#bo clues

[boburnhamhistorian]

Hi, everyone!

Well, it's been another fun week with the New York Times crossword puzzles. Let's see what Bo references you all can find! 👀

Thursday had a classic Bo term, TRULY, featured in the mini puzzle.

Here's my favorite poem from Egghead that has two instances of that word 🥺

And Friday's main puzzle included a clue that's also the name of a podcast Bo appeared on in 2016: IF I WERE YOU

If you are a Bo fan and you've somehow missed out on this gem, please at least watch the best segment that always leaves me cackling—Dangrin's Baton.

The other two parts, Fin Dom and Bro Job, are also amazing, but nothing beats Bo saying "Oh, Dangrin. There's batons all over the yard this season!" Lol

I'll have more crossword fun for today and tomorrow's puzzles. And please let me know if I've missed any Bo references! ✌🏼

[ohbo-ohno]

idk if any of you have peacock/have seen ads for their show "teacup" but i can't stop thinking of smth similar with ghost (entirely unedited)

like, you buy a house out in the middle of nowhere - maybe a cabin, just to get away from society a bit. and you say you won't stay for long, but then you get used to things, start enjoying the peace and quiet you get away from all other human life, and you just... stay.

and then one day you go outside, and there's a giant spray painted ring around your house - enough for you to walk a bit but not so much that you can reach your garden. and there's a man standing maybe fifteen feet past the line, wearing a mask that covers his face, but clearly just staring at you. he's massive, casts a shadow that crosses over the line, but almost unnaturally still.

he tells you that he won't cross the line, that everything past it is still yours and safe. but if you cross the line in any way, you're his. the fact that you won't last long without food from your garden isn't something that needs to be said, you're already taking stock of the food inside your pantry.

you'd gotten comfortable out here in the wilderness, with your garden producing everything you could want. you never got into canning - bought a book on it, but never even cracked the spine. it's so much work, and you were perfectly happy with going to the garden before dinner and throwing something together with what you could get.

but now you're stuck. you see the man outside your window sometimes, walking around and around and around the circle, never passing it. every room in your house has a window, and there are days where you feel like he's following you, every time you glance outside he's just there.

you don't see him at night. you have no idea where he goes - god knows if he ever sleeps, you're not sure if he's even human - but you can't see him in the dark. the light from your windows doesn't stretch to the line, and the moon isn't enough to make him visible. once the sun goes down, he's just gone.

that's what gives you the nerve to step outside one night, long after it's gotten dark. you're hardly breathing as you tip-toe towards the line, eyes trained on your poor neglected garden - it's been several days since he first arrived, and no one has tended to your poor food. you're not even sure what you'll be able to get, if he's really gone.

he seems to be, or at the very least you certainly can't see him when you stop right at the edge of the line and look around. your flashlight illuminates the edge of the forest as you scan the trees, the circle of light smaller than you'd like. there's nothing.

you stand there for several more minutes, just staring at the food only a few feet out of reach. there's plenty of food that you know has already gone to waste, but you're hoping, praying there's enough to fight off your hunger just a bit, just long enough that you can think past the ache in your stomach long enough to attempt a plan.

(you'd been unable to think the first 24 hours, a creature of panic and nothing more. by the time you'd calmed even a bit, you'd been so hungry you could hardly breathe, then gotten sucked back into your panic after one look at your barren pantry. why had you never bothered to save food?)

your first step over the line feels like a crime. you almost squeeze your eyes shut just to wait for something to happen, but you force yourself to keep your flashlight active, not letting your eyes settle as you scan the forest again and again.

each step feels like you're stepping on glass, heart in your throat. it's dead silent in a way you've come to know the forest never is. the only thing keeping you from darting back inside is the desperate, animal need to eat.

you fall to your knees at the edge of your garden, plucking as many cherry tomatoes from the vine as you can, shoveling them in your mouth without even checking for bugs. there's nothing here but you and then man in the forest.

they burst on your tongue, cold and juicy and tangy and delicious. you feel delirious, having gone more than three days without eating by this point. the tomatoes could be spoiling on the vine, dotted with rot, and you'd still savor them like they're nectar.

you drop your flashlight after the first mouthful, desperate to use two hands and grab as many of the fruits as possible. the light illuminate just a small section of the trees ahead of you, blades of grass casting high shadows.

you only notice how much you've lost focus when the flashlight flickers off next to you. you can't move for a moment, juice dripping down your chin, paralyzed at the thought that he's somehow snuck up on you, made it to your side and taken your only light.

but he's not by you, you're still alone. you can feel it acutely, some instinct at the back of your head saying predator near, hide but not screaming in the way it had on that first day, when you'd been closest to him.

still, you're on your feet in the next moment, fruit abandoned in the dirt as you sprint back to your cottage. your not far from the circle, just mere feet, but it feels like an insurmountable distance.

you can feel him, he's right there you know it. the forest is quiet, the only sound the crunch of grass beneath your feet and your heavy breaths, but you swear you can hear his voice echoing in your head. not an inch past that line, love. then you're mine.

it's not a surprise when you're tackled to the ground, not really. still, you scream, tomatoes already churning in your gut and bile gathering in your mouth. your nails claw desperately at the colored grass, so fucking close to your safe haven, your cage.

"got you," he hisses over your shoulder, so heavy over you that you can hardly get in a breath. you scream soundlessly, face contorted in tear as you break your nails in your desperate digging. "you're mine."

the lights from your cottage seem like hardly more than the flame at the end of a matchstick as you're dragged away, your strength nothing compared to his as you're taken further and further from the safe haven he'd allowed you. by the time you hit the tree line, you don't have the energy to even try to scream.

[anonymous-bastard]

John walked down the staircase from the manor to the Batcave, his uniform construct dissolving into green mist.

Hal was definitely here; John could feel the faint pulse of his ring press against his mind.

He looked around to see if he could spot Duke in the cave.

( @hallsjordanss @irl-batsignal & any Bat who feels like hanging out the cave this specific moment I don't want to spam tag.)

[daily-oliver-swift]

I like these two a normal amount

Day 54 of drawing Oliver Swift everyday until I get on HRT

[salty-aivia]

MY BELOVED HAG 💚💚💚💚

I JUST LOVE HIM OKAY he's my babygirl my dead wife

I haven't drawn in like 2 years so i struggled w rendering a little bit but i think it looks okay!!

[fluffy-little-demon]

Birthday Love

Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

Fluffy birthday thingy I wrote for myself with a bit of implied smut at the end I love this gif 💕

The sun coming through the curtains, filling the room woke you up. In an attempt to ignore it you turned to go back to sleep only to find you were alone in bed. You let out a small grumpy noise but decide to get out of bed anyway. With half closed eyes you grab your husband's t shirt off the floor and make your way downstairs.

Once you were downstairs and in the kitchen, you see Bo standing over the stove in nothing but boxers. You were more awake now, Bo saw you before you had the chance to speak.

"Yer supposed to be in bed baby doll" wagging the spatula at you.

You went to wrap your arms around him from behind nuzzling your face into his back a little. "I'm sorry bunny, the bed felt empty without you. I could go back upstairs if you want."

"It's alright darlin, we can just eat down here. Go sit down baby." With a kiss on the head you go sit on the couch. You didn't turn the tv on like you normally did, instead you turned to watch your favourite cooking show.

Couple minutes later Bo came over with a tray holding a cup of tea, a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, waffles and a card.

"Thank you baby, this looks delicious."

"After you've eaten I can give you one of your presents."

"Oh you mean that thing you do with your tongue." Raising a eyebrow

"You know it baby" winks and smirks in a playful way.

You kiss the tip of his nose "Sounds like a plan"

"Happy birthday darlin" Bo says as he pulls you in for a very passionate kiss.

[katieshook02]

i don’t even know where to begin

[greer-theartist]

Living in the Future

digital painting time lapse

[big-city-times]

teah

[slaasherslut]

Introducing the new 2023 Magic the Gathering set, Brothers of Wax! This new set comes loaded with your favourite villains and victims, and also includes 3 new commander decks!

Bo Sinclair, The Guardian: Bo is a deadly combination of swamp and mountain. Being the eldest, He must defend his tribe of brothers from outsiders. With every death he gets stronger and more powerful. Partner him up with his twin brother Vincent Sinclair, The Wax Artist.

Lester Sinclair, The Hunter: Once Lester is on the field, there's no stopping this odd forest hunter from collecting squirrel tokens to create a woodsy horde of adorable critters! Or sacrifice them for the greater good for mana ramp. Build up your life total with lifelink to outlive your opponents.

Vincent Sinclair, The Wax Artist: Vincent and his deck of swamp and mountain creatures do what barbarians do best, causing your opponents to discard cards as well as creating an army of terrifying wax sculptures who will obey your every command. Partner him up with his twin brother Bo Sinclair, The Guardian.

[anarchotolkienist]

I must say that the main thing that has caused me to despair of the Left is that I have come to see the question of Fascism and of anti-Semitism increasingly seriously as time goes on, and to view them as some of the defining questions of history and of modernity. If you do that it becomes very clear how woefully inadequately these things are understood, and just how unimportant the broad Left views them as.

[itoastedatoaster]

I've participated in @bobovember again this year! Decided to take a sketch-focused direction with it this time around and it really made the experience more fun for me :)

Here're my drawings for the first 5 prompts: New Day, Utter Bliss, Fruit, Technology/Gadget, and Gothic!

~ Commission Sheet | Ko-Fi ~

[kyohaku-kannen]

Eeeh it was a little tempting and I need to actually write something. I guess I ended up making a Wukong x Yandere Reader story? I'll probably throw up the first chapter a little later. I'm still trying to figure out how to use AO3, cuz I act like a boomer and haven't posted anything outside of Tumblr in a while year-

Aah I can't write for crap-

[keemeekaal]

💛 QUIET EMOTIONAL IS NOT USELESS ;)

QEINU #006 ★ johnny and mary | Robert Palmer & @ouibo-repris

● Clues. 1980

@happy--to--see

[jenhoneys]

thinking about how—if the mandalorian was a differently written show—the armorer asking (i.e, telling) bo to take off her helmet in an effort to unite the old world and the new world would be the writers planting the seed for the reverse to happen, and for bo to ask (or tell) the armorer to remove her helmet when welcoming their new, joint age.

[eveningserenityyy]

I actually like that the mandalorian s3 gives us a character who can ultimately decide he isn’t a leader nor ready for that. He doesn’t want to be. That’s okay. And he certainly doesn’t have to be in the name of character development as people argue. He’s just a dude- he’s become a father, THAT is the development, and it’s still continuous in how he’s going to navigate that life post finale. They have their house and he’s officially his son, what’s so wrong with that???