#Triumph Dallas

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

........................hear me out................................

[jockwrites]

pillowtalk - p.b

warnings: smut, pet names, (baby, ma yk all that) idk what else tbh

a/n: i loved her in the dallas jersey i needed to make a fic abt it. also barely proof read lol

the dallas wings arena thrummed with the cheers of the crowd as your girlfriends final basket sank cleanly through the net, securing her team's victory. the blonde haired, blue eyed beauty grinned broadly as her teammates swarmed her, celebrating their hard fought win.

as the post-game pandemonium subsided, you navigated the bustling locker room, heart pounding with anticipation. paige, still in her sweat-soaked blue dallas wings jersey and shorts, was in finishing conversation with a reporter. seizing a window of opportunity, you approached, clearing your throat softly.

“paige, you did amazing,” you complimented, stepping up beside the blonde athlete as she wrapped up her interview. paige turned, blue eyes gleaming with unshed sweat and triumph, a wide, cocky grin spreading across her face. “glad you got to see it,”

paige excused herself from the lingering reporter and pulled you into a tight embrace, her strong arms wrapping around your waist. “i'm all sweaty, i'm so sorry,” she apologized while laughing, pulling back but keeping her hands on your hips. “that's okay, i don't mind,”

“i'll be right back,” she said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the locker room to change out of her uniform.

as paige changed, she couldn't stop thinking about you. she quickly shed her uniform, her hands trembling slightly as she removed each piece of clothing. she tossed her gear into her locker and grabbed a change of clothes, her mind racing with thoughts of you waiting outside.

she couldn’t wait to get you home, or to the car?

paige emerged from the locker room, dressed in a blue-ish black tracksuit, her blond hair damp from the shower. she scrubbed a towel over her buzzed head, her broad shoulders relaxed. “sorry 'bout that,” she said, flashing you a grin.

paige tossed the towel aside and sauntered over to you, her movements slightly different. she stopped a foot away, looking you up and down appreciatively. “you're a sight for sore eyes,” she said, her voice low and husky.

you chuckled and playfully rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. “what’s got you sore hmm?” you asked paige, smirking at the joke. paige laughed, her deep voice rumbling.

“nothing yet, but ima be sore in a minute if ion get you home,” paige said, her voice dropping an octave. her eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze as you giggled. her biceps flexed slightly as she uncrossed her arms.

paige licked her lips, her eyes still locked with yours. “you ready?” she asked, her voice a low, suggestive purr. she reached out and gently grasped your wrist, her calloused thumb brushing over your pulse point. “my car right outside…”

you laughed as she tugged gently on your wrist, urging you to leave with her. “c’mon, let's get out of here before i lose my patience entirely.”

paige led you out of the gym, her hand resting possessively on the small of your back as you walked towards the parking lot. once at her car, she hit the remote unlock button and opened the passenger door for you. “thank you,” you grinned.

you climbed into the car and pulled the seatbelt across yourself, watching as paige leaned in to make sure it was secure. “why d’we gotta leave so soon anyway?” you asked, tilting your head up to look at her.

paige raised an eyebrow as she straightened up, closing the door behind you. she leaned against the open window, her arms crossed over the door. “why you askin like you got sumn’ in mind?” she asked, her tone curious.

but i think she knows exactly what you wanna do.

paige smirked, leaning closer to the open window, her eyes glinting with mischief, “if you’re thinking what i’m thinking, once we start i ain't sure ill wanna stop.”

you grinned, leaning forward. “get in the car p. ‘m sure you don’t wanna keep waiting yeah?” your eyes filled with challenge and flirtation as you jerked your thumb towards the driver's seat. “clock’s ticking.”

paige slid into the driver's seat, her hand immediately finding your thigh as she leaned over. “you can't just say stuff like that and expect me to hold back," she growled, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss.

paige growled against your lips, her hands gripping your hips and lifting you clean out of the passenger seat. she deposited you on her lap, so you were straddling her. “come on baby, tell me what you wanna do.”

paige's hands slid up your sides, her thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your shirt. her hips shifted beneath you, the hard press of her muscles against your backside. “i want you to fuck me in this car,” you whispered against her neck.

you placed your hands on her shoulders for support, biting your lip as you rocked your hips forward. paige's eyes darkened, her voice dropping to a husky growl. “like this?”

paige's hands slid around to grab your ass, squeezing and guiding your movements as you rocked against her. she captured your lips in another hungry kiss, biting at your bottom lip. “you feel so good,” you breathed. she panted against your mouth, her hips starting to roll up to meet yours.

you gasped as you felt the continuous heat building between the two of you, your bodies moving together with growing urgency. you tangled your fingers in her hair, tugging lightly. “fuck, p...” you dragged the nickname, voice thick with desire as you ground down harder against her.

“just like that,” she breathed, tilting her head back against the headrest. you moaned softly, burying your face in her neck as you continued to move against her. “god i’m gonna cum,” you whispered, your voice hitching as she slid one hand down between your thighs, pressing her palm against your core through your leggings, “paige...”

you whimpered, bucking against her touch. “paige please...” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. she looked at you, her eyes filled with lust. “please, what, ma?” she murmured, slowly rubbing her hand against you. “do you want more?”

you panted, squirming under her touch. “more... please, paige. i need...” you broke off, moaning softly as she slipped her hand under your waistband, her cool fingers brushing against your bare skin. “you need what, baby?”

you trembled, your hips rocking against her hand. “i need your fingers... inside. please...” you whispered urgently, your heart racing in your chest. paige smiled, her thumb rubbing gently against your clit as she pushed two fingers inside you. “like this?”

you gasped, your body arching into her touch. without hesitation, you started to ride her fingers, your movements desperate and needy. “fuck, paige... yesjustlikethat” you panted, words stringing together as your hands grip her shoulders for support. you chased your pleasure.

you rode her fingers furiously, your inner walls clenching around them as you sought relief. paige watched you, her own arousal growing at the sight of you losing control. she curled her fingers inside you, rubbing against that sensitive spot within you. “fuck, you're so tight, and wet...”

you slowly lowered yourself up & down onto her fingers, feeling them stretch you open as you took them in inch by inch. paige looked up at you, her eyes locked onto yours as she slowly curled her fingers inside you, gently massaging that spot deep inside. “look at me.”

you met her gaze, holding it as you began to rock your hips, slowly sliding up and down her fingers. paige watched you, her thumb rubbing gentle circles against your clit as you moved.

you slowly guided yourself down onto her fingers, gasping softly at the fullness. she watched your face intently, adjusting her pace to match yours. her thumb was a constant tease against your sensitive clit, while her two fingers moved rhythmically inside you. “does that feel good ma?”

your reply was an exaggerated nod, your mouth falling open as you continued to rock your hips, slowly guiding yourself up and down her fingers. paige continued her gentle, rhythmic movements, her thumb still teasing your clit as she murmured, “you like that?”

paige paused her fingers inside you, making you whimper and try to shift your hips downwards. “answer me,” she commanded, her voice low and insistent. “say it.” she prompted, her thumb still rubbing slow circles.

you bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you realized she wanted you to say it out loud. “fuck, i like it.” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper. paige chuckled, her fingers slowly curling inside you. “louder, baby.”

“i like it..” you whimpered louder, your body tensing around her fingers as she hit that spot deep inside again. “and what am i doing to you?” paige prompted, her fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. “speak up... am i fucking you right now?” she cooed.

her three fingers slowly pushed in and out of you, curling upwards to hit that spot deep inside that made you whimper and try to sit lower on her hand. Her thumb was a constant, soothing presence against your swollen clit. “am i?”

you let out a shuddering breath, your hips rocking down to take her fingers deeper. “fuck,” you whispered, your face buried in her neck. “you’re fucking me paige.” you added, your voice growing louder and more confident with each word.

her fingers slid in and out of you with deliberate slowness while her thumb maintained its steady pressure on your clit. She nipped at your neck, breathing heavily in your ear “that's right... tell me how it feels. my fingers... deep inside you?”

“fuck, paigeee,” you moaned her name as her fingers curled purposefully against your g-spot, pressing firmly while her thumb continued its measured pace on your clit. her other hand slid up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt “you're getting wetter... can you feel it?”

her fingers moved faster now, plunging in and out of your dripping pussy. “fuck yes, god,” you moaned as her thumb pressed down hard on your clit, rubbing it in quick circles. the hand on your breast slipped under your shirt to palm your bare breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between her fingers.

her fingers curled inside you, pressing hard against your g-spot as her thumb rubbed your clit in fast, tight circles. she leaned in close, her hot breath against your ear. “cum for me, baby.”

she continued her relentless pace, her fingers moving in and out of you with a quick, steady rhythm. her thumb rubbed your clit in fast circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “cum on my fingers, now,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

as soon as the words “god, paige i’m gonna fucking cum, please,” left your lips, she removed her thumb from your clit and curled her fingers deeper inside you, hitting your g-spot over and over as she allowed you to finally climax. your legs shook, your voice became hoarse as you begged.

your orgasm hit hard, your pussy clenching and unclenching around her fingers as you gushed all over them, cumming so hard your vision blurred. she held still, letting you ride out the waves of your pleasure as she watched your face, a satisfied smile on her lips.

then, she gestures to the backseat, eagerly pointing her thumb; this was gonna be fun.

a/n: i wanted to write scissoring but lost motivation and got writers block so ill save for another ok bye 😕

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"Can you shut the fuck up for a second!" Pony's fists are clenched so hard the knuckles are white 'n Steve thinks suddenly it's probably a good thing the kid bites at his nails or they'd be diggin' into his palms.

"No, you little punk. What's your problem?" Steve's not really angry yet. He's still pokin' half-heartedly mostly on instinct then any real urge to piss the kid off. The problem is that Pony is decidedly way over the aggravated line 'n into pissed without any help from Steve at all.

"I just had a shitty fuckin' day ok! How about you mind your business! Actually, why don't you hang out at your own house? You're wanted there just as much as here." Somethin' flashes across Steve's face 'n he narrows his eyes. Pony's flushed, chest heavin', a look of triumph on his face.

"You take that shit back." Steve balls his hands up, forces himself to stay down on the couch instead of marchin' over 'n puttin' the kid on his fuckin' head.

"No." Pony tilts his head 'n flashes a cold smile Steve just knows he picked up from Dallas. Steve takes a long breath. Remembers that Pony has a tendency to be cruel 'n not mean any of it when he was livid like this.

He's fourteen, Steve. Do you remember fourteen? Darry had told him after one of their regular matches. And he did. The problem was that Steve hadn't said mean shit. He just knocked the offender on his ass. Pony's mouth was too smart for his own good.

"You know what? You don't get to take your shit out on me, actually. Fuck off." Steve settles back on the sofa, turns back to the TV like he can pay any attention. God, where was Darry when you needed him. He'd probably collapse from the shock of it.

See, Steve contents himself with imagin' his face, I can be the bigger man. But then it's spoiled some since Steve can clearly hear Darry's took you long enough, you're only three years older than the kid.

"The fuck? Steve c'mon." Pony finally drops his school bag, right in the middle of the floor where Darry's gonna holler at him when he trips over it later, 'n takes half a step toward Steve. Like he's wheedlin' for a fight.

"C'mon? Glory, Pony. What's your fuckin' problem?"

"I don't have a fuckin' problem! Ok! You're the one with the problem!" Pony's voice is hittin' an all-time high, shrill note of frustration. Steve tears his eyes off the TV, rollin' 'em with a sigh, but now that he's lookin' at Pony he can see the way his eyes are rimmed red 'n his lip is bleedin' from him bitin' at it.

"Pony? Chill out kid, what's goin' on?" Pony does not chill out. In fact, it only serves to get him more frustrated.

"Nothin'! Nothin' is goin' on! Ok! I just don't know why you always have to be here 'n actin' like that 'n in my house- 'n- 'n-" Suddenly hot tears are streakin' down Pony's face 'n he's scrubbin' them away with nails bit down so far they're bleedin'.

"Pony?" Oh, Jesus. Where is Darry when you need him? Steve flies to his feet 'n Pony flinches back like he suddenly doesn't want the fight he's been askin' for. "Oh, glory kid."

"Just leave me the fuck alone. I'm fine!" Steve grabs Pony's wrists 'n hesitates awkwardly. He wasn't used to havin' to comfort the kid 'n he was way out of his zone. So he just moves on instinct, pullin' the kid to his chest like he's watched Darry do a hundred times.

For a moment Pony stiffens up 'n holds his hands out like he's not sure what to do with them, a weak little sob half caught in his throat. Then Steve wraps him up maybe a little too tight 'n Pony lets himself go limp.

"Let me go, Steve!" Pony wails like he doesn't have his face buried in Steve's shirt, leanin' so hard against him Steve's gotta work to keep him on his feet.

"Fine." Steve squeezes him again 'n then unceremoniously drops him. Pony's on the floor before he knows what's happenin' 'n Steve crouches down 'n puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him there. Pony goes to scramble to his feet 'n Steve pushes him back down, gently. "You wanna tell me what's goin' on?"

Pony blinks at him, eyes wide 'n hair wild 'n Steve can abruptly see him at eight, runnin' to Steve 'cause he'd scraped his knee 'n didn't want to tell Darry 'cause he'd told him to put on jeans if he was gonna ride his bike. Steve had made him give him his dessert in exchange for silence but had snuck the first aid kit out the bathroom window 'n wrapped it up real good.

"I dunno..." Pony scrapes again at the tears fallin' down his face 'n Steve bats his hand away, pullin' his handkerchief from his pocket 'n pressin' it none too gently across Pony's cheeks. "Knock that off." Pony snatches it from Steve 'n wipes at his own face.

"Glory, someone's in a mood." Apparently, it was too soon for that.

"I am not! Look, Steve, I can handle it myself. I don't need your bullshit." Pony pushes himself up 'n Steve easily grabs his wrist 'n yanks him back down.

"Fine, you don't need my help which, by the way, I wasn't offerin'. I just think if I'm gonna get hollered at on my day off I should get to know why." Pony narrows his eyes, scowlin' hard before droppin' his sulk down to his lap.

"It's nothin'. I just- I dunno, sometimes I just, when I-ugh!" Pony throws his hands up, makes a low angry sound in the back of his throat. "I just had a bad fuckin' day 'cause like, I just, it's-"

Oh. Steve thinks. Ok. I know that.

"If you don't know... like, what it is-" Pony goes to cut him off 'n Steve whacks him on the hand 'n barrels on. "Or if you know what it is but you don't know how to like... say it. Don't worry about it. I'm not gonna make you figure it out."

Pony blinks at him again 'n Steve drops his hand off his shoulder. "Well. Alright." 'N just like that Pony wipes the remain' tears away, clambers up, 'n offers Steve a hand. Man, if the kid couldn't bounce back from anythin'. Steve tries to remember if he'd ever been like that. But he remembered fourteen 'n he'd always been more of a sulker.

"We good, kid?" Steve eyes him 'n Pony shrugs, shoots him a mischievously little grin Steve knows he got from Soda.

"Sure, as long as you get me dinner."

"Oh sure," He pulls Pony under his arm 'n messes up his hair 'n Pony whines," as long as you're payin'. After all it is your house."

[t-annhauser]

- Dio! disse tranquillo. Non è forse il mare proprio come dice Algy: una grande dolce madre? Il mare verdemoccio. Lo scrotorestringente mare. Epi oinopa ponton. Ah, Dedalus, i Greci! Devo istruirti. Devi leggerli in originale. Thalatta! Thalatta! La nostra grande e dolce madre. Vieni a vedere.  Stephen si alzò e si accostò al parapetto. Vi si appoggiò e abbassò lo sguardo sull'acqua e sul postale che si allontanava dalla bocca di porto di Kingstown.

Ulisse, Joyce

[Algy è il poeta decadente Algernon Charles Swinburne. Si cita qui un verso, "I will go back to the great sweet mother/Mother and lover of men, the sea", dal suo poema The Triumph of Time (1866). Epi oinopa ponton, dall'Odissea, "sopra il mare colore del vino". Thalatta! Thalatta!, "Mare! Mare!", ovvero il grido di gioia quando i Diecimila Greci, mercenari assoldati da Ciro il Giovane, videro l'Euxeinos Pontos, il Mar Nero, dal Monte Theches vicino a Trebisonda dopo aver partecipato alla fallita marcia contro l'Impero persiano nell'anno 401 a.C. Si veda l'Anabasi di Senofonte]

[vossprime]

2, 12, 13, and 17 from that ask game for Zlatko 🫡

Hiiii~

2. How long was the process before the character reached its final version? (or a version that would be clearly recognizable as the character?)

It definitely took a few months! In the beginning I played him much more dogmatic and based off vibes rather than a specific mindset as he did not really have a set backstory beyond the Triumph and Darkest Hour yet (now reflected in him getting more and more iconoclast later in game). Visually, It was always pretty clear-set - i just jumbled something together in the character creator and went from there and took a few body parts away. The fact he looks a bit like me was actually reverse engineering - I got the buzzcut AFTER making the character :'D I don't think he has a definite final version, as of right now I am re-designing his augment based off the art @systembug made for him and I've also tweaked his backstory multiple times to allow for new learned lore and worldbuilding so he is steadily evolving..

12. Do you have a playlist for the character? What songs do you associate with them and why?

I have a completely un-sorted Spotify playlist called "Golden" here

Most recent addition Is Tear in Space (Airlock) by Glass Animals because look at those lyrics :D

I'm here, but you aren't sure What are you waiting for? Stretch me like leather rope Make me invisible Shape me into your form What are you waiting for? Hostage, so in love It's an airless black chasm You turn the airlock on

Actually this could be an unskippable cutscene but you know what? I will be so normal. but barely.

13. Do you have a voice claim for the character? What do you imagine the character sounds like?

A few people have joked that I should just use my own voice but he's a lot lower than me + has a flatter tone of affect. Niko suggested Yasuo from Lol with the pitch of Twisted Fate and I also kind of imagine it a bit like that of the singer of the band Korben Dallas in this song.

Honestly, my voice claim in terms of intonation and delivery is how @goofgoofdildo reads him. He did such a banger job in the three times I've had the pleasure that now whenever I have to write Zlatko I imagine him reading it in my head, facts.

17. Are there any motifs or symbols associated with the character? How are they represented, in their design, personality or in some other way?

Gold, of course, hence the name, it appears in every iteration of the character :D Also ye olde dog motif because I am not immune and hey, commissars ARE dogs of the Imperium, I don't make the rules! I like to throw birds in there too because Tzeentch (and Mayrie, whose symbol is the eagle). I also like to bring in hunting/hunter imagery.

[txttletale]

Thoughts on the new mountain goats album?

i really like it. i think it's some of jd's best songwriting in a while and the instrumentation is really good, lending the whole album this sense of warmth and mournful triumph. a lot of songs on it are very powerful and connected to me strongly -- 'fresh tattoo' convinced me to get a new tattoo lmao. the only thing that i think lets it down is john darnielle's vocal performance. e.g. i think that 'murder at the 18th street garage' will be a killer live song but the studio version just doesn't have enough energy or bite to it. overall it reminds me a lot of goths, in a good way. 'ground level', 'fresh tattoo', 'jenny iii' and 'going to dallas' are instant classics for me

[what-yadoking-likes]

Random MasterGuide AU, Part 6

[Link to Part 5 Here]

"Sir!" Kento acknowledged his superior with brisk efficiency.

Dallas wasn't heeding The Dentist's obvious triumph, and the hopelessness of the situation. As much as Bain silently willed the man to keep his goddamn mouth shut, the mastermind refused to do so.

"Jiro's been looking for you-"

"Bain and the Payday gang leader known as Dallas will be released shortly. You will be escorted onto a plane-"

"Your Dad Jiro, you know?"

Kento continued as there were no interruption at all, speaking clearly and unhurriedly.

"-where you will both be flown to your desired locations-"

"Dallas-" Bain hissed.

"-once we have secured the leverage we require." Kento's face remained perfectly stoic as he spoke, totally unaffected by Dallas' interjections and attempts to - what, exactly? Annoy Kento into beating them? Bain knew better than most not to piss off Kento, knew what lay behind that neutral visage. Kento was cruel in his precision, executing orders to hurt and maim without a moment's hesitation.

"As we know your secrets, so too have you learned some of ours." Dallas glanced at Bain.

"If you keep our secrets, we will keep yours." Kento raised a hand, placing it atop the camera.

"We will provide face coverings for Bain. Dallas shows his face. His body, too."

Bain blanched. He physically recoiled. He thought he heard a sharp intake of breath - and fought not to watch how The Dentist's grin grew bigger as Kento's words sunk in.

"What's wrong, Mr Steele?" The Dentist crowed, taking a step closer to the mastermind - Dallas immediately stepped away from him, finally level with Bain's side.

Kento continued. "We record Dallas cumming. The method doesn't matter - but his face remains visible at all times. This ensures your cooperation in keeping our secrets, and in turn we shall keep yours." His features sharpened, like a hawk spying its prey. "Failure to keep our secrets results in the footage being leaked, along with your name and last known location... Nathan."

Bain's eye shot to Dallas's face. Gone was the arrogant blustering of before, his talking back. Behind the bruising and blood the man had paled. All the insults he'd wanted to hurl at them had died - his stunned lips had flown wide apart.

"You're sick," he whispered. "You're a sick fucking bastard."

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"David Dellinger and his friend Don Benedict caught a ride from New York to Washington, D.C., for the Lincoln’s Birthday weekend of 1940. Who knows where they stayed—on somebody’s floor, probably. It was the Depression, and Dellinger in particular knew all about roughing it. Benedict was hoping to learn from him on that score. They were in Washington because the two of them were part of a youth movement whose eager vanguard had descended on the city to agitate for jobs, rights, peace, and what they saw as justice. Both had backgrounds in the important Christian student movement of the era, Dellinger at Yale and Benedict at Albion, a little Methodist college in Michigan, and both now were graduate students at Union Theological Seminary in New York. There Dellinger had quickly formed a close bond with Benedict and Meredith Dallas, also from Albion. Pacifism, like socialism, was in the air at Union, at least among students.

Members of the American Youth Congress parade in gas masks on Fifth Avenue in New York City February 6, 1940 protesting impending war and publicizing the upcoming youth pilgrimage to Washington, D.C. Acme News Service. Washington Spark Flickr.

It was an exciting time, even if, like W. H. Auden, America’s young, having lived through “a low dishonest decade,” could feel the

Waves of anger and fear Circulate over the bright And darkened lands of the earth, Obsessing our private lives[.]

The students who made their way to Washington that weekend had come of age in the Great Depression. America’s collegians, once apathetic, were now far more conscious of injustice, chafing under the political constraints imposed by paternalistic faculty and administrators—and determined to stay out of war. “It was a time when frats, like the football team, were losing their glamor,” wrote the playwright Arthur Miller, recalling his days at the University of Michigan (Class of 1938):

Instead my generation thirsted for another kind of action, and we took great pleasure in the sit-down strikes that burst loose in Flint and Detroit…We saw a new world coming every third morning.

Many such Americans worried that war would undo whatever progress had been made by the New Deal, while undermining civil liberties. Stuart Chase, a popular economics writer and FDR associate whose 1932 book, A New Deal, provided ideas and a name for the White House program, argued that by avoiding war we might achieve

the abolition of poverty, unprecedented improvements in health and energy, a towering renaissance in the arts, an architecture and an engineering to challenge the gods.

But if war were to come, he wrote, we would see

the liquidation of political democracy, of Congress, the Supreme Court, private enterprise, the banks, free press and free speech; the persecution of German-Americans and Italian-Americans, witch hunts, forced labor, fixed prices, rationing, astronomical debts, and the rest.

Delegates to the American Youth Congress march from the U.S. Capitol to the White House Feb 9, 1940 where they were addressed by President Franklin Roosevelt. International News Photo, Washington Area Spark Flickr.

If Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal didn’t go far enough, it had at least offered hope. But in foreign affairs even this scant comfort was absent. During the thirties students had seen the rise of Hitler, the fascist triumph in the Spanish Civil War, and a series of futile appeasement measures culminating in the Nazi invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939, which triggered war with Britain and France. As Dellinger, Benedict, and thousands like them arrived in Washington, tiny Finland was still fighting with unexpected ferocity to repel an invasion by the Soviet Union, which had cynically agreed with Germany to divide Europe between them. The Red Army even joined in the dismembering of Poland. On the other side of the world, China had been struggling since 1937 against a brutal Japanese invasion.

Hope springs eternal, but on the morning of Saturday, February 10, 1940, even the nasty weather augured ill. Washington was rainy and cold as a young woman on horseback—dressed as Joan of Arc—led a procession of idealistic young Americans along Constitution Avenue. Many were in fanciful costumes. The rich array included some in chain mail and others dressed as Puritans. A delegation from Kentucky rode mules. Signs and banners held aloft by the students that weekend bore antiwar slogans, including, loans for farms, not arms; jobs not guns; and, in sardonic reference to the discredited crusade of the Great War, the yanks are not coming.

The context of their march was the national struggle over what role America should play in the European war—a war that had happened despite the best efforts of well-meaning people the world over to avoid it by means of rhetoric, law, arms control, appeasement, and every other method short of actually fighting about it. Now that it was at hand, America’s young were far more opposed to intervention than their elders, and this was a source of conflict on campus. At Harvard’s graduation a few months later, class orator Tudor Gardiner reflected the attitudes of many students in calling aid for the Allies “fantastic nonsense” and urging a focus on “making this hemisphere impregnable.” When Gardiner’s predecessor by twenty-five years recalled, at a reunion event, that “We were not too proud to fight then and we are not too proud to fight now,” recent graduates booed. But when commencement speaker Cordell Hull, FDR’s secretary of state, called isolationism “dangerous folly,” Harvard president James Bryant Conant nodded in support. Scenes like this would play out at campuses all across the country.

Delegates to the American Youth Congress with the U.S. Capitol in the background Feb 9, 1940 call for more jobs not war. The image is an undated Harris & Ewing photograph from the Library of Congress.

The students who converged on Washington for the Lincoln’s Birthday weekend brought with them their generation’s disdain for war. Marching in a steady drizzle, they were bound, these tender youths, for the White House, to which they had foolishly been invited by Eleanor Roosevelt—herself an active pacifist during the interwar years. “Almost six thousand young people marched,” her biographer reports, “farmers and sharecroppers, workers and musicians, from high schools and colleges, black and white, Indians and Latinos, Christians and Jews, atheists and agnostics, freethinkers and dreamers, liberals and Communists.”

Dellinger and Benedict were part of this “extraordinary patchwork,” the two seminarians having made the trip from New York by car with some other young people. Dellinger in particular was already being noticed, as he always seemed to be. Years later he would recall (clearly as part of this weekend) being invited by the First Lady to a White House tea in early 1940 with other student leaders who had, as he put it, organized a protest that she supported. Benedict’s memoir recalls that the two of them went to Washington that same month and attended “a huge rally, with thousands massed around the White House” to hear remarks by the president and the First Lady. “Dave and I talked a lot about demonstrating,” Benedict writes, adding: “Both of us knew the value of drama.”

...

For the White House, it made sense to pay attention to the young, many of whom would be just old enough to vote in the upcoming presidential election. Before the Depression, college students were solidly Republican, but as the thirties wore on and their social consciousness expanded, they swung increasingly to Roosevelt’s Democrats. The AYC [American Youth Congress] was both a cause and effect of this change and enjoyed the warm support of Eleanor Roosevelt, who over the several years of its existence had raised money for it, defended it in her newspaper columns, procured access to important public figures, and even scheduled face time with the president. For the big weekend event she had gone all out, prevailing on officials, hostesses, and her husband to accommodate the anticipated five thousand young people in every possible way. An army colonel named George S. Patton housed a bunch of the boys in a riding facility the First Lady had recently visited. She lined up buses; helped with costumes and flags, meals and teas; and arranged at least one of the latter at the White House—consistent with Dellinger’s recollection.

The event in Washington was billed as “a monster lobby for jobs, peace, civil liberties, education and health,” but it turned out to be the Götterdämmerung for the youth congress, and a landmark in the decline of America’s vigorous interwar peace movement. Nothing could more effectively symbolize the movement’s tender idealism, fair-weather pacifism, and ecclesiastical aura than an American college student dressed as the Maid of Orleans—a sainted military hero—on horseback, just months before France itself fell to an onslaught of modern mechanized warfare. Of course the American Joan of Arc, whoever she was, can be read as a symbol of hope for France because, in fact, the Yanks were coming, even if most of them didn’t know it yet. On the other hand, hopes for peace were starting to look more like delusions, even to those who held them, and here the symbolism becomes even richer, for Joan embodies three powerful drivers of the era’s American peace movement: She is young, she is female, and she is religious.

A few of the 3,000 youth that arrived for the opening of the three day American Youth Congress February 9, 1940 that will lobby Congress for passage of a youth bill to provide education and jobs. Washington Area Spark Flickr.

Many of these activists regarded abolitionism as the forerunner of their reformist enterprise, so it was fitting that here they were, in 1940, rallying for righteous change on the weekend of Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. By now the students have reached the White House, arriving an hour early to hear the president. They had to leave their banners and placards outside the gates, where the guards on duty counted 4,466 gaining admission to the South Lawn—no doubt including Dellinger and Benedict. They grew colder and wetter as they waited.

After a while the American Youth Congress’s national chairman, Jack McMichael, a southern divinity student who had earlier spoken out against the violent abuse and disenfranchisement of blacks, took the microphone on the South Portico and led the students in singing “America the Beautiful.” And then, at long last, he introduced the president, describing our troubled country as a place where Americans dream of “the land of the free and the home of the brave,” but face the threat of bloodshed.

Now war, which brings nothing but death and degradation to youth and profit and power to a few, reaches out for us. Are we to solve our youth problem by dressing it in uniform and shooting it full of holes? America should welcome and should not fear a young generation aware of its own problems, active in advancing the interests of the entire nation…They are here to discuss their problems and to tell you, Mr. President, and the Congress, their needs and desires…I am happy to present to you, Mr. President, these American youth.

When FDR finally appeared, looking out with Eleanor over a sodden crowd dotted with umbrellas, he wore a strange smile—and gave them a blistering earful, dismissing as “unadulterated twaddle” their concerns about Finland and warning them against meddling in subjects “which you have not thought through and on which you cannot possibly have complete knowledge.” Concerning their cherished Soviet Union, FDR said that in whatever hopes the Soviet “experiment” had begun, today it was “a dictatorship as absolute as any other dictatorship in the world.” It was a shocking public rebuke to the students as well as the First Lady. The young compounded the fiasco by booing and hissing, creating a public relations nightmare in a nation that took a dim view of such a response to the president. Later that afternoon the First Lady had to sit still at an Institute plenary session, calming herself by knitting, while the fiery antiinterventionist John L. Lewis pandered to his student audience by heaping abuse on FDR. He would support Willkie in the coming election.

Besides Dellinger, other future activists who stood in the rain for Roosevelt’s “spanking,” as some newspapers called it, included future Representative Bella Abzug of New York and the writer Joseph Lash, who would win the Pulitzer Prize for his biography of Eleanor Roosevelt and help found with her (and Niebuhr) the liberal but anti-communist Americans for Democratic Action. Woody Guthrie was on hand, too, to write the student movement’s requiem. The folk singer, not yet a celebrity, arrived by riding the rails from Texas. Stunned by the president’s public scolding of the idealistic youngsters, Guthrie wrote a song on the spot entitled, “Why Do You Stand There in the Rain?”

It was raining mighty hard in that old Capitol yard When the young folks gathered at the White House gate. … While they butcher and they kill, Uncle Sam foots the bill With his own dear children standing in the rain.

Without money, Dellinger and Benedict made like Guthrie by riding the rails to get home—a first for Benedict but something Dellinger had been doing on and off for several years. After the excitement of the weekend they entered the railyard in darkness, careful to elude watchmen, and hunted for a train heading north. When they found one, they couldn’t gain access to any of the boxcars, but finally climbed aboard an open coal car, the freezing wind whipping them as they picked up speed, the air thick with choking dust and smoke. Miserable as it was, they were moving too fast to get off. It was an omen, perhaps, of the nature of their journey to come.

- Daniel Akst, War By Other Means: How the Pacifists of World War 2 Changed America for Good. New York: Melville House, 2022. p. 4-6, 7-8, 17-19.

[grigori77]

Movies of 2024 - My Pre-Summer Rundown (Part 1)

The Runners-up:

20.  ROAD HOUSE – ranked VERY HIGH INDEED on the list of great movies that really don’t need remaking, Doug Liman’s stab at turning 1989’s beloved original guilty pleasure action-fest into something a bit more modern doesn’t QUITE succeed, but it’s still a whole lot better than it has any right to be.  Jake Gyllenhaal’s Dalton is a very different beast from Swayze’s but he is the surprisingly warm heart at the centre of this deeply revisionist take.  Ultimately the old one’s STILL the superior film, but this is still a very admirable attempt.

19.  ARGYLE – while it ultimately fails to capture the charm of director Matthew Vaughn’s far more enjoyable original Kingsman film, this gloriously DAFT sort-of-meta adaptation of the popular espionage adventure novel is still a whole lot of fun.  Bryce Dallas Howard is charmingly nerdy as the author who discovers that the fictional adventures she writes about Henry Cavill’s titular master spy are actually VERY REAL, but the true star of this film is Sam Rockwell as one of the most unlikely action heroes out there …

18.  SIXTY MINUTES – Netflix’ razor sharp, super-trim real-time action thriller is a tour-de-force breakneck romp which is sure to provide a major breakout for French writer-director Oliver Kienle (Isi & Ossi, Two Hands).  Martial artist Emilio Sakraya shines as Octavio, an MMA fighter who ditches a match in order to attend his daughter’s birthday party, only to find himself fighting his way through various thugs as he races through Paris streets in a desperate bid to make it on time to avoid losing custody of his little girl.

17.  I.S.S. – sneaking in largely under the radar, this super-tense sci-fi thriller from director Gabriela Cowperthwaite (Blackfish, Megan Leavey) deserves a lot more attention than it’s likely to get.  The International Space Station becomes a microcosm for the world as the sudden eruption of nuclear war between America and Russia leads to a fraught standoff between the astronauts and cosmonauts in orbit.  If nothing else, this should be a star-making turn for its lead, Ariana DeBose (Hamilton, Schmigadoon!).

16.  GHOSTBUSTERS: FROZEN EMPIRE – 2021’s Afterlife may have been a clunky misstep in Sony’s attempt to soft-reboot the franchise, but this follow-up definitely gets things RIGHT back on track, delivering a much more interesting and original story and making the new generation of spook-wranglers a good deal more interesting.  It’s still a ways short of the quality of the original Ivan Reitman movies (or even the unfairly maligned 2016 movie), but it’s at least good enough to appease us the fans …

15.  SOCIETY OF THE SNOW – writer-director J.A. Bayona (The Impossible, A Monster Calls) retells the true story of the desperate battle for survival of the Uruguayan rugby team who crash-landed in the Andes in 1972, previously brought to the screen in Frank Marhsall’s divisive 1993 movie Alive.  This is a far more introspective and authentic film, and ultimately proves the superior cinematic account, lending a moving air of poetic beauty to an otherwise harrowing tale of loss and hard-won triumph

14.  REBEL MOON, PART TWO: THE SCARGIVER – once again, this is likely more of a placeholder than a true review, since I fully expect to give both movies a far more comprehensive once-over when the Director’s Cuts of Zack Snyder’s two-part overblown sci-fi space opera are finally released.  Suffice to say, this is already a MUCH better film than Part One, regardless of what the reviews are saying, so I can only imagine whatever we get in the extended version will only add flavour to what’s already a perfectly decent flick.  Honestly, I really LIKE these movies, even in their chopped-down condition they’re far more fun than we really expected them to be, and there’s no escaping the fact that, just like the first half, this is a genuine visual work of art, Snyder again proving that whatever else you might wanna say about him, he really is a master of visual storytelling.  We’ll just have to see how the proper FINISHED films turn out, whenever that is …

13.  DAMSEL – Millie Bobby Brown shines as a princess shipped to a far-off kingdom to wed a prince in order to save her impoverished land from succumbing to famine, only to discover she’s really being sacrificed to a ferocious dragon.  Following the Dragonslayer blueprint of playing medieval fantasy as pure survival horror, this taut suspense thriller from 28 Weeks Later director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo does a really beautiful job of taking a classic genre trope and turning it on its head in winning style.

12.  ORIGIN – both adaptation and biopic,this moving drama from writer-director Ava Duvernay (Selma) tells the true story of journalist and author Isabel Wilkerson (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) while also following her journey as she wrote her incredibly important nonfiction novel Caste: the Origins of Our Discontents.  The subsequent film is at once a powerful account of a woman’s struggle to overcome personal grief and a potent treatise on how centuries of systemic racism and elitism have created massive social divides all across the modern world.

11.  MONKEY MAN – Dev Patel makes his directorial debut while starring in this wonderfully bizarre action thriller about a poor boy living in Yatana while seeking revenge against the powerful men who destroyed the forest home of his childhood.  Touted as an Indian John Wick, this is actually a far more psychologically intriguing film than that, tackling weighty sociopolitical themes with powerful emotional and theological resonance.  That being said, the action sequences ARE genuinely spectacular too …

[footyworkfusion]

Footyworkfusion is finally here!

Unlocking Your Soccer Potential: A Holistic Approach by Samuel Maraver

“Dallas Cup Final in Dallas, Texas”

A passion for soccer

Soccer is more than a sport; it is a part of who I am in this world. I started my journey in the beautiful streets of Caracas, Venezuela when I was only three years old. Since then, I've navigated through diverse tiers of competition, from grassroots club skirmishes to prestigious international tournaments in Spain. Today, I stand poised to unravel the intricacies of success in the captivating world of soccer.

Emboldened by my own odyssey, I am fervently convinced that soccer transcends mere athletic pursuit—it serves as a conduit for personal and professional growth. The program that I offer covers all the possible areas that a real athlete needs to fulfill to become a true professional. Join me and together we will embrace this beautiful hardworking journey that will make your dreams a reality in a matter of time.

Cultivating Excellence from passion

Coming from Venezuela, a country in which we share an unconditional passion and joy for soccer. I had the privilege to form part of this beautiful sport at a very young age. Every water bottle, aluminum paper and wooden sticks represented an opportunity to turn it into a soccer ball with a goal. I was born with that passion for the game and a few years later at the age of eleven I moved with my family to the United States which allowed me to flourish my passion along with great opportunities playing at different levels along the soccer pyramid. I was able to master my left foot abilities along with my versatility playing as a left back on the field.

My journey has shaped my passion and allowed me to share that passion through this program. My program is a living representation of my experiences, tricks, and small details that differentiate amateur players from high quality professional footballers. This will not only form players in the field but also well-rounded individuals outside of the field.

“U-19 Category Division de Honor Tarragona, Spain”

Beyond the Field, Towards Life’s Triumphs

Beyond my record of wins and defeats, this sport brough me so many life lessons that have stuck with me forever. From helping teammates in need with equipment, to being the bigger person and helping the captain from my rival team with a cramp. These experiences that come from being part of this sport have shaped my character and my unique way of navigating through life like no other.

In my program, players will not only become better at different aspects of the game, but they will have an immense growth with cultural values and virtues that will help them in their daily lives.

Greatness in the making

My program offers players the ability to detect problems and ways to overcome them with a professional attitude. There are numerous factors that contribute to the overall making of a professional and mentality plays the most important part in it all. I emphasize a lot in this sector because if you have talent and discipline, but your mentality is in the wrong place you can be affected and fall short. Reaching the professional world of soccer takes a lot of risk and uncertainty but with my program you will have my guidance which will give you a significant advantage from average players that do not have a high-quality mentor.

The importance of unbreakable discipline

The greatest footballers in the world have one thing in common and that is that on their minds they are the best even when they really were not the best. Our daily lives have different challenges and difficulties that we must go through in order to be successful but when you are talking about the beautiful game you get mentally challenged every second of the match. Maintaining a positive, cold and clear mind will help you evolve in the game in a short amount of time.

Discipline is not just a good quality in a player, it is the pilar of success in this sport. My program emphasizes every single area that targets the fortification of the mind. This goes from overcoming a set back to being the main character and stepping up in a hard game.

A lot of people believe that soccer is a lot about who is the biggest and most physical player on the pitch, but they are wrong. This sport requires a mental aspect that a lot of people underestimate. Lionel Messi is the best example since he is the best player in the world not because he is big and strong but because he is quick, smart and he can make something from nothing.

My program meticulously addresses every facet aimed at fortifying the mind, from resilience in the face of setbacks to assuming leadership roles in challenging situations. Dispelling the notion that physical prowess reigns supreme on the soccer pitch, my program accentuates the significance of mental acuity.

Drawing inspiration from luminaries like Lionel Messi, it underscores the transformative power of mental agility in shaping one's soccer journey. Central to my program is the innovative practice of visualization, proven to enhance confidence and performance by envisioning success before it unfolds.

Building your path

If your inspiration is to become a professional footballer then you need to have a plan, a goal and a vision. These three components are key when working towards a big goal in your life. When you have your mind, body and soul compromised towards a goal you just focus on the steps necessary that will take you there while putting the distractions aside.  

“MLS Next All-Star game Indio, California”

Mastering the Art of Soccer

Becoming the best version of yourself as a footballer includes having an exquisite technical aspect to the ball. Being able to read the game and adapt to it no matter what the field, the crowd and the weather is telling you. The more technical you are the less time you will spend on the ball, meaning that you will never be physically affected when the rivals come get the ball away from you. My program reflects and projects the most intricate technical drills that will help you play at the next level.

Our Vision and ultimate goal with the amazing program that we offer is for our clients to reach their full potential on and off the field. We want them all to reach their aspirations in the world of soccer along with making everyone the best versions of themselves along with a professional aspect to it.

My experiences along the way have taught me a lot about this beautiful sport, and it took me from the streets of Caracas to the international ground to learn all the information and material that I am sharing with you. The most personal tips along with world class drills that took me from a normal level all the way to the top. My mission is to take you to places above your imagination and my program is the right place to make it happen.

I want to talk about what my program means to me as we come to an end. It seems like a portion of my heart is being put into the game I love; it's not just a series of workouts or drills. My way of sharing what I've learned—sweat, tears, and moments of unadulterated joy—on the field is through this program. It's about character development, lifelong friendships, and creating memories—it's about more than just playing soccer. I want to be more than simply a coach via this program; I want to be a friend, a mentor, and someone who will always believe in you, even if you don't believe in yourself. So, let's put on our boots and take the world by storm, one kick at a time.

[christiansanford]

Christian Sanford: A Visionary Leader at the Intersection of Business and Athletics

Meet Christian Sanford, a remarkable individual whose life is a testament to the harmonious integration of business acumen and athletic prowess. As the Founder and CEO of SMBee, a dynamic enterprise based in the vibrant city of Dallas, Texas, Christian has emerged as a visionary leader, leaving an indelible mark on both the corporate and athletic landscapes.

SMBee, under Christian's guidance, has become a beacon of innovation and success in the business world. Christian Sanford's strategic vision and dedication to excellence have propelled the company to new heights, making it a prominent player in its industry. His commitment to fostering a culture of creativity and collaboration has not only defined the ethos of SMBee but has also positioned the company as a trailblazer in its field.

Beyond the boardroom, Christian Sanford is a force to be reckoned with in the realm of athletics. His passion for sports and commitment to a healthy lifestyle shine through in every aspect of his life. Whether he's participating in competitive sports or engaging in fitness activities, Christian embodies the principles of discipline and determination.

Christian Sanford's journey is a story of balance and synergy. He seamlessly blends the worlds of business and athletics, recognizing the symbiotic relationship between a strong mind and a healthy body. This holistic approach to life is reflected in his leadership style, where he encourages his team at SMBee to embrace a well-rounded lifestyle that fosters personal and professional growth.

Christian's success is not just measured by financial achievements but also by the positive impact he has on the lives of those around him. He serves as an inspiration to aspiring entrepreneurs and athletes alike, proving that with dedication, resilience, and a passion for what you do, you can excel in multiple domains.

In the bustling metropolis of Dallas, Texas, Christian Sanford stands out as a dynamic and multifaceted individual who has successfully navigated the intricate intersection of business and athletics. His story is one of triumph over challenges, a testament to the power of perseverance, and a source of inspiration for those who aim to make their mark in diverse fields. Christian Sanford is not just a CEO; he's a symbol of achievement, resilience, and the endless possibilities that come with embracing a life of passion and purpose.

[nicohischier]

lets talk about tyler seguin brainrot because like he had triumph and tragedy very early on and then he was the party boy who everybody wagged their finger at and then once he finally decide to settle down and take everything seriously the guy hes soulbound himself to in the early days went the opposite of growth and turned into a asshole werido so now HE's suppose to be the adult who drags them to success

man are you the same person who asked me about the nolpat brain rot and the mtkachuk brain rot or are there just multiple people on this website that like seeing me spiral via essay? but yeah okay i can do segs brain rot. and i won't even write an essay this time. mostly. i lied.

but yeah okay. tyler drafted 2nd overall in 2010 to the bruins, a team that only had that pick because they got it from toronto. in reality, the bruins never should have picked that high because they had just come off a season where they made it to the second round of playoffs. of the top 15 picks in that draft, he had the best chance of winning a cup soon. and he did. 74 games in the season, 13 games in playoffs, a seven game finals series, and a stanley cup ring. then two more seasons under his belt, and he even made it back to the finals in 2013, but they lost six to chicago. and then things started to fall apart. boston trades him to dallas and the rumours and speculations follow him, saying he would rather party than practice and doubting his dedication to his team and it's just a really bad look when a team dumps a SOA after only three years, after winning a cup with him, after making it to the finals twice with him. bad look. but it's okay. he comes to dallas and the team help him build a home here and he finds a best friend in this guy who is about to become his captain too. something in dallas clearly clicked a switch in his brain, because he started playing beautiful hockey and his name and jamies are being tossed around together like crosby and malkin, and kane and toews, and ovechkin and backstrom. they were supposed to be winners together. supposed to make history, together. but dallas isn't like boston and they don't win immediately but it's fine because they're building something great still and tyler is willing to wait for that. he wants to win here too. he grows into himself as a person and as a leader and he eventually gets an A and he looks after rookies on and off the ice and he helps them avoid the same mistakes he made when he was just a kid with too much money and the world at his fingertips and dallas stars getting better and making deeper runs and then its 2020 and hes finally back. tyler seguin and the stanley cup finals meet once again. and tyler is the guy they're turning to for advice because he's the only guy who has been to the finals more than once in his career and he has a cup and there's not many other guys on the team who have that either. and they lose in six. and now its 2023 and a lot has changed. aside from jamie, he's been on the team the longest. and it's game three of the western conference finals and the captain just took a stupid penalty and got himself ejected from the game and everything falls apart again. the game goes to shit and they're down 3-0 in the series and jamie is suspended for two games but. but. they win those two games. they win and they win and then jamie is back and. they lose. 6-0. and his season ends in may.

[dawnilith]

Community-building Tag Game

Tagged by: @peaceful-roadkill

Name: Dawn, Dawnilith, silly lil ding dong seal

Pronouns: they them

Where do you call home?

Im from the texas coast but currently ive enjoyed living in the dallas area and its been my home for a long time

Favorite animal:

Orca, manta rays, cephalopods, seals a lotta marine life rly lol

Cereal of choice:

Trix cereal

Are you a visual auditory or kinesthetic learner?

Def a visual learner its hard for me learn new things if im not being shown how

First pet:

Im gonna instead go with the most memorable pets i had which was two weenie dogs hannah and susie, me and my sister loved them a lot

Favorite scent:

Petrichor, the smell of gummy candy, breakfast tacos, and the scent of someone when i get to cuddle them

Do you believe in astrology?

I try not to believe in it too much cus its just for funsies but i do enjoy talkin and hearing abt it

How many playlists do you have on Spotify/apple music?

Majority of my music i listen to are mp3 files downloaded to my phone, i have a lotta playlists on there too, mostly of putting all of an artists stuff into one playlist, or my calm down playlist

Sharpies or highlighters?

Hmm i did learn recently how useful highlighters can be for drawing but i was more accustomed to using sharpies for inking/coloring

A song that makes you cry:

Ancestress -Björk, winter melody -donna summer; this womans work, all the love, mrs.bartolozzi, a coral room, and dream of sheep - kate bush, tokyo sunrise -LP, crazy world -WALLA, as the world caves in -matt maltese, kimono beat -seiko matsuda

A song that makes you happy:

Try me i know we can make it, happily ever after -donna summer, love and anger -kate bush, clouds -prince, birthday, who is it, big time sensuality, cocoon, in the musicals, ovule, allow, triumph of a heart -björk

And finally what do you write/draw/create? If so use this as an opportunity to shamelessly(😉) promote yourself!

I enjoy drawing my many burly queer oc's and i post them on my art blog! @dawns-art-blog and also on twitter @dawnilith

Nominations: @dantelupine @daybydayartwork @gr-74 @nikodavisflores @thermav and whoever else im mutuals with/wants to

[biggoldbelt]

TNA Genesis 2025 Full Preview – TNA Wrestling

TNA Genesis 2025 Full Preview Preview / January 18, 2025 / by TNA Wrestling Staff [embedded content][embedded content] Watch on TNA+ Get tickets THIS SUNDAY at 8pm ET, TNA Wrestling presents Genesis LIVE on pay-per-view from the Curtis Culwell Center in Dallas, Texas. Tickets are on-sale now at curtisculwellcenter.com. At Final Resolution, global phenomenon Joe Hendry triumphed over Josh…

[a2zsportsnews]

TNA Genesis 2025 Full Preview – TNA Wrestling

TNA Genesis 2025 Full Preview Preview / January 18, 2025 / by TNA Wrestling Staff Watch on TNA+ Get tickets THIS SUNDAY at 8pm ET, TNA Wrestling presents Genesis LIVE on pay-per-view from the Curtis Culwell Center in Dallas, Texas. Tickets are on-sale now at curtisculwellcenter.com. At Final Resolution, global phenomenon Joe Hendry triumphed over Josh Alexander, Mike Santana and Steve Maclin in…