#david aron

[warhead]

[nyehhh-hh]

@.sepangcircuit: Welcome back champions @.motogp 🇲🇾 What an epic Beca Race! 😜

Feel the exhilaration of the #MalaysianGP at the PETRONAS Sepang International Circuit from 1 to 3 November 2024! 🏁Let’s #KasiGegar! 🔥

[game-set-canet]

(via Instagram (Story 24.03.2024) @ davidsanchis10)

[nymsnewestobessions]

5 more freaking deaths!!!

[lxndonorris]

[aronlewes]

Another book, another cast. I present, A Crew of Criminals and Cutthroats: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTS5MJLW

For as long as I’ve been writing (which, let’s face it, is a lot of years) I’ve chosen actors to represent the characters in my stories. Of course, this book was no different.

I consider Davin (David Strathairn) to be the main character of this one. It’s the first time I’ve had a main character in his 70′s. Incarcerated for nearly 30 years, Davin is released from jail and forced to join a mercenary group, the titular Crew of Criminals. 

Also in the crew is Ewen, inspired by Owen Teague. Seriously, Owen Teague has inspired more characters than any other actor. I did a tally the other day, for real, and he won. He’s a damn good actor and a damn good muse. Owen will be mega famous one day, mark my words. 

I’m also going to mention Jean-René, who was Regé-Jean Page in my little old head. I’d just watched Bridgerton when I wrote this book, and it was easy to imagine Regé-Jean as a guy who seduced a queen.

I REALLY wanted to find a Lady Sefonie as well, but I honestly couldn’t think of a single actress in her 50′s who looked cool enough or rough enough to be her. I felt the same way about Hilda in The Darker Ages. Oh well.

[thebutcher-5]

Shrek 2

Benvenuti o bentornati sul nostro blog. Nello scorso articolo abbiamo ripreso a parlare di pellicole tratte dalle opere di Stephen King e allo stesso tempo abbiamo anche discusso di un regista che amo molto, George A. Romero. Il film in questione è La metà oscura. Thad Beaumont è uno scrittore da tutti conosciuto con lo pseudonimo di George Stark e pubblica principalmente libri molto violenti che…

[sinceileftyoublog]

Protomartyr & Stuck Live Show Review: 7/13, Thalia Hall, Chicago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“Tap calls the time,” Joe Casey sang last Thursday at Thalia Hall as Protomartyr performed “Elimination Dances”, a standout track from their new album Formal Growth in the Desert (Domino). Like many of the band’s best songs, its inspirations are obscure, this particular instance taken from a game in a 50′s dance manual: Once you’re tapped out, you stop. Given the Detroit punk band’s generally bleak nature, it’s not hard to find the referenced game a fitting metaphor our everyday life, trying to survive in a capitalist hell world. But consider that Formal Growth was written in the context of the death of Casey’s mother, recorded in an actual desert at Sonic Ranch in Tornillo, TX with producer Jake Aron. Casey didn’t aim to create something or find meaning out of emptiness, per se, but answer the question, “Once tap calls the time, how do the rest of us move on?” Luckily for him, and for us, there’s music.

I’ve seen Protomartyr a bunch of times. I never would have thought to describe one of their shows as life-affirming, but Thursday’s was, from the younger segment of the crowd’s persistent moshing to the unexpectedly anthemic quality of the band’s performance. The live version of Formal Desert opener "Make Way” traded the studio version’s openness for a much mightier, choppier stomp. The crowd reframed the anxiety-riddled namesake refrain of Relatives in Descent chugger “The Chuckler”--“I guess I’ll keep on chucklin’ till there’s no more breath in my lungs”--as an absurdist call to arms. The normally stoic Casey performed the entirety of The Agent Intellect’s “Why Does It Shake?” on the barrier between the stage and the crowd, about as close to spirited as he’ll ever be. Even the band’s chosen setlist seemed authored specifically to amp up the crowd. I mean, they could have played “Let’s Tip The Creator”, which chides the way tech billionaires treat art as a commodity, just as much of a charged bummer as the rest, but its subdued timbres are harder to dance to. Protomartyr’s instead taking the Gang of Four route, favoring, say, the skittering drums of “Fun in Hi Skool”. 

As this was the last show of the tour, Casey joked, “We’ll either be so tight, it will be the best show of our lives, or so tired it’ll be the shittiest.” Guitarist Greg Ahee, bassist Scott Davidson, and drummer Alex Leonard at least made sure it wasn’t the latter, of course. But it was the addition of The Breeders’ Kelley Deal as a full-time touring member of the band that elevated older songs even more than it provided faithful renditions of those whose studio versions she was on. Her voice subbed for the “I have arrived” echo on Under Color of Official Right’s “Maidenhead”, and her backing harmonies beautifully contrasted the ugliness of “Pontiac 87″. And her guitar tones on "Polacrilex Kid” seemed lifted straight from the Hawaiian twang of Last Splash’s “No Aloha”, an inspired replacement for the studio version’s pedal steel. Casey clearly remains eternally thankful. He once said in an interview with NPR, “Basically, the band comes up with amazing music and it's my job to not screw it up too much.” It’s all I could think about as I watched him sip from a Budweiser can, nodding like he was impressed while watching Leonard hammer away during the extended intro of “Jumbo’s”. If he sings on “The Author”, “Time's your enemy / Every gift you see will be taken for sure,” live, he demonstrates the unspoken flipside: Enjoy the gifts while you can.

Local post-punk band Stuck, who I saw open for Metz last winter, was the perfect primer for Protomartyr. They, too, sing about the effects of the decline of America, albeit with a nervy, wiry yelp that recalls bands like Devo and Squid. Lead singer Greg Obis was quick to point out how honored the band was to open for Protomartyr, one of his favorites. It’s easy to see the influence on their new album Freak Frequency (born yesterday). A track like “Fools Idol”, its descriptions of “violence unending” and “the boss descending,” is very Casey-esque in its brand proclamations. And like Protomartyr now, Stuck is that much more loud and urgent live, foregoing, for instance, the studio acoustic instrumentation of “Scared” for all electric jitters. However, unlike those of the perennially offline Casey, Stuck’s songs are riddled with technology-induced worries. At Thalia Hall, drummer Tim Green’s disorienting use of sample pads was an effective mirror for Obis’ admission he’s “distracted all over again” on “Loose Your Cool”. Green’s motorik drums and Obis’ and Ezra Saulnier’s sharp guitarwork reflected the pain of similar cycles of smartphone despair on “Time Out”. The almost hilariously plodding pace of “Planet Money” made a circus out of the song’s targets, the pundits who comment on the health of the economy as if it truly affects the everyday life of our most vulnerable. And then there was set closer “The Punisher”, the only song that saw Obis sing harmonically, sans paranoid screams. On the track, he deftly summarizes the absurdity of the January 6th insurrection, facetiously winking and nodding, “The future never looked so bright.” Even if the world that Protomartyr and Stuck envelop does everything in its power to suggest otherwise, upon leaving Thalia Hall on Thursday, you could, perhaps, agree.

[jellyfishsthings]

Nerves and Stolen Kisses

I have been toying with the idea of writing a fic about him for quite sometime and after last weekend I just had to. Estelle ( Ollie's rumoured gf is mentioned here but it is a fake relationship for PR reasons.) Also Paul Aron has a gf... friends to lovers trope.

Shoutout to @httpiastri for the inspiration

The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was fast approaching. And Ollie was a jumble of nerves and excitement as usual. Since the early hour of the day, he opened the curtains letting the sun into the room and you groaned into the pillow.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us.”

“No, you do. I don't know why I came.”

“Because I am your bestest friend and I paid for your ticket and let you stay with me.”

“Both of which are for your benefit.”

“Come on….”

“Fine.” You say with a dejected sigh as you get up and you both get ready for the day. David, Ollie's dad was already waiting for you and you headed towards the paddock.

Everything was a frenzy and was passing by so quickly. As Ollie got into the garage and got ready for the quali you headed towards the stands trying to find Cassie, Paul's long-term girlfriend. Throughout the years you have formed a unique friendship. She was the only one who knew about your crush on Ollie and she teased you endlessly about it. Ollie and you had been best friends for the better part of your life, joint to the hip, having endless sleepovers, even if Dad didn't approve.

It was an endless nightmare being close enough to get a taste of all the what ifs, but never experiencing them.

“Do you and your lover boy share a room, huh?”

“It's not like that and you know it, Cassandra.”

“Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?”

“So much. You have no idea. Yesterday I couldn't sleep and as the hours passed, he came closer and closer. He ended up holding me in his sleep. And I felt so bad because of Estelle. I know that they aren't really together and it's for PR, but still, I feel awful because technically I am the other woman… and she is just so nice and sweet. Never overstepping, I think she knows.”

We both stay quiet after that as the session continues.

“You know… whatever the case. You both love each other, platonically or not.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say as I watch the times set by all the drivers, Ollie having the fastest one yet.

“Looks like your man is on pole.”

We both make our way through the paddock, trying to pass the roaring sea of fans and we hand out already-signed autographs to anyone who asks for them. When we finally arrive, we part ways, before making promises about having dinner together at a restaurant Cassie wanted to try. And I head towards the Prema garage finding two beaming Bearmans, hugging.

“Hey Bear. Did you drive fast enough?” You call at him. And he grins like an idiot before swooping you into a tight hug spinning you. His laughter echoes in your ears as he sets you down.

“Yeah I drove fast enough, you minx.”

“Good. Now let's go. We are having dinner with Paul and Cassie in four hours and I want to see the city.”

“Give me five minutes to change and we are good to go.”

The afternoon is spent visiting local stores, trying to communicate in scrappy English and making terrible puns with products or street names. When they finally head to the restaurant their sides hurt from laughing. Dinner passed by as quickly as it came. As everyone says, time flies by when you are with the people you love.

Just as they open the door for their hotel room, Ollie flops in the bed as you head towards your computer and open it as hoards of emails and messages appear on the screen. Great more deadlines and essays to write until the end of the week.

“Leave it. We can pretend that we have nothing to do and watch a movie or local TV and try to understand what the hell is going on.”

“Thanks Bear. But I can't, as tempting as your offer is. Go to sleep, I will join you soon.”

And so you sit in front of your computer, ending essay after essay, sending them on time, until your eyes hurt from the pale blue light. The bed seems more welcoming than ever before as Ollie starfishes the entire length of it and his soft snores fill the empty space. Yeah, maybe it's time to call it a day.

An awful sound echoes in the room and eventually wakes you.

“I swear if it's one more ad I will jump from the window.” You grumble into your pillow as you steal the blankets and turn yourself into a burrito.

Ollie hisses as he opens his phone only to find a ton of messages and many missed calls from Ferrari. He dials Fred back as he moves towards the bathroom, trying to let you steal a few more minutes of much needed sleep.

When he emerges back in the room he sits down in front of you, his back supported on the bed.

“Ols, what's going on?”

“Carlos has an appendix”

“Oh no. Is he having surgery?”

“Yeah.” He says softly. “They want me to replace him.”

“What?” At that you are fully awake. Your hair is a netted nest and you look at him in shock. He looks at you, you his best friend who would look like a mess to anyone else but to him you look like the most beautiful and amazing creature in the world. Your mere presence has a more calming effect on him than anything else. If it weren't for you, he would have already lost his mind. “How? When? I…”

“We need to get to the paddock, if I don't want to miss FP3. I will wake up Dad and break the news to him.”

Soon after you enter the paddock and thousands of reporters try to get a better look at Ollie, flashing their cameras at you and bombarding you with questions as you make your way to the Ferrari garage and mechanics steal Ollie from you and David as they set to work quickly. David looks pale and sick as he paces into the garage trying to control his nerves through the FP3 and the Quali. When Ollie finally got off the car when he scored the 11th place, missing Q2 only by 3 hundreds of a second, you knew that this was it. He was finally shining like the bright star he was. He had done more than enough, his raw talent showing with barely one hour to get used to the car. And as mechanics and reporters closed around him. You couldn't help but feel like you didn't belong here. Where did you fit in? The reality hit you and it hit you hard. You hid in the back corners of the garage, eyes glued to the screen as everyone passed by without acknowledging you. You would happily hide in the shadows where he shined but this world wasn't meant for you. The anxiety was picking up at you, eating you alive from the inside.

And when Ollie got too close to the wall, your heart stopped beating. He was driving a car that was twice as fast and twice as dangerous than his normal F2 car. It was too much. The sound, the danger, everything really. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and you needed a way out. As you hide behind the garage you call the one person who could understand. Terri picks up in the second ring her soft voice already calming you.

“Hey love. Is everything alright?”

“How do you do it? How can you stand back and do nothing?”

“You love him, don't you sweetheart?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Well … no I always hoped but… whatever the case, to answer your question you simply do it, you just have to. A driver needs his support system and you are it for him. You are his forever person, whether that is romantically or not. He needs to be near you and as much nervous as you are, so is he. Without you he would be lost, believe me I know my son. And I can bet you that as much as your heart breaks right now, you are also immensely proud.”

“Of course I am. But where do I fit in, in this world.”

“Right beside him, love.”

“Thanks Terri. Please call David. I think he is losing his mind and he is sick with worry.” You say chuckling before saying your goodbyes and head back towards the garage. The session is already over and Ollie is nowhere in sight.

Ollie plays with the power button of his phone trying to calm down but to no avail. The lock screen is a photo of the two of you. It was last summer both your skins flushed and hair slightly wet and tangled. You both smile at the camera and your eyes look bright with happiness. He feels slightly lighter but he knows that there is an impending panic attack and so he turns to the one person who could help him in this situation.

"I got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "How are you doing?”

Ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. His eyes are stuck on the floor, his silence is defeaning. When he still doesn't answer, your heart rate picks up. Is something really wrong?

You make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before. Not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year, not when he was cheated out from the Formula 3 championship. Once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"Ollie, talk to me," you plead, holding back the tears that starts to form on your eyes and threatento spill. It's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. Not now, not when he needs you this much.

"I'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I'm so nervous, I don't know what to do."

It's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. Ollie, your usually so calm and collected best friend is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. He is a messy jumble of nerves.

"I get that. One hundred per cent. But.." your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "This is your dream. It's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance.”

"And it's not just any car, it's a Ferrari. Do you realize how cool that is? Do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" You smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. Even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous, not that you would ever tell him that. "You would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"But what if I ruin it?" His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "What if I go out there and I'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've made by even putting me in the academy? What if-"

"It won't happen." His eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "You're too good to do that. You'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

Finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. It's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "I'll try my best to make you proud."

“I'm always proud of you, you mufflehead.”

A laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. His heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. But his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter. And soon enough his heartbeat slows to normal.

“I bet that in twenty four hours not only will you finish the race, you will score points and beat Max Verstappen.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves” he says chuckling. “God, my neck is killing me.”

“Sit down. I've got you.” And so you start massaging his neck. It's stiff and hard under your hands and he lets a small groan as you untangle one of the knots that were quite painful. After a few minutes he is putty in your hands, his eyes closed, trusting you completely and feeling at ease for the first time in the past two days.

True to your world, Ollie crosses the finish line in seventh place, having gained points in his debut. But the one thing that kept him calm through the process was the thought that she was waiting for him in the cool down room. When the race finishes and drives the car back home he jumps from his seat and he can't get fast enough to her. People around him are praising him and congratulating him but they all fall to deaf eyes.

When he finally gets into the room to change into new fireproofs, she is patiently waiting for him. Her eyes are a little misty and her face flushed.

“I told you.”

“I didn't beat Max.”

“Still.”

She closes in on him and her hands are thrown around his neck, he reciprocates the hug immediately as his heart beat finally slows down. They doth draw away after a while only for him to dive back into her and kiss her firmly on the lips. Shock petrifies her and when he stops, he places his forehead on top of hers. He is a flustered mess and he is mumbling apologies, before she reconnects their lips.

For the following hours Ollie sports a shit-eating grin on his face. Everyone thinks that it is because of his amazing performance and not for kissing the girl that held his heart captive since they were five years old.

[tomwambsmilk]

The whole movie feels so weird bc, from a filmmaking perspective, a movie written by Aaron Sorkin and directed by David Fincher is an actual dream. Their respective styles are distinctive but in much the same kind of way, where the end product is so precisely fine-tuned without feeling completely unrealistic that it becomes riveting - Sorkin with his precise dialogue and Fincher with his meticulous camerawork and editing. So just on the face of it as a film it feels really good. But. For some reason. They decided to team up to make a movie about some of the most unsympathetic people on planet earth??? The only character who feels kind of sympathetic is Eduardo Saverin and tbh that's largely due to Andrew Garfield's performance.

These are not good guys. And I love movies about people who are not good people but Sorkin + Fincher are never willing to fully commit to the idea that they're shitty people (esp. Zuck) despite the fact they continually do shitty things throughout the movie, and so the core of the movie feels hollow. It feels like they don't want us to root for Zuck but they also don't want us to see him as a villain which leaves his whole character feeling kind of milquetoast. Saverin is at least interesting because of the ongoing dynamics of his friendship with Zuck and his role at FB, although he could have been more interesting if the movie was willing to acknowledge that he also fully engaged with the frat-bro, misogynistic, toxic masculinity culture (that Zuck clearly wants to be a part of so badly) rather than just painting him as a naive underdog. The man got into a final club he is NOT an underdog. Plus they insisted on setting up the Winklevoss twins as rich asshole villains when like ?????? Eduardo Saverin is also rich and Zuck is also an asshole.... these guys are not that different and this could have been a really good movie if they decided to play into that. But instead they made. This.

The ending of “The Social Network” is extremely funny to me because there simply is no way Zuck comes out of that story looking like a good person so they had to add that convo at the end where Rashida Jones claims the whole thing is 85% exaggeration because “every creation story needs a devil” lmaoooo girl you’re not wrong but sometimes the devil is actually real

[piasargeant]

F1 FIC RECOMMENDATIONS (WIP)

*NONE OF THESE FICS BELONG TO ME!! ALL CREDITS GO TO THE ORIGINAL POSTERS WHO ARE LISTED NEXT/BELOW THE FIC NAME!! THANK YOU!* *SOME CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!*

LOGAN SARGEANT OSCAR PIASTRI DANIEL RICCIARDO MAX VERSTAPPEN GEORGE RUSSELL LANDO NORRIS CHARLES LECLERC CARLOS SAINZ ALEX ALBON LANCE STROLL FRANCO COLAPINTO

PATO O'WARD DAVID MALUKAS ARTHUR LECLERC PAUL ARON OLLIE BEARMAN LIAM LAWSON MICK SCHUMACHER KIMI ANTONELLI

PREFERENCES

DRIVER!READER

[thomasthetankieengine]

Someone with a Stalin pfp posting this is brutally ironic, since the Bund was forcibly disbanded in 1921 by the Bolsheviks and a great deal of former Bundists met with grim fates at the hands of the Soviets:

David Petrovsky, Mikhail Liber, Fanny Nyurina, Isaak Nusinov, Yakov Bykin, Yakov Drobnis, Joseph Meerzon, Isaak Illich Rubin, Moisey Rukhimovich, Mikhail Mednikov, Moshe Gutman, Mark Donskoy, Abram Merezhin, Aleksandr Zolotarev, and Israel Leplevsky were all shot during the Purges.

Victor Alter and Henryk Ehrlich were both shot on Stalin's orders.

Aron Sokolovsky, Mikhail Borodin, Isaak Goldstein, Anna Rozental, Aron Vainshtein, Moisei Natanovich Gurvich, and Moisei Rafes died in the GULAG or Sovet prison.

Samuil Agurskii died in Soviet exile.

Zakhar Grinberg died in Soviet prison after being beaten to death.

To be fair, though, Polish Bundists often did not fare much better.

Simon Dubnow, Mordechai Gebirtig, Michał Klepfisz, Pati Kremer, Maurycy Orzech, Aron Skrobek, and Abraham Blum were all murdered by the Nazis and Szmul Zygielbojm committed suicide to protest the apathy of the Western Allies and Polish government in exile with regard to the Holocaust.

[angelvings-archive]

                            under the cut you'll find " some " pairings i've been absolutely dying to write ( the muse i have and prefer to write is in bold ) so like this post if you want to do one or more of these pairings and i'll im you 🫶🏻

timothée chalamet x lily - rose depp . madelyn cline x emilio sakraya . zendaya x rachelle vinberg . zíon moreno x leo woodall . christopher briney x anthony turpel . rachel sennott x chase sui wonders . evan roderick x alisha boe . alisha boe x mason gooding . nailea devora x brayden bradshaw . pedro pascal x ana de armas . maia reficco x alex fitzalan . daisy edgar - jones x paul mescal . christopher briney x timothée chalamet . laura harrier x sebastian stan . maia reficco x kj apa . ryan destiny x keith powers . riz ahmed x sophie thatcher . paul mescal x ayo edebiri . chase sui wonders x isabela merced . alexa tiziani x ryan manick . jenna coleman x david tennant . ayo edebiri x rachelle vinberg . jessica chastain x oscar isaac . dominic fike x chase sui wonders . maia reficco x drew starkey . archie renaux x camila mendes . hugh dancy x sarah snook . camilla morrone x dylan o'brien . camila mendes x jacob elordi . michael b jordan x laura harrier . emma mackey x charlie plummer . rudy pankow x sadie stanley . hugh dancy x jessica chastain . jessica chastain x lucy liu . melissa barrera x danny ramirez . mimi keene x mason gooding . aron piper x lorenzo zurzolo . zoë kravitz x riz ahmed . riz ahmed x ashley moore . dakota johnson x hande erçel . asa germann x sadie stanley .

[game-set-canet]

(via Instagram (Story 18.11.24) @ davidsanchis10)

[new-tella-us]

Okay this an odd question but it's haunting my brain a little. (Also sorry about all the pings, I'm just clarifying which MC belongs to who)

Theoretically. If the Mikas of the different universes were to meet, would they be considered siblings genetically? What would be the line between same character, sibling adjacent, and not the same? I would assume it's based on how different each Mika is and how their stories play out.

Like lets use an example. My Mika -Who for differentiation purposes, we will call Arshia- (@havenwitchworks will get the name) vs Aron (aka @seducemefanficsandheadcanons's MC) vs Holly (aka @clamure's MC)

None of these guys really fall into "Mika but written by someone else" so they wouldn't fall under "The same character" category but (assuming Aron is still the daughter of David and Laura) would Aron and Arshia be considered sisters or at least half sisters as David has basically stayed the same in both worlds.

And then there's Holly who seems to be an entirely different character, possibly unrelated to Harold and thus unrelated to any Mika. If she is still the granddaughter of Harold, would she be another sister/half-sister or would she be more like a cousin? And if she's not, is she only related based on the vague MC title?

What about @poddle99's MC who is Mika. No appearance change, no name change, no definitive personality change. It's just Mika in a different setting/game genre. Is that another sister? Would she and canon Mika be considered sisters or would this be a case of "They are literally the same person".

I know this question does not matter at the end of the day but will haunt me until I scream it into the void.

[lxndonorris]