#the johnson cousins strike again

[fuckingthefictional]

All I want- (part one)

Michael Gray x reader

Written version of this gifset that I made, bonus points for anyone who can find the lyrics to a certain song that inspired this.

Next Chapter is found —> here

For @finallyforgotten who wanted more of this :)

Henry used to be Y/N’s knight in shining armour. He was always there, he was perfect and filled her up with all the love that she could possibly want or need.

He used to tell Y/N that she was a star in his eyes, he’d hold the door open for her and hold her hand in the dark.

He was just always there.

And Y/N felt as if she was never alone. Until one day she was.

When Henry suddenly left, it caused a brewing storm to swirl inside of the pit of the young woman’s stomach.

But when Y/N brought it up with her mother, the only claim was that “men like Henry were perfect on paper, but they lie to the face.”

It frustrated her- did Henry think she was the kind of girl who needed to be saved. Is that why he took such interest in her? Because she was an easy target?

All of these questions just created more stress and sadness to strike Y/N’s body. She didn’t know who to trust or believe anymore.

It didn’t matter what she conjured up in her mind- All that stood was that Henry had left and with him he took Y/N’s heart.

But he’d left something with her, something that he didn’t know about. And that was his child- the same child that grew within Y/N.

“Ticket ma’am?”

Y/N looked up from her book to see a portly looking train conductor stood in front of her.

“Yes, sorry.” She reached down to her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper, handing it to the gentleman.

He inspected it for a moment, before puncturing a hole into the side, “Are you sure you’re meant to be taking a single to London miss?”

Y/N’s heart leapt up into her throat, “Yes, my mother purchased the ticket for me, I’m to meet my cousin at the station.” She rambled on.

The train conductor passed the slip of paper back, “if you say so.” He mumbled before walking away.

It was only half true, Y/N mused, she was meeting her cousin at the station and her mother did purchase the ticket for her. But she was going to London indefinitely, to have her baby out of the prying eyes of her neighbours.

As her father said before she left, ‘she and her cousin could be the family disgraces together’.

Y/N watched as the world went past, flashes of green melted into a drab mix of greys.

Her new life was moments away, as the train pulled into King’s cross station.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N heaved down her luggage (careful to avoid her stomach region) and began to disembark off the steam engine.

She scanned around frantically, praying that she hadn’t been stood up by her cousin.

“Y/N!”

Whipping around at the sound of her name, she came face to face with her older cousin.

James, wasn’t much older than she was. He was a few years older than she (but he took great pride in bragging about it and holding it over her head).

In fact it had been a good few years since Y/N had even seen James, as he was banned from the family when he was 17.

After he was caught in bed with another male- it meant nothing to Y/N then and nothing to her now.

He was happy, if he found love in the arms of a man then who was she to judge? - she was 17, pregnant and unmarried.

“James!” The pair embraced, swaying as the did so.

“Come on,” the man exclaimed, “we can talk more when we get home.” And with that he picked up the luggage and guided her through the station.

~

“So how come you’ve suddenly decided to come and live with me hmm?”

Y/N paused, debating on what to say but ultimately deciding that there was no point in hiding it at this point.

“I’m pregnant.” She spoke, “and father is ready to disown me so, they sent me to you.”

“Jesus Y/N/N you’re 17,” he rubbed his face with his hands, “You’re practically a child yourself.”

Y/N felt her body shake, “you know if I had a bobbin for every time someone has said that to me, I’d be a fucking millionaire,” she laughed without humour, “I’m going to be a mother james, and every single time someone says what you said, I become more determined to be a good mum.”

“Y/N sit down for a second and stop ranting.” James pointed opposite to the chair she’d previously been occupying, “What I was going to say was that you’re young, so you’re going to need all the support you can get. Which is why I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”

-

Months later, Y/N was nearing the last month of her pregnancy.

It wasn’t an overreaction to say that she was big. She felt like a bloated whale.

But the young mother found herself getting support from both James and Ada.

God, Y/N was so thankful for Ada. She was the most genuine, caring and hardworking woman that Y/N had ever met.

They’d become great friends ever since they had first met.

The older woman was understanding, but not disconcerting. Loving, but not in a smothering sort of way. Supportive and just damn genuine.

Ada became like the older sister she never had growing up, and the latter was but all happy to take on that role.

She was the one that Y/N could confide in- even about Henry.

“What about the father?”

Y/N looked down, tears already pooling in her eyes, “He’s a boy from my past.” She sniffled,”We fell in love but it didn’t last.”

Ada looked sympathetic, “What happened?”

Y/N found herself shrugging, “It was just like- the second I figured it out he pushed me away,” she steadied her voice, “And I won’t fight for love if he won’t meet me half way- I won’t do it Ada. And I say that I’m through with him, but here I am talking and crying over him.”

Y/N looked at her friend who seemed to be waiting for her to carry on, “All I want it a good guy,” she stated, “Are my expectations far to high? Is there something wrong with me for wanting that?”

Ada just leant forwards, placing her hands on top of Y/N’s shaking ones, “Look- I’ve been through all of these questions. There’s nothing wrong with you okay- I mean look at you Y/N,” she pointed at the other girl’s body, “You’re trying your best at the end of the day, you’re not alone, you have me, Karl, James and Your own child and that is enough for me. You should be proud.”

It was through Ada that Y/N met Thomas Shelby for the first time- which at the time she hadn’t known but would become her future employer.

What was there to say about Thomas Shelby. He was intimidating, he demanded the power of the room. And his eyes- God his eyes. They were piercing blue and just made you cold by looking at them.

The first time Y/N had met the man, she swore she could feel her child squirm inside her, almost as if they were turning away in comfort.

But Ada soon set the record straight, reassuring her brother that Y/N was trusted by her and that the younger girl was a close friend.

The second time that Tommy and Y/N ran into each other was quite literally so. Y/N had been going out for walks (something recommended by her doctor), she was due any day at that point.

She’d been walking in her own little world, fantasising about what her child would look like. Whether they would have Henry’s unruly curls or her eyes.

And then she walked into a wall. A rather tall, slim wall. That spoke with a Brummie accent...and wore a pocket watch.

It was by then that Y/N had realised that it wasn’t actually a brick wall she’d stumbled into. But in fact Thomas Shelby.

Immediately you had stuttered an apology, explaining why you had been so out of it.

He took one look at you. A quick up and down. Before he spoke, “When’re you due?”

The answer caught Y/N completely off guard, she had been expecting a threat for scuffing up his shoes.

“Um, actually I’m due any day now.” She stammered, rubbing her belly lovingly. It was strange really- just how quick she’d grown to love the life inside of her.

The Brummie hummed in understanding, “I remember when Ada was that far along with Karl- a right bloody firecracker she was.”

Y/N smiled slightly, it sure sounded like Ada.

“Listen- Ada would ‘ave my bollocks on a silver platter if I didn’t walk you back to the ‘ouse,” Tommy licked his lips, “So.” He gestured to the arm he was holding out.

“Thank you Mr Shelby.” Y/N said, holding on his arm as they walked the last few streets.

“Tommy- call me Tommy.”

-

Matthew James Johnson was born kicking and screaming on the 14th of February at exactly 2 o’clock in the morning.

He weighed in at 6 pounds and 4 ounces and was everything Y/N could’ve ever imagined or hoped for.

As predicted Matthew held a head full of soft, blonde curls (just like his father) and his eyes were her own Y/E/C. He was just the perfect little mix of her and Henry.

And even though it broke her heart at first, she eventually began to see it as a blessing. Her baby was someone who she would love forever, who she would never let down.

-

A months later Y/N strolled into the apartment angrily. She was turned out of a job, yet again. It felt like it was becoming an impossible feat.

She was simply just unemployable, which angered her hugely.

Y/N was a mother for Christ’s sake, she had a baby who depended on her. How on earth was she supposed to do that for someone if she couldn’t even get a steady stream of income coming through the door.

Matthew was around 8 months old now, he was a troublemaker- but still managed to capture his mother’s heart at every glance. He made Y/N’s life worth it, he really did.

Slamming the large door behind her, she shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the coat rack. There was another that had been added to the normal pile.

Ada’s family must’ve been visiting again. She quietly crept through the hallway, attempting to stay out of the eyes of the Shelby family.

It would’ve worked mind you- if Matthew hadn’t spotted you through the crack in the doorway.

“Ma-ma-ma.” He babbled happily from the floor.

Y/N walked in almost guiltily, scooping up her baby boy from the carpet and planting a soft kiss on his rosy red cheeks.

Ada stopped mid conversation and looked up at Y/N hopefully, “So?”

“Turned away.” The young mother answered frustratedly, “It getting tiring now Ada, I-“

“Ada love, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” The voice came from a stern looking woman.

“Pol,” Ada turned the woman, “This is Y/N- James’ cousin and a close friend of mine.” She turned to the girl who was still holding the wriggling baby, “And this is Matthew, Y/N’s baby boy and my godson.”

Polly was stared intently at the boy in Y/N’s arms. The stare itself was calculating and judgemental but Y/N felt...oddly safe around the woman.

“He’s a beautiful boy,” She spoke softly, “reminds me of my Michael when he was this size.”

Y/N just smiled awkwardly, she had no clue who Michael was, she cleared her throat, asking timidly “Would you like to hold him?”

The older woman opened her arms for the child, and when Matthew was safe in them he gurgled happily.

The door creaked open again, this time Tommy walked through the frame.

The pair had actually become quite good friends of the past months. There was nothing romantic, or remotely sexual about their relationship. It was just a friendship.

Tommy was an the older brother, he kept and eye out and looked out for the girl and her son.

“Y/N.” He nodded to the girl, “When did you get in?”

“Just now,” she replied, “Job interview ran over.”

“And?” He prompted, hand digging in his blazer pocket for a cigarette.

“No smoking around the children Tommy- you know the rules,” Y/N reminded him, “And it didn’t go well- they turned me away.”

Tommy appeared to be deep in thought, “My fiancé is due to have a baby in May.” He paused again, “If you’d accept- I’d be happy to hire you as the baby’s nanny.”

“But Matthew-“

“Can stay with you while you work, it’s only a matter of balancing your family life and work life.”

“Has your fiancé agreed with this arrangement?” Y/N folded her arms.

“She will, she trusts me- and I trust you.” Tommy looked deeply at you, “So?”

“Okay.” The young woman looked at Ada, “I’ll do it.”

[nicklloydnow]

“In the case of Afghanistan, America’s refusal to countenance the return of Zahir Shah may well have proved to be their greatest failure of imagination yet.

(…)

We were ushered into the garden room, there, on cane furniture, sat two old men. One, slightly-sunken of face but alert and with a smile waltzing over his lips, the other of a more military bearing. Dust eddied in the shafts of light as we passed, then settled as we did. We were visiting the 86 year old Zahir Shah, King of Afghanistan for 40 years between 1933 and 1973. With him was Lieutenant-General Sardar Abdul Wali Khan, who acted as an interpreter, it was entirely unnecessary as the King would answer in accurate though halting English.

We were there to discover if the old man was interested, or even able, to take up the reins again. His time as monarch (ended in a palace coup by his cousin, Mohamed Daud) had been one of unprecedented peace and prosperity for the mountain kingdom. In the late 1960s he introduced a new democratic constitution. Amongst other things, it guaranteed women’s rights and elections. He was also someone who was able to garner loyalty not just from his native Pashtun people, but from the Hazara, Tajik and Uzbeck minorities and the confidence of many of the regional powers.

The exiled king spoke of his visceral love for the country. That and his deep sadness. How, from his Roman exile he had seen his land first became a dictatorship after a palace coup, then a Soviet satellite state, ending in a Soviet inspired coup, the Soviet invasion of 1979 and the civil war that saw the death of 400,000 of its citizens between 1979 and the fall of the Taliban. Estimates suggest upwards of 10 per cent of the entire population were killed during that period, a salutary realisation that even 20 years ago Afghanistan had been a killing field for the previous 20 years.

(…)

These events had not dimmed the king’s desire to do what he could for the nation. He had told us he would do anything to secure peace. As he went on to do. Within a week of our meeting, he had made an informal agreement with the anti-Taliban Mujahedeen of the Northern Alliance.

(…)

At this point things were looking promising for a return of the king. But Pakistani Intelligence, the ISI, was uncomfortable with the prospect of a moderate in power in Afghanistan, and was even less happy by the combination of a Pashtun king, with the support of the Tajik, Uzbek and Hazara dominated Northern Alliance having political power.

Zahir at no time demanded the throne — indeed the Tajik, former President and leader of the Jamiat-e Islami rejected the idea out of hand — his offer was to convene a Loya Jorga, a gathering of all the tribal notables to create a new constitution. In November of that year the Bonn conference, which included all Afghan factions barring the Taliban, supported him as the interim leader.

And yet, by the time Zahir returned to Kabul with Hamed Karzi, the US had gone completely cold on the idea. Now their chosen man was Karzai, soon after American-led forces had driven the Taliban out of Kabul in 2002. It is clear that the US’s retreat from supporting the monarchical option was in part driven by their ties with the Pakistani ISI, for years they had starved the moderate Afghan nationalist Haq of support whilst feeding the Islamist factions of the Northern alliance.

(…)

The US, though it was aware of the possibilities of an Afghan solution to an Afghan problem, and a solution that could have utilised the residual loyalty of the Afghan peoples, decided against. The rest is dour, bloody history.”

“All empires die. The end is usually unpleasant. The American empire, humiliated in Afghanistan, as it was in Syria, Iraq, and Libya, as it was at the Bay of Pigs and in Vietnam, is blind to its own declining strength, ineptitude, and savagery. Its entire economy, a “military Keynesianism,” revolves around the war industry. Military spending and war are the engine behind the nation’s economic survival and identity. It does not matter that with each new debacle the United States turns larger and larger parts of the globe against it and all it claims to represent. It has no mechanism to stop itself, despite its numerous defeats, fiascos, blunders and diminishing power, from striking out irrationally like a wounded animal. The mandarins who oversee our collective suicide, despite repeated failure, doggedly insist we can reshape the world in our own image. This myopia creates the very conditions that accelerate the empire’s demise.

The Soviet Union collapsed, like all empires, because of its ossified, out-of-touch rulers, its imperial overreach, and its inability to critique and reform itself. We are not immune from these fatal diseases. We silence our most prescient critics of empire, such as Noam Chomsky, Angela Davis, Andrew Bacevich, Alfred McCoy, and Ralph Nader, and persecute those who expose the truths about empire, including Julian Assange, Edward Snowden, Daniel Hale, and John Kiriakou. At the same time a bankrupt media, whether on MSNBC, CNN or FOX, lionizes and amplifies the voices of the inept and corrupt political, military and intelligence class including John Bolton, Leon Panetta, Karl Rove, H.R. McMaster and David Petraeus, which blindly drives the nation into the morass.

Chalmers Johnson in his trilogy on the fall of the American empire – “Blowback,” “The Sorrows of Empire” and “Nemesis” – reminds readers that the Greek goddess Nemesis is “the spirit of retribution, a corrective to the greed and stupidity that sometimes governs relations among people.” She stands for “righteous anger,” a deity who “punishes human transgression of the natural, right order of things and the arrogance that causes it.” He warns that if we continue to cling to our empire, as the Roman Republic did, “we will certainly lose our democracy and grimly await the eventual blowback that imperialism generates.”

“I believe that to maintain our empire abroad requires resources and commitments that will inevitably undercut our domestic democracy and, in the end, produce a military dictatorship or its civilian equivalent,” Johnson writes. “The founders of our nation understood this well and tried to create a form of government – a republic – that would prevent this from occurring. But the combination of huge standing armies, almost continuous wars, military Keynesianism, and ruinous military expenses have destroyed our republican structure in favor of an imperial presidency. We are on the cusp of losing our democracy for the sake of keeping our empire. Once a nation is started down that path, the dynamics that apply to all empires come into play – isolation, overstretch, the uniting of forces opposed to imperialism, and bankruptcy. Nemesis stalks our life as a free nation.”

If the empire was capable of introspection and forgiveness, it could free itself from its death spiral. If the empire disbanded, much as the British empire did, and retreated to focus on the ills that beset the United States it could free itself from its death spiral. But those who manipulate the levers of empire are unaccountable. They are hidden from public view and beyond public scrutiny. They are determined to keep playing the great game, rolling the dice with lives and national treasure. They will, I expect, preside gleefully over the deaths of even more Afghans, assuring themselves it is worth it, without realizing that the gallows they erect are for themselves.”

“We waged war in Afghanistan - twenty years of war, thousands of American lives lost, tens of thousands of Afghan lives lost, over 2 trillion dollars spent - but we did not wage peace. We went, we fought, we supported a corrupt Afghan government almost as abusive to the people there as the Taliban had been, we droned, we bombed, we tried to build an army of some of the historically best fighters in the world in the image of the American armed forces (so arrogant are we), we tried to build an Afghanistan in the image of our own country (so delusional are we) - and yeah, we did some good things too. In the end, we aren’t just the last in a long line of empires defeated in Afghanistan. Even worse, we’re the last in a long line of empires that raped and plundered it before we left.

God help us, if we don’t learn from this.”

[aion-rsa]

HBO Max New Releases:. July 2021

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

LeBron James might be out of the NBA playoffs, but he’s still angling to be a big part of the summer entertainment season. That’s because HBO Max’s list of new releases for July 2021 is highlighted by a very special sequel.

Space Jam: A New Legacy premieres on July 16. will find LeBron teaming up with the Looney Tunes in a Warner Bros. IP-extravaganza. Can ‘Bron and the Looney Tunes beat the Goon Squad before Warner Bros.’ server steals LeBron “Bronny” Jr.’s soul (or something)? Let’s hope so. The two other major WB releases this month, No Sudden Move and Tom and Jerry in New York, both come to HBO Max on July 1.

HBO Max is also bringing some fun TV shows to its stream this month. The long-awaited Gossip Girl revival premieres on July 8. That will be followed by Mike White’s satirical limited series The White Lotus on July 11. Ronan Farrow’s excellent book Catch and Kill gets a docuseries adaptation on July 12.

July 1 will see the arrival of library titles like Planet of the Apes, Reservoir Dogs, and Scream. Recent hit Judas and the Black Messiah comes to HBO Max on that date as well. It’s a good month for geek TV with the Doctor Who 2020 Christmas Special (July 1), Nancy Drew season 2 (July 3), and Batwoman season 2 (July 27) all coming home to their streaming residence.

HBO Max New Releases – July 2021

TBA FBOY Island, Max Original Season 1 Premiere Romeo Santos: King of Bachata, 2021 (HBO) Romeo Santos Utopia Live from MetLife Stadium, 2021 (HBO)

July 1 ¡Come! (aka Eat!), 2020 8 Mile, 2002 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven 2, 1996 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven, 1989 (HBO) Behind Enemy Lines, 1997 (HBO) Beneath the Planet of the Apes, 1970 (HBO) Bio-Dome, 1996 (HBO) Black Panthers, 1968 Blackhat, 2015 (HBO) Brubaker, 1980 (HBO) Cantinflas (HBO) Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, 1972 (Extended Version) (HBO) Cousins, 1989 (HBO) Dark Water, 2005 (HBO) Darkness Falls, 2003 (HBO) Demolition Man, 1993 Dirty Work, 1998 (HBO) Disturbia, 2007 (HBO) Doctor Who Holiday 2020 Special: Revolution of the Daleks, 2020 Duplex, 2003 (HBO) Escape from the Planet of the Apes, 1971 (HBO) Eve’s Bayou, 1997 Firestarter, 1984 (HBO) First, 2012 For Colored Girls, 2010 (HBO) For Greater Glory: The True Story of Cristiada, 2012 (HBO) Full Bloom, Max Original Season 2 Finale Ghost in the Machine, 1993 (HBO) The Good Lie, 2014 (HBO) Gun Crazy, 1950 House on Haunted Hill, 1999 Identity Thief, 2013 (Extended Version) (HBO) Ira & Abby, 2007 (HBO) Joe Versus the Volcano, 1990 Judas and the Black Messiah, 2021 (HBO) Laws Of Attraction, 2004 (HBO) Lucky, 2017 (HBO) Maid in Manhattan, 2002 Married to the Mob, 1988 (HBO) Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, 1997 Mississippi Burning, 1988 (HBO) Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mousehunt, 1997 (HBO) My Brother Luca (HBO) No Sudden Move Pleasantville, 1998 The Prince of Tides, 1991 Project X, 1987 (HBO) The Punisher, 2017 (HBO) Punisher: War Zone, 2008 (HBO) Rambo, 2008 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Reds, 1981 (HBO) Reservoir Dogs, 1992 (HBO) The Return of the Living Dead, 1985 (HBO) Return of the Living Dead III, 1993 (Extended Version) (HBO) Rounders, 1998 (HBO) Saturday Night Fever, 1977 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Scream, 1996 Scream 2, 1997 Scream 3, 2000 Semi-Tough, 1977 (HBO) The Sessions, 2012 (HBO) Set Up, 2012 (HBO) Snake Eyes, 1998 (HBO) Staying Alive, 1983 (HBO) Stuart Little, 1999 The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, 2003 Tom and Jerry in New York, Max Original Series Premiere Trick ‘R Treat, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Daddy’s Little Girls, 2007 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Diary of a Mad Black Woman, 2005 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s I Can Do Bad All by Myself, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes To Jail, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Big Happy Family, 2011 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Family Reunion, 2006 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married Too, 2010 (HBO) The Watcher, 2016 (HBO) The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep, 2007 (HBO) Westworld (Movie), 1973 White Chicks (Unrated & Uncut Version), 2004 The White Stadium, 1928 Won’t Back Down, 2012 (HBO) Zero Days, 2016 (HBO)

July 2 Lo Que Siento por Ti (aka What I Feel for You) (HBO)

July 3 Let Him Go, 2020 (HBO) Nancy Drew, Season 2

July 7 Dr. STONE, Seasons 1 and 2 (Subtitled) (Crunchyroll Collection) Shiva Baby, 2021 (HBO)

July 8 The Dog House: UK, Max Original Season 2 Premiere Gossip Girl, Max Original Series Premiere Human Capital, 2020 (HBO) The Hunt, 2020 (HBO) Looney Tunes Cartoons, Max Original Season 2 Premiere

July 9 Frankie Quinones: Superhomies (HBO)

July 11 The White Lotus, Limited Series Premiere (HBO)

July 12 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 15 Tom & Jerry, 2021 (HBO)

July 16 Betty, Season 2 Finale (HBO) Space Jam: A New Legacy, Warner Bros. Film Premiere, 2021  Un Disfraz Para Nicolas (aka A Costume for Nicolas) (HBO)

July 17 The Empty Man, 2020 (HBO)

July 18 100 Foot Wave, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 22 Through Our Eyes, Max Original Documentary Series Premiere

July 23 Corazon De Mezquite (aka Mezquite’s Heart) (HBO)

July 24 Freaky, 2020 (HBO)

July 26 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Finale (HBO)

July 27 Batwoman, Season 2 Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel (HBO)

July 30 Uno Para Todos (aka One for All) (HBO)

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Leaving HBO Max – July 2021  

July 3 The ABC’s Of Covid-19: A CNN/Sesame Street Town Hall for Kids and Parents Part 2, 2020

July 4 Annabelle, 2014 Annabelle Comes Home, 2019 (HBO) The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It, 2021 The Curse of La Llorona, 2019 The Nun, 2018

July 5 Lost And Delirious, 2001

July 8 Mad Max: Fury Road, 2015

July 10 It: Chapter 2, 2019 (HBO)

July 11 An Elephant’s Journey, 2018 In the Heights, 2021 Thanks for Sharing, 2013

July 15 Burlesque, 2010

July 17 The Notebook, 2004

July 26 The King’s Speech, 2010

July 31 17 Again, 2009 A Clockwork Orange, 1971 A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, 1985 A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, 1988 A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child, 1989 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 1984 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 2010 Adam’s Rib, 1949 America’s Sweethearts, 2001 Anaconda, 1997 The Apparition, 2012 (HBO) Are We There Yet?, 2005 Argo, 2012 (Alternate Version) (HBO) AVP: Alien vs. Predator, 2004 (Alternate Version) (HBO) Badlands, 1973 Beau Brummel, 1954 The Benchwarmers, 2006 Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2, 2011 (HBO) Beverly Hills Chihuahua 3: Viva La Fiesta!, 2012 (HBO) Billy Madison, 1995 (HBO) The Book Of Eli, 2010 (HBO) Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992 Bringing Up Baby, 1938 The City of Lost Children, 1995 The Color Purple, 1985 The Comebacks, 2007 (Alternate Version) (HBO) The Conjuring 2, 2016 The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course, 2002 (HBO) Don’t Let Go, 2019 (HBO) Downton Abbey, 2019 (HBO) El Angel (aka The Angel), 2018 (HBO) Eyes Wide Shut, 1999 Fool’s Gold, 2008 Fort Tilden, 2015 (HBO) The Four Feathers, 2002 (HBO) The Gay Divorcee, 1934 Get A Job, 2016 (HBO) The Goonies, 1985 Grand Canyon, 1991 (HBO) Hairspray, 1988 Happy Gilmore, 1996 (HBO) Hellboy Animated Collection, 2006, 2007 The Hurricane, 1999 (HBO) I Know What You Did Last Summer, 1997 Iniciales SG (aka Initials S.G.), 2019 (HBO) J. Edgar, 2011 Jackie Chan’s First Strike, 1997 Jacob’s Ladder, 1990 (HBO) Jeremiah Johnson, 1972 Keeper Of The Flame, 1943 Kill Bill: Vol. 1, 2003 (HBO) Kill Bill: Vol. 2, 2004 (HBO) Kung Fu Hustle, 2005 The Lego Ninjago Movie, 2014 Less Than Zero, 1987 (HBO) Life Stinks, 1991 (HBO) Lincoln, 2012 (HBO) Little Children, 2006 (HBO) Little Man Tate, 1991 (HBO) Lovely & Amazing, 2002 The Lucky One, 2012(HBO) The Madness of King George, 1994 (HBO) Marisol, 2019 (HBO) Me 3.769, 2019 (HBO) Michael Clayton, 2007 Mickey Blue Eyes, 1999 Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mulholland Dr., 2001 Muralla (aka Muralla, The Goalkeeper), 2018 (HBO) Murder on the Orient Express, 1974 (HBO) Music and Lyrics, 2007 My Dream Is Yours, 1949 My Girl 2, 1994 My Girl, 1991 My Sister’s Keeper, 2009 Now, Voyager, 1942 Old Dogs, 2009 (HBO) The Opposite Sex, 1956 The Pledge, 2001 (HBO) Precious, 2009 (HBO) The Producers, 1968 The Prophecy, 1995 (HBO) The Prophecy II, 1998 (HBO) The Prophecy III: The Ascent, 2000 (HBO) Prophecy IV: The Uprising, 2005 (HBO) Prophecy V: The Forsaken, 2005 (HBO) Pulp Fiction, 1994 Rachel and The Stranger, 1948 Radio Days, 1987 (HBO) The Reluctant Debutante, 1958 Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds IV: Nerds in Love, 2005 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds, 1984 (HBO) Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, 1991 Roger & Me, 1989 Rollerball, 2002 (HBO) Romance on the High Seas, 1948 Rumble in the Bronx, 1996 Safe House, 2012 (HBO) Salvador, 1986 (HBO) Shall We Dance?, 2004 Shallow Hal, 2001 (HBO) Shocker, 1989 (HBO) Sinbad of the Seven Seas, 1989 (HBO) Sprung, 1997 (HBO) Stop-Loss, 2008 (HBO) Sunshine Cleaning, 2009 (HBO) Swing Time, 1936 Tea for Two, 1950 Thief, 1981 (HBO) This Is Spinal Tap, 1984 (HBO) Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 2011 (HBO) Top Hat, 1935 Trapped in Paradise, 1994 (HBO) Troll 2, 1990 (HBO) Troll, 1986 (HBO) Two Minutes of Fame, 2020 (HBO) Underdog, 2007 (HBO) Untamed Heart, 1993 (HBO) Up in the Air, 2009 (HBO) The Visitor, 2008 Waiting for Guffman, 1997 The Wedding Singer, 1998 Wendy, 2020 (HBO) Wildcats, 1986 (HBO) The Wings of Eagles, 1957 Without Love, 1945 Woman of the Year, 1942 Worth Winning, 1989 (HBO) Young Man with a Horn, 1949

The post HBO Max New Releases:. July 2021 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3jwDnnp

[capmackie]

no sleep for the wicked

Bucky,

I pray this letter finds you well — it’s been so long, so very damn long. 

I know you’re wondering how I possibly could’ve gotten your address — I’m surprised myself, to be honest, you really did not want to be found lol. I must say, you’ve done a helluva job of keeping yourself off of the grid but I can’t say I’m surprised; if James Buchanan Barnes made his mind up to do something, it was good as done.  I’ve always admired that about you. But if you taught me, anything brother, it’s to take life in my own hands, craft my own destiny and after 10 years, 86 days, 14 hours, and 56 minutes of searching, I’m finally sending this letter off.  I don’t know what I’m expecting out of this but I’m here to ask you to come back home Bucky. I hope that you know that you are missed — shit man. We never expected you to leave and never once thought you’d stay away for so long after that. Nothing could ever take your place here, not even me.  If only for a weekend, please come back.  P.S. — can I still call you Bucky?

Love,  Steve ——————— The smell of coffee is the only thing in the world that can possibly rouse Sam Wilson out of his fitful sleep. Even then, it takes James Rhodes placing the mug directly in Sam’s face for the sheriff to even stir. Long nights at the Handonsville’s Sheriff Department will do that to you. It’s a deep roast, made by some kind of hipster brand that Sam can’t even pronounce and is *too damn expensive* if you ask him, but it gets the job done. And the job needs to be done, unfortunately. What went from an absolutely rarity of Sam staying overnight to work on a case has become a constant in his life. And Sam’s loves constants. He loves a routine, loves order and predictability; loves waking up every morning at 5:45am, going on his morning jogs and greeting the early risers of the town — Mrs. Carter down at the library, Mr. Barnes who own the local meat shop, loves making it back at his cramped apartment at 6:15, not a minute later. And as much as Sam loves the constants in his life, he will never get comfortable with the sudden constant-ness of the disappearances in his town. No matter how many times it happens, no matter how each disappearance closely mirrors the one before it, no matter the same sad looks on each one of the missing person’s families' faces, the collective dread they all seem to share when they come into the office to report that their son, daughter, sister, cousins hasn’t been home in over 24 hours. No, he’ll never get used to that, no matter how constant. Sam stretches, feels his body protest fervently against the position he slept in, hears his bones cracks as he stretches. At only 30 years old, Sam already knows he’s getting too old for this shit. His body continues to groan in protest as he wearily stands, stretching his arms and back once more before grabbing his coffee to take a look at the ‘Missing Persons’ board. He’s been in the station since last night, pouring hours into a case file — which doubled as his pillow, to make some sense of the mysterious disappearance of one Casey Johnson. So deep into the file, Sam didn’t even bother to make the ten-minute trek back to his place, eventually just giving in and sleeping at the office. Casey Johnson was the latest victim in what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of disappearances in the small town. Nothing about Johnson was similar to the case before him; he was young, two weeks removed from graduating from high school. He was a good kid, a little on the dopey side but kind-hearted nonetheless. Anyone who knew Johnson knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly and that made the question of *who would hurt him* that much more pressing. He had no run-ins with the law, on the contrary, he spent most of his free time down at the office with Sam, with dreams of eventually becoming a sheriff himself. So no, there was no pattern between Johnson the last case, Steve Rogers, the soldier notorious for his frequent visits to the station, who disappeared just a few days before Johnson. The only thing they had in common was leaving their respective places with an unspoken promise to be back — Rogers was off to the post office to mail a letter while Johnson was taking the garbage out for Mr. Barnes at the meat shop, never to return again. It made no sense. --- The first instance of someone going missing, it was Pixie Thomas, who was quite as eccentric as her name would suggest. With no reason to suspect foul play and with one of Pixie’s favorite bands on tour one town over, it was safe to say that she left to become one of their roadies. The second, third, fourth and fifth time it happened, well those cases weren’t so easy to write off. The victims ranged in ages, marital status, wealth, race. It was almost like whoever was behind this was choosing them at random which spelled trouble for the small force. With nothing to link the missing together, it was nearly impossible to know when and where the perpetrator would strike next. “Earth to Sam, hello?” Rhodey’s voice and wave of hand brought Sam back to the present. This kind of thing has happened before, Sam becoming so hyper-fixated on a particular case that he forgets to eat, drink, *blink*, but nowhere near this magnitude. Now, more often than not, Sam finds himself lost in his work and the other officers just find him lost. “I know you like to think if you stare at this wall long enough, the answers will appear like you’re in some kind of Sherlock episode but I’m sorry buddy, it ain’t happening.” Sam *might as well* be in a Sherlock episode the way this case is turning out. Actually there’s nothing more in the world he would love more than to ask Benadryl Cumberbatch for help with solving this shitshow but alas. “Go home Wilson”, Rhodey continues, “you need some rest.” “Can’t”, Sam replies. And it’s true; he can’t. He can’t just separate himself from this case, it’s not that easy. He can’t leave it unsolved, can’t chance the townspeople catching word of the seven disappearances within county lines and how their very own sheriff department has no clue what the fuck is going on. Can’t go home to *rest* when people like Casey Johnson or Steve Rogers may never make it back home ever again. Blowing on his coffee, letting the steam of the hot beverage envelop him for a moment, he turns to Rhodey and then back to the corkboard. ———— Growing up in Handonsville, Sam wanted nothing more than to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a sheriff in the town that loved him and he loved back. Handonsville, with all of its small-town charm — small, quaint, stereotypical —  is the only home Sam has ever known. It’s one of those places where no one is a stranger, for better or worse. Here, secrets are hard to hide and even harder to keep. Little to no anonymity is a small price to pay considering how fiercely the small town protects each other and itself. Growing up and until Sam’s third year on the job, there was no crime, no violence, no ... anything to be honest. The sheriff’s department was mostly for show, something to make out of towners reconsider their ideas of fucking with the people of Handonsville. And it worked. But now something had changed in the sleepy town. There were no threats from outsiders; no drifters unaware of the unspoken rules that govern Handonsville causing trouble. No, it was a different malevolent presence blanketing the town, sinking onto the residents, heavy and restricting. Now, the danger came from inside of the town. You could practically feel it in the air. The feeling of dread, of waiting for the first fall of rain to come after the dark clouds move in. The anxiousness of seeing lighting flit across the sky, preparing yourself for the roar of thunder that’s sure to follow. In the three decades Sam has lived in Handonsville, he never had any reason to ever doubt his own safety or the safety of the other 800 residents that called this place home too. Until today. Until Derek Anderson, the town’s resident mechanic, came barging into the office, yelling that he needed to speak to Sam and he needed to do it *right away*. Frantic and upset, Anderson ignores Rhodey’s suggestions to quiet down, the officer throwing an apologetic look over his shoulder at Sam who’s come from the back to see what the disturbance is all about. Before he even reaches the man, Sam knows immediately what all of the commotion pertains to, he can feel it in his gut. The eighth disappearance in less than two months in Handonsville. ———————— Taking the crumpled piece of parchment paper out of the garbage can for the sixth time today, Bucky finds himself staring down at the words of someone he hoped to never speak to again. At the mere mention of coming back home, of *Handonsville*, Bucky felt the floodgates open; nostalgia pouring down on him, pulling him under until he has no choice but to float with the current; had no choice but to let the memories he tried so hard to repress wash over him, engulf him completely. It’s nothing against Steve; no, Steve was a light in Bucky’s life, a light in so many others lives as well. Steve was smart, funny, had a penchant for danger the same way Bucky did. They were brothers in every sense of the word; playing together, fighting together, even crying together once when Sir Snaps a Lot, Steve’s turtle died. They didn’t know it then but it was a reason why they got along so well, like they were actual brothers. Because while Steve was a light in Bucky’s life, smart, funny and a risk-taker, he also was the byproduct of an affair that ruined the Barnes’ home completely. How their father thought a secret of that magnitude would ever remain hidden in a town like Handsonville was beyond Bucky and the ensuing drama drove him and his Ma out of town. It took years for Bucky to even acknowledge his father again, much less his father’s son. And *Steve* — the same Steve who was his age and his height and classmate and his best friend was no longer just that. Steve was his brother and no matter how many times they often referred to each other as brothers before the truth came out, how natural their relationship, the unmistakable bond the two shared, it wasn’t right to refer to Steve as what he actually was. But that was years ago, a lifetime even, and Bucky had made his peace, putting time and eight thousand miles of distance between himself and the sins of his father, only for one measly letter to draw him back, like a moth to an open flame. A small part of Bucky knew nothing good would ever come from him going back home. Knew there, he was more likely to meet his demise than his dawning; but under the incessant need to separate himself from the town that shunned him, turned him away was the egregious *want* to prove that he made it without them. That there was a great big world outside of the small town and that world accepted him even when they wouldn't. With his jaw set and his bags packed, Bucky set off to Handonsville. ————- It’s all starting to run together at this point. And not that Sam isn’t emphatic to the plight of Mr. Anderson — his heart yearns for the other man, the very idea of having to file this kind of report for your child is *traumatizing*, it’s just that he’s seen this scene play out before. He’s seen the frightened look on Anderson’s face before, he’s seen in at least seven times in the past two months. He’s heard the script before, sure the names and dates and last seen places are different, but in the end, it’s all the *same*.

[bbrandy2002]

Family Feud Pt. 2

Rhys vs Walker

A continuation of my Wacky Drabble prompt.

Warning: Profanity and sexual obsenities.

Only 769 words

Thank you @burnsoslow for prereading and making a wonderful suggestion and just being you!

Thanks @bobasheebaby and @sirbeepsalot for unknowingly inspiring Baslivia for this.

Steve:  Welcome back to the Family Feud. Parents, just a warning, this show may not be ....hell, who am I kidding....it will not be appropriate for children. And so that everyone is aware, during the break, an embarrassed Bianca Walker left the stage to beat her daughters ass and neither will be returning back. Stepping into their places, are Olivia and a very insistent, Bastien. Madeleine is replacing him for the Rhys family.

Leo: This is my worst fucking nightmare. Regina, bite her if she looks at me.

Madeleine:(rolls eyes) Pfft...it wouldn't be her first time.

Drake: How the hell did I get stuck with Olivia?

Olivia: I'm the smartest person on this team compared to these other nimwits you have.

Bertrand: I beg your pardon.

Olivia: You heard me. Anybody that would marry Savannah Walker after she practically eye fucked every man in Texas, is a moron, and I have no use for you.......you are the weakest link in the chain Bertrand....goodbye!

Liam: (pounds the podium) I WANNA PLAY!!!!!

Steve: I agree with Liam...I think...and with Bianca leaving, Bastien, you are up.....your team has two strikes, so get ready Rhys family....name something a doctor might remove from a patient.

Bastien: (gulps nervously, then looks at Olivia) My....penis.

Olivia: (stunned) No one was supposed to know about that!

Bastien: I'm trying to win this game Liv, and I can't help it if I'm larger than most.

Steve: (Rips card up and throws the pieces to the floor) Everyone on this planet knows damn well that your penis is not an answer.

Bastien: (grabs Steve by the collar) Are you mocking me man?

Steve: (frightened) Of course not sir, show me, Bastien's penis...wait...what?

(Ding...55 points)

The Walker family celebrates winning the first round.

Steve: Un-freaking-believable!!

Drake: HaHa...We got Bas and his big dick now....You're going down Rhys family!

Liam: I WANNA PLAY!!!

Steve: I'm not gonna survive a second round of this........let's have Riley and Bertrand.

Riley and Bertrand walk to the main podium, a furious Riley refuses to shake his hand.

Steve: We asked 100 people....wait, producers....is this question for real?

Producer: Ironically, yes

Steve: It's your lucky day, Riley.....we asked 100 people, name something the Queen of Cordonia might say?

Bertrand buzzes first.

Bertrand: Your moms a ho

Riley: What the hell, Bertrand! I've never said that.

Bertrand: I saw it on a Vine once.

Riley: That was YOU!

Steve: In order to keep this game going, show me....Your mom's a ho...

(Your Moms a Ho....3 points)

Riley: WHAT????

Steve: Riley, name something....well, that you would say...

Riley starts to sweat and her lips quiver.

Riley: I would say.....oooohhhh..thats the spot Liam, don't you dare fucking stop!!

Regina: Oh...I share a wall with them, I know thats up there.

Steve: (rubs his temples) You're all going to hell.....show me....whatever she just said.

(That's the spot, don't fucking quit....50 pts)

Liam: I WANNA PLAY!!!!

Leo: Its like he's five again.

Steve: Riley are you playing or passing.

Riley: I'm afraid my husband might shit a gasket if I don't....we are playing.

Steve: We really need to work on keeping our language and comments within the PG13 realm.....so, Leo, you're next to answer.

Leo: Why'd you give me a warning Steve and no one else?

Madeleine: Seriously Leo?

Leo: I warned you Mad Cow...now bite her ass Regina.

Steve: No No...No one is biting anyone.

Madeleine: Its okay Steve, we were engaged once.....I know he's all bark and no bite.

Steve: Hold the phone...you two were engaged?

Leo: Yeah and get this, she was engaged to my brother too, all the while being our cousin.

Drake: Oh great incestuous ones, just answer the fucking question already. I've got cow shit to shovel.

Leo: (flips Drake off)

Steve: (shakes head) this game is a lost cause.... Leo, what is something your sister in law might say?

Leo: My crazy ass sister in law would say, Leo's cock is bigger than Liam's.

Riley: LEO!!!!! Liam, do something about him.

Liam: I WANNA PLAY!!!

Steve: Oh dear God! In light of Bastien's penis being up there, your answer would not surprise me now....is it up there?

(Leo's johnson is big....10 points)

Riley: No!!!! I would never say that.

Madeleine: And yet, there it is.

Riley: BITE HER NOW!!!

Regina bends down and bite's Madeleine on the hip, growling and tugging.

Madeleine: Someone get this decrepit hag off of me

Steve: I'm done! This game is over! I'm calling it now.

Liam: Oh no you fucking don't.

Liam tackles Steve Harvey to the ground, still screaming he wanted to play fast money.

Riley: Now he gets mad.

**Will Liam ever get to play? Find out when he, Drake and Maxwell guest star on Celebrity Jeopardy.

Drake: How'd that fucking goose find me here?

Tagging those who requested: @romanticatheart-posts @ao719 @texaskitten30

Drabblers: @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @jessiembruno @bobasheebaby @jovialyouthmusic @katedrakeohd @dcbbw @stopforamoment @theroyalromanceforever

[wasalwaysagreatpickle]

Friday 15 August 1828

7 1/2

11 20/60

Packing – breakfast at 9 35/60 – sat talking – Miss Duffin arrived in Brussels with her brother’s children – the following is an extract from Miss Ellen Duffin’s letter of 4 June last to Mr D- [Duffin] ‘she has placed Charles at the athénée where for £28 per annum he is boarded lodged, his clothes washed and mended, taught the classics, French, Dutch, German, mathematics, fencing and dancing, never is there even an extra charge – there are 6 weeks holidays, in summer, during which time he is to remain at school, to be perfected in the French language for the sum of 3 florins, about 15 shillings English money – she has very good furnished lodgings for about £40 per annum including the attention of the servant’ – the Johnsons at Interlacken with which Mrs J- [Johnson] is delighted – live at the cassino at 5 francs a day, bed and lodging and everything included – Miss Ellen D- [Duffin] to marry (next month) Mr John J- [Johnson], Colin’s younger brother – 

What Mrs D [Duffin] leaves them is but annuity goes to the brothers at the sisters death cannot go to their husbands even for life and not even to their children without the person who made the will has luckily put it in Mrs D [Duffin] seems to think it is not but he strikes me as much altered in point of faculty – 

Mr D- [Duffin] strikes me as much altered in point of faculty – Mrs D- [Duffin] allowed his memory was not quite so good – he appears in pretty good health – but somehow I scarce feel as if I should see him again, if I do not pass through again to Langton – Mrs D- [Duffin] evidently does everything – answers for him in all cases – he is evidently declining – 

Mentioned but not much having been at the Thackerays’, and how kind of attentive lady Elizabeth was – Mrs D- [Duffin] shewed me in 1 of the York papers ‘at Edinburgh on the 3rd instant lady Elizabeth T- [Thackeray] of a daughter’ – said I might perhaps write to congratulate her – asked where else I had been – at the Seaforths’ – invited to the Riddles’ etc. said I most regretted not being able to visit Mr Stuart McKenzie (Lord S-’s oldest daughter and heir, and married first to admiral Sir Samuel Hood with whom she was in India) – 

Tis singular but I have for some years fancied Mrs D [Duffin] somewhat jealous of my getting on, I have fancied this from the time of my getting as it were from under her governance. She has formerly said peevishly two or three times ‘you get on’ latterly nothing of this but then she never says as she might I am glad you get into such nice society etc. etc. On the contrary she has never latterly given me a helping hand where she might somehow or other she has kept back the Faifaxes this morning. I fairly put her to it about introducing me to the Simpsons at Brussels but she never said a word and of course I would not ask it plainly. I said we might go to Brussels that what I chiefly prized and wanted was a nice society she had before been, as it were, apologizing for not giving Jane Duffin a letter to the S’s [Simpsons]. They were in too high society for Jane who would be spending too much money if introduced to them. She cordially hates Jane, I said, by the way I will not say that I myself shall on her I know not whether she will smack the door in my face or not, you know why we quarrelled (it was about Miss Milne as she then was) she seemed pleased – she is surely jealous of my getting on. I do not admire Sophia and that too is heinous Mrs H.S.B [Henry Stephen Belcombe] told me she did it out of compassion, the poor girl received so much rudeness and inattention but this perhaps she would not say ill natured things which were also repeated against her. Her aunt had been very foolish about her every said was on sale and she was never likely now to marry well, scarce any but the Fairfaxes and Hutchinsons kind to her she would scarcely go out at all last winter – how different all this from Mrs D [Duffin]s puffing I am very cautious what I say to her tho I do seem to rattle away. She is a dangerous woman however good may be her intentions she owns now her brother has a fault that of over liking good living she says it is a let down to a man like him – 

Off from the D- [Duffin’s] per True Briton light coach (starts from the Tavern at 12 3/4) at 12 50/60 – had an inside place but went on the box – at Tadcaster in an hour – 5 minutes changing there at the Rose and Crown – only 22 1/2 minutes going the 1st five miles out of Tadcaster i.e. to the Inn on Bramham moor, where we stopt a minute or 2 – the moment the coachman saw the opposite coach (from the Black Swan) before him he set at gallop for about a couple of miles �� I certainly wished myself safe landed but never uttered – 2 gentleman behind begged him to go slower, but he took no notice – on going slower afterwards he began to argue with the gents that there was no danger – that the mails were much the most dangerous of all coaches – the least thing would turn them over – a yard higher than our coach, and the tops always proportionately larger than those of other coaches – a gentleman in the inside remonstrated – the man said he had a lady outside on the box who had never said a word – I said this was no rule – though not alarmed thought it much better and safer to drive moderately – for those who said nothing, might make up their minds never to trouble the coach again – the man seemed to think he had overdone it, and tried all the ways to make up for it, and went afterwards even slower than necessary – 

8 minutes changing horses at the Flying horse, and did not get to the Rose and Crown, Leeds, till 3 25/60 – 1 1/2 hour to wait there to change coaches – my carpet bag had been left behind – wrote 2 or 2 1/2 pp. to Mrs D- [Duffin] by the coachman, to ask her to have forwarded by him and telling her that we had exceeded in the first five miles out of Tadcaster the quickest of the mails – the Edinburgh by York to London 400 miles in 42 hours (including stoppages) not quite 10 miles an hour – the Glasgow to Leeds 120 miles in 12 hours (including stoppages) just 10 miles an hour – we had gone 5 miles in 22 1/2 minutes about 13 miles an hour – stopped not more than a minute an hour at most – not reckoned, I think, at much more than 1/2 mile an hour – 

Off from Leeds at 5 – Kirkstal abbey looks a fine large remain – I really must go and see it, and ought to see Wakefield and the village of Heath – at Bradford at 6 20/60 – changed coaches again – now a 3 horse coach that stops alternately at the White Lion and Union Cross, Halifax – this twice changing is rather too much – never try it again if a moderate quantity of luggage – changed coaches and off from Bradford in 10 minutes at 6 35/60 – very bad leader – by dint of whipping alight at the Pineapple, Halifax, at 7 3/4 – 

Getting all my luggage safely housed here, and get to Shibden in 1/4 hour, at 8 10/60 – my father quite well again – Marian quite well cured by her journey to Market Weighton. Dinner about 8 1/2 – came to my room at 10 1/4 – 

Letter from Mrs Barlow ‘Lemm’s hotel, 19 Park Street Grosvenor Square, London’ 3pp. and ends under the seal, and 1st page crossed – dated 30 July, and the 2nd and 4th instant – better for Dr Granville’s advice – has no disease, but her nerves are weakened – England the best climate for her – not to go to Guernsey for a year to come – her nerves to be kept quiet – Mrs Carter in London – providing her husband’s will – will be independent of her friends – Lady Ouseley recommended Lemm’s hotel – capital situation and quiet – about the same price as Webb’s – very much better hotel – last year full of people of rank – Mrs and Miss B- [Barlow] were 3 days at Fulham – the bishop now a bishop of Canterbury much pleased with his little cousin (Jane), and gave her £20 to buy something in commemoration of their 1st meeting – going to Winchester, Mrs Sophia Barlow’s (Miss Louisa Barlow] (Jane’s aunt) suddenly died a very short while ago) – then to the Thistelwaites at Lyndhurst 12 miles from Southampton – 

Not to mention her father she will tell me why when we meet got in to some scrape or other – 

Will go back to Paris for the winter, the end of September, or beginning of October – Lady O- [Ouseley] wishes her to settle in London – sent her carriage every morning, and gave her her box at the opera – but she will not have time to accept her pressing invitation this year – the rank she moves in too high for Mrs B- [Barlow’s] means – very kind letter – if I cannot be in Paris next winter, would like to be there on my aunt’s account – very fine cool day –

[britishassistant]

Mr. Hale’s Art 301

August— Introduction to Line and Shading

The adolescents file in, a few chattering to each other, but most with their heads down and stomachs rumbling, backpacks rustling with the sheafs of paper they’ve accumulated over the course of the day. 

Even the peppier ones look tired as they choose their seats, and Peter can’t honestly say he blames them. 

He’s in the back room again, observing how his students behave when they think they’re not being observed.

They’re terribly predictable. No one will sit in the front row of tables, a learned self-preservation instinct to keep distance between themselves and an unfamiliar, hostile adult. 

Those that know each other will take seats near each other at the tables, their familiarity relative to how close they’re willing to sit to each other. Those that know no one will take seats as far away from everyone else as possible, or if they came in late, be forced into the seats that their classmates left purposefully unoccupied. 

The bursts of petty ire towards those unfortunates who violate the buffer zones have Peter rolling his eyes. Really, the pretense that humans are anything but a particularly weak and underdeveloped sort of animal is laughable for all their veneer of “civilization”.

The beagle-girl and another girl barely make it inside before the tinny wail of what’s supposed to pass for a bell. 

Beagle-girl plops behind the front table by the door, too focused on trying to rub an incriminating dark smear from the side of her hand to notice how she’s isolated herself.

The other girl scans the room, makes a face at the empty front tables, glances between them and the beagle-girl, before reluctantly seating herself next to a suddenly sour-faced young man at the end of the table that’s diagonally behind her compatriot. 

So he finally has a face to put to the second intruder.

Well, isn’t it only fair that he return the favor?

Peter waits until his students begin to look around, and then opens the back-room door, feeling a measure of satisfaction when every single one of the thirteen heads whip to stare at him.

Beagle-girl shuts her mouth and tries to covertly lower her hand like she wasn’t about to try licking the stained side of it.

“Good afternoon.” Peter says pleasantly. “My name is Mr. Hale. I’ll be your art teacher for this year.” 

He turns around to chalk his name at the top of the board, rolling his eyes where his students can’t see at the bursts of arousal coloring several scents behind him.

Teenagers, honestly.

He sets the chalk down and scoops up the papers on his desk in one hand, taking a moment to separate the syllabi from the rest. He circles around his desk, still smiling. 

Beagle-girl doesn’t smell like arousal. She smells like fear and nerves, eyes wide and pulse racing when he stops in front of her table and proffers the syllabi. 

“Would you mind passing these out while I call roll, dear?” Peter asks, smile broad and toothy. 

She nods rabbit-quick, reaching out to take them with the stained left hand. She only realizes her mistake once the papers are in her grasp, face paling rapidly.

Peter’s grin broadens.

He turns and strolls back to his desk. “Now, if you have any name you would prefer to go by, please let me know and I will note it down on the attendance record, understood?”

There’s a chorus of nods and “yes”es from the class, save for beagle-girl and those who are clearly wondering why she’s decided to walk around the room to hand the syllabi out instead of passing them from her chair like a normal person. 

Peter’s not entirely sure himself, but he digresses.

“Mark Spieler.” 

“Right here.” A boy in the center table of the third row raises his hand with an unusual amount of self-assurance. His hair stinks of gel despite its untidy look and he’s lounging in his chair like it’s a throne, shooting conspiratorial grins to the girl and boy on either side of him. 

His scent is shot through with a strange smell, something that Peter can’t quite identify but raises his hackles all the same. He’ll keep an eye on that one.

“Polly Russo.”

“Here!” The girl closest to the window in the second row raises her hand, appearing only moments from waving. She’s one of the peppier ones, with a braid covered in brightly-colored sporadically-spaced elastics, her irritation with the boy seated in the previously-unoccupied seat beside her lasting only moments. 

Her scent right now is telling of mild confusion, presumably at Peter’s decision to start at the end of the roster instead of at the beginning as convention dictated.

“Alicia Reyes.”

“...Here.” A gloomy young woman seated at the far end of the central table of back row half-lifts a limp hand. Her clothes were dark and seemed haphazard somehow. Peter tilted his head, imagined a couple of years on her, and suddenly realized why he felt like her scent and features were vaguely familiar. 

Well. This made things awkward. 

“...Evelyn Mahealani.”

“Evie’s fine.” The smiling girl closest to the window at the back lifts the textbook she is in the process of tucking away into her backpack in lieu of raising her hand. Peter catches a glimpse of a boggled rainforest frog before the textbook goes down and away.

She at least appears to have a modicum of fashion sense, even with all the new-age jewelry littering her arms. She’ll soon learn how impractical those can be when they move into paints. 

“Jordan Harlowe.”

“Here.” A young man with dreadlocks at the far table in the second row raises his hand, looking disinterested. He’d been one of the later ones in, and appeared wholly unconcerned with incurring the ire of his classmate by taking the “buffer” seat.

His eyes were flickering over his classmates in a vaguely judging manner, silently assessing in a way that reminded Peter of that useless lump Deaton and the charming Ms. Morrell.

“Adam Johnson.”

“Here!” A boy with enough acne to strike a match on at the central table of the second row raises his hand. Despite his irritation with his new table-mate, his overall demeanor seems to be eager to please, his clothes too neat to be anything that he’d chosen himself.

Peter recognizes him from the photos on his new boss’s desk, the nervously-smiling child standing next to his mother who probably had all of his teachers monitoring his behavior.

“Fate Evander.”

“Huh? Oh, here!” The young woman at the end of the window-table in the third row turns away from her hushed conversation with her table-mate to wave a hand. She pushes her glasses up her nose and turns to grin ruefully at her conversation partner at being caught distracted. 

Peter would be surprised at the sight of a leather jacket in August, were he not intimately familiar with his nephew’s fascination with them that resulted in the item of clothing becoming a semi-mandatory pack uniform.

“Jean-Paul Durand.”

“J.P.” Peter has to blink at the curt person sitting next to the window in the third row, who stares at him moodily for a moment before turning back towards Fate. He’s...relatively certain that Stilinski doesn’t have any siblings, but the resemblance is scarily uncanny. 

The buzzed hair is ginger, the accent is French, the features are (somehow) a little more feminine, and the scent is telling of a life spent outdoors. But Peter’s going to poke around some of his sources, just in case.

“Timothy Coffret.”

“Right here!” The boy at one end of the center table in the third row throws up his hand, nearly clocking the self-assured boy next to him in the nose. The lanky boy freezes, face comically horrified before asking if his friend is okay with near-hysterical giggles.

Mark reaches over and begins attempting to noogie his dark brown hair while a girl on the other side of the table begins shaking her head and giggling along with them.

“Thomasina Coffret.” 

“Tina, and that one’s Tim.” The young woman points at herself and then at the boy squawking in the noogie’s grip. Even if the same last names and familiarity weren’t a dead giveaway, the similar brunette hair, coloration, and scents marked those two as close siblings.

The way they were bracketing the strange-smelling boy was interesting though. Almost as though he were their alpha, despite the fact that none of them were werewolves from what Peter could tell. 

“Jessica Berzynas.”

“Here~” The second intruder carelessly raises her hand with a look on her face that makes Peter want to roll his eyes again. She leans further onto the edge of the center table in the second row, her mooning expression only outmatched by the moon on her shirt that’s surrounded by airbrushed howling wolves. 

And she’s wearing a dog collar too. An honest-to-god red fabric dog collar that still carries the canine scent of its previous owner. Peter closes his eyes briefly and silently asks for patience. 

“Walter Boyd.”

“Here.” A nervous young man at the other end of the center table in the end row raises a hand, glances at Peter, and quickly away, dropping his hand as he does so. He adjusts his glasses, fiddling with his phone under the table, scent stinking of pungent self-loathing.

Jesus, what are the odds? Peter almost wishes there was a way to express his condolences to the two in the back without exposing his connection to their...older siblings? Cousins?

There should be “sorry the supernatural killed your loved ones” cards. It would make things so much easier. Peter himself could’ve done with one of those years ago.

His eyes flick back down to the roster. 

The small smirk returns at the sight of the dark blot at the top of the page and the rounded handwriting that’s doing it’s best to mimic the typeface under it.

“Nana Assis.”

Beagle-girl continues handing out syllabi, shuffling the remaining papers and looking around to check her classmates all had one, beginning to start her circuit again once she realized she couldn’t tell from her position at the back of the class. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Nana Assis.” 

The second intruder turns around and hisses “Nana!”

Beagle-girl’s head whips up to stare questioningly at her blonde cohort, before she catches sight of Peter (and the rest of the class) staring at her.

“Oh, um, present!” She squeaks, sticking a hand in the air.

Peter raises an eyebrow until she lowers it again. “Thank you for handing those out, Miss Assis. If you could return the extras to me?”

She tentatively approaches him, heartbeat still rabbit quick. She hands all the papers back to Peter, ignorant of the fact she’s forgotten to leave one for herself.

“If I could ask another favor of you, Miss Assis?” The girl pales again, but nods resolutely. “Would you mind drawing something small, on the corner of the board there? Anything you’d like.”

She follows where Peter’s pointing, and hesitantly walks over and picks up the white chalk. She  draws a rectangle, then a slightly wonky cross within the rectangle, quickly shading the four areas outside the cross in white.

“It’s, um. The English flag. Because I come from a small village north of London, originally.” She explains haltingly, British accent thick in her voice as she gestures to her creation.

Peter nods. “Thank you for this, Miss Assis. You can sit down now.” 

Nana Assis gratefully flees back to her one person table in front of the door, only looking mildly confused by the syllabus that’s magically appeared there in her absence. 

“Now, could anyone tell me what Miss Assis’ drawing is made up of?” Peter looks out over the class. “Mr. Harlowe?”

“Failed attempts at straight lines.” Jordan Harlowe deadpans, uncaring of the nervous titters around him, or the way that Miss Assis goes red and tries to sink down into her chair.

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Well Mr. Harlowe, if all lines were straight, life would be much more boring, now wouldn’t it?”

That garners a few giggles and Jordan Harlowe’s grudging nod, as though Peter’s passed some kind of test or won a round of something.

“Chalk.” Evie Mahealani calls out. 

Peter nods to her. “That is indeed the correct material Miss Mahealani. But to go back to Mr. Harlowe’s insistence on boring convention, how would you define a line?”

There’s a silence as his students contemplate this, before Tim Coffret pipes up with, “A mark!”

“Hey!” Mark Spieler shoves his friend good-naturedly. “You callin’ me a line?”

“Yeah, a pick-up one.” Tina Coffret teases, grinning at the resulting groans from the people around her.

“A point following a dot!” Fate Evander volunteers. 

“Well done, Mr. Coffret, Miss Evander. Broadly speaking, both of your definitions are correct. Lines are one of the most fundamental elements of 2D art, dating back to when cavemen discovered that mixing certain dusts with urine allowed them to paint on walls.” Peter takes a moment to enjoy the expressions of disgust and morbid interest on the faces of his students. 

“A set of closed lines, like the ones Miss Assis has so thoughtfully provided for us, divide the surface we are drawing on into positive and negative space. Can anyone tell me what the difference between those is? Yes, Mr. Durand?”

J.P. Durand’s face goes stormy all of a sudden. “I’m not a Mr.” 

“Ah, forgive me.” Peter says smoothly, “Would it be better if I address you using Miss or Mx.? And are there any pronouns you would prefer I use?”

The furious expression disperses somewhat. “...Mx. is fine I guess. And I use they/them.” 

Miss Evander squeezes their shoulder, smiling hesitantly as they valiantly ignore their classmates’ curious stares. 

“If you’d like to continue, Mx. Durand?” Peter prompts. 

J.P. Durand bridles, a small sort of happiness infusing their scent as they say, “Positive space is within a shape, negative space is outside of it.”

“Very good.” Peter nods. “And, as well as forming shapes and denoting positive and negative space, lines can be used to show different colors and values of light, as Miss Assis has demonstrated with her shading here.” 

Peter points to the white areas to emphasize his point, noting that the embarrassment and shame is gradually fading out of Miss Assis’ scent in favor of a small, happy sort of pride.  

“In this class, we will be covering the practical aspects of art creation, with a small emphasis on the theory and history behind the techniques we will be using.” Peter continues, directing his class to begin to examine their syllabi. “We will not have tests as you are all used to them, with rote memorization that fails to actually teach you anything. However, that does not mean that your grades will not be judged based on the quality of your work. While some of you may try to argue all art is subjective, trust me when I say that there is a difference between art that has real passion behind it, and art that you think is passable for a blow-off class.” 

Peter grins, teeth bared and ever so slightly lengthened beyond an ordinary human’s. “And I will know the difference, I promise you that.”

There is a collective shiver among the adolescents that makes Peter feel a lot more satisfied than he probably should, but he’s got to have his fun where he can, doesn’t he?

“This does not mean I expect you all to excel at every method I teach you. That will only stifle your talents and lead to irritation and boredom on both your and my behalf. In fact, I wish to encourage each of you to find a métier you are most comfortable with and see how you can produce something innovative with the unique skills you will develop. That is why, if you feel you have found a medium that “clicks” with you, I will permit you to continue to use it in conjunction with other methods if you let me know ahead of time. For some of you that will mean you may only discover your medium much later in the year, but that is unfortunately the nature of time and the world, which are both chronically unfair as you all have no doubt realized.”

That earns a few snickers, but some still look afraid.

“Again, I do not expect excellence in every area. That bores me, and as you will come to know, I loathe boredom. Give me effort, genuine effort, and try to find some of that innovation that the education system has tried so hard to stamp out of you, and you will do just fine in this class. In other classes, you will be filling out worksheets and textbooks and exams that will ultimately mean nothing once you all move up in the world. Here is the only place where you can create something, where you can mold the world into the vision you believe or wish it to be, rather than try to fit the molds it has arbitrarily decided to assign you.”

Peter looks out over the faces of the young minds he’s supposed to “enlighten”. What garbage. He’s not going to be putting anything there that there aren’t seeds of already. 

“Yes.” He says, grinning wide. “I think we will all make something very interesting together.”

The shrill whine that’s supposed to pass for a bell rings, and his new students pack away his syllabi and stream out of the door to fill their rumbling bellies.

[grimoiresontape]

The Black Art Books of Cyprian, Pt. II: A Svartkonstbok Exhortation

In the first post of this current blog series on the Black Art Books of Cyprian, we discussed the Art and Doctrine of Cyprian, MS 12 NM 40.034: a collection of charms, rites, seals, and sundry operations. Tonight we unlock the shelf-chains to check out the svartkonstbok MS 13 NM 41.652. A singular text, its contents are summarised:

'Exhortations are presented as those made by St. Cyprian, and call upon the powers of all those biblical and ecclesiastical personages to drive out the four primary Princes of Hell and their minions.'

 MS 13 is an exorcism rite for the sick and/or bewitched. Considering this intersection of physical and spiritual dis-eases, the late Dr Johnson notes that, 'as it has the intention of protecting an individual from demonic influence, I have categorized it as a work of healing'; a categorisation and rationale I think concisely sums a necessary mindset for engaging with the exorcisms and healing charms and banishing rites and herbal formularies of these folk magical texts.

The operation itself begins with a brief but extremely illuminating instruction for the administration of the exorcism, which must be accompanied by a bath made in a very particular and thoroughly necromantic fashion.

[Whoever …cousin] then he should go, or another in his stead, to a church yard and ask for permission to take three bones and put them towards the fire, until they become warm, and then throw them into the water and put the bones in the same place, that you took them from, and wash the sick one in the water and recite this […] then with God’s help it will get better.

To reiterate this necromantic methodology: bones are borrowed and taken only with permission, vivified by warming them up to transfer their healing virtue to the water, then are returned; whereupon the prepared bath is used to wash the patient as a prayer is said over them. It should be performed 'early in the new or waning moon'.

 Borrowing Bones

What is I think most immediately striking about this rite is that it highlights that borrowing bones to heal does not necessarily only have to be done to transfer disease from the living onto the dead. There is a bone borrowing rite in the black art books examined in this compendium that has an obvious operative basis in such transference, and is worth briefly comparing at this juncture.

MS 3 Es löv #2 [EM 3329 B; “N° 4 Stora katekis”] contains an excellent example of bone transference healing. For 'help for all people’s deformities', it instructs for a bone to be borrowed from a churchyard in the early morning, and that one should 'dip this bone in the dew, and stroke it upon your injuries'. The short operation's express transference is explicitly stated in the closing spoken component of the operation, declared when returning the bone: 'put earth over it and say as you throw the earth “Let now my weakness which this bone now owns rot with you in the earth.” The bone of the dead effectuates a transference of the disease from the land of the living to the soil beneath, to decay. It is a rite whose entire process is written out again more concisely in a separate later operation in the same manuscript.

We do not seem to find such a direct transference of malady to the earth and/or dead in our Cyprianic exorcism of MS 13 however. Rather occult virtue is imbued into the cleansing bath. In terms of protocol, permissions are sought and blessings received from the dead of the churchyard to perform the healing. In terms of operation, the bones are heated and their virtue is transferred to the water itself. It is a transference from the dead of sacred ground not to them. The bath itself raises a further crucial similarity shared by these workings. The bones in both operations are quickened through water: a summer morning's dew in MS 3 and the water of the necromantic bath in MS 13. The dead affect us and are affected by us through moisture.

Our work of healing in MS 13 is of course effectuated by a combination of materia, proper preparation, and incantation. The incantation in question which stirs these waters of the dead begins by praying for God's mercy before quickly bestowing the operator making the call with the mantle of Cyprian - saint of nigromancy after all - via first person invocation. The opening litany from this assumed mouth of our Good Saint is a veritable anatomy of Christological historiolae:

'I, Cyprian the Eternal worshipper of God, […] Holy birth, by his holy circumcision, by his holy baptism, by his holy miracles and wondrous deeds, by his holy suffering, by his bloody languishing, by those ropes, wherewith Jesus was bound, by the kiss on the cheek that Mattheus gave to Jesus, by the scourging of his back, by those thorns and thongs with which Jesus was scourged, by Jesus’ crown of thorns, by Jesus’ purple robe, by the spear that was stuck up into Christ’s side, by the five wounds, by the 7 (last) words that he spoke on the cross, by the sweat cloth, wherein he was wrapped, by Jesus’ grave, by Jesus’ burial, by Jesus’ resurrection, by Jesus victorious ascension into heaven, by Jesus’ Reign and Lordship at the right hand of the Father, by Jesus’ return to judge the quick and the dead.'

 The Exhortation

The Exorcism that makes up the overwhelming majority of MS 13 is first-person Cyprianic, beginning with this opening appeal to the works of Christ. Following this introduction, we begin an extensive litany of invoked ancestors and spirits. Our call to the angels opens with Gabriel followed by that familiar cardinal quartet of archangels Michael, Raphael and Uriel. Appeal to the First Father and Magician Adam leads petition to a cast of Genesis, expanding into calls to the kings of Scripture (starting with David, then Solomon), Christ once more, the prophets, the saints, holy bishops, holy confessors, holy women, and holy virgins.

Having called by these many many names, one exhorts 'you all in the ten thousand regiments of Hell', and exorcises Lucifer, Belsebub, Belial, and Astaroth and their 'Regements'. These four are referred to as the 'uppermost and principle Princes in Hell', and description of their domains emerge as they are bound 'that you may not any longer either yourself or by means of some of your servants, harm or hurt' the patient. A curious ritual geography is explored. Lucifer and his vast retinue are found 'in the lake of death, the pit of fire and the land of shadows', and 'in mountain and in valley, in forest and the soil, in the air and water'. Belsebub's warband is located 'in the northern part of Tartarus, in the Earth in Oblivion, in the below'. Belial's court 'in the South, in Gehenna, in Barratheo'. Astaroth and their deputy-princes lie 'in the west, in Usisge and Lizeronttes'.

Each of these bindings is further emphasised by a ritual naming-and-shaming of specific senior spirits under these four principle Princes of Hell. Agron, Degel, Brisont, Avetzan, and Frischop are singled out in binding the servants of Lucifer. Ragsepedes, Lucermin, Mempes and Averhan are namechecked under Belsebub. Belial's courtiers include Sersostenes, Slaudiens, Apolexis, and Mesena. Rephorsin, Aequiste, and Parretemene are counted amongst Astaroth's consorts. Further study of these names is certainly warranted.

The exorcism ends by calling - conjuring in fact - natural phenomena: sun and moon, stars, land and even by the beasts of the land. For me, most immediately there's at the very least a sense of an expression of life triumphing over disease and death here, of a natural order restored and thriving, and so on. But I leave it to your good selves to consider the meaningful significances of this exorcism's conclusion yourselves:

'I conjure you by Sun and Moon, by all the shining stars, by the Entire Heavenly Host, by the rainbow, by the snow, by the thunder and lightning, by rain, by darkness […], by the skies, by the Heavens and Stones, by Trees, by mountains, by valleys, by fish in the water, by birds under the heavens, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.'

[oliivverwood]

retweet

marcus/oliver + social media for @rlversongs

LONG POST- idk how to put the keep reading from my phone sorry

--

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial 

Are you ready for thrilling Raptors vs Bucks Eastern Conference Final game 5? Tune in on YouTube 2nite aftergame for play by play analysis + predictions. Watch for live tweets. #NBA #Basketball  

12:00 PM      2,340 likes   1,226 retweets

montyyyyy @grahamcracker

yo @casswarr five dollas on raps making history. wood has been straight sniping this year. bucks have no chance with that offense. #rapsin5

12:48 PM        5 likes 3 retweets

cassius ;) @casswarr

@grahamcracker ur fuckin insane if u think its gonna be easy for the raps. diggory's been an absolute wall this szn. he'll block potter's nasty dunks easy

1:05 PM          4 likes 1 retweets

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Game 5. Tonight. Air Canada Arena. #WeTheNorth

4:00 PM         1,904 likes 837 retweets

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

5 into 1st quarter, Wood from the Raps with the filthy cross on Malfoy, ballhandling like a dream. #NBA #NBAGame5 #Basketball

8:43 PM         734 likes 437 retweets

pants park (marky flints cuzzy) @panzyparkkk

@marcflintofficial im sure handling his balls is your dream ;))

8:50 PM        523 likes 277 retweets

marcus flint for NBA (@marcflintofficial) blocked pants park (marky flints cuzzy) (@panzyparkkk)

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

Potter steals from Diggory, lobs it to Weasley, throws it up to Wood for a dunk on Bole. The Raptors chemistry is off the charts this game. #NBA #NBAGame5 #Basketball

9:22 PM       256 likes 153 retweets

mclaggen the frat god @nolaggingmclaggen

yo why the fuck is flint being so nice about the raps rn. i don't want wood favouritism, i miss asshole flint. talk shit about bole's shitty defense, please. 

10:00 PM   333 likes 457 retweets

oliver wood #0 (@oliverw00dofficial) liked a tweet by mclaggen the frat god (@nolaggingmclaggen)

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Eastern Conference dubs, absolutely ecstatic. See you against the Warriors for NBA finals. #WeTheNorth

11:54 PM   937 likes 765 retweets

HARRY POTTER #3 @harrypottter

to the finalsssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!! #WeTheNorth

11:56 PM      832 likes 655 retweets

-

YouTube

NBA by Marcus Flint 

1,267,457 subscribers

Recent Videos

RAPTORS VERSUS BUCKS EASTERN CONFERENCE FINALS (HIGHLIGHTS, PLAY BY PLAY, ANALYSIS) 

Play

"A tremendous game for the Raptors, starting right off the bat. Bulgarian transfer Viktor Krum started it right from the tipoff, an offense immediately set into play by captain Oliver Wood. The Bucks weren't ready for them to come at them so hard so quickly, which was [redacted] stupid of them, it's the [redacted] Eastern Conference Finals. Diggory did steal from rookie Finnegan, who was lucky to have Wood track back as fast as he did for the defense. Further into the first quarter, Wood executed one of the dirtiest [redacted] crossovers I've ever seen in my two years of working in the NBA. Poor Urquhart didn't stand a chance. He's probably wallowing in the memes being made of him now, bless his heart--no, he deserves it. Urquhart, get it together, set your [redacted] feet."

"The second quarter had the Bucks catch up, with Roger Davies shooting 3 for 4 from the three point line, two assists from Bucks rookie Zach Smith, one from Draco Malfoy. The fourth one bounced off the rim into Wood's hands- his offensive rebounding stats have been crazy--

"The third quarter had Weasley on the boards, dribbling out to the corner and lobbing it to Potter on the fast break, and what a [redacted] fast break it was! If you blinked you would have missed it, which apparently Bole did, blink that is. Potter tosses it up to Wood for a nasty dunk on Bole. Humiliating. I'd never show my face to the world again, if that happened to me."

Pause.

--

Rita Skeeter for TMZ @ritaskeets

Renowned basketball analyser and former NBA player Marcus Flint's cousin, Pansy Parkinson with a shocking tweet during yesterday's game 5. #marcusflint

6:00 AM     4,003 likes   2,692 retweets

Rita Skeeter for TMZ @ritaskeets

This certainly is a strange development. Through injuries, scandals and incidents, Marcus Flint has had quite a life. Learn more in my article on tmz.com/articles/ritaskeeter #marcusflint

6:08 AM      2,455 likes   1,234 retweets

--

Excerpt of Marcus Flint Through the Years, by Rita Skeeter for TMZ

Marcus Caradoc Flint, Chicago born and raised and was eventually the first draft pick, going to nowhere else but the Chicago Red Bull's, and evidently changing the team dynamic forever, and for the better. Flint played rough, fouling out of a game dozens of times and racking up the most fines in the league, but it was worth it. He was still skillful, dazzling audiences with his awe striking shots and dunks. He won rookie of the year, finals MVP, and had 2 championship rings, one from his time on the Bulls, the other from his time with the Cleveland Cavaliers. 

Flint was known to be a little violent on the court, some of the more notable players he got in fights with being Roger Davies, Remus Lupin and Oliver Wood, who we'll be discussing later this article. 

Suddenly, injury struck, and Flint could never play basketball again, a freak accident on the court where he was pushed midair, lost his balance and tore his ACL. He was immediately offered a spot on the NBA reporting crew, where he popularised the channel with his calculated analyses and his filthy mouth. The channel ratings shot up, and the rest was history. 

Flint was never out of the spotlight for long. Two years ago, he was seen walking out of the Peninsula New York with Charlie Weasley, New York Knicks, one morning, the two of them awfully close and sharing an embrace before parting ways. This led to speculation about their relationship status and Flint's sexuality. Not long after that, he was photographed leaving The Monster, a gay bar in New York, again, with an unidentified male. 

Recently, Marcus Flint's cousin, Pansy Parkinson,  a well known tattoo artist in Los Angeles replied to Flint's tweets.

Attached: Screenshot of Pansy Parkinson's reply to Marcus Flint,"im sure handling his balls are your dream ;)))*

Is this an indicator of something between Flint and Wood? Our reporters have reached out to all three parties involved for comment.

--

mclaggen the frat god @nolaggingmclaggen

broooo that's why flint was sucking woods dick so hard during live tweet. i don't care if the man likes it up the ass i want some CORRECT analysis #marcusflint

12:00 AM   600 likes 236 retweets

cassius ;) @casswarr

wood and the raps have a presser today maybe he'll say smth about the sitch #marcusflint

12:52 PM   132 likes 121 retweets

#WeTheNorthh @torontoraptorsnumber1fan

*Attached: Clip from the Raptors Press Conference. A journalist from Sports Illustrated asks as question directed towards Oliver Wood, captain. "What are your thoughts on the online blowup regarding your status with Marcus Flint?" Oliver has a faint smile. Harry Potter is sniggering behind his hand on the other end of the table. Oliver goes to the mike. "I didn't realise there was a blowup. We gotta prepare for our next game now. See you all then." The entire team gets out and exits. The journalists clamour for their attention, with more questions.*

1:07 PM     4,082 likes   5,239 retweets

gin n tonic @ginnywheezy

y'all saw that cheeky smirk no?? @harrypottter laughing in the corner no??? my big bro @ronwheezy turning bright red NO???? 

1:20 PM        345 likes   233 retweets

marcus flint for NBA (@marcflintofficial), oliver wood #0 (@oliverw00dofficial), HARRY POTTER #3 (@harrypottter), Draco Malfoy (@dracoma1foy), angie johnson (@angelinaj), forge weasley (@georgewheezy), gred weasley (@fredwheezy) liked gin n tonic (@ginnywheezy)'s tweet

--

Instagram

@marcusflintbae

fan account, im in love with marcus flint

Recent Posts:

*Blurry picture of two male figures, seemingly joined by the hand. One of them is brunette, the other black haired. Both tall. One is dressed in a grey tracksuit and clunky basketball shoes, the other in a pressed white shirt and black pants, tie looseness. They are smiling - the photo is too blurry to specify exactly who it is.

marcusflintbae this is obviously marcus flint and oliver wood, that's the tea. im so jealous of wood ugh. 

Posted 1 hour ago

Liked by ginnywheeze, percyweasley, panspark, terhiggs, adrianpuc3y, k8iebell, hazzapotter, fredwheeze and 2943 others

-

Private Chat between Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint

oliver wood: marcus ur an idiot

marcus flint: how is this my fault

oliver wood: u were too nice to me on highlight analysis

oliver wood: and u forgot to tell parkinson that we're not public yet 

marcus flint: well u should be happy u wanted to go public like six months ago

oliver wood: nOT LIKE THIS

oliver wood: let's announce it on twitter we've let them suffer long enough 

marcus flint: don't use the photo that im wearing the purple tie in

marcus flint: it's ugly 

oliver wood: you are in no position to be making demands

oliver wood: im not going to use a photo, i love you, I'll call you later

marcus flint: love u too babe

--

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

I'm dating Oliver Wood. I'm not biased to the raptors at all, don't tell him but I actually bet on the Warriors. #NBAFinals

9:03 PM   608,767 likes 438,898 retweets

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Marcus Flint and I have BEEN dating. Keep up. He fr didn't bet on us. If you stop watching him I'll request a trade. Joking. Not really. #NBAFinals

9:06 PM     453,738 likes 234,725 retweets

[iabsolutelyresentthiswebsite]

Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (SPOILER-LITE Review)

Y’know, I would absolutely love to post a non-spoiler review, but to be quite honest, I don’t give a flying unholy rat from hell what I do right now. This movie is only worth seeing if you are determined, after The Last Jedi, to see the cremation of the beloved franchise.

Review starts under the cut.

As 99% of you know if you followed my blog two years ago, I absolutely detested The Last Jedi. I was able to pick out and critically explain many, many things wrong with the movie, as many others were as well. If you want, you can /tlj-hate or /the-last-jedi-sins on my blog to find all the sins to see what I’m getting at.

My expectations going into this movie were so low they were actually in hell. Like Satan was having a good time with them. But somehow, my expectations weren’t even low enough because Disney dug even deeper than hell and found I guess the fuck where Palpatine was hiding for 30-40 years.

Let’s start by saying this: The movie was utter trash, nothing made any sense, and the plot was DAMAGE CONTROL FROM THE LAST JEDI.

Like, honestly, I can’t tell where the damage control ends and the actual vision for the movie begins. 

There were some interesting elements that, if The Last Jedi didn’t exist, may have actually been cool and make sense. The score was awesome, as per usual. John Williams is a musical deity. There was a cute new little droid, whom I love and would adopt as my son.

But other than that, the movie was 100% damage control. 

The backlash from The Last Jedi, everything very justified because the movie single-handedly, corrupted beyond repair the future of this franchise. I blame this movie on The Last Jedi, namely on Rian Johnson and Kathleen Kennedy who allowed that abomination to hit theatres. Their mistakes, short-sightedness, and selfish masturbatory anathema they dared allow enter Star Wars main canon forced JJ Abrams, a decent- not good- director, into excusing, explaining, and atoning for their sins. There is not a chance in hell I will ever believe that THIS is what JJ envisioned when he wrote The Force Awakens. 

So, Rey is a Palpatine...even though there was no precedent for that. But honestly, I couldn’t give a damn less who her father, grandfather, or second great-cousin thrice removed on her great uncle’s side is or was or would be. I don’t care anymore. 

But she’s a Palpatine, which is so objectively a consolation prize and backtrack on “your parents were nobody- filthy junk traders” and she has this grand prophecy (a la Anakin Skywalker) that she would strike Palpatine, whom is hiding in his galaxy basement playing with and creating damn starships to make the Final Order- his next project, down and become one with him, giving him another body to transfer his life energy into like he’s always done since the beginning as he’s- oh yeah!- every. fucking. Sith Lord. Ever. Oh yeah, and our good Sheev insinuated that he created Anakin Skywalker (is his father), thus making her indirectly related to Kylo Ren and the Skywalkers. 

I’m sorry, what? 

I think I just had an aneurysm. 

How damn MANY FAN THEORIES ABOUT HER PARENTAGE ARE YOU GONNA TRY TO FIT IN???

Like holy damn. So, she’s a Palpatine, a Skywalker-relative, and oh, Snoke is really Palpatine’s body clone because Palpatine just changes bodies every now and again.

THESE. WERE. ALL. FAN. THEORIES.

They KNEW we were mad about her not being related to anyone, mad about her not being a Skywalker, which she was intended to be, and mad Snoke’s presence literally meant nothing. I think Disney forced JJ to go on Tumblr or AO3 to find a few great theories and throw them into a soup just to make us happy.

Binch, you didn’t make us happy. You made us even madder and made yourselves so WEAK. You can’t even stick to your guns and make a decent movie? I wanted her parentage retconned like any normal person did, but w-what did you do? It’s like they tried too hard and not at all at the same time. 

You can’t make everyone happy and sacrifice your movie for it. Make some course corrections and adjustments, yeah, but they built this movie solely for damage control. It’s honestly disgusting.

Moreover, many, many, many people were pissed with the missed chances with Kylo’s redemption arc and they did it, but...at what cost??? I mean, if he wasn’t redeemed, Rey would have been fucked and Palpatine!Rey/Kylo would have reigned supreme forever. But they made it make no sense. Kylo!Ben found out at the very beginning of the movie that none of his interactions with his supposed grandfather, Snoke, or any other Sith Lord were not genuine and that he was being manipulated and controlled like a fucking puppet to bring Rey to Palpatine. He discovered early on he was a TOY to Palpatine...and he allowed it. 

Are you for real? 

This Kylo Ren, who I am supposed to believe is fully descended and pledged to the Dark Side and by the movie’s own admittance, sought to destroy anything/anyone questioning his power, is allowing himself to be a playtoy for this crusty-ass dude hiding in his grandparents’ basement? 

But honestly, I can’t with that. 

The biggest damage control that I can think of right now after a 9 hour shift at work and heading directly to the theatre to watch 155 minutes of prolonged Chinese water torture is this: REYLO.

So, they maybe sorta had a thing for each other? I mean, Rey kissed him after he brought her back to life by transferring some of his life energy into her after she died (????????????????????????????????????????????). They like made out a bit and then Ben died, lol.

Okay, so now we have Reylo as semi-sorta-canon. But it was beyond forced. It truly, truly, truly felt like JJ just needed one last demographic to please and just said, “Fuck it. Have ‘em lock lips.” They really just threw it in there for y’all Reylos, so congrats.

The most awful part about that is...I have always hated Reylo, but because this movie was so damn bad, that was honestly the only scene I even sort of liked. And I now have the unquestioned KNOWLEDGE that they are in fact 1st or 2nd cousins once removed. They are related and I liked that they kissed. 

I feel so dirty that that is the one thing I could half-way tolerate from this movie.

Honestly though, I am done for tonight. More to come at a later date.

Rest in Peace Star Wars (1977-2019)

[skgway]

1824 Mar., Fri. 12

6 1/4

11 40/60

Soon after I got up, and gently, my cousin came – Gave Hotspur oatmeal and water – From 8 10/60 to 9, wrote out from page 148 to 153 volume 2 Anacharsis – The morning so snowy none of the workmen came. Cleared up a little about 9 – 

Went out for a few minutes after having called I[sabella] N[orcliffe] – and spoke to Washington who went to measure the new footpath along the wood etc. to the Dolt, to be ready if such measurement should be wanted – 

Sat down to breakfast at 9 1/2 – Alluding to what Mrs. P [Priestley] said yesterday, what large fortunes Marian and I would have, and saying they doubtless supposed all would eventually centre in Marian, as I should not marry. My uncle said no, if she was going to marry I should tell them she had not a sixpence more to expect than what she got from her father. ‘Your uncle Joseph wished it to go to the name and so do I.’ 

He wished me to do something to secure it, and I promised. I said I was glad he expressed himself, s[ai]d decidedly I should say what had been his wish, and that I acted accordingly or all the world would abuse me like a pickpocket. In fact, I shall not be at liberty of conscience to leave the estate to Marian or her mamily, when I so know my uncle means me to give it to the Listers in Wales – 

At 11, took the plan of the footpaths, and set off to Halifax. Went to Mr. James Briggs, Mr. Horton’s clerk, as advised yesterday by Mr. W[illiam] P[riestley]– Not at home – went there following and called at the Saltmarshe’s – Mrs. Catherine Rawson there. 

Sat with Mrs. S– [Saltmarshe] and her about 10 minutes – then took my leave, fancying them not sorry – I have long perceived a reserve in Mrs. S– [Saltmarshe]’s manner to me – It strikes me more and more, and I less and less like calling there. Seemed even something of the same in Mrs. Catherine R– [Rawson]. 

Called, as I went, at the bank and desired them to make out my account –  Called for it on having the S– [Saltmarshe]s’ – I have now got a banking-book, in which my account will be regularly settled 1/2 yearly – The balance in my favour including three half years interest is sixteen pounds nineteen shillings – 

Went to Whitley’s and staid a long while reading advertisements etc. Among the rest “The sweepings of my study” by the author of the Hundred Wonders – In awe of the very early pages, there is a hit against Dr. Todd’s new (large) edition of Johnson’s dictionary and some amusing observations on the change of their uncouth-sounding names by several authors – Maclaughlin to Macklin Mills to Morton etc. etc. – 

Went again to Mr. James Briggs and found him at home – Shewed him the plan of the footpaths – He thinks these will have no difficulty in getting that down our court-yard, turned down the Dolt, so we shall want no new track – Mr. Wiglesworth to send him the plan a few days before the view, and he will shew and explain it to Mr. Horton –

Then went to Mr. Wiglesworths office – Washington waiting there – Mr. W[ashington] not at home – spoke to Mr. Parker – Sent him down with Washington to shew the plan and speak to Mr. Carr about stopping the footpath along the brook, and going partly thro’ the Godley land – This to appear done to please and serve Mr. Carr, who sometime ago wished my uncle to join him in the expense of stopping it – Mr. C– [Carr] very glad and much obliged – Of course, for he will now get it done for nothing – 

Returned up the old bank and got home about 1 1/2 – Talking to my uncle and aunt 1/2 hour talking to I[sabella] N[orcliffe] – 1/2 hour upstairs before she set off to walk (as usual), to Halifax – From 2 1/2 to 4 I had 1/4 hour’s nap – Translated chapters 54, 55 and wrote out the first 9 lines of chapter 54 libro ii Thucydides – Dressed etc. and sat down to dinner at 4 1/4 – 

Just before had a (brought I know not how) from Savile Hill – an Armenian grammar sent me to look at along with a kind note from Miss Pickford (11 Gloucester Row, Clifton, Bristol) – The note in Miss P– [Pickford]’s usual pithy style – Everything necessary contained in less than one page of a halfsheet note – 

She hopes I had no occasion to go to Manchester – as if I did go, that it was of radical use. “It would really oblige me if you would merely, in the most concise terms, let me know per means of pen, ink, paper, and post” ..... 

Came upstairs after dinner at 6 1/2 – 1/2 hour talking to I[sabella] N[orcliffe] – Then in 3/4 hour wrote all this journal of today – Went down to coffee at 8 50/60 – Afterwards wrote out the remainder of chapter 54 and the whole of chapter 55 libro ii Thucydides – 

Came upstairs at 10 10/60 at which hour Barometer 5 1/2 degree below changeable Fahrenheit 39 1/20º – Perpetual showers of snow and rain, of rain, and snow, during the day – The ground whitened tonight – I escaped pretty well while out this morning – Behindhand the same as yesterday (vide the last line of the journal) –

[ancient-depressed-druid]

Tyrus Week, Day One (Crush): Girls/Girls/Boys And Whatever More You Like

please read the whole thing, this is more about establishing TJ as a character and human being than just your average tyrus fluff since this is the part one of seven works set on the same timeline

Shit shit shit, fuck, fuck, shit TJ thought as he ran through the halls of Jefferson middle as if he had an angry mob behind him. His head filled with worry for all the suicide drills the coach was surely making his teammates run thanks to his lateness, he then groaned thinking about the complains he was to hear in the locker room after the practice, he felt like a shit of a captain, and all of that together will buffy leaving the team thanks to him.

Arriving at the gym, already wearing his basketball uniform, the boy quickly marched to the coach and his assistant, both looking at the team running back and front in the court.  

“Ah, kippen,” the coach said not even looking to Tj before he kept talking “you see, I thought you wanted to keep being team captain, but your actions don’t really show it… damned moment Slayer went away”.

Tj’s face contracted a little, but he swallowed his rude answer, Cyrus was trying to make him act a little better, instead, he only stood in front of the two men and pleaded “I'm so so sorry coach. My uncle was involved in a minor car accident and I got so worried I ran home without thinking and forgot about the practice. I'm so sorry,” tj gestured his hands to the court, were his teammates still ran those suicide laps please don’t take it out on them, they are not the one to blame, I am.”

The coach looked thoughtful before loudly blowing the whistle around his neck, the noise immediately stopping on their tracks and looking at the man. “alright boys, I'm sorry for making you run those laps, Kippen explained to me that he got a family emergency and couldn’t warn any of us” some of the boys groaned “anyways, you all can get your little revenge by separating into two teams and giving your best so that our game next Friday will be an absolute win, best team today doesn’t have to make three more laps after the game.” he blew the whistle again.

As Tj was turning to the court he added “seems like your actions do show you’re captain material,” the older man smirked a little “I'm gonna miss you next year, kippen. You’re one of the good ones.”Tj smiled widely and ran to the court, ready to play

.--

“YO KIPPEN!” Jack, one of the older boys o the team screamed after all of the boys had already taken their showers, screamed, attracting to himself the attention of the whole team “What really got you late, ay? Was it a girl?” after Tj’s silent answer ( his middle finger held at the other boy’s direction) he kept going “I betcha it was that redhead chick from science class that always asks you for help…”

“Uhhhhhhhhh” a collective chorus was heard throughout the locker room, followed by the laughs of most of his mates.  

“No, I betcha twas that blond chick from 7th grade, girl has a crush on him for months” another one chimed in, opening a cue to others to give their opinions too.

“Does she have a big chunk of tities?!”

“Nah, look at him, he's an ass man if I’ve ever seen one!”

“Guys, guys,” Tj tried to calm down the other players “I'm not dating anyone, stop that. And what does my personal life matters to you all so much?” he attempted to divert the conversation.

“Ohh yall see that? No chick puts him on a leash, he’s messing around with more than one girl. Leave some for us too.”

“YO Kippen is a playah!!” another boy joked.“Could you guys just shut up?!” the scream was heard all throughout the room, the whole team turned to see the origin of it.

Daniel Johnson, their most recent point guard since Slayer went away, was ready to explode. Hands held back by his sides in fists, back straight as a broomstick, head hung low and whole body shaking. He looked nothing like the friendly outgoing tall black kid most people knew him for.

“What’s the problem Dano?” one of the boys asked him

“The problem is that I'm tired,” Johnson stated in a firm voice, loud enough for the whole silent room to hear “I'm tired of this, not just the objectification of girls, but this whole shit.” he was looking at them in the eyes now “my problem is that everyone just assumes other peoples sexuality.” Daniel’s hands were pressed against his temples for a second “MY PROBLEM IS THAT EVERYONE IS STRAIGHT UNTIL PROVEN NOT THANKS TO THIS BULLSHIT HETERONORMATIVITY!”  the boy breathed deeply in the astonished silence of his team companions “I mean,” he tried to recover a little bit of control over his emotions “we only see him around slayers best friend, other than the team and his cousin”. The team kept silence for a little while before Tj broke it

“Johnson,” tj called him with the gentlest tone he could muster, a hand lightly resting on the shaking boy’s shoulder, he was almost as tall as Tj, but at that moment he looked smaller than all of them, as if he was trying to disappear from there all together “not to say everything you just said is not truth, I mean, you sure got a point on that, but,”

Tj hesitated a little, seeing the boy’s eyes fill with tears of fear, he stole a quick look at his teammates, almost all of them as worried for the boy as him. “ but, do you have something you want to tell us? If you do, I think most of us will be here for you, and if you don’t, if you're not ready to talk about it that’s alright, we’re just gonna forget it all happened and move on…”

“You think is that easy?!” his voice broke, hand smacking Tj’s own out of his shoulder “Fuck you! You have no idea what is like to be me. Is already hard enough to be a black kid in America this days, and to be a GAY black kid?” his entire body was shaking with the impact of his own words “my parents go to church every Sunday, they say people like me are abominations, and you want to tell me that everything is gonna be okay?!”

At this moment Daniel started to really cry, and in the middle of his sobs, his legs gave out a little. Tj and two other players took him to the nearest bench and sat him down, another one brought out a water bottle for the panicking boy.

 “Daniel, Danny boy” Justin, one of Daniel's closest friends inside the team squatted at Daniel’s feet and held both of his hands in an attempt to make eye contact his voice was as soft as silk as he talked with the other boy. “take real deep breaths and repeat with me Danny boy, one, twenty-two, six, eight, one thousand and nine, zero…”

Daniel repeated out loud the out of order numbers  for a couple of minutes, Justin seemed to have some kind of practice at this, cause his voice never altered itself, nor did he stopped coaching Daniel’s actions until he was sure the boy was not going to have a panic attack again for the time being.

“dude” one of the boys that were farthest from the whole issue started with a disgusted voice “don’t be too close, he may give you the gays. Or he may try to fondle you !”  

Before any of the other boys could do anything, Tj had grabbed the boy – Kyle Jones – by the front of his shirt and was holding him against the wall, fist prepared to hit its target and his own furious face inches apart from the younger boy frightened one.

“what did you say, you piece of sh…”

“that’s enough kippen!” the coach's voice was heard behind Tj, the blond boy hesitantly let go of the younger kid, but still didn’t fall back, face still menacingly close to the lanky boy, that was almost pissing himself of fear“ As much as I’d love to let you smash his face inside out, I can't bear to lose two players on the same day”  

And with that, Tj stepped back and looked at the older man, a smirk on his face that paired with the one on the wrinkled face before him. “but, but” Jones stammered in indignation “no buts, you little homophobic devil.” the coach said, voice sharp. He grabbed the kid by the ear and pulled him in front of him, facing the whole team he stated  

“This is no place for prejudicial people. if you want to act like that you’re out of the team, for good! Now move, we’re gonna have a long talk with the principal and your parents, you'll be lucky if you get out with just a suspension, and right before your finals.” Both man and child walked out of the locker room.

“By the way, congrats miller, you’re not on the bench anymore”

--

After all that chaos, Tj and a few other boys from the team went out with  Justin and Daniel to grab some food and talk a little. Tj had just got back home from The Spoon (his cousin discount was very useful at times) when he started thinking about Daniel's words, about how people really judged one another as straight until proven wrong.

Tj was glad for his mom and dad being at work (mom was a pediatrician and dad an architect and both worked late on Fridays to be able to spend most of the weekend focused on Tj ) otherwise he would have to explain to them why the sudden the sudden hunger strike even after arriving from a restaurant as he mindlessly opened the fridge and took out enough food to feed three people.

Thank the universe he practiced basketball frequently or he would be most certainly morbidly obese right now. As he stuffed his face with delicious food, the blond player started to recall his own crushes since he was little:

The first he could remember was Megan Cruz, a girl from his fourth-grade class that always wore pink and had blonde pigtails Tj earned to pull from the first day he saw her, and the first lesson tj learned about crushes on his life came just after he gave in to his childish desires and pulled said pigtails: be nice to your crush, otherwise they won't like you back.

The next one was a crush Tj didn’t even consider a crush until now, his fifth-grade classmate and almost best friend Freddie Wilson, a redhead freckled boy that always carried around a small camera to take pictures of things he found nice. Thinking now, Tj probably confused his feelings for friendship and never acted on them, happy to only be by the lanky boy’s side day by day, that is, until the boy’s father got a job at another state and they had to move away.

The following crush was on another girl, or Tj thought it was at first since Riley dressed in purple and wore skirts, that’s what girls did, right? And that was Tj’s first encounter with non-binary people, Riley didn’t like to be called a boy or a girl, they used both “boy” and “girl” clothes and had “boy” and “girl” toys. Tj attributed his crush to the androgynous appearance of Riley, however, the crush didn’t fade after discovering Riley was not a boy or a girl, it only vanished after the end of his sixth grade.

The last one of his crushes was Chloe Summers, a girl he met on a basketball summer camp at the beginning of seventh grade and his first and only relationship so far, she’s one year older than him but really shorter and smiled all the time. They dated for almost half a year after the eight-week camp and are to this time long-distance friends since she lived in LA and him in Shadyside. They both decided to be better of as friends after she started crushing on her best friend, Jordan, a relationship Tj fully supported and even got to know him on one of their monthly Skype sessions.

So that was it, two girls, one boy, and a non-binary person were all of TJ’s crushes till the present moment. What did it mean? He asked himself. That was the moment he realized he’s done eating his food since there was nothing more to eat without having to cook something from scratch. He was glad Friday was pizza day at his house…

--

Tj spent most of the night browsing on the internet in search for answers to his questions, but it wasn’t until Saturday morning he found his answer: he identified the most with the term pansexual. A person attracted to people not limited to biological sex, gender or gender identity, Google described what he pretty much felt.

He also got a little more interested on human rights and representation on the media, so much that he ended up discovering some celebrities that recently came out as pansexual, such as Janelle Monáe, Sia, and Brendon Urie, and got really into the Marvel character Deadpool, who also identifies as pansexual. Even though he had such examples, he knew most people wouldn’t know what pansexuality was (he himself didn’t know until hours before) since the majority of the population didn’t even believe bisexuality to be valid.

Johnson sure was right about heteronormativity societies. He was debating with himself what to do, should he come out now, he wasn’t afraid of people like Jones, but he sure was terrified of rejection from his parents and friends now that he didn’t just have dyscalculia, but also was not straight.

At least I don’t have a crush to worry about on top of all of that he thought to himself, but at that moment his phone beamed with a notification sound, he had a new message from Cyrus, and audio nonetheless. Tj pressed play to find out what his best friend could possibly want that early on a Saturday afternoon.

“Tj, sorry to bother you, but I just now got time to answer the question you sent yesterday about me going to the game…” Cyrus' voice sounded on TJs room, he sounded as if he was restraining himself from apologizing for hours. Tj felt his stomach sink in his belly at the thought of Cyrus not going to his last game on Jefferson middle.

“…and even though andi thinks I shouldn’t go after how you acted with Buffy, I’d be delighted to watch you play for our school for the last time.” there was a giggle at the younger boy’s voice that made Tj smile “so, see you at school on Monday? I know how your parents like to spend time with you whenever they can, so I'm not gonna bother you anymore for the time being” and that’s the end of the voice message.

Cyrus is going to my game Tj thought as he felt the small smile already present on his face widen into one that could only be described as a dumb smile, his palms were sweaty and his stomach now felt like it was full of those damn butterflies of the movies amber made him watch when they were little.

Remembering all the moments he shared with Cyrus up until now, he came to the conclusion that wasn’t the first time he felt like that at the presence, or mere mention of the boy. That cute dorky beautiful boy he would do anything to protect from the world around them, especially if it meant he’d have the chance to cradle his smaller, more delicate body into his arms, smell his amazing lavender and pine scent and maybe kiss those big oh so kissable lips and…

Fuck, not now, not this. He cursed himself inside his head. Not only had he realized his sexuality, he also realized his most recent crush, the only boy he sure would never have a chance with, even if he was not straight (what Tj was only 40% sure he wasn’t, thanks to his abundant talk about iris, his last girlfriend and how he would probably ruin any other relationship he’d have in the far future by embarrassing himself in front of them just like he did in front of the older girl whenever the subject of relationships came along) thanks to him being too friendly and straight up bullying said boy’s best friend.

Ughhh! I put myself into the friendzone and ended up with every chance I could have thanks to what I did to Slayer, I AM retarded after all. He damned himself for not realizing his feelings before when he maybe got a chance. He just hoped this would be a small, irrelevant crush that he could get over in no time, if not, he was sure it was going to hurt, but he would keep being Cyrus’ friend above all.

hope you guys like it see you tomorrow

[redpandanewsnetwork-blog]

EXCLUSIVE: Former Pentagon Chief of Staff, Kevin Sweeney, Validates Controversial Conspiracy Theories Concerning the Moon Landing, 9/11, and Extraterrestrials

WASHINGTON — On Sunday the former Pentagon chief of staff — Kevin Sweeney — resigned. The news of his resignation comes days after James Mattis, former Secretary of Defense, announced his departure from President Trump’s administration. 

In an exclusive interview with Red Panda News Network reporter, Melissa Mahoney, Sweeney validated some of the wildest conspiracy theories, such as the faking of the Apollo moon landing, 9/11 as an inside job, and even the existence of reptilian aliens. 

A transcript of the conversation is below.

Good morning, Mr. Sweeney. Thank you for agreeing to this interview. 

Good morning to you, Ms. Mahoney. It’s no problem at all. It’s nice to air out old laundry anyway [laughs].

So firstly, a question that I’m sure is on everyone’s mind: Why did you choose to resign? 

Well, to tell you the truth, Ms. Mahoney, it’s because I didn’t want to be there when everything collapses on the Trump administration. [Laughs heartily]

I’m glad to see you’re in good spirits this morning. I can imagine it must be tough working under a president who’s been known to shut out any sort of criticism. 

Ah, well, thank you. I smoked a fat joint about thirty minutes before coming into this studio. I love this newfound freedom I have. Normally I’d be nervous, but anyone who leaves this batshit insane administration is bound to land a book deal anyway. Case in point, Sean Spicer’s new book, The Briefing, and whatever piece vitriol Scaramucci released this past Fall [referring to Anthony Scaramucci’s newest book, Trump: The Blue Collar President].

Well, they do say that there’s no such thing as bad press. 

Unless you’re Hillary Clinton, that is. 

Point taken. Anyway, you told me before the interview that you wanted to shed some light on “matters of grave importance.” You mentioned that one of these “matters” is the staging of the Apollo missions and the moon landing. Can you tell me more about how this was staged?

Oh boy, yes, the Apollo missions were a whole bunch of baloney. Honestly, they just had some kids from NYU’s film and theater department covertly work with the Johnson and then Nixon administrations to stage a moon landing in Los Angeles. They just got a bunch of sand and juxtaposed some images of the beach and ran it through some filters. It was the height of the Cold War and the Soviets were launching apes into space and well, we had to respond to that. I mean, a monkey in space? How cool is that?! America really needed to one-up them, so we did with some good ol’ fashioned Hollywood magic. Getting the lighting and flag motions on photograph was rather hard though. As you can imagine, it’s not easy to recreate the moon on earth, but somehow they managed. 

Wow, so you’re saying that Americans have never visited the moon?

No American has ever visited the moon, but the lunar rover in the 90s was the real deal. By that point, we really did have the technology to send humans to the moon as well. But we already had the victory so it didn’t make sense for the government to fund NASA to send more people to the moon when rovers and satellites could collect all the samples needed. 

Unbelievable. Honestly, I’m not sure what to say. That really must be a tough pill to swallow for Baby Boomers. 

Yes, it is indeed. But swallow the pill we must if we’re to move on. 

There’s no shortage of wisdom from you, it seems. Another popular conspiracy theory is that the “Planes Plan” was a cover-up for the attacks on the World Trade Centers and the Pentagon, which for the former was a controlled demolition, and the latter a missile strike. Do the conspiracies here hold any water?

Absolutely. The Planes Plan was a complete and utter lie. My cousin, Todd Sweeney, was one of the demolition experts in charge of the towers. Sure, actual planes were involved in the Twin Towers attacks, but do you really think jet fuel could melt steel beams? That’s just ludicrous. The way those towers collapsed looked like something out of a Tonka Truck commercial. It was way too clean — the kind of controlled construction project our dear leader could only dream he was capable of orchestrating. 

And what about the Pentagon?

Oh, yeah, we just shot that son-of-a-bitch with a MIM-104 Patriot missile. That baby is a true work of American ingenuity right there. Probably the most iconic SAM [surface-to-air missile] in our Republic’s arsenal.

How is it possible that all of this remained such a closely guarded secret?

Same way that the CIA-sponsored assassination of JFK remained secret: through careful planning, big money, and vacuum-sealed lips. 

Wait, JFK was assassinated by the CIA?

Yes, but I don’t think we’re going to have time to get into that one. 

That’s true. Ah, but now I’m so curious... But back to the point; tell me who was in charge of the September 11 attacks?

It was mostly a threesome between Cheney, Wolfowitz, and Rumsfeld. Cheney’s got a long history of making money off of warfare with Haliburton. He goaded President Bush into following his lead. He manipulated Bush by attacking his insecurities. You see, George W. Bush was terribly anxious about living up to his father’s expectations. I mean, his father was a beloved president and George W. Bush knew he didn’t have the chops. But still, his father sort of pigeonholed him into the presidency. It’s a sad story about an even sadder man.

That’s a shame.

It sure is. As for Wolfowitz and Rumsfeld, well, they’ve had a neoliberal — or as I like to call it, a neolibtard — circle jerk for quite some time. They’ve always been war brokers and this was just another business plan as far as they were concerned. 

Well, this is all just so much to take in. If what you’re saying is true, it would change everything. And you’ll be going into far more detail about these and other conspiracies and government secrets in your upcoming book, right? 

Absolutely. I know it may seem presumptuous to think I’ve definitely got a book deal coming, but come on. If that jerk off Scaramucci can land a deal, then any idiot can. I mean, It’s a crazy time we’re living in. Hillary Clinton’s book [referring to Clinton’s book, What Happened], is a New York Times Best Seller, for crying out loud. This is the age of hack writers, I’m telling ya.

Is there any other conspiracy you’d like to confirm before our time is up?

The earth has been visited by extraterrestrial life. Roswell? Full of aliens. Our nation’s capitol? Also full of aliens. The whole “grays” thing is hogwash, though. The reptilian conspiracy theorists got it right. However, neither the Clintons nor the Obamas are themselves reptilians as some claim. No, they just work with them directly. But don’t hold your breath, Republicans, cause plenty of folks in the GOP work for them too. I’m sure he won’t admit it, but Paul Ryan plays pool with them every Saturday night. I’ll leave the rest up to the readers’ imaginations until the book comes out. But if you really can’t wait to find out then I suggest you find yourself a dealer and start smoking some DMT [referring to the potent psychoactive hallucinogen]. 

Well Mr. Sweeney, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you again for agreeing to this interview with me.

Anytime, Ms. Mahoney, anytime. 

[aomoviegeek]

What I think Disney & Lucasfilm should do with Star Wars Episode IX...

This was actually a reply to @themandalorianwolf’s post, but because it was so long, I decided to make it its own post.

Here we go...

I don’t honestly think Rian Johnson’s trilogy was a Disney decision.

Here’s how I think things went down:

Things happen months, even a year before things are announced.

Kathleen Kennedy is clearly attached to Rian Johnson and greenlit his trilogy based off the hype some time ago.

Kathleen Kennedy wasn’t checking in on her projects. Remember the Solo problem? Kathleen didn’t even realize how much trouble the production was in till late. My guess is that TLJ controversy of Rian throwing out JJ’s outline went unnoticed until it was way too late or it wasn’t addressed. It was actually only Rian who did that. The original ep 9 director followed JJ’s outline.

Meanwhile Disney realized after the creative conflict between Rian and Colin, the test screenings showing mixed reviews, Rian’s inflated ego and the cast’s low moral, Disney made the choice to hire JJ back in hopes of salvaging their future.

Disney isn’t stupid. They’re one of the riches companies on the planet. They’re willing to play the long game. Disney let Kathleen Kennedy hang herself and now she’s slowly being fazed out. Rian Johnson is going to lose his trilogy. At best his trilogy will be one movie that is pushed back for some time and die there.

Disney is banking on the success of Episode 9 and here’s my guess on what JJ will do Generally:

Luke Skywalker will return. The PR of killing him was a nightmare and it will probably be retconed with a force teleport. JJ has plans for Luke and I doubt there done.

Finnrey will become canon. The only thing that has stayed a constant was the relationship between Finn and Rey.

John Boyega’s increased popularity, the racial backlash, John’s moral being higher, and JJ’s preceded writing style, Finn will be the lead again and more than likely a Jedi since it was foreshadowed.

Ep 9 will be broken into a 2 part movie to finish the saga of the Skywalkers. One movie will work like the Clone Wars while the other part will be the official closer.

Rey Skywalker will more than likely be a thing. It’s the eaist thing to do and let’s Disney bring Daisy Ridley back as the wise Jedi Master in future movies.

Honestly due to Kylo Ren’s popularity, and the First Order in general, I’m not sure if they’ll kill them off indefinitely. More than likely make some of them disappear into the unknown regions.

Leia…I’m not sure. There’s no good way to handle that. Maybe she’ll be made the Chancellor between the time skip to explain her absence.

The Resistance will just merge back into the New Republic and get their allies from independent factions.

The Skywalker saga will end and probably this will be the ending of trilogy based Star Wars films and just movies like the Avengers.

- @themandalorianwolf

This is gonna be a long post…

I would absolutely 100% love it if they split Episode IX into two parts. Part I in 2019 and Part II in either 2020 or 2021. Why? Because this really might be the only way the sequel trilogy can be properly concluded. There’s WAY too many loose ends and unanswered questions to wrap into one film. They need to take their time with the storyline of Episode IX. I say split into two films, put out Part Iin 2019, surprise us with a Part II announcement and then we’ll wait a year or two to see the official conclusion to the sequel trilogy and possibly the Skywalker Saga as well. And then we’d have 10 movies in the Skywalker Saga instead of 9.

That would be amazing if they brought back Luke, not as a Force Ghost, but alive and well in the flesh. If Jedis are able to teleport themselves as a hologram to other planets, they probably should be able to teleport themselves physically. He just left his robe behind.

FinnRey definitely must be canon!

I repeat - MUST BE CANON!!!

John definitely deserves the spotlight back and I hope JJ can make that happen. Making him Force-sensitive with the potential to become a Jedi would be amazing and I hope we see that as well.

And Finn’s family: If Billy Dee Williams is returning in Episode IX, I honestly think it would be cool if Lando was revealed to be Finn’s father. Then we could get a very emotional, heartwarming father/son reunion and a great setup for Finn’s story in the film.

We could find out that Finn was kidnapped by the First Order when he was a baby and his mother (who was also Force-sensitive) was killed trying to protect him while Lando was too injured to save them and the loss of his son & wife left him traumatized and depressed for years. Hell, maybe Captain Phasma was the one who killed Finn’s mother!

Unless Phasma somehow returns in Episode IX alive and well and more badass than ever, I think Finn would be satisfied to know he avenged his mother’s death without even realizing it. But if Phasma returns though, Finn will be ready for her. Imagine it: A real, totally-badass final battle between Finn and Phasma. Maybe even with an unmasked Phasma. I think that would be extremely awesome.

Rey Skywalker must also be canon.

I repeat - MUST BE CANON!!!

Luke returning physically would also be good for this reveal. It’d give him a chance to explain to Rey, in the flesh instead of a Force Ghost, about his behavior in The Last Jedi, why he never told her the truth, who her mother was, etc. This would also be a great opportunity for Hayden Christensen to return as the Force Ghost of Anakin Skywalker so that he’s there to defend Luke and help explain the truth to Rey.

This would set up a great new storyline for Luke & Rey in Episode IX and maybe, with all that’s happened, he’ll agree to actually train her. And maybe he’ll train Finn as well.

This HAS to happen!

Something else I’d love to see canon: Kaydel Connix to be revealed as Han & Leia’s daughter and Kylo Ren’s sister

This HAS to happen!

I honestly believe this is the best way possible to pay tribute to Carrie Fisher and keep her legacy going both on-screen and off-screen.

And it also allows Leia’s half of the Skywalker bloodline (as well as Han Solo’s bloodline) to continue through Kaydel while Luke’s half continues through Rey. Luke’s daughter and Leia’s daughter keeping their family’s legacy alive, even if Episode IX marks the end of the Skywalker Saga and we never see that family on the big screen ever again.

I would love it if we found out Kaydel’s real name is Breha Solo and Rey’s is Padme Skywalker. Then Leia would have named her daughter after her adoptive mother and Luke would have named his daughter after his & Leia’s mother. Plus, to me, Ben and Breha Solo sounds fitting together, much like Jaina and Jacen Solo from the Expanded Universe.

I would also really love to see Kaydel take over for her mother as General of the Resistance… or the Reborn Rebellion, whatever they wanna call themselves now.

Maybe she could also find a way to combine her alias with her birthname as a way to honor her parents. Maybe she could call herself Kaydel Solo or Kaydel Connix Solo, make Breha her middle name and then her new full name would be Kaydel Breha Connix Solo.

Also…

PONNIX (Poe x Connix)

Just like Finn & Rey, I love these two characters together and I was happy to see them have some screen-time together in The Last Jedi. And if Kaydel is Han & Leia’s daughter, it makes this romance even more interesting.

Darth Vader tortured Han Solo (in The Empire Strikes Back) and then later he became his son-in-law. So now, Kylo Ren tortured Poe Dameron (in The Force Awakens) and later on, he becomes his brother-in-law. Crazy, isn’t it?

Also, given the relationship between Leia and Poe, it would be very interesting for him to become a part of her family. Her son-in-law.

And eventually, Finn, Rey, Kaydel and Poe will all be a family. Rey and Kaydel could even form a strong sisterly relationship (something I’d love to see happen) and their future children could call them “Aunt Rey”, “Aunt Kaydel”, “Uncle Finn” and “Uncle Poe” (that’d also be easier than calling them cousins like in real life).

Also, since it’s rumored that we’ll see Ewan McGregor reprising his role as Obi-Wan Kenobi in Episode IX (possibly followed by an Obi-Wan anthology film), maybe we could see… A NEW Kenobi in Episode IX?

This is definitely just excited fan talking, but I think it would be really cool to have a new Kenobi in Episode IX to satisfy those who want Obi-Wan to have a family, who wanna learn more about what he was doing on Tatooine for almost twenty years (other than watching over Luke) and just what his life was like from the very beginning.

Maybe Rey could be both a Skywalker and a Kenobi with her mother & Luke’s wife being Obi-Wan’s daughter. That would definitely explain why Rey is so powerful and make her the granddaughter of two of the greatest and most powerful Jedi Knights ever.

Or maybe Finn could be a Kenobi (for those who have not seen it, I actually have a post about that theory). Yes, believe it or not, not all biracial people have mixed skin colors. Some are darker than others, some are lighter than others. So there is a chance Finn could be Obi-Wan’s grandson and he could still even be Lando’s son. Just reveal that Lando married Obi-Wan’s daughter and they had Finn together.

Plus, we would get to see Obi-Wan’s grandson and Anakin’s granddaughter training together, falling in love with each other, teaming up against Kylo Ren & the First Order together and later marrying each other and having children together - the great-grandchildren of Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker. And if Finn’s a Calrissian as well, those kids are Luke’s grandchildren through Rey and Lando’s grandchildren through Finn. Crazy, isn’t it?

I’m honestly not counting on a new Kenobi to appear. It really is just excited fan thinking. But I think it would be really cool to have Finn be a Kenobi & Rey a Skywalker or maybe have Rey be both a Skywalker & a Kenobi. That plus Obi-Wan’s potential appearance in Episode IX would be perfect ways to launch and market a Kenobi anthology film possibly coming in the future.

……

Wow. That was a lot!

But at least it’s done.

[league-of-light]

Week 4 Pick’em

Look, I know I’m late on the picks this week.  I wanted to get them in yesterday, but other things came up and I didn’t get to it.  I’m sorry, ok?  To make up for it, I have written quite the long pick’em for this week.  I’m not entirely sure if I will be able to make them this long every week, but I think I should be able to. 

Why would I spend all this time writing the pick’em? Great question.  Isn’t there a more productive use of your time? Probably.  Will, you’re moving next week, shouldn’t you be packing or something?  Are you just spending way more time writing picks as a means to delay the inevitable anxiety you’re going to feel about starting a new job and moving?  Do you think this is the healthiest way to deal with that? Psh, you’re not my therapist. 

Anyway, here goes

Yerboi vs Brenner? I hardly know’er

This Will vs. Brenner bout, should be promotionally billed as “Chronically Injured and Underperforming” vs “Complete Lineup Ineptitude”. Both teams come into Week 3 at a resounding 0-2, and are looking to get their season on track after some of high profile trades in the first couple weeks of the season.

There are always big expectations when you make a trade in Fantasy Football.  Typically speaking, you hope and expect that the players you got are going to outperform whomever you traded away (or at the very least perform somewhat similarly). Unfortunately, that won’t always be the case.  Sometimes there are weeks like last week, where JuJu outscored T.Y. Hilton and I am forced to sit there and reflect on how I would have won if I just kept JuJu.  Other times, there are weeks like this week, where Brenner ensures he doesn’t have to deal with the emotional trauma of a trade gone awry because he benches the players he traded for. (No there aren’t, this literally never happens)

I pick myself, simply because I don’t think I’ve actually ever seen a team projected to score as few points as Brenner.

Story To Watch: How quickly it will take Drew Brees to score more than the 3 points Brenner got from Tyrod Taylor.  My guess is 4 plays.

Tangiphil vs Hewie and the Hashslingers

After a fairly explosive first week of the season, we can all finally exhale — Phil’s team is bad again. Shockingly, his 3-headed Running Back Monster is down a head.  Unlike the legend of the Hydra, instead of another head growing in it’s place, Phil decided to chase last week’s bench points and play Nelson Agholor.  If you check his bench this week you may notice Joe Mixon outside of the IR slot, Isaiah Crowell’s wasted 18 point TNF total, and another Jets receiver.  That’s right folks, it’s week 3 and Phil is already in midseason form.

But enough about Phil. Steve is 2-0 and I expect his win streak to continue this week.  In my humble opinion, his team is underprojected with only 98 points, as Big Ben, Melvin Gordon, and Marvin Jones all look poised to be playing catchup in potentially high scoring games.  Look for Steve to hopefully rise in the power rankings after squashing Phil.

Story To Watch: He may be the second head of a three two-headed running back monstrosity, but Adrian Peterson is going to look more like Mike Wazowski than James P. Sullivan this week.  The Packers offense comes to FedEx Field with an offense that looks like two-day expedited shipping, while the Redskins offense has been looking like the Pony Express. Game script gets away from the ‘Skins and they abandon the run.

Kyle vs Sean

Close to half of this league isn’t from Rockland, so I’m going to use this opportunity to tell a story.  To the hometown heroes - some of the overarching details may be incorrect, but I don’t care I have the talking stick. If you want accuracy you can write the damn blog post next week.  Anyway, in sixth grade every middle school student has to take World History.  The curriculum is geared towards ancient civilizations, and a decent chunk of time is spent on Egypt.  As such, every year there was (is?, not sure if they still do it) a grade-wide Egypt project where students had to use their knowledge of Egypt, make something, and showcase it to the class.  Think of it like a science fair, but with crappy Egyptian dioramas instead of baking soda volcanoes.  Since I was a bright eyed ambitious young man who loved art and mythology, I knew I would do great on this project.  I chose the ambitious task of making a sculpture of Horus, the Falcon-headed man prince of the Egyptian pantheon. It wasn’t long before I realized my doodling skills didn’t translate well into making 3D models, but I was in far too deep.  I molded the clay as best I could, and then “accidentally” left it in the oven too long so it burned to a crisp and was nearly unidentifiable.  Needless to say, I didn’t do very well on that project.

Why am I telling you this? Because look at Sean’s team.  Does it look real good on paper? Sure. Does that mean he is likely going to win this week? Probably.  But has his overconfidence blinded him into creating a team made of glass with absolutely no depth in a 16-team league? 67%, yes.  (Because that is the grade I got on the project.)

Story to Watch: Alex Collins has become the running back equivalent of Hillary Swank.  Hot or not? Stay tuned this week and find out…

You Guys Again vs. Johnson Ertz

The moment you’ve all been waiting for is here folks.  I…..I can’t believe it’s finally happening.  After almost two full years, the day has finally come.  Dylan Feldman vs. Dylan Costa are facing off in a fantasy football matchup which I am officially dubbing “The Battle for the Right to be Called Dylan in the Fantasy Football League Group Chat” (and since we love our acronyms here, aka TB4TR2BCDITFFLGC).  Two Dylans enter, only one Dylan leaves. This matchup is arguably one of the most important matchups we have ever seen in this league, and has a chance to change the history books forever.

Unfortunately for Dylan Costa, his squad isn’t exactly striking fear into anyone these days.  I’ll have to go with Dylan Feldman, but his lineup has more red letters than Hester Prynne after an all weekend slumber party at Arthur Dimmesdale’s Dimmesdale Dimmahome.

Story to Watch: With the return of Aaron “I smoke Marijuana so Bowers thinks I’m a bad person” Jones coming back to Green Bay, Jamaal Williams’ usage should be monitored. As the kids say, he hasn’t been very good over the past two weeks, and Aaron Jones is ready to come in blazing *~!420!~*

Bearkley vs. Watch Me

Imagine my shock when I saw I won the bidding war for Ryan Fitzpatrick.  I immediately rushed to find the owners of the Tampa Bay WRs so I could celebrate our good fortune as Fitzmagic showers us all with fantasy points.  Now imagine my shock when I saw Samantha has benched Chris Godwin, not only a rookie (we all know my irrational hype with rookies), but a rookie whose name is lit a combination of God and Win.  I don’t know about you, but doesn’t it feel like Samantha has renounced God and doesn’t want to win this week’s matchup?

On the flipside, Nico runs our Dungeons and Dragons group, and if the 80s taught me anything it’s don’t feed weird aliens after midnight, and that D&D is for devil worshipping heathens.  With any hope of good Christian fun squandered for this matchup, it really is anybody’s game.  I want to believe in the underdog, but more favorable matchups lead me to believe that Nico will pull out the W.

Story to Watch: Saquon Barkley caught 2 of 6 targets week 1 against the Jags.  That number increased to 14 of 16 targets last week as Eli Manning completely lost interest in holding on to the football for more than 1 second.  Is it possible that Saquon receives 28 targets this game as Eli Manning has to look JJ Watt and Jadaveon Clowney in the eyes?

Washington vs. Walshington

I want to take a second here and pour one out for Walsh, who didn’t answer my trade offer or my text message regarding Dalvin Cook and Allen Robinson.  Walsh, you took an injury bullet for me and I will forever be grateful.  It’s appropriate that I mention taking a bullet, because rumors have it Frank Gore was actually there when the first metal bullet was shot in 1425.  Between Gore and Kerryon Johnson, Walsh will be lucky if he gets 14.25 points from his running backs this week.

Andy surprisingly continues to ride or die with Andrew Luck, despite Luck being unable to throw the football more than 15 yards. At this point I assume he is just taunting Arielle with Bortles on his bench, and we have to assume that if Bortles continues putting up 30 point games, eventually Andy might start him.  The biggest story on this squad is how Andy managed to get two of the best big play boom or bust WRs with John Brown and Will Fuller, while also having Amari Cooper and Mike Evans.  That’s a solid receiving core you got there pal, and I just want you to know I see it and appreciate it.

Story To Watch: C’mon, it’s Philip Lindsay.  Every week it’s Philip Lindsay. Everyone loves a hometown hero and I have greatly enjoyed watching this kid ball out.

Bowers v Arielle

I’m high on Dylan Leone Arielle’s team this year.  How could you not be? It was drafted by a man who has $45,000 in fantasy football great young woman who has shown her commitment to the league.  For whatever reason, ESPN’s site stopped working just as I was going to look at this matchup, so unfortunately I am going to have to give an abridged write up of my pick.  I have played these teams back to back so you would assume I know who is on their rosters, but I can’t remember anything other than Russell Wilson and James Conner on Arielle’s team, and Golden Tate and Kirk Cousins on Bowers’.

Based on this limited memory alone, I suppose I am going to pick Bowers in what will likely be another close matchup for the Reikland Reavers

Story to Watch: The story of life as I take this momentary absence from ESPN’s Fantasy Football to reflect on the finer things in the world.  Like Yahoo Fantasy Football.

Jason v Harnsowl

ESPN is still not working for me, neither on my phone nor my computer, so I can’t really give much analysis here.  However, not much analysis is needed.  Unlike his godless sister, Jason is a man of faith. And if George Michaels taught us anything, it’s that you gotta have faith.  You gotta have faith, faith, faith.  Carson Wentz returns this week and I don’t care whoever Harnsowl is playing, it doesn’t really matter.  I mean, as far as the matchup is concerned it might matter, but emotionally speaking, Jason has already won this week. 

I can’t be expected to pick a winner in a matchup that already has a winner, so instead I’ll take this time to remind you to spay or neuter your pets.  Bob Barker used to do a fantastic job of reminding the American people to do so, and if I am being completely honest I just don’t think Drew Carey delivers the message with the same panache. Like sure, I know Drew still says it at the end of the show, but does he really even believe it? Only Drew can really answer that question, but if I had to guess I would bet $100 $101 Drew.  While we’re on the topic, if any of you ever manage to go on Price is Right and you do that thing where you bid one dollar higher than someone else did, you can consider our friendship over.  Not only is it the worst strategy ever, it’s also rude as hell to the other contestant.  In some cases I’m sure the people legitimately don’t know what to bet after someone else bet around the same thing they did, but for the love of God at least bet like $10 higher so there is some tension in the room.  

But yeah, back to football, I pick Jason

Story to Watch: The next episode of Price is Right, Monday September 24th

[sannypro]

online paper writing services

An essay is, generally, a piece of creating that gives the author's own conflict, anyway the definition is dark, covering with those of a letter, a paper, an article, a flyer, and a short story. Essays have usually been sub-appointed formal and easygoing. Formal essays are depicted by "veritable explanation, pride, cognizant affiliation, length," however the easygoing essay is depicted by "the individual part (self-exposure, solitary inclinations and experiences, secret way), humor, easy style, wandering carelessly plan, unconventionalities or peculiarity of subject," etc.[1] Essays are normally used as insightful examination, political announcements, learned disputes, view of step by step life, recollections, and impressions of the author. For all intents and purposes all front line essays are written in piece, yet works in verse have been named essays (e.g., Alexander Pope's An Essay on Criticism and An Essay on Man). While brevity typically portrays an essay, voluminous works like John Locke's An Essay Concerning Human Understanding and Thomas Malthus' An Essay on the Principle of Population are counterexamples. In specific countries (e.g., the United States and Canada), essays have become a critical piece of formal guidance. Assistant understudies are prepared coordinated essay associations to improve their forming capacities; affirmation essays are consistently used by schools in picking competitors, and in the humanities and humanistic systems essays are every now and again used as a technique for assessing the display of understudies during last trial of the year. The possibility of an "essay" has been connected with other media past creation. A film essay is a film that as often as possible solidifies story filmmaking styles and zeros in extra on the progression of a subject or thought. A photographic essay covers a subject with an associated course of action of photographs that may have going with text or captions. While Montaigne's way of thinking was respected and replicated in France, none of his most quick educates attempted to compose essays. In any case, Montaigne, who got a kick out of the chance to fancy that his family (the Eyquem line) was of English extraction, had talked about the English individuals as his "cousins", and he was early perused in England, prominently by Francis Bacon.[6] Bacon's essays, distributed in book structure in 1597 (just a brief time after the passing of Montaigne, containing the initial ten of his essays),[6] 1612, and 1625, were simply the main works in English that depicted themselves as essays. Ben Jonson initially utilized the word essayist in 1609, as indicated by the Oxford English Dictionary. Other English essayists included Sir William Cornwallis, who distributed essays in 1600 and 1617 that were famous at the time,[6] Robert Burton (1577–1641) and Sir Thomas Browne (1605–1682). In Italy, Baldassare Castiglione expounded on cultured habits in his essay Il Cortigiano. In the seventeenth century, the Spanish Jesuit Baltasar Gracián expounded on the subject of wisdom.[7] In England, during the Age of Enlightenment, essays were a supported device of polemicists who pointed toward persuading perusers regarding their position; they additionally highlighted intensely in the ascent of periodical writing, as found in progress of Joseph Addison, Richard Steele and Samuel Johnson. Addison and Steele utilized the diary Tatler (established in 1709 by Steele) and its replacements as storage facilities of their work, and they turned into the most commended eighteenth-century essayists in England. Johnson's essays show up during the 1750s in different comparable publications.[6] because of the emphasis on diaries, the term additionally obtained an importance inseparable from "article", albeit the substance may not the exacting definition. Then again, Locke's An Essay Concerning Human Understanding isn't an essay by any stretch of the imagination, or group of essays, in the specialized sense, yet at the same time it alludes to the test and provisional nature of the request which the rationalist was undertaking.[6] In the eighteenth and nineteenth hundreds of years, Edmund Burke and Samuel Taylor Coleridge composed essays for the overall population. The mid nineteenth century, specifically, saw a multiplication of incredible essayists in English—William Hazlitt, Charles Lamb, Leigh Hunt and Thomas de Quincey all wrote various essays on different subjects, resuscitating the prior elegant style. Later in the century, Robert Louis Stevenson likewise raised the structure's scholarly level.[8] In the twentieth century, various essayists, like T.S. Eliot, attempted to clarify the new developments in craftsmanship and culture by utilizing essays. Virginia Woolf, Edmund Wilson, and Charles du Bos composed abstract analysis essays.[7] In France, a few journalists created longer works with the title of essai that were false instances of the structure. Nonetheless, by the mid-nineteenth century, the Causeries du lundi, paper segments by the pundit Sainte-Beuve, are abstract essays in the first sense. Other French scholars stuck to this same pattern, including Théophile Gautier, Anatole France, Jules Lemaître and Émile Faguet.[8] Japan Principle article: Zuihitsu Similarly as with the novel, essays existed in Japan a few centuries before they created in Europe with a class of essays known as zuihitsu—approximately associated essays and divided thoughts. Zuihitsu have existed since practically the beginnings of Japanese writing. A large number of the most noted early works of Japanese writing are in this kind. Striking models incorporate The Pillow Book (c. 1000), by court woman Sei Shōnagon, and Tsurezuregusa (1330), by especially famous Japanese Buddhist priest Yoshida Kenkō. Kenkō portrayed his short compositions comparatively to Montaigne, alluding to them as "silly considerations" written "out of gear hours". Another critical distinction from Europe is that ladies have customarily written in Japan, however the more formal, Chinese-affected works of male authors were more valued at that point.