#Year: 2009

[bbcmerlinvault]

Scans of a promotional booklet for series 2. These come from LJ user theocrox331 who received the booklet as part of a goody bag they won at the "Inside The World Of Merlin" BAFTA event in London which took place November 21st 2009. They share some initial photos of the booklet here and the hi-res scans here (the second link which went to a folder download no longer works but the first which takes you to a gallery still does)

If anyone does want to download the folder all at once, I've uploaded it here

[nocontextspiderman]

New Avengers #53 (2009)

[nightmaredazzling]

𝕵𝖔𝖊𝖞 𝖎𝖓 "𝕬𝖑𝖑 𝕳𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝕴𝖘 𝕲𝖔𝖓𝖊" 𝖊𝖗𝖆 (2008) >>>🛐🖤🤎🖤🤘🔥🔥🔥

[alilvalearchive]

Vale: Brivio comes to me and says "They're gonna make us start from the last row." The last row? Are you joking? Gibernau and I have always had a good relationship because I like him as a person; we've always been pretty good friends. In Qatar, he betrayed me and played dirty—he and his chief mechanic, who used to work with me the year before. Narrator: Gibernau starts from the front row, Rossi from the last: between them, there are 18 riders. Vale: When I started the race I only wanted one thing: to catch Gibernau, that was some crazy goal ... cause he started from pole position and I had some difficulties ... and I was starting from the back ... but I didn't care about anything else ... I wanted to catch Gibernau Narrator: The race starts. Valentino starts his comeback with so much fury that he overtakes riders using both "good manners" and "bad manners." After four laps, there are only four bikes between Valentino and Gibernau. But just as the hunter starts smelling his prey, Valentino loses control of the bike and ends up in the gravel. Vale: I put both tyres on the grass and I fell, it was a very hard fall, I was going more than 200 km/h, I crushed my pinky finger once again and he (Gibernau) won the race Narrator: It's a crash that's painful both on the body and on the soul Vale: So from being 39 points behind me in the standings he returned to just 14 points from me. He basically re-opened the championship fight. I don't know if Brivio told you this but that night during dinner, there were just three races left of the season, that night I said to him (Davide Brivio) : "This year Gibernau is not gonna win again, because I'm gonna win them (the races) all"

from Sfide - Valentino Rossi una vita al limite

@bikefuckersoftheworldunite

[psb-of-the-day]

20th of March 2025, SONG OF THE DAY:

Pandemonium

Released in 2009 on the album 'Yes'

[tayfabe75]

2009: Before they were known as The 1975, Matty, George, Adam, and Ross released a song called 'Lost Boys' under the name Drive Like I Do. (source 1, 2, 3)

[bunnyboylyricbot]

mass confusion is all the new rage.

[mickie-maniaedits]

Happy Birthday Mickie Laree James!

[bbcmerlinvault]

[Article] “Head of State”

by May Seah for Channel News Asia, first published 28th February 2009

(the following is a copy/paste taken from LiveJournal user gealach-ros. Unfortunately the original article no longer exists and I am currently unable to find an archive. This interview with Anthony Head was done ahead of Merlin in Singapore.)

[LiveJournal source]

Head of state

By May Seah, TODAY | Posted: 28 February 2009

SINGAPORE: It’s the return of Giles -- but not as a Watcher this time. Everyone’s favourite father figure with a supernatural twist, Anthony Head of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fame, returns to television with the new series, Merlin. Much like Smallville, Merlin is a prequel to the well-loved Arthurian legends. Way before swords got pulled out of stones, the series imagines the wizard Merlin as a young man just starting to discover his extraordinary talent in the magic arts. Also starring young actors Colin Morgan (Dr Who) as Merlin and Bradley James (Lewis) as Arthur, Merlin is packed with CGI by the same visual effects team behind Gladiator.

It is an update of the story that Head says is powerful and compelling. “A close friend is absolutely incensed we’ve messed with the Arthurian legend. It’s been done and done again, with Sean Connery and Richard Gere in very strange clothes ... But it always falls short. You don’t feel fulfilled because you just know everything that’s going to happen.” This version, however, comes with a magical ingredient: Uncertainty. “You may know what’s going to happen down the road, but you don’t know how it’s going to get there,” said the married father of two. “Merlin gives it a whole new lease of life.” For his return to television, however, there’ll be no messing about with the powers of darkness. In Merlin, he plays the reigning King Uther (pronounced “oo-ther”), father of Arthur, who hates magic and seeks to ban its use in the kingdom of Camelot -- which, of course, is bad news for young Merlin. “Hopefully I’m not too similar to Uther. He’s not a very good father. He’s very authoritarian,” Head told Today breezily over the phone from London. “It’s amazing how many people who watch the show say, ‘You’re so mean.’ But he’s a well-rounded character. Everything he does is for the good of the kingdom as he knows how.” Evidently, playing Uther is a whole different ballgame from playing Giles to Sarah Michelle Gellar’s Buffy Summers. Perhaps, this reporter suggested, as a head of state, Uther is closer to his role as the prime minister in Little Britain. “He’s probably not a bad prime minister, but in terms of trying to deal with the advances of Sebastian, he’s slightly bemused,” the 55-year-old actor said, laughing, of his Little Britain character. Sebastian, played by the cult comedy series’ David Walliams, is the aide in love with the prime minister. “That’s what was interesting about that show: He had no stream of consciousness. He never remembered the last advances. It was an odd thing to play initially, but I fell into it.” To research his role in Merlin, Head watched old Arthurian movies, “including the classic Excalibur with John Boreman, which is very true to Le Morte d’Arthur”, the 15th-century book upon which most Arthurian legend is based. He watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail, too, of course. “I have been trying to get them to let us ride without horses!”

[smuttyandabsurd]

Of Incense and Chrysanthemums (Russia x China)

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia Pairing: China/Russia Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,458 Additional Tags: Fluff, Smut

Summary: Sometimes this light touching and kissing was enough to while away the night. Sometimes it led to more, and it would only take an invitation from any one of them.

Yao liked to look at Ivan's hands. When they are together, content to lie in comfortable silence, he would take one of Ivan's large hands in both of his and examine it, the calluses on his palm, the neatly clipped fingernails.

Ivan liked to play with Yao's hair. With Yao tracing little circles on one of his hands, he would pull loose the hair tie with the other and comb the dark tresses with his fingers, smoothing back the inky silk. When it pleased him to do so, he would hold Yao's hair to one side and kiss the back of his neck.

Sometimes this light touching and kissing was enough to while away the night. Sometimes it led to more, and it would only take an invitation from any one of them. This time it was Ivan who took the initiative, sliding his hands over Yao's slender shoulders as his kisses grew in hunger.

"Mm, wait," Yao hummed. He reached to undo the buttons of his shirt, but Ivan was quicker and easily popped them loose, and soon Yao was shedding the article, revealing pale golden skin, a canvas for Ivan's wandering lips.

He came upon the scar on Yao's back, an angry blemish on otherwise flawless skin. He traced it now with a finger, following the diagonal slash where once a sword cut into his Yao and marked him.

"It will heal aru," Yao said softly, meaning to reassure if the sight of it angered Ivan.

Ivan embraced him suddenly and buried his face into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry," he said thickly, his voice muffled. He was not the one who scarred him, but Yao understood.

Without a word, Yao twisted around and kissed Ivan fully on the lips. Lightly at first, then with growing intimacy, and Ivan returned it with a ferocity that made Yao gasp. He caught Yao's wrists and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and Yao opened his mouth to accept his dominance, moaning quietly, allowing to be pulled bodily so he straddled Ivan's lap.

"Oh!" he cried suddenly, breaking away. Heat rose to his cheeks; he could feel Ivan's arousal. But embarrassment gave way to timid pleasure as Ivan rubbed against him, coaxing from kiss-swollen lips sighs of wanton abandon.

"Yao..." Ivan murmured lovingly, eyes closed as he breathed in the scent of incense and chrysanthemum clinging to Yao's skin. He smiled at Yao and innocently asked, "May I make love to you?"

Yao could feel himself blushing again. "O-Of course, I mean, y-yes aru." Ivan gave a little giggle and Yao scowled. "Don't laugh aru!" he scolded even as he grew redder. Ivan rested his head on Yao's shoulder.

"I love you, Yao, I've missed you," he whispered, kissing the side of Yao's neck. Yao swallowed the knot in his throat.

"I know," he whispered back.

The bed creaked as Ivan shifted his weight, lowering Yao into the mattress and kissing every inch of skin his feeling lips came to find. Yao closed his eyes and gave in to the tingling pleasure, humming as Ivan kissed lower, past his collar bone to his milk-smooth chest, as he unbuttoned and shrugged off his own shirt. He paused to give Yao's dusky nipple a small lick, exciting a little whimpering groan, and clamped his mouth over it, padding the area with his tongue as he tweaked and pinched the other nipple, twisting and rolling it with his forefinger and thumb, and suckling and teething the one in his mouth until Yao cried out.

"Enough!" he panted breathlessly, hissing as Ivan licked it over before continuing his relentless quest downwards. Lower and lower he went, peeling the shirt from his back as he scattered light, lingering kisses over Yao's abdomen, but he did not slow until he reached Yao's cotton trouser.

Ivan could tell that Yao was hard. Anxiously he removed the last of Yao's clothing, baring his erection He looked at it for a moment, then his eyes roved over the whole of Yao's nakedness, enchantingly erotic in his willow-like grace and half-lidded charcoal eyes, his succulent lips parted and inviting.

"Yao..." he breathed, parting Yao's legs and kissing his inner thigh. He exhaled hot, moist breath that caressed over-sensitised flesh, the cloying sensation causing Yao to shiver.

"I-Ivan..." Yao mewled, pleading for more.

"Cry for me, Yao, I love to hear your voice," Ivan said dreamily. Yao felt the corners of his lips turning in a smile.

"Make me," he whispered seductively. Ivan seemed to light up at the challenge.

To Yao's surprise, instead of being subjected to more teasing as he had learned to expect, Ivan sat up and unbuckled his belt, eager to free his own erection. Yao stared blankly, watching Ivan massage his impressive length already dark and engorged with arousal, and hardly dared to breathe when Ivan loomed over him, propping himself up by an arm planted beside Yao on the pillow.

"Do you remember the first time we coupled?" he murmured in a husky tone. At the last word, Yao let out a startled gasp, having felt Ivan's tip press against his entrance.

"Y-Yes!" he hissed. He was not likely to forget.

Slowly Ivan began to ease himself into Yao, pressing against puckered resistance and hearing Yao's restrained whimpers. That gave way to a low cry as Ivan pushed in and, with a quiet grunt, buried himself fully into Yao.

"Unh... ahh... Ivan!" Yao cried his name dutifully, trembling violently. He felt his lips captured in a sloppy kiss, to distract him from the pain as Ivan snapped his hips forward, driving deeper into Yao who screamed into the kiss, the sound muffled, swallowed.

Yao couldn't tell how long the kiss lasted, but it lasted until he was comforted and could turn away with a hesitant nod. Ivan kissed the side of his mouth in lingering reassurance before thrusting in again, emitting a low groan from the feel of Yao tightening then releasing, adjusting to the intrusion.

"Mm... Ivan..." Yao moaned the name a mantra of his desires. "Aaah... Ivan... Ivan..."

"Yes, call for me," Ivan whispered, setting a rhythmic pace to his thrusts, and Yao obliged, calling his name, little moans and sighs tumbling, cascading from his lips.

Ivan pressed deep with each thrust, searching for the little spot that made Yao rise and cry even more beautifully, and he knew he found it when Yao clutched suddenly at his arms and dug in his fingernails.

"T-There!" he groaned, his supple legs wrapping around Ivan to cling better to him. "Yes... there... unh... Ivan, don't stop!"

He hid his face then, embarrassed, burying into Ivan's shoulder and trembling all over. Smiling, thrusting into that same spot, Ivan kissed the side of his temple and smoothed over his ebony hair, smelling the lingering scent of incense and chrysanthemums.

"P-Please!" Yao begged suddenly in a high-pitched whimper. Ivan could tell that he was close, painfully close.

Carefully, gently, he peeled Yao from him as one would a cat, settling him back in the mattress and lifting his legs so that it slung over his broad shoulders. Yao's gaze clouded over, his quavering lips pursed, locking the treacherous whine in his throat. Silently he pleaded again, his lust-filled eyes glinting with moisture.

Ivan wrapped his fingers around Yao's length and started pumping, gazing hazily at Yao whose back curved in a graceful arch, a hoarse cry tearing from his throat. He was a quivering bow, taut with heightened pleasure, slowly, slowly mounting to fulfil his need, and he was letting out the most beautiful voice, crying in passion, "Love!"

White ropey semen spurted and spilled over Ivan's slippery hand, like melted wax clinging to cream-coloured skin, as sticky as honey. Yao sank back, satiated, spent, but Ivan continued pumping him, all the while never breaking his new punishing pace as he neared his own climax.

Stilling, with a quiet groan, he came into Yao who moaned in soft pleasure, feeling the heat bathe and pool in his belly. Their lips met, drawn together without rhyme or reason, but melded in need, in burning, all-consuming hunger.

"Love..." Yao sighed as they parted, his tongue running over Ivan's cheek, at his own cum that clung there. Ivan nuzzled into the crook of Yao's neck, kissing softly at the tender flesh then nipping the skin, marking him, claiming him.

"Yao, I love you," he whispered passionately, holding tight to Yao, and breathed in the scent of incense and chrysanthemums, now mingling with the scent of their lovemaking.

"Yes," Yao said gently. "Yes, I know aru."

I love you too, Ivan, was what he wanted to say, but the words faltered and was left unsaid, his courage failed.

[alilvalearchive]

[mir-gallery]

Joan Mir competing in the Balearic minimoto championship

[tayfabe75]

"Fearless is a record I will look back on when I'm 85 and think, I'm really proud of that piece of music. It's my diary from the time I was 16 to 18. I'll never capture that in a better way."

March 25, 2009: Taylor describes Fearless as a diary from her late teen years. (source)

[bunnyboylyricbot]

i just want to be better than your head's only medicine.

[psb-of-the-day]

21st of February 2025, SONG OF THE DAY:

Gin and Jag

Released in 2009 on the single 'Love etc.'

[motownfiction]

yellow

Sadie got a lot of time with just Elenore when she was a little girl. She was the first baby, the only baby, the one who changed them all forever. But just as Elenore changed things forever, so did Sadie’s children when they were born. So did the rest of the world. Lucy, Will, and Elenore moved away, and Sadie and Daniel stayed put. And some time after Sadie’s time with her elder goddaughter dwindled, she realized she barely had a chance to know her younger goddaughter, too.

Emma was born a few years after Lucy and Will moved to New York. She’s the only baby who wasn’t born in Michigan–at least, she was, before there was Veronica; before there was Cal. There was no question Sadie would be her godmother. But when Elenore was born, and everyone was seventeen, that meant something. It meant constant contact, involvement, and love. They were never more than a few blocks away from one another, and there was always some big to pick up Elenore when she faltered. There was always someone big to make her feel heard, to make her feel important.

With Emma, it’s always been different. There’s the New York thing, for one. But for another, Sadie’s own daughter was born around the same time. It was easy to be close to Elenore when it didn’t feel like anyone else was vying for attention. If Sadie tried the same thing with Emma–had the same relationship–Rosemary would certainly be jealous.

But today’s a little different. Lucy and Will are in town, and Emma stayed the night at Sadie and Daniel’s place to hang out with Rosemary. It’s such a good thing they get along as well as they do, Sadie thinks, even if they’re not best friends. But in typical Rosemary fashion, she’s sleeping in. And in typical Emma fashion, she’s awake, sitting on the couch, trying not to make any noise. She’s wearing a yellow-and-white striped dress, like a little doll.

Sadie walks into the living room and jumps backward.

“Holy shit, Emma,” she says. “Have you been sitting there a long time?”

Emma shrugs.

“It depends,” she says. “How long are eons?”

Sadie snorts and sits down beside her.

“Too long,” she says.

Emma smiles a little. She moves like she’s going to get up, but then, she stays put. Good.

“I like your dress,” Sadie says.

“Thank you.”

“Is yellow usually your color?”

Emma blushes and fiddles with the hem.

“No,” she says. “I … I mean, my mom said I looked good in the dress when I tried it on, and I wouldn’t have gotten it if I didn’t like it. But it’s not … if I had just … I’d normally pick something in black or blue.”

“I thought so. So, why yellow?”

Emma’s blush deepens.

“OK, so there’s this guy, and he’s going to be a sophomore this year,” she says. “We had a class together when he was in eighth grade, and I’ve just … I don’t know, it’s so weird, but I still like him. We still see each other sometimes. He lives in our building.”

Sadie’s eyes light up. This may be the first time she’s ever heard Emma talk about a boy. She’s never even overheard anything when she walks past Rosemary and Emma in the house. It’s great. It makes Lucy’s daughter seem … human. The very thing Lucy was always afraid to be.

“It’s not like I just stare at him, either,” Emma says, defending herself against accusations Sadie never would have levied. “We … we talk sometimes. He remembers me. I make fun of him for the music he likes. I mean, if the Simple Plan was to whine out of your nose, then I guess it’s OK that he can’t be perfect.”

She bites her lip, and it’s adorable. Lucy’s daughter, the one who’s so like her in every way but her smile, has a weakness. Sadie wishes she could have known. She wishes she could have done anything to know better.

“I see,” Sadie says. “And his favorite color is yellow?”

Emma nods.

“I’ve never met anyone whose favorite color is yellow before,” she says. “I mean, I thought it was one of the expendable colors. When you open up a pack of Starburst, you know? What’s the flavor you least want to have?”

“Orange.”

Emma rolls her eyes.

“Well, for me, it’s yellow.”

She kicks her legs out in front of her and stares at her striped socks.

“I’m not trying to just impress a boy,” she says. “It’s just … a side effect.”

Sadie nods.

“I get it,” she says. “I wore green eyeshadow because I wanted to see if it looked cool. It was a bonus that Daniel liked it.”

“You get me.”

Sadie chuckles. Is that true? Does she get Emma? For fuck’s sake, she hopes so.

“So,” Sadie says, “what’s this boy’s name?”

Emma turns in her deepest, reddest blush yet.

“I don’t want to tell you that part yet,” she says. “Even though you don’t know him, the fact that this is his name … it’s embarrassing.”

And without Emma saying a word, Sadie knows exactly what this boy’s name must be. She leans back on the couch and listens to Emma talk about all the things she goes through at school, all the worries she has about starting the ninth grade in September, all her thoughts about not being young for long enough. With every word, Sadie is more impressed than she was before. Why doesn’t she talk to Emma more often? Why doesn’t Emma call? Why doesn’t Sadie try to call her?

At that moment, she resolves to call Emma once a week from now until she doesn’t want to hear from her distant godmother again (if that ever happens, which it won’t).

It’s the right thing to do.