#it took me a solid 30 sec to figure out how what I said was rude kdbdkfn

[a-concert-just-for-me]

my sister was not impressed with my observation

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 10: The Perfect Gift”

Part 10 is here! Not gonna lie, this chapter is short and not my best work but a necessary bridge to get to the climax of our story! Fair warning, it ends on a cliffhanger. Enjoy! ❤️ 

It was the Tuesday after the dramatic Carisi lunch. You typically had Mondays off from the gallery and after fucking Rafael senseless in front of the fireplace, it didn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to play hooky. The majority of your day was spent in bed— making love, browsing through Netflix, and eating Chinese takeout. It was a much needed escape from your chaotic lives and you still had a few more hours before reality set in. 

The brilliant warm rays of the early morning sun peeked through your curtains. You languorously stretched your limbs, reveling in the sensation of your bare legs against the soft cotton sheets. With a long, drawn out yawn, you reached over to the nightstand for your cup of coffee and aimlessly flipped through a copy of the New Yorker. However your attention was otherwise preoccupied with a freshly showered Rafael walking around your bedroom with a towel hanging low around his hips. You nearly spilled your hot drink into your lap while counting the water droplets on Rafael’s bare chest, watching one droplet slide down his stomach towards his happy trail.

He let the towel drop to the floor and began to get dressed for work, arching his brow when he caught you perched on the edge of the bed staring at him with your jaw hanging wide open. 

You blushed and cleared your throat. “Are you sure I can’t make you breakfast?”

“Thanks for the offer but I should try to get to the office early,” he said, holding up two ties for you to choose from.

You picked the silk violet tie. The purple hue brought out your boyfriend’s brilliant green eyes. “Ok, but promise me that you’ll eat something other than the stale pretzels at the precinct.”

“I promise.” Rafael gave you a quick peck on the lips and wrapped his tie around his neck when he realized that he was missing a key element to his wardrobe. “Where’s my shirt? I swore it was right here a min—” His search for the missing shirt came to a screeching halt when he noticed you were wearing it.

“Sorry babe.” A nervous giggle escaped your lips. “Who knew Armani made such comfortable clothes and besides I love how it smells.”

Rafael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “How it smells?”

“Uh huh.” Your cheeks turned bright pink and you nervously fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “It smells like you.”

An warm, fuzzy feeling coursed through Rafael’s veins at your confession. He cupped your face and tenderly kissed you before pulling away. “If you love the shirt so much, then it’s yours.”

“Really?” You glanced down at his undershirt and the tie draped around his neck. “But what are you gonna wear?”

“I have a spare shirt in my office that I keep in case of emergency coffee stains.”

You beamed brightly and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Best boyfriend ever,” you murmured against his lips before kissing him.

He deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue as his hands inched further down your back towards your ass. You moaned in response, feeling him squeeze your cheeks.

“Mi amor,” he said between kisses. “I have to go.”

 “No. Five more minutes. Please,” you whined, pressing your body against his.

Rafael groaned, all the blood from his brain rushing towards his cock. You were playing a dangerous game. “If we keep this up in five more minutes I’m going to be between your legs, fucking you so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”

You nuzzled against his neck as your hand began to palm his growing erection. “Well they do say that testosterone is higher in the morning. Care to put that theory to the test?” 

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.

With a sigh of defeat, you stopped. “Alright, can’t blame a girl for trying.” You planted one last chaste kiss on the tip of his nose and gently pushed him towards the door. “Go on. Get outta here.”

 “I’ll see you later tonight.” He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom only to return 30 seconds later. “I forgot something.”

“What did you—” Rafael cut you off with a passionate kiss causing you both to fall back on the bed.  Your heart fluttered. You were so lost in the moment that you forgot how to breathe. You could taste him on your tongue. All too soon the kiss ended and you were left dazed with thoroughly soaked panties.

“I love you,” he purred and playfully nipped on your lower lip before leaving with a smug smile firmly planted on his face.

“Love you too,” you mumbled and held up the shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply. 

*****

A few hours later you were sitting in the small studio at the back of the gallery, dotting leaves onto a canvas. You skipped to the next song on your playlist and stepped back to analyze your work. The painting was of a large, vibrant tree in the center of a grey, bleak city. The tree was designed to look like Rafael. Its leaves matched the color of his eyes. Of course it wasn’t typical for trees to have seafoam green leaves but that was the beauty of art. You even tried to sketch his face in the trunk, its bark resembling his crooked smile and strong aquiline nose. 

Underneath the tree stood the shadowy figure of a woman meant to be you. The tree’s branches were outstretched, gently caressing you, comforting you. In the palms of your hands, you cradled your heart, offering it to the tree as the only possession you had to give. In your opinion, it was the perfect depiction of your relationship. Rafael was your protector. With him, you felt loved, safe, hopeful for the future. He symbolized a new chapter in your life.

Your “Rafael-inspired” piece was meant to be a surprise, since the elusive search for the perfect art for his home was still ongoing. Lucky for him, inspiration struck one rainy Saturday several weeks ago. Well, lazy for you. Rafael was busy typing away on his laptop. Snuggling against him with the rain pattering against the window, a flood of emotions washed over you. The next day you woke up before dawn, grabbed your brushes and paint and snuck over to the studio.

From above the sound of your music playing through your headphones, you heard the door open and turned your head to see your coworker, Phoebe, walk in.

“Bonjour, ma petite aubergine!” she said in a tone that was way too chipper for 8:30 in the morning. 

You snorted a laugh and turned off your music. “Good morning, my little eggplant?” you repeated the phrase.

“I love eggplant,” she replied with a shrug and went to stand behind you, surveying your work. “Hmmm… I like it.”

You made a face. “You sure? It’s not too cheesy?”

She hemmed and hawed for a moment before answering. “A little, but that’s ok. It's the good kind of cheesy.”

A sigh below past your lips. “You sure?”

“Absolutely,” she tried to reassure you. “And anyways, love makes people cheesy.” You blushed and went back to your painting while she milled around the room looking at your other pieces. “Ya’ know, there’s a new artist night at this gallery my friend works for. You should reach out to them. See if they’ll let you show your art. There are enough pieces here to choose from.” You opened your mouth to speak but she cut you off. “And before you say anything, I don’t wanna hear any excuses.” She gently took you by the shoulders and made you stand to face her. “You are incredibly talented and you should share that talent with the world while making a few bucks in the process.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you conceded, glancing back at your unfinished canvas.

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “I am? I mean, of course I am! Damn, this is the first time I’ve ever heard you consider doing a show. That Rafael guy must be a good influence on you.”

“Yeah, he’s the best.” You smiled, thinking back to earlier that morning. 

“Speaking of which,”—she grabbed a spare chair and sat down, getting comfortable—“how did the whole ‘meet the parents’ scenario play out?”

You threw your head back and groaned. “Ugh, why did you have to remind me?”

“Uh-oh. Sounds like we’re gonna need coffee.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m gonna get a cappuccino from the cafe around the corner. Can I get you something?”

“An Americano and a cinnamon roll.”

“Be back in a flash. I wanna hear all about it. Family drama sustains me, especially when it’s not mine,” she teased before leaving.

You rolled your eyes and began to tidy up. While you stood at the sink, cleaning your brushes, watching the colors swirl and dissolve down the drain, you wondered if Rafael would like his surprise. You hoped he would. It took you hours to get just the right shade of green. 

This gift was a big deal. Apart from your parents, you had never created a piece for anyone else. Your art was private. It was personal. Giving it away was like giving away a part of you. But you and Rafael were beyond that. This past weekend only confirmed what you had known from the moment he stepped into the gallery— that you were his, completely.

The sound of the door opening snapped you out of reverie. “That was fast, Phoebe,” you said over the running water. “I guess the cute barista wasn’t working today cause normally you spend a solid twenty minutes flirting before actually ordering your drink. I’m almost finished here. Give me a sec and then I can tell you about the worst Sunday lunch in the history of the Carisi family and that includes the time my Aunt Anita stabbed my Uncle Tony with a fork. ”

“Awww c’mon, babe. It wasn’t that bad,” said a voice that you recognized all too well. 

Stunned, your hands froze, the brushes clanging against the sink. “This can’t be happening. Please, God don’t let it be him,” you thought, slowly turning around only to find your ex-fiancé standing right in the middle of your studio. 

“Theo,” you stammered. “What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question and took a step towards you with a sinister smile that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

Tag List: @glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @mgarner1227​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @youreverycolor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @imagine-all-the-imagines​ @imjustreallynosy​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613​ @mysterioustrashadventures​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @scapricciatello​ @mrsrafaelbarba​ @zizzlekwum​ @katierpblogg​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @caked-crusader​ @garturbo​ @rachelxwayne​

[jamesashtonisbae]

She Sets the City on Fire Part 4

She Sets the City on Fire Part 4

Word Count: 1408

Pairing: Logan x MC; Colt x MC 

Book: Ride or Die

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Probably swearing

Summary: Aleigha is a good girl gone bad.  She’s going to try to keep both parts of herself.  

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, Pixelberry studios does!

Author’s Note: This flew off my fingers and is one of my favorite ideas I’ve had.  I love good girl gone bad Aleigha. 

Tagging: @desiree---1986 because she is my ROD encourager. Also @brightpinkpeppercorn and @princessstellaris because 100 years ago (June or July) when I wrote a Logan x MC fic they were so kind to comment and ask to be put on a tag list! And @mskaneko and @mindlesschicca and @lovemychoices! And my best reader @burnsoslow!

Aleigha rolled over into the sunbeam streaking through Logan’s windows.  She turned her face into her pillow.  Logan sighed softly and rolled back over to take her in his arms.

“Lo, I have to go.  I’m surprised that no one has come and gotten you yet.  Logan, I love you and I want to spend every single second with you, but I can’t do that if you’re in jail.  Tell me where your car is and we’ll go.”

As she was saying that to him, she jumped out of bed and grabbed her clothes.  She was tugging on her pants when Logan grabbed her wrist.

“Aleigha, I can’t let you go.”

“I’m not the one going.  I have to let you go.  I don’t want to, but I love you and I know if I love you I have to let you go.”

He leaned down and kissed her, “I’ll never forget you, Leigh.”

“I know you won’t.  This isn’t goodbye forever.  Now let’s go.”

She leaned down and grabbed the shirt he had been wearing and threw it on.  He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow, “What am I supposed to wear?”

She laughed, “My shirt?”

He cracked up and kissed her, “I think I have an extra shirt I can grab.  One sec.”

“Okay, but I want to keep this one.  It still smells like you.”

He had walked into the bathroom to throw some things in a bag, but he turned back to look out at her.  They exchanged an entire conversation in that one glance.  There was fear, there was love, there was joy, there was excitement, there was sadness.  Every feeling came from the knowledge that there wouldn’t be any moments after this one.  Not for a long time.

She gathered her clothes and grabbed her keys, calling out to Logan, “Let’s go.  Now.”

He picked up his duffel bag, and said, “I have to take the key back to the lobby.”

“Logan, we don’t have time.  What are they going to do to you?  You paid in cash, you used a fake name, just leave the door unlocked with the key in here on the dresser and they’ll find it when they come to clean it.  We have to go, now.”

“Aleigha, it’s fine.”

“Logan!  You don’t understand, I’m being followed.”

“Aleigha.  Don’t worry.”

“Why are you so calm about this?”

“I have been on the run my whole life, I’m not going to get caught.”

“Logan, you cannot get cocky.  We cannot get too cocky.”

“I’m not, Leigh.  I’m ready.”

She sighed, “Okay.  Can we please go, though?”

“Why don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“Logan, I have another race tonight.  I have three assignments to finish for Monday.  If I could just spend my life riding around in a car with you, I probably would.  But that’s not our reality.  When it is, then you can ask me that question.  But right now, it’s not a want thing, okay?”

She reached for the doorknob, but hesitated when she didn’t hear a response.  When she turned around, Logan was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.  As impatient as she was, she threw a quick glance out to see if there were any strange cars, and when she was satisfied that there weren’t, she sat back down next to Logan.

Without hesitation, she took him into her arms and held him gently.  Tears were streaming down his face, and soon they were both crying.  Aleigha gently took his face in her hands and turned him to make eye contact with her.

“Logan…” she kissed him gently, “You cannot break down.  Or I will too.”

He sighed softly, “Aleigha.  I have nothing in life without you.”

Her heart broke for him.  She knew he loved her, and she loved him, but she could never fathom just how much he loved her.  She had Colt who loved her, and who she loved in return, and platonically she had so many people in her life.  And she had her dad, regardless of how solid their relationship was, he would always love her.  Logan had her.  And she knew she couldn’t wrap her mind around how much he needed her.  He needed her.

“Logan…” she took his hands in hers.  They kissed softly, and she leaned into him, letting him put all of his weight on her.  “Let’s figure it out then.  You write down my phone number, don’t lose it, and get burners.  We’ll make a plan.  I don’t want to lose you either.”

“I love you, Leigh.”

“I love you, too.”

“I don’t have some beautiful speech to say goodbye to you this time, Leigh,” he sighed, his voice shaking.  He looked down at her, and she remembered when he told her that he was just a rock in space lucky enough to burn up in her atmosphere.  She remembered she was the one who had cried last time, and she had to say, she preferred being the one not crying.

In the back of her mind, she knew they needed to go now or they would have no chance at a future because one of them would be in jail, and she just could not have that. 

Logan collected himself, then looked over at her.  With a sigh, he rose and took her hand, “Let’s get the hell outta Dodge.”

They grabbed each other’s hands and rushed out to her car.  Logan took her phone and punched in an address.  She followed the instructions.  Neither of them spoke.  They couldn’t afford to say anything.  Words were hollow in the moments before a painful goodbye.

So, they didn’t say anything.  She dropped him off at the location, not giving herself the chance to take in where they were.  She deleted the address quickly, then scrubbed her search history.  Her location was already off, it was always off.

Logan reached for the handle and turned to her. 

“Bye, Leigh,” he leaned over and kissed her softly.  They both knew if they took more time to say goodbye, they’d break.

“I’m glad we got a little bit of time together, Logan,” she smiled and kissed him back.

Logan smiled softly but the tear streaming down his cheek betrayed his smile, “I could have a hundred years with you, and it would never be enough.”

“I love you, Logan…” she leaned up and kissed him.  “Please go or I won’t be able to let you.  If I spend another second with you, I’ll fall apart when you go.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand, “I love you, too Leigh.”

“Now go.  Go on.  Get out of here,” she said, shoving him away gently, steeling herself from all of the crying she wanted to do.

“Are you White-Fanging me?” Logan broke the somber moment with a chuckle.  He opened the door and got out, not giving her the chance to respond. 

She leaned her head on her steering wheel as he walked away.  When his car started up and he drove away, she knew because she heard it start up and heard its tires squeal.  Sobs began wracking her body as she clutched the steering wheel tightly. 

Logan brought her into this life.  She found herself when she started driving cars, and Logan was by her side every step of the way.  Without Logan she wouldn’t be the person she was today.  He helped her become more confident, he made her think smarter, not harder like she had her whole life, he taught her how to let go and be free.  Before him, her life was just about school, making grades, and getting into college.  But there was a lot she was missing out on.  Maybe it wasn’t just partying and driving fast cars and making out with hot boys, but maybe it was.

She pulled herself out of it and sat up, knowing she needed to be ready for her race tonight.  Thoughts of Logan would distract her and if she didn’t race well, she wouldn’t get on a crew and her entire plan would fall apart.  She would fall apart.

When she finally collected herself, she noticed the piece of paper under her windshield wiper.  Every part of her knew she shouldn’t get out of her car to grab it, but she did anyway.  She didn’t recognize the writing that had scrawled, “7:30 pm. Roxbury McDonald’s parking lot.”

[winchester-interrupted]

Are You Kidding Me

Prompt: “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Pairing: sam winchester x reader, dean

“Hold on, I think I found something!” you exclaimed, sitting up in your seat and clicking on the link displayed on your laptop screen. It was exactly 3:26 a.m; you and the boys had been sitting in the library researching your latest case. You had all figured you were dealing with a vengeful spirit, so the three of you had been looking into the towns history and scanning through old articles for hours now.

“Yes! Finally,” you sighed as the page finally loaded. You were already on your third cup of coffee if you started counting from 3 a.m and you hadn't slept in exactly 36 hours, so your patience with the slow wifi and faulty laptop was already wearing thin. 

You leaned forward and squinted your eyes to read the article, but what came up was definitely not what you clicked on. Your brows drew together in confusion,

“What? No, not this,” you huffed as you clicked the back button on your laptop. Dean looked up from his book across the room,

“Did you find it?” he questioned. 

“One sec,” you mumbled back, sighing as you clicked the link once more, figuring you might have clicked on the wrong thing. 

But again, the same page as last time came up; something about a local pie eating contest.

“What the fuck!” you cried, quickly getting more and more frustrated. Why wouldn't it pop up?! You were sure you clicked the right one.

Sam raised a brow at you from across the table at your little outburst. 

“Whats going on?” he carefully asked, already sensing the incoming meltdown that he knew had been brewing for quite some time now.

“I’m trying to click on an article I found about this- this suspicious death in the town, but it-” you squinted at the screen yet again, “It keeps pulling up some bullshit about a local pie eating contest!” You exclaimed, running your hands through your hair and dropping them loudly onto the table. 

Sam rose from his seat and came over to you, sitting behind you in your chair and looking over your shoulder at the screen, 

“It’s okay, it happens sometimes. Just try refreshing the page,” he said in a soothing voice. If he sensed it before he had no doubt now that you were on the verge of a meltdown. Despite the boiling rage and exhaustion in the pit of your stomach, you felt slightly better at the comforting presence of Sam behind you and you let yourself lean back into his solid chest.

You took a deep breath and clicked the little round arrow to the right of the search bar. It spun around a few times before refreshing your previous page. 

“Okay good, is that the link you’re trying to read?” Sam asked, pointing to the website on the screen that you had been trying to read for the past 10 minutes. You nodded.

“Alright, so click it one more time and it should pull up the right page this time” he leaned back, allowing space between his legs for you to sit comfortably on the seat in front of him that you were sharing. You took another deep breath and moved the cursor over the blue website and clicked it, silently begging it to work.

When it finally loaded, your face fell after you read the article title,

‘Annual pie eating contest, Traceburg’s very own Martin Stouffer taking the trophy after devouring 11 blueberry pies…’

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you slammed your hands on the table, startling the boys. They weren’t used to seeing you so angry, you were always the calm and composed one - it was very rare that you lost your temper so quickly over something so silly. But it was now 4 o’clock in the morning, you hadn’t slept in god knows how long, you were frustrated, and you had drank way too many cups of coffee than you should have. All you wanted was for this stupid page to load, but of course this had to happen. Of course.

“Whoah,” Dean was staring at you with wide eyes. Sam could feel the anger and tension radiating off of you and watched you drop your head to your hands in defeat.

“Hey hey hey, hold on a second ok? Lets try refreshing the page one more time and see what happens,” Sam spoke again in a voice you’d use to calm down a child having a temper tantrum, feeling you tense up and exhale a shaky breath when he put a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

You stared at the screen for a solid 30 seconds before you moved again, knowing fully well that if this happened one more time you were going to lose your shit. Like really, really lose your shit. Closing your eyes, you drew in a breath and exhaled out a shaky laugh.

“Okay, one more time” you mumbled under your breath. You clicked the little arrow and refreshed your page again, holding your breath as it loaded.

Are you kidding me. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. 

Sure enough, the same article as before came up. 

Both boys watched you with expressions of fear and concern as your face changed from hopeful to absolutely livid, and lastly to a scarily calm but borderline psychotic look in your eyes before you began to quietly laugh.

“Nope, no no no no no,” you whined as your shoulders shook with quiet laughter that started to turn into crying, a single tear rolling down your face. You were fully aware that in this moment you seemed to be the epitome of mental unstability; but your reaction was the product of pure and absolute exhaustion.

“I cant, I cant, I cant.” You slammed your laptop shut in defeat, turning your body with a quiet whimper and burying your face in Sams chest. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back, sharing a knowing look with Dean that you had definitely had enough for the night. 

You felt like such an absolute pathetic mess, whimpering and crying into Sam’s shirt like a toddler over something as small as a website link error. But it wasn’t just this little incident that made you break - it was the accumulation of back to back hunts, and hour of sleep here and there (if you were lucky), and a pain in your rib that hadn’t ebbed since that werewolf in Atlanta threw you into a cement wall a week ago. 

The boys both knew about your sleeping habits; or lack thereof, but hadnt really seen just how much of a toll it had on you. It was clear now though that one; you desperately needed sleep, and two; you needed a break from hunting and researching. You were all exhausted; it had been back to back cases for a while now and the three of you hadn’t caught a break in a long time.

‘She okay?’  Dean mouthed to Sam, who was still holding your slumped figure in his arms and rubbing a hand up and down your back. You had both your legs draped over Sams, your arms clung around his neck and your face still buried in his chest. You still felt humilated behaving like this in front of the boys - in front of Sam especially - but he made you feel safe and he just smelled so good. The feeling of his hands rubbing your back was hugely comforting, not to mention the fact that you were too weak and tired to move. 

After a little while of holding you and rubbing your back, Sam could feel your breathing gradually beginning to slow down and even out. Figuring that it was time for bed, he stood up with you in his arms; being extra careful not to disturb you. He nodded his head at Dean in the direction of the hallway to signal that he was taking you to bed before carrying your sleeping figure down the hall to your room. 

Sam nudged open the door with his foot and walked over to your bed, pulling down the sheets and comforter with one arm. As gently as he possibly could, he lowered you onto the bed. 

You scrunched your brows together in confusion, rolling onto your side and mumbling something before Sam could leave the room.

He froze in his tracks upon hearing your voice and turning in your doorway to look at you, he could have sworn he had heard you say something. Not wanting to leave incase you needed something, he walked a few steps closer, straining his ears to hear if you’d speak up again.  

With your face still buried in your pillow you repeated yourself, only a little clearer this time.

“Stay, please.” you mumbled softly. 

This time Sam had heard you. He hesitated, watching you carefully and deciphering whether or not he should stay or go back to the library and keep researching. 

His lip quirked up a little at the way your cheek was smushed against your pillow and the way you were lying on your stomach with one leg straight and the other wrapped around the pillow.

Huh, Sam thought. I’ve never envied a pillow before until now. 

He knew he should go back and help Dean, but there was something about the way you looked all cozy in his grey hoodie with your arm draped over your pillow and your soft curls splayed out around the pillow that made him cave and climb into bed beside you. Feeling the weight shift in the bed, you rolled over towards his open arms with a lazy smile as you cuddled into his chest and fell back asleep. He was happy that you were finally getting some rest; even happier that he was able to help you. 

He reached up and tucked a stray curl behind your ear and softly kissed your forehead,

“Sweet dreams, beautiful”.

[spideymood]

Password Secret - Tom Holland

Pairings: tom holland x reader

Synopsis: A special late-night phone call escalated into something completely different.

Prompt: "Why is that your password".

Word count: A solid 2.3k

Author's note: So I just got back from Estonia with my orchestra, and I'm finally writing again! sorry for the long breaks. Anyway, this is for @noir-spiderr 's 3k Writing Challenge.

Warnings: Hmm, a lot of dialogue. And probably crappy writing...and a lot of strong language and curse words.

masterlist

· • ●· • ●· • ●

"Ah shit!" a stressed Tom Holland shouted. "My wifi-connection just disappeared."

" Fuck, I really need the script for my call with Rachel." The brit glanced at his phone in disbelief.

"Why don't you use mobile data?" Harrison, his blue-eyed best friend suggested.

The two mates currently sat at a cafe in Singapore, hiding from the press. In the process of hiding, Tom remembered that he had a phone call with one of the producers of the next film he was cast in, Beneath A Scarlet Sky. He was supposed to discuss the script and dates for principal photography with the producer.

"Another country my mobile data network doesn't work. I can only call people." Tom put his phone on the table as he took a sip from his iced tea from the cafe. "Can I borrow your phone?"

"Sorry. You know I never bring my phone if we're only going out eating lunch. Besides, what's the problem, haven't you already read the script before?" Harrison excused.

"Err, I might have or not read the script..."

"What the fuck Tom?" Harrison said in disbelief. "I literally gave you the script in paper-version two weeks ago, you div."

"I know. I've just been so, ehm, so busy lately. I kinda forgot it." The heat from the big city made it hard for Tom to not sweat. Due to the current situation, Tom couldn't stop thinking of potentially lose the part in the movie. "Fuck. Rachel's gonna call soon."

The hot weather in the south-west Asian country was a big contrast to the weather in England. He had spent the last days of break, before going on a press tour, with his friends and family.

"Ah shit, I even forgot to transfer the script to my google docs. It's in my Mac...in London." As the problem couldn't get worse, he would have no access to the script even if he found a place with free wifi.

"You're such an idiot Tom." Harrison sighed.

"Hey, you're the PA. Shouldn't you help me out with stuff like this?" Tom asked while trying to figure out a plan.

"Man, I only came with you since I wanted a vacation. I left all my stuff at the hotel - which is 30 minutes walk away," he answered as he took a long sip of iced coffee. "But if the script is at home, maybe we can get someone to log in on your Mac and send it to you?"

"Haz! That's a great idea!" Tom exclaimed, getting a little faith. "What the hell, man. When did you become so smart?"

"You dickhead! I've always been the smarter one." Harrison replied as he laughed.

"Who should I call? The twins are out of town, mum and dad are visiting my aunt." Tom listed up all possible people who could help him out.

Tom's eyes widened. "Fuck. The only person who lives close and is possibly available is Y/N."

"Y/N Y/L/N?! Our neighbour Y/N?" Harrison looked at Tom as if he was crazy.

"Do you even have her number? If so, when and how did you get the guts to ask for her number?" Harrison mocked.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Tom replied sarcastically. "She actually gave me her number after I helped her out once."

"What are you waiting for?" His best mate asked. "You've got approximately twenty minutes before Rachel calls!" Harrison questioned.

Tom took the clue and dialled your number. He put the phone by his ear as he waited for a response.

· • ●· • ●· • ●

When you gave Tom Holland your number, you never imagined he would call you in the middle of the night.

It had been a tiring day and all you wanted was to get a good night's sleep. Unfortunately, one British guy was in the way of your wish.

As the loud sound from your phone signalized that someone called, you couldn't help but groan. You checked the clock. Three o'clock in the morning. Freaking three o'clock.

"What the hell?" you mumbled as you stretched your hand to pick up your phone. An unknown number appeared on the display.

You had two choices. Pick up the phone and realize someone was calling the wrong number, or not picking up at all. On autopilot, you answered the call before thinking furthermore. "Hello?"

"Is this Y/N Y/L/N?" a British voice said. The voice seemed familiar, but you couldn't guess which person it was.

"Uh yes. Who's this?"

"Hi, uh, Y/N! It's Tom. Y'know. Neighbour Tom. The one who lives in the apartment across the hall?" Tom rambled as you tried to process everything he said.

"What the hell, Tom? It's three in the morning!" you groaned.

Tom went silent. He was so stressed out by the situation that he forgot there were different time zones. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry, love. It's just...um...I need your help."

"What can I do for you, maybe ruin someone else's beauty sleep?" You snapped. When you were tired and sleepy, you tended to become sassy. Immediately as you said it, you regretted it. Tom probably had a good excuse to call you. "Sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm just very tired I guess."

"No no no, it's my fault." Tom nervously answered. "So, I need you to break into my apartment and email me a script for an upcoming movie."

"Tom, what the fuck?" you replied shocked. "You sure I'm not dreaming? Is this a prank or something?"

"I wish it was only a prank. 'M sorry, but I need that script, and you're the only one I know that can send it to me on the little time I have." Tom excused.

Tom said desperately. "Or else I'll lose the part, which I really don't want to."

You took a deep breath before answering. "Okay, I'll do it. You did me a favour once, it's my time to pay. Tell me how to break into your apartment."

· • ●· • ●· • ●

Tom let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you thank you so much! You're an angel!" Harrison eyed his best mate suspicious. The two-minutes long phone call was the longest conversation Tom had ever had with Y/N, as far as Harrison knew.

"Well, you're not exactly breaking into my apartment. Just pick up the keys hidden behind the nearest lamp." Tom described as he waited for a response. "Y'know, the one lamp that flashes all the time."

"I just need to get dressed, wait a sec." was all he heard from the other side of the line.

You opened your door, on the way to do the special favour. "When I gave you my number, I never imagined you would call for such favour or even call in the middle of the night too."

"How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry?"

"I don't know? Maybe ten times more?" you answered as you laughed. "Alright, I got the keys. I'm unlocking the door."

"So I have an alarm system. The display for a code will be on your left side. The code is 772017."

"That's a lot of 'sevens' for a code. Is it a date or something? In 2017?" you suggested as you entered the code and turned off the alarm system. "You should consider changing it, y'know. Too many sevens."

"I mean, I see a giant Spider-man Homecoming poster with the premiere date which is oddly alike the code to turn off your alarm system." you continued.

"Well, about tha-"

"-you're a famous actor, you should at least secure your home a little better. I bet the bad guys from Home Alone could break in and steal all your stuff easily," you stated.

"Hey stop judging my security system! And the thieves from Home Alone were good thieves. They were just, uh, dumber than that eleven-year-old kid." Tom said defensively.

You searched through his apartment for his Mac. "Chill I was just joking. But you should consider changing it or something. Some fans of yours could track you down and everything."

"Alright then, darling," Tom said in defeat. Harrison couldn't help but laugh at the scene. He had no idea what the conversation had transferred to, but he couldn't stop but grin. "I think I left my Mac on the kitchen counter. Or wait, maybe it's in my cupboard."

"Why do you have so many Spider-man posters and figurines. Are you that self-obsessed?" you chuckled.

"...no."

"Bingo! Found it." you reached towards the closed computer, as Tom waited on the other line for updates about the situation. "Tom, uh, I need your password."

Tom froze the moment you mentioned 'your' and 'password'. He should have known. His eyes went wide when he realized what his password was. "Wait a sec!" Tom put his call on mute as he let out a stressed sigh. "Shit shit shit. Fucking hell!"

"What?" Harrison asked as he saw the stressed expression on his best mate's face.

"She needs my password."

"Of course she does, you dumbass." Harrison laughed. Tom replied by sending him a death glare. "What? Why is it such a problem?"

"Because, um, oh fuck," Tom exclaimed. "Promise not to laugh, okay." Harrison shrugged as Tom took a deep breath. "It's 'mrs(your name and last name)holland'. That's the password."

"What the hell, Tom." Harrison laughed. "Why is that your password?" He facepalmed as he watched his nerve-wracked friend in a crisis.

"I don't know! I just, I don't know, I needed a password no one would guess!" Tom explained vividly as his best mate cracked up. "Don't you dare laugh, you dickhead."

"You dumbass. What the actual fuck, you div!" Harrison rolled his eyes. "How're ya gonna tell her?"

"I honestly don't know. I mean, I don't want to seem like a creep or something, but I really need that fucking script." Tom heavily sighed.

"You're on your own, mate." Harrison saluted jokingly.

Tom turned off mute on the call and put the phone to his ear. "Tom? Are you there?" he heard.

"Yeah yeah. Sorry. Bad connection, I think." he excused.

"Anyway, I need your password," you said again. You couldn't help but grin when you saw a picture of Tom and his presumable brothers doing a human pyramid. The camera had captured the exact moment Tom fell backwards while his family had worried face expressions.

"Yeah, 'bout that. Um, please don't take this personal, okay. I'm not a creep or something, I promise. Gosh, I'm so sorry." Tom rambled. "But yeah, um, the password is 'mrs(your name and last name)holland'".

The other line went silent until you laughed. "Wait, what? You're joking, right?"

"I honestly wish I was."

"Holy shit, you're serious?" you exclaimed. You quickly typed the said password. Surprisingly, you got in.

"I never thought this night could escalate into something even weirder, but it just got up to another level," you mumbled.

"Just tell me you logged in." Tom groaned as he was again reminded of the somewhat awkward situation.

"Yes yes, I'm in. I'm guessing the script is in the 'script' folder. What's the name of the film, again?" you asked as you searched on his computer.

"It's 'Beneath a Scarlet Sky'," Tom replied quickly. "Transfer it to my email, please."

"On it."

As you saved the file and tried to remember how to transfer files through mail, Tom ran frantically around the streets trying to find a place with free wifi. Of course, he used to be afraid of people hacking his phone through unsecured free wifi, but he didn't have time to care.

In the end, he found a small shop selling Christmas decorations all year. "Okay, I just sent it."

"Thank you thank you, darling! You're an angel!" Tom thanked. He refreshed his mail several times until the script file turned up. "I just got it!"

"Yay!" you cheered as you turned Tom's Mac off. "I guess my job here is done." you yawned.

"Shit, I'm so sorry. Fuck, I forgot it's three in the morning in London. Thank you so much, love! You really helped me out." Tom thanked and rambled.

"Is there anything I can do for you? Any favour?" he asked flustered.

"I'm glad to help you out, Tom," you answered.

"But I guess, um, we should - well go out on a first date before, y'know, we get married. Haha." you hinted. "I, uh, I mean, it would be nice to get to know you better."

Tom's face reddened as he was reminded of the password scene earlier. He was still embarrassed. "Um, I, just, uh, please don't make me try to explain."

"I'm not going to bug you about it. It's just a bit, y'know, weird, Tom. But I mean, I'm not going to judge you. My name makes a perfect password, right? Hahah." you couldn't help but facepalm as you said the last sentence.

"Um, yeah, it really does. I guess." Tom replied awkwardly.

"Just come by my flat when you're back in town. I know a place with delicious pastries and hot beverages. I mean, only if you want to." you suggested.

"Yes! I mean, of course. I would love to meet up with you, darling." Tom answered excitedly.

"Great!" you replied quickly. "Anyway, good luck with the, um, meeting about the film. I can't wait to see you in it!"

"Thanks! Um, sleep well, Y/N. I hope I didn't bother you too much. I will surely call you another time. Probably when you're not asleep, right, ahahah. Yeah." Tom laughed nervously. "Good night."

"G'night." you smiled as you ended the special call.

The week after the incident, a very happy Tom Holland knocked on your door with bright sunflowers in his hands.

· • ●· • ●· • ●

Anyway, just wanna say that it makes me so happy to hear your responses to this!! So please leave a message or something <3

And it will also make me happy if you reblog this so others can read this ;D

· • ●· • ●· • ●

Add yourself to my taglist?

Permanent: @ultrunning @suncityparker ��@starlightfound @hydrated-bag-of-bones @jubaydahk @ewolfwitchwisegirl @noir-spiderr @hollandharrison @lustful-holland @beautifulwisdom2001 @sweetieparker @isthisnotit @marvel-pilot @petersrogers @courteousdolan @positiveparker @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @teenwolfbitches2 @fockeytom @veronicas-littleworld @peter-prkr @spider-mendes @hermionedeservesbetterthanron @ive-got-more-wit @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @brokenuntilapril26th2019 @mikalaka @sunshinehollandd

Permanent Tom Holland: @parkerpuffwrites @reengard @othersillyfangirl @inlovewithmobtom @the-queen-procrastinator @tomshufflepuff @southsidespidey

Tom Holland imagines: @makennac17 @alexindahouse

[imagine-buckycap]

Babysitting- Bucky Barnes X Reader

Prompt: You and Bucky are tasked with babysitting Morgan and things go a bit awry.

Word Count: 1,593

Warnings: none (:

CAUTION: CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Hello everyone!! I know I have been gone a long time, but I am back and ready for action! And now especially since the spoiler ban for Endgame has been lifted, I have more prompts that I’m itching to write than ever. So of you guys have requests the box is always open, so go ahead and send those in, and I hope you guys are having a good week so far. XX

In the wake of Tony’s death Morgan was a constant. Someone who would always be around at meetings and other important events because her Mom refused to leave her with a sitter.she was always under the table or nicking pastries and sandwiches from the catering counter in the meeting room. But none of us minded, her mom wouldn’t leave her with a sitter. And this was for good reason, every time Pepper left Morgan for longer than 30 minutes she would inevitably scare the sitter off one way or another. Her most recent scheme; she stole some tech from Tony’s garage and ran around the forest with a repulsor on each hand, using old logs and the occasional boulder for target practice. She has also been known to employ Friday and use her to chase the sitter away….Ever since she had been regularly attending meetings, typically tasked with taking ‘diligent’ notes and making sure none of the breakfast pastries went to waste.

You had become accustomed to seeing her around, and she had become accustomed to using her plump cheeks and deep brown puppy dog eyes to win a spot on your lap at each meeting so she would be able to “listen better”, and the pastries her mom said she couldn’t have but you gave her anyway. It wasn’t long before Pepper picked up on this relationship and approached you one day after a particularly long meeting.

“Hey I know this is a lot to ask, and you can totally say no, there’s no pressure. But would you maybe watch Morgan tonight? I have a Gala to go to and they have a strict no kids policy, it’s a black tie event and I don’t have-

“Of course I will Pepper, it really wouldn’t be a problem,” you assured, looking down at Morgan who was busy reading a book about computer microchips, a stolen book from her Dad’s personal collection no doubt.

“That’s so great to hear, I will go down to the parking garage and grab her booster seat from the car, give me one sec and I’ll meet you on the street. Where did yo park?” Pepper asked.

“Oh you mean right now, yeah I- uh, I’m parked on the corner of Graham and Bellflower, by the coffee bistro,” you informed. Pepper nodded and let go of Morgan’s hand, causing the small child to look up from her book.

“You two are gonna hang out tonight together while Mommy attends a very important Gala, Ok?” Pepper cooed to Morgan. She nodded in agreement and smiled up at you, you smiled back.

Pepper handed you the booster seat and before you could even ask which way it was supposed to face, she was gone. You struggled with the seat for a solid 45 minutes, the small snide comments from Morgan were no help either. She finally caved and helped you install the damn thing, and you could tell your struggle slightly amused her. On the ride home she asked you about where you lived, you explained that you lived in a small apartment on the other side of town, and that you had a small chubby cat you affectionately named Gravy. She was very excited to meet Gravy.

Once you arrived home and unlocked the door Morgan made herself at home on the couch, right next to Gravy. She cooed at him and pulled his ears a little too hard, but he didn’t mind. As you were looking through the fridge for a suitable snack for Morgan, Bucky waltzed into the kitchen, clad in sweatpants and a tight t-shirt.

“You could at least look decent, Bucky, Tony Stark’s progeny is in our living room, and not gonna lie, she scares me,” you confessed. He looked at you from the counter, his face unamused.

“So that’s what all that squealing was,” he mused, crossing his arms over his chest, thinking.

“What?” you asked. He shrugged. “I’m gonna get that kid to like me if it’s the last thing I do. I mean we all know her Dad never did, so I’m gonna make her like me dammit,” he proclaimed. You found a string cheese and various fruit in the fridge, and some crackers in the pantry, while Bucky lamented his plan to you.

“Uh-huh, you go ahead and do that, babe,” you mused while you assembled the cheese and crackers onto a plate, hoping furiously that this child didn’t have any allergies.

“Do we have any juice?” you asked Bucky, who was busy looking around the corner and into the living room at the small child.

“I dunno,” he answered. He was obviously not paying any attention to you. Due to his lack of attention, you thought you’d mess with him a little bit.  “Oh and also, I’m cheating on you with Sam and I’m also pregnant with this unborn child,’ you mused.

“Holy shit, what?” he asked, whipping around from his post at the corner to look at you. You laughed and smacked his butt lightly on the way out of the kitchen.

You emerged into the living room to find Morgan and Gravy essentially having a staring contest.

“Morgan, are you hungry? I made you a snack,” you offered. She continued to stare at the cat. Bucky tried next. “Morgan, do you want something to eat? After all, you’ve had such a long day attending all those important meetings with your Mom.” At the sound of a new, male voice, she broke her gaze to look over at Bucky. Her eyes doubled in size as she took in the man standing by the TV. Silently, she got up off the couch and crept over to Bucky. Her face was determined and her eyebrows were furrowed deeply on her forehead, she was thinking. He stood motionless, looking down at the small girl approaching him. Neither of them spoke nor broke eye contact. Finally, when Morgan was no more than three steps away from Bucky, she spoke. “I know who you are,” she accused. Bucky sighed and tried to put his best foot forward.

“Do ya now?” he asked. She nodded and closed the gap between them, reaching out to stroke the back of his gleaming hand lightly, she couldn’t reach much higher up. She ran her hand up and down the ridges on his hand, still looking up at him.

“Yeah. You’re the guy who killed my Grandma and Grandpa.” Bucky Winced. “Daddy tells me that story every once in a while, but he says you’re not a bad guy, you were just made to do bad things. He told me it’s not your fault and you can’t help it. He also told me you’re better now. Is that true?” she asked, stepping back to look at him. He was quiet for a bit; probably trying to think of his response. I stepped in.

“Bucky is mostly better, he still sometimes feels bad, but he would never hurt you, or anyone else for that matter. He is working on it,” you explained. Morgan nodded and pulled lightly on Bucky’s hand.

“Can I touch the gold?” she asked. Bucky nodded and crouched down, bringing his bicep to her level. She stroked the smooth metal, completely captivated by the technology whirring quietly inside. Bucky was still silent, but his eyes were glossy. You could tell he was elated for two reasons. One, the girl liked, practically loved, him, and two, Tony had forgiven him, somewhat, for what he did all those years ago.

“Hey Morgan, do you wanna play a board game?” you asked after she was done grilling Bucky about his arm and everything about it.

“Yeah, sure” she agreed. You marched down the hall to the closet where you kept the games. After about five minutes of trying to decide which game Morgan would like best, you finally slid CandyLand and Monopoly out from the piles. You figured you would let her choose. You rounded the corner to the living room and the sight before your eyes nearly sent you into cardiac arrest.

“James Buchanan Barnes, why does Morgan have a knife?” you asked, not wanting to come any further into the living room.

“She felt unsafe,” was his simple answer. You were about to ask why a 6 year old would feel unsafe when Morgan turned to you, brandishing the knife with a perfect stance and forward thrust. So she wanted to learn how to knife fight from the most revered assassin in the entire world. This child was a handful, but you had to say she was resourceful

“Well now I feel unsafe,” you mumbled, taking a step back.

“Do you want a knife?” Bucky asked. You shook your head, stepping forward and grabbing the knife from Morgan.

“Since when is it a good idea to give a 6 year old a knife?” you asked.

“Nat held one for the first time when she was 4. I want the youth of today to have choices. If she wants to be a knife-wielding 8 year old, then so be it. Kids do weirder things,” he defended. You shook your head in defeat. So Bucky was not to be left alone on babysitting duty, noted.

MASTERLIST

[impartofthesolution]

Thirteen Ways to Die in a Warehouse

(Author’s note: some discretion advised, while light-hearted, some content can be gruesome)            Steven was late for work, again.  His coworkers teased him about all the time he didn’t spend working during his shift.  In his supervisor’s eyes, he met quota and never undermined them.  They were willing to overlook all of his other blunders and shortcomings.  Oh, he had a lot of them, too.  And not all of them were easy to overlook.            The blue pickup in front of him couldn’t be going any slower.  Technically, it was going the 15 mph speedlimit on company grounds.  Still, Steven was late.  He pulled out from behind the car into the next lane.  The pickup sped up, too.  Steve drove faster.  The pickup matched him.            All of the sudden, a woman walked out into the street without looking both ways, too busy texting.  The pickup hit her and sent her flying, tumbling through the air.  She landed 100 feet away and got tangled up in the turnstile.  The blue pickup had braked hard, and Steven pulled in front of it and continued to drive at a cool 17 mph into the parking lot.            “You’re late,” said Donald, laugh.            “And your joke is right on time, as always,” Steven smirked, putting on his hardhat, safety glasses, and high visibility vest.            “Did you hear about Karen?” Spencer asked, joining them.            “Dude, I SAW her go flying,” Steven replied.            “Oh man,” was all Donald had to say about that.            “Some blue pickup trucked her,” Steven explained.            “Tucker drives a blue pickup,” Spencer pointed out. “Oh man, he’s done for.  He was already on probation for the accident last week… and the week before that.”            “You talking about Tucker?  That guy’s a loser,” Steven walked up, joining the three of them.            “I kinda liked him around,” said Steven.  “He was easy to blame stuff on.”  The four of them laughed.            Donald checked his watch.  “Alright, break’s over.  See you three around.”  He left the room, forgetting his hardhat on the table.  Spencer left and turned the other direction.            “You think he’s going to need that?” Steven asked Steven. Steven shrugged.  They both chuckled, heading to the warehouse.  Today’s tasks would involve them stacking things on shelves way up high, so Steven went to fetch the ladder truck.            Steven started walking to the shop floor where he’d meet Steven.  On his way, he passed Frank, opening a panel.            “Hey, Frank,” he greeted him.  “How was the night last night?”            Frank turned around.  “Hey, Steven.  It was great. Me and the missus went out to that fancy restaurant.”            “How was it?”            “Let’s just say if it was the last meal I ever had, I would die happy.”            “Cool.  Here comes Steven.  Glad to hear it.  You locked out and tagged out that panel, right?”            “Of course,” replied Frank.  “I think.”  He shrugged and went to work on the panel.  Sparks flew as the energized panel fried him alive.  Steven noticed lights flickering on his way to meet Steven, but he thought nothing over it.            Together, they went into the eighteenth aisle and set up. Someone had delivered a handful of boxes for them to start lifting.  Steven positioned the boxes and checked where they needed to be placed while Steven took them there.            On the sixth box, Steven shouted down “Hey Steven, this one ain’t fitting.”            “Are you sure?” asked Steven.            “Sure I’m sure.  I got it a few inches in, but it won’t go further back.”            “Try hitting it with this hammer,” Steven grabbed a hammer from his toolbelt.  Steven came down, fetched the hammer, and went back up to try again.  He gave the box a few solid whacks.  Each time, it moved a few more inches in.  Satisfied it was going to stay, he left the hammer on the edge of the shelf and went down for another box.            Donald tottered around the corner, carrying a stack of boxes taller than his head.  “I’ve got more boxes for you guys.”            “Watch where you’re going, Donald!” warned Steven. Donald misgauged where he was walking and ran into the shelving unit with the boxes.  The force knocked the hammer off the shelf, and it fell 30 feet onto the top of his head, cracking it open.  Donald collapsed, the boxes falling on top of him.            “I guess he needed his hardhat,” remarked Steven, coming own on the ladder truck.            Steven sighed, “I guess we need to report this workplace incident.”            “Roll him onto this forklift; we’ll take him to H&S.” Together, they shoved the boxes off of Donald and rolled him onto the forklift’s forks.            “Do you think we need to tie him down?”            “Nah, not if I drive slowly.  Hop on.”  It seemed no matter where the incident occurred, the Health and Safety office was always at the other end of the Warehouse.  They turned left out of their aisle and headed down the main causeway. Steven kept it slow and controlled to keep from losing Donald.            “Hey, watch out,” Steven yelled to a guy just standing in the path.  The coworker turned around and jumped back and out of the way.  Doing so, he bumped into a guy working with a conveyor belt. He fell forward onto it, and it carried him into a chamber.  His screams were drowned out by the extra machine noises the conveyor made as it worked harder to keep turning.            Steven shrugged, that one wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t his unenviable task to fish the body parts out of the machine.  The forklift swerved, and Steven reached over to steady it.            “Hey man, you alright?”  He asked the driver.  The lighting was sub-standard, so it was hard to tell, but Steven looked quite pale.            “I’m fine, just an upset stomach.  I really shouldn’t’ve eaten that sandwich I saw in the fridge. The one that had been sitting there for two weeks.”  He tried hard to keep the forklift straight, but he was losing it.  The vehicle began doing an erratic serpentine down the warehouse floor.            “Watch where you’re going with that thing!” somebody shouted out, barely leaping out of the way in time.  Steven tried to wrest control of the wheel, but Steven held firmly even as he was fading.  Barbara, the pretty woman from the office who always brought homemade cookies entered the warehouse in front of them.            “Watch out, Barbara,” Steven called.  Barbara tried to evade the forklift, but it seemed no matter where she went, the forklift kept coming at her.  “No!”  The fork pierced Barbara right through the solar plexus and carried her along as it kept moving forward.            “I’m fine, trust me.  I’m good,” Steven was muttering to himself.  Then, he threw up a sickly looking green mess all over the wheel, Donald, and Barbara, who was screaming and squirming, trying to remove herself from the forklift.  Steven stretched as far away from Steven as possible.  Steven threw up again, and again.  He was definitely fading.  The forklift stopped swerving and headed straight for a wall, even as it accelerated. Steven threw up blood, and Steven decided it was time to jump ship.  He hopped off the forklift before it careened into a cement wall, the forks embedding in the wall, trapping Barbara.            Barbara extended a vomit and blood covered hand to Steven and said, “I covered for your lateness and mistakes so many times…” she coughed up her own blood “… because I loved you.”  The hand fell limp.            Steven shook his head sadly.  It would have been nice to know that earlier.  If there was one benefit from this turn of events, it was that he was finally the only Steven in the warehouse.  No more stupid confusion.  Technically, turning in Donald’s body was supposed to be the now-deceased Steven’s responsibility.  Steven was just along for the ride.  He needed to get back to work if he wanted to meet his quota.  That was his secret- never waste time reporting small mishaps to H&S or the supervisors.  They’d figure out sooner or later.            He wandered back to his task through the hazardous waste area.  It was fun to walk through and see if he recognized any faces.  As one could guess, turnover was quite high.  “Oh hey, Reily, nice to see ya.”  Reily turned around from his vat of acid at Steven’s greeting.            “Hey Steven, headed back from H&S?”  Reily’s partner, a new face Steven didn’t know, was fishing around in the vat.            “Almost, we made it about as far as the second loading dock.  I’m back to storage now.  What are you up to?”            “Ahh, well, fishing up poor Henderson from the vat. You wouldn’t think you needed a Wet Floor sign to warn someone to walk carefully around here.”  They shared a knowing chuckle.            “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.  Hope to see you around,” Steven said, and he continued walking. As he left the hazardous waste area, something landed at his feet.  He stopped and looked down to see what it was.  It appeared to be glasses, but the lenses were cracked.  A few seconds later, a body fell right in front of him. First, his hand hit the ground, then his face.  The momentum snapped his neck backwards and his body crumpled.  “Nope, I can’t let this upset my quota,” Steven said to himself, stepping over the body.            “Hey, Steven, can you help me a quick sec?” a voice called out from down an aisle.            “Sure, Connor, what do you need?”  Steven did have time for a quick detour to help a coworker.            “I just need you to hold this piece of metal for me while I drill this jawn in.”            “Dang man, that drill looks like it’s from the 80s!”            “What, this?” ask Connor, lifting up his drill to show off.  It was lovingly duct taped in multiple places.  “Yeah, it’s my lucky drill.  I had it when I was just an apprentice.  Never needed another drill.”  Steven kept the sheet metal steady as Connor started drilling.  It went well for a few seconds, and then the drill started making a high pitched whine.  The metal stopped vibrating as the screw stopped going into it.  The whine stopped, and Connor muttered to himself about having to keep adjusting the torque.  The drill started back up.  Steven thought it was almost done when a blast against the sheet metal knocked him back. He put it down and peered around the edge to check on Connor.  The drill was in pieces, and one of those piece had lodged itself right in his throat.            Steven reentered the main causeway and stepped around some scaffolding.  He looked up and noticed a worker climbing on the outside of the scaffolding.  “Hey Danny, best watch you don’t fall and take the whole thing with you.”            “Don’t worry, Steven, I’m being careful,” Danny waved at Steven.  Steven nodded to him and continued walking.  Up ahead, he heard a commotion.  He looked down an aisle and saw two coworkers whose names he forgot angry and shouting at each other.  One was holding a chainsaw, the other was shakily holding a gun.            The gunman said, “I can’t believe you slept with my wife. I thought we were friends.”  It was clear he was emotional and not thinking straight.  It was also clear he’d never aimed a gun at someone before.            The chainsaw man said, “Dude, we were never friends.  Your wife is too good for you.”  Furious, the gunman pulled the trigger.  The bullet grazed the chainsaw man’s arm.  With a grunt and a shout, he lunged at the gunman and swung the chainsaw down, separating his gun arm at the shoulder.  The arm fell to the ground, and the impact forced the fingers to pull the trigger again.  A second shot went off, ricocheting off the metal shelves before burying itself in the chainsaw man’s head.  He felt forward, and the gunman took a step back.  The shelves were shaking from the impact of the bullet, and a box fell off and knocked into the gunman.  He lost his footing on the floor, now slippery with his own blood, and fell into the still running chainsaw.            Just then, Spencer walked up and joined Steven, watching the chainsaw go to work.  “Eventful morning, huh?” he said.            “That’s for sure.  I can’t even imagine what I would have seen if I had come on time.”            “Maybe if you showed up on time, the world would reset to how it’s supposed to be and none of this would have happened.”  He paused playfully.  “Or the world would have just ended.”            They laughed, finally entering the aisle where they needed to finish off their work for the day.  Shockingly, they had an uninterrupted 40 minutes and got a significant amount done.  “What’s that sound?” asked Steven.  They looked around and under the shelves and boxes.  “Found it,” he reached down and plucked up a rat.  “This little bugger was hiding.”  He tossed it into an empty box.  A minute later, a small army of rats emerged from under the boxes, blinking at him.  He sighed, there hadn’t been a rat problem since they started mandatory job training and cut down on workplace injuries and casualties.  Steven and Spencer set to work trapping the rats and tossing them into the box.  “I’m just going to throw these in the dumpster.  I’m sure there’s plenty of food to keep them busy.”            Steven carried his box out of the warehouse to the far dumpster and chucked it in.  “Ooof, watch it,” came a voice from within.  A grizzled homeless man with messy hair stood up.  “Did you give me anything good, young fella?”  He bent and opened the box.  “Ouch!  That hurt. Ouch, ow ow owowow.”  The rats swarmed him, gnawing the thin flesh off his bony figure.  Steven closed the dumpster and returned to work.            He met Spencer at the door.  “Let’s wash up and have our lunch.”  They hit up the bathroom before heading to the breakroom. Hansie the mechanic was already there, warming up his food in the toaster oven.  Spencer wrinkled his nose.  “Ugh, Hansie, why do you always smell like oil and diesel fuel?  Can’t you wash up before coming here?”  Hansie waved him off dismissively.            Hansie’s food caught on fire in the toaster oven. “Woops,” he said, opening it up to fan it off.  The fire ignited the accelerant still on his skin and in two seconds, his whole body was flaming.            “Dang,” said Spencer, reaching for the fire extinguisher, “does that guy bath in motor oil?”  He tried to extinguish the flames, but by the time the chemical fire went out, there was nothing left to save.            “Let’s maybe eat lunch elsewhere today,” suggested Steven.            “Good idea.  Maybe the park will be nice and calm,” hoped Spencer. Back to Table of Contents (x)

[evanvanness]

Annotated edition for the May 31, 2020, Week in Ethereum News

Here’s the most clicked for the week:

I think the Societe Generale bond issuance paying Banque de France with a CBDC digital euro hadn’t been hyped at all, hence why it led the list.  In fact, I don’t think anyone had noticed the press release until Julien Bouteloup tweeted it a week after it had gone out.

Given France’s history protecting domestic industry, you would expect Tezos to be getting these projects due its (probably inaccurate) reputation as being a French project.  And I bet Tezos will get some involvement in the future from the French government linked projects, but it’s still notable that these things are still on Ethereum when Tezos has been live for nearly 2 years (though with very little use).

Meanwhile, alongside yesterday’s announcements of Starkware and OMG, Vitalik tweeted that “initial deployment of ethereum's layer 2 scaling strategy has *basically* succeeded.”   That’s not wrong, but it’s prone to misinterpretation.

The history of layer2 in blockchain is not a particularly successful one.  I’d argue that the question isn’t whether it works, per se, but can it work in a way that gets users over the long haul.  Sure, we’re starting to see that (loopring is live with a million trades on its rollup!) - and we appear to be on the verge of real apps running on layer2 - but there’s a long history in Bitcoin and Ethereum of unrealistic expectations for layer2.  

Here’s the high-level things for Eth holders reads:

8 things you should consider before staking

Devcon6 will be in Bogota in 2021

Liquidity mining: now you earn Balancer tokens for supplying liquidity or Compound tokens for supplying/borrowing

Lots of folks are considering whether to stake, how much to stake, whether to use a staking service, etc etc.  Cayman’s post was a pretty good primer on these questions.   Eth2 staking will lock your ETH up for awhile.  The return is likely to be quite good, though as more people lock up ETH, the return declines.  So it’s hard to say exactly what the return will be - and you won’t be liquid for a long while.

Eth2′s beacon chain is designed for decentralization, with penalties for being offline or doing something wrong (eg, double signing) going up exponentially if they are part of an attack (”correlated”).

That is to say, you should be totally fine staking at home even with mediocre residential connection - going offline usually just means you miss rewards.  And even if you go offline when AWS goes down, as long as you bring your connection back up quickly, you should be relatively ok.    

Staking services should professionalize the staking in ways that ameliorate some risks but which might provide hidden risk if they don’t make sure to think about the risks.   Do they do their staking in the cloud, especially something like AWS east?  Do they spread across different clients?  How much of a honey pot are they?  

Meanwhile, Devcon will be in Colombia but postponed until next year.

Finally, of my 3 high level articles to read: liquidity mining.  DeFi apps like Balancer and Compound are decentralizing themselves by giving tokens to their users, to bootstrap the things the network needs to be example.  By no means are these the first examples of giving away tokens to users, but these are 2 notable examples of a trend to keep an eye on.

Now for the annotations.  A few sections I don’t have anything to add: 

Eth1

Latest core devs call, discussion of EIPs for inclusion in Berlin hard fork, whether or not to include 2046 (static call to precompile gas reduction) and 2565 (modexp reprice). Working toward an ephemeral testnet for Berlin.

Latest fee market change (1559) call. Notes from the EIP1559 call

Discussion thread on meta transactions, oil, opcode repricing

Snap sync mainnet benchmarking, single peer on AWS

I basically say the same thing in this section every week.   People are implementing the EIPs and figuring out which ones will be ready to go for Berlin.  EIP1559 will not be ready until the hard fork after Berlin.  Then in the longer-term, there’s lots of work on Stateless Ethereum (or the non-preferred nomenclature: 1.x 🤮) and that’s in discussion.  

And then Peter is working on a new sync (formerly known as leaf sync) which seems to cut bandwidth way way down.

Eth2

Latest what’s new in eth2, features a Schlesi testnet postmortem

The new multi-client testnet is Witti. Here’s a guide to staking

Latest eth2 implementer call. Notes from Ben and Mamy

Cross-shard transaction simulation

8 things you should consider before staking

RocketPool is going to wrap the ETH locked up in Eth2 staking, thus giving liquidity to eth2 stakers

New multi-client testnet.  They’re basically going to spin them up, try to break them, and not worry about rescuing them if they go down, since you can spin a new one up.  This one is called Witti.

RocketPool deciding to tokenize the 32staked eth is interesting.  It’s basically inevitable - anything that can get wrapped, eventually will get wrapped.  This may end up being the decentralized way to get liquidity for your staked ETH if plans change and you decide you need liquidity for your 32 staked ETH.  There will almost certainly be centralized ways - exchanges eventually offer staking and let you trade IOUs.  Of course, that depends on how much you trust the exchange.

Layer2

Raiden v1 is live on mainnet for DAI and WETH, with some token limits

Deconstructing a state channel app and how a dev interacts with a state channel wallet

A zk-rollups to scale blockchain explainer

Understanding optimistic rollups by building one

Dharma and Interstate open source their Tiramisu optimistic rollup for token transfers

Raiden shipped with the training wheels on!  

Not much else to say around layer2 besides what I said above.  Gotta get users.

This newsletter is made possible by Chainlink!

Connect your smart contract to decentralized oracles that provide the most tamper-proof and accurate market price data, as well as on-chain verifiable randomness that’s provably fair.

Stuff for developers

Array slices in Solidity v0.6

Truffle v5.1.27 – debugger support for Solidity inline assembly

Upgradeable contracts using diamond standard

web3j now includes abi v2

Typescript types for Solidity AST

i18n translation strings for Defi, available as npm package

Build your first Harberger tax app tutorial

eth95: retro UI for calling contract functions

secp256k1 twist attacks

BLS12-381 pairing-friendly curve in JavaScript, now with hash-to-curve v7 and 50 pairings/sec

Ecosystem

Devcon6 will be in Bogota in 2021

All the projects from EthGlobal’s Hack Money

A surprising 120 submissions for Hack Money!

I’m not surprised Devcon got pushed to 2021, but I am disappointed.   I’d like to see a prediction market on when the next ETH event is which has more than ~400 attendees.  

We’re also getting out of the spring conference season (note for southern hemisphere readers: sorry, I know it’s fall for you), so I’m curious whether we’ll see online conferences continue to pop up for every day of the week.  I suspect not, but it is open real estate at the moment.

Enterprise

First Central Bank Digital Currency public blockchain transaction is on Ethereum: Societe General issued €40m of covered bonds as security tokens and paid with Banque de France digital euros. While the press release does not make it clear, the transaction was on Ethereum mainnet

It actually took me the better part of an hour to find the link that confirmed that this was on Eth mainnet.

DAOs and Standards

Summoning the spirit of DAO ops

ERC2680: eth2 standard wallet layout and naming format

ERC2678: EthPM v3

EIP2681: Limit account nonce to 2^64-1

EIP2677: Limit initcode size

Application layer

Enjin plugin for Minecraft to tokenize Minecraft items on your server

Umbra: stealth payments to ENS names, running on Ropsten testnet

How does NexusMutual become an efficient version of Lloyd’s of London?

Maker’s Oasis now makes it easy to leverage up with ETH

DeFi777 – wrap your erc20 tokens as erc777 tokens, then swap through ENS names

RenVM brings BTC, BCH, and ZEC to Ethereum as ERC20 tokens

Mstable basket of stablecoins live on mainnet, includes yield from Compound/Aave plus swap fees – there’s a zero slippage stablecoin trade with 30 basis points of fees

Centrifuge’s Tinlake asset factoring is on mainnet, with factoring for freight shipping and Spotify payments

4/8 arbitrarily classified as DeFi this week.

Zero slippage stablecoin trade is an interesting approach - of course, as a liquidity provider, you’re assuming those stablecoins stay stable.  As a user, you want tiny slippage and tiny fees for going between two things that are supposed to represent the same value.   As a liquidity provider you want as much fees as possible, especially since you’re assuming the risk of pegs slipping or being broken.

Also just wait until Centrifuge’s factoring gets pushed as collateral for Maker.  I’m curious what the response will be - or is it hohum since some trusted assets have already been added?

Tokens/Business/Regulation

Liquidity mining: now you earn Balancer tokens for supplying liquidity or Compound tokens for supplying/borrowing

Zap your liquidity around in one transaction

Ryan Sean Adams: Eth is doubly undervalued

Gavin Andresen: crypto markets take a long time to reflect reality

People seem to call it maximalism these days when you point out that anything is overvalued, but I thought Gavin’s post was a concise reflection of the irrationality of crypto markets.

General

LadderLeak and ECDSA explainer

Hundreds of thousands of Thai users switching to Minds, a Twitter/Facebook hybrid social network incentivized through an ERC20 token

I checked out Minds.  They did a token sale two years ago, though you can still buy it on their site now.  It’s an interesting concept, you can get paid to post, except you have to pay to be a paid member first.  I couldn’t quite work out what the incentives were for me, but social networks need to get traction in one niche and then expand, and it seems like they may be getting that in Thailand.  I’d like to see more social network attempts using tokenized incentives.

Housekeeping

Follow me on Twitter @evan_van_ness to get the annotated edition of this newsletter on Monday or Tuesday. Plus I tweet most of what makes it into the newsletter.

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Permalink: https://weekinethereumnews.com/week-in-ethereum-news-may-31-2020/

Dates of Note

Upcoming dates of note (new/changes in bold):

June 1-6 – DAO Rush Week

June 3 – BlockVigil’s free remote developer bootcamp begins

June 16 – deadline to apply for Gitcoin’s Kernel incubator

Oct 2-Oct 30 – EthOnline hackathon

[praphit]

JUSTICE LEAGUE: It had better be good, or back to GA's hot tub for me

The long forced-upon-us wait is over! The JL is here! 　

I took a big risk in seeing this movie. The last time we saw most of these people working together was in "Batman v Superman", and... whew, I pause to re-live the horribleness of that movie in my mind. I remember being only 30 mins in, and looking at the time; thinking to myself "I feel like I've been abused, and I still have 2 hours left of this punishment." I remember going through random fits of rage. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, run outside and start jump-kicking people and throwing snowballs filled with wrath at people... it was never snowing outside... to this day I still don't know how I was even doing that. I went to therapy. Well... by therapy I mean I just started showing up at Gillian Anderson's house

 - this went on for months. I remember one time I blacked out and appeared in GA's hot tub... I had apparently filled the tub with strawberry ice cream. I was in the tub, dressed in a tux, crying over how horrible that movie was. Of course she'd call the cops, but I'd just break out and show back up again for more therapy. She eventually broke down and gave me counsel.

She said "John, you've got to believe again! Look to the Wonder Woman! If that movie is good, perhaps you can have hope again... and get the (bleep) up out of my house for good."

WW was indeed good, and I hoped once again.

A lot is at stake in seeing this movie; especially for Gillian Anderson, but let's give it a whirl: 　

I wasn't the only one who's life became tarnished after "BvS". The reason we have "Justice League" in the first place is because Batman was taking a look around one day...

- drunk out of his mind, looking at this particular DC franchise/universe he said to himself "This is all (bleepity bleeped) up:

No one respects us. Our Tv series' are getting better reviews than our movies. No one knows our heroes. Our villains are dull. Lex Luthor (I don't really need to say anymore about... just terrible). Every set of these DC movies are always so dark... seriously, I haven't seen the sun in years. Plus, the one adored character we had (in Superman) we killed! I can't save this franchise by myself; I'm too old!

I've done this for too long. I've been played by so many differnt actors, I don't even know who's really under this mask anymore. I need help to save DC. I've got to assemble a team. No, not like Marvel's Avengers... but kinda like Marvel's Avengers...

...

... ok, fine, it's exactly like Marvel's Avengers, but hell, it worked"

He started with the one thing DC has been doing correctly - Wonder Woman!

Even more confident in this movie than her self-titled one. She def kicks the most ass in this movie out of everyone (but I'll get back to that later). The ladies dig her! The guys dig her (though they might be checking her out in the process). The kids dig her! It's an easy sell!

Now, to get a younger character involved to draw the youths! Get a lil hip. Get a lil comedy up in here as well - The Flash!

The Flash is the character that is the most down to earth. He brings some much needed levity to DC (I'm looking forward to his solo movie). Not everyone agrees with me, but I also think he's on the spectrum, which makes for some awkward moments - but this only helps his likeability. The only criticism over Flash is... well... his running. Ezra Miller (the actor playing Flash) runs as The Flash like it's the first time he has ever used his legs... his form is just bad - his steps unsteady, his arms and fingers flailing about. But... that also added to my enjoyment of his character.

Next Bats wanted to add some color to this movie (No, not Cyborg... well, yes Cyborg, but I'll get to him next). He wanted some literal costumed color to make things more lively! Someone more chipper and family friendly, so they got Aquaman.

But, he was super lame and just plain weird... so after immediately kicking him out, they acquired Jason Momoa. 

They showered him up, gave him a year supply of whiskey, ripped his shirt off, threw him in the water, and BLAOW - the new Aquaman!

He's not very colorful, but he's Jason Momoa - what more do you need?? (plus they figured that these DC movies will never get out of the dark anyway, so [bleep] it); he knows how to have fun in the dark.

That would be a great show wouldn't it?? "Fun in the dark with Jason Momoa" All of a sudden the power would go out and Momoa would just kinda do stuff do people while drinking and laughing his ass off. Prob a lawsuit waiting to happen I guess. Nevermind.

I dig his character. Here's another solo movie I'm looking forward to seeing. They successfully made Aquaman cool again... scratch that, they successfully made Aquanman cool.

Lastly, Batman needed a black dude for diversity sake, so he got Cyborg.

Cyborg is... a cyborg; that describes him in full really. I wish all people had names that describes what they do. "Nikki Lawyer", "Jimmy Pimp". Even better if our middle names revealed our personalities. "Nikki Asshole Lawyer", "Jimmy Friendly Pimp".

Cyborg's personality is all wrapped up in his brooding. But, he's pretty much a head surrounded by powerful, hard-to-control, alien tech. I'd be brooding if I were him too.

The best part about Cyborg (for Batman) is that he has a talented black man whom he can completely control (comes with a remote and everything) - a rich, old, white man's dream:)

Now, we have THE JUSTICE LEAGUE! Tada!

- and zombie Superman whom I'll get to in a sec.

And what/whom is the League fighting? - like I said, there are so many enemies to this DC universe, but the most dangerous one is their god-awful villains.

Steppenwolf -

- is the DC villain of choice this time around. And they go as generic as they possibly can with him. He just wants to conquer the world. As always with villains like these, I must ask "why?" Especially our planet - the resources are getting all used up, we're overpopulated, trashy - I mean we care so little about this planet that we throw used diapers and condoms out in the middle of the streets... why would any alien force want this planet? 

I actually believe that this is why Jesus is taking so long to come back.

He must be like  "When I left the planet was still  beautiful! What did y'all do??! At least clean some of the used condoms up before I come back!"

Anyway, the motivation of villains like Steppenwolf rarely makes any sense, plus his name is Steppenwolf - there's no way anyone can be a successful bully with a name like that.

This movie stands tall and strong on two pillars: CGI and Novelty:

1) The CG is really good when we're focusing on individual characters. They nail Flash's speed, and Aquaman's water action, and ALL of the action in this movie is solid. The problem is towards the end when everyone's CG is running into each other. You add CG bug creatures, a powerful CG villain who rages everywhere in typical end-of-movie fashion, and this movie being really dark (which never helps with CG overload). There's just so much! Too much!

2) The novelty wears off towards the end as well. I like these characters, but unlike The Avengers we're coming into this movie not knowing these characters. They seem like cool people that I wish I had time with, but they're all rushing off to fight. Wonder Woman is the only one that we know. Even Batman is a new Batman to us. We still haven't (and may not even get) a solo movie with this older Batman. We got used to Christian Bale flexing and chasing bad guys down. Ben Affleck Batman seems slow, and a lil pudgy... and I swear in the scene where he throws one weapon at Flash to test his theory ( a dangerous way to test that theory btw) he gets winded and has to finish dialouge while catching his breath. I like this Batman, but we don't know him. The fighting is cool, but would be so much better if we knew these characters.

I will say that WW saves it all. I should really add her as the third pillar of this movie. Like I said, she's the most bad ass, the most reasonable, the most mature... honestly I was intimidated by her wardrobe alone. Outfit after outfit being mercilessly stylish. 

While Flash is tripping over his own feet, and Cyborg is kinda losing control (which you'll see when you watch), and Jason Momoa is drinking and banging chicks, and Batman is busy being old... Wonder Woman is the only one who brings it.

Unless you want to count Superman.

Let's talk about my main man Supe!

The scene when he comes back to life (not a spoiler btw - we knew this was coming) is the best scene of the movie... possibly the best scene of this DC universe. It was like a horror movie. He's back and he's pissed! It was as if he was in Heaven partying, and they snatched him back. He was like "I was happy! I was at peace! Now I'm back in this shit hole!"

He makes quick work of all in his way, which makes me wonder why they even need a "League". All of the heroes can retire. We just need Superman to get angry enough, and point him in the right direction. 　

So that's it! CG and fight scenes are great, but when it all comes together towards the end it's a mess. The novelty is cool, but only carries the movie so far. And WW (who i'm voting for our next president ) trying hard to carry Old Batman's team of misfits.

Grade: B-

Next time, WW should take over and call this movie "Wonder League".

Rotten Tomatoes was way too hard on this movie. Perhaps they still haven't completed their therapy. Not on par with Marvel's best, but still entertaining. I'd see it again for Superman's rebirth scene alone.

My dream is to see an rated R version of Superman. Kinda like we got with "Logan" when we saw what he could really do with those claws. Can you imagine Superman ripping off the limbs of his enemies, crushing skulls, and punching people into a bloody mist?? That's the movie I want! An unstoppable Superman, free from the shackles of morality.

He destroys us so bad that Jesus comes back to battle Superman.

Forget Bats vs Superman. "Jesus vs Superman" sonn! Picture the two of them flying through the air and punching one another. Then JC finally reveals that He has been holding back. He does his transfiguration thang and totally annihilates Superman... and most of the planet... and screen at the movie theatres (somehow)... YES! Get on that, DC! 　

[tew-sad]

3 years of living in a lie.

I looked down at his phone that was one the table in front of us, and there was a message from someone named "Cutie😜♥️" I didn't question it then. Later that night the same person kept texting him. As he was in the shower I looked at his phone. Was I wrong? I had all the suspicions too. This person named "Cutie😜♥️" was somone he was talking too.. sexually? I don't know, but they were in his FaceTime recents and recent call log. I confronted him and asked him who they were and he swiped his phone out of my hand. Was I wrong to go through his phone? Tears rolled down my face and he wiped away one of them. I swatted his hand away and I told him "don't touch me". I slept on the couch that night huddled in the blanket that my mother had given me for my moving away gift. I looked at my phone and began to text my sister: "Hey Julz" 💬*10mins of waiting* "Julz?" 'Hey' "do you have a sec to talk?" 'yea sure is everything alright?' "I think Jay is cheating on me" 'He's what?' "Cheating." 'What's makes you say that?' "Someone named Cutie😜♥️ started texting his phone today. I couldn't find a picture of this person for the contact but I think he's fooling around with this person." 'don't assume till you find the truth' "But they've been texting him all night and when I confront him about it he swiped his phone out of my hand and then continued to text this person." 'Look, maybe it's time for a change. I didn't want to say this but he has cheated on you before' "Before? When? With who?!" 'Can we meet for coffee tomorrow? It's late and I need the sleep.' "Yea sure. 9 am @ beans?" 'Sure thing! Love ya. Night' I questioned to myself about why she avoided the question I asked her.… I laid there on the couch for a solid hour scrolling through Facebook and Instagram just looking at baby photos of cats and dogs. I fell asleep around 2ish. The next morning is when it got hellish. I showed up at beans around 8:50 AM. I got my usual, an espresso with extra cream, and I sat down in the usual spot where I'd sit. It's near the door outside so my sister would see me when she arrived. I waited for half an hour. 9:30 am rolled by and I called my sister. It went straight to voicemail. Hmm maybe she over slept. I drank the rest of my coffee and I drove through the park to get home. When I arrived there was a black mustang in the driveway. I pulled up behind it and I walked to the door. I took my key out and I put it in the lock. It didn't work. It wasn't unusual that it didn't work, there was problems with these old locks. I called in to the receptionist and I asked her to get the locks changed on my apartments door. She exclaimed that they just replaced them this morning and that I should get a new key. I wrote down "get a new key" in my phone and I walked inside my house. There was laundry everywhere. I mean everywhere. I walked to the kitchen and I sat my bag down on the counter. I grabbed a bottle of water and walked towards my bedroom. I figured that Jay had either left for the day or was still there, sleeping. He's a lazy ass. As I walked into the corridor I heard moaning coming for the door to the room. Was he cheating on me ?! I walked to the door and knocked on it. I heard whispering and the patter of feet scurrying across the room. I was mad. I picked the lock with a bobby pins and I knocked down the door. There he was. Jay fcking my sister. HOW THE FUCK COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME?! I stood there in the hallway pissed as ever. I leaned down picked up my pink bunny slippers and I walked out of the door. I heard Jay running after me. I walked faster but it seems like time was moving slow as ever. I crouched down, grabbed the keys my car and I walked out. I was pissed off, I hopped in my car and I drove back down the road that I had come from. I stopped at the light and I looked in the rearview mirror, that black Mustang was behind me. It must've been Jay's rental car or my sisters car that she was renting so she could sneak around without a trace. I drove down the block to the police station, I parked in the parking spot and I got out of the car. The Mustang pulled up right next to my car, I hurried inside, went to the little desk with the lady sitting behind the glass and I tapped on the window. I explained to her that somebody in a black Mustang was following me, and I had no idea who it was. She said to go into the waiting room and to wait for a police officer to escort me to my car. I got up to my car and they're on the windshield was a note from Jay. " i'm sorry that you had to find out this way. I thought I was dropping hints that I didn't want to be with you anymore. I'm sorry it had to be your sister but she so much hotter than you are. If you would like to talk about this you can call me, or you can meet me at the apartment." The police officer, looked at me and said "are you having troubles with your spouse?" I looked at him and said "it's way more than that". I thanked him for escorting me to my car. As I hopped in my phone rang, the name Julz popped up , I looked at it, and hit the off button so it sent it to voicemail. To be honest I don't really want to hear from her ever again. I drove towards my moms house. There was another coffee shop there it wasn't beans but it was called short stacks. They serve pancakes and coffee and I think it's amazing. I picked up my phone, six missed calls from my sister. Three voicemails from my sister. But no missed calls from Jay. No voicemails from Jay. I went onto Find Friends, and I found Jay, I found my sister, and they were still at the apartment. I got the Courage to call Jay. J: uh hello Me: don't speak, I don't want to hear from you. You have three days to move all your shit out of the apartment. If not I'll move it out for you. You and that disgusting person called my sister and get the fuck out of my life. Leave me alone. I can't believe you did this to me. You know how much I love you? I called your mom, she knows, she's pissed. I called my mom, she knows, she's pissed, tell my sister that she's not welcome at my moms house anymore. Go die in hell. I wasted three years of my life with you. J: baby it's not like that... I hung up. As I got to my moms house she was standing in the driveway with tears running down her face. I ran towards her open arms and she help me for a very long time. She told me that my sister was never welcomed back here because of what she did. That's not what we were told when we were younger, you don't cheat with anybody. Especially family. Jay was like a brother to her. Jay was my love. End note: If you feel like your spouse is cheating on you, talk to them. If they won't talk to you move out.

[hithisiseli]

I started planning our trip to the Grand Canyon with the following Google search:

“How to die at the Grand Canyon.”

Oh. Dear. Me.

There are so many ways to die at the Grand Canyon!

Seven hundred seventy people have died at the Grand Canyon since 1869!

There’s even an incredible interactive map about ways to die at the Grand Canyon. Like you can wear 3D glasses and look at it. And it’s based on a book! Tourists fall off the rim! People are murdered! And a mule even fell on one unlucky soul!

Should I read the book? No I should not.

Thirty six hours and 17 minutes and 3 seconds later I emerged from the interactive map.

Somehow I still wanted to go to the Grand Canyon.

We’ll just have to put Eli on a leash, I thought.

Word spread among the family about where we were headed.

It was February 2016.

We received a letter in the mail from our nephew, Alex.

Alex lives in Milwaukee and along with most of my niece and nephews and family sprinkled all over the Midwest, we don’t get to visit Alex more than once a year, which I feel like shit about, all year long!

Mark opened this delightful little envelope to a hand-written note explaining a real big  problem.

Alex had been flattened by a bulletin board. He’d slipped himself into a paper envelope and hoped to go with us on our upcoming trip to the Grand Canyon. Ya know, like the story, Flat Stanley, which his class happened to be reading.

  I may not be the greatest auntie, one to remember birthdays and attend ball games —  but this, this I could help do.

Alex you are about to get a mothaf*ckin A+. It. Is. Written.

When I get an idea in my head, such as, but not limited to, “Our family should see the Grand Canyon,” we’re going to go see the damn Grand Canyon.

Can I pause for a sec to say travel is so first world it’s not even funny. It’s sick, really. Even “budget” travel. The  ambitious trips we go on come in around $2K. But that’s a lot for us. That’s a lot for most Americans. Too much, actually.

I would like to rename travel ‘adventure.’ Because you can have an adventure at the park, and then you don’t have to feel bad that you can’t go traveling.

WTF ever how were we going to pay for this? I’m not going to sit here and pretend that piece was easy to figure out.

I’m also going to throw out here that Eli have cystic fibrosis makes me want to do a lot of stuff fast. See the ocean. Check, by 1.5 he’d been there. Now he’s 3. Grand Canyon.

Easy peasy not easy I needed to sell something.

My soul?

Nah, how about some words. Some dark, terrible, awful words.

I slung some extra and it ruined our lives for all of February, the exception being the people I wrote about, who were motivated to tell the story of how rural sheriff’s deputies shot and killed their son in the midst of his mental health crisis and in the middle of the family living room in front of his girlfriend. That was back a whole year and a half ago when Al Jazeera America existed and paid well for me to go do off-the-radar stories in Native America. For digital, a buck a word is pretty damn good, and I would eventually write 3,500 like a good little reporter paid by the word. I arrived in Duncan, Okla. “Al Jazeera…America?” a local mulled it over. He asked if I was in the Muslim Brotherhood. It jazzes suspicion up to say “Hi, I’m a freelance reporter for Al Jazeera America,” in rural Oklahoma, as it turned out.

But once we established I was not in the Muslim Brotherhood, this source I met, literally, at the random, in a neighborhood where all the private wells were contaminated by Halliburton, one of the most powerful entities in the state and fuggetabout this little town, drove me around and told me everything I needed to know.

Yes, I got in the car with a total stranger.

At one point we pulled up to a home that Halliburton bought because it contaminated the groundwater. A security guy rolled up and parked, and this gent I was with flored it in his Jeep. Rapid shifted us on outta there. OK that was probably unnecessary but it was pretty exciting.

“See, see what I mean?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, thinking the security guard was actually probably just on his phone.

The guy with the Jeep never made the story. But he made the story. And I got out alive in the town that Halliburton owned.

And yes, I got in the car with a stranger who had accused me of being an Islamic extreemist not moments before.

But Goddammit we were going to go to the Grand Canyon. And I needed a local.

I needed a keeper.

Have you watched ‘The Keepers?’ It’s a supersad documentary about awful things that happened to Catholic schoolgirls. The takeaway for my purposes is to tell you when you’re on a story that involves a mystery or a general lack of justice, find the keepers. The keepers will tell you all you need to know.

I wrote.

In came the check and off we went.

We packed a bunch of stuff into the car, including Flat Alex. He played with Laila and Eli for a while before I slipped him into a side pocket of my messenger bag. No problem, buddy. So far Alex proved himself a quiet and agreeable little chap. Laila and Eli –  take note.

We loaded up the family truckster and hopped on Interstate 40 in Oklahoma City and headed West. Our overall destination for the first leg of this Grand Canyon-bound sojourn: Santa Fe, New Mexico.

En route, Mark got a grand idea. Thirty years ago, at age 5, he’d been on a road trip with his parents and three sisters. Outside of Amarillo, Texas, at a Route 66 roadside attraction, the family stopped at so-called Cadillac Ranch, a line of half-buried Caddies in the Texas dirt. We decided to do the same thing.

Roughly 32 mood swings (none from Alex) , four hours and 260 miles later, we arrived in Amarillo. West of town, there they were, in a pasture, beyond a barbed wire fence, those half-buried Cadillacs jutting up from the earth that Mark remembered. Lots of people had the same idea we did, to get out of the car on this bright and sunny day and check out this tourist trap/art installation.

As we approached, Mark noticed things had changed in 30 years.

He did remember, at 5, seeing the cars. He didn’t remember so many people. Fifty or 75 milled around. There wasn’t spray paint back then either. A lot of people bought spray paint from a little girl and her dad out of the back of a pickup at the entrance. Word on the street was she was saving for a trip to Six Flags. She sold Diet Cokes and waters too. I noted I should have brought my daughter’s Girl Scout cookies out here and set up shop.

Man, was it dusty out in that field. The combination of wind, dust and aersosol paint did not make for a pleasant experience.

I immediately freaked out about Eli’s lungs.

We shouldn’t be here, in the dust and the fumes. This was ludicrous.

Who were these yahoos who thought it was an awesome idea to spray aerosol paint in the wind? Further polluting the supposed allure of the Cadillac Ranch? These people next threw empty spray cans on the ground.

And guess what Eli wanted to do – Pick up every half empty paint can he could find and see how it worked, of course! When I 86’d that little initiative, he dissed the spray cans for the colored lids, which made convenient shovels with which to mess around with the sticky, red, dusty dirt.

Ughghghghhg.

It was then I discovered Alex had a social conscience:

We snapped a few photos, including one in which I pretended this place was awesome.

Total lie.

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  I worried not only about Eli’s lungs but that dear Alex would fall victim to a Texas panhandle wind gust.

Every time we took Flat Alex out, we so worried for his safety. There were toddler hands. There was wind.

We exited and piled back into the car, vowing never to return.

Hey, Laila – did you like it the Cadillac Ranch?

“No, I didn’t like it.”

Eli-how about you?

“No.”

Right.

Next stop: Santa Fe.

In attempt at vacation cost control, we booked a campsite in the middle of Santa Fe at Los Suenos RV Park & Campground. We don’t have an RV – we have a tent. The Trip Advisor reviews seemed solid and staff were super friendly on the phone.

As we rolled along I-40 and into New Mexico, our elevation hit more than 7000 feet compared to just 1200 feet in Oklahoma, which was once the bottom of an ocean. Rolling Texas hills opened up into scrubby plains-mesa, where we saw antelope crossing signs, but no antelopes, jack rabbits and wild turkeys. We drove through a small dust storm.

Then a snow storm hit.

Wait, what? Cuz we were camping and I didn’t pack for snow and cold temps.

Like we really didn’t have enough blankets for a snowstorm. What is this the Oregon Trail?

Oh dear God, night was falling.

What were we going to do?

And would we even survive?

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Grand Canyon, chasm of death, the road trip: ‘No, I’m not in the Muslim Brotherhood,’ followed by apocalypse in Texas panhandle I started planning our trip to the Grand Canyon with the following Google search: "How to die at the Grand Canyon."

[nunquamidem]

Denechamps 10th Anniversary Draft Analysis: Yahoo Sucks Edition

Intro:

Alright, assholes. As Devin so eloquently stated in Vegas, the message boards have gone to shit. I'm not sure if it's because we all talk via group text, use the in-app messenger, or what, but we gotta get back to our roots.

For me, that means comprehensive analysis of everything, as long as it makes me look good. Fortunately, y'all made it easy to kick things off with your collective shit-ass drafting skills.

Zach got so high he fell into a deep sleep and dreamed about drafting a decent team, Devin managed to sober draft his way to the 3rd worst team in the league, Pat ordered a $200 bottle of Tito's to pair with his league-leading 8 steals in the draft, and I reached on Shady with the 3rd overall pick and still managed to put together a better team than all of you.

Enough exposition - let's get into it!

You All Have Low-T:

No, I'm not talking about the type of "Low-T" that's got Chris popping Viagra and snorting powdered deer penis like it's a line of coke at a frat party - I'm talking about the revolutionary new scoring system I developed to showcase how good I am.

"Let me guess - your dumb shit new score says you had the best draft?"

You're goddamn right it did.

"Alright, I'll bite. What is it and why did you make that corny ass dad joke about Low-T?"

Ah, yeah! Well, it's called the "T-Score", because of course I named it after myself.

How does it work? Well, it's an aggregate grade based on a number of factors and data sources. I used FantasyPros ECR (which in itself is an aggregate grade of the 25 top fantasy experts in 2016), Yahoo's "Draft Report Card" grade converted into a number grade, and FootballGuys' draft analysis combined with Pat's pre-draft survey. The last one there is actually really interesting, but I'll get into greater detail on that in a sec.

"Okay, wow, don't care. Just show me the scores."

Ask and you shall receive:

“What are the boxes around the “FFG” scores?”

Well, that’s where I used Pat’s survey data and integrated it with FootballGuys’ post-draft playoff probabilities. Everyone graded themselves and the rest of the league on their perceived talent and fantasy football savvy. I took the “Skill” and “Rank” grades, combined them into a single “Grade”, and divided them into tiers based on 1/3 percentiles. Here’s what that all looked like:

On the right, you’ll see the final combined “Grade” along with clear demarcations for each tier.

“You’re losing me. What does any of this have to do with anything?”

When you input a team into FootballGuys’ draft analyzer, they spit out a calculation of how likely you are to make the playoffs with said team. This is calculated using our league settings and their own proprietary algorithmic magic, and is presented in three talent tiers: Great in-season management, Good in-season management, and Average in-season management. Hence the tiers! I haven’t been able to do the math because the league record book isn’t up and running yet, but I’d venture to guess the tiers derived from Pat’s survey would line up pretty well with everyone’s individual records over the past few years. Isn’t it neat when data backs up reality?

Anyway, let’s get to the team-by-team breakdown. I’ll be presenting all the data I aggregated for each team in order of “T-Score”, so you might as well scroll right by #1, cause it ain’t you.

Team Breakdowns:

#1 Theo:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

FLEX (1st)

RB2 (1st)

QB (2nd)

Weaknesses:

WR1 (9th)

WR2 (9th)

Notes:

In spite of having dogshit, bottom-of-the-barrel wide receivers, I still managed to draft the best overall team in the league. Plenty of RB depth - perhaps even too much - will hopefully mitigate my garbage-tier WRs and lack of depth at the position. 

And just think - what happens if AP goes down? Mark Ingram is RB1. And if Gillislee takes over Blount’s roll in NE, as a 10th round pick? Hot damn!

With the best starters in the league and the 4th best bench, expectations are high.

#2 Mikey:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

WR1 (1st)

K (1st)

DST (2nd)

Weaknesses:

FLEX (9th)

RB1 (7th)

WR2 (7th)

Notes:

Mikey did well to draft a team whose starters will all likely churn out steady points week in and week out. Brown is a sure thing (even if he scares me), Zeke plays behind a super-good offensive line (when he’s not on the couch serving his suspension or assaulting women), and Gore is a guaranteed 3-4 points per week. I his team struggling out the gate without Zeke, though, because I don’t see a ton big-play potential on the team outside of AB. Maybe Demarco?

#3 Pat:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

WR1 (2nd)

K (2nd)

Flex (3rd)

Weaknesses:

RB1 (9th)

QB (6th)

DST (6th)

Notes:

In strikingly non-Pat fashion, this team is lacking at RB. Ever the fan of Gurley (#9 RB1 based on ECR), this team really strikes me as boom-or-bust. Luck is a huge question mark with his injury, who knows who will be throwing to Nuk (and if he’ll get back to ‘15 fantasy relevance), and Gurley and Hyde are hardly sure things. A solid bench should buoy any regression or injuries, but a deep bench can be torture when you’re trying to decide who to start at FLEX.

#4 Dustin:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

WR2 (3rd)

WR1 (4th)

RB1 (4th)

Weaknesses:

DST (9th)

K (8th)

RB2 (7th)

Notes:

Dustin's team is a mystery. I really like Freeman at RB1, but as a Ty Montgomery holder last year, I'm not sure how much I trust him at RB2. Jordan Reed is guaranteed to spend some time injured, Baldwin's ceiling is inexorably tied to how well the 'Hawks o-line plays, and A.J. Green has to slow down at some point... right? CMac, Maclin, and Parker could help down the stretch, but there will be a lot of questions until the season starts rolling.

#5 Chris:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

TE (2nd)

WR1 (3rd)

RB2 (5th)

Weaknesses:

QB (10th)

K (9th)

WR2 (8th)

Notes:

I don't trust Howard, Mixon is a rookie playing behind a subpar o-line with TD-vulture-extraordinaire Jeremy Hill looming, Watkins is a tackle or two away from shattering his everything, and none of the bench guys here really catch my eye. I could be wrong, but outside of OBJ and Kelce I don't see a lot going on, and the latter isn’t really a sure thing himself. Chris knows how to make moves, though, so I anticipate a different - stronger - team once the season gets underway.

#6 Ashley:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

TE (1st)

DST (1st)

RB1 (2nd)

Weaknesses:

RB2 (9th)

QB (8th)

WR1 (8th)

Notes:

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Ash took Gronk. Assuming he stays healthy, it’ll add some much needed firepower (and more TD’s for me through Brady) to her team. Outside of Gronk and Bell, there really isn’t a whole lot going on. KC DST is ranked #1 by FPros ECR and Crosby #3, which is nice, but streaming has made drafted kickers and defenses borderline obsolete. I don't trust Abdullah, Alshon, or Fitzgerald (because of RB competition, QB/injury, and age respectively), and T.Y. Hilton is only good if Luck stays healthy. A single injury could completely derail this team.

#7 Shoob:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

QB (1st) FLEX (2nd) RB1 (5th)

Weaknesses:

TE (10th) RB2 (8th) DST (8th)

Notes:

FootballGuys’ straight up loved Shoob’s team, while FantasyPros and Yahoo thought it was butts. Just goes to show you why it’s imperative to pull from multiple data sources! I, personally, see some cause for concern. Rodgers is great, but has had rough starts to the year the past couple seasons. His WRs are also a cause for concern: Jordy is getting older, I see a regression to the mean for Cobb and don’t know if I trust Adams - even if he’s on my team. Ajayi could be huge, but he could also cake his pants - 22% of his yards came on six 30-plus yard carries, which is a stat I chalk up to luck moreso than talent. Ware is nursing injuries and has to fend off Hunt coming for his touches. Who’s throwing to DT? Will Thomas step up as a true WR1 now that Cooks has departed to NE? Speaking of Cooks (a pick I loved, by the way), will he pay dividends in Bellichick’s system? Lots of question marks, but I’m inclined to side more with FootballGuys’ analysis than Yahoo and FantasyPros on this team.

#8 Jeremy:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

WR2 (1st)

DST (2nd)

QB (5th)

Weaknesses:

RB1 (10th)

TE (7th)

RB2 (6th)

Notes:

Another team that FootballGuys’ loved and FantasyPros/Yahoo hated. Pat’s survey placed Jeremy in the bottom tier of managers in the league, though, which gave Jeremy the 75% figure rather than the 90% he’d have secured with a higher survey grade. That  knocked him down from the #6 T-Score to #8. I personally don't trust Jeremy's team at all. I don't trust Wilson (notes from my draft board: o-line sucks, won't sit in the pocket and deliver, prefers to roll out but has taken a beating - due for an injury?), Lynch is old, Cook is a rookie who will compete with Murray (edge: experience) and McKinnon (edge: physicality / goal-line vulture), Jordy is a RZ target maven but is getting up there in age and injuries are a concern, Pryor is still learning WR, Texans DST is going to disappoint with their now patchwork secondary, and there's not much startable help on the bench. Lots of upside pieces on this team, but I get the feeling that everything has to go right for ol' Jer-bear to sniff the postseason.

#9 Devin:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

RB2 (2nd)

WR2 (2nd)

QB (7th)

Weaknesses:

RB1 (8th)

TE (8th)

FLEX (8th)

Notes:

Devin really put together a mixed bag here..

Panthers don't want Cam to run, but Cam is good at running. Hope and pray that Benjamin dad-dicks the league the way he did JJo last preaseaon game, or you're in for disappointment. Fournette is a rookie on a team that's going to be playing from behind a lot with an average o-line, but he has an easy schedule and little competition. I haaaaaaaaaaaaated the Lamar Miller pick - Texans' line is in-flux at best/garbage at worst, and BoB wants to work Foreman and Blue into the gameplan more. Dez was a reach. Cooper is solid if he can get his TDs up. AP is old and probably won't account for more than 60% of NO's carries (assuming he stays healthy). Everything else is just... varying levels of "meh"

#10 Zach:

FantasyPros ECR:

FootballGuys’ Playoff Odds:

Strengths:

RB1 (1st)

Weaknesses:

RB2 (10th) WR1 (10th) WR2 (10th)

Notes:

Yeesh.

Let’s all take a second to appreciate that David Johnson ended up on what is essentially a non-competing team.

Zach. Buddy. The weed, liquor, and pursuit of poon that came with the Vegas draft really did a number to your team.

Let me list out the players you reached on (i.e., drafted 2+ rounds before their ADP, according to FantasyPros ECR):

Kelvin Benjamin (#96) Tyreek Hill (#82) Brandon Marshall (#104) Eli Manning (#107) Derrick Henry (#84) Zach Ertz (#98) Randall Cobb (#130) Sebastian Janikowski (#231) Jamaal Charles (#124) Kevin White (#162) Antonio Gates (#186)

Again, yeesh.

Et cetera:

Curious to see how everybody voted in Pat’s poll? Be curious no more! I had to guess who submitted what, so it might not be perfect, but there are only a couple that were in question.

Interesting anomalies:

Skill

The only people who believe Devin to be anything bordering on competent are Zach, Jeremy, and Devin himself.

Devin, Chris, and Zach think considerably less about Pat’s skill level than the rest of the league.

The only person go give me a sub-5 grade? None other than the reigning Sacko himself, Devin!

Devin and Mikey have much higher opinions of Jeremy than the rest of the league.

Ashley was the only person to receive no “Skill” grades over 5 from her peers.

Mikey, Jeremy, and Shoob were the kindest voters.

Dustin, Chris, and Ashley were the most critical voters.

Team Name commonalities:

Conclusion:

That’s it! This took way longer than I had planned, but here we are. Now go forth and post dumb shit on the message board!