#skills 1993

[hockeytown-gifs]

Gallant Goal  -  Wings vs Leafs  -  April 27, 1993

[professoruber]

Stephanie Brown cooking skills

Batgirls (2022-2023) #11

Okay so I'm still a novice in comics and generally slowly learning the details of history of these characters, and I'm also aware there's been like continuity reboot things over the years. But from what I understand, her backstory involves having a father who is both a deadbeat and a criminal who has done prison time. Her mother meanwhile is both a nurse (a rather time-demanding job) and also addicted to drugs.

Robin (1993-2009) #3

So maybe this is a bit of a nitpick... but Steph feels like someone who should be rather self-sufficient given her circumstances and at least know how to do some basic cooking to feed herself when her parents aren't available or unable (such as not screwing up cup noodles).

Just feels like the kind of backstory which would lead to someone learning life skills in one manner or another at a young age to make up for parental lacking.

Although to be fair, thing might not necessarily be that bad and even if it were then there's still ways for Steph to get food without having to cook it herself.

Just some thoughts anyway.

Anyone with more knowledge of Steph, or the current continuity, let me know if I'm just overthinking things or not?

[mrgriffiths]

☆THE ESCAPE☆

Thomas Ian Griffith as Terry McCain promotional stills for Excessive Force~93'

Check out my Twitter & Instagram!

[artemismatchalatte]

2023 Pinterest 50 Book Reading Challenge

A Book Published in the Year You were Born

Touched by Fire: Manic Depressive Illness and Artistic Temperament by Kay Redfield Jamison

[a-prawn]

also um hi new followers 😳 i’m delighted that my ancient-but-recently-inexplicably-reignited lust for q and picard to [HOLD HANDS] has brought you all here.  

[unity-care-official]

Unity Care is a foster youth organization providing housing options to youth emerging from foster care. The group was founded in 1993 and provides life skills, support, stable housing, caring connections,

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Michael Jackson featuring Slash - Give In to Me 1993

"Give In to Me" is a song by American singer-songwriter Michael Jackson, released as the seventh single from his eighth studio album, Dangerous (1991). Released in February 1993 - in Europe, Australia and New Zealand only - the song peaked at number one in New Zealand for four consecutive weeks and at number two on the UK Singles Chart. The track was written and produced by Jackson and Bill Bottrell, and features Guns N' Roses guitarist Slash. Stylistically, "Give In to Me" is a hard rock and heavy metal ballad.

The music video features Jackson performing the song on stage at an indoor rock concert with ex Living Colour bassist Muzz Skillings, Guns N' Roses guitarists Slash and Gilby Clarke, as well as the band's touring keyboardist Teddy Andreadis and legendary session drummer Tony Thompson. It was shot on June 25, 1992, in Munich, Germany, just two days before the opening concert of the Dangerous World Tour.

The album Dangerous debuted at number one on the US Billboard Top Pop Albums chart and in thirteen other countries, selling 5 million copies worldwide in its first week and went on to be the best-selling album worldwide of 1992. By 1994 Dangerous had sold 25 million copies worldwide. It was certified 8× Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) in August 2018.

"Give In to Me" received a total of 77,1% yes votes! Previous Michael Jackson polls: #45 "Will You Be There", #114 "Why", #220 "Blame It on the Boogie". Previous polls featuring Slash: #159 "I'm Just Ken".

[montereybayaquarium]

✨One outstanding oystercatcher✨

Today, we want to take a moment to appreciate one of our black oystercatchers who celebrated her 30th bird-day this year!

Born in 1993 on Oregon's rugged coast, this black oystercatcher triumphed over adversity. She was rescued at four days old with a wounded wing. Deemed non-releasable due to her young age and lack of survival skills, she embarked on a unique journey, spending time in Florida and Alaska before finding her permanent home with us 21 years ago.

This oystercatcher is quite the character— known for her love of clams and preference for personal space. We’ve enjoyed getting to know her over the years. Come check her out in the Sandy Shore & Aviary exhibit and witness her clam-cracking craftsmanship firsthand.

[pargolettasworld]

So, because I am incurably, morbidly curious, I watched Jessie Gender's four-hour-and-seventeen-minute-long video on . . . well, the title suggests "Zionism, Antisemitism, and the Left." To her credit, Gender does touch on all three of these topics, though not with the same degree of skill, graciousness, or understanding of the topics at hand. I've just had a very nice dinner, and I'm feeling generous, so let's see how this video stacks up. Strap in. This is going to get long.

I should admit right off the bat that I'm only a casual, occasional watcher of Jessie Gender. I'm not a deep fan, and I'm sure there is Jessie Gender Lore™ out there that I'm not aware of, but I think I've seen enough of her videos to get a general sense of her house style. This video hits a lot of the hallmarks of her style. She speaks very fast and very passionately, occasionally trips over her own words (something that I've done many a time, so I really do feel that), and is inordinately fond of nominalizations. She's especially fond of the word "ostracization," for some reason, which drives me nuts because "ostracism" is right there. So, in style, it appears to hew to the Jessie Gender House Style pretty well.

On to the video itself. The first thing I will observe about it is that it is in every possible way a meeting that could have been an email. There was no need for this to be the same length as the Extended Edition of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003). There's a lot of padding, significant digressions, and a certain degree of repetition. It's easy to forget the beginning of the video by the time you're an hour into the thing.

The major question that hangs over this opus is: Why, and for whom, was it made? I'm honestly not sure who the intended audience for this thing is, nor why Gender felt that she had to make it. She alludes in the first half hour to feeling like she's lost the trust and support of some of her Jewish fans/friends/acquaintances/Patreon patrons, and she chalks it up to a previous video that she made (which I have not seen, and which I am not inclined to seek out). But neither the structure nor the thesis nor the conclusion of the video seem like they would win back any of these folks.

I don't think that Jewish viewers are her intended audience -- certainly not with the way she talks about Jews throughout the video. I'm also having a hard time believing that really committed leftists are her audience, either, since I don't think she's really saying much that leftists haven't already heard, or offering new perspectives on her topic(s). And anyone who has made it this far into the year of 5784 and is still undecided about the contemporary iteration of The Jewish Question is probably not going to be interested in sitting through nearly four and a half hours of relentless lecture. So I'm still left wondering why, and for whom, did Jessie Gender make this video?

Gender assures us, her viewers, of several things that are meant to be reassuring. She's done lots and lots of research, for one thing. And she's asked some-of-her-best-friends-who-are-Jewish to be sensitivity readers. We're given to understand that we are hearing the nitpicked, edited, and polished version of the script. I'd hate to see what the first draft looked like . . .

She also tells us that there are going to be lots of Foreign Words And Names, and that she and her mouth-hole have A Hard Time pronouncing Foreign Words And Names. Her loyal staff have made her a pronunciation guide -- which appears to have been used perhaps as a drinks coaster, since there are some howlers here. The Jews originating from the MENA regions are the "Misrai" (Mizrahi) Jews, the first Prime Minister of Israel was "David Ben-Gron" (David Ben-Gurion), the Revisionist Zionist leader was "Zeeeeeeeeev Zarbinsky" (Ze'ev Jabotinsky), and the Palestinian uprisings of 1987 - 1993 and 2000 - 2005 go by the name "Infitada" (Intifada).

You know that phrase "If white people can learn to say Tchaikovsky and Schwarzenegger, they can learn to say [your name from an African or Asian language]?" I agree completely with the conclusion, but I question the premise. Jessie Gender makes me question the premise harder. If she had any real interest in the topic, she would have practiced those names, but I don't think she does, so she didn't.

Moving on to the actual content of the video. It's . . . weird. Jessie Gender begins the video believing that Zionism is an evil force for colonialism, White supremacy, oppression, and genocide. She ends the video believing that Zionism is an evil force for colonialism, White supremacy, oppression, and genocide. But along the way, she's confronted with quite a lot of inconvenient facts that threaten to complicate this perspective.

Gender devotes roughly two hours and fifteen minutes of her video, a smidge over half of the runtime, on three segments that offer a history of Zionism, the iterations of Zionism as a political ideology, and what she calls "Zionism as emotion," which is a condescending way to refer to the importance of Zionism to Jews. I'd guess that her research for these segments might have surprised her. It turns out, per Jessie Gender, that there is both a reason behind and a context for nineteenth-century Zionism, quite a lot of logic behind why the Jews wanted to go to Israel, and ample evidence that a majority of Jews have some kind of stake in both Israel and some variation of Zionism.

The reason I think that this research might have surprised her is that she ends each of these segments with a small diatribe about the evil colonialist, capitalist, oppressive, genocidal force that is Zionism, even as the segments suggest nuance, logic, and reason behind the philosophy. We can't have that on a good lefty video, though, can we? The more Gender confronts evidence that there is more to Zionism than meets her eyes, the more she doubles down, digs in her heels, and refuses to accept even the barest shreds of non-negativity about Zionism. Every now and then, she comes up with a lovely sentence or two that shows some understanding of a Jewish perspective on the world, but then furiously backpedals -- we mustn't forget that this Jewish perspective of oppression, mass murder, and international blame has only led to the Evil Of Zionism, after all.

What's really fascinating is how hard she works to avoid blaming actual Jews for all of this evil. I think she's doing this with the best of intentions. A for effort. C for effect. She wants to make a distinction between "Zionism" and "Judaism," in the sense of "Zionism does not equate to Judaism, so being antisemitic to Judaism because you hate Zionism is bad." She tries so hard that she loses sight of the actual people involved. There are a lot of places where she talks about "Judaism" where what she actually means is "the Jews." Or, as she calls us, "Jewish people." Which isn't bad, and it isn't really wrong, but it doesn't quite communicate the sense of Am Yisrael that is at the heart of Zionism.

In fact, she's so desperate to separate Zionism from Jewish people that she starts to talk about it almost as an individual character in the story, with agency, desires, wishes, and goals of its own, totally disconnected from the people who created it. Zionism demands the genocide of Palestinians, Zionism needs colonialism, Zionism has a nice lunch date with neoliberalism and spends the afternoon browsing department stores with capitalism. In effect, Zionism becomes the dragon, and Gender really wishes that the passive, easily-led Jewish people would unite behind some White Knight and slay the dragon so everyone could be happy and free and leftist. Despite the two hours she spent on her deep dive into the history and meaning of Zionism, she cannot fathom why the Jewish people don't just do this.

I said earlier that quite a lot of this video consists of padding. Gender identifies herself as a lefty anarchist, opposed to nation-states, capitalism, neoliberalism, the United States, the British Empire, Israel, Joe Biden, "Ka-MAH-la" Harris, transphobia in Western societies . . . the usual suspects. Frequently, especially in the back half of the video, she'll wander off into long fantasias about the crimes against liberty perpetrated by the West at large, as well as their character Capitalism, and then remember that this is supposed to be a video about Zionism, and then finish with the equivalent of "Peter Rabbit did sort of that kind of thing, too."

One of the alleged purposes of this video is to discuss Antisemitism On The Left, but Gender . . . pretty much elides doing that. She gets close a couple of times, and she does grudgingly admit that some leftists coming from some branches of leftism might sometimes say things that might be antisemitic, and that's Bad, and it makes Jewish people feel Unsafe and Not Inclined To Agree With Leftists that The Dragon Known As Zionism Must Be Slain Heroically. But don't stress about it. The important thing is that Israel Must Stop Its Genocide and Palestinians Should Have Self-Determination (which is only withheld from them by Israel -- excuse me, by Zionism -- and certainly not by those eminently-justified-if-a-little-uncouth plucky fighters, Hamas.

There are quite a lot of lengthy quotes from Sources, read by guest stars, which is a nice touch to break up the video. The vast majority of these Sources -- especially the ones in the "history of Zionism" segment -- are not actually written by Zionists. You get a lot of academic pontificating about the failures, shortcomings, and nefarious activities of Zionism, but you hear almost nothing from actual Zionists, especially contemporary Zionists. This does not look nearly as good or as well-researched as it's meant to look.

So what do we get in the end, after four hours and seventeen minutes of watching this? Honestly . . . not much. Gender gives enough background on the history of Zionism, antisemitism, and Jewish attitudes toward Israel that hardcore leftists watching will be more annoyed than convinced. She condescends to both Jews and Arabs, mentioning repeatedly that she, as a White Gentile, really doesn't have any business butting in on these complex questions -- but that's not going to stop her from butting in like the lefty shiksa she is! She's too mealy-mouthed to come right out and say anything blatantly antisemitic, but disdain for Jewish concepts of homeland, belonging, origin, and self-determination pervade the whole thing.

I don't think that Jessie Gender is an idiot -- she seems to be pretty smart, and has both a firm sense of her own political philosophy and the stick-to-it-ive-ness to do far more research into things like the development of Zionism and the history of antisemitism than one might expect. But the video really is, to bring up a playwright from the hated West, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

[bakuettes]

Catch My Drift 🏁 chapter 1

Street racer!bakugo x Street racer!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing, douche bakugo, slight misogyny, alcohol consumption, drug use, illegal activities etc

Kanjozoku; The term Kanjozoku is derived from the combination of the words “kanjo” (meaning ring) and “zoku” (meaning group).

Kanjozoku primarily consists of young car enthusiasts in cities like Osaka and Tokyo who have a passion for speed and a desire to showcase their driving skills.

Osaka was the place to be. Not where tourists go to take pictures and try japanese cuisine, maybe pick up a few souvenirs from the large amount of little gift shops that littered the streets but where a community of young adults with the passion for racing congregate. The night was still young, the sounds of tires screeching against the cold pavement and engines roaring was heard over the heavy base of 2000s club music. Girls dressed in scandalous outfits mingling with the guys posted up next to their pimped out rides. You could practically feel the vibrations of the noise in your head.

Three cars lined up with the drivers sitting on the hoods of their prized possession. A bright orange 1993 Mazda RX-7 FD on the far left. The car’s color was comparable to an orange or maybe even the warm sunsets that would settle over japan. The next car over was a 1993 Toyota Supra Turbo Mark IV. The bright colorful lights that surrounded the meet reflected beautifully off the cars mustard yellow chrome. The third and final car was a looker. Silver 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 with royal blue detailing along the sides and on the hood. A royal blue flexivity rear wing with matching led lights underneath the body.

It was Bakugo’s baby. Spent years modifying and perfecting it. He was a skilled driver sure but having a car like his? Most would be intimidated to challenge him. “Yo Mina, let’s get this race going!” the orange mazda driver shouted. it was hard to find anyone in this crowd but said woman emerged from the sidelines with a confused look on her face. “Woah woah, wait a second.” She looked around the lot, once overing the lined up vehicles. “where’s your fourth at? i’m counting only three.” mina crossed her arms, unimpressed. the yellow toyota driver spoke up first “it was supposed to be joaquin but he caught the grave yard shift man.”

once you were scheduled to race it was a hassle to find new drivers, the time and place was set in stone. it wasnt that often when scheduled racers were a no show but then again many get caught racing outside of meets or their car needed more time to be repaired. It was a waste of mina’s time. she was the flag girl, not their fucking coordinator. “Na, y’all either find a fourth or you don’t race. How’s that sound? Times ticking boys.”

By standers erupted in shouts of anger and disappointment. they wanted to see a race, most of them drove well over an hour to be here! gas wasn’t cheap and neither was Minas time. Hearing the crowds complaining mina sighed and pitched them an idea. “Alright! i hear you guys, relax. How about this, why don’t i find y’all a driver and we settle this now?” bakugo smirked, nodding in agreement. he never said much but he also never needed to. his aura spoke volumes. “bring ‘em on.” he wasn’t nervous, he knew his talents and was confident. resting the palms of his hands on the hood of his car, he tilted his head towards the other racers, waiting to see hear their answers. “Anyone i want?” mina questioned with a grin that would give the cheshire cat a run for his money. “anybody baby!” orange jululis shouted, raising his arms to the side. cocky bastard. mina rolled her eyes and turned away from the drivers, pulling out her phone from her bra. there was a whole list of people she could call but there was only one person she knew who could end this race quickly.

she could hear the static from the other end of the phone. “y/n, you wanna race tonight?” it was quite for a moment before you spoke in to the speaker “i’m always down, send me your lo.” your voice was smooth like silk but sultry like a vixen. it sounded like you’ve been up for a while so mina didn’t feel bad for calling you so late. she knew you came alive in the night anyway. your energetic friend squealed before gathering herself together. “you got 5 minutes hun!” and then the line went dead.

it never took much convincing to get you out. when mina called you it was 12:15 am, meaning you only had exactly 5 minutes to get there. the meet lot was about 20 minutes out. you arrived there in 4, only a minute left to spare. the sound of you engine had heads turning (a certain blonde as well) as you slowly pulled through the crowd, careful not to hit party-goers. the hot pink body of your 2000 Honda S2000 was hard to miss. everyone knew who was inside and that fact alone made them scream louder. you never really cared too much though, it wasn’t like you had vocals like mariah carey. you didn’t have the ability to move like michael jackson. you were just a damn good racer and that was enough for them apparently.

all three racers turned their heads in the direction of the obnoxiously loud honda, tensing up at the sight. well, all except for one of course. bakugo had no idea why everyone was so fucking hyped. who was that? and why’s everyone acting like they’ve never seen a pink car?? “Racers!” mina yelled excitedly “here’s your fourth!”. your black stiletto boots were the first thing he saw exit the car. then it was a black leather hat. he glanced over at the others to study their reactions and they all had excitement swirling in their eyes. maybe even a hint of nervousness? bakugo didn’t have time to be sure because before he knew it, you were leaning back against the hood of your car crossing one leg over the other. “oh shit, it’s y/n.” you weren’t new to this, you were true to this. the air was crisp and cold, you probably should’ve brought a jacket because this top (if it could even be considered one) with this miniskirt wasn’t doing you no type of favors.

from the corner of your eye you could see a blonde headed man with spikey hair almost looking annoyed as he walked over to mina who was standing in the middle of the road. “no offense but i’m not racing a damn girl. you never said it would be a girl.” you rolled your eyes, who the hell does he think he is? a race is a race. why did it matter who was behind the wheel? you best friend looks beyond over this shit, she’s been annoyed her this whole night and she’s about to lose her patience. “you said anyone i wanted, i wanted her! stand next to your car before nobody races.”

“you scared spikes?” he turned his head to the side, watching you push yourself off the car and strut to the middle where he and mina stood. he sized you up, shamelessly checking you out. “what the hell did you jus call me?” he wasn’t scared. why would bakugo be scared of some princess nobody? “can you even drive with those heels on?” your outfit was impractical he thought. a miniskirt that just barely covered the expanse of your ass (not that he really minded) and what looks like a triangle bikini top. if you were to bend over then— no. now’s not the time to thirst over you. even if he did think you were hot.

“i’m just askin.. why wouldn’t you wanna race me if you weren’t scared?” you’ve dealt with his type before, cocky, thinks they’re better than everyone and so on. he’s got sharp red eyes with a piercing gaze. you let your eyes trail away from his face down to the hardened muscles on his chest. clearly well built and his black tshirt was doing nothing to hide it. “man whatever,” your eyes moved back to his hearing the sound of his voice. “i’m not doin this, find somebody else.” he wasn’t scared, he just felt that he could be using this time to race against someone on his level. why’s it that the egotistical men somehow always find you? you would’ve just let him go but you hated the feeling of being looked down on. he’s no better than you, he doesn’t even know what you have to offer. do you did what you do best, you uped the ante.

“15 grand.” you raised your voice a bit. silence fell over the crowd. “i’ll give you 15 grand if you agree to race tonight and win, that applies to the other racers too” you say to the other two drivers still next to their cars. that made him stop dead in his tracks. were you insane? you’re acting like that’s pocket money. fuck, he doesn’t know if he should do it. he didn’t need the money, but his sister did. he tries to help his mother out the best he can, this would cover at least two months worth of bills. gritting his teeth he turns around starting directly at you “don’t start to regret this when you lose ma.” got ‘em, you thought with shit eating smirk.

you walked past him, shoulder checking the man who’s name you still don’t know. he looked at you, staring at your ass as your skirt rode up with every step you took. you must’ve felt bakugo’s stare because your hands grab them hem of the denim and pull it down, throwing him a flirty smile over your shoulder. the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. he quickly looks to the side, licking his lips attempting to play it off as if the whole meet did see the interaction. all the racers start getting into there respective cars, starting them up. mina struts to the middle of the street once again only this time with a checkered flag. her brown skin was glowing, the lights reflecting off the body glitter she wore.

“Racers!”

mina exudes confidence. you hand your left hand on the wheel, the other hand tightly gripping on to the gear shift. foot tapping on the gas a bit. you were high off adrenaline, you lived for moments like these.

“Start your engines..”

bakugo couldn’t help but stare at you. the look in your eyes. ‘s like you got off on this, the wicked smile on your lips doing nothing to make him think otherwise. he wasn’t fazed though, he had this in the bag. maybe even after he wins he could take you out but that was something he’d ask later, he needs to focus. the flag drops.

“GO!”.

and you were gone.

𝐀/𝐍!!: okay why was this way harder than i thought? 😭 please bare with me ik im not that advanced in writing. i also don’t know a lot about cars but i research by chapter. lmk how u like it so far and i promise to produce better work as time goes on!

[vestaignis]

Заброшенная больница судорабочих в Рыбинске.

Ансамбль деревянных зданий расположен на левом берегу Волги на Бурлацкой улице, и скромно стоит в тени лип. С дороги хорошо виден главный корпус с надписью «Больница». Улица не случайно называется Бурлацкая, а на набережной Рыбинска стоит памятник бурлаку. Когда-то Рыбинск был негласной столицей бурлаков, профессии тяжелой и теперь давно забытой. Каждый год тысячи бурлаков стекались в город в дореволюционные годы.

Больница появилась в 1880 году. Первый вклад сделал купец А.Ф. Фролов, отдав под больницу свою землю, за ним и другие горожане пожертвовали деньги на строительство лечебницы. Вскоре были построены первые здания. Весь ансамбль больницы построен в неорусском стиле. Исполнение вызывает уважение мастерством обращения с деревом. Обшивка доской выполнена поперек, вдоль и ёлочкой, красив деревянный, резной на просвет фриз, изящная обналичка, детали выноса крыши, сохранилась мелкая расстекловка окон, филенчатые двери.Вообще, удивительно, что все эти деревянные постройки сохранились до сих пор и на территории больницы не было не одного пожара.

Врачи здесь принимали больных только во время навигации, лечение было бесплатным.Бурлаки и другой рабочий люд могли получить медицинскую помощь, постель, еду и приличное одеяние. Профиль больница сохранила и в советские времена. Сюда обращались речники и жители левого берега Волги. В 90-е жизнь в больнице начала угасать. Закрылся хирургический корпус, уехали врачи. Двери пустующих зданий заколотили, охранять ветшающие памятники культурного наследия оставили старенького сторожа.В 1993 году все здания больницы судорабочих были признаны выявленными памятниками культурного наследия.

Следить за сохранностью имущества сейчас некому, всё активно разрушается и приходит в упадок.Здания производят удручающее впечатление. Стекла в окнах разбиты, крыши сломаны, двери выбиты. В помещениях разбросаны документы. Памятник культуры, построенный рыбинцами, пережил падение империи и 70 лет советской власти. Теперь старой больнице самой нужна забота и лечение, иначе уникальный памятник исчезнет навсегда.

An abandoned hospital for ship workers in Rybinsk.

The ensemble of wooden buildings is located on the left bank of the Volga on Burlatskaya Street, and stands modestly in the shade of lime trees. The main building with the inscription "Hospital" is clearly visible from the road. It is no coincidence that the street is called Burlatskaya, and there is a monument to a boatman on the Rybinsk embankment. Once Rybinsk was the unspoken capital of boatmen, a difficult profession and now long forgotten. Every year thousands of boatmen flocked to the city in the pre-revolutionary years.

The hospital appeared in 1880. The first contribution was made by the merchant A.F. Frolov, who gave his land for the hospital, followed by other townspeople who donated money for the construction of the hospital. Soon the first buildings were built. The entire ensemble of the hospital is built in the neo-Russian style. The execution is respected by the skill of handling wood. The board covering is made across, along and with a herringbone pattern, a beautiful wooden frieze carved into the lumen, elegant cashing, details of the roof removal, small glazing of windows, paneled doors have been preserved.In general, it is surprising that all these wooden buildings have survived to this day and there has not been more than one fire on the territory of the hospital.

Doctors here took patients only during navigation, treatment was free.Boatmen and other working people could receive medical care, a bed, food and decent clothing. The hospital maintained its profile even in Soviet times. Rivermen and residents of the left bank of the Volga applied here. In the 90s, life in the hospital began to fade. The surgical building was closed, the doctors left. The doors of empty buildings were boarded up, and an old watchman was left to guard the dilapidated monuments of cultural heritage.In 1993, all the buildings of the Shipbuilders Hospital were recognized as identified cultural heritage monuments.

There is no one to monitor the safety of property now, everything is actively being destroyed and falling into disrepair.The buildings make a depressing impression. The glass in the windows is broken, the roofs are broken, the doors are knocked out. Documents are scattered in the rooms. The cultural monument built by the Rybintsy survived the fall of the empire and 70 years of Soviet rule. Now the old hospital itself needs care and treatment, otherwise the unique monument will disappear forever.

Источник:://rblogger.ru/2015/12/05/bolnitsa-v-ryibinske/,/vk.com/ wall-24572207_3398,//dzen.ru/a/ YL4FQxs_XCImk2Gs ,/dzen.ru /a/ X8ovW3iO2nXHM3rn.

[freetheshit-outofyou]

December 27, 2015, Harlem Globetrotter Meadowlark G. Lemon died at 83.

Meadowlark George Lemon III was born in Wilmington, North Carolina, on April 25, 1932. He discovered the Harlem Globetrotters at 11 years old while watching a newsreel at the local theater. He was determined to one day make the team. Lemon didn’t have enough money to buy basketball equipment, so he made his own. He made the Basketball hoop out of an onion sack and a coat hanger and used an empty carnation milk can as his ball. According to Lemon, he made his first shot, a two-pointer.

He continued to play basketball in high school. Realizing the fierce competition, he logged long hours on the court to strengthen his skills. He briefly attended Florida Agriculture and Mechanical University, a historically black university in Tallahassee, Florida. He was drafted into the Army in 1952. He completed basic training at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, before serving two years in Salzburg, Germany.

While in Germany, Lemon played on an Army base’s basketball team, averaging 55 points a game. He was discharged in 1954. He then played for the Kansas City All-Stars for a year before joining the Harlem Globetrotters. Lemon played for 23 consecutive years with the Harlem Globetrotters and earned the name “Clown Prince of Basketball.” In the 1980s, he started his comedic basketball team “Meadowlark Lemon’s Bucketeers,” and then he established “The Shooting Stars” before founding “Meadowlark Lemon’s Harlem All-Stars.” Lemon returned to the Harlem Globetrotters in 1993 for a 50-game season.

In 1986, Lemon became an ordained minister. In 1989, he founded “Camp Meadowlark,” a camp designed to improve young people’s basketball skills while teaching them the importance of education and staying healthy. He earned his Doctor of Divinity in 1998. In 2003, Lemon was inducted into the NBA Basketball Hall of Fame.

Photo: Meadowlark Lemon. Courtesy of Veterans Affairs

[farshootergotme]

I cannot believe I'm saying this but I just argued with someone who was insisting that Dick is abusive and cruel to his family and friends while excusing Jason's actions as "the pit did it". Please give me sweet/cute moments between Dick and his friends/family, whether that's just him listening (like the time he dropped everything so Tim could vent to him) or helping out etc

You ask and I'll deliver!

Dick, Bruce & Alfred

Alfred expressing his gratitude to Dick for being there after Bruce died: Batman #689

Dick and Alfred with an arm wrapped around each other: Detective Comics #838

Dick and Alfred grieving Bruce together: Nightwing (1996) #153

Alfred welcomes Dick: Nightwing (1996) #101

Dick tells Alfred he misses him: Missing (1996) #126

Alfred and Dick hugging: Gotham Knights #25

Dick hugs Alfred: Titans Hunt #2

Dick tells Bruce that if he wants him to wear the cowl again, he will: Batman and Robin (2011) #34

Dick helps Bruce save Damian in the simulation: Batman and Robin (2011) #23

Dick saves Bruce and they hug: Robin and Batman #3

Dick hugging Bruce after he and the league are saved: JLA (1997) #75

Dick calls Bruce “dad”: Nightwing (2016) #100

Dick tells Bruce he'd die for him: Robin (1993) #13

Dick asking Bruce if he wants to talk: Year One: Batman/Scarecrow #1

Jason & Dick

Dick gives Jason his old costume and his phone number in case he needs to talk: Batman #416

Dick catches Jason before he falls off a train: Nightwing (1996) #106

Dick calls Jason “little wing” while they work together: Nightwing (1996) #106

Dick tells Jason about Bruce firing him and apologizes for Bruce about him using Dick to make Jason feel small: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick hanging out with Robin!Jason: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick tells Jason they're brothers: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick tells Jason he's proud he's put the guns away: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Nightwing calls Red Hood “Robin” to calm him down: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Parallel to the past: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick promises Jason he'll talk with Bruce so Jason doesn't get in trouble after helping the Teen Titans in a mission: The New Teen Titans v2 #31

Dick offers Jason help: Batman and Robin (2009) #6

Cass & Dick

Dick offering Cass to talk: Batman: Family v2 #7

Dick and Cass apologize to each other: Batman and the Outsiders v2 #14

Dick and Cass cooking together: Nightwing (2016) #106

Dick and Cass working together to find the truth about Bruce murderer’s allegations: Batman: Bruce Wayne – Fugitive

Dick and Cass race each other: Batman – Legends of the Dark Knight #184

Cass describes in her journal how Dick told her about Cinderella and made her laugh: Batgirl (2000) #58

Dick stops Jason from attacking Cass: Batman & Robin Eternal #3

Tim & Dick

Blindfolded bonding: Nightwing (1996) #25

Dick hugging Tim and kissing the top of his head: Nightwing (1996) #139

Dick inviting Tim on a mission: Nightwing (1996) #142

Dick makes Tim laugh: Robin (1993) #71

Dick cooking for Tim: Batman #512

Dick complimenting Tim's skills: Robin 80 Years of the Boy Wonder The Deluxe Edition

Dick complimenting Tim's skills 2.0: Nightwing (1996) #6

Tim tells Dick that he will always be there for him: Red Robin (2009) #12

Dick changes his plans to stay and listen to what Tim needs to talk about: Robin (1993) #156

Dick and Tim hanging out: Secret Origins 80 Page Giant

Dick calls Tim his little brother: Secret Origins 80 Page Giant

Damian & Dick

Dick and Damian hugging when they find out the other is alive: Grayson #12

Dick hugs Damian relieved that he's okay: Nightwing (2016) #20

Dick assures Damian they'll find Bruce: Nightwing (2016) #29

Damian admits to have missed Dick: Nightwing (2016) #20

“We are still the greatest”: Nightwing (2016) #20

Dick comforting Damian as he cries: Batman v3 #33

Damian thanking Dick for being there: Batman v3 #34

Batman!Dick saves Damian's life and praises his work: Batman and Robin (2009) #3

Damian tells Dick he is his favorite partner: Batman Incorporated v2 #8

Dick and Alfred acknowledge Damian's efforts to be better: Batman and Robin (2009) #22

Damian throws up and Batman!Dick comforts him: Batman - Streets of Gotham #7

Dick calls Damian his Robin: Robin (2021) #5

Damian says he doesn't need the Titans because he already has a friend in Gotham (Dick): Teen Titans v3 #92

The (Teen) Titans & Dick

Wally and Dick hugging: Nightwing 1996 #141

Wally asks Dick for help to find Linda: The Flash v2 #214

Donna and Dick hugging: Titans Secret Files #2

Dick listens to Garth's problems: Titans v2 #15

Dick tells Donna that he's there if there's anything she wants to talk about: The New Teen Titans #14

Dick helps Roy find Lian and bring her home with him: Action Comics #618

Dick kissing Donna’s forehead: The Titans (1999) #28

Titans pillow fight: The New Teen Titans v2 #32

Dick and Gar talk about Vic: The New Teen Titans v2 #48

Steel and Gar talking about Dick: Titans (2016) #27

Nightwing argues with Batman to save Cyborg: JLA/Titans #2

Roy opens up to Dick and Dick tells Roy he'd trust him with his life: Outsiders (2003) #11

“Who wouldn't fall in love with that wouldn't fall in love with that strength and that smile?” – Donna Troy: DC special - The Return of Donna Troy #2

Dick calls the Titans his ‘safety net’: Nightwing Secret Files and Origins

Wally tries to distance himself from his loved ones but goes see Dick when his statue won't stay turned away: The Flash v6 #9

Others

Dick comforts Jon: Nightwing (2016) #89

Kara thanks Dick for being a friend and brother to her: Justice League of America v2 #60

Superman calls Dick the multiversal constant for being confident, kind and cool in every universe he's been: Nightwing (2016) #9

Friends: Nightwing (2016) #9

Some heroes help Dick move out and Dick thanks them for their assistance: Nightwing #153

Dick Grayson, the most trusted man next to Superman: The Brave and the Bold v3 #15

Dick's neighbors talking about him: Nightwing (1996) #87

Dick gets powers for two hours and spends time with Superman: Nightwing (2016) #104

Jim tells Dick his cops prefer him to Bruce: Batman and Robin (2009) #13

Nightwing leading the Titans: Teen Titans (2003) #23

Dick relates to Conner and tells him he has to start trusting himself as Dick trusts him: Teen Titans (2003) #33

“You know, everyone's right about you. You totally rule.”: Teen Titans (2003) #33

Kyle's first impression of Dick: Green Lantern (1990) #81

Oh man! This is awful! How can Dick be this abusive? Oh, wait! he isn't.

Well, sorry it took me a bit, but I hope this helps!

There's more characters' moments I wanted to add but it was taking me too long so I decided to leave it as it is.

[nerdygaymormon]

President Spencer W. Kimball received a revelation to approve the sealing of an MTF trans woman to her husband in the Washington DC Temple in 1980. The sealing was performed by a Elder Hugh W. Pinnock of the Seventy.

Dr. Gregory Prince wrote about it on the blog By Common Consent (BCC) in Nov 2015.

In January 2016, a blogger wrote about the BCC post. In the comments section, a person identifying as Ann wrote to say that she is the person who was sealed. She provides some detail, including the date of the sealing and the name of the Seventy who performed the marriage.

Unfortunately, I don't know an official Church source for this, so I don't know how much it will matter to your family.

It’s important to understand that Dr. Prince is credible because it’s his eye-witness account that we have about a trans woman being sealed to a man in the temple.

Dr. Gregory Prince has a PhD and his career was in the prevention and treatment of pediatric infectious diseases. 

He took the research skills in the medical field, combined it with his interest in history, and wrote several books on religious history and theology:

Having Authority: The Origins and Development of Priesthood During the Ministry of Joseph Smith (1993) 

Power from On High: The Development of Mormon Priesthood (1995)

David O. McKay and the Rise of Modern Mormonism (2005) 

Leonard Arrington and the Writing of Mormon History (2016)

Gay Rights and the Mormon Church: Intended Actions, Unintended Consequences (2019) 

He was also interviewed as part of the 2007 PBS documentary The Mormons

————————————————

This woman was sealed to her husband. So either she's gonna be a woman in the eternities, or if not then this is a same-sex sealing. It's an interesting example of how we could expand our use of the sealing power if we chose to

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x reader

CHAPTER NINE (see full series list here)

1993

You sip your tea, actually up in time for breakfast for once. Because of the night-time nature of your subject, you tend to go to bed later than the rest of the school and wake up later. It means you're especially close to the kitchen's house elves, as they often prepare you breakfast for when you eventually do get up. Especially Bitsy. You've taken to buying her film for her camera every Christmas, but it doesn't last long as she takes pictures of everything, including you.

"You know, I had the strangest dream last night," you say to Remus beside you.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm, I was in a sort of muggle circus tent, right? But it was on fire. And there was this guy there, wearing like a weird three-foot tall wizard's hat that morphed into this odd kind of wig afterwards," you recall. "And then, I kinda thought, 'hey, maybe I should use my wand to put out this fire' but instead of putting it out I transported it to Madam Puddifoot's."

Remus blinks at you, and you try and stop the smile from appearing on your face.

"You know what? That is a strange dream," he responds, shaking his head and you laugh.

"I know! It was so weird."

"Oh, I actually read something about dreams recently," Remus says thoughtfully. "Apparently they reflect things going on in your life."

You snort. "What, my desire to set Madam Puddifoot's on fire? I mean, I suppose it's not wrong..."

There's loud noise at the Gryffindor table, even students from other houses going over to it. You lean your head to the side to see Harry sitting at the table, grinning proudly at his Firebolt. You chuckle, looking down the table at Professor McGonagall.

"He got his broom back, so?" You say and she nods.

"Yes, couldn't find anything wrong with it, thankfully. And I must say, never have I seen a student so happy with something I have told him," she remarks and you grin.

"A Gryffindor win this year, perhaps?"

"Oh, I do hope so."

"You would only be so lucky," Snape says snidely beside her and you scoff.

"Don't need luck with that broom, right Severus?" You say cheekily and he raises his eyebrows disdainfully at you.

"At least my house have skill, and do not rely on their broomsticks to do the work for them."

"You're just jealous 'cause you want a spin on the Firebolt, Severus," you tease, returning to your breakfast.

Later, you sit with Remus in the Quidditch stands, looking out at the pitch in the cool, clear air.

"Merlin, I hope they win. I'm after placing a five-galleon bet with Filius that we win," you say, watching as the two captains shake hands and Madam Hooch blows her whistle to set off.

"You can't say 'we'," Remus says with a sigh. "We're supposed to be impartial, remember?"

"Ah, you hardly think any of these teachers are impartial, do you?" you laugh. "Sure even Dumbledore leans to Gryffindor just a little."

Lee Jordan's voice can be heard over the stands.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt which Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship — "

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what is going on in the match?" interrupts McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built in auto-brake and — "

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal..."

Remus chuckles beside you, nudging you with his elbow. "Mr Jordan reminds me of someone."

You roll your eyes, laughing. "I can't say that you're too far off...he can definitely give me a run for my money. I think my title of Best Commentator in the History of the World is in danger."

"Oh? And where were you given this prestigious award? The Academy of Modesty?"

You cackle, throwing your head back in laughter. "You witty bastard."

You watch as Harry zooms past on his broomstick, the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, tailing after him.

"Gryffindor lead by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now. See it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it. The Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticeable in these long — "

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Harry suddenly dives to the ground and you hold your breath, thinking he's seen the Snitch, but then he pulls up sharply and heads for the Ravenclaw end of the pitch, accelerating. Cho Chang follows suit, before she lets out a scream and points at three tall, black, hooded Dementors looking up at Harry.

You and Remus both turn to each other before quickly turning back to the match, just in time to see Harry produce his wand and yell, "Expecto patronum!"

A large silver stag erupts from Harry's wand and throws itself at the Dementors and knocks them off their feet —

Wait, their feet?

As you squint at the dark figures, you make out four young boys tangled in dark cloaks and click your tongue in disappointment, just as Harry grabs the Snitch and the stadium explodes into cheers.

You and Remus stand and leave your seats like the rest of the supporters, the Gryffindors rapidly streaming onto the pitch in celebration.

"You saw what I saw, right?" you ask.

"If you saw four boys playing dress-up as Dementors, then yes."

You find the four boys, immediately recognizing the faces of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Marcus Flint.

"Well, well, well," you tut, hands on your hips as you look down at the heap of Slytherins. "Bet you regret doing that now, eh boys?"

They groan collectively and soon enough, McGonagall approaches with an expression of pure fury on her face. She starts to yell, and then Remus arrives with Harry in tow, and you don't miss the look on Harry's face at the sorry site in front of him.

"An unworthy trick!" McGonagall shouts. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

You grin at Harry, whispering, "Excellent Patronus, Harry!"

He beams proudly.

An great victory for Gryffindor indeed, especially considering you're five-galleons richer as you return to your bedroom.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Sharp knocking on your door jolts you awake that night, and you quickly swing your legs over and out of your bed to answer the incessant knocking. Dubh meows angrily at the interruption of her sleep, as if she doesn't sleep the whole day anyway.

"I'm coming, I'm coming..." you quickly leave your bedroom and enter your small office, unlocking the door and swinging it open. "Minerva?"

"Sirius Black has broken into the school again," she tells you quickly. "Ronald Weasley said he was standing over him with a knife not too long ago."

You feel your mouth drop, unable to form any cohesive sentences as your brain tries to wrap around the information you've just gotten. "What?"

She nods, a grim look on her face. "I am terribly sorry about this...but I do need to check your room."

You nod wordlessly, opening the door for her to step in. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead..."

McGonagall does a quick sweep of your office and bedroom, stopping to give Dubh a brief few pets before she returns to your side at the door, shaking her head.

"Nothing here, of course," she says. "Will you accompany me in my search of the rest of the castle?"

You give her a confused look. "Are you sure? I thought Dumbledore doesn't want me to be involved in any searches like this...lest I sabotage it."

McGonagall scoffs. "I trust you. I know you are not stupid enough to let him into the castle, let alone let him out of your sight if you had. "

You give her a small smile. "Thanks." You grab the keys to your room and step outside, closing it behind you and locking it firmly. "Alright, let's go..."

You walk down the hallway together, wands shining light and at the ready. "How the bloody hell did he get into Gryffindor Tower? Did he attack Sir Cadogan too?"

McGonagall kisses her teeth, shaking her head in frustration. "No. Neville Longbottom was so incredibly foolish he wrote down the whole week's passwords and then left them lying around for anyone to find."

You sigh. "Oh, Neville...poor, forgetful Neville."

You scour the halls together, occasionally passing Professors Vector and Flitwick on their own search, but end up finding no trace of Sirius anywhere.

You bid goodbye to McGonagall and return to your room. As you unlock the door, you half expect to find him on the other side, but when you open it there's no one there, just your desk, messily covered with parchment and quills.

You return to your bed, but can't sleep at all so you choose to sit up and read more of the book you've been reading lately. Dubh stretches, jumping up onto your bed to nestle herself in your lap, purring softly. You pause to reach out and scratch her ears, before returning to your book.

Why was Sirius standing over Ron Weasley with a knife? It just doesn't make sense to you. You really are beginning to think he did truly go mad. And there's no way Ron dreamt it because Sir Cadogan confirmed that he did let him in...so why? Why would he do that? He wasn't actually going to murder an innocent boy like that, was he? He wasn't going to really take someone's life just like that, was he?

You reach the end of your page and realise that your eyes are just looking at the words and not actually taking them in. So finally, you step out of your bed and choose to do what you always do when you can't sleep: stargaze.

You shrug on a warm hoodie and a pair of slippers, grab your wand and leave. Dubh decides to follow and the two of you make your way up the Astronomy Tower. You sit beside the railing, legs dangling out over the edge as you grip the railing, looking up into the dark sky above. Dubh wanders around the room, sniffing various objects and rubbing up against them, before eventually she settles on curling up beside you and closing her eyes.

It's a clear night thankfully, and you can see all the twinkling stars perfectly. Beautiful, flaming objects of gas that are millions and billions of light years away from you. It's crazy to think that you are just one small, near-imperceptible speck on the ever-growing canvas of the universe. It's what drew you to astronomy in the first place. The study of space, because that's all it is. Space. That idea that, really, nothing matters at all. The world does not revolve around you. It never has, and it never will.

It's something that's always fuelled you to stop worrying about things. Why spend your time on this earth, your beautiful one-in-an-infinity chance to live, worrying about things? Though you say that, you can't help but worry anyway. You worry about Sirius, you worry about your friends, your family, your students, your godson, your cat, your job. Because even though the world doesn't revolve around you, your world revolves around the things and people you love.

A thin line of light streaks through the sky and you silently wish for peace from the thoughts that trouble you.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Security is noticeably tightened around the castle the next day. Filch is boarding up every crack and mouse hole in the castle; Flitwick teaches the front doors to recognise a picture of Sirius; and with Sir Cadogan sacked and the Fat Lady restored, big security trolls now patrol around her portrait, grunting at each other and comparing the size of their clubs.

You miss breakfast again, and tickle the pear on the fruit painting outside the kitchen, stepping inside quickly. The house elves all look up and greet you, immediately setting to work on something for your breakfast. Bitsy runs up to you excitedly, camera swinging around her neck.

"Hello, mistress!" she squeaks, holding up her camera. "Say 'cheers'!"

"Cheers...?" you say quizzically and there's a flash from Bitsy's camera.

A photo slowly emerges out the end of the camera and she shakes it excitedly, thrusting it into your face. Sure enough, there you are, mouthing the word 'cheers' with a confused expression.

You chuckle lightly, pushing the photo down out of your eye line gently. "Lovely, Bitsy. You could be a professional photographer at this rate!"

She grins wide, her big brown eyes twinkling. "Thank you, mistress!"

"Oh, and the word is 'cheese', not 'cheers', Bitsy," you say with a small laugh and she lets out a loud "Oh!".

Then you're presented with a tray of breakfast from another house elf, and you accept it gratefully as the elf bows. You sit down at a small table, tucking into a breakfast of fruit, pancakes and a great mug of tea.

You drain the mug, though you find you haven't got much of an appetite and give the house elves in front of you an apologetic look. "I'm awfully sorry, but my appetite just isn't there. Thank you all very much."

Bitsy bows with a smile. "That's okay, mistress! Bitsy is happy to help!"

"Bitsy is not the only house elf that prepared mistress's breakfast," another elf says with a scowl.

You chuckle lightly, smiling. "Don't worry, I am well aware. Thank you very much."

You turn to leave but are stopped by Bitsy. "Oh, mistress, the Headmaster told Bitsy to tell you he wants to see you in his office! He also said he really likes Bubbling Bonzies!"

You raise your eyebrows, nodding. "Oh, right. Okay. Thanks, Bitsy."

You leave, knowing well what Dumbledore wants to see you about. It's certainly not a raise in your pay, anyway. As you move through the castle, you pass Ron Weasley standing with Harry and relaying his chilling tale to a few second-year girls.

" — and I saw him standing over me, like a skeleton...with loads of filthy hair...holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches..."

You continue walking past them, shaking your head, and it's not long before you arrive outside the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Bubbling Bonzies," you say to the stone gargoyle. The wall starts to move and a spiral staircase is revealed to you. You make your way up and knock on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in."

You push the door open, finding Dumbledore sitting at his desk and sitting in front of him, is none other than the Minister of Magic.

"Minister," you say in slight surprise, walking further into the room. Dumbledore gestures for you to sit down beside Fudge and you do, eyeing him warily.

"Now, Professor...I am sure you know why I have called you here," Dumbledore says and you nod.

"Yes, Headmaster."

"It is my understanding," Fudge says, turning his head to you, "that Sirius Black once again broke into the school and this time he successfully managed to get into Gryffindor Tower, terrifying the students there."

"You'd be right about that, Minister."

"What is your involvement?" Fudge demands, and you turn to him in disbelief.

"What is my involvement?" you repeat, glaring at him. "I didn't have any!"

Fudge scoffs. "It is more than just a coincidence that Black has managed to get into the school more than once! How did he do it?"

"I don't know, ask him."

"Stop your denying!" Fudge snaps. "I have given you the benefit of the doubt time and time again, but I have had it up to here! Did you help Sirius Black get into this castle?"

"No, of course not!"

"Cornelius, please," Dumbledore intervenes calmly, bringing a hand up to silence the both of you. He looks at you. "Professor, please, can you tell us what you were doing last night after the Quidditch match?"

You sigh, kissing your teeth. "Alright. After the match, I went back to my quarters. I worked on a few things from my fifth-years, then I went to bed."

"What exactly did you work on?" Fudge demands.

"Essays on the relationship between Saturn's moons and its rings," you reply bitterly.

Dumbledore motions for you to continue. "Then, at around half one or so, Professor McGonagall came and informed me of the break-in. Then we searched the castle together, found no one, and I returned to my bedroom. Then I read a book, tried to sleep but couldn't, and went up to the Tower to stargaze."

"A likely story," Fudge mumbles under his breath.

"See, Cornelius? A perfect alibi," Dumbledore says.

"Perfect alibi? She was practically alone the whole time!"

You scoff. "Minister, honestly, what reason would I have to let him into the castle? Do you think I want him to go around scaring the life out of my students?"

"I — I don't know! How else could he have gotten in? He would have needed inside help."

"Take a walk, Minister. Don't you think that a man capable of breaking out of Azkaban on his own is capable of breaking in to Hogwarts on his own?"

"But — the Dementors — "

"If the Dementors didn't catch him then that's not my problem," you snap. "If they're really so hell-bent on giving him that Kiss then they ought to work a little harder."

Fudge doesn't respond.

"A lovely thing, by the way. The Dementors' Kiss."

Fudge makes a noise, halfway between a frustrated growl and a sigh. "He is a murderer. He deserves no better fate."

"No one deserves that fate other than Voldemort himself."

Fudge winces, hissing, "Don't speak that name!"

"Coward," you mutter under your breath, and Fudge doesn't hear it. "You didn't give Sirius a trial last time, why give him one this time? You're so kind, Minister."

"Please, Cornelius, let us put this matter to rest," Dumbledore says. "I have the utmost faith in my staff. I know she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the safety of her students."

"I really, honestly, wouldn't," you say to Fudge earnestly. "I love my job and I love this school and I love my students. I would never do anything to hurt them."

It's quiet for a moment, before Fudge speaks. "Do you still think he is innocent?"

You don't respond.

Fudge silently fumes in his seat and Dumbledore says, "I think that is enough. You may go, Professor."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Headmaster." You give Fudge a parting glare and depart from the office, closing the door behind you.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter ten here!

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

[diejager]

Say Cheese! Cw: stalking, picture, invasion of privacy, home invasion, DARKFIC, dark!reader, Ghostface!reader, forced voyeurism, mention of murder, blood, tell me if I missed any.

part 3

Just as Simon had promised, he left a window in the kitchen open, the latch unlocked and the screen light enough for you to slide up and crawl in. Dressed in your hunting attire, the cheap Ghostface mask you bought at a little Halloween store and made your little disguise from other leather clothes you took from Simon and bought on your own. You’ve seen people cosplay in different styles, but you’d grown fond of the leather-clad Ghostface from a game you never bothered playing, but admired.

Dropping in quietly, you stalked through the house, your shoes leaving a trail of dirt as you round the table, running a gloved finger over the clean surface. You liked how clean the house was, tables wiped squeaky clean, floor mopped and carpets smelling fresh, everything about this place oozed of obsession and cleanliness —both things you understood and practiced. But you loved dirtying perfect homes even more than obsessively cleaning your knife of dried blood. There was an appeal in painting the alabaster walls of your obsession with blood, the prettiest red adding life to a bland life, much like their choked screams and screeching wails echoing in your ears when you stabbed them. It was a passionate art —your art.

Leaving the kitchen with a trail of dirt as a reminder that you were in Johnny’s safe haven, that you had power over their dwelling that Simon swore was safe and well protected. You knew it was, the blinking, red light of the camera pointed down the hall and peering into the dining room. You peeked your head out, putting on a show for Johnny to see when he woke up, standing straight as you left the safety of the wall. A crooked grin stretched behind your mask, head tilted to the side and waved at the camera, it was deliberately slow and taunting.

You could already see Johnny’s face, the panic and sheer terror that you relished in. You knew he thrived on control, being in control of his situation and understanding it, losing it could send any man on the edge of fear —even you and Simon liked organisation and control. You slowly climbed the stairs, your coat flowing behind every step of the carpeted floor, hand sliding up the banister until you reached the end of it.

You were finally on the same floor as them, their bedroom door left slightly ajar for you to peer in with an eye, breath laboured and warm inside your mask when you found Johnny and Simon sleeping in bed. You pushed it open, sliding in with your eyes still lingering on the couple, eyes as wide as the smile on your lips. Johnny was sound asleep, oblivious to your presence in the safest place in the house, snoring lightly with those low, hanging bags under his eyes. You would’ve felt guilty for making Johnny’s nights horrible if you weren’t so sadistically pleased by his debauched and exhausted appearance, warmth stirring in your gut at making him so sad.

Unconsciously, a hand slipped under the lapel of your coat, finding the brick-shaped camera in your pocket, an old model you inherited from your grandparents. You stepped closer, standing at the end of their bed, waiting for Simon to acknowledge your presence, for him to see how far you made it in their house without alerting him. You wanted to make him proud for using the skills he taught you when he first took you in, showing you the way with a hard hand and mean praises. And you couldn’t stop the shudder that wracked your body when his eyes opened, his pretty brown eyes staring through the black fabric hiding your eyes and mouth.

“Si,” you whispered reverently, gazing at him for permission as you raised your camera.

Giving you a subtle nod, he closed his eyes and acted asleep, letting you take as many pictures as you wanted. Feeling extremely giddy, you positioned the camera, looking through the viewfinder of your 1993’s EOS Rebel and snapped pictures. You admired every shot you took, taking a second to preserve the scene in your mind, committing the shots to memory. Taking a few more, you tucked it back into your coat, bending over Simon’s side to whisper your gratitude, ready to leave and call it a night, but his hand griped your wrist, calling you back to his side.

Head cocked to the right, you watched him slowly untangle himself from Johnny, wrapping his arm around your hips and brought you to his chest. He hummed lowly, hands running over your disguise and slipping under your chin, collaring your throat before he cupped your chin, nudging your mask over your lips. Blinded by the mask’s cheeks, you felt his hot breath hit your lips, making you squirm on his lap, body tingling and core pulsing for a rewarding kiss from your owner.

“Thank you,” you managed to choke out before his chapped lips met yours, his kiss dominating and passionate, holding your face still as he devoured you whole with one kiss, “Thank you. Thank you.”

All you could do was mumble in worship, thanking him for every touch of his lips on yours and the burn of his invading tongue. He left you panting and wanting when you crawled out of the house, locking the window behind you like he told you this morning, walking home with a skip in your step.

Johnny felt sick, the unease in his gut weighing heavily as he stared at the computer screen in utter fear. He scrambled to the office after he found a series of pictures taken of both him and Simon in their sleep, vulnerable and oblivious tot he danger that was standing an arm away from doing anything to them. He hadn’t taken a second to flip through the images, rushing to the computer to see how his stalker had made it in their home without either of them knowing. He gawked at the lean figure standing in the arching entrance of his dining room, clad in black and grey toned leather waving at the camera.

He would’ve laughed at the disguise if he wasn’t so spooked, the white, scream face with a hood pulled over, coat loosely wrapped around you with a belts and straps, and ending at the feet with ankle-high boots. The slow and cocky wave they did sent a chill down his spine, seeing the complete ease and comfort that his stalker had to take the time to wave and take their time in his house —he counted almost an hour before he saw them leave through the kitchen.

Threatened by taunting package of pictures, he looked through them, fingers spreading the dozens of pictures taken in his room over the desk, some falling to the floor in is chaotic search. His eyes roved over the desk and floor, frantic until he stopped at the black scribbles on the other side of a picture, a message that he caught from his height.

I enjoyed our night, Johnny. See you two next time!

-Your friendly Ghostface

Part 5

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy