#Original Signs Denver

[knightofwands]

[rabbitcruiser]

Paramount Pictures was founded on May 8, 1912.

[kemetic-dreams]

Long before it arose in New York City and became an influential style of music around the world, salsa music has its seeds in African rhythms and traditions that came to the Caribbean through the slave trade. Centuries of enslavement caused many cultural changes in Cuba, including the music that led to salsa.

Some people know Bobby Day’s 1958 “Rockin’ Robin” or Michael Jackson’s remake but the origin of the song goes back to the days of slavery.

The majority of the Africans that were enslaved and brought to the Americas were of West African descent where the drum was used as a form of communication. In the Americas, enslaved Africans used the drum in the same way — communicating with the enslaved on distant plantations and ultimately planning uprising.

The enslavers caught wind of this and enacted a ban.

It is absolutely necessary to the safety of this Province, that all due care be taken to restrain Negroes from using or keeping of drums, which may call together or give sign or notice to one another of their wicked designs and purposes. — Slave Code of South Carolina, Article 36

That ban went down in 1740 and soon spread throughout Colonial America.

But the beat is in the heart of the African.

We soon found other ways to imitate the sound of the drum; stomping, playing spoons, washboards, or anything other household item. We also “slapped Juba” or played “hambone” where the body became an instrument where the player slaps their thighs and chest for the drum beat. (How did young boys in 1980s Park Hill, Denver know “Hambone?”)

Although we kept the beat, we lost the tradition, a cultural marker snatched away from us.

While the American enslaver worked feverishly to destroy any vestige of African culture, the Spanish enslaver of Cuba felt that it was in his best interest to allow the enslaved African to maintain his culture. In support of that, the Spanish allowed the Africans to organize Cabildos (or social groups) based on their nation of origin. Thus you had the Abakua (or Ekpe) from the nations known as Nigeria and Cameroon, the Madinga (or Malinke) from Sierre Leone, etc.

Our focus is primarily on the Lucumi, the Cabildo founded for the Yoruba of Benin and Nigeria. This lineage would be the cornerstone and origin point for what is now called “Salsa.” And what is this “Salsa?”

When we spoke of the drum being forbidden among the enslaved Africans in America, we forgot to mention that there was one place that didn’t enact that ban. That place was the port city of New Orleans, Louisiana — some even call New Orleans the Northernmost Caribbean city.

Similar in the way that the Spanish allowed for Cabildos in Cuba, the Louisiana enslavers permitted Sundays off and were okay with the dance and celebration so long as the enslaved African did so outside of the city limits in a place called Place des Negres (eventually known as Congo Square).

After the Civil War, Africans in America were able to get a hold of surplus brass instruments and shortly thereafter began composing music based on the popular music in the Caribbean at the time, the Cuban Habanero. Many say that this is one of the foundations of jazz music itself and the basis of the habanero, the tressilo, can be heard in second lines. Self-proclaimed jazz inventor, Jelly Roll Morton had this to say:

Now take the habanero “La Paloma”, which I transformed in New Orleans style. You leave the left hand just the same. The difference comes in the right hand — in the syncopation, which gives it an entirely different color that really changes the color from red to blue. Now in one of my earliest tunes, “New Orleans Blues”, you can notice the Spanish tinge. In fact, if you can’t manage to put tinges of Spanish in your tunes, you will never be able to get the right seasoning, I call it, for jazz. Jelly Roll Morton

Because of those qualities, a young musical prodigy from Cuba, Mario Bauzá recognized the similarities between jazz and Cuban music straightaway. Bauzá fell in love with jazz having heard it on Cuban radio but it was his trip to Harlem, NYC in 1927 that convinced him that New York was where he wanted to be and jazz was the music that he wanted to play.

Bauzá returned to New York in 1930, immediately found work, eventually landing a gig in the Cab Calloway band. Here he brought on the legend in the making, Dizzy Gillespie, and the two became fast friends. Bauzá attempted to play his “native” music to many in the band but they dismissed it as “country” music. Gillespie, on the other hand, embraced it.

For the next eight years Bauzá played in predominately African jazz bands having seen discrimination from white Cubans. Yet he longed to start a group that incorporated the music from his home and his second love, jazz. He shot this idea to his childhood friend/brother-in-law and in 1939 at the Park Palace Ballroom the Machito Afro-Cubans would debut.

“I am Black, which means my roots are in Africa. Why should I be ashamed of that?” Bauzá said in reference to the name.

Bauzá replaced the drum kit, which at that time had only been around for 20 years, with the hard to find congas, timbales, and toms. “The timbales play the bell pattern, the congas play the supportive drum part, and the bongos improvise, simulating a lead drum”. In the 40s these drums could only be found at Simon Jou’s bakery, La Moderna, locally known in East Harlem simply as Simon’s.

Next, the Afro-Cubans needed a home and they would find that not in Harlem nor the Bronx, but instead in Midtown Manhattan, a club called the Palladium.

Salsa is a set of Afro-Caribbean rhythms fused with jazz and other styles. The truth is that its origins have always been much debated, although as a general rule it is mentioned that it comes from a fusion that came from Africa in the Caribbean when they heard European music and wanted to mix it with their drums

These origins focus especially on mambo, danzó, cha cha chá, guaracha and son montuno, later enriched with instruments such as saxophone, trumpet or trombone.

It was the Cuban exiles and those from Puerto Rico who popularized salsa in New York back in the 1950s. But it wasn't until the last third of this century that salsa dancing began to take off all over the world.

Cuba played a leading role in the origin of salsa. Already in the 1930s, melodies and rhythms from Africa were playing on the Caribbean island. Among them was the danzón, a musical piece acquired by the French who had fled Haiti.

History tells us that it was these first rhythms that were then mixed with rumbas such as guagancó and sonero to begin to create their own Afro-Cuban rhythms, including Afro-Cuban jazz, mambo, guaracha, Cuban son and montuno.

The exquisite melody of these new rhythms soon set in other Latin American countries. Puerto Rico and Colombia were the first to welcome these new sounds from the Cuban country.

However, it was not until their appearance in the United States, and more specifically in the Bronx neighborhood of New York, when these rhythms acquired a greater impact. It was the moment in which new musical instruments were added that today form an indissoluble part of salsa.

The great Cuban musicians who moved to New York along with the wave of these new rhythms created the famous tumbadoras, congas or son montuno, and were responsible for introducing trombones and guaracha.

The Origin of the Salsa Dance Steps

Once salsa was defined as a musical genre in the 1970s, the movements and steps of its dance were collected through a fusion of the African with the European.

These steps and movements of salsa fundamentally reflect the influence of the dances that the Africans brought to the Caribbean and the European dances that have been danced in Cuba since the 1930s.

So much so that the basic steps of salsa are precisely the same steps as the Cuban son, just as it also includes steps that can be seen in rumba, danzón and mambo.

The origin of these variants is in the regions where this style comes from, which are the ones that developed each dance, always under the same umbrella of the term salsa.

It is not surprising, then, that salsa is defined as the result of a series of social conditions and the evolution of a series of rhythms and melodies from Cuba, which were developed and achieved repercussion in the United States.

There are those who assure against this mixture that salsa is neither a rhythm nor a style, but rather a term that serves to represent all the music of Afro-Cuban origin that emerged in the first decades of the twentieth century.

In short, the origin of salsa has always been, and will continue to be, much discussed. American musician Tito Puente was right when he said, "Salsa doesn't exist. What they now call salsa is what I have played for many years, and this is mambo, guaracha, cha cha chá and guagancó".

[labrxnth]

BoC Chapter 2: Distant Beaches (Leon x Reader Series)

In flower language, a cornflower means "Be careful with me, please, I'm delicate"

Tag List:

WC: 3261

CWs: some heinous forced father figure shit, human experimentation, PTSD, kidnapping, cannon level body horror, cannon level swearing and violence, body comparison.

AN: I chose to go with Leon's original backstory because fuck you. Also I'm in love with the idea of him being hungover during RE2. It makes everything so much worse lmao.

If you want to be on the tag list, comment and it'll be done.

Spotify Link: Listen along to the playlist I've curated for this fanfic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

“So this is what you’re up to?” You asked, your eyes on the booklet in his hand. 

The dark, sinister hallway that had your stomach in knots wasn’t easy to look at. Walls covered in water staining and blood echoed like a chamber. The floors were covered in mystery liquid, one you weren’t gonna ask about. The notebook in Leon’s hand was easier to look at, the question was to get the uneasiness out of your head. 

“Yeah,” Leon answered, his eyes flickering between the book and forward, as if waiting for something to jump out at the two of you. The hallway was dimly lit from his flashlight, adding to his growing suspense. 

Looking at him, you could tell the signs of someone in denial and trying to juggle multiple things at once.

“Do you want me to keep track of the booklet?” You asked. You had been brought up to help people, engineered to do the exact same thing. Over the past 9 years, you were told how helpful you were, how good you were. 

“I can’t ask you to do that, you focus on that ankle,” Leon said and pocketed the notebook. You made sure to take note of where he put the small booklet. His right back pocket.

One question you had on your mind since venturing out from the room you met in was at the forefront, begging to be asked. 

“Is this what the world looks like now?” You asked, your eyes on the ceiling, seeing the different stains and wiring showing, sparking. You remembered the neon, the smell of hairspray, not this. 

“I guess. I don’t know what’s going on here, but my only guess is that it’s only here that’s affected. At least in Denver it’s not like this,” He replied. He stopped walking and shook his head a little bit, then continued to walk. “At least when I left, it wasn’t like this,” He added. 

Denver, you remembered that name. It was the capital of a state, unfortunately you couldn’t remember which one. Trying to remember social studies from 9 years ago was like trying to remember a piece of information so deep in your mind that it wouldn't budge. 

You were trying to figure out how to ask for more information without revealing too much, but the sound of your foot slipping caught your attention. 

Hands were suddenly on your arms, making you sturdy and upright again. Leon’s face was inches from yours as the flashlight illuminated a random wall from him grabbing you. 

“Careful, can’t have you spraining that other ankle,” He said, looking over you to make sure you were okay. 

You were miles away, the sudden touch, or rather grab, was all too familiar to you. Leon meant it in goodwill, but you were used to people jostling you around, moving you at their own will and want. In place of Leon, you saw David, his eyes leering down at you. 

“Be a good girl for me, Thirteen,” He said, a snarl on his face as a syringe was in his hand. He held you with one arm, forcing you to stay still as the large needle with your usual sleeping medication got closer to you. 

You had to get out, you had to break free, don’t let the needle touch you, get out from his grip, don’t touch me-

“Hey, you okay?” You were brought back to reality by another voice, one that was starting to be familiar. As you blinked, the white walls and floors melted back to the dark blue and hazy green atmosphere of the place you were in. 

Leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you with concern. His blue eyes searched you over, checking you for any sign of hurt. 

“Y-yeah,” You managed to say, your voice cracking. “Just startled is all…” Your heart sped up as adrenaline entered your body. Lying didn’t come easily to you, it never did. You were hoping that Leon didn’t catch the unevenness of your tone and how clammy your hands had gotten. 

He seemed to believe you, or at least think it would be too much to call you out on the lie. Leon nodded and let go of you, turning back to facing forward. “Watch your step, there’s blood and worse everywhere,” He said and continued walking. 

“...Blood?” You asked, finally looking down at what you had slipped on. Sure enough, painting the tiled floor was thick streams of crimson red. Your eyes widened as you saw the blood now on your bare feet. Vomit threatened to come up and you started slightly shaking. 

You weren’t used to seeing blood. Everything in the Umbrella lab was clean, you never saw blood there. 

Leon turned to look at you, as if sensing you stopping. The flashlight turned to you and he took in your expression. 

“We gotta keep moving, there’s a locker room up ahead, we can find you some better clothes and some shoes there,” He said.

“Why is there…” You said, trailing off. 

To Leon’s credit, he picked up on what was happening quickly. He walked back to you and held out a hand to you. 

Your eyes focused on his hand, then flicked up to his eyes, seeing compassion in them. 

“The quicker we move, the quicker we can get out of here,” He said softly. 

You nodded and reached out to his hand. You remembered something like this, this was normal, people held hands all the time. Flashes of memories of your parents, your friends, and you holding hands. Whether it was during a game, or leading you through something, it was normal. This was a normal thing.

Leon’s hand softly grabbed yours, lacing your fingers together. The familiarity of soft human contact, a touch not expecting anything in return was enough to bring you back. Before all of this. 

Looking up to Leon, he wasn’t Leon anymore. A middle aged man with black hair and blue eyes stood in front of you. He was two times your size, tall and wide. He smelled of the Ocean. His eyes looked at you lovingly and his smile had a chipped tooth from eating ice. 

Dad. My dad. 

“Come on sunshine, I got you,” He said and held your hand, walking you to a stall that was so much taller than you. 

The smell of high tide filled your nose and the squawk of seagulls could be heard all around you. Looking down, you saw the usual dark brown wooden planks that were waterlogged. You remembered this place. 

The beach. 

Your dad crouched down to your height and pointed at the stall, then the worker. “Tell the nice ice cream man what flavor you want,” He said, smiling at you. You could feel the hand patting your back, encouraging you to speak. 

This was what an actual father was supposed to be. This is what you had been ripped from, forced to forget. 

Your dad looked at you. “____, tell him. I know you can do it, honey,” He said softly. What was supposed to be your name was static, even your memories couldn’t remember your old identity. Who you were born to be. 

Suddenly, his expression changed and he stood back up. “_____, I have to take care of something. I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit, but I’ll be back,” He said. 

“Joan, I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit, but I’ll be back,” Leon said, his voice bringing you back to your present again. That’s twice today, that was a new record. 

You were so used to surviving in Umbrella that you didn't have the luxury of memories. That, and the memory serum they pumped in you did its job in suppressing them. 

“Okay,” You said and nodded, barely processing what he said. The two of you were in a small outlet of a hallway, Leon looking around the corner. Your hands were still entangled in each other, the warmth spreading up your arm. 

“Give me two minutes and I’ll be back,” He said, looking back at you. 

“What if you’re not?” You asked nervously. Having a backup was something you had learned to have over the many years of failing escape. 

“I’ll be back, I’m not leaving you alone in here,” Leon said, getting a little closer to you. “Don’t worry, I’ve fought these things before, I know how to kill them,” He added. 

Your eyes widened at his words. 

Things…. 

Kill? 

“What?” You asked, your mind reeling trying to figure out what he meant. 

Leon looked at you, confused for a second, then he realized something. “You have no clue about the outbreak,” He said. It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. Stating it. 

“Outbreak?” You said. You remembered David’s words from when you left the facility, "Birkin messed with something." You had a sense that whatever was going on, this Birkin was responsible. 

Leon looked at the floor, trying to figure out how to explain it. “So, we’re currently in the middle of a zombie outbreak. I don’t know why and I don’t know what causes it, but the dead aren’t actually dead,” He said, looking at you. His eyes looked at you like he expected you to freak out. 

“O…kay?” You said, not really getting as hung up on it as Leon expected you to. For the past nine years you were surrounded by scientists who fucked around with human biology, you weren’t really surprised that the dead could come back to life. 

“You’re taking this way better than I guessed you would,” Leon said. He let go of your hand to cross his arms. His eyes looked at you, a hint of untrust in them. 

“I grew up around biologists,” You offered as an explanation. He took it as the truth, out of convenience. 

“When we make it out of here, I’m never touching another bottle of alcohol ever again,” He grumbled and checked the gun he was holding. “Two minutes,” He said and nodded to you. 

You nodded in agreement and watched him go around the corner. After a few seconds, you heard gunshots and a yelp, then bodies hitting the floor. 

Soon enough, the ashy blonde hair of your new companion came around the corner and he looked at you. “It’s clear,” He said. 

You nodded and went to walk, but instead his hand reached out to you again. As if missing the feeling of the warmth between the two of you, you took it almost immediately. 

“Hold on,” Leon said, not moving. He got closer to you and his eyes met you. As he got closer, you could see the blood spurts on his face, making you flinch a bit. 

“I need you to close your eyes, okay?” He asked. 

“Uh okay,” You said quietly and squeezed your eyes shut. For some reason, you knew you could trust him. Maybe he was the only person you thought you could trust. That idea scared you, the idea of trust was one you weren’t used to anymore. 

Leon guided you through the hallway, lightly pulling your hand forward. Looking back, he noticed how awkward and slowly you moved through the hallway even with his guidance. He walked back to you and went to put his other arm around your back. 

“Is it okay if I help you?” He asked gently. You nodded in reply and felt his hand on your higher back. Instead of the dread you assumed the touch would bring, it brought peace and assurance. 

After a few minutes of walking, you heard a door open after the warmth of Leon’s hand disappeared. Then, you walked through a doorway onto a different feeling floor. 

“You can open your eyes,” Leon said. 

You opened your eyes to the sight of a dimly lit locker room. You watched Leon put something into a terminal and he pressed a few buttons, running to get a newly opened locker. 

“There are uniforms and shoes in that locker, if they fit it’ll make this easier,” He sighed as he sat down and held his head with his hands. 

If Leon had been fighting all day long, it was no wonder he was tired. Anyone would keel over at this point. 

“I picked the worst day to come in,” He grumbled. 

As your hands found the locker Leon was talking about, you noticed what he said. “So you weren’t here when this started?” You asked, wanting to gain more information about what happened, or really what Leon knew. 

“No,” He admitted as he put pouches on his hips. The pouches had the letters R.P.D. written on them.

You found a uniform that looked like it was the closest to your size and took it out of the locker. Holding it up to your body, the navy blue fabric was still too big for your frame. 

It was a size women’s small.

You knew that David and Umbrella kept you malnourished so you were more agreeable and less energetic, but holding the fabric up to your body made you see how small your frame was. It was scary. 

Getting your mind off of comparing yourself to the clothes, you decided to press Leon more. “When did you get here?” You asked. 

“Today. I thought that yesterday was one of the worst days of my life so I decided to come in today. But this is… much worse than what was going on with me,” He sighed and tightened the straps on his pouches and holsters. 

You were quiet, not really knowing if you should press into someone’s personal life. 

“I guess I should tell you, seeing as though I’m now responsible for your safety as well…” He said under his breath. “I had a pretty awful day yesterday, so I’m not the most sober person right now,” He admitted. 

You blankly stared at him, not knowing what he meant. 

“Uh….” He said sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m a little hungover right now, but don’t worry, I’ll still get us through this,” He said. 

That…still didn’t clear up what he meant. It was almost like he was speaking a foreign language from your reaction. You just stared blankly at him still. 

Moving onto other matters, you started taking off your scrubs, finally being free of the grubby, smokey fabric. As you did, you heard a yelp come from Leon. 

“Jesus! Let me know next time you do that,” He said, turning to face the wall. You could see the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were pink. 

You went about your business and finished changing. The women’s uniform came with a tanktop, the button up shirt, the pants, and the shoes. 

“A-are you done?” Leon asked, his voice slightly crackling and the pink turning deeper with the voice crack. 

“I think…” You said and looked down. You looked like a toddler trying on their parent’s work clothes. The way the fabric hung loosely would only make you slower, a liability. 

“Here,” Leon said and walked up to you. He crouched down to do something, then looked up at you. “Can I help you with this?” He asked. You nodded and his eyes looked over the uniform. 

He noticed that you had a tanktop on underneath so he got to work undoing the buttons of the shirt. “So, I told you how I got here, how’d you get here?” He asked 

You tried to think of a way to explain your situation. Even if you told the truth, would he believe you? He’d either ignore it, deny it was the truth, or worse turn you in. 

After all, you were property technically. And the longer you were gone, the longer you were technically “stolen”.

Your eyes flicked to the side and you decided to make up a story. “I was at the hospital… I had been for a while,” You said. It wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“Oh,” Leon said softly, his eyes meeting yours. They carried a sympathy that stabbed your heart for lying about being ill. 

“They were transporting me,” You said, looking at the floor. 

“And the helicopter was the one that crashed,” He said, recalling that you told him you were in the helicopter that crashed. 

“Yeah,” 

“Here, hold onto me so I can tie this easier,” He said. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, loosely, and he got to working on the clothes again. 

Leon had finished making adjustments to your uniform. He took the long sleeves on the button up and used them to tie the shirt around your waist. The pant legs were tucked into your socks and the bandages from your sprained ankle. 

“I’m no seamstress, but I did what I could,” He said. You removed your arms and offered a light smile in thanks. 

“Thanks, these feel better than what I was in,” You said. The feel of a different fabric than the same one you had been wearing for years felt odd. 

Not odd, just weird. 

“I thought as much,” He said. “I picked this up too, my girlfriend used to use them all the time. She would get upset if her hair got in the way of doing things,” He said and held up a hair elastic. 

You used hair elastics a lot, and luckily, this was the type that held your hair the strongest. 

“Thanks,” You said again and took it, putting your hair back and away from your face. This wasn’t the time to worry about looks, this was the time to worry about practicality. 

“Alright, now I feel better about bringing you along with me,” Leon said and smiled at you. “I won’t have to worry about you stepping on glass or anything,” He added. 

“Thank you,” You said again, your eyes meeting his. 

“Thank me when we get out of here,” He said and walked over to the door. “I’d give you a gun or a knife, but I don’t have anything to spare.” He looked at you sympathetically. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t even know how to use either one so it would be lost on me,” You reassured. 

His eyebrows furrowed a bit and he slightly tilted his head. “Really? Not even a knife?” He asked. 

You shook your head in reply. 

“Well then, I’ll just have to teach you when we get out of here. Or earlier if I have to,” He said and put his hand on the doorknob. “You still okay with following me around?” He asked. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Leon was the safest person you could be with right now. He knew where you were, at least more than you did, and he knew how to fight. It would stupid of you to say no. 

“Of course,” You said and nodded. “We’ll make it out of here together,” You added and lightly smiled. 

His concerned look slowly turned into a light smile and he nodded. “Yeah, we will. As long as we stay together, we’ll be okay,” He replied. 

Leon opened the door into the darkness, ready to get out of the locker room and plunge into the dark hallway. Ready to lead the two of you into whatever this hell would throw at him. He was more determined now, because he had someone that depended on him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic and others on my AO3

[thethirdromana]

Wasn't Arthur originally a Viscount? With his father dead he'd now be an Earl/Count.

Anon you have caught me at either the best or the worst possible time, I am tipsier than normal for 6pm on a Wednesday (drinks after work event) (only needed to cycle home) (director paying) (mojito stronger than I expected) and so I am consulting fucking DEBRETT'S. For you.

They want me to sign up to their weekly newsletter. Debrett's, I thank you, but no.

The senior most rank of the British nobility is Duke. For example, the Duke of Denver, the older brother of Lord Peter Wimsey. Lord Henry could be the younger son of a duke but there are other options too.

Next up we have marquesses. Not many of those in British fiction for some reason, outside of Downton Abbey. Lord Henry could also be the younger son of a marquess ("lord" is a really vague title, it turns out).

Then earls. Fun fact, I vaguely knew a guy at university who was referred to as "the earl of [place]". I thought it was a joke because he was quite posh. I learned, sometime after graduation, that he literally was an earl. Which took me by surprise perhaps more than it should have done.

Earls are also addressed as "Lord [Whatever]" but you address letters to them as "the Earl of [Whatever]". The younger sons of earls are also called Lord [First Name], which is ridiculous but then so is this whole system. They also get the courtesy title of "The Honourable". That's only for younger sons though and there's some twaddle about secondary titles but life is too short.

Viscounts! As far as I can tell, this is probably what Arthur is - all sons and daughters of viscounts get "The Honourable" as a title and then the viscount is address as "Lord [Whatever]". I think this means that if Lord Henry is the younger son of a duke then he outranks Arthur full stop, and if he is the younger son of a marquess or an earl then he outranks Arthur until Arthur's dad dies.

And finally there are barons. Forms of address seem to be the same for viscounts and barons so I guess Arthur could be either, but Bram Stoker's notes have him as a viscount. Augustus Champnell could also be either, for the Beetleites among us.

I feel like I've written some of this before but couldn't find an earlier post. Anyway, please know that every time I have to remind myself of details of how this all works, I become slightly more radicalised. Did you know there are spaces in the British legislature right now, in 2023, that are reserved only for hereditary peers? Now you do.

[flu5zn]

⸻ ⠀✹.⠀⠀،،⠀SO S!CK﹐⠀is a fictional co-ed band formed in new england by its members as an independent act in january 2011. consisting of four childhood friends, the band began playing college bars across the region while simultaneously posting song covers to youtube.

as their videos gained traction, the band began to play larger venues before eventually earning enough money to rent out a studio to record their first official body of original work, an ep titled, IT'S FLU SEASON, in late 2011.

with their popularity soaring, the band struggled with the management of their act as totally independent artists. though the band would turn down an exclusive contract with KAYAK72 offered by the label's creative director, ROMINA RICCHETTI, they would gain the support of DENVER OWENS, a close friend of ricchetti's, who would become their exclusive manager in 2013.

owens' connections soon sent so s!ck on their first tour to great success, playing medium sized venues in college towns across the country. this prompted the release of their first complete album, UR SO SICK!, in 2014. the album would go on to receive critical praise, landing the band their first nationally televised appearance on a major network. amongst the influx of attention, the band would be approached once more by kayak72, this time by the label's ceo, KEON HINTON, successfully signing the band in 2016.

﹙ &. ﹚⠀⠀┉⠀⠀SECTION ONE ﹕ basics.

GROUP NAME: so s!ck

COMPANY: independent (2011 - 2016) & kayak72 (2016 - present)

DEBUT DATE: may 23, 2011

DEBUT SINGLE: hanover

DEBUT ALBUM: it's flu season

GENRE: rock, pop rock, pop punk, pop rock, art pop

FANDOM NAME: influx

FANDOM COLOR: seein' stars (#8e1a13)

﹙ &. ﹚⠀⠀┉⠀⠀SECTION TWO ﹕ members.

CORNELIUS 'COREY' KIM (1993)

CHRISTINA 'DEVIN' XIE (1993)

MARKUS 'KIAN' KIM (1994)

WILHELMINA MAI LINH 'BILLIE' HUỲNH (1995)

﹙ &. ﹚⠀⠀┉⠀⠀SECTION THREE ﹕ discography.

FOURTH BASE: debut single (2011)

IT'S FLU SEASON: extended play (2011)

PEOPLE I DON'T LIKE: extended play (2012)

SICKNESS/HEALTH: extended play (2013)

UR SO SICK!: first album (2014)

CLOSED CAPTIONS: second album (2016)

SEROTONIN!: third album (2018)

BLISTER BLUES: fourth album (2020)

OH, ROMEO: fifth album (2022)

[bellsrung]

breaking news !  this podcaster just went viral for accidentally leaking their own address . . . dallas molina is a twenty eight year old representing long beach , california , who is frequently seen rocking gucci . they enjoy early morning surfing in their free time , but have said to hate having to dress professionally for business meetings . they seem to be earnest , but others have said they are are quite deluded as well . that makes sense , considering they are often labeled as the ditzy genius .

☆ — next page : the connections .

— … 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙨 !

full name : dallas anthony molina .

nickname(s) : any other city name in texas, d .

gender & pronouns : cis man & he/him .

orientation : bisexual, biromantic .

age : twenty eight .

birthdate : august 11th, 1996 .

sun sign : leo .

— … 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 !

ethnicity : mexican-american .

nationality : american .

place of birth : long beach, california, usa .

education : bachelor of science in architectural studies from the university of southern california .

current occupation : independent podcaster of the half - brainer podcast, a talk show where he interviews people with odd or obscure occupations.

— … 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 !

positive traits : earnest, idealistic, loyal .

negative traits : deluded, jealous, gullible .

— ... 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 !

faceclaim : taylor zakhar perez .

height : 6ft 2in .

hair color : black .

eye color : brown .

tattoo(s) : none yet .

piercing(s) : none .

scar(s) : a small indent in his right eyebrow after getting into a schoolyard fight .

𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙞𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙮.

to be continued ...

tldr — (TW: MENTION OF PARENTAL DEATH) dallas was born to vicente and catalina molina (née sanz) in long beach, california. after his father passed away due to complications during surgery, he and his mom, a professor at their local community college, moved to denver, colorado after a job transfer. he and his mom are as close as can be, especially since she was only twenty when she had him so at times, she felt more like an older sister and a friend. she and vicente were high school sweethearts, and planned to live out the rest of their days together in their quaint little long beach home.

he was originally dead set on becoming an architect, initially pursuing an associates degree at the community college of denver to then transfer to a four-year program at the university of southern california. post-graduation, he was battling with a loss of passion, debating between finding that spark again via a master's program, or taking a year to just find himself.

dallas moved back to long beach, balancing a barista job and a position at best buy's geek squad, where he met and conversed with a lot of different people with odd jobs! from that was born half-brainer, originally a soundcloud podcast listened to by his friends and random people he anecdotally told, with its accompanying footage posted to a youtube channel. youtube success eventually flourished, and it continues every day!

he'd say he joined the berry crew for networking purposes, but really, he hasn't really felt a true sense of companionship since moving back to long beach, and hopes that this will give him an opportunity to forge relationships with people who also know the struggle of friendship in the limelight.

character parallels : michael kelso (that 70s show), jamie tartt (ted lasso), jeff sadecki (yellowjackets), troy barnes (community), winston schmidt (new girl), bolin (legend of korra), fred jones (scooby doo), jason mendoza (the good place)

[watchmenanon]

THE ‘STRANGER THINGS’ BOYS ARE OUR ‘NYLON GUYS’ SEPTEMBER 2017 COVER STARS

If anyone understands the sudden shift from “not fitting in” to “one-million-plus followers,” it’s these guys.

The following feature appears in the September 2017 issue of NYLON Guys.

Finn Wolfhard just couldn’t resist. Despite needing to be camera-ready for his NYLON photo shoot, the 14-year-old star of Stranger Things decided to suck on a blue Warhead anyway, and now he’s paying the price. “All these sets have candy on them, and I can’t help myself. It was a mistake,” he admits, sheepishly trying to scrub the cerulean stain from his tongue with a miniature toothbrush. To his right, Gaten Matarazzo wears a gray T-shirt that reads, uh oh! did my sarcasm hurt your feelings?, a slogan worthy of Dustin Henderson, the lovable wisecracker he plays opposite Wolfhard on the hit Netflix show. Matarazzo, also 14, is getting his trademark tangle of curls straightened, much to the delight of Noah Schnapp, who, at 12, is the youngest in this group of breakout stars that has helped make Stranger Things the most obsessed-over show in Netflix’s boundless roster of original series. Missing is Caleb McLaughlin, the energetic 15-year-old who plays Lucas Sinclair, but he’s on his way over in a black car, having just arrived from Los Angeles, fresh off an appearance at the BET Awards.

It’s the first time the boys have been together in several weeks, and none of them can pinpoint exactly when they were last in the same room. Ever since Stranger Things became a cultural phenomenon last summer, they’ve been swept up in a whirlwind of red carpets, talk shows, and fan conventions. And as the premiere of the sci-fi and horror fantasia’s top-secret second season nears, this summer has been overtaken by a flurry of promotional duties. Next week, while most kids their age are cooling off in pools or testing out the latest in roller coaster technology, Matarazzo and McLaughlin will be at Denver Comic Con, signing autographs and posing for selfies with wide-eyed fans. A few weeks after that, all four will find themselves inside the hallowed Hall H at San Diego Comic-Con, where they’ll premiere the thrilling trailer for Season 2 to rapturous applause.

But on this day, even though they’re technically at work, the boys still find time to goof off. They are, after all, best friends—like brothers, even, they say—and there’s a lot of catching up to do, memes to be shared, and jokes to be cracked. “We used to call Noah ‘Señor Biebs,’” Matarazzo offers at one point, due to Schnapp’s Season 1 bowl cut and its resemblance to the former haircut of a certain Canadian pop star. “He hates it!” he says, just before he sticks his finger into Schnapp’s ear (playfully, of course).

Inside the bright and breezy photo studio on Manhattan’s West Side, publicists abound, but because these budding stars are still minors, there are also parents. It’s an unusual sight, and a reminder that despite having very grown-up jobs, they’re still not old enough to drive. Wolfhard, the Vancouver native who plays Mike Wheeler, is here with his father, as is Matarazzo, who hails from Little Egg Harbor Township, New Jersey. Schnapp and his parents came in from Westchester County, north of the city. When McLaughlin, who grew up in Carmel, New York, finally arrives lugging a suitcase that’s almost as big as he is, he’s accompanied by his father, a burly man in an Atlanta Braves cap who goes around the room with his son hugging the other parents, a reminder of how tight the makeshift family has become since this odyssey began more than two years ago.

Stranger Things premiered as an underdog. Its creators, the twin brothers Matt and Ross Duffer, were unproven talents who had previously written for the Fox sci-fi series Wayward Pines. Except for Winona Ryder’s comeback as a grieving mother searching for her missing son, the cast was composed largely of unknowns and newcomers. But thanks to its double dose of supernatural intrigue and a nostalgic ’80s-tinged glow, along with a miraculous performance by a young British actress with a shaved head, Stranger Things quickly commandeered the pop-culture conversation in a way that few shows have done. In July, the show received a staggering 18 Emmy nominations, including Outstanding Drama Series.

Created by the Duffers in the spirit of the Amblin-era entertainments they were raised on, the eight-episode first season is set in 1983 in Hawkins, Indiana, and unravels the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Will Byers, played by Schnapp, who vanishes in the first episode after an encounter with the show’s resident boogeyman, the otherworldly creature known as the Demogorgon. As Will’s three misfit best friends—Mike, Lucas, and Dustin—embark on a quest to find him, they uncover an alternate dimension they dub The Upside Down, and a sinister government conspiracy that may be responsible for opening it. They also befriend Eleven, the feral girl with telekinetic powers embodied iconically by 13-year-old Millie Bobby Brown.

Stranger Things began filming its second season under very different circumstances than the first. What once felt like a scrappy production free of scrutiny from outside sources suddenly had the mood and atmosphere of a major Hollywood blockbuster. “Netflix knew it would be a good show,” McLaughlin says, “but they didn’t realize how big it would be and that the whole world was going to freak out about it.” Because of that intense interest from both the network and the public, the set suddenly had a noticeable security presence shielding it from nosy onlookers and paparazzi, while network executives showed up to make sure their prized racehorse was galloping along. Suddenly, there were expectations. “We raised the bar pretty high with the first season,” says Matarazzo. “There was a lot more tension on set, in that we really needed to make sure it was good.”

When Season 2 premieres on October 27, a year will have passed since Eleven sacrificed herself to defeat the faceless Demogorgon and save the boys, in the Season 1 finale. Trying to squeeze spoilers out of Wolfhard, McLaughlin, Schnapp, and Matarazzo is useless. Extensive media training, including detailed notes on what they can and can’t discuss, have transformed them into a rare breed: teenagers who can keep a secret. What they can say: Season 2 is bigger, darker, and scarier. There’s also a new character in town, played by Sadie Sink. (According to the Duffers, Millie Bobby Brown was “relieved” to have another girl on set.) “She’s a skater, sort of a punk girl, and she slowly becomes part of the group,” says Wolfhard, who also says his character will be depressed and “a loner” in the wake of Eleven’s disappearance. What they can’t say: pretty much everything else. But it’s not just scoop-hungry journalists who harass them for info. “Whenever you get recognized by fans, most of the time they ask you if you’ve got any spoilers for Season 2, and I’m like, ‘No, none, not at all,’” says Matarazzo. “It’s definitely kind of stressful.”

One of the biggest changes for the new season is the expansion of Schnapp’s screen time. Because his character spends much of the first season trapped in an alternate dimension, Schnapp spent a good deal of time at home in New York while everyone else filmed in Atlanta. “Last year I would drive up to the studio and everyone would be like, ‘Hey, Noah, we’ve missed you! How’ve you been?’” says Schnapp. “This year was a lot easier because last year, I’d have to go in and out of school, and that was hard. This year I could focus.”

Although he’s rescued from The Upside Down, we last saw Schnapp removing a slithery creature from his mouth, a telltale sign that not all is well with Will Byers. For Schnapp, whose character mostly communicated through Christmas lights in Season 1, the new episodes meant new challenges as an actor. “Shawn Levy, one of our directors, was telling me, ‘Noah, you have something really big this season. We have a lot in store for you, and you should get really excited,’” he says. Schnapp felt the added pressure, and would sometimes text his TV mom, Ryder, for extra help with particularly emotional scenes. “We knew we needed a strong actor in case the series moved forward into a second season, because we knew he was going to be a centerpiece,” says Matt Duffer. “We needed not just a good actor, but a really, really good actor.” Schnapp rose to the occasion, according to the Duffers. “Shawn [Levy] was like, ‘We’ve had a Ferrari sitting in the garage all of Season 1, and now the fucking garage doors are open.’”

The Duffers knew that casting child actors, who have a tendency to favor exaggerated performances over naturalistic ones, would make or break their show. “There’s really nothing worse than a bad child performance,” Ross Duffer says. “You couldn’t have any weaknesses, or the eight hours would be excruciating.” Along with their casting director, the Duffers saw what they estimate to be 900 kids, an undertaking they say was easier than it sounds because they could tell within the first few minutes if the actor had what they needed. “You’re looking for something authentic, and most kids don’t have it,” says Ross. “There are the ones that are obviously well-trained, but they feel too Disney, like they’re winking at the camera.” What the Duffers found with their four young male stars were kids who seemed like actual kids.

Matarazzo was the first one cast, his audition so impressive that he found out he got the part on the way back from the airport. “We didn’t really even know who the Dustin character was until we found Gaten,” says Matt Duffer. “He was sort of a generic nerd with glasses. He was a stereotype.” Matarazzo, whose sense of humor inspired the Duffers to transform Dustin into the show’s primary source of comic relief, has grown up with a condition known as cleidocranial dysplasia, which stunts the development of bones and teeth. “We wanted to make a show about outsiders, about kids who didn’t fit in and who were bullied and made fun of,” says Matt. “Gaten was really able to tap into all of that.”

McLaughlin and Matarazzo had known each other from their days as stars in two of Broadway’s biggest shows. Matarazzo portrayed Gavroche in Les Misérables, and McLaughlin played Simba in The Lion King. They’d often see each other in a park frequented by “Broadway kids,” as Matarazzo calls them. “When I found out Caleb had gotten Lucas I was like, ‘Caleb? Where do I know that name from?’” he recalls. Wolfhard and Schnapp established an early connection, too—sort of. “He doesn’t remember me, but I remember him,” Wolfhard says. “Because I asked him what other projects he had done, and he said, ‘I was the voice of Charlie Brown in The Peanuts Movie.’ I was like, ‘What?! You’re Charlie Brown?’ I was so pysched about that.”

Although they had all crossed paths during the audition process, usually around the hotel pool or at chemistry reads, it wasn’t until they arrived in Atlanta to begin production that all four boys, along with Millie Bobby Brown, found themselves together in the same room for the first time. If there was a first-day-of-school feel, it made sense: They met in a classroom, which is where the young cast of Stranger Things still spend most of their time when they’re not filming. That grueling schedule means the only opportunities they get to really mess around are between takes, and sometimes during them. “We have laughing problems,” says McLaughlin. Matt Duffer elaborates: “We definitely have an issue, where we can’t get through a take without someone busting up. They’re always making each other crack up—the number of takes ruined by laughter is in the hundreds.”

Schnapp was at summer camp when Stranger Things dropped on Netflix. He wasn’t allowed to have his phone, but shortly after the series premiered, one of his counselors happened to check his Instagram account—80,000 followers. The next day it was 85,000. “I was like, ‘Wait, what’s going on?’ I think I was at one follower before that,” Schnapp says. Wolfhard also remembers that odd rush of watching his followers skyrocket and realizing his life was changing right in front of his eyes. McLaughlin felt his anonymity evaporate the first time he was recognized. “In L.A., this kid came up to me and was like, ‘Hey, are you Caleb Reginald McLaughlin?’” he says. “And I’m like, ‘What? You know my middle name? That’s nuts.’” 

The connection between the boys is strengthened by the surreal turn their lives have taken, circumstances that most kids their age can’t relate to. When Matarazzo, McLaughlin, and Wolfhard met Barack Obama last October, as guests of the White House’s South by South Lawn festival, the former president, who’s a fan of the show, told them he especially enjoyed their on-screen camaraderie. That bond exists offscreen, too, and has only gotten stronger with every award show and panel. “They really are my best friends,” Matarazzo says. “We can relate to each other a lot more than other people can. People try to understand everything that goes on, but they can’t unless they’ve been there.”

“I don’t think any of the kids would say that our friendship is similar to the friendships they have back home, because it’s not,” says Wolfhard. “No kid has ever really had an experience that I’m experiencing right now—it’s a unique sort of friendship.”

Wolfhard is careful not to bring his work home with him. “If you go home and all you talk about is acting, then you’re a douchebag,” he says. “Your friends don’t want to hear about your professional life, they just want to mess around.” Plus, when you’re 14 years old, talking about work is never cool, even if it involves facing off against a faceless interdimensional demon. The boys are also learning that with a great number of Instagram followers comes great responsibility. “We have to be more cautious with what we say on social media and in public,” says McLaughlin, who was shocked to lose followers after he openly rooted for the Golden State Warriors during the NBA playoffs.

While Netflix has yet to make an official announcement, a third season of Stranger Things is a given, meaning the boys are all but guaranteed to live out their teenage years on one of the most popular shows on television. The Duffers, then, will have to follow in the footsteps of long-running properties like Game of Thrones and the Harry Potter franchise in making sure their child actors don’t grow up faster than their characters. “It’s terrifying,” Matt Duffer says. “I shouldn’t even be highlighting this, but if you watch Season 2, they’ve grown from Episode 1 to Episode 9. I’m terrified one of them is going to have a major growth spurt basically in the middle of shooting. But as long as they’re growing outside of the course of our shooting, I’m not too worried about it, because we just have to build it into our story. As much as you would like to keep some of it more continuous, every time we take a break between seasons, we have to make a year time jump at least.”

All four actors say that they want to remain in show business into adulthood. Wolfhard, who obsessively studies the filmmaking process while on set—he’ll star in the remake of Stephen King’s It, in theaters this month—is eyeing a multihyphenate career as a director, actor, and musician. Back at the photo shoot, Matarazzo and Schnapp gather around his iPhone to watch a video Wolfhard co-directed for a friend’s band, Spendtime Palace. Earlier this year, McLaughlin, who is a trained dancer, played a young Ricky Bell on the BET miniseries The New Edition Story, an experience he describes as “historic.” Matarazzo wants to continue acting, but not forever, and is keeping an open mind about other aspects of the industry. Schnapp, who took his first acting class at the age of six, describes winning the Screen Actors Guild Award for Outstanding Performance by an Ensemble in a Drama Series as one of the greatest moments of his life, and is doing exactly what he wants. (The boys, who describe the awards as “very heavy,” keep them in their bedrooms, except for Matarazzo, who has been meaning to retrieve his from his grandparents’ house. )

“They all love what they’re doing,” says Matt Duffer. “They love coming to set, they love working, they love acting. In terms of the fame thing, it’s a side effect that I think some of them are more into than others. You’re worried about, ‘What if they realize this isn’t their true passion?’ They’re so young. But this year those fears went away. They’re all very committed to this. That’s the important thing, that they enjoy what they’re doing. And that they’re passionate about it.”

[alter-soup]

hii! could we get a fictives based off of amber from scream 5? preferable a transmasc/trans spectrum alter :3 everything else is up to you !! tyyyy

Name(s) - Adam, Tyler, Denver, Cole, Alex, Blaze (I'm so sorry)

Pronouns- he/him

Suggested Neopronouns- fake/fakeout, div/divet, static/statics, blade/blades, spree/sprees, stab/stabs, mimic/mimics, ☏/☏

Gender(s)- Trans Male

Suggested Xenogenders- Luckthiefic, Monsterslasher, Skrackmemcatic

Orientation- Straight or Unlabeled

Age- 17

Species- Human

Source- Scream 5

Role(s)- Chameleon

Kins- French Bulldog

Personality traits/details- Dramatic, unserious, funny, playful, thrill-seeker

Likes- Horror movies (usually only the originals and not the sequels), true crime (please be careful with this!!), prank calls, acting/performing, fanfiction, comedy podcasts, diagram studies

Dislikes- Having to repeat himself, lack of trust or belief, people running their mouths off about stuff he doesn't care about

Sign Off- 🎤🔗

Extra details- he doesn't take insults very personally which can often work in his and others favor but some may get irritated by it - when he watches slasher movies he'll mimic the killer's voice and comment on the strategies of the killer - if you ask him to help come up with a username or password for you he'll most likely give you the most random list of numbers you've ever seen

Faceclaim-

(+ a masc picrew version) ((the skin in the picrew is so off oh no!! T^T))

Picrew

[littlewestern]

say, what does silver charger think of their taller headlight that got added later

I love this question. Silver Charger, being the domain of the original shovelnoses would be more @greatwesternway's area of expertise, but I can hop in here at least as far as characterization is concerned. If any of the history is wrong, I'm sure she'll be able to correct me lol.

Charger is the youngest of the shovelnoses and had kind of a weird career as far as it goes. In a lot of ways, he's similar to Pioneer, having been designed and built to do one route and then when circumstances changed, getting shuffled around without really having a home to go back to. For Pioneer, this was the result of being the first of his class and the Budd company not realizing how popular their doughty little train would become. He kept getting reassigned because he wasn't built for the kind of demand his presence always seemed to draw, his specs couldn't handle it. It wasn't how he would have envisioned his career going, but he handles it with grace and dignity, as he does all things. If he had it his way, he does wish he was a little bigger so he would have been able to live up to the expectations placed on him, but he's not resentful about it whatsoever.

For Charger, the continual reassignments weren't because he wasn't built for it. In fact, Charger's the odd-man out because he's internally different than all the other shovelnoses, being half an E3 engine on the inside. His reassignments were due to factors outside the Budd company's control, like the US entering WWII and the changes made to the railroading industry as a result. This isn't how Charger pictured his career going either, but so much changed between the Pioneer Zephyr's inception and the time the General Pershing Zephyr went into service, Charger quickly came to understand that no engine's career ends up being what the expect it to be. Where Pioneer handled this revelation with the poise expected of the first in their class, I think Charger would have handled it by... simply trying to be the best at whatever thing he'd been reassigned to. If he couldn't be the best engine on the head of the General Pershing, then he'd be the best engine doing short-haul service on the no. 33 or whatever.

Charger's not resentful either (well, maybe at first when he's New) but he copes with the change by doing his work with as much pomp and ceremony as can be afforded, regardless of how lowly the job might be in reality. In a book we used for our research, one writer characterized Charger's brow as "arrogant", which I think maybe you might assume given the import he gives to all of his trains. Really it's not that he's full of himself, it's more that Charger wants to make all of his jobs seem dignified and refined, and the best way to do that is to treat all of them as though they were The Best, Most Important Job In The World, even if in reality he's just pulling army surplus supplies around fucking Iowa.

But you asked about the lights.

As far as I can tell, the tall headlights became standard on all the shovelnoses around the early-to-mid 1940s, the latest date I can put on any one of them having the original single-lamp model. It stands to reason they all got them around the same time, probably just added on as they went in for regular routine maintenance. For Pioneer, the addition of the taller light was just another sign that his record-setting years in the spotlight were well and truly over. Not that he minded, of course, but (taking the most uncharitable view of things) Pioneer's service life started out very strong and slowly wound down as he suffered a series of scaled-back routes and modifications that helped him remain in service, but definitely meant he would not be doing 112mph between Denver and Chicago again, ever. The light was just another in a long line of indignities one endures getting old. He would have seen it as a mild inconvenience (and a knock against his iconic, streamlined profile) but necessary for him to remain up to par with current railroad safety standards. And safer is a good thing, all told!

And here is where we get to why I had to talk about Charger's personality a bit. Because everything that Charger is and does is the best, most important thing in the world, I actually think he would see his headlight as an upgrade. He's taller now, and oncoming traffic can see him more clearly, which is good when you have a Very Important Train to pull. That he kept his headlight into preservation while Pioneer was restored to his original, single-lamp light in the 90s also sets him apart from Pioneer to museum-goers, and being distinguished is always a plus in the preservation world. (You'd not mistake them for each other for a variety of reasons, but in this racket you take everything you can get.)

Whether or not he actually believes his headlight looks good or bad is immaterial. It's his headlight, and that's what makes it the best.

[plasticbcnes]

courtney eaton & she/her / cis woman — i see you’ve settled on stephanie gingrich ! fill your inventory, you’re heading to litwick. you look 27 years old and i hear you’re from seattle ? well, i think lemon lane will be the perfect fit for you. make sure you stop by the music shop and introduce yourself as their new manager ! it’s strange, you almost remind me of steph gingrich from life is strange. we hope you enjoy the slow life ! 

playlist | pintrest

content/trigger warnings: divorce, death, depression

full name: stephanie gingrich

nicknames: steph

pronouns/gender: she/her ; cis woman

sexuality: lesbian

birthday: december 14, 1996

zodiac sign: sagittarius ☉ | aquarius ☽ | libra➶

hometown: astoria, or & seattle, wa

neighborhood: lemon lane

mbti: estj

enneagram: 4w3

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

element: fire

bio

steph was born in oakland, ca to a couple freshly out of college. the couple ended up moving up to astoria, oregon where her father was originally from when steph was still a baby

the couple split up when steph was four, and her mom moved up to seattle for a job as an art teacher - and so began steph's time spent between the two towns

steph loved art and music from a young age, influenced heavily by watching her mother and her love for it. her father, though, was the first to float the idea of an private arts high school that was not far from where he lived in oregon, and steph jumped at the chance, and begged her mom to let her attend

steph took to the school like a duck to water, embracing her talent in music, and getting to explore other areas in the arts provided there.

during her senior year, though, her father died during a heavy storm from a fallen tree limb and electrical wire. with the loss of her father, steph isolated herself, finishing school was purely to open the escape route out to college back home in seattle.

she attended college, changing her focus to video game design - a passion that felt so separated from everything else. but it wasn't long until her old loves came back, and she threw herself into the music scene fully, making friends and having her favorites of local bands.

it was there where she met her first real girlfriend, izzie. she fell in love quickly, and the two formed their own music group, that very quickly took off in the seattle music scene, especially amongst the queer scene.

the two found minor success elsewhere around the US, finding blips of listeners anywhere from phoenix to little towns like rolling springs, pa. the two gathered what little money they had, and started a tour across the country, offering to do jobs on a short-term basis everywhere they went for some extra cash.

their stop in litwick was the longest stay they'd had found. before they wound up in litwick, their longest stay anywhere was a little over two weeks in denver, co, where steph will admit was mostly because they spent more money on weed than they should have

but something about litwick resonated with steph in a way that nothing really had in a long time, and weeks had turned to months in the small town. when conversations about leaving sprung up, steph dismissed them or changed the subject. she took a job at the local music shop, magical melody, working as a clerk, while izzie bounced impatiently between the books & the bees, dupont's grocery, and reece's bar and grill.

eventually the ignored conversations came to a head, and became a fight. izzie demanded to keep moving, and steph couldn't quite bring herself to leave. the couple broke up, and izzie left, returning back home to seattle, and after an extended depressive episode, steph found her footing in litwick, ingratiating herself into the town, and during the last 4 years in town, was promoted to manager at magical melody, and only sometimes has existential crises about having stayed put, and the stagnation that has come with her decision.

[rabbitcruiser]

Public Art, Denver

Joel Swanson, ATLAS assistant professor and TYPO Lab director, created the light-based installation, “Y/OURS,” which hangs in a Denver alley. The white "Y" blinks on and off every two seconds, questioning notions of what we own individually and collectively. The 4-inch by 4-foot by 20-foot structure, made of LED rope, steel, electronics and cabling, was commissioned by the Downtown Denver Partnership for Happy Cities Denver, a six-week, citywide art intervention that took place in Denver from May 18 through June 30, 2018. The project’s purpose was to break down personal, emotional and social barriers, while nurturing individual and collective well-being through art and related programming. 

Source

“The Buzz” by Bobby Magee Lorenz

Address: 1625 17th Street , Denver, CO 80203

This mural isn’t located near the others listed above, but I wanted to include it because it was one of my favorites! Finding this mural was pure luck and was a fun surprise to discover while walking to Union Station. (Located on 17th, between The Oxford Hotel and Amante Coffee.) The butterflies, bees and hummingbirds are painted on both sides of the alleyway as well as the overhead walkway.

Source

[scarisd3ad]

The grabbed | Vance hopper x f!reader

Chapter seven

Previous>>masterlist

Warnings - kidnapping, death, description of death, pedophilia, sexual assault

Holy shit I’m finished with this next two fics will be a cedric diggory (hp) fic and a re write of found you :)I originally was going to make the ending angsty but then I decided that y/n deserved better. If you guys want the angsty ended I will give it to you guys though lol

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0 days

It was 8 o'clock in the morning and both Gwen and Bruce stood in Gwen's kitchen yet again. Gwen stood at the phone waiting for an answer and Bruce sat at the table. elbow sat on top with his head presses against his palm, as his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Finally someone answered.

"Denver police department. This is Barbara how may I help you?"

"Hi this is gwendolyn blake again, is detective walker, and detective wright there?" Gwen asked. Barbara sighed lightly before Gwen heard the light tape of the keyboard before she replied back "yes ma'am they are I'll transfer you to them now." After a few more seconds Gwen heard detective wrights voice on the other line.

"I think I know where the grabber lives" she said. Instantly the detective asked where "7741 cherry street" Gwen replied.

Once she hung up the phone both kids were off on their bikes towards the house. Peddling as fast as their feet could take. Faster, and faster, and faster until the cherry street sign came into view. Just as quick as they pulled into the street so did a few police cars and an ambulance.

-

Y/n's pov

I sighed as I leaned my head against Vance's shoulder. "You alright?" He muttered, I nodded "yeah...yeah I guess" I replied. Then we heard the large metal door begin to open. The door had been left open that day, as a part of alberts game he played. I just assumed it was albert at first until the door opened entirely to reveal my father standing behind it. His eyes were widened as he stared at vance and I.

"Holy shit" he muttered, "holy shit, holy shit" my bottom lip wobbled as I pushed myself up off of the mattress and onto my feet. "Daddy?" I was free, he would call the police and they'd lock albert up for life. I'd go back up to Durango and live with my mother, and maybe possibly come back to visit bruce. I sprinted over to him and wrapped my around around his torso. "Please call the police help us he's gonna kill us if you don't" I whispered as tears fell down my cheeks. "I-I knew he was hiding something down here" dad muttered as he rubbed at my back. "Please hur-" then I screamed as my dad collapsed in my arms. An axe now plunged into his head. "Dad..daddy oh my god" I cried as I watched as blood pooled out of my dads lifeless body. "You see what you did?" Albert said staring down at me. "This is all your fault you made me kill my brother."

I cried out as Albert pulled the axe out of my dad head and began to stalk towards me. I pushed myself back, scooting away. Whimpering, almost begging vance to help. But he didn't he just sat there staring up, almost frozen still. Albert kneeled down next to me dropping the axe before wrapping his hand around my neck. I cried out and lungs burned. "St-stop" i muttered out as Albert pushed me onto the wall closest to the door. He pulled out a small pocket knife and pressed it against my abdomen. I trembled in fear "Let go" I cried out as I pulled at his hand wrapped around my neck. "V-vance" I cried, I could see vance behind alberts shoulder. Vance stood up walking over towards Albert and I. My lungs burned as I tried to breathe. His hand tightening around my throat as I gasped, tears building up in my waterline. Vance grabbed both of alberts shoulders pulling him down as a random burst of strength helped me pull my leg up and knee albert right in the crotch. Right before he let go the knife plunged through my skin. I cried out as I scrambled to my feet pressing my hands to my stomach as Albert cried out in pain. Albert groaned out as I watched vance straddle albert and punch him repeatedly in the face.

Bam..bam…bam

Blood poured out of alberts nose as he laughed. Vance pushed himself up off of Albert eyes widened, fists still clenched. “You’re tough kid, you remind me of a younger me” Vance scoffed as he breathed heavily. “I’m nothing like you.” Albert groaned as he wiped his nose free of the blood and wiped it onto his shirt before sitting up. “Really?” Albert raised his eyebrows as he stood up. He stalked towards us. I took a step back with every step forward he took. “The way you protect y/n reminds me of how I protect my ‘friend’ when I was younger.” Albert was finally close enough to me to the point I was pressed against the wall. “She was just about y/n’s height dark hair eyes that would light up the dark sky.” Vance tried to step between albert and i but that just ended up with vance being shoved. Vance groaned as he hit the floor with a thud. “But he took her away. And god dammit I won’t let you do that too.”

Albert placed his hand under my chin pushing it up so I was making eye contact with me. “Dawn was mine, but he took her away. now y/n’s mine, and god dammit I won’t let you or that asshole Bruce yamada take her.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt alberts breath against my cheek. I felt alberts lips press against my cheek. I opened my eyes quickly staring over at vance begging for help. Tears well up in my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut yet again letting a few fall down my cheeks as I felt alberts lips trailing closer and closer to my lips. “Stop” I cried trying to push him away, “stop it, stop it please” I said before using all my strength to push him off of me. Albert fell on his ass right in front of me. I didn’t waste anytime sprinting away from him. Turning the corner towards the bathroom. I heard alberts heavy footsteps behind me. I jumped across the hidden hole and grabbed onto the cord pulling it so it tightened up. Albert was right behind me so he instantly tripped falling into the hole. The loud snap of his ankle causing me to squeeze my eyes shut and Albert to let out a scream. I got up and grabbed the toliet tank lid and raising it above my head. “I-I thought you loved me y/n”

“Not anymore” I whispered before bringing it down over his head. Blood splattered over the walls, me, everything in at least a 3 to four foot radius. I looked up to see vance standing there eyes widened. I quickly looked back down at alberts body before raising it back over my head.

I brought the lid down onto his head over and over. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you” i muttered everytime I brought the lid down onto his head. I knew he was dead, but I needed closer, billy, griffin, and Vance did too. He needed to be dead. And I needed the proof of his mush of brain left all over me and the walls. “Y/n?” Vance whispered breaking me out of my murderous State. I dropped the lid letting it shatter on the ground. “Let’s go.”

I nodded stepping around my uncles dead body and towards vance. Once I was right in front of him I engulfed him in a hug. Wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my bloody face into his shoulder. Sobs emitting from my throat. Vance akwardly wrapped his arms around my torso as he slowly rocked us side to side. “It’s over” i muttered.

“It’s over” Vance replied before I pulled away. I stared down and wiped my tears before looking up at vance. “Let’s go” he nodded, we both walked back into the main basement area. I avoided looking at my dads body as we walked past and towards the stairs. I just couldn’t look, I didn’t think I could mentally take it. We both walked up the stairs and through the empty house and to the front door. Vance opened the front door revealing the glass door. I looked around for Samson normally just opening one of the doors would summon him.

Just like clockwork Samson arrived barking up a storm. “Hurry” I whispered as I watched vance take the lock in his hands. I stuck my hand out letting samson smell in, let him recognize the sent. Albert had ways of calming samson down sometimes he’d just shout at him but sometimes if Samson finds you familiar just sticking your hand out letting him smell you he’d sit and calm down. But he’d only do it for albert and I. Not my dad.

Samson turned around trotting back to his spot on the couch lowering his barking.

23317

Then the lock fell the the ground with a thud. Vance pushed the door open and we both walked out. Sat across the street pressed against the fence was bruce, and Gwen. More and more police cars pulled up to the house all piling into the house across the street. Bruce lifted his head up in response to Gwen tapping his shoulder. His eyes widened as his eyes landing. He quickly stood up and sprinting towards me, tears building up in his eyes. “Oh my god y/n. I thought I lost you” he whispered into my shoulder as he engulfed me in a hug. I sighed as I wrapped my arms around him. I watched as a emt walked up to vance who stood a bit behind me. He said something to Vance I couldn’t really comprehend my thoughts were racing. Bouncing off my brain and ricocheting back. And then the emt escorting Vance towards the ambulance. Everything, every sound, thought was echoed faded. I didn’t think I was going to make it this far. Was I dreaming was that why everything waa begining to sound faded. I hoped, prayed that I wouldn’t wake up. Hoped it wasn’t just some made up dream, so fantasy I was having as I died.

“This is real right?” I asked as I clung to Bruce, I didn’t want to risk letting go and never seeing him again. “I hope so” he whispered back tightening his grip around me. We both pulled away and Bruce looked down at a large bloody patch covering the bottom of his white shirt. “Woah, are you alright?” He said his eyes softened as his face contorted into a worried expression. “I’m fine” i said as I lifted my shirt a bit to see a gaping wound in my stomach. “No, no you aren’t come on let’s get you some help” Bruce said grabbing my hand dragging me towards the ambulance that vance sat in, a blanket wrapped around him as the emt worked on a few of Vance’s wounds some recent some old, some major some minor. But he definitely needed hospitalization from the look of a large infected wound on the side of his torso. “She’s bleeding do you think you can fix her up?” Bruce asked. The emt turned around and nodded “one second sit right there kiddo” he said. I nodded and took a seat next to vance while Bruce took a seat on the concrete. Staring up at me concern still lingered over him. The emt dabbed at Vance’s wound before saying. “We’re probably gonna need to take you to the hospital don’t think we can treat it here” before taking a large enough bandage and covering it so it wouldn’t get worse. Then he turned to me. “We’re ya bleeding from kid?” The emt was younger probably in his mid twenties. He had blonde neatly styled hair and brown eyes. I lifted up my shirt to reveal the wound. The emt sighed before grabbing the alcohol wipes and wiping the left over blood from the wound. I winced and squeezed as eyes shut as the alcohol entered my wound.

“Mom?”

I looked over to see vance staring up at a lady. Same blonde hair and blue eyes so I knew it was his mom. She had tears in her eyes as vance stood up and ran to her. She wrapped her arms around him tightly hugging him. “Vance, oh my god. I thought you were gone” she said as she cradled his face in her hands. “I missed you momma” he whispered to her.

“We won’t be able to treat this here kid we’re gonna have to take you to the hospital”

“C-can I come with her?” Bruce said standing up. “Sorry kid you can’t only parents or guardians.”

-

I sat in my hospital room. Bruce laid on the couch while I stared up at the tv watching the news. I few knocks on the door pulled me out of my trance. “Come in?” I said assuming that it was a nurse coming to check on me, since I did have some blood loss. I heard the door open as I turned my head back towards the tv. The police had tried to contact my mom but all they got was my stepdad telling them she was supposed to be here. They wouldn’t tell me what they found in the basement across the street either. “Hey” I turned my head to see Vance. He was showered now and dressed in new clean clothes. “Hey” I whispered as he walked towards me. He pointed towards the spot next to me and I nodded scooting over so he could sit. He climbed up onto the bed and sat next to me. “So weres you mom?” I asked, “she’s out in the waiting room passed out” he whispered laughing lightly. I smiled to myself, he was even more prettier all cleaned up no blood, or dirt. “Did they get a hold of yours?” He asked. I shook my head staring down at my hands. “Just my stepdad.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes taking in the weird feeling of not having to worry anymore. Being with each other but not having that underlying dread of not making it out. “Hey Vance” I whispered, I don’t know why but I just randomly had the guts to tell him. Tell him I liked him even when I wasn’t even certain that I did. “Hm?” He hummed “I have something to tell you but don’t be mad at me ok?”

He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at me. “I’m not fucking promising anything” he said. I sighed as I stared at my jittery hands. “Just fucking say it” I nodded and looked up at him. “I think I like you” he stared at me eyes widened, my breath hitched as I squeezed my eyes shut. I fucked up.

“No, no-no you can’t” he whispered.

“What?” My eyebrows furrowed, my voice laced with confusion. “You can’t like me you just can’t.”

“If you don’t like me its f-“

“It’s not that I don’t fucking like you” he said as he scooted away from me. “It’s just that you can’t, I’m me. What if I hurt you”.

“You’re not a monster vance” I whispered as I took his hands in mine. “Everyone in this town thinks I am” he muttered as tears filled his eyes. “I-I’m just a kid, and everyday, everytime I walk by anyone they flinch or walk faster”

“I’m violent y/n, I’ve almost killed people”

“I don’t care!”

“Dammit I just can’t I’m sorry y/n”

“I’m- I’m gonna go” he whispered before I felt him stand up. I quickly grabbed his arm pulling him back down. “Y-“ I hugged him, my arms tightened around him as tears fell down my cheeks. He pushed me off of him

“I told you! I fucking can’t!”

3rd pov

Vance hated himself, the moment that door slammed shut he knew he fucked up. She liked him, she actually liked him and he threw it away, because he thought he wasn’t worthy of her love. But someone finally loved him. Finally someone loved him for him other than his mother. No girl not even a boy liked him for him. But he just showed her how much of an asshole he was by pushing her away, shouting at her.

He sighed as he squeezed his eyes shut letting tears fall down his cheeks. Why was he him, why couldn’t he be someone else why couldn’t he be like Bruce. She definitely didn’t like him now.

Y/n cried and cried. She kept contemplating why she was letting a stupid boy upset her like this, why she let Vance hopper upset her. She used to be scared of him but now she hated him.

Vance wanted to go back into her room, apologize, hug her back. Tell her he liked her too. But would she even accept his apology. Maybe. That’s what motivated him to turn around and go back in. He pushed the door open to see y/n now curled up turned towards the opposite direction. Quiet sniffles and sobs coming from her. He slowly walked over and sat down. Y/n turned as she felt the bed dip. She furrowed her eyebrows as she saw it was vance. “Why are you-you back?” She whispered. “I’m sorry” he replied. Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes before pulling her blanket over her body a bit more. “I just I thought that I didn’t deserve you, and I guess I-I proved it by yelling at you” he whispered. “You don’t have to forgive me, you don’t even have to like me anymore. I’m a fucking asshole.” Y/n reached out from under the blanket and grabbed his hand. He turned around furrowing his eyebrows. She tugged on his arm until he laid down next to her. She took one of her hands and placed it onto his cheek before pressing her lips to his. It was weird the past week had been full of negative thoughts, emotions, events. But somehow she felt happy, happy in his arms. This just felt right “I forgive you” she whispered pulling away before pressing her lips back against his.

Taglist

@ellemfaoh @lanadelraystan @crustlover @graywrites20 @eddiesange1 @colbysbrocks @dopepersonacloudllama @ahmya-4 @edenthebean @tw-inkl-e-tit-s @starlightmoon1234 @vance-hopper-lover

[tmbgareok]

THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS ARE ON THE ROAD.

Here’s a quick summary of ALL the stuff that’s happening…

We are proud to announce that our 2 new benefit shows for FEEDING SAN DIEGO in July sold out in 8 minutes on Friday. These shows are for a very good cause, and playing the Belly Up is always a blast.

They Might Be Giants are on tour of across the US, and ALL 80 previously announced shows have sold out.  International touring begins this fall. The Australian tour are on sale now, and shows are selling out. The UK tour has already been extended with new dates in England, Scotland, and Ireland

NEW YORK STATE!

We are HEADLINING the Pleasantville Music Festival on July 7th! Tickets are on sale TODAY, and here is the link to get them before the spambots

www.pleasantvillemusicfestival.com Go!

UPDATE: All our Australian shows have now SOLD OUT. Adding additional shows being investigated right now.

ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, NORTHERN IRELAND, REPUBLIC OF IRELAND

Manchester - SOLD OUT    Leeds - SOLD OUT    Bristol - SOLD OUT    London - SOLD OUT

More shows added!

Southampton https://bit.ly/tmbg110323

Cambridge https://bit.ly/tmbg11040523

London https://bit.ly/tmbg11040523 (2nd!)

Glasgow https://bit.ly/tmbg110723

Newcastle https://bit.ly/tmbg110823

Belfast https://bit.ly/tmbg111023

Dublin https://bit.ly/tmbg111123

Nottingham https://bit.ly/3FsY39L

We are excited about these additional dates and hope to see all y’all at these new cities! Note there is a new, SECOND, London show!

and WE ARE PERFORMING WITH SPARKS AT THE HOLLYWOOD BOWL THIS SUMMER!

Download a free exclusive song at TMBGshop dot com and be automatically signed up for a pre-sale ticket code later for the Hollywood Bowl show, or just get some free exclusive songs!

TMBG concert-goers in the WESTERN US

Salt Lake City, Denver, Boulder, Fort Collins, Lincoln NE, Kansas City MO, Tulsa, Dallas, Houston, and Austin: All of these shows have been successfully rescheduled and April, and all of them are sold out. Go to TMBG dot com and find your show. All original tickets are still valid and will be honored at the door!

THESE ARE FAQ for this WESTERN US FOLK

Q: I can’t find my original tickets. What should I do?

A: –Search your emails for “They Might Be Giants” or the name of the venue – your tickets or a receipt will probably appear.

–If you purchased your tickets through a big ticket agency like Ticketmaster, you had to start an account, and you will be happy to find that your tickets are still in that account right now.

–If you still can’t find the tickets, call or email the venue’s box office and ask for help. They are a much better bet than Ticketmaster. They’ll be able to find your tickets by searching your name or the email address you used with your purchase. (Be sure to provide them with the same email you purchased your tickets with—it won’t work any other way!)

Q: Are They Might Be Giants still going to perform all of Flood?

A: Yes, we are. The show is two sets, with no opener (or “An Evening with…” as they say in show business). We are on the stage EARLY-like 8pm typically. Please don’t arrive late because we aren’t going to be able to wait for you.

PLEASE WEAR A MASK TO OUR SHOW!

A note from John F.: Can you believe it? It’s 2023 and while it’s slowed down a lot, people are still getting COVID? Know folks who got it two weeks ago? We do too! We’ve got 1 request: wear a mask to our shows! Not a demand. Just a request. Just sayin’. If you are violently opposed to this idea, don’t wear a mask, but spare us your hot takes. We’ll spare you ours.

[modestvm]

PENNY, 24, GMT; SHE/HER. | if you’re hearing VIENNA by BILLY JOEL playing, you have to know GABRIEL MOORE (HE/HIM; CIS MAN) is near by! the THIRTY-FOUR year old HISTORY PROFESSOR has been in denver for, like, THREE YEARS. they’re known to be quite OBSTINATE, but being ALLOCENTRIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble JACOB ANDERSON. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those WANDERING EMPTY MUSEUMS, THE GLOW FROM A LAPTOP SCREEN and ROLLED-UP SHIRT SLEEVES AND V-NECK JUMPERS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough! 

full name: gabriel isaac moore. nicknames: gabe, abe. gender and pronouns: cis man, he/him. age: thirty-four. sexuality: bisexual. date of birth: july 15th. zodiac sign: cancer ( loyal, creative, sensitive, insecure. ) place of birth:  bristol, england. occupation: assistant professor of history, university of denver.

born and raised in bristol, the youngest of three with two older sisters. as a diplomatic service officer their father was away more often than not, so gabe was raised by his mother and sisters.

his interest in writing, reading and history was a curveball. aside from his father, the rest of the family's interests were firmly rooted in stem. they were ( perhaps justifiably ) worried that gabriel's interests would not give him much success in life. but he was determined to pursue his passion and after graduating top of his class at bristol uni for undergrad, went on to get his master's and phd in history at st andrew's.

moved to london after graduation wondering what to do with himself and fell into teaching. completed his teaching qual and sought out a role teaching history whilst continuing to research and publish occasionally on the side to keep up with developments in the academic world.

( tw: car accident, injury, depression & ptsd ) was cycling to work as per usual one day when he was hit by a drunk driver at a crossing. he woke up just short of a week later to a shock. gabe had been lucky, really. at least, that's what everyone said -- at the time he couldn't only think that was a cruel thing to say. his right leg had been amputated, originally below the knee but complications did not go his way and so shortly after he became an above knee amputee. otherwise, he was pretty much unscathed - scars here and there the only thing to show of his ordeal now.

slightly reeling and with nothing to really do during his recovery, gabriel turned back to the work he loved. this was something of a relief to friends and family as, not unexpectedly, gabe was diagnosed with ptsd and depression immediately following the accident and suffered during much of his recovery. by no means have either of those things become a non-issue in his life, but they have dissipated and significantly and well, when all else fails… there’s always throwing yourself into work or looking after someone else. he wrote a monograph, a social history of black africans in renaissance england that was eventually published just under five years ago now.

riding on the back of the book's success, a desire to return to academia and for a change of scenery he began applying for jobs. the offer from the university of denver came through and he took it and uprooted to denver. this was where his family’s relief was dampened; they thought it was a rash decision ( they weren’t wrong, but gabe was never one to change his mind once it was set and they knew it ) 

gabe has been in denver for three years now, comfortable in his position at the university but also keen to engage with as many people as possible. he runs a sort of 'history 101' evening class at the community college for anyone to attend.

wanted connections page ! gimme literally everything pls.

[hvnyz]

| if you’re hearing YOU SIGNED UP FOR THIS by MAISIE PETERS playing, you have to know ZELDA “ZIGGY” ABRAMS (SHE/HER; CIS WOMAN) is near by! the 30year old BARISTA AT GREEN THUMB CAFE has been in denver for, like, FIVE YEARS. they’re known to be quite RECKLESS,but being RESILIANT seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble SOFIA BLACK D'ELIA. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those DOG-EARED ROMANCE NOVELS, OAT MILK LATTES AND PATCHWORK TATTOOS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the RIVER NORTH ART DISTRICT long enough!

pinterest || connections and wanted connections

BASICS

FULL NAME:  Zelda "Ziggy" Adira Abrams NICKNAME(S): Ziggy, Zigfield AGE: 30 DATE OF BIRTH:  October 13th, 1993 PLACE OF BIRTH:  Chicago, Illinois CURRENT LOCATION:.  RINo district, artists alley apartments ETHNICITY: Ashkenazi Jewish, Italian GENDER: Cis Woman PRONOUNS: she/her SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual RELIGION:  practicing Judaism OCCUPATION:  barista at green thumb cafe, spring romance writer FACECLAIM: Sofia Black D'elia

PHYSICAL TRAITS

HEIGHT: 5'3 WEIGHT: 121 pounds HAIR COLOR: Brown  EYE COLOR: brown PIERCINGS: her ears are pierced three times each TATTOOS:  roses on her left forearm, a panther on her right shoulder, and “mother” in a heart on her right arm, the pride and prejudice (2005) hand holding scene as a tattoo, random tattoos throughout creating "patchwork" sleeves SCARS|MARKS: n/a SIGNATURE SCENT: Le Labo Santal 33 

PHOBIAS AND DISEASES

MENTAL ILLNESSES: Generalized Anxiety PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: N/a PHOBIAS: acrophobia

RELATIONSHIPS

MOTHER:  Miriam Abrams FATHER:  N/A SIBLINGS: wanted connection coming soon RELATIONSHIPS: tba PETS: Maine Coon named Papaya

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC SIGN:  Libra MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good FAVORITE FOODS: potato pancakes, dairy free butter chicken with garlic naan, eggplant parm. FAVORITE COLOR: lavender LIKES: getting tattoos, romance novels, learning new makeup techniques, dancing on bars, karaoke, DISLIKES: the smell of gasoline, the sound of babies crying, raspberries.  HOBBIES: spending too much time in the bookstore, clubbing, drinking, and buying makeup she doesn't know how to use.

HEADCANONS

Ziggy's favorite movie next to the original Scream is Pride and Prejudice (2005) Ziggy writes fluff-based fan fiction under a pseudonym Ziggy has been writing her novel since she was 25 Ziggy is loosely based off of Fiona Gallagher and Lorelai Gilmore. Ziggy drives a beat up, on it's last leg, jeep wrangler.

BIOGRAPHY

PAST,

Homelessness tw, teen pregnancy tw adoption mention tw brief death mention

Zelda "Ziggy" Adira Abrams didn’t have a real home until she was 12 years old. Her mother Miriam had her at just 16 years old, and the two lived in and out of homeless shelters, run-down apartments, and friends’ places throughout her childhood. Up until they moved into an actual home, she had never known anything other than moving around, being a nomad, herself, and her young mother.  

Ziggy, named after Zelda Fitzgerald but nicknamed after the infamous David Bowie persona, was resigned to raising herself as well as her mother. She had to grow up and be an adult from a young age, from circling job ads in newspapers and making sure they made it to the shelter on time to get a room, or at least to eat. There was never any real room to be a child.

It was Ziggy and her mother alone for a good while, until when she was five years old. A five-year-old Ziggy had no idea why her mother’s body was changing, she just knew that sometime later they were inside a hospital, there was a baby in her arms,  and then suddenly, there wasn’t.  They walked out of the hospital, just her and her mother, alone again. Ziggy would learn many, many, many years later, that her mother gave her little sister up for adoption.

Ziggy learning to read and loving to read is credited to her mother in many ways, the first being that her mother would take her to the library during the day to keep warm and have something to do, and Ziggy needed an escape from everything. It started with princesses in high towers being rescued by their prince and turned into sometimes cheesy, but often thrilling, romance novels. Ziggy fell in love with love.

When they finally got a real home, it was only because her grandmother passed away, leaving the three-bedroom home to her only daughter, Ziggy, and her mother Miriam moved right in.

It was all rather the same Ziggy needed to raise both herself and her mother, except this time her mother had landed herself a job, a waitress at a diner at night. During the day, Ziggy would go to school, and a night her mother would head off to work, leaving the young girl alone to her own devices.

But ultimately, Miriam Abrams wasn’t the mother a young girl needed. She didn’t get the puberty talk, she wasn’t taught how to do her hair or makeup, these were all things she had to pick up from magazines. She learned to cook enough to feed herself, but she was barely allotted a childhood, having to be the adult her mother wasn’t. No pretty dresses or elaborate bat mitzvahs paid for by her mother's boyfriend could make up for it.

Ziggy left the first moment she could. With a high school diploma, 1,000$ to her name, and a bus ticket, she was off to California, as far away from her mother as she could possibly get.

Ziggy slept on couches again and worked odd jobs until she found something more permanent as a waitress,  paying 30 dollars a night to sleep in a bedroom that had a curfew of 10:00 pm. She didn’t go to college. She had no direction whatsoever. She just wanted to experience life.

So experience she did, she lived in California, Seattle, and New York, and finally, she landed herself in Colorado, just her, her beat-up little jeep wrangler, her books, and a few garbage bags filled with clothes.

PRESENT

That was five years ago now, and Ziggy has been the happiest, and the most stable she's ever been. She's got a dream job as a barista at the Green Thumb, reading, and writing romance novels in her free time. It's her dream to be published, to walk into a library and see her name amongst her favorites, but for now, just writing them is enough. She lives in Artist's Alley Apartments in RINo and has an orange Maine Coon cat named Papaya. She still has no idea what she's doing, but she's happy and having fun trying to figure it out. She sends her mother money once a month.