in her hair, dark cherries for eyes. And what does he say knowing this?

I left behind the one person that did. That mattered that it did. And when I found something similar, I couldn’t hold it in my hands, I couldn’t get close to it no matter how much I tried.

“I missed you, mom,” he mumbles instead, and grinds his teeth to keep from crying. “I should’ve called more. I should’ve visited.”

The shorter woman sniffles and rubs her son’s back soothingly, shushing him only a mother knows how to. He breathes in her familiar scent, her cooking imprinted on her purple shirt, and smiles sadly. Hyunjin would’ve loved her; he wanted to meet her the most, wanted to hear all the stories when they were in bed together, what few times they were both sober, capable of adventure and conversation till the early hours of the next day. “I never had a mom,” he’d tell him, brown strands of hair escaping his staple bun. “Cherish your mom for me, Yongbokie. Love her terribly.”

“Come inside,” she tells him, waving away the rest. “Stay forever if you need to.”

“It means happiness,” he’d explained on that first meeting with the boy shining more brightly than the chandelier lighting the entire theater. “Yongbok.”

The boy had smiled and it’d made all the difference. His lips reminded Felix of black cherries, of the girl in the room with the window overlooking the trees. “I know what it means. It’s about time I met you.”

Time away from chaos felt empty. The hours passed by slowly, serenity made him paranoid, like it couldn’t possibly last, even there, in a different continent, across the globe. Getting on an airplane didn’t guarantee you’d get away, he realized soon enough. It wasn’t possible, because you can’t outrun yourself.

And it was that Felix was trying to escape. How known he’d become, how aware of his own shadow he was. At first, he’d thought of it as a mountain to climb, something to be achieved, and then something else. It was a ladder leading up, up, up and nowhere specific, but he climbed it anyway. The little prize in his hands was the ultimate show, that one last thing he had to do that would grant him access to more of the same everything and nothing everyone else seemed to be so desperately after. After he’d won it, the decision to leave it all behind became clearer than ever.

A lot of the people he admired had died. And it didn’t matter which way you looked, destruction came in the form of white powder, accompanied by a spoon or a syringe if you were brave enough and had much to lose. “Take your pick, there’s many ways to kill yourself,” a girl had told him once at an afterparty. Young and impressionable as he was he chose by what he saw and picked up the bottle of champagne in front of him. The least harmful, he’d thought. But the sneakiest one of all. And then he saw Hyunjin smoking cigarettes after one of his fashion shows, and thought to try that too. Then it felt like something they could share, so Felix kept smoking until the cough subsided and his fingers smelled of tobacco. 

One thing the model never tried to do was shield him from the horrible ways of the industry, and the blonde still can’t find it in himself to castrate him for it. Now, so many thousands of miles away as he was, the habits seemed to follow, like supportive friends. The world is a fucked up place, but it doesn’t seem so bad from where he sits on the rooftop of his childhood house. He could drop the stick from his hand, or break the golden trophy and even deny the existence of evil altogether.

How easy, how vulnerable fame is. You could be no one in particular if you made all the right choices. Felix wasn’t sure why he seemed to do the opposite, walk the other way, the reason for his selective blindness. When something shiny has your name on it you hold it close to your chest and sing to it. It’s precious because it reflects light off it.

Until when?

Your light was on. 

He looked for it, looked for a car coming up the hill, watched the sun set, the blending of colors, how majestic it can all get before it fades to black, but you showed up right in the blue of it. You still drove the same Jeep your dad had gifted you for graduation, but your hair was longer, you’d grown a bit. Felix saw how your white dress danced in the summer breeze, ran his eyes down your tanned legs as you walked from your driveway inside your house, and finally, about ten minutes after that, the light through your curtains.

His mother hadn’t mentioned he was back.

He smiles down at his burning cigarette. How would he ever face you with the way he left? He never called, only wrote to you on your birthday, and released a song about a starry girl that visited his dreams, knowing very well that girl waited for him for years to return, even if just for a little while. The guilt of never doing so, and instead loving someone else so all consumingly, while that same song went on to become his best selling single, the song he’d be known for for years to come? It crippled him.

He never wanted to see your face stare back at him. He would rather die, and he admits this to himself bravely. You were his first girl, his only girl. No one would ever come close to you, because you’re clean—you have his innocence, his first time, before he knew anything about anything, and how despite it, he loved you stupidly, earnestly, because it made sense, because it felt right.

“Starry girl, will you burn bright, for me tonight? Oh, will you stay a little while, darling girl…”

How hypocritical. If Chan was around he’d be calling him out, or pushing him down the fucking roof. Felix wouldn’t even mention the broken leg or the dislocated shoulder, because it’d serve him right. Perhaps he needs a solid reminder of his aliveness, of how doing wrong by someone and paying for it feels like. La La Land doesn’t have that, it couldn’t possibly understand that. There, people look up and never down. There, they would push, and keep pushing; they would climb over, step on your neck, tear you apart at the seams for a chance to just keep.looking.up. That climb is all there is.

It’s empty too, but you learn how to miss it.

Felix thinks he might’ve sold his fucking soul, somehow, because as he gets back in the house, his mind won’t stop screaming for him to run away from there as well.

Not a place that could hold someone that’s had everything and then more of it.

Chan hates his guts twice as much as you possibly ever could, but Felix calls him anyway.

“Hello?”

“Chris. It’s me.”

A long pause. The singer falters, thinks he’s made a mistake, curses himself for ever thinking anyone would want anything to do with him after—

“You’re a fucking cunt, Felix, and I hope you burn in Hell. Sincerely.” The blonde nods, his chest tight, his throat dry. “How are you?”

He smiles. “Terrible. Fucking awful, mate, thanks for asking.”

“Good.”

“I’m in Australia.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Your white dress flows in his dreams. It folds and stretches like the wings of a butterfly. The pages of his journal stare at him, his eyes heavy with sleep, but for once nothing pours out. He thinks he’s meant to keep that to himself, and perhaps that’s okay.

Instead he writes about a broken boy that smiles for the cameras but never for his love.

His older sister works as an intern for a law firm. He didn’t know that, because he never asked. The sting of it burns all the same.

She has a fiance, is preparing to buy a house, and tells him of his mom’s sickness at a private restaurant. He didn’t know that either, but in all fairness, as his sister pointed out, no one is supposed to know. At least not yet. It’s treatable, she quickly adds, but it’s been eating her from the inside out for a couple years now. She tells him this with a straight face, probably because she’s had time to sit with it, but also because Rachel is great at keeping her feelings in check, when she knows someone else isn’t—Felix definitely fucking isn’t.

What was the saying? The artist is haunted by his own heart? Day and night. There’s never an escape, it seems, from anything.

“Tell me what I need to do,” he pleads after he calms down. “Money is not a problem.”

The older sibling grimaces at that. “It’s not about that, Lix. She has medication, she never misses a doctor’s appointment. Her body is weak.”

“She’s not dying.”

“It’s not something we can exactly stop because we want to.”

Felix clenches his fists on the table, and looks at his sister straight on. “She’s not dying.”

Rachel wipes her mouth and sips from her wine, alerting the waiter for the check. People are starting to stare. No matter where they go, eyes follow her little brother incessantly, whichever measures they take. It’s a lifestyle she cannot comprehend.

Felix doesn’t seem to notice, or care. It’s a strange thing, like a zoo animal being at peace with its captivity, despite its true nature.

“Maybe not now,” she replies softly. “But we all must face this one impending doom sooner or later, Lix. Even you. Even our mom. Death is a natural thing.”

Most people run from the inevitable, because it’s scary. Somehow, it’s believed that the end, too, could be overturned if we stall it, or cheat it. Felix never thought he’d have to worry about it, because of the invisibility of youth, and money, and having everything else at his beck and call. It was only when Kurt Cobain and Jeff Buckley died that he was touched by the cruelty of it, the dark shadows and the claws attacking through them any moving thing, at any given time. Even legends passed, even history.

It was because life was so impossibly fleeting, water held with two hands, that he decided to knock on your door. In a single moment of liquid luck, he wished to see the stars in your ceiling again. To feel the warmth of your skin near his. Chan would shake his head and call him an idiot for it, but Felix never claimed to be reasonable. Or smart.

No other car was in your driveway.

God, his blood is rushing. You’d open the door and then what? What would he say?

He didn’t want his mom to die. He didn’t want you to hate him forever. He came back with a false sense of ego—no one gave a flying fuck if he was famous, or best friends with Hope Sandoval and Chris Cornell, hell, even Jesus Christ himself. None of it mattered outside of the bubble he’d created for himself in America. He’s not from there. These people would follow him nowhere.

He feels stranded and alone, and it’s entitled and pathetic, and he’s fucking terrified.

Who is he besides his name and his money? Why does it matter so much?

The door opens. He’s holding his breath.

You gape. Then blink.

Another moment passes. He has to say something. Goddamnit, anything!

“(Y/N).”

You seem to snap out of it, then. As if you realize it’s, indeed, not a dream. Felix is really standing right in front of you, blonde hair, round honey eyes, constellations on his cheeks as prominent as ever.

It’s confusion you feel more than anything else. Anger has long passed.

“How long have you been here?” is the first thing you ask him, and you’re still not allowing him inside.

He doesn’t expect you to.

“On your doorstep? An hour.”

You blink again, and lean forward, surprised. He thinks that must not be what you asked him. His ears burn. Your chest rises and falls deeply.

“In Australia, Lix,” you elaborate, but he focuses on the way your voice sounds like saying his childhood nickname, a silly little thing that stuck and makes him feel eight all over again.

You’d fallen in the rose bushes with your bike, the thorns pricking your arms, and you’d called out for him, crying. Lix, Lix, Lix… The sweetest sound, a person worthy to help you. A different time. He’d spent the rest of his afternoon picking thorns out of your skin and tending to your cuts with his mom. Afterwards, you watched Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and ate a bowl full of caramel popcorn. His dad dropped you off, and Felix had insisted on sticking his head out of his bedroom window to shout a final goodnight to you.

You’d done the same, laughing. His bestest friend in the whole world.

He didn’t feel like that person anymore. He didn’t feel like anything anymore. Just a name, just a body.

“Fourteen days,” he replies, and he’s ashamed of it, because it should’ve been easier to come to you. It should’ve never been difficult, not with you. 

It was you, for fuck’s sake.

And then you ask him the one thing he has no answer to.

“Are you okay?”

You move for him to enter. It’s what he wanted, but his legs have no strength in them, he’s unable to lift them. He just stands in front of you, staring in those eyes he’s wanted to look into for so long, and it reminds him of all the times he laid in hotel beds trying to bring forward his memories of your features, writing them all down so he doesn’t forget. He wrote those songs to remember you, is what he wants to tell you, but he can’t, because it’d make him a coward, and he doesn’t think he can handle anymore truths tonight.

They call him an angel because of his face, but you’re the angelic one, you’ve always been, because there’s forgiveness in your tone. There’s warmth for him in you still, and it takes everything in him not to sweep you in his arms and cry out for you, for your heart.

He wants to tell you about Hyunjin, too, about his garden and his flowers. He wants to tell you he named one after you, the most beautiful. He kept that for himself as well.

Instead—

“I wanted to watch the stars on your ceiling.”

The possibility that you might’ve taken them down is devastating. He hopes inevitably.

His voice sounds rough, and the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. You’ve never seen Felix like that, he looked so sickly. Paper thin, too. You wonder if that life over there caught up to him, if he allowed it to wash over everything you loved about him. He’s such a stripped down, quiet version of him right now, in front of you.

“I’ll make some milkshakes,” you nod towards the kitchen.

He finally lifts one leg, then the other. He enters, his heart dusting off, kickstarting.

They still taste the same. The furniture is the same, the pictures of him and you and your siblings are still on the wall. You haven’t erased him, you didn’t scorn him. It means everything to him.

It’s easier to find yourself if someone already knows who you are. If they’ve kept that image of you, and look at it from time to time. Felix never sees himself in photos, never actively seeks himself out. He just gives, and gives, and gives, hoping it’s enough, hoping that’s it, the one, we got it, thank you very much.

Perhaps it’s why he feels so drained nowadays. Perhaps that’s how Hyunjin felt.

“How are your parents?” he asks, hoping to make conversation, hoping to hear more of that voice he’s missed so fucking much.

You round the kitchen island, strawberry shake in hand, and sit right next to him, knee brushing his. Your legs are bare again, smooth. You’re wearing an olive green skirt and an oversized T-shirt. You look beautiful. You, the starry girl. You, the darling girl. You, the only version of girl he’s had in his mind since the dawn of time. Ring pop in the fifth grade, backyard wedding with a veil and all. His mother had cried, yours had baked the cake. His sister had married you.

There’s a question in your eyes now.

“They’re fine. Out celebrating their thirtieth anniversary or something crazy like that.”

It’s a wild thing, the laugh that escapes him. It stretches his face and curves his lips. It surprises both of you. He quickly looks at his chocolate milkshake, at the half eaten whipped cream at the top. He hears your soft exhale, the straw between your teeth.

“Good for them,” he says after a beat, and he means it.

“You…” Felix doesn’t dare look. He won’t. Your counter is marble, there are fresh lilies on top of it. “Are you staying a while?”

He nods. Struggles to swallow.

Then you sigh. The pretenses are down. He stiffens, wraps his fingers tighter around the glass. He braces, but he doesn’t know for what. Anything, he supposes. You could say anything, ask anything.

He just doesn’t know if he has any answers for you.

“Congrats on that Grammy,” you bump him with your elbow, your tone light. His eyes rise slightly to meet yours. You’re smiling.

He wants nothing more than to fall apart, right there. He doesn’t deserve any of it.

“It’s yours,” he mutters. “I was going to give it to you.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “It’s your song, Lix.”

He shakes his head once. “But it’s for you. I’d be nothing without you.”

The room goes silent. Felix thinks he’s done it, he’s said the wrong thing, pushed too much, you’re going to kick him out, once and for all, and he’s going to have to look at you from his rooftop for the rest of his stay, he’s going to have to live with himself, whatever’s left, whatever’s there, never to hear your voice, never a third chance—

“Do you usually say intense things like that?” You huff out a breath, and his own gets stuck in his throat. “I’m— No one’s ever said that to me before, Lix. Don’t just say stuff like that.”

Suddenly, six years have passed, and you’re both adults. Felix has had a whole other life, has met thousands and thousands of people, is a celebrity of great importance, a Grammy winner, a million seller, with more money than he will ever need, this unbelievable thing has happened to him, a dream, a fucking rainbow bubble, and you’ve stayed here.

You’re still the same. And you don’t think that’s worth mentioning. Worth praising. He wants to shake you awake, make you see why he’s dead inside, why he’s come back, why he’s lost his fucking mind.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replies, his gaze meeting yours. “If I’d never met you, I would have never gone to America. I would’ve never left.”

Somehow, you’ve become a curse and a miracle. 

“Let’s go see the stars, Felix.”

Your room is the exact same, too. Not a single damn thing moved, the lace on your bed, the pink all around, the fairy lights by your window, the pictures above your desk, and then finally, if he lifts his head—

The hundreds of tiny stars sprinkled on your entire ceiling. Your dad had stuck them up there for you, after you’d gone to their bed crying, afraid of the dark and the storm outside. Now, with the lights off, you didn’t seem afraid anymore, but more so melancholic. It felt unreal to stand in this room with you. 

First time he’d made love to you was on that bed. First sleepover, first fort, first kiss, first song ever written.

He didn’t even realize he’d been crying, not until he felt your fingers wipe the wetness away, your hand slipping in his, pulling him towards the mattress. Before coming back, he didn’t have a bed of his own. Hotel’s have been temporary homes for him, the tour bus his sleepovers.

His chest hurt, his sadness so heavy it pulled him down. There was no fight left in him, no other reason not to fall on that bed with you, lay next to you just like all those years before.

They shone neon green, alien little stars where they didn’t belong. Like him. He blinked up at them and they greeted him every time. He held your hand tightly on his own, his vision blurry, shoulders touching yours. If it was hot, Felix couldn’t tell. His heartbeat was deafening, the magnitude of the moment swallowing him whole.

No matter what he did, what had happened, you took his hand and showed him the stars of his childhood. There’s no words to describe what that had felt like for someone like him, someone that had once been something entirely different, and had somehow reduced himself down to this, whatever it was.

Three versions of oneself is two versions too many. He hates himself for what he’s done.

“Are you okay, Lix?” you ask once more, nothing but a mere whisper, but he hears you.

He thinks he might even have an answer for you.

“I don’t think so, beautiful girl. I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

Felix sighs, puts an arm over his eyes. It’s enough, what he saw. It’s enough for a lifetime.

“Leaving you behind. Giving all of me away. Falling in love with a broken boy thinking I’ll be able to fix him. I can’t fix anyone, (Y/N). I can’t even fix my fucking self.”

You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. The connection is still there, the tension in his gut. He’d love nothing more than to get you naked and have you whisper his name back, over and over, until he gets some sort of sense of reality back. But it wouldn’t be fair to you. He doesn’t even know if you’re single.

“No one’s holding anything over your head, Lix. Forgive yourself before it’s too late,” you mumble against his skin, raising goosebumps all over. Then you continue, “I’d be lying if I said I don’t still hate you sometimes. You’re going to leave again, anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

He turns to that immediately. Places a palm over your cheek and makes you look at him.

“It does matter. I don’t want you to hate me. I fucked up and I’ll regret it my whole life. There’s no amount of sorry’s I can say to you, sweet girl, that’ll make it all better. I know that. But I don’t want you to hate me.”

Quiet. Your pulse against his thigh. “You left.”

“I did.”

“That hurt me. All of us.”

Felix nodded, again and again. One truth harsher than the other. “I know.”

“To go fuck some model in New York and sing your little heart out to people that’ll never know who you truly are and how much you matter.”

There it was. The sacrifice of it all. Has it been worth it? Yes and no. Mostly no.

His lips curved with bitterness. “Yes,” he rasped.

“But now your songs are out there. Your beautiful voice is recognized.”

“Thank you.”

You buried your face in the mattress, crying onto strawberry sheets. He turned his body towards you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“You sold your own name.”

Dying would be less painful than you speaking all of his fears and wrong decisions outloud, in the one place untouched by misery.

“And I pay for that every day.”

“You’re not happy.”

He smiles when you search for his eyes. There are crystals on your cheeks, the cosmos hanging from your lips. “Not particularly, starry girl,” he retorts sadly.

“I’m not happy, either. What’s the point, then?”

It tore at him to know this. He imagined you were when he was far away. That you’d put him behind you, and continued on with your life, shining just as brightly as you always had. Lies are always easier in the moment. Just enough to get you through to the next. But never long term.

“Come with me,” he whispers in your hair. “See for yourself.”

“And get lost, too?” you snap back.

He shut his eyes tight, bit his tongue to lessen the blow. “Three months. I want to take you with me.”

“To the City of Angels.” A lyric of his, coming from your mouth. His heart leaped, and blossomed. You listen to his music. The music he’s written for you.

“You’ll fit right in,” he finishes, leaning into you. “You’ll find many like you, none like you.”

He felt your hesitancy, the need to pull away. He would do it for you, if he wasn’t so completely under your spell, willing to do anything for one more taste of you. Years in a place where he’s had to learn to get his way, have made him somewhat persuasive, a trait he’s not proud of, like many others.

The only girl he’s ever truly wanted is you. Burn him alive, then.

“God, I’m about to make a mistake,” you mutter before his mouth takes yours.

Hyunjin had asked about you. He wanted to know who you were, why you still had such a hold on him. Hyunjin had been possessive and jealous and sensitive with Felix. He felt deeply, loved deeply, and was very stubborn. He loved getting his way. The blonde tried to love him, gave him all he had, obliged to his every request, but ultimately—

Whatever was wrong with him ran too deep. It was impossible to love someone like him, yet so easy to fall, so easy to lose yourself. They’d done some work together, traveled to Paris and visited art museums. Hyunjin was a magnificent artist, a lonely soul. Felix could recognize that in him and still admit it was scary to be around him, scary in the way a rope feels under your bare feet, no ground underneath, no sense of security.

They broke up on a bench outside Sacré-Cœur, the decision to go back to Australia for an indefinite amount of time being too much for the model. There was still love there, there’d always be. Hyunjin taught him about the life he’d entered, how to navigate through it, to get what you want, and how to love unconditionally, how to become a slave for love, to seek it and to breathe it, and to feel it deep in your gut, with everything in you.

But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t be all encompassing, choking, tying. It should feel like freedom, and this much Felix knew, because he’d felt it before.

Undressing you right now felt like that, the pearly gates welcoming him, the wings growing in his back. A map outlined but not quite yet explored, though he plans to change that. If you accept. If you agree to his proposal. His hands caress, his mouth following the fabric leaving your body, your breast, down to your stomach, your navel, your hip bone. 

He pulls your skirt down, revealing cotton, and lays you gently back down, his own body over yours, hiding you from view. Your fingers unzip and push, and Felix removes his shirt for you. He knows he’s not much to look at, but there’s lean muscle and a solid chest where you touch, making heat bloom right under your fingertips. He could write odes about how soft your skin is, how tender you’re treating him, as if he never left, as if he’s never done wrong by you, and for a minute he pretends.

Then your hand wraps around his cock and he loses all restrain.

“You can’t possibly be real, my girl, are you?” he mumbles against your cunt, before he hooks his arms underneath your legs and digs right into your wetness.

You moan and writhe, and he never complies. He holds you tighter, keeps you in place and has his way with you until you’re begging him to stop, crying for him to keep going, nails digging into his scalp, his shoulders, anywhere you can reach. Felix hasn’t eaten pussy in six months, hasn’t had yours in over five years, and he’s not about to give it up for anything in the fucking world. 

His tongue laps, it fucks you slowly, it makes sure to get you proper wet for him, his lips slurping on your clit afterwards, finding a pattern you seem to enjoy, sucking to bring your orgasm forward and licking to settle you down, to tease you, until finally you have enough of it, and you come all over his mouth, breathlessly, your thighs trapping his head between your legs.

“Just for me, for me, for me…” he repeats peppering kisses all over you, his arms pushing him up towards your mouth, meeting you halfway for an open mouthed kiss. “Will you come?” he asks, pumping his cock in his fist, aligning it with your entrance. “My sweet fucking girl, will you come?”

“I have,” you say, hiding your face in embarrassment. “I did.”

“Let me look at you,” as he pushes in. “Let me see you, baby.”

His hips start moving, his cock reaching deep inside you, the stretch incredible. He needs you near, closer, so he lifts you up and repositions himself, having you sit on him, fucking yourself on him how you like. You find a rhythm as he wraps himself around you, kissing your breast, sucking on your nipples, tugging at the ends of your hair. Anything he can touch, all for you. Your voice breaks, his name cut in half, and he thinks he likes it best like that, not one thing but two, muttered by you, the death of him once and for all.

“Will you come with me to California?” he asks again, clearer this time. “Will you let me have you like this under their sun?”

“Lix…” you collapse as he takes charge, pistoling up into your soaking cunt, his cock so deep inside, so fucking good. “Fuck, please. Just please.”

“You need to tell me,” he groans. “I need to know. You need to tell me.”

He pushes you forward again, not once unsticking you from himself, and fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast. He’s after your high, he needs to see you, needs to witness you fall apart because of him, the same way he does for you, his muse, his girl, under your stars. You kiss him and hold him near, sharing his breath, his chest rapidly falling and rising, cock ready to burst, heart ready to explode, and you’re near too, he can feel it in his gut, he can see how your back arches, how your breath hitches, how your eyes open wide, head thrown back—

“That’s it, there it is, do it. Do it, beautiful, come for me, come on, let me feel you, God, fuck—I’ll bust, too, I’ll—”

“Inside,” you moan, shaking in his arms. “Inside me.”

Felix growls and does as you say, fingers digging into your waist, cock buried, and his head falls on your stomach. He’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack, but nothing matters. You’re underneath him, naked. You still love him. You haven’t said it but you don’t have to; he can feel it, he can feel it like his own pulse.

He fucks you through the ripples of your orgasm, and then he pulls out, kissing your temple, your breast on his chest. Whatever dreams are made out of, he’s convinced you’re it. His dream, a girl just for him, a girl he could pick out blindfolded from a crowd of thousands. He would always come back to you, because there’s simply no beginning to him if you’re not part of it.

And no end if you don’t come with him.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me no,” he whispers into the dark, the stars staring back. “I’ll understand. I’ll make it work, there’s no question about it. Not anymore.”

You’re quiet for a long time, but your lips kiss his jaw, his neck, his ear. He holds onto sanity because of that. Because he’s lying through his teeth, for the first time. He won’t understand. If you don’t come, he’s not sure he’ll be able to carry on with this persona he’s built. It will destroy him, take him down under.

That he’s sure of.

But he thinks of your precious heart. What it would be like to leave it all behind.

“I’ll come,” you say incredibly small, almost inaudible. “I’ll come if you want me there.”

Felix closes his eyes, relief washing over him. No more suffering, endless tossing and turning. He could finally have a life, maybe buy some property, make a house out of you. With you. With you. It sounded unachievable. A wish unable to be granted. Merely anything.

You’re breathing it all back to him.

“I need you there, starry girl. I love you.”

He feels you nod, but you don’t say it back. It cuts through him, but he understands. He doesn’t need to hear it, despite how desperate he is for it. It pours out of you, it started when you opened the door, and it continues to pour out now, with his cum gushing out of your cunt, your arm hugging him tightly, afraid to let go.

“Three months,” you say. “Please don’t make me regret it, Lix.”

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @streetlight-s, @j-0ne25.

#straykidsland #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix skz #stray kids #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #felix x reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunlix #mine.

[singonavine71]

The Pointer Sisters are an American girl group from Oakland, California, which achieved mainstream success during the 1970s and 1980s. Their repertoire has included such diverse genres as R&B, pop, jazz, electronic music, bebop, blues, soul, funk, dance, country, and rock. The Pointer Sisters have won three Grammy Awards and received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1994. The group had 13 US top 20 hits between 1973 and 1985.

#pointer sisters #black archives #black culture #black music #70s soul #80s songs #80s music #70s music #80s nostalgia #70s nostalgia #girl group #talent singer #beautiful black women

[human-antithesis]

Korn Country: United States Genre: Nu Metal Formed in: 1993

Lineup: James "Munky" Shaffer - Guitars (1993 - Present), Backing Vocals (2005 - Present) Raymond Luzier - Drums (2008 - Present) Jonathan Davis - Vocals, Bagpipes (1993 - Present), Drums (2006 - 2008) Reginald "Fieldy" Quincy - Bass (1993 - Present) Brian "Head" Welch - Guitars, Backing Vocals (1993 - 2005, 2013 - Present)

Albums:

1993 - Neidermayer's Mind (Demo) 1994 - Korn 1996 - Life is Peachy 1998 - Follow The Leader 1999 - Issues 2002 - Untouchables 2003 - Take a Look in the Mirror 2005 - See You on the Other Side 2007 - MTV Unplugged 2007 - Untitled 2010 - Korn III: Remember Who You Are 2011 - The Path of Totality 2012 - The Path of Totality Tour: Live at the Hollywood Palladium 2013 - The Paradigm Shift 2016 - The Serenity of Suffering 2019 - The Nothing 2022 - Requiem

#Telegram #Korn #Nu Metal #Jonathan Davis #Raymond Luzier #James Shaffer #Munky #Reginald Quincy #Fieldy #Brian Welch #Head #United States #USA #US

[ausetkmt]

Singer Tina Turner, one of rock’s most famous voices who had hits including Proud Mary and The Best, has died at the age of 83 after a long illness, her publicist has said.

Turner had suffered ill health in recent years, being diagnosed with intestinal cancer in 2016 and having a kidney transplant in 2017.

"There will be a private funeral ceremony attended by close friends and family," Turner's publicist said. "Please respect the privacy of her family at this difficult time."

In a career spanning over 60 years, the American-Swiss singer, who was born Anna Mae Bullock in Nutbush, Tennessee, won eight competitive Grammy Awards and has a star on both the Hollywood Walk of Fame and the St Louis Walk of Fame.

Her autobiography, I, Tina, was turned into the 1993 film What’s Love Got To Do With It, dramatising the mother-of-two’s famously turbulent relationship with Ike Turner and it also saw Angela Bassett nominated for an Oscar for her performance as Tina in the biopic.

Turner, widely referred to as the Queen of Rock and Roll, wed her long-time German beau, the music executive Erwin Bach, in a Swiss civil ceremony in 2013, and has lived in Switzerland with him since 1994.

It was the second marriage for the music star, who was previously married to musician Ike from 1962 to 1978.

In her 1986 book, the singer narrated a harrowing tale of abuse, including suffering a broken nose during the course of her marriage to Ike.

Ike died in December 2007 and Tina’s spokeswoman at the time was quoted as saying: “Tina is aware that Ike passed away earlier today. She has not had any contact with him in 35 years. No further comment will be made.”

#RIP Tina Turner #Tina Turner

[thislovintime]

Brian Setzer, Nash Kato, Chrissie Hynde, Peter Tork, and Joe Strummer, backstage at the Hollywood Palladium, (possibly November 13th) 1994; photo by Robert Matheu.

“Urge Overkills’s Nash Kato — riding high on the Pulp Fiction-generated attention surrounding his band’s cover of Neil Diamond’s ‘Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon’ — couldn’t stay out too late, as he was due to fly to London the next day to appear on Top of the Pops. He did have time, however, to stick around [backstage at the Pretenders gig at the Palladium] and meet an old role model. ‘Chrissie rocks harder than anybody, and Joe Strummer and Brian Setzer are the coolest,’ he explained. ‘But when I was a kid, I wanted to grow my hair long, and the only compromise I could make with my parents and grandparents was to show them pictures of Peter Tork on my Monkees trading cards. I grew up with his haircut, so it was an honor to finally meet him. He’s a nice guy, and he still has great hair!’” - BAM, 1995

Q: “How do your children feel about the resurgent popularity of the Monkees?” Peter Tork: “They understand. The kids see us every night before and after the show. They see and hear us if we are a little testy with each other. They see us as humans because they see us day in and day out. They know what life is like. They see the inside of it that makes it all very human. Micky’s daughter, Ami is a professional actress. But if my daughter were to meet Chrissie Hynde, she would be shaking in her boots! We are all family men now. We all have teenaged daughters. And Michael has teenaged sons. I have a son that will be a teenager in a couple of years.” - Blitz!, November/December 1987

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #90s Tork #Hallie Iannoli #Ivan Iannoli #Brian Setzer #Nash Kato #Chrissie Hynde #Joe Strummer #1994 #1990s #The Monkees #Monkees #et al #long read #can you queue it

[alienelvisobsession]

The Quentin Tarantino Connection

When he was a teenager in the late 1970s and early 1980s, Quentin Tarantino was by his own admission way into ‘50s rockabilly music. “I was like the second coming of Elvis Presley. I dyed my hair black. I wore it in a big ole pompadour”, he said in an interview. In his recent book Cinema Speculation, he writes about discussing cinema with his mom’s black friend Floyd, who was into blaxploitation. He loved hearing Floyd’s first-hand accounts of being a black Elvis fan back in the 1950s, also rebuking claims that the King of Rock ‘n Roll was racist. He even included “Elvis impersonator” in his early résumé and it must have paid out because he was cast as one in an episode of the sit-com The Golden Girls in 1988. Incidentally, Tarantino was born in Elvis’ home state of Tennessee, where his mother is from, and as a kid was even left there for a year, describing his family as “hillbilly alcoholics”.

Elvis often comes up in his movies. For example in a deleted scene of his now classic film Pulp Fiction (1994), Mia Wallace uses a hand-held video camera to interview Vincent Vega with either/or questions. She explains the game as follows: “There are only two kinds of people in the world, Beatles people and Elvis people”. Mia has no doubts about Vincent’s allegiance. With his swagger, callback to “Grease” and dance moves, John Travolta is an Elvis man through and through.

Of course, Mia and Vincent later go a to ‘50s themed diner called Jack Rabbit Slim’s, where they have the famous twist contest dancing to Chuck Berry’s “You Never Can Tell”. The waiters are all dressed like dead stars from the 1950s, such as Marilyn Monroe, James Dean and Buddy Holly. Even though, as Vincent would put it, the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll must have had the night off, in Mia’s words “an Elvis man should love it”. Tarantino said that the design for the diner, where the guests sit in booths made like ‘50s vintage cars and the dance floor looks like a tachometer, was partially inspired by the nightclub with race car motifs in one of Elvis’ movies, Speedway (1968).

Tarantino references Elvis here and there in his work. In the novelization of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood that he wrote, for example, Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio in the movie) is described by his agent Marvin (Al Pacino) as having spent all his career “running pocket combs through his pompadour”, which by 1969 not even Elvis has anymore.

His biggest Elvis homage came very early on in his career, though. As a matter of fact, to finance what would become his first movie, Reservoir Dogs (1992), Tarantino auctioned a script that he had written, True Romance. It was made into a movie by Tony Scott and it ultimately came out in 1993. True Romance begins with a casual conversation about pop culture in the style of Mr. Brown with his infamous “Like a Virgin” theory in Reservoir Dogs. Clarence (Christian Slater) is at a bar, chatting up a girl. Like Tarantino, Clarence prefers ‘50s Elvis and praises Jailhouse Rock (the movie not the song) where Elvis was everything that rockabilly was about: “Mean, surly, nasty, rude”. And then, obviously interested in picking up the girl, he continues: “Elvis looked good. I mean, I ain’t no fag, but Elvis was prettier than most women, you know. Most women. You know, I always said if I had to fuck a guy – you know, I mean, had to – if my life depended on it, I’d fuck Elvis”. Tarantino establishes the rules for his story right away: just like you have fantasies where you wish you were Elvis or as cool as Elvis, or you wish you could fuck him, this movie is a whole fantasy where you wish you were a hero who had a crazy adventure and passionate love story involving pimps, drugs and guns.

Clarence, an alter ego for the author, falls madly in love with Alabama (Patricia Arquette), a call girl. Clarence loves martial arts movies, comic books, hamburgers and Elvis, just like the film director. He also wears Elvis glasses and drives a purple Cadillac. Throughout the movie, Elvis pops up several times, in magazines, on T-shirts and on furniture or posters. The most striking appearance is obviously when Clarence sees Elvis (Val Kilmer) in the bathroom mirror, dressed in his gold lamé suit but anachronistically sporting his ‘70s big glasses. Elvis tells Clarence that he has to kill Alabama’s pimp, and there the adventure begins.

In Cinema Speculation, which sits halfway between film criticism and memoir, Tarantino goes back to Elvis several times. He writes that Elvis could have been the biggest movie star of the 1960s, if it weren’t for Colonel Parker’s greediness and for the weight of his own enormous success in the music business. He even mentions excitedly that Elvis was considered for the role of Sundance in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) opposite Warren Beatty, before the roles went to Paul Newman and Robert Redford.

Tarantino has always took a liking for B movies, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to learn that he’s not dismissive of Elvis movies as a whole and writes about a few of them in detail. He considers Flaming Star (1960), for instance, to be “a truly great fifties Western, and maybe the most brutally violent American western of its era.” According to him, the film director, Don Siegel, who would go on to direct Dirty Harry (1971), was a master when it came to film fistfights and chase sequences. This was because of his background in editing and his penchant for violence. Tarantino also praises Don Siegel’s unexpected use of shocking bouts of violence, of which there are several in Flaming Star. His protagonists, including Elvis’ Pacer, were often at odds with the society they lived in, which reflected the way Siegel felt around film executives and producers. “Pod people” is how he called them, in reference to his movie The Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) and in this category he included Elvis’ nefarious manager, Colonel Tom Parker.

Tarantino recognizes that Elvis movies weren’t real movies but “ElvIs movies”, but he’s a fan of Roustabout (1964) nevertheless. He describes it as: “a pretty entertaining little picture chock-full of cool elements, Elvis entering the movie on a motorcycle—dressed head to toe in black leather […], a strong Big Valley era Barbara Stanwyck as his colead, a one-line bit at the beginning by Raquel Welch, the best soundtrack of any of Elvis’ color films, including a rarity for the King on film—Elvis singing a cover of somebody else’s hit, the Coasters’ Little Egypt, and the only film where Elvis gets to demonstrate his Ed Parker-taught karate moves.” Because of course Tarantino loves martial arts movies, just like Elvis did. And blaxploitation, hamburgers, comic books and being over the top. They would have been great friends.

Read here my previous posts on Elvis connections. So far I’ve written about Jimi Hendrix, Andy Warhol/Bob Dylan, the Clash and Jim Morrison.

#quentin tarantino #elvis presley #elvis #1990s cinema #elvis movies #true romance #pulp fiction #don siegel #flaming star #film criticism #1960s cinema #speedway #roustabout #tarantino #tarantino movies

[carolmunson]

hey beautiful

i'm obsessed with your rockstar!eddie series , i absolutely loved the angst with the boxer!steve crossover stuff but i know that's not really relevant to the timeline anymore... anyway was just wondering if you could kind of explain the timeline a little bit pls?? now that it's changed i mean. no problem if not!! love ur work carol, can't wait for another rockstar!eddie chapter <333

yes! i know it gets a little confusing. short lore below the cut:

so, they meet in summer of '89 but don't start oficially dating until fall of '89 (sweet you rock, sweet you roll). whirlwind romance, unaware that he's using to start. once it becomes clear that he's using, he's in and out of rehab (mentioning being off 'smack' in 'party favors', but also caught using by steve in @rustedhearts 'got it bad' in 1990). after back and forths of in rehab and out of rehab, you (stella) has had enough of the back and forth. it's either he gets clean for good or it's over. he's caught using after his 'final stint' at rehab in january 1992 where she leaves him and he goes back to his house in hollywood and she stays in the hills. stella (you) leave your ring behind for him to hold onto as a reminder of what he lost. in that time he goes and works on himself and meets up with steve (which we are retconning them hating eachother because the timelines have changed obv lol) to work on his shit. goes home to hawkins for a little, starts like -- getting his shit together. in september of 1992 after the MTV awards they see eachother again and reconcile but she's not ready to commit fully to him because she's just...not sure yet. he's made so many promises before. november 1992 after a bit of them trying to work things out back in the hills house he pulls a grand gesture as a reminder that he's eddie munson and he is so dumb sick in love with his girl that he flew everyone out to celebrate thanksgiving so that she wouldn't be sad. (not givin' it up part 1 and part 2).

they are married in late 1993, the sex tape leaks in january 1994 (video killed the radio star) and eddie is on leno soon after. this is also the year that eddie destroy's howard stern's studio after howard says some rude and lewd things about you in regards to the tape. (this is alluded to in alive with the glory of love but is also mentioned in the old timeline).

the twins are born in late 1994. we have some stuff brewing about eddie potentially being caught using a little after 'feeling mighty fine' in 1997 when the twins are still little. this causes a pretty big fight between steve and eddie since he is a new father now, too. but this is tbd! eddie goes back to rehab some time in 1998/1999ish after a slip up (referenced in an upcoming fic). he also struggles with a creeping cocaine addiction in the mid 00s.

fast forward to 2023 -- everyone is living a pretty cool life. :) (alive with the glory of love)

#rockstar!eddie

[justforbooks]

David Crosby, who has died aged 81, was a premier-league rock’n’roll star twice. In the mid-1960s he was a founder member of the Byrds, the Los Angeles band often credited with inventing the genre “folk-rock”. This was defined by their shimmering recording of Bob Dylan’s Mr Tambourine Man, its distinctive harmonies and chiming 12-string guitar carrying it to the top of the charts in Britain and the US in 1965.

Arrogant and argumentative, Crosby was sacked from the Byrds in 1967, but, after producing Joni Mitchell’s debut album, Song to a Seagull, he found an ideal berth with Crosby, Stills and Nash. It was a group of distinct individuals who wrote their own songs, but together they created one of the great harmony-singing blends in pop history. Their debut album, Crosby Stills & Nash (1969), was an immediate smash, and proved hugely influential on a rising generation of west coast artists. Crosby’s long hair, walrus moustache and buckskin jacket made him look like a frontiersman for the Age of Aquarius. Their second album, Déjà Vu (1970), with the addition of Neil Young, and the band becoming Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young (CSNY), felt like the crowning moment of a California golden age. It topped the US chart, reached No 5 in the UK and has sold 14m copies.

The members then embarked on solo ventures and their reunions grew increasingly rare, though they reformed for a stadium tour in 1974, a lavishly wasteful affair that Crosby nicknamed “the Doom tour”. A major obstacle was that Crosby, a regular marijuana and LSD user, would succumb to a ferocious addiction to crack cocaine, with near-fatal consequences. This came to a head on 28 March 1982, when he was arrested by the California Highway Patrol after he crashed his car into the central divider on the Interstate 405 highway. Police found freebasing paraphernalia and a .45-calibre pistol in the car, and it was later determined that Crosby had suffered a seizure from “toxic saturation”.

A couple of weeks later he was arrested again on similar charges, this time at a Dallas nightclub where he was performing. A spell in a rehab facility in New Jersey failed when Crosby fled the premises. His decline from prince of west coast rock aristocracy to struggling addict was halted only when he was jailed in Texas in 1986, following yet another drugs-and-firearms arrest.

In 1985, Spin magazine had told its readers “The Tragic Story of David Crosby’s Living Death”, but after being paroled from Huntsville prison in August 1986, Crosby staged a remarkable comeback. He marked his return with the enthralling autobiography Long Time Gone (1988) and the solo album Oh Yes I Can (1989). He would make six further solo discs, in addition to Crosby & Nash (2004), two albums with Stills and Nash (Live It Up in 1990 and After the Storm, 1994) and American Dream and Looking Forward with CSNY (1988 and 1999). In 1987 he married Jan Dance, who had survived her own addiction purgatory alongside him. Shortly after being diagnosed with hepatitis C, in 1994 he underwent a liver transplant, the operation paid for by Phil Collins (Crosby had sung on Collins’s 1989 hit Another Day in Paradise), and bounced back with renewed energy.

Born in Los Angeles, he was the second son of the cinematographer Floyd Crosby and his first wife, Aliph Van Cortlandt Whitehead, a scion of the influential Van Cortlandt dynasty. Floyd came from an upper-class New York background, his father having been the treasurer of the Union Pacific Railroad, and his mother the daughter of a renowned surgeon. He had tried his hand at banking in New York before working on documentary films in the South Pacific (including FW Murnau’s Tabu, for which he won an Oscar) and eventually moving to Hollywood, where he won a Golden Globe award for his work on Fred Zinnemann’s western High Noon and made numerous films with Roger Corman.

David’s early musical influences included classical music and jazz as well as the Everly Brothers and bluesman Josh White, and he recalled how he would take the harmony parts when the family would gather to sing extracts from The Fireside Book of Folk Songs. A trip with his mother to hear a symphony orchestra “was the most intense experience I can remember from my early life” (as he wrote in Long Time Gone), because it illustrated how musicians could collaborate “to make something bigger than any one person could ever do”.

He attended the exclusive Crane school in Montecito, California, then Cate boarding school in Carpinteria. Though intelligent, he regarded academic work with contempt and refused to apply himself. One area where he did shine was in musical stage shows, such as his performance as the First Lord of the Admiralty in Gilbert and Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore. He subsequently attended Santa Barbara City College, but quit and moved to LA to study acting. However, music was becoming his true focus, and he began playing in folk clubs with his elder brother Ethan (who would take his own life in 1997). When a girlfriend became pregnant, Crosby hastily left town and worked his way across the country towards the folk-singing mecca of Greenwich Village, New York, where the likes of Peter, Paul and Mary, Phil Ochs and Joan Baez were breaking through, while Dylan was about to transform the musical climate entirely.

Crosby formed a partnership with the Chicago-born folk singer Terry Callier and they performed frequently together, before Crosby travelled down to Florida in 1962 to sample the folk scene in Miami’s Coconut Grove district. He then worked his way back to Los Angeles via Denver, Chicago and San Francisco. In LA he met Jim (later Roger) McGuinn and Gene Clark, all of them fascinated by the Beatles and the idea of mixing folk with rock’n’roll. They became the Jet Set, which evolved into the Byrds with the addition of the bassist Chris Hillman and drummer Michael Clarke.

Signed to Columbia, the Byrds had already built an enthusiastic local following by playing in clubs such as Ciro’s on Sunset Strip by the time Mr Tambourine Man was released in April 1965, and its success was followed up by their debut album, released in June. Crosby’s distinctive tenor voice was integral to the band’s vocal blend, and he began to develop an idiosyncratic songwriting style.

Influenced by jazz as much as rock, his songs used unusual chords and unconventional melodies. On the band’s third album, Fifth Dimension (1966), one of his most significant contributions was co-writing Eight Miles High. This psychedelic milestone gave them a Top 20 US hit, and also reflected Crosby’s infatuation with the jazz saxophonist John Coltrane. Their next album, Younger Than Yesterday (1967), featured Crosby’s ethereal Everybody’s Been Burned as well as his self-indulgent sound experiment Mind Gardens, while the song Why reflected his admiration for the sitar maestro Ravi Shankar. When the Byrds met the Beatles, Crosby’s enthusiasm for Shankar helped spark George Harrison’s interest in Indian music.

Crosby’s green suede cape and Borsalino hat had made him a Hollywood Hills style icon, but his days as a Byrd were numbered. He had irked his bandmates at the Monterey pop festival in June 1967 by making rambling speeches about LSD and the assassination of John F Kennedy, and also by getting on stage with Stills’s band Buffalo Springfield in place of the absent Young. Crosby’s song Lady Friend (1967) flopped as a single, and during the making of the album The Notorious Byrd Brothers he was fired after arguments over the choice of material. His song Triad, depicting a menage-a-trois, was vetoed by his bandmates as being too risque (Jefferson Airplane subsequently recorded it). Nonetheless, Crosby played on and co-wrote several tracks, and The Notorious Byrd Brothers is arguably the Byrds’ finest album.

Borrowing $25,000 from Peter Tork of the Monkees, Crosby bought a 74ft schooner called Mayan, where he would write some of his best-known songs including Crosby, Stills and Nash’s Wooden Ships. The obvious potential of CSN immediately won them a deal with Atlantic Records, which released their debut album in May 1969. Their second-ever live appearance was at the Woodstock festival that August. Though dominated by the all-round wizardry of Stills, the album showcased the different writing skills of each member. Crosby’s Guinnevere demonstrated his fondness for unusual scales and harmonies, while the bluesy Long Time Gone was a heartfelt response to the assassination of Bobby Kennedy and indicated the group’s willingness to embrace political and social issues.

Déjà Vu, released nine months later, brought another strong showing from Crosby. The hanging chords and mysterious time changes of his title track made it one of his most mesmerising compositions, while Almost Cut My Hair was his battle cry for the counterculture. However, personality clashes within the group while on tour in 1970 prompted them to split.

All the members made solo albums, including Crosby’s If I Could Only Remember My Name (1971). Additionally, he formed a successful duo with Nash, which brought them US Top 10 hit albums with Graham Nash David Crosby (1972, also UK No 13) and Wind on the Water (1975), and they reached No 26 with Whistling Down the Wire (1976). In 1973 Crosby reunited with his previous band for the album Byrds, and in 1977 Crosby, Stills and Nash released CSN, which reached No 2 on the US album chart and outsold the trio’s debut. However, by the time they made Daylight Again (1981), another US Top 10 hit, Crosby was in the throes of addiction. Allies (1983), a patchwork of live and studio material, was the group’s last effort before he was jailed.

Crosby’s post-prison renaissance continued with regular tours with CSN, who went on the road almost annually from 1987, with Young joining them in 2000, 2002 and 2006. He released the solo album Thousand Roads (1993), which gave him a minor hit single with Hero, then picked up the pace dramatically in the new century with Croz (2014), Lighthouse (2016), Sky Trails (2017) and Here If You Listen (2018). For Free, featuring Steely Dan’s Donald Fagen and Michael McDonald, came out in 2021. His final release, in December, was David Crosby & the Lighthouse Band Live at the Capitol Theatre.

One of his regular musical collaborators was James Raymond, his child with Celia Crawford Ferguson, whom Crosby had left pregnant in California in the early 60s, and who had given her baby up for adoption. She later moved to Australia. Raymond met his birth mother in 1994, then in 1995 introduced himself to his biological father at UCLA medical centre, where Crosby was having treatment following his liver transplant. An accomplished musician and composer, Raymond played in the jazz-rock band CPR with his father and Jeff Pevar (they released four albums between 1998 and 2001), was music director for Crosby’s solo live shows and also became a member of Crosby, Stills and Nash’s touring band from 2009.

Yet Crosby’s creative rebirth coincided with a calamitous breakdown in relations with his old comrades. In 2014 Young said CSNY would never tour again after Crosby described his new partner, Daryl Hannah, as “a purely poisonous predator”, and in 2016 Nash, who had always gone the extra mile for Crosby throughout his addiction years, also announced his estrangement from him.

In 1991 Crosby was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a member of the Byrds, and in 1997 with Crosby, Stills and Nash. He won the 2019 Critics’ Choice movie award as the “most compelling living subject of a documentary” for AJ Eaton’s film David Crosby: Remember My Name.

Crosby continued to be plagued by health problems. He suffered from type 2 diabetes, and in 2014 was left with eight stents in his heart following major cardiac surgery.

He was the sperm donor for the children of Melissa Etheridge and her partner Julie Cypher: their son, Beckett, who died in 2020, and daughter, Bailey.

Jan and their son, Django, survive him, as do James, a daughter, Erika, by Jackie Guthrie, and a daughter, Donovan, by Debbie Donovan.

🔔 David Van Cortlandt Crosby, musician, singer and songwriter, born 14 August 1941; died 18 January 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #David Crosby #in memoriam

[yyh4ever]

Yu Yu Hakusho Symphonic Collection I & II

Those two CDs are a selection of theme songs from "Yu Yu Hakusho", performed by the Nagoya Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted by Bob Sakuma.

Yu Yu Hakusho Symphonic Collection Vol. I (January/1995)

Cover

Booklet

"Yu Yu Hakusho" (written by Yoshihiro Togashi) has been serialized in Shueisha's "Weekly Shounen Jump" since 1990 and continues to have an overwhelming popularity. The comic books have had a tremendous circulation, and the TV animation, which aired on nationwide Fuji Television network, has recorded an astonishingly high viewer rating, an event that is said to occur once in decades.

The amount of characters' goods sold is enormous, and they continue to be eagerly desired by the fans.

The "Yu Yu Hakusho Symphonic Collection" is a selection of profoundly memorable theme songs from the big hit and masterpiece anime "Yu Yu Hakusho". Conducted by Bob Sakuma with great performance of the Nagoya Philharmonic Orchestra, we will present you with a profound and magnificence orchestration.

Track List:

INTRODUCTION

2. Unbalance na Kiss wo Shite (アンバランスなKissをして)

3. Hohoemi no Bakudan (微笑みの爆弾)

4. Kōri no Naifu wo Daite ~ Kokoro wo Tsunaide ~ Tasogare ni se wo Mukete (氷のナイフを抱いて～心をつないで～黄昏に背を向けて)

5. Taiyou ga Mata Kagayaku Toki (太陽がまた輝くと)

6. Homework ga Owaranai (ホームワークが終わらない)

7. Mienai Mirai e～Yasashisa wa Nemuranai～Hikari no Naka de (見えない未来へ～優しさは眠らない～光の中で)

8. Daydream Generation (デイドリーム・ジェネレーション)

9. Sayonara Bye Bye (さよならバイ・バイ)

10. END CREDITS

Bob Sakuma (ボブ佐久間)

Profile:

Composer, arranger, and conductor. At the age of 4, he started playing violin and piano, and at the age of 22, he made his debut as a composer.

Unsatisfied with the smooth sailing of the work as a writer, at the age of 27, he suddenly decided to emigrate to the United States, in order to know more about his own abilities on a global level. He lived in Hollywood, California, for 8 years, where he worked with many famous artists, especially in commercials and live performances.

In October 1985, he returned to Japan and settled there again. He has worked on numerous stages, TV shows, doramas, movies, musicals, etc., and his extensive composition (of music) activities have gained overwhelming support across genres such as pop, rock, jazz, and classical music.

Nagoya Philharmonic Orchestra (名古屋フィルハーモニー交響楽団)

Profile

Formed in 1966 by volunteer musicians of Nagoya City and surrounding areas, they gave their first subscription concert in October 1967.

Thereafter, they have steadily enhanced their skills while adjusting their structure as an orchestra. In 1988, they performed for the first time overseas, receiving great acclaim in various cities in Europe such as Paris and Geneva, and performing a great task as a cultural envoy.

T/N: Cultural envoy - figures and artists are sent overseas to engage in activities that will promote Japanese culture and create and reinforce cultural networks.

In recent years, symphonic pop concerts by symphony orchestras have become very popular, so they also have been very active in this area. In 1994, they have attracted attention from various circles with the "Symphonic Suite: The Silent Service," conducted by Bob Sakuma.

T/N: The Silent Service (沈黙の艦隊, Chinmoku no Kantai) is a manga series written and illustrated by Kaiji Kawaguchi.

Yu Yu Hakusho Symphonic Collection Vol.II (June/1996)

Cover

Booklet

Track List:

1. INTRODUCTION "Makai no Ibuki" (「魔界の息吹」, "Breath of Makai") 2. Hohoemi no Bakudan (微笑みの爆弾) 3. Unbalance na Kiss wo Shite (アンバランスなkissをして) 4. Sayonara Bye Bye (さよならbyebye) 5. Daydream Generation (デイドリーム・ジェネレーション) 6. Taiyo ga Mata Kagayaku Toki (太陽がまた輝くと) 7. Homework ga Owaranai (ホームワークが終わらない) 8. Kurayami ni Akai Bara ~Romantic Soldier~ (暗闇に紅いバラ) 9. Dead or Alive ~Toushin~ 10. Kuchibue ga Kikoeru (口笛が聴こえる) 11. WILD WIND ~Yasei no Kaze no you ni~ 12. EYE TO EYE 13. Sayonara wa Mirai no Hajimari (サヨナラは未来のはじま)

All tracks are performed by Nagoya Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Bob Sakuma.

Profile

Bob Sakuma (ボブ佐久間)

Composer, arranger, and conductor. At the age of 4, he started playing violin and piano, and at the age of 22, he made his debut as a composer. Unsatisfied with the smooth sailing of the work of as a writer, at the age of 27, he suddenly decided to emigrate to the United States, in order to know more about his own abilities on a global level. He lived in Hollywood, California, for 8 years, where he worked with many famous artists, especially in commercials and live performances. In October 1985, he returned to Japan and settled there again. He has worked on numerous stages, TV shows, doramas, movies, musicals, etc., and his extensive composition (of music) activities have gained overwhelming support across genres such as pop, rock, jazz, and classical music. His representative works include the "The Silent Service Soundtrack" CD (Media Remoras) and the "Yu Yu Hakusho Symphonic Collection" CD (Media Remoras).

Nagoya Philharmonic Orchestra

Volunteer musicians from the City of Nagoya and the surrounding area founded the NPO in 1966. They gave their first subscription concert in October 1967. Thereafter, they have steadily enhanced their skills while adjusting their structure as an orchestra. In 1988, they performed for the first time overseas, receiving great acclaim in various cities in Europe such as Paris and Geneva, thus performing a great task as a cultural envoy. In recent years, symphonic pop concerts by symphony orchestras have become very popular, so they also have been very active in this area, attracting attention from various circles with the "Symphonic Suite: The Silent Service," conducted by Bob Sakuma, in 1994. Finally, in 1995, they formed Japan's first pop orchestra known as the "Mei-Phil Pop Orchestra". Their future success is greatly anticipated. One of their representative works is the "Yu Yu Hakusho Symphonic Collection" CD (Media Remoras).

#Yu Yu Hakusho Symphonic Collection #Bob Sakuma #Nagoya Philharmonic Orchestra #media remoras #幽遊白書 シンフォニック・コレクション

[ramblinguitar]

There’s not too much about the Murderdolls around here, at least that doesn’t seem to be Slipknot adjacent. Which is cool, since Joey was in both. But this band is just a lot of fun.

(Source : Spirit of Metal)

While some consider the Murderdolls to have initially been born from Joey Jordison’s band The Rejects, way back in 1994 before Slipknot was signed; the band formed in 2002, in Hollywood California.

Consisting mainly of Joey Jordison and Wednesday 13, the touring (and some in studio work) line up included Tripp Eisen (Satic-X, Dope), Acey Slade (Dope, Wednesday 13, currently live guitarist for the Misfits), Eric Griffin, Ben Graves, among some other rotating musicians.

The band was active from years 2002-2004, and again from 2010-2011.

They’re macabre. They’re weird. They’re shock rock mall goth metal. They’re also pretty cool.

And this Billy Idol cover? Yes, please.

Also, here’s a gem featuring Peter Steele from 2005:

#the Murderdolls #Murderdolls #joey jordison #wednesday 13 #acey slade #tripp eisen #Slipknot #shock rock #mall goth #2002 #emo #music #audio #glam metal #Spotify #Youtube

[b-oovies]

Scooby-Doo (Sequência)

Scooby-Doo em Hollywood, 1979.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e os Irmãos Boo, 1987.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e a Escola Assombrada, 1988.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e o Lobisomem, 1989.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! em Uma Noite das Arábias,1994.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo na Ilha dos Zumbis, 1998.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e o Fantasma da Bruxa, 1999.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e os Invasores Alienigenas, 2000.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e a Perseguição Cibernética, 2001

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo!, 2002.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e a Lenda do Vampiro, 2003.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e o Monstro do México, 2003.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e o Monstro de Lago Ness, 2004.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo 2: Monstros à Solta, 2004.

aqui apenas dublado.

Aloha, Scooby-Doo!, 2005.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! em Cadê a Minha Múmia?, 2005.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Piratas a Vista, 2006.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! O Abominável Homem das Neves, 2007.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e o Rei dos Duendes, 2008.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e a Espada do Samurai, 2009.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e a Maldição do Monstro do Lago, 2010.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! O Mistério Começa, 2009.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Abracadabra-Doo, 2010.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Verão Assombrado, 2010.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e a Maldição do Monstro do Lago, 2010.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! A Lenda do Fantasmossauro, 2011.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Música de Vampiro, 2012.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Estrela do Circo, 2012.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! A Máscara do Falcão Azul, 2013.

aqui apenas dublado.

As Aventuras de Scooby! O Mapa Misterioso, 2013

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e o Fantasma da Ópera, 2013.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Mistério na LutaMania, 2014.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e a Maldição do Frankenstein, 2014.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Loucura do Monstro da Lua, 2015.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e Kiss: O Mistério do Rock and Roll, 2015.

aqui apenas dublado.

LEGO Scooby-Doo! Hollywood Assombrada, 2016.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e WWE: Maldição do Demônio Veloz, 2016.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e o Combate do Salsicha, 2017.

aqui apenas dublado.

Lego Scooby-Doo! Golpe de Praia, 2017.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e Batman: Os Bravos e Destemidos, 2018.

aqui apenas dublado.

Daphne e Velma, 2015.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e o Fantasma Gourmet, 2018.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! e a Maldição do 13º Fantasma, 2019.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo! Retorno à Ilha dos Zumbis, 2019.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby! O Filme, 2020.

aqui apenas dublado.

Feliz Dia das Bruxas, Scooby-Doo, 2020.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-Doo e a Espada, 2021.

aqui apenas dublado.

Diretamente de Lugar Nenhum: Scooby-Doo! Encontra Coragem, 2021.

aqui apenas dublado.

Scooby-doo! Trick Or Treat, 2022.

aqui apenas dublado.

#scooby doo #filmes

[thisisyourdriverspeaking]

Part 6 of my 'motorsport number ones' post. This time it's the random bunch of drivers edition

Sebastien Loeb - (26th February 1974) - Suzi Quatro - Devil Gate Drive

Juan Pablo Montoya - (20th September 1975) - Rod Stewart - Sailing

Mark Webber - (27th August 1976) - Elton John & Kiki Dee - Don't Go Breaking My Heart

Jenson Button - (19th January 1980) - The Pretenders - Brass In Pocket

Felipe Massa - (25th April 1981) - Bucks Fizz - Making Your Mind Up

Heikki Kovalainen - (19th October 1981) - Dave Stewart & Barbara Gaskin - It's My Party

Pippa Mann - (11th August 1983) - KC & The Sunshine Band - Give It Up

Robert Kubica - (7th December 1984) - Frankie Goes To Hollywood - The Power Of Love

Nico Rosberg - (27th June 1985) - Sister Sledge - Frankie

Jerome D'Ambrosio - (27th December 1985) - Shakin' Stevens - Merry Christmas Everyone

James Hinchcliffe - (5th December 1986) - Europe - The Final Countdown

Oliver Turvey - (1st April 1987) - Ferry Aid - Let It Be

Sebastian Vettel - (3rd July 1987) - Pet Shop Boys - It's A Sin

Alexander Sims - (15th March 1988) - Kylie Minogue - I Should Be So Lucky

Molly Taylor - (6th May 1988) - S'Express - Theme From S'Express

James Calado - (13th June 1989) - Jason Donovan - Sealed With A Kiss

Daniel Ricciardo - (1st July 1989) - Soul II Soul & Caron Wheeler - Back To Life

Simona De Silvestro - (1st September 1988) - Yazz & Plastic Population - The Only Way Is Up

Brendon Hartley - (10th November 1989) - Lisa Stansfield - All Around The World

Cristina Gutierrez - (24th July 1991) - Bryan Adams - (Everything I Do) I Do It For You

Abbie Eaton - (2nd January 1992) - Queen - These Are The Days Of Our Lives

Reema Juffali - (18th January 1992) - Wet Wet Wet - Goodnight Girl

Timmy Hansen - (21st May 1992) - K.W.S - Please Don't Go

Daniel Abt - (3rd December 1992) & Alice Powell - (26th January 1993) - Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You

Christine GZ - (22nd July 1993) - Take That - Pray

Alex Lynn - (17th September 1993) - Culture Beat - Mr Vain

Bubba Wallace - (8th October 1993) - Take That & Lulu - Relight My Fire

Naomi Schiff - (18th May 1994) - Manchester United Football Squad - Come On You Reds

Jessica Hawkins - (16th February 1995) & Beitske Visser - (10th March 1995) - Celine Dion - Think Twice

Nicholas Latifi - (29th June 1995) - Robson & Jerome - Unchained Melody

Jack Aitken - (23rd September 1995) - Simply Red - Fairground

Oliver Askew - (12th December 1996) - Boyzone - A Different Beat

Louis Deletraz - (22nd April 1997) - Michael Jackson - Blood On The Dance Floor

Catie Munnings - (15th November 1997) - Aqua - Barbie Girl

Cem Bolukbasi - (9th February 1998) - Aqua - Dr Jones

Jamie Chadwick - (20th May 1998) - All Saints - Under The Bridge

Kevin Hansen - (28th May 1998) - The Tamperer & Maya - Feel It

Mick Schumacher - (22nd March 1999) - B*witched - Blame It On The Weatherman

Max Fewtrell - (29th July 1999) - Ricky Martin - Livin' La Vida Loca

Robert Shwartzman - (16th September 1999) - Vengaboys - We're Going To Ibiza!

Bent Viscaal - (18th September 1999) - Eiffel 65 - Blue (Da Ba Dee)

Felipe Drugovich - (23rd May 2000) - Billie Piper - Day & Night

Marta Garcia - (9th August 2000) - Robbie Williams - Rock DJ

Liam Lawson - (11th February 2002) - Enrique Iglesias - Hero

Olli Caldwell - (11th June 2002) - Will Young - Light My Fire

Doriane Pin - (6th January 2004) - Michael Andrews & Gary Jules - Mad World

Bianca Bustamante - (19th January 2005) - Elvis Presley - One Night

All added to this playlist 😊

#music #songs #f1 #fe #super formula #extreme e #jenson button #nico rosberg #sebastian vettel #daniel ricciardo #jack aitken #louis deletraz #mick schumacher #felipe drugovich #liam lawson #motorsport number ones

[junkyardromeo]

neon angels lore post

neon angels was a hard rock band formed in hollywood, california in 1987 by vocalist lani sparks, guitarist ryan roxxi, bassist alistair steele, and drummer tripp jaxx. one of the many bands that cropped up in glam metal’s third and final wave, they never made much impact besides a fairly large local following.

lani sparks and ryan roxxi spearheaded the operation; the pair met in a bar in nashville (roxxi’s hometown) and soon decided to try their luck in hollywood. sparks hailed from a small town in south carolina. once in hollywood, the pair met tripp jaxx at ralph’s grocery while purchasing liquor. jaxx was from austin, texas, and the three found that they had much in common. sparks and roxxi, living on the street, moved in with jaxx the next day. they began plotting the band soon after. jaxx was friendly with a bassist called alistair steele, and introduced him to sparks and roxxi over pizza at the rainbow bar and grill. steele had his roots in savannah, georgia, and sparks felt that he was meant to play with them. steele brought the moniker “neon angels” to the table and the band blossomed from there. 

throughout the late 80s and early 90s, the band played hard and partied harder on the sunset strip. they played clubs such as the cathouse, the roxy theater, the coconut teazer, chuck landis’ country club, and many other small venues in and around the los angeles area. however, by the time the band had recorded their 5-track demo (fittingly titled “desperation”), the glam metal scene was on its leather clad knees, submitting to the new gods: grunge. despite their efforts and their unwavering dedication and faith, neon angels never secured a recording contract and were doomed to fade into obscurity like many of their peers. they disbanded in 1993. shortly after, jaxx moved back to texas and enrolled in the business program at texas christian university; steele, heavily addicted to heroin, went insane and has not been seen or heard from since 1993. roxxi was also using at the time, but was largely functioning and remained in hollywood with sparks. rumors have circulated that the two were romantically involved. in mid 1994, roxxi was arrested for drug possession, and three days later, sparks was found dead in his apartment. alcohol poisoning was ruled the cause of death. roxxi was released after three months and vowed to stay clean, but upon learning of sparks’ death, returned to his old habits. he overdosed on heroin in 1996 and was announced dead on arrival at cedars-sinai hospital in los angeles. sparks and roxxi are buried side by side on the outskirts of hollywood. 

#hiiiiii everyone i am So mentally ill about this! #i am also so happy to answer any and all questions about them. i love writing my horrid little stories #this band is my baby though. please. #neon angels #ocs #james writes

[brookston]

Holidays 10.29

Holidays

Black Salsify Day (French Republic)

Bob Ross Day (Abeldane Empire)

Candies Day

Coronation Day (Cambodia)

C6HO Day (Kentucky)

Cumhuriyet Bayrami (North Cyprus, Turkey)

Cyrus the Great Day (Iran)

Feed the Birds Day (UK)

Festival of Global Climate Change

Fiestas Patrias begins (Honduras)

Halloween Eve Eve

Hermit Day

Hide From Everyone Day (a.k.a. Hermit Day)

International Internet Day

Laugh Suddenly For No Reason A Lot Today Day

Naming Day (Tanzania)

National Boner Day

National Book Day (Brazil)

National Cat Daddy Day

National Cat Day

National Hermit Day

National Martina Day

Oatmeal Day

PSC Awareness Day

Sea Slug Day

Separation of Church and State Day

Turkish Republic Day (Turkey)

World Online Networking Day

World Psoriasis Day

World Stroke Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Gnocchi Day (Argentina)

National Disgusting Little Pumpkin-Shaped Candies Day

National Oatmeal Day

Poperinge Beer & Hop Festival begins (Belgium) [Every 3 years, 3rd Friday, but postponed from 2021]

5th & Last Sunday in October

European Summer Times Ends (EU) [Last Sunday]

International Creole Day (Dominica, Saint Lucia) [Last Sunday]

Jounen Kwéyòl (Creole Day; Dominica, Saint Lucia) [Last Sunday]

National Grandparents Day (Australia) [Last Sunday]

National Student Baptism Day [Last Sunday]

Reformation Sunday [Last Sunday]

Visit a Cemetery Day [Last Sunday]

World Swim Hat Day [Last Sunday]

Independence Days

Turkey (from Ottoman Empire, 1923)

Westarctica (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Abraham of Rostov (Christian; Saint)

Andrei Ryabushkin (Artology)

Chef (a.k.a. Theuderius; Christian; Saint)

Chiara Badano (Christian; Blessed)

Colman mac Duagh (Christian; Saint)

Douai Martyrs (Christian; Saint)

Gaetano Errico (Christian; Saint)

Ghatasthapana begins (Nepal)

Isis/Osiris Mysteries II (Pagan)

James Hannington (Anglicanism)

Kojagrat Purnima [15th Day of Dashain]

Lazarus Long Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Mary of Edessa (Christian; Saint)

Maximillian (Christian; Saint)

Narcissus of Jerusalem (Roman Catholic Church)

Nut Day (Pastafarian)

Robertson (Positivist; Saint)

Warren the Warthog (Muppetism)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Historically Unlucky Day [10 of 11]

Historically Bad Day (Stock Market Crash, Hurricane Sandy & 8 other tragedies) [10 of 11]

Lucky Day (Philippines) [58 of 71]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

All I Want for Christmas Is You, by Mariah Carey (Song; 1994)

The Autobiography of Malcolm X, with Alex Haley (Biography; 1965)

Being John Malkovich (Film; 1999)

Blue Moon, 24th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2019)

Bullwinkle Busts a Brush or The Cleft Palette (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 226; 1963)

BUtterfield 8, by John O'Hara (Roman à clef Novel; 1935)

Create Dangerously, by Albert Camus (manifesto; 1957)

Don Giovanni, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Opera; 1787)

The Fleischmann’s Yeast Hour (Radio Series; 1929)

Get Nervous, by Pat Benatar (Album; 1982)

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest (Film; 2010)

Hemispheres, by Rush (Album; 1978)

Hulu (Streaming Network; 2007)

The Huntley-Brinkley Report (TV News Show; 1956)

Jingle Bell Rock, recorded by Bobby Helm (Song; 1957)

Keeping Up Appearances (UK TV Series; 1990)

Last Night in Soho (Film; 2021)

Man of the Century (Film; 1999)

Mind Games, by John Lennon (Album; 1973)

My Generation, by The Who (Song; 1965)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (Animated Film; 1993)

The Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James (Novel; 1880)

Portrait of a Moose or Bullwinkle Gets the Brush (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 225; 1963)

Princess Mononoke (Anime Film; 1999)

Ray (Film; 2004)

Red Riding Hoodwinked (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You Now! (WB Animated Film; 2021)

The Sentinel, 25th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2020)

Trip for Tat (WB MM Cartoon; 1960)

Welcome to the Pleasure Dome, by Frankie Goes to Hollywood (Album; 1984)

What’ll I Do?, recorded by Frank Sinatra (Song; 1947)

Wild Target (Film; 2010)

Today’s Name Days

Ermelina, Hermelindis, Melinda (Austria)

Časlav, Honorat, Ida, Narcis (Croatia)

Silvie (Czech Republic)

Narcissus (Denmark)

Alf, Alfred, Fred, Fredi (Estonia)

Alfred, Urmasimo (Finland)

Narcisse (France)

Ermelinda, Franco, Grete, Melinda (Germany)

Abramios, Melina (Greece)

Nárcisz (Hungary)

Ermelinda, Michela, Massimiliano (Italy)

Elva, Elvijs, Fortuna, Laimonis (Latvia)

Gelgaudas, Narcizas, Tolvydė, Violeta (Lithuania)

Noralf, Norunn (Norway)

Euzebia, Franciszek, Longin, Longina, Lubogost, Narcyz, Teodor, Wioletta (Poland)

Anastasia (Romania)

Zinaida (Russia)

Klára (Slovakia)

Narciso (Spain)

Viola (Sweden)

Garrison, Cyrano, Cyrena, Narcissa, Narcissus (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 302 of 2024; 63 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 43 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Gort (Ivy) [Day 27 of 28]

Chinese: Month 9 (Ten-Xu), Day 15 (Geng-Shen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 14 Heshvan 5784

Islamic: 14 Rabi II 1445

J Cal: 2 Mir; Twosday [2 of 30]

Julian: 16 October 2023

Moon: 99%: Waning Gibbous

Positivist: 22 Descartes (11th Month) [Robertson]

Runic Half Month: Hagal (Hailstone) [Day 3 of 15]

Season: Autumn (Day 36 of 89)

Zodiac: Scorpio (Day 6 of 29)

#calendar #Holidays

[ranmagender]

Walter Paisley from A Bucket of Blood (1959) has appeared in many films, usually but not always portrayed by the late Dick Miller.

A Bucket of Blood (1959) - Struggling Artist

Hollywood Boulevard (1976) - Former Actor/Agent

The Howling (1981) - Occult Book Shop Owner

Twilight Zone: The Movie - Third Segment (1983) - Diner Owner

Chopping Mall (1986) - Janitor

Night of the Creeps (1986) - Police Officer

Shake, Rattle & Rock! (1994) - Police Officer

Hanukkah (2019) - Rabbi

I find this interesting, it started out as a joke but it really feels like perhaps Walter was subjected to rebirth for his deeds

#walter paisley #a bucket of blood #film

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (16-22 Apr 2023)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

🥰cast out fear (s0mmerspr0ssen) - 41K, star trek AOS canon-divergent - kirk almost dies saving Vulcan & is recovering there so there's some juicy hurt/comfort, slowly getting to know one another + BAMF amanda grayson (which is my fave)

😍The Mimicking of Known Successes (Mossa & Pleiti #1) (Malka Ann Older, author; Lindsey Dorcus, narrator) - novella, 'cozy Holmesian murder mystery and sapphic romance' set in space - really dug this, gave me similar vibes to Becky Chambers' stuff, where it's more about the worldbuilding and the character relationships than the plot (tho that is quite entertaining). looking forward to more

🥰It's The Snow (postmodernmulticoloredcloak) - 44K, stucky modern AU - snowed in, only one bed, enemies-to-lovers, light D/s dynamic tropetastic goodness!

💖💖 +279K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

Variations on George Penn (beautifulduckweed) - Band Sinister (KJ Charles): Ned Caulfield/George Penn, 3K - excellently done 'Wikipedia' article + some other magazine articles discussing George Penn's life, work & impact - I just love this kind of fanwork

Banana Daiquiris (Avelera) - The Sandman: Dreamling, 4K - cute & absolutely hilarious little fic about Dream 'on vacation' in Tahiti and deciding he wants Hob there too

boots & budweiser’s miraculous misadventures (helix_stomper) - Stranger Things: steddie, 34K - "Steve and Eddie meet at a gloryhole Pre-S4. It goes pretty much exactly how you’d expect." - 2 fics so far in this ongoing series - truly excellent smut but also some really great character stuff! While I can't wait to see how the story develops, what's already been given is 🥵🥰!

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Game Changer - s5, e2, 4

Dirty Laundry - s2, e8-10

Um, Actually - s1, e1-2; s7, e1, 3-12, s8, e1-2

Schmigadoon! - s2, e2-4

The Brokenwood Mysteries - s9, e2

Ted Lasso - s3, e6 [x2]

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

The Sporkful - Squishy Or Crunchy? Why Texture Matters [Gastropod]

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Bete Giyorgis of Lalibela

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Pack Your Bag(pipes) with Ross Jennings

Switched on Pop - BTS goes solo together

Shedunnit - Death Under Par

⭐Into It - A Guide to Spoiler Culture from 'Lost' to 'Succession'

Vibe Check - Do Not Disturb

99% Invisible #533 - Dear John and Roman [Dear Hank & John]

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - For Keeps Books

Decoder Ring Plus - The Curious Case of Columbo's Message to Romania

Ologies with Alie Ward - Delphinology (DOLPHINS) with Justin Gregg

Our Opinions Are Correct - Episode 128: Dungeons & Dragons Gets Cozy

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - John Brown’s Farm

⭐Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - The Spatial Race

Into It - Will Hollywood Strike? And Are We Into Netflix’s Late 'Love' and AI Drake?

Welcome to Night Vale - Bonus Episode: Behind the Scenes (April 2023)

⭐You're Dead To Me - Cleopatra

Switched on Pop - A.I. Drake has put music in a tailspin [Vergecast]

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Duran Duran [Duran Duran] {1981}

Rio [Duran Duran] {1982}

Duran Duran

The Donnas

Rock 'N Roll [New York Dolls] {1994}

Anthology [Stiff Little Fingers] {2002}

Rancid

Presenting Electric Light Orchestra

Presenting The Beach Boys

Presenting Tom Petty

synthwave radio [Lofi Girl]

#sunday reading recap #bookgeekgrrl's reading habits #bookgeekgrrl's soundtracks #mossa & pleiti series #the mimicking of known successes #fanfic ftw #so my dropout tv 'bought-on-a-whim' subscription is really paying for itself #turns out these shows are *fantastic* for background for folding laundry and stuff like that but also highly addictive #i can never watch just one #20k hz podcast #you're dead to me podcast #atlas obscura podcast #vibe check podcast #vibecheckpod #into it podcast #shedunnit podcast #99% invisible podcast #switched on pop podcast #welcome to night vale #decoder ring podcast #ologies podcast #our opinions are correct podcast #the sporkful podcast #duran duran #the donnas #stiff little fingers #rancid #new york dolls #electric light orchestra #the beach boys