#bali 2016

[the5sosarchive]

5SOS on a friend's snapchat story — Jan. 3rd, 2016

[boricuacherry-blog]

The man with the cross on his arm has been identified and is not related to Mekayla's disappearance.

16 year-old Mekayla Bali has been missing since April 12th, 2016. According to her mother, Paula Bali, that day began as any typical day would for Mekayla. The two chatted as they got ready for the day, before Mekayla’s maternal grandmother picked them up to drive Paula to work and Mekayla to school. Paula was dropped off first, and then Mekayla was dropped off at her high school in Yorkton, Saskatchewan, Canada around 8:20am. When her grandmother went back to the school to pick her up that afternoon, Mekayla wasn’t waiting for her. Her grandmother then went inside to see if Mekayla was there, but teachers and peers said they had not seen her for most of the day. Her grandmother then drove to Paula’s office to let her know that Mekayla was missing from school. Paula checked to see if Mekayla had gone to her after school music lessons early, but she was not there, either. A few hours after that, Mekayla was reported missing to Yorkton authorities.

Mekayla’s family later learned that she walked off her school’s campus just 10 minutes after being dropped off that morning and was seen at several different locations in the hours that followed. Mekayla’s first known stop was a local pawn shop. However, Paula does not believe that Mekayla pawned anything; as nothing valuable was missing from their home. After leaving the pawn shop, surveillance footage captured Mekayla at a T.D. Bank, where she withdrew a small amount of money. Mekayla’s next known stop was at a nearby Tim Horton’s, where surveillance footage captured her entering the cafe around 9am and buying a coffee. Mekayla’s family and friends do not know why she went to any of those locations that morning. In an interview with Dateline, Paula told reporters, “this is absolutely unusual behavior for her. She wasn’t a class skipper. It seemed like she was waiting for someone.” Despite this,  surveillance footage revealed that Mekayla did not meet anyone at Tim Horton’s. She was captured looking around the parking lot before returning to school grounds.

Mekayla’s return to school was very brief. Sometime during the short period of time she was there, she sent a text message to two of her friends that said “I need help.” Just moments later, though, that message was followed by another one that said “Don’t worry, I figured it out.” Her friends shrugged it off and expected to catch up with Mekayla at lunch that afternoon, but surveillance footage revealed that Mekayla had left the school again before lunchtime. Mekayla then walked almost a mile to Trail Stop Restaurant, which was connected to a bus station. There were no cameras inside the restaurant or bus station, but witnesses state that Mekayla arrived at the restaurant around 12pm, ate lunch there, and then left around 1:45pm. She has never been seen or heard from again after that.

Police are actively investigating Mekayla’s case. No suspects have been publicly named, however police are hoping to identify a male person of interest. That man was seen at the Trail Stop Restaurant at the same time as Mekayla and has a large tattoo of a cross on his forearm. No additional details on this man’s identity have been revealed. If you have any information about this person’s identity or about Mekayla’s whereabouts, please contact the Royal Canadian Mounted Police tip line at (639) 625-4100.

[monzabee]

run for the hills – lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where fate decides to bring you back into Lewis’ life, making him question his belief in fate.  

Pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

Word Count: 9.3k 

Warnings: cursing, crying, drinking and mentions of alcohol, mentions of brocedes (rip), kissing, unprotected sex (you shouldn’t be surprised at this point), oral (m receiving), hand kink, praise kink, minors dni!!

Request: “hey, Merry Christmas 🫶🏽 I was hoping I could request a Lewis smut fic where the reader is Nico Rosberg's sister (with a age gap of around 6-8 years with him and Lewis) and before 2016 they were just really close friends who just kissed once but chose to pretend it didn't happen. after years, they run into each other at a club or a party and they're pretty snappy at each other but there's a lot of tension too and they end up having sex where Lewis is really cocky and also the reader has a hand kink and praise kink? I'm so sorry if I made it too long, i love your writing <33” + “oooo please could i request something w lewis?! something gut wrenchingly angsty? sorry i don’t really have a plot in mind hhhh thank you heheh”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! HAPPY NEW YEAR, i started this fic last week and i honestly didn't think I'd finish it this quickly but here we are. don't let my words fool you, i got the request last christmas but if you know me then you know that i am not quick when it comes to working on requests (i'm working on this i promise), not that this fic is even remotely christmassy, but let’s just appreciate that it is supposed to be set during the holiday period lol. this was supposed to be a shorter one but here we are, lol, i'm not even surprised at my inability to keep things short at this point. i posted this fic and realised i forgot to copy and paste a big chunk of it so oh well. as always, feedback is appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Lewis decided he doesn’t like cold a long time ago. That’s why, being the ever-decisive person he is, he chooses to spend his winter vacationing in places like the Maldives or Bali. His decisiveness is an important part of him, given what he does for a living. When he is on the track, in his car, there is no room for hesitation – he needs to be able to make split-second decisions under intense pressure, what’s not to love about that? So, once he decided he’d rather spend his time off basking in the sun rather than freezing to death somewhere else, he never looked back. He enjoys spending his time off in someplace tropical with his family, or without his family; most of the times away from the prying eyes and camera lenses of the media. 

But this time, it’s different – he's alone. 

Or rather, he thought he would be alone. The villa he rented out for the duration of the month is isolated, just how he likes it. He wakes up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore right outside his windows, and the distant chirping of tropical birds to accompany him as he lounges on the large deck, overlooking the infinite expanse of blue. There are no spectators around to gauge his reaction, try to get him to speak out about his plans for the next year when he moves to Ferrari, or what he’s going to do when he eventually retires one day. He hasn’t seen anyone from the racing world for weeks, and it’s been a much-needed break. He’d usually love to spend Christmas with his family, the only time he would ever tolerate the cold being when he is with his family, but this year he just wanted to get away on his own. 

There is no one around that expect anything from him. Just peace. 

He’s not a hermit, of course, but he enjoys spending his time by himself mostly isolated from all the other guests of the touristic area he’s staying in. The chef that works at the villa is on call for when Lewis decides that he wants to stay in for the night, the housekeeping staff come every morning to clean up around the house, then promptly leave, providing Lewis with the privacy he so desperately needs. But other than that, and a few nights spent outside in a restaurant or a club? He is all alone, and he is not complaining about it. Another thing about Lewis Hamilton is that he doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in setting and achieving goals; after all, that’s what he’s done all his life. His success isn’t some cosmic coincidence. It’s years of sacrifice by his parents, relentless effort, and unwavering determination. So, when things happen that feel serendipitous, like running into someone from his past, he doesn’t chalk it up to destiny. He chalks it up to the sheer unpredictability of life. 

And yet, as he steps out of the villa to head to a nearby beach club after dinner, he doesn’t expect to run into you, especially not after how the things ended last time, but there you are. His eyes find you at the bar with some guy next to you – he has to do a double take. Just to make sure, he tells himself. But no matter how many times his attention reverts to you, he knows it’s you. Of course, it’s you. Though he’s not a believer in fate or destiny, or whatever you might want to call it, there you are – dressed in a flowy linen dress. His first instinct is to ask the server to seat him somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have stare at you and your ‘date’ for the night. His grip on the glass in his hand tightens momentarily, and he exhales slowly, forcing himself to look away. This is not the moment, he tells himself. It’s not his business, not anymore. But still, his gaze drifts back to you. You’re laughing at something the guy says, your head tilted slightly as you sip from your drink. He can’t hear your laughter, no – but what a sound that would be to hear, he thinks for a moment. 

He knows he shouldn’t care who you’re with or what you’re doing; it’s been years since the two of you shared anything beyond... well anything, really. But something about seeing you here, in this place he thought was his private retreat from the world, feels like a twist of fate – or the kind of cosmic joke he claims not to believe in. But his eyes watch you as you throw you head back in a laugh and he can practically hear the sound in his head, his mind taking him to years ago when he used to be one of the people who got to hear it first hand; when he joined your family on karting days, or when you celebrated with him when he won a race, or even back to that one time when him and Nico were trying to drive those unicycles and you kept doubling over in laughter when they fell down – something your brother did not appreciate, but Lewis couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face as he watched you from the ground.  

Somethings never change, he thinks, as he notices the smallest of smiles that has crept its way onto his face, quickly disappearing the moment he catches himself. He knows it shouldn’t matter to him – let alone bother him. But old habits die hard, and the sight of your smile, that easy laugh, stirs something in him that feels like both longing and a pang of annoyance. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin. Back then, it was teasing remarks that somehow felt more genuine than any praise he received elsewhere. He catches himself glancing your way again, his jaw tightening when the guy beside you leans in a little too close. It’s irrational, this surge of jealousy that claws at his chest. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but that doesn’t stop it from burning through him. He looks down at his drink, willing himself to focus on anything but you. But memories have a way of sneaking up on him, unbidden. The days spent at karting tracks, the shared dinners with your family, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Back then, it was easy. Natural. Like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, until you didn’t. 

Just then, you glance over, your eyes scanning the room before they land on him. For a moment, everything stills. The laughter fades from your face, replaced by something unreadable. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. His breath catches in his throat, and he curses himself for the way his chest tightens under your gaze. He watches as you excuse yourself, heading towards the restrooms, and he swears he has never gotten up so fast and walked so fast in his life. He doesn’t think, he just moves until he spots you in the hallway, queued behind some people waiting for the bathroom line. What kind of a club only has one bathroom? He thinks, but that’s not the point. 

He clears his throat. 

You turn, eyes widening in that familiar, guarded way. “Lewis.” Your lips open in shock as you glance behind him and then focus on him again, “Did- did you follow me here?”  

“Were you on a date with that guy?” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself, his voice colder than he expects. 

You blink, taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?” 

He stands there, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the irritation from creeping up his spine. His gaze flickers to the bar behind him, where the guy you were with is still talking to the bartender, oblivious to what’s going on. “I asked if you were on a date,” he repeats, a little sharper this time as he emphasises the last word. 

You raise an eyebrow, the surprise on your face melting into something more guarded, a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “What if I was?” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m just out enjoying my night. Ever think of that?” 

He feels a rush of heat in his chest. “It’s not like I care,” he mutters, though it’s clear from the edge in his voice that he does. “Just curious.” 

You scoff, your lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Sure, Lewis.” 

“So?” He inquires, “Are you? On a date with that guy, I mean.” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “Are you serious right now?” you snap, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’re standing here, in the middle of a hallway, asking me about my love life? What is this, high school?” 

Lewis feels the heat rise in his neck, irritation mixing with a sense of frustration he doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not asking for your life story, just... just an answer. Is it that hard?” His voice is tight, but he doesn’t back down. 

You scoff again, your lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “You really think you can just waltz back in and start demanding answers like we’re still... You know what? Yes, Lewis, I’m on a date.” You throw a glance over your shoulder at the guy still sitting at the bar. “We met on the beach at the hotel I’m staying at, and I thought I’d let him treat me to a dinner and a couple of drinks before I’d let him fuck me six ways to Sunday.” You roll your eyes at someone on the queue gasping at your choice of words. “Not that it’s any of your business. Are you happy now?” 

Lewis’s hand grips your wrist, a little too tight, and without warning, he’s tugging you away from the bar, his jaw clenched. “Come on,” he mutters, his tone low and urgent, as he steers you towards the back exit. You’re caught off guard, stumbling to keep up with his forceful pace, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“What the hell, Lewis? Let go of me!” you snap, yanking your arm free once you're outside in the chill night air. The chill hits you like a slap, the heat of the club’s atmosphere fading behind you as the door slams shut. 

“Seriously?” he spits, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You’re gonna play it like that?” 

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what game you're playing at, but I’m not interested. What the hell was that back there? Dragging me out like I’m some kind of... of property?” 

He glares at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re unbelievable.” His voice rises, sharp and cutting. “I ask you a simple question, and you throw that crap at me? What the hell did you think I was supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend like I didn’t care?” 

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pretend like you don’t care? That’s rich coming from you. You don’t get to just waltz in, after all this time, and act like you can demand answers, Lewis. Like you have any right to know what’s going on in my life.” 

“Your brother would be so disappointed in you right now.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the air between you two freezes. The breeze picks up, but the sudden silence makes the world feel too loud.  

“You don’t get to talk about my brother,” you seethe, as Lewis's face hardens, his jaw tensing, but it’s the look in his eyes that hits hardest — it’s a mixture of hurt and fury, both so raw, you almost feel sorry for what you’ve just unleashed. 

“What did you just say?” His voice is low, almost dangerously so, the words slipping through clenched teeth. 

You swallow, but it doesn’t help the sharp edge in your voice. “You heard me. You don’t get to talk about him, you don’t get to fuck up my life and you don’t get to come back here acting like you still have any claim on me or my life.” You’re breathing heavily now, the anger and hurt mixing into a bitter cocktail that you can’t quite swallow – funnily enough, Lewis can smell the cocktail you had earlier. “You left. You made your choice, Lewis. And now you don’t get to barge back in and pretend like I owe you anything.” 

Lewis stands in front of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight as he processes your words. He doesn’t know when the two of you got closer together, he can practically feel the anger radiating off you, “You think I don’t know that?” he spits, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t know what I did?” His voice cracks slightly, the vulnerability slipping out before he can stop it. “I fucked up, alright? I fucked up more than you’ll ever understand. We all did – me, Nico, you.” 

“You don’t get to make me feel guilty about this, Lewis. You don’t get to act like I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Your voice shakes, but you keep going, the words coming faster, more bitter. “You kissed me and called it an ‘accident’, a fluke. You fought with Nico every chance you got. I had to pick up the pieces on my own.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, but his anger doesn’t dissipate—if anything, it only sharpens. His hands remain balled into fists at his sides, but there’s something else behind his eyes now, something raw, something almost desperate. “We wouldn’t have worked out,” he mutters, it’s something that he said to himself time and time again to convince himself of it, “I am– was your brother’s friend, you–” 

“You were my friend, too!” You exclaim, your hands swatting at his arms, chest – anywhere you can reach. “You left me, as if I meant nothing to you! You stole my first kiss and shattered my life to pieces on the same day!” You manage to get in some good hits despite Lewis’ attempts to calm you down, and the lump in your throat makes it harder for you to continue talking, “Do you know how many times I wondered if you kissed me just to piss Nico off? Do you know how that feels?” 

“What?” He asks, his voice low. Each hit, each accusation, it stings. But nothing hits harder than the raw emotion in your eyes – hurt, betrayal, and the weight of everything he left behind. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. “You think I kissed you to get at Nico?” he says finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. There’s an edge of disbelief, of hurt, as if the idea itself cuts deeper than your accusations. “Do you really think so little of me?” 

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, holding yourself together in the face of his raw honesty. “I don’t know what to think, Lewis. What was I supposed to think back then? You shut me out. You made me feel like it never happened – like I never happened.” 

“You were twenty-three years old,” he points out, “our age difference–” 

“Oh please,” you scoff, pushing at his chest one last time, “you’ve fucked girls younger than that.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, as if they’ve struck a nerve he didn’t even know was exposed. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t get to throw that in my face,” he finally says, his voice low and clipped, tinged with a kind of frustration that feels different from before. 

“Why?” You ask, head cocked to the side. “I can’t comment on you fucking other people, but you can question my actions because I want to fuck–” 

“Say ‘fuck’ one more time and I swear I’ll–” 

“—what, Lewis?” you snap, cutting him off before he can finish his threat. “You’ll what? Walk away again? Pretend this conversation never happened, just like you did last time?” 

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tightening as he tries to rein in his emotions. “Don’t push me,” he warns, his voice low and taut, but there’s no real menace in it—only desperation. 

“Oh, I’m pushing?” You laugh bitterly, throwing your hands up. “I’m the one pushing? You’re the one who showed up here, dredging up every memory I’ve spent years trying to bury. Don’t you dare put this on me, Lewis.” 

“You think this is easy for me?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You think I don’t hate myself for what I did? For what I didn’t do? I’ve lived with this every single day, and you—” 

“Fuck you!” you shout, stepping closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck–” 

His hands shoot up, grabbing your wrists – not harshly, but firmly enough to stop your movements. You don’t even fully register how quickly he pushes you against the wall, “You think I ran off and lived some perfect life?” he hisses, his face inches from yours as he inhales deeply. “You think I didn’t miss you every goddamn day? You think I didn’t lie awake at night, wishing I’d had the guts to ask you to stay?” 

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the rawness in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. For a moment, the anger in his eyes softens, replaced by something else – something that feels far too close to the hope you’ve been trying to suppress. “Well... yeah.” You inwardly cringe how your voice sounds so weak, but Lewis tilts your chin back to make you look at him.  

“Is that so?” He mumbles, thumb caressing your chin as his eyes hungrily take in how your chest moves with each deep breath your inhale and exhale.  

Your breath hitches as his thumb lingers, his gaze dropping to your lips like he’s fighting every instinct to close the distance between you. “Lewis...” you start, but his name comes out softer than you intend, more of a plea than the warning you meant it to be. 

“What?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a softness to it, an undercurrent of vulnerability that sends your heart racing. “What do you want me to do, huh? Walk away again? Because I can’t. Not this time.” 

You shake your head slightly, but his grip on your chin keeps you from fully looking away. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I don’t even know how to feel about you anymore.” 

His eyes darken, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in, his forehead almost brushing yours. “Then let me remind you,” he says, his voice a low rasp. 

Your pulse quickens, every nerve in your body screaming at you to push him away – or pull him closer and he tension between you is suffocating. “Don’t,” you whisper, but your voice wavers, betraying the battle waging inside you. 

“Don’t what?” he asks, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Don’t do this?” You don’t answer, your throat too tight, your mind too clouded with memories, anger, and something else you’re not ready to name. He waits, his breath mingling with yours, his patience stretching thin. “Say the word,” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will let you go back and take him back to your room and do whatever you want.” 

But you don’t say it. You can’t. Because as much as you hate him, as much as you want to scream at him, cry, and push him away... you also want this. Want him. 

And Lewis knows it. 

His hand releases your wrist, sliding down to your waist as his other hand stays on your chin, tilting your face toward him. The kiss that follows isn’t soft, isn’t sweet – it’s desperate, raw, and filled with years of unspoken words. It’s anger and longing, heartbreak, and desire, all crashing together in a way that steals your breath and sends your heart into overdrive. A softer kiss might have been what you wanted, but Lewis knows this is what you need. His body presses against yours, and your hands instinctively find his shoulders, clinging to him as if letting go would leave you falling apart. His lips are warm and insistent, the taste of him intoxicating. Every move, every touch, feels like he’s trying to make up for everything he never said, everything he left behind. 

The kiss deepens, each second unravelling more of the carefully constructed armour you’ve built around your heart. His fingers grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as everything else feels like it’s spinning. You can feel the heat radiating off him with every press of his body against yours. Your mind screams at you to stop, to think, to pull away before you lose yourself completely – but your body betrays you. The years of hurt, anger, and confusion dissolve into the fire burning between you, ignited by a kiss that’s as much a battle as it is a surrender. 

Lewis pulls back just enough to let you breathe, his lips still hovering close, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is hot against your skin, his voice low and rough when he finally speaks. “You still want to go back and fuck your little lover boy?”  

“Who?” You mumble, breathless as a result of the kiss as your eyes become heavy with something you can’t quite describe. 

Lewis smirks, a glint of triumph flashing in his dark eyes. "Exactly," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your waist in slow, deliberate circles. His confidence is maddening, but the heat between you makes it impossible to summon the indignation you’d usually feel. 

You try to muster a response, something sharp and cutting to put him back in his place, but the way his gaze drops to your lips again makes the words dissolve before they even form. “Don’t do that,” you manage, though your voice lacks the conviction you intended. 

“Do what?” he asks innocently, though the rasp in his tone betrays his intent. 

“Act like this changes everything.” 

His smirk falters, replaced by a seriousness that roots you in place. “It doesn’t change everything,” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But it changes something. Doesn’t it?” 

Your heart pounds against your ribs as his words sink in. You hate how easily he disarms you, how effortlessly he pulls you back into his orbit no matter how much you’ve tried to escape it. But deep down, you know he’s right. “I hate you,” you whisper, though even you can hear the weakness in your words. 

“I know,” he replies, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. “And I hate myself for making you feel that way.” 

The sincerity in his voice cuts through the haze, making your chest tighten. But before you can think about it, you find yourself tugging on the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him closer to yourself as you mumble, “Kiss me again.” 

Your hands, which moments ago were pushing him away, now find their way into his hair, pulling him closer, as if to anchor yourself in the storm he’s unleashed within you. Lewis doesn’t hold back. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him, the wall at your back the only thing keeping you steady. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that borders on desperation, as though he’s afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. When the need for air becomes undeniable, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you are breathing heavily, the space between you charged with everything unsaid. “Tell me you didn’t feel that,” he says, his voice hoarse, his thumb brushing against your cheek. 

You can’t answer right away, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest it drowns out any coherent thought. But eventually, you manage to find your voice. “I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no conviction behind the words. They sound hollow, even to your own ears. 

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “No, you don’t.” 

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, but the edge in your voice falters. 

“I’m not,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. “I’m telling you what I see. And I see you... still here. Still looking at me like that.” His hand trails down to your hip, his touch light but grounding. “If you hated me, you would’ve walked away by now.” 

You close your eyes, willing yourself to regain some semblance of control, but it’s impossible with him standing this close, his presence overwhelming. “This doesn’t change anything,” you say, though it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself than him. 

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice softer now. “But it’s a start.” You don’t say anything to agree or refute his statement, and after a brief pause, he straightens, fixies your dress and tries to fix your hair as well. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll take you back.” 

“But, my bag,” you mutter, pushing out your lower lip in a pout when you realise your bag is on the floor. Lewis has to restrain himself when he sees your lips all puffed up because of him. Your voice is whiny, and he realises you’re slurring your words a little bit when you tug on his shirt, “I don’t wanna leave my bag here.” 

Lewis looks at you for a moment, his expression softening as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin with the same tenderness he’s shown all night despite all your fighting. With a soft exhale, Lewis bends down to pick up your bag, holding it out to you with the same quiet care. “Don’t make that face,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but laced with something tender. “You really wanna go back to that room, after everything that just happened?” 

You look at him, a mix of confusion and desire swirling inside you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the honesty slipping out before you can stop it. The words feel raw, vulnerable, but there’s something about his presence, the way he’s here, still so close, that makes you feel safe enough to say it. 

Lewis doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, his eyes soften, his thumb grazing the strap of your bag as he watches you closely, as though he’s searching for something in your expression. Finally, he steps closer again, the space between you narrowing once more. “I get it,” he says quietly. “But I’m not letting you go home alone tonight.” 

The words send a shiver down your spine. You want to protest, to push him away, but there’s something in his gaze, the way he’s looking at you now, that makes you second-guess everything you thought you wanted. You hesitate for a moment longer, the weight of your thoughts heavy in the air, but the pull between you is undeniable. It’s the kind of pull that’s magnetic, that doesn’t let you escape even when you try to resist. 

Finally, you nod, the decision feeling both like a surrender and a choice you can’t take back. “Okay,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “Take me back, then.” 

You don’t even remember getting into his car, but you do remember the smug look he shot at your date – Carl, you think – when he helped you through the club with a firm hand on your back. The villa Lewis rented for his little getaway is entirely what you expect it to be – modern, grand, and secluded enough so no one uninvited would know he is there and bother him. The couch in the living room looks way too inviting and you make a mental note to avoid it for now. Sitting on it might make this whole situation feel too real, too comfortable, and you’re not ready for that. You glance around the space instead, taking in the clean lines of the modern furniture, the polished wood floors, and the sprawling windows that offer an unobstructed view of the moonlit ocean. You walk towards the windows, eyes taking in the view from inside the villa. The ocean stretches out endlessly before you, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faintly audible even through the glass, a gentle hum that seems to echo the turmoil in your chest. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, partly to steady your nerves and partly to shield yourself from the vulnerability creeping up on you. The view is breathtaking, but it does little to quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You faintly hear Lewis calling out your name, but as if you are in a trance, you can’t take your eyes off the view in front of you. His voice calls out to you again, softer this time, closer. “Hey,” he says, and you feel the warmth of his presence before you even see him. Lewis’s reflection appears in the glass, his dark eyes fixed on you as he stands just behind you. 

You finally tear your gaze away from the ocean and turn to face him, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment. 

Lewis nods, his expression unreadable as he follows your gaze back to the window. “It is,” he agrees, but there’s a weight to his tone, as if he’s not just talking about the view. His eyes flicker back to you, searching your face. “But it doesn’t seem like it’s helping much.” 

You let out a shaky laugh, more to fill the silence than anything else. “It’s not that simple, Lewis.” 

“Nothing ever is,” he replies, stepping closer until there’s only a breath of space between you. “But I’m here. You don’t have to deal with whatever this is alone.” 

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into it. “I don’t know what to do with you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “With... us.” 

He exhales deeply, his hand lifting as though he wants to touch you but hesitates. “You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he says, his voice steady. “I just want to make sure you’re okay tonight. That’s all that matters to me.” 

Something about his words, his presence, eases the knot in your chest, if only slightly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you murmur, more to yourself than him. 

“Then don’t,” he says simply, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. “Just be here. With me.” 

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of pretense or ulterior motives, but all you see is the same man who’s managed to undo you with a single glance. “Show me your room.”  

“We don’t have to do that.” His eyebrows furrow as he reaches for your cheek, “That not why I brought you here.” 

“Isn’t it?” You try to joke, but his deep sigh is a sign of his disapproval. “I know that’s not why you brought me here, but it can be one of the reasons you brought me here.” 

“Can it?” He drawls, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“For God’s sake, Lewis.” You sigh, turning your body towards the man standing next to you. “Do I need to beg you for you to fuck me?”  

Lewis’s smirk falters, his expression shifting into something deeper, darker, but undeniably tender. “Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with restraint as he steps closer. His hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You don’t need to beg me for anything. Not now, not ever.” 

The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric. “Then fuck me,” you whisper, your voice trembling with equal parts frustration and desire. “If you want me, show me.” 

He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s steadying himself, and when he opens them again, the resolve in his expression takes your breath away. “You think I don’t want you?” he asks, his tone low but firm. “You don’t know how hard it is to hold back, to stop myself from–” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as if even admitting it is too much. He reaches for one of your hands, freeing from your hold and places it on his crotch. “See what you do to me?” 

The crude act manages to steal a gasp from you, your eyes widening at how hard he already is. “Lewis,” you mutter, he responds with an affirmative hum, “show me your bedroom.” 

He takes your hand, his grip firm but careful, and leads you down a sleek hallway. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished wood floor echoes softly, a counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. When he pushes open the door to his bedroom, you’re momentarily distracted by how much the space reflects him. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft, ethereal light. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft light.  

You walk towards the centre of the room, the corner of your lip trapped between your teeth as you glance at Lewis over your shoulder before you run towards the bed and throw yourself onto the soft bedding. Lewis watches you with an amused smirk as you sprawl across the bed, your carefree motion starkly contrasting the simmering tension in the air. “Comfortable, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrays his calm façade. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, giving him a challenging look. “Very.” Then you narrow your eyes at him, “But don’t call me baby, I am not your baby.” 

He chuckles, low and throaty, as he steps closer, loosening the top button of his shirt with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down your spine. “No?” he muses, stopping at the edge of the bed. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if committing you to memory. 

Your breath hitches when he leans over, placing a hand on either side of your body, effectively caging you in. His face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I like seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Relaxed, it suits you.” 

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, but you refuse to let him have the upper hand completely. Your fingers trail up his chest, over the defined planes of his torso, and then slide beneath the open collar of his shirt. “I could say the same about you,” you reply, your voice soft but loaded with meaning. 

His response is immediate. His lips crash against yours with a fervour that steals your breath, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you flush against him. The kiss is raw and consuming, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into the connection. When he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged, he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. 

You smile, your hands slipping down to the waistband of his pants. “Why don’t you show me?” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one smooth motion, he lifts you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carries you to the centre of the bed. He chuckles at the sound of your giggling, as he carefully lays you back down on the soft bed. His fingers work diligently to get you out of your dress, pulling the linen garment over your head as Lewis lets his eyes hungrily take you in. When your dress finally falls away, leaving you in nothing but lace and skin, Lewis takes a slow breath, his eyes scanning over your body with a mixture of awe and hunger. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, his touch sending shivers of desire through your body. 

You arch slightly into his touch, your breath coming faster, and you meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “Are you going to just gawk at me, or are you going to actually do something?” 

He smirks, a flash of cockiness in his eyes. “Patience,” he teases, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice as he lowers himself over you. With one hand bracing himself above you, his other hand slides down between your bodies, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is slow, almost teasing, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers inch closer to where you need him most. “You like this?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his lips just inches from yours. His fingers find the lace of your underwear, his touch deliberate as he pulls it aside and slips a finger inside you, making you gasp. “You’re fucking perfect,” he groans, his lips crashing against yours as he deepens the kiss, his finger working inside you with a slow, steady rhythm. You can feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. 

“Don- don’t say ‘fuck’, Lewis,” you tease him with a small smirk as your breathing becomes deeper, “it’s unbecoming.” 

“You’ll see who will be coming in a few minutes, baby.” He chuckles at the way your expression changes at the mention of the word, his fingers moving in deeper as your let out a disapproving moan, “What? You don’t like it when I call you that?” 

With another dissenting hum and a raise of your hips to meet his hand, you let out a long exhale. “I’m not your baby Lewis, stop calling me that.” With the patience that only he can tolerate, he continues the leisurely movements of his fingers. “I want more, please.” 

Lewis tuts at your words softly, chuckling as he takes in your reactions. “I think you have a very important decision to make here,” he murmurs, his eyes suddenly painted with something more serious, “because once I fuck you, I’m not letting you go.”  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” The words come out choppy as your breathing gets more erratic, his fingers stubbornly keeping to the slow rhythm he’s set.  

Lewis's gaze sharpens, the challenge in your tone sparking a flame in his dark eyes. “Oh, you’ll see it, alright,” he murmurs, his voice a velvety promise as his hand withdraws briefly, leaving you breathless and aching. Before you can protest, he moves with deliberate precision, tugging his shirt over his head and revealing the expanse of his chest – sculpted, strong, and utterly captivating. “Get on your hands and knees.” 

The command leaves no room for debate, his voice firm but laden with heat. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, a mixture of defiance and curiosity flickering in your expression. “Bold of you to assume I'll listen,” you quip, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your anticipation. 

Lewis smirks, leaning down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, you'll listen,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Because you know exactly how patient I can be, but the same can’t be said for you.” 

A shiver runs through you at his words, and before you realize it, you’ve complied, shifting onto your hands and knees in the centre of the bed. You can practically feel his gaze on you, then all of a sudden, you can actually feel him behind you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he moves closer. “Good girl,” he says softly, his voice rich with approval, and the way your body reacts to the praise is almost embarrassing. “Oh, my beautiful darling.” His hands skim over your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. The grip is firm, possessive, sending a thrill through you.  

The sounds of him taking himself out of his trousers and pumping cock in his hand is pure debauchery, yet you find yourself pushing your hips back against his thighs. Lewis's low chuckle reverberates through you, a sound full of confidence and desire. His hand tightens on your hips, steadying you as he leans in, his chest brushing against your back. The heat of his skin against yours makes you arch into him instinctively, earning another throaty laugh from him. “You're eager,” he teases, his voice dark and dripping with amusement. “I like you like this.” 

You bite your lip to suppress the needy sound threatening to escape, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Maybe you're just slow,” you retort breathlessly, glancing back at him over your shoulder, a challenging look in your eyes. 

Lewis growls low in his throat, his hands sliding across your back. “Careful,” he warns, though there's a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Push me too far, and I won't be nice.” Your breath catches at his words, but before you can form a response, you feel him guiding himself to your entrance, teasingly dragging against you. The deliberate slowness makes your frustration peak, and you push your hips back, a wordless plea for him to stop teasing. 

“Patience, darling,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise. But even as he says it, he shifts forward, entering you with a deliberate motion that steals the breath from your lungs. 

The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight as he holds still for a moment, letting you adjust. “Lewis,” you breathe, your voice shaky with need.  

His hands gently caress over the skin of your back and hips, soothing over the sharp feeling of Lewis easing himself into you in small movements of his hips. “You’re doing so well,” he shushes your whiny moans, his hands tracing your sides, grounding you. “You feel perfect, we’re almost there, darling.”  

“A-almost?” Your voice cuts his words off, voice shaky with need, “It’s not going to fit, Lewis, I can’t-” 

He leans over you, his lips pressing tender kisses along your spine, each one sending a ripple of warmth through you. His voice is a soothing murmur in your ear. “Relax for me, darling. Let me take care of you.” Your breathing steadies under his touch, the initial sting giving way to a fullness that leaves you breathless as he pushes himself fully into you. You arch your back slightly, pressing into him as his hands continue their gentle exploration of your body. The tenderness in his actions contrasts with the raw desire in his voice, creating a heady mix that leaves you yearning for more. “That's it,” he praises, his tone soft but laced with heat. “You’re incredible. See? We made it fit.” 

“I feel so full.” You manage to let out, voice whiny as the moan is ripped from the back of your throat. “It feels so good, Lewis.” 

He begins to move, a slow, steady rhythm that builds gradually, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction ignites a fire within you, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips, each sound spurring him on. His grip on your hips tightens, his pace increasing as he finds the perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice low and thick with desire. His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair as he pulls you back slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine, you know that? Only mine.”  

The moan that comes from you is dissenting, causing Lewis to slide his hand down your throat to use the leverage to pull you up on your knees, pressed against his chest. “No,” you say, hands extending backwards to keep holding onto him in an attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he is fucking you now. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone igniting something primal within you. “Say it,” he commands, his voice rough as his movements grow more urgent. “Say you're mine.” 

Your breaths are shallow, punctuated by soft whimpers as you cling to him, trying to keep pace with his movements. The way he pulls you against him, his hand firm on your throat, sends a jolt of heat through your core. His hand is firm around your throat, but not uncomfortable to the point that you can’t breathe. 

“I’m not yours,” you gasp defiantly, your voice trembling with every move he makes.  

Lewis growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your back as his hand tightens slightly around your neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you in place. “We’ll see about that,” he says darkly. 

His hips snap against you harder now, his rhythm relentless as if determined to prove you wrong. The overwhelming sensation leaves you gasping, your fingers clutching at his forearm for balance. His free hand slides down your body, gripping your waist to hold you steady as he drives deeper, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. 

“Still not mine?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His tone is equal parts teasing and commanding, daring you to resist him. “Still think someone else can fuck you better than I can?” You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans spilling from you, but the way he moves, the way he claims you, has you crumbling. “Say it,” he repeats, his voice a low growl that echoes through your very core. 

Torn between defiance and surrender, you meet his challenge with a shaky breath. “I’m-” you begin, but he cuts you off with a particularly deep thrust that has you crying out his name instead. 

“Hmm?” Lewis chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying your struggle. His grip on your neck softens slightly as his fingers trace the column of your throat in a soothing gesture. “Come on, baby, just say it.” 

“I’m-” The word catches in your throat as he shifts slightly, the angle of his hips hitting a spot that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. A broken moan escapes your lips instead, and Lewis smirks against your ear, clearly revelling in your unravelling. 

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice low and demanding. His hand slides from your throat to your jaw, turning your face just enough that his lips can brush against the corner of your mouth. The gentleness of the gesture is at odds with the raw intensity of his movements, leaving you breathless. 

“I’m yours,” you finally gasp, the words tumbling out in a mix of desperation and surrender. 

Lewis freezes for a heartbeat, his chest heaving against your back as the admission settles between you. Then, with a triumphant growl, he resumes his pace, his grip on you tightening as if he intends to imprint himself into every fibber of your being. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. His lips trail along your shoulder, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “Say it again.” 

“Yours,” you whisper, the word coming easier this time, though the weight of it still sends a shiver through you. 

His rhythm grows more urgent, his body moving with a single-minded purpose as he pushes you both toward the edge. “Never forget it,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, “now come for me.” You blame the singular cocktail you had three or so hours ago for your compliance to his words, as you feel the wave of pleasure crash over you, obliterating any coherent thought. Your body trembles uncontrollably in his arms, your cries of release echoing in the room as he whispers sweet words of praise in your ear.  

There are a million other things Lewis expects you to say, but you surprise him with a, “I wanna taste you.”  

Lewis's movements still, his breath catching at your unexpected words. He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with surprise and a flicker of intrigue. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is that so?” he murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement and undeniable heat. 

You nod, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze, but there’s a spark of confidence in your eyes. “I really do,” you say softly, the tremble in your voice betraying both your boldness and your eagerness. 

He studies you for a moment longer, his expression shifting to one of reverence laced with desire. "Well," he says, his voice low and gravelly, "who am I to deny you, darling?" With a gentleness that contrasts the fervour of moments ago, Lewis guides you to sit up, his hands warm and steady as they support you. He shifts to the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly, giving you room and letting you take control. His gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes glinting with anticipation. You settle between his thighs, your hands skimming over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles tense under your touch. There's a sense of power in the way his body responds to you, in the way his breathing hitches when your lips brush against him. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with a small smile before leaning in. The moment your mouth closes around him, Lewis groans low in his throat, his head falling back as his control begins to slip. His hands find their way to your hair, his touch gentle but firm as he guides you, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re perfect, baby.” 

The sound of his voice, the way he says your name like it’s the only thing that matters, spurs you on, and you lose yourself in the moment, intent on unravelling him the way he did you. Your lips move with deliberate intent, your tongue tracing teasing paths that have him groaning your name like a prayer. His fingers tighten in your hair, a gentle tug that makes you glance up at him through your lashes. The sight of him – head tilted back, his lips parted as he struggles for breath, sends a thrill through you. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice ragged and filled with awe. His eyes find yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself. The sound he makes is primal, his control slipping further as his hips jerk involuntarily. He tries to hold himself back, but you can tell he’s close to losing himself completely. “Baby,” Lewis rasps, his voice thick with need, “you keep that up, and I won’t last.” You hum around him in response, the vibration pulling another groan from his lips. His hand slips from your hair to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender contrast to the raw passion between you. “Look at me,” he whispers, his tone almost pleading. 

You meet his gaze, and the connection between you feels electric. His chest heaves as his breaths come in quick, shallow bursts, his control hanging by a thread. “I’m so close,” he warns, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me to stop?” The shake of your head is all the answer he needs. With a curse under his breath, he lets go, his body shuddering as he gives himself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He holds your gaze the entire time, his grip on you tightening as if anchoring himself to the moment. 

When he calms down, he collapses back against the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. You sit back after swallowing, a triumphant smile playing on your lips as you take in the sight of him, utterly undone. “That was fun,” you rasp as you take in the sight in front of you. 

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound low and breathless, as he drapes an arm over his face, trying to regain his composure. “Fun?” he repeats, his voice laced with amusement and lingering satisfaction. He peeks at you from under his arm, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of adoration and disbelief. “You’ve got no idea what you just did to me.” 

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you crawl up the bed to lie beside him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you tease, your voice light but with a hint of pride. 

He turns toward you, propping himself up on one elbow, his free hand reaching out to trace lazy circles along your arm. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet filled with a reverence that makes your cheeks flush. “And I’m completely at your mercy.” 

You laugh, the sound light and genuine, as you nuzzle into his touch. “I think you like it that way,” you reply, your fingers grazing over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch. 

“More than you know,” he admits, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. The tender gesture contrasts with the raw intensity you’d just shared, and it sends a warm flutter through your chest. 

For a moment, silence falls between you, the only sound the soft rustling of the sheets and the slowing rhythm of his breathing. Then Lewis shifts, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

The weight of his words settles over you, and you glance up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his gaze. “Good,” you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips.  

He smiles back, a look of pure contentment spreading across his face as he tightens his hold on you. “That’s all I get?” 

“We’ll see how you feel after we get home,” you mumble as you run a finger along the curve of his jaw, “you might be bored of me by then.” 

“Home,” Lewis muses quietly, breaking the silence and ignoring your words. His voice is softer now, contemplative. “I like the sound of that.” 

You glance up at him, his face so close that you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression. It stirs something deep within you – a mix of tenderness and longing that takes you by surprise. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Me too.” 

[jaybaumansbuzzcut]

My vote goes to Vampire Assassin, Hack-O-Lantern, and Cathy's Curse, which is also just my favorite BOTW episode in general.

Happy Spooky Season, RLMblr! 👻🎃🦇

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

End of month update - January

Hello, all! This is the end-of-month update, where I post Tumblr’s current top four films that have received the highest percentage of “yes,” “no,” and “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes.

As of today, the top four films with the highest percentage of “yes” votes are:

Finding Nemo (2003) | Shrek (2001) |The Lion King (1994) | Toy Story (1995)

Next, the top four films with the highest percentage of “no” votes are:

Mulan (2020) | Fifty Shades of Grey (2015) | Sausage Party (2016) | Pinocchio (2019)

This top four changed through the new addition of Mulan (2020), which replaced The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (2011).

Finally, the top four films with the highest percentage of “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes are:

Faat Kiné (2001) | Zumiriki (2019) | Welcome Back, Mr. McDonald(1997) | Now Add Honey (2015)

That’s it for January’s end-of-month update! Remember that you can view last month’s update by clicking here. Additionally, you can view the full ranked Letterboxd lists of movies that have come up on this blog by clicking the following links:

This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “yes” votes.

This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “no” votes.

This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes.

Remember to vote on the polls that are currently running: Love Me Tonight (1932) | The Mighty (1998) | The Best Christmas Ever! (1990) | The Ewok Adventure (1984) | Galaxy Quest (1999) | Trouble in Paradise (1932) | Ewoks: The Battle for Endor (1985) | The Simpsons Movie (2007) | What's Eating Gilbert Grape (1993) | Norma Rae (1979) | I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932) | Dragon Age: Dawn of the Seeker (2012) | The Raid (2011) | Blade (1998) | When Harry Met Sally... (1989) | Boudu Saved from Drowning (1932) | The Feather Fairy (1985) | King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017) | The Gentlemen (2019) | Punishment Park (1971) | Me and My Gal (1932) | Matewan (1987) | Nightcrawler (2014) | Cape Fear (1991) | The Broken Giant (1998) | The Bitter Tea of General Yen (1932) | Mystics in Bali (1981) | No Half Measures: Creating the Final Season of Breaking Bad (2013) | One Crazy Summer: A Look Back at Gravity Falls (2018) | The Omen (1976) | She Done Him Wrong (1933) | My Cousin Vinny (1992) | Autumn Marathon (1979) | Quiz Show (1994) | Caddyshack (1980)

[hexsdexs]

the urge to just. rant about how sometimes the prospect of getting famous can be a damned if you do damned if you don't (and no one actually cares about your mental health) as well as how well meaning people (and I can't speak for anywhere but australia) perpetuate such bad ableism and colonial racism in the name of helping people. it's like spin the wheel for an off chance something actually does do good for you (and that's why it's so beautiful when it does happen!)

Omg i never get asks even when my posts get popular this is actually exciting 😭 but yes omg!!!! I could talk about the fame thing and young artists literally for HOURS like the system is genuinely so rigged. one direction and 5sos and jb and shawn mendes and countless others were so preyed upon in plain sight and the fangirls were too young to actually realize it. Rewatching some clips now as a 22 year old sometimes genuinely makes me nauseous. Like wdym you had 18-20 year olds naked on a rolling stones cover and gave a 16 year old the "womanizer". LIKE HUH????? JB being SAd ON TV???? Conversations about fame never include the young men and I'm sick of it. and even when they get with women. Like luke and arzaylea??? He had to go through a very toxic relationship very unbelievably publicly and it was being criticized every single day. The men are purposely being marketed in a way that promotes parasocial relationships. Its crazy. A few weeks ago i went back on Twitter for the first time since 2016 ( i deleted the app after the bali trip i genuinely couldnt take it anymore) and i ended up in a BIG rabbit hole about crystals age conspiracy theories and alleged group chats with sierra and her relationship with luke or whatever. I had to step back and say "honestly, even if IT IS true, whats it to me? I dont know these people. God i love them so much and want the world for them. But i dont know them. Any opinion i might have is worthless, and this is baseless gossip." Like more than a decade in and we're STILL doing this?? Like im so old now, are you guys not as old??

[luciferlaughs]

Mekayla Bali's disappearance on April 12, 2016, from her hometown of Yorkton, Saskatchewan, has remained a haunting mystery, capturing the attention of both law enforcement and the public. The 16-year-old Canadian was last seen at a local bus stop between 1:00 and 1:45 p.m., sparking a frantic search effort that has yet to yield any definitive leads. The day before her diappearance, she visited the bank to have $25 wired to her account. Later, she texted several friends that she was upset and needed help with something, but no further explanation was provided. The day she went missing was marked by a series of perplexing events, adding layers to the enigma surrounding her case. She texted a friend at around 6:41am asking for a ride to the bank again, but the friend declined since the bank was closed. Her grandmother then drove her to school at around 8:10am. Surveillance cameras showed her putting her binder in her locker and then slipping out the back entrance. She hiked all the way to the bank, where she withdrew $55. She then went to a Wendy's/Tim Horton's restaurant, where, for the next hour or so, she exhibited strange behaviour. Footage shows her disassembling her phone and then reassembling it. Multiple times she left the restaurant, wandered around, and then re-entered. She spent much of her time talking on the phone and texting, including a friend whom she asked for help with something, only to follow it up with ''Nevermind I figured it out''. She also asked a random customer for help with renting a hotel room, but was turned down. At around 11am, she went to the bus stop and asked a stranger when the next stop to Regina would be. Since the bus wasn't going to arrive until 5pm, she left without purchasing a ticket and went back to school for the lunch period, where she met with friends and told them she was planning a trip to Regina. At around 12:03pm, she departed from school and went to a Trail Stop Restaurant, which was attached to a bus stop. She ordered food and left about an hour later. She was never seen by eyewitnesses again, nor was she captured on surveillance footage anywhere. Police were able to confirm she did not get on any bus that day, either. Over the years, various theories have emerged regarding Bali's disappearance, ranging from the possibility of her running away to concerns about human trafficking or falling victim to an online predator. Despite reported sightings and extensive police investigations, including the review of hundreds of hours of surveillance footage and interviews with potential witnesses, Bali's whereabouts remain unknown, leaving her family in agonizing uncertainty.

[maybankbae]

Valentine’s Day Plans

Word Count: 1,000+

Warnings: Strong Language

AN: Okay what if i said this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written. Maybe it’s because Cal is my cheat lane as well. Happy reading and hope you all enjoy<3

————

February 13th 2019

Daniella Walker. The name that is mainstream as she was making her way into the music scene as what the internet calls their "pop princess."

Daniella first had internet fame how everyone does in the early 2010's, by posting on Youtube. From the age of 16 she started posting covers of her singing different popular songs at the time ranging from Halsey to Ariana Grande. First viral video being her cover of Honeymoon Avenue from the album Yours Truly.

Her life changed at 19 when one of her self produced songs called Speechless dropped and became an overnight sensation. Flying from her home country of London, England to countless radio interviews to her first American Music Awards as an attendee and performer at.

That’s when she met some of her longtime friends in the music industry, 5 Seconds of Summer. She met them because she accidentally bumped into a red haired Micheal as she was coming off stage and they were about to take the stage. The two gushing over much they enjoyed each other’s music.

She was a huge Amnesia fan.

Over the years they continued to keep contact with one another. She was featured on their 3rd album Youngblood on their song Want You Back as backing vocals.

Daniella had also become a regular feature in 5SOS content. As well as being posted on their respective girlfriend’s Instagram’s pretty frequently.

For a little while she was considered a groupie when she went to Bali with them in 2016. Until stan twitter quickly defended her from the trolls on the internet claiming how do they not know her.

She was now 24 standing in line at her favorite local coffee and bagel spot in downtown Los Angeles. The line continued move at a slow pace as she hummed along to the beat in her airpods she been sent the night previous. She was absolutely in love with it. She had a studio session set with Max Martin that she definitely couldn't be late for.

He's worked with artists like Taylor Swift, Kelly Clarkson, Ariana Grande, and Britney Spears.

It's been a dream of hers to work with him and only her 3rd album that is saying she's gotta be doing something right.

She finally approached Bailey, one of the cashiers she had blossomed a friendship from after being a regular here for 4 months.

"Everything bagel with a side of strawberry cream cheese and Iced Americano double shot with light ice and vanilla creamer!" She shouted to the back. "Hey Daniella."

A smile was plastered on her face. "Hey girlfriend! You'll never believe what I've got planned today." She started as she dug in her purse for her card to hand over for her to swipe.

"Please you're literally a pop star. If you told me you were going to meet up with Kim Kardashian I would probably believe you." She stated in her strong jersey accent as she handed the card back.

"No I wish, but on my bucket list though, maybe I could get a discount on those Skims bodysuits I like. Anyways besides the point here, somehow managed to get a studio session with Max Martin! And cherry on top, the guys are showing up with Ryan fucking Tedder.” She said excitedly as she moved off to the side of the line so other people could move.

"See this is what I mean. It's Thursday at nine in the morning and you're going to work with your hot Australian friends and I'm here covered in flour all day while dealing with the bitches in the back and isn't Max Martin that Swedish dude who's written and produced for basically every A list singer." She leaned against the register.

"Yeah it's so exciting is it not. And Alexis you're so talented at making bagels. Hone in on that." She joked making the curly haired blonde roll her eyes in fake annoyance.

“Your accent makes this sound all posh Dani.”

“Oh whatever.”

"Your beautiful everything bagel and iced coffee m'lady." Bailey turned around to the kitchen workers as she handed her two paper bags one full of her favorite little snacks and the other with her bagel.

"Oh my goodness, you didn't have to do th-." She started.

"Oh please shut up yes I did. You're gonna be late with the hot guys.”

“Text me when you can, I'd love to hear all about it." She smiled.

"Will do."

As she was on the highway on the way to the studio her mind was clouded with thoughts some negative some positive, but mostly negative.

Before she knew it she was finding a parking spot and walking into Capitol Records.

Showing security her badge, she looked down at her Apple Watch and cursed, realizing she was going to be late if she didn’t climb the stairs in under 2 minutes. Thank god for her zumba classes she’s been taking.

Once she figured out what studio she was gonna be in for the next 6 hours, she spotted his long hair and glasses talking to Ryan and the four men sat in the couch in the corner. All of them laughing at something on Luke's phone. She knocked bringing their attention to her standing at the door slightly out of breath.

"Daniella! Pleasure to finally meet you." Max said getting up from the comfy chair to give her hug.

"So nice to meet you too. I'm so incredibly excited and I also see you've invited some of my good friends." She stated nudging Ryan's elbow.

"He had a lot of positive things to say about you." He said sitting back down.

"Daniella you probably know them," Ryan gestured to the men sitting on the couch.

"Know them. These guys are basically a second family to me." She joked.

"I hope you don't mind that I decided to bring them along here to hopefully do some live instrumentals for ya." He told her looking at her with a smile.

"Oh my goodness not at all! It actually sounds so cool. I’ve missed these guys." She smiled widely.

Micheal stood up and gave her a brotherly hug. “Have you gotten shorter?” He joked making Daniella give him the bird.

“Haven’t you gotten weirder.”

“Touché.”

Ashton was next, giving her another squeeze and pat on the head.

Then Luke who did their handshake they made up in Bali together, that neither of them forgot even after 4 years.

Finally it was Calum who smiled at her first and then suddenly picked up her up and spun her around in a circle, earning a loud laugh from Daniella and his signature smile that she still got butterflies from.

Even after her 6 years of knowing him, he still makes her blush like a school girl.

“Alright everyone let’s get to work to hear this beautiful voice of hers.” Max stated turning around and facing the recording booth as Daniella walked in and put on her headphones.

Two hours passed as Daniella stood in the recording booth, recording the second verse. She was mumbling the possible verse in the microphone. The song had a Lorde lyricism with Ariana Grande singing vibe.

She and Max had titled the song Selfish. Max and Ryan giving her corrections if needed. Other than the couple comments or corrections from the group she had total artistic freedom and she loved that.

“Could we leave that first half blank of that chorus and I’ll stack some more vocal layers on that run.” Daniella suggested over the noise of the metronome. “Thank you.”

“Yup sounds amazing.”

While Ryan was stacking her vocals, she leaned next to Ashton's drum kit and told him what pace she needed for the chorus.

Calum was fiddling with his bass strings trying to tune them when Daniella walked over. “So what’s your big opinion on it??”

“I think it sounds bloody brilliant.” He said in a Scottish accent.

“Don’t make fun of the Scottish people.”

“You always seem to forget I’m half Scottish and you’re literally British.” He laughed as she hit his tattooed arm slightly.

Max leaned into Micheal's headset, "Okay Mike start from when Daniella comes in at "I used to be cautious about this and stop when the beat drops back down to the acoustic version that we have prepared.”

3 more hours passed as their session ended and Daniella so proud of the song they had made and gotten mastered.

"Alright, could we schedule another one for Friday morning? We’ve got selfish crossed off the list. We could get started on Messier Things as well." Max asked her looking at his calendar.

She nodded with a thumbs up. "That should work with me."

"It was so good to finally see you guys today. What’s new in the wonderful world of 5SOS land." She asked the boys as they were walking to a lunch spot on the less crowded side of LA so the likelihood of them all being noticed and ambushed by paparazzi was a zero percent chance.

“Going on a promo tour for Easier. Thats literally all. New York, LA, Atlanta, and some overseas.” Ashton said laughing.

"Well whatt are you guys doing for the day of love that happens to be tomorrow." She asked wiggling her fingers together.

"Spending time with Sierra." Luke quickly answered with a smile. He loves that woman more than air it seems. But it’s good to see him so happy.

"Crystal wants to go see some new movie." Micheal stated with a raised eyebrows. He probably had no clue but he was with Crystal and thats all he cared about.

“Oo lemme know if you need a dog sitter. I’ll bring Pepper. Y’know she loves Moose and Southy.”

"Probably just a dinner with KayKay." Ashton’s bright smile came up whenever he talked about KayKay.

"Absolutely nothing." Calum said quickly with a slight eye roll. She knew how he felt about Valentine's Day. He hated that day with every fiber in his being.

"We could spend it together Cal, I'm not doing anything either. It can be like old times!" Reminiscing on when they would go their favorite Ramen restaurant in the city and rewatch Criminal Minds at his house whenever they were both free.

As much as only everyone around them knows, they've had a flirty relationship ever since they've met. But what they don’t know is they claim they’re just friends who have occasionally kissed each other, slept in the same bed, and she's worn his clothes more than once but just friends.

But due to them being too awkward to act upon their obvious feelings, they have no official label on whatever they are.

"Ramen on Melrose it is." He laughed making Daniella laugh along with him.

[chaifootsteps]

God, I fucking hate the morons that go "Here come the dummies making comments about animal abuse!!! It's called conservation, sweaty <3" because they're so fucking obnoxiously uneducated, it's not even funny. Like you said, REAL conservation sites will not let you feed the animals, for one thing, and I also literally volunteer at a raptors rescue center in which TONS of our birds had to be rescued from horrible fucking "owl cafe" type locations in which the birds are neglected and treated like decorations rather than living fucking creatures. These people have LITERALLY NO IDEA how bad these places are for the animals, and yet they pretend like they do, they're literally telling on themselves by showing how fucking stupid they are. In an ACTUAL conservation center like mine, we do have flight shows and we have SOME birds that we allow customers to pet and hold (ones that have been with us for years and that we know have the temperament for it, as well as it having to happen with a staff member present and not for long periods of time) but after that, they get put back into their own enclosures. Repeat, ENCLOSURES, that are large, and with space for them to move and fly as they please. Not one fucking stick that they're goddamn chained to for people to gawk at. These people are tone-deaf, brainless idiots if they genuinely believe those cafes are suitable environments for wild animals. To all Vivzie stans that are defending her support of these places, from the bottom of my heart, fuck you, you horrific, awful, animal abuse enablers. That is what you are, no matter how much you yell and cry that it's not. Fuck you.

It's absolutely maddening. The smug "um, it's called conservation sweaty, it's being rehabilitated in a sanctuary" remarks on the false killer whale burned me the most because cetaceans are my thing in the way birds are yours and there are very few real sanctuaries for cetaceans.

One is the Umba Lumba Center in West Bali, which rehabilitates and releases show dolphins and cares for those who can't. The beluga whale sanctuary in Iceland is another. They're trying to set up one in Nova Scotia, and the Baltimore Aquarium has (ostensibly) been trying ever since 2016.

Okinawa Churaumi Aquarium, where Viv visisted, is not one of these. Okinawa Churaumi keeps Taiji dolphins.

[putrikaguya]

Come back to Japan! PART 1.

Finally yeaaayy

Setelah 8th berlalu, akhirnya bisa menginjakkan kaki lagi di Jepang (walau rasanya masih seperti mimpi) . Aku mulai ceritanya berawal dari 2th lalu beli HP baru terus pingin ganti foto pas kondisi HP terkunci, aku taro foto bunga sakura karna ingetin aku waktu cherry blossom 2016 lalu.

Disusul dengan mertua info kalau nanti ada rezeki, kita liburan yuk, kemana enaknya? Singapore? Jepang? Lalu aku jawab "Kalau Jepang aku ikut ma." Terus Agustus tahun kemarin mertua info yaudah kita ke Jepang Oktober ya, tapi waktunya kayak terlalu mepet apalagi suami jatah cutinya udah abis yaudah jadi mundur ke musim sakura, yang mana aku kayak ini beneran nih bisa liat sakura lagi???

Singkat cerita setelah urusan e-paspor dan visa beres, H-1 sempet ada drama karna kita lupa info ke airlines nomer epaspor baru, masih pake paspor yang lama wkwk. Tapi aku jempolin banget buat CS China Airlines Bali yg bantu kita satset, thankyou so much Pak Ngurah for helping us ngelebin travel yang kita pake. Kita take off jam 1.40 pagi, jam 2an dibangunin makan, padahal sebelumnya kita udah makan jam 11 jadi aku bangun makan, tidur lagi eh udah transit.

Ini pengalaman baru juga transit di Taiwan. Banyak tempat seru buat main games, wifinya super kenceng, jadi ga terlalu berasa transit 4 jam. Sampai Jepang jam 5 sore, sempet bermasalah sama imigrasi elektronik karna yang ribet beberapa staf imigrasi Jepang terbatas bahasa inggrisnya jadi diarahin ke yg bisa bahasa Inggris. Cuma mereka bilang "Ini hanya masalah kecil, harusnya ga sulit kok jadi tenang aja ya." Yang ternyata masalahnya memang karna suami salah masukin tanggal kedatangan jadi gagal terus ketika di scan hahaha.

Urusan imigrasi kelar, dari Narita kita nginep di Asakusabashi, sekitar 55 menit dari airport. Kita naik kereta. Pas naik ada 1 bangku kosong jadi aku duduk di situ, eh ternyata depannya juga ada kosong jadi aku suru suami duduk di situ. Setelah beberapa stasiun, orang yg duduk di sampingnya samping aku turun, tapi depannya ada yang berdiri. Eh bapak samping aku pindah ke situ terus pake bahasa isyarat nyuru suamiku pindah ke samping aku biar kita bisa duduk sebelahan. Tapi karna ada orang yg masih berdiri kita ga enak suru suami pindah ke samping aku. Jadinya kita suru yang berdiri duduk di bangku suami dan suami pindah ke samping aku. Eh orang yang berdiri tetep ga mau duduk yaudah hahaha. Pas bapaknya turun beliau ngebungkuk ke kita kasi salam, kita juga ikut say thankyou. Sungguh hal hal begini sih yang bikin seneng ke Jepang.

Pas turun kereta auto kaget sama cuacanya yang ternyata dingin banget. Yowes aku langsung ke hotel dan besok paginya kita jalan jalan, lanjut di PART 2 yaa :)

[the5sosarchive]

5SOS in their friends posts while they were on their Bali trip — Jan. 1st, 2016

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 1.31

Holidays

Africa Day of Peace & Reconciliation

Apollo 14 Day

Appreciate Your Social Security Check Day

Backwards Day

Bob Ferguson Day

Brexit Day (UK)

Child Labor Day

Dicing for Maid's Money Day (Surrey, UK)

Eve of Brigantia (Ireland)

Explorer I Day

Final Fantasy VIII Day (Japan)

Feast of Great Typos

Green Hornet Day

Hell Is Freezing Over Day

Hug an Economist Day

Inspire Your Heart With Art Day

International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Men & Boys

International Day of the Magicians

International Omphalocele Awareness Day

International Street Children’s Day

Jackie Robinson Day

Me-Dam-Me-Phi (Assam, India)

National Appreciation Day for Catholic Schools

National Bug Busting Day (UK)

National Gorilla Suit Day (Don Martin, in Mad Magazine)

National Music Therapy Day (Mexico)

National Pick on Lindsay Day

National Punk Day

Pal-O-Ween (from “Kevin Can F**k Himself”) [Every 31st]

Phlegm - Green, Moldy - Gray, and Gazzard* Day (Goblins; Shamanism) [*Gazzard. A color unknown in the human world and one which, quite honestly, you wouldn't want to know]

Play An Old Game You Haven't Played In Years Night

Saint Brigid’s Eve (Ireland)

Scotch Tape Day

Street Children's Day (Austria)

St. Veronus' Day (patron saint of Lembeek & Belgian brewers)

Thermos Bottle Day

Train Hijacking Day

Twist Off Cap Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Brandy Alexander Day

Day of Russian Vodka

Eat Brussels Sprouts Day

National Hot Chocolate Day

World Vegan Chocolate Day

Nature Celebrations

Broccoli Day (French Republic)

International Zebra Day

Rabbit Rabbit Day [Last Day of Every Month]

Spring Crocus (Joy of Youth; Korean Birth Flowers)

Independence, Flag & Related Days

Ladoland (Declared; 2016) [unrecognized]

Nauru (from Australia, 1968)

Varladia (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

New Year’s Days

Año Nuevo en Tupiza (Tupiza New Year; Indigenous Bolivia)

Chinese New Year; Day 3 (Sin Jyu Yat; China, Malaysia)

Tet Holiday (Vietnam)

Third Day of the Lunar New Year (Hong Kong, Macau)

5th & Last Friday in January

Big Garden Birdwatch begins (UK) [Last Friday thru Sunday]

Comfort Food Friday [Every Friday]

Earned Income Tax Credit Awareness Day [Last Friday]

EITC Awareness Day [Last Friday]

Finally Friday [Last Friday of Each Month]

Five For Friday [Every Friday]

Flashback Friday [Every Friday]

Flatbread Friday [Last Friday of Each Month]

Friday Finds [Every Friday]

Fry Day (Pastafarian; Fritism) [Every Friday]

Great Mental Health Day (London) [Last Friday]

International Fun at Work [Last Friday]

National Big Wig Day [Last Friday]

National Have Fun at Work Day (a.k.a. Fun At Work Day) [Last Friday]

National Preschool Fitness Day [Last Friday]

RNLI SOS Day (UK) [Last Friday]

Stout & Chowder Festival (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) [Last Friday]

TGIF (Thank God It's Friday) [Every Friday]

Weekly Holidays beginning January 31 (Last Week of January)

None Known

Festivals Beginning January 31, 2025

Carnival of Santa Cruz de Tenerife (Tenerife, Spain) [thru 3.9]

Englewood Seafood & Music Festival (Englewood, Florida) [thru 2.2]

Fajr International Film Festival (Tehran, Iran) [thru 2.4]

Gourd Festival (Casa Grande, Arizona) [thru 2.2]

Gulf Coast Watermelon Association Annual Convention (Biloxi, Mississippi) [thru 2.1]

Mar-Del Watermelon Convention (Cambridge, Maryland) [thru 2.2]

Meltdown Winter Ice Festival (Richmond, Indiana) [thru 2.1]

Nebraska Sustainable Agriculture Society Conference (Nebraska City, Nebraska) [thru 2.1]

SIKKA Art Fair (Dubai, UAE) [thru 2.9]

Six Nations Rugby Championship (thru 3.15)

Triangle Wine & Food Experience (Raleigh, North Carolina) [thru 2.1]

Waterfront Fine Art & Wine Festival (Scottsdale, Arizona) [thru 2.2]

Winterlude [Bal de Neige] (Gatineau, Canada) [thru 2.17]

Feast Days

Adamnan of Coldingham (Christian; Saint)

Amartithi (Meher Baba Remembrance Day; India)

Anacreon (Positivist; Saint)

Banyu Pinaruh (Water Purification Ceremony; Bali)

Celebration of the Triple Goddess (Goddess of the Moon and the Seasons; Old European Lunar New Year) [Thru 2.3]

Cyrus and John (Christian; Martyrs)

Day of Hecate (Goddess of Crossroads; Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Dicing for Maid’s Money (Guildford, UK)

Disablot (Norse celebration of new beginnings)

Disfest (Sacrifice Honoring the Disir, all female relatives from forever)

Domitius (Domice) of Amiens (Christian; Saint)

Eusebius (Christian; Martyr)

Feast of Isis (Ancient Egypt)

Feast of Sarasvati (Ancient Indian Goddess of Education; Nepal; Everyday Wicca)

Festival of Transmission Errors

Festival to Kuan Yin (Goddess of Compassion (Buddhism; China)

Francis Xavier Bianchi (Christian; Saint)

Geminianus (Christian; Saint)

Honey Badger Avoidance Day (Pastafarian)

Imbolc Eve (Celtic Book of Days)

Imbolc Eve: Day of the Bean Sidhe (Pagan)

John Bosco (Christian; Saint)

Julius of Novara (Christian; Saint)

Ludovica (Christian; Blessed)

Máedóc of Ferns (a.k.a. Maidoc, Mogue, Aidan, Aiden; Christian; Saint)

Marcella (Christian; Saint)

Mary the Gorilla (Muppetism)

Max Pechstein (Artology)

Me-Dam-Me-Phi (Ahom Veneration of the Dead; Assam, India)

Narcissus Flower Festival (Ancient Hawai’i)

Navajo Sing (Preparation Festival for Coming Agricultural Season) [Through 2.8]

Nicetas of Novgorod (Christian; Saint)

Norman Mailer (Writerism)

Peter or Pedro Nolasco (Christian; Saint)

Rodolphe Töpffer (Artology)

Samuel Shoemaker (Episcopal Church (USA))

Seapion (Christian; Saint)

Theodore Kaczinski Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Tysul (Christian; Saint)

Ulphia (Christian; Virgin)

Valkyries’ Day (Norse)

Veronus  (Christian; Saint) [Lembeek & Belgian brewers]

Wilgils (Christian; Saint)

Lunar Calendar Holidays

Chinese: Month 1 (Wu-Yin), Day 3 (Geng-Zi)

Day Pillar: Metal Rat

12-Day Officers/12 Gods: Close Day (閉 Bi) [Inauspicious]

Holidays: Spring Festival Golden Week

Secular Saints Days

Ernie Banks (Sports)

Carol Channing (Entertainment)

Minnie Driver (Entertainment)

Philip Glass (Music)

Zane Grey (Literature)

Don Hutson (Sports)

Ben Jonson (Literature)

Terry Kath (Music)

Richard Henry Lee (Politics)

Laura Lippman (Literature)

Alan Lomax (Music)

Norman Mailer (Literature)

Gerald McDermott (Art)

Grant Morrison (Literature)

Charlie Musselwhite (Music)

Kenzaburō Ōe (Literature)

John O’Hara (Literature)

Betty Parsons (Art)

Suzanne Pleshette (Entertainment)

Jackie Robinson (Music)

Nolan Ryan (Music)

Franz Schubert (Music)

Rodolphe Töpffer (Art)

Jessica Walter (Entertainment)

Ken Wilber (Philosophy)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Prime Number Day: 31 [11 of 72]

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Ali Baba (ComicColor Cartoon; 1936)

All My Children (TV Soap Opera; 1949)

Aloha Hooey (WB MM Cartoon; 1942)

Along Came Fido (Hot Dog Bray Cartoon; 1927)

The Animal Fair (Aesop’s Sound Fable Cartoon; 1931)

The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman (TV Film; 1974)

Barney’s Hungry Cousin, featuring Barney Bear (MGM Cartoon; 1953)

The Bear and the Bean, featuring Barney Bear (MGM Cartoon; 1948)

Being and Time, by Martin Heidegger (Philosophy Book; 1927)

Bellerophon, by Jean-Baptiste Lully (Opera; 1679)

Betty Boop and the Little King (Betty Boop Cartoon; 1936)

Black Sunday, by Thomas Harris (Novel; 1975)

Cheerful Little Pierful or Bomb Voyage (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 19; 1960)

Down and Out in Beverly Hills (Film; 1986)

Family Guy (Animated TV Series; 1999)

Gia (Film; 1998)

The Green Hornet (Radio Series; 1936)

Judge’s Crossword Puzzles #1 (Pioneer Films Cartoon; 1925)

The June Bride (Aesop’s Film Fable Cartoon; 1926)

Key & Peele (TV Series; 2012)

The Lone Ranger (Radio Series; 1933)

McDougal’s Rest Farm (Terrytoons Heckle & Heckle Cartoon; 1947)

A Mouse Divided (WB MM Cartoon; 19353

Mr. & Mrs. Smith (Film; 1941)

Mr. Nobody Holme, He Buys a Jitney (Heart-Vitagraph News Pictorial Cartoon; 1916)

Murphy’s Romance (Film; 1986)

Mystery Girl, by Roy Orbison (Album; 1989)

Never Again (Gaumont Cartoon Comics Cartoon; 1917)

The Owl and the Pussycat (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1939)

Pagan Moon (WB MM Cartoon; 1932)

A Perfect Day for Bananafish, by J.D. Salinger (Short Story; 1948)

Ragnarok (TV Series; 2020)

Rough and Tumbleweed (Inspector Willoughby Cartoon; 1961)

The Saint on the Spanish Main, by Leslie Charteris (Short Stories 1955) [Saint #31]

Sara Smile, by Hall & Oates (Song; 1976)

Sharps and Flats (Krazy Kat Cartoon; 1927)

The Soup Song, featuring Flip the Frog (Ub Iwerks MGM Cartoon; 1931)

The Spiderwick Chronicles (Film; 2008)

Station to Station, by David Bowie (Album; 1976)

Summer Squash or He’s Too Flat for Me (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 20; 1960)

Sydney Bulletin (Weekly Magazine; Australia; 1880)

Teddy, by J.D. Salinger (Short Story; 1953)

These Are My Children (TV Soap Opera; 1949) [1st TV Soap Opera]

Thoughts In Solitude, by Thomas Merton (Spiritual Book; 1956)

The Village Smitty, featuring Flip the Frog (Ub Iwerks MGM Cartoon; 1931)

Who’s Who in the Zoo (WB LT Cartoon; 1942)

The Witness for the Prosecution, by Agatha Christie (Short Story; 1948)

The Wonder Years (TV Series; 1988)

Today’s Name Days

Johannes, Marcella (Austria)

Ivan, Julije, Vanja (Croatia)

Marika (Czech Republic)

Vigilius (Denmark)

Meeland, Meelik, Meelis, Meelit, Meelitu, Meelo, Meelu (Estonia)

Alli (Finland)

Marcelle (France)

Johannes, Marcella, Rudbert (Germany)

Evdoxia, Kyros (Greece)

Gerda, Marcella (Hungary)

Geminiano, Giovanni (Italy)

Dekla, Jalna, Tekla, Tikla, Violeta (Latvia)

Astra, Budvilė, Marcelė, Skirmantas (Lithuania)

Idun, Ivar (Norway)

Cyrus, Euzebiusz, Jan, Ksawery, Ludwik, Marceli, Marcelin, Marcelina, Piotr, Spycigniew, Wirgiliusz (Poland)

Chir, Ioan (Romania)

Ksenia (Russia)

Emil (Slovakia)

Juan, Marcela (Spain)

Ivar, Joar (Sweden)

Cyrus, Kira, Kyra, Lona, Loni, Lonnie, Scarlett, Zane (USA)

Today’s National Name Days

National Seth Day

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 31 of 2025; 334 days remaining in the year

ISO Week: Day 5 of Week 5 of 2025

Celtic Tree Calendar: Luis (Rowan) [Day 11 of 28]

Chinese: Month 1 (Wu-Yin), Day 3 (Geng-Zi)

Chinese Year of the: Snake 4723 (until February 17, 2026) [Ding-Chou]

Coptic: 23 Tubah 1741

Druid Tree Calendar: Cypress (Jan 25-Feb 3) [Day 7 of 10]

Hebrew: 2 Shevat 5785

Islamic: 1 Sha’ban 1446

Julian: 18 January 2025

Moon: 6%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 3 Homer (2nd Month) [Anacreon)

Runic Half Month: Elhaz (Elk) [Day 10 of 15]

Season: Winter (Day 42 of 90)

Sun Calendar: 1 Gray; Oneday [1 of 30]

Week: 4th & Last Week of January

Zodiac:

Tropical (Typical) Zodiac: Aquarius (Day 12 of 30)

Sidereal Zodiac: Capricorn (Day 17 of 29)

Schmidt Zodiac: Capricorn (Day 6 of 27)

IAU Boundaries (Current) Zodiac: Capricorn (Day 12 of 28)

IAU Boundaries (1977) Zodiac: Capricornus (Day 13 of 28)

Calendar Changes

Gray (Month 2 of 12; Sun Calendar)

Shaʿbān [شَعْبَان] (Islamic Calendar) [Month 8 of 12] (Scattered)

[aquitainequeen]

When Julia Bialetska and her husband Eugene Tomilin decided to travel the world, Bali at first seemed a paradise island.

“We were doing surfing sessions there and one day all the beach and the ocean were covered with this huge amount of plastic,” she remembers. “It was brought from the ocean. And this picture was so devastating, I still see it when I close my eyes.”

That was the moment, in 2016, that this Ukrainian biochemist graduate realised that she wanted to do something about throwaway plastic. Working with the M.G. Kholodny Institute of Botany back in Kiev, she and Tomilin started experimenting. They began to grow a material that played on the strength of waste hemp fibres, which they ‘glued’ together with mycelium – the network of fungal threads that mushrooms grow from.

The result is a natural replacement for expanded polystyrene – that lightweight material that is so useful as packaging that in 2016 we produced 6.6m metric tons of it. They may not be the only startup working on this kind of solution, but Bialetska and Tomilin’s company, called S.Lab, is certainly on a winning streak at the moment.

Read more from Senay Boztas!

[selkienight60]

Hi Selkie!

What's the best vacation you've ever been on, and what was the highlight experience?

Rae x

The BEST vacation I’ve ever been on… dang… Rae, I’m on an international plane every three years for a holiday at minimum…

Alright, I have to say, I think my trip to Japan in 2016 (the first time I went) was pretty dang incredible. But in saying this, the time I went to Japan (2023) with @sassydefendorflower was ALSO incredible. But in saying this, the time I went to NY and Canada in 2019 was ALSO incredible. But in saying this, the time I went to Singapore and Malaysia in 2014 was ALSO incredible…

Bali (2024) could have been a pass though, comparatively… 😆 (/j)

[fucklliv]

بما انك تتقهوين اسمعي

https://soundcloud.com/anees-kh/aa-bali-fell-2016

ولآه كمان على التوقيت المناسب بطحن پن كوب آخر :) شكرًا.

[mariacallous]

Pilger’s politics can fairly be described as anti-American, in that he reflexively saw the United States as a malevolent actor in any conceivable situation. That idée fixe in turn drove him to the conviction that any regime opposed by the US was automatically innocent or even benign. Interviewed on the state-propaganda outlet Russia Today in 2018, he declared the Putin regime’s attempted murder of Sergei and Yulia Skripal in Salisbury a ‘carefully constructed drama in which the media plays a role’. He said in December 2021, as if Ukrainians lacked any capacity to speak and act for themselves and were merely puppets of Washington: ‘It was the US that overthrew the elected govt in Ukraine in 2014 allowing Nato to march right up to Russia’s western border.’

The apotheosis of this approach was an article in 2016 in which Pilger claimed: ‘The International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) in The Hague has quietly cleared the late Serbian president, Slobodan Milosevic, of war crimes committed during the 1992-95 Bosnian war, including the massacre at Srebrenica.’

There was, I need hardly say, no truth whatever in this preposterous fabrication. With all too familiar legerdemain and gullibility, Pilger had alighted on an article on the Russia Today website and, without stating this was his source, plagiarised it. In my view this episode marks, in its combination of idleness and indecency, the nadir of Pilger’s career, and it was a very low and shady point indeed.

This is not the place to set out the chronology of the Bosnian war but what the mainstream media (including The Guardian, through the exemplary reporting of Ed Vulliamy and Maggie O’Kane) said about it at the time was simply the truth. The war was not a cover for American power: it was a campaign of genocidal aggression conducted by Bosnian Serb forces covertly orchestrated from Belgrade, and in which Nato intervened against their positions far too late. It was also, as I have described here, a terrible augury of the barbarous assault that another European autocrat, Vladimir Putin, would direct against Ukraine 30 years afterwards.

What, then, of the earlier body of Pilger’s work, before his alleged journalistic and ethical deterioration? In the nature of things, it was not always wrong, but it was always reductive. His condemnation of Australian recognition of Indonesia’s occupation of East Timor, in print and in his 1994 film Death of a Nation, was entirely correct. But to be right on a discrete issue was never enough for him. He would have to construct some overarching explanation (or, less politely, a conspiracy theory) in which to embed it. He hence charged that Australia was administering a ‘hidden empire’ that ‘stretches from the Aboriginal slums of Sydney to the South Pacific’. You’d be hard put to find any such coherence in Australian foreign policy, which has often been made on the hoof and at the mercy of events.

When East Timor eventually achieved its independence, it did so to the fury of Osama bin Laden and al-Qaeda. It was, in their eyes, an affront, for East Timor (whose population is overwhelmingly Roman Catholic) was properly a ‘part of the Islamic world’ and belonged to Indonesia. This complaint was explicitly cited by bin Laden in justifying al-Qaeda’s bombing of the Indonesian tourist resort of Bali in October 2002, which killed 202 people including 88 Australians.

Pilger was usually quick to blame western foreign policy for provoking terrorism – he referred to the 7/7 attacks in London in 2005 as ‘Blair’s bombs’ – yet here was a case where western nations incurred the wrath of al-Qaeda for unequivocally (if belatedly) doing the right thing. The geopolitical situation was more complex than he had supposed, and than you would imagine from reading his output. He dealt with the disjunction of theory and fact in time-honoured fashion, by never mentioning it.

John Pilger was a charlatan and a fraudster