#city hall (1996)

[mangocharmer]

Al Pacino as Mayor John Pappas - CITY HALL (1996)

[alpacinocharactertournament]

AL PACINO CHARACTER TOURNAMENT ROUND ONE

michael: the youngest son of the don of a mafia family, fighting against being drawn into the family business without much success

john: the mayor of new york city

[alpacinogifs]

CITY HALL (1996) dir. Harold Becker AL PACINO as Mayor John Pappas

[filmap]

Trois vies et une seule mort / Three Lives and Only One Death Raúl Ruiz. 1996

City Hall Pl. de l'Hôtel de Ville, 75004 Paris, France See in map

See in imdb

[rabbitcruiser]

The Halifax Regional Municipality (or HRM) was created on April 1, 1996.  

[foggycatgarden]

Al Pacino City Hall 1996

[hayaomiyazaki]

as i mentioned last week, i have refreshed about 300gb of content on my public googledrive 😙

an overview of most of what i added...

features

Olivia (1951) dir. Jacqueline Audry 🇫🇷🏳️‍🌈

A Child Is Waiting (1963) dir. John Cassavetes 🇺🇸

Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967) dir. George Roy Hill 🇺🇸

Personal Best (1982) dir. Robert Towne 🇺🇸🏳️‍🌈

Threads (1984) dir. Mick Jackson 🇬🇧

How to Get Ahead in Advertising (1989) dir. Bruce Robinson 🇬🇧

Salaam Bombay! (1988) dir. Mira Nair 🇮🇳

Romuald et Juliette (1989) dir. Coline Serreau 🇫🇷

And Life Goes On… /ㅤزندگی و دیگر هیچㅤ(1992) dir. Abbas Kiarostami 🇮🇷

Clean, Shaven (1993) dir. Lodge Kerrigan 🇺🇸

Wittgenstein (1993) dir. Derek Jarman 🇬🇧🏳️‍🌈

Butterfly Kiss (1995) dir. Michael Winterbottom 🇬🇧🏳️‍🌈

The Portrait of a Lady (1996) dir. Jane Campion 🇺🇸🇬🇧

Still Life / 三峡好人 (2006) dir. Jia Zhangke 🇨🇳

The Lives of Others / Das Leben der Anderen (2006) dir. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck 🇩🇪

Syndromes and a Century / แสงศตวรรษ (2006) dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul 🇹🇭

Lust, Caution / 色, 戒 (2007) dir. Ang Lee 🇺🇸🇨🇳🇹🇼

Liverpool (2008) dir. Lisandro Alonso 🇦🇷

The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister (2010) dir. James Kent 🇬🇧🏳️‍🌈

Tabu (2012) dir. Miguel Gomes 🇵🇹

No (2012) dir. Pablo Larraín 🇨🇱

The Blue Room / La Chambre bleue (2014) dir. Mathieu Amalric 🇫🇷

P'tit Quinquin (2014) dir. Bruno Dumont 🇫🇷

Still the Water / 2つ目の窓 (2014) dir. Naomi Kawase 🇯🇵

Paris 05:59: Théo & Hugo (2016) dir. Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau 🇫🇷🏳️‍🌈

The Breaking Ice / 燃冬 (2023) dir. Anthony Chen 🇨🇳🇸🇬

Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World / Nu aștepta prea mult de la sfârșitul lumii (2023) dir. Radu Jude 🇷🇴

Scrapper (2023) dir. Charlotte Regan 🇬🇧

Kneecap (2024) dir. Rich Peppiatt 🇮🇪

documentaries

Night and Fog / Nuit et brouillard (1956) dir. Alain Resnais 🇫🇷

Chronicle of a Summer / Chronique d'un été (1961) dir. Jean Rouch, Edgar Morin 🇫🇷

In the Rearview / Skąd dokąd / Звідки куди (2023) dir. Maciek Hamela 🇵🇱🇺🇦

Christopher Eccleston Remembers… Jude (BBC, 2024)

Mick Jackson Remembers… Threads (BBC, 2024)

Joan Bakewell Remembers… Bette Davis at the NFT (BBC, 2024)

television

Love in the Big City / 대도시의 사랑법 (2024) 🇰🇷🏳️‍🌈

Wolf Hall (2024) 🇬🇧

books

William S. Burroughs – Queer (1985) 🇺🇸🏳️‍🌈

Claire Keegan – Small Things Like These (2021) 🇮🇪

[koch-snowflake-blog]

真楪伶（まちゃりん）

女優、タレント。

1996年12月21日生まれ、台湾出身。2015年8月、＜AKB48 台湾オーディション＞の最終審査に合格し、同年12月にTOKYO DOME CITY HALLにてお披露目。2018年3月、AKB48の51枚目のシングル「ジャーバージャ」でシングル表題曲において初選抜、同シングル劇場盤にて秋元康書き下ろしのセンター曲「友達ができた」が収録される。同年7月、ドラマ『マジムリ学園』（日本テレビ）に出演。2021年12月、映画『サンタクロースをいつまで信じてた？』に出演（主演）。2022年2月、ドラマ『Mellow Love』に出演（主演）。同年11月、舞台＜メイドランカー！詰り蹴落とし跪け乙女＞に出演（W主演）。同年12月、芸能事務所『CANVAS』へ移籍。2023年4月、自身でデザインしたキャラクター・ぱみぃ発表。同年7月、『F i.n.t』公式アンバサダー＆特集ページモデルに就任。同年11月、AKB48からの卒業を発表。2024年2月、AKB48卒業、同時に芸名を本名の『馬嘉伶』から『真楪伶』（読み同じ）に改名。公式ファンクラブ開設。

　　

[princeloww]

The Real St. Judes: Gartloch Hospital - History (abridged)

The Scottish Lunacy Act of 1857 saw the creation of the Glasgow District Lunacy Board. The act, through these boards, aimed to establish and operate "district asylums", which would house patients unable to pay for the already existing "Royal Asylums".

In 1889, the Gartloch Estate was purchased by the City of Glasgow for approximately £8600 (~1 million today). The Glasgow District Lunacy Board were to turn it into an asylum for the mentally ill, and Gartloch Hospital would open in 1896.

In the early 1900s, a tuberculosis sanitorium was opened.

During World War II, Gartloch was temporarily transformed into an Emergency Medical Services Hospital; the psychiatric patients were transferred and housed in other hospitals. After the war, the tuberculosis sanitorium was shut.

Gartloch would fall into the hands of a different board (Board of Management for Glasgow North-Eastern Mental Hospitals), after joining the NHS in 1948.

Although there were 830 beds in 1904, by 1990 there were apparently only 530 - this being just under the amount available when it first opened.

In its last few years, Gartloch would fall under the Greater Glasgow Community and Mental Health Services NHS Trust. In 1996, the hospital officially closed, and was essentially abandoned, until 2003, when plans to turn Gartloch into a village began.

Now, there is a village, "Gartloch Village", surrounding the hospital. The main body, the iconic front we see in Donna Franceschild's TOTA, standing derelict and with boarded windows.

Oh, it's also apparently haunted, according to two nurses.

What was the hospital like?

I've nabbed these (like most of the other information - although I cross-referenced the rest (such as the years) from wikipedia and some other archives) from this article on hiddenglasgow.com.

I was born and lived at 2280 Gartloch Rd (East Cottages) of Gartloch Hospital. My Father, Bill Milne was the Bacteriologist at Gartloch Hospital Laboratory. My Mother was Helen and was the hospital hairdresser. My memories of Gartloch are the most wonderful memories ever. We had the most perfect childhood. The children of employees were involved in lots of differant ways. I remember especially the farm. Our house looked onto the busy fields and the Bishop Loch. We spent many happy summers pickinf tatties with the patients. And in the long cold winters, skating on the Bishop Loch. Christmad parties in the hospital involved all the staff, their children and patients. We got to know many of the patients who had been there most of their lives. Some had been admitted the the unit because of ''having a child out of wedlock'' I have so many stories to tell this page is not big enough! I would love to hear from anyone who remembers Gartloch or who lived/worked there.

Pattie Milne [04/02/2004]

I was talking with my gran t'other night about Gartloch (her maw died in there!) and she remembers these two women that used to walk about when she went visiting. One of them was about 4 foot nothing and the other about 6 foot. They walked up and down the hall, not saying a word to each other, but every now and then the taller one would repeatedly slap the little one on the head (that story seemed funnier when my gran told it!).

Crusty [30/01/2004]

There are a few more interesting stories on the linked article, so if you're interested, I recommend you check them out.

Finally: Takin' Over the Asylum (and other pop culture)

Takin' Over the Asylum aired on the 27th of September, 1994. The six-part drama was filmed in a disused wing of Gartloch, while the hospital was still open and functional. The hospital would close only 2 years after the airing of the show.

Gartloch's iconic, gothic towers would play a key role in the show, and be instantly recognisable to any viewer of TOTA.

Although it shut down in 1996, TOTA would not be the only media produced about the hospital. Wikipedia states that a film was produced in 2005, named (appropriately) "Gartloch Hospital", that covered the history of the hospital. This film went on to win an award in 2007, at the Scottish Mental Health Art and Film Festival, for "Best Factual Film".

Although hidden away, Gartloch hospital has an undeniably interesting history. Personal accounts from the hospital seem to paint it as a fun place, where patients and staff seemed to get along. Knowing the horrors of early mental health treatment, and the abuse many would suffer in these sort of places, we can only hope that these accounts are true and create an accurate image of life surrounding the hospital.

And I wrote all this because I really like David Tennant. Good night

Note the decorative peaks on the towers - they are absent from the rest of the photos. They were reportedly removed in the late 1930's.

SOURCES

Very interesting archive that goes into the history of Gartloch: (link) (source of above images)

Timeline and personal memories: (link)

Overview: Wikipedia (gartloch, Takin' Over the Asylum)

[gravedigginbbydoll]

pencil shavings and shared smiles {pt.1}

Fem! Teacher Reader x Teacher! Eddie

Masterlist Next

AN: Heyo! So I was watching Abbott Elementary and got sad, so there’s that. Hopefully, this will be a multiple-part thing but do not expect regular updates. I am a busy gal, lol. Also not heavily edited!

WARNINGS AND CONTENT: Minors DNI!!!, Noncanon, Hawkins AU, Normal Hawkins, Rumors about Eddie, Eventual Smut, Very fluffy, Outcasts and Bullying, Mentions of Loneliness, Flirting, Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, older! Eddie, short-haired Eddie, 1995/1996 Hawkins, F! Reader has a dark past, angst.

Summary: The last thing anyone expected Eddie Munson to do once he graduated was to go off to get an Education degree. Now he’s approaching 30 and the coolest music and drama teacher in Hawkins. Enter you, a new teacher at Hawkins Middle School. You moved to the little sleepy town of Hawkins from the city, hoping to give kids joy in learning while also settling into a calmer town. You meet Eddie while moving your stuff into your classroom, and he piques your interest. But people talk, and you can’t help but wonder…Is he the monster they claim he is?

You walk through the doors, arms heavy with the large box full of posters and decor for your classroom. You walk briskly through empty hallways, cursing yourself for not asking the nice older woman working the front desk for some assistance. Finally, you turn one of the labyrinth hallways into what should be your hall. English. You sigh out of relief. For such a small town and school, you felt as though the hallways went on forever. You’re about to turn into your room when you hear rambunctious laughter and shouting from a nearby hallway. Your curiosity is peaked. It’s late in the summer. Most teachers are here to set up, but some are home, enjoying the days before the school year starts. 

You scurry to put your box haphazardly in your classroom, the only one devoid of posters and books. You then walk as quietly as you can in your heels, the soft clicking against the tile almost silent with all the excitement in the classroom. Finally, finally, you reach a point where you can peek into the door, seeing the back of a man dressed in a dark flannel, the sleeves rolled up so you can see the tattoos littering his skin and rings on his hands, his nails painted a chipped black. His hair is wild and wavy, cut shorter on the sides and longer on top. He speaks animatedly to a group of young kids, all of them seemingly 13 or 14. They look at him with stars in their eyes, and it tugs at your heartstrings. 

“So upon the last blow by Lady Eda,” He gestures to the petite girl to his left, her hair in colorfully beaded twists, her shy grin with a mouthful of rainbow braces. The rest of the kids sit on the edge of their seats, awaiting the following words. “The mighty and powerful dark wizard is laid to rest!” The kids erupt in joy, shouting and jumping out of their chairs, a few members hugging the petite girl you assumed was ‘Lady Eda.’ The mysterious man clears his throat again, and the kids rush to their chairs and sit intently. “You are cheered on by the crowd of townspeople, all leading you to the tavern, where you sing and dance the night away. The town is now free of his evil. Congrats, heroes.” He speaks warmly in his raspy tone, the kids in front of him beaming and seeming to burst with joy. “And with that-” He puts down a folder and folds up some journals, “We finish the campaign.” He gets up, showing you the distressed and torn jeans and combat boots on his lower half. “Now get out of here, twerps. I’ll see you with the new fish soon. You can show them the ropes.” The excited chatter continues; the kids grab their bags and stuff their things in them. They all hurriedly leave the classroom, finally noticing you and seeming to tone their excitement, nodding a ‘hello ma’am’ to you, except for ‘Lady Eda.’ She sticks behind, enveloping the man in a tight hug as he chuckles and hugs her back, leaning down and gently telling her to enjoy the rest of her summer. She nods excitedly, running out the doors after her friends, barely noticing you. 

You peer out of the shadows, knocking on the door frame, seeing the man gather up his stuff and mutter at a volume so low you almost miss it, “Fucking Doyle.”

You furrow your brows and smile a bit, amused by the mystery of this man and his evident hatred for a teacher you knew was in your hallway. “I’m no Doyle, but it’s nice to get a feel for who I should avoid,” you joke, your tone light. 

The mystery man attempts to stand up quickly from his bent position of picking up things, hitting his head on the edge of a desk, “Oh- I- Shit!” 

You fight a smile, biting your lip at this man who’s quite a character. You expected mostly bored housewives and businessmen in Hawkins, but it was shaping up to shock you quite a bit. 

He carefully got up this time, holding a hand against his head and spinning on his heel. His big brown doe eyes and a slight smattering of freckles make your heart jump a bit. He had smile lines and a shy smile, his facial hair short and scruffy. You feel your cheeks heat. Fuck. You didn’t expect a young man around your age who was so damn attractive at Hawkins Middle School, of all places. 

His face broke out into a shy crooked grin as he walked towards you, a hand held out towards you. “Hi. I’m Eddie Munson. You can just call me Eddie. I teach music and drama. I also run the DnD club here- that’s what the kiddos were doing here.” 

You shake his hand gently, feeling the calloused fingertips against your palms. “Hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. You can call me Y/N. I’m teaching English. I’m down that way,” you point back towards your hallway. 

He nods, smiling, removing his hand from yours gently. “Well, nice to see someone younger than the dinosaurs in that hallway.” 

You snort, feeling heat creep across your skin immediately and covering your mouth. “Sorry- Is it really that bad?” 

He nods, and his face molds into a false sorrow and pity expression. “I heard that Mrs. Winnow was around at the birth of Christ.” 

You snort again, another laugh bursting as you smile at Eddie. “You’d think with that kind of life, she’d be teaching history, wouldn’t you?” 

Eddie grins devilishly, shaking his head. “Nah, she’d immediately make all the other teachers obsolete. They need their jobs.” 

You grin, your heart pattering with joy at the young coworker. You were glad to find someone in a similar age range. So far, you only met your neighbors in your rundown apartment, who were around 40, and a few coworkers, who were above 50. 

Eddie cocks his head at you, leaning against the doorway, his arms crossing his chest, covering his distressed Metallica concert shirt. “So, you’re new to Hawkins, huh?”

You laugh humorlessly, sighing, looking up at him. “That obvious, huh?”

He smiles softly, an expression reading I’m sorry. “Eh, most of us grew up here. It’s not a town that people are really flocking to. So what brings you here?”

You fiddle with a loose thread on your blouse, biting your lip. You don’t want to say too much, so you shrug and smile. “I wanted some change from the big city. So I closed my eyes, spun around, and pointed at a map. Lo and behold, fate decided Hawkins.” 

He nods and still has a crooked smile as he turns, grabbing up his messenger bag full of items you assumed he used for the campaign. “Well, let me know if you want to meet some living humans, not fossils. I have a few friends here, and none are quite at retirement age yet.” He grabs a piece of paper he had about, jotting on it quickly, then handing you the parchment, smiling. “My number. In case you want to take me up on the offer.” 

You pocket the number, looking up to thank him. You look up, and his back is turned toward you as he exits the school, lifting his hand and waving while calling over his shoulder, “Bye, city girl! Good luck with the fossils.” 

You fight a smile as you walk back to your classroom, your fingers brushing the parchment in your pants pocket. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once you set up your classroom, sweat dripping down your forehead, you realize you have no books for your bookshelf. You frown, biting your lip. The classroom looked terrific, with posters for books you felt were classics and a few inspirational ones. With soft lamps and lights along with the desks arranged, you should be satisfied. You curse yourself, knowing a teacher’s salary is not enough to splurge on books, but you can’t help but hate how only the textbooks are on the shelf. You head out of the school, determined to get more leisure reading books for your future students. 

You head to a local bookstore, fondly named ‘Hit the Books.’ An older man with small glasses is behind the counter explaining to a very disinterested edgy teen how to use the register. You look at the expansive store, surprised how it could stay open in such a small town with so few customers. Next, you head over to the Young Adult and Children’s section. You grab a few books, holding them in your arms as you walk from aisle to aisle. Eventually, your stacked up to your chin with books, struggling to hold them. You hear a chuckle behind you and cautiously turn, waddling like a penguin to avoid spilling novels everywhere. 

There stands Eddie, his grin clear as day. He’s missing his flannel, now just in a short sleeve, his tattoos in full view and adding to his grungy look. “You need help? It seems like you’re carrying a library there.” 

You feel heat travel across your skin and shake your head, backing up a little, “I got it-” You almost trip, Eddie catching you by your shoulder, and his eyes twinkle with amusement. 

“I think I’ll help anyway,” He grabs half of the stack of books, his own at the bottom. You spot ‘Merlin’s Woods,’ a book you recognized as one that had been among the fantasy books for teens and children. You fight a bit of a smile at this, Eddie helping you to the register. The young teen girl lights up at his appearance, her thick black eyeliner exaggerated by her wide blue eyes. The older man, however, looks on in a bit of disdain, making you frown slightly.  

“Mr. Munson! How’s it going?” The young girl asks, clearly more alert than before, ringing up your books along with Eddie’s. You’re about to interrupt her and let her know you’ll pay for your own when Eddie squeezes your hand without looking at you, smiling and catching up with the girl. Eddie then looks at you after paying, a smile on his lips. 

“Do you need help lugging out this library to the car-”

The older man, still gruffly bothered by Eddie’s presence, shoves a box in the young girl’s arms and hands Eddie his book. “Don’t worry, Mr. Munson; Julia can handle it.”

The young teen Julia looks at the older man in protest, her brows furrowed. “Mr. Munn, I’m supposed to work the -” 

He cuts her off, holding up a hand. “Shush. Go help the missus with her books.” 

She groans, mumbling as she stacks the books in the box. You look to Eddie, his smile faltering as he looks at you, holding his book. Something tells you the bookstore worker does not like Eddie. Something else tells you that Eddie knows. You open your mouth to say something before Eddie clears his throat, glancing at Mr. Munn. 

“I guess I better head out. I’ll see you around,” He says softly, smiling at you gently before turning and quickly jogging to a motorbike outside. You watch him sling a leg over the bike and drive away, feeling a twinge of hurt and sadness. It may not have been your fault, but you couldn’t help but feel for Eddie. 

“Careful with who you surround yourself, Miss. That Munson boy is trouble. He may have straightened out a bit since heading to college, but he is still a bit delinquent. Be careful,” The old man gruffly tells you, pointed looking at you over his glasses. “You look like a nice girl.” You feel your skin prickle with disdain and heat travel from the back of your neck across your chest. Nice girl. You hate that phrase. It meant docile. Obedient. You ignored the older man’s stare, turning towards Julia. 

“C’mon, my car is out here.” You lead the young disgruntled teen toward your modest, rundown car, opening the trunk. She huffs as she places the box in the back, clearly heavy for her small frame. You close the trunk and turn towards her, about to utter a thank you, when she stares hard at the floor and kicks a small pebble before sighing. 

“Mr. Munson isn’t a bad guy. Just so you know,” she softly says, looking up at you, her big eyes full of sincerity. 

You nod and smile softly, “I figured. But do you mind me asking why Mr. Munn is so set against him?” You tilt your head at her, and she huffs out a breath, annoyance at the older man clear across her face. 

“Some dumb old rumors the geezer still believes from the ’80s. Mr. Munson was the town’s troublemaker and outcast. There are a lot of crazy rumors about him. I don’t think they’re true, but he never tries to disprove them. He came back to help outcasts feel safe at school. Give them a teacher to trust,” The young girl’s voice is thick with emotion, and you can picture she was one of the outcasts Eddie helped. It pulls at your heartstrings. 

“Well, thank you, Julia. I appreciate your help. And don’t worry, I won’t listen to the rumors,” You playfully wink at the girl as she weakly smiles and waves goodbye before retreating into the small shop. 

You climb into your car, starting up the engine as you bite your lip and wonder… 

Who really is Eddie Munson?

[daenysthedreamer101]

Youngest Original ~ TVDU

Mikaelson!OC

Masterlist

Ch1

Being a teenage girl isn't easy. Especially if you've been 18 for over a thousand years.

Follow the immortal life of Kassandra Mikaelson, a member of the Mikaelson family and one of the Originals.

She has been navigating the complicated world of the supernatural for centuries.

How will she hold up against a certain doppelganger and her group of friends?

How will she adjust to the 21st century after being in a casket for almost two decades?

Will she forgive Klaus for his betrayal or will she turn her back on him?

Is blood really thicker than water?

Prologue

April 7th, 1996 - Easter Day

The sun was just coming out and Kassandra paced around the hall, excitingly waiting for her chauffeur to arrive and drive her to her lake house. She busied herself with checking if all of her luggage was ready - it was.

After another 10 minutes of waiting, she could see and hear a black car pulling up her driveway. "There he is!" she muttered as she picked up her suitcase, her bag, and her keys. She opened the door and a gentle breeze rustled her dark hair.

She locked her house and walked toward the trunk of the car. To her surprise, Antonio, her chauffeur, didn't come out of the car. Usually, he would help her with the luggage. After putting her suitcase inside, she closed the trunk and walked to the passenger seat.

Settling into her car, Kassandra expected to find her private driver awaiting her, ready to whisk her away to the sanctuary of her lakeside retreat. But as she entered the vehicle, she was met instead with a face she hadn't seen in decades.

"Hello, love. Long time no see." Klaus greeted, his words dripping with false warmth. Kassandra's heart sank at the sight of him, her instincts warning her of the trouble that lay ahead.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice betraying her unease as Klaus started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

"Visiting my little sister, of course," Klaus replied, his tone laced with mock concern. "I wouldn't want you spending the holidays all alone, would I?"

The words sent a chill down Kassandra's spine, a sense of foreboding settling over her like a dark cloud. Despite her best efforts to evade him, it seemed that Klaus had other plans for her Easter holiday, plans that she knew would not end well for her.

"I want you to come back to the US with me," Klaus said in a demanding voice as they exited the city of Geneva.

"And why would I do that?" she challenged, her voice laced with defiance as she met Klaus's gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his manipulative tactics.

But Klaus, ever the master of manipulation, remained unfazed by her resistance, his expression shifting to one of faux vulnerability as he sought to twist the situation to his advantage.

"I've been feeling quite lonely if I'm being honest," he confessed, his words tinged with a hint of desperation. "I haven't seen any of my siblings in decades. Who better to keep me company than my favorite little sister?"

The words struck a nerve with Kassandra, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within her. On one hand, she longed for the connection and companionship that only her siblings could provide. But on the other, she knew all too well the price that would come with reuniting with Klaus.

"You can easily undagger any one of our siblings. But you won't do that," she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness as she laid bare the truth that Klaus had been so desperate to conceal.

"Because you're scared to face them. And you came to me thinking that I would welcome you back with open arms. That's where you're wrong."

Her words hung in the air, a damning indictment of Klaus's cowardice and manipulation, a testament to the strength and resilience that had sustained her in the face of his tyranny.

"Now, now little dove. I can see you're upset. Calm down," Klaus admonished, his words dripping with false concern as he attempted to assert his dominance over her with the same tone that parents used on misbehaving children.

Kassandra's anger simmered beneath the surface as Klaus attempted to placate her with patronizing words and a tone that grated against her nerves like sandpaper. The condescension in his voice only served to fuel the flames of her indignation, her frustration mounting with each passing moment.

As they continued to drive, Kassandra's unease only grew, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach as she contemplated the ominous implications of Klaus's unexpected visit. With each passing mile, her sense of foreboding deepened, her instincts warning her of the danger that could strike at any moment.

They finally arrived at her little lake house. It was more of a cottage, really. It was situated on the shore of Lake Geneva. She got out of the car, her lungs begging for fresh air. The crisp morning air hit her skin, but she welcomed it.

"Please leave me alone." She begged, her voice filled with desperation. She started walking toward to dock, forgetting all about her luggage. All she wanted was to put some distance between herself and her wicked older brother. But he followed her like a shadow.

"Isn't that what I've been doing for the past 50 years?" Klaus's voice cut through the silence, his words dripping with contempt as he mocked her plea for peace. Kassandra clenched her fists at her sides, her frustration boiling over as she struggled to maintain her composure in the face of his relentless antagonism.

She turned away from him, her blue eyes fixed on the glowing water before her, its shimmering surface a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within her heart. Despite her best efforts to find solace in the tranquil beauty of her surroundings, she knew that Klaus's presence would forever taint the serenity of her sanctuary.

As they stood together on the dock, the silence between them stretched on, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. Kassandra felt a sense of resignation wash over her, a weary acceptance of the fact that she could never truly escape the bonds that tethered her to her tumultuous family.

Her long brown curls shined in the morning sun, her heeled boots clicking along the dock as she paced nervously. She looked up to see a beautiful, clear sky. The bright sunlight washed over her, and she could feel its warmth sinking into her skin.

"I think it is time you are reunited with the rest of our siblings, don't you think, sweet sister?" He whispered darkly in her ear, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Her brows furrowed, not at his words but at the tone of his voice. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, his blue eyes burning with an intensity that made her skin crawl. She turned around, only to see a smirk on his face that meant only one thing - trouble.

"Klaus, what are you-"

Before she could properly respond, before she could even comprehend the full extent of his treachery, Klaus's hand lashed out with lightning speed, plunging the silver dagger coated in the ash of the White Oak tree deep into her heart with a swift, merciless thrust.

Pain exploded within her, searing through her veins like fire as she gasped for breath, her world spinning out of control. She could feel her life force draining away, her limbs growing heavy and numb as darkness closed in around her.

With one final, desperate gasp, Kassandra looked up at Klaus, her eyes filled with a mixture of betrayal and disbelief. "Traitor!" she spat, her voice barely a whisper as the darkness consumed her, swallowing her whole.

For almost 15 years, Kassandra would languish in the depths of her dreamless slumber, her consciousness trapped in a realm of endless darkness, her existence suspended in a timeless void.

***

Keep in mind this is my first fic ever and I'm mostly writing for myself lol. Also English isn't my first language and I'm not a professional writer, I'm doing this for my own enjoyment but hopefully other people can find enjoyment in it.

Thanks for reading and if you have any thoughts feel free to comment. ☺💓

[pinkfloyd-musicartnaturelove]

January 17, 1996 - Backstage at The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York City for 11th Annual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony and Concert.

Roger Waters and Syd Barrett were recognized in Pink Floyd's induction. Present were David Gilmour, Richard Wright, and Nick Mason.

[snapeaddict]

Snapetober Day 11 - Water

There was, in Cokeworth, an old well: it was said to be a thousand feet deep and a thousand years old, and to have been sealed when a child had almost fallen in it, many many years ago. It was closed with a heavy wooden lid, itself now suspiciously ancient-looking, and that lid was pierced in one place where there had been a knot in the wood. The little hole was round, and big enough for stones and coins to be thrown into the void: it had become a tradition in its own right.

One day, two small children, about ten years old, came to the well. The boy had dark hair, the girl was a flamboyant ginger: one after the other, they put a coin in the hole and made a wish. They waited a long time for the coins to hit the water, for a sound, even a slight echo, to come back to them. But the well swallowed the money in complete silence.

The boy's wish was: may Lily believe me. The girl's wish was: may Severus never lie.

-

At thirteen years old, Severus, flat on his stomach and holding a torch, attempted to look at the bottom of the well. But the light did nothing: it lost its way in the darkness just like it when pointed at the sky, at night.

He threw another coin, and wished for a real family. Lily wished for Petunia to like her again.

Two coins, no sound.

-

At fourteen, Severus wished for protection, and so did Lily.

-

At fifteen, Severus came alone and sat on the dirty ground, keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. He sat there a long time, looking at the hole with a cold fury that often gave way to sickening despair.

In a fit of rage, only visible from the outside by the trembling of his hands, he took a handful of mud and plugged the hole.

On the morrow, however, it was unsealed, and he wondered what Lily had wished for.

-

He did not come back until he was 21, and that day he wished to be dead.

-

From ages 31 to 37, he wished, although with heavy irony and a mental sneer, for quiet years. He came back every summer to grumble about Potter's latest suicide mission and, while doing so, cleared the place of overgrown weeds with a flicker of his wand. People in Cokeworth thought he had a green thumb.

-

In 1996, he wished for Albus to stay.

-

At some point in the summer of 1997, a silhouette appeared at dusk and stayed immobile in front of the well for a long time. The weeds were granted the right to live.

-

In the summer of 1998, the city hall finally decided to renovate this part of town, and initiated large-scale construction works. A team of five men was sent to unseal the well and draft a report on how it could be permanently plugged. In substance, the question was to know if there would be a need to drain water out of it.

They were quite surprised to discover that the well's bottom, full of mud and stones, was completely dry: the foundation contractor declared that there hadn't been water in there for the last 50 years.

[mervynbunter]

At the same time, in Dracula the past extends across space into those zones of arrested development which modernity has not fully reached, where the train do not yet run on schedule or where the railway lines have come to an abrupt halt. Though no further from home than a rural Hampstead churchyard, it can be profoundly “humanising” to gaze upon the lights of London and to hear “the muffled roar the marks the life of a great city,” despite the knowledge that the capital is simultaneously a site of depravity and danger. For the routes of communication out of the metropolis may also bring terrifyingly archaic elements back into it, as in that eerie moment when Count Dracula is seen hailing a hansom cab near Hyde Park or when, in The Jewel of the Seven Stars (1903), the presence of an ancient Egyptian mummy in a house in Notting Hill begins to have strange effects upon everyone who comes into contact with it. Such frightful encounters are imagined as tests of character in Stoker’s supernatural romances, moments of truth that will purge the self of its secret weaknesses, ascertaining a person’s intrinsic worth in the face of a plethora of social and psychic complications and providing a center of stability in a dangerous world of flux. Hall Cain, the novelist and dedicatee of Dracula, once defended the genre of romance as a type of writing that shows “what brave things human nature is capable of at its best.” But in Stoker’s work, the protagonists are forced to confront their worst, before they can really know what their best might be.

David Glover, Vampires, Mummies, and Liberals: Bram Stoker and the Politics of Popular Fiction (1996)

[justforbooks]

Wynton Learson Marsalis (born October 18, 1961) is an American trumpeter, composer, and music instructor, who is currently the artistic director of Jazz at Lincoln Center. He has been active in promoting classical and jazz music, often to young audiences. Marsalis has won nine Grammy Awards, and his oratorio Blood on the Fields was the first jazz composition to win the Pulitzer Prize for Music. Marsalis is the only musician to have won a Grammy Award in both jazz and classical categories in the same year.

In 1983, at the age of 22, he became the only musician to win Grammy Awards in jazz and classical music during the same year. At the award ceremonies the next year, he won again in both categories.

After his first album came out in 1982, Marsalis won polls in DownBeat magazine for Musician of the Year, Best Trumpeter, and Album of the Year. In 2017, he was one of the youngest members to be inducted into the DownBeat Hall of Fame.

In 1997, he became the first jazz musician to win the Pulitzer Prize for Music for his oratorio Blood on the Fields. In a note to him, Zarin Mehta wrote, "I was not surprised at your winning the Pulitzer Prize for Blood on the Fields. It is a broad, beautifully painted canvas that impresses and inspires. It speaks to us all...I'm sure that, somewhere in the firmament, Buddy Bolden, Louis Armstrong and legions of others are smiling down on you."

Wynton Marsalis has won the National Medal of Arts, the National Humanities Medal, and been named an NEA Jazz Master. In 2001, he was also named a UN Messenger of Peace.

Approximately seven million copies of his recordings have been sold worldwide. He has toured in 30 countries and on every continent except Antarctica.

He was given the Louis Armstrong Memorial Medal and the Algur H. Meadows Award for Excellence in the Arts. He was inducted into the American Academy of Achievement and was dubbed an Honorary Dreamer by the I Have a Dream Foundation. The New York Urban League awarded Marsalis the Frederick Douglass Medallion for distinguished leadership. The American Arts Council presented him with the Arts Education Award.

He won the Dutch Edison Award and the French Grand Prix du Disque. The Mayor of Vitoria, Spain, gave him the city's gold medal, its most coveted distinction. In 1996, Britain's senior conservatoire, the Royal Academy of Music, made him an honorary member, the academy's highest decoration for a non-British citizen. The city of Marciac, France, erected a bronze statue in his honor for the key role he played in the story of the festival. The French Ministry of Culture gave him the rank of Knight in the Order of Arts and Literature. In 2008, he received France's highest distinction, the insignia Chevalier of the Legion of Honour. In 2023, he won the Praemium Imperiale.

He has received honorary degrees from the Frost School of Music at the University of Miami (1994), University of Scranton (1996), Kenyon College (2019), New York University, Columbia, Connecticut College, Harvard, Howard, Northwestern, Princeton, Vermont, the State University of New York, and the University of Michigan (2023).

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[bestfrozentreats2]

"Born 11 September 1935, New York State Died 8 December 1996, Maryland

Ben Hewitt made four fine records for Mercury Records in the late fifties, then disappeared from view until he was tracked down, in 1983, by Colin Escott and Hank Davis, who were in the process of compiling a Bear Family LP of Ben's recordings. He is sometimes described as a Canadian artist, but though he did live close to the Canadian border for much of his life, he was in fact a US citizen.

Hewitt was born in 1935 in a one-room, dirt-floor log cabin on the Tuscarora Indian Reservation in New York State. He wanted a guitar from the time he was nine or ten and kept bugging his father who finally broke down when Ben was about 12 and bought him a ukelele. About a year later, he got his first guitar, a $12.50 Stella. Influenced by Elvis and Sun Records, Ben started performing in bars. For over 13 years he played at DeFazio's in Niagara Falls, NY. It was there that Hewitt was approached by one Julian Langford. Hewitt told Escott and Davis: "He looked exactly like Colonel Tom Parker. He was up from Florida working in construction. He asked us what we'd charge to do some demos for him. He thought of himself as a songwriter, but he had the same tune to everything. The lyrics were nothing to write home about either. He'd come to us week after week and sing us the latest song he'd written. For the hell of it, we said, ' We'll do it on one condition. You supply the booze. Plus you gotta pay 20 bucks apiece and rent the hall'. "

It was this Julian Langford who secured Hewitt a recording contract with Mercury in 1958. The sessions were held in New York City and produced by Clyde Otis. Four singles were released, 1959-60. Clyde Otis didn't want Langford's material (except for "Whirlwind Blues"), most of the Mercury sides are Ben's own compositions. Otis himself also contributed a song, co-written with Brook Benton, "I Ain't Givin' Up Nothin' (If I Can't Have Something From You)". Hewitt's version of this song is the original one ; there were later versions by Clyde McPhatter and Jimmy "Frenchy" Dee, with Mickey Gilley on piano.

Ben's records did not sell particularly well, but enough to secure him plenty of bookings through the Shaw Agency, where he was the only white artist. Ben soon got tired of touring and after a nasty incident with Julian Langford, which hurt his (Ben's) reputation at Mercury, he lost interest in making records. He did not record again until 1975, when he cut a country single ("Border City Call Girl") for Broadland Records in Toronto, which was leased to Shelby Singleton's Plantation label."

Ben Hewitt - My Search https://youtu.be/dJp9WLfGDMc