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Aug-UST Day 17 - From rival factions
Some original fiction of character ideas that have been rattling around in my brain for a while now, based on a prompt from @thepromptfoundry
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I heave against the barn door and in a horrible cacophony, it grinds closed. It's still cold as hell, but at least we're out of the wind and snow.
I should probably place wards on the doors... and windows... and...
I glance up at the roof of the barn where wind whistles through more than a few holes that need patching. Yeah, no amount of warding is going to make this place defensible. Honestly, it's probably better not to use any magic at all, lest we give away our position.
That and I'm completely exhausted, I very much doubt I have any effort to spare for a half decent ward.
Getting eaten by zombies on the wrong side of the Iron Curtain was not how I imagined myself going out.
A hiss of a match brings my attention back to the here and now. Katerina is stooped over a glass lantern that shortly casts a sickly yellow light over the room. For a moment, I get that same brief impression of too many shadows around her. Spending a week with her has done little at temper the strangeness of her magic to my senses, that blend of traditional Eastern European craft and whatever the hell the Soviets have been dreaming up.
She straightens, bearing the lantern aloft and peering around the room as she carelessly brushes the curtain of her dark hair behind her ear. The flickering lamplight casts her bony features in sharp relief, and it really isn't that hard to imagine her as some witch living in a hut in the woods that walks around on chicken legs. There's something hard yet beautiful about her. She's...
"Elizabeth, you are bleeding," she says cutting through my thoughts.
I raise a hand to the wet spot on my temple.
"It's just a scratch," I reply. "It looks worse than it is."
She frowns and strides towards me.
"Let me see," she demands.
"It's nothing," I insist, probably sounding petulant, which is not at all my intent.
"It is not nothing if those beasts hunt by smell."
Damn, she's got me there.
She sets the lantern on the ground and takes my head in her hands. Her touch is surprisingly gentle as she makes her examination.
My heart speeds up at the touch.
Get it together Liz, I tell myself. She's the enemy.
Is she though?
Only a few months ago, our two nations were bearing down on one another in the waters between Cuba and Florida. Even the mundane world understood how close everything had come to all going to hell.
Right now though? Here in this barn in the East German countryside? We are just two witches, just two women united against a common enemy.
She murmurs something in a language I don't recognize and a blessed warmth flows through me, centering on the cut on my scalp.
Her eyes meet mine, those dark pools of intensity captivating me. The gaze lingers. The gentle touch of her fingers against my cheek linger. Her eyes flicker to my lips briefly, erasing any doubt that she hasn't felt the exact same feelings that had been haunting me.
Unbidden, my breath hitches. We are so close, it would be the easiest thing in the world to close that distance between us.
This is...
This is a terrible idea. At the end of the day, common enemy or no, we are still agents of rival governments.
I watch as the exact same thought plays out in her head. Something in her expression closes off and she jerks her hands away.
"We should get some rest," she mutters. "We will both need all our strength in the morning."
"Yeah..." I agree reluctantly.
#my writing#writers on tumblr#lesbian#fantasy#writing prompt#hey look my cold war urban fantasy girls have finally seen the light of day!#so basically i had this dream a few years ago about going into East Germany to team up with a Soviet wizard for some reason#(i think we had just seen the film adaptation of Man from UNCLE so that's definitely a huge influence)
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What would Nico’s reaction be to Lex wearing a sundress and a bow in her hair
A/N: Let’s use this to set the stage for 🌸 anon’s upcoming request… Also, I wanna go on vacation with these five. Damn.
The skirt of my sundress swirls around my thighs as Emma and I walk to join the boys at one of the resort restaurants. We are currently vacationing together as a family in Miami. The team has a few off days in southern Florida, so Emma and I flew down with Lio to spend some time soaking in Vitamin D. The gorgeous Atlantic vibes are the perfect compliment to our first dinner here. Nico and Timo had gotten sick of waiting for us to finish getting ready in mine and Nico’s room, so they took Lio down to the bar for a beer.
We find them sitting on bar stools, chatting with the bartender as Lio sits on the bar with Timo’s arm around him. Lio is blowing spit bubbles and the group of women to the left of the boys are entranced.
“Oh my god I want a baby!” One of them moans. Lexi can see the allure as her and Emma approach. Lio is so cute. A happy baby that loves to suck on his toes and spew baby giggles at any exciting noises or tickles.
“Bbbbbb.” Lio bubbles, spit dribbling onto the surface as his hands patty cake on the bar top.
“So he’s already had his first sip of beer?” Emma chuckles as she comes to her husband. She wraps an arm around his large shoulders, not even glancing to the women that were obviously hitting on our husband’s just now. I give a look, noticing how all of them deflate at Emma Meier’s presence. Yeah, she’s that beautiful.
Nico’s arms find my waist as he glazes his eyes along my dress. He likes what he sees. It’s a white dress with a linen fabric. Dainty, blue flowers with yellow centers create a busy pattern. The skirt is short, accented by the wedge heels I’m wearing. I feel his fingers slid along the backs of my thighs, teasing his way a bit under the hem to grab my butt.
“Easy access tonight.” He whispers in my ear as I sit on his thigh. He has no idea. “You wearing panties?” He questions as his fingers trail higher. I shake my head no. “Lex.” He groans, resting his forehead on my shoulder. I curl it inwards so I can kiss the top of his head. Now the group of women have looked away all together at seeing me with Nico too. Good. He’s decidedly taken.
Lio reaches for Timo’s cold glass of beer, trying to gum at it with his mouth.
“Buddy, you’re making it look like I actually gave you beer.” Timo chuckles, moving the glass. Emma picks it up, taking a sip and sighing at the flavor.
“Damn, that hits on a humid night.”
“You want one?” The bartender asks, motioning to both of us.
“Yeah, we have some time before dinner.” Nico encourages. As he responds, his thumbs brush along my bare hips under my dress.
“A little less of that.”
“Why? Can’t handle it?” I say nothing, just give a little wiggle of my hips that makes him squeeze me in response. “Hey. Not fair.”
The bartender sets two beers down in front of the boys, who funnel them back to us. Lio tries to grope for it.
“Okay, I have to ask..” Emma begins.
“No, babe. I did not give our 7 month old beer.”
“Okay. Well, daddy has different rules than mommy sometimes.” She widens her eyes at me.
“Yeah about bedtime, not alcohol consumption.” He taps Emma’s ass making her hide her grin in Timo’s side.
They look so cute together as a family of three. Nico and I have been discussing kids on and off the last few months. We haven’t been married long, but I ache for a baby with him. Spending time with the three Meiers the next few days is going to heighten that desire.
“He didn’t do it. Only because he said he was scared of you.” Nico laughs, thumb stroking across the top of my thigh, igniting fire. I close my eyes and take a sip of beer to stay centered. He is so calm beneath me, like he has no idea what his fingers are doing to me.
“Good. I like him that way.” Emma leans forward to close her lips over Timo’s.
The four of us fall quiet for a moment, watching Lio try to wiggle over to the group of girls I forgot about. He likes their glittering dresses and bubbly drinks on the bar.
“Just like his dad.” Emma jokes, picking him up and resting him on her hip. Lio leans forward to suck at her shirt on the side of her breast. “Again, like his dad.” We all laugh, appreciating the baby chuckles that shake Lio in response.
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As AI-powered image generators have become more accessible, so have websites that digitally remove the clothes of people in photos. One of these sites has an unsettling feature that provides a glimpse of how these apps are used: two feeds of what appear to be photos uploaded by users who want to “nudify” the subjects.
The feeds of images are a shocking display of intended victims. WIRED saw some images of girls who were clearly children. Other photos showed adults and had captions indicating that they were female friends or female strangers. The site’s homepage does not display any fake nude images that may have been produced to visitors who aren’t logged in.
People who want to create and save deepfake nude images are asked to log in to the site using a cryptocurrency wallet. Pricing isn’t currently listed, but in a 2022 video posted by an affiliated YouTube page, the website let users buy credits to create deepfake nude images, starting at 5 credits for $5. WIRED learned about the site from a post on a subreddit about NFT marketplace OpenSea, which linked to the YouTube page. After WIRED contacted YouTube, the platform said it terminated the channel; Reddit told WIRED that the user had been banned.
WIRED is not identifying the website, which is still online, to protect the women and girls who remain on its feeds. The site’s IP address, which went live in February 2022, belongs to internet security and infrastructure provider Cloudflare. When asked about its involvement, company spokesperson Jackie Dutton noted the difference between providing a site’s IP address, as Cloudflare does, and hosting its contents, which it does not.
WIRED notified the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children, which helps report cases of child exploitation to law enforcement, about the site’s existence.
AI developers like OpenAI and Stability AI say their image generators are for commercial and artistic uses and have guardrails to prevent harmful content. But open source AI image-making technology is now relatively powerful and creating pornography is one of the most popular use cases. As image generation has become more readily available, the problem of nonconsensual nude deepfake images, most often targeting women, has grown more widespread and severe. Earlier this month, WIRED reported that two Florida teenagers were arrested for allegedly creating and sharing AI-generated nude images of their middle school classmates without consent, in what appears to be the first case of its kind.
Mary Anne Franks, a professor at the George Washington University School of Law who has studied the problem of nonconsensual explicit imagery, says that the deepnude website highlights a grim reality: There are far more incidents involving AI-generated nude images of women without consent and minors than the public currently knows about. The few public cases were only exposed because the images were shared within a community, and someone heard about it and raised the alarm.
“There's gonna be all kinds of sites like this that are impossible to chase down, and most victims have no idea that this has happened to them until someone happens to flag it for them,” Franks says.
Nonconsensual Images
The website reviewed by WIRED has feeds with apparently user-submitted photos on two separate pages. One is labeled "Home" and the other "Explore." Several of the photos clearly showed girls under the age of 18.
One image showed a young girl with a flower in her hair standing against a tree. Another a girl in what appears to be a middle or high school classroom. The photo, seemingly taken discreetly by a classmate, is captioned “PORN.”
Another image on the site showed a group of young teens who appear to be in middle school: a boy taking a selfie in what appears to be a school gymnasium with two girls, who smile and pose for the picture. The boy’s features were obscured by a Snapchat lens that enlarged his eyes so much that they covered his face.
Captions on the apparently uploaded images indicated they include images of friends, classmates, and romantic partners. “My gf” one caption says, showing a young woman taking a selfie in a mirror.
Many of the photos showed influencers who are popular on TikTok, Instagram, and other social media platforms. Other photos appeared to be Instagram screenshots of people sharing images from their everyday lives. One image showed a young woman smiling with a dessert topped with a celebratory candle.
Several images appeared to show people who were complete strangers to the person who took the photo. One image taken from behind depicted a woman or girl who is not posing for a photo, but simply standing near what appears to be a tourist attraction.
Some of the images in the feeds reviewed by WIRED were cropped to remove the faces of women and girls, showing only their chest or crotch.
Huge Audience
Over an eight-day period of monitoring the site, WIRED saw five new images of women appear on the Home feed, and three on the Explore page. Stats listed on the site showed that most of these images accumulated hundreds of “views.” It’s unclear if all images submitted to the site make it to the Home or Explore feed, or how views are tabulated. Every post on the Home feed has at least a few dozen views.
Photos of celebrities and people with large Instagram followings top the list of “Most Viewed” images listed on the site. The most-viewed people of all time on the site are actor Jenna Ortega with more than 66,000 views, singer-songwriter Taylor Swift with more than 27,000 views, and an influencer and DJ from Malaysia with more than 26,000 views.
Swift and Ortega have been targeted with deepfake nudes before. The circulation of fake nude images of Swift on X in January triggered a moment of renewed discussion about the impacts of deepfakes and the need for greater legal protections for victims. This month, NBC reported that, for seven months, Meta had hosted ads for a deepnude app. The app boasted about its ability to “undress” people, using a picture of Jenna Ortega from when she was 16 years old.
In the US, no federal law targets the distribution of fake, nonconsensual nude images. A handful of states have enacted their own laws. But AI-generated nude images of minors come under the same category as other child sexual abuse material, or CSAM, says Jennifer Newman, executive director of the NCMEC’s Exploited Children’s Division.
“If it is indistinguishable from an image of a live victim, of a real child, then that is child sexual abuse material to us,” Newman says. “And we will treat it as such as we're processing our reports, as we're getting these reports out to law enforcement.”
In 2023, Newman says, NCMEC received about 4,700 reports that “somehow connect to generative AI technology.”
“Pathetic Bros”
People who want to create and save deepfake nude images on the site are asked to log in using either a Coinbase, Metamask, or WalletConnect cryptocurrency wallet. Coinbase spokesperson McKenna Otterstedt said that the company is launching an internal investigation into the site’s integration with the company’s wallet. Metamask is owned by Consensys, and while the tech company was unaware of the site prior to WIRED's reporting, it has now launched an investigation: “We will need to determine how our Terms of Use are implicated and what steps would be appropriate to ensure the safety of our users and the broader web3 ecosystem."
WalletConnect did not respond to a request for comment.
In November 2022, the deepnude site’s YouTube channel posted a video claiming users could “buy credit” with Visa or Mastercard. Neither of the two payment processors returned WIRED’s requests for comment.
On OpenSea, a marketplace for NFTs, the site listed 30 NFTs in 2022 with unedited, not deepfaked, pictures of different Instagram and TikTok influencers, all women. After buying an NFT with the ether cryptocurrency—$280 worth at today’s exchange rate—owners would get access to the website, which according to a web archive, was in its early stages at the time. “Privacy is the ultimate priority” for its users, the NFT listings said.
The NFTs were categorized with tags referring to the women’s perceived features. The categories included Boob Size, Country (with most of the women listed as from Malaysia or Taiwan), and Traits, with tags including “cute,” “innocent,” and “motherly.”
None of the NFTs listed by the account ever sold. OpenSea deleted the listings and the account within 90 minutes of WIRED contacting the company. None of the women shown in the NFTs responded for comment.
It’s unclear who, or how many people, created or own the deepnude website. The now deleted OpenSea account had a profile image identical to the third Google Image result for “nerd.” The account bio said that the creator’s mantra is to “reveal the shitty thing in this world” and then share it with “all douche and pathetic bros.”
An X account linked from the OpenSea account used the same bio and also linked to a now inactive blog about “Whitehat, Blackhat Hacking” and “Scamming and Money Making.” The account’s owner appears to have been one of three contributors to the blog, where he went by the moniker 69 Fucker.
The website was promoted on Reddit by just one user, who had a profile picture of a man of East Asian descent who appeared to be under 50. However, an archive of the website from March 2022 claims that the site “was created by 9 horny skill-full people.” The majority of the profile images appeared to be stock photos, and the job titles were all facetious. Three of them were Horny Director, Scary Stalker, and Booty Director.
An email address associated with the website did not respond for comment.
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𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕗𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕥 ℂ𝕙. 𝟙
|| Pairing || - Dilf!Andy Barber x Reader
|| Warnings || - None so far hehe. Actually, andy barber is a warning himself. Very fluffy and slow burn-ish? Reader is 20 and Andy is early fifties 😀 so yea, but of an age difference. This is in first person too.
|| Summary || - It’s the summer before junior year of college and your neighbor can’t seem to keep his hands off you.
|| A/N || - IM BAAAACCCKK AAAHHH ahem sorry. I literally started writing in this acc and then dipped and now I'm getting back Into it hehe, I cant help myself. But yayyty this is the first chapter of my first series and I'm so excited omg omg
|| Word Count || - 2.8k
There was a light breeze that turned the tip of my nose cold, enough to tickle the hair on my face that removed me from an enticing trance. Six, seven months, maybe since the new family moved in known as the barbers. They had a past, I'm sure of it but who the hell am I to bring it to the present? I mean, for whatever reason they moved here, it was to escape and though marathon wasn't paradise on earth, it cut close.
The for sale sign on their clean-cut lawn lasted as long as a blink, the listing to our left being sold as soon as it was on the market and that sparked many eyes to center on it. But that lasted a week and only that before the barbers deemed this villa to be their retreat in the cruel world that surrounded them. No one knew who they were or what happened that caused them to move from the chilly climate of Boston to the humid one of the Florida keys. But they're here and they've piqued my interest.
“Honey, are you dressed?” it was a voice, one aged yet high pitched, belonging to my stepmother Rose. She was nice, she liked my father enough to stick around when he had arrogant outbursts but those weren't introduced to her until he was engaged to her. She was tall, slim, and at the age where all her veins were prominent against her skin but she pulled you in with stories of where she seemed to live another life. It made me wonder how she ended up here, with my father, and taking all his shit when those stories she told could live on.
Maybe that's where I came in. to pass her stories onto me and do my best to make my own. “You're 20, you have so much ahead of you.” Those were her words, ones she repeated to me many times as if she wished to tell herself that at my age. Either way, it was too late to feel bad for her but she was right. I'm only 20 and I, like her, would like to tell stories to young women that reflect me at this age.
“Coming,” I called through the door and backed away from my bedroom window, shutting it after myself. There was already an ache on my shoulder from the weight of the bag I prepared for a day on the sandbar, an extra bathing suit, an extra set of clothing, sunscreen, a hat, and a book to indulge me later on. I twisted the handle that opened to the narrow hallway of the beach house my father bought in 2000 and he's been accustomed to renting out to families that escaped the north and decided my summer before junior year of college was a good time to put it to use.
Rose stood in the kitchen, hunched over sandwiches she made to keep our stomachs from rumbling in the dead center of the sea. She also packed salt and vinegar chips, my favorite which she made a point to always have on hand when I craved a snack. Not a word left my mouth as I stepped past her to the patio, watching as my father used the freshwater hose to clean the inside of the boat. “Hey, sweetheart, hand me the cooler would you?” My father asked, his arms outstretched and his eyes switched from my own to the cooler on my left. A nod from my head prompted me to grab the handles on either side of the blue cooler, lifting it and straining slightly as I heard the movement of ice inside of it. “Jeez,” I said, lifting it above my hips in an attempt to hand it to him easier and he removed it from my grasp without much effort. A huff left my lips as I trained my gaze over the docks that lined all the beach houses, a weird way to set up a neighborhood if you didn’t own a boat.
“Where’s rose?” My father asked and I removed my bag from my shoulder, sighing in relief at the loss of weight off my shoulder as he placed it in the storage compartment at the front of the boat. “She’s inside getting the food. I’ll start locking up.” I spoke, unsure if what I said processed through his head since he was the type to act as if he was at times and I wasn't certain if that included now or not. My hand reached for the keys that hung above the outdoor freezer, usually used to store bait and fish. He flaked and gutted which made the keys in my hand smell. It also wasn't the best idea to have the keys in such an open space but surprisingly crime was low here and the worry about intruders was not a common one. “Don't lock up, yet. We’re still waiting for the barbers.”
My body tensed at the name, the step I was about to take to the side entrance contracted my muscles and a wave of numbness pushed through me. I tightened my grip on the keys in my hand, surely making a mark in a jagged manner due to the shape. “The barbers, father?” I cringed at myself for a moment, knowing I reserved the endearment for when I was conflicted and looked to him for some false sense of security but what does he know?
“Yeah, they’re joining us but they should be here already.” He looked to his right, their house tall and prominent in his view but the windows or doors showed signs of life. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, a sound I didn’t want to be accustomed to yet the familiarity of it started to push that wave of numbness again. Torn in two, my mind attempted to look for the decision of if I should go inside and dread meeting them until Rose was with me or turn on my heel and give them a blinding grin.
I don’t know why I was scared to meet them, maybe the small anxiety of having to make conversation or the itching curiosity of why they were even here needing to be answered but a conclusion was made for me. “Sweetheart, come say hi.” my father's deafening voice rang behind me and I gulped the lump in my throat that formed without my notice. I dangled the keys in my hand, allowing them to jangle and I pulled back my shoulders to straighten my posture. My mind made quick laps to gather whatever information I already knew about them and all I could sum up was Mr. Barber is a defense attorney, Mrs.barber was a teacher, and their son was six years my junior. Great, prepubescent, and raging hormones.
I turned around, a grin on my face as I looked over the new faces and almost made a sharp intake at first glance. one thing is for certain, striking looks ran through the family. I picked up my feet, stalking towards them with hesitant steps and a vague idea of how to even approach them. “This is my daughter.” my father introduced my presence, the weight of all their eyes on me as I held my hand out towards Jacob who stood the closest to me, and shook his hand. I held back a grimace, feeling the clamminess of his palm and comparing the difference between his and his mother's that felt like a plush felt.
I shook Mr. Barber's hand, the contrast between ours; his calloused and rough, mine delicate and chaste. “Nice to meet you, Darling.” He smiled, his blue eyes piercing into my own as his large hand enveloped mine, a charm from the small action emitting from him. There was a palpitation in my chest at the pet name he gave me in such a short amount of time of knowing him, telling me he was an affectionate man, one that didn’t have many boundaries. “Nice to meet you as well.”
The loud shut of the side door caught my attention, Rose exited the house and struggled a bit to balance a platter and a large bag. Feeling a slight of pity, I walked up to the patio and grabbed the bag, the familiar heavyweight back on my shoulder making me pout. We neared the dock once more and Rose introduced herself to the barbers as we all piled into the boat. “Thank you,” I muttered to Mr. Barber as he held my hand to assist in my descent into the shallow boat, taking my seat at the front to pull in the ropes that hooked us from drifting away.
Jacob made himself comfortable next to me and I smiled warmly at him. “So, what school do you go to?” he yelled over the growling engines that cut through the water and I shook my head. “I don't go to school until I reach the fall.” I shrugged with my sentence and he nodded, vaguely keeping his interest in me. I held back an eye roll and looked over my shoulder toward the back of the boat. Mr. Barber leaned into Mrs. Barber's ear, a joke he made causing her to laugh and hide in the crook of his neck.
His eyes met mine, only for a moment at least, as he tilted his head. I blinked before turning around and facing the front of the boat once more. Our destination was already in sight because there were a few other boats anchored in comfortable positions, drifting slowly from the waves we made in tow. The loud growl of the boat engines began to stutter to a stop, finally being able to speak to one another without yelling at the top of our lungs.
“Think you can toss the anchor?” I hear my father call over his shoulder to Mr. Barber, watching as he chuckled dryly at him. “You insult me.” Mr. Barber stood, slipping past me on his way to the tip of the boat, opening the compartment where the anchor is stored, and held it just over his shoulder. My eyes trailed the hand he had holding the anchor, moving down towards his bicep which bulged due to the weight, the veins in his forearm presenting themselves just under his skin. Subconsciously, I crossed my legs and turned away as I heard the splash of the anchor hitting the water.
Mr. Barber opened the storage compartment, reaching for the red-striped bag that Laurie had brought with her. “Here, honey.” He smiled at her as she now stood beside me, Jacob and I standing together as I grabbed my bag. Making my way towards the back of the boat, I removed my ragged shirt that has seen better days, and my shorts that were now tighter than I’d like after the half rack of ribs I consumed last night. I stuffed my clothes into my bag, placing it inside the bait well before hanging my legs over the side of the boat and jumping in.
The water was perfectly warm due to the piercing sun shining over it. I sunk into the salt water just under my chin before turning onto my back, enjoying the laxity of floating above the waves. “Beautiful day, huh?” Mr. Barber's voice interrupted my serenity and I stood on my feet, blocking the sun out of my eyes to obtain a better look at him. “Mhmm.” I nodded, looking at the ripples of his torso, the structure of his muscles is something he’s surely worked for and still maintained at his age.
“How old are you?” He asked and I looked at him curiously. “Turned 20 a couple of months ago,” I answered, my fingers each dipping into the ocean that surrounded me, and watched as the small droplets fell from the tips. “Fun age. Getting drunk, knocking out on the couch of your friend's dorm. The good old days.” He smiled, reminiscing his younger years as he ran his hands through his hair. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t drink.” I commented, ready to swim back onto the boat for some light reading.
“I get it. You’re a good girl.”
I looked at him and his eyes were dark, the blue of his eyes now a thin ring around his pupils. A logical reaction to his words has yet to cross my mind as I stared at him blankly. “Sweetie, come here!” Laurie called for him and I watched as he took two steps back before turning and walking back toward the boat.
Ignoring what he said, I continued to drift yet his words seemed to tattoo themselves onto the side of my brain.
—-~—-
I pulled the back of the sundress down, the length not exactly keeping me modest. It was navy with bundles of pink and white flowers printed onto it, the build of the dress wrapping my waist in a flattering manner. After the sandbar the day prior, the barbers kindly invited us to dinner, an outing on their dime. For a scarce small town, it still had its fair share of restaurants that had forks on the left and knives on the right and to place napkins on your lap.
“It’s under the name Barber, a reservation for six at 8:30.” Mr. Barber greeted the host with a smile and he scrolled through the large tablet before him as he nodded his head, confirming the reservation. “Right this way, please.” The host piled 6 menus in his arms, leading us through the restaurant. The ambiance was nice, dim but just enough light to maintain the aesthetic they’re going for. The white cloth of the tables was soft and crisp as if they just arrived from the dryer and we all took our seats.
I took notice to my left, watching as Mr. Barber claimed the seat there and rose to my right, all of us looking around the room in awe as we took in the others who dined as well. “What a nice place.” My father commented as he straightened his button-up. I nodded along, placing the aforementioned napkin in my lap, and took a sip of the water the waiter came and served us. “It’s gorgeous here, Andy. We can’t thank you enough.” Rose smiled, looking past me at Mr. Barber and I followed her eyes. For a moment, I saw his eyes flicker from my thighs to Rose, clearing his throat as he smiled at her. “Truly, it’s my pleasure.”
“So how’s it been at the office with George? I imagine he simply couldn’t sit still and do his homework.” Rose jokes, placing her hand on my father's arm. I let out a small breath, realizing now that the night would mostly be filled with questions made for the adults, telling me that I am now sided with the likes of Jacob. I looked over at him, seeing his face slightly illuminated, most likely by a gaming device just under the table.
“Office talk is the last thing I want to speak about at the table, honey. Did we tell you? Italy is absolutely beautiful this time of year…” My father continued and I drowned him out as he began to recall our first outing to Europe back in 2017 yet I couldn’t be bothered to listen to him rave about the beer and women there once more.
Then, a small gasp left my lips. The feeling of a large warm hand grazing the side of my left leg caught me off guard, almost making me tip the glass of water in my hand. My eyes turned to Mr. Barber who gave me a small smirk, his hand tucked behind my knee as his fingers smoothed over my skin. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the room surrounding me suddenly feeling smaller and hotter.
“Have you considered studying abroad, sweetheart?” Laurie said, looking over at me. I stared blankly at her for a moment before clearing my throat as I conjured up an answer. “Possibly, but for now I like where I’m at.” I gave her a weak smile as his hand trailed further up the side of my thigh, the tips of his fingers playing with the seam of my dress which I cursed at the short length. My hand stopped his own before he could progress, digging my fingers into his skin as a motion to stop but it seemed to urge him more. “That’s a nice dress, darling. Compliments you well. Doesn’t it?” Mr. Barber smiled kindly as if he secretly wasn’t making a move on his office partner's daughter under the dinner table. “Yes, you look gorgeous.” Laurie agreed and I couldn’t help the blush that crept onto my cheeks, more likely due to the hand that was causing my skin to feel as if it was on fire.
“Thank you.” I uncross my legs, dropping them both on the seat under me and tucking my napkin under the side of my thigh, sneaking small glances at Mr. Barber as a waiter introduced himself to take our orders
#andy barber#andy barber x reader#Andy barber smut#Andy barber angst#andy barber x female reader#dilf!andy barber x reader#dilf!andy barber#andy barber x 20yr! reader#Chris Evans characters
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Another MIT alum! Meet Carolyn Beatrice Parker, the first Black woman to earn a postgraduate degree in Physics. Born in 1917 Florida, Carolyn was one of six siblings who all attained some form of advanced science degree --to include mathematics and chemistry. Her father, Julius A. Parker, was himself a physician and was the second Black American to attain a Ph.D in business from Harvard. Encouraged by such an unusually dedicated family, Carolyn herself graduated magna cum laude with a bachelor's degree in mathematics from Fisk University in 1937, and then earned her Master's in mathematics from the University of Michigan in 1941. To fund her graduate studies, she taught physics and mathematics at a number of schools and universities in Florida and then in Virginia, but her career path would take an unusual detour once the United States entered World War II.
Between 1943 to 1947, Carolyn was recruited to the Dayton Project, one of the divisions of the Manhattan Project. Based at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and spearheaded by the Monsanto Chemical Company, the Dayton Project is perhaps most famous for cracking the Enigma code, but the bulk of the project was primarily focused on extracting and developing polonium as the neutron initiator (detonator) for an atomic explosion. Parker's background in electronic testing and infrared spectroscopy made her an ideal fit despite the twin disadvantages of race and gender --while there were other women on the project, Carolyn was the only Black woman. According to her family the work was so top-secret that Parker couldn't discuss it with anyone --and in fact the details of her work remained classified until the late 1960's.
After the war Carolyn took a job as an Assistant Professor at her alma mater Fisk University, and then in 1952 she worked as a physicist attached to the geophysics research division at the Air Force Cambridge Research Center (Cambridge, Massachusetts). In 1953 Carolyn earned her second Master's in physics at MIT --the first Black woman to earn a postgraduate degree from that institution. [Abstract: Range distribution of 122 Mev (pi⁺) and (pi⁻) mesons in brass, Thesis (M.S.) Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Dept. of Physics, 1953]
Parker then completed and submitted her coursework for her Ph.D. --sadly she never got the opportunity to defend her doctoral dissertation as she was diagnosed with leukemia. Sustained exposure to polonium excretion during her time on the Dayton Project was almost certainly the root cause, and while workers on the Dayton Project had submitted to weekly tests for radiation exposure, the process was inexact --anecdotally one colleague wrote about Parker's "unruly hair," which may have become contaminated, as the head coverings at Dayton had been designed for the short, finer hair of white men. Parker died in 1966 at the age of 48 and her achievements were largely forgotten by history, until very recently.
In August of 2020, an elementary school in her hometown of Gainesville, Florida that had originally been named for a Confederate general, was formally (and unanimously) renamed by the Alachua County School Board as Beatrice Parker Elementary School.
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Riordanverse OC Profile: Emilio Victor (V.) Silverio-Azarello
Full Name: Emilio Victor (V.) Silverio-Azarello
Alias/Nicknames: Em, V., Dark Knight, Styx's Problem Child, River Boy
Godly Lineage: Styx (mother), Kymopoleia (ancestor), Guabancex (ancestor)
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Birthday: August, 7th
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Species: Demigod
Language: English, Spanish, French, Portugues, Cantonese, Ancient Greek
Hairstyle, Hair Color: Undercut with Medium Fade, Obsidian Black
Eye Shape and Color: Upturned and Obsidian Black
Lip Shape: Bow Shaped
Nose Shape: Straight
Face Shape: Oval
Body Type:
Mesomorph
Swimmer-toned physique
Extra Traits:
Birthmarks
Left Cheek Bone
Right Collarbone
Left Shoulder
Scars:
Right shoulder, hydra claw
Left oblique, sword
Height: 5'10
Skin tone: Almond Brown
Ethnicities: Puerto Rican, Dominican, Brazilian, Spanish
Style of dress: Natural, relaxed but functional. Jeans, running sneakers or hiking boots, t-shirts or plaid long sleeves, a pair of rings in one hand with one ring on the opposite. Colors of olive green, forest green, black, grey, and white.
Personality: At first glance, they appear self-centered or intolerant but on closer inspection, they're pragmatic, honest, and compassionate, especially to those who've been harmed or wronged unjustly.
Strengths: Adaptability, Perseverance, Humility
Flaws: Pushes others away, self-confidence
Fatal flaw: Excessive Personal Loyalty
Likes and Hobbies: Latin American and Italian coffee, medium-rare cooked meats, martial arts tournaments, dogs, cats, and otters
Dislikes: Promise breakers, liars, heavy sweets, and people pleasers
Voice: Crisp and ethereal
Fears or Phobias: Atychiphobia
Favorite Color: Sea Green
Favorite animal: Otters
Favorite possession: N/A
Favorite food: Churrasco steak with rice, beans, and fried yuca root
Least Favourite food: War Heads
Love interest: N/A
Best friends: N/A
Friends: N/A
Enemies: N/A
Rivals: N/A
Powers:
Hydrokinesis (Includes):
Water Immunity
Water Solidification
Water Empowerment
Toxikinesis (limited)
Atmokinesis (Includes):
Aerokinesis
Storm Spirit Communication
Oath Binding (Includes):
Necromancy
Umbrakinesis (Includes):
Shadow Travel
Odikinesis
Hypnokinesis
Enhanced Strength
Enhanced Durability
Enhanced Stamina
Weapon(s):
Oath's Bane (multi-formed weapon, Kali/Eskrima sticks initially form)
Kali/Eskrima Sticks: Stygian Iron/Silver
Baat Jaam Do (Butterfly Sword): Stygian Iron/Silver
Luk Dim Boon Kwun (6 & 1/2 Pole) Stygian Iron/Silver
Fighting style(s):
Unarmed:
Wing Chun
Kali/Eskrima
Pencak Silat
Kickboxing
Jiu Jitsu
Armed:
Swordsmanship
Wing Chun
Kali/Eskrima
Pencak Silat
Archery
Backstory: Born to a reformed criminal turned lawyer, Emilio grew up in Tampa, Florida, and was raised by his father, Enrique, who served in the state attorney office of the city. Emilio didn't care for much as his father provided all he needed but never allowed his son to have anything without fulfilling some promise or obligation. An effective method to prevent his son from becoming a spoiled brat, Enrique enrolled the young boy in multiple martial arts schools to help him develop discipline and mental fortitude especially given that he could potentially become a target because of his father's past.
During hurricane season when he was seven, Emilio saw three women from his window in the middle of the bay. They appeared to be arguing as the hurricane became more violent so did the body language of those women. To his surprise, they all pointed in his direction and he ran to his father as he was in the middle of going over a case. Comforting his son, Enrique assured Emilio he was safe and that his eyes were playing tricks on him. Eventually, the young boy would peer into the veil that was the Mist and question what happened during that storm and why one of the women stared at him with a mix of pain, contempt, and something else...
#percy jackon and the olympians#the kane chronicles#heroes of olympus#magnus chase and the gods of asgard#trials of apollo#the sun and the star#riordanverse#riordanverse oc#riordan universe#son of styx#pjo oc#hoo oc#toa oc#Emilio Victor (V.) Silverio-Azarello
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(Center work by Laura De Valencia)
Morean Arts Center in St. Pete, Florida, is currently showing Fresh Squeezed 7, their annual exhibition of emerging artists in Florida. It’s a great opportunity to see some of the best artwork being done by local artists. The exhibition closes 6/22/23.
From the the Morean Arts Center’s press release-
As always, our selection panel culled over 120 applications from across the state, narrowing the exhibition down to the six artists featured here. It’s always a joyful and heartbreaking process, seeing so much inspiring good work and only having a limited amount of space in which to show it all.We were looking for diversity in medium, in ideas, and in geographical location, all of which somehow comes together to form a delightful, cohesive whole. While we don’t necessarily plan it that way, themes and commonalities do emerge among the artists selected for the exhibition. We’re happy to announce this is the first year that we have an ALL FEMALE line up. And due to the inclusive interpretation we use to define an emerging artist (no previous solo shows in Florida), you’ll find artists here who are still pursuing their MFAs (KJ Skidmore and Leeann Rae) AND artists who are returning to their first love of art after finding fulfillment in decades of other related careers (Latonya Hicks and Deborah W. Perlman).
Other themes you may notice as you peruse the galleries are the inventive (and exuberant!) use of materials. Denise Treizman and Latonya Hicks both incorporate cast off, recycled and vintage materials in their dimensional wall work. While Denise’s process is more spontaneous and Latonya’s is deliberate and measured, they both create joyful works of art that invite contemplation and perhaps a spark of recognition from the viewer. KJ Skidmore and Laura De Valencia both deal with contemporary issues and pop culture in their work, though to wildly different effect. KJ’s humorous mixed media paintings address the notion of the male gaze, and the women who must endure it. Laura’s installations use fashion culture as a jumping off point to raise questions about international stereotypes and the borders (both visible and not) that immigrants have to experience on a daily basis. Both Leeann Rae and Deborah W. Perlman create work that challenge the viewer to look longer, and to think deeper. With their disparate materials (Leeann with soft pastel and Deborah with cut paper), they raise notions of space, whether physical or mental, real or imagined, in the present or a memory from the past.
KJ Skidmore “Squeeze ‘n’ Block”, Acrylic and coffee
KJ Skidmore “Angel’s Bar”, Acrylic, fabric, trim, paste and wood paper
The work above is by Tampa based artist KJ Skidmore.
Morean Arts Center’s information about the artist-
KJ’s current work is based in painting/drawing that extends into3-D space through multimedia installation. Her immersive spaces are chaotic and aggressive, but at the same time alluring. She works within her own bizarre and disjointed narratives and themes containing warped textual elements, strange cartoon characters, and color palettes that are both grimy and fluorescent. Her material use is variable and may include masses of hair clumped together with canned beets, pink stained carpet, fabrics, wood, plaster, teeth, rain jackets, and Smurf-themed objects. KJ’s painted series Burger Time caricatures leering male clientele as flat, monster-like cartoons that interact with a staring waitress to explore gendered tropes and forms of voyeurism. This series reconstructs reality in relation to being female by presenting experiences like getting stared at or groped within a hokey themed attraction called “Burger Time” restaurant. Her series is meant to revolt the viewer through acknowledging the male gaze, while also celebrating its trashiness and the culture surrounding it. She uses humor to poke fun at this harmful and uneven power dynamic. The series presents this sickening concept through more palatable presentation such as expressive cartoon figures and bright colors. KJ is from Gainesville, FL, but was living on the West Coast until recently. She is back in Florida pursuing an MFA at USF in Tampa.
Latonya Hicks, “One girl to another”, Glass, tile , precious stones, yarn, cord, roving, beads, acrylic paint, applique’ basket, corn husk dolls, sweater, scarf, antique book, resin and paper
Latonya Hicks, “Deep into that darkness peering”, Glass, tile, precious stones, roving, beads, acrylic, clay, palm tree, balsa wood, feathers, twine, cardboard and charcoal
Latonya Hicks is an artist living in Clearwater. She holds an an MFA from the School of the Museum of Fine Arts/Tufts University, Boston, MA, and a BFA from FSU.
The artist discusses her work in the Morean Art Center’s exhibition documentation-
“Drawing on an obsession with objects as an accumulation of human experience and personal references, I create densely layered, figurative compositions from my ‘dragon’s hoard’ My eye is most often drawn to cultural symbols, shiny objects and artifacts that evoke the comfort of resting in my grandmother’s kitchen with her draped in brightly patterned dresses indicative of the 60s and 70s. During my formative years I struggled to feel ‘enough’ around my extended family. My grandmother’s house in Macon was always a safe place where my ‘blackness’ was never called into question; where my existence, femininity, beauty and speech patterns were always enough. “For years my style of dress was a private documentation of my desire to pay homage to the safety she provided. I’d scour thrift shops and flea markets for trinkets and clothing that made me feel connected to that time and place. Her house was lost in a gang fire and with it everything I built my early visual language on. In much the same way that I used to ‘collect’ and fill my hoard using my body as the canvas now my WORK is about time, relationships and memories in order to invent a visual language that represents MY experience – which feels paradoxically fractured and whole. My sense of self was and is a hybrid structure; a multiplicity of experiences equivalent to my work.”
Deborah W. Perlman, “Shelter Us”, Mixed media
Deborah W. Perlman, "Nature-Tecture" and "Nature Tecture #2", Mixed media
Deborah W. Perlman, "Somewhere Between", Mixed media
Deborah W. Perlman is originally from Baltimore but currently lives in Hollywood, Florida. She is a graduate of Boston University (BFA, sculpture) and Cranbrook Academy of Art (MFA, sculpture).
Quotes from the artist from Morean Arts Center's documentation-
"Depicting an 'almost-but-not-quite-real world somewhere between authentic and imagined, my art celebrates ambiguity, sliding in and out of reality, and compelling me to challenge previous ideas and established thoughts. "I find excitement and mystery in three-dimensional forms and spaces. Creating wall-mounted sculpture draws me in, challenging me to go beyond what I know and uncover what I don't. It's thrilling yet at times unsettling, continually bringing me to new awareness and understanding. Simply put, the work frees my spirit. "My goal is to create spaces that challenge the senses, evoke emotion, and ask you to consider: What is it? Where is it? What do you see and feel? Do you find yourself in it, or not? "Inspiration has come from many personal experiences throughout the years. Recently, global issues such as climate change, prejudice and divisiveness are finding their way into my work. "I'm currently working with paper, photographs, wire mesh, flat aluminum wire, wood, plastic, and adhesives, and continually looking for new materials to integrate into each piece. Building three-dimensional forms, I adhere each element to the base, then juxtapose them to highlight their points of contact and the shadows they cast. "I invite you to glimpse into my interpreted world and find your place within it."
Denise Treizman (l to r) "Untitled (All In), Handwoven textile, LED light and ductape; "Untitled (The Christmas Tree I Never Had)", Strings, tape and tinsel lights on canvas; "Untitled (Wrapping Grip)", iridescent paper, tape and rope on canvas
Denise Treizman "Untitled (Pink see through)", Iridescent paper, plastidip paint, glass, frame and duct tape
About Denise Treizman from Morean Arts Center-
A Chilean-Israeli artist, Denise Treizman earned an MA from the School of Visual Arts, New York, and is currently a studio resident at Laundromat Art Space in Miami. Her work has been exhibited across the US and internationally. She has completed numerous artist residencies including those at Mass MOCA, North Adams, MA; NARS Foundation International Artists Residency, Brooklyn, NY; and the Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts Studio Program in New York City, where she developed her work until 2019. Denise creates sculptures and installation-based works combining found objects and ready-made materials with brightly colored, textural, and sometimes luminescent weavings. Through a practice of gleaning and repurposing, she accumulates materials with no specific purpose in mind, except having them at hand and available to subtly shape the creation of her works. Her process is at once an act of artistic ownership over her materials as well as a playful exploration of the infinite possibilities that they afford her. Denise critically examines hyper-consumerism, but at the same time, she paradoxically participates in it, relying on commercial goods and throwaway culture to make her work. She exposes her own way of dealing with excess: on one hand, she questions the real need for vibrantly patterned single-use materials, like pink flamingo-printed duct tape, or violet bubble wrap, to exist. On the other one, she finds these playful materials to be absolutely irresistible. By incorporating them into her found object installations and unconventional weavings, she prompts the viewer to reflect on the mass-produced society in which we live.
Leeann Rae, "It never ends", Charcoal and soft pastel
Leeann Rae, "The death of the maiden", Charcoal and soft pastel
About Leeann Rae from the gallery-
Based in Central Florida, Leeann Rae's work is an exploration of memory through drawing. Using charcoal, soft pastel, and ink, Leeann makes large scale drawings to encourage the viewer to question their understanding of memory. Leeann is currently an MFA candidate at the University of Central Florida. During her time in this program, she has received several accolades such as the College of Arts and Humanities scholarship and a graduate assistantship which has given her the opportunity to teach fundamental drawing classes at UCF. "My work is an investigation of how we understand episodic memory, the act of recalling specific events or episodes from one's past. I utilize photographic references, imagination, recounted stories, and my own lived experience as vessels of recollected memories. I develop drawn images with charcoal and soft pastel because they can be layered and difficult to erase. The inherent qualities of my materials leave a ghost or remnant of the original thought or mark placement. I hope viewers are encouraged to navigate the narrative I present in the drawings, as well as reflect on the ways in which their memories are constructed.”
Laura De Valencia, "Haute", Elevate pattern printed on PVC
Information on artist Laura De Valencia from the Morean Arts Center-
Laura De Valencia was born and raised in Barranquilla, Colombia, and initially pursued a degree in law. In 2007, she emigrated to the US, earning a BFA from the Savannah College of Art and Design. After four years working as an art director in New York City, Laura returned to Florida to start a family and pursue an MFA at Florida State University. She graduated in 2021 and has since exhibited her work in both national and international contemporary art spaces. De Valencia's work explores the ongoing experience of crossing borders that immigrants face in their daily lives in the US. The artist recognizes that the journey of an immigrant does not end once they cross the physical border into the country, as they continue to encounter a series of invisible yet significant borders such as language, legal, and social barriers. Through her artistic exploration, De Valencia studies how clothing serves as a vital form of survival for immigrants that goes beyond mere displays of wealth, class, or taste. "Fashion" for the immigrant is a borderless space that offers a means to both reveal and conceal aspects of a fragmented identity; a tool for asserting humanity or hiding vulnerabilities that threaten their physical permanence in the country. By enabling immigrants to maneuver through spaces that may be off-limits and subvert both visible and invisible thresholds, the artist reveals how a borderless system such as fashion challenges established notions of nationality and geographical borders. By highlighting the challenges and complexities of navigating multiple borders, De Valencia aims to bring attention to the immigrant's lived experiences in a way that is both meaningful and compassionate. Her ultimate objective is to heighten awareness of the social and political circumstances that define our time and foster a space for deeper conversation and understanding.
Laura De Valencia, "Margin of Error" Screen print on paper
Information about Margin of Error, seen above-
The artist created multiple screen prints of the US-Mexico border line, with a red dot representing Houston's location as a reference point. Each print was measured for the position of the red dot, and despite careful print registration, the dot never appeared in the same X,Y axis. Through this exercise, the artist reveals the imprecise and unstable nature of borders that are established through systems such as language.
#florida artists#florida art shows#morean arts center#laura de valencia#denise treizman#kj skidmore#leaann rae#deborah w. perlman#latonya hicks#st. pete art shows#fresh squeezed 7#sculpture#drawing#painting#art installation#art#art shows
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10/12-PCW Extreme Political TV
Announcers: ‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave AGE: 50 / HT: 5’ 11” WT: 195 HOME: Philadelphia, PA HAIR: Brown / STYLE: Like Ronnie Dunn / FACE: Goatee DRESS: Brown suit without tie
Colleen Crowder ‘Low Level New York Times Reporter Trying to Make a Name for Herself’ AGE: 38 / HT: 5’ 5” WT: 142 HOME: New York City, NY HAIR: Black / STYLE: Curly / FACE: Narrow face with rounded jaw, turned-up nose, faint freckles, and thin lips. Bulging blue eyes, thin eyebrows. DRESS: Black pants suit
PCW Champion: Charlie Blackwell (American Heartland) Since 2/10/2024 Contenders: ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels (Progressive Alliance) Kirk Walstreit (American Patriots) Mike the Mechanic (Main Street USA)
PCW Women’s Champion: Catherine Cline (Independent) Since 9/21/2024 Contenders: Kathryn Randall Collins (Progressive Alliance) Laura Brobert (American Patriots) ‘American Girl’ Sarah Mae Smith (Main Street USA)
PCW World Television Champion: Starz N. Stripes and ‘The One-Man Anti-Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism (American Patriots) Since 3/3/2024 Contenders: The Deplorables: Ray McAvay/’Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan (American Heartland Coalition) The Green World Order: GreenPete/’Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee (Progressive Alliance) The Sports Entertainment Corporation: Gator Bates/The Alabama Kid (SEC) Bi-Partisan Dream Team: Blue Dog D/RINO Main Street USA: Ken Worth-American Trucker/Farmer John Deer
Opening Dawn McGill’s office was a whirlwind of chaos, much like the hurricane that had just upended her carefully laid plans. She stood behind her desk, her 6-foot frame cutting an imposing figure in a form-fitting red blazer and black pencil skirt. Her medium-length blonde hair was slightly disheveled, a testament to the long night she’d endured rewriting the entire show.
“Damn Hurricane Milton,” Dawn muttered, shuffling through a stack of papers. “As if running a political wrestling company wasn’t hard enough without Mother Nature throwing a clothesline at us.”
She slammed her fist on the desk, scattering papers everywhere. The sound echoed through the room, a physical manifestation of her frustration. Dawn took a deep breath, trying to center herself.
Her eyes darted to the framed Henhouse magazine cover on her wall, featuring herself in a provocative pose. The memory of that photoshoot still made her proud; she looked pretty damn good in the photos. But more importantly, it had given her the seed money to resurrect PCW from the ashes of political discord.
Dawn’s lips curved into a wry smile. She straightened her blazer, her mind racing with potential solutions. Hurricane Milton had forced them to cancel the television taping last Thursday.
Dawn’s cell phone suddenly blared to life, playing an ironic rendition of “Hail to the Chief.” She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who was calling.
“Yes, Kamala,” Dawn answered, her voice dripping with forced patience. “No, I’ve got this under control.” She quickly ended the call, tossing the phone onto her desk with a sigh.
Dawn McGill turns to face the camera, her platinum blonde hair catching the harsh fluorescent light of her office. She leans forward, her low-cut blouse revealing just enough to keep the audience’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, PCW fans,” she purred, a hint of steel beneath her honeyed tone. “Tonight’s show had to be rewritten because of Hurricane Milton. We had to cancel our Florida house show because of the hurricane. Instead, we’re going to replay three huge PCW matches for you tonight.”
She ticked them off on her manicured fingers, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“First up, we’re going to replay last week’s barn-burner between J.D. Vance and Tim Walz. Then, the clash of titans from last month – Donald Trump versus Kamala Harris. And finally, airing for the first time ever on PCW…”
Dawn paused for dramatic effect, savoring the moment.
“…thank you, Elon Musk… we’re bringing you the replay of the Donald Trump versus Joe Biden match from June! Then next week, we will have the number one contender’s match for the PCW Women’s Title… Kathryn Randall Collins of the Progressive Alliance, ‘Colorado Gunslinger’ Laura Brobert of the American Patriots, and the American Heartland Coalition’s Sarah Mae Smith. Also next week, we will also have a #1 contender’s match between “Mr. Hollywood” Kevin Daniels of the Progressive Alliance vs. Kirk Walstreit of the American Patriots to determine PCW Champion Charlie Blackwell’s opponent at next month’s Extreme Election Night 2024 ”
“Alright, folks,” Dawn addressed the camera once more. “Let’s kick things off with Vance versus Walz. Johnny Suave, take it away!”
As the feed switched to the match, Dawn slumped in her chair, muttering, “I need a damn drink.”
MATCH #1: Tim Walz (Progressive Alliance) vs. J.D. Vance (American Patriots) with Special Referees Norah O’Donnell and Margaret Brennan of ABC News- Taped October 1st at The Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City The Hammerstein Ballroom erupted in a cacophony of cheers and boos as the opening chords of “Hillbilly Elegy” blasted through the speakers.
Johnny Suave: Here we go. It’s time for our main event and J.D. Vance is coming out first.
J.D. Vance emerged from behind the curtain, his chiseled physique barely contained by his red, white, and blue tights. The American Patriots’ golden boy raised his fists triumphantly, basking in the adoration of his supporters.
Johnny Suave: And here comes the Appalachian Avenger! J.D. Vance, looking to make a statement for the American Patriots tonight and help Donald Trump!
Vance’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd. As he strode confidently down the aisle, the music abruptly shifted to “The Internationale.” Tim Walz, the Progressive Alliance champion, slinked towards the ring, clutching a kendo stick like a lifeline. His eyes darted nervously from side to side.
Johnny Suave: And here comes Tim Walz. He looks like he’s about to wet himself.
Both men entered the ring, tension crackling between them. Special referees Norah O’Donnell and Margaret Brennan of CBS News took their positions, their expressions a mix of determination and trepidation.
Johnny Suave: This is it. The last big match before Extreme Election Night 2024. The last match between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris was a farce because of the blatant interference of ABC’s David Muir and Kinsey Davis. Let’s hope tonight is different.
Colleen Crowder: Let’s hope not. Muir and Davis were fair and so will O’Donnell and Brennan…
***
…Vance’s gaze fell on a steel chair at ringside. A wicked grin spread across his face as he grabbed it, the metal cold against his palms.
Johnny Suave: Vance has a chair.
Colleen Crowder: That is definitely not legal.
*WHACK*
Vance brought the chair crashing down on Walz’s back.
Johnny Suave: HOLY CRAP!
The Progressive Alliance champion crumpled to the mat, a pained groan escaping his lips.
Johnny Suave: And he’s going to do it again!
Colleen Crowder: STOP HIM MARGARET… NORAH!
As Vance reared back for another chair shot, Brennan stepped between them.
Margaret Brennan: We need to move on. There’s a lot of ground to cover.
O’Donnell took the chair away from Vance, who looked at her incredulously.
The crowd’s roar crescendoed as Walz, somehow finding a reserve of strength, flailed wildly at Vance. His punches were sloppy and desperate, but the sheer volume threatened to overwhelm the American Patriot.
Johnny Suave: Walz is throwing everything he’s got!
But Vance ducked under and lifted Walz, bringing him down on his knee.
Johnny Suave: ATOMIC DROP BY VANCE!
Vance rolled over to cover but… O’Donnell stepped forward yet again, her voice tinged with exasperation.
Noral O’Donnell: We really need to move on-
The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and boos, the tension in the arena palpable.
Seizing the moment of distraction, Vance’s hand found another steel chair and raised it once more.
Colleen Crowder: Where do these chairs keep coming from?
*WHACK*
Johnny Suave: HOLY CRAP!
With a resounding crack that echoes through the Hammerstein Ballroom, Vance brought the chair down on Walz’s skull. The Progressive Alliance champion crumpled to the mat like a marionette with cut strings.
Vance dropped for the cover, his chest heaving.
Johnny Suave: Vance for the win…
O’Donnell and Brennan both stood motionless, refusing to make the count.
Johnny Suave: …but O’Donnell and Brennan aren’t making the three count. What the f-
The crowd roared as a blur of blonde hair and determination stormed down the ramp.
Johnny Suave: WAIT A MINUTE! HERE COMES DAWN McGILL!
PCW owner Dawn McGill, her eyes blazing and her 6-foot frame radiating authority, slid into the ring.
Colleen Crowder: Why is she interfering in this match?
McGill glared at both O’Donnell and Brennan as she stands up.
Dawn McGill: Oh, for Christ’s sake.
Without hesitation, she dropped to the mat, her hand slapping the canvas with each count.
Dawn McGill: One! Two! Three! Ring the damn bell!
*DING-DING-DING*
The resounding thud of Dawn McGill’s hand striking the canvas for the third time reverberated through the Hammerstein Ballroom. She sprang to her feet, her blonde hair whipping around as she signaled for the bell.
O’Donnell and Brennan stood frozen, their expressions a mix of shock and indignation. Dawn’s piercing glare silenced any protest they might have mustered.
At ringside, Colleen Crowder’s carefully cultivated composure shattered.
Colleen Crowder: This is an outrage!
She shrieked, her perfectly coiffed hair came undone as she gesticulated wildly.
Colleen Crowder: McGill is overstepping her bounds! This is a clear violation of journalistic integrity in wrestling! We… the media decide who wins or loses… not-
Johnny Suave: Your winner tonight is J.D. Vance and the American Patriots strike a blow against the Progressive Alliance!
Vance stood tall in the ring, his chest heaving with exertion and triumph. Dawn raised his arm, her face a mask of determination.
The crowd’s reaction was a perfect storm of cheers and boos, a microcosm of the nation’s divided state. Some fans pumped their fists in the air, while others hurled invectives at the ring.
Meanwhile… Dawn McGill leaned back in her leather chair, a smirk playing on her glossy lips as she recalled the Vance-Walz match. Her fitted blazer strains slightly as she gestured animatedly.
“Let me tell you, folks, when those CBS prima donnas refused to do their jobs, I had to step in. There I was, in my stilettos, sliding into the ring to count the pin. One! Two! Three! Vance takes it!”
She chuckled, imagining the shocked faces of O’Donnell and Brennan. Those media elites thought they were too good for PCW? Ha!
Suddenly, her phone blared “Hail to the Chief” – Kamala’s ringtone. Dawn’s eyes rolled so hard they nearly fall out of her head.
“Yes, Kamala,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, I’m fine. Everything’s okay. Again, it’s under control.”
God, this woman is relentless, Dawn thought. Can’t she take a hint?
“Listen, Kamala, why don’t you call Ron DeSantis and ask if he needs help?”
Dawn pulled the phone away from her ear as Kamala’s shrill voice reaches new octaves.
“Oh, you did? And he told you to go what?” She stifles a laugh and takes a deep breath, centering herself. “Kamala, I’ve got this. Everything is fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a show to run.”
She ends the call abruptly, tossing the phone onto her desk with a satisfying thud.
Kathryn Randall Collins Promo The camera cuts to a dimly lit, smoke-filled backroom. Kathryn Randall Collins, dressed in a sharp pantsuit with an American flag pin, leans against a desk covered in campaign posters and strategy maps.
“Let me tell you something about Catherine Cline,” Collins snarls, her eyes blazing with contempt. “That little rookie thinks she can waltz into PCW and take what’s rightfully mine? I’ve been grinding in this political wrestling game for years, paying my dues, shaking hands and kissing babies.”
She slams her fist on the desk, scattering papers. “And what does Cline do? She jumps the line with her flashy moves and pretty face. It’s an insult to every veteran who’s bled for this business!”
Collins paces, her heels clicking aggressively on the floor. She’s fuming, her carefully crafted image cracking under the weight of her anger. How dare they overlook her years of service for some upstart?
“Now they want me to wrestle the ‘Colorado Gunslinger’ Laura Brobert and Sarah Mae ‘American Girl’ Smith for a shot at the title? Please.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I am the ‘Ultimate Political Operative. I’ve earned that shot. I deserve it. I shouldn’t have to prove myself to anyone, least of all those two second-rate politicos.”
Turning to face the camera directly, Collins leans in close, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Brobert, Smith… you’re both just speed bumps on my road to the PCW Women’s Title. And when I get there, I’ll show everyone what a real political operative can do.”
With a final glare, Collins straightens her jacket and storms off, leaving the room in tense silence.
MATCH #2: Donald Trump (American Patriots) vs. Kamala Harris (Progressive Alliance) with Special Referees David Muir and Kinsey Davis of ABC News- Taped September 10th in Philadelphia, PA The arena pulses with anticipation, the air thick with expectation as Kamala Harris’s theme erupts through the speakers. She strides confidently down the ramp, her eyes fixed on the ring that has become a battleground of ideology and ego. The audience reacts with a mix of cheers and jeers, but she is unfazed; every step is a statement, each stride exuding the poise of a seasoned political combatant.
Johnny Suave: “Kamala making her way to the ring, Colleen, and you can see she’s ready for this unprecedented matchup.”
Johnny Suave’s voice booms over the crowd’s clamor, his tone betraying no allegiance.
Colleen Crowder: “Absolutely, Johnny.”
Colleen’s bias was thinly veiled.
Colleen Crowder: “She’s been preparing for this moment, and I’m confident she’ll uphold the values of the Progressive Alliance.”
Before the echoes of Harris’s entrance fade, the familiar brassy strains of the Imperial March meld into a rhythmic chant that shakes the very foundations of the 2300 Arena. “TRUMP! TRUMP! TRUMP!” The crowd’s fervor reaches a fever pitch as Donald Trump emerges, his supporters’ voices transforming the melody into an anthem of unwavering support: “TRUMP. TRUMP. TRUMP. TRUMP-TRUMP-TRUMMMMP TRUMP-TRUMP-TRUMMMMP.”
Johnny Suave: “Listen to this crowd, Colleen! You can feel the electricity here tonight!”
Suave has to shout to be barely heard above the din.
Trump descends the ramp like a king surveying his domain, his expression one of unassailable confidence. He climbs into the ring, his presence alone commanding attention as he surveys the crowd, basking in the adulation of his base.
Johnny Suave: “Both competitors are now in the ring, and here come our special guest referees, ABC’s David Muir and Kinsey Davis.”
The two figures slip between the ropes, impartiality promised in their professional nods to each competitor.
Colleen Crowder: “Remember, Johnny, they’re here to ensure fairness.”
Muir and Davis lay out the ground rules, their voices firm despite the uproar surrounding them. They call for respect, for sportsmanship, the principles of the match echoing the grander theater of political discourse. With a final check, the bell rings, and the battle commences.
From the outset, Harris is tentative, gauging her opponent with careful moves, testing the waters of this high-stakes confrontation. Trump, however, is all aggression—a force of nature unleashed. Quick to seize the advantage, he corners Harris, his tactics as brash and unapologetic as his campaign rallies…
***
…The American Patriots’ section erupts in a chorus of boos, outraged by the audacious interference.
Johnny Suave: “Come on! That’s the third time they’ve done that! It’s three against one in there!”
Colleen Crowder: “Johnny, they’re just doing their job and calling it right down the middle.”
Colleen’s tone was laced with condescension.
Johnny Suave: “Right down the middle my ass!”
Within the ring, Trump regains control. His movements are relentless, his attacks precise. Yet, Muir and Davis insert themselves once again, this time more overtly than before, shielding Harris from Trump.
Johnny Suave: “Oh come on! How can you say this isn’t three on one!”
Colleen Crowder: “Absolutely not, they’re ensuring a fair match.”
Before another word could be uttered, the arena’s atmosphere shifts and the crowd pops.
Johnny Suave: “What’s this?”
PCW owner Dawn McGill makes her entrance.
Johnny Suave: “HOLY CRAP! DAWN McGILL IS COMING TO THE RING!’
Dawn stormed down the ramp with a fury that matches the intensity of the crowd’s excitement. She’s businesslike but her presence commands attention, much like in her Henhouse Magazine photo shoot.
Crowd: “PCW! PCW! PCW!”
Dawn slides into the ring with the grace of a seasoned pro, snatching the mic from Muir’s hand.
Dawn McGill: “What the *BLEEP* is this?”
Her gaze pierced through both referees.
Dawn McGill: “I’m calling for the bell!”
Johnny Suave: “WOW!”
Colleen Crowder: “Johnny this is outrageous!”
Johnny Suave: Dawn McGill has called for the bell and ended the match because of the poor refereeing.
Colleen protested vehemently.
Colleen Crowder: “She has no right to interfere in this match! Muir and Davis were doing their jobs-”
Suave glanced at Colleen, incredulous.
Johnny Suave: “Interfere? Are you kidding me? Where have you been all match long? She’s restoring order where these so-called impartial referees failed!”
Colleen Crowder: “My fact check says you are one hundred percent wrong.”
Johnny Suave: ‘And you know where you can stick your…”
Johnny did the air quotes thing with his hands.
Johnny Suave: “…’fact-checking.’
Trump stood tall, flashing a smug grin as he declared himself the victor. But Harris wasn’t backing down, her eyes blazing with determination as she yelled out for another match.
Kamala Harris on the Move An airport tarmac buzzes with activity as Kamala Harris storms through, her face a mask of barely contained frustration as she speaks with a group of reporters, her heels clacking against the concrete.
“Can you believe this?” Kamala fumes, addressing the Guild of Low-Level Media People. “Dawn McGill is deliberately shutting me out of tonight’s show!”
Colleen Crowder from the New York Times leans in, her eyes gleaming with the scent of a juicy story. “Tell us more. How exactly is she playing politics?”
Kamala’s nostrils flare as she launches into her grievances. “I’ve called her multiple times offering my assistance, my expertise. But she keeps brushing me off, saying she’s got it under control.”
Sharon Johns from CNN nods sympathetically, her recorder already out. “That’s simply unacceptable.”
“It’s not just about me,” Kamala continues, her voice dripping with feigned concern. “You know, moments of crisis, if nothing else, should really be the moment that anyone who calls themselves a leader says they’re going to put politics aside and put the people first.”
Hallie Reed from MSNBC jumps in, her pen scribbling furiously. “Madam Vice President, do you think this could be part of a larger conspiracy to silence progressive voices in the wrestling world?”
Kamala pauses, relishing the moment. “Well, Hallie, I wouldn’t want to speculate, but… it is utterly irresponsible and it is selfish and it is about political gamesmanship.
The reporters lean in closer, their eyes wide with anticipation. Doug Miles from the Washington Post clears his throat. “What do you think should be done about this?”
Kamala straightens her jacket, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I think it’s time for a thorough investigation into PCW’s practices. The American people deserve transparency in their political wrestling entertainment.”
The reporters nod vigorously, scribbling down her every word.
PCW Pulp Fiction Vignettes The screen flickers to life, static crackling like a thousand tiny wrestlers grappling for dominance. Suddenly, it clears, revealing a scene of utter chaos.
Jim Frascantore’s usually perfectly coiffed hair whips wildly in the wind, making him look like a deranged weatherman as he shouts into his microphone. “We’re live from Florida, where—”
A lawn chair hurtles past, missing Jim’s head by mere inches. He ducks, eyes wide with a mix of terror and exhilaration. “This is what I live for,” he shouts over the roar of the hurricane winds, “the thrill of the storm, the unpredictability of nature… and ratings.”
Mike Baddass, not to be outdone, grabs the mic from his partner. “As you can see, Hurricane Milton is-” His words are cut short as a palm frond slaps him across the face, leaving him sputtering and spitting out leaves.
SFX-the screen goes static and crackling.
The feed abruptly cuts, transporting viewers from the fury of the hurricane to a fury inside a dimly lit room in Berkeley, California. Professor McCarthy, looking every bit the stereotype of an academic elite in his tweed jacket with elbow patches, stands before a group his Flock… The Green World Order, The Legion of Anti-Fascists aka LOAF, Codee Pink, and Emily S. List. His voice drips with self-righteousness as he holds up a thick tome.
“Comrades,” McCarthy intones, his eyes gleaming with fanatical fervor, “we have a traitor in our midst. Ana Kasparian of The Young Turks has dared to think independently!”
The crowd gasps in horror, their faces a mix of shock and outrage. McCarthy continues, his voice rising to a crescendo, “There’s no room for free thought in our movement. We must purge the nonbeliever!”
The crowd begins to chant “Purge! Purge! Purge!”
SFX-the screen goes static and crackling.
The scene abruptly shifts to a furious Cenk Uygur… Kasparian’s co-host on The Young Turks, his face as red as a tomato about to burst. He glares directly into the camera, nostrils flaring, veins popping on his forehead.
“Listen up, you so-called progressives!” Cenk bellows, his voice dripping with contempt. “You want me to fire Ana for having a mind of her own? Well, here’s my response: No, *BLEEP* off!”
SFX-the screen goes static and crackling.
Suddenly, a pigtailed blur bursts into frame. It’s Gracie McAvay, Dawn’s 9-year-old daughter, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she faces the camera.
“How dare you, Howard Stern!” Gracie exclaims, her voice a perfect mix of mock outrage and childish glee. “I watched your interview with Kamala Harris. What happened to the shock jock we all knew and loved? When did you turn into such a *BLEEP*?”
“GRACIE!” Dawn’s voice rings out from off-camera, a mix of shock and exasperation.
Gracie’s eyes widen innocently, her pigtails bouncing as she turns her head. “I was going to say pussycat, Mom. And besides, that’s what Eva told me.”
A moment of tense silence follows, broken by Dawn’s voice, now tinged with a reluctant amusement. “EVA!”
As the camera pans away, Gracie leans in close, whispering with a conspiratorial grin, “Thanks for the history lesson, sis.”
Dawn’s Rebuttal The camera cuts back to Dawn McGill’s office, where the PCW owner is pacing furiously, her stilettos clicking against the hardwood floor. Her blonde hair whips around as she turns to face the camera, blue eyes blazing.
“Listen up, Kamala,” Dawn snarls, jabbing a perfectly manicured finger at the lens. “You want to talk about roles? Let’s talk about yours – or should I say, lack thereof. For three and a half years, you’ve been riding Biden’s coattails as his glorified cheerleader. And in all that time, have you lifted a finger to help PCW when we could have used one? No. When we were taken off the air in 2021 and couldn’t get back on, where were you?”
Her eyes again turned to the framed Henhouse magazine cover on her wall, featuring herself in a provocative pose.
“I got the seed money to resurrect PCW from the ashes myself and worked with Elon Musk to get us back on the air. I did the work. I made it happen. Not you. Not the government. I did.”
Dawn’s mind races. This isn’t just about tonight’s show anymore. It’s about preserving the integrity of PCW against political vultures.
“You want to accuse me of playing politics?” she continues, voice dripping with disdain. “Take a look in the mirror, sweetheart. You’re the one trying to weasel your way into my operation for a PR boost.”
She slams her hand on the desk, causing a framed photo of her with Elon Musk to rattle.
“For the record, yes, I was offered one of Trump’s ballrooms in one of his hotels to hold our Florida show in. I declined. I didn’t think it was appropriate and it didn’t feel right to me in the middle of a catastrophe.”
Dawn takes a deep breath, composing herself.
“I don’t have time for your games, Kamala. Unlike you, I’ve got real work to do. A show to produce. Wrestlers to manage. You know, actual responsibilities? So why don’t you toddle back to your cushy office and leave me alone?”
With a final glare, Dawn turns away from the camera, muttering under her breath.
MAIN EVENT-Donald Trump (American Patriots) vs. Joe Biden (Progressive Alliance)- Taped June 27th in Atlanta, Georgia The bell rang, echoing through the arena as Jake Tapper and Dana Bash of CNN raised their arms in unison. Johnny Suave’s voice cut through the roar of the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our main event! The 2024 showdown between Donald Trump and The Supreme Overlord of PCW Joe Biden!”
Trump strutted down the ramp in his signature navy suit and red tie, his golden hair gleaming under the spotlights. Across the ring, a hooded figure shuffled out, occasionally emitting crackling bolts of energy from beneath the dark robe.
“Oh my God, Johnny!” Colleen Crowder squealed. “This is going to be epic!”
Suave rolled his eyes. “Let’s see if he can actually find his opponent first, Colleen.”
As if on cue, Biden spun in a confused circle, his back to Trump. The referee gently turned him around, much to the crowd’s amusement.
Trump wasted no time, grabbing Biden in a snapmare and following up with a drop toe hold. The Supreme CEO of PCW hit the mat hard, but managed to fight back with a flurry of right hands and a clumsy shoulder tackle.
“Look at that fire from Biden!” Crowder gushed. “He’s not going down without a fight!”
Suave snorted. “I think that’s less ‘fire’ and more ‘flailing,’ Colleen.”
Trump sidestepped Biden’s charge, sending the robed figure careening into the corner. As Biden struggled to regain his bearings, Trump unleashed a series of vicious boots to his opponent’s midsection.
“The former PCW CEO is really taking it to Biden here,” Suave commented. “This could be over quick if-”
A stray bolt of energy suddenly shot from Biden’s eyes, incinerating a hot dog vendor in the front row.
“HOLY CRAP-” Suave’s exclamation was cut short by Crowder’s indignant squawk.
“That was clearly an accident! Biden’s just warming up!”
The match continued, a bizarre blend of traditional wrestling moves and unpredictable bursts of mystical energy. As Trump applied a straitjacket hold, Biden’s thoughts raced.
‘Come on, Joe,’ he told himself. ‘You’ve faced tougher opponents than this. Remember corn pop? He was a bad dude…’
With a surge of strength, Biden broke free, only to eat a wheelkick from Trump in the corner. The crowd went wild as the two political titans battled for supremacy in the most literal sense possible.
Trump’s relentless assault continued as he executed a step-up enziguri, followed by a running knee that left Biden reeling. The crowd held its breath as Trump went for the cover.
“One! Two!” Jake Tapper and Dana Bash counted in unison, but Biden managed to kick out at the last second.
Trump, undeterred, transitioned smoothly into an inside cradle, but again, Biden kicked out at two. Frustration etched across Trump’s face as he stood up, gesticulating wildly at the CNN referees.
“The count was fair and square!” Suave declared. “Trump can’t blame the media for this one!”
Crowder scoffed. “As if he’s ever needed a reason before.”
As Trump argued with the refs, Biden stumbled to his feet, his eyes glowing ominously. Another burst of energy shot forth, this time taking out a popcorn vendor and a merchandise salesman.
“Oh, come on!” Suave exclaimed. “At this rate, there won’t be any concessions left!”
In a move that shocked everyone, Trump suddenly produced a mirror from beneath the ring. As Biden turned, ready to unleash his eye beams, Trump held up the reflective surface. The energy bounced back, catching Biden’s robes on fire.
“That’s not legal!” Crowder shrieked. “Where’s the disqualification?”
As Biden flailed, his robes ablaze, Trump swiftly moved in. He extinguished the flames by rolling Biden up for a pinfall. The arena fell silent as Tapper and Bash’s hands hit the mat.
“One! Two! Three!”
The bell rang. Trump had won.
“I can’t believe it,” Crowder sputtered. “The CNN referees… they didn’t even try to help Biden!”
As the chaotic scene in the ring faded, the feed abruptly cut back to Dawn McGill’s office. The PCW owner, looking slightly frazzled but composed, addressed the camera directly.
“Well, folks, that was certainly… something,” Dawn said, running a hand through her blonde hair. “Next week, we’ve got the two number one contender’s matches for Extreme Election Night 2024. We will see you then.”
#politics#political wrestling#political satire#democrats#republicans#independents#conservative#liberal#political nation#moderate#donald trump#joe biden#trump 2024#election 2024#2024 election#liberty#libertarian#heartland#new york times#nbc news#abc news#cbs news#fox news#cnn news#msnbc#washington post#Youtube#kamala harris#jd vance#tim walz
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Regain Your Confidence: The Ultimate Guide to Non-Surgical Hair Replacement in 2024
Hair loss can affect anyone, causing stress and impacting self-esteem. But before considering surgery, explore the world of non-surgical hair replacement! Let’s dive into your options for achieving a fuller, more natural head of hair without going under the knife.
Non-surgical hair replacement offers a non-invasive solution for hair loss, catering to individuals seeking a natural-looking hair restoration without surgery. This method is favored for its minimal downtime, affordability, and ability to deliver instant results, making it an attractive option for those hesitant about surgical procedures or seeking immediate aesthetic improvements.
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Non-surgical hair replacement solutions encompass a range of techniques, such as hairpieces, wigs, extensions, and scalp micro-pigmentation. These options provide versatility, allowing individuals to customize their desired look while addressing various degrees of hair loss and pattern baldness.
From volumizing hair systems to innovative treatments like PRP and scalp micro pigmentation, Each solution caters to different needs, from concealing thinning areas to promoting new hair growth.
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While surgical hair replacement can be a viable option for many, individuals with certain medical conditions, unrealistic expectations, or limited donor hair may not be suitable candidates for the procedure. It’s essential for individuals considering surgical intervention to consult with qualified hair specialists to determine the most appropriate course of action.
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Seeking a trial run: Explore the impact of fuller hair before opting for surgery.
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In Florida, the cost of non-surgical hair replacement varies depending on factors such as the chosen method, the extent of hair loss, and the provider’s expertise. On average, individuals can expect to invest anywhere from a few hundred to several thousand dollars for non-surgical hair replacement solutions, with pricing structures tailored to meet diverse budgetary needs.
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HEART In Concert at Hard Rock Live at Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Hollywood, Fla April 25th, 2024
The Royal Flush 2024 Tour is the big winner tonight in Hollywood
I can't quite remember the first time I saw Heart live in concert. My recollection is that it was for their PASSIONWORKS tour in 1983. If I were able to ask a dearly departed friend (EM), I'm sure he would know the exact date, venue in South Florida, and probably what Ann and Nancy Wilson were wearing. Precise memory recall must be a wonderful thing. Over the years I have seen the ladies’ countless times including a meet-and-greet for their BAD ANIMALS tour in 1987. I do remember that vividly. They were both so gracious and lovely and Ann was sporting blue colored tinted hair. I have to say, I thought that was pretty cool. That experience and show is something I will never forget and am very grateful for. That being said, I am a seasoned veteran to Heart’s Rock and Roll extravaganzas. This evening at the Hard Rock Live at Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Hollywood, Fla, their Royal Flush 2024 tour kicks off an amazing run that will continue through December. Tonight was their 3rd stop.
Their performance this evening was all Heart all the time. Going back their first album release, DREAMBOAT ANNIE in 1976 to the present day (a new Heart song was in the mix, ROLL THE DICE), they represented the best of the best. Along with the band Tripsitter (Ann Wilson’s solo ensemble includes Sean T. Lane - drums and bike, Paul Moak - guitars, keyboards, backing vocals, Tony Lucido - bass, backing vocals, Ryan Wariner - lead and rhythm guitar), Nancy Wilson on guitar, is still a marvel to watch and a lesson to every player out there, women ROCK! Ann Wilson, the greatest female singer in rock history (yes, my opinion), still graces the stage with an incredible delivery and an untouchable vocal prowess. Not as mobile as in show’s past, having undergone knee replacement surgery, she sat center stage a good part of the show. No matter. She could be rolled out in a hospital bed and still hit all the high notes. And I would be there watching the show.
Of course, if you know me at all, my favorite moment in the set came with a two-song medley: ALONE (my favorite Heart song of all time) and WHAT ABOUT LOVE, which runs in my top ten. I have to admit however, I wish they had done both songs in their entirety. Heart’s STRAIGHT ON and David Bowie’s LET’S DANCE was another mash up that worked brilliantly, receiving quite an ovation from the audience. Of course, their many classics received the loudest hoots and hollers. NEVER, MAGIC MAN, THESE DREAMS, BARRACUDA (probably a good thing they didn’t title the song shark, or some other fish) and of course, the encore, CRAZY ON YOU. Their cover of Led Zepplin’s GOING TO CALIFORNIA, broke out the cell phone lights. While Ann Wilson’s and Tripsitter’s THIS IS NOW was graced with a reflective hush.
Heart’s ROYAL FLUSH 2024 TOUR is more than just a walk or dance down memory lane. Inductees to the Rock-and-Roll Hall of Fame, the honor is evident. Ann and Nancy haven’t missed a step or beat. Like fine wine that gets better with age, the women of Heart can still play and sing kick ass rock’n’roll.
SETLIST
Bebe Le Strange
Never
Love Alive
Roll The Dice
Magic Man
This Is Now
Little Queen
Straight On / Let's Dance
These Dreams
Dog & Butterfly
Dreamboat Annie
Going to California
4 Edward
Mistral Wind
Alone / What About Love
Barracuda
Encore:
Crazy On You
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bandit: "I play football at CFU"
I just watched the video that Charlie uploaded about the abnixious group of friends cutting a line at the EPCOT center, and it isn’t lost on me that not only is the most ANNOYING guy in the group a bandit, but he’s the only bandit in a group full of WM and women. He lied about being a football player at Central Florida University, then he said he wouldn’t let anyone ‘disrespect his girl’ , yet he pushed his girl in the face and told her to shut up despite her being just as annoying as he was being to the person recording them for cutting the line. They were so entitled, and so rude to the man and everyone else in line.
Central Florida University confirmed that he doesn’t and has never played football at their school. He lied again and said that people ‘beg’ to enter ‘his stadium’. Someone mentioned in Charlie’s video comments that they reek of peaking in high school. He said that he was 21 and then began bragging about being ‘rich’ and ‘making more money than anyone’s ever seen’. Then he apparently is 23 not 21, and he does have a criminal record. Clearly! This man is a loser, and he admit on his insytagra, live he said that ‘she’s his friend’ but on the video, he said that ‘she’s my girlfriend, we were coming to meet our girlfriends.’ Either way, he continues to tell on himself.
He’s a 23 year old loser bandit that is only friends with people of no color, which you already know makes his entitlement shoot through the roof. Not that it matters too much, but if a bandit just has other bandit friends he might be less likely to be as entitled but he recognizes that he can’t get away with the foolishness that Chad and Brad can because of his race. But bandit’s like him, especially him since he has a blonde streak in his hair like he’s 12, and maybe colored contacts, is acting just like he’s wh!te because all of his friends most likely are, when in reality, he’s probably just a 23 year old loser who never attended University for playing football, or for doing anything for that matter. So incredibly lame, and the fact that his ‘friends’ either didn’t realize or didn’t care about the amount of lies he told to the man recording him was astonishing. Why tell a person with a camera lies about yourself that people can easily fact check because- SOCIAL MEDIA EXISTS. Like if you DID play football for CFU, wouldn’t you NOT want to be seen on camera being a loser who’s acting entitled with your entitled friends? Then the friend/girlfriend/17 year old I don’t know who she is, she says the F slur like it’s 2006. All of these people made me realize how happy I actually am to not have any friends or to have a boyfriend in this modern era.
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Emerging Trends Reshaping Hair Extension Market: Forecast 2023-2028
The global hair extension market size was USD 2.35 billion in 2020 and is projected to grow from USD 2.38 billion in 2021 to USD 3.43 billion in 2028 at a CAGR of 5.3% in the 2021-2028 period.
A list of renowned hair extension manufacturers operating in the global market:
Great Lengths Universal Hair Extensions Srl (Roma, Lazio, Italy)
Balmain Hair Group B.V. (Netherlands)
Hair Visions International (Florida, USA)
Esqido (Toronto, Canada)
CAP. Original USA (Florida, USA)
Cinderella Hair (London, UK)
Racooninternational (United Kingdom)
Evergreen Products Group Limited (Hong Kong)
Easihair Pro USA (United States)
Hairlocs (California, USA)
Segments-
Synthetic Segment Held 43.92% Share in 2020: Fortune Business Insights™
By type, the market is trifurcated into animal, human, and synthetic. Out of these, the synthetic segment generated 43.92% in terms of the hair extension market share in 2020. This growth is attributable to its ability to resist rainy and humid weather.
Report Coverage-
The research report aims to analyze the market by considering contributions, prospects, and growth trends. It presents detailed profiles of every key player operating in the market to assess their core competencies in each segment. Besides, it would help our clients better understand the competitive developments, such as mergers & acquisitions, new product launches, joint ventures, and collaborations.
Drivers & Restraints-
Increasing Cases of Alopecia Areata to Augment Growth
Most of the people nowadays are using hair extensions to hide their hair damage issues. The surging prevalence of casts, alopecia, and hair loss is expected to drive the hair extension market growth in the near future. The National Alopecia Areata Foundation, for instance, mentioned that as of 2020, approximately 6.8 million people in the U.S. are suffering from alopecia areata. At the same time, the increasing usage of chemical-based shampoos would aid growth. However, these products can often cause hair breakage and headache. It may hamper their demand.
Regional Insights-
Rising Number of Beauty Salons in the U.S. & Canada to Help North America Grow
Geographically, North America stood at USD 0.83 billion in terms of revenue in 2020. This growth is attributable to the presence of numerous beauty salons in Canada and the U.S. According to the Small Business Development Center Organization, as of May 2020, in the U.S., there are 77,000 beauty salons and 4,500 barbershops. Asia Pacific, on the other hand, is set to remain at the forefront on account of the rising working women population in the region. This would further accelerate them to spend more on grooming products, including hair extensions.
Competitive Landscape-
Key Players Focus on Acquisition Strategy to Strengthen Their Positions in Market
The global market contains a large number of companies that are presently striving to strengthen their positions globally. Hence, they are engaging in the merger and acquisition strategy with local salons and novel hair product manufacturers.
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WWE Backlash 2023
WWE Backlash 2023
WWE Backlash 2023 is an annual professional wrestling pay-per-view event produced by WWE, which has been held since 1999. The event is typically held in May and features matches between WWE superstars from Raw, SmackDown, and NXT.
WWE Backlash has been known to feature some of the most intense and memorable matches in WWE history. From high-flying ladder matches to brutal No Holds Barred contests, the event has consistently delivered exciting and entertaining wrestling action.
One of the most memorable moments in WWE Backlash history came in 2004, when Chris Benoit won the World Heavyweight Championship in a Triple Threat match against Triple H and Shawn Michaels. Benoit's victory was a moment of triumph for the Canadian wrestler and a highlight of his career.
In 2016, WWE Backlash was revived as a SmackDown exclusive event, and it has since become an important part of the WWE calendar. The event has featured matches such as the Last Man Standing match between AJ Styles and Shinsuke Nakamura in 2018 and the brutal Edge vs. Randy Orton match, dubbed as "The Greatest Wrestling Match Ever" in 2020. Bianca Belair made her debut on the NXT brand in 2016 and quickly became known for her incredible athleticism and strength. She is known for her signature hair whip, which she uses to take down her opponents in the ring. Bianca Belair is a rising star in WWE and a trailblazer for women in professional wrestling. Her incredible athleticism, magnetic personality, and inspiring story have made her a fan favorite and a role model for young girls and women around the world.
In 2021, Bad Bunny made his professional wrestling debut as part of WWE's WrestleMania 37 event, where he teamed up with Damian Priest to take on The Miz and John Morrison in a tag team match. His performance was widely praised by fans and critics, and he has since made several more appearances on WWE programming.
Overall, Bad Bunny is a multi-talented artist who has made a significant impact on the worlds of music, fashion, and entertainment. His unique style and socially conscious lyrics have helped him become one of the most popular and influential artists of his generation, and he shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon.
Seth Rollins is a professional wrestler currently signed to WWE, where he has been one of the company's top stars for several years. Born Colby Daniel Lopez in 1986, Rollins grew up in Iowa and began his wrestling career on the independent circuit under the name Tyler Black.
Seth Rolins gained national attention in 2010 as a member of the independent wrestling promotion Ring of Honor, where he became the ROH World Champion. In 2011, he signed with WWE and was assigned to its developmental territory, Florida Championship Wrestling (FCW).
The 2021 edition of WWE Backlash is set to take place on May 16 at the WWE ThunderDome in the Yuengling Center in Tampa, Florida. The event will feature matches such as the WWE Championship match between Bobby Lashley and Drew McIntyre and the SmackDown Women's Championship match between Bianca Belair and Bayley.
WWE Backlash 2021 is expected to be a thrilling event, with some of WWE's top superstars putting their titles on the line. With the event taking place in the state-of-the-art WWE ThunderDome, fans can expect a high-quality production, complete with pyrotechnics, special effects, and some of the best wrestling action around.
In conclusion, WWE Backlash is an exciting event that has been an important part of WWE's history for over two decades. With some of the most thrilling matches and moments in WWE history taking place at the event, WWE fans can always expect an action-packed and entertaining show. The 2021 edition of WWE Backlash is set to be no exception, with some of WWE's top superstars set to compete in high-stakes matches.
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The success of an Omsk businessman in Miami
We decided to find out what one of the industry's most respected experts is like in a beauty salon. We have already told you about the beauty industry expert Simon Doiban and his communication models for the salon business. A few months after the article was published, Simon implemented his American business plan and opened his beauty center in Miami. Let's head to Florida.
Simon, your journey in the beauty industry began with...
...by learning about the market, its potential, and its characteristics. I was living in Omsk, developing a completely different business unrelated to beauty. Chatting in business circles, I turned my attention to the beauty sector and intuitively felt the prospects for the salon business. I began to study the market, trends, and experience of the current players to follow the innovative technologies and products of the industry. I formed my vision of what a beauty salon should be like so that women would want to return to it for different services. In 2012, I opened my first salon in Omsk. A few years later, I launched a consulting project, "Beauty Consulting Academy," which became my point of growth.
How was the idea of your salon born in America?
America is not called the land of great opportunities for nothing. The beauty salon markets in Russia, Ukraine, and Israel were studied by me up and down. Business owners in these countries often consult me. At my business sessions, I tell them how to build a salon business in their region, what to pay attention to, where to weaken, and where to push. I have a lot of clients in the States, too. But the American beauty market is much more active and promising. Here I realized the maximum, which I talked about at the training and consultations. So I came to Miami and consolidated all my knowledge to open my first beauty salon, Solea Medical Spa & Beauty Lounge.
How is your salon different from many others?
We've already said that Miami beauty salons rarely offer their customers a comprehensive approach: either you inject or dye the hair. The first salon of the chain Solea offers women a full range of first-class cosmetological and medical procedures for health improvement, rejuvenation, and self-care. Here you can solve several important beauty problems at once: manicure and pedicure, depilation, haircuts, hair and scalp coloring, and care, ultra-modern face, and body care - laser and injection procedures, cell therapy, massages, wraps, relaxation therapy, floating and much more. And this is a fundamental difference and our competitive advantage. In addition, we value our image as professionals. We employ only certified specialists and professionals. Our offices are equipped with the most high-tech equipment. We value each of our clients and do everything to make our clients feel comfortable. I hold training for managers of big salons around the world, and of course, every employee of my salon knows how to communicate with the client and build excellent communication with him.
You keep emphasizing that this is your first salon in America, and you have now named Solea the network. Do you plan to open more beauty salons?
Yes, Solea is the Simone Doiban chain of beauty salons. We're expanding; very soon, we'll cut the red ribbon and open the doors of another one of our salons. It will also be in Miami. And the concept will be an extension of the Medical Spa & Beauty Lounge. But that's not all - I'm working on a concept for a third salon, which will create a real revolution in the salon industry. But the details are kept secret for now. Now that's intriguing! Simon, thank you for the interesting conversation. Congratulations on your successful start in America and on successfully realizing all your plans. And we are waiting for news about Simon Doiban's revolutionary project.
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