#apollo is on that show undercover boss

[yourthirdparent]

au where the demigods all work in some business and the gods are their higher-ups and luke was trying to unionise before he went missing under mysterious circumstances

#btw greek and roman gods are separate and zeus and jupiter are like coowners of the company that owns both the greek and roman halves #luke castellan #pjo #allfatherly guidance #and yes the greek/roman separation does mean that like thalia and jason would have different dads and nico and hazel wouldn't be siblings #you can find a way to work around it i believe in you #idk maybe the greek and roman aspects of each god are siblings so that'd put nico and hazel at cousins. that's good enough yeah? #sorry about all the tags rip #also the implications of jason switching to the greek side is so much funnier and so much more fucked up #like his stepmother beats the shit out of him to thr point he doesn't know who he is and sends him to volunteer at the greek side of things #idk do what you want with this #apollo is on that show undercover boss #fuck around #the greek/roman separation means beryl fucks zeus then fucks his brother which is both wtf and girlboss of her simultaneously

[bookloveravenue]

Dark Olympus (book 4): Radiant Sin by Katee Robert

There's nowhere more dangerous than Olympus...and no one more captivating than its golden god: Apollo. Keeper of secrets, master of his shining realm...and the only man I am powerless to deny.

*A scorchingly hot modern retelling of Apollo and Cassandra that's as sinful as it is sweet.*

As a disgraced member of a fallen house, Cassandra Gataki has seen firsthand what comes from trusting the venomous Thirteen. But when the maddeningly gorgeous and kind Apollo asks her to go undercover as his plus-one at a week-long party hosted by a dangerous new power player...Cassandra reluctantly agrees to have his back.

On one condition: when it's all over, and Apollo has the ammunition he needs to protect Olympus, she and her sister will be allowed to leave. For good.

Apollo may be the city's official spymaster, but it's his ability to inspire others that keeps him at the top. Despite what the rest of Olympus says, there's no one he trusts more than Cassandra. Yet even as their fake relationship takes a wicked turn for the scaldingly hot, a very real danger surfaces... threatening not only Cassandra and Apollo, but the very heart of Olympus itself.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60478017-radiant-sin

********

February 8, 2023

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Apollo and Cassandra have had feelings for one another for five years. But there are just a tad too many obstacles in their way to actually admit that. First off, Apollo is Cassandra's boss. He never wants to make her feel like he is taking advantage of her and Cassandra never wants to cross the line and be that person who is dating the boss. Then there is the fact that Cassandra hates everything about the Thirteen when her parents were killed by them. And with Apollo now part of them, she just can't stand the thought of getting closer with that group. All Cassandra wants is to take her sister far, far away from here. And she may finally get her chance. Zeus recruits Apollo and Cassandra to work together to attend Minos's weeklong part. It's time the leaders of Olympus find out exactly what Minos and his family are up to. Cassandra will be rewarded with money and a way out of Olympus if she succeeds. Apollo may not like bringing danger to Cassandra, but part of him is glad to have her at his side. It's time for these two to sort out not only their feelings for one another but solve the mystery that is Minos. Really loved this story! Cassandra and Apollo are a great pair. Their romantic chemistry is fantastic and they just work super well as a team. Both are very intelligent and know they have a better chance of finding out Minos's motives together. They'll just have to survive the parties. Lot of mystery and intrigue and with an ending that will change Olympus once again. Definitely looking forward to the next story!

#book #books #i love books #my review #book review #dark olympus #radiant sin #katee robert #apollo #cassandra

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Five: Work That Gameboy

By SisterSpooky1013 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Rated E / Read previous chapters here

Mulder arrives at work early, looking longingly at Scully’s car in the parking lot. Approaching it, he peers in the windows looking for…he isn’t sure what. Her car is, as usual, neat as a pin with no indication of where she went or why.

In his restlessness the night before, he’d thought a lot about why it bothers him so much not to know where she is or what she’s doing. If the roles were reversed, he would expect her to wait it out and trust him to take care of himself, but for some reason he’s struggling to do the same for her. He thought at first that it was her tendency to get hurt or need help, but by comparison he needs her help just as often as she needs his, so that doesn’t track. Then he thought maybe it’s that he doesn’t trust Skinner to do what’s in her best interest, but Skinner has shown a tendency to be protective of Scully on numerous occasions (and in fact Mulder strongly suspects his feelings for her go beyond the bounds of strict professionalism), so that isn’t entirely logical either. Skinner may have left him out to dry with the New Spartans, but he doesn’t believe the man would stoop low enough to treat Scully in the same manner.

In the end, he realized that it’s pretty simple; he’s just crazy about her. His protectiveness doesn’t have anything to do with how capable she is, or the situations other people might put her in, or even situations she might put herself in. He misses her, and cares so much about her that not even knowing where she is feels wrong. It feels like a piece of him is missing, and he’s not allowed to know where it is or when he’ll get it back.

After pretending to work for an hour, he sulks up to Skinner’s office and asks for a few minutes of his time. Skinner is immediately irritated, though Mulder doesn’t realize that it’s in response to him and not a preexisting condition. He stands in front of Skinner’s desk, looming over him.

“What do you want, Agent Mulder?” Skinner grumbles, not looking up from the document he’s reading.

“I’d like to know where Agent Scully is, sir.”

Skinner sighs heavily, dropping his head to his chest.

“Get out of my office, Agent Mulder,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

“Sir, I’m not asking to contact her, I would never compromise her case, I just need to at least know where she is. What if something happens and I need to find her?”

Skinner stands, looking Mulder in the eye with an intensity he’s seen on very few occasions, none of them fond memories. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully explicitly asked me not to tell you where she is, or what she’s doing. Even if she hadn’t, I STILL would not tell you, however I hope that if you don't respect the direct orders of your superior, you might, at the very least, respect Agent Scully’s wishes. Now get the hell out of my office and do not bring this up again, understood?”

Mulder glances down and notices Scully’s keys on the desk near Skinner’s nameplate, her Apollo 11 keychain easily identifiable. He leans forward, putting his hands on the desktop, one covering the keys.

“Sir, if anything happens to her, I’ll-“

“You’ll what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner challenges him, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a show of bravado.

Mulder straightens, palming the keys as he stands, and leaves without another word.

Scully arrives at the club just before 2 pm, wearing shorts and a tank top as Angel had instructed. After stuffing her purse into a locker, she finds Angel and Tibet on the floor, which has returned to its daylight state of clean and quiet. Queenie restocks the bar while Ben fiddles with the sound system.

Tibet is up on the stage while Angel sits at the tip rail, offering pointers on a new dance Tibet is working out. Scully immediately notices that Tibet’s hair is cropped short and worn in its natural curls, and realizes she’d been wearing a wig the night before.

“So I was thinking that I could either take my top off just before or just after the first chorus, tell me which looks better, okay?” Tibet says to Angel as Scully enters and takes a seat beside her.

“Benny! Hit me with the music!” Tibet shouts, and then repeats her performance twice, revealing her breasts at a different point in the song each time. When she’s finished, she sits down on the edge of the stage in front of them and asks for their thoughts, her breasts still uncovered.

“I think the sooner the better,” Angel says. “They come here to see your body, so show it to em!”

Tibet nods. “What do you think, Desi?” She asks, stretching a smooth brown leg out to her side and leaning into it.

Scully suddenly feels entirely out of her league in terms of providing an opinion. “Uh, well, generally speaking I guess I’d say wait. You want to build some suspense, right? Make them work for it?”

Angel looks at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t fuck on the first date, do you?” She asks with a haughty grin, and Scully’s eyes go big at the question. “I’m just messing with you, let’s get to your training!”

“Alright,” Tibet begins as though she’s done this dozens of times, tugging the straps of her shirt back over her shoulders. “So, have you ever given a lap dance before?” she asks plainly, and Scully’s cheeks flush.

“Well, kind of I guess. In college, though more as a joke than anything else. I would definitely consider myself a beginner.”

“Got it, got it,” Tibet responds. “Well, for the most part dancing is about creating a sense of intimacy. It’s fake, obviously, but the more your customer feels like you actually care about him, want him to look at you, like that he’s appreciating your body, the better you’ll do. Your stage set is just about showing yourself off and getting them curious about you. The real money comes from lap dances and VIP, and the more you can draw attention with a really great stage set, the more customers will want to spend time with you afterward. Angel is a beast on the pole and she can teach you all those tricks, but I consider myself the lap dance expert around here, so I’m gonna teach you that part.” She smiles and jumps down from the stage, pulling a chair away from one of the tables and gesturing for Scully to sit in it.

“Oh,” Scully says, and sits as instructed.

“Sometimes, when you’re on the floor, customers will flag you down or ask for you, and that’s great. But you also have to approach people, because they’ll be too shy to ask. So you might come up and do this.”

Tibet saunters towards Scully with a secretive smile on her lips, stepping so close that her thighs thread between Scully’s knees. Next she leans down, placing her hands on Scully’s shoulders and bringing her mouth to Scully’s ear.

“Would you like a dance, Baby?” she asks in a syrupy voice, and Scully feels a shiver run down her spine. Tibet backs up. “Okay, now you try.”

“You want ME to do that?” Scully clarifies, and while just asking someone if they want a lap dance should be the easiest hurdle to clear, she’s finding that it’s still an uncomfortably high one.

Angel turns her head toward the bar and calls out, “Queenie! We need some liquid courage over here!”

Queenie walks over with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses, pouring them wordlessly before returning to her task.

Angel holds her glass up, Tibet and Scully following suit. “To new career paths,” Angel says, and Scully smiles thinly, clinking her glass with theirs and throwing back the shot with a grimace.

Three weeks. She’s been gone three weeks, and not a word from Skinner. No update, no information, though he’s stopped by a couple times and asked, drawing increasing amounts of rage from his boss. He’s finished all the paperwork, re-organized the files, cleaned and rearranged the office (only to immediately change it back) and spent hours upon hours imagining where Scully might be right now.

He kept her keys, just in case, but knows she’d be unhappy with him invading her privacy by snooping around her apartment. That’s why he waits three whole weeks before he finally does it. He has a key to her apartment and could have gone there at any point, but her personal keyring also holds the keys for her gun safe and her mailbox, which may prove helpful. After work on a Thursday, he drives by and lets himself in, the warm vanilla smell of her immediately invading his nostrils as he opens the door. He sighs deeply, pulling her into his lungs; it feels like coming home.

First he waters her plants, which are looking half dead, and makes a mental note to use watering them as the reason he came here if asked. Next he opens her gun safe, and is struck to find her service weapon holstered and tucked neatly inside with the safety on. She doesn’t have her gun? What the hell kind of assignment is this? He brings in her mail, which is no help at all, and leaves it stacked on the counter. Next he lays down on her bed, shoving his face into her pillow and breathing the smell of her shampoo for a few minutes before he has the thought to look for her overnight bag.

Scully has a go bag in the trunk of her car for emergencies, but given the opportunity she’ll use her overnight bag and pack for the weather, situation, etc. Opening her closet, he finds it on the floor near her laundry hamper, empty save for a travel size can of hairspray tucked into a side pocket. In her bathroom, he finds all her toiletries accounted for, including her toothbrush. The more he sees, the more confused he is. Even when he’d spent time undercover with dangerous individuals, he’d been allowed to bring his own toothbrush.

Moving to the hallway, he picks up her landline and dials.

“Dana?” Maggie Scully’s voice answers on the second ring.

“No, sorry, Mrs. Scully, it’s Fox Mulder.”

“I saw Dana’s name on the caller ID, is she with you?” Her voice carries worry.

“No, I’m just here at her apartment watering her plants, sorry to confuse you. Have you been in touch with Dana, Mrs. Scully?”

“No, Fox, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She told me she had an assignment that would take her away for a while and that she’d be unreachable, but I’m a little concerned that she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mulder closes his eyes. “I wish I had anything to share, Mrs. Scully, but I’m in somewhat of the same boat. A.D. Skinner isn’t concerned and it does sound like he’s in touch with her, but I was hoping she might have called you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maggie replies sadly.

“What did she tell you when she left? Did she share any information at all?” he asks hopefully.

“Um, let me think. She said she was going on an assignment and that she’d be out of touch for a few weeks. And she said she’d bring me some Tastykakes when she comes home,” she adds.

“Tastykakes, what are those?” Mulder asks, his investigative senses tingling.

“They’re a treat we always get when we go to Philadelphia; little packaged snack cakes. The kids always loved them.”

“Are they only available in Philadelphia?” he asks, heart pumping.

“I’m not sure, but that’s where we always get them,” Maggie says hopefully.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully. That’s really helpful. I’ll let you know if I track her down, okay?”

“Thank you, Fox. Take care.”

Setting the phone back on its cradle, he does a little victory dance. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Scully is just a few hours away in the city of brotherly love.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks of practicing stage sets and lap dances in the afternoon, serving drinks in the evening and well into the middle of the night, and then sleeping until noon. Her arms and legs bear fading bruises from her acclimation to Paul the Pole, the crooks of her elbows and knees sporting slight calluses that help her get a good grip (with an assist from the grip powder Angel has instructed her to use). She’s given Tibet and Angel dozens of lap dances each, the other standing by to coach her on making sure one foot stays on the floor. After three weeks, she found that her barriers were mostly in her head. Once she was able to let go and just move, she’s actually pretty good at it.

That day she arrives in pink cotton shorts and a white tank top, now so used to being scantily clad that it no longer makes her self-conscious, and prepares to do a full dress rehearsal of the routine she worked up with Angel’s help. Queenie and Ricky sit down to observe what is more or less a test of her readiness, and one she intends to pass. Where she would have expected to feel nervous, she’s excited, ever the eager student motivated to impress and exceed expectations. Ben kills the daytime lights to make it look and feel like it would if they were open, and her set begins.

Moving onto the stage, she can barely see her audience with the bright lights trained on her. She quickly gets lost in the movements she rehearsed, feeling graceful as she circles the pole and hitches an arm around it, spinning in a feathery arc. When the point in the dance comes to remove her shirt, she does so as a well practiced step in a strategy, without any feelings of exposure. Soon enough her bra follows suit and she is left with only her tiny pink shorts, nipples hardening as they graze the pole. The undulation of her hips, the pop of her booty out towards the audience, the slip of a hand down the inside of her thigh; they’re each a part of the method. Precisely planned and executed in much the same way as she might dismantle and clean her gun, or prepare a slide for the microscope. It isn’t much different than performing an autopsy, she had reasoned. Except instead of: Y incision, open rib cage, remove organs, examine stomach contents, collect specimens, examine brain, it’s: arch back, grasp breasts, spread legs, thrust pelvis, rub thighs, grind on the pole. She’s always found her strength in taking a clinical, detached approach to difficult tasks, and that turns out to be just as effective on the stage as it is in the lab.

As she finishes, her small audience erupts into applause, standing in ovation as Ben brings the house lights up halfway. Scully smiles shyly, stepping down to join them on the floor as Ricky approaches her and slings an arm around her bare shoulders.

“That was fucking fantastic, Desi. Sexy as fuck. Let me see you do a lap dance now.”

Continue Reading

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #case file #case fic #x files fanfic

[hazelmariewrites]

The Inside Story

San Francisco, 1973 Lorraine Weston has had it with not being taken seriously as a journalist. When her boss turns down her idea for an undercover look into the cults following the Manson trials, she decides to pursue the story on her own. Will her tenacity lead to the perfect piece, or will it put her in grave danger?

TW: Violence, Murder

Word Count: 6,827

San Francisco, 1973

Now is not the time to take risks. 

 Lorraine Weston laughed and threw the fortune, along with the now broken cookie, into the trash bin next to her desk. She had never been one for superstition, so she wasn’t going to let some silly fortune cookie stop her plans to confront her boss.  Lorraine had been writing for the San Francisco Chronicle for two years. She had just graduated from the University of California with a degree in journalism when the job was offered to her, and she eagerly accepted. She regretted the decision as soon as she received her first assignment—“Ten Lesser Known Uses for Crisco”.

 The assignments never became any less demeaning, but Lorraine refused to give up. During this radical time for feminism, she took pride in her everyday fights against male chauvinism. Rather than quit her job and look for something better, she wanted to prove herself. The person to prove herself to was Bob Haney.

 Lorraine had just finished clearing away her lunch when Bob stormed through the front doors and stomped his way down the crowded hall where the journalists worked. Bob was a short, plump man, but he had a way of making people overlook this with his big actions. He took long strides, swinging his arms hard back and forth with each step. A cloud of cigarette smoke followed him everywhere he went. He was loud, as well. He demonstrated this as he called across the hall, “Lunch break’s over, folks! Back to work!”

 Lorraine saw past Bob’s façade. She was able to ignore his act and see instead the little things he missed, like his undone pants zipper and his nervous, erratic breathing. She wasn’t afraid of him like most of her colleagues. It was with confidence that she rose from her chair and followed him into his office.

 It was a small room, which Bob had seemed to fill with as much unnecessary furniture as he could. His desk was far too big, even for him. Two red velvet chairs sat facing it, with an orange sofa against the wall next to it, hardly used. Bookshelves, potted plants, and floor lamps were scattered throughout the rest of the room.

 “Hello, Mr. Haney,”

 Bob spun around, startled by Lorraine’s presence. “Christ, Lorraine,” he said, “Don’t call me that. You know I like to keep things cool around here. I’m just Bob.”

 “Absolutely, Bob,” Lorraine replied with a warm smile. “I was wondering if I could have just a moment of your time.”  Bob sighed, sitting down behind his desk. Lorraine pretended not to notice the way his chair creaked beneath him. “I suppose,” Bob replied, putting out the last bit of his cigarette in a glass ashtray, “but please make it quick. I’m a very busy man.” He gestured for Lorraine to sit in one of the velvet chairs, but she did not.

 “Maybe you already know this,” Lorraine began, “but I’ve been working for your newspaper for two years now, Bob. I’ve given you all I could in regards to the best dishes to serve at Christmas dinner, and which household cleaning techniques are timeless. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, but I’m not living up to my potential.”

 She paced the room as she spoke, maintaining eye contact with Bob, who seemed to be growing more uncomfortable the longer she spoke. He shifted in his seat, which cried out for help. 

“I’m done writing these puff pieces,” Lorraine concluded. “I’d like the opportunity to show you what I’m capable of.”

Bob pulled out another cigarette and lit it. “What do you want? Watergate?” he asked, the tone in his voice making it clear that he wasn’t offering. “I can’t put just anyone on Watergate, 

Lorraine. It’s a big deal. History in the making. We need the facts.”  

“I can give you the facts,” Lorraine shot back at him. “But I don’t want Watergate. I have my own idea in mind.”

 Bob raised his eyebrows as if to say, Let’s hear it. 

 “Cultists.”

 “Manson’s old news, man!” Bob laughed. He took a drag from his cigarette and blew out smoke as he spoke. “No one cares anymore.”

 Lorraine shook her head. “That’s not true. There have been reports of several copycat crimes in San Francisco, as well as other cult activities that seem to be unrelated to The Family. There is a subculture growing right under our noses, and I think our readers need to be warned. I want to show them how these people think. I want to go undercover.”

 Bob choked on his smoke. “No way,” he said once he finally caught his breath. “That is way too dangerous. Can’t risk it.”

“If it were a man bringing you this idea you wouldn’t think twice about it.”

 “Oh, don’t give me that feminist bullshit!” 

 Lorraine stood directly in front of Bob and placed both hands on his desk, leaning down so that she was eye level with him. “I can do this,” she said. “You’ll see.”

 She spun around and left his office, ignoring him as he called out for her.

 Lorraine began visiting local clubs and bars in hopes of finding her way in. She guessed that she wouldn’t have a lot of luck at the discos, so she mostly stuck to hole-in-the-wall places. 

It took almost a month, but her persistence paid off.

 She took notice of the young man because of the upside down cross scratched into his upper arm. She knew from her research that it was common for cultists to carve symbols into their skin. This, along with his long black hair and dark clothing, gave her hope.

 “Battle scar?” she asked, taking a seat next to him at the bar.

 He turned to her with indifference. “Something like that,” he replied.

 “My name’s Sheila,” Lorraine lied, extending her hand. The young man looked at it, but didn’t shake it.

 “Jeremy,” he said.

 “Nice to meet you,” Lorraine said, retracting her hand. She looked down at her striped turtleneck and blue jeans and wished she had worn something that might have impressed him. “So, what’s your story?”

 Jeremy sighed and took a long swig from his drink. “It’s a drag,” he replied. “I doubt you’d be able to make it through the whole thing.

 “Try me,” Lorraine said.

 Jeremy shook his head and laughed in a way that lacked humor. Lorraine knew she was about to miss her shot, so she called the bartender over. If there was one thing she’d learned about men in her lifetime, it was that nothing sweetened their moods better than alcohol. Before the bartender made it over, however, Jeremy stood up from his seat. 

“I’m getting out of here,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “It was nice meeting you, Sherry.”

 Lorraine tried to stop him, but failed. She was pretty sure he’d said her name wrong on purpose, which stung even when it wasn’t her real name. She ordered a drink for herself and had just taken her first sip when Jeremy’s abandoned seat was filled.

 “He looked like a total loser anyway.”

 Lorraine looked over and saw a petite girl with long blonde hair and a floral print dress. She made Lorraine feel a little less out of place.

 “Oh, yeah, I guess,” Lorraine said.

 “My name’s Amy,” the petite girl said.

 “I’m Sheila,” Lorraine said. Even if Amy wasn’t a part of Lorraine’s story, she didn’t want her real name getting around that particular scene.

 “So, Sheila,” Amy said, “what exactly attracted you to that guy? Was it the eyeliner?”

 Lorraine laughed and quickly thought of a lie. ���I just got out of a relationship, and I guess I just liked the fact that he’s nothing like my ex-boyfriend.”

 Lorraine expected sympathy from Amy, but instead she rolled her eyes and groaned. “Men are pigs, Sheila! They’re disgusting, they’re stupid, and they’re entitled.”

 Amy’s outburst took Lorraine by surprise. She let out a startled laugh.

 “Why are you laughing?” Amy asked. “You know I’m right. 

Have you ever heard of Margaret Hamilton?”  Lorraine shook her head.

 “Of course you haven’t. Margaret wrote the code that was used on Apollo. She put humanity on the moon, dude! But who gets all the glory? Those stupid assholes they sent out there!”  

“Wow,” Lorraine said, “I can’t believe I never knew that. Is that really true?”

 “Of course it is! Sheila, baby, there’s a whole world out there that men have hidden away to keep this illusion that they’re more powerful than we are.”

 Lorraine thought about this. She was ashamed that she didn’t know about Margaret Hamilton. She considered herself quite educated, and she genuinely did care about women’s rights. 

How had she let herself be fooled? 

 “I can see the disappointment on your face,” Amy said, placing her hand comfortingly on Lorraine’s back. “It’s okay. I was like you once. But then I met a group of women who changed me.”  

“Who are they?” Lorraine asked. Something about Amy’s intensity made her wonder if she was on the right track after all.  

“I like you, Sheila,” Amy laughed. “You’re very driven. I can take you to the girls and introduce you, but I can’t promise they’ll like you.”

 Lorraine decided go with Amy, although she had no clue where it might lead.

 Lorraine wasn’t expecting an hour and a half ride in Amy’s station wagon, but that was what she got. The drive was filled with Joni Mitchell’s music and Amy’s ranting. Lorraine remained uncharacteristically quiet until Amy pulled over and stopped the car.

 “Do you guys always hang out in the middle of nowhere?” Lorraine asked.

 “We like privacy,” Amy responded. She reached over into the glove compartment and pulled out a silk, paisley printed scarf. 

“Tie this around your eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

 “I can’t let you know where this place is until the girls have accepted you.”

 Lorraine took a deep breath and followed Amy’s order. She wondered if she’d trusted this stranger too quickly.

 “I’ll lead you, don’t worry,” Amy said. She got out of the car and went around to Lorraine’s door. Lorraine took her hand and followed nervously behind her into the woods. She stumbled along, feeling twigs snapping and rocks rolling beneath her feet. As they walked further she smelled the rich smoke of a large fire, and could begin to feel the heat as well. Then, she noticed voices.

 “Hey, it’s Amy!” came a soft female voice once they’d gotten closer.

 “I’m back,” she confirmed, “and I’ve brought someone with me.”

 Amy removed Lorraine’s blindfold, revealing the scene in front of her. She saw a small cabin, in front of it the large bonfire she had smelled, surrounded by two women and, surprisingly, one young man. One of the girls had short brown hair and wore a plaid button up with blue jeans. The other girl was olive skinned with long black hair in tight curls. She wore a knee length, lilac colored dress. The man was bare chested and wore a pair of blue jeans. None of them were wearing shoes.

“Sheila, these are my sisters, Alice and Katherine,” Alice said, pointing to the dark skinned girl and the brunette, respectively. “Tim over there is an honorary member of our group. A special friend.” She winked after the last comment.  

Lorraine said hello, hoping that her anxiety was passing as excitement. She was beyond thrilled to have lucked into the very situation she was searching for, but now that she was there she couldn’t help but get nervous. What if she messed it up?  The door to the cabin opened, and out walked the most beautiful woman Lorraine had ever seen. She was tall, with dark red hair that fell down in soft waves to her waist, which was curved like a pear. She wore a long white gown and, like the others, no shoes. Lorraine thought that the woman’s feet looked more clean that everyone else’s.

 “Welcome home, Amy,” the woman said with a voice that was somehow both soft and compelling. “Who is your friend?”  

“Her name is Sheila,” Alice answered. “She’s seen the truth and is ready to learn more of her power as a woman.”  

Lorraine hoped the group didn’t notice how profusely she’d begun to sweat. She needed to impress them so she could learn more.

 “Hello Sheila,” the woman said. “My name is Veronica. 

I’m pleased that you’re able to join us.”

 “Th-thank you,” Lorraine stuttered, blood rushing to color her face.

 “As you can see, we’re a very selective group of people. We worship our mother goddess, Athena, and make sure to exclude the unworthy from our practices. She deserves only the most devoted. Do you think you could devote yourself entirely to the mother goddess?”

 Lorraine’s heart pounded. She’d been imagining this scenario for weeks, but she still felt unprepared. She was about to join a real cult—but she knew it would be worth it.

 “Yes. . . Yes, of course I could.”

 Veronica smiled. “Alice, Katherine,” she said, “take Tim into the cabin. Amy and I need a moment alone with our new friend.” The girls complied, draping themselves over Tim in a way that made Lorraine consider the meaning of ‘special friend’.  

“Come, let’s sit by the fire,” Veronica suggested. She took the sole chair, leaving Amy and Lorraine to sit on the ground.

 “Tell us about yourself, Sheila,” Veronica said.

 Lorraine thought about whether or not she should tell the truth. She didn’t want them to know too much about her, but this was also her first time going undercover and she didn’t want to get caught in a lie.

 “Well, I’m twenty-three years old. No husband. No kids.”  “That’s good!” Amy said. “You’re a smart woman. You’re independent.”

 “What do you do for a living?” Veronica asked.

 “I’m. . . a writer.”

 “A writer? What do you write?”

 “Oh, um. . . Just silly things.”

 “Silly according to whom?” Veronica’s mouth pursed into a look of 

disapproval. “You should take pride in your work, no matter what it may be.”

 Lorraine knew she had to lie at this point, obviously. There was no telling what they would do to her if they knew she was a journalist.

 “I write children’s books,” she said. “But I haven’t had much luck getting published, so I waitress to pay the bills.”

 “Children’s books?” Amy said with a scoff. “You can’t do better than that? You’re proving everyone right who says women are just here to nurture!”

 “Amy,” Veronica hissed, glaring at her underling. Amy’s eyes widened for a moment before she hung her head sullenly.  “There’s nothing wrong with what you do,” Veronica continued, reaching down to run her hand softly over Lorraine’s hair. Lorraine loved the feeling. “You’re a creative woman fighting to make ends meet because you refuse to give up on your passion. It’s commendable. Amy just gets a little too excited sometimes.”

 “Oh, that’s okay,” Lorraine said. “She was just speaking her mind. That’s good, right?”

 Veronica glanced at Amy over her shoulder. “Around here we like to use our brains first. Right, Amy?”

 Amy nodded quietly. The interaction didn’t sit well with Lorraine. She hoped that she would be able to deal with Veronica’s icy exterior if it were ever directed at her.

 Veronica smiled, and it was like a switch had been flipped, changing her persona back to the warm, inviting one she’d begun with. “Let’s go inside, shall we?” she suggested. “We can show Sheila where she’ll be sleeping.”

 Lorraine followed Veronica and Amy to the cabin, noting that Amy seemed to be slowly cheering back up. The cabin seemed bigger from the inside, mostly because there was very little furniture. There was a black leather couch and matching armchair in what Lorraine supposed was the living room, and a small card table in the adjoining kitchen. The place reeked of pot and there was quite a bit of garbage strewn everywhere.  

Veronica and Amy led Lorraine through the room to a small hallway with two doors. Upon opening one they found Alice, 

Katherine, and Tim mostly naked on one of four twin sized beds. Lorraine realized that her earlier assumption about Tim’s role in the group was right. He grabbed his jeans and fumbled to get them back on as Alice laughed and Katherine pouted.

“Man, things were just getting started,” Katherine whined. 

“There will be plenty of time for that later,” Veronica assured her, patting Tim on the head. “Right, Timothy?” 

Tim’s mouth opened and closed a few times, wordless, before he nodded quietly. Alice, still wearing nothing but her white cotton panties, rose from the bed and put an arm around Lorraine’s shoulders. 

“So, are we getting a new sister?” she asked. Lorraine was about to embrace her undercover alias and confirm enthusiastically, but Veronica spoke first.

 “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said. “Sheila has to prove herself, just like everyone else did.”

Lorraine’s stomach dropped. “What do I have to do?” she asked.

 “We’ll discuss that later,” Veronica replied. “You must be exhausted. You can sleep in Tim’s bed tonight, and one of the girl’s will share her bed with him.”

 “I’ll do it!” Katherine volunteered cheerfully.

Amy stomped over to where Tim was sitting and yanked him off the bed forcefully. “I’m the only one who hasn’t had him tonight,” she said. “It’s only fair that he sleeps with me.”

Katherine rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. As everyone took to their beds Lorraine realized with dread that Tim’s was the bed they had just been using.

“Okay everyone, be sure to thank your mother goddess before you fall asleep,” Veronica said as she was about to turn out the light.

 “Wait, can I use the restroom?” Lorraine asked.  “Unfortunately, there is only one bathroom in the cabin, and I don’t share it,” Veronica said. “Everyone else goes outside at the edge of the woods. There’s a flashlight by the door.”

Lorraine thanked her and headed through the cabin, grabbing the flashlight on her way. She marched quickly out to the woods and made sure no one had followed her before pulling out the small notebook and pencil she’d been keeping in her pocket. She placed her flashlight on the ground so she could write.

October 5, 1973

  After weeks of searching, I’ve finally found the subjects of my story. There are five of them—Veronica, Amy, Alice, Katherine, and Tim—and they live in a cabin in God-knows-where. I’m going to have a hell of a time getting out of here when this is all over. Veronica is obviously the Manson of the group. Everyone else grovels at her feet. She has her own bedroom and bathroom while everyone else must share a room and use the bathroom in the woods— and they all seem happy to let her have these privileges! I need to find out how long this has been going on, and why Veronica has so much power.

 Lorraine put her notes away and headed back to the cabin, anxious about what would happen in the following days but sure that she needed to follow through with what she had started.

 The next morning Lorraine woke up to a crushing blow to the ribs. All the air was knocked from her lungs and she struggled to refill them as Amy squirmed around on top of her.

 “Good morning, new sister!” she shouted, raising her arms in the air to expose her unshaved armpits. Lorraine tried not to stare at them—or at her breasts, as she was not fully clothed.  

“You heard what Veronica said,” Alice reminded her, rolling over in her bed to face them.

“Oh please, getting accepted is the easiest thing,” Amy said, finally sliding off of Lorraine’s chest. Lorraine took a deep breath before tossing her blanket aside.

 Amy let out a loud, monosyllabic laugh. “You slept in your clothes?”

 “Well, I didn’t have anything else,” Lorraine replied. She watched in surprise as Alice yawned and sat up, revealing that she was completely nude. Lorraine felt her face heating up as she looked over at Amy’s bed and realized that Tim was naked as well.

 Amy reached into a drawer and pulled out a white ball of fabric. “Here,” she said, tossing it to Lorraine. “You need to get comfortable.”

 Lorraine held it up to see that it was a cotton dress that was very much see-through. She reluctantly stood up and changed, turning her back to everyone as if they wouldn’t be able to see her body through the dress once she got it on. She hid her pencil and notes in the waistband of her underwear while Amy, Alice, and Tim took turns going to the dresser and getting their own clothes.

 “So where is Katherine?” Lorraine asked, suddenly noticing her absence.

 “It’s her turn to make breakfast,” Alice replied, opening the bedroom door. She inhaled deeply through her nose. “Smells like waffles!”

 Lorraine followed everyone into the kitchen where Katherine was indeed making waffles.

 “Good morning!” Amy said, kissing Katherine hard on the cheek. She was definitely the most cheerful of the group.

 Katherine turned around and shushed her. “Chill out, Veronica’s still asleep. You’ll wake her.”

 Lorraine took a seat at the small card table with everyone else. “So, what’s next for me?” she asked.

 “That’s up to Veronica,” Katherine said, laying out a plate stacked high with waffles before taking the final seat. “She’ll find a way for you to prove your loyalty.”

 “What did she make you guys do?” Lorraine asked, waiting for everyone else to fill their plates before she grabbed a couple of waffles for herself. Amy passed around a bottle of syrup. 

 “Oh, we can’t tell you that,” Alice said. “At least, not until you’re officially one of us.”

 “Well, what about your history? How did you all come together?” 

 The girls all looked around at each other and Tim stared down at his waffles as he chewed slowly. Lorraine worried that she might be asking too many questions, but finally Alice spoke up.

  “Well, Veronica started it all,” she said. “She was married to a fascist pig who beat her a lot. Finally she got sick of it and left him to live out here on her own.”

 “She’s so brave,” Amy said, and everyone nodded in agreement. “She has such a strong, powerful mind. She came out here and she had all these brilliant breakthroughs about male-dominated societies and how if more women could just get out here like she did, away from it all, they would realize that we’re the true leaders and we’ve been suppressed all along because men are so afraid of losing their control over us.”

 “She found me first,” Katherine said. “It must have been about two years ago. I was in such a bad place. I was selling myself on the streets to buy dope. I was fucked up, man. But then Veronica found me and brought me here. She helped me come down from the drugs through meditation. It was tough, but she got me through it. Now I just do psychedelics—pot and shrooms, you know? It was just us for a little while, until I found Alice.”

 Alice smiled and took Katherine’s hand. “Katherine overheard me getting torn into by my boss at the park one day,” she said. “I was a nanny for his little boy, who was just as rotten as he was. I turned my back for only a moment and the kid had fallen off the swings and smacked his head on the ground. I couldn’t take it, so I yelled right back at the son of a bitch and he fired me. I guess Katherine liked my spirit. Then a few months later I brought Amy home.” 

 “I’m so grateful that she did,” Amy cut in. “I was living with my parents and it was such a drag. They thought that because I was only sixteen that they should get to control my whole life. Especially my dad. He never let me go anywhere except for church and school because he thought I was going to come home stoned or knocked up. Lucky for me he wasn’t very smart so I was able to sneak out when he was asleep. I was going to concerts every weekend, and that’s how I met Alice. I’ve been here for about five months, so it was my turn to go out and find a new sister!”

 Amy grinned at Lorraine before taking a huge bite of her waffles. Lorraine swallowed hard, fighting to hide her shock at Amy’s story. She was very energetic, but Lorraine never would have thought that she was so young. The poor girl was kidnapped and didn’t even know it.

 “What about you, Tim?” Lorraine asked. He hadn’t said a single word the whole time Lorraine had been with them, and she was starting to suspect that he wasn’t allowed to. He looked up at her with wide eyes.

 “After Alice came along we decided that we needed to practice our dominance,” Katherine answered for him. “Plus, we needed to embrace our sexuality. We brought a few guys out here but we only wanted to keep one, at least for now.”

 Alice leaned in close to Lorraine. “Tim had the biggest cock, that’s why we chose him.”

 Tim’s face turned red as he choked on his food. The girls all laughed.

 “If you’re trying to practice being dominant, why do you have a leader?” Lorraine asked, immediately regretting it as the girls all gave her the same cold stare.

 “What do you mean?” Katherine asked, her voice stern.  “Well, it just seems like Veronica treats you all the same way the men in your lives did.”

 No one moved or spoke. With all the girls still watching her, Lorraine felt pressed to continue.

 “Why should anyone be dominant, anyway? Why can’t we all just be in control of ourselves and no one else?”

 “Veronica isn’t dominating us,” Katherine snapped. “She’s guiding us. She’s earned her place as the head of the household, and we respect her because of it.”

 There was a creak in the floor and as she turned, Lorraine realized that Veronica had been listening—and she had no idea for how long. She struggled to find words, but Veronica spoke first.

  “Come, Sheila. Follow me.”

 Lorraine nervously rose from the table and followed 

Veronica out of the cabin. She was led to the opposite end of the woods as she’d gone the night before, and not far into the trees there was a small shrine.

 “It’s okay to be curious about our intentions,” Veronica said once they reached the shrine. “I understand why you think that equality should be our goal, but I think that if you spend some time with our mother goddess you’ll realize that women are naturally superior and that we’ve been held back long enough.” Veronica knelt in front of the shrine, so Lorraine did the same. There was a one foot tall statue of Athena surrounded by various candles and crystals. Veronica struck a match and lit the candles.

 “I’ll let you be alone,” she said, standing back up. “Come join us inside when you’ve decided if you think you belong here.”

 Lorraine waited until Veronica was back inside the cabin before pulling out her notebook and pencil.

October 6, 1973

 Well, I got some answers. It seems that Veronica started seeking out followers after leaving an abusive husband. What surprises me the most is that she started out doing something good—she helped Katherine give up dope. Or maybe Katherine was just easy pickings because she was so drugged up. I can see why these girls were brainwashed so easily. Katherine was shooting dope, Alice had just lost her job, and Amy was only sixteen!

Somewhere out there her parents are going mad looking for her. Hopefully I can track them down after I leave this place. I’m still not sure how Tim got dragged into this mess, but I’m sure the promise of endless sex had something to do with it. Now I have to go back inside and convince them that I’m on board so that I can find out what it takes to become one of them. Then, hopefully, I’ll have my story.

 Lorraine tucked away her notes and blew out the candles before going back to the cabin. Inside everyone sat at the table, waiting. 

 “Well, did the mother goddess speak to you?” Veronica asked.

 “Yes, she did,” Lorraine answered, standing before them. “I see now that I was wrong, and I’m ashamed that I’ve let myself be put down by the man for so long. I have so much potential, as all women do. If you’ll have me, I would love the opportunity to learn from you.”

 Lorraine hoped that she sounded genuine. Katherine, Amy, Alice, and Tim all watched Veronica, waiting along with Lorraine for her response. Finally, she stood and walked over to Lorraine. 

She placed her hands on Lorraine’s shoulders.

 “You have so much to learn,” she said. “You’re lucky you found us.”

 The girls all cheered. Lorraine’s shoulders sagged with relief.

 “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

 “You’ll find out tonight,” Veronica said. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise. Alice, will you go and get what we need?”

  Alice hopped up from the table. “Of course,” she said, and then she left the cabin.

 “I don’t expect her back until late,” Veronica said. “Until then you can help the others with the chores. I’ll be in my room, meditating to prepare for tonight.”

 As Lorraine helped clean the dishes she hoped that she could do what they asked of her, and that it would make a good story.

Lorraine ran her hands down the black silk dress she’d been given to wear during the ceremony. Night had fallen, and Alice was expected back at any moment, so everyone was busy preparing. Lorraine’s dress clung to her body, so she decided to hide her notes—which she’d been adding to all day—under Tim’s mattress.

 “How’s it going?” Amy asked as she entered the room. A smile quickly spread across her face. “Man, that dress was made for you!”

 Lorraine smiled at the compliment. She’d spent her whole life trying to be seen as a strong, powerful woman, so she rarely wore dresses. If there was one thing she would personally take away from her experience, it would be that she could still be strong while allowing herself to be a bit more feminine.

 “You’re going to do great,” Amy said. “I can feel it. There’s this energy radiating from you, and I can tell that you’ll do anything to get what you want. This trial will be a piece of cake.”

 As if on cue, Alice arrived in the doorway. “Alright, everything’s ready,” she said, taking Lorraine’s hand. She placed a pill in her palm. “This’ll take the edge off, make what you’re about to do a little easier. Just remember that you’re taking back what’s rightfully yours.”

 Lorraine had no idea what the pill was. She popped it into her mouth but didn’t swallow. She followed Alice and Amy outside, where the bonfire was burning bright again. While no one was looking, she let the pill fall out of her mouth and onto the ground. 

Once they got closer to the fire she saw that Veronica and Katherine were waiting, but Tim wasn’t there. She thought that he must be excluded because he’s not an official member. She made a mental note of this for her story.

 “Welcome,” Veronica said, holding out her arms. She was wearing the same gown as Lorraine, but in red. “Let us begin.”

 Amy and Alice joined Katherine at Veronica’s side, leaving Lorraine to stand alone, facing them. Veronica began with a general prayer to Athena, and then spoke about Lorraine.

 “Mother Goddess, this young woman has come to us in need of guidance. She has much to learn, but much potential. Reach out to her, and if she is worthy, let her show us through her actions here tonight.”

 She stopped and remained silent for a moment. Lorraine was beginning to wonder if she was supposed to say something next when she heard a sound from the woods. She couldn’t quite make it out at first, but as it got closer she clearly recognized the sound of muffled screaming. She turned and saw Tim emerge from the trees, dragging a body behind him. Lorraine’s heart sped up.

 “Sheila, Amy tells me you’ve met this young man,” 

Veronica said. As Tim pulled the man closer, Lorraine realized that it was Jeremy—the man from the bar. Amy smiled next to Veronica, but her eyes looked worried and frightened as if she hadn’t known this was the plan.

 “Uh, yes,” Lorraine said, “I mean—sort of.”

 Tim let go of Jeremy, but his hands and feet were tied so that he couldn’t get up. He thrashed around wildly.

 “You approached him and he rejected you, correct?” Veronica asked.

 Lorraine nodded, staring down at Jeremy in horror. She had no idea it would come this far. Technically Amy was kidnapped, but she’d come here of her own free will. This was so much worse. Why had they brought him here? How could she help him without compromising the story?

 “Sounds like he needs to learn his place,” Veronica continued. “Tim has been a good boy, but with you joining us I’m afraid there won’t be enough of him to go around. So, tonight you’re going to help us welcome Jeremy to our home.”

  She reached down and picked up a long stick, then lit it with the bonfire. She handed it to Lorraine. “Burn him. Not enough to kill him, but enough that really hurts. We have to break his spirit.”

 Everyone watched and waited. Lorraine looked down at Jeremy, who was looking back at her with pleading eyes. His face was covered in sweat and dirt. It felt surreal to see him like this, so different than he’d been the night before. It occurred to Lorraine that if she had swallowed the pill she’d been given, its effect might have tempted her to go through with it. The sense of power was overwhelming. But her mind was clear, and she was strong.

 “I can’t do that,” she said, throwing the stick into the fire. Amy gasped, Alice shut her eyes in disappointment, and Katherine glared through Lorraine. Veronica tilted her chin upward.

 “I thought you wanted to take control,” she said. “This is how you do that.”

 “No, it’s not,” Lorraine argued. “If I do this, I’m giving up control to you. I don’t care about having control over some random guy—an innocent man. I care about having control over myself.”

 Veronica smiled sadly and turned around, her movements hidden by the shadows of the fire. “You heard her, Tim.”

 Tim quickly grabbed Lorraine’s arms and held them behind her back. Veronica turned back around, wielding a large knife. Lorraine immediately started fighting to free herself, but Tim was much stronger than her.

 “Wait, maybe we can talk to her,” Amy said, grabbing 

Veronica’s arm. Veronica pushed her off, slicing Amy’s hand in the process. Amy cried out and fell to the ground.

 “She’s made her decision, and so has Athena,” Veronica replied. Katherine and Alice stood behind her quietly as she moved toward Lorraine.

 As Lorraine fought against Tim’s hold on her, she felt his sweaty hands losing their grip. She slammed her head back against his face as hard as she could and he stumbled backward, finally losing her completely.

Veronica screamed and lunged at Lorraine, but Lorraine jumped out of the way. Her victory was short lived, though, as Katherine and Alice pinned her to the ground in the next moment.

 “Stop, please, I won’t tell anyone,” Lorraine screamed, knowing that it was hopeless. She tried to think of a way out, but she couldn’t move and Veronica had gotten up and was standing over her with the knife. Her hair was messy and her dress was covered in dirt—her perfect image gone.

 “This is for Athena,” she said, raising the knife. Lorraine wanted to shut her eyes, but she couldn’t. She watched helplessly, screaming desperately—but before Veronica could plunge the knife into her, Tim came up from behind and struck her in the head with a rock.

 Veronica crumpled to the ground and Tim jumped straight to Alice. “You fucking bitches!” he shouted, his hands tight around 

Alice’s throat. “I can’t take this anymore!”

 Katherine jumped up to help Alice, freeing Lorraine. 

Lorraine grabbed Veronica’s knife and stood on wobbly legs. Katherine looked up at her and screamed in anger. She abandoned Alice to attack Lorraine, and the knife slid into Katherine’s abdomen. She fell to the ground next to Veronica.

 Lorraine looked over at Tim, who stood over Alice’s dead body—her neck snapped. They watched each other silently for a moment before Tim darted off into the woods. Lorraine looked back down at Katherine. She wasn’t dead, but she would be.

  Jeremy’s muffled screams caught Lorraine’s attention again. She knelt down and pulled the tape off his mouth and then used the knife to cut him free. “There’s still one more!” he cried, pointing behind Lorraine. Lorraine turned around to see Amy curled up on the ground, sobbing. 

 “I’m so sorry,” she cried. Lorraine rushed over and pulled her to her feet. In her frightened state Amy seemed much more her age.

 “It’s okay Amy, I’m going to get you home,” Lorraine said. 

“Where are the keys to the car?”

 “In Veronica’s room,” Amy answered, her body still shaking. “I’m so sorry, I never knew they would do something like this. When I joined they made me kill a rabbit, that’s it!”

 “It’s okay, just wait here,” Lorraine told her before turning back to Jeremy. “Watch her, I’ll be right back.”

 Jeremy seemed hesitant, but he didn’t argue. Lorraine ran into the cabin and through it to Veronica’s bedroom. There was a queen sized bed and a television set, which didn’t particularly surprise Lorraine. She spotted the car keys on the bedside table and grabbed them, then rushed to the other bedroom. She grabbed her notes from under Tim’s mattress and considered changing out of the ripped, filthy dress, but Jeremy and Amy were waiting for her so she didn’t. She met them outside and they made the walk to the highway where the car was still sitting.

 “Can you drive?” Lorraine asked, tossing Jeremy the keys.  “I don’t even know where the fuck we are,” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat.

 “Neither do I,” Lorraine said. She got into the back seat with Amy so that she could console her. “Just follow the signs back to the city and go straight to the police station.”

 Ten minutes later Amy had cried herself to sleep. Lorraine pulled out her notes and wrote as fast as she could, filling up most of book with the story of this twisted group of girls and their warped sense of women’s empowerment. When they reached the city the sun was coming up and everyone was beginning their work days.

 “Wait, can we make a stop first?” Lorraine asked. Jeremy looked back at her like she was insane. “It’ll be quick, I promise,” she said.

 He let her out in front of the Chronicle’s front doors and she assured him again that she would be right out before rushing upstairs. The hall was already bustling with busy workers trying to get the next issue. Lorraine was about halfway across the hall when everything started slowing down. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, and she’d caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window as she’d entered so she couldn’t blame them. She reached Bob’s door and stormed through it without knocking.

  “What the fuck,” Bob yelled, spinning around in his chair. He was on the phone, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looked Lorraine up and down and quickly put the cigarette out. “I’m going to have to call you back later, man,” he said, hanging up his phone. “Lorraine, baby, what the hell happened to you?”

 Lorraine walked up to his desk and slammed her notes down. 

“Just read it,” she said. “I’m going to be tied up for a while, but you can get someone else to tidy up any errors. The content is there, and it’s good.”

 “What exactly am I reading?” he asked wearily, picking up the notes.

 “The inside story,” she answered.

#stories #short story #historical fiction #thriller #horror #psychological horror #rachel greenwood #cult #manson #writeblr #writeblr community #the inside story

[tvrundownusa]

tvrundown USA 2022.04.01

Friday, April 1st: ** Happy don't-be-a Fools Day **

(exclusive): The Boarding School: Las Cumbres (amazon, season 2 available, all 8 eps), The Outlaws (amazon, comedy-thriller series stateside premiere, all 6 eps), Love Me (hulu, drama premiere, all 6 eps), Doug Unplugs (apple+, season 2B available, next 6 eps), Get Organized with The Home Edit (netflix, season 2 available, all 8 eps), The Last Bus (netflix, family sci-fi comedy premiere, all 10 eps), Tomorrow (netflix, Korean fantasy series premiere, contd tomorrow)

(movies): "Better Nate Than Ever" (dsn+, musical comedy adventure premiere), "The Bubble" (netflix, Judd Apatow comedy feature, ~2hrs), "Captain Nova" (netflix, Dutch family sci-fi, 85mins), "Forever Out of My League" (netflix, Italian rom-com, 105mins), "Battle: Freestyle" (netflix, Norwegian hip-hop romance drama, ~90mins), "Apollo 10 1/2: A Space Age Childhood" (netflix, animated drama, ~100mins), "Celeb Five: Behind the Curtain" (netflix, Korean comedians mockumentary)

(streaming weekly): Slow Horses (apple+, British spy drama series premiere, first 2 eps), Pachinko (apple+), WeCrashed (apple+), Severance (apple+, penultimate), Central Park (apple+, penultimate), The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey (apple+, penultimate), Ruxx (HMax), One True Singer (HMax, Romanian competition premiere, first 2 eps), The Informant (HMax, Hungarian teen thriller 'a besúgó' premiere, first 2 eps)

(also new): "Thrills and Quills: The Making of Sonic the Hedgehog 2" (NICK special), "Dangerous Methods" (LMN original movie, 2hrs), Jerrod Carmichael: "Rothaniel" (HBO, stand-up comedy special)

(hour 1): Undercover Boss (CBS), Charmed (theCW), The Blacklist (NBC), Shark Tank (ABC), Raven's Home (disney), RuPaul's Drag Race (VH1, 90mins)

(hour 2): Magnum P.I. (CBS), Dynasty (theCW), RuPaul's Drag Race (VH1, contd) /   / Untucked (VH1), The UnXplained (HIST, season 3B opener, 2hrs)

(hour 3): Blue Bloods (CBS), Real Time with Bill Maher (HBO), The UnXplained (HIST, contd), The Amber Ruffin Show (Peacock)

(hour 4 - latenight): Back on the Record with Bob Costas (HBO, monthly sports talk)

#BobCostas #TheUnXplained #television

[nofomoartworld]

Crocheted Cowboys, Nature Nudes, and Elmo Wind Chimes: 9 Highlights from the Dallas Art Fair

Having spent a lot of time in mid-size American cities as of late, I posit the question: is there a corner of our United States where artists aren't fostering vibrant, exciting communities and doing vital, challenging work? Deep in the heart of Texas, at the Dallas Art Fair, that city's creative class was on resplendent display for members of the arts industry flown in from places as predictable as New York and Paris, and as unexpected as Puerto Rico, Dubai, and Guadalajara. 

The 2017 fair had the tastefully-assembled panache of The Armory Show or Art Basel, with works by Juergen Teller and Catherine Opie among the heavy-hitters. But it was the fair's relatively small size, the presence and openness of artists, and supplementary studio visits and fetes thrown by local institutions that fostered an intimate, convivial vibe. The by-no-means exhaustive list below highlights artists from all over, but the Dallas scene deserves some extra shine: Arthur Peña's kaleidoscopic paintings mine the artist's emotional landscape. Michelle Rawlings excavates memory and identity through painted, collaged, sculptural works. Studio-mates and frequent collaborators Jeff Gibbons, Jesse Morgan Barnett, and Greg Ruppe dream up esoteric, gritty, musical artworks that defy categorization and even documentation. (One of their projects last year involved inviting the Dallas arts community to a mysterious, one-off game of laser tag.)

Dallas is establishing itself as a hotbed for art, turning what most people think about the city—oil money, Lee Harvey Oswald, the Cowboys—on its head. The Dallas Art Fair is at the forefront of spreading the word in that regard, and these were a few of our favorite works on view:

1. Nina Chanel Abney at Night Gallery

Nina Chanel Abney Untitled, 2017 Diptych, acrylic on two panels 110 x 52 in. Images are courtesy of Night Gallery

Few works on display were as viscerally arresting as Nina Chanel Abney's diptych of bold paintings confronting race and power in America. For her senior thesis show at Parsons in 2007, the artist painted herself as a white, gun-toting prison guard and her classmates, who are all white, as black inmates wearing orange jumpsuits, commenting on both the lack of diversity in academia as well as the overwhelmingly African-American prison population in the US. Her subsequent work is equally vital and searing.

2. Jonathan Rajewski at Reyes Projects

Installation view of Jonathan Rajewski's work in the Reyes Gallery booth. Photo by Daniel Driensky

I'll be honest: I didn't expect Garfield and Elmo wind chimes to be this dynamic, but Detroit-based artist Jonathan Rajewski's playful mobiles fixed me in their googly muppet eyes and handily dispatched my assumptions. The artist was showing work in the booth of newly-minted Michigan gallery Reyes Projects, whose debut exhibition Undercover Boss opens April 21.

3. Derek Fordjour at Luce Gallery

Derek Fordjour, 'No. 73,' 2017 and 'What will you do to help us Win?' 2017. Courtesy the artist and Luce Gallery

Born in Memphis, TN to parents of Ghanian heritage, Derek Fordjour was one of the artists selected by the Dallas Art Fair Foundation Acquisition Program, which chooses a handful of works from the fair each year to join the Dallas Art Museum's permanent collection. His nuanced, textural paintings and sculptures are literally multilayered; words on yellowed pages peek out beneath the paint. He's an artist of unique perspective, and certainly one to watch.

4. Emmanuel Van der Auwera's Study for Shudder VideoSculpture XIV

"Study for Shudder" VideoSculpture XIV, 2017. Courtesy of the artist and Harlan Levey Projects

This work stopped me in my tracks and made me WOL—"Woah" out loud. What looks like a blank white screen, on further inspection, reveals itself to be a coded video message discernible only when viewed in reflection upside down.

5. Caroline Wells Chandler at Roberto Paradise

Caroline Wells Chandler's crocheted cowboys and other motifs of the American West were sprinkled throughout this San Juan-based gallery's booth. The characters' goofy, 8-bit grins and technicolor skin belie the work's progressive take on the classic cowboys-and-indians motif. They present a sex-positive, intersectional version of themes heretofore whitewashed by the patriarchy.

6. Jakub Nepras at Waldburger Wouters

Jakub Nepras, Meadow, 2012, video sculpture, plexiglass, natural stones, 4min30s/loop. Courtesy the artist and Waldburger Wouters

The Brussels-based gallery's entire booth was dedicated to the work of Jakub Nepras, a Czech multimedia artist whose video collages projected on unexpected surfaces, like painted drywall and plexiglass embedded with stones, dissect commerce, human interactions, and the flow of energy.

7. Maryam Eisler's Eurydice in Provence and Searching for Eve in the American West

Maryam Eisler, Odina (Mountain), 2015. Giclée print, 112 x 79 cm, edition of 8 plus 2 artist's proofs. Courtesy Tristan Hoare

Maryam Eisler's black-and-white photographs of nudes in arid landscapes are damn sexy. The contrast of smooth flesh and coarse stone is reminiscent of Bernini's textural masterpiece, Daphne and Apollo. Born in Iran but now based in London, Eisler's striking compositions are inspired by mythology and its application to reality. With two series on view in Dallas, the photographer imbued the proceedings with a welcome dose of divine feminine energy.

8. Jose Dávila and Jorge Méndez Blake at Travesia Cuatro

Installation view of Travesia Cuatro's booth. Photo by Daniel Driensky

First off, Travesia Cuatro, a gallery with outposts in both Madrid and Guadalajara, wins for exuding chic minimalist vibes the entire fair. Their carefully considered selections highlighted four Mexican artists with work exploring themes of physics, literature, and psychology. Jorge Méndez Blake's Dearest Max, My Last Request is a meditation on Kafka's dying wish for all his unpublished manuscripts to be burned. (That request was ignored.) And in Jose Dávila's Joint E ort, a concrete block balances at a precarious angle, tethered by a stone and precise geometry.

9. Summer Wheat's Bread Winners

Summer Wheat, Bread Winners, 2017. Acrylic on aluminum mesh, 144 x 68 in. Courtesy of the artist and Fridman Gallery

Another Dallas Art Fair acquisition, Summer Wheat's Bread Winners is an accomplishment of experimental figurative painting. The Oklahoma artist's unconventional aesthetic, achieved by pushing layers of acrylic paint through a mesh screen, appears fiber-like, almost like a carpet or tapestry.

What were your favorite works at the Dallas Art Fair? Let us know on Twitter: @CreatorsProject

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[yoongishandholder]

There’s a lot more but I have to leave twenty minutes ago and my hands hurt from typing this. In conclusion, women are bomb af man.

This Women’s Day, I wanted to do more than just post a picture of my momma, nana, and sisters. I wanted to really think about and recognize all of the women who inspire me to be the best version of myself. Without further ado, these are those women:

-Obviously my momma. She birthed me and three other kids. She went through and still does go through a lot and she managed to dust herself off and power forward. I love you, momma.

-My nana and my grammy. They were raised in a time where women were thought of as a heck of a lot less than they are now. Still, they grew up to be bamfs in their own ways, like raising a whole lot of kids.

-My big sissy. She also went through and is still going through a lot, and she also is a bamf. ‘Nuff said.

-My little sissies. They kill it, no matter what. Emily doesn’t her diabetes, scoliosis, or anything else, hold her back. Victoria stands up for herself, others, and what she believes in. Hard. They both won’t let anyone or anything limit them. They won’t listen if you tell them they’re too bold, or they’re not ladylike enough, not prim and proper enough, because they know that they’re more than enough and anyone who doesn’t realize that just isn’t worth it.

-The one and only, absolutely fabulous, Resa Nelson. She’s slaying in England, just casually working on her PhD like a boss. No big.

-Ellen. She’s Ellen. That’s all I need to say.

-Malala Yousafzai. She didn’t let the fact that she was literally shot in the head keep her from getting the education she wanted and deserved. She risked her life to blog undercover for The BBC. She became the youngest ever Nobel Peace Prize Winner at 17. 17!!!! She lowkey has an unofficial holiday (Malala day is July 12 wink wonk) and she has a published memoir, AND she opened a school for Syrian refugee girls. Oh, and she’s 19 right now. Talk about living a full life.

-Hattie McDaniel. She became African-American ever to win an Academy Award when she won Best Supporting Actress in 1940 for her role in “Gone With the Wind”.

-Cicely Tyson. She became the first African-American star of a TV Drama in the series East Side/West Side in 1973. Like a bamf. But wait! There’s more! She also knew how to work a turtleneck. Anyone who can do that earns all of my respect.

-Nichelle Nichols. She was ½ of TV’s first interracial kiss when she smooched William Shatner in 1968. Super casual.

-Ethel Waters. She was the first African-American woman to be featured on a sitcom when she played the titular role in the show “Beulah”, which premiered in late 1950.

-The woman who hit a neo-nazi with her purse bc that takes a lot of balls tbh

-Marie Curie. She won the Nobel Prize twice for her work as a physicist and chemist. Also she knew a lot about radioactivity.

-Margaret Heafield. She was a director of software engineering for NASA’s Apollo Space Program. To put it simply, she’s the one who wrote the entire formula that sent us to space. The formula was so complex, the big book it was in was as tall as her.

-Amelia Earhart. Y’all already know who she is. She killed it before she disappeared. She knew how to work a pilot’s hat thingy.

-Phillipa Soo. She won all kinds of awards for portraying Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton in “Hamilton” and opened a door for better Asian representation on Broadway.

-Renee Elise Goldsberry. She’s been in, like, 11 musicals and was a part of about a billion TV shows. Also, she won a Tony for playing Angelica Schuyler Church in “Hamilton”.

-Jasmine Cephas Jones. She stole the show as Peggy Schuyler van Rensselaer and Miss Maria Reynolds in “Hamilton”, which, just fyi, is one of the greatest musicals of all time. I just really love her okay

-Sarah Urie bc she married Brendon Urie and she looked really great and she’s just generally really great and pure and precious and I love her

#inspiring women #womens day #feminsim #feminist #day without a woman #badass women #girl power